He had to hand it to her, whatever her other faults, the Captain of the Gentle River was a rather discerning woman. She’d apparently sniffed out the truth in his bullshit with almost pathetic ease.

Not that doing so had likely been particularly hard. Between the pain meds for his arm wearing off and the general fatigue of the last few days piling up, he was guessing he’d failed pretty spectacularly at keeping his story straight. Or perhaps he’d just told the truth?

He didn’t know.

And the reason he didn’t know was that the events following his bombardment request were a bit of a blur. He vaguely recalled landing in the Gentle River’s hangar and he vaguely recalled being ‘escorted’ to the bridge by a pair of burly - if apologetic – marines.

From there, events got hazy. Perhaps as a result of pain, fatigue or the winning combination of both stimulants and painkillers in his blood. Either way, when he’d finally ‘come to’, he’d found himself sat in the Gentle River’s brig.

Which had been a little disappointing – if not entirely unexpected. Still, he couldn’t deny that some small part of him had almost been relieved to find himself there. After everything that had happened, Everything he’d been through, it was nice to officially have been taken off the board.

The fate of the regiment. The Ufrians. Yaro. Nora. Hell, even himself. It was all out of his hands. He’d done everything he could. More, even. Perhaps he hadn’t done everything ‘correctly,’ but no one could deny that he hadn’t given his all to save not just himself, but every life he could.

So with that in mind, an opportunity to just kick back and rest had been… gratifying.

…For a time, he thought grimly, drumming his feet against the side of his cot.

As the old saying went, too much of a good thing could only be bad, and after a week staring at the wall of his cell he was going just a bit stir crazy. Not least of all because no one would tell him what was going on. Had his actions saved the regiment? Was he too late? Was Yaro ok? Nora? Where was Maybel?

…Was Gremp still alive and organizing a firing squad for him?

Admittedly, that last one took up a majority of his pondering time.

Unfortunately for him, his guards seemed quite determined in keeping him in the dark. And the less said about the stern bosun who occasionally yanked him out of his cell so that he could reiterate his story for the umpteenth time, the better.

So no, things weren’t exactly going well for him.

But hey, at least I’m not dead, he thought. Because that was the only real alternative to all this crap.

He’d had to remind himself of that a few times over the last few days. That if he hadn’t done what he’d done, in all likelihood he’d have died days ago; along with every other Imperial on Raknos-Three.

He was just about to start yet another repetition of his rendition of Five Green Bottles – mostly to annoy the guards who stood outside the surprisingly low tech bars of his cell – when he heard the distinctive sound of the heavy duty security doors to the brig section opening.

“Come to hear my gripping tale of heroics once more, dear Bosun?” He called out. “Perhaps seeking new clarity on my opinion on the unlikelihood of the morphology of my dear colonel’s bosom?”

Perhaps some part of him should have felt bad about speaking of his dead commanding officer in such a way, but after being stuck in a prison cell for a week, he’d found he just didn’t give a shit. About a lot of things. Truth be told, his question was more a result of his ongoing attempts to get a rise out of the stony-faced woman who so often grilled him for details of his adventures on the planet’s surface.

“It was a little odd, wasn’t it? For her to have breasts, I mean.”

Jason’s eyes shot open, as he shifted from his upside down position to look at the owner of the all too familiar voice.

Friska stood just outside his cell, looking perhaps a little frazzled, but very much alive.

“Well, they were venom sacs, don’t you know?” he said, trying to feign nonchalance.

“Really?” The woman smiled. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Then the smile slipped away as she turned to the two guards stood outside his cell. “Both of you. Out. Now.”

The two glanced at each other, before the one on the left started speaking. “Ma’am, we were given orders to-”

“And I’ve got new orders from your captain here, overriding them.” She raised her data-pad. “I’ve got five minutes alone with my subordinate here without you chucklefucks listening in.”

The first guard frowned at that, but after a quick glance at the data-pad, obligingly left with her comrade in tow.

“Good,” Friska said as soon as the security doors swished shut. Jason went to say something, only for her to cut him off. “Ah, wait for me to get this out first.”

She pulled out what looked like some kind of pen, before clicking it six times in an odd sort of staccato. Satisfied, she put it back on her belt.

“What was that in aid of, ma’am?” he asked.

“White noise generator,” she shrugged. “So we can talk without the dear captain listening in.”

Despite all the other questions he wanted to ask – and there were many – this first thing out of his mouth was: “And why would you need to do that? Hell, why would you even have that?”

“To the latter, no good noble daughter leaves home without one. Better to have it and not need it, you know?” Friska grinned, before leaning in close. “To the former, well this conversation needs to be private if I’m to have any chance of convincing the chain of command that you were acting on Cleff’s orders when you chose to go AWOL.”

Jason could only stare in open mouthed surprise. Then the suspicion kicked in.

“And why would you do that?” he asked.

At that question a few emotions seemed to flash across the Shil’vati captain’s face. Surprise, irritation, then what he could almost swear was hurt.

