"So," the base CO, Lieutenant Colonel Camarda, sat down smiling at the head of a small folding table that had been set up in Nicole's cell. It was a minor improvement over the cold void of concrete that filled the room with the exception of the bed, sink, and toilet, and the pilot looked at her new furnishings with a glimmer of hope.

Things were finally looking up. Up-ish, at least. As she slid out the seat from the table and sat down on a regular old chair for the first time in seemingly eternity, she smiled. Up-ish is good enough for me. Good enough for now, anyways.

"So," the Lieutenant Colonel said, clearing his throat. "Ms. Khoury, are you with us, or still up in the sky chasing bandits?"

She jolted back into the here and now and realized she had been daydreaming. "Uh-huh. Feet on the ground, last I checked." She made a scene of looking down at her feet and smirked. "So, why the redecorating?" She gestured to the table.

"Because contract negotiations don't usually happen on a concrete floor, Ms. Khoury." The CO shook his head. "We met briefly earlier. I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Camarda. My friends call me JC. You can call me Lieutenant Colonel Camarda, or 'sir'."

Nicole leaned back in her chair. "Contract negotiations? Oh, so here's where I make the deal to rake in the dough as a merc?" She picked at a fingernail with her thumb, paying little attention to Camarda. "Sounds sweet."

"No. Not exactly." The man chuckled. "Here's where I let you know that under Cascadian law, you're a war criminal, and that you have no leverage whatsoever in these negotiations."

"Short and one-sided, huh? Think you could at least buy me dinner first?" The smirk was starting to fade from her face, but she'd be damned if she didn't go down without a fight. "What if I just don't fight for you, huh? That's leverage."

"Well, your squadron was complicit in attacks against civilian centers, no?"

"Uh, yeah? That's why I defected!" Nicole scowled at the CO. "Where are you going with this?"

"You know what the punishment for the willful attack of protected sites is in Cascadia, right?"

"...Jail, right?" She raised an eyebrow.

Camarda laughed. "You wish. Starts with '.45' and ends with 'caliber'."

Nicole's smug demeanor faded immediately with a simple "...oh."

"Yep. More than likely, we'd hand you over to the Feds and save ourselves the bullet."

"But I left! I defected when we did that!" Nicole's face was flushed with frustration, her hand braced against the table in shock.

"And? It happened before you left your squadron, did it not? You have blood on your hands, Ms. Khoury. But I think we can help you wash it off." Camarda smiled.

"...Fuck." She hung her head with a huff.

"So, would you like to hear the terms of your contract, Ms. Khoury?"

"F-fine." She shivered in anticipation, stuttering slightly, awaiting the news of her future.

"Upon the conclusion of the War of Cascadian Independence, the Contract between the Cascadian Independence Force, hereby referred to as the CIF, and the Signatory, Ms. Nicole Khoury will terminate;" the CO held up a sheet of paper, reading off it.

"The following agreements constitute the Contract: One, the CIF will provide safe haven, food, housing, equipment, maintenance, and other appropriate provisions for the Signatory, who will remain under restrictions until the receipt of an appropriate security clearance; Two, the Cascadian Government will issue a full legal pardon of the Signatory on termination of this Contract, as well as Cascadian citizenship for the Signatory and her family; and Three, the Signatory will operate as a member of CIF-77, Polaris Squadron for the duration of the Contract unless otherwise transferred."

Nicole groaned. "So I'm still a prisoner, and I don't even get the usual mercenary payout, cash, cordium, or gold…"

Camarda smirked. "I'm sure the Federation has plenty of lead for you, if you wish to try your luck with returning. This is the best deal you're gonna get."

"...Point taken."

"I knew you'd see the light eventually, Ms. Khoury. Sign on the line, why don't ya?"

As the CO handed her the pen, she flicked it across the page with a nervous, grim frown.

No going back now.

...but maybe…

There's room to go forwards. Just like Uncle Brian always said.