He made his way across the road, enjoying the way the concrete felt under his feet. It had taken a lot of work to dig out the foundations given his reluctance to rely on modern technology. It had taken him months to finish the chore as he tackled it in parts, giving his muscles the rest they needed. Superhuman he may be, but it had not been a light chore, especially since he had started from the top, cutting through the Wall only at the very end to keep people from stumbling into him. He laughed as he recalled the frequent attempts of his not-yet wife to chase after him, but even when he was ferrying the Rebar up she was no match for him. She had become increasingly tenacious and determined in her attempts to chase him and he had taken a strange delight in leading her astray. Their constant game of hunter and prey with the roles rapidly switching depending on his mood, had brought them considerably closer. She had later confided him that it had been the most pleasant way of courting she had ever experienced.

He stomped on the flat road, feeling proud of his handiwork. He had created something, not a thing he was used to. His house, his relationship, the farm. All things he had made with his own hands. For the first time in his long life he had created something without destroying. It even served the purpose to create more! He had built things before, but everything had served the purpose to destroy, kill or otherwise inflict horrible damage to demoralise what-ever he was fighting at the time. Even the adjustments he made that were purely defensive in nature still carried the unspoken purpose of keeping him and his allies alive so they could do more damage instead.

All in all he was in a reasonably good mood, which was a delightful thing of itself as his usual state of existence was neutral. Taking care of the animals had calmed his nerves and even with their house holding a guest that he personally found rather unwelcome, he trusted Onoelle when she said that it was for the best and suffering to improve was a common thing to him. His wife took great pains to see him grow emotionally and he knew that she denied herself a lot in the process. While her father had been rather cold towards him, especially at the beginning, her mother had been a lot more forthcoming, partially thanks to the adoration that young Cassy, his sister-in-law, felt for him. She had taken his silence and awkwardness as a challenge to her hospitality. When he was first bombarded with it, his mind had compared the gentle, elderly woman with an artillery barrage. She somehow managed to be everywhere at once. She had told him many things that Onoelle had successfully hid from him. Despite the ease which with he could read her, it availed him little when the language her secrets were written in could not be translated. Without a reference point, the very thing she was slowly teaching him, he was lost.

Hence he knew that just as he struggled to adjust to a civilian life, to become a human rather than a Genesis soldier, so did his wife suffer alongside him, putting aside her own many ambitions, dreams and desires to stay with him and help him develop. In turn he adored her for it, aiding her where possible and trying to keep her happy without killing anyone.

Still he steeled his nerves as he approached his house. It was one thing to be alone with her. His senses were always active and he was so used to her that she had become a known quantity and her presence comforted him, the same way his equipment used to do. Her absence was worrying, no matter how brief. Where normal soldiers were taught to treat their weapons like their wives, he had to learn the exact opposite. He pushed down the traitorous, warlike thought that a rifle was more useful and more reliable when the soft sound of flesh hitting wood reached him. Followed by a scream that was clearly Jane's.

By the time his mind had analysed the tone of the scream and just how much and, more importantly, how hard the flesh had hit the wood, he was already at the door and only a monumental display of willpower kept him from reducing the door to splinters. It had been quite a hard blow, and while Onoelle's voice was panicky, it lacked fear, which told him that nothing bad had happened.

He told that himself that lie two more times before he opened the door, noticing too late that he was gripping the handle so hard that he was leaving imprints in the metal. Dammit.

He pushed open the door without a sound and found his wife hovering over a downed Jane. The former displayed panic and the latter sported a large bruise that was rapidly turning a mixture of blue, black and purple. Given that she had bounced off the head of the bed, that didn't really surprise him. The weapon of the crime lay a bit beyond the two, visibly damaged. The pillowcase sported a large tear. Mentuc was vaguely aware that he should be bothered by that, but given that the conscious part of his mind was focused on the two women his analytical subconscious took over, classified it as non-mission critical equipment and simply noted it as part of the environment.

The scent of adrenalin mixed with the smell of sweat, as well as the sour stink of panic that wafted of his wife reached his nostrils. Just what had happened here?

