"...are you sure this is a good idea, Ma'am?" Posa hesitantly queried.

"Are you questioning my medical expertise, Posa?"

"No, Ma'am!" She quickly checked herself. "Not my intention at all…"

"You hesitate. Why?" Sula pressed her. "You clearly disagree with me. Explain."

"Nnn…" The junior medic hesitated, being pressured to elaborate further on-the-spot. "...I think she needs to stay induced. A-at least until her bones are fully mended!"

Zutel came into the room, woken from her slumber after hearing some yelling and sliding a shirt on. "Not like she can go anywhere, Posa."

"Thats-...that's not the point, Ma'am."

"What is the point, Posa? I'm trying to get a medical assessment out of you, not an explanation of your objection."

"Right, sorry…umm-"

The infirmary doors whisked open, Vult arriving as prompted, hurriedly to Rem's bed with the medical team surrounding her.

"Oh, thank Irk," The Private mentally managed, relieved at the intrusion taking the focus away from her.

"Received your missive, Sula. What's the situation?"

"...I made a judgment call, Sir." She began earnestly. "...her abnormal brain activity is giving me concerns and I want to address them post-haste. I made the decision to walk back her sedatives and begin bringing her out of the induced coma."

Rha wheeled into the room, unaware of what was going on. He was just coming to grab something from the medics but looked at the scene. "...S-should I go?"

"No. You stay." The Commander took full advantage of his presence. "I need to speak to you about something critically important. Standby."

Vult processed his Medical Officer's words, mulling over his response.

"...at the risk of stating the obvious, Sula…will her pain be managed still? She is clearly not fully healed."

"She will still be medicated and pain managed, Commander. There may be some confusion or grogginess once she regains consciousness. Maybe not immediately, but she will be capable of speaking…assuming her mental state isn't altered any."

"Waking her up will confirm as much?"

"Yes, Sir. Our scans have been inconclusive. Either she will wake up as the Rem we know…or a vegetable."

"A…vegetable, Sula?" The Commander's brow furrowed in confusion at her lexicon.

"Right, uh…" The senior medic thought of how to explain more clearly. "...the body is alive, but the brain is dead. Lights are on, no one is home."

"Can't move, speak, eat…basically only respiration without any sort of assistance." Zutel mentioned the grim reality of that outcome.

"BUT!" Posa interjected at all their doom and gloom with a raised finger. "She is off of the ventilator and we took the feeding tube out. She is breathing on her own. So we know, for certain, that part of her brain is still working right."

Rha seemed sullen, "I'd hate to end up like that." There was a pause from him. "If there's ever a situation where I'd end up like that, just put a bullet in me."

Vult watched Rem closely as his medical staff gave him the condensed, layman's version of her condition. This was an improvement…mostly. She was breathing unassisted, chest rising and falling evenly. Vitals stable as could be. Were it not for her mending arm, missing eyes, and healing surgical scars, she appeared peacefully asleep.

"Assuming she is intact mentally…" He began, looking to Sula from his studious gaze. "...will she be fit for duty ever again?"

Sula did not immediately answer. The million credit question that everyone asked and no one had a simple answer for. Her goldenrod eyes drifted between their one-eyed protege and the veteran surgeon.

"...Sir…if she is blind, she can't fly again. Until her wounds mend to a better degree, I cannot determine if her optic nerves will take any replacements."

"I'm optimistic but our current inability to fully diagnose those nerves are what's stopping us from making a solid determination." Zutel added in.

"The Empire doesn't exactly have the best medical equipment at its disposal, Commander." Sula dejectedly spoke. "If it can't be stuffed back in and stapled shut, they don't care if the patient lives or dies. We're working with what we have and making due."

"Might be worth bargaining for some better stuff from the Vortians." Posa shrugged, blinking in realization that Rha was in the room with them. She could almost feel the combined glares of her superiors and the Commander boring holes into the back of her skull.

"...Why don't we just go steal the stuff from Vort?" Rha chimed in. "I mean, not all the hospitals on Vort were destroyed, right? Maybe we can ransack one of the hospitals there before the occupation forces trash the place…if they…haven't…done it…already…nevermind…"

With the motor off, Rha wheeled his chair over to them. "This bargaining maybe have something to do with why the Vortians have free range of the ship now? I like Jur but I thought he was supposed to be a prisoner."

"Sir, permission to beat some sense into Posa?" Sula ground her teeth.

