"So what do you think, Grit?"

"I think if you flipped a coin fer each of her sentences, saying every tails was true would be optimistic," Grit said.

"Yes, I get it, Lash is untrustworthy," Sonja said. "But what do you think of her proposal?"

Grit frowned. He pulled his hat on as they exited the main doors of the facility, and the two of them were once again exposed to the harsh atmosphere. He looked back at Sonja with consternation, and not a small amount of concern.

"So you're taking it seriously then."

"Why not?" Sonja asked. "Truth be told, it fits perfectly in line with everything I came to Blue Moon for in the first place."

"And that doesn't see suspicious to you at all," he said.

"What, are you suggesting Lash foresaw my decision to utilize Black Hole technology in the reconstruction of Wars World? That she managed to set up some elaborate trap involving her past compatriots before she was incarcerated, and is now somehow controlling them from within the prison?"

"Well when you put it like that…" Grit started.

"Well, I think so too. And I want to find out what her endgame is," Sonja said. She continued walking a few steps before realizing that Grit had fallen behind. She turned back to find a baffled expression on his face.

"You know it, but you… this has all been…?" He scratched the back of his neck and shook his head. "It never occurred to you that the easiest way to 'win' this game ain't ta play?" he asked.

"Grit," Sonja said, giving him a level expression. "This is Lash we're talking about. Do you really think not playing is an option?"


General Olaf's disorderly, comical demeanor had dissolved once Sonja had detailed her plans to him. His words were curt, to the point, and decidedly negative.

"I don't like it."

The answer hardly came as surprising. "None of us like it, General Olaf," Sonja said.

Grit, leaning against the far wall, watching the proceedings, snorted at that.

"What was that for, Grit?" Sonja asked, shooting him a dangerous gaze.

"Spit in a bucket is all," he said, waving dismissively.

She scowled and turned back to Olaf, who was sitting in a large luxurious chair in front of the fireplace of his personal quarters. He was looking distantly into a painting on the mantle: a brown-haired Olaf, mounted atop a horse perched on a snowdrift with his village spread out behind him. He reached for a glass of spirits on the table beside his chair, and Sonja spotted an almost imperceptible shake before he noticed and corrected it. He swallowed the contents of the glass in one gulp and snorted.

"She hasn't finished her term yet," Olaf said. There was a gruffness to his voice, a solemn gruffness that came from genuine upset, rather than the callous façade that he usually put out to hide his softer side. Sonja was seeing in Olaf a wounded bear, and she knew she would have to speak very carefully to not induce its fight or flight response.

"I'm not asking you to commute it – Lash's sentence can be carried out just as well in Yellow Comet as it would be in Blue Moon."

"Sure of that, are you?" Olaf said.

"You're choosing now to question my conviction?" Sonja asked.

Olaf turned and met her eyes. Something he saw there softened his expression. "No, I suppose not."

Grit decided to take the opportunity to chime in. "Why yellow comet though?"

Both Sonja and Olaf turned towards him in surprise. Sonja hadn't been expecting to have to make an argument against both Grit and Olaf, and she was left momentarily speechless. Grit, lacking an answer to his question, elaborated.

"Ya plan to have Lash chuck up the plans to her various gizmos, right? Why does that have to happen in Yellow Comet? There's plenty in Blue Moon to fix."

"O-of course," Sonja said, her mind reeling to put together an argument.

"Grit presents an interesting point, for once," Olaf said, giving the lanky man a suspicious glance. But it was a glance quickly turned on Sonja. "Your plan works just as well here as in your homeland."

Sonja's gears were turning so fast that they were beginning to strip. Manipulating a person was hard; manipulating two was nearly impossible. She decided to change tactics.

"You're right; it would work just as well," Sonja said. "But it's my plan and my expertise, and Yellow Comet needs the aid just as much." Her gaze drifted from Olaf to Grit, whose sudden shift in role had left her confused. Her eyes sought the smallest clue to his motivation in his passive expression. Grit met her eyes, and an intensity was there that she hadn't recognized before.

"But the monkey is in our cage," Grit said.

Sonja's eyes shined. "So we've agreed that the plan is solid, and now we're just arguing over terms."

Both sets of eyes then turned to Olaf. The general had begun to feel out of the loop, and suddenly he was the center of attention again. His gaze darted from Sonja to Grit and back again, and he audibly expressed his disapproval of the whole situation with a complex and intricate grumble.

"I don't like it," Olaf said. But this time, he said it with resignation.