"Move, move, move!" An explosion rocked the battlefield. He grabbed the armored shoulder of the man in front of him. "Chad, let's go!" he shouted. Chad rose to one knee, firing the assault rifle over the concrete barricade, then stood and ran after him. The voice came over the intercom again. "090, 146, get out of there!" Another explosion, closer to them. Bullets whistled past them, rattling the buildings behind them. They ran faster now, sprinting headlong towards their evac ship. The Hydra, a quick response deployment starcruiser. This was serious.

He dropped to one knee, firing into the crowds of howling Territes, and Chad stopped too. "Scott, what the hell are you doing?" He felt his brother's hand grab his shoulder. "Command told us to un-ass, let's go!" He stood again, jogging backwards, still firing. His gun clicked and he dropped the empty clip to the ground, slamming another home. The fire around them intensified. Chad yelled into the comlink in his helmet. "Over Watch, this is lambda-146, we are under heavy fire from sector two-one-alpha. Request air support, over!"

A hiss of static, then a reply. "Wilco, 146, fire incoming on sector two-one-alpha, out." Scott ducked behind a half-collapsed wall, Chad sliding in next to him. A few seconds, painfully long, passed. Then, the sound of an SGBM, a shrieking banshee heralding death to the Territes it soon exploded into. The entire city shook violently as the missile hit, and shattered concrete rained around the two soldiers. They stood and rushed over to the Hydra, which had started to lift off. Chad jumped in first and reached down, pulling his brother onto the ramp. It clanged shut nearly on Scott's legs, shutting out the awful screams from the aliens within the space-to-ground ballistic missile's blast radius.

Scott, breathing heavily, pulled off his helmet, his black hair dripping with sweat. Chad sprawled next to him, starting already to breathe easier. Scott forced himself to stand as the rest of their squad came into the loading area to greet them. Their sergeant, a burly man aptly named Magnus-119, helped Chad to stand. Scott looked at their squad captain, Charity-115. "Why did we pull out?"

"Intel says that the Territes have three frigates in a wormhole, coming here. HIMRC Command told us to pull out. Kyul isn't important enough to lose a whole squad on."

"Did the Marines get out?" asked Chad.

Charity nodded. "They pulled out at 18h00."

Scott looked at his watch. 18h07. Damn close. They were in 21A. "Why the Hydra?"

Magnus's deep voice rumbled the reply. "We're going to Callista."

Callista's the hottest battlefield this side of Home. Holy shit. "I thought Tau had Callista."

"Tau and Iota," added the squad's demolitions expert, Dexter-045.

"Now it'll have Lambda, too."

"Damn," muttered Chad.

Kirk-018, the nervous and inexperienced medic, ran his hand through his close-cropped blond hair. "Why do they want us there, captain?"

"Tau's Over Watch has been disabled, and Iota's is out of order. Command called us in to give spacial overlook and provide air support if needed."

"Bullshit."

Charity looked at Wayne-102, who had implacably made the comment. "Why bullshit?"

The tank of a lance corporal shrugged. "Isn't it always? They'll tell us to go there and stay in space, then a week later it'll be boots on the ground and fourth point in the mud. Brass is fubar if you ask me."

"Orders are orders, Cannon."

He shrugged again. "It's still bullshit."

The squad fell silent for a few minutes, then a more timid voice spoke. "Weren't we supposed to get R&R this week?"

Scott didn't have to look over to see who spoke. He knew that voice better than anyone's except Chad. It was Krystal. Or now, Krystal-060. She was the squad's sniper. And the second-best sniper in the HIMRC. She hated recognition, and kept a low profile as much as she could. Scott suspected she could have been the best if it wouldn't have drawn attention to herself. He shook his head once to clear his thoughts and came back to the squad's conversation.

"We were, but Command called it off."

"Who's watching Home?" asked Scott.

"Alpha."

"Wolf's still there?"

A nod.

Wayne scoffed. "Wolf's too chicken to come offworld."

Chad glared at him. "He's twice the fighter you'll ever be."

"Wolf? Don't make me laugh. He's older than dirt."

"He can still kick your ass."

"Bullshit."

Scott lost interest. This could go on for a while. He tucked his helmet under his arm and climbed the ladder into the hallway that led to the cockpit. Glancing in that direction, Scott wondered briefly who was flying this time, and turned towards the rec-room.

He made a quick stop in the armory on the way, pulling off his thick, shielded armor and leaving his IHC-3 assault rifle in the rack. He stepped out into the hallway again, feeling strangely light in the basic cotton-polyester grey fatigues, the number 090 printed on his chest, just like it was on the armor. He wasn't Scott Davies anymore, at least not to the politicians back Home. He was just a number.