"I'm sorry, it slipped! I-"

"Shut….up…"

Zutel was already rolling up a bundle of charts behind Posa, also infuriated with her being a blabbermouth at a moment like this.

Rha looked right at the team's leader, "Vult, you want to tell me what's going on here or do I need to assume Tuu was telling me the truth back on Haven?"

The Commander mentally switched gears. Just as he was about to chastise Posa's lack of due diligence and being aware of the current company, the legless Demolitions Expert pointedly sought an explanation. Not exactly the circumstances he had hoped for, but now was as good a time as any. He turned to face Rha, standing at-ease before him, hands clasped behind his back.

"...what truth would that be, Sergeant?"

"He said all of you were defective," Rha started, thinking back to what was said prior to his capture. "You, the Captain, Volx, all-"

"Am not!" Posa defensively chided, only to earn a sharp whack to the back of her head from Zutel.

"Shut the fuck up!" Rha pointed right at her, glaring. "I may have no legs but I'll rip out your fucking throat if you don't shut up."

"Ignore her. This is between you and me, Rha." Vult redirected him, remaining cordial. "Continue."

Rha calmed himself as he looked back at Vult. "He was saying that all of you were defective. Save for him, Rem, and myself. That you were all defective, maybe even guilty of treason. I thought that was stupid. We were all still doing our job for the Empire. You all had your physical changes sure but you were all still loyal." He paused to take a breath, "What happened after I helped in that prison break and ready to shoot him dead myself caused me to disregard him as a lunatic…but with what Posa said, was he really?"

Rather than continue to appear to speak down to him given his impairment, Vult opted to take a knee and get eye-level with his subordinate out of courtesy and respect. However subtle, a sign to show him he wasn't above them and stood with them, every step of the way.

"...Tuu's claims of us being defective are true, Rha. I was deemed defective the day I lost my arm and antenna to Tak. Aero was deemed defective after having her hormone inhibitor damaged in that same encounter. Hesa, much of the same on top of being disconnected from the Control Brains and clearly walking among us still…but yet we continued to serve. Continued our duty on what I believed to be borrowed time. Allow me to ask you this before I proceed further…do you believe yourself to be defective?"

"Of course I am." Rha shook his head. "Look at me. You guys are the only ones who would've pulled me out of that shitshow and gave me this chair and promised me prosthetics. Any other unit I was with either would have shot me themselves or handed me over to IIA to do it. Send me back into the system."

"Right…but look past that," He coaxed, leading his train of thought in a different direction. "...the Control Brains are well aware of your current state of affairs by now, or at least they should be…but you're still here with us. Why is that?"

Rha thought it over for a few moments. Of course they are. They would've already pushed his off button. Rem's too. All that work in the shuttle would've been for naught. They should both be dead and yet… There it was, realization of what was probably going on. "...Either you guys are jamming the control brains somehow or there's something more at play here, isn't it?"

Vult couldn't help but smirk amusingly at Rha's gears turning rapidly in his head. Sharp and inquisitive, as one should be. A sign he wasn't a mere soldier and had the capacity for deeper thought.

"Both of those hypotheses are accurate. We are not actively doing anything…but let's say that we have a…fan of our work who is well-connected and able to ensure the Control Brains are minimally aware of the going-ons of this team."

He paused, debating on proceeding further down the rabbit hole briefly. Honesty was the best policy, after all.

"...I allowed Doctor Zharic to use his research at Sub Zero Station on the rest of us, as he did Hesa, Rha…with the exception of you, Rem, and our recent additions now…we are masters of our own fate and slaves to no one. The others made that choice of their own volition. I didn't make them. The same is offered to you."

"Wait, wait," Rha blinked. That was certainly appealing sounding but there was still the issue of what went down before. "First, we got Vortians having free reign of the ship. Second…Zok saved my life back on Vort multiple times and that Ohnmatu team helped us out back there. Why? Why would Vortians help us? Especially those guys? What's going on?"

All fair, valid questions.

"I hadn't intended for the Vortians to be given free reign on the ship, but I was left with little option after Tallum. The team was on the verge of imploding with Volx's death and our grievous casualties taken. Corr was not in any capacity to lead, Kazak had become unreliable and a liability in terms of leadership. I acted in desperation to keep up appearances."

"And the Ohnmatu stuff? Zok saving my life?" Rha pursued.

