“I honestly can’t believe it,” Aaron remarked to Allie, “The fact that he’s improved this much in just two weeks…”

“Yeah, it’s fucking insane. I knew he was stubborn as a mule, but this is something else.”

Tom vaulted over a wall of sandbags and landed in a combat roll. He smoothly rose to his feet and sprinted the last ten yards. As he came to a stop, he stumbled and his new right leg pushed him too far upwards. He pitched forward and fell straight onto his face.

“Maybe a little too stubborn,” Allie said.

The three of them were gathered at the small patch of dirt outside the main camp that served as the Red Eagles’ track and training obstacle course. There was a circle in the dirt to run on, some tires laid out to step through, and a few sandbags to jump over. At this point in the year, the ground was already hard from the cold, and the grass of the plains was yellowing.

The camp was set up in an area right between Interstate 76 and Interstate 70, north-east of Denver. It was smack dab in the middle of a massive old cornfield. The crop had rotted a while ago, and the trucks and hovertanks had flattened out what was left. The Red Eagles had been there much longer than usual because of the unknown Assimilator threat that was lurking to the north. Commander Berston had wanted to avoid as much contact with the Worms as possible while they moved up into Nebraska, and since nobody knew where the 10,000 strong Assimilator army was, he’d ordered the company to stop here until they were found.

Tom rolled off his face onto his back. Aaron walked over with Allie trailing behind him, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them. It was getting cold out here on the plains now. They’d already gotten their first snow earlier in the week, less than two days after their return from Denver. Only an inch or so, but snow this early meant there’d be much more later on. Aaron stuck out a hand, which Tom took gratefully, and pulled him off the ground.

Tom wore a slight frown as he tapped on the metal leg, “This is really annoying.”

“Shit, the multi-million-dollar custom prosthetic is annoying. Next time we’ll have Sam bring you a peg leg,” Allie said.

“Oh, ha ha. The leg isn’t annoying, it’s that I can’t get used to it.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, “I believe I just saw you hurdling a sandbag and sprinting. Or were my eyes deceiving me?”

His fingers were getting a bit numb, so he stuck his hands into the pockets of his uniform, which didn’t help much. They hadn’t received their winter dress yet, and the summer ones weren’t cutting it anymore.

“I was, but I had to think about it.” Tom started to stretch. He’d said earlier that the muscles in his left leg, not what remained of his right one, were what was bothering him the most. Apparently, they were overcompensating for the missing limb.

“Pardon?”

“When you run you don’t think about it, usually. I have to. It isn’t natural to me yet, I’m messing up my foot placement. That’s why I fell,” Tom grunted, reaching down to touch his toes, “I need to stop thinking about my leg as a prosthetic, but I can’t.”

“That makes sense, Sam told me the mental interface was designed so that you could use the leg like you’d use your old one.”

Allie piped up, “It’s fucking freezing, can we chat about this somewhere else? Rebecca asked us to meet her and Jackson in the canteen for lunch. Are you coming Tom?”

“Yeah. I’m not getting much done out here. I’ll have to talk to Katlyn about other exercises I can try.”

The dirt track was right outside the south entrance to the camp. A bored guard watched them from a short watchtower as they passed underneath. Aaron nodded at him and headed towards the center of the camp. Even though it was the middle of the day, there wasn’t much activity. The scouting teams were really the only ones that had anything to do right now. With the Red Eagles stuck in place, the vast majority of the 2,000 mercenaries were just waiting for the all-clear.

As they walked, Aaron made eye contact with Phil, a hovertank mechanic. He raised a hand in greeting, but Phil let his eyes slide off him and kept moving, barely breaking stride. Aaron lowered his hand slowly.

Allie groaned, “Shit. Looks like the Sam effect wore off already. I was counting on another couple weeks. The fuck did Jackson do this time?”

“You don’t know it was Jackson,” said Tom.

“I’ll eat Rebecca’s socks if it wasn’t.”

“Why Rebecca’s?”

