Jacinto Military Barracks

Ten years after E-day

"So when we going to stop calling 'stranded' Stranded? They're all different. I feel I oughta reflect that in my semantics. I need to know if we're talking about gangsters, or bums, or homeless, or unlucky, or messed up in the head, or too afraid to go home, or what. Or missing for ten years. Or just taking a long time returning to base…"

Private Augustus Cole in conversation to Sergeant Bernadette Mataki regarding the Stranded

"This plant has large, pouch-like orange flowers with weak, watery stems. The leaves are alternately arranged with toothed, oval-shaped edges," Teresa read word for word out of the dog-eared textbook the three of them shared. "Identify and name its use."

They were hunched over a wobbly coffee table in the Wallin's COG sanctioned 2-bedroom apartment. Bri sat slightly apart from the two girls on a metal folding chair and gazed absentmindedly out the window. "Jewelweed," she answered without thinking too hard about it. "Use the sap to treat itching."

The twin red-head girls copied down the answer into their notebooks. Dizzy Wallin emerged from the bedroom with his hands busy tying a black bandana around his hair. "Hey now," he shot a disapproving look at Bri. "Helping 'em with their homework don't mean giving out the answers. Make 'em work a bit."

"Sorry," Bri said mildly. She didn't move from her vigil at the window. Dizzy almost turned around to gather his plates, but something about the rigidness of her shoulders caught his gaze. He hesitated in the doorway: half in the bedroom, half out.

"A small plant with parallel veins and a rubbery feel," Maralin read the next question in their assigned homework. "Common in scrub land and grows close to the ground. Identify and name its use."

A tension fell over the room as the girls waited for Bri to spit out the answer. She had a faraway look on her face now, as if she hadn't heard the question. Dizzy crossed the room and gazed past her shoulder out the window, trying to see what had caught her attention. Their apartment overlooked the motor pull, and the wide concrete yard for Ravens to take off and land. It was one of the least-desired housing assignments; the racket of the helicopters heading out or returning from missions kept them up all hours of the night. Down below a King Raven was being loaded by two engineers with supplies. He couldn't see why that would cause the vaguely hurt expression Bri currently wore.

"Yarrow?" Teresa guessed half-heartedly. Plant identification and survival skills were her least favorite subject.

"You okay?" Dizzy gently grasped Bri's shoulder and shook her from her stupor.

"No," she answered, standing and pulling away from him. "Plantain root. Crush the leaves into a paste and apply to venomous stings and bites."

The twins copied down the answer once again. Bri stood over Maralin's shoulder and watched her scratch the words down with a pencil that desperately needed sharpening. Dizzy got the feeling she was purposefully ignoring him. She knew he was heading out on a mission soon, which was why she'd agreed to watch the girls. They were getting to an age where they could take care of themselves, but he still felt better knowing Bri was around to handle anything.

"Girls, go take a break. Me and Bri have something that needs discussing."

Two pairs of identical green eyes glanced up at him in surprise. Then they looked at each other and silently got to their feet and went into their shared bedroom. They were good girls – never gave him any trouble. He waited until the door shut tightly behind them before fixing Bri with a stare. "That's 'bout the most hangdog look I've seen on your face," he opined, taking a seat on a threadbare upholstered chair that was so stained the original color couldn't be perceived. "Talk."

Bri had picked up Maralin's pencil and a folding knife out of her back pocket. She distracted herself by whittling down the edge until the graphite emerged in a fine peak. "Talk about what?" she said after a moment.

She still hadn't met his eyes. "Bout whatever's got you looking like a cat caught in the rain."

She examined the pencil point, blowing on it to remove a few wood shavings. "Don't know what you mean."

He gave her another second - maybe two - to change her answer before he reached forward and plucked the pencil from her hands. He tossed it down onto the coffee table hard enough to break the lead. "I mighta been born at night, girl, but it weren't last night."

Bri gave him a sour look. At least now she was looking at him. Eventually she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, collecting it to one side and twisting it into a long plait. "Ace has a mission," she finally answered.

"He's a Gear, missy," Dizzy said. "Kinda comes with the territory."

"Not this mission," she blew out a long sigh. "I dunno why, but it feels wrong to me. Prescott's involved, for one. And Ace won't tell me anything about it."