"It began as a mutual hatred for SIS. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend". Ironically enough, the majority of the VDF and Navy despise SIS with a burning passion because of the stunts they pull, just like the one they tried to pull in Tallum. Ohnmatu could not act to stop them without being openly charged and killed as traitors…but the Empire was conveniently nearby and with accurate intelligence of who, where, when, and how to stop them handed to them, we saw the result. Nobody was consumed by radioactive fire. In exchange for that vital intelligence, I gave them a copy of our subterranean surface scans, providing sewer mapping to evacuate as many people out of the city before the barrier fell and the Empire pressed the assault."

He paused, allowing all of that to sink in.

"By all definitions and accounts, Rha, I am a traitor."

"...Yeah. No shit." Rha took a breath. "So, what, are we suddenly working with the Vortians because you're working for the Vortians now? …Come to think of it. I haven't seen the good Doctor since we were on Haven."

"After you departed for Haven, Kazak, Vard, and myself escorted Doctor Zharic to a set of coordinates provided to us embedded in encrypted data given to myself during the Irk operation of locating and eliminating the leader of the resistance movement openly speaking out against the Empire and Tallest. Those coordinates, intentionally placed and hidden for us to find as a test of competency, brought us to a hidden research station belonging to the Vortians far off known star charts. The one that provided those coordinates had been in contact with the station prior to even reaching out to me, Rha."

"...You say Kazak is unreliable and a liability but with what it's sounding like, he hates the Empire and wants to fight it now but you want to maintain cover. But what's the end goal? I mean, we're not joining the Vortian Federation. It doesn't sound like we are."

"Commander-" Sula attempted to intervene before he snapped his natural digits and pointed at her without a glance spared. Very much a non-verbal "be quiet"

"One of the chief reasons why I pulled him off Red Team. He is capable, but clearly works better alone. He cracked under the stress of leadership in combat and is convinced he will get everyone around him killed. I cannot and absolutely will not allow him to command anyone with that mentality." Vult made clear. "...the end goal, I am still figuring that one out. There are plenty of forgone conclusions, but anything can happen. This…began as my attempts to protect all of you. Protect you from the vulnerability of the Control Brains and the PAK system. To be unfairly and unjustly sentenced and condemned for variables outside of your control. We all saw it before as Elites…and I refused to do the same once the authority was granted to me to proceed accordingly."

Vult paused, mulling over his choice of words carefully.

"...I saw an opportunity at Sub Zero Station to further my goals of keeping all of you safe. Turb's research and Hesa living proof of its success was too great to pass up and the risk was necessary to countermand my orders. Whatever doubts I held about its validity were made concrete after it was made known to me that myself and Aero should have been dead already had it not been for our…guardian's intervention. Turb's research removed the Control Brain's authority over our fate. I have since discreetly approached the team since then about doing the same."

"...is that why you got rid of Tuu?" The legless Sergeant sought a definitive answer, his mind swirling from all of this.

"Tuu left me with no choice, Rha. He had went to General Vaukt, telling him we were all defective and in dereliction of our duty. His choice to follow protocol transcended mere loyalty. It was fanaticism. Extremism cannot be negotiated with or convinced otherwise. We, those of us that had been free of the system at that point, held a vote. A unanimous decision to have him transferred because not a single one of us wanted to consider the alternative of tying up a loose end that we had grown so close to. It was the best outcome for all of us. Tuu believed he was rewarded for following protocol and we weren't forced to kill him."

"...Don't want to come off like an ass saying this, but you really should've killed that bastard." Rha laid his own opinion on the matter. Whatever was going on, it was sure to bite them in the ass later, he had that gut feeling about it.

"I couldn't bring myself to f and that is my fault and weakness," Vult admitted to his subordinate. "I cared for him as much as I cared for the rest of you, even if his opinions were differing. It was morbidly discussed and agreed none of us could bring ourselves to pull that trigger and live with the consequences. It is one thing when it is a complete stranger…another entirely when you know them."

"I almost shot him dead on Haven when he wanted to gun down complete strangers. Strangers I just helped break out and taught to fight." Rha huffed, "If this comes back to bite us, I'll shoot him myself. Fucking prick."

He paused to think about what Vult had said up to this point. "Something's still weird about all of this. We're doing this disconnecting stuff, we're working with the Vortians. We have this fan on Judgmentia. What's this all…" something else clicked for him. "Are we changing the Empire?"

"Change is preferable to death, is it not?" Vult cryptically asked of him.

"...Yeah it is. You honestly don't even need to ask me now. Unhook me. I don't want to die for people who'd knock me off just because I lost my legs in the line of duty."