“’Cause if I ate mine my feet would get cold. C’mon, let’s get to the canteen. I’ve got a bad feeling we’re going to be walking into some shit.”

The canteen was five mobile buildings all connected into one, able to house all 2,000 mercenaries with room to spare. On the outside, it was the same drab olive color as every other building in the Red Eagles camp, with solar cells covering the top of it. Aaron ducked into the entrance, slightly dreading what he’d find. To his relief, there wasn’t a brawl going on right then. The canteen was buzzing with voices and laughter, mercenaries sitting casually on the benched tables. Most of the Eagles gathered here these days; it was well heated and big enough for everyone to mingle.

He scanned the room and found Jackson and Rebecca a few seconds later. They were hard to miss, sitting in a corner with a couple tables of space separating them from the rest. He moved towards them and a chorus of whispers and hisses followed him, along with a few muttered curses. He ignored them, and as he approached his two squadmates, he saw Rebecca holding an icepack to Jackson’s eye, looking more than a little pissed off. She glanced up and a wash of relief came over her face as she saw them approach. Jackson looked away, firmly avoiding eye contact. Aaron sat in one of the empty seats, and examined Jackson. He had a split lip and a slowly forming black eye. A nasty bruise on the cheek, too.

“What happened?”

Rebecca opened her mouth but Jackson cut her off, “That bitch Kimberly from the 7th Assault was talking shit about me.”

Aaron cast a glance back, and found Kimberly sitting with her squad ten tables away. She looked a bit better than Jackson, but not by much. She’d have a hell of a shiner in the morning by the looks of it. Kimberly caught his glance and spat on the ground. She yelled something but it was lost in the din of the dining hall.

Aaron turned back to Rebecca, “What actually happened?”

Rebecca sighed and shook her head, “Kimberly called Tom a pathetic gimp and you a faggot… among other things.”

“Tell me.”

“Let’s see. Allie’s a delirious cunt, I’m a cock-hunting slut, Jackson’s a fucking retard.” She paused, “Hmm. Yeah, I think that’s about it.”

“The fuck does delirious cunt even mean?” Allie said.

“Ask her. On second thought, don’t. Nobody deserves to listen to that bitch speak.”

“What’s her problem?” Tom grumbled, “She’s the only one that goes out of her way to start things.”

Rebecca laughed, “Seriously? Aaron turned her down stone cold last month, remember?”

“Yeah, what’d he say again?” Allie said.

“’Fix your attitude, professionalism, hygiene, and intellect, and then someone might consider you. To be clear, I won’t, but perhaps someone else will.’” Rebecca quoted, “I have no idea what she was thinking asking Aaron out. She and Jackson get into shouting matches like every other week.”

“Enough. That wasn’t my best moment. I let my emotions get to me, and it won’t happen again. The same goes for you, Jackson. I appreciate you sticking up for the squad, but all she’s saying are empty words. We have to stay above all this pettiness. Am I clear?” Aaron looked directly at him, and Jackson met his gaze, and then broke away again.

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Good. Now, I don’t know about all of you, but I’m not thrilled about staying here right now. Let’s head out for now, come back in half an hour when things have settled down.”

Jackson snorted and stood up, stomping angrily towards the entrance. Tom shrugged and followed him. Aaron noticed that he was walking with a very slight limp. A larger ripple of whispered taunts and jeers followed them towards the exit. There was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see Rebecca staring at him reproachfully.

“You’re being a bit harsh on him. He only jumped at her when she started saying shit about you.”

Aaron sighed again, and gestured at Rebecca and Allie to follow him as he walked, “I know he’s protective of me. But he still can’t fight with other Eagles. That’ll just make things worse for him.”

“And us,” Allie muttered, “I mean seriously, I like the guy, he’s loyal as all hell and kinda dorky in that dumb little brother way. But I’m tired of being treated like a fucking pariah around here just because we’re squadmates with him. And no, I’m not hinting about leaving the squad, so don’t say a goddamned word Rebecca. It’d just be a hell of a lot easier if we could fly under the radar more.”

