"For the record, you aren't allowed to tell anyone about this," Ari said.

"Aw, come on," Dalton replied, then yawned.

She shifted beneath the blanket, pressed herself a little more tightly up against him. He never would have thought of a Ghost as affectionate, but she was affectionate right now. Not that he had a problem with that.

Ari sighed. "Fine. I guess I can't stop you anyway. Just don't give details. Like my name. Either of them. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

She laughed softly. "Thank you." Then she grew more serious. "And...I appreciate this."

"Same," he replied.

She seemed like she wanted to say more, but instead she abruptly rolled over. "We should sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm crashing out as it is," he agreed. After a moment's consideration, he rolled over against her back and put an arm around her. "Is this, uh...okay?"

"Yes, this is okay," she murmured.

He settled a little more into place, and quickly fell into a hard sleep.

Here again.

He was here again.

Walking the darkened halls of rusted metal, listening to the creaks and groans of the Refinery around him.

Knowing that it was about to happen. It could happen at any moment, and he had to get out of there. He wanted to run, to flee as fast as his young legs could carry him, but he was stricken by the absolute certainty that the moment he began to run, that he broke from his slow, cautious walk, it would happen and then he would die.

Behind him, something growled.

He stiffened, slowly turned around.

That was new. This had never happened before. He had always been alone in this place, whenever he came back to it, always against his will.

Darkness there…

And something more.

As he stared into the darkness, red eyes snapped open, and he-

Dalton jerked awake as he heard knocking on metal.

"Specialist Frost."

Ari was instantly awake beside him. She looked momentarily confused, looking at him like she wasn't sure who he was, and then she relaxed. "What?" she asked.

"The CO wants to see you."

"Understood. I'll be there soon."

"Have you seen Dalton?"

It was Dix. It took him a moment to put that together, his head was still in pieces from the hard wake and the nightmares, but it was Dix. Great.

"No," she replied, "not since last night."

A long pause. "Uh-huh. Well, if you see him, tell him the CO wants to see him, too."

"Understood."

Receding footfalls, and then they were alone again in her little corner of the Armory.

"He knows," Dalton muttered.

"Great," Ari groaned, sitting up fully and stretching. "Will he talk?"

"Probably not. He won't if I ask him not to."

"Which you'd have to acknowledge that it had happened."

"Not necessarily. I have a way with words."

"I see. I would appreciate it. Now you should go."

He looked at her as she got up off the bed and began pulling her uniform on. She wasn't facing him. Hmm. He probably should've expected to be swept out quick. Now came the big moment where the dice he'd thrown last night landed. Would she decide he was too much of a liability and find some excuse to get him fucked over by the Confederacy? Would she pretend like she'd never opened up to him at all and just flat ignore him?

He couldn't even be mad at her as he got up and got dressed. He hadn't intended on proposing to her, but he also wouldn't have minded more connections like that. She was right, it had been cathartic. But sometimes that's just how it was, especially in the military. Sex was fun, but it was a luxury. Relationships were even more of a luxury unless you got really lucky. And he was, by a long shot, not a lucky man.

"See you," he said as he grabbed his cigarettes. After a moment's hesitation, he left two for her on her workbench, then headed for the door.

"See you," she murmured.

He opened the door, stepped out, closed it behind him. No one in the Armory. Good.

Dalton hurried off to his quarters.

"What's the situation?" Dalton asked as he stepped into the Control Room.

Miller and Dix were standing in the center of the room with one of only three technicians the base had. The most competent among them, and as much as he felt for Dallas, he was sometimes frustrated with how low a bar that had turned out to be.

"I think I found the problem." Dallas said. He was holding a part. "Had to dig real deep in the system, but this thing is damaged."

Dalton walked over and held out his hand. Dallas put the piece gingerly in his grasp, and Dalton studied it closely, holding it up to the light. "Hmm...maybe."

"You can see the damage right there," Dallas said.

"I know. That's not what I meant. I'm not a comms expert, but it seems unlikely that this level of damage could've screwed the whole array."

"It's all we have to go on, unfortunately," Miller said.

Dalton looked away from the part and more closely at his el-tee. The guy looked bad. Bags under his bloodshot eyes, pale, he probably hadn't slept a wink last night.

"Did anything happen overnight?" Dalton asked.

