Here's another chap, enjoy. I have writers block, so don't expect super frequent updates, sorry.

RECAP:
- The bounty hunters and pirates have enlisted the help of assassin Vash Zwingli in getting their friends back. They are currently in Bibesti, Rela, planning how to get to Coysash territory on Nyma to free their captive friends.
- Information about the spy in the Resistance has been made public, and details include; they work at night, they wear an audio recorder easily covered by clothes, they have been with the resistance for more than 4 years, etc. Yao fears he is running out of time to expose them.

NAMES:
Zev Batbayaryn: Mongolia
Dana Milevski: Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia (FYROM)
Ismeta Disdarevic: Bosnia and Herzegovina
Cera Bannion: Ancient Celtic Empire

Also, I forgot to say this last chapter, but woooooooo! 100k words baby!

PLLLLEEAAASSEEE REVIEW! IT MOTIVATES ME, AND ACTS AS AN EFFECTIVE SURE FOR WRITER'S BLOCK

Szwicza District,
Bibesti, Rela,
12th Maarch

There was really no doubt to be had about Vash's brilliance. That, even Matthias could recognise. In only four days, Vash had created an outline of the path they would need to take through Nyma to get to Coysash territory, collected information needed for fake papers and files, and worked his way through every potential outcome, figuring out a course of action for each one. He was good. Very, very good. For the first time since their friends had been torn from them, Matthias had legitimate hopes that they would actually get them back.

However, the partnership they had formed with the sour assassin was hardly perfect. The blonde had assigned them a set of rules that were to be followed for the entirety of their collaboration together. Matthias had had to write them down in order to remember them all.

1. Any damage caused to Vash's belongings or residence was to be paid for in full by the perpetrator.

2. They were not to mention that they were currently working in tandem with him

3. Similarly, they were not to disclose the location of his home to any unsavoury figures or law enforcement

4. They were not allowed to discuss their plans or formulate new ideas outside of his home; all such decisions had to be agreed upon

5. No yelling was going to be tolerated in Vash's home

6. They were not allowed to associate with or involve themselves with Vash's neighbours

The last one in particular had struck Matthias as odd. Upon inquiring further into the matter, Vash's expression had darkened slightly, and he had simply responded. "They're young. I wouldn't want them near people like you." Matthias had been sorely tempted to mention that Vash, as an assassin, was worse than any pirate or bounty hunter, but had simply dropped the matter. Though not mentioned by Vash, there was one more rule which the thirteen of them followed without question or complaint.

7. To insult Vash is to sign your own death warrant. Avoid it at all costs.

Nonetheless, following the rules, though sensible, was starting to annoy Matthias. Considering how much money they would be giving this guy to help them save their friends, one would think he could be a little more civil. The assassin had a penchant for (literally) throwing people outside if they annoyed him too much, or even if he got sick of seeing their face. For one of the most infamous and brutal killers in the Falloweil System, he sure could be very intolerant of certain things.

Matthias could tell he wasn't the only person becoming impatient with the assassin's behaviour. Vash was standoffish to a fault, and his tendency to control the conversation and demand certain things was wearing some of the others down. Arthur constantly began to curse him the moment they left the building, and Natalya was often not far behind. The rules they had to follow were annoying as well. If Vash threw them out, they could sometimes be stuck there for hours, unable to get back in, yet also apparently unable to ask any of Vash's neighbours for help.

Despite his many flaws, however, Vash was brilliant, and their plan to get to the rebels was quickly taking shape. He moved along planning with such speed that they had reached the point of refining their plan. The major details had already been worked out. Really, if Matthias didn't already know that Vash was an assassin, he might have guessed from his brutal efficiency.

Matthias stared at the map of Coysash territory that was spread across the table. Pencil marks, ink, pins and markers were all over the surface, indicating their path, as well as any potential difficulties they may encounter there. His eyes skimmed over some of the writing that hugged the shape of a mountain range. Home to vicious Vaaksi mountain tribes. Avoid interaction. He shuddered. Even though he knew little about Nyma compared to other places, he had heard enough of the Vaaksi tribes. Some were large, some were small. Some were cannibalistic, others worshipped death. All were horrifying, and to be evaded. Vash had glossed over those details a bit, but hopefully, they shouldn't need any details of them.