"I despise the circumstances it took and wish I could have openly approached you sooner, but your decision brings me great relief. I had to exercise caution and not risk everyone else unnecessarily if avoidable." The Commander did his best to smooth things over, clasping Rha's shoulder with small shake. "I'll let Aero and Vard know. It's a short, painless procedure. Mostly manipulating your PAK programming and the signal it sends out."

"Thanks." He nodded to Vult. "I don't like being left in the dark. If there's anyone that I'd be more than happy to take a plasma blast for, it's you and the others still left around here."

Zutel, meanwhile, kept her eye on Rem, drinking some Vortian tea to wake her up since she was bound to be up for the duration until she can resume her block of sleep. Evidence of stirring. "Guys, she seems like she's coming out of it now."

Thankful he didn't have another crisis on his hands in the form of Rha, attention was returned to the incapacitated pilot. Her heart rate picked up, as did her breathing. A sign the sedatives were wearing off. Rem's bandaged head and covered sockets moved about, reacting to the slightest noises in the room. Uncoordinated and sluggish, but movement nonetheless.

Subconsciously, her body sought to get out of bed as she attempted to…sit up.

"Ah, ah, no, not yet." Sula quickly intervened, grasping her shoulders and laying her back. "...Rem, can you hear me?"

A…groan of discomfort and attempted speech followed. A reaction!

"Oh my Irk," Several weeks of stress melted away from Sula's body as she grinned wide. "...reactions are good. Means things are working correctly in her brain…so far."

"Why'd she try to get out of bed?" Vult earnestly questioned, watching as Sula pressed her back once more.

"Subconscious movement. She's been laying there so long it's to alleviate the discomfort of atrophy in her body. Nothing physical therapy can't fix…Rem? Can you hear me?"

"Nnnnnn…S..'la..?" A weak, hoarse voice cracked through just barely.

"Yeah, Sula. Do you know where you are?"

"Vvvvort…?" Her expression visibly scrunched up in confusion and uncertainty beneath her wrapped bandages with a grit of her teeth. "...T'lm."

Even if she was off-base and completely wrong, Sula struggled to not get emotional as her eyes shimmered. Rem remembered where they had been and where they were, even saying her name. All excellent signs of progress.

Zutel seemed visibly relieved at Rem's responses. The work the three of them had put in clearly wasn't wasted. "Oh thank Irk; it's good to hear your voice again, Rem."

She didn't immediately answer again. Rather, her attention focused on the layers of consciousness she ascended from the deepest depths of months of a medically-induced coma. She heard Sula…Zutel? Was the Commander there as well? A lot of beeps and boops…the infirmary? Why was she in the infirmary.

"Rem, you with us still?" Vult queried, coming in more clearly.

"Yessssir…" She slurred on, involuntarily attempting to raise her mending arm in a salute and immediately regretting it. "Fffffffff…hah…whatswrong…my arm?"

"You've…been through a lot. May be best if I leave it to the professionals," The Commander responded, looking to the trio of medics.

"Your flying saved our asses," Rha said. "All of Purple team owes you a malt liquor."

Owed her? For what? Something happened…but what…

"Rem?" Posa hesitantly spoke.

"P'sa..?"

"Yeah, P'sa," She made light of it with a snicker. "Do you know where you are?"

"Tal'm. Vort."

"No. You are on the ship. In the infirmary." She corrected, speaking clearly and enunciating.

"Thesssssship? Wha…?"

Why was she on the ship in the infirmary? What had happened? Rha said everyone on Purple Team owed her…Posa told her she wasn't on Vort or at Tallum anymore-

It clicked.

Insertion. Enemy AA fire. Direct hit from a MANPAD. Crash landing. Darkness.

Her monitors spiked with a shot of adrenaline.

"...not…dead…?"

"Nope! Sula saved the day!" Posa grinned. "Ran a freakin' marathon, puked her spooch up, and spent hours patching you up under a hailstorm of fire and nonstop bombardment. I…was also there. And Zutel…we helped."

"Feel…likedeath."

"Rem?" Sula spoke, earning her a roll of the Navigator's head toward its source.

"Hmmm?"

"How lucid are you?"

"Means…'wake…right?"

"Awake and aware, yes."

"...'nuff. Tired…hurt." She weakly admitted.

"You've…been through a lot…if my math is correct, this is the first time you've been conscious in almost two months."