"No, but I opted not to send another patrol out. I was hoping someone would come and investigate by now, though we've only been in blackout for less than a day." He sighed and ran a hand over his shaven head. "Dalton, I want you to take two of the rovers and handpick yourself a team of five to back you up, get armed and armored and drive over to Gamma Four. We don't have this part in inventory and they're a supply station, so they should have it. Check in with them, too. Make sure they're okay. And if at all possible, use their comms to report this. Also, Dixon and Frost need to stay here. I want them around in case something goes wrong."

"Understood," Dalton replied.

"Dix, get suited up. You're going to be in charge of security under me while Dalton is out."

"Got it," Dix replied.

The two men walked out of the Command Center, passing Frost on the way out.

"You weren't in your room," Dix said.

"I was just sleeping extra hard, didn't hear you," Dalton replied.

"You're a bad liar, and I'm sure sleeping wasn't the only thing you were doing 'extra hard' last night," Dix replied with a small laugh.

Dalton paused in his striding towards the Armory and Dix stopped as well. They were out of earshot of anyone else, as most of the rest of the base was getting chow this early in the morning. Dix stared at him, Dalton stared back.

"Look, uh...whatever you think might've happened, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything," Dalton said.

It was rare that he had to get very serious with Dixon, but it had been known to happen, and thankfully, the Firebat had the same reaction he had the other times.

He nodded tightly, his own expression serious. "Of course."

"Thanks."

They resumed walking. Dix was a good guy, and so far as Dalton knew, he'd never betrayed anyone's confidence. Although everyone at the base had initially steered clear of the two of them, that had changed after a week or so, and then everyone seemed to be coming to them with one thing or another. For a reason Dalton had never been able to piece together, people wanted to ask him for advice. On everything from how to be a better shot to if they should get married. He just gave off that vibe, he supposed.

And, interestingly, so did Dix.

At least some of the time. Half the time he gave off the 'screw off and leave me alone' vibe. Given what his life had been like before the military, it made enough sense.

"Muddy today," Dix muttered as they walked into their Armory and began suiting up.

"Yep, gonna be a bitch driving out there," Dalton replied.

The pair entered a thoughtful silence as they geared up. Dalton was thinking about last night. The good stuff, obviously. Everyone had their fantasies and he had to admit there was something in a lethal woman, that sort of psycho-sexual vibe, that had him really interested, and Ari had been even better in bed than he had been hoping for. But he also wondered about what it meant to her. An encounter like last night usually meant something to just about anyone. He still wasn't sure what it meant to him.

Did it matter, though?

She'd leave in another week at most, and he'd almost certainly never see her again. And even if the stars aligned, could you even build a life with a Ghost?

"Dalton," Dix said, and something in his voice immediately caught Dalton's attention.

There was a gravity to that single word that Dix rarely used, and usually he only came down with the tone when his suicidal ideation was bleeding through. The big man had finished putting his armor on, and now he was standing at his workbench, leaning on it, staring down at it. The exact same pose Ari had struck when she'd been wrestling with her emotions last night.

"Yeah?" Dalton replied cautiously.

"...you ever think about just leaving? Just grabbing your shit, grabbing a rover, and just going?" he asked.

Dalton blinked. This wasn't what he had been expecting. "I mean...yeah. Sometimes. I think everyone does...why?"

Dix sighed after a long moment. "I don't know. Sometimes this, all of this, the place, the people, the life, it just feels...like I'm drowning." He laughed suddenly, a bitter sound. "I guess the only thing really keeping me here is the fact that I don't know where I'd go. What outfit could I sign up with that isn't just as full of bull as the Confederacy? The other governments just have a different coat of paint, and the rebel groups are all out for themselves in the worst way. They don't care who they kill to get what they want."

Dalton felt his mind flailing. He wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen this particular facet of Dixon. "It isn't completely unheard of that people start their own groups," he said finally. "There are colonies out there. Small colonies founded by good people...it isn't impossible."

"Maybe," Dix muttered. He sighed suddenly and began checking over his flamethrower. "Forget it. Sorry. You've got enough shit on your mind."

"No, don't be sorry," Dalton replied. "I told you I'm here to talk. I meant it. I don't armor up just because it gets ugly sometimes, and I'm not a fairweather friend." He finished suiting up and checked over his own weapon.