Dizzy stopped himself just in time before admitting that if Prescott was planning a mission for Gears, she was right to be worried. "I'm sure it'll-"

"If you tell me it's all going to be fine-" a fire erupted in her eyes as she fixed him with a glare. She let the unspoken threat dangle in the air between them. He held his hands up in a placating surrender. "I just wish I could go with him. I wouldn't be so worried if I was there to watch his back."

"You'll be there sooner o' later. Jus' be patient."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Because a month is going to change my skill level. I can do this - " she motioned dismissively at the schoolwork " - in my sleep. What am I waiting for? It's not like anyone goes through basic training anymore. They strap you in your armor and throw you in the field."

"Maybe you can understand why Ace ain't too keen to see that happen to you."

"No. He'd rather keep me here – babysitting and doing homework, instead of anything important."

Dizzy tried hard not to be insulted. "Taking care of my girl's is pretty darn important to me."

Bri at least had the common courtesy to look embarrassed. "That's not what – "

"Besides," he continued speaking over her. "Even if you ran yourself up to the recruiter right now, you wouldn't be a Gear in time for his mission. So what's your other option? Tagging along in his rucksack?"

He could tell she hadn't considered that. The surprise broke through her anger and her irritated expression finally slid away. He left her there to think as he got to his feet and retrieved the duffle bag that had his plates from his bedroom. She hadn't moved by the time he returned to the living room. "It's all alright, girl," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be back by morning. Make sure the girls get supper, and finish their homework. And I do mean that they finish it."

Dizzy walked out the door, letting it shut softly behind him. Bri sprang to her feet and walked to the window again. The crew was almost done loading the Raven. A week worth of supplies, extra ammo cans, and not one, but two fuel refills. No other Raven needed that number of supplies; it had to be the Raven for Prescott's mission.

Tag along in his rucksack? Bri repeated Dizzy's words silently to herself. It was insane – it would get her killed. It would royally piss Ace off.

But…it was a way to get what she wanted.

She didn't give herself enough time to overthink it. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she grabbed Maralin's pencil and scribbled down the last two answers – Elderberry, respiratory illness. She rushed into Dizzy's room and found the hidden shoebox he kept on the top shelf of his closet. Inside was a scavenged Boltok pistol Dizzy had picked up before he'd become a Gear. She swung the chamber out to the side and counted the six bullets. Then she picked up the box of spare ammo he kept stored next to it, and tucked both into her jacket.

On her way out of the apartment she paused to glance at the girls' bedroom door. It was still closed; they were probably enjoying the break from their homework. Eventually they'd figure out she was gone. They were old enough to get their own dinner from the mess hall, and one night alone wasn't going to hurt. Right now, she had someone else to take care of.

Sorry, she thought to herself as she eased the apartment door shut a second time.


"What plant is that?" Mataki motioned with the toe of her boot to a densely leafed bush, complete with an unfamiliar splatter of red berries.

I took a moment to examine it – no thorns, leaves alternating on the stem, emerald veins – and drew a blank. I knew every common plant back on Ephyra's peninsula. The islands, however, were filled with novel vegetation. "Damn. If I was on the mainland I would smoke this!"

"You need to be able to survive wherever you're deployed. You think when you're starving to death you'll be thinking, 'Oh man, if only I was back on the mainland?"

I frowned at her vaguely mocking tone. "Okay, so what is it?"

"Jasper berries," Mataki answered. She squatted next to me and plucked a heavy branch overladen with fruit. "Too many will give you one hell of a stomachache, but two or three will help bring down a fever."

I took the proffered berries and examined them closely: a deep red color, with smooth skin. Tiny green leaves near the stem. I squashed one in between my thumb and forefinger and noted the flesh-colored interior. I inhaled deeply – noting the fresh, sweet scent – then licked my thumb and committed the tangy pop of flavor to memory.

Mataki looked almost impressed. "You've done this before."

I rose out of my crouch and dried my fingers on my pants. "I told you – I had to learn every wild plant on the mainland. Ace would give me quizzes, so I learned the best way to remember the useful ones."

"Not bad," she said. "Take a couple with you. Refresh your memory tomorrow and you'll be twice as likely to remember it. And don't think that I won't be quizzing you, either."