“Christ, I didn’t even open my mouth and you’re jumping down my throat. All I was going to do was point out that you weren’t exactly the belle of the ball before you joi- oh shit.”

Rebecca stopped and pointed across the canteen. Aaron saw Kimberly and Dawson, a hulking mercenary from the 7th Assault, stand up and head over to cut Jackson and Tom off before they got to the exit of the mess hall. He cursed internally and sped his pace up. Whatever they wanted, it wasn’t going to be pleasant for anybody.

He was halfway to them when Kimberly and Dawson reached Jackson and Tom. She said something and Jackson’s face twisted in anger, but Tom put a restraining hand on his shoulder. Jackson gave a stiff nod, and turned away. Aaron sighed with relief, but as Tom moved to follow Jackson, Dawson shared a grin with Kimberly and stuck out his foot, catching him on the prosthetic leg. Aaron watched Tom fall awkwardly to the ground, smashing his arm against one of the benches. Rebecca yelled something, but he couldn’t hear it over the blood pounding in his ears.

Dawson looked up as Aaron approached, a mocking glint in his eyes, “Looks like you better help out your little cripple friend, fa-“

Aaron kicked Dawson between his knee and his shin, causing the larger man to collapse with a sharp scream. He followed it up with a knee to the face, and felt the sickening crunch of bone breaking.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Kimberly yelped from next to him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aaron snarled at her. She backed away, eyes wide with fear. Dawson had turned away and was attempting to pull himself up on one of the tables. Aaron took a large stride forward and grabbed him by the back of his head, and slammed his face on the edge of table. He pulled him back up and smashed him down again, keeping his face pressed firmly against the table.

Dawson whimpered in pain, and Aaron drew up close to his ear and hissed into it, “Listen to me, Dawson. You can insult me. You can insult my team. But if you ever try to hurt one of them again, I swear that I’ll make what I’ve done to you today look like a papercut. Do you understand me?”

Dawson tried to nod, but his head was held too tightly.

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “Yes, I understand.”

Aaron released his grip, and Dawson slumped over, moaning. He looked over at Kimberly, who wore an expression of terror, “The same goes for you. And if you have a problem, come to me. Not my brother.” She nodded her head rapidly.

“Good. Now take Dawson to the field hospital. He’s going to have ligament damage in his leg, and his nose is shattered.”

Not waiting for a response, Aaron straightened out his uniform and faced his squad. Jackson had helped Tom up, and the rest of them were looking at him in mixed shock and awe. He motioned to them, and started walking towards the exit. Aaron noticed the absolute silence in the canteen for the first time. He closed his eyes briefly, and tried to rein in his anger. He hadn’t snapped like that in a long, long time.

The face full of cold autumn air as he walked out the canteen door calmed him considerably. He heard the squad filing out behind him, and braced himself for what came next.

“What the hell was that!?” Rebecca yelled.

“Seriously, what the fuck happened to not letting your emotions get the best of you?” Allie said, “I can’t say the bastard didn’t deserve it, but damn. I didn’t even know you could get angry. And your eyes… hell, that scared me.”

Aaron ignored them both and addressed Tom, “Are you alright?”

“Uh. Yeah, fine. I’m going to have a bruise… but I’m pretty sure Dawson is going to be in the hospital for a few weeks.”

“I know. I’m going to have to write a report to command,” Aaron said.

“About that… you might be able to do it in person.” Allie pointed to a Private jogging towards them, eyes locked on to Aaron.

“Wow. Gotta say their response time is fucking amazing.”

“It’s not for this, Rebecca. But I think I know what they want.” Aaron faced the Private as he came to a stop.

The man was slightly out of breath as he threw Aaron a salute, “Captain David. Commander Berston wants to see you in the command center.”

“Understood, Private.” Aaron looked down at the front of his uniform, speckled in blood, “But I’m going to have to change first.”

Aaron walked into the command center and snapped to attention.

“Commander Berston, I apologize for being late.”

