2. No Place Like Home

"ETA ten minutes to Anvil Gate." Mel Sorotki's voice crackled over the radio. "So put away your knitting."

Sam opened her eyes and gazed out the bay door. The last time she had checked out the scenery, KR-239 had been flying over a seemingly endless expanse of ocean. This was the first time she had made the trek from Azura to Anvegad above the water. She had initially been intent on watching the scenery change, but looking at the ocean was only entertaining for so long. And since Baird was giving her the silent treatment, she'd opted to snooze for the rest of the long flight.

They were definitely close to Anvegad; she recognized the landscape. Suddenly, Sam felt nervous. It was a stupid thing to feel—she was coming home. Nonetheless, she still felt anxious. The last time she'd been at the garrison, there had been no time to get sentimental or weepy. They had arrived under heavy fire, and had left before the shaky relief of surviving a Lambent Berserker had worn off. This time, she knew they would be staying for a long time. She hadn't been home in sixteen years. There would be painful memories here.

Cole seemed to sense her discomfort, as he gave her a reassuring pat on the knee. She smiled at him, and went back to watching the passing scenery. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Baird crammed up against the side of the Raven. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep; his face was locked in its usual scowl. Sam smirked. Yeah, he was still pissed at her for her little stunt. It was worth it, though.

About ten minutes later, Sorotki announced that they were landing. "It was nice flying with you guys. Don't worry about me and Mitchell—we're going to about a hundred rousing games of cards while we wait around for you guys to need us to save your asses."

Baird grabbed his kit bag and hopped off the Raven as soon as it landed. For the last hour or so of the trip, he'd been itching to stretch his legs. As the others disembarked, he noticed two figures making their way towards the Raven. It was Bernie and Dizzy. Bernie looked far too pleased for Baird's liking; he made a pointed effort not to look thrilled.

"There's my boys." Bernie greeted them after the Raven's blades slowed to a stop. "How's island life treating you?"

"Oh, fine," Baird answered. "We've been redecorating the hotel with skins of newly discovered species—taking a page out of your book, Granny."

Bernie swatted at his arm, but kept grinning. She turned her attention to Cole, who looked significantly happier that he was on solid ground. Dizzy tipped his hat to the group, but headed straight for Sam.

"Nice to see you again, Diz." Sam beamed at him. Baird had forgotten how well the two of them got on.

"Likewise, Sam." Dizzy took her kit bag from her, just like a gentleman. "My girls are gonna be mighty happy to see you again. They've been antsy all day."

Dizzy had been on the first Raven out of Azura to get back to his kids. His twin daughters, Teresa and Maralin, idolized Sam. It wasn't hard to see why. All the other women they had to look up to around here were from Pelruan, and saw all Stranded as the scum of the earth. Yeah, Baird felt that way too—but Dizzy wasn't Stranded now; he'd made the smart choice, unlike the rest of the lawless assholes. But Baird didn't exactly expect anyone from Pelruan to be the next humanitarian workers.

Baird hoped no one counted on him coming to any reunion that involved kids. He didn't have a problem with Dizzy's kids specifically; in fact, he'd never formally met them. Baird just didn't have the temperament to put up with bullshit or idiots.

"Where's your old man?" he asked, nudging Bernie.

"His office, with Gavriel, Pad and Rossi." Bernie started walking towards the fort. "They're waiting to brief you."

"Can we dump our stuff first?"

"Better wait. Gavriel's been pretty restless since he found out all of you were getting called in." Bernie shook her head with amused exasperation. "Delta's a regular mini-army, but you blokes don't have to save the world every time you suit up."

They were walking up the main road of the city. Suddenly, Baird was extremely conscious of the fact that all the civvies were staring at him. Creepy. He kept his eyes straight ahead and wondered what the barracks inside the fort would be like. The last time he was there, they hadn't exactly had time for a tour.

"Shit."

Sam said it so quietly that Baird wasn't sure at first if he'd actually heard anything. He walked a few more paces before he realized that everyone else had stopped. He turned around to see the others all watching Sam, who was gazing at one of the houses with a longing look on her face. It caught him off guard for a second, before he remembered that she wasn't one for hiding her emotions.

