Pelruan, Vectes

Present Day

If there was anything good about the last fifteen years, it was that shared pain saved you from having to explain what the problem was. Everyone – Gears and civvies alike – had been through a lot of the same garbage, more or less, so you never had to feel you were crazy or abnormal, seeing as normal meant you were just like everyone else. And that meant seriously fucked up.

- Augustus Cole's inner thoughts regarding Dominic Santiago's loss of his wife.

"Marcus? Delta, anyone – what's happening?" Anya's voice was calm – schooled into maintaining order after years of working in CIC – but I could see the worry on her face. She reached for her gas mask without it looking like a conscious decision. Everyone else grabbed a weapon, while the Raven pilots leapt into their cockpits and readied to mount a rescue.

Cole's laughter came crackling over the Raven radio – "Ma'am, Private Augustus Cole reporting that the base alarm works!"

"Just testing," Marcus' voice joined Cole's over the radio. There was a hint of amusement in that gruff monotone. "Carry on."

There was a second while we all tried to let the adrenalin fade. Just a test… "They're so fucking hilarious," Mitchell said, emerging from the cockpit with a sour look. "Anyone remember what hand they had?"

My hands wouldn't quite unclench around my lancer. There was something pants-shittingly terrifying about the sudden alarm. I had found myself scanning the ground for e-holes, even though that didn't make any sense. The locust hadn't been able to burrow all the way out here, so if they did follow us, it'd have to be over water or through the air. It'd be a while before those instincts went away.

Baird returned to his seat on the Raven's bay steps. I could hear him grousing a few choice words, but I didn't pay him any mind. Instead I looked at Anya: "Shouldn't someone go down and reassure the town it was just a drill?" I asked her. "You know, so they don't think we're about to blow up their pretty island?"

Sitting still had been difficult before they tripped the alarm. It would be impossible now, with the remnants of adrenalin still circulating in my blood. Anya sighed; "Baird, go with her. Report to the town, then get back here."

"Yes ma'am," I agreed readily, eager to walk down to the town before she changed her mind.

"Suuure, I can babysit," Baird chipped as he got to his feet. "But you ain't gonna like what I charge."

I was already walking away, clicking my fingers for Sam to follow. She leapt to her feet and bounced gaily along beside me. I could hear Baird following – just the soft clanking of armor plates – as he came up level with me about halfway down the hill. I waited until we were out of earshot before speaking. "Is that all gears do all day?" I asked Baird. "Sit around and follow orders?"

"In between getting our asses shot off," Baird answered. "Anya and Marcus ain't so bad. They at least have opposable thumbs and IQs averaging in the triple digits."

I sighed. Anya and Marcus weren't bad people; I just hadn't had anyone telling me what to do for years now. It was a hard habit to get used to.

It was a short walk down to the outskirts of town. Most people were in the streets, looking in the direction of the base. The alarm had since been turned off, but people were still anxiously looking around for some sense of danger. "It's okay!" I called to a group of men hunched around an old picnic table. "Just a drill! Spread the word!"

They looked at me for a moment more before turning around and heading off in the opposite direction. "Yeah, you're welcome," I groused just loud enough for Baird to hear. I could see people start to meander away once word spread.

I took a few more steps towards the center of town, hoping Baird wasn't about to insist on heading back up the hill, when the wind shifted. It brought with it the most tantalizing smells of meat and spices, being grilled over a wood fire. It smelled so good I almost groaned as I got a whiff. "Woah…smell that?"

Baird took a deep breath, then another. "Mmm…beef. Maybe goat. Better than that myco-protein stuff they feed us."

Sam had her nose in the air and was sniffing interestedly. "Find it, Sam," I ordered, and she took off down the street without a second thought. Baird and I jogged behind her as she turned up one street, then crossed through an alleyway and headed westward. Up ahead I could see a small column of smoke, and a tall, grey-bearded man poking at something on a flat-top grill.

The old man turned and laughed when he saw us. "Didn't figure it'd take you mainlanders long to find me once I fired up 'dis old grill here," he said with a thick islander accent and a smile. "Rezzie's got the best food on the island. I'm Rezzie." He held his hand out to Baird for a handshake.

