GREEN RAGE AND RED RAGE

The Resistance fleet moved through hyperspace, the crew savoring a rare moment of calm after the explosive success of their mission. Though the factory's destruction was a critical blow to the Vanguard, the battle had come at a cost. Every fighter who returned to the fleet carried with them stories of comrades who hadn't made it back.

On the bridge of the command ship, the leader stood in silence, staring at the void outside the viewport. The stars streaked by, distant and indifferent, as if oblivious to the lives lost in the struggle.

Jester entered the room, his usual grin replaced by a weary expression. "Deep thoughts, boss?"

The leader glanced at him, offering a faint smile. "Something like that. We took a big step today, but it doesn't feel like enough."

Jester leaned against a console. "It never will. But that's why we keep fighting, right? One step at a time."

The leader nodded. "One step at a time."

---

In the ship's infirmary, Luther sat on a makeshift bench while a medic wrapped a bandage around his arm. Despite his injuries, his expression was as stoic as ever.

"Looks like you're patched up," the medic said. "Just try not to rip that bandage off in your next fight."

"No promises," Luther replied, standing and rolling his shoulder experimentally.

As he left the infirmary, Luther passed a group of young fighters, their hushed voices filled with awe.

"Is that him?" one whispered. "The one who held off an entire wave of drones?"

Luther didn't stop, but he couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

---

In the mess hall, the survivors gathered to eat and share stories. The air was heavy with both grief and camaraderie, a reminder of the bonds forged in battle.

Iris, sitting at a table with her squad, raised her glass. "To those we lost," she said, her voice firm despite the sorrow in her eyes. "And to the ones who brought us back."

The hall echoed with the sound of glasses clinking together.

---

As the fleet neared its temporary base, the leader called a meeting of the senior officers. The holographic map of the galaxy flickered to life, showing the Vanguard's remaining strongholds.

"The factory's destruction has weakened their supply chain," the leader began. "But the Vanguard is far from defeated. We need to capitalize on this momentum and hit them where it hurts."

Luther crossed his arms. "Any word on their next move?"

"Our spies report increased activity near the Rim colonies," the leader replied. "It's likely they're consolidating forces to retaliate."

Jester leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Then maybe we should hit them first. Catch them with their pants down."

The leader considered this, then nodded. "We'll scout the area first. If there's an opportunity, we'll take it."

---

Later, in the quiet of their quarters, the leader reviewed the mission logs. The footage of the factory's destruction played on a small screen, the bright flashes of explosions stark against the dark backdrop of space.

A soft knock at the door broke their concentration.

"Come in," the leader called.

Luther entered, his imposing frame filling the doorway. "You should rest," he said gruffly.

The leader sighed. "I will. But there's too much to do."

Luther stepped inside, his expression softening. "You can't lead if you burn yourself out. The fleet needs you—alive and at your best."

The leader managed a small smile. "You're right. As always."

---

Elsewhere on the ship, Jester was busy making his rounds, cracking jokes and lifting spirits wherever he went. He stopped by the engineering bay, where Iris and a group of techs were repairing damaged equipment.

"Don't you people ever take a break?" Jester asked, leaning against a console.

Iris smirked. "Says the guy who never stops talking."

"Talking is my job," Jester replied with a wink. "Speaking of which, have I told you about the time I—"

"Save it for later," Iris interrupted, laughing. "We've got work to do."

Jester chuckled and moved on, his presence leaving a trail of lighter hearts in his wake.

---

As the fleet settled into its temporary base, preparations for the next mission began in earnest. Fighters trained in the simulators, engineers upgraded the ships, and strategists pored over intelligence reports.

The leader stood on the observation deck, watching as the base's hangar buzzed with activity.

Jester joined them, holding two steaming cups. "Thought you could use this," he said, handing one over.

"Thanks," the leader said, taking a sip.

Jester leaned on the railing, his usual humor tempered by a rare seriousness. "We're making a difference, you know. Even if it doesn't feel like it sometimes."

The leader nodded. "I know. And as long as we keep fighting, we'll keep making a difference."

Jester raised his cup in a mock toast. "To the next step."

"To the next step," the leader echoed, their resolve stronger than ever.

---

To be continued...

_________________________________________

Visit out patreon for more episodes. Exclusive only on patreon

https://patreon.com/YOGAGANESH_2103