Baird walked back to the group. He opened his mouth to ask what the hold-up was, but Dizzy beat him to it. "What is it, sweetie?"

Sam didn't look away. "That's where I used to live. With Mum."

Baird glanced at the house. It was definitely a fixer upper; the wooden porch was decaying, and he could see patches of newer material along the walls. A middle-aged woman was washing down the front windows.

This was one of those moments where Baird was reminded just how out of his depth everything was. Dom would've known what to do. Baird squeezed his eyes shut briefly as imaginary pain stabbed at his chest. Damn, he still missed Dom. The extent of his grief took him by surprise, which was why he tried to forget about it. But every once in a while, some feeling would break through.

Sometimes he missed the days where he hadn't cared about anyone.

His eyes flicked to Sam; he felt like he should do something … but, knowing him, he'd probably just make it worse. So he opted for keeping his mouth shut and not blurting out some insensitive comment to try and change the mood. A few moments later, Sam seemed to snap out of it. She grinned awkwardly, and motioned for everyone to continue walking. Baird turned away before she could look at him.

Hoffman was waiting in his office, his back to the door, glaring at a local map. Drew Rossi and Pad Salton stood just behind him. Lewis Gavriel, the mayor of Anvegad, was sitting in a chair near the doorway, looking exhausted. Baird almost felt sorry for the poor bastard; ever since the COG had shown up, every city he led seemed to end up in deeper and deeper shit.

"We're all here, Vic." Bernie announced their arrival. "Let's get started."

Hoffman turned to face them, all professionalism. But Baird suspected if it wasn't for Gavriel, the briefing would have been noticeably more casual. "All right, people, here's the situation: local Stranded have been setting up roadblocks for our fuel shipments from Helvekad. The Gears and personnel at the refinery have also experienced minor vandalism. I suspect that something is brewing in the local camps, so I've called you in as damage control, should shit hit the fan."

"Ungrateful assholes," Baird muttered. "How many times have we saved their lives?"

Cole nudged him. "Be nice. 'Sides, keeps us out of retirement for a few more weeks."

Baird snorted, but didn't say anything else. If Cole was serious—seriously worried about being out of a job—then the man was deluded. There would always be work for the military; it was the human condition.

Hoffman went on about his strategy for a while, which more or less consisted of having at least two Gears awake at all times and sitting around, twiddling their thumbs. Baird wasn't thrilled; he'd been called away from the comfort of a frigging five-star hotel to a small, cramped garrison over a tiny group of unruly assholes. He wasn't looking forward to wandering around Anvegad, bored out of his skull.

The debriefing barely lasted ten minutes. As the others left the office, Baird approached Hoffman. "Hey, if we're not expecting a full-scale assault any minute, you have anything for me to do?"

A few of the frown lines on Hoffman's face disappeared. It was the closest Baird had ever seen him to smiling. "I'm sure I can find a use for a surly mechanic."

The next few days passed without incident. Sam was almost disappointed; part of her had been looking forward to mindless action-reaction state that combat put her in. Instead, she was left with too much time to herself in a city with too many memories.

The last time she had been home—when Anvegad really was home, and not just a battle site between the Locust and Lambent—was a few weeks before Prescott had announced the Hammer of Dawn counterattack. Sam had been home on leave, visiting her mother, trying to convince her that joining when she was sixteen had been the best choice in the long run. It gave Sam a chance to escape the fate that the Fortification Act had in mind for other women of her age.

And then the Ostri Republic had collapsed. Sam was called back to the frontlines, and before she even had time to settle in, the civilians were ordered to retreat to the Jacinto Plateau.

Sam stopped herself before she could get any further. Agonizing over the past did nothing. She got up off her bed. There were a couple hours to kill before her next patrol shift, which promised to be dull. Bernie, Cole and Carmine were out at the moment—probably seeing more action from the squirrels than the Stranded. Sam needed to find something to do to stop herself from reminiscing.

Baird would probably be in the workshop around the back of the fort. Pissing him off never failed to put her in a good mood.

