Hachiko had just finished lunch when she first started hearing the news. She was on her way to the hangars when she saw the frantic activity one normally saw in the evening.

VTOLs carrying wounded were coming in almost nonstop, fighters were taking off and heading south, and damaged mobile suits were being brought back on heavy carrier trucks. What was happening? With daytime operations all but prohibited due to the Calachoran Air Force, the most likely conclusion she could come to was that the enemy had, inexplicably, attacked them instead.

When she reached the hangar, she found that it too was not immune to the chaos as many techs were being drafted from elsewhere to help join recovery crews. Whatever had happened, a lot of mobile suits had been lost, and that had to mean the White Devils were involved.

As she walked through the hangar, trying to keep out of everyone's way, she spotted Honah's Zaku being fitted with a new cannon. She recognized it being the same as the twin-barrelled anti-aircraft gun used on some of the anti-aircraft vehicles. Why were they changing it after Honah had proven its effectiveness against the Federation's new mobile suits?

She found Honah sitting by herself on an open parts crate. She wasn't doing anything; not looking at a tablet, checking her equipment, she didn't even appear to be in thought. She just sat there, staring hard at the concrete floor.

Hachiko hesitated. She wanted to approach Honah, act like their last conversation hadn't happened, but that was almost guaranteed not to go over well with Honah. Still, they hadn't spoken since then at all. Normally, they would get over their arguments after a day or two, and be able to carry on casual conversation, but Honah still projected an aura of hostility. Even so, she couldn't stand this awkwardness between them, not after they had known each other for so long. Besides, they were supposed to be teammates, they had to work together. Their Zaku's still had time until they would be fixed, but they couldn't afford to leave it until then.

Hachiko approached cautiously, taking slow steps while still trying to come off as casual. "Hi, Honah, how are you doing?"

Honah looked up at her with harsh eyes then stared back at the floor with a terse, "I'm fine."

Hachiko tried to assure herself that the mere fact she'd spoken to her was a good sign. "I noticed they're changing your armament. I suppose you'll be able to shoot down aircraft more easily with this version since the recoil won't be as severe."

Honah didn't respond, she just kept staring at the floor.

Hachiko sighed. "Honah, I'm worried about you. You haven't acted like yourself."

Honah's head snapped up, her golden eyes burning into hers like lasers. "Neither have you. You used to act like my friend."

Hachiko clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the pain of Honah's barbed words, but they still penetrated deep. "I'm still your friend. What happened the other night had nothing to do with friendship, it was about the articles of war."

Honah sneered. "Articles of war are just ink on a page. They don't actually mean anything. They didn't stop me doing what I did and they didn't stop what the inklings did to my parents!

"My parents were civilians, whose only crime was being in the same convoy as To Minovsky. The Federation wanted to kill him and they just happened to get caught in the crossfire. They didn't care who else they killed or who they orphaned, they only cared about maintaining their superiority over us. So tell me, Hachiko, what value did the Articles of War have then? How is that okay but killing every inkling I see is not?"

Hachiko frowned, feeling torn. Honah's parents had always been a sore spot for her so she had to consider her words carefully. Unfortunately, Honah didn't appear willing to give her the time to do so, as if her mere hesitation was a condemnation.

"You know what your problem has always been, Hachiko? You've always lacked conviction. You've never done things on your own, only what people told you, you've never been passionate or seemed to care about much of anything, just a happy little drone doing what you're told and nothing more. You've always looked down on people doing things because of how they feel. You might as well be a machine for how well you understand people's feelings, because just when I want someone to talk to me and be understanding, you come here and try to give me a lecture!"

"I wasn't trying to lecture you!" Hachiko shouted. Finding herself losing control, she forced herself to settle down and regain a hold on her emotions or things would escalate. "I just… I don't want you to become what it is you hate."

Honah scoffed and slid off the crate to her feet. "I'll never be an inkling, so I don't have anything to worry about there."

