This story is set in Taylor and Wash's past, well before Terra Nova and before Somalia. Ayani is alive, and so is Wash's grandmother for the purpose of this story.

Disclaimer: I write for fun, all characters belong to respective writers and producers, no copyright infringement intended.

War Games

They had been off base for nearly eighteen months, he was eager to report in and head home; he had been away from his family for a long time. His men had been given leave only a few hours ago after they landed and stowed their gear. It had been a long and bloody posting on the wire, and while they were supposedly at peace on the continent sparks were already flying in Somalia; that would likely be their next post.

"Taylor." He turned and nodded as his CO approached, he had known the man a long time and while he reported to him, he also counted him a friend; his body came to attention on reflex.

"Philbrick." General Philbrick had once been his mentor until they went different paths in the military. Taylor choose special forces, if he was going to serve his country he was going to do it with his men at his back, while Philbrick went political and straight up the chain of command. "You received my reports, do I need to clarify any details?"

"No." The man clapped him on the back and shook his head. "I know you want to get home, Ayani will want you there. Your paperwork is in order, I've got a small assignment for you while you are home. We've a security issue."

"Of what sort?" Security was not his forte, he generally didn't guard much beyond his own camp; he led the attacks against what was protected.

"Don't worry, it plays to your strengths." His CO smirked as they headed back towards his office. When the door was secured and a jamming sequence had been applied the man sat behind his desk and slid a file over to him. "Pick a few of your best go with you; I leave the team selection up to you."

Opening it he read for a time, once and then a second time to commit the details to memory. "We've a traitor in psychops I take it."

"Or so they say. It has occurred to me that this is just because they want to test their security measures. But if you find that experiment we've got a problem." Philbrick sighed, and holding out a hand for the file again. "I don't need details, you should know standard ops is nonlethal arms for security personnel. If you succeed bring me the experiment, if not I'll hear."

"You'll be bailing us out." The file was secured and he turned to press his thumb to the screen; acknowledging that he had received the orders.

"I'd be disappointed Taylor." They rose, Taylor pulled himself to attention before taking his leave.

Moving quickly through the base he looked for any members of his unit remaining; he knew the ones he wanted. He spotted the youngest, still in her gear and waiting for the transport, likely one heading west; cutting through people he caught her before she boarded. Wash was a soldier to the bone and if he called her back she would come but it wasn't fair; better delay leave a few more days than get half way home and having to turn around.

"Wash." Her head turned, catching his voice and looking for him. "Hold up."

"Sir." She came to attention as he stopped in front of her.

"Change of plans, we're back up. I've got to round up a couple more and book a sec-con; check into barracks for the night." Even as he spoke he scanned the terminal, looking for the other three he wanted for the op.

"Yes Sir." Ever composed the only tell he saw was that her eyes went flat; for just a moment she had been relaxed, thinking about going home.

"You know where Cairns or Regan are?" He knew where the last man would be; he lived on base.

"Have you checked the dives just off base?" There was laughter in her voice though her face remained blank.

"Not yet." Both men were good soldiers and would go entire deployments without drinking but from the moment they were on leave until their next orders were issued they did not spend more than a moment sober. It was how some men dealt with what they had to do in battle, what they saw and survived. And given their posting their leaves never lasted very long.

Wash shouldered her pack and headed out of the terminal as he headed over to local transports and took one off base to find his men. During the short ride he requisitioned a sec-con, a secure conference room where they would plan the war game. This time it was army special ops versus psychops security and in a way it was fitting.

Psychops was always shipping over new weaponry to use, and half the time it was more of a problem than a help. They loved to come up with new weapons but were slow to come up with defenses against the ones used against the soldiers in the field. On this last deployment they'd seen factions of the Russo Chinese using nerve gases, a less sophisticated psychops tactic that had backfired almost as often as it succeeded; shifting winds had worked against them almost as often as it worked in their favor.

The nasty gas had rolled through their camp more than once, could have been devastating if a wind change hadn't knocked out the camp that had released it. Some how he anticipated similar tactics with this op, no matter what psychops claimed their security was; there would be surprises.

Striding off the transport and into the first dive he saw he found his men cozied up to the bar, and mostly sober. With quick reflexes he took the shot still sitting in front of Cairns he downed it himself as both men turned itching for a fight; surprise evident in their eyes. "You're back on the roll. Both of you."