"Almost," Zutel added in, "Really are glad to have you back in the land of the living, Rem, but it's still a long road to recovery."

"Well we all want our favorite pilot back soon, right?" Rha asked the medics and the Commander.

Having learned her lesson attempting to salute, her other hand came up slowly to awkwardly wave in front of her face with a complete lack of coordination before falling to the bed. A moment passed before it rose, hand falling to her face, feeling around. Her fingertips brushed against…gauze. Forefinger and thumb gripped, attempting to lift the wrapping. Sula's hands quickly intercepted to pull her hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah, Don't do that."

"Why…can't I…see?"

May as well rip the proverbial band aid off now and deal with the aftermath. The Medical Officer steeled herself with a deep, shaky intake of breath.

"There is no easy way to put this, Rem…but your ocular implants…are gone."

"Gone? Where?"

"Do you remember what happened?"

"...'member…AA. Lot's of AA…explosion…blast shield…darkness."

"The force of the impact when the shuttle came to a stop ripped the implants out of your skull. None of us saw them anywhere and frankly, I was more concerned with saving your life."

"That's…fine. 'Newones…anyway."

Sula bit her lip.

"...about that…Zutel, little help?"

"Rem, the amount of force from that impact wounded all of us in some form. Those of us who didn't fall out." Zutel began, "Your legs were crushed beneath the knee, your right arm mangled against the controls. And…your implants pulled your eyes along with them. We're still trying to see if your optic nerves will take a new set of eyes."

That demoralizing news served to shake a few more layers of grogginess off.

"...'have no eyes?"

"No. No eyes," Sula regretfully informed. "...and like Zutel said, we don't know if we can implant new ones yet or not."

"...blind?"

"Don't…jump to conclusions just yet. You have a long way to go in recovery still. I'm relieved you're still here and mentally intact. One of the worst concussions I have ever seen and lesser ones have killed people."

"...no legs?"

"Like Zutel said…the impact crushed the control panel and front of the shuttle into your legs. You were pinned…and in order to extract you I had to perform a double amputation just above the knee."

Rem did not immediately answer as she processed all of this. No eyes. No legs. No sight. No movement…or pedal control. Her mangled, reconstructed right arm was the least of her concerns.

"Rem?" Sula pursued after a bout of uncomfortable silence.

"...'m I the…shortest one now?"

Posa failed to hold back a laugh. Even after all the terrible trauma she suffered, the awful news delivered…she found a sense of humor. Her escaped snicker earned her an unkind whack to the head by the rolled-up charts in Zutel's hand.

"Ow! C'mon, that was funny! She's takin' it in stride."

"Nah," Rha tried to lighten the mood. "I think you're competing with me, Rem. My legs got blown off by a grenade."

Rem huffed weakly in amusement.

"Sssucks…t'beus, huh?" She spoke, breathing deeper with a wince. "...tired."

"We'll let you rest. Expect to be woken up a lot but we'll keep it to a minimum."

"'Ppreciate it…"

Zutel smiled, "You know, Commander, it may be another few days before she comes back fully but if she's this solid now, she should be able to have conversations soon."

Relieved Rem was as intact as she was going to be after such a harrowing ordeal, Vult nodded at Zutel's assessment.

"Keep me posted on her condition. I need to have a talk with her, ASAP." He reminded, looking to Sula. "and I need you to message Aero and Vard to come take care of Rha. Sooner the better."

"Will do, Sir."

"Hell, tell 'em I'll meet 'em in the hangar. I got wheels. Really is good to hear Rem's voice again." Rha turned his chair and started propelling himself towards the door to head out.

Zutel also let out a sigh of relief. "Finally, I no longer have to sleep in my clothes in the supply closet."

"Finally, I can sleep in my own bed again." Sula seemed equally relieved.

"Posa," Zutel started but paused to yawn, "get that fucking cot out of here."

"Right away," Posa started to move but stopped short. "Um…where to, exactly?"

"Find a spot for it in storage, send it to the trash compactor, torch it, I don't think either of us care, just get it out of the closet."

"Torching it sounds good," Sula added. "I never want to see it again."

"Will do!" Posa seemed more than eager as she took the cot and dragged it out of the infirmary and bought it out onto the dock. She retreated to the hangar briefly to retrieve a can of flammable liquid and doused the cot. She then lit a match and tossed it onto it and watched the ensuing conflagration. A couple of dock workers nearby just watched the event transpire with absolute confusion. That was until Aero yelled at them to get back to work.