Hachiko grimaced. "That isn't what I–."

"If you can't decide who your enemies are and who your friends are then you don't belong here, you're just a nuisance. And you need to decide if you're my friend or not."

Honah stormed out of the hangar, passing the techs who all pretended they'd heard nothing and leaving Hachiko, shocked, numb, and hurt.

Hachiko was sitting in the officers lounge, nursing a strong orange soda. She enjoyed the classical music the lounge played over the more modern tunes played at establishments in Sapurro.

There were others there as well, preferring to stay on base to drown their sorrows in a few drinks. Some of them appeared fresh from the front lines, their uniforms grimy and weathered. Many of them had either far of distant looks or eyes that seemed turn forever inwards. She clearly wasn't the only one having a bad day. Just what had happened at the front?

The lounge doors parted and three more officers walked in, looking no better than anyone else. Their uniforms were dirty and torn in places. One of them sported a bandage around their head and two of them had freshly severed tentacles, probably amputated to let them heal better. Their shoulder patches identified them as the 112th Mobile Suit Squadron. It took a second for Hachiko to remember that as the designation of The Lioness' squadron, also known as "Kalisha's Pride".

They didn't go to the bar, they merely wandered to one of the open booths and silently sat down, looking sullen.

In that moment, words her mother had spoken came back to her. 'When you're having a bad day, try to help someone else who's having a bad day, especially one worse than yours. You'll feel better then.'

Deciding that her mother's wisdom was about the only straw left for her to grasp, she waved the bartender over and ordered three beers. She carried them over to the officer's booth and set them on the table in front of them.

Pulled from their inner thoughts, they looked up at her, and Hachiko flinched internally. They were all higher ranked than her, one of them even being a Lieutenant-Commander, probably Kalisha's second in command.

"I won't ask you to talk," she said, trying to be better with her words than she'd done earlier with Honah. "But please let me buy you beers at the very least."

Just for a moment, their eyes held challenge. They were the eyes of veterans and of people who shared something unseen between them, and Hachiko was an interloper.

The Lieutenant-Commander took a deep breath and invited her to sit with a gesture of their hand, which Eight happily accepted.

"I'm Ensign Turfer, One-twenty-eighth Mobile Suit Squadron."

The commander nodded and gestured to herself then the two lieutenants in turn. "Tolsi, Kelpfield, Coraler, One-twelvth."

"You know our commander?" Kelpfield asked.

"She spoke to me a while ago and gave me some advice."

Tolsi looked at her for a moment, thoughtful. "One-twenty-eight… you're the ones who managed to knock out one of the White Devils, aren't you?"

Hachiko winced, the mention of that night reminding her of Honah. "Y-yes, I suppose, though that wasn't me specifically; I only chopped off its arm."

"Do you know which of them you fought?"

Hachiko frowned at the question and searched her memory. "Let me see… it was one with the zero-three numeral on the shield but no other markings that I recall."

The three other officers glanced at each other, some message passing between them that she couldn't read.

"Have you encountered any with a zero-one or zero-five marked on their shields?"

Hachiko stiffened. "Yes, that same night. After we chased off the zero-three units and tried to secure the downed machine for salvage, they returned with the zero-five units as reinforcements. If I remember correctly, there were five zero-five units total, same with the zero-threes if you count the one we knocked out."

The commander reached into her jacket and pulled out her tablet, setting it on the table in front of her. The screen winked on, showing an image of a mobile suit design she hadn't seen before but vaguely resembled a Zaku with curved spikes on its shoulder pauldrons and lacking a shoulder shield. The commander then swiped quickly through several more images before showing her an image of one of the White Devils. "Do you recognize this one at all?"

Hachiko frowned at it. It was one of the devils alright, the image looking like that from a Zaku's camera, the pose showed it firing it's machine gun at some unseen target. "I recognize the shield number: zero-five. I have only encountered them once and the fight was brief so I don't think I could tell you one from the other."