“Well, aside from the fact that your actions probably saved my life – along with a good number of other peoples – I kind of thought we were friends. After a fashion.”

They were!? Jason had no idea what to say to that. So rather than try to untangle it, he chose to instead leap on the question that had been burning away inside his mind since he’d been slung into this cell.

“So the regiment survived? The Edixi pulled back?”

The look of hurt faded as her expression turned all business. “They did. Took the wind right out of the attackers sails when their command posts and logistics went up in smoke.”

Jason sighed in relief.

He’d known it had been a bit of a risk targeting the three Alliance’s regiment’s ‘base camps’ rather than the attackers themselves, but he’d been worried about hitting the Terran First as well if he’d gone for something more danger-close.”

Or I might have missed the Alliance troops entirely if they weren’t attacking when I sent out the order, he thought.

Because his plan had quite literally been a shot in the dark, given that he’d been using hours old targeting data for the bombardment. If the bulk of the Alliance regiments had moved during that time, they’d have been able to continue their assault on the Terran First at their leisure.

Sure, an orbital strike might have given them a little pause for thought, but he didn’t doubt they’d have recovered in short order once it became clear the fleet had fired ‘blind’. After all, one didn’t prosecute the kind of operation they’d been carrying out across the surface of Raknos-Three without some kind of tolerance for risk.

Of course, that tolerance for risk had also ultimately been the Alliance’s undoing. By choosing to engage in open warfare rather than the guerrilla actions the Roaches had been doing, they’d left themselves wide open to an attack from the fleet in orbit. Something they’d been relying on their new jamming tech and the planet’s weather system to protect themselves against.

And it would have worked if some crazy motherfucker hadn’t gotten wind of an old shuttle and then used it to deliver those firing solutions ‘by hand’, he thought.

“Yaro? Nora?” he asked.

“Fine,” Friska replied instantly, clearly having been expecting the question. “Gremp’s dead, which I get the feeling you’re not too torn up about.”

He felt a little awkward as she shuffled uncomfortably. He’d kind of figured, given that Friska was here and not the woman herself – and she wasn’t wrong. Still, he’d known for all their differing personalities, the two Shil’vati women had been friends after a fashion.

“Yeah, I thought as much,” she sighed.

“What happened after that?”

She shrugged. “On our end? Not much. Sure, we’d seen what had happened, but we were still pretty badly mauled by the fighting ourselves. Gremp was down. The regiment was in shambles. Deeps, we were down to fighting from building to building – most of which were on fire - when the horizon lit up.”

Jason nodded. He could well imagine that.

“I’ll just say that it was fortunate that your attack forced the Guppies to pull back. For a while there it was… bad.” She eyed him intensely as she spoke, genuine gratitude in her eyes. “So… thank you for that, Jason. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you.”

Which, of course, only served to make the man feel damn uncomfortable. Saving the regiment hadn’t been his primary objective after all. It had been incidental. Saving his own ass – and hopefully Yaro and Nora’s - had been his primary goal.

Fortunately for him, Friska chose to continue on with her story rather than dwell on praising him for actions he definitely didn’t feel deserved praise. “Even after the aquatic cunts pulled back though, we weren’t in any state to go anywhere.”

She leaned her head against the bars.

“Luckily for us, Cleff was still looking out for us from beyond the pyre. One of the skimmer scouts she sent out when all this shit went down made contact with the fleet. To hear them tell it, they’ve been playing tag with the Alliance and Roach forces around the funnel since this whole thing went down. Hell of a thing. Well, once the jamming dropped – courtesy of your bombardment – they called in an orbital strike on those assholes around the funnel. Wiped ‘em out in short order.

Jason nodded. Friska was right. That sounded like a hell of a story.

“From there it was just a matter of getting our people to limp to the nearest funnel so we could shuttle our way off that shithole. A feat which took nearly three days, given our situation.”

Jason cocked his head. Three days? That meant that he’d been rotting away in this cell for nearly four days with Friska likely on the same ship.

“Then why-”

She raised a hand, cutting him off.

“Which brings me to why I’m here – trying to save your life.” Her features twisted bitterly. “Or at least, keep you out of military prison.” She eyed him up and down, lips quirking slightly. “Though given your behavior over the past two weeks, I can’t help but wonder if you might be safer there?”

He frowned – even if he couldn’t exactly argue. Lord knew he’d certainly pondered the same thing himself.

His time in the military had just been one shitshow after another.

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” he muttered.

The returning grunt he received sounded far from convinced. Still, she chose to continue on with her breakdown of the situation rather than dwell on it. “The reason I’m only here now is that it took four days for me to finally strong arm the Gentle River’s captain into letting me see you.

His frown deepened. “Why’s she holding out on you?”