"Why do you care?" Dix asked after another long moment. It sounded like a genuine question. "Most people don't really care, not when it gets heavy. Can't even blame 'em. Not sure what I'd say to me during those times when I admit most days I'd rather eat a bullet for breakfast more than anything else."

"Because...you're a good person. And there aren't enough of those. And...shit, I don't know, man. I just care. And I get it. There's a lot of problems out there that don't really have solutions, but if there's one thing I've put together over the years, it's that having someone to talk to, even if it won't solve anything, helps. It makes the torture less torturous."

"That makes sense," Dix murmured. He turned around suddenly. "Whatever's happening, it'll probably kill us. You saw Pill. You saw that thing in the clouds. And I feel like I've never really said this, so I'll say it now, while I've still got the chance: thanks for being my friend. No one else really has since...before."

"You're welcome, and thanks for the same thing," Dalton replied. "...you planning on dying?"

Dix laughed. "Actually no. Maybe it sounds nuts, but for real, I wanna know. I want to know what's out there, what's doing this."

"I got twenty creds that says you'll regret that once we actually figure it out," Dalton replied.

Dix laughed again, louder. "Shit, you're on." He sighed and then turned back to his weapon. "Come on, we should get to it before Miller gives himself a stroke."

"Yeah," Dalton agreed, and they got back to work.

Despite the decidedly dark and serious nature of the conversation, Dalton found himself in a better mood as he drove away from Gamma Seven yet again. Dix was the most honest person he'd ever met, and in a world of neurological rewriting, patriotic bullshit, and good old fashion lies, truth and trust were scarce, highly valued resources.

His good mood diminished a bit, however, as the mud started giving him crap. The rovers were built solid, but it had rained good last night. As he led the way, he ran through his mental checklist again. The team he'd assembled he felt was fairly decent for what should be a milk run...should be. But it also might be a meat grinder.

That was usually how it went.

It had been a little risky, but he'd opted to bring along the senior technician, Dallas, because he wanted someone there who was really positive about the tech. He'd also brought Baker and a medic Lance Corporal named Forrester because they were some of the more competent people. Forrester was quiet and reserved, but always knew her shit when she did speak. And he'd pretty much rounded out the team by bringing Fisher and Wheeler. If it really came down to it, they could aim and shoot, and run, and that's what really mattered.

He'd done the others a favor and taken on the two Privates in his own rover while letting the second half of the squad ride in the other vehicle.

"What's really going on, Sarge?" Wheeler asked.

"Can't rightly say," Dalton replied.

"You really found Pilsner all chewed up?" Fisher asked.

"Yes."

"And Philbrick is really missing?"

"Yep."

"What do you think it is?" Wheeler murmured.

"Maybe animals...I don't know. It didn't seem like a strategic attack, if that's what you're worried about."

"I think it was aliens," Fisher said.

"Aliens, Fish?" Dalton replied, mostly to distract himself just a little as he kept on driving.

"Yeah! Ain't you ever heard the rumors that we got aliens locked up in secret installations? Experimenting on them?"

"I really doubt it," Dalton replied.

"Yeah, why would they keep that a secret?" Wheeler asked.

"They keep lots of stuff secret, to keep the civvies from freakin' out. I mean, so many people would totally lose their shit if they found out there was aliens," Fisher replied.

"Probably," Dalton agreed. "All right, shut up," he said as something pinged. "We're close enough to try for near-range comms." He activated his radio. "Gamma Four this is Sergeant Dalton of the Confederate Marine Corps, come back." He waited. Listened. Heard the occasional pop and the muted hum of an open channel. He tried again as they drew closer, repeating his message, but nothing came back to him.

Nothing at all.

"What's that mean?" Fisher whispered.

"Means we might have a bigger comms blackout than we thought, or maybe it's just bad luck and both of us are experiencing separate issues. It's not impossible," Dalton replied. "I want you two to focus up. Got it?"

"Yes, Sergeant," they both replied in a way that still kind of freaked him out. That conditioning could be plenty useful in a combat situation, but it was still disconcerting how much they could do with a human brain, with a personality.

In the distance, he caught sight of Gamma Four. He took his foot off the gas as he immediately picked up something off.

"Aw shit," he whispered when he hit the zoom function on his visor and realized that the front gate had been ripped open.

"Sergeant, what's going on?" Baker asked.

"Looks like they got attacked...everyone get ready. We're going in nice and slow."