"It smells amazing," I complimented him, looking over the grill with more than a little interest. He had shaved meat – speckled with peppercorns and some kind of red flaked seasoning – cooking next to an assortment of onions, peppers, and whole cloves of garlic. It was the kind of food I'd heard about, but very rarely had the pleasure of eating. I could see thick, fresh buns resting on a shelf next to Rezzie, waiting to be turned into mouth-watering sandwiches. "How much?"

I was damn near ready to hand over my lancer in exchange for one bite. Rezzie reached behind him and smoothly sliced a bun in half. With an expert shuffle he scooped a large helping of the meat onto the bread, then followed it up with a topping of the veggies. And just when I thought he was finished, he grabbed a squeeze bottle filled with some kind of oil and fragrant spices and drizzled a generous spread on top of it all. He finished it off with the top bun and presented the whole deal to Baird with a smile. "First one's on the house, so long you tells your COG buddies where you got it."

"Deal," Baird agreed, taking the sandwich with one hand. I waited excitedly, but Rezzie didn't move except to push the veggies to a cooler spot on the grill. There was an awkward moment while I waited for a free sandwich that didn't seem forthcoming.

"Oh, um, I can trade you for it!" I offered eagerly. I plunged my hand into my pack, wondering what I would come up with that the old man would find use for. "Let's see, I've got some ration bars, some ammo, a bit of dried venison…"

Rezzie's smile faded with embarrassment. "Look, sweetheart, it ain't personal. Just the law, see?"

I pulled my hands out of my pack and gave him a confused look. "What law?"

"Pelruan law," he said, as if that clarified anything. "Stranded ain't welcome here, and no one's to be bartering or serving them. We've had a problem wit' pirates and such, taking things they don't own."

"You've got Stranded problems? Here?"

"They've got an outpost to the north," Rezzie explained. "Good for nothin' bastards took over the piers. They show up in town, we shoot on sight."

I flushed hard. Being treated like an outcast in Jacinto had become commonplace, but I hadn't expected the same prejudice here out on the islands. "That's oka-"

"That's bullshit!" Baird snapped at him. "You seriously can't tell the difference between her and a god-damn Stranded marauder? She's fought more grubs than your whole damn town has even seen. She's put her ass on the line, and she can't get a damn sandwich?"

"Baird!" I rebuffed him, pulling on his arm to back him away from Rezzie. The old man looked abashed, but also like he was ready to spring into an argument. "We're supposed to be making friends here!" I hissed at him as we walked away. "Just let it go."

"They need a few grubs around," Baird muttered. "That'd get their priorities straight."

I wasn't sure why Baird was so upset. He was the most anti-Stranded member of Delta. And it wasn't like Rezzie had confused Baird with a Stranded. Which either meant he had suddenly about-faced on his Stranded views, or he was pissed on my behalf.

"Here," he said as we turned the corner. He ripped the bun in half, careful not to spill any meat or veggies. He held half out to me as we walked. Chagrined, I accepted it with a small smile.

"Thanks," I said, with real emotion in my voice. "I just…you didn't have to-"

"It's just a sandwich," he said, giving me a look. "It's nothing."

I knew the large gear well enough to know not to push the issue. I pressed the sandwich into a more malleable height and took a bite. The explosion of flavor across my tongue almost stopped me in my tracks. The oil Rezzie had drizzled over top was spicy, but not overwhelming. It paired perfectly with the salty, smokiness of the meat. Baird had been right; it was goat. "Damn, that's good," I said in approval once I stopped chewing.

"Not a bad cook, for a bigot," Baird agreed. "Better finish eating before we get back. Mataki's got a nose like a bloodhound." I pinched off a small piece of the bread and tossed it to Sam, before finishing the lions share by myself. There was almost something conspiring about it, as if Baird and I were in on something together. It really was just a sandwich, in the grand scheme of things, but it also felt like more, like Baird was firmly in my corner. That feeling kept me warm long after the heat from the spices faded from my lips.


