"That is all the intel I have gathered so far." Hoplite told him, looming tall over Michael's cot and speaking in the deadpan the super-soldiers were known for.

Thirty-seven had spoken quickly and curtly, listing certain things off as matter of fact while presenting other intel that he said needed 'more investigating'. All in the span of a minute, not even slowing when Michael attempted to ask questions.

"Sir, no offense meant of course but uh… that's stupid." Michael told the Hoplite.

Elves, orcs and dwarves? What a load of crap. A lost colony from before the first contact era that somehow regressed to medieval times? Ridiculous, especially when Hoplite told him that it was slightly possible that this was an alternate dimension. Michael was like, ninety percent sure that wasn't what happened. He wasn't no scientician or nothin' like that, but bombs don't send people to alternate dimensions… unless maybe… well it had been an antimatter bomb right?

Okay, he was like, eighty percent sure that this wasn't an alternate dimension. It was supposed to be antimatter or whatever, who knew where that stuff went after the bomb when kaplooey? Hmm… seventy percent. Wait a dang second, these folks spoke definite Jynesian! Eighty percent! Now, all this about 'anomalous powers' was ridiculous phooey, only Lord Jyn was capable of the impossible.

Maybe thirty-seven had to be… re-indoctrinated. Michael shuddered. Not a pleasant experience from what he'd heard. Michael personally had almost had to go through it a few times for all kinds a' stuff, but he'd avoided it so far. If this guy started spouting off all this 'magic' crap to the brass, that'd be it. Hoplite would definitely get…

Oh who was he kidding? There was no 'brass' anymore. Terna had started losing the war after lord Jyn vanished. Best not to think about that now, and it was definitely not a good idea to bring that up to Hoplite. Why would thirty-seven tell him all of this without even changing his tone a little bit? He made it sound like he expected Michael to just accept whatever it was he said as fact. Knowing Hoplites, he most likely did.

Wait a second! He understood now!

Michael thought that Hoplites were supposed to be deadpan serious all the time, but he could see now that they indeed had a sense of humor. Hoplite had to just be pulling some kind of weird joke on him right? That would be incredibly inappropriate but it would make sense if it were just some awkward attempt at a joke from a Hoplite… Hearing it from the Hoplite though was something else entirely. Maybe he hit his head on the way down from the Sparrow? The pilot of the pod had said that the planet had looked like an eyeball, but Michael thought it was just a… well, a planet that just kinda resembled one a little bit.

From what Hoplite was sayin' though, the thing looked exactly like some sorta flyin' space eyeball thing. That made Michael really uncomfortable. Was he on some sort of eldritch horror monster? A weird construct art world by the Final Kind? Michael decided right then, to not think about it.

Yes, that would be a lot easier.

Now all this about fantasy creatures… Well, he thought he had seen a couple people with pointed ears in the tent, but he chalked that up to some kinda cosmetic work. The short buff people though? Well, that was it, they were just short buff people, nothing special about that right? Save for the fact that they all had thick braided beards down to their guts. That didn't mean they were dwarves, that just meant that they… kinda looked like dwarves, that's all.

Now the rat person he saw… Well, Michael had chalked that up to a hallucination. Rats didn't just up and walk, that was ridiculous. He hadn't seen one of these 'orcs' neither, so clearly they didn't exist. Michael couldn't believe that thirty-frickin'-seven of all people; of all the Hoplites, could be tripping this hard. Was he high? Did Hoplites shoot up in their spare time?

Probably.

Dude was probably high as a kite right now, eatin' weird shrooms off the ground and whatnot. Interplanetary shrooms were dangerous things to toy around with after all, Michael knew that for a fact.

"Negative marine." The Hoplite replied sternly, taking him from his thoughts "That is the situation."

"Situation sir? What do we do?" Michael asked him, leaning back on his pillow with a sigh "There any aliens need killin'?"

The Hoplite nodded after a small pause "Somewhere, I'm sure. I believe there are more crashed shuttles located past the Fiendwall."

Michael stared "The whatsit?"

"Fiendwall." The Hoplite replied, a sliver of irritation in his tone "What your pod crashed into."

Michael nodded "Okay good, just a wall, was scared we crashed through a buildin' or something."

"It was populated, private." Hoplite told him "I don't know how many casualties."

Michaels blood went cold and his eyes widened in panic.

"I wasn't the p-pilot sir, I didn't know-" Michael stammered, his breathing quickening.

Hoplite put a hand on his shoulder, a cold grip that gave a somehow reassuring squeeze "The situation is resolved. You will not be punished."

Michael breathed a sigh of relief, but a feeling of hot guilt still flooded his gut. Sure, he hadn't decided where the pod was goin' and after you breach the atmosphere it was in Jyn's hands at that point… but damn… dozens of lives lost just so he could survive? What made him so important? All he did was kill aliens; a lot of aliens granted, but he was still just a simple killer. Why did he deserve to live when everyone else died?