I nodded and gently folded a few berries – complete with a twig, in case she only gave me the leaves instead of the fruit when she quizzed me – into a pocket under my chest plate.

Mataki was living up to her reputation as the COG's foremost survival expert. Early this morning she had decided to put me through her course on basic survival. Then she shifted gears when I showed her that I already knew how to start a campfire without tools, find safe drinking water, fashion a trap out of twigs and reeds, and could identify basic plants. She did know more about the island greenery, however, and I didn't mind learning from her. Ever since our last conversation we had come to an understanding of sorts – I'd be willing to study with her, and she stowed the Stranded prejudice.

I rolled my shoulders under my plates and tried to get the armor to lie more comfortably. "We almost done here?" I asked her. "We've been out here for hours."

She crooked an eyebrow. "You got somewhere better to be?"

I shrugged, but didn't answer. In truth there was somewhere I wanted to be – back in the harbor. Jacinto's remnant would be arriving today. A large part of me wanted to be there to watch the first ships emerge across the horizon. "Tell you what," Mataki said. "You tell me what that plant is good for, and we'll call it a day."

I glanced at the tall, spiky plant she was pointing at and smiled. "Vera plant," I answered easily. "It produces a sap that's good for burns."

"And?"

I blinked. "And…it…" I cursed. "Shit. I don't know."

"Rubbing it on your skin deters mosquitoes and other biting flies," Mataki explained. "But partial credit. We'll see if Command has anything for us to do, then go watch the civvies arrive. That work for you?"

"Deal." Mataki and I started back down the mountain in the direction of the base. Most of the caldera was filled with woods, rivers, and wildlife. Its vibrancy and vitality made my memories of Jacinto seem even colder and more desolate in comparison. I hadn't realized there was this much life left in the whole world. Most of Ephyra – at least, what I had seen – had been destroyed by the Hammer strikes, or years of constant warfare.

Another flight of Ravens had arrived earlier, bringing with it a shipment of more Gears to help get things ready. I think Hoffman was rattled by how vicious the local Stranded camp was. Attacking Delta and Pelruan by night was a ballsy move, but attempting to detonate the COG's ships with C4 was on a whole other level. However, Prescott was insisting on offering amnesty or trial to the encampment. Humanity would need every last human – at least the ones who could learn some manners.

It had been three days since we caught the pair of Stranded assholes strapping C4 to the ships. Subsequently, it had been three days since Baird had tackled me so I didn't run into one of their booby traps, and three days of absolute silence between us. I had assumed that his irritation at having to rescue me would fade overnight and we'd be back to verbally sparring by sunrise. This cold silent treatment from him was so far from our normal that it was starting to wear me down.

So when I saw Baird standing alone near a retaining wall halfway down the jetty, I decided it was time we had it out.

"I'll be right back," I said to Mataki, then adjusted course off of the path and through a large, grassy field. I tried to not look rushed as I walked down the hill and over to the blonde Gear. "Okay, it's been 72 hours without a scathing 'Damon Baird' comment," I said wryly once I was in earshot. "The silent treatment really isn't your thing. I thought you'd bitch me to death by now."

Baird glanced over his shoulder to see who was talking, then frowned when he recognized me. "The hell do you want?" he snapped.

"A pony would be pretty cool," I answered dryly. I hopped up on the waist-high wall he had been leaning against and let my legs dangle over the edge. "But mostly I want to know why you're pissed at me."

"Like I need a reason?" he said. This time I didn't take the bait and merely waited wordlessly. Once one dug through the piss and vinegar there was a real boy deep inside him. I knew if I waited long enough I'd get an honest answer.

Baird splayed his hands over the concrete edge and leaned his weight over the wall. I watched as he took a deep breath in through his nose. He wasn't looking at me – whether purposefully, or because something else had his attention. "Delta doesn't have the greatest track record with rookies," he finally admitted after a moment. "I had clocked the trap while getting into position, but you and Bernie were moving before I could radio it in. And then you decided to set a new track record running headfirst into it. Most of the recruits Delta gets saddled with die bloody. I was hoping you'd be the exception, but instead you're making my blood pressure rise." He finally picked his head up to glance in my direction. "You don't have a shred of self-preservation in you," he said accusingly.

