"You gotta be fucking kidding me…" Baird rolled his head at the sight, "Three god damn months of playing cat and mouse with command to get another squad…And this is what I get…"

Theodore Jester raised an eyebrow, and looked to Rudy Parr, his squadmate. Damon Baird seemed like he was about to shit his armor. Or pop a blood vessel. Or both. He was pretty sure it was both.

"What's the big deal? They gave us a squad of greens. We should have expected this, Baird," Sam reasoned. Theodore looked to Thomas Carmine, to make sure he wasn't gushing at the sight of his older brother in full Gear uniform and weapons. Unfortunately, he was, which Theodore was sure was not giving off a great impression to the heroes of Delta Squad.

"Well, yeah, I can accept Greens. But do you know who these Greens are, Sam? These are the same exact Greens THAT I FUCKING RECRUITED WHEN I WENT TO SEE MARCUS. I mean, that's like, I don't fucking know, like bringing your neighbor some free apples, and then they sell you a god damn apple pie. They're just being a dick. Someone is being a dick. I got a dick to cut off."

Damon stormed off, to the amusement of Cole. Theodore was doing all he could to not laugh as well. Sam gave him a smile.

"Well, don't mind Baird. He's always like that. I'm Sergeant Samantha Byrne. This is Private Augustus Cole, and Lance Corporal Clayton Carmine. That was Lieutenant Damon Baird. Why don't you sound off for us, soldier?"

"Uh, I'm Corporal Theodore Jester, leader of Hotel Squad."

"Private Rudy Parr."

"Private Yassir Akbar."

"Private Thomas Carmine."

"Oh, no…" Clayton groaned, and looked away. Cole's laughter intensified.

"Another Carmine? Oh, this is too good…" Cole was busting a gut at the idea.

"I am staying over here," Clayton announced, walking well away from his brother, "With our luck, we're going to get caught with the same fucking grenade."

Thomas seemed discouraged at his brother's reaction, and slumped. Theodore knew that he had to keep his squad lively.

"We were told to report to Lieutenant Baird for our orders, Sergeant-"

"Please, call me Sam."

"With all due respect, Sergeant, I'd rather not."

"Listen, kid, havin' a stick up yo ass ain't gonna do anyone any good. We're all Gears here, no need for titles," Cole insisted.

"At the same time, this is my first real mission, Cole. I'd rather not get too attached."

"Hey, I ain't planning on dyin'. The Locust Army couldn't do it, the Lambent couldn't do it. I don't think any spooks are gonna do in the Cole Train!"

"I suspect few dead men have ever had plans for their own demise, Cole. I have no intention of dying, and I have every confidence in Delta Squad's survivability."

Sam's eyes widened in understanding.

"Right. We're being deployed to an old Imulsion fields down by the name of Mercy. It was hit by the Spook three months ago, but there are still people there, and one of the survivors claims to have a picture of the attackers. Command didn't think this was a job for just for one squad, so here you are. Since there are still people in Mercy, Command thinks, it's likely to get hit again."

"For the same reason we're going."

"Right. We will have Hammer of Dawn support for this mission. Command is not taking chances."

Damon Baird returned, looking very pissed, grumbling to himself. He entered the truck they'd been given, and started the engine.

"Come on, Corporal, that's our cue to head out," Sam told him. There was a Vulcan minigun with the ammo pump. Hotel Squad piled into the back, while Cole took the minigun. Theodore grabbed the ammo pump. They didn't expect anything to happen on the way, but it made Theodore feel useful. Thomas was sitting near his older brother. Thomas seemed to be wanting to say something, and they could all sense it.

"I am glad to see that you became a Gear," Clayton finally broke the ice, "Anthony and Ben would be proud, too."

"Thanks, Clay. I figured, since Dad passed, it was time for me to do something. I didn't expect to be put on this mission, and I didn't ask. Honestly. I did really well in training, you don't have to look after me. I promise."

"Yeah, don't go running into open terrain, or jumping into worms," Baird sneered, and Clayton punched him in the arm. Baird held up his hand defensively, and kept his focus on the road. Eventually, they pulled into the hilly town of Mercy. There were a number of destroyed buildings. There was a stone monument of a Gear kneeling before an angel at the bottom.

"I remember last time I was in Mercy…" Sam lamented, seeing the statue. The Gears all piled out of the truck, and Delta Squad walked up to the statue.

"The statue is of Dom Santiago," Thomas whispered to the others, "He sacrificed his life to save Delta Squad here during the Lambent War. He was a good man. Clayton told me about him."

Theo didn't respond. It wasn't a particularly well-crafted statue, but it got the point across, of Delta Squad's sacrifices and valor. It finally sunk in that he was accompanying four heroes of Sera. He was under the command of Delta Squad…They were living legends, living pieces of history! If it weren't for them, the planet would be crawling with monsters Theodore had spent his early life running away from. After a few minutes of silence, Baird turned back to Hotel Squad.

"All right, we're going to split up. Sam, take Carmine, Stiff, and Redbeard. I'll take Dirtnose, Cole, and the noob."

"Noob?" Thomas gasped.

"Dirtnose!" Yassir growled. Theodore could understand why Yassir would be offended at being referred to with a racial pejorative.

"What? I had to think of something."

"I'm sorry, but I really don't appreciate that. Sir," Yassir said.

"And why is our squad being split up?" Thomas asked.

"Because the Lieutenant said so," Theo informed the younger Carmine, "Besides, if the Spook really is here, would you rather have Sergeant Byrne and Private Cole covering your ass, or Rudy and Yassir, who, between the two of them, have broken more cattle yokes than they have pumped a target with an entire magazine?"

