Chapter 46 - Tears of Time I

Aiden

"There is no shame in losing… especially to a girl," Prospera Mercury said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. Aiden thought she was trying for a flat joke, but he kept his expression neutral. They were in Prospera's personal laboratory, an ultramodern space with sleek, utilitarian design. Blue lights cast a calming, surreal glow over the sterile environment.

Aiden merely shrugged. "I… it is what it is," he replied flatly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I don't even really want to pilot anymore."

Prospera paused, her visor catching his gaze. "Really? But you were so good at it," she mumbled, more to herself than to him. "Is one loss really enough to break your resolve?"

She took a knee in front of him, looking up with a concerned expression. She had called him and Oscar earlier, and honestly, he wasn't in the mood after what had happened yesterday.

"The tremors," Aiden said flatly. "Every time I climb into a machine now… I've lost my nerve. I don't have any real desire to pilot, even for sport, especially after…"

"You've realized that these things are just killing machines," Prospera finished for him.

Aiden took a moment to ruminate over her words, then nodded.

Prospera sighed. She had already unclicked his arm, the limb losing its olive skin tone and reverting back to its factory utilitarian grey. She was working on his leg, and as she disconnected it from the port, he watched the color drain away, like a rainbow fading over the horizon.

Aiden shrugged again. "I'm a student, and I've been doing pretty good with the music stuff," he said.

"Oh really?" Prospera responded with a smile. "Suletta has been telling me how good you are. I can't wait to hear it."

Aiden chuckled. "If you want, next business trip I can send you an email with some of the stuff I've made," he offered. "I know I'm young, but I've worked with some pretty famous people, and I've got some new stuff in development."

"Well, I can't wait to hear," Prospera said, her smile widening.

She paused, then reached to her side where a crate lay. She opened it with a keycard, and the box unfolded on its own. Inside were… pegs?

At the tip of the peg where it was meant to connect to the port for his bionics, Aiden could see chips and wires. It was like a blank steel pipe, but he could discern the intricate internals. Prospera took one and brought it to his knee, twirling it as she applied it. Aiden felt a strange buzzing sensation in his head. It was foreign, unsettling. His original bionics were designed to mimic human limbs, but this was a peg, reminiscent of old cartoon pirates. He didn't like it.

To distract himself from the odd sensation, he spoke up. "I was surprised that you asked me and Oscar to do experiments with you."

Prospera tilted her head slightly. "Ah, really?" she stated. "Why so? I've been meaning to talk to you both about creating machines more suited to your preferences. Deacon mentioned that you were upset about the loss of your titans, but I hope you saw the strength of what my Gouf for Deacon was able to accomplish."

Aiden nodded. "Yeah, I was in a spare Demi-Trainer against Chu Chu, but that machine really didn't suit me," he paused.

"Do you have any ideas?" she questioned. "Have you seen the internals of the new machines? Deacon really favors the Gouf, Connor has taken one of my Rick Dom's, and I've talked to Oscar about a modified version of a Zaku 1 that I think will fit him nicely. How about you?"

Before Aiden could respond, the loss, the shakiness, the heavy breathing... he felt like he was back in that arena, staring down Parker, but it was Chu Chu aiming the training laser rifle at him. Was this really the end?

Yet, Aiden shrugged. Why did it matter? His mind flashed to Suletta, his brothers, his music career. He cared about Miorine, but these duels to the death... if this was it, he had more to lose than he realized.

"Hey, can I ask you a quick question? It's a bit off topic."

"Of course," Prospera replied.

"Miorine told Suletta that you'd be gone for business…" Aiden said.

"Oh really," Prospera began, finishing up with the leg peg. She then rose and took the other one for his arm. He lifted the limb, twisting his head away from it all. "Well, Aiden Winters, I bet you can imagine why I don't want Miorine around me all that much."

Aiden snorted at that, and then a laugh followed. "You can say that twice," he began.

Prospera continued, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, you don't really like her?" she teased, already knowing the answer.

Aiden slowly nodded his head, a sigh escaping him. "It's just that she can be so annoying at times… and you can never win with her. Don't get me wrong, she's our friend and all, but it's been difficult being around her lately. We all love Suletta. She plays video games with Oscar, gets along well with Deke, and she's my best friend and…"

Prospera chuckled loudly at that, and Aiden was glad he was hiding his face, feeling the heat along his cheeks. "Best friend, Winters?" Prospera repeated, amused. "Don't lie, I know that you and Suletta are a thing now… she's told me as much."