The Commander looked away from the holomap briefly and waved him off, “At ease, Captain. I was looking over the maps anyway, but try not to let it happen again.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I heard about your little… incident with the 7th Assault Team. That’s not what we’re talking about today, so I won’t spend too much time on it. But you will be written up for it, I hope you understand.”

“Yes, sir.”

Commander Berston smiled slightly, “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what you did was so bad. The 7th had been getting out of hand, so it might’ve be good for them to be taken down a notch. But next time, let the MPs handle it.”

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

The Commander beckoned him over, and Aaron stepped up next to him, standing a respectful distance away. The holomap showed an area of Colorado which Aaron recognized immediately. He’d patrolled it for multiple weeks, after all.

“I called you here to talk to you about your report, Captain.”

“Yes, sir. The Assimilator behavior and the carrier in Denver were concerning –“

“Ah, no. Your report was quite thorough in describing those threats. I’m mostly curious about this ‘Camelot’ that our Paladin friend took you to afterwards. And please, relax and speak freely. This might be a long conversation, and hearing the word ‘sir’ every other sentence will become exhausting.”

Aaron resisted the urge to clench his hand. He’d known it was coming, even though he hoped it wasn’t.

“Of course. What in particular would you like to know about? Was my report inadequate?”

Commander Berston’s face creased into a very shallow frown, “Inadequate is indeed a good word to describe it. I must admit, the details in the report are a lacking, somewhat.”

“I’m very sorry Commander, we were only given access to a small area of the facility. Is there any place in particular you’d like me to expand on?”

“For now, walk me through everything from start to finish. I want to hear it from you directly, not through writing.”

For the next half hour, Aaron went through the mission from when Rebecca was hit by the Assimilator spike. He tried to emphasize the danger Rebecca had been in, stating that she would have died if Sam didn’t bring them back to Camelot. Commander Berston waved that part off, and urged him to continue. Aaron restrained a knot of worry in his stomach and kept going. When he began to talk about the secondary facility, the Commander leaned forward and stopped him.

“How many beds were in this medical bay, Captain?”

“Sir?”

“You said you saw a series of simulator rooms, and an expansive medical bay. How many beds were there?”

Aaron frowned, “I wasn’t paying much attention at the time. If I had to hazard a guess, around two hundred? Maybe more?”

“Sorry for the interruption. Please go on.” Berston leaned black, pleased. His mustache quirked upwards as he smiled.

The knot tightened, but Aaron forged ahead. He described Sam’s poor condition before he entered the medical-pod, and how Camille had led them back to the rooms in the main facility. He told the Commander that the doors had been locked, which prevented him from doing further reconnaissance. Aaron kept to himself the fact that he wouldn’t have, even if the doors had been unlocked. He was stopped again and asked about who was at the breakfast, specifically. Once Aaron told him, the Commander had the same satisfied look. He went on to speak about the reception Sam received in Sterling, and the flight back to the Red Eagles.

At the end of the debrief, Commander Berston stood up and strode over to the holomap. He looked back at Aaron, “How long, roughly, was your flight from this Camelot to Sterling?”

“Roughly… thirty minutes?”

“And the flight from Denver to the facility?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I was caring for Sergeant Cooper at the time and –“

“Give me your best guess, Captain”

Aaron paused and thought about it, “Maybe an hour. But again, I’m unsure.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine. I’m just trying to confirm that the area that you were patrolling was indeed close to this facility,” Commander Berston said distractedly, studying the map. The worry was reaching a breaking point, and Aaron was this close to breaking his respectful façade and asking what the Commander intended to do to Sam. Before he could, Commander Berston turned back to him.

“Remind me again. When did Sam estimate the Assimilator attack to be, and how did he come up with that number?”

“The initial estimate he gave us a week ago was that they’d be attacking two weeks from that day, so one week from today. However, three days ago, he told me that Dr. Camille Brown put together a new predictive model based on Assimilator assaults on small population centers during the war. That model placed the earliest attack thirteen days from today.”

Aaron was relieved. Maybe the Commander was finally taking the threat seriously enough to intervene. But that relief came crashing down a moment later.

