Marcella blinked sleepily out at the thin line of pink that had only just started to creep up over the horizon.

She couldn't say she particularly enjoyed getting up at the absolute crack of dawn (no sane person would, Cas excluded) huddled outside in the chill of the night air, barely able to keep her eyes open. The lack of sleep over the past few months was definitely starting to catch up with her, a dull ache radiated throughout her arms and legs and her head felt heavy. The stupidest part was she had to be out there even earlier than the general had demanded so as not to arouse suspicion. So here she was, crouched outside Fort Audax like an idiot and pretending she wasn't just inside Cas's room all night. Ridiculous. She couldn't wait until this whole farce was over. Maybe Cas was right and today would be that day.

She sighed and kneaded the back of her neck with her knuckles to draw out the stiffness. Such a long day ahead, she would be nervous if she wasn't so damn tired. The thought of having to play tour guide and make that arduous trek all the way up to the comm station with General Whatever and Obnoxiously Loud Guy was…not ideal. Oh well, no point in dwelling on it now, it had to be done.

She crouched down and tried to focus on the small portable terminal in front of her, its orange screen illuminating her face. It whined and beeped, trying to establish a signal. It emitted a harsh grinding noise that sounded a little concerning. Damn it, this thing really was on its last legs.

The holo-screen flickered weakly but finally emitted a melodious chime, indicating it had managed to establish a connection. A familiar square of static took up the holo-screen. Phew.

She leaned in toward the terminal. "Hey, uhh…" Crap, what was his name again? " …MachineDeathGod?" she guessed.

There was a sharp hissing noise over the speaker, the tell-tale sign of air being sucked in by some sort of breathing apparatus. "Hhhhsk!...if you are referring to TechnoRazerLord…" A voice announced dramatically, "…he is dead."

Marcella just rubbed her eyes as she stifled a yawn. "Ah, right. Of course he is."

"I...am his replacement - hhhsk!" The voice continued with a dramatic flair that was very familiar, " He died bravely. Viciously torn apart by rabid varren - hhhsk! - but managed with his last ounce of strength to transfer his clients and entrust all their information…to me. But fear not - hhhsk - your secrets are safe with me, I won't let his horrific death be in vain."

"...Uh-huh."

"You may refer to me as…" There was a needlessly long pause, "...BloodHaze."

Marcella blinked repeatedly, still trying to shed the sleepiness that clung to her like a blanket. "...I'm gonna be honest, that sounds a lot like 'Blaze'. If you're going to keep reinventing yourself, you need to get out of your comfort zone."

There was a long pause, but it didn't seem to be out of dramatic necessity. "…you think so? Hhhhsk!"

"Yup." She shielded her eyes from the sun that had just started to inch its way upward. "If you want people off your trail, you need to get more creative."

"Oh…huh… " The volus seemed to have dropped the bravado, his muffled voice flat and finishing with a disappointed wheeze. "...Maybe you are right. Hhhhsk!"

"How is it looking on Indomitus's arrival?"

"Urm, still on schedule." There were the sounds of tapping and shuffling along with a resigned sigh, "Confirmed meeting with a local dealer, planetside most likely within the next few days - hhhsk - how about DeathDealer? "

Marcella tapped open her omni-tool and typed a few notes. "I don't know, I kind of prefer the single syllable names."

"Yes…yes, maybe that's it - hhhhsk! "

"Look, just keep me updated, okay? I'll call you later."

"Yes, I will. Um - hhhsk - consider this information… classified! No one will be able to wrench it out of me - hhhsk - I'll protect it with my–"

"Yeah, okay, bye ." She cut the feed and the holoscreen flickered off. She stuffed the terminal into her bag, excitement welling up in her chest. Soon…soon she would have her chance and it would be the beginning of the end. A real lead. Any day now…!

A persistent gnawing in her chest soured her excitement. It was fine, it would all work out, she just needed a plan. And she'd think of one. Eventually.

She shook the feeling away. Ugh, logistics, never mind that right now. Just focus on today, that was what she needed to get through.

She perked up when she spied a familiar figure coming out of the fort marching their way toward her in a stiff and especially uptight manner. Blue face, broad shoulders, serious expression. Her mandibles flicked into a coy smile as he approached her.

"Oh, hello, you, " she teased, " I got a good start this morning, up nice and early. Yup - walked all the way here. From…wherever I supposedly live now. Totally wasn't just in your room the whole time–"

"Okay, okay…" Castis grumbled and chanced a glance behind him. "Careful with that, they will be here any minute."