'By the stars Jane! I'm sorry! Stay still I'll get ice! I really didn't mean to!' Onoelle cleared her feet from the fallen Jane, turned, screamed and fell on Jane. Her friend jumped up from the sudden impact, banged the back of her head on the bed again and cursed in pain. Then she started shouting at his wife, opened her eyes and screamed again, which was a fair thing to do, he realised a bit too late, as he had rushed over in order to pick up her wife. People reacted badly to large objects, animate or inanimate, appearing in front of them without warning. He knew that. It had simply become a lower priority objective. His wife's safety was much more important.

'Mentuc you utter arse!' she shouted, venting her anger at him before her own mind kicked in, the fury in her eyes evaporating instantly and worry taking its place. She knew he had heard the scream and that his fight instinct was active. It was written all over his body language, in subtle tells that only she could recognise. He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by a surprisingly aggressive kiss.

'Put me down. I need to get some ice for that bruise.'

He obliged her. 'What happened?' he asked as she stormed down the stairs and disappeared into the cellar.

'Pillow fight gone wrong!' she shouted back. He heard something fall over, followed by loud curses.

'I assume fighting with pillows is supposed to be similar to the play fights?' He still didn't fully grasp the concept of a playful fight. You fought to kill, to survive or to train. Playing really did not enter the equation. Not to him at least.

'You utter blasted— Yes!' she snapped as she emerged from the cellar, sporting a black spot on her knee and carrying a pack of ice. The pain had returned the anger to her eyes. It made them shine with life. He found it attractive, although he knew better than to voice that. It would cause her more anger. How something meant to be a compliment could invoke anger was something he still did not understand, despite her repeated attempts at explaining it. Then again compliments had never been his strong suit.

He cleared the way for her, letting Onoelle blaze past him and press the ice pack onto Jane's cheek, causing the other woman to hiss.

'I'm so sorry Jane!' Onoelle repeated, the panic returning.

It clicked for him.

'She is hurt,' he stated, earning him a blazing look from Onoelle.

'I know that!' his wife hissed. Unreasonably so.

'Hurt,' he repeated. 'Not damaged. She is not concussed, isn't suffering from internal bleeding. She is merely bruised and while no doubt painful that is the extent of the damage you did.'

He knelt next to her. 'Still,' he admired. 'You did well given that you were only armed with a pillow.'

Jane's eyes went wide in surprise and shock as she glanced back and forth between him and his wife, who was making inarticulate sounds that made him suspect she wanted to strangle him.

Clearly he was missing some contextual clue. She had hurt Jane without damaging her. Wasn't that the goal of a play fight? Stars above, normal humans were complicated at times.

He picked up Jane and put her down on the bed and was reminded of the last time he had carried someone like this. It had been one of his brothers. He had died shortly after that. It had not been a good death. In comparison, Jane wasn't that bad off and said so as such, further incurring Onoelle's displeasure.

'She's alive,' he snapped, bitterness adding a dark note to his voice. He felt the memories flood back. Death. Destruction. Blood everywhere. People screaming as panic ensued, his team desperately trying to hold their ground, to coordinate their defences even as they were being overrun. Small arms fire pinging off their armour, flames and debris raining all around them.

He never noticed exiting the house, nor that he left the door hanging off its hinges. Onoelle ran after him, shouting his name.

Shouting his name. He looked up and saw the shell approaching him. His Muninn had painted the target and he acted on instinct, his body infinitely faster than his mind. Line up, stabilise, pull the trigger. His shot collided with the shell, the fast moving laser made to intercept artillery fire and burn through the metal protecting the explosive cargo. It exploded and a light shockwave passed over them, doing no harm to the heavily armoured Genesis soldiers. He turned around, the armament sliding back into his arm as the armour plates moved to cover it. He turned to the ground based targets and opened fire, calling out orders to his few human allies as they fell back as orderly as possible. More humans fell. Targets as well, it didn't matter. He let out a final burst as the last of his team finally reached the relative safety of a massive pile of debris and went over it. He ran after them, the worry that they'd all die, that he'd fail, fading, when a sniper managed to hit Lurker's armour just right. It tore through his chest plates, shield long since depleted and the man went down. He screamed, ran after him, felt more projectiles slide off his armour. He bent low, scooped him up with both arms as the rest of his team provided covering fire. He jumped, planning to clear the pile of debris in one go, his back shielding his heavily bleeding brother. Something massive crashed into him at the last moment and he lost his hold on his brother. He turned to face it, the Berserker Gland activating under the stress, to deal with it, kill it and—

'Mentuc!'