“Excellent. That will provide a phenomenal opportunity for us.”

“What?” Aaron said stupidly, “I mean, excuse me sir, I don’t quite understand.”

Commander Berston looked at him with a critical eye, “It’s simple, really. This facility of theirs is clearly meant for a much larger group of people. That many hospital beds points to a capacity of ten thousand men, perhaps more. Our company would do very well based out of it. It would give us the opportunity to expand significantly, and would keep our soldiers much safer than they currently are.”

“Are you suggesting that we take it by force?”

“Ah. No, no. That would be a foolish choice, all things considered. Having read your squad’s report on the capabilities of this Paladin, there is no feasible way for us to win and come out intact. It would be far too easy for the man to simply drop into the command center from above and slaughter high command. No, this facility can only be taken if Mr. Lewis is removed from the equation entirely, preferably without our direct interference.”

“What… does that mean? Sir?”

“There is a very high chance that our Paladin friend will be killed in this upcoming conflict. No matter how powerful his machine is, one man cannot defeat 10,000 Assimilators. Once that happens, well, there isn’t much standing between us and this Camelot.”

Aaron felt queasy. “Camille Brown, the pilot Adelaide, and others might be in Camelot.”

“There are no others. Perhaps this ‘Adelaide’ does not exist either. A man such as Mr. Lewis wears his heart on his sleeve, and appears to lack any caution whatsoever. The people you saw at that breakfast are most likely the only ones alive in the facility.”

Commander Berston’s tone was calm and steady, but there was a hint of iron in it. Aaron had admired that once. The pragmatism. The ability to pull the seemingly obvious conclusion out of limited data. The lack of hesitation when making the tough call.

Now it made him sick.

“Does this mean your decision not to help Sterling is final, sir?”

“I believe I’ve made my position exceptionally clear, Captain. I will not, under any circumstance, commit my soldiers to that fool’s errand. I do not want to hear another word on the subject. Is that clear?”

“But you saved me,” Aaron said quietly.

“Yes. I did. I don’t like civilians dying, and if I am in the position to help, I will. I am not in that position right now, and I will not put myself in that position,” Commander Berston’s eyes softened, “If I must occupy the role of a villain to ensure that my people are as safe as possible, I will do so without regrets. It’s the least that I owe them.”

The Commander turned his eyes away from Aaron’s, and went back to studying the holomap.

“You are dismissed, Captain. Let me know immediately if Mr. Lewis contacts you. Our opportunity is coming soon.”

Aaron gave a crisp salute and began to walk towards the exit. But Commander Berston’s voice rang out behind me again.

“Captain David. Remember who took you in and gave you and your brother a home. Before you do anything you might regret, remember that, and the oath you took in front of the men and women that serve with you.”

Aaron sat outside the camp, leaning up against one of the sandbag walls. The sunsets out on the plains were not quite as nice as the ones in the foothills. Seeing the sun peak through the mountains was something else. But it wasn’t too bad out here. The sky still turned pink and orange. It was pretty.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, and exhaled the smoke, watching as it wafted upwards. It’d been a while since he’d been able to sit like this without anyone else around. There was always something he’d needed to be doing, some responsibility that needed to be addressed. A break was nice, every once in a while. A chance to think. A chance to stop being the squad leader of the 4th Scouts, even if it was only for a little.

“Damn it,” Aaron muttered and ran a hand roughly through his hair. He went to take another pull but it was already spent. He dropped the butt on the ground, where it joined another two. Aaron took his pack out of the uniform’s pocket and frowned. Only one left. Well, they’d lasted him these nine months. It had to end sometime.

The flame of his lighter flickered in the wind and he cursed lowly as the cigarette refused to light. The fluid was almost empty as well. He’d had the metal lighter since before the end, and it had held up well in the time after.

A hand holding another lighter entered his vision, and he turned in surprise to see Jackson crouching next to him. His left eye was purple and yellow, and the blood on his lip had crusted over. Aaron gratefully allowed him to light the cigarette, and leaned back against the sandbags. They sat in silence for a few minutes. A gust of wind caused Aaron to shiver, and Jackson tossed him a blanket he was holding under one arm.