Aiden didn't know what to say, and he was relieved when Prospera continued.

"I don't mind, honestly. I really am happy that it's you who is with her. You can protect her, and I can see how much you care about her. You have my blessing," Prospera said.

Aiden turned to face her now. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Prospera smiled as she secured the other limb in place. "Don't mention it, but don't forget to get my daughter a Christmas present," she added with a playful jab. "I know Suletta is going to get you something very nice."

"Oh really?" Aiden chuckled. "I just got royalties for one of my songs. Trust me, Suletta is going to call you crying tears of joy from what I'm going to get her."

"Well, I can't wait," Prospera said.

She rose to her feet and went to the side of the room, returning with a wheelchair. With a hop onto one foot, Aiden was helped into it.

"Did you do the same for Oscar?" Aiden asked.

Prospera nodded. "Yes, you both lost limbs, and this new operating system we're going to try could be groundbreaking in the grand scheme of things."

"The grand scheme of things," Aiden repeated with a chuckle, as Prospera took the handles of the chair and started to wheel him out of the room.

Guel

"I was told you'd be here," Guel said, his voice tentative. Shaddiq's gaze remained fixed on the hospital window, staring into the patient room beyond. "I realize now you probably don't want to see or hear from me. I'm sorry, Shaddiq."

Henao lay on the hospital bed, machines beeping with guttural rapidity as Guel and Shaddiq watched her motionless form. The room's sterile scent mingled with an air of despair.

"Is she…," Guel began, his voice trailing off.

Shaddiq cut him off. "She's stable, but the damage left her in a medical coma."

Guel's eyes flared with distress, his hands combing through his mane of hair. "Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry, Shaddiq," he paused, swallowing hard. "I know they're not your blood, but I see how much you love them like family."

Shaddiq's face twitched, his fingers curling into tight fists. "The son of a bitch brutalized her," Shaddiq said, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "A couple of her fingers were broken, a rib or two cracked, and Guel, he…he…"

Shaddiq's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, blood nearly seeping from his fingertips. "When I get my hands on the Sons of Harmony, they're dead."

Guel stood frozen, taken aback by the depth of Shaddiq's fury. He'd never seen him with such a death glare. Guel and his brother had been gone for weeks, returning with less than they'd hoped for. Now, standing before Shaddiq, he felt foolish for coming.

"Well, out with it," Shaddiq snapped, pulling Guel from his thoughts.

Shaddiq turned, his expression a blank mask. "You came all this way to talk to me. My girls said you came around yesterday. So, what is it?"

Guel rested a hand on his chest, trying to gather his thoughts. "Listen, I don't want to bother you about—"

"My responsibilities," Shaddiq interjected curtly. "Tragedy or not, I'm still head of the dueling committee. So, what's going on?"

Guel took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. "I-I'm thinking of going after Aiden Winters again."

Shaddiq nearly exploded into laughter, his voice a harsh bark in the quiet hallway.

Guel met his gaze, unflinching. "Well, I didn't expect that," Shaddiq said, placing a hand on his hip as he regarded Guel. "After everything that happened… even after Laude, he—"

Guel waved it off. "This isn't about that. Maybe it's my pride, but I can't let Aiden Winters… I can't let a member of Harmony attain something like this."

Shaddiq's eyes narrowed, a calculated glint flickering within them. He saw an opportunity in Guel's pride and arrogance. Gazing down at Henao's broken form, he knew the Sons of Harmony had to be stopped—not just for the race, not for the Group, but for Miorine. He would have her, no matter the cost.

"It seems our interests align," Shaddiq said, turning to Guel with a confident gleam in his eyes. "Have you heard about Aiden's last duel?"

Guel sneered. "The one where he brutalized over ten people," he scoffed. "I thought he'd learn after Elan, but that brute didn't…"

Shaddiq chuckled, a dark sound that made Guel pause. "No, I heard through the grapevine that Aiden Winters had a little mock fight with one of the pilots of Earth House. He was trembling in his seat," Shaddiq said firmly.