Once Baird and I rejoined the Raven crews and Anya, it was only a short wait until Marcus returned with the rest of Delta. "We'll take it," Mataki said as she hopped out the rear passenger side of the 'dill. "But the wallpaper's got to go."

Even Marcus seemed enthused about the base. He was more relaxed than he had been in days. Dom was almost bouncing in his boots. "They've got a hospital wing!" he enthused to the group. "Some medical supplies, too. Doc Hayman might even be pleased for once."

"So this is home?" I asked him.

"Looks like it!" he flashed me a smile and I couldn't resist returning it in kind. Most times Dom looked quietly lost, but every now and again I'd see signs of the eager, excitable man he used to be. I knew he was nowhere close to being over Maria, but grief tended to come in waves. As long as he was up I'd ride this surge of enthusiasm with him.

Marcus looked relieved at Dom's excitement. "Better go fix the tourist brochure, then."

Anya was speaking on the radio, communicating Delta's findings back to Port Farrall. The official call would be up to Prescott, but for everyone else it seemed like a done deal. There'd be Pelruan – the little town Baird and I had just left – then the naval base for Jacinto's remnant, and a 70-klick buffer zone of fertile farmland between the two.

Oh, and the hostile Stranded settlement to the north. They'd apparently earned their reputation with the town, although I couldn't see the COG tolerating that kind of behavior long term. Sure, some Stranded on the mainland hated the gears, but they'd never resort to armed robbery of COG citizens. Most were just trying to eek out a living away from a government they felt betrayed by. Like me. I'm not some asshole, I just want to help.

It seemed like the line between Stranded and COG was getting firmer every day now that the Locust weren't a problem. I had hoped that tensions would become calmer between the two, now that humanity wasn't on the brink of being exterminated, but instead we fell back into tribalism and an 'us vs them' mentality.

Baird was right; maybe we needed the grubs around so we didn't off ourselves fighting over stupid shit.

"Everyone, load up," Marcus commanded. "I want to go check out that Stranded encampment before we lose the light."

I scrambled into the Raven before anyone could order me to stay behind again. I'd missed out on exploring the naval base, but a stranded camp would be damn near homey. Dom leapt in after me, grabbing the seat on the bench to my right. He patted me once on the shoulder, then paused, sniffing the air. "Any one smell garlic?" he asked innocently.

My eyes immediately met Baird's, and he gave me a wink. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to stop the peal of laughter before it made its way out. "Nah, Dom," Baird answered. "Sure you aren't having a stroke?"

"That's toast, dumbass."

"Who wants toast?" Marcus asked, climbing aboard.


What the fuck…I thought to myself, staring out at the group of men before us. They weren't like any Stranded I'd ever met. Behind them I could see signs of everyday life – laundry strung out on lines between shacks, wisps of smoke from a brick chimney – but no women or children. The guys in front of us were armed with weapons that never would have made it through a battle with locusts. They held everything from hunting rifles, revolvers, and shotguns, but nothing close to the fighting power of a lancer.

"Well, fancy seeing the COG here at last," an unusually heavyset man with a hammerburst spoke first. He was probably in his late forties, but hard living aged people. He was bald on top, but had an impressive beard that was striked through with grey. "Welcome to Massy's territory. That's me, by the way. You're on my turf."

The man spoke with an air of arrogance and unearned confidence, as if he'd never seen what a heavily armed squad of gears could do when threatened. The mainland Stranded might trade barbs and curses with the gears, but they weren't crazy enough to actually attempt an armed standoff. "The COG's moving back in," Marcus said, blowing past Massy's thinly veiled threat as if he hadn't even heard it. "It'll be like we never left."

Something about the injustice of the situation needled me. It almost wasn't fair, somehow, that the COG could just roll over an entire island because of some ancient claim to the land. It wasn't just the Stranded that were going to end up getting screwed in this deal; the townsfolk in Pelruan were suddenly going to be expected to fall in line behind the COG, when they'd essentially been an independent colony for a decade. Of course, these Stranded men had a reputation of being thieves, rapists, and murderers, so I wouldn't waste an ounce of empathy on them. However, I did wonder how many in town truly understood what the return of the COG meant for them.