He was violently catapulted out of the memory and was surprised to find himself on his knees, to feel hot tears running down his face in broad streams.

'Mentuc,' came the voice again, much softer this time, sadder, sharing in his pain.

Onoelle. His wife.

She came closer, slowly, as if she was afraid of him. He spotted the mauled door a good distance behind her. It was only normal. He wasn't human. Stars, what was he even playing at? He only existed to kill, to destroy, to—

'I promised, remember?' she asked, her voice unwavering as she picked up speed.

'I am not afraid of you,' she whispered. 'I promised you that.'

He remembered.'

'Yes,' he replied. 'You did.'

She came closer and threw her arms around him.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

He didn't know what she was sorry for. These were his memories. His actions and his past. He could not voice those words though, the moment her arms were around him, he could only reciprocate and cling to her, squeezing her more tightly than he should but no more able to stop it than he could will his arms to cease trembling. She bore it stoically, continuing to care for him.

It took him several long, painful minutes before the sharp, raw memories returned to their usual dull, dormant state and he was back to something that resembled his usual self. He opened his mouth to speak but Onoelle shushed him by pressing her finger on his lips.

'Not a word,' she whispered, silencing his thanks. She plucked the sunglasses off him and looked into his eyes, unfazed by what she saw there. She moved her hand and grasped his, then placed her second one on top of it. She tapped her ring against his.

'In good days and bad,' she repeated, reminding him of the promise, the oath that bound the two of them.

'Yes,' he repeated. Then he hugged her.

They stayed like that for a while longer, before Onoelle broke it off.

'You are more emotional,' she said lightly, a soft smile adorning her gentle face.

'Yes,' he mutely answered, not really happy with the type of emotions.

'Hush you,' she read his mind. 'Any emotion is a step forward.'

'I'm sorry,' he tried to change tack.

'So am I.'

'You didn't break the door,' he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, but gave him a grin. 'And you didn't push your other half into a PTSD flashback after beating up your friend. Which, for the record!' she hastily added 'Is not the goal of playfighting!'

He gave her a serious nod. 'I'll learn,' he promised.

'I know,' she purred, entangling herself deeper into his arms. 'You're good at that,' she complimented.

'Yes,' he heard himself say. 'I am.'

'Sir!' saluted the Genesis soldier. Eisel saluted back, his new badge of office proudly displayed on his chest. He had seen the soldier's eyes look at it briefly and it had changed the way he moved. He went from greeting a doctor, part of the military but ultimately not one of the military to saluting a superior in one smooth movement. The transition had been perfect and fluid. Just the way he had made them to be. X-12845623 was out of his armour, which was being repaired, wearing nothing but army briefs and a too tight, white shirt. His muscles were highlighted because of them and even though the men and women manning this station were highly professional, the sight of the Genesis soldiers walking down the hallways had earned them more than a few catcalls, worsened by a lack of adequately sized clothes for them. Apparently the major in charge of logistics had assumed this operation would have failed and had only procured a token amount instead. Verloff had become aware of this and had stomped past his office not too long ago, no doubt going to have the man's hide.

'At ease, X-12845623. Treat me like I'm a doctor still, not a superior. Consider that an order.' Doctor Eisel knew better than to make suggestions. His soldiers, now really his own, did not take well to those. They dealt with certainties and orders gave them that. No need for specifics, they'd fill in those gaps on their own, but their objectives needed to be clear.

He took his time to look at the man in front of him. If the wounds he had incurred troubled him, he did not show it. Impressive on paper and in theory. Far more so in practise.

'As a matter of fact, spread the order amongst the rest of the unit. If we're not in the presence of other military personnel, I remain Doctor rather than General.'

'Yes sir,' came the immediate response, the supersoldier moving to stand at ease.

Eisel went back to sit behind his desk and motioned for the man to do the same. In the blink of an eye X-12845623 had gone from standing up to sitting on the reinforced chair. A smile escaped Eisel's lips. Many people were still freaked out by their unnatural speed. To him, however, it was a point of personal pride.

'I read your report. I assume you've come to ask about two things?' he guessed.

'No sir. Four things.'