“Thanks.”

Jackson grunted in response. Silence again.

“You can’t up and disappear like that.”

“Just needed some time.”

“Yeah, you haven’t moped like this in a while.”

“Can’t do it normally. They need me.”

“What uh... What’s the matter with you?” Jackson asked after a long pause.

Aaron laughed, “I appreciate the thought, but that’s not the most delicate way to ask.”

“Fuck you. I was trying to be nice and stuff. Now shut up and tell me. Or don’t. I don’t care, just tell someone.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make fun of you,” Aaron ran his hand through his hair again, “Commander’s not going to help Sterling.”

“Yeah, even I knew that.”

“Then what the hell is the point of me being here? I didn’t join the Eagles to be a mercenary.”

“You joined a freaking mercenary company. What else did you think you’d be?”

“A soldier. Like I was before.”

“Newsflash: there aren’t any soldiers anymore. Hell, there isn’t a country anymore.”

“What about Sam?”

“Sam’s an idiot.”

“At least he helps people.”

“Then go join up with him.”

Aaron laughed.

“That wasn’t a joke dude. I’m serious. He was looking for more people. If you want to help, ditch these dumbasses and go join.”

Aaron shook his head, “I’m not leaving the squad.”

“Squad will come with. They don’t give a shit about these people. The only reason they’re still here is you. That’s the only reason I’m here.” Jackson realized what he said and looked away, embarrassed.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Aaron frowned. “But I still don’t feel right leaving. I owe the Commander a lot. He saved us.”

Jackson looked at him like he was an idiot, “Y’know, people say I’m dumb. But sometimes you’re a real moron. He didn’t save us. He recruited us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you see the Commander take any of the townspeople into the Red Eagles? Ever? He only brought the guards with him. Yeah, he killed the Worms, but so what? He got twenty mercenaries for a few bullets.”

Aaron shook his head, “He’s a good man.”

“Not good enough for you, apparently.” Jackson stood up, “It’s getting dark and I’m freezing. You can keep moping out here, or you can get your ass off the ground and go inside. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

The glow from the clock next to his bunk told him that it was nearly three in the morning. Aaron groaned and rubbed his face. Jackson snored lightly in the bunk above him, and Tom was to his right. Aaron hadn’t fallen asleep, though. There were too many thoughts bouncing around in his head for his brain to shut off.

He’d run through most of the decisions that the Red Eagles had made in the past months. They’d intervened to help several small towns, but the attacking Worms had never numbered more than a couple hundred at most. Now that Jackson had pointed it out, he’d realized that the Eagles had recruited from every town they’d been to. Commander Berston himself had often made the pitch. But even if they had been recruiting, it didn’t change the fact that they had saved a lot of lives.

Most of the contracts they’d taken were escort missions or attacks on Assimilator patrols. They were paid mostly in food, sometimes in fuel or other commodities. There wasn’t anything particularly noble or ignoble in that; it was just making a living. Everyone had to eat, after all.

That was the issue he was struggling with. It was too neutral. There wasn’t one particular incident that Aaron could point to that the Red Eagles, as an organization, had done purely out of goodwill. How had he not noticed it before? How had he gone around spouting off about their goodness and charity without understanding a thing about them? Aaron covered his eyes. God. He’d even said all of that crap to Sam without a shred of irony.

Sam. There was another thing.

The Commander was actively rooting for him to die. Of everything else that’d happened, that revelation had been the most disturbing. Aaron had little doubt that Commander Berston would attempt to take Camelot in another way if Sam survived the upcoming battle. It was too attractive of a prize. Apparently, the fact that Sam had revealed his home to save Rebecca’s life didn’t count for anything.

Suddenly, a shrill noise erupted from the communicator that Aaron had left under his pillow, the one connected to Camelot. His heart dropped in fear. Why was he calling so late?

He pulled the communicator out and hooked it over his right ear, “Hello?”