"So you think you're going to roll in here and kick us out of our homes?"

"Right now we're asking that you become more considerate neighbors to our citizens."

Massy rolled his shoulders, casually making himself look broader and taller. "I'm seeing four of you, and about thirty of us. You good at math?"

"Top of my class," Marcus sounded slightly bored, like Massy was an annoying rat-dog yapping at the heels of a mastiff.

"You want to check your figures again?"

"Dom, check my math, would you?"

Dom shrugged and stepped closer to Marcus' flank. "Well, there's seven of us, and the missile launchers and guns on the Raven, and a bored chopper crew, so I make that outgunned plus eight. But maybe I forgot to carry the one."

I heard the dry rasp of metal bearings rotating within sockets as Sorotiki waved the Raven's machine gun vaguely in the direction of the shanty town. All this moment needed was a flash point to boil over into armed combat. Everyone could feel it. A thin trail of sweat rolled down the back of my neck as I took a quick stock of everyone's position; Marcus, Dom, and Anya in front of me, Mataki and Cole on the right flank, the Raven at our back, and Baird and I covering the left. More and more men had come filtering out of shacks and lean-tos as Massy spoke with Marcus. Massy had been right; we were outnumbered, but probably not outgunned. Even so my feet itched to find a sniper's perch far away from the stand-off, ready to pick off the bastards from a distance. I still wore the ballistics vest Dom had procured for me, but I felt woefully under-armored compared to a squad full of gears. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears as I flexed my hands on my lancer.

"Okay." Massy sounded relaxed, but he shouldn't have been. He lowered his rifle and his men followed suit. "You stay away from us, and we'll let you stay awhile."

Yeah right, I thought to myself. As soon as the rest of the COG rolled in here this little encampment would be done. Whether or not these men lived through it would depend on how merciful Prescott and Hoffman were feeling that day.

Marcus shifted his weight, as if he were ready to head back to the Raven, but Mataki had peeled off and was walking down the shoreline. Cole had followed on her six without hesitation. Pulled up onto the pebbly beach were a variety of small fishing vessels and other boats. "The blue dinghy," she finally said, focusing on Massy. "Anyone want to admit to owning that?"

"You looking to buy?"

"Simple question. Is the owner here?"

"No."

"Shame," she said, heading back up the beach. A few Stranded closed in around her, but Cole shot them a look and they backed off.

"Pack it in," Marcus motioned for everyone to fall back to the Raven, and people relaxed marginally. "Glad we reached an understanding."

Mataki passed two Stranded men on her way back to the Raven. Cole was distracted, watching the men on their six, so he almost missed it when a man reached forward and grabbed a handful of Mataki's backside. A leering smile began to cross over his face before Mataki smashed the butt of her lancer down hard across his mouth. I could hear the crash of metal against teeth from here.

Fuck. Rifles were raised again in an instant. Dom pounced on the other guy, shoving him hard in the chest to get space between them. Cole was covering Bernie, lancer shouldered and ready to fire. My lancer was aimed at Massy before I had time to consciously think. I swallowed dryly as I waited for things to kick off in earnest.

"Anyone else want some?" Mataki snarled. She resembled a wolf, all tensed lips and bristled fur. She had her rifle aimed at the guy on the deck, just waiting for him to give her a reason to pull the trigger. "No? Smart."

"I know who you are, now," one of the men called. He had rusty brown curled hair and a snub-nose pistol he punctuated his sentences with. He filtered through the crowd of Stranded to get a better look. "You dumb bitch. You're going to pay for what you've done. Didn't you learn your lesson?"

"Stay out of my fucking way," she said coldly, pointing her rifle at the new man and backing slowly towards the Raven. "Because you never learned yours."

Baird motioned me back to the Raven with a flick of his thumb. He kept his rifle aimed at the crowd as he covered my exit. At some point he had lowered the goggles he always wore until they covered his eyes, and between those and his hard-set jaw he looked every bit the hard ass a gear was supposed to be.