Guel's eyes widened, the image of Aiden's unstoppable form wailing on him and standing triumphantly atop his titan wavering like a stone cast across a placid lake. "What are you trying to say?"

Shaddiq's smirk deepened. "If we're going to fight Aiden Winters," he pointed at the hospital floor, "now is the perfect time to reclaim the Holder position."

Guel nodded, but Shaddiq could see the hesitation in his eyes. "What's wrong?" Shaddiq asked. "I'd imagine you like the idea of evening the score."

"Yeah, I know," Guel said, glancing down at his feet. "But my father… he doesn't want me to…"

"And when has that ever stopped you, Guel Jeturk?" Shaddiq interjected.

Guel stared down at his feet, memories flooding back—Laude, the beatings, both within the cockpit and outside. The Sons of Harmony needed to be knocked down a peg, and if he could take back the Holder position, his father's words would be rendered moot. His pilot's pride, once waning, would be restored. He would be back to who he once was.

"What did you have in mind?" Guel asked.

Shaddiq smirked as he wrapped his arms around himself, leaning casually against the sterile hospital wall. "Henao is out of commission for a long while, so that leaves me short-handed," he began, his tone calculated. "I know Laude is trained, so you and Laude join me, and we'll smash them in another team battle."

Guel mulled it over, and Shaddiq could almost see the gears turning in his mind. He had known Guel for years; he could predict his response. As Guel's expression shifted to a satisfied smile, Shaddiq felt a surge of triumph.

"It can't be a duel to the death," Guel stated firmly.

Shaddiq nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. They've become too much of a precedent at the Academy after the last few battles. I don't want the other students getting inspired by that kind of brutality."

Guel nodded again, raising his hand towards Shaddiq in a gesture of solidarity. "Okay, then," Guel said, and Shaddiq's smirk widened as he took Guel's hand in a firm grip.

"Together, we'll crush Aiden Winters and his Sons of Harmony," Shaddiq declared.

The handshake was firm, sealing a pact forged from necessity and mutual ambition. Shaddiq's eyes gleamed with a dark determination, knowing that this alliance would change everything.

Ensign Marty

Marty stood within the stolen bridge of the Jetturk Heavy Transport, lounging in the captain's chair with his legs outstretched, projecting an air of uneasy authority. Around him, soldiers stood in tense silence, forming a wall of rigid discipline on either side. Engineers, soldiers, and pilots formed a restless crowd, their murmurs blending into a low hum of anxiety. The lights were dimmed to avoid detection, casting eerie shadows that danced across the metallic surfaces. They had just reentered main space and were now vulnerable to scanners if everything was fully operational. This operation that Marko had them executing…

Marty shook his head, his hand moving to his face in a gesture of frustration. Wilkerson and Travis flanked him. Wilkerson's face was a mask of stoic neutrality, while Travis wore an unsettlingly wide smile.

"Get your hands off me!" Norea's voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Don't touch her!" Sophie's shout followed, her voice tinged with fury. Marty winced at the sound.

They were ushered into the bridge, their eyes wild and scanning the room. Norea and Sophie stared around with shock and annoyance, but it was Sophie's aimed glare at Marty that stung the most.

"What is the meaning of this, Ensign?" Norea demanded, her voice hoarse and eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion, heavy bags beneath them.

"Yeah, Marty, what the hell!" Sophie echoed, her glare piercing.

Marty halted for a moment, hesitated. Weren't they friends? Why was he doing this? It would have been easier to just go along with Wilkerson. Why was he even giving them a chance? He could get Sophie, but Norea as well. No, he shook his head…because his warrior pride demanded it.

"Did you make sure that they were unarmed?" Marty asked one of the guards who had retrieved them.

The young soldier nodded and handed over Norea's signature 9-millimeter. Marty took the weapon and rested it next to his side.

"Do you two have any idea why you are here, now?" Marty questioned.

Norea and Sophie gazed at each other for a moment. Amidst the anger and betrayal, there was confusion.

"No," Norea blurted out, her words grinding as she glared at Marty.

Marty sighed. He thought it was going to be easier…he at least hoped so. He wanted them to admit it, but deep down, he knew they were just as taken aback as he was.

"So, you have no words on your conspirations to betray us?" Wilkerson stated flatly.

Norea and Sophie's eyes widened.

