With the surrender of Nizam Myt and his remaining troops, immediately prior to their summary execution by Vezér Gret’s forces, the Valkyrie’s contract had been successfully discharged. The Dzan’ij were eager to see them go so they could begin cleaning house, though no more so than the mercenaries themselves. The massacre had left an unpleasant taste in everyone’s mouth, but ending an operation isn’t something that happens overnight. Evacuating personnel and equipment from the surface took time, but within the space of a week they were safely embarked on their transport vessel, the VCS Fiddlers’ Green.

Once they’d finished loading the old girl... and more importantly, gotten paid... Fiddlers’ Green broke orbit, looking to put as much distance as possible between them and their previous employers. The brass, familiar with the atmosphere a contract gone sideways could generate, sent a message down the chain of command, ordering company meetings for all Officers and NCOs on the following day.

It had taken longer than expected to get Lance Corporal Becca Sultan back from the Knights. Between higher-than-expected casualties and shortage of medical staff, she’d been triaged and forced to wait for treatment. It had put the squad in an especially foul mood, champing at the bit to have her returned to them. They’d released her from the infirmity just prior to the meeting, leaving Sergeant Kai and Rúna among the last to arrive. Captain Inaba noted their appearance but said nothing as they found seats.

“All right, settle down,” she ordered, as the murmured conversations came to a halt. First Sergeant Berger hovered nearby, wearing a poker face. “I want to keep this as informal as possible, so sing out if there’s something you want to say. So, let’s get down to it.” She sighed, leaning against the desk behind her. “I know what happened put everyone on edge. I get that. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it was out of our hands. We fulfilled our contract, and that’s that. What the locals do afterwards is their business, not ours.”

One of the NCOs from third platoon raised their hand. “What I don’t understand is why they just didn’t wait,” he said bitterly. “They could have marched them off to prison somewhere and then wasted them, without making us watch.” He shook his head. “I won’t lie, ma’am; it’s got my troops in a bad headspace.”

“Which is why we’re having this meeting,” she nodded. “Believe me, we’re all feeling it. Remind them we had absolutely nothing to do with it. There’s no reason they should feel guilty.”

Another hand went up. “That’s not the problem, Captain,” another sergeant said. “I don’t think anyone feels guilty over it; like you said, our hands are clean. What I’m hearing, and I don’t want to name names, is... folks looking for a little payback.” He grimaced at the admission, obviously uncomfortable. It was likely that had come straight from one of his own people.

Top Berger stepped forward. “You need to lock that shit down now,” she snapped. “If the brass hears about grunts looking to even the score, we’ll have ourselves a real shit show on our hands. They’ll tear through this command like a goddamn buzz saw, looking to root out sedition in the ranks.” Her eyes narrowed. “That. Can. Not. Happen.”

The sergeant swallowed, bracing. “Oorah, Top,” he barked out before sitting back down.

“The First Sergeant is absolutely correct,” Inaba agreed. “That kind of talk can destroy a command, and I won’t have it in mine. You get me?”

“We get you, ma’am!” they shouted back. She stared at each of them, her countenance as fierce as any they’d seen on her, before relenting.

“The question of revenge is moot,” she continued. “We’ve already broken orbit, and the odds of us ever coming anywhere near Dzan again are pretty damn remote, which is both a blessing and a curse. I may not have to worry too much about some random Dzan’ij getting its head blown off by one of ours... but by the same token, if we don’t do something about that attitude, all that negative energy will end up going somewhere. If the troops need to bounce each other off the bulkheads to blow off a little steam, I’m willing to turn a blind eye, but that’s as far as I’ll go. So, let me make this perfectly clear.” The glare was suddenly back with a vengeance as she drew herself up to her full height.

“Don’t let it land on my desk,” she warned them. “If I’m forced to take official notice, then my hands are tied... and I’m telling you any incidents will have higher looking to make an example out of somebody. You don’t want that individual to be one of yours. You really, really don’t.”

