A few notes:

I do not own Command & Conquer, Tiberian Sun, or Firestorm, nor do I claim to. Based on my opinion, some aspects of the games have been changed to suit the story I want.

Additional information on this story can be found on my profile. I suggest you read it.

Warning! May contain excessive cursing.

You have my sincere thanks for viewing my story! I would greatly appreciate any reviews – after you've read what I have, of course. R&R, basically. Enjoy!

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The hatch on the side swung up once the APC had ground to a halt, and a NOD soldier stepped out with his machine gun aimed at them. He was covered entirely in black, battle-worn armour. Rounded plates on his shoulders, knees, and elbows were engraved with a pair of down-facing, crimson arrows each, one over the other, and his boots reached up to his shins. He wore a helmet that concealed his face. The main structure was a type of motorcyclist head gear, and the visor sported red markings. There was a "y" shaped figure on it, spreading across the eyes down the nose to the chin, and around it were various spots to filter the air. His breath and steps were silent, and only the clank of his weapon sounded into the cold, dark quiet.

Rico froze, suddenly feeling quite helpless and vulnerable. This was an intimidating presence, and with his experienced comrade down and the condition of the tiberium creatures uncertain, he was at a complete loss at what to do. He had the vague sense that the soldier was looking them over and verifying their identities, and that made him even more uneasy. It was, or it felt like, a long time before the stranger gestured towards the APC with one hand and approached Hyaka. Rico, not wanting to risk disobedience, climbed into the vehicle. He was greeted by three men dressed like the man outside, all seated on narrow, built-in benches along the walls opposite each other. They looked up at him with little interest. They were light infantry, except for a single rocket infantry near the back.

The rocket infantry, who had his launcher on the floor leaning against his leg, waved him to the opposite seat, and when Rico hesitated, the wave became more insistent. He sat down nervously, and forced himself to face the infantry. Were they allowed to speak? No one had yet said a word. But he knew the others were watching him expectantly, even behind their masks.

He didn't know what to say. "Uh…"

There was a soft murmur, and it took him a moment to realize that they were laughing at him. He might have replied with anger, but their atmosphere of superiority kept him from doing so. Instead, he said nothing and stared back at the rocket infantry across from him. He turned his gaze back to the door as the soldier outside entered with Hyaka by his side.

The soldier was supporting Hyaka by the free arm, and was speaking quietly enough that Rico could not make out any words. Hyaka only nodded and allowed himself to be escorted to the back, where the grey door to a room closed behind them.

"That's Esheika."

Rico blinked and turned to the rocket infantry in surprise. Obviously, not speaking was all part of a good image and first impression. He finally found the courage to speak, and managed to ask, "How come you had different armour?

It was the other man's turn to be surprised. "It's for veterans," he said. "Soldiers who have earned ten times their worth in kills."

Rico was puzzled. Surely Hyaka had been in this war long enough to be considered a veteran. Had all that intelligent talk and calmness been an act? Or was he just really close?

"Is Hyaka –" Rico began.

"Hyaka is an odd one," was the reply. "He's a veteran, but he's only worn his armour once. When you become a veteran, you get better armour and weapons. He was being bugged about not wearing his armour so much that he gave in by telling everyone that this was his last mission without properly displaying his rank."

Rico took a moment to think about that. Was that why… why what? He shook his head. There was nothing to think about – everything was just as it was. But it did explain why Hyaka had commented on Rico's model being "old."

"Uh… May I ask your name?"

"Of course."

No other words followed, and Rico's breathing sounded like a tornado to himself in the uncomfortable silence. He had the notion that everyone was wearing a grin, and he felt like a dead weight among the elite. He clenched his jaw and ploughed forward.

"What is your name?"

"I'm Aera. Those two are Larairus and Mikura."

Neither Larairus or Mikura acknowledge him, so Rico didn't say anything either. Another uneasy quiet followed, in which Aera finally asked, "And you are?"

"Rico."

"Who sent you here?"

"Someone called Mair."

Before there could be an answer, Rico heard Larairus laugh bitterly. "Surely Hyaka knew better," he said. "That bastard Mair is a real ass…"

"Mair can be a real troublemaker," Mikura added quietly, his head facing the ground. "If you don't interpret his orders properly, you can get into some big trouble. He doesn't give wrong orders, but his wording can really throw you off if you're not careful."

Rico shook his head. "He didn't say anything odd or confusing. The order was perfectly clear."

"Really?" Aera snorted. "Well, that's a surprise. Can you repeat it?"

"The order? He said, 'put some new land on the radar to the west. There's a tiberium field to look at before we send in a harvester.'"

"Did he say that you specifically were to find the tiberium field?"

Larairus asked, "Did he say to actually leave the base?"

Rico stared at Aera, starting to see his error. It wasn't perfectly clear at all. But it had sounded right, and all the words and concepts fit well. Was that what made Mair so tricky? Did he rehearse what he would say before saying it?

