“Cleff’s dead.”

Jason nearly stumbled. Which admittedly, wasn’t that hard to do, given that he’d practically limped his way here with the rest of the survivors of Underground Attack Group One.

What few there were.

He’d barely made it a few feet inside the metal fencing that delineated the outline of the Mining Nexus before Avilla had come striding up to him.

“Dead? How?” He turned to look at the plant woman who looked almost as rough as he felt.

The young lieutenant looked warily over his small group of stragglers as they limped inside the perimeter before turning back to him. “The Alliance pulled the same trick on us that we tried to pull on them. Only difference is, they succeeded.”

She deliberately glanced back toward the center of the base toward a plume of smoke that was wafting carelessly into the windy skies.

One of several.

“The cunts used a nearby cave system to get close before blowing a hole basically right out from under the MCV.” She paused thoughtfully. “…Though, credit where credit is due, the colonel didn’t take the unexpected invasion of her command unit lying down. From what I saw before the generator-core melted down, she and the other officers made a bloody mess of the first team into the commander center.”

Jason was barely listening, most of his mind was focused on the fact that Cleff was apparently dead.

Just like that? The thought came to him numbly. It just seemed so… anti-climactic? Wasn’t there supposed to be a big battle? One that he’d actually see? Epic last words and final blaze of glory? Not this… impersonal recounting.

“I thought we had sentries beneath us to guard against tunnelers?” His voice came out as more of a croak.

“We did.” The plant-woman emphasized the past-tense. “Unfortunately, the Edixi are apparently better infiltrators than our people are guards. First indication we got that anything was wrong was when the skies-damned ground opened up.”

Jason nodded slowly.

“Still not entirely sure whether they chose to retreat after the bloodbath in the MCV, or if we drove them off, but we’ve collapsed the tunnels beneath the facility.” She paused, as if in thought. “Which was something I suggested we do when we arrived at this dump, but you know how Cleff is - or was - never eager to close a possible avenue of attack if it meant it was a possible avenue for counter-attack.” She gestured to where his people had more or less sprawled out near the gate. “You know, despite the fact that she insisted on you using your blue friend’s tunnels as a means of egress instead, because they were better mapped.”

“By both the Ufrians and the Roaches, it seems,” Jason muttered bitterly, before his mind turned to the current situation. “So… what’s happening now?”

Avilla shrugged, her leaves rustling. “Now? Now we’re just waiting for the sharks to finally move in and finish us off.”

Jason stared up at her in disbelief, before glancing around the perimeter. “Doesn’t look like that to me. I still see plenty of friendly guns on the line.”

Avilla just scoffed, before lowering her voice. “Yeah, but do you see any tanks in the hard-points we dug out for them? No, because we burnt them all on a failed counter-attack.” Her eyes raked over his men. “And if my eyes don’t deceive me, the two platoons you left with have been reduced to – maybe – seven pods. Sans a major and two lieutenants.”

“They didn’t make it,” Jason answered the implied question.

Despite her blasé words, he didn’t miss the way Avilla stiffened at his words. Of course, then she continued, though with a voice that was just slightly rougher than before. “So yeah, we’re down from most of a regiment, to maybe half a regiment and change. We’ve also lost our colonel, and her second in command - and we’re still outnumbered three to one by an opponent that’s clearly got a technical edge on us.”

Jason moved to run a hand through his hair, before hissing in irritation as he realized he still had a spike sticking out of his arm.

“So, if we’re as fucked as you say,” he asked through gritted teeth, “why haven’t the Guppies come in to finish us off already?”

Avilla’s eyes remained on his new arm piercing for just a moment, before returning to his eyes. “Strategy. Apparently, back on their homeworld, the shark-gals liked to hunt by taking a big old bite out of their prey from ambush, and then letting it die of blood loss while attempting to swim away.”

“So they’re waiting for us to die of blood loss?”

“Well… more like they’re letting our morale dip as low as it’s going to get while they wait for dusk. They’ll attack either then or at dawn.”

Huh, they really are like sharks. I’m reasonably certain those are the times when swimmers have to be wary of shark attacks...

He nearly jumped out his skin as a muffled crump sounded off in the distance.