Marcella noted his posture. Tense of course, as it usually was, with his leg bouncing ever so slightly when he was especially anxious. Her chest squeezed slightly when she noticed her knife sheathed on his hip. He had worn it ever since she had given it to him. Aw. But there was definitely an aura of unease around him that seemed worse than usual. She could practically taste it. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," he responded, unconvincingly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, " Nervous about today?"

"Of course not."

"You're making that face."

"I'm not making any face!"

"Yeah you are, you got that –" she scrunched her nose plates and clamped her mandibles tight, frowning in an imitation of his sour look. "–face."

"I do not." But he looked away and was already getting to work tugging at his fingers.

She grabbed his shoulder, giving it a good shake as though to rattle the thoughts out of him. "Hey - I got this. I've been up this trail a million times!" More or less. "I know what I'm doing."

"I know…I know you do." Cas took a few deep breaths, his expression softening slightly as her hand trailed up his arm. "I just…really need this to go well."

Something weird settled in Marcella's chest and made its home there. Need. Not want. She gave him a reassuring shoulder squeeze. Nothing would go wrong.

Castis suddenly took a step back, hands snapping to his sides, eyes wide over her head, his torso straightening up as though a pole had replaced his spine. Marcella turned to follow his gaze and sure enough, two familiar figures were making their way over.

General Faldos, his gait surly, his scowl fixed, the sun reflecting off the silver of his armor making it almost as bright as the white on his tan plates. He was followed by an almost disturbingly large figure. Fedorian, painted yellow, all smiles as usual, and his uniform matching Cas's in dark purple.

"Sir!" Castis shouted as they approached, his arm whipping up for a salute so fast it almost smacked Marcella in the face.

The general grumbled, waving him off with an annoyed flick of his hand. "At ease. Domiticus is bringing a rover from Induro around now, he'll be here in a few minutes."

Castis stepped aside, gesturing toward Marcella in an exaggerated way. "Khatirus is here, sir. She'll be our guide once we reach the base of the mountain," he said, unnecessarily. Marcella suppressed the urge to cringe.

"Hmph," Faldos answered. He barely glanced in her direction, using only another dismissive hand wave at her to acknowledge she was there at all. He seemed to want to get this over with as much as she did. "We'll see about that."

…Okay, great. That was more or less what she expected. Dealing with that all day was sure gonna be fun. Oh well. She swallowed a retort she would have loved to fling at him and instead hummed amicably. "It will be my pleasure, sir." She said, meeting his eye with a dry smile.

She wasn't afraid of him.

Well, she was but she wasn't about to let him know that.

What followed was a very awkward, but thankfully short, ride in an old rover that clearly needed some extreme maintenance. The cabin was tiny and smelled somehow dank even though it had probably been parked for who knows how long at some neighboring fort in the burning heat. Castis had sat as far away from Marcella as possible (fair enough) sitting up near the front while Faldos drove which, unfortunately, meant she had to get way too close to Fedorian. Shoved in the back, squeezed against his bulky form in a filthy, smelly two-seater almost made her retch. The general was talking about something, it was hard to make out over the deathtrap of a machine they were riding and, frankly, she didn't really care. It was only when Fedorian would chime in, his large shoulders squashed against her face and vibrating with his incredible vivacious humming that she realized they were just talking about the repairs. And then Faldos would snap at him for saying something stupid and Marcella would silently wish she was anywhere else.

Castis had said barely two words to anyone, only nodding fervently at whatever the general said, his hands gripped together like a vice. It was hard not to stare. His mandibles were twitching so erratically they looked like they were vibrating and he bounced his legs up and down so forcefully it rattled his whole body. He was wound so tight she thought his head might pop off at any moment. She didn't dare give him any kind of reassuring purr as acknowledging him at all more than necessary in front of the other two would probably give him a heart attack and make him keel over.

Once they reached a mountain with a pile of rocks at its base too narrow for their vehicle, they set out on foot. Marcella was no expert at navigating the rocky labyrinth that met them but she had been up enough times to at least look like she knew where she was going. The mountain wasn't as high as it was almost impossible to find the right path up, large chunks of stone jutted out at every angle, impossible to see over and forcing one to carefully move between them and hoping you didn't reach a dead-end. Luckily, the formation of rock and its differing coloring was distinct enough that she remembered where to go, at least most of the time. Only a few instances of backtracking (followed by the increasingly irritated grumbling of the general) were required. She didn't like making this hike in the first place as it was as tedious as it was frustrating, so catering to the increasingly hostile environment of the general made it nigh unbearable.