Sam arrived at the workshop a few minutes later. She slipped inside without knocking. In the centre of the room, Baird was sitting on a wooden stool, his torso stuck inside an open panel on an APC. Metallic clanking sounds filled the air, conveniently masking her stealthy approach. She waited until she was right behind him before announcing her presence.

"So." She said it louder than necessary, and it had the desired effect. Baird jumped in his seat and slammed his head on something inside the APC.

He swore vehemently, emerging from the inside of the vehicle. He glared up at her, rubbing the back of his head. "Would it kill you to knock?"

"Good to see you're so tuned in to your surroundings."

"Oh yeah, 'cause if these past couple days have taught me anything, it's that I need to be on my toes all the time." Baird glowered at her for a few more seconds. "If you're here, you might as well make yourself useful. Grab me a wrench."

Sam grinned at the relenting anger. "Say please, and I might not throw it at your head."

He shot her an unimpressed look. "You're more trouble than you're worth." He paused, probably debating between telling her to shove off and actually asking for something nicely. When he finally spoke, his voice was slightly strained. "Frigging please, then. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

She sauntered over to his toolbox and retrieved a wrench. As she turned back around to face the APC, she caught Baird quickly looking away. Any other man would have probably earned a left hook to the jaw, but Sam knew from experience that Baird didn't mean any harm by it. Besides, his poor little brain was probably going berserk trying to figure everything out.

"Need any help?" she asked, handing him the wrench.

He scoffed. "Uh, I don't think so. This is a little more complex than your bike."

Sam leaned against the APC. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"Nope, I'm calling you normal. But I happen to be a genius." Baird took a flashlight out of his tool belt and popped it in his mouth. Wrench in one hand, he disappeared back inside the panel and twisted his body at an angle that could not be healthy.

"Hey." Sam rapped her knuckles on the metal next to the opening. "I can at least hold the flashlight so you don't look like a complete barmpot."

Baird reappeared, and removed the flashlight from between his teeth. "What did you just call me?"

"Well, it doesn't mean genius." Sam took the flashlight and crouched down beside him.

"Whatever. Shine it here."

Sam did as he asked. For a moment, she mourned the loss of her rat bike; it would have made the otherwise boring patrols infinitely more enjoyable. But it had been an emergency transfer, with no time or room for nonessentials. It had been surprisingly difficult to leave the bike behind, for reasons she didn't fully understand. Part of her wondered if she would miss having a casual excuse to spend time with a certain mechanic.

Her earpiece crackled. "Rossi to Byrne. Bored yet?"

She pressed a finger to her ear. "Absolutely out of my mind. Why? You have something in mind?" Baird looked at her questioningly, and she mouthed Rossi's name.

"A fuel shipment's leaving Helvekad in about an hour. Hoffman wants us to escort the truck. You in?"

"You bet your ass, Sarge. We'll meet you at the front gate." She ended the transmission.

"What was that all about?" Baird asked.

"We've finally got something to do." Sam got to her feet, and grabbed Baird's arm to pull him up as well. "Armour up."

The hour-long ride to Helvekad was as uneventful as Baird had expected, but at least it got him out of the fort. He was starting to think this whole transfer had been a colossal waste of time and resources, but like hell would he be taking that up with Hoffman. Coming to Anvil Gate hadn't been a total loss, anyway.

Sam's laugh filled the Packhorse, brought on by some joke from Rossi that he'd missed. Baird glanced around the cramped vehicle: Rossi was driving, keeping the Pack level with the fuel truck, with Sam in the passenger seat. Baird was crammed in the back, between Cole and Pad Salton, who was cradling his Longshot in his lap. But Cole and Pad seemed to be hitting it off, so Baird was free to sit in apathetic silence and glare at the back of Rossi's head.

The other three members of Rossi's squad were in a second Packhorse driven by Carmine, trailing behind the tanker. Baird couldn't figure out why Rossi would opt to drive this Pack and leave Carmine with his squad, but he didn't care enough to speculate.

Baird was about to make a snide comment about Hoffman and Bernie probably shaking up in their absence when the tanker exploded.

A/N: Hey, look! The plot showed up :) Told you it was only a matter of time.