"Can you believe this? Grimm wouldn't have lasted months in the Republic." Digits exclaimed in shock from Corr's story about Vylat. "Twenty seven survivors out of four hundred thousand. That's over ninety nine percent casualties!"

"May as well have been total." Ord summarized. "Not to mention losing a Sergeant Major in the midst of all that."

"How was the rest of the galaxy afraid of the Empire again?" Siph asked. "I mean, if Grimm and so many of High Command are so stupid and someone with at least a general understanding of warfare can do better than them."

"Numbers. We were great with flash cloning. Could always replenish those losses easily." Ord shook his head.

"Well, on a less morbid topic, how did you two spend your break?" Siph interjected, finishing stowing away his belongings as they all settled back into their shared barracks.

"LAN party at my place with a bunch of guys from school." Yerd answered, "Fun gaming time."

"Of course I'd expect that of you, Digits. What about you, Ord?"

Ord knowingly smirked.

"Where to begin…uh…well…dad spilled the beans, confirmed suspicions. Same Skrem and Rem, for certain…which means the Vaukt and Zha we pretended were something akin to grandparents were…the same people, too."

"I asked what you did on leave, not your family tree."

"Got unreasonably drunk with my dad, listened to him wax on about everything Corr's told us about so far. Vard and Aero came over, played cards with him, my dad, and Vaukt…drank more…and after we were all beyond blasted, Vard of all people had the idea to go out…to Galactic Trim."

"...the strip club?"

"Yeah."

"...I don't believe you."

"Aero dropped us off and told us to have a good time. She didn't want any of us flying in our condition."

"Uh-huh…assuming you're not lying through your teeth…" Digits began, leaning against the bunk with a smirk. "...how'd your mom handle the news of your…adventure?"

"Do you even remember what happened?" Siph added in, morbidly curious. "Kinda strange making it a family trip to see naked women, don't you think?"

"Bad ideas sound like great ones with enough alcohol."

"Fair enough…but do you remember it?"

"Uhhhh…"

He paused to pull out a device with a bunch of pictures and tossed it to them. "I got pictures. These strippers go hard for older guys…didn't help my dad kept casually throwing out there he was an Invader…or the rest of them getting into a pissing contest over being Spec Ops."

His friends eagerly sifted through the images on his dataslate. So he wasn't lying or embellishing. They'd be hard pressed to find guys their age who went that hard. Truly a different breed.

Siph pretended to sniff sadily, wiping at his eyes.

"...they grow up so fast."

"Yeah, well, at least I wasn't having a date with myself and my computer screen, Joker."

"Hey, if I found out my dad wasn't lame and his friends were hardcore, I'd probably find something more exciting to do too."

"Helps to have a cool dad like Skrem I guess, even if he's a real meathead." Ord laughed.

"So how'd your mom take it?" Yerd asked. "Can't imagine she was happy about this bright idea Vard pulled out of his c'hurta."

"Uh, well, you see…"

Ord thought back to that morning and tried to put it into words.

"We got back when Zha and mom were having morning coffee. She asked where we were. I said nothing, Vaukt said nothing. Dad said Waffle House. Mom didn't believe him. Dad then says he's then going to go dig his grave out back because mom's gonna kill him. Zha asks Vaukt why she wasn't invited. Mom glares at us…Vaukt's calm as can be like he was in front of the Alpha Queen smoking on his pipe as I gun it for the door and dad sprouts his Invader legs and does the same."

The pair laughed at the mental imagery Ord described knowing of their friend's parents, especially now through Corr's retelling of events of these figures now being brought to life. The absurdity and ridiculousness of it all was too much to take.

"Safe to assume he survived by the skin of his antenna since you're here and not on bereavement leave." Digits snickered. "What's his plan for forgiveness or does he have one at all?"

"He mentioned he's going to go to the high end liquor shop, pick up a bottle of Black Ice, get some candles, and do up a very nice candlelit dinner with her favorite foods. Might be a start, at least from what he said. Either mom's a romantic or he's desperate."