They had been climbing for about half an hour until Faldos had called her to stop, shoving past her to the front. She had painstakingly led them up a series of twists and turns through identical pathway after identical pathway but now, on this last leg, the general had insisted on leading the way. As though having to follow her for even a second longer would shatter his delicate little ego.

And so, every time they would reach a diverging pathway he would pause for a few seconds until she shouted either left or right and the general would turn whichever way she had said in a manner that indicated that was where he was gonna go in the first place. Besides that, his generally piss-poor attitude and Cas explicitly ignoring her, she found herself purposely lagging behind further and further to get as far from them as possible. Unfortunately, Fedorian seemed to have the same idea and he fell into step with her, much behind the other two. He probably assumed she would sneak off, leaving them to be trapped in this maze, and felt the need to keep an eye on her. Whatever made him feel useful, she supposed

Marcella looked up at the sky framed between the walls of rock, bright and cloudless. A nice reprieve. She started humming a little tune. " Hm hmm…"

This wasn't that bad, all things considered. The general had been quiet for a little bit, a nice breeze was blowing through the canals, and they were almost to the top.

"Do you need-need me like I need-need you…" she sang softly.

Fedorian's head snapped toward her, his brown eyes wide and furious, "...Is that Gravi-T? "

She looked over and raised a brow plate at him. "Uh, yeah. It is."

"Tch." Fedorian turned away in what seemed like disgust. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like 'typical'.

Marcella's head fell back onto her shoulders, eyes rolling back up to what little sky could be seen between the rock walls, and she flicked her mandibles into a smirk. So obnoxious.

She glanced over to where Cas and the general were farther up the trail, making sure they were still out of earshot before she spoke, "You know, you don't have to be jealous Ferelden–"

"Fedorian."

"–I completely understand that my presence has you…" she shot him an overly empathetic look, "...scared."

He turned suddenly and met her eye with another one of his famous smiles, his subvocals rumbling much too cordially. "Noooo, no, I'm not scared! I'm just concerned about Vakarian's work ethic!"

"Oh, is that right?"

"Of course! He's worked so hard, you know, it was his dream to come here, to get as far as he has. It would be a real shame if he were to get distracted and throw it all away!"

Marcella flicked a mandible in irritation. "He seems more than capable of handling it to me."

"Oh, sure, he thinks he can have it all, he's always taken on more than everyone. But this is different. He needs to get the job done." The jovial purring of Fedorian's subvocals became strained. "He has never left his work half-finished before. He was always very thorough!"

She gave him a long look. "...Oh, no, no, don't you worry, he still gets the job done…and he always finishes." She purred wickedly, delighted to see Fedorian's posture stiffen at her implication. "He's verythorough."

Fedorian turned away again, a very unhappy noise rumbling out of his throat. Marcella allowed herself a little triumphant hum. Cas will not be happy when he hears about this but seeing the big guy drop his phony geniality was well worth it.

The low furious rumbling continued, Fedorian starting to mutter something to himself, loudly of course, but just quiet enough that she only caught little snippets. " …it's not that I'm not glad that he's more…but why did it have to…but it is good that…"

"What's that?" She piped up, feeling her mood sour again.

Fedorian huffed and his mandibles tightened against his face, but his subvocals rumbled a little gently. "I…I saw what you did."

Marcella wasn't really in the mood for any more games, "And what exactly did I do this time?"

"Just - I mean - yesterday, he was…he was panicking. Like he always does. But you reassured him and he actually…calmed down?"

"So?"

"...I've never seen him respond like that before."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Uh-huh..."

"He's completely off track, and he's very distracted, and it's terrible timing but…." he stared at the ground, his mandibles clicking sheepishly, "...I think you're what he needed."

Marcella raised a brow plate again but her shoulders relaxed, irritation ebbing away. Just a little. "…Look, I know you don't like me, I'm not exactly the best influence on him, and I know I have a bad habit of pissing people off - but as long as he wants me around, I'm staying. He's happy."

There was a brief pause. "...I know. I can tell." Fedorian said.

She raised her brow plates even higher at that.

Well, well.

There was a brief moment where the two of them just walked silently, the weird almost-civility just hanging in the air.

"So…you've just been staying with him," Fedorian said.

Marcella took another cautious glance at the backs of Cas and the general, now much farther up the trail. "Just a few days..."