I puzzled through his words to see if I could find the meaning hidden in them. "So…you're mad at me…because you think I'm trying to get myself killed?" I could feel anger starting to creep into my chest. He was accusing me of being reckless – and reckless people not only got themselves killed, they got the people around them killed. Did he think I was a danger to him – or to any member of Delta? Did he not think I could cut it as a Gear?

"I'm not pissed at you," he corrected. "I'm…frustrated. I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before. Turns out it's a pain in the ass."

"And why would you care if I live or die?"

"I don't," he answered a little too quickly. "I just don't want to deal with Dom's pouting if you do manage to off yourself."

"Oh," I answered mildly. My frown deepened. "I'll try not to go sprinting into any more booby-traps."

"Don't do me any favors."

I started to answer, but a small fleck of black across the horizon caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes as it steadily grew larger. "What?" Baird asked once he noticed my distraction. I ignored him and pulled my longshot around to get a better look.

Ships. Lots of them, slowly cresting the skyline and emerging like rolling black clouds. My heartbeat leapt into overdrive as I spotted the COG crest billowing on the wind. "They're here!" I informed Baird with excitement coloring my voice. "The rest of the COG!"

"Let me see-" he held out his hand for my longshot. I paused briefly; no one used my longshot but me. But this was Baird. I pushed down my initial hesitation and passed it over without comment. He shouldered the rifle with the true ease of a practiced marksman. "What the hell took them so long?" He handed my rifle back to me as he keyed into his comm-link with his other hand. "Control, time to roll out the welcome wagon. We've got eyes-on the flotilla."

"Understood, Corporal," Anya's voice came crackling over the radio. "Looks like you, Mataki, and Bri are the only Gears not currently tasked out."

"Which means?"

"Which means 'welcome wagon' duties fall to you," Anya answered with a smile in her voice. "Remember to pop the bubbly."

"I'll pop you," he threatened vaguely, but didn't press the transmit button so I was the only one who heard the comment. He cocked his head to the side and examined me curiously. "Can you manage some handshaking and glad-handing with the Chairman, or do I gotta order you back to base?"

I snorted as I slung my rifle back over my shoulder. "Go ahead – try and order me around. See how that goes for you."

"What, you forget already? I outrank you. Time to start minding your mouth around me."

"Like you mind yours around Marcus – or Mataki?" As I mentioned her name the Sergeant waved to us from down the hill. I raised a hand in response and Baird and I both made moves to head her way.

Baird cracked his neck. "Hey, I earned the right to be impertinent. You turn out to be half the soldier you think you are and maybe you'll end up being the sarcastic jackass in your own squad."

I blinked. Somehow that had managed to sound like a back-handed compliment – the only type of compliment Baird ever gave. "You think?" I asked suspiciously.

"Sure. Or some Sergeant will sink a round in your ass on principle."

"You're a jerk," I informed him.

"Blow me."

"I'd rather die."

"Either way, I win."

I started to answer with another insult, but I paused. "I've missed this," I said with a smile.

"Me too. Kills me that we're friends now."

My smile didn't so much as widen, but deepened. Now that I had cleared the air between Baird and I the sky seemed brighter somehow, like a pale overcast I hadn't noticed had suddenly faded away. The smell of the sea was so thick I could almost taste the salt of it in the back of my throat. We walked in step down to the dock where Mataki waited for us both. "Playtime is over. Boss man is back in town."

I motioned vaguely between us. "This is what you call playtime?"

Mataki rolled past my statement like I hadn't spoken. "Hoffman's on his way. I imagine Prescott's going to want a tour of the island, then we'll work with the navy to coordinate the movement of supplies and personnel off ship."

"He expecting the red carpet?" Baird asked.

"If he is, he'll be sorely disappointed. We're mostly here to look pretty while the adults do the talking."

"Mission accomplished, then," a familiar gruff voice called from behind us. I turned and then saluted as Hoffman approached. He returned the gesture almost lazily as Gavriel – the mayor of Pelruan – strolled up. He looked nervous; he kept clearing his throat and adjusting his gable-knit sweater like it was too tight. I didn't know the mayor all that well, but I guess Prescott had that sort of effect on people who didn't know him well.