'Oh?' It was rare for joù to be wrong about things. Very rare. He felt a flash of irritation well up. He hated being wrong. At his level he could not afford to be wrong. Not for himself, but for the Empire. He was too high up the hierarchy and any errors on his part would have massive consequences. Especially if they were related to Project Genesis. Those children were too important for the Empire to allow anything to go wrong.

'Summarise and report in order of ascending urgency.'

'Unknown instinctive reaction in response to large threat levels and physical damage resulting in near-expiry as a consequence of a loss of tactical sense.'

'Close combat, right?'

'Yes sir.'

'Continue.'

The supersoldier paused for a brief moment, clearly struggling to form the right words. Given the speed their minds worked at, this spoke volumes.

'Tactical sense was overridden in favour of protecting allies,' he reported in the end. 'It lead to loss of operational integrity.'

Eisel nodded. He had expected these two.

'Level of allied performance was low. Partially caused by an imbalance between wielded equipment and constitution of the enemy, partially caused by a lack of skill.'

Eisel was suddenly very happy that the Admiral was not in earshot. The difference between the 74th and the other Special Forces units, each of them the very best of what humanity could naturally achieve, and the soldiers from Project Genesis, the very best of what humanity could actually achieve, was heaven and earth. That little barbed comment would require further explanation. It would come, in due time, so he nodded and waited for the last point to be listed.

'Levels of cooperation between our unit and our allies were unacceptable.'

Eisel blinked in surprise at that. The Genesis soldiers were supposed to be a standalone unit, eventually formed into a minor army of their own with their own sub-units. The Svalinn was only the first step in that. More armours were being designed and tested, adjusted as after action reports came in and provided him and his cadre of scientists with more live data. The Genesis soldiers had been raised on the idea that other units would simply be there, without them being a valuable addition. The difference in skill was simply too great and would only grow as they gathered experience and their equipment was improved upon. They had not been trained with the idea of inter-unit cooperation in mind and should not have cared for the idea.

'Let's start with the first, shall we?' There was no need to hold the conversation casually. The being in front of him was part of an army of sentient weapons. They were living, but not really alive in the sense another human was. They lived only to fight and win. And preferably not die in the process. This one was possibly the sole exception. The only one who broke his predictions and confused both his brethren as well as his supervisors. Yet even he didn't need the social impulses other humans did. All the Genesis soldiers needed was a goal. Something to fight. And they would pursue that goal with a single mindedness devoid of emotion.

'What happened to you was the activation of what I named the Berserker Gland. It is a last-ditch effort of your body that only comes active when it feels itself threatened, quite similar to how adrenaline functions in normal humans. You had suffered a major wound in a delicate situation and your body reacted accordingly. While it is true that you indeed lost your sense for the tactical flow of the battle, it is my belief you could, theoretically, eventually learn to control it. It cannot, however, be artificially recreated. The damage you need to take before it activates is too severe and in an artificial environment the necessary mental stimuli would be lacking as well. In the field, you will either encounter it and learn to master it, or die. Do not let it be the latter,' he coldly added. 'You are far too expensive and valuable for that.'

'Sir,' was all X-12845623 said.

'To give you a short summary about how it works: the gland boosts nearly everything; reaction speed, perception, your physical output. The positive side of it is that your normal limits fall by the wayside and you can exert enormous strength at ridiculous speed, as you have experienced. Your tactile awareness increases by several factors and your pain tolerance skyrockets. The downside of it is that you burn through calories at a dangerously high rate. You also discovered that you damage your own muscles in the process. You ignore the limits nature imposes on us. You exert more strength than your own body can handle. Not to mention that any higher cognitive functions simply shut off, hence why you abandoned your tactical sense. As the name implies you transform into a berserker, only interested in eliminating any and all threats. It is a dangerous thing, but I believe that overal it is more useful than detrimental.'

He arched an eyebrow. 'Do you believe that the gland was a worthwhile addition?' Theoretical knowledge was good and useful, but it could not beat the perspective that the troops wielding it had.

'Sir, at present I think so. It allowed me to buy the necessary time for reinforcements to arrive without further loss of personnel.'

'As opposed to normal combat?'

'Yes sir. We would not have held our ground and would have been forced into cover, only to be overwhelmed as a result. The reinforcements would have saved Grey Platoon, but there likely would have been fatalities amongst us due to the enemy fire. They had not expected to be engaged in close combat and it threw them off balance.'