He scratched his maroon-striped shoulder absently, the only habit he had that was different from Chad. It was hard to be a twin, especially an identical one. He had to do something to set him apart. He had started scratching his right shoulder seventeen years ago, before they were inducted into the HIMRC's TROJAN-IX program. Scott would have said dragged, but Chad sort of liked being in the military, especially the special forces. It had been years since his brother had felt purposeless.

Scott made his way to the rec-room and collapsed into one of the thick, comfortable recliners arranged in a half-circle around the room. His body was exhausted, but his mind was still running at full speed. Seventeen years of training had made his brain work as fast as a supercomputer, but it still took a while to shut down. He leaned back, eyes closed, and let his mind run.

His small face pressed eagerly against the glass of the speeder's window. The speeder slowed down and his adrenaline pumped even higher through his small body. The words "Davies and Engram Engineering" passed slowly high above him, the block letters standing out from their perch along the skyscraper's highest ledge. He turned to his brother beside him, bouncing on his seat with excitement. "We're here!"

The driver stepped out and opened the door, its gears whirring, and the computerized voice spoke in a dull monotone. "Welcome to Davies and Engram. Follow me." The robotic greeter led them to the teleporter, which deposited them immediately upon the highest floor of the building. Their guide spoke again. "Your father is just over there, through that door. He is expecting you." And then the robot was gone.

The boys turned in unison, looking down the long hallway towards the door at the end, which read "Garrett Davies, CEO". They looked at each other with barely contained excitement, then started running towards the door. As they passed another, which read "Linda Engram, COO", a voice hailed them. "Scott, Chad? Is that you?"

They stopped in their tracks, turning towards the source of the voice. "Krystal?"

A small girl, two years younger than they, skipped happily out of the room. "It is you!" Her auburn pigtails bounced along with her. "It's really good to see you!"

The twin boys smiled, again in unison. "You too!"

All three ran together into a group hug, shouting unintelligible words to each other, as small children are wont to do. The door at the end of the hall opened suddenly, and the three stopped moving. Slowly they turned to look, and there stood Garrett Davies. He looked at them for a long moment, then smiled broadly. "There you are, boys. Come on inside."

Chad hurried towards their father, but Scott hesitated. There was something odd going on here, but his eight-year-old brain couldn't decipher it. His father beckoned to him. "Come on, Scott." The child scratched his right shoulder, his black hair falling into his eyes. Garrett came forward, with Chad latched on to his leg, and took his son's hand. "I have a surprise for you!"

Scott didn't resist his father's ushering, and allowed himself to be led into the office. Garrett addressed both his children. "Close your eyes now, no peeking."

The boys squeezed their grey eyes shut, clenching their fists in anticipation. They heard someone walk in behind them, and then the door closed. "Okay, turn around," came their father's voice.

Scott turned slowly, Chad eagerly, but both didn't know what to say. Standing there was a man neither of them knew. His hair was brown and his beard full, and he was wearing a grey uniform with maroon-striped shoulders, the number 001 printed across the chest. Their father spoke from behind them. "This is Uncle Wolf." Scott frowned. They didn't have any uncles. "He'll be taking you on a little trip."

Wolf did not smile, towering over the children, neither friendly nor hostile. "Come with me. We're going away for a while." His voice was rough yet strangely gentle.

Chad looked at him, wary. "Where are we going?"

"Have you ever been to space?"

The boys' eyes widened. Everyone wanted to go to space. Chad's wariness disappeared. "What planet are we going to visit?"

Wolf's expression did not change. "Horizon."

"Scott."

The quiet voice brought him out of his reminiscence. He looked up to see a very familiar face. "Hey, Kris."

She sat next to him. "How are you doing?"

He shrugged. "Coping."

"Is it easy for you? To kill people?"

His grey eyes met Krystal's emerald ones. "It's easier when they're shooting back."

A smile flitted across her small face. "It's really hard. For me."

He nodded, expressionless. "It's harder when you can see their faces, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I wish I could just talk to them. Make them see that we want peace."

"It's not that easy."

"It's crap." After all these years, she still didn't swear. Scott almost smiled. At least one member of Lambda Squad still had morals. He knew he didn't.

She stood. "We just went into the wormhole. We'll be out in a few hours. You may want to get some sleep."

"You know me, Kris. I don't sleep anymore."

She smiled sadly. "I know. Still… you should try."

"I'll try." He knew he wouldn't sleep anyway.

"I'll hold you to that." She started to walk away, towards the dormitory.

"Are Chad and Wayne still arguing?" Scott called after her.

"Does a bear crap in the woods?"