“Calm down,” Avilla said, as he half-clambered to his feet. “It’s not a real attack. Probably.”

“What is it then?” he grunted irritably as left-over adrenaline continued to course through him.

“Drones. Armed drones, admittedly, but just drones.” Avilla glanced at her omni-pad. “The sharks have been sending them over a few dozen at a time every few hours for a while now. We think they’re trying to get an idea of our force disposition and the layout of our defenses.”

Jason nodded slowly as he settled back down to dirt, letting out a long exhale as he did. Which seemed to be a signal to the other soldiers that had been with him to do the same. Not that he really noticed. His entire focus was currently on his own needs.

The most pressing of which was to lie down and hopefully not get up again for at least a day.

Funny, we still don’t know why they’re doing this, he thought. The Imperium and the Alliance could be at war right now and we wouldn’t have a clue.

He doubted it though. Raknos-Three was too far off the beaten track to be worth anything. Nor would the Guppies be bothering with even there paper thin disguise as mercenaries. So no, while Jason didn’t know the alien’s goals, he was sure it wasn’t the conventional taking of territory.

Raknos just… wasn’t worth it. To anyone – except perhaps the natives.

And maybe not even to them, he thought, given just how easily the Ufrian chief had suggested surrendering her people’s autonomy.

“So, I can’t help but notice, that doesn't look like a laser burn.”

Jason resisted the urge to shrug, for obvious reasons. “It’s some kind of harpoon. One that went right through my suit.”

He could only thank his lucky stars that the thing didn’t seem to be poison tipped. Well, he assumed it wasn’t poison tipped. Given that he wasn’t dead yet.

Besides I don’t see much point in a slow acting poison on the battlefield, he thought.

Then again, given what Avilla had just mentioned about Edixi hunting strategy, perhaps it would be wise for him to rethink that theory? He’d be making his way to the medical tent in a minute regardless, but that little detail only made it more of a priority.

Next to him, Avilla hummed. “Well, it seems they’re pulling all sorts of new tricks out of the bag today. The infiltration team had some kind of sonic weaponry.”

Jason just nodded disinterestedly. He’d be concerned later. Right now he just wanted to… rest his eyes.

“Hmmm…”

“And the tank company were talking about some kind of fusion weapon mounted on exos. Short range, but quite… deadly. Against both exos and our heavily armored tanks. Apparently it turned what might otherwise have been a close battle into a slaughter.”

That made Jason open his eyes. “You mean some of the tankers survived?”

Avilla looked surprised, flushing a deeper green. “Yeah, apparently Dobry managed to rally a few of his people and pulled out. Against orders. Cleff’s, given that she was still alive at the time.”

Jason nodded slowly. He supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised.

“Why didn’t Friska countermand him?”

Avilla smirked a little. “She tried. Before getting knocked unconscious by a ‘stray kinetic’.”

He resisted the urge to laugh at that.

Then Avilla’s features became far more serious. “Of course, now the whole things turned into a stand-off. MPs showed up to arrest Dobry, but the tankers were having none of it.” Her leaves shivered. “I think the only reason no ones started shooting is because the moment Friska woke up she started trying to mediate between the two groups.”

Jason cocked an eyebrow. The woman was trying to keep the peace after getting knocked out by one of her own people? That was either surprisingly understanding or dangerously pragmatic.

“I can’t help but notice that you sound pretty unconcerned by all this?”

Hell, the only reason he wasn’t freaking out was because he didn’t have the energy to. Given five minutes and a semi-decent meal, he’d be panicking like the rest of them.

The plant woman shrugged. “It’s not my problem. I’ve got plenty of those without worrying about those of my superiors. Gremp can sort out that disaster.”

Jason felt his heart rate spike a bit. “Gremp’s in charge?”

“Yes.” The plant woman shot him a sardonic look. “And it’s going about as well as you might imagine.”

He could imagine. He just really didn’t want to.

Which was a problem, because as much as this was Gremp’s problem, it was also his. That was the Champion’s job after all. Maintaining regimental morale. Mending any rifts that might form. Be they between officers and enlisted or disparate companies.

…And he had no idea how to go about doing that.