The silence that followed that pronouncement was deafening. She let it drag out for almost a full minute, before turning to her second. “First Sergeant, they’re all yours.”

“Company, Ten-hut!” she bellowed, with everyone jumping to attention as the captain exited the compartment. She waited until the hatch slid shut before relaxing her stance. “All right, at ease,” she said with a wave, taking Inaba’s place. She shrugged, managing a weary smile as she looked them over.

“This was a bad one. We get that. I don’t need to tell you a bunch of psychobabble or hold your fucking hand. What Gret and his people did was fucked up, ten ways from Sunday... and being Valkyries, we all want to even the score.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But we can’t. That’s not how the game is played. Not for us.”

Someone from second platoon raised their hand. “So what... we just eat it?” she asked.

“Yeah... we eat it,” she confirmed. “You hate that. I get it. And you know something? I hate it too. But here’s the thing; the men and women in this room are Golf company’s leaders, and I’m here to tell you the hardest damn part of leadership. It’s telling your people to do something that you know is messed up because it’s necessary. Because if you don’t, they’ll be the one paying the price. None of you want to see one of your own burned on this, so don’t let it happen. Oorah?”

“Oorah First Sergeant!” they shouted.

“Good. Keep me in the loop. It’s my job to look out for you, but I can’t do that if I’m being kept in the dark. I need to be out in front of anything that happens here, so make damn sure I am. Questions?”

She looked out over the crowd, but no hands were raised. “The memorial for those we lost is the day after tomorrow. If the troops do something stupid, it’ll be after the ceremony. Keep your eyes peeled.” There were nods all around. “All right then, my door is open, blah blah blah. Dismissed.” The company rose to its feet and shuffled out, as Kai and Rúna made their way back to their billet.

“Credit for your thoughts,” the sergeant finally said as they entered their compartment. “You haven’t said a word since the meeting.”

“Neither have you,” she pointed out.

Kai just shrugged. “The captain and Top said it better than I ever could. Can’t think of anything to add.”

Rúna sighed, sitting down on her bunk and leaning back against the bulkhead. “I dunno. I think... I guess it’s all just getting to me. It’s all so goddamn pointless, you know?”

The sergeant sat down across from her. “Not sure I follow.”

“I’m not sure I do either,” she said wryly. “It’s just, everything made sense, once. ‘This is the way the Universe is, so just accept it.’ I was fine with that... well, maybe not fine, exactly, but I understood there was stuff you couldn’t do anything about. Things you just had to suck up, like that shit down on Dzan.” She pulled her feet up, hugging her knees. “But now, something’s changed. I look at that fucking bloodbath and think to myself, ‘Man, we could have stopped it. We should have.’” She shrugged helplessly. “And I don’t know what to do with that.”

He grimaced in understanding. “You realize what’s different, don’t you?”

She nodded, closing her eyes. “Earth,” she whispered.

“Yeah... Earth.” They sat there for a moment, staring at one another, before he bent down and started pulling off his boots. “That mission... it transformed us. Altered us in ways we’re still figuring out.”

“Yeah, it did.” She thought for a moment. “The Terran Marines would have never stood for it,” she said pointedly.

“The Terran Marines had Terra,” he reminded her. “We don’t.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, they never had to scrape by the way we do,” he explained. “They ran short of something, they’d just whistle it up from Earth, no problem. They didn’t need to hustle for work, they had a mission... and an entire planet to keep them bankrolled. Unfortunately, we can’t afford to turn away jobs, no matter how much they stink.” He shrugged helplessly. “We’re not them, Rúna. We haven’t been, for an awfully long time.”

She frowned at that. “So much for Semper Fidelis.”

“We try,” he told her. “We do the best we can, with what we’ve got. Sometimes it’s not enough.”

She nodded, as the fight seemed to drain right out of her... when a stray thought seemed to spark something more upbeat within her. “What?” he asked.

Rúna smiled wistfully. “I was just wondering how Maggie and Diggs are doing,” she told him.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” he smiled in return, before breaking out into a grin. “That kid had one hell of a crush on you.”

