"Hey, Papa!" Svetlana Kurz called down the hall as Admiral Janek Kurz closed the door behin him and put his jacket on a hook on the wall.

"Hey, sweetie. How was school?" She turned her head to receive a small kiss on the cheek. If he'd ever done anything right, it would be raising her. After the death of her mother times had been hard. He had almost lost himself in his work, began staying away from home weeks at a time, then Hephaistos happened. That godforsaken hellhole not only robbed the IMC of thousands of promising souls, but had also been theater for one of the most disgusting atrocities the war had seen yet.

"Boooring. But I've got an A for my essay. You know, pathopsychology?"

"That weird thing. And? Can animals become criminals?" He smiled at her. She was so similar to her mother. Much too smart for him to properly follow all the time. She'd always tell him how wrong he was when he said that he was too dumb to follow. He wasn't, he knew. He just thought different than her or her mother. Their thoughts were chaotic and messy, but they would always produce a result. Linda always had an answer, it just took some moments sometimes.

She punched him lightly in the arm, chuckling. "This is not what it was about. Humans can become criminals because they're self aware."

"So it's a philosophical question then?"

"I got an A!"

"I heard you. Come here, I'm so proud of you."

"Also, you have a visitor." Svetlana said while they hugged.

"A visitor?"

"Yeah. Johnny? He said he served with you. He wanted to wait outside first, but I told him to come inside. He's in the kitchen right now."

"What did I tell you about letting strangers in?" He wasn't too happy now and she could see that.

"I know, dad, I thought you knew him. But he is very nice. Like I said, he didn't even ask to come in. He just wanted to see you. I didn't like to see him sit out there in the cold, so I just showed him around a bit."

He sighed as she made these eyes he was unable to be mad at. "Alright. Let's see."

"Johnny! He's here!"

They moved towards the kitchen. Svetlana pulling her father after her. His hand instinctively wandered behind his back where his automatic was fastened in a subtle concealed holster. He almost drew it as he caught sight of his 'visitor'.

Grey eyes peered at him from a young face. The man was not older than Svetlana. Maybe nineteen or twenty. Dark hair was neatly cut in a military style. Short on the sides, longer on top, held in place by a slight amount of wax or something. He stood up when he saw them.

"Admiral." He made a lax salute to the man in the white uniform, which was varily reciprocated. The man wore mostly a black BDU-set that was arranged loosely, more like civilian clothing. Kurz though, noticed the shirt straining below the man's coat and the heavy boots, while the young man stepped around the table to shake his hand.

"And you are?" He shook the man's hand, well aware that he must have already noticed his other hand behind his back, on the gun.

"Ah, of course." Both sat down at the kitchen table after the young man had gestured to it. Svetlana seated herself at the head of the table and grabbed a bowl of strawberries which she began to eat with a little fork. A few fleeting glances thrown at the visitor. "We met on Hephaistos, some time ago. I was part of the planetary defense force. Just a rifleman back then."

"We did?" The Admiral strained his mind, trying to remember the disaster that had been Hephaistos.

"Yeah. I killed Captain Stenton after he had destroyed the colony."

The metallic clatter of the fork hitting the ground was the only noise audible for the next few seconds. Svetlana looked at her father, fear now in her face. Who had she left into their home? Kurz just stared, his eyes never leaving the man across from him. The gun was now in his hand, however still hidden from view. And the young man? He had leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"Richter was it? Jonathan? I saw you on the bridge."

He nodded. "Right. You helped me back then. But now I'm not Trooper Richter of the 12th Hephaistean Voluntary Defense Forces anymore."

"Then who might you be?"

"Captain Jonathan Richter. 1st Heavy Recon, 4th Special Operations Detachment." Kurz froze as he recognised these words. He had read them countless times in reports, heard of their exploits and the consequences, had witnessed firsthand the destruction that SOD4 could leave behind if they wished. Now 'Heavy Recon' was also a term anybody high enough in the career ladder of the IMC knew too well. As innocent as 'recon' sounded, the 'heavy' was to be emphasised. These groups were always comprised of small numbers with exceptional equipment and training. They operated behind enemy lines and carried out acts of sabotage, guerilla warfare and... assassination.