Marcus was the last one aboard. The Raven lifted clear and headed for the other side of the island. I tried not to stare at Mataki as she buried her head in her hands and slumped against the bench. But try as I might, I couldn't stop looking at the smear of fresh blood on the butt of her rifle. Sure, the guy deserved it. But there was no doubt about it; Mataki really hated Stranded.

Once we were in the air I couldn't hear anything over the noise of the engines. I really miss having a comm, I thought idly as I watched Mataki from the corner of my eye. I let my hair fall down as a curtain between us as I pretended to fiddle with the gas tank on my chainsaw bayonet.

I felt the same sort of unease I felt when I saw Dom returning to the Port with Darvish's blood on his hands. Stranded would always be treated as second class citizens within the COG. Most civilians saw them as lazy, ungrateful bastards who sat on the sidelines and simply watched the world slowly end. I understood their distaste, but sometimes it seemed that there was a darker hatred that ran deeper than anyone would look. There were people who took advantage of a world without rule of law, but there were also people like Dix, or Momma. And hell, Bane had been a citizen, and I'd gladly slam my rifle into his teeth if I ever saw him again. Even Baird had realized it earlier, while arguing over a free sandwich. There was a difference in being 'stranded' and being Stranded.

I just wasn't sure if Mataki would ever see that difference in me.


Gavriel offered us the use of the town hall to sleep in. Gettner and her crew chief were up by the Ravens, keeping guard. Everyone else was setting up cots, maintaining their kit, or helping cook dinner. "I've got the surf and turf for our fearless sergeant," Sorotiki said, passing off a plate of mycoprotein and rice off to Marcus. "Chicken cacciatore for the lovely lieutenant," Anya accepted her plate with a small, amused smile. "Tuna a la King for the Cole Train. Boeuf Bourguignon for our corporals, and risotto for our tourist." He passed me a plate with a wink.

I had a cot set up next to Dom's, but I ignored it and headed for the farthest wall. The town hall was a mostly empty room, with racks of metal chairs lying in wait along the edges. I tucked myself in between two such racks and settled into my meal without much enthusiasm. I had nothing against Sorotiki's cooking, it simply was a far cry from the sandwich Baird and I had shared earlier. When I had my fill I passed the plate to Sam.

Everyone else ate in silence. A couple people picked up the same poker game from earlier, but it was simple distraction instead of entertainment. I could tell some – Cole in particular – were trying to pick a moment to speak to Mataki. That Stranded man had recognized her from somewhere. I didn't know much about Mataki's background, and most of it I probably didn't want to know. Something had to have happened to her to justify her bone-deep hatred of Stranded. I didn't let myself wonder what that was.

Finally, I thought to myself. Every now and again someone – Dom, Marcus, or Anya – would glance over and check on me sitting in the corner. I had been waiting for them to become immersed in their dinner or card game so I could slip out the rear exit. I managed to get to my feet without making a sound, wordlessly motioning for Sam to follow. I spared one glance back at the makeshift camp before sliding the door shut, twisting and holding the door handle so it wouldn't turn into place with an audible click.

My shoulders slumped as a hidden tension I hadn't been aware of finally faded away. The world was dark, and quiet. No sounds of a crowded city, no crackling campfires, no howling winter wind. Just the soft back and forth of the waves gently meeting the shore. All I had wanted all day was to slip away, unseen, and put more of this island under my boots, but I had felt Delta's eyes on me. It was exhausting to have to temper my reactions to everything just to make sure Dom wouldn't worry because I frowned at the wrong moment. I finally felt like I could breath as I slinked away from the town hall and into the night.

Working on my memories of the town from that morning and the barest hint of light eking between windows and curtains, I headed for the shore. No one else was out at this time of night except for a couple of men walking into the small bar. I hid behind a corner until they were out of sight. As I walked westward the sounds of crashing waves grew louder. It was a new moon; the sky an inky black with only pinpricks of starlight to guide me once I left the town.

I lost sight of Sam as she trounced into the tall grass. I could hear her barreling through the weeds and sniffing. I wasn't worried about her wandering off; she knew to stay close to me, and she could see me far better that I could see her.