He looked up as he heard shouting. Wonderful. Arthur had managed to get into a fight with Francis. Again. Sighing as he recognised the now familiar look in Vash's eyes as he walked toward them, Matthias moved to open the door. Might as well ease the process.

Sadik scowled as he heard Vash's door open again, followed by a muffled shout and a great deal of cursing. These guests of the blonde's had been here for days, and were far more disruptive than he thought the man would tolerate. He had taken to throwing them out of his apartment whenever any of them did something he didn't like. To say the least, it was getting on Sadik's nerves.

He already disliked the blonde man. His intervention between him and Lovino, Sadik told himself that he appreciated. He didn't want to hurt Lovino, after all. But there was a part of him – a dark, bitter part which he shoved as far down inside as he could – that wished he hadn't. He knew it was wrong to wish such a thing, but he felt like he almost couldn't help it sometimes. But that wasn't even what frustrated him. The man had an air of superiority about him. Sadik knew he was a strong and capable assassin, and he worried about his motives.

In addition to that, Sadik hadn't failed to notice how much time Vash seemed to be spending with Lovino and Feliciano now. He would have worried only about his reasons for having such proximity with the brothers, had he not noted the way that Vash's eyes lingered on Lovino sometimes. Sadik had been wrong to get so drunk and then place himself in a situation with Lovino, but he could hardly believe Vash's hypocrisy. He had the sheer audacity to threaten Sadik for touching Lovino, yet looked at him in such a desire-ridden way? It made Sadik grind his teeth together.

True, the age difference between Vash and Lovino was much smaller than the one between Lovino and Sadik, but it still grated on his nerves. Sadik himself hadn't been able to see them recently, and the fact that Vash likely spent more time with them nowadays had really started to get to him. He shook his head. Dwelling on such things wouldn't help him in any way. he could hear an argument brewing outside, and rolled his eyes. Though he had counted as many as thirteen different people going to and from Vash's apartment, these voices were the most familiar. They belonged to two young men, whose voices almost always seemed to be at their highest possible volume. A great number of insults were thrown freely between the pair, and it often amused Sadik to listen to whatever curses they managed to come up with.

Today was no different, and he smirked as he bent towards the door to catch their conversation.

Resistance Headquarters,
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,
15th Maarch

Yao shakily drew a breath. Unbelievable, he thought, staring at the small audio recording system which sat before him. Octavia's expression was beyond infuriating, a victorious smirk directed both at Yao himself in addition to the Commander being restrained by guards in front of him. He felt like a severe blow had been dealt to his gut, and he turned his head away slightly, feeling nauseous.

"It's not mine! I swear it isn't! Someone planted it in my quarters!" Commander Dana Milevski struggled fiercely against the guards holding her arms. She looked at Yao desperately. "Please, Yao, you know I would never–"

"Be silent!" Octavia barked at her, expression now more serious. "How dare you presume to speak to our leader? After you have deceived him in such a way? Filthy traitor."

Dana reeled back as though she had been slapped, eyes wide and horrified. Normally, she was quite a well-put together young woman. She looked as she almost always did; dressed as she in a sleeveless blue shirt and dark pants. Her faintly olive skin dotted with a few freckles from days out in the sun, her dark brown eyes bloodshot from long hours, and her dark hair neatly clipped in it's short style. But her face was pale, her hair messed up from struggling against the guards holding her, her expression twisted in agony. So familiar, and yet, all of a sudden, so very foreign.

"I'm not a traitor! I swear, the only time I've seen a recorder like that is in the blueprints we were shown! It doesn't belong to me!" Octavia scoffed, shaking her head in something akin to disgust.

"Do not attempt to poison our minds any further. You have been caught red-handed. You should at least have the dignity and decency to admit to your crimes."

"But they aren't my crimes! I am loyal to this movement! I always have been!" Dana cried, tears running down her cheeks now. "You have to understand! I'm not guilty!" Octavia scowled.

"You shall accordingly be executed for your crimes, know this, traitor." She hissed. Dana staggered back like she had been physically shoved, face turning grey.

"No," she whispered, falling to her knees, "I can't, no, I, I didn't, please–"

"She will be afforded a trial first, Octavia." Yao murmured, breaking the silence which he had held since Dana had first been hauled inside and charged with espionage. "It is customary." Dana turned to him, face alight with hope. He stared back, expressionless. Her features crumpled, and she turned her face downwards, recognising the anger lightly etched into his expression.