"Chairman has decided to come ashore aboard a shuttle boat," Hoffman said. "I guess he forgot we own Ravens…"

"Sir," Mataki said in an admonishing tone, but she was smirking. My interest peaked as I glanced between the two of them. Are they…together?! I briefly considered the possibility then almost as quickly decided I didn't want to know. Not my business.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation. I stepped forward and scanned the horizon again with my scope. One small motorboat was quickly approaching the pier; I increased the magnification to get a better look. They were just far enough away that I couldn't make out any distinguishable features on any of the passengers.

Suddenly my scope went dark and Baird was pushing the barrel of my gun towards the ground. "I know you hate him, but kindly avoid aiming weapons at the Chairman."

"Why? Do you think I could hit him from here?"

Baird looked almost pained as he tried to hide his amusement. "You're going to end up on trial for treason. Calling it now."

I slung my rifle and layered my hands behind my back as we waited for Prescott. He was the first one off of the orange and white tender boat that larger ships used to shuttle people from ship to shore. Sea foam caught the wake from the outboard engine and broke upon the rocks near where Mataki, Baird and I stood in a parade line. Hoffman walked down to where the boat was being moored and shook hands with the Chairman. I saw Hoffman introduce Gavriel, and then watched them repeat the handshake. The trio of leaders made their way to the shore end of the dock, shadowed by Prescott's personal guard.

"…and I'm sure Sharle has a list of necessary supplies," I could hear Prescott say as they got closer.

"We'll need housing built," Hoffman answered. "We need land cleared for farming, and sources of raw materials identified and secured."

"And my people need reassurances, too!" Gavriel spoke up in a slightly frantic tone of voice. "We're loyal COG citizens, but people are worried that you're going to barrel through them. Er, no offense, sir."

"Mayor, I can assure you that the arrival of the COG on your shore is indeed a good thing. We may ask a lot of you in the days to come, but your lives will improve as well." Prescott spoke in a calm, measured tone. "The first improvement you'll see is to the security situation. You'll no longer be subjected to attacks by Stranded. The criminal elements will be eliminated, and the rest have been offered a choice – to accept the rule of COG law, or to leave. Now, we'll need-"

Prescott suddenly broke off mid-sentence. He was too well disciplined to look surprised, but I saw his eyes widen slightly as he finally caught sight of me. He almost tripped as his boots finally landed on solid ground. He gave me a once over – taking in the complete set of Gear plate and armor I was wearing – and I saw his jaw clench slightly. I was standing at attention so I couldn't smirk – eyes front, that was the drill – but internally I was grinning. I win, I thought to myself gleefully.

"Uh, sir?" Gavriel prompted.

Prescott blinked and looked away. "Apologies. I'm afraid it's been a long journey. Let's make our way to Pelruan, shall we?"

Mataki waited until the entourage had loaded into the 'Dill and driven away before giving us an "At ease."

The smile broke across my face as soon as I dropped my rigid stance. "One of these days you are going to tell me what the hell is up between you and him," Baird muttered.

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter anymore. I'm a Gear; he can't touch me."


The next morning I reported for duty with Delta. Over the past 24 hours the naval base had filled up with warships, tankers, Raven's Nest carriers, and just about anything that would float. As they all filtered into the jetty it almost appeared that the COG had a functional navy again. Lots of them were strung together in the water with ropes and gangplanks, or simply parked deck to deck. They were an island in their own right. Many of the ships were dropping their load of civilians or supplies and turning back around to pick up the last loads of equipment and personnel still waiting at Port Farrall.

A grey sky slowly filled with hues of red as the sun rose. Sam circled the dew-damp grass, sniffing for a place to relieve herself. I stifled a yawn as Cole walked up beside me. I could hear him laughing as he got close. "No more sleeping in 'til thirteen hundred, huh? You're a working girl now." He prodded me in the ribs under my armor.

"I've never slept in that late," I defended myself while slapping away his hand. "And its Dom's fault I'm so tired."

Dom gave me a wan smile. "I said I was sorry." The night before we had gotten to talking in the mess hall after dinner. He had regaled me with stories about his time in boot camp, about growing up with Marcus and Carlos, about me when I was a baby. I had been a rapt audience and listened eagerly until far too late, or too early, depending on your viewpoint. The result was we were both looking a little bleary eyed this morning.