"What else can he do? Not like you can unsee and undo it all, right?" Digits huffed. "She'll get over it…eventually…maybe."

"We'll see how it turns out." Ord shrugged. "I'm just glad that's all she knows about."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Siph nudged Ord with an elbow and a smirk. "You get up to something you shouldn't have?"

"Let's just say the "look but don't touch" rule got thrown out the window in the VIP lounge. All three of them pooled their monies and…I'll let your imagination do the heavy lifting."

"You dog!" Digits laughed, elbowing him in good nature. "Your old man and his friends sound like fun to hang around. Invite us next time, would you?"

Ord laughed. "Think you two Honor Guard types think you got what it takes to run with Spec Ops? Just might see if I can invite you two next time, but only if you can keep up."

"Oh, listen to him. He isn't even done with this and already thinks he's one of 'em. Going to act too good for us, are you?" Siph teased.

"Just saying I got something to shoot for that's some real cool guy stuff, as Vard put it." He grinned at Siph. "Besides, you two are still my childhood friends, that doesn't change. Plus we promised we'd all stay friends ages ago." He chuckled.

"Honor Guard, Spec Ops, just the trio of bros here right?" Digits slid a dataslate into his pocket before laying back on his bunk.

"Tired from gaming?" Ord asked him as he leaned back against a wall locker.

"Nah. Kind of wondering what Corr's going to tell us next. The story's definitely captivating."

"Someone's gotta keep tabs on things, too. Can't believe all of this stuff was happening and no one knew about it. Puts us in a pretty small club, doesn't it?" Siph observed, finishing stowing away his own luggage and closing his locker.

"It does." A terrifyingly-familiar voice interjected, snapping the trio's attention to the source.

Sergeant Giz stood in their doorway.

"You three get a little too comfortable on leave?"

"At ease!" Ord yelled, snapping to parade rest along with Siph as Digits scrambled out of his bunk to join them.

Giz watched the three cadets scurry like panicked rodents upon realizing they were lacking bearing before him. So much so Digits nearly hit the floor face-first before Siph righted him and they stood line abreast before him. He eyed them all closely, one-by-one, before speaking again. Long enough to make things painfully awkward.

"...I'm going to ask you this once and only once. I expect honesty and integrity out of men to be members of the Honor Guard…one of you making notes and memoirs of Commander Corr's stories?"

"Negative, Sergeant," Ord was the first to answer. "My dad was in the unit, no need for notes from me."

"No, Sergeant," Siph answered next.

Digits hesitated before sighing. "Permission to reach into my back pocket and retrieve my handwritten notes, Sergeant."

"Proceed, Cadet."

Digits reached into the back pocket of his pants and withdrew a small notepad and hood it out for the Sergeant. It contained notes of various individuals, Vortian and Irken alike, people he wanted to look up service records and statuses of. Something in him wanted to connect all the dots. Find out what happened to various actors in this tale as Corr proceeded in his story.

No sooner than the notes were within reach, Giz snatched them from Digits' grasp for his own review. He said nothing, only scanning the sheets' contents before flipping them over or shuffling their order.

"...you three understand the definition of "classified", yes?"

"Yes, Sergeant," Ord answered for the three of them.

Giz shoved the papers into Digit's chest for him to take possession of once again.

"Doubt your professor would take kindly to being picked up by Internal Affairs for breaching protocol due to your reckless abandon, now would he?" The drill instructor pointedly spoke. "You've already had one close shave with the Chancellor of all people. I will personally turn all three of you inside out if I get implicated into whatever fallout comes should you test your luck again. Am I understood?"

"Understood, Sergeant," Ord answered, turning his attention to Digits after replying. "Yerd, burn that notepad."

"Bu-"

"That's an order."

A defeated sigh followed, relenting.

"...will do."

Giz opened one of the pouches on his duty belt, producing a robust, unique-looking dataslate. He held it out to Digits. As the Cadet hesitantly went to grasp it, Giz's iron grip did not relent.