Tolsi pressed further. "What do you remember of that battle, specifically of the zero-five units? Try to remember."

Hachiko was a little disturbed by the urgency in Toli's tone. She didn't know why she was being asked this but it seemed important to them so she closed her eyes and tried to think back to that night while ignore what happened with Honah.

"They came from the left while the threes came from the right side they'd left from. They came and kept coming on matter how much we shot at them." She shook her head, the memory unsettled her more than she thought it would. "They were so tough, our machine guns barely cratered their armour."

She frowned deeply at the memory of her team commander being vaporized. "We lost Lieutenant Carver, my team commander, to a high calibre weapon of some kind, like a cannon."

The commander leaned forward and quickly swiped through a few more photos. "Like this?"

Hachiko blinked, looking at the image of one of the devils carrying a long cannon, around the same calibre as Honah's old shoulder cannon. "Yes, I think I remember one of them having that. I know the threes didn't have one."

She looked up at the commander and glanced at the other two officers, the obvious dawning on her. "You fought them too?" She'd suspected the White Devils had been involved, but she hadn't imagine it would be the exact same ones she fought.

Now it was they who frowned, and they glanced at each other before Coraler said, sardonically, "she doesn't know," and took a swig of her beer.

Hachiko's confusion mixed with worry. Then she remembered something The Lioness had said when they'd last met. "Wait, you were stationed to the south… which is where all the wounded have been coming from."

Tolsi adopted a grim expression. "Yes. We were in the deep jungle area, a place we considered our hunting ground for a time until the enemy managed to hunker down and the momentum on our front shifted further north to prevent the line being stretched too thin."

She swiped through another few photos, and showed another of the Zaku-esque mobile suits, but this one in mid-air with a bright pink lance jutting out the back. Hachiko was again confused until she noted the mobile suit had three claws attached to the forearm.

"No," she gasped.

"Unfortunately true," Tolsi said sourly. "The White Devils were part of a sudden offensive by the Federation in the far south. They were expected, and we had hoped to lure them there by dangling ourselves as bait, but it seems we did not factor into the Federation's plans at all. They launched a full offensive during daylight to take back the entire valley. Had it only been the White Devils, we would have won the day, we're certain of it. Most of them do not pilot mobile suits the right way, but these –," she swiped to another image, showing one of the 05 marked Devils with three deep gashes across its chest. "The fives are different. They would have to be to defeat The Lioness, like this one with the three scars."

So the one with the three scars was the one that defeated Kalisha? Hachiko rubbed her chin while her tentacles curled and twisted as she thought back to the night she encountered them, thinking about how they compared to the threes.

"They move different," she whispered. "They move… more like us."

"Exactly. The other team we fought there, were zero-ones. They were skilled of course, accurate with their weapons, better positioning, better awareness of their tactical situation, so they are clearly veteran soldiers. But the fives move their mobile suits better, more naturally, making the most use of their units. Given time, I have no doubt they will be the most dangerous ones."

Hachiko looked at Tolsi, then at the two lieutenants. "What is it you want?"

Kelpfield leaned in closer. "Payback. The White Devils took our commander from us. Even if she's still alive she'll be forced to sit and rot in their prisoner of war camps, and we've all heard stories about what happens to us there."

Hachiko grimaced and preferred not to think about it. "Surely it can't only be you three left."

Coraler gave her a bitter smile. "No, there are others, but we are the only ones who managed to walk back. After we were forced out of the jungle the Feddie flyers came down on us and finished some of us off. We were already so damaged from fighting the Devils, their hybrids, and the regular tanks and infantry to cover the withdrawal that it took almost nothing from them to finish us off. Even we barely made it out of there."

"It isn't just about payback," Tolsi said firmly, glancing sideways at Kelpfield. "The longer the White Devils remain in operation the more data the Federation gets for perfecting a mass production mobile suit and these pilots in particular will become more skilled. It's vital that we eliminate them as soon as possible. Our honour demands we complete that responsibility our commander first took on when she lured them there and complete her mission."

