A/N: Severely unedited, severely broken, severely out of practice… but I wrote you a thing.
Takes place during Gears 1, Act 2, Chapter 2.

Diamond

They had been at each other's throats most of the day. Baird considered all the things the army had put on him and decided that collaborating with Delta squad was the worst thing Command had ever done. When he first met Delta, he thought Marcus would be his biggest issue—oh no, it was Marcus's puppy, Dom and his stupid optimism. God, Baird wanted to strangle him every time he opened his mouth.

Optimism was a bunch of bull. Baird knew it was a waste of time lying to himself—life sucked, he sucked, his squad sucked, and he dealt with it. He didn't split hairs.

But Dom—holy crap, how much did he hate himself to stay wrapped up in lies?

"Look, Marcus, I told you. I know a guy who can help and the camp isn't far from here," Dom was saying. It was starting to get dark and Baird was more concerned with bunkering down for the night than eavesdropping. But then he heard mention of the camp and tuned in. "He owes me a favor and he's good for it."

Marcus looked like he was considering it. Baird nearly cut in before he realized, he had no idea what was going on. They still had the resonator, it was dusk, and they had no way to get to the Lethia mining facility tonight. If someone had a lead that would make the trip easier, great—if that lead included a Stranded camp, fuck that. He'd walk.

"Alright, Dom. Lead the way," Marcus replied.

"Hey, we're not talking about a Stranded camp, right?" Baird asked. "Because I don't know if you haven't noticed, but kryll are gonna be in the sky soon and I'd rather take my chances with them than Stranded."

"Dom knows what he's doing, Baird. Don't worry about it and just guard the resonator."

Baird's jaw clenched. Cole slapped his hand on his shoulder and Baird shrugged him off. Typical jackass gets a field promotion and we're supposed to just go with it. I'm turning in my two weeks after this.

The city was deserted. Any signs of life from Stranded or whatever poor animals were still alive in this hellhole had disappeared with the dying sun. It set Baird's teeth on edge. He hated unnatural stillness. When he started to fall back from Marcus and Dom, Cole took that as a sign he had something to say. The squad had quickly been defined by two groups, and that suited Baird just fine. He didn't want anything to do with a criminal and his accomplice.

"You hear that?" Cole asked.

"What, did you let one rip or something? There's nothing to hear—that's what I don't like. Remember the last time this happened? We were nearly killed."

"You think we're walking into an ambush?"

"Maybe not. Maybe it's just the time. But what's up with those meatheads? Don't we have a say in this mission? I'm the one lugging the damn resonator."

"Aw, are your precious baby feet aching already?" Cole teased. "Come on, man, we got a job to do. And Hoffman put Marcus in charge. He can't be that bad."

"A Stranded camp?"

"We can always use a little outside help. They're human, too. They know how to find things we've long forgotten about."

"Maybe they should find some showers," Baird mumbled.

Cole laughed and drew the attention of Marcus and Dom. "Baby, you ain't got room to talk. Whew! I'm suffocating over here!"

Baird shoved his shoulder, annoyed for reasons he didn't understand. He just hated that the other half of Delta being involved. Ever since they showed up, Marcus had run the show without question. It was starting to piss him off. "Shut up, man."

"Hey, you feelin' alright? You don't normally rattle that easy."

"Whatever." And that closed the discussion. The sky was getting darker, he was following two idiots into his doom—why did he always get the crappy jobs?

"Eyes sharp, Delta," Marcus said. "This used to be a hotspot for Locust activity."

"What area isn't, Sergeant?" Baird snapped. "Care to give us a tour?"

Marcus replied with a glare and Baird sneered. The tough guy act was really starting to piss him off, but he held his tongue. If they were walking into an ambush, he wanted to concentrate on sights and sounds.

"How far until we reach this camp?" Cole asked.

"Four blocks," Dom replied.

"Shit. That's a lot of room for things to get ugly."

—

When they reached the camp, Baird was bloodied and exhausted, and kryll were just starting to escape from buildings. Ambush didn't describe their ordeal—they fought through four blocks of grub controlled territory. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but even with the squad divided in half, they fought together like they were the original Delta Squad. There was even a span of time when Baird was stuck covering Dom, but hey, he made it out alive. Maybe Baird wasn't the complete bastard he'd always tried to be. Nah, he thought with a grin. Cole's just rubbing off on me—'help the nice man, Damon; say thank you, Damon; eat your vegetables, Damon.'

The camp was a shanty town under the Ephyran freeway. Made from sheet metal, wood, and mounted troikas, Baird could admit they set up an impressive defense—if their front gate didn't burn first.

The scout on the wall let them in without struggle. It didn't escape Baird's notice how Dom was chummy with the man, asking about someone named Franklin. Baird's stomach shriveled with distaste. Not only was the man blindly optimistic and a criminal's accomplice, he was a Stranded sympathizer.