"Does he still insist on doing his little exercise routine in the morning?"

She shot him a look, admittedly a little taken aback. "...Yeah. Every morning."

"Ha! He would always bother me about doing those with him. I guess I don't miss that!"

"...Honestly, it's bad enough when he takes almost an hour polishing his face plates every other day."

"He does?!"

"Oh, yeah."

Fedorian held up a fist in triumph, "I knew it!"

"But, yeah, he gets up so early and if he's not polishing or scrubbing or picking lint off the bed, he's exercising and, of course, he guilts me into doing it–"

"Oh, totally."

"–and if I say I don't want to he pouts –"

" Yup - and then if you do do it - if you even think about skipping reps or not going down as low, he gets all–," Fedorian waved his large hands in the air and pitched his tone down an octave, not unlike Castis's own voice, "'That's not the right way to do iiiit'!"

"Ha!" Marcella's mandibles flared in a wide grin despite herself, "He does sound like that."

"No matter how many I do - it's never good enough for him, it's always like 'okay, now ten more'–"

"I always just tell him that I'm still sore from last time. Or I pretend like I don't know how to do it and he has to correct my form over and over–"

"Oh, he hates that!"

"-and he always gets so mad and you can always tell when he's really angry because he–"

"-puts his hands on his hips!"

"Yes!"

"EXCUSE ME!"

Marcella looked up, coming face to face with Cas, eyes furious, his stance wide and his hands on his hips. "This is supposed to be a serious mission, " he hissed, "This is no time to be joking around, this behavior is very unprofessional!"

It was too much. She doubled over and laughed, clutching her side, barely able to breathe. Beside her, Fedorians own laugh was so loud it echoed off the walls of rock. She stuffed a fist in her mouth desperate to quell the noise but only cracked up harder when she saw the baffled look on his face.

"W-what is so funny…!?" Castis screeched, his neck flushing in embarrassment.

"Here." A voice suddenly rang out, far up ahead. General Faldos had reached the top, a clean line of early morning sky sprouting over the flat top and outlining his silhouette. Even from that distance, she could hear the command radiating through his subvocals.

Castis obediently turned and marched up the path toward him as though he was some kind of automaton programmed specifically to carry out the general's will. Fedorian followed suit, but not without one last look at Marcella that she couldn't quite read. Well, at least they weren't enemies anymore. Maybe.

And at least they had arrived.

When she followed them up the narrow path and reached the top she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She didn't doubt they wouldn't make it so much as she was surprised it had otherwise gone so smoothly. The mountain leveled out not unlike the plateau where she kept her grass but much more uneven, with only a few feet of smooth surface before being broken up by various jagged rocks bursting out of the ground, like mini mountains themselves. Past a few of these formations was a clearing that held a large station, its satellite towering over them, but extremely ancient and decrepit. The panels and terminals and various bits didn't look too promising either. She was surprised it even still worked at all.

Faldos immediately began barking out orders. He marched around shouting and gesturing as though commanding an entire platoon instead of Cas and the large maybe-not-as-obnoxious-as-he-first-appeared friend. Marcella leaned back on one leg and watched them scramble. She couldn't help but feel a little proud. She had actually done it! Thank the spirits it was finally over.

"Well, gentlemen, that concludes our little tour," she said, waving a hand with an amused flourish.

"Shut up, filth," Faldos growled.

Marcella shut her mouth with a snap, embarrassment, and outrage stabbing her in the gut. Oh yeah, she had almost forgotten he was a huge pain in the ass. So much for her good mood.

Now, the smart thing to do would have been to just ignore him, but:

"...A simple 'thank you' would've been fine," she replied.

"Your 'thank you ' is not getting thrown in a cell where you belong with the rest of your kind." he snarled.

Marcella blinked a little too rapidly, the humiliation growing and starting to gnaw at her insides. She could feel a wave of simmering anger start to rise up her throat.

"Sir, sir, o-over here, I think I found something," Castis called over from in front of the terminal, his hands gesturing to catch Faldo's attention as though he was some large, dangerous animal that needed to be distracted. Immediately Cas started spouting some of the readings that were popping up on the holo-screen that had appeared in front of him. It seemed he was on the same page that the sooner the station was dealt with, the sooner this would be over. Fine by her. No sense pushing their luck.

But Faldos didn't seem to want to let it go. "You're lucky we at least found a use for you," he spat at her before finally turning his attention to Castis and marching over.

