The sun was dripping behind the hills, casting shadow across the newly renamed Combat Outpost Lakatos, as Second Lieutenant Emilia Shepard leant against the sand-filled wire mesh barrier that made up the walls, smoking. She'd never been much of a smoker before they'd come to this shitty little planet, but she'd found it settled the nerves - and gave you something to do with your hands. Plus, she preferred the smell of tobacco smoke over the stink of the marshes.

Around her moved her Marines in their mud-streaked armour. Some of them were on watch, manning the machine guns mounted in the watchtowers, others were wrestling or playing cards or just sleeping.

She got a few nods, but for the most part they left their young commander in peace.

No one had ever told her that being the one officer in an infantry platoon would sometimes feel like you were entirely alone. Or that she'd struggle for days trying to think of how to word a letter to the parents of a man you watched die.

He didn't see it coming. Well, he had. He'd been the one to see it. He didn't feel any pain. Maybe. It'd been quick, if not a pretty way to die.

"Fuck." She dropped her cigarette and ground it out in the mud. She felt like she needed to move or do something, but this was part and parcel of war, or peacekeeping or whatever the fuck they were doing. You sat on your COP and hoped to be attacked just so the boredom wouldn't kill you.

Shepard and her Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Tan, had been sharing accomodation. A double hootchie, perched on the least shitty, least cracked mud the pair could find, was - and had been - their home for the past few months.

Tan, wearing his armour and greaves, but foregoing the helmet for a soft, steel-grey boonie hat this side of the wire, returned to their shared quarters. He looked displeased, but not quite grim.

He didn't bother to salute as he approached, throwing his rifle on top of his sleeping bag. "Ma'am? How are you? I just did a kit inspection on third squad. I've got a list of missing, ill-fighting, or damaged equipment." He handed her a datapad. "For your reading pleasure," he added dryly.

She took it and scanned it. "Fuck me, the drones are worse than useless in these conditions. I'll write it up for the company, but the skipper isn't going to be happy. We're still waiting on a replacement for the - for the truck we lost."

The IMV that had blown up with Shepard, Lakatos and Solar inside. They'd survived thanks to all the armour piled onto them, but the truck had been as fucked up as Solar's legs.

Tan gave her a hard look. One she was probably getting used to by now - that intensity, like he was solving a puzzle. His words, however, were much, much softer than his narrowed eyes.

"Would you like to take a walk with me, ma'am? I have something I'd like to talk about." It was a careful request, letting the Lieutenant know that he respected her right to be alone, but it was very clear that he thought it was in her best interest to accompany him.

She tossed the datapad inside the hooch to land on her sleeping bag for later. "Sure."

She fell into lockstep with him. Like Tan and a lot of the Marines she'd gotten tired of wearing full kit after a few weeks. She was wearing her body armour, pistol and open helmet, but not the full sealed hardsuit.

Shepard wasn't looking forward to her next conversation with Cormac. After the ambush, the Marines at COP Lakatos had started taking fire more regularly. The assholes would use the larger hill nearby to get firing positions on the COP despite her platoon patrolling daily. At least she'd been given a militia mortar team to supplement her light infantry platoon. ta

They hadn't gotten far before Tan spoke. "How's your fiancee, ma'am? Have you been managing to stay in touch?"

"Yeah, I send her emails. Not getting much vid time though," she said, distracted, "Richards! Are you watching that hill?"

Corporal Richards jerked, surprised, from her post in the nearby 'watchtower' - really just stacked barrier blocks with a sandbag and plywood roof. "Yes ma'am?"

"Are you asking me?" Shepard asked, her voice taking on a harsh edge.

"I - no, ma'am, sorry ma'am. I'm keeping an eye on it."

"Good," the lieutenant said shortly.

"If you see movement, we can see about getting the mortar on it right away," he added. They continued on.

"I'm glad. Was it jarring, becoming a mustang? There's two Marine Corps', isn't there? I remember what it was like being a junior enlisted - and I'm sure you do too. Very different."

Shepard shot Tan an appraising look. "It's very different, yeah. I miss being a corporal sometimes. I hope that I never forget what it's like being a lance corporal or a PFC. I don't ever want to end up like fuckin' Lieutenant Ringknocker." referring to her shipboard roommate, Lieutenant Dowdy, "What's with the twenty questions tonight, S'arnt?"

Tan led her over to the side of a makeshift shed, where cans, MREs and the sparingly few fridges were slowly perishing. He sighed. "We've made a good team, ma'am. In a lot of ways. It's because of our respective histories, our chemistry, and most importantly, our ability to speak openly with one another. This brings me no pleasure." He sighed once more.