I waved away Dom's apology as Marcus strolled up. He nodded silently to us. Further down the hill I could see Baird speaking with a man wearing a navy uniform. "What's on the agenda?" Dom asked Marcus.

"Navy's running things right now. We'll see where they need us."

"Hey, think we'll all get to wear those sailor outfits? The white ones, with the hats?" Cole asked. He crouched down to scratch Sam behind the ears.

"Oh, I think we're going to insist on it," Dom answered with a smile. "At least for you and Baird."

"Think we can get him to wear it?"

"I don't think we'll give him a choice."

"You won't give who a choice?" Baird asked as he joined us, a healthy dose of suspicion in his voice.

"What's the word?" Marcus interrupted as Cole and Dom exchanged amused grins.

Baird eyed the rest of us warily but answered the question. "A trawler never made it to port. The skipper made a radio transmission last night around twenty-six hundred about being on a collision course with another boat, then radio silence. They lost contact after that."

"They want us to help with a search effort?"

"If the trawler's been hit by Stranded, they're going to need our help," Baird answered. "I volunteered our services."

Cole chuckled. "Man, you're just hoping they'll let you fire the torpedoes."

"No, I wanna see how many times you hurl before we make it back to port."

Cole lost a bit of his smile and turned an interesting shade of green. "Sailing ain't like flying, is it?"

"Worse," Baird said, slapping the larger Gear on the shoulder. "Much worse."

"Control, this is Delta. Any issue with us helping the navy finding the lost trawler?"

There was a pause on the other end, then a male voice – Michaelson, as I'd learned earlier in the week – answered. "You're a little late, Delta. Fairhaven's found debris from the Harvest. Fenders, floats, no actual wreckage."

"So we've got a position," Marcus answered. "They're still going to need armed backup if it's Stranded."

"Wait one," Michaelson said.

I frowned. "Would Stranded really go after a COG ship?" I whispered to Dom.

He shrugged. "The navy's had problems with pirates for years now. I wouldn't put it past them."

"Delta, you're cleared for duty with the navy. Happy sailing."

"Cool," I said. "We get to play pirates?"

"You don't," Marcus corrected me, then motioned down the street. I followed his finger and saw Mataki speaking with a dark-haired woman. "You're still in training. Focus on operations on solid ground before you move to wet work."

I grimaced mentally at the thought of spending yet another day being quizzed by Mataki on troop formations, military history, and call signs. I tried to think of a convincing argument as to why I should join Delta on the high seas. I was coming up blank as we walked down the street in Mataki's direction. When she saw us approaching, she waved me over. "Hey, Santiago! Come meet someone!"

I crooked an eyebrow. "Am I 'Santiago' now?"

"Looks like it," Baird answered. "That's what you get for bragging about being Dom's crouch goblin. That's something I would have kept to myself, personally."

I pulled a face as he fell into step beside me. But inside I was relieved; I could handle Baird being obtuse and mocking. I couldn't handle thinking that he was angry with me. "I'll keep that in mind, should I run into any other members of the family."

"Like I'd claim you," Dom said acidly to Baird.

"Why not? You practically adopt every orphan Annie you've met." He motioned at Marcus. "Case in point."

"I changed my mind. Maybe if I threw you over my knee once or twice you'd learn to keep your mouth shut."

"Is that how you and Fenix get it on?"

I was still laughing as we got close to Mataki. Bernie was speaking with a black-haired woman, also in plate armor. She was an inch or two taller than me with a ragged bandana tied around her bicep in lieu of arm bands. They stopped talking and turned to face Delta and me as we approached. "Bri, I want you to meet Private Samantha Byrne."

The brunette woman greeted me with a wide smile and a handshake. "Pleasure."

"Wait," Baird interrupted. "Sam…and Sam? Oh ho ho – so many 'bitch' jokes, so little time."

Immediately all of our gazes dropped to the dog who was currently sniffing a particularly interesting patch of grass. "Excuse him," I said in an apologetic tone. "He was raised by wolves. Rabid ones."

"Don't apologize for him, darling," Sam – the person – said with narrowed eyes. "I've already had the displeasure of meeting Damon Baird."

"So, what happened?" Baird had a smirk plastered on his face. "You finally convince daddy Hoffman to let you out of the house?"

"Ah, Baird. Still being an antisocial dickwad, yeah?"