From across the clearing, she saw Fedorian shoot her a look. Again, his face wasn't entirely readable. Agreement? Pity? Whatever it was, she didn't need it. Marcella returned a glare, silently baring her teeth. Oh, don't you start, you're barely any better.

Spirits, she wished she had something to do. It was so awkward and boring just watching them fiddle with that old piece of machinery, it seemed to take hours before any progress was made. At least Cas looked like he was enjoying it, as much as he could have given the circumstances at least. He always did like working with his hands, poking around old technology, calculating and calibrating algorithms, and…boring stuff like that. The general just silently watched, though she could've sworn he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye, something malicious twinkling there that she didn't want to think about.

Fedorian just hung back, looking about as bored as she felt. She tried not to think about the fact that he wasn't contributing anything and yet not drawing nearly as much ire as she was. What a shock.

"Here," she overheard Cas say, as he had opened one of the lower hatches and poked his head in, "one of the transponders is disconnected."

"Ah, of course, figured it might be that," Marcella said, absent-mindedly, picking at her nails. Only when there was a sudden, tense silence did she realize they had heard her.

"...Are you finding it difficult to keep your mouth shut?" The anger in Faldos's subvocals was almost palpable.

Marcella cursed herself under her breath, though the spike of humiliation returned and was boring into her stomach. "I, uh–"

"Keep your inane comments to yourself," he said, before turning back to the panel, "We're already well aware that you're stupid."

Marcella's stomach twisted even more painfully. Before she could stop herself she spoke again, "…if I'm so stupid, why did you need my help getting up here?"

Faldos head whirled back toward her so fast she was amazed his neck didn't snap. In a few steps, he was right in front of her, sticking his white painted face into hers, "If you were one of my men I'd gut you for such insolence!"

She stood up straight and held his gaze. She might have been afraid if she wasn't so insulted. But all she felt was anger.

Well, thank the spirits I'm not.

It was difficult to hide the resentment in her voice, " …My apologies–"

"If I hear one more word out of you I'm throwing you into the smallest holding cell on base until you beg me to kill you." He cocked his head to the side, subtones humming condescendingly, "Do you understand…?"

Marcella's talons bit into the palms of her hands. Never had she cowed to anyone. If you didn't have your dignity, you had nothing.

Oh yes, I understand. I understand that you're such an incompetent bastard you were sent to the ass-end of space to be as far away from any actual Hierarchy leadership as possible. I also understand that you're too stupid to realize you hold no power anymore and are a washed-up, pitiful joke of a man that is still playing pretend as if you even had a chance in hell of being worth anything ever again.

But, past the general's contorted face, she saw him. Cas, looking at her from across the clearing, his mandibles trembling, his hands working furiously. His eyes were so wide, his jaw so tight, he was even pitched forward - begging, pleading.

'Please.' She could practically hear it.

She exhaled slowly, the air hissing out of the sides of her mouth. Only for him.

"...Yes." Her reply was almost a whisper.

"Yes…what?" The general was so close to her face that she could smell his sour breath.

She tightened her mandibles to her face and dragged her tongue over her teeth. It was almost unbearable but she somehow managed. "Yes…sir."

Faldos finally leaned back, mandibles slowly flicked into an expression of pure satisfaction, smugness coming off him like an odor. "Good."

Marcella tore her eyes away from his face, heat continuing to flare up across the skin under her plates. She stared at a spot on the ground while her heart continued to pound.

"Do you see, Vakarian?" Faldos looked back at Castis, a hand extended toward her like a teacher demonstrating an important lesson to a prized student, "that's how you deal with anyone beneath you."

Marcella turned away and walked a few feet to the outside of the clearing. She knelt down, removed her shoulder bag, and pretended to look for something inside it. She tried to keep her hands from shaking.

"All it takes is one. One little degenerate. If you let even one soldier step out of line, that's the end of it. They are your subordinates and should be reminded as often as necessary. A true leader doesn't take dissent from anyone." She heard a shuffle of dirt as he had probably turned back around to gesture violently at her again, "Especially not some bare-faced bitch."

Something white-hot raked up Marcella's spine, itching and creeping under her plates.

Don't.

There was a tingling in her jaw and the heat rushed to her face. She gritted her teeth, still trying to focus on the inside of her bag.

Don't do it.

She got to her feet and turned to face him, "...You have five seconds to get your head out of your ass or I will leave you here to rot."