“Just shows he has good taste,” she chuckled. “Hated your guts though.”

They both shared a laugh for a moment before the mood shifted once more. “I think about that mission a lot,” she continued, “and I think about Rendezvous.” Rúna cocked her head, regarding him. “Do you?”

Kai froze and then bowed his head. “Rúna... we’ve talked about this.”

“No, I’ve talked about it,” she countered. “You, I still don’t know what’s going on inside your head.”

He sighed. “You know the rule. No relationships within the squad. That hasn’t changed.”

“Fine.” She rose to her feet, coming to attention. “Sergeant Kai, I hereby request a transfer to another squad.”

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Rúna, for God’s sake, will you please sit down?”

“Are you denying my request?” she said tersely. “Because technically, I don’t need your approval. I can take this to Gunny Satou and get her to sign off on it.”

“Okay, ‘technically’, that’s true,” he agreed. “But you know the first thing she’ll do is haul my butt in and ask why you want a transfer. If I tell her the truth, maybe she signs off, maybe she doesn’t. I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But let’s be honest with each other for a moment. Neither of us wants to go that route.”

“Maybe I do,” she snapped. “Lord knows I’ve tried everything else to get your attention.”

Kai took a deep breath before rising to his feet. He reached out to take her hands in his, but she resisted, pulling them away. Patiently he tried again until they were clasped between them, as he stared deeply into her eyes.

“It was never about attention,” he whispered. “You had that from day one.”

“Then why?” she pled with him. “I don’t understand. I care about you, and I know you care about me. So what the hell is stopping you?”

His head dropped. It took him a long time to respond.

“... because there isn’t another person in this Clan, I trust more than you,” he said at last.

“Wait, you don’t want to be with me because you trust me? That doesn’t make any damn sense!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, pulling them from his grasp.

“No, it makes perfect sense,” he countered. “Look, can we sit down, please? I feel like I’m back at Boot.”

She turned away for a moment, before grudgingly doing as he’d asked. “Well? Start talking.”

He grimaced. “I’m not good with talking about the emotional stuff,” he said, stumbling his way through it. “But we’ve got a dangerous job. Every time we go out there, maybe we don’t come back.”

“So why wait then?” she demanded. “You’re not wrong, but to me that says putting things off til tomorrow when there might not be a tomorrow is just plain stupid.”

Kai just shook his head. “You’re not getting it. I just... I don’t want to die.”

“You think I do?” she countered.

“No, of course not... shit, I’m making a mess of this,” he grumbled, before shaking his head and trying again. “I had to choose,” he said finally, “and going out there knowing you’ve got my back... Rúna, it’s the only way I can go out there.” Now he was the one pleading. “The only reason I’m any good at what I do is because of you. I mean, I can find anybody to sleep with…”

“Don’t push your luck,” she growled.

“... shit,” he cursed again, before sighing in defeat. “What I’m saying is... yes, I think about us. A lot. I think maybe, we could be great together.” He blushed as she lit up with an enormous smile. “But when I weigh it against you watching my six when we’re out on a mission, I’m not willing to give that up. At least, not yet.”

“Not yet?” she said in surprise.

“Hey, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid,” he said with a rueful smile. “But I need to prove myself, Rúna.”

She stared at him for a moment, and then went to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone,” she said fiercely.

“Yeah... I do.” He gave her a crooked smile and tapped his chest. “To me.”

“Men and their egos,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Maybe... okay, probably,” he agreed, before taking her hand once more. “You’ve always been there when I needed you,” he said quietly, “so I’m asking again; will you stand by me and save my ass when it needs saving?” The question was a serious one, but the twinkle in his eye at the end had her stifling a laugh.

“Well, we can’t let that get shot off,” she chuckled. “Fine... I’ll stay on as your Team leader.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“But,” she told him, pointing a finger in his face, “we will have this conversation again at some point.”

“I sure hope so,” he grinned.