"So you're with the Militia now." The Admiral stated and the look of horror on Svetlana's face grew only worse as the young man, Richter nodded. She had let the enemy into their house. The people her father had been fighting for over thirty years now. But he had been so nice to her. Sure a little shy, even though that had only flattered her to be honest, but obviously smart and respectful. Now she actually felt betrayed.

"I am. Also I know of the gun in your hand. Put it on the table." He hesitated, but complied. Placing the short P2016 SK on the table and sliding it over to the intruder, who grabbed it, unloaded it and quickly stripped off the slide with one hand. He then raised his own right hand above the tabel, to show the RE-45 he held there. Clicking the safety on he holstered it.

"Admiral Locke is dead, as well as his wife and the son they adopted." He announced and Kurz had to close his eyes for a second to control his fear. He wasn't scared for his life, but for that of his daughter. As far as he knew, nobody knew who was part of the SOD4 and that had a reason.

"Leave my daughter out of this."

"We didn't do it. Everyone who knows something about Hephaistos just dies. Commanders, survivors, investigators. We suspect someone high up is covering their tracks. Last week, a whole IMC destroyer just exploded. Twelve hundred dead, only fifteen of them had been veterans of Hephaistos. Someone in the IMC is killing off potential witnesses and they do it with extreme prejprejudice."

"You think they'll come here next?"

"Sooner or later. To me, this looks like someone has lost their mind. Slaughtering people left and right while IMC authorities just stand by and watch." The Admiral's mind raced. He had read the reports alright. The man was telling the truth so far. Even the bit about each and every one having been on Hephaistos somehow. It was a detail that had slipped right by him. But even though he was starting to doubt his own security now, how could he trust a deserter and traitor?

"What do you want?"

"The Militia wants to find out what has happened on Hephaistos that has warranted the killing of over twelve thousand people. I want to save you. I still owe you."

"And why should I believe you? Or trust you?"

The man fell silent for a few moments before answering. His voice was now lower and the Admiral felt the sadness radiate off of him.

"I lost everything on that colony. My mother died when I was young. I don't remember her that much. My father... well you knew him." The Admiral nodded. Manfred Richter had been a soldier through and through. Ruthless, sure, but honest and always considerate of any collateral damage. For him, the line was clear. Everyone who opposed him was prey, all others were to be left unaharmed. He had made a name for himself as a dangerous, but still fair and 'gentlemanly' adversary. He made a point of never employing torture or executing prisoners, even to the point of defying explicit orders. His employer, General Marder had been furious back then. Even calling him a traitor, but APEX didn't care. The mercenaries were fighters, not murderers and Richter embodied this mindset to the fullest. The young Richter surely must have had a rough childhood, but if he was raised by his father, this idea of honour must have rubbed off on him.

"So when I came to Hephaistos, I had nothing, except for my studies and a few acquaintances. But I met Rachel there." He looked over to Svetlana, then back at Janek Kurz. "You would have liked her. I guess she was much like your daughter. Well, she was blonde, but she too had that naively good nature, that open way of talking to people. Thought about everyone else before she thought of herself. Took me a while to fully appreciate that."

Suddenly a few things cleared up for Kurz. He remembered the sluggish movements and slurred speech he had heard from the young soldier back then. He had guessed he was in shock and it seemed he had been right.

"Someone destroyed the colony?" Svetlana asked, shrinking into her seat as Richter's eyes fell on her.

"Glassed it. All that was left was crystallised ash and rubble. I couldn't even bury her. There was just nothing left of her."

"And that's why you killed Stenton." The Admiral stated.