Faldo's eyes practically bulged out of his head. His mouth fell open, his mandibles fluttering wildly, "You - you… what did you…?" he sputtered, completely dumbstruck. Now, there was a sight.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Marcella mocked, holding up her hands in a gesture of faux humility, a devilish smile playing across her mandibles, "are you deaf and stupid?"

Her smile vanished when his fingers wrapped around her throat.

"You…pathetic… worthless …!" Faldos's voice rang out around her. She felt herself be lifted off the ground, the last of the air squeezed out of her windpipe. "...You're…you're nothing. You are nothing." He was trembling in fury, his biotics flared around him so bright he looked as though he was enveloped in blue fire.

Marcella opened her mouth but not even a wheeze came out. Her lungs were already starting to burn and she felt as though the blood would burst out of her veins. Instinctively, she went for her knife. She clawed desperately at her waist, feeling for the handle.

But it wasn't there.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The words echoed stupidly in her mind as panic fully set in. She twisted and fought, kicking her legs wildly and pulling desperately at the hand around her throat, but it held fast. She could feel herself fading.

Between the coming dark and the pain, Faldos's voice was all she could make out, muffled as though lightyears away.

"I'll make this quicker than you deserve."


Castis couldn't breathe.

Every fiber of his being rattled and shrieked like he was being electrocuted. His mind was a cacophony of agony, horrible screeching thoughts of nothing coherent - just terror, anger, despair. His hands were moving on their own. He was only vaguely aware that he was screaming something, his own voice just one more deafening sound in his ears.

"LET - LET HER GO - LET HER GO NOW - RIGHT NOW OR I WILL BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!"

For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. Slowly, agonizingly, the general's head turned toward him. He still held Marcella high, dangling by her neck, her movements becoming more and more languid by the second, but now Faldos's full attention was focused solely on Castis.

His eyes were two slits of fury. His mouth exposed every one of his sharp teeth yet the deep hum that rumbled out of him was unmistakably one of shock. And betrayal.

In one motion he released his grip on Marcella and she fell into a heap at his feet.

Seeing Marcella on the ground seemed to bring Castis back, releasing the vice in his chest so quickly that he felt as if he would collapse. The roaring din in his mind finally ceased. He took a shuddering breath and blinked as though coming out of a daze. There was an odd throbbing in his fingers as he apparently held something painfully tight. He was suddenly very aware that he was holding up his pistol.

And it was pointed right at Faldo's head.

"I…I…" Castis stuttered, still shaking, still unfocused but the reality of what he had done slowly squeezing him in an icy grip.

Faldos fully turned, squaring his shoulders toward him. His eyes blazed blue fury, rippling and swirling up his body in an angry vortex.

"…I…" Castis's jaw began to quiver.

Faldos jerked his arm back. The gun ripped from Castis's hand, violently yanking at the joints of his fingers, burning even through his gloves. The pistol sailed somewhere to the side. Faldos took a step forward and Castis felt his spine turn to ice.

"Sir!"

A huge form seemed to materialize in front of him, blocking the general from sight. It was Fedorian, his hands up defensively, his subvocals humming in a placating manner and acting as a shield between Castis and Faldos like a wall of plates and muscle.

"Sir - please - this is just - t-this is all just a misunderstanding!" Fedorian's laugh echoed hollowly around them. Castis couldn't see his face, but the cheeriness in his voice didn't do much to mask his desperation. "We're all a little on edge here, how about we just talk, huh?! Let's all just take a deep breath and we can–"

There was a deafening sound, as though the very air around them was being torn apart. All Castis saw was a bright flash and Fedorian was in the air, thrown to the other side of the clearing.

His back collided against one of the large formations of rock with a sickening crunch and slid to the ground. He shuddered violently, a low groan eeking out of him before his body went limp. His head lolled forward onto his chest and he was still.

Castis tore his eyes off of the crumpled form of his friend and back toward Faldos. The eyes of the general were on him again, blazing in unspeakable fury, and he took another step forward, the power surrounding him sending horrible tingles through Castis's body. Only one thought thudded repeatedly in his mind.

I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

Faldos raised a blue-tinged fist.

I'm going to die.


Marcella writhed on the ground, sputtering and gasping, sucking in air that burned her throat and ripped through her lungs. The back of her head pounded from where it had hit the ground and her legs throbbed from the hard landing.

She finally managed to stagger to her feet, still coughing and clutching at her neck. Vaguely, she became aware of something happening on the other side of the clearing. There was screaming, crackling, blasts of blue light so bright it stung her eyes.