He slumped back out of the Hoplites grip, the back of his head hitting the pillow as he winced. Michael shouldn't be alive, he shoulda died too…

He shoulda, but here he was.

"Private?" Hoplite asked, that visorless helmet leaning closer to Michael's face until that featurless helmet was mere inches away.

"Sir you're freakin' me out, couldja back up?" Michael asked, squeezing further back into his pillow.

He did thankfully, pulling back to his full height as he stood next to Michael's cot.

"I thought you were going to faint." Hoplite told him.

"Naw sir… I just feel…" Michael said slowly.

"It wasn't your fault private." Hoplite told him "We have a mission to accomplish. You can't think about how things should have gone, especially when you had no control over the situation. It is wasted effort."

Michael sighed. Thirty-seven was right, he needed to let this guilt go before it festered and got worse… if he stacked that guilt on top of what he was already going through… the next time he was alone again… Well…

He may not survive that.

"Mission sir?" Michael asked, firming his features as he stared up into Hoplite's helmet.

"We need to link back up with the crew from the Sparrow." The super-soldier replied, giving a tap on his helmet "I can pick up on any distress calls over my radio, but we'll need to travel around until we find any." He continued, letting his hand lower back to his side "I was worried that your pod would be Final Kind since I couldn't pick up any distress signal, so if any shuttles had their power disabled like yours did, we'll have to hope that we'll be lucky enough to find them. For any shuttle that hasn't been disabled, I will be able to pick up their frequency, assuming we're close enough."

"Alright cool. Did the fella's in your pod stay behind to wait for anyone to show up?" Michael asked.

There should be more troops with this guy, why hadn't he seen any so far? Those pods could fit eight men in them.

"There were no survivors aboard the Sparrow when I ejected. I didn't evacuate until everyone else was gone." Hoplite said, going back to that monotone they were known for.

"Damn man… didja get knocked out or something?" Michael asked.

What the hell could have knocked out a dang Hoplite, especially this one? No, the guy who single handedly destroyed a Final Kind Admech couldn't be knocked out, especially when no admechs had been aboard the invasion crew to the sparrow.

"I was caught off guard and was knocked unconscious by a T fifty-seven Rhino prior to the evacuation." Hoplite said again in that monotone.

No shame, just a pure statement of fact. Knocked out by a friggin' rhino? Did someone run him over or did it get chucked at him by a yugoro? Must have hit him in the back of the head or something to not see it comin'... but wait wouldn't he have? He heard that this phalanx model armor had cameras that let Hoplites have three-hundred and sixty degree vision… What happened? Michael opened his mouth and was about to ask that very question when a long black haired woman wearing a black cloak came in through the tent flap.

She strode right up to Hoplite with concern plastered across her features… very nice features he thought with a smile. Until he noticed those pointed ears sticking up from her hair. Elves right? Yeah, it was a load of crap, that was cosmetic work if he'd ever seen it. He wasn't into chicks that dipped into cosmetics, they tended to be… not right, in his experience.

Now give him a lady that could potentially kick his ass and he was all game, but cosmetics was where he drew the line. Smart girls were great too; made a marine forget his craving for crayons when they were giving him 'lessons'. Best kind of girl though was a to-

"There's a crowd outside." She told Hoplite "They mean harm for Michael. I don't know when they'll try anything but there is talk."

Hoplite turned his helmet toward her "We'll leave tonight. I'll remain here with Michael until then…" Hoplite began, pausing for a brief second before fully turning toward her "Where is the bag!?" Hoplite suddenly shouted "Did you secure it Lance?" He said in a slightly calmer tone.

That is if 'slightly calmer' meant an avalanche of boulders about to crush you turned into dump truck of gravel about to run you over meant 'calmer'

The elf girl's face went pale "I-I didn't- The crowd grew so fast and I heard the things they were saying… I'll go get it now!" She shouted, running back out of the tent.

A few doctors stared after her as she went, heads turning back to Hoplite and Michael in his bed. Thankfully they hadn't seemed to hear their conversation, but they stared at Michael as if to tell him with just those glares that 'you aren't leavin' that bed again'. Michael wasn't about to let himself get burned at the stake or whatever the hell else these bumpkins had planned for him. Despite the news, he wasn't worried. There was absolutely nothing these guys had that could possibly even scratch Hoplite's armor, let alone kill him.

Michael would be almost completely safe… Unless one of them got a lucky shot with a crossbow or something.

Hmm… maybe he should be a little worried. Hoplite said that they at least didn't have guns. Thirty-seven was a legend, but he doubted that he could catch bullets. Well, maybe he could? Michael had no idea just what Hoplites were capable of. Hoplite didn't move from his position, remaining facing in the direction that Lance had fled in.

Michael took a deep steadying breath to calm himself. Better eat that oddly filling mush while he still could…