'Why did you not engage them in close combat earlier then? You have been extensively trained in it and the four of you would have been able to go toe to toe with the enemy.'

'We would not have survived the approach sir.'

X-12845623 didn't elaborate on it and Eisel frowned. 'Elaborate.'

'The Kra'lagh are trained soldiers. They respond reasonably quickly to a changing tactical situation.'

Eisel nodded, following the supersoldier's thoughts. 'As opposed to a lone man charging across the ceiling, which took even your allies off guard. The other soldiers kept firing at them, which gave them the brief pause you needed to close the distance.'

X-12845623 didn't reply, giving Eisel the confirmation he needed.

'So a worthwhile addition then?'

'Yes sir.'

Eisel sighed in relief. The Berserker Gland had been a gamble, one the Empire could ill afford to lose. Nobody knew how daunting Project Genesis had been. They were not mass produced; each of them was the work of dozens of hours of painstakingly hunting their genomes for any mistakes or deviations as he tuned them, personally, for perfection. Sure he had a team working with him who had done their own fair share of work, but the final check up had been his responsibility and his alone. Nobody else shared his level of expertise, or genius. A fact that brought him both pride and sorrow. What wouldn't the Empire be able to create if there were more like him?

Add the sheer amount of personnel required, the downright ludicrous amount of resources that had gone into Genesis Project... No. The Project was not going to be repeated any time soon. They could not afford it. Neither in terms of personnel nor in terms of finances. The military couldn't spare the men and the Empire could not afford to hand even more power to the Houses. It had not been an exaggeration when the Admiral had said they costed a Battleship each.

He looked past X-12845623 , past the walls of metal that encased the installation and separated him from hard vacuum, seeing the large Kra'lagh fleet that was being stormed by thousands of researchers.

It had been worth it.

'I am more curious about the second issue. I will be honest with you, X-12845623, I do not have an explanation. By all means, you should not have blocked those shots. You should have let the soldier die. You survived by luck.' The scientist spoke the word with distaste. The very concept of luck was akin to heresy for him.

'It turned out well in the end, however. He was kept alive and so were you. The damage to you and your armour is inconsequential in that regard. But I still wish to know. Why? You should have let him die. You even wrote in your report that you had no intention of saving him. So why did you?' Eisel's voice was not accusing. The Genesis soldiers simply did not respond to that. It was pure curiosity. He had made this man. Created him from nothing and he had seen him evolve from a smattering of cells to the powerful being in front of him.

'I do not know, Doctor. It concerns me.'

Of course it did. It affected, what were his words again? Ah yes, operational integrity. If he could not be sure of his reactions he might fail the expectations of his brothers at a crucial point. A very valid concern for a sentient weapon. 'I shall run a string of tests on you. Report to my lab...' He tapped away on his datapad to see what he could delay or cancel to create an opening for this.

'In two days. seventeen-hundred twenty-five.'

'Yes sir.'

'Now elaborate. What do you mean with lack of skill?'

'Sir, at multiple occasions I saw them switch targets after one of their own had been killed, in order to eliminate the enemy responsible. Stress levels caused them to fumble at critical points, slowing down their reactions. They failed to communicate properly when their positions were being overrun, creating a situation where our reinforcements arrived past the most opportune time. They were not thoroughly informed their objectives and often tried to keep pace with us, despite that they visibly lacked the skill to do so and I personally told them that the objectives given to them were untenable. Sir, they were told to act as our support. They are not capable of that. Even during the battle of the bridge they hardly managed to even slow down the enemy.'

Yes, Eisel concluded, it was very good that Admiral Verloff was not present.

'Continue,' he said. 'Your comment has been noted.' It seemed to satisfy the supersoldier.

'Sir?'

'Elaborate on your last point.'

'Yes sir. The levels of cooperation between our units was damagingly low. If we can raise this we can heighten our levels of cooperation and general unit cohesion we can improve our efficiency. Joint unit training can make the different units more aware of each other's abilities. Damaged units could be integrated into others with less issue, allowing the survivors to carry on for longer. Communication and situational awareness on the whole can be improved significantly. We could employ other units more efficiently and jointly.'

'Joint unit training?'