As if on cue, he looked over to see a Shil’vati Petty-Officer striding up to him. “Champion Jason, your orders from Acting-Colonel Gremp are to report to her immediately for debriefing and new assignment.”

Avilla took one look at the other woman before glancing back at him. “I’d report to the medical tent first to get yourself looked at.”

The woman sneered at the plant-woman. “The Colonels' orders were for the human to report to her. Now. Ma’am.”

That was the moment that Jason noticed the Shil’s accent. Upper crust. With a distinct aristocratic cut. More obviously, he realized she was wearing an exo-piloting suit. Which was essentially little different from a marine outfit, barring a few extra ports. Hence why he hadn’t noticed immediately.

Well, it seems that given the discord in the regiment, Gremp’s called in her people to act as ‘bully boys’, he thought tiredly.

Because of course she had.

Avilla glared at the woman. “Pilot, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the champion has a spike sticking out of his arm. He needs medical attention, not a grilling.”

The pilot was unmoved. “My – and by extension, his – orders are clear. He comes with me. Now.”

Avilla scowled, her leaves puffing up a dark red, before she suddenly wilted.

“Report to the medical tent when she’s done with you Jason.” With those final words, she marched off.

To be honest, Jason didn’t know why he was surprised at her sudden capitulation.

It wasn’t like they were friends. They were barely even colleagues.

Still, just because Avilla wasn’t about to defend him, didn’t mean he was about to go along with this.

“Yeah,” he muttered, standing up and dusting himself off as best he could with one arm. “I think I’ll have that meeting with medical before going to see Gremp.

“Your orders were to head there now.”

And they were semi-reasonable orders. In his time underground he might have uncovered valuable intel. And as visually off putting as his injury was, it wasn’t life threatening. His suit had seen to that.

Hell, it wasn’t even that painful. Though that might have been combat-stims and adrenaline talking.

The point was, he could afford to go meet Gremp before going to get it checked out.

…He just didn’t want to.

“Yeah, I’m sure it can wait five minutes.”

Predictably, the Shil didn’t like that. “Listen here, male…”

She surged forward clearly about to grab him, only to stop suddenly at the unmistakable whine of a weapon charging up. Followed by many more.

Given that he was just as surprised and alarmed by the sound as the Shil, Jason turned around with not a little haste. And was greeted by the sight of not just Nora and Yaro, but damn near the entirety of Underground Attack Group One, not quite aiming their weapons in the Shil’s direction.

Ah, good old human social dynamics, he thought.

“As I said.” He turned back to Shil, who was turning an interesting shade of lilac. “Give me a minute.”

The woman glanced back and forth between him and his people, before swearing something about ‘traitorous aliens’ and storming off.

“Are you ok, sir?” It was one of the marines who asked.

He resisted the urge to remind them that he wasn’t an officer. Not even close. He resisted it though.

“I’m fine.” For a given definition of the word. “I’d go report in with… whoever’s in charge of you now before she does though. We don’t want our esteemed leader to think she’s got a second mutiny on her hands.”

The people around him shuffled uncomfortably as if just realizing what they’d done. But they did as he said, making their way toward the barracks. Or the medical tent, as needed.

Which was good, because as much as he felt like suddenly throwing military discipline to the four winds on account of the regiment’s no doubt imminent demise, that didn’t mean he wanted everyone to do the same.

Which was probably for the better, because Yaro looked like she was having a mini internal freakout over what she’d just done. Nora just looked like she always did.

And he found he didn’t care. Which he supposed was in keeping with his character. It was well established that he had stopped giving a shit… about a lot of things, the moment he felt his ass was on the line.

And now it was very much on the line. He was going to die – along with everyone else here – unless some manner of miracle happened.

“How the fuck are we going to make it out of this alive?” He muttered.

He hadn’t expected an answer. Which was why he was so surprised when he received one.

“I might have an idea. For you. Not everyone else. And maybe a few of your friends.”

Jason wasn’t the only one whose head suddenly snapped around at the strongly accented Shil.

“Maybel,” he said slowly, taking in the familiar blue form of the Ufrian woman. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged. I walked in with the rest of your soldiers. I guess the gate guards didn’t notice me.”

