80 Klicks West of Port Farrall
Present Day
I could tell them. I could tell them all right now. I could get it over with, explain what happened, what I did, why I did it. Cole wouldn't blame me. Anya and Baird wouldn't. Dom? Not sure. But Marcus…no, he's got his rules. He'd think I was an animal.
- Bernadette Mataki's inner thoughts on the trip to Vectes.
The nauseating scent of vomit swirled in the air, unsettling my already delicate stomach. Cole kept flashing me apologetic looks – at least until the raven shifted course, then he leaned out the bulkhead door to lose the very last remnants of his lunch. The ballistics vest Dom had forced me to wear was scratching the back of my neck. I felt unnecessarily bulky while wearing it, and adjusted it again, trying unsuccessfully to find a way for it to drape more comfortably.
Almost there, I thought to myself while my stomach did another flip. Still not sure that's a good thing…
Hoffman had decided to send Delta as a forward scouting party to Vectes – the old military research island that Prescott was conveniently claiming was habitable. Of course, even if the place was still a radioactive biohazard it was probably healthier than staying and freezing to death in Port Farrall. I hadn't expected to be invited – hell, the islands were the last place on Sera I ever wanted to go – but for the past week Dom had refused to let me out of his sight. When Hoffman had given orders to Delta, Dom had all but insisted he be allowed to bring me along. And I got the feeling Hoffman hadn't been inclined to deny Dom anything.
A few days after Dom's…incident with Darvish, Hoffman had called me into a meeting. The Colonel's office had been nothing more than a tiny, old back room in the remains of an imulsion station. It had a generator, though, and a sturdy enough roof to place communication antennas. In Hoffman's eyes it was almost homey.
He had pointed to an old metal chair and invited me to sit. At the time I hadn't been sure if Hoffman was going to recruit me, banish me, or interrogate me. As he settled behind the card table he used as a desk, I wasn't sure if he knew either. Instead he had fixed me with a hard stare, then smiled.
"So you're Sylvia, then?" He said with a bit of surprise in his voice. "Hell, kid. I remember the night you were born. Same night Dom earned his Embry Star. Hell of a good man – wish I had about fifty more of him."
I nodded while my finger played absentmindedly with the cuffs of my sleeves. I still wasn't sure what the Colonel was looking for.
"Yeah, there's not a lot I wouldn't do for Dom. Probably shouldn't admit that, but it's true." He leaned forward and his chair whined quietly with the shifting of his weight. "So if I found out someone was playing him…taking advantage of him…well, there's not a whole lot I wouldn't do to them."
Ah. So this was a threat then. "You think I'm lying?"
"Maybe. It's always a possibility, and I didn't make it this far without considering all the possibilities. You've got Marcus convinced, at least."
I had stared him down, considering if it was even worth it to defend myself. "The night I was born – the attack on Aspho Fields. That's when Dom earned his Embry Star, as did Marcus, as did my uncle Carlos. Carlos died that night, which is why my middle name is Carla – named after him.
"I used to have an older brother named Bennie. He took a bullet for me on E-day, which is why I'm here and he's not. My mother – Maria – she used to make the best mac'n'cheese. Just the boxed stuff, but somehow hers was the best. She smelled like green apple shampoo, and used to keep a calendar on the wall. We'd mark down the days until Dad had a three-day pass to come home."
The past few days I had been reminiscing, trying to remember anything I could about my life before the Locust. There were precious few memories – mostly scraps and flashes – but once I stopped repressing them, they had come with surprising ease.
I met Hoffman's stare with an even gaze. "I'm not playing him. I'm not going to hurt him, either. So I appreciate you looking out for your man, sir, but with all due respect – fuck off."
There had been a moment when Hoffman was either going to start yelling or start swinging, but instead he burst into laughter. "I'll be damned if you don't have your father's spirit. About damned time something went right for that boy. Alright, then, Bri is it?
And that was it. Somehow a society that I had been desperate to join for years accepted me with no problems simply because I finally had the secret password 'Dom Santiago is my father'. It was almost enough to piss me off. But, at the end of the day, it didn't really matter. Dom's name had opened the door for me, but I was determined not to ride his coattails; from here on out, I was going to have to prove myself.
Of course, leaving behind the mainland and everything I had ever known was terrifying. I knew that this would be a one-way trip if the island turned out to be habitable. It's worth it, I reminded myself, trying to sound convincing.
Dom nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. Up until now he had been fiddling with something small in his hands, but now he held it out to me like an offering. It was a paper bird – a swan, no, a crane – that he had painstakingly folded into shape out of a small square of butcher's paper. I took it gently with a smile. This, I decided. This was why I could leave everything else behind. For the chance to have an actual family again. Everyone who had come close to filling that hole – Ace, Momma – were dead and gone now. Dom was all I had left, and I was all he had as well. So, yeah. I could handle living on an island.