She squinted at the commotion, her hearing still muffled and her limbs still shaking. Slowly it came to her. Bright waves of energy enveloped a form that was straddling a figure, pummeling them mercilessly into the ground. There was a dull pounding sound every time one of its fists made contact, speckling the rocks and ground with some dark blue liquid-

It hit her like a shot in the chest.

"Oh…" she croaked, "Oh - spirits - no - no - NO! "

She lunged forward, but her legs buckled under her and she resorted to crawling toward the scene. The rough ground scraped her hands and knees as she desperately looked around for something, anything-

She saw it, a few feet away. A pistol.

She threw herself forward and snagged it, her hands shaking as they wrapped around the grip. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled toward the horrific sight.

Faldos was ranting and raving, and relentlessly pummeling the form underneath him with all his strength. His subharmonics clanged and shrieked hysterically, desperately, "You - were supposed - to be different! After all I did - I trusted you! You're just - like - THEM!" The words were barely coherent, drowned out by the sounds of his biotics warping, and crackling, along with the sickening sound of his fists pounding into flesh.

"Hey!" Marcella screamed, clutching the pistol and staggering toward him, "Hey you –"

She went rigid as a force seized her, permeating her body and freezing her in place. The words stuck in her sore throat, as every nerve in her body felt as if it was being squeezed, ready to burst under incredible pressure.

Faldos had redirected his attention toward her, a swirling blue hand outstretched, holding her in place. His eyes blazed in fury, spittle dripping down his chin.

"Fine," he snarled, "you will die fir…s…"

Faldos's eyes widened and his head jerked up lightly as though in surprise. His mouth remained open, but nothing more than a thick sound bubbled out of him. His mandibles slacked, drooping alongside his jaw that had suddenly jutted out at an odd angle. It took Marcella a second to notice a fist directly under his chin, trickles of cobalt blood starting to dribble down through its clenched fingers. It took another second for her to realize the fist was clutching something. The worn handle of a knife - her knife - was sticking out of the underside of Faldos's jaw.

The energy around Marcella evaporated. Her legs buckled at the sudden release and she landed hard on her knees. But she remained rigid, staring in horror.

Faldos let out one last sickening gurgle, his left mandible still twitching as Cas released the handle, and the general slowly slumped to the ground. Dark blue blood pooled around his neck, the handle of the knife still stuck in his head like a skewered piece of meat.

Marcella trembled, but not at the sight of Faldos, his eyes still open and staring at nothing, the blood seeping steadily into the collar of his armor.

But at what laid next to him.

"Oh - no - oh no, no, no, oh, please, no…no!" She wheezed. She crawled the rest of the way over, grabbed the now lifeless body of the Faldos, and rolled him roughly out of the way to see–

Her stomach plummeted to her knees and she put her hands to her mouth. "No…!"

Castis was splayed out on his back, beaten, and broken on the ground. His eyes were almost swollen shut, a mandible looked bent at an angle, and the amount of dark blue blood that was slowly blooming across the chest and waist of his uniform almost made her heart stop.

Hurriedly she fell upon him, assessing the damage, barely able to look at the cracked plates, the swollen skin, the leg twisted at a sickening angle.

"My-m-my bag I think I might have some m-medi-gel in - in my...!" she sobbed, her hands shaking violently, unable to look away from his face. What little of his eyes she could see behind his quickly swelling eyelids were on her, thankfully focused and uncloudy. Slowly, he lifted a hand toward her face, trembling, his fingers just grazing her cheek plate.

"N- no - no - spirits - don't move," she brushed his hand aside and reached toward his chest in an attempt to remove his armor, "J-just stay - hold still - I've got you…!"

She felt the hand return to her face, wet fingers lightly holding her cheek plate. He took a shaky breath and finally spoke:

"Are…you…o…kay…?"

Marcella swallowed a hard lump, reinvigorating the pain in her throat. She placed her own hand shakily on top of the one on her face. The pain flared again as she stifled a keen, her eyes blurry and burning as she squeezed the hand as gently as she could. She nodded.

"I can't…I'm sorry…I shouldn't have…I should've just s-shut my- my stupid…!" She croaked, her throat still unbearably raw. Her head pounded and she wanted to scream. Why? Why did he do it? No one had ever done anything so stupid, so reckless for her. But that's who he was. One of a kind. And that's why she...

And now, because of her, he might be...

She buried her face into his hand, barely able to get out the words between sobs, "I…I - love - you…! I luh - I l-love you…!"