"What can I say? It works for me."

"And here I was hoping that Bernie would've walloped some manners into you."

"Too late to change. You'd miss me too much."

"Only if someone bumped my elbow."

My eyes ping-ponged between the two of them as they sniped at each other. As they bickered their bodies reflexively leaned closer to each other, until they were barely a handbreadth apart. Baird's words were acidic and biting, but he was smirking as a part of him thrilled at the banter. The rest of us were all pushed to the outside of the conversation.

Was this how the others felt when Baird and I got into it? Did they feel this…dejected?

Bernie grabbed a hold of Baird's chest plate and physically separated him from Sam. "If the two of you are quite finished," she snapped, "We're supposed to be standing guard by the gates. They're checking in the Stranded that accepted Prescott's amnesty deal."

"Don't know why we bothered," Baird said, stepping out of Bernie's hold on him. "Should have just kicked the lot off the island."

"In case you haven't noticed, we're a little short of humans these days," Sam answered him.

"Won't find any down there."

"Some of the Operation Lifeboat folk turned out pretty decent," Mataki corrected him. "Maybe there's hope for this lot."

I tried hard to hide my smile. Mataki was trying hard, I could tell. Suddenly being stuck on guard duty with her didn't seem so bad, even if it meant missing out on fighting pirates.

Delta said their goodbyes before heading out to the pier to hitch a ride with the navy. Sam, Byrne, Mataki and I made our way to the main gate where a crowd of Stranded was already amassing. There was a huge line – several hundred people, at least – mostly women, children, teenage boys, and elderly men. We spent most of the morning searching them for weapons before they were allowed into the base. They amassed in the parade grounds, ready to be issued identification cards and a housing assignment.

Once they were searched and inside the base we closed the gates. A few glanced around nervously, but Hoffman was the one who ordered the inner gates shut. Evidently he didn't want to risk someone signing up, grabbing their rations, and then slipping away again.

I sighed and adjusted my grip on my lancer. Mataki had paired me up with Byrne as we stood guard. Hoffman and Anya were walking the parade grounds, talking to each other, and examining the new host of civilians. Mataki was walking the ragged four-deep line, followed by one of the bots being used to take mug shots. The pictures would be transmitted to Pelruan. Anyone identified as a 'criminal element' was to be separated and detained. So far none had come back with a positive id. Evidently those sorts were smart enough to decline the COG's offer.

"So what's your story?" Sam asked in her prim, islander accent. She was chewing on the butt of a cigar that had long since gone out. She kept a lazy eye on the crowd, but I had a feeling she wouldn't miss much.

I shrugged. "It's kind of a long one."

"But you're still in training?"

"I enlisted a couple days ago," I answered. Then I sighed. She was bound to hear it sooner or later, so it may as well come from me. "I'm Dom's daughter."

She paused mid-chew, and plucked the cigar from her lips. Her cool disinterest was replaced by confusion. "I thought Dom didn't have any kids? 'Cept for the ones that…"

I nodded. "The ones that died? Yeah, that's me."

I could feel her eyeing me, but I kept my gaze steady and focused on the crowd. After a moment I felt her shrug. She didn't ask any more questions, but I couldn't tell if it was because she didn't care or because she wasn't sure what to ask first. I was watching Mataki now. The Sergeant was in the throng of people, looking into every face. An uneasy feeling took over my gut.

"Maybe we should help-"

Before I could finish my comment to Sam a flash of movement caught my eye. Deep in the crowd – near the gate – people were stepping aside like the ripple effect of a stone tossed into a pond. There was a scuffle, then a man's head rose above the others. He was trying to climb the gate to get away. Odd timing, I thought to myself, then turned to look at what he was trying to escape.

Mataki was pushing through the crowd in his direction. Byrne and I immediately moved to back her up as people scrambled to get out of our way. Mataki reached the gates first. I expected her to grab him by the legs, but instead she held her lancer by the stock and swung it like a baseball bat into the man's legs. He fell hard to the ground with a yell.

Mataki went to the ground with him, flipping him onto his stomach and yanking his arm up between his shoulder blades. Byrne turned and faced the crowd, shouting at them to clear out and give us space. I could see every Gear within 50 meters piling in, including Hoffman and Anya. "There," Mataki snarled at the man she had had pinned. With one hand she grabbed her lancer and slid the chainsaw up against the man's throat. "Take a look around. How do you like the odds now?"