Hachiko nodded. That made much more sense. Going after the enemy just for revenge sounded beneath an elite unit like Kalisha's Pride. Even so, that didn't seem to be their main motivation.

'You've always looked down on people doing things because of how they feel. You might as well be a machine…'

Honah's words came back to her, like a throbbing wound. Was she really the outlier, the one who didn't think like everyone else? Was she, in fact, the one that wasn't thinking properly?

"A trap would have to be set," she said. "And you would need a much stronger force supporting you."

"Definitely," Coraler agreed. "We'd be fighting not just the Devils but the rest of the enemy as well. We need to learn more about how they operate and how the enemy has been using them."

"Covering retreats and holding actions from what I understand, Ma'am. Anytime we have sent a strong force to push through the enemy's lines, they have been sent. This is the first time, as far as I know, that they have been used offensively but…" she shrugged her tentacles, "...I'm only an ensign."

"A fair point," Tolsi conceded. "But we will have to enact this plan sooner or later. The offensive won't be complete without taking that valley back, and I suspect the enemy will make us pay dearly for it."

The music died for a moment as the PA system engaged. "Ensign Hachiko Turfer, please report to Commander Stovni's office immediately. Ensign Turfer to Commander Stovni's office. That is all."

The music returned and Hachiko frowned, wondering what this was about.

Could she have found out about what happened with Honah that night?

She quickly downed the last dregs of her drink and stood up. "Forgive me, Ma'ams, that's for me. Please enjoy the drinks and I would be happy to assist you sometime if you need it."

Tolsi nodded slowly. "Much obliged, Ensign. Thanks for the beers."

Handing her glass to the bartender Hachiko made her way out of the lounge and towards the her commander's office.

Hachiko stood at attention in front of her commander's desk as Stovni studied her. For almost a full minute she said nothing, merely looking her up and down with a hard, analytical gaze before she allowed her to relax and take a seat.

Hachiko sat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. She was used to standing when in her commander's office, having her sit down was an unusual informality, but her commander allowed her no time to ponder such things, speaking the moment she was seated.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Turfer. What happened between you and Meadows?"

Hachiko stirred. Stovni's tone was not critical, rather even and neutral, but the question itself brought up many questions about how she knew something had happened or what would prompt her to ask now of all times.

"I am not sure I understand the question, Ma'am."

Stovni let out a raspy sigh, frustration written all over her face. "Meadows came in here a while ago, asking for a transfer to another team or even another squadron."

Hachiko sat bolt upright, her jaw falling. "What?"

Stovni crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at her. "So, you and her are supposed to be friends but this comes as a shock to you?"

"Of course it does! I.. I never…" she trailed off, the memory of their last conversation beating on her soul like a drumbeat of clubs and she settled back down, her spirits sunk as the horrible truth slowly revealed itself to her. Honah, had given up on their friendship. Worse, she might now see her as an enemy, or at least an obstacle.

Stovni spoke more firmly. "Something happened recently that prompted this, Ensign. Don't think we haven't noticed how distant you two have been from each other. You two haven't exactly gone out of your way to integrate with the rest of the squadron but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you two falling out, and that night we ran into the Devils, something happened because things have only gotten worse between you two since. I want to know what that is or are you going to make me go through your combat footage?"

Hachiko hung her head in shame, feeling her loyalty to Honah, the only person she had ever really called a close friend, slipping. She had kept her secret, even though she'd never said she would. She'd been so conflicted about it but now it seemed that it had to be brought out of her anyway. There was no point in keeping a secret that was going to be found out regardless, and she wasn't about to ignore an implied order from her commander. That was not Octarian, and her duty required it.

Hachiko retold the events of that night from the moment they began to pursue the Devils into the jungle, and from there, told her about the incident with the truck of wounded. She recited everything Honah had said to her as best her memory permitted, but given how those razor sharp words had been carved into her consciousness since then, she could remember every scathing syllabel verbatim.