Even in the darkness I found a small hiking trail that led down the hill and into sea. Slowly the ground beneath my feet became more sand and rock than grass. I winced as my footsteps crunched on the shore, but there was no one out here to hear them, and the sounds of the water engulfed them before they could travel very far. I only stopped walking once my boots hit water. I backed up a few paces and sat down in the sand and stared into the darkness.

Several hundred miles westward was home. And I'd never see it again.

Jacinto was dead and buried. So was Momma. I would never know what would become of the Stranded camp – whether they'd be wiped out by wandering grubs, disease, or an opposing camp. Maybe they'd make it. Maybe they wouldn't.

I could imagine the last of the COG navy fleet beginning to make the trek across the sea, bringing the tiny populace who had managed to survive the locust war. We'd have a few days before they arrived here. And, again, the face of this island would change irrevocability.

I looked to the left, southward, past the curve of the shore. A hundred or so miles in that direction had been where Ace had died. I thought it would rip me to pieces, to be back so close. All day I'd struggled with distractions, with keeping busy, just so the memories wouldn't bubble up and strangle me. I knew I wouldn't be able to explain if anyone would have seen me break down. I wondered idly if anyone had ever buried him. We'd never gotten the chance. Maybe he was still there, just a skeleton in COG armor lying in a field. Maybe someday I'd have the chance to borrow a boat and make the trip. Finally put him to rest.

There was a quiet rustle as Sam bounded out of the weeds behind me. She panted softly in the darkness as she joined me on the beach. I gave her an absent-minded scratch behind the ears as I let the memories overwhelm me for a moment. "I found him, you know," I spoke so softly the waves swallowed my words. "My dad. He's pretty cool; I think you'd like him. He'd probably want to thank you for everything you did for me. Hell, I want to thank you." I closed my eyes as my throat tightened. For a moment it hurt just as intensely as it did the day he died. But I waited for a second, and it passed. "I think…I think I'm gonna be okay. Still could use you watching my back though."

I leaned back into the sand, letting one arm tuck behind my head as a pillow. I looked for constellations out of habit, and was perturbed when I couldn't find any of my familiar ones. Even this sky was different; the stars out of place, disobedient and strewn haphazardly across the night. I laid on the beach for awhile and tried to draw new designs in the heavens. The sand was cold beneath me, but Sam was pressed against me as she began to doze off, and the air was still warm enough that I wasn't uncomfortable. I did have to scoot back when the waves started lapping at my heels as the tide drew in closer.

My eyelids began to droop. It had been a long day – longer than normal, as we had gained daylight flying from the mainland to Vectes. I knew I should get up and head back into the town; Dom definitely would have noticed my absence by now. I didn't want to move, however. I felt more at peace here by the shore than I had at any point in months. I wasn't eager to let go of that feeling. Sleeping in the open like this was risky, however, and not something I would have ever attempted before. It was that instinct that kept me on this side of consciousness.

There was a quick flash of white light far out on the horizon that caught my attention. My eyebrows knitted together as I sat up and stared off in that direction. It had been so sudden and dim that I thought I almost imagined it. I had almost convinced myself that it had been a reflection of the stars catching on the waves when it happened again. Two long flashes followed by a quick dash – someone using a mirror and morse code to communicate.

I was on my feet and running back towards town before Sam had stirred. She quickly caught up as I tried to follow the hiking trail from memory. If there was someone out on the water at this time of night, then they weren't here for a friendly visit.


Author's note: Ok, first off I have to apologize for slipping that easter egg in there. I wrote that at like 2 in the morning and it made me laugh, so the "Who wants toast?" line got to stay. Hopefully y'all caught the reference.

I really hate leaning so hard on the books, but there's no better way to establish life on Vectes. Right now Bri is just trying to fit in and find a place in Delta, but she'll be up to her own shenanigans again soon, don't worry! Hopefully I'm keeping it fresh for those of you who have read the books.

And if you want me to continue this writing momentum, drop a review before you leave! I'm really trying to keep a consistent writing schedule now, but the motivation always helps, my lovely readers!