'Yes sir. I believe that would be the most efficient way to heighten the levels of cooperation and bring them up to acceptable levels.'

Eisel folded his hands and gave the supersoldier in front of him a curious look. That was a remarkable suggestion coming from a sentient weapon that wasn't designed that way. The scientist in him was wondering what had caused this and wanted to take X-12845623 apart, if just a bit, to see if he could find out more. The Imperial General in him, however, laughed that notion away. What he personally wanted was inconsequential. What the Empire needed was what mattered. Everything X-12845623 had mentioned was true and would improve the overall effectiveness of the military.

'Walk with me.'

The supersoldier jumped to attention, still moving at blistering speeds. They could not do otherwise, another thing that separated them from normal humans. Eisel locked his computer and got up, much more slowly. He wasn't the most fit of humans in the first place, although he had tried to stay at least somewhat in shape.

'Next to me. I hate talking behind me,' he added. The supersoldier obeyed.

'All of you will be given rank. You and your brethren will become the Genesis Battalion under my direct command, and we shall be placed under the command of Admiral Verloff. None of you will be below sergeant. I do not want a dull idiot barking orders at you. If that happens you are free to ignore them.' He was tempted to say that they could make the idiot eat his stripes. They would take that literally though. He found himself looking forward to the first time a superior officer commanded one of them and gave them such an order. No doubt the results of that would be thoroughly entertaining.

'You, however, I plan to grant the rank of lieutenant.'

They exited his office and he locked it. It was quite redundant given that the station was occupied by only three types of people. Special forces, scientists and researchers with the highest levels of clearance and soldiers of Project Genesis. There was no cleaning crew, no mechanics, no cooks. Every support role was performed by humans who were honestly horribly overqualified for those tasks. It did work wonders as the men and women in charge performed their duties with speed and more motivation and often even with more skill than the normal personnel ever could.

'We'll go see Admiral Verloff first, get him to approve your rank. Then you will retire to finish your report and start planning the joint exercises. I believe it will be a very worthwhile investment, however, do try to limit the resources you'll require to the bare minimum. Efficiency remains your priority, but keep it in mind while organising it. We're spread thin as it is.'

'Yes sir.'

'On a different topic, how do you feel personally after having engaged in battle for the first time? I know you wrote it all down in your report, but I'd like to hear your thoughts on it. We are upgrading the designs of our sets of power armour to be more plasma resistant given the Kra'lagh reliance on those weapons, even in close quarters aboard ships, in accordance to the data we received. You also had first hand experience about the effectiveness of the weapons that your allies wielded and are also the only one of your kind who cared about that. I'd like—'

He was interrupted as two lieutenants rounded a corner and nearly bumped into X-12845623. Eisel could barely make out their unit insignia and accompanying ranks from behind the tall supersoldier. The two men took one look at the tall human, saw the multiple lenses in his eyes, the impressive musculature and immediately identified him as a Genesis soldier. They nodded respectfully, not really seeing Eisel and definitely not seeing his rank. Then one of them did a double take and took a closer look at X-12845623, forcing him to a stop.

'Testy, that you?' he asked.

Testy?

'Yes, Lieutenant Herden.'

'Well I'll be! Thought you'd still be strapped to an operating table with chains somewhere, or back in a test tube with some sort of healing mucus! Glad to see you're doing well. Say, would you be up for— General on deck!' he roared, immediately snapping to attention as he finally caught wind of Eisel, and more importantly, his rank.

'Sir!'

'At ease, Lieutenant,' Eisel said, eyeing the man curiously. Lieutenant Herden, callsign Sheepdog. The one who had fought aside and had been rescued by X-12845623. Who had called him Testy.

'Would you care to elaborate as to why you called him Testy?'

'Sir!' The Lieutenant paled visibly and Eisel could hear him swallow. No doubt he had connected his white lab coat, rank and proximity to a Genesis soldier and came to the correct conclusion that he was Doctor Frankenstein, as the rumours had titled him. None of those rumours were of the pleasant sort.

'I could explain, sir,' said X-12845623, but Eisel quieted him with a hand.

'No, I would very much like to hear the reason behind it from the Lieutenant himself.'