He answered, "No to both."

He imagined the three veterans exchanging glances.

"It may have been what was heard," Mikura said. "After all, you went west and found a tiberium field in an unknown area. Mair doesn't always mess up his words. Where's the fun in having everyone know to be careful? If he is straightforward sometimes, you waste a lot of time trying to find loopholes that aren't there."

Rico was only half-listening now. He knew it was rude, especially against his superiors, but he was stuck on worry. Would Hyaka be alright? He'd heard that tiberium could poison humans, and even cause them to mutate. Those pigs – the tiberium fiends – were likely former soldiers. Would comradeship save anyone? What was it like to change so much; to have one's mind and body completely transformed? He worried that Hyaka would come for him, because if it weren't for him, Hyaka wouldn't have been hurt at all. He shuddered at the thought, and suddenly snapped back to reality at the sound of Aera's voice.

"Rico?"

Rico blinked, momentarily dazed.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh, uh…" He didn't want to express too much concern should it make a mockery of him. So he asked, "What about Hyaka's launcher? I didn't see them come in with it."

"It's in the back."

"Won't he need it? Just in case?"

He had the feeling that Aera was staring at him.

"Do you honestly think that he can hold it – let alone use it?"

Rico fell silent. How could he have been so insensitive? And so stupid in front of these soldiers – and these soldiers especially?

"But I can understand why you might think so," Aera said. "He was perfectly fine until we arrived, wasn't he?" Rico nodded hesitantly, confused. "He'd work himself to death unless a – it's safe; or b – someone takes over. Or until he's dead."

"It's difficult to find someone like that," Larairus added. "Someone to admire. But with that personality, it can be hard to like him. I think…" He paused, and it was impossible to tell where he was looking, or what expression had flashed across his face. "I think people like Hyaka suffer within themselves more than some soldiers do physically."

"And they see a lot more. They see, experience, and think about things no one else has ever even considered," Mikura put in timidly, as if he might have been one of them.

Rico shook his head. "I don't think Hyaka suffers anything internally. He doesn't care about anyone or anything."

Aera replied this time. "Don't be so sure. Those spikes aren't in his arm for nothing."

Rico's gaze fell guiltily to the ground. Would these men continue to find fault and flaw in everything he said and did? Until their ways parted? He mumbled, "What do you mean?"

"Sorry?"

Larairus, who seemed to be the one who noted all the details, repeated what was said.

"What do you mean, 'What do you mean'?" Aera said angrily, and he was suddenly on his feet with his launcher in hand. "'What do you mean'?" He jabbed Rico painfully in the collarbone with his armoured finger. "What do you mean, huh? What the fuck do you mean? Are you nothing? Do you deserve to die? Hyaka didn't do that for nothing. It wasn't for you, I suppose. He could have let you die. But he didn't. So unless you're nothing, Hyaka saw something in you. He would have come out unscathed if it weren't for you. So the least you can do is be grateful. Otherwise… Fuck. You."

In the deathly silence that follow, Aera steped back in one sweeping motion and his free hand fell into the universal symbol for a gun on his outstretched arm. He imitated the recoil of such a weapon, and, seeming to sneer behind his blood-red visor, had it target Rico's skull. Diagonally behind him, Larairus jerked his head impossibly subtly towards the front of the APC, but Aera seemed to see it. He retreated another foot, his gaze locked on his victim, then he turned sharply and disappeared behind the wall that separated the driver from the passengers without a backwards glance.

At first Rico thought he was being thrown out, and that Aera's mood decided who stayed. When he realized that this was not so, and Larairus' signal had nothing to do with him, he didn't know whether or not to be relieved. It frightened him to have angry comrades even more than gunfire. When those on your own side did not accept you, no one else would. He wished someone would have come to his aid. What would Hyaka have done? Would he have intervened? Or stood by, watching? After all, it didn't concern him. What about in Rico's place? Then he'd never be in this situation, he thought bitterly. This brought him back to the fact that it was he who'd began everything in the first place.

Mikura seemed to notice Rico's cheerless face. "Don't take it too hard," he said quietly. "Aera's just –"

"Shut up Mikura," Larairus growled.

"Rico –"

His voice grew dangerously soft. "I said, shut up."

Mikura did stop speaking for a moment. Then – "Larairus."

Larairus stood up, his rifle clanking against his side. He could now be seen as quite tall, about Hyaka's height, maybe taller, but his thin frame was not to be underestimated as easily bowled over. "Didn't you hear me? I said to fucking shut up, damn you!"

"Larairus!" Mikura was trying to resolve the situation. His hands were balled into fists, but Rico, reluctantly admitting, noted that he didn't look in the least threatening – especially with his small size. "We have to –"

The other man's visor came up, revealing a young soldier in his mid-twenties with short, jet-black hair, hard, grey eyes, and a clean-shaven face. He glared fiercely at his comrade. "Shit." He pressed the door open with one hand, stepped out, and was gone.