They can't be trusted, man. They'll feed you to the sharks first chance they get.

As they passed through the gate, there was a flurry of motion. Bodies disappearing into houses, guns coming into view. Jeers were shouted and Baird happily returned them until Cole jogged his elbow. Dom and Marcus didn't flinch at the abuse, but there was a new stiffness in Marcus's gait that Baird recognized as hyperawareness. He wasn't the only one trying to keep an eye on everyone.

Baird had never been in a Stranded outpost. Sure, he'd driven by them, he'd stopped at gates to offer Prescott's amnesty, and he'd even condemned some with army property. He'd never imagined the inside of an outside; he didn't care. But he was kind of impressed with this fortress.

It was snug between the tall buildings of 8th and Oldston Street and directly beneath the freeway; they were covered on all sides. They had rigged generators and lights, and judging by the smell, they still had indoor plumbing. If nothing else, he could appreciate that. Hell, he was dreaming of the day he didn't have to take a leak on a tree or in a hole. Active duty sucked.

Dom led the group up to a man with dreadlocks who had two armed goons with him. He must have heard the thud of COG regulation boots because he turned with a laugh.

"Hey, Santiago! What'chu you doin' here?" he asked, stepping off the sidewalk and meeting Dom. "No news on the lady, man; I'd tell you if I heard anything." In an undertone, he got in Dom's face and continued, "I don't want people seeing me with you, alright? It's not good for business, man."

Dom didn't seem to hear him. In fact, he looked pissed. It was the first time Baird had ever seen him angry. He wasn't impressed.

"Gimme that junker of yours, Franklin."

Franklin stepped back. "Say what? Get real, man."

"I'm serious. We need it."

"Sorry to hear ya'll having problems, man, but I'm not giving you my ride, yo. You're military."

Dom prodded Franklin's chest. "You owe me one. I'm calling in the favor. Right now."

The men at Franklin's back came closer, guns drawn. Apparently they didn't like King Parasite hassled. Baird already felt they were knee-deep, and rising, in the shit; with the tension between both parties now, he knew he was right. But before Baird could fire, Marcus stepped up behind Dom. It was a small motion, subtle, but spoke volumes in intimidation. Franklin called off his goons and the moment passed.

"Alright, alright, man. I'll do it. Yo, on one condition." He eyed Baird and Cole, and suddenly Baird knew he underestimated the man. There was a cunning in his eyes no normal parasite had. This was a dog-eat-dog world; no one became top dog without a little brains. Should've seen that one coming. "Your pals stay here as collateral. We could use the extra guns."

Dom didn't stop to consider it. "Done."

Baird didn't have time to say two words. The key was handed over, directions given, and Delta One was out the gate. If Dom made it back alive, he'd kill him. If I don't die of some infection first.

"Yo, you boys a decent shot?" Franklin asked, sizing up the Gears.

"Joined up with the COG after E-Day and I'm still alive," Cole replied, always genial. Baird grumbled. "And this guy here, he joined about the same time. He looks like a bastard but he's a great guy—a real diamond in the rough."

"Follow me. I need more eyes on the wall—buncha shitheads out there, man, moving in on my turf. I don't put up with that shit."

Baird rolled his eyes. "Great. Now we're getting caught up in a turf war. Just what I signed up for."

"Blame Santiago, man. What do ya'll want with Laverne, anyway?"

"Classified," Baird snapped.

Cole shrugged and pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "This hunk of junk is supposed to do some serious damage to the Hollow. We gotta deliver it somehow."

As they climbed to the top of the south wall, activity started to pick up inside the outpost again. People came out to stare and Baird swore he felt a target on his back as he stood, uncovered and vulnerable, on the wall. But no one took the shot. In fact, after a few choice words, they went about their business. He thought it was strangely tame for Stranded.

Franklin walked them along the length of the wall describing their latest skirmish with grubs and other Stranded. Baird half listened. He couldn't care less; he just had to wait for the vehicle to arrive. Holy shit, I don't have to walk. I get a free ride. Suddenly the kryll-filled sky was a little brighter.

When Franklin left, Baird and Cole made themselves comfortable on the wall. Cole propped the resonator against a crate and began to pace from one end to the other. Baird's radio clicked softly and he could hear the other half of Delta discussing something about a woman. Never content to stay quiet, Baird opened the channel.

"This is bullshit," he grumbled and paced away from Cole.

"I told you I had a plan," Dom replied.

"Your plan blows, alright?" There was the unmistakable clang of metal behind him and he turned to see some Stranded kid touching the resonator. "Hey—hey, hands off the merchandise! No handsies on the—"

"Me? I'm just looking," the kid said.

"Yeah, you. Get the fuck away from that!" When the kid didn't move, Baird sighed and jogged back the short distance. It was going to be a very long night. "Baird out."