But whether that anger was at Dana's alleged treachery, or in fact at Octavia's delight at finding the culprit was someone pledged in loyalty to Yao, he could not yet tell. A light tremor passed through his hands, and he folded his arms behind his back, surveying Dana and Octavia. As happy as catching Union rats made Octavia, it made her far happier to deal a blow to the confidence that people had in Yao and his leadership.

Dana Milevski. Iramese pilot, personal proclaimed rival of Heracles Karpusi and living bundle of wit. She had joined the resistance four years ago, when she was about 15 years old. She had lived in a small village called Byńsłoca. The Iramese people were a minority group on Nyma, far lighter-skinned that the Nymian majority. As such, they tended to be overlooked by major tribal groups. The long-lasting war between the Coysash and Mugarobe peoples had had a massive negative impact on the Iramese. Since a large number of them lived in the valleylands which lined the heavily disputed Katye's Plain, they had suffered heavy losses from all of the combat.

Byńsłoca was a particularly famous casualty. It had been the subject of an investigation after reports of human rights violations. The Nymian High Committee for Civil and Human Rights (the NHCCHR for those who appreciated acronyms) had travelled to the village to investigate what had been occurring there. All had seemed to be well at first. Death and injury from combat were expected, especially given the area and circumstances. The committee's delegation had received an anonymous tip off that many of the village's civilians had been placed inside the old city hall to protect them. So, deciding to follow the tip-off, the delegation travelled there.

What they ended up finding was 500 people chained to the ground, many of them dead from starvation or exhaustion. Most of the dead were in a fairly advanced state of decomposition. Reports of the delegation's findings stated that many of those still alive, chained and emaciated as they sat between piles of rotting flesh, were children. The delegation had also determined that there was no way that the Mugarobe people (until then the prime suspects) could have committed such a horrendous crime. After asking the victims for their reports on what happened, they discovered that the Mugarobe were in fact innocent.

The perpetrators? A group of Union soldiers who had gone AWOL. With their superior weaponry, they had forced the already decimated village into submission, robbing and raping until they were satisfied. They had imprisoned the remaining villagers in their own hall, and left them all for dead. The rebels, who had only really just completed settling into life on Nyma, had travelled to Byńsłoca to help the injured and dying villagers. Many of them, imbibed with a new and ferocious hatred of the Union, had joined their ranks as soon as they were physically fit again. Dana Milevski had been among them.

So, these allegations that she had been a spy for the Union all along? Yao privately thought they were ridiculous. He kept his expression neutral, bordering on apathetic when he ordered the guards to restrain Dana and take her to a holding cell to await a trial. He turned his face away as she was taken from the tent, and yanked the fabric openings shut when he spotted the large number of people gathered outside, murmuring in curiosity. Octavia seemed to be watching him closely, and he raised an eyebrow slightly, before he sat and began to flick through the stack of files which greeted him there.

"I expect for a committee to be put together to evaluate Milevski's case. Go over the evidence and see if a legitimate case can be brought against her for espionage and treason." He looked up when his statements were met with silence. Octavia was watching him again. "Is there a problem?"

Octavia smirked slightly. "Just…observing you." Yao smiled ruefully.

"I am flattered by the attention, Vice-General Papadopoulos, but it is a matter of importance." Even gazing at the files in his hands again, he could almost hear her eye-roll.

"You do not seem to be overly concerned about Milevski's potential as a spy." She said, voice soft and laced with danger. "I'd say you even look relieved." Sensing the challenge, Yao met her gaze again.

"I am relieved only that we may now have found our troublesome little spy. Ending their leak of information and protecting our soldiers is what matters to me." Octavia narrowed her eyes, before turning on her heel and stalking from the tent, pausing near the exit.

"We shall see in due course, won't we?"

Considering the waves of shock that Dana's imprisonment and supposed crimes sent throughout the rebellion that afternoon, Octavia was sincerely surprised that it took Ismeta so long. She was walking with Zev Batbayaryn at the time, discussing the newly decoded files on their spy, when Ismeta appeared on the horizon. The girl stormed directly up to her, fury etched into her face so deep that Octavia feared the girl's face would permanently appear that way. She threw her long, partially braided hair over her shoulder as she stalked toward the Vice-General, eyes burning with bloody murder.

