"So what do you think's out there?"

Larson jabbed his fork in the direction of the town, almost a hundred clicks away outside the window. His helmet sat beside his tray, revealing his shaved head and numerous scars. The helmet itself was spray painted with a variety of humorous messages that Leah enjoyed reading out of boredom. She sat across from him with her own tray of rations, more interested in her food than the city in the backdrop.

He pondered for a moment, waving his fork in circles as if it helped him think. "You know, the last team they sent hasn't responded. Bet the Stranded didn't like Cog in their territory and got all trigger-happy."

"Doubt it." Leah licked her fingers in unabashed enthusiasm. "They aren't that stupid."

They both finished their meals like it was their last. A statement that could easily become true. When the whole world was shit, food tasted alot better. Even war rations.

"Some of those Stranded settlements are pretty well fortified. They pick up weapons off the dead COG Soldiers, fucking makes me sick."

"We do the same."

"Yeah, but we respect the dead. Those are our fucking comrades in arms, not just a meat sack filled with ammunition… Fucking Stranded."

They sat in silence for awhile, not thinking, just simply making the most of their downtime. In just a few minutes, they'd be back on duty and ready to fight once again. So they relished the time they had. Leah had been a Gear long enough to know how things worked. Both she and Larson valued their peace when they had it; they didn't bitch about the bad things in life.

Damn, I can't wait to kick some Locust ass.

"So Larson, what's your schedule today?"

"Patrolling the eastern border. You?"

"Patrolling the west."

"Hmm. I guess it's better than having to patrol central huh? Considering the last team didn't come back."

"Rookies. They're always the first to go."

Larson gave a lopsided grin as he stood. "We were all rookies once, Lee." He sighed, "Well, I gotta use the latrine before the Colonel comes and kicks my ass out on the field. Don't get killed while I'm gone."

Leah smiled. "Take care, Larson."

As he walked out the door to the Commons Area, Leah returned to staring out the window. Ignoring the sirens that signaled the start of a new shift. Idly twirling a black curl of hair with her fingertips, she gazed at the city in the distance.

'We were all rookies once,' What a bunch of bullshit.

Gears weren't made, they were born. You could slap a rifle into a man's hand but that didn't make him a soldier. Less than half of the COG forces today were civilians that had no other choice but to be outfitted in armor. They were survivors, squad members, but they weren't Gears. A true soldier is born a soldier, not a rookie. When that gun touched their hands, they knew how to use it. It wasn't just a weapon, it was an extension of himself. Gears understood that. Civilians didn't.

And that's why humanity is completely fucked. Too many civilians walking around in armor and getting their asses shot down on the field. We lose more than we save.

"Sergeant Reyes, What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Leah's head snapped up to see Colonel Hoffman staring her down. Tall, angry, and square jawed, he towered over her with clear spite, the veins in his neck bulging like always. He spoke in his usual military tone, loud and degrading.

"Did you suddenly go deaf from age? When the sirens go off, you get your ass up and go to your station IMMEDIATELY!"

"Sir yes sir!"

Just as she stood, he put a hand up. "Not so fast, there's been a change in schedule." Blinking, Leah studied the man's face, searching for any clues as to what this was about.

"Sergeant Reyes, you'll be accompanying me into the city. I'll debrief you on the mission on the way. Suit up and be ready in five."