"Yes. Though in retrospect, I guess I played someone elses cards. Someone would have come for him, I just spared them a few weeks of work. I also wanted to go after Locke but someone beat me to it. Someone made it look like death by autoerotic asphyxiation. I like to think a tie can't produce strangling marks like this." He threw a photograph over to the Admiral, then another and another, until a total of sixteen pictures rested on the table before him. All of them showed dead men and women, with various degrees of damage done to them.

"So what now?" Kurz finally asked, after he had reviewed each of them carefully.

"I am ready to evacuate you and Svetlana to a Militia world. Lanka is a lush green agricultural world, far from the IMC's range of influence. You'd be safe there." The Admiral nodded grimly. Svetlana spoke up, timidly.

"We... have to leave?" Richter almost couldn't bear to look at her. "What about my school? My friends? We wanted to go to the sea, it's already planned." It was clear that her mind prohibited her from fully grasping the situation. Janek Kurz put his hand on hers.

"I'm so sorry. But he is right. I knew some of these people personally. We'll be in danger if we stay."

"You'll be dead if you stay." Richter received a glare from Kurz at this remark.

"Pack what you need. Identification will be reissued once we reach Militia space. Just take what is most necessary to you. We leave in twenty minutes."

The Admiral nodded, his eyes hard and emitting a certain sadness, but Richter knew of his resolve. He would be strong, for his daughter if not for himself. Fifteen minutes later, the Admiral and his daughter had packed two large cases with their essentials. Clothes, some electronic devices, all the documents needed to transfer funds from IMC space to the frontier and a few personal items. Pictures of Sheila, Janek's dead wife and Svetlana's mother. He was just about to help his daughter to get a few last things from the top of a cupboard as he saw the Pilot standing in the doorway, a combat knife in his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Your arm." Kurz understood and relaxed. He remembered that, as a highranking military officer, the IMC had implanted self sustaining surveillance beacons on him and his family. Originally to keep them safe and protect their own assets, now undoubtedly to make it impossible for him to hide.

He tuck his arm out, turning the palm of his hand up, so Richter was able to see the underside of his wrist. There, between artery and vein, the beacon was faintly visible beneath the flesh. His daughter threw him a concerned look and he tried to calm her with a reassuring smile while the pilot grabbed his arm. However he was unable to suppress a small grunt of pain as Richter poked the tip of the large blade into his skin and below the beacon. A few droplets of blood fell on the ground as he turned the knife and as Kurz looked back at the pilot, he saw the man, slowly turning the pill-shaped device between his thumb and indexer, before he turned to his daughter.

"Careful, soldier." Kurz almost barked at him, nursing his own wrist. The incision was precise, but still deep and bled strongly. He fished a pack of padded gauze from a first aid kit on their bathroom wall and returned to the other two. The picture was sufficiently bizarre. The young soldier kneeled before the girl as if proposing, her right arm in his left hand. The knife's blade, now clean again, hovered above her light skin.

"Look at the list. Is everything on there?" The pilot said softly as he gestured at the touchpad that Svetlana had used to organize her sparse luggage. She seemed confused, but nevertheless took the device and started to double check her packing, murmuring and receiving short answers from the soldier. She gasped in slight shock as he cut the beacon out of her arm. The little operation didn't last longer than two seconds.

"Sir? Can we depart?" He said, standing after he had applied a bandage to the girl's arm.

"Yes. What's the plan now?"

"My gunship will pick us up. Then we will exit the atmosphere before IMC trackers can identify us and jump out of the system to our forward battle fleet. The most difficult part will be getting to our extraction point." Richter walked through the apartment while talking, his eyes searching for somethinsomething until he had seemingly decided something. Carefully, he placed the Admiral's tracker implant at his desk, where it rolled under a small pile of paperwork and threw Svetlana's on her bed, under one of her pillows.

"I have a car waiting outside. Try to avoid looking suspicious when we go. Just put your bags in the trunk and make yourself comfortable." All three of them were at the front door.

"It's going to be okay, sweety. I promise."

Sir, were you expecting visitors?"

"...No."