Friska shrugged once more. “If I were a betting woman – which I am – I’d say she’s trying to salvage something from this mess. After all, this entire campaign has been little more than shitshow from beginning to end. And while she didn’t exactly have many options otherwise, sitting around on her ass while two Imperial regiments were annihilated won’t exactly look good to the admiralty. So I’m willing to bet that she’s holding onto you because the scandal of the ‘Hero of Gurathu’ going AWOL may serve to overshadow her inaction – especially given that she was the one to ‘catch’ you.”

Well... shit.

While he didn’t think he was totally boned, given that even he could spot a few holes in the Captain’s story, that was certainly going to be inconvenient.

“So how’d you get in here then?” he asked. “If she’s trying to isolate me like you say?”

Friska scoffed. “Aside from the law being on my side as your commanding officer? I have a regiment of pissed off human marines on this ship. Including one very concerned rakiri. In the absence of law, they make for a very convincing argument to let me do as I please.”

Despite himself, he almost laughed at the thought of Friska threatening the Gentle River’s captain with violence if she didn’t get her way. He didn’t though. His focus was primarily on the fact that Yaro was apparently still looking out for him.

Sure, given the circumstances, his relationship status hadn’t exactly been his primary concern these last seven days – but he’d be lying if he claimed it hadn’t been a factor.

Truth be told, he had no idea where that relationship was going. It wasn’t even like he was mad at her. He understood where she’d been coming from after all, and he’d always known that Yaro bought wholeheartedly into the Imperial ideal. It had always been a point of contention between them, but never to the point where it had been a real issue.

Until it was.

He shook his head. He’d think about that later. Right now he had to focus on avoiding prison time or a firing squad.

Mostly…

“So… did you actually threaten the captain with a pissed off Rakiri?” he asked.

Friska smirked. “I didn’t not threaten her.”

“So-”

“So shut up.” She cut him off. “I’ve answered your questions, now you answer mine. They’re kind of important.” She leaned back. “Nora informed me of your plan – after the fact – so I’ve got the broad strokes, but I need to know the exact details if I’m going to convince anyone that you weren’t acting alone - and that all of this was sanctioned by Cleff. If you do, we can turn this from you being a dangerous maverick with no regard for authority into you being a fearless hero with tits of steel.”

Jason deliberately ignored the odd turn of phrase as he stared at her. “Well that might be a problem, given that I’ve kind of already confessed to the former.” He trailed off. “Maybe. I think. Because, truth be told, I can’t fucking remember what it was that I said.”

Rather than be put off, Friska surprised him by waving a hand absently. “The fact that you can’t remember what it was that you might have confessed to pretty much guarantees it’s inadmissible as evidence. Any half competent defence would just claim that you were delirious from your injuries.” She frowned darkly. “Which from the medical report I received, were quite extensive at the time of your ‘capture’.”

Jason felt like weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. “Really?”

“I promise.” She turned momentarily contemplative. “Even if I have to pull on my family name to make it so.”

He resisted the urge to frown at that, as he was unsubtly reminded of the fact that justice in the Imperium was more a matter of who you knew than anything else. And these days he couldn’t help but feel a little dirty that said system might end up working for him.

The last time he’d apathetically dabbled with that kind of thing he’d gotten involved with Hela…

More to the point, he thought.

While it struck him as more than a little paranoid to even consider it, he couldn’t help but wonder if all of this was just an attempt by Friska and the captain to entrap him. To wring some kind of confession from him now that he was lucid. Maybe the ‘jammer’ she’d put down was some kind of recording device?

After all, the Gentle River’s captain might not be the only one looking to salvage something from this whole debacle, he thought.

“Why say they were Cleff’s orders?” he asked finally. “Surely it’d be easier if you said you were the one to give the order. I’m sure it’d be a hell of a feather in your cap.”

The woman stared at him for a good few seconds, before cocking her head. “Feather?”

“It’s…” he shook his head. “Never mind. My point is, that it’d be a boon for your career if you were the one that gave the order to ‘save the day’.”

“Aside from the fact that you used Cleff’s codes for the bombardment order, rather than mine?” She shook her head. “I… think it would be better if Cleff gets the credit. It’s… what she would have wanted.”

He couldn’t deny that. The woman had been a glory hound through and through.

Yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to hold that against her. Sure, she’d been aggressive and proud, but she hadn’t been foolish or vain about it. The Terran First had flourished under her leadership – right up until they’d run into a scenario that was frankly, unwinnable.

At which point, she’d decided to go down swinging. And as much as he wanted to hate her for choosing that, he couldn’t.

Dear god, am I actually empathizing with those nutbars back on Earth that are still fighting for independence? He ran a tired hand across his face.

He used to think they were morons. Shit, he still did. Yet… after all this time. After all he’d been through. The shit he’d seen by those whose power so eclipsed his own.

He could understand.

That desire to spit and rage against the inevitable rather than just lie down and submit…

Friska was still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

“…Alright,” he said finally.

Sure, this might be a trap. A means to ensare him. But if he went down as a result of this, he could at least say he tried.

So he started to explain. From Maybel showing up after the failed ambush in the tunnels, to him falsifying Cleff’s digital signature in orbit.