"Listen to me very carefully. Do not link this to any network. Do not plug it into any port. The only electronic interaction you will do with this is to charge it. You take your notes, manually enter them, and save them…do you know what this is?"

Digits was nearly salivating, eager to accept ownership of the device held by Giz and himself.

"It's…it's a data locker, Sergeant. High-ranking Republic officers and politicians are issued these. Biometrically registered, built-in encryption, and enough layers of authentication to make a specialist blush…and you're giving it…to me?"

"I am loaning it to you." Giz clarified sharply. "This will save your c'hurta over your paper scratchings. I mean it. Keep this off all networks. Soon as it pops up and is seen, Internal Affairs will ask questions. If they ask me questions, I won't be asking you questions. Can you handle this responsibility?"

"Yes, Sergeant. Absolutely."

The drill instructor held control of the device for several more seconds before relinquishing it to Digits fully.

"Transfer your notes, destroy the physical copy…and guard that with your lives. This is not hyperbole. The surface has been scratched on what he's told you so far. He keeps going, there will be things that can end alliances and start interstellar wars. Try not to be the death of the Republic, will you?"

"We have no intention of letting that happen, Sergeant, you can count on us." Ord replied with a nod of affirmation. "High Marshal Skrem didn't raise an idiot."

"High Marshal Skrem set the bar of expectation low enough to trip on." Giz…joked? "...and I heard of your escapades already. You going to stay focused or do I have to worry about you getting wild on me?"

"I have a firm goal in my head, I'm going to see it through to the end, Sergeant," Ord answered. He was intent on showing he could earn his way first before following in his father's footsteps.

"Good, keep it that way and sort these two out while you're at it." The drill instructor gestured between Siph and Digits. "As you were…oh…one more thing…have you ever heard the saying "never meet your heroes" before?"

Digits and Siph exchanged looks of confusion with Ord and themselves before looking back to their superior.

"...once or twice, Sergeant…why do you ask?"

Giz smirked with the faintest of shrugs before turning about to depart.

"You'll see…enjoy the rest of your day. Back to it at 0600 tomorrow."

Ord blinked after Giz left and shrugged. "If he means Kazak I don't think we have anything to worry about. Literally never seen him before in my life…and not to mention-" Ord threw his hands up in confusion. None of them were antisocial hermits. "What did he even mean with that?"

"I dunno," Siph also shrugged in confusion. Watching Ord withdraw a tin of cigarillos and a lighter from a pocket. "When'd you start smoking?"

"...Dad gave me a tin to celebrate my entrance into his little club of cool guys." Ord smirked, watching Digits typing away as he sorted through his notes on the dataslate. "I learned not to inhale that night with the card game." A brief pause followed as Ord withdrew one of the cigarillos before slipping the tin back into his pocket.

"Digits. What do you think he meant by that?"

"Honestly? I've got not freakin' idea. Everything so far has been a trip. I couldn't even begin to guess."

"Yeah, no kidding. Finding out your parents are more than just a cruise ship captain and the ex Invader heading Spec Ops, your pseudo-grandparents are two of the Empire's best high echelon commanders, and most everyone around you has been this deep in forming the Republic." Ord mused before laughing, "And that two of them are about to have their seventh kid."

"You know there's one thing I found out just by digging around in some publicly available information." Digits spoke as he typed away.

"What's that?"

"One of the Empire's more well known planets explicitly absent from the Treaty of Krata that ended the Empire."

"Which one?" Ord blinked.

"Conveyor World."

"Wait, really? Why?"

"I dunno. I think we'll find out sooner or later though. Corr wou-" Digits paused after saving his handwritten notes and seeing one file in the dataslate. "...No way."

"What?"

"There's a video here of a IIA discretionary hearing with the chiefs of staff and Warmaster Burgg on Irk after the nonsense on Vylat."

Siph quickly ran to the door to their room and closed it. "Well don't just keep us waiting."