"You've had your first death under your command. I hear things. I see things. Between the two of us, I hope, we find little room for secrets. I'm a little worried, ma'am. And I wouldn't be doing my duty to you or the platoon if I didn't check in. You're my Marine as much as I'm yours."

"I'm okay," she insisted, "I - a few nightmares, but that's usual, right?" She still didn't know how to word her email describing how he'd died to his family, but that was usual too. Right?

Tan smiled, but his eyes crinkled the wrong way, tinged with sadness. "If there's one word that doesn't go along with this process, it's 'usual'."

His smile faded and a more open, yet hollow, look appeared on his face instead. "And it is a process. But that's why I play twenty questions. I know it's hard, right? You can't jot down your thoughts to your fiance, can you? And you're the only officer out this far. We're the most lonely people in the galaxy. Lonesome and grief are the worst couple."

She crossed her arms, staring at the muddy ground. "We were all joking around. Before the IED. What if I missed something?"

Lakatos had been laughing, brown eyes lit up. He'd been kind and funny, and now he was very dead, and Shepard had seen his face get blown off. How was that fair?

"I won't lie and say it's not possible. But an IED? How many vehicles do they knock out in a year? It's unlikely. Besides, you can't help building a rapport with those you spend the most time with."

Tan sighed a third time, breaking his gaze with Shepard's face to examine his hands for a moment, but then his eyes levelled again. "We live in this reality. What you did, after the vehicle was hit, was exactly correct. And that quick thinking, refusing to be rattled, you saved Solar's life. If there's one thing I've learned, it's to not dwell on mistakes or what could have been."

"I feel like I let him down," she admitted quietly, "he always had my back."

"He did. But that doesn't mean you let him down. You'd be hard pressed to find a Marine who thought their life matters more than the Marine standing next to them. Lakatos wouldn't have traded with either of you."

"I know." It was true. No one wanted anyone to die for them."It just- fuck, it sucks. It wasn't even slaves." She kicked an empty can that someone had left on the floor. It hit the side of the shed with a metallic ring. "I know it's stupid but I really thought I could bring everyone home."

"I'm sorry. We'll always try. But, sometimes we can't. And it does fucking suck when we can't. You're not stupid for hoping, Shepard."

"Yeah," she rubbed her face, "Fuck this planet, honestly. Are the Marines holding up?"

Lakatos had been well liked.

"As best as they can. Morale will always take a dive after we lose someone. Lakatos was…" Tan smiled again, but this time there was some mirth to it. "Unique. We're all looking forward to getting off the line and giving him a proper send off."

"Yeah." She smiled as well. He had been special, "Remember when he called Vanh 'mum'? I know he'd want us to raise a few drinks in his honour. His parents asked me what happened but I haven't been able to finish the email yet."

Tan chortled. "No one would have ever let him forget it. 'Does mum need to get you some milk, Lakatos?'" He let the smile fade.

"That's one particular part of the job I don't have much experience in, unfortunately. If you need help though, I'm happy to. Of course, if you feel like this is something you need to do yourself, I understand. I don't envy that position."

"I know I can't make it pretty, you know?" she shook her head, "He was brave, but it's not like he jumped on that grenade. He just - died. He didn't have a chance."

"They rarely do," the Staff Sergeant lamented. "That's the true horror of war, of battle, I feel. The chaotic… randomness of it. Sure, we have tactics, but sometimes… sometimes someone catches a stray bullet, or a grenade lands too close. But that's our horror to bear, not our parents or friends."

"Yeah. I just. I guess I can just put the facts, without the gory details. They don't need to know that." But she couldn't lie either. "And I can tell them how much we all loved him." She had. He'd been not just a good Marine but a good man. The kinda guy you wanted on your six.

"He tried hard, for sure. He wanted the platoon to like him and he wanted to do good. He would have made it far." But, sadly, he wouldn't anymore. "But you're right. They don't need the gory details. I'm here, if you feel the need to share that. And when we get back to an honest-to-God Marine Corps base, you can talk with a priest or a shrink. Whatever you need."

"Yeah." She gave him a thin smile, "Thanks for the chat, Tan."

Grey evening fell over the COP and the two of them in degrees.

"Anytime. I mean it. And do try and keep up with your officer friends where you can, too." He grinned at her. "You're definitely the most well-adjusted one I know, but the rest of them might have similar experiences. Oorah?"

"Oorah, Staff Sergeant. I'm gonna turn in for the night and try and write this letter."

Back in the hooch Shepard sat cross-legged on her sleeping back and brought up her omnitool.

Mr and Mrs Lakatos...