Dom still concerned me, however. What happened with Darvish had seemed entirely out of character, yet everyone seemed ok with it. Well, maybe not Marcus. It had been subtle, but I had caught a faint atmosphere of tension between the two. Like now; Marcus was sitting across from us with his arms crossed and eyes closed. He wasn't asleep, however. There was just a bit too much tension in his expression to be relaxed. Every now and again his lips would move slightly, like he was arguing with himself under his breath.
A stir of action broke me out of my quiet musings. A few people – Cole, Bernie, Anya – had stood and were looking out the open door. Curious, I got up and joined them. Anya gave me a warm smile and shifted to the side so I get peer around her. She was wearing a scavenged chest plate and had a lancer slung on her back. It was a harsh contradiction to the grey skirt and tight, blonde bun I had first seen her in.
Anya had been another conversation I'd made sure I had before we took flight. I had managed to track her down in the CIC a few days after my meeting with Hoffman. She had a large map of the Lesser island chain on a plywood table. One corner of the map kept trying to roll up on her; she looked up when I pressed my finger on it, holding it in place.
"I, uh…I owe you a major apology," I had told her. She had looked confused, so I tried to explain. "I've been an asshole to you for weeks now, and you've done absolutely nothing to deserve that. So, you know, I'm sorry."
Anya leaned against the table with a vaguely amused look on her face. "Apology accepted," she said. "But you've been under some incredible pressure these few weeks, too. I wasn't taking it personally."
"Yeah, well…I'm not that bitchy. Usually. And hell, you've practically kept the entire coalition running since E-day! You deserve more respect."
That vague hint of amusement finally blossomed into a laugh. "Not quite, but I'll take the compliment."
I stepped further into the room and gave it a curious once-around. The CIC was little more than a receptionist desk in a semi-derelict office building. Communications had been the first thing set up, and antennae wires crisscrossed the floor in a haphazard pattern. A few maps were pinned against the walls, some with red circles drawn on, others with coordinates scribbled on in pencil. It looked like a disaster zone, but the longer I stared the more I could see some semblance of coordination. "So, you're Sylvia," Anya interrupted my casual investigation.
"Yeah. I prefer to go by Bri, though. Mostly its habit. No one has called me 'Sylvia' since I was like, four."
"Understandable. You know, your dad and I go back quite a bit. Even before you were born."
I gave her a reproachful stare. "Is this the part where you threaten to kill me if I hurt him?"
"Do I need to?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Hoffman already beat you to the punch. And Marcus hasn't so much has said anything threatening, but I get the feeling he's also not the guy I want to piss off."
"Dom's a great guy. It makes sense he's got a lot of people feeling protective of him. Especially with Maria-" She looked as if she just remembered that Maria was my mom. "I mean -"
Luckily, the door had opened at that moment and spared us any further awkwardness. Marcus had stood in the doorway looking vaguely surprised to see me with Anya. I had used his arrival to utter a quick goodbye to the Lieutenant, and squeezed past Marcus.
But that conversation has soothed things over between Anya and me. She had even helped Dom convince Hoffman to allow me on this mission to Vectes. Currently, Anya was holding on to the 'oh shit' handle above the Raven's door and pointing something out to me. I leaned past her and nodded when I saw what she was pointing at – Vectes.
The air circulating in through the open door was warm, fresh, and crisp – completely unlike the vaguely industrial scents that plagued Jacinto. On the mainland there had always been an undercurrent of sewage from broken sewer pipes, faint smells of decay and rot, and the scent of burning imulsion and exhaust that caught in the back of your throat. Here it smelled salty, like green plants and fresh dirt.
Vectus was mostly uphill. The highest point of the island was an inactive volcano with the peak sunk in on itself. A caldera, I think it was called. Down the windward side of the mountain was where the naval research base had been. Further out from that, there had been a small housing district – a town – then some farmland. The port was on the northern side of the island; something about the slope of the ocean floor being better for docking ships. All of this had been covered in our debriefing before we had ever set foot on the Raven.
The sun shone brightly above the horizon, turning the surf below into diamonds. Except for a small strip of sand skirting the edge of the island everything was colored a vibrant, healthy green. Ok, Chairman, I thought to myself. Good call.
As the Raven approached the island more details came into focus. There were fields in full bloom with defined edges – plowed and tilled. Which meant the island was definitely inhabited. Fields didn't tend themselves. That meant the bioweapons research hadn't gotten out of control and accidently killed everyone. Of course, it didn't mean that the people here would be friendly, either.