"What the fuck?" she spat, sounding as livid as she looked. "You fucking arrested Dana? What the hell is wrong with all of you?" Octavia didn't react to her sharp words, nor the fury in her face. She surveyed the incensed teenager calmly, raising a hand to simply comb a lock of her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. Her lack of response seemed to anger Ismeta further, and she moved ever closer. "Answer me!"

"Miss Disdarevic," Octavia began dispassionately, "calm yourself down." She waited a moment, watching the girl as she tamed her rage with clear difficulty, schooling her expression into one of unsettled frustration as she took a step backwards. Octavia waited another moment before beginning to explain. "As high-ranked officials, we are responsible for making sure that this movement remains safe. We enjoy the rare liberty of being able to enforce our will in order to make that happen." She levelled an impressive stare at Ismeta. The girl was unable to hold eye contact, looking away after a moment.

"As I'm sure you are aware, we are currently making efforts to remove a suspected spy from our ranks. As part of this process, we are keeping our minds open to the possibility that this traitor may be anyone, of any status or ethnicity. Miss Milevski's arrest may be the first, but it will not necessarily be the last. It is entirely possible that she was, in fact, framed as she says, and is completely innocent. Or," here she paused for a moment, "it is possible that she is a skilled actress whom has been deceiving us for years. We must consider all possibilities."

"I know that," Ismeta muttered darkly, "but I swear it isn't Dana! She would never! We both hate the Union. And she's my friend, I trust her." Octavia shrugged.

"It was Yao who gave the order for her to be imprisoned, not me." She stated. "I did indicate, indeed, that should she be guilty, she would be subjected to immediate execution, but I did not command her imprisonment." Ismeta's eyes glittered, and she looked as though a flame of hope had been lit deep within.

"I'll just talk to Yao then!" she exclaimed. "He'll listen to me, I know he will." Octavia sighed.

"Yao is busy, Miss Disdarevic. I doubt he would be able to make the time. Besides," she sighed, "we have very differed opinions on how the matter of the leak should be addressed. I personally think my own proposed approach serves Miss Milevski better." Ismeta paused at this, happy expression slowly melting from her face.

"How so?"

"I proposed that only those of planets confirmed to have strong Union ties be investigated. Yao, being as he is, insisted that all soldiers be tested, no matter their heritage. Which means, of course…"

"That Dana wouldn't even have been investigated if your idea had been carried out." Ismeta finished, eyes now burning with something sharp that resembled bitterness. Octavia nodded.

"That is the sad truth of it. I do not believe that anyone who has suffered such cruel punishment at the hands of the Union as Dana has would ever take their side. Yao is more wary. He believes that anyone has the capacity to commit treason."

"But after Byńsłoca!" Ismeta exclaimed. Octavia cut her off with a sad nod.

"I agree, but Yao does not." She said, more gently this time. "Of course, I have an idea of why this is." Ismeta stared.

"Why?"

"Well, Yao himself is Yanish, as I'm sure you've noticed." Ismeta nodded, and Octavia didn't miss the brief, but definite flash of discomfort that crossed over her face. "Well Yan would be the first planet to be investigated. Others like Reycass and Xexei would follow. I'm sure that he would not feel comfortable being among the first to be investigated."

"But why would he be uncomfortable if he's completely innocent too?" Ismeta blurted out, expression tight with frustration again. Octavia pursed her lips.

"Ismeta, do you remember what sort of details were given about our apparent spy? Those collected from the information in the canister?" the girl frowned as she struggled to recollect it.

"That they must be wearing audio recorders on their bodies. Powerful ones, which can be worn underneath clothes. Uhh," she trailed off as she racked her brain for more details, "they will have been with the resistance for at least four years. Umm…" Ismeta snapped her fingers suddenly. "Oh! They have to be good with technology, since they apparently have a single frequency radio. And they send stolen information at night, apparently." She frowned at the end, brow relaxing when Octavia nodded.

"Can you think of anyone who fits that description? Who may also hold the power to access confidential files, and control how the vetting process works, potentially to buy themselves more time?" Ismeta looked bemused for a second, before her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Her hands flew to her lips, face whitening.

"You– you don't really– no, it can't, I won't–" Octavia waved her hands in a clear shut up motion.

"I was only posing a simple question." Octavia said. "Whatever conclusions you have drawn from that are your own, though," she paused, "I must say I have considered many possible theories of my own, and I guarantee the one which has just come to your mind would have been among them." Ismeta still looked like she was in a state of shock.