"What are you talking about?" Sophie bluntly stated.

Travis's scoff was heavy, and his forced laughter grated on everyone's nerves. "You believe this shit? We've got messages from Marko himself. The thirteenth king of Harmony has decreed that you two were planning on betraying us and…"

Now Norea was laughing, heavy and hard. Her eyes wide and glaring at Marty. "You really going to believe this?" she stated.

Marty was silent for a moment.

Norea continued. "So, after saving your life and fighting by your side," she said, her gaze drifting to Sophie with frozen eyes riddled with both anger and sadness. "Even ignoring your relationship with Sophie…you really think we were planning on betraying you?"

Sophie's eyes were frozen, drifting from Marty to the steel flooring. Marty's teeth clenched tight as he drew his gaze towards Norea.

"Listen, Norea," Marty began, "Marko ordered me to…"

Norea cut him off. "Marko ordered you?" she snapped. "Since when did you become his lapdog? Since when did you stop thinking for yourself?"

"Marty, you can't be serious about telling them our plans. This isn't even what Marko ordered us to do," Wilkerson began, but Marty's stare cut him off, sharp as a knife.

Marty's voice was steady, almost chilling in its calm. "Marko wanted us to slit both your necks while you slept and steal your Gundams for the war effort. That sponsor of yours who recommended you to us? She's pulling a turncoat, and he wanted to make sure there were no loose ends."

Travis's eyes widened as he turned to Marty. "You're going to tell the prisoners our plans?" he said incredulously.

Norea and Sophie froze at Marty's words, their minds racing for an escape. Norea's eyes flicked to the guard next to her. He held an old Harmony assault rifle, his eyes glued to her and Sophie's forms. Trained as they were, there were over a dozen men in this room who would cut them down before they could react. Norea's fist tightened…they were stuck, and their machines were out of reach.

"It's the least I can do," Marty said, nodding toward the pair. "They're just as surprised by their supposed treachery."

Wilkerson's eyes widened. He didn't like Marty's choice of words. "Supposed treachery?" he repeated under his breath, turning to Marty. "What are you trying to do, Moreno?"

"I'm just saying that Norea saved me twice and that Sophie has been nothing but friendly to us," Marty replied. "Marko may be king, he may be the leader, but sometimes kings and leaders can be wrong. I will question orders that recklessly jeopardize my friends, war comrades, and those I owe a debt to."

The crowd around them began to mutter and whisper, the tension thickening. Wilkerson's glare spoke silent volumes. "Marty, you can't be serious…"

Marty shrugged. "I have seen no treachery from these two, quite the opposite. Norea saved my life twice. She may be a bumbling racist towards Spacien's, but she saved me from becoming mush along the side of a vessel. When I needed to climb into the Full Armor, she gave me good advice before I burnt to death in the cockpit. What more do you call that?"

The mutterings grew louder. "You know what, Sophie isn't that bad, but Norea…we can do without her," someone joked, and a few laughed.

Marty's eyes darted to the source of the laughter, his face hardening. "Enough," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This isn't a game. We're talking about people's lives."

Marty smirked and drew his gaze toward Sophie. "I've got you two," he stated firmly. "Marko may have given the death order, but I am not going to slit the throats of two people who have done nothing but help us."

"What!" Wilkerson shouted, his voice curt and loud, sweeping his hand around the crowd. "Ensign, Commander! You can't be serious. For these Earthians, you're going to disobey a direct order?"

"You are right, Lieutenant," Marty replied, his voice steady. "But I will not follow orders that are wrong. There is honor, Wilkerson. What honor is there in murdering two good friends? These two girls are the reason I didn't die... one of the reasons we were able to deal with the Jetturk hounds that have been hunting us."

Wilkerson's hand cleaved through the air, his narrowed eyes glaring at Marty. "You can't be serious. A direct order is a direct order!" he shouted. "If Marko finds out we went renegade, he'll send the others after us and—"

Marty sneered. "Wilkerson, you are the Lieutenant, and I appreciate your counsel, but this next engagement is going to require everything and more that we've got."

Norea's eyes widened. They were approaching their final stop now.

Marty's gaze drifted back to the two girls. "The deal stays the same. You've aided us this far, and you help us with the final mission. You'll get your pay cut and be next to Earth. You'll be home free."