After a moment, Cas's mandibles flexed into an unmistakable smile, "...Heh."

Then he closed his eyes, his head drooped to the side and he said no more.

"No..." The word took the last of her breath away, a dark pit in her stomach threatening to consume her.

Marcella grabbed his wrist tightly, her own heartbeat thundering in her chest. Still a pulse. Her thoughts rushed back to her bag, but then to his armor, still covering most of the damage, then to his twisted leg. Her hands hovered over him uselessly, she only knew the most basic of first-aid. He needed help, real help. She had to get him out of there. But moving him might just make it worse.

She beat the sides of her head with her fists, subtones screeching in frustration. "No -no - no - no - no-"

"Move."

A voice boomed behind her and she froze. For one sickening moment, she thought it was Faldos, shambling over, still alive and sputtering from the knife still embedded in his brain. But when she turned she only saw the grim expression of Fedorian, blood caked around his nose.

"Move," he said again. "I said MOVE."

The way his subvocals thundered almost made her jump. She scooted aside, allowing him to kneel down, and watched as his eyes swept furtively over Castis's unconscious body

"Fuck." The power in his voice sent a chill down her spine. There was no smile. There was no jovial purr. He pulled up his omni-tool and got to work immediately. His large hands were strangely nimble as he removed armor, dispensed medi-gel, and gently straightened the twisted limb.

Marcella tried to steady her breathing. The way Fedorian worked, he definitely seemed to know what he was doing. She clutched her chest as if to prevent her heart from leaping out of it. She didn't know if she actually believed in the existence of the spirits, but if there was any time to call on some form of a higher power, it was now. Spirits...please...

But as he worked his discordant humming grew louder and louder, until the words rolled out of his mouth breathlessly. "...Vakarian, why…why? Why did you do it? Damn you...you killed him...!"

Marcella sniffed, casting a reprehensible look in the direction of the general's corpse. "It's what he deserved."

Fedorian whirled on her, mandibles flaring in outrage. He was starting to lose it, the calm demeanor now evaporating in the face of this grim reality. "Do…do you even realize…what Vakarian has done..?!"

"What?"

He pointed a finger over toward the splayed figure that was the general's lifeless body. "Do you know who he is?!"

Despite the incredible pain in her throat, Marcella growled, low and guttural and full of loathing, "...The guy who tried to murder us?"

"That's - h-he's a…The P-pride of …!" Fedorian was practically hysterical "his career is - is fucking over you realize that, right?"

"What? Because he was attacked?"

"He - he pulled a gun on a general - his superior officer-"

Marcella couldn't believe what she was hearing. "He was going to kill me and then he was gonna kill him!"

"Well, now which one is dead?!"

"Are you serious? It was self-defense."

Fedorian turned back toward Castis's limp form and squared his shoulders, his large fists resting on his thighs. "...You're right. He might not be court-martialed but…but…" his voice grew thick, his mandibles drooped, "...you don't kill a Hierarchy general and expect to still have any kind of…of…"

His words started to wash over her, mindless noise but their meaning was still devastatingly clear. Again, her breath started to come hard and fast. Her heart hammered in her chest. "...No, no, they wouldn't do that. He - he's worked too hard–"

"This will follow him for the rest of his life." Fedorian's voice rose in intensity but was still unnervingly quiet. "It's the first thing anyone will ever see. Forget his scores, forget his experience–"

But…

"-forget anything else. He'll just be the man who killed Andin Faldos."

Marcella started to shake again, a fresh new horror dawning on her. Despite her desperate gasps, she felt like she couldn't breathe.

He was gonna write laws.

Fedorian just shook his head. "And now it's over."

He was gonna help people.

"You don't…know that…" she croaked helplessly.

Fedorian was now cradling his head in a large hand. His shoulders slumped. A low mournful hum filled the air around him.

Marcella just knelt, numb, motionless. She squeezed her eyes shut. The sounds of Fedorian huffing and keening seemed to fade away around her. All she saw was Cas's face. His silly self-imposed rules, his strict adherence to even the most ridiculous of laws. The look on his face when he talked about his hopes, his dreams. The values he wanted to uphold. The people he wanted to help.

'I'm gonna build you a garden '

Somewhere far away came Fedorian's voice: "There. We need to get him back. Then, when we tell high command what he's done–"

"No." That was it. Her mind was made up. "That's not what happened."

"What?"

"I said," she slowly turned and looked at him pointedly, "that's not what happened."

It took a moment, but Fedorian's eyes widened in sudden understanding.