We passed over another field – barley from the looks of it – and a man in the field straightened. He watched the pair of Ravens for a beat, maybe two, before turning and running towards a small brick building. Well, now they know we're here. The Raven turned eastwards towards where the town used to be. Gettner followed a dirt road around the winding hills and further inland. I could see everyone around me taking turns talking, but without a radio or headset I was deaf to the conversation.
In the distance a group of buildings cropped up. None of them were over a couple of stories tall, but they were all still standing and in relatively good shape. Nothing like the bombed-out rubble that covered most of the mainland. I felt the Raven shift again, heading closer to the group of buildings, and preparing to land. I pulled my lancer off of my back and held it low but ready – more out of habit rather than expectation. Gettner had picked a nice high rise to land, overlooking most of the town but not too far away should we need a quick evac. I could already see lots of people filtering out of the buildings, drawn in by the sound of the Raven.
As the blades of the helo died down I could finally hear something other than engine noises for the first time in hours. "Anya, Mataki, on me. Everyone else hang back. Let's go say hello," Marcus ordered. He jumped down out of the Raven almost lazily, landing in the grass with his weight balanced solidly on his feet.
Suddenly there was a sharp Crack! as a shotgun let loose a shell. The shot was either poorly aimed, or meant to go over Marcus' head.
"Hold your fire! Delta – stand down!" Marcus ordered in that biting, grizzled sergeant voice. I had fallen into cover beside to door to the Raven, lancer raised, without consciously thinking about it. It was a reflex; return fire when fired upon.
Dom had a hand on my shoulder. He wordlessly positioned himself in front of me as he too stepped off of the Raven. I anxiously scanned the faces of the crowds: most of them didn't appear to have weapons, but one brown-faced man in front still held a shotgun aimed level with Marcus. "Hey, I'm not shooting, citizen," Marcus said. He had his lancer slung and his hands raised slightly, palms facing outwards. His voice had changed, too. He had an almost posh finish when he spoke.
"Who the hell are you?" the man with the shotgun demanded.
"Sergeant Marcus Fenix, Coalition of Ordered Governments. Why don't we put down the weapons and talk?"
I eased out from behind Dom and slowly skirted around to Marcus' flank. I had seen one too many times how Gears were 'welcomed' into Stranded camps. I half expected the sandy-haired man to take another pot shot at Marcus. The Coalition's form of diplomacy didn't win them many fans. If this group took offense to Gears, perhaps I would be able to talk them down.
"All kinds of Stranded vermin can get a hold of COG armor these days. Prove who you are."
I blinked. These people definitely didn't consider themselves Stranded, then. I gazed out past the crown – instinctively doing a scan of our surroundings, picking out potential sniper perches – when I spotted it. In the center of town was a single, thread-worn yet lovingly patched banner of black. It fluttered in the wind, and as it billowed outwards I saw the white cog-shaped symbol. It almost made me laugh; these people had been abandoned for fifteen years, yet they were still loyal to a government they weren't sure still existed.
When I looked back at Marcus he was shaking hands with the shotgun-man, who was introducing himself. "Gavriel," he said, nodding to Mataki and Anya. "Lewis Gavriel. Head of maintenance at the naval base. Been here since before the COG decommissioned it. Are you planning to bring the rest of your men?"
Marcus waved everyone forward. I wasn't sure whether or not to keep my lancer out and ready, but I decided to sling it behind me. Hearts and minds, I reminded myself, before walking down the hill with the rest of Delta. I kept an anxious look out for anything suspicious. This wasn't Jacinto, and it sure as hell wasn't a Stranded camp. It was an odd sort of middle ground, and that meant anything could happen.
Mataki was walking next to Anya, close enough to be a bodyguard. Marcus and Gavriel were talking about something as we walked, although they were too far ahead of me to hear. I could tell Dom was trying to keep an eye on me and Marcus at the same time, while trying to come across as relaxed and hospitable to the growing crowd around us. I kept to the side of the crowd and tried to stop my hands from reaching to hold my rifle.
"Hey, I know you!" A man's voice called out behind me. "Yeah, you're Augustus Cole! The Cole Train! Man, what the hell are you doing in uniform?"
"Had to bring the pain to a different game, baby!"
Shit. Just how out of touch were these people? The draft had taken every able man and forced them into service years ago. Someone of Cole's athleticism and skill would have been first in line if he hadn't volunteered first.
It took a second before I noticed a girl – probably around nine or so – walking next to me and watching Sam. "You have a big dog," she said when she caught me watching her.
"Yup. Her name's Sam. You can pet her."