Norea and Sophie were speechless, but it was Travis who spoke up.

"I agree with Wilkerson," Travis stated flatly, turning to face Marty. "Two Earthian whores aren't worth going renegade over. Heck, Norea over there insulted Wilkerson's dead brother. Don't you remember that, Marty?"

"Yes," Marty said, his words grinding against his teeth in annoyance. "However, that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. The legion is going to assemble, all of them. We need all the help we can get for this mission, and Marko is a fool for tossing away two skilled Gundam pilots."

"Like that's what's on your mind," Wilkerson scoffed.

Marty shot him a warning glance. "Wilkerson, you better keep your mouth shut."

"Oh really," Wilkerson replied with a sneer. "I've been silent long enough. You just want to fool around with your Earthian whore, isn't that it? I've seen the way you look at her and how she follows you around like a puppy dog. You're a commander, and now you're insulting and disobeying the word of our king…"

"Call Sophie a whore again and you'll lose your fucking tongue," Marty's voice cut through the room like a knife, silencing everyone. His finger pointed squarely at Wilkerson.

Wilkerson's features twisted into a cruel smile as his hand went to his belt, resting on his combat knife.

Norea and Sophie exchanged looks, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Norea's eyes darted towards a spot behind the guards, but Sophie shook her head, knowing that any sudden movement would result in them being riddled with bullets.

"What then?" Norea whispered, frustration seeping into her tone.

Sophie smirked slowly and nodded towards Marty. "Guess we've got to rely on him," she stated.

Norea facepalmed herself, a sigh escaping her lips.

Marty scoffed at Wilkerson and Travis. "Ignoring the blatant disobedience,"

"You're one to fucking talk," Wilkerson shouted, slamming his open palm on his chest. "I come from original Harmony stock like my brother, and I know how important hierarchies are. Marko made you commander because he trusted you... and you're going to spit on that trust for what, two girls?"

Marty shook his head. "Sophie is a different story altogether... but I am not going to let Norea or Sophie get killed after they aided us." Marty rose from his seat and took a step forward, his hand going to his own combat knife. "This isn't about military orders or the royal orders of a king; this is about a warrior's honor."

"…and what about the things the little Earthian whore stole?" Travis spat.

"Call her a whore again and you'll never speak again," Sophie's voice rang out, sparking mutters and whispers from everyone in the room.

Travis's fist clenched, but Marty's glare kept him in check.

Marty sighed. "She just took some sleeping pills," he stated flatly.

Wilkerson, undeterred, spoke again. "She stole military supplies."

"SLEEPING pills," Marty repeated, his voice a growl as he pointed at Wilkerson and Travis. "You both have your own vendettas against the girls, and now you're dragging this up. I won't have it. Sophie and Norea are good people, and as the COMMANDER of the Nexus 65th, I will not kill them like animals because Marko orders me to."

His breath was heavy, each rise and fall of his chest punctuating his words as he glared at the men around the room. "Do you all want to act dishonorably and kill a bunch of girls while they sleep, or frag them in the middle of battle?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the silent room. "Is that why we fight? Norea and Sophie have been nothing but helpful, they've saved my life, and I know they've saved your lives as well. You should all be ashamed that you even considered harming them. The Militia used to mean something. The Legion was formed to raise up sons who lost everything to the Benrett Group…why turn on our allies now?"

Mutters of understanding began to rise from the crowd, but Wilkerson's sneer only deepened. His teeth gritted together, and with a sudden, sharp motion, he drew his combat knife, the sound of the blade scraping against the scabbard echoing in the dimly lit room.

"You've crossed a line, Ensign Moreno," Wilkerson spat, the use of Marty's old title a deliberate insult. The dim light glinted off the metal of the blade as he settled into a knife stance. "You are disobeying orders from the king himself. Marko will hear of this, even if I have to kill you to reach him."

Marty's glare darkened. "Don't do this, Wilkerson. We are brothers…don't turn me into a kin killer for this," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Wilkerson scoffed. "Tobias is dead, and he'd be turning in his grave knowing what you're doing with your new leadership, squandering it away for two girls who deserted and left the war," he paused, steadying his legs as he prepared to strike. "The bards of Harmony will not sing tales of your heroics or grandeur in battle. Your exploits will not be carved into your titan, your Zaku, or even that cursed Gundam. My little brother, Keith…he's dead, and I am all that remains. There will be no songs of how brave you died, turncoat. Not after so many are dead."

