" There is more power in unity, than division "

- Emanuel Cleaver

" Sarah Dixon Briggs, how many times have I told you not to play dodgeball with Katlin ?! "

Hands on hips, Tamara Briggs looked down at her fresh-off-her-latest-fistfight daughter, standing in her rain and mud dirtied clothes in the foyer of the Briggs' homestead bungalow.

Said daughter , even in the face of her mother's rhetorical question ( one of the oldest parenting tactics known to humanity ), still was pretty defiant though, keeping her arms crossed, and her gaze fixed on her mother's noticably ( and probbably understandably ) exhasperated face. Muddy water had formed pools behind her walking boots, leading from the door to where she was now, but for the moment, Tamara wasn't concerned with the mess. It was much easier to clean that problem up that up than the ones Sarah kept making.

" Sarah. How. Many. Times ? "

Tamara wasn't angry, not yet, but Sarah's stubborn refusal to answer ( and especially as she already knew the answer ) was testing Tamara's temper, as Sarah was seemingly fond of doing. Virtually every day, it seemed. If it wasn't getting into fistfights with the other local children, it was pushing the limits of her nightly curfew to ride her bike with her little clique of like minded comrades ( made up of the few children who hadn't gotten into fights with her ) up and down the length of the main irragation canal that fed water to Skylar. Or, it was wandering off to the edge of the homestead's land to watch the lumbering silhouttes of the Argi-Corp's Titans as they diligently maintained the welding on the primary water resevoir tanks, the towering, pillar-esque structures that loomed like sentinels over the village.

One way or another, Sarah was wildcard. More to the point, she seemed to like it.

Too much a rebel. Where does she get it from ?!

" I haven't been counting. ", Sarah finally, and somewhat bluntly, retorted. " Not sure I can count that high. "

Her rather insolent response should've made Tamara a lot more frustrated than how she was, and a few years ago, she would've, too. But, these days, somehow, instead of that, she couldn't shake off a steadily increasing feeling of weariness. Yes, she loved her daughter to heaven and back- nothing could diminish that, ever- , but there was no getting around that Sarah was really getting into the " rebellion adolescent " phase. Which, actually, didn't seem like a ' phase ' so much as it seemed like was here to stay.

Unfortunately.

" She was behind the whole thing ", the aforementioned rebel insisted. " Its always her fault; Katlin thinks she can push me around, and every time, I have to prove her wrong. This is on her. Well, more on her than me. "

As was with most post- fight explanations from Sarah, it was technically correct: that girl Katlin was a troublemaker, no doubt. Tamara had heard Talk from other parents that she was aggressive at argumentative, to a T.

On the other hand, so was Sarah, which was the other half of the issue, and one that the rebel didn't seem to be paying attentin to. Or, caring about.

This girl. She is certainly turning out to be something.

" Sarah ", Tamara tried not to let her tone shift to lecturing, as she knew that would make Sarah deliberatley try to ignore her. " I know you're not the one who triggers these fights, but you still need to avoid her "

" Its not like I tried to get into it with her ", Sarah insisted. " Why should I have to avoid Katlin for that ? "

So headstrong, she was. Tamra knew for certain now that she got it all from her father, for Tamra herself was a rational, level headed person, who tried to think methodically, and take things from a ' big picture ' perspective .

It seemed, however, that Sarah had yet to learn that vital life lesson. Not to heart, anyway.

Restraining a sigh, Tamara took the gangly limbed rebel by the shoulder, and pulled over to the row of chairs lining the kitchen counter

" Sit ", she instructed firmly.

Still not looking pleased at all about this, Sarah nevertheless did so, biting her lip out of that quiet resentment.

Taking a seat beside her, Tamra took another approach to getting her message across.

" Sarah, where do we live ? ", she asked her.

Sarah huffed by way of response.

Tamara didn't say anything, not giving Sarah the satisfaction of a scolding line. Instead, she waited it out.

It took a while, but after another moment:

" The Frontier ", came the grunted admission.

" And, who makes this place their home ? "

Another pause, but shorter than the first one.

" Us. Folks like us. Living free, by our own rules. "

" Exactly. " Tamra told her. " And who wants to take that away from us ? "

At that, Sarah's expression changed, albeit subtly. There was still hints of annoyance, and frustration, but it was slowly beginning to shift to something else.

Focus. Taking that frustration, and pointing it somewhere:

" The IMC. The ones who wear the white armor, and drive the white Titans. I know what they've been up to. I've been learning about them. "

" Trying to take everything from us. "

Tamara nodded. Sarah didn't need much prompting; she knew who the IMC was. She'd done her own homework, so to speak. About the land appropriations ( thefts ) the Corporation had ruthlessly dropped on homesteaders on other worlds, running the locals off said land at bayonet point. About their boarding actions on independent freighters plying the shipping lanes, confiscating their loads, and either conscripting their crews, or leaving them with nothing, or just point blank gunning them down if they offered a word of protest.

She knew they were the enemy of those who called the Frontier home. The IMC had already affected her home here. Supply runs to the world, once a flow, had fallen to a trickle as the boarding actions rose, day by day. Displaced settlers who had their land pilfered limped their way to anywhere they could reach, including here, on Vardonna itself. They were arriving in steadily increasing numbers, and many of the bigger settlements on-planet were running out of room, supplies, and power to support them all.

Who wouldn't get a fire burning in them from all that ? Sarah, Tamara proudly noted, was no exception.

But, she still needed control.

" They get under my skin ", Sarah informed, kicking aside a cap that had fallen onto the floor nearby a while ago, watching it skid away. " I can't stand them, and what they're doing out there. Its not right. "

" You're correct, Sarah, you definitely are. But, if they're the ones who're actually hurting us, then should we try to get along among ourselves better ? "

" IMC is a bigger problem today than tomorrow, and that will keep getting worse. But, if we're going to make a difference, we need to direct how angry we are. "

She'd hit the nail on the head.

Sarah blinked for a bit, thinking about what had been said.

" Oh "

She realized Tamara was right: she'd been letting her resentment at one enemy, invent others right here at home, where they shouldn't be.

It seemed a bit obvious now. Sarah had actually wondered why these fights with the other, especially Kaitlin, happened so often. She knew she was angry, she knew about the IMC's encroachment, and, well-

That had been fuel on the fire whenever things got tense between her and Kaitlin. The other girl had always seemed just as angry as Sarah, now that she thought of it, whenever they came to blows.

Sarah wasn't brimming with rage all day, of course. But in the quiet moments, when she had time to think, or when something got her adrenaline up, like playing Vardonnan dodge ball, her inner fire just heated up. Different sources of anger, and they tended to mix

Well, now it was a little easier to understand.

" Do you want me to apologize to her, then ? "

It was a sensible question, and Tamara knew that, technically, she should tell Sarah to do so.

But, telling someone to apologize isn't a solution.

" Mend bridges, next you meet her ", Tamara advised. " One of you has to reach out first, otherwise this won't get any better. "

" Its just, I keep getting angry. ", Sarah confessed. " She's always been in the way, but, well, maybe she's just as angry. Maybe, you're saying, we're all turned around, at who we should be angry at "

" There you go ! "

Tamara put a hand in Sarah's shoulder length brownie shaded hair, and gently straightened out a few kinks, to a muted ' ow ' from Sarah.

" Ah ! Ok, ok. I think I know, now "

Truth be told, Sarah did think she did. The answer and been in front of her for a while; now she finally had it.

" You're be going far, you know, if you can learn what it means to be part of a group. Part of a community, not just living in it. "

" And who knows: you could very well end up a leader. "