Either she was lying, or that was an excellent example of just how quickly military discipline in the regiment was going to shit.

Maybel didn’t even look slightly like a marine. She looked like a Greek hoplite. If that Greek hoplite had breasts, red eyes and was bright blue.

Not that Jason cared even slightly about that. He was much more interested in something else.

“You said something about a way for us to save ourselves?” he asked.

-----------

Naturally, the moment Maybel laid out her plan, Yaro had refuted it.

Loudly.

“You can’t be serious?” The wolf woman whirled on him. “This is insanity. Ancestors, she might not even be telling the truth. This could just be a ruse to make off with a valuable male before the Edixi move in.”

Well, Jason couldn’t totally argue with the latter part, even if it stung his pride. He couldn’t deny that beyond him being male, his technical skills would be of value to the Ufrians if they could hide him from the Alliance and the Roaches.

Jason glanced over at Nora for her opinion, but the Scandinavian woman simply stood in silence.

Sighing, he turned back to Yaro. “Yes, it’s a risk. A big risk. But we’ve got to try.” He gestured around – with his left arm. “Because we can’t win this. If nothing changes, we’re all going to die here.”

“We might not!” Yaro shook her head. “We have the homeground advantage. We still have some tanks. Our losses are bad, but this situation might be recovered.”

He shook his head. “That’s unlikely at best, and even if we did pull off a conventional victory, how many people would live to see it?

“People dying is part of the job,” Yaro hissed. “You can’t save everyone!”

She took a step back. “This isn’t the Whisker, Jason. You can’t just go running off and doing your own thing in search of some kind of… ideal ending. Gremp isn’t Tisi. She will execute you if you try this.” She paused. “And she won’t be wrong to do it. A military needs to work together. Discipline alone is what allows it to function.”

Jason scoffed. “Did you hear what’s going down with our tankers? Not a lot of discipline to be had out here.”

Yaro whirled on him again. “Then reinstate it! That’s your role.”

“I can’t!”

Yaro almost jumped at the sudden shout. Not that he blamed her for that. He was a little surprised himself.

Just as he was surprised by the deluge of words that even as he thought, seemed to spill forth from him. “I don’t know how! Because I’ve got no training. No experience. Because I was shoved into this role because it was politically convenient. Because the Imperium is full of shit. Full of shitty people doing shitty jobs. Merit takes a backseat to backroom politics. So no, I can’t fix this.”

He looked away, his shouting reduced to a bitter muttering. “This isn’t destiny. I don’t have some secret talent inside of me. This is a shit situation that I don’t have the tools to rectify.”

Admittedly, perhaps some small part of him was searching for an out here. He wasn’t a brave man. Not in the conventional sense. Despite what people might believe, his actions had been more borne of desperation than bravery.

More to the point, He didn’t want to die on some insignificant mudball for an empire that he didn’t care for – and that didn’t care for him.

“…But if what Maybel is saying is true, I might have a shot. At really fixing all of this.”

Yaro sagged, before seemingly taking another tack. “Then take her to Gremp! Get her consent for this.”

“You think she’d agree? After I just sent her little goon packing.” He laughed. “She’d dismiss it out of hand even if she wasn’t already focused on getting Dobry and his people back under control.”

Yaro actually growled, stomping back and forth. Then she seemed to come to some kind of resolution. And with it, a certain sadness seemed to wash over her.

“Perhaps you’re right, Jason.” She stood up to her full intimidating height. “But that’s not your call to make. It’s Gremp’s. And she has the right to make it. So you’re going to meet with her. And you’re going to explain this plan of yours. One way or another.”

Jason's heart seemed to seize in his chest, as the wolf woman advanced on him.

“Don’t do this, Yaro.” He took a step back. Then another. And another.

He had no way of fighting her off with his arm out of commission. Hell, he didn’t know if he could fight her off if he were in peak condition.

“I’m sorry, Jason.” The woman seemed to wince at his words, but she didn’t stop her advance. “You leave me little choice. A pack cannot survive a lone operator. You need to trust the system to work. I will take you to Gremp and we will explain- Gah!”

Then she dropped, like a puppet with her strings cut.