"But, I mean. Vice-General," she lowered her voice, "you cannot seriously think that—"

"I am prepared to keep my mind open to all possibilities." Octavia replied. "It does no good to let your mind linger on mere conspiracies." She was silent for a moment, considering the sun as it sunk lower beneath the horizon. "However, I will say this on the possibility. Six years ago, when the Resistance found itself without a leader, we did not select our new one as we usually did. Of course, most leaders leave behind some mention of who they personally recommend for the job, but Arshad Teymouri was no conformist to tradition. We selected our new leader through a popular vote." She paused again. "And let me say this, popularity is not fixed. It fluctuates, depending on circumstance, mood and situation. What may have been suitable, or considered to be suitable six years ago, may not apply the same way today." Ismeta was silent beside her.

"But, I mean, he's always seemed like such a good person. The mere possibility seems insane." Octavia met her eyes.

"Have doubt in everything, and you will be able to predict anything." She recited. Ismeta bowed her head slightly. Yao said it constantly. "From day one, his motto. Would doubting everything not include Yao himself?" Octavia gave Ismeta a soft smile. "Having doubts does not make you a traitor, it lends you intelligence and depth. I will not claim that what we have just discussed is the truth in any measure, but keep your mind open, Ismeta. Doubt everything, as our besieged leader likes to say. I promise, if Miss Milevski is found innocent, she will be released immediately." Ismeta nodded, still looking shellshocked. Saluting in farewell, Octavia parted with the girl, joining Zev as he gazed at her with interest.

"She's an intelligent young one, isn't she?" he murmured. "I was half-expecting her to connect the dots even more." Octavia raised an eyebrow even further.

"Oh? And what dots have you been connecting, Zev?" he tossed his dark hair back.

"I was considering that, if Dana Milevski is guilty, it only fuels suspicion against Yao even more. I mean, Milevski is very loyal to him, is she not? It would be only to easy to use her as a tool of sorts, or even as a scapegoat, to divert attention." Octavia paused. She had thought about it, but had not dared to vocalise her thoughts. They verged a lot more on mutinous than she was entirely comfortable with. But that was part of the reason why she liked Batbayaryn so much. His sharp mind helped to complement and enhance her own ideas. She tilted her head to the side, rather uncommittedly.

"That is…certainly a possibility, Zev."

Ah, distrust. The air hung thick with it that afternoon.

Arresting Dana Milevski seemed to have garnered a contingent of vexed young rebels. And a large amount of their anger seemed to be directed at him. He understood the sentiment, of course, he had ordered her to be detained after her alleged treachery was aired to the council. Yet Yao was not troubled by the simmering atmosphere of anger and righteous indignation which arisen on Dana's behalf.

Even Matthew, who normally did not question Yao's decisions, had approached him with the same question on his lips. Why would you arrest her? He had asked. We both know that she would never spy for the Union.

I am aware, Yao had replied, I'm not under any illusion which would convince me otherwise. Oh no, Dana Milevski is completely innocent. If all goes as hoped, she should be free within the next two weeks.

Matthew had frowned then. But why keep her in chains when you know the truth? He had asked. Yao remembered how he had tugged the cuffs of his gloves upwards then, gazing out into the middle distance.

It's a game of sorts. He had finally responded. We are fighting a war with this Union spy, and this is the latest battle between us. Right now, we need this spy to believe that this is a battle that they have won. What do you think people are going to do and think when I allow Dana Milevski be thrown into prison?

Matthew had looked stumped for a moment, before he had started to think. Well, he had said, they'll never believe Dana is actually the spy, for one. They might think that you aren't making any progress.

Yes, that's right, Yao had answered, the bright thinkers may dwell briefly on my inability to find the real spy, and may believe that I am reluctant to uncover their identity, or, in fact, be investigated myself. It is well known that I am Yanish, is it not? It is far more likely that I would be seen as an enemy by rebel fighters than anyone else.

When Matthew had tried to argue that point, a vaguely irritated expression on his face – no doubt annoyance at those colleagues of his who were uncomfortable around Yao for said reason, Yao had merely waved him off. I am used to such treatment, Matthew, do not concern yourself over it. But, tell me, what do you think those strategists among us will see Dana Milevski's imprisonment as?