The room fell silent, and Marty's eyes scanned the faces around him, lingering on the stars outside for a moment before landing on Norea and Sophie. Sophie's eyes were wide with terror.

Marty clicked his teeth. "Then we'll have it your way," he said, drawing his own knife.

There was no breathing, no sound. They merely acted. A tight circle had formed around them as even the Nexus 65th stood in solemn silence, their faces set in grim resolve. No one cheered or jeered; they all knew the stakes. If Marty won, they'd accept his decree. If Wilkerson prevailed, they'd be at his malevolent mercy.

Marty ducked just as Wilkerson's knife slashed through the air, barely missing his throat but cutting faint hairs. Marty rewarded Wilkerson with a brutal kick to the stomach, causing him to stagger and catch himself with a hand pressed to his abdomen. There was no time to think.

Marty lunged for a stab, but Wilkerson pivoted on his feet, slamming his free hand into Marty's knife hand to disarm him. Marty twisted his wrist away and countered with a punch, only for Wilkerson to parry and slash the front of Marty's palm. Crimson started to glisten, but it was a shallow cut.

Marty flicked his blade between his fingers, aiming for Wilkerson's shoulder, but Wilkerson's blade was coming at him faster. Their knives clashed, crude metal scraping against metal. These weren't the data knives of old Harmony but simple, utilitarian weapons. It struck Marty how far the militia had fallen.

Their blades crossed, teeth gritted, sweat pouring down Wilkerson's face as he struggled to keep up. Wilkerson dropped to his feet and kicked Marty's legs out from under him. Marty crashed to the floor hard, his eyes widening as Wilkerson, both hands tightly gripping his knife, prepared to drive it into his chest.

"Marty!" Sophie's scream cut through the tension, raw and desperate.

Marty swung his legs up, his boot connecting with Wilkerson's face. The knife slipped from Wilkerson's grasp and clattered to the ground. Dazed and bloodied, Wilkerson stumbled backward, swiping the blood from his lips and spitting out a tooth that clattered against the metal floor. But the battle was far from over.

Marty wasn't dazed; his head throbbed from the impact, but he knew he had to act fast. He seized Wilkerson's dropped knife with his free hand. As Wilkerson threw a wild punch, Marty's instincts took over. Brotherhood and memories faded away, leaving only the primal urge to survive. Either die or kill. Marty knew if he hesitated, Wilkerson wouldn't.

Wilkerson cocked a punch and aimed it at Marty's face, pivoting his whole body to create as much force and strength as he could muster. Marty narrowly dodged, dipping underneath him. More agile and slim, but with the strength he built from his momentum, Marty slammed the knife in his right hand into Wilkerson's chest, right in the middle.

Shock flashed in Wilkerson's eyes, and a wave of horror surged through Marty. But that horror did not stop him from driving Wilkerson's own blade into the soft, plastic-like flesh of Wilkerson's left eye.

Wilkerson stuttered on his feet, gazing around the room in a daze. His body trembled, and their eyes locked. Marty stared at him, feeling like a man pinned with needles, as the battle lust and adrenaline faded away.

"Wilkerson, I-I…," Marty tried to reach out for him, but Wilkerson was dead before he even hit the ground. The sound of his brother's corpse striking the metal floor was sickening.

Marty's hand lingered in the air, always reaching, always trying to grasp what he could never attain. "Why did you make me do this," he whispered, his voice raw with grief. "Why did you think you were strong enough to fight me, you fool."

Marty kneeled beside him, his breath heavy and labored.

"Kin slayer, kin killer, murderer of one's own," the crowd whispered amongst themselves. Sophie and Norea gazed around, confusion and fear etched on their faces.

"Travis, get them all in line," Marty commanded, his voice strained but resolute.

Travis stood frozen, his eyes locked on Wilkerson's lifeless body. His fingers tightened into fists, a twitch dancing in his eyes.

"Travis," Marty repeated, dragging out the name with a dangerous edge. "Get everyone in line. Everyone, get back to your posts, and…someone call for someone to handle Wilkerson's body."