“Aaron. Thank God,” Sam’s voice came through, filled with panic, “We were wrong. We were so fucking wrong.”

Tom and Jackson had woken up. Jackson groaned blearily, and Tom rolled off his bunk and stared at Aaron intensely.

“Calm down, Sam. What’s going on?”

He heard a few deep breaths over the line.

“The Assimilators. Sterling scouts spotted them moving towards the town. It’s not happening in two weeks. They’re attacking now.”

Aaron stood up and grabbed his holopad to send a message to Rebecca and Allie, then started to pace the tent. He had to assess the situation.

“Where are they attacking from, and how many of them are there?”

“They’re coming from the east of the town, the opposite goddamn direction of what we planned for. We don’t know the exact number. Probably ten thousand.” The whine of the Merlin’s engines could be heard softly in the background.

“What about your scanners?”

“Not operational. One more fucking day and we would’ve seen them coming. Look, that’s not important right now. Berston, is there any possibility he helps?”

Aaron hesitated, “No. None at all.”

“Fuck me,” Sam hissed. He took a moment to gather himself. “Alright. Alright. Fine. Us and Sterling can take care of this. We’ll just have to hold them at the river until Adelaide can save our asses.”

“Understood. Where do you want us to meet you?”

There was a long pause.

“Uh. What the hell are you talking about?”

Aaron began rifling through the trunk at the foot of his bed, trying to find something warm to wear under his uniform, “You’re on the way to the camp, right?”

“Are you fucking crazy? I’m not bringing you into this shit. Hell, I shouldn’t be bringing me into this shit.”

He froze. “What?”

“There’s no way I put you guys in that much danger. Adelaide and I are headed straight to Ster- shit, hold on a second.”

Sam stopped talking, but Aaron could still hear the Merlin and loud clanking sounds coming through the communicator. The flap to the tent opened, and Rebecca and Allie ducked in. Aaron motioned at them to sit down. Rebecca sat on the edge of Aaron’s bunk, and Allie sat next to her. Aaron stood in the middle of the room, still clutching the dull camo uniform in one hand.

“The fuck’s going on?” Allie asked him, “You just told us to meet you here.”

“Sam says the Assimilators are attacking Sterling.”

“I thought he said it’d be another two weeks!?”

Aaron shook his. “Their models were off I guess.”

Allie cursed loudly and Rebecca gripped the sheets tightly. From his bed, Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Aaron held up a finger.

Sam’s voice came through the communicator again, “I’ve gotta go, shit’s going south fast. See if you can get Berston. If he won’t do it for free, tell him to name his price. Call back on this channel and you’ll get through to Camille. I’m going to be occupied for a while.”

“Wait, Sam!” Aaron yelled, “Why won’t you let us help!?”

“Because five more people won’t make an ounce of difference here. I’m not taking my friends with me to watch them die.” The line cut out.

Aaron stared blankly at the inside of the trunk. He looked down at this hand and found that it was curled into a tight fist around his uniform.

“Aaron?”

“He’s going without us. Says we won’t make any difference.”

Tom’s face flashed between shock, outrage, then understanding in a few moments.

“It makes sense. We’d just be deadweight.” He hesitated, “Honestly, I don’t even know if this is our fight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve only been there once before. There’s really no way I’d even consider going if it wasn’t for Sam. Maybe before I would’ve but…” He rubbed his right thigh, “You remember what it was like in that Hive. It wouldn’t be anything compared to what’ll be at Sterling.”

Rebecca looked away, “Yeah. I get that. I… I’ve almost died once for that place. I’m not looking for a repeat experience. Especially if it won’t do anything in the end.”

“Yes. I suppose you do have a point,” Aaron said softly.

“Fuck that,” Jackson growled. He jumped out of the top bunk and landed heavily on the floor of the tent, “This is bullshit. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going. He needs us.”

Tom stared at him, “What are you talking about? What could you possible do that he can’t?”

“Think about it, idiot. How many civvies are they going to be evacuating, huh? You think the town is just going to wait around and get slaughtered?”

