"Thank you for coming," Captain Markus began. He paced as he addressed the full Onyx Guard. "To cut straight to the chase, we've been given a new assignment. We're going back to Territory One, to guard the next caravan that comes in here."

Most of the Guard groaned. "That's crap," argued Steph, a master swordsman. "Why us?" His sentiment was echoed around the tent.

Markus stopped his pacing and raised a hand for silence. "This is not some punishment detail. This is serious. There is a force somewhere behind our line — we don't know where they are, their numbers, anything about them. They ambushed the last caravan: unprepared, unguarded. There were no Ketaran survivors and no Tellian bodies when our scouts got there." He glared at the Onyx Guard, as if he could force the seriousness of the sitiuation into their head. "So yes, we are going back and escorting supplied. We're a Guard. If you don't like it, I'll arrange for your reassignment; most likely your discharge, because I've got better things to do than deal with a bunch of soldiers acting like children."

The team sat in silence. A few of the caught Markus' eyes, then looked away.

"Everyone willing to accept the new orders," Markus said icily, "get geared up — we leave at high noon. If you're done, stay here, because I don't want to see you again." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the tent.

His own quarters were sparse, devoid of any personal items, completely militaristic. Markus had very little to pack, and within moments he was reduced to pacing again.

"Captain Markus, a message for you."

Markus sighed silently. "Come in."

First Lieutenant Rachel Fairchild ducked inside. Markus faced away from her, studying his luggage as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"That was a little harsh." Her voice was low and even, with a hint of her mountain-air accent clinging to her vowels.

Markus closed his eyes briefly. "I believe it was necessary."

"With all due respect, Captain, I disagree."

He turned and scowled at Rachel. "Shouldn't you be packing?" he asked pointedly.

"No," Rachel answered calmly. "I'm already finished, and I wanted to talk to you."

"So talk."

"You have to snap out of it," Rachel declared, her voice suddenly like steel, forcing Markus to remember who he had appointed her a lieutenant in the first place. "I won't pretend to know what your problem is, but you cannot fight angry. That invites death and you know it."

Markus pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a long breath.

Then he turned to face her. "You're right."

A small smile lurked in the corner of her mouth. "Thank you." She became solemn again, tucking a bit of loose hair behind her ear. "Captain, I know I can't replace Porter," she said quietly, "but I swear I can try."

Markus raised his eyebrows slightly. "But now you're wrong again, Rachel," he replied. When she frowned, he found himself smiling just a little. "You're as good as Porter was," he told her firmly. "Don't doubt that. I didn't make you a Lieutenant because you could never replace Porter. I chose you both, keeping in mind that you'd take my place one day."

Rachel's shoulders tensed slightly. "Not any time soon, I hope."

Markus shrugged. "I hope not." But no one could ever know.

Author's note: oh my gods, I'm so sorry for how long it's been. I really wanted to put something good up, since it has been forever and a day, but this was the best I could come up with. I'm very sorry, I've been attacked with finals and feral plotbunnies and the vengeful characters of my actual novel, demanding to have my attention. I'm very sorry that I've fallen so far behind on this. I'll try to be better, and I AM going to finish it. It will not go quietly into the void, it may just be a sporadic thing. Thank you so much to people who have stuck with this.