Marty rose, glaring at Travis. The silence and his refusal to move were not lost on anyone. Travis shot him one final glare, but Marty met it with a look that dared him to defy, promising the same fate if he did.

Finally, Travis's fingers uncurled, and he gazed around. "You heard the Commander," he said. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse. Marty could hear some cursing his name, but it was already too much for one day. This action had most definitely put the final nail in the coffin of any loyalty or trust his men might have held for him.

Norea and Sophie had risen to their feet, shaky and wide-eyed at what had just happened. Confusion etched across their faces, but Marty's gaze remained fixated on Wilkerson's lifeless body. "I-I didn't mean to," he muttered flatly. "It was just a reflex. He was going to kill me…and I… I knew that if I didn't, I'd…" He slammed his bare fist into the steel floor, the sound reverberating through the room. "Fool, damned fool," Marty repeated. "You told me that I was stronger than all of you, that I was on the same level as him, but you still believed you could defeat me?"

"Marty…" Sophie called out his name softly, her voice a mix of concern and caution. She took slow, deliberate steps toward him, inching closer and closer. Their green flight suits contrasted starkly with the casual wear of the other young men and women around them, a grim reminder of the war they were all entrenched in—a war they could hardly remember why they were fighting.

"Why did you take the pills, Norea?" Marty asked suddenly, his voice sharp and piercing. Sophie halted in her tracks, her eyes darting between Marty and Norea. Marty turned to face Norea, his eyes wide and bloodshot, teetering on the verge of tears that refused to fall. There was sadness, loathing, hate… but as his eyes wandered to Sophie, there was something softer there, a flicker of something gentler amidst the turmoil.

Marty rose to his feet, his stance imposing as he glared at Norea. Sophie rushed to position herself between them, her hands outstretched in a futile attempt to calm the storm. Norea turned her head away, a defiant sneer forming on her lips. She was about to walk away when Marty erupted. "I was fucking talking to you!"

Norea whirled around, her sneer deepening. "I don't have anything to…"

"What to say?" Marty snapped, cutting her off. "Well, they were using that against you as a reason to slit your throat while you slept. I get that you don't like me, but now, we're even."

"Even?" Norea echoed, her voice laced with incredulity.

"Yeah, even," Marty said, raising his fingers to count off the instances. "You saved me when you blasted that hole into the hull, and when you helped me get the grasp of the full armor." Marty's fingers tightened back into a fist, the knuckles white.

"What was the second time?" Sophie interjected tentatively. Marty shot her an annoyed glare, and she felt herself shrink under its intensity.

"You two thought you were slick. I caught both your asses snatching those sleeping pills from the supply cache," Marty said, his voice exasperated. He raised his arms in a gesture of frustration before letting them fall back to his sides. "So, what was it? Are you going through some shit or something? I know it seems little, but if you had asked, I would've gotten you some. But you taking a whole bottle, that was too much."

Norea glared at him. "It was one bottle of—"

"Pills, I know," snapped Marty. "But you forget that the warbands of the legion didn't have supplies for years. We've grown into a culture of raiding, we share everything, we catalog everything. When you did that..."

Marty's deep breath came out grating as his hand went to his face. "It most definitely ruffled feathers." He paused, his frustration palpable. "Your Spacien hate is one thing, but now I am a kinslayer. It's abhorrent, and my job as commander has just gotten far harder."

"Now, I ask you again, what is wrong with you?" Marty pressed, his voice carrying the weight of his newfound burden.

Sophie looked at Norea, almost pleading with her eyes. She could sense the tension and knew they needed to explain.

Marty continued. "Kinslaying... We may not be related by blood, but the Nails unite us in a brotherhood." He paused, the gravity of his actions settling over him. "Now, there is discord, and some will believe I am playing favorites."

Norea paused, but something else came alight in her mind. "The militia did that to you?" she questioned, her voice softening.

Marty's eyes snapped wide at that. "Huh, what does the militia have to do—"

"I've been having issues sleeping lately," Norea began, her voice trembling slightly. "It was horrible, but I dreamt of something... Do you know a man named Aiden Winters?"

Marty's eyes widened further, gazing at both Norea and Sophie in shock. "How do you know the name of the druid? I never... you shouldn't..."

Norea's glance sent a shiver down his spine. "I... I think he's been visiting me in my dreams."