It was amazing how much the special forces officer seemed to shrink. He was a good deal taller than Eisel but somehow the Doctor felt that it was him towering over the other. The other lieutenant had stayed where he was, however. If anything he had stepped slightly closer to his brother-in-arms. Excellent display of loyalty, even though they both showed a good deal of badly concealed fear. It was peculiar how much his reputation could unnerve two hardened veterans. He glanced to the supersoldier at his side and realised that perhaps it wasn't entirely unreasonable.

'It was a joke, sir. A nickname. Referring to how he was possibly be born in a test tube.'

'He was, Lieutenant. Is that a problem?'

'No sir! Me and my men owe our lives to him!'

'I am aware. Are you religious, Lieutenant?'

'Sir?' came the confused question.

'What was it you said? Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...'

'I shall fear no evil,' the Lieutenant whispered, his voice barely audible. Eisel knew he was cementing his reputation with this, but he did not mind.

'X-12845623, what is your opinion on this nickname?' he asked, taking care to keep his voice neutral.

'It is useful, sir. The Special Boarders cannot remember our designations and find us indistinguishable when in armour. I believe these nicknames could help unit cohesion as they seemed to reduce stress levels between our units. It is also an easy way for them to call out to us, as they are not able to transmit orders with their onboard computers like we are.'

'No, I imagine not,' Eisel chuckled. The Muninns had been specifically designed to let the Genesis troops communicate instantly with one another, calling out targets, drawing lines of fire, sharing coordinates of interest, giving fire orders and so many other things through simple impulses. Humans simply could not reach that level. It was physically impossible for them.

'Still, to think you approve of it...' Eisel mused. How peculiar.

He turned back to the young Lieutenant.

'I think he would make a good choice to start planning the joint exercises with.'

'Sir?' asked an unsure Herden.

'Find him after we see the Admiral, X... Testy.' Eisel chuckled again.

'See you later Lieutenant. Oh, before you go I would remind you of one thing.'

The Doctor made sure he had Herden's attention and forced the much younger and fitter man to maintain eye contact.

'The Genesis soldiers were made. Grafted to be the perfect weapon. But they are still young, still learning. They are strange, unlike you, but there is one thing that binds every single one of us on this station, hell, every single one of us wearing this uniform together. We all serve the Empire. Never forget that. Good day, lieutenants.'

'Sir!' the two shouted, snapping off a perfect salute.

Eisel was content. Herden was highly intelligent, a given thing, really. He was a special forces officer. The very best of what humanity could create, naturally at least. The man had understood what he was hinting at. The Empire was like any great nation, rife with corruption, internal strife and petty conflict. The Merchant Houses and their puppets in the Imperial Senate were often choked by it. Sometimes literally. By some man-made miracle and copious amounts of discipline the Imperial military was delightfully free of that. He would not let fractures form and the Doctor felt glad that he was surrounded by others who thought the same.

He saluted the two lieutenants and continued towards Admiral Verloff's location, hearing the shouting long before he came close to the office of the station's chief logistical officer.

'Pay close attention to everything, X-12845623. You'll find that easy, no doubt.'

'Yes sir,' came the answer. A delightful constant.

'This may be a strange directive, but I would like it if you took great care to keep yourself alive. You are somewhat of an anomaly amongst your kin, as you are no doubt aware. On one hand it concerns me, on another it gives you more options. It makes you worth more to me in specific and the military in general. To say it with very, very ancient words.'

He paused in front of the office and he imagined the door trembling slightly at the sheer volume that the Admiral was producing. Incompetence was one sin that the army did not tolerate. He turned to face the newly christened Testy and smiled.

'Live and learn.'

Jane stood in the damaged doorframe, her hand sliding carefully over the busted hinges. She barely dared look at the couple a fair distance away. The display had terrified her to her very bones.

It had all escalated so quickly. One moment she was just wrestling playfully with her friend, then she got hit just a bit too hard and she was banged into the wooden end of the bed. That in turn had set off a panic in Leonne as the massive bruise she was now nursing had begun to show. If it hadn't been hurting so much, she'd have been amused by it. Leonne really didn't fully grasp how much stronger she had become and to see the woman who had been physically dominating her be reduced to the insecure teenager she once knew was hilarious. Or would have been if a good part of her head wasn't turning all the wrong colours of the rainbow.