And then suddenly I recognized him. Rusty brown curled hair, broad shoulders, and a look of arrogant disbelief on his face. It was the same man she had recognized when we visited the Stranded encampment on the other side of the island. The one who had threatened to make her pay.

Before I could move Hoffman was there, shoving Bernie aside and grabbing the man's arms. "It's okay, Mataki. I'll deal with this."

"I don't even know his name," Mataki said, getting to her feet. She sounded slightly winded. "But that's him."

"I don't give a damn what this animals called." Hoffman yanked the man to his feet. "But it's committed a capital crime, and it's going to pay for it. What's your name? I can't just call you 'asshole', because then all the other assholes like you would think I was addressing them."

"You all got some funny fucking double standards."

Hoffman drew his sidearm. "Name."

"John," the man panted. He winced as Hoffman's grip tightened. "Massy."

Massy. The leader of the Stranded camp – the one who had led the attack on Pelruan. "Your leader?" I asked before I could stop myself.

The man's eyes met mine. He gave me a derisive look. I was just another set of COG armor to him. "My brother. He's dead, you bitch. You assholes killed him."

"So file a complaint," Hoffman suggested. "In the meantime, you're detained."

Massy glanced again at Mataki, and then to the crowd of civilians who were all watching with rapt attention. "That bitch killed my buddies!" he yelled. "She cut them up, man. Took her fucking time, too. So where's their justice? Why ain't she in prison? 'Cause it sure as shit weren't self-defense, not coming back weeks later just to slit them up."

Hoffman started hauling Massy off to the guard room, reluctant to give him another second in front of a willing audience. The Gears around us stood like angry sentinels as they waited for someone in the crowd to protest. "Maybe they deserved it. Maybe you did, too."

My attention snapped back to Bernie. She was trying hard to look unaffected and unattached, but the rigid set of her jaw belied that attempt. She strode off after Hoffman with long, loping steps, her head held high.

"Hey!" I shouted after Bernie, trying not to run after her and failing. "What the hell was that?"

"Get back to base," she shot over her shoulder without slowing down. "We're done for today."

"Like hell we are!" I finally caught up with her and grabbed her arm, dragging her to a stop. "You want to explain what just happened?"

Bernie snapped her arm out of my grip like I had burned her. Anger scorched red-hot in her eyes. "I don't owe you a damn thing – especially not an explanation! You learn to mind your business, and that's an order!"

I was hardly listening to her. My eyes were pinned to her hands – they were trembling. "You're shaking," I pointed out in a soft voice. "Are you okay?"

Mataki was ready for a fight. She'd probably welcome it if I started screaming back at her, maybe even throw a couple of punches. But she wasn't prepared for me to meet her anger with gentleness. The fire in her gaze died down some and I could see the true emotion buried behind it – fear. Shame, maybe. "Bri," she said in a warning tone. "I mean it-"

"You knew him, right?" I stepped closer and lowered my voice. The crowd had broken up and there was no one within earshot, but conversations like these had a way of making one feel exposed. "He's the same guy from our first day here."

I could see her wavering on the knife edge – deciding whether or not to trust me. I didn't push her. Whoever that man was, he managed to turn one of the hardest women I knew into a shaky mess with his mere presence. There were all sorts of monsters in this world, and only some of them were Locust.

Bernie took a deep, steadying breath and I could see some of her walls slam back into place. "You're a good girl," she said in a soft tone. "Dom's lucky to have you. But don't concern yourself with this – it's not a story you want to hear. Believe me."

"Murder, rape, theft, and treason," I recited the list. "Hoffman said he committed a capital crime. Which one was it? Not treason, since he wasn't a citizen. Did he kill someone? Or…he…"

The realization was like dripping ice water down my spine. I felt the cold awareness all the way down to my fingertips. The look on Mataki's face told me she knew I finally understood. "Fuck," I breathed out.

"Yeah."

Before I could come up with something else to say she was walking away. It took me a moment before I could hear the noise of the crowd, or of the Gears suddenly redoubling their security efforts. My lancer was limp in my grasp as I stared at the guard room long after Mataki had disappeared inside.


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