Khalee knew something was wrong, she just didn't know what. Jack's entire group—including Jack herself—failed to turn up for breakfast. Biotics never missed a meal if they could help it.

Finally, she opened the door to the team house to find…nothing. Empty bunks, most possessions left behind, their equipment and packs gone. Her mouth fell open as she regarded the carnage. It looked like every member of the unit had packed up in a hurry and hadn't bothered being tidy about it.

But something wasn't quite right; a small noise, rather tinny, like music piping through someone else's headset. She followed the sound and discovered a datapad, the volume turned very low, playing a video feed. The bed was Jack's.

Khalee picked up the datapad with shaking fingers, with a weight like a stone in her stomach, got lost in the video recording. She panned back to the beginning. Jack's face with her big eyes appeared against the backdrop of great activity.

"Hey, Khalee. Look, we know what's up: the big push? It's happening soon. It's great that the Brass wants to keep the kids safe, but it's stupid. We took a vote, we're all in agreement, so we're all going to the big show. Might want to get discharge papers for the one who enlisted set up. Just in case."

Classic Jack, she didn't sound like she cared much for the bureaucratic process. Neither did Khalee herself, at the moment. In fact, hearing that the decision was unanimous floored her.

"So…yeah. This is probably goodbye. We'll be on the ground by the time stuff really starts happening. Maybe do some real damage." With that, Jack propped the datapad so it could record the frenzy of activity, unit members demanding the whereabouts of their equipment, Jack reminding them they didn't need as much as they usually carried so only worry about the basics, Eezo barking and snapping as if to punctuate Jack's statements.

Finally, the room emptied. Jack appeared briefly to end the recording and presumably to place the datapad where Khalee had found it.

Khalee swallowed, hoping that the unit's actual assignment really had been a way to keep them away from Earth, a last benevolent attempt to protect these kids, even though they'd been doing the work of adults for some time. In most cases, they did it well. There might still be some stigma towards biotics, but those kids were changing that, little by little, with every person their biotic barrages or barriers saved.

Khalee swallowed again, opening her omnitool. Predictable, neither Jack, nor Prangley, nor Rodriguez picked up the call, and she tried them each in turn.

There was nothing left to do but to inform their up-line that the team had unilaterally set off for Earth…and try to argue their position for them.

-J-

"You mutinied?!" David Anderson demanded, trying not to shout and mostly succeeding.

"It was a stupid-ass decision," Jack snapped back. "And we're here now, so—"

"How do you know your job wasn't to hold a flank to keep an open path for other forces?" Anderson demanded sharply, glad to see some of the teens surrounding Jack begin to look nervous and chastened.

"Not where they were sending us," Jack answered with a grin. "I thought about that. Nah. They're just worried about kids in a battle—why I don't know. They've been handling it fine since they got to the big leagues."

Anderson took a slow, deep breath. "As their commander, I'd like to speak with your privately."

"I'm not shy. Whatever you've got to say, I'm okay if they hear it," Jack fired back.

Anderson pinned her with his best N7-giving-orders glare. "Privately," he growled. "The rest of you, off to the infirmary. Jia will be giving you orders for the time being—get moving."

The biotics all slunk away, following the aide who motioned them in the direction they should go.

"Are you really pissed off that the cavalry's here?" Jack asked.

"I'm pissed off because the military does things for a reason, and not everyone is told what that reason is! This is exactly the sort of thing that compromises operations: assets moving before they should!"

"Please, everyone knows this is coming. There's nothing left to do but try to dislodge these pyjack-f—"

"As far as you know," Anderson cut across her obscenity. "Now listen to me. You're here, you're stuck here, so I can't send you back. But so help me, from now on, you and your assets do as you're told, when you're told, how you're told, because I won't have you messing up my ground war with cute little improvisations!"

Jack opened her mouth; he could see her bristling, disliking the voice of authority. But nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, ignoring the growling varren at her knee, something in her posture bent.

"Good. Now get after your kids. You're rolling bandages and moving corpses until I can figure out what to do with you. Dismissed."

Jack gave him one insolent look…then complied.

Anderson shook his head once she was gone. On the one hand, he'd just had an enormous bit of firepower dropped in his lap. On the other hand, there was no knowing what their unilateral action would mean elsewhere. He understood and even sympathized with the desire to be here, on Earth, for the big push…but there had to be another way to get here.

"What are you going to do with them, sir?" Hopkins asked uneasily, unaccustomed to seeing that level of disturbance from Anderson.

"Put them to work," Anderson grumbled, shaking his head. "There'll be plenty to go around, soon. Meanwhile, send a text-only communication to Khalee Sanders. Tell her I found her purse." She was probably going crazy with worry, and hadn't contacted him directly for fear of making the kids' movements even more obvious.

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." Anderson heaved another sigh. Well, they were here now. He'd just have to roll with it.