Then Mentuc had come in, further aggravated the situation and then something within the man had snapped. She knew enough of psychology, especially in combination with what Leonne had told her, to recognise the PTSD attack for what it was. She had expected him to freak out, to break down, perhaps vindicate her suspicions towards him and become violent.

She definitely hadn't expected him to wreck the door handle with a simple grasp, followed by banging the door open with enough force that the massive thing sported several cracks and was smashed halfway of its hinges. That display of strength made her realise just how much danger her friend was in. If he could casually do that, he would kill Leonne if he hit her! At the very least she'd be grievously wounded.

Then the daft bitch had run after him! Shouting his name and just blindly running after the man who had just demolished a fucking massive wooden door! She had crawled out of bed, stumbling at first as the pain drove nails into her head, before half-running, half-crawling after her friend. She had reached the door just in time to see Mentuc on the ground, his body heaving with sorrow at memories she could only guess at, with Leonne shouting his name, trying to break through. When she finally did get through, she had slowly approached him, wary, but not afraid. Then she had crossed the remaining distance and hugged him. Hugged him.

It baffled her at first, but as time went by and Leonne tender display of care slowly broke through Mentuc's barriers and returned him to a state of relative normalcy and Jane was forced to admit that maybe, just maybe, Leonne knew what she was doing. The woman who was once an obstinate young adult acting like a teenager who just wanted to party or study was gently holding her volatile, enigmatic husband. She had shown no fear, no hesitation, only worry for his safety. The girl who once stumbled from one abusive relationship to another seemed to have finally graduated from that curse as the husband responded to her care with unspoken gratefulness.

She didn't know what was being said but clearly the pair had come to a decision when they suddenly stood up and returned to the house. Mentuc caught sight of Jane and turned around with blistering speed, causing the woman to take a frightened step back. Leonne looked around to see what caused her husband's reaction, but calmed down when she saw Jane. When Mentuc turned around again he was wearing his sunglasses again. Leonne realised his action a bit later and started fretting slightly, knowing she had been caught on a lie, something that made Jane seethe with anger. She hated being lied to.

A medical condition, huh? Her friend would have some explaining to do about that. Eventually. Seeing Leonne grab Mentuc's hand with tender love made her look away with a bit of shame, her anger receding at the sight. They were, each in their own way, smitten with the other and here she was as an outsider trying to dig up what they were hiding from her.

The guilt did not fully quell how she felt about her friend lying to her, nor did it negate the curiosity that welled up in her as to just what they were hiding from her. If it was enough to make Leonne lie to her, then it was big.

'We'll just take a shower, change and then we'll set up a camp outside. Mentuc will make sure the fire will last through the night, but if you're too cold you're free to come poke us awake about it.' Leonne smiled at her friend, her eyes displaying an apology.

'Camp outside? What?' Jane stuttered, taken off guard by the sudden change in topic, all but jumping back when Mentuc robotically stomped past her, the wooden floor shaking slightly as the tall man walked past.

'Yes,' Leonne began, elaborating. 'He's more comfortable with it. And before you begin, I also prefer it. As much as I like hanging with you Jane, no offense meant, I...' she trailed off, waiting for Mentuc to pull up the curtain that hung between the bathroom and the rest of the house. Only when he had done that —thank the stars he hadn't forgotten to do it— did she dare to continue.

'I like having my privacy with him,' she whispered.

'Oh?' Jane asked, then it dawned on her. 'Oooooooh! I get it.' She felt a slightly lecherous grin creep on her face, unable to help herself, as she poked a rapidly reddening Leonne with her elbow. 'But why do you go outside? Shouldn't it be me?'

'Don't be ridiculous!' Leonne dismissed it with a snort. 'You're our guest. Besides both he and I are used to sleeping outside. It's no issue to us and I'd rather you not get a cold or something.' Her friend threw her a look that made clear that conversation was done. Then she took Jane off guard by stepping forward and hugging her.

'In time you'll know and understand,' she whispered, before running into the house and slipping behind the shower curtain.

Jane rubbed her bruises tenderly as she watched her friend go, her thoughts tumbling around in her head. At the very least she now understood why her friend had completely forgotten about her for the past couple of years. Dealing with Mentuc was a full time job.

I really hope you're right, she thought to herself as she walked back to her Vertigo and started unpacking.

Because I'd really like to make sense of it all.