"Talk about a whirlwind first day," sighed Alexandria as she drove back to the employee apartment complex.

She drove into the parking lot, got out of her Toyota Corolla, and trudged towards the elevator, her feet throbbing from spending the day in high heels.

"Adelaide, I’m home," she called out wearily, as she opened her apartment door, and went inside, eager to kick off the pumps that she wore.

"Hey, Mom, how was your first day?" asked Adelaide.

"Intense. This Sirius Software mega corp is run by a certified evil genius and sexist pig," grumbled Alexandria, flopping down on the couch.

With a satisfied sigh, she kicked off her pumps, and gently massaged her pantyhose covered feet.

"He didn’t seem that bad earlier," giggled Adelaide.

"True, he just has exacting standards," conceded Friedrich.

It was the sound of his voice, that finally drove the fact that Friedrich and Axel were in the living room into Alexandria’s weary senses.

She quickly sat up straight, and adrenaline surged through her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her voice tight.

"Nice to see you too, Alexandria. I’m one of Aaron Zakhrov’s business partners. I just came from a conference with him," chuckled Friedrich.

"Know what? I don’t give a shit anymore. I’m exhausted, and I want a nice hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Go play warlord with Zakhrov, and don’t bother me," said Alexandria, heaving herself out of the couch and padding to the bathroom.

"Well, that went well," chuckled Axel.

"It was nice catching up with you Adelaide. Here, take my contact info. Even if your mother doesn’t like me, I’d like to make up for lost time," said Friedrich.

"How long are you staying here?" asked Adelaide, as she saved Friedrich’s and Axel’s numbers.

"A few weeks. I’m here to oversee the construction of the new shipyard," said Friedrich.

"And I’m here to see if I can get a dealer and service network for my cars," said Axel.

"Great! My entrance exam to St. Ignatius Academy is next week. Will you be able to come with me? I’d like the family support," asked Adelaide.

"Of course we will," said Friedrich.

With that, they hugged Adelaide goodbye and left the apartment.

---

"Adelaide, are you ready?" asked Alexandria, as she carefully applied lipstick.

"Ready Mom," said Adelaide, coming to stand in the doorway.

Alexandria did a double take at the sight of Adelaide.

She was wearing a sleek black skirt-suit, with a pleated A-line skirt, a crisp white blouse with a black tie in a half Windsor knot, thick black pantyhose and sleek black leather pumps with gleaming metal stiletto heels.

"Where did you get those?" asked Alexandria.

"Like it? There’s this super cool store called The Feminine Professional out in the Sirius Zone. Father took me shopping there yesterday. You should check it out, their stuff is amazing," said Adelaide, giving her mother a twirl.

Alexandria pursed her lips at the mention of Friedrich, but decided to let it go.

"Fine, let’s go then," she said, packing her makeup kit in her purse.

"About that. There’s no way I’m showing up to St. Ignatius in a busted Corolla. Cousin Axel said he’ll give us a ride," said Adelaide sauntering into the living room, her heels clicking smartly on the floor.

"Hey! What’s wrong with my car? You never complained about it before!" demanded Alexandria.

"That’s because we were broke, now that you’re loaded, either get it fixed or get it trashed," shot back Adelaide.

"I haven’t even gotten my first damn paycheck!" retorted Alexandria.

"Get an advance, or swallow your pride, and let Father pay for it," fenced back Adelaide, yanking open the front door.

"Teenagers!" muttered Alexandria as she struggled to keep up with Adelaide’s rapid walking pace.

"Adelaide! Slow down! Your feet will kill you otherwise!" she admonished, as she caught up with Adelaide at the elevator alcove.

"Not with these puppies I won’t. They’re designed for all day wear without hurting," said Adelaide, showing them off.

"Fine," sighed Alexandria, not in the mood to argue further.

They exited the elevator, walked through the employee apartment complex foyer, and out into the main entrance.

"Hi Cousin Axel," greeted Adelaide, spotting Axel leaning against a sleek black Stormkreuzer sedan.

"Hi, want to ride up front?" asked Axel, as he pressed a button on his key fob, and the Stormkreuzer’s gull wing doors swung open.

"Oh yeah," said Adelaide, scampering into the front passenger seat.

"Where’s Father?" she asked as Alexandria reluctantly got into the back.

"He’s stuck in a meeting. He’ll meet you at the school later," said Axel, getting into the driver’s seat.

"OK, let’s go," said Adelaide, and Axel started up the car.

---

Adelaide came out of the exam hall to find Friedrich and Axel waiting for her.

"Well, how did it go?" asked Friedrich.

"I think I did OK," said Adelaide, a little breathlessly.

"Harder than you thought it would be eh?" asked Axel.

"Kinda. I’m sure I’ll pass, but I’m not so sure about the scholarship," said Adelaide.

"Well, don’t worry. I’ll pay for your tuition if it comes down to it. I’m your father after all," said Friedrich, stroking her hair reassuringly.

"Thank you, Father, that means a lot," said Adelaide, letting herself be comforted by him.

"I know, that I wasn’t exactly a model parent back in those tough years, but I’m here for you now," said Friedrich, and Adelaide hugged him.

Alexandria approached them, and pointedly cleared her throat.

"While I appreciate that you are trying to make amends, Friedrich. I don’t need nor do I want any of your money," she said.

"This is Adelaide’s future on the line. I’m not going to deny her an opportunity like this," said Friedrich.

"Your union busting drove hundreds of good men to end their lives! And your newest machinations with that extremist nationalist party has killed even more people! I cannot in good conscience allow you to use that blood money for our daughter’s education," said Alexandria, her blue eyes blazing with fury.