“I don’t really see how that changes anything. I’m sure they’ll have people coordinating that,” Aaron replied.

“Sure, whatever, but how many forward scouts do they have? How many escorts for evacuees? I bet my ass they don’t have any with our experience.”

“He’s got a point,” Allie said thoughtfully.

Aaron stared at Jackson for a second, then pressed the button on his communicator. A quick mental command sent the call back to Camelot.

Camille responded after a few rings, “Please tell me the Red Eagles agreed to help.”

“I’m truly sorry, but no.”

“Then why the hell are you calling? Sorry to be a dick, but we’re kinda busy out here.”

“I need to ask you something. What’s the plan for the evacuation of Sterling?”

Camille took a while to respond, “There isn’t much of one, frankly. We’ve started taking people to Fort Morgan in the south with trucks and any other vehicle that still moves, but it’s going to be slow getting nearly 8,000 civilians out.”

“Any escorts? Scouts? Anything at all?”

“Not enough. We need everyone we’ve got at the river. Why?”

“Can you put me in contact with Mary, or someone else in Sterling? I’ve got experience with this sort of thing, I might be able to offer some advice.”

Camille grunted, “Fine. I’ll transfer the coms channels to you. Look, I’m flying forty drones right now, so I can’t talk. Send me a message if you need anything else.”

The communicator went silent again, then a few seconds later there was a soft ping announcing the arrival of data. Aaron looked around the room.

“Before I make this call, we need to talk about what we do with the information we get.”

“Pretty fucking obvious, we go help.”

“It’s not that simple, Jackson. If they say they need us, and we go through with it, we won’t be able to come back here.”

“What?”

“The Red Eagles don’t look too kindly at disobeying orders and desertion, dumbass,” Allie told him.

“Exactly. Going to Sterling at this point is the same as breaking ties with the company completely.”

The tent went quiet as everyone absorbed that. Tom started tapping his finger against his metal leg. Aaron broke the silence.

“This is a decision we all have to agree on. I want to hear everyone’s thoughts on this. We know Jackson’s position. How about you Allie?”

She rolled the sheet between her fingers, “I don’t know. I mean, even if we get kicked out Sam’s going to let us stay in Camelot. I can’t imagine he’d fuck us over like that. And it’s not like I have any attachment to this place. If I hadn’t met you guys I would’ve left already. But that fucking many Worms is just…” Allie clenched the sheets, “You know what, fuck it. Better there than here. At least the people we know out there aren’t all assholes.”

Aaron looked at Tom, who shrugged, “If we stay out of the main fight and just help evacuate, I’m okay with it. I still owe Sam.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Rebecca. She bit her lip.

“I want to say yes… but I mean, Sam was right. Even if we did rush over to Sterling, we couldn’t do much. This evacuation thing is just a way of making ourselves feel better. I think we did our fair share in Denver, and then some.”

Aaron had to admit that she had a good point. It would take a minimum of three hours by scout car to reach Sterling. The evacuation might be nearly over by that point. If they stuck to what he told Camille in the first place, giving advice to Sterling on how to evacuate, it could be more useful. It could even be taken further: if they had access to Camelot’s satellite feeds, they could help direct the battle and evacuation from on-high.

Rebecca continued, “That being said… We should still consider leaving the Red Eagles.”

Tom cocked his head, “Can’t say I’m following the logic.”

“Sam’s not going to get himself killed in Sterling. The jackass has the craziest luck I’ve ever seen. When this is over, I think we should join up with him. I don’t know about you guys, but living in an impenetrable bunker and running around in invincible mechs sounds like a much better deal than being here.”

Jackson growled at her, “So you want to skip right past the hard stuff and get the reward at the end, huh?”

“Uh. Yeah, I do. Put me in one of those Paladins and I’ll fight. Until then, I’m staying as far away from the Worms as possible.”

Aaron was about to respond, but what he saw over Rebecca’s shoulder froze the words in his mouth and made his heart stop.

“That is an excellent point, Sergeant Cooper,” Commander Berston said as he stepped into the tent, "Very pragmatic."