Stovni listened attentively, her tentacles gradually curling outwards. Hachiko then admitted to them having an argument in the hangar and about its general nature. When she'd finished, Stovni leaned forward and rested her arms on her desk.

"Ensign, did you know that in the days before space travel, before energy weapons, there was an unspoken rule among pilots that one didn't shoot ejected pilots? The phrase for it was 'don't shoot parachutes'. Both sides of most wars would usually follow this practice, there was just an unspoken agreement among pilots about this, that's why it was included in the Articles of War later. Anyone who didn't follow this rule was considered a butcher, someone who killed not out of obligation or duty, but because they enjoyed it. Such people were usually maligned by both sides."

Hachiko compressed her lips. "I don't think it's that she enjoys killing; Honah just hates inklings."

"A sentiment I'm sure we can all get behind to some degree since none of us are particularly fond of them, but there is such a thing as taking it too far. If this continues our whole squadron will be given a black mark, officially by the Federation and unofficially by our own people. I don't know about you but I don't want war crimes attached to my record. Honah's actions won't help us win the war, it'll just make the enemy fight us more fiercely. History has proven this time and again."

Hachiko's tentacles curled until they came up to eye level. "I don't think Honah really cares about that."

"Which is what I'm getting at. Meadows is being selfish, putting her own wants and desires above not only the squadron but the Collective as a whole. She could bring the White Devils right down on top of us and I doubt she'd care as long as she got even a chance at killing another inkling. Worse then that, and this might be hard for you to hear, I don't think she cares if she lives or dies."

Hachiko looked at her commander in disbelief, wondering how she could even suggest such a thing. "I can't believe that! After everything she's been through, being the last member of her family, the only remnant of her parent's legacy, I can't believe she'd want to just end it all like that."

"Worse than that, Turfer, is that she might take some of us down with her, and I am not going to let that happen."

She intertwined her fingers and her gaze hardened. "I'm transferring her to Team Two. Hopefully, Lieutenant Stormwave can keep her reigned in. If not, I won't hesitate to court martial her. Great Creator, I'd have done it already if we weren't so short of pilots, so I have little choice but to keep her on for now."

Hachiko's throat tightened. A court martial of that level would send Honah to prison for certain, or maybe a penal battalion.

"M-Ma'am…"

"Her grace period is over, Turfer. I suggest you keep that in mind and not associate yourself with her any more than you have to. I'm willing to keep the incident with the truck off your record since you didn't actually participate in the action, and whatever your flaws may be you've been nothing but an asset to this squadron since you arrived. I do think you could stand to bond more with your squadron mates, but I can't force you to do it."

Hachiko's bottom jaw quivered as she struggled to hold back her emotions in front of her commander. "I… I have never been good at bonding with people. That's why Honah was always my only friend."

Stovni half turned in her chair. "That would explain a few things. From now on, however, you're going to have to start to learn to do things without her. You don't need her, Turfer; you're plenty capable on your own. We'll work on that sometime, but for now you're dismissed."

Hachiko stood and saluted, then and walked out of the office, still holding back tears.

She needed to do something, anything to earn Honah's forgiveness and have them become friends again, for her sake. Her mind peered down some very dark roads, and some of the thoughts that came to her turned her stomach. Would they be necessary? Was there some other way? She didn't know. How far would she be willing to go to preserve their friendship? To save Honah from herself? She didn't know, she honestly didn't know. Where did her duty lie?

Author's Notes:

Oh no, drama!

A lot of you probably saw something like this coming. Obviously, no reasonable commander will want a loose canon like Honah under their command, as Stovni illustrates quite well.

We also get a look at a few members of Kalisha's squadron. Cults of personality are another of those Gundam staples it seems. You can see the cracks showing in Hachiko. Could they offer her the support she needs without Honah? Where will things go from here?