The girl held her hand out for Sam to smell. Sam gave her a courtesy sniff or two before licking her hand. The girl giggled and scratched Sam behind the ears. I may have been a hit with the children, but I could feel the adults watching me with a close eye. They were curious about the Gears, but I could sense a vague suspicion when they looked at me. It was obvious I wasn't one of them; I was the only one without a uniform or armor plates.
Our little entourage paused outside a small wooden building that smelled like old beer and faint vomit. A bar… I realized with some amazement. It had been so long since I'd seen one I almost hadn't recognized it. Marcus, Anya, as well as some of the locals I didn't have names for went inside while Cole, Baird, and I remained outside. A couple more kids gathered around Sam who was enjoying the attention. "Hey, Sam, sit. Shake…good girl!" I ran her through a couple of tricks I had taught her to the delight of the kids. They went in turns shaking hands with Sam. I tossed her a couple pieces of jerky as a reward. Cole was glad-handing with the adults and signing autographs and such. He seemed more than comfortable, but every once in a while someone would push in too close and I'd see his back stiffen.
I left Sam to the kids and backed up to stand next to Baird. He had pulled his goggles down over his eyes and was standing next to the door to the bar like a bouncer. He and Mataki were the only ones who hadn't slung their lancers; he kept his low but ready, weight balanced on both feet.
"This place feels off to you too?" I asked in a low voice. It was an odd question, what with the sight of kids playing and people shaking hands with Cole flooding my vision. But these people were so out of touch with new social norms that it was like communicating with a different species.
"Oh it's a paradise," he answered with a heavy bite of sarcasm. "Have an apple."
I manually stifled another yawn as I watched Anya and Gettner deal out another hand. Bored…so bored… Marcus had decided to take the Dill – as well as Dom, Mataki, and Cole – to go investigate the naval base. The rest of us had been left behind to guard the two Ravens in case any one from the town got too curious. That had been hours ago. I physically itched to go and explore, but any time I wandered more than twenty meters away from Anya she called me back. Sam was dozing in the fresh grass while Baird sat in the open door of Gettner's bird, fiddling with something small and electronic.
I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. From this distance I couldn't even see the base. Being familiar with my surroundings – knowing bolt holes and shortcuts – had kept me alive. I wouldn't feel comfortable on this island until I knew every inch of it like the back of my hand. I ambled to the far side of the Ravens. I had almost slipped out of sight when Anya called, "Bri?" in a warning tone.
"Relax," I snapped at her. "I've got to take a piss."
"There's a bucket in the Raven," Gettner answered, laying down a couple of cards. "Deal me two."
I internally groaned; the thought of peeing while Baird sat next to me was a fresh kind of hell. I kicked at the ground and exhumed a small tuft of grass. The town waited just down the hill, full of people and places to explore. I gave it one last, longing look before I turned around and rejoined the group. I sat in the doorway of the Raven next to Baird with an audible grunt.
"You don't do sit and wait well, do you?" he asked without looking up from his project.
Instead of answering I planted my chin on my fist and sighed. Then I tried bouncing my leg. And when that didn't help, I drummed my fingers on the metal floor. I had almost found a rhythm I liked – rat, tat, ratattatat tap, tappity tap tap ta-pat – when Baird turned and gave me a murderous glare. "Go ahead, keep it up," he warned. "I'll smoother you in your sleep tonight."
"I get to annoy you until then," I answered blandly. Even pestering Baird wasn't distracting me from the urge to run. "Come on, no one's really going to mess with the Ravens. Can't we just go down to the pier or something?"
"You need a hobby," he answered me. "Knitting, or yoga, or something. Something other than 'Piss off Baird'."
"But I'm good at Pissing off Baird," I smiled. "Damn near got a gold medal in it."
"Yeah, too bad first prize is a bullet in your ass."
"Bitch, bitch. You love it."
"About as much as a colonoscopy."
"Ahh, so you're kinky like that?"
He looked almost impressed that I went there. "Your daddy know you got a mouth like that?"
"What 'daddy' doesn't know won't hurt him." I could feel my cheeks start to glow slightly as our banter became slightly flirtatious. Baird had a slight uptick to his lips, and I could tell he was enjoying our conversation as much as I was. His project laid limp in his hands, completely forgotten. He started to say something but was interrupted by the sudden piercing scream of an alarm sounding in the distance. Everyone was on their feet in half of a heartbeat, reaching for their weapons in the same breath. The klaxons and bells were coming from the same direction as the naval base, where Marcus and the others were. Shit.
"Still bored?" Baird asked me as the siren echoed off the mountain and around us.
Author's note: Short and sweet. Covid quarantine equals lots of time to write. Drop a review so I know you're out there!