"Hey, don’t I get a say in this?" asked Adelaide, coming between them.

"No you don’t. You’re still too young to understand," snapped Alexandria.

"I’m thirteen! I can decide for myself!" shouted Adelaide.

"Fine, what do you want?" sighed Alexandria.

"First, let’s wait and see if I get the scholarship. If I don’t, then I’ll apply for student aid, and pay for it myself the best I can. I don’t want the two of you fighting over who gets to pay," said Adelaide.

"I have a better idea, how about I pay for your tuition instead. Aunt Alexandria, you’re not opposed to car money are you?" asked Axel, who had been watching the debate.

"Wait, you’ll do that Cousin Axel?" asked Adelaide.

"And why not? I’m the founder and owner of Albrecht Automotive," chuckled Axel.

"Actually, that saves me from working in some diner. I’ll pay it all back once I graduate and get a job," said Adelaide.

"You don’t have to do that. We’re family after all," said Axel.

"Well, now that that’s settled. Can we go celebrate like a normal family and not snipe?" asked Adelaide.

"Fine by me. Where do you want to go?" asked Friedrich, amused and impressed with Adelaide’s maturity.

"Velours Noir has excellent reviews, let’s go there," declared Adelaide, and grabbing Axel’s hand, she went towards his parked Stormkreuzer.

---

"Admiral, sonar is picking up a submarine following us. It is not one of ours," reported the sonar operator on board the USS Gerald R. Ford.

"The hits just keep coming don’t they. We have an identification?" asked Admiral Artemis Winters.

"No, ma’am the sound profile doesn’t match anything on file," said the sonar operator.

He blinked, and looked intently at his screen, and listened intently with his headset.

"It’s gone! It just disappeared!" he exclaimed.

"Are you sure you weren’t just hearing things Soldier? Not that I blame you, the Aristotle incident has made everyone a little jittery these days," said Artemis.

"Admiral, I’m sure I heard a sub, and it wasn’t one of ours," said the officer, flushing with indignation.

The sonar screen flashed with a signature again.

"Woah! There it is!" exclaimed the operator.

"Active sonar! Find that thing!" barked Artemis.

The Gerald R. Ford’s sonar activated its ping, and a massive shadow appeared on the screen for a second, before it disappeared.

"Whatever that thing was, it hit 40 knots, at least according to the Doppler sensors we have," reported the radar operator.

Artemis rubbed her temples.

"Anything else we have on it?" she asked.

"No magnetic anomalies were detected, but it created a massive thermal wake that we can see," said the officer manning the tactical station.

"Well, at least it doesn’t break that particular law of physics. Are we able to track it?" asked Artemis.

"Aye, ma’am, we can follow that thermal wake," said the officer.

"Admiral, message from the USS Alabama, they are tracking an unknown naval vessel that just surfaced. It is Russian flagged," reported the communications officer.

"Another super-ship? Seriously?" asked Artemis.

"AWACS 1 to USS Ford, we have eyes on it now, transmitting visuals," came the message from the AWACS plane.

"Get me Gordon Harris at the Pentagon. It’s about damn time he has a little chat with that Zakhrov guy," growled Artemis as she saw the sharp almost supersonic jet shape of the new Russian submarine.

---

"What can I do for you, General?" asked Aaron as General Gordon Harris entered his office.

"What you can do is stop selling your damn weapons tech to Russia of all places! We’ve got enough problems with Saladin and those damn nuclear cruisers you’re building him," growled Gordon.

"You know, you can have those too if you ask nicely," pointed out Aaron.

"You think I don’t know that? Every damn military development project now has to go through Congress, and those idiots are all hell-bent on not giving you the time of day," grumbled Gordon.

"Well, there isn’t anything I can do about that," said Aaron with a shrug.

"What you can do, is politely ask your new friend Alexander Chekov to not take Soviet era projects and supercharge them with your tech. I have enough problems with trying to pitch for naval expansion to Congress, while worrying that he’s now building a damn fleet of super-submarines with your sail by wire tech, and Friedrich’s new lead-bismuth reactors," said Gordon.

"I’m an engineer not a politician. You want Alexander to stop making his toys, then ask him nicely yourself. Besides, it’s not the Cold War days anymore, everybody is in an arms race now," said Aaron.

"That’s all thanks to you and your little friends. Ugh! I have no idea why Congress is shooting itself in the damn foot over this, it’s not like you’re not American, at least on paper," grumbled Gordon.

"Well, I’m not averse to setting up some shell corporations if that’s what it will take," said Aaron.

"You already tried doing that when you sold us those spike strips many moons ago, and because of that stunt, the whole shell game is busted wide open. You can’t pull wool like that anymore," said Gordon.

"Somebody really doesn’t like me," chuckled Aaron.

"You think? Secretary of State Daniel Goldberg and his faction is running a round the clock smear campaign on you in the halls of the government. Nearly every politician is scared shitless from wanting to do business with you," retorted Gordon.

"You’re here," pointed out Aaron.

"I’m here to ask you to nerf some of your tech. If I can’t buy stuff from you, the least I can do is make sure the stuff I can buy isn’t hopelessly outclassed," said Gordon.

"All right, how about this?. We leverage the fact that the Sirius Zone is technically a city state, outside of US jurisdiction, and spin this as an import deal instead of a manufacturing contract. You’re buying fully finished stuff, just like how you sell F-35s to everyone else," suggested Aaron.

Gordon chewed on that for several long moments.

"I suppose I can try that route. I’ll pitch it as a components import deal and see if I can pull it through," he said, standing up.

"Pleasure doing business," said Aaron, as Gordon shook hands and left.