Matthew had looked completely baffled for a moment. Yao remembered how he had smirked at him. Come now, Matthew, you have one of our best strategic minds, you know what they will think.

Well, Matthew had said slowly, since she is such a ridiculous person to charge with treason…it may lead some to believe that she is being used in a way. As a scapegoat of sorts, that is. If you don't find the real spy soon, people will become frustrated, both in part from genuine concern over information leaks, and Dana being done injustice. He paused, eyes widening. But if you hadn't had her imprisoned, it immediately would have enthused suspicion on the grounds that you weren't suspecting someone despite physical evidence. Since she has always been a loyal supporter of yours, some might interpret it as favouritism, though they're smart enough to know that you wouldn't tolerate espionage. Matthew had audibly gasped. Which means…

That either way, suspicion would have slowly been placed on me, Yao had finished for him. If I kept Dana imprisoned, she would be seen as a scapegoat whose case was being deliberately delayed. If I didn't have her arrested, I would be appearing to disregard potential evidence, unless, of course, I had a part in said espionage, and was keeping Dana under the radar to keep information of such restricted, and therefore, less accessible and less well-known.

Matthew had been silent for a long while, looking like he was struggling to take it all in. But that, that's just…

That is a tactic drawn from the mind of a strategist who is just as, if not more, skilled than yourself. Yao had said. It means that this spy isn't just selling off information, they're actively trying to sow dissent and distrust. Their aim isn't just disadvantage. It's complete downfall.

Scary to think about, Matthew had said, chuckling weakly. Yao had simply nodded, and the two had parted ways not long after.

It was beyond scary. It was terrifying. The only thing which Yao's afternoon musings had served to accomplish was cutting down his suspect list enormously. Anyone who had intelligence of that calibre, well, there were many rebels who did not possess it, to put it more kindly. He was quickly gathering a more detailed profile of what sort of person this spy was. He could only hope that it ended up leading in an actual arrest.

Yao sighed, leaning back as he rinsed his hair again. Washing himself was always complicated, as he did not use the showering blocks. He tended to do so in a more medieval way, using water and washers in his own tent. His hair was often a difficult part of the process. Being as long as it was (reaching the bottom of his ribcage when out) it was always difficult to wash, especially when not in a normal shower. At least here, in his tent, he could wear as few clothes as possible, so as to not get too many of them drenched. He didn't need his gloves, which made washing his hair a little easier. He normally filled a deep basin with water and washed it while leaning back, like hairdressers used to do in Beizaning.

Combing it out and unknotting several tangles, Yao took up a pair of scissors. He knew that cutting his own hair was inadvisable, but considering the travesty which had been made of his hands and body on the Arbiter, he didn't particularly care how straight the tips of his hair were. He cut it a little longer than he wanted it, and then just easily evened off the edge as much as he cared to do. Nodding with satisfaction at his reflection in the small, age-spotted mirror he had leaning on a table leg, he cleaned loose hair off himself, and rinsed his head again before drying it ruthlessly with a towel. Then came the delightful task of scouring the floor for all last pieces of hair to throw away.

Finally done with his task, Yao sunk back down to sit on the floor, resting his head on the edge of his bed and closing his eyes briefly. Worry after worry swam through his mind. He could feel his breathing speeding up, and his muscles locking together, even as he desperately tried to calm himself down. A crushing weight seemed to descend upon his lungs, as he allowed the feeling of soul-razing terror and dread coat his skin and caress his thoughts. Nausea stirred his stomach into a vicious ocean storm as he forced his eyes open again. His gaze shifted around the room, settling finally on a light from his Cell, slowly flashing. He focused on it, pinned all of his energy and attention on the small light as he waited for the panic attack to subside.

When he finally found himself able to breathe normally again, he sighed, running his hand through his shorter hair, shuddering. It had been a while since he had allowed himself to get so overwhelmed by his emotions. He pressed his hands to his face, struggling to drag his thoughts into a more positive light. He should be out, doing nightly duties and helping the other rebels.

But he couldn't bring himself to move, despite knowing that he should be doing his job.

And Lukas, who had been frozen outside the tent since he'd first felt the avalanche of panic from the other man, didn't go inside, despite knowing that he should be trying to act as a comforter. Instead, he withdrew silently, retreating as he tried to quell the sense of impending doom which seemed to now follow his very footsteps.