"Okay, that's true…"

"Come on, Private. We're not splitting up until after we see that picture of the Spook anyway," Sam told him, and Baird led them to the main gate of the town. He gave them a wave.

"Who goes there!" the gate guard yelled. They couldn't see him.

"Lieutenant Baird, Delta Squad. We're Gears. Command sent us to pick up that picture of yours."

"Great. Come and take the last thing of value we've got, and leave us, just like in the fuckin' war!"

"Not this shit again," Baird sighed, "Listen, you Grubhole, we're here to protect your town! In fact, our orders are to become the Mercy Garrison for the next three damn months. So if you guys get attacked, guess who's going to be the one saving your asses?"

There was silence.

"Not a whole hell of a lot of good you'll do anyway," the guard finally emerged from his hiding place in a building behind the gate, "We took some shots at the Spooks when they were here last. Only fucking thing that did any good were the Longshot sniper rifles and grenades. Old Man Miller says he got through their shields with a knife, but-"

"Wait, what did you say? Shields?" Baird asked.

"Yeah, they have these personal force shields that just block our every shot. If they didn't have those, I'd bet we would have slaughtered the lot of them, they weren't very good soldiers. But there wasn't a fucking thing we could do, they just came along and shot us up, grabbed some people, went into their aircraft and left."

"So they fly aircraft?" Sam asked.

"That or fucking starships, I don't know. We hit it with a Boomshot, and it didn't scratch the thing. And it just took off when they left. Up. Strait up. I've never seen anything like it. Now that I think about it, none of them ever reloaded their guns, either. One of them seemed to have overheated his assault rifle, but…"

"I think we'd better get more details inside," Baird said, "Can we meet the mayor or whatever, the guy with the photo, and this Miller fellow?"

"I'll send it along," the guard said, and he opened the gate. Baird motioned to Cole, who went to the truck, and brought it through. It had more than just the Gears themselves, but it also had a lot of ammunition and guns. Theodore found himself wishing he'd spent more time with the sniper rifle, if it was true that was the only weapon that had thusfar proven useful. He led Hotel, but walked behind Clayton as they climbed through Mercy. It was a beautiful city in its prime, he could see that, but it was half obliterated after the Spooks had hit it. It was a shame, too, since the inhabitants were obviously doing their best to rebuild the town to its former glory.

They reached the central building, which had a gaping hole blown in the top of it, but from down here, he could tell was definitely someone's office. Or had been. Someone opened the door for them, and the two Gear squads entered. A slightly rotund man smiled at their arrival.

"Ah, finally, the Gears have come! I am Ramon Rodriguez, I am the mayor of this fine town of Mercy. It, uh, has seen better days. This is Guy Miller, as you requested, and Bob Torres. He took the picture of the Spook."

"Lieutenant Damon Baird, Twenty Fourth Royal Regiment, Delta Squad. This is Sergeant Sam Byrne, and this is Corporal Theodore Jester, leader of Hotel Squad. We're your Garrison. We'll get formal introductions out of the way later, but first, I want to see that picture, and send it off to Command as soon as possible."

Bob handed Baird a datapad, and they all took a look at the Spook. He was humanoid, slimmer than any Gear or even Locust drones. It had sickly yellow skin, bright lips, four eyes, and face ridges. Its ears were set farther back than a human's, and the back of its head was striped brown.

"And I thought Grubs were ugly," Clayton remarked.

"They're not the only Spooks," Miller spoke up, "I saw another one while I was fighting one of those. It looked like he was wearing armor all over his body, including the head. It also had four eyes, hunched over like this, had a hump as big as your torso. Had to be at least eight feet tall."

"Nobody else saw it, though," the mayor insisted.

"Nobody that wasn't taken or killed. He had a shotgun and a sword almost as big as he was. People were trying to kill it, but that shotgun, he just kept shooting. Never reloaded."

"You said that you got past their shields with a knife," Baird said, "What happened?"

"Well, we were defending the sewers, to prevent the Spooks from taking the people hiding there. We got fucking slaughtered. So I took my old Lancer, and charged one of them. I stabbed him through the gut, the shields didn't even flicker, I just went right through them. Gutted the son of a bitch, really scared the hell out of the others. They charged me back and started beating the shit out of me, and when I woke up, they were all gone, including the one I'd killed. I guess they figured they didn't want anyone who managed to kill one of them."

"Well, that's good news anyway. How many Spooks were there?"

"About twenty," the guard from earlier said. Theodore didn't even see him enter, "They overwhelmed us, then would use some sort of stun weapon on people they wanted to take. They didn't seem to be in a hurry. I'm pretty sure that they had more in the area around us."

"Now how did you find out that Longshots worked on them?" Baird asked.

"I shot one. It was wearing a helmet. I saw the shield sort of snap, and I reloaded, and blew his fucking head off."

"Ahehehe," Clayton couldn't keep that in. Theodore didn't blame him.

"All right," Baird hooked up the datapad to a communication device, and sent it off, "I would ask how you got this photo, but I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Miller, you have any training?"

"I fought the Locust and the Lambent if that's what you mean. Killed my share."

"Good enough for me. You, I didn't catch your name."

"Me? Diego Castellaneta."

"If shit goes down, I want you two to meet up with us. I'm going to put in an order for a lot of Longshots and some Retro Lancers. Standing orders are to snipe or engage in melee if the Spooks come back. Blow their heads off or gut them. Oh, and just so you know," Baird gave a wicked smile, producing the Hammer of Dawn targeter, "Command's given us an edge."