Xaleyp shook as he bowed to each of them in turn before walking off towards the bunks. A military supply raid was different. They had been sticking to small hit and run missions, planting a seed of chaos and getting out before they knew anything was amiss. This seemed much riskier.

He found Mian quickly in the empty area laying on one of the cots, arms folded across her chest and one knee in the air. Her eye twitched in her CAM as he approached and sat on the edge of the cot, sinking a couple inches lower and groaning with the extra weight.

“What are you up to?” he asked her.

“Watching a stream.” She exited the CAM to look at him, staring intensely at him. “So much more interesting when you have a net to get the latest ones instead of being stuck with the same thing for the hundredth time. What did he want?”

She gestured with her head to Seth, who was talking animatedly to Colonel Diaspora and General Hades. Captain Redman had disappeared somewhere. The frown on Mian’s face told him that she was not too happy.

“Some raid. Everything alright?”

“Just fine.” She stared at him quizzically. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Want to get some training in?”

“What do you got in mind?” She sat up to sit next to him, her face suddenly bright. “I don’t know how Seth would feel if we start wasting ammo though.”

“I was thinking more hand to hand. Didn’t I ask you to remind me that I needed it?” He smiled at her and nudged her with his elbow. “After I got my ass handed to me by Max, I don’t want that to happen again.”

“A lot’s happened since then. I guess I forgot.” She smiled back and stood. “Let’s go then.”

She held her hand out to him, which he took as he stood. After a brief hesitation, he released it again, his face turning scarlet. They walked together to the empty corner. Their footsteps echoed in mostly quiet of the cistern. The gentle crashing of a waterfall below was oddly soothing. Mian grabbed one of the mats and threw on the metal, letting it clang loudly. She grabbed some cloth hand wraps from a nearby table and began wrapping it around her hands and wrists. When she was done, she passed a pair to him.

“Is the one mat enough for you, or are you going to need more room when I take you down?” She smirked at him.

“Ha ha. I’d like you see you try.”

He grabbed another mat and set it next to the first, creating a square sparring area. When he stepped onto the pad, it sunk in about an inch, taking the shape of his foot. Mian kicked off her shoes and followed suit.

“Ooh, losing the shoes?” Xaleyp teased. “This is getting serious.”

She stuck her tongue out at him then crouched down, assuming a fighting stance. He followed suit with his arms close to his body.

“Well, let’s see what you got, Astral.”

He smiled at the call sign. It had only been a few weeks since the last time he ran a simulation, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Just hearing that name again brought him back to the cockpit of a starfighter. Maybe eventually he’d find his way to a real one like he wanted.

They circled each other for a minute, neither wanting to be the first to strike. Then Mian lashed out like a cornered tiger. One fist aimed for his side while the other came in towards his head. He easily deflected one and almost dodged the second, feeling it graze his temple and ear, then followed through in the same movement to punch at her. She blocked it with an elbow and kicked out, hitting his shin. A wave of pain went up and down his leg. He let out a gasp and hopped on one foot, grabbing at the spot.

“Whoops, my bad.” Mian smiled toothily at him. “Good thing I took off my shoes.”

“You did that on purpose.” He felt his face going red again as he gingerly set his leg down.. “Besides, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Aw, little baby Xaleyp doesn’t want to hit a girl?” she asked in a fake baby voice. “It wouldn’t be good training if you didn’t learn anything from it. Gotta make sure you’re prepared for anything.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

She bounced side to side on the balls of her feet, her eyes locked on his. He punched twice at her, feeling nothing but air as she dodged sideways. Before he could react, she fell down and swept her leg in an arc, kicking his feet out from under him and knocking him on his back. A giant puff of air came out of his mouth. He lay there for a moment, hearing the laughter from some of the resistance members in the cistern. Mian stood over him, her hands on her hips.

“I did warn you. That’s one for me, zero for you.”

“I don’t know. My view from down here seems like a win.”

She kicked him hard in the ribs, making him yelp.

“Now, if you’re done being an ass.” She held out a hand to help him up which he took. “Gotta make sure you’re ready for anything.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He lowered himself into his stance again. “Let’s keep going. The more times I’m knocked down the better.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.”

They continued sparring for the next fifteen minutes. Xaleyp was knocked down six more times, each feeling worse than the last. He did manage to get a few well placed blows in, one time even accidentally hitting her mouth and splitting part of her lip. However, he was hurt more often than he hurt her. Just like when he fought Max, though not nearly as stressful.

When they finished, Mian led the way over to the small cafeteria area. Hand to hand training was one way to work up an appetite. The soldier who volunteered as the cook was not all that good at it, but he was slowly getting better. His menu consisted mainly of some sort of meat soup, a meat stew, and something he called meat potage, which was a… soup.

“Sorry about your lip,” Xaleyp said, as they were both served a bowl of the soup. They sat in a nearby corner.

“Oh, it’s fine.” She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and licked some of the drying blood off. “The important part is making sure you feel more prepared.”

“So what do you make of that God’s Machine woman?”

“Well, I’m not a big fan of working with terrorists, but if it’s what we have to do, I’ll get over it.”

“Terrorists?” Xaleyp choked on a little of the soup. “What do you mean terrorists?”

“Organization that disagrees with the government?” Mian tapped her spoon softly on the side of the bowl with each point. “Branding their members? Wanting to upset Delargivic? What else would they be?”

“I guess I didn’t think about it.”

Seth was willing to work with terrorists to get what he wanted? Why? Was the situation that bad? Could they trust them? What if God’s Machine stabbed them in the back? What if they were actually working with the Arcadians to get to them? So much that could go wrong.

“I can’t stand that man,” Mian whispered. She was staring at Seth on the central platform.

“Neither can I.”

“Yet you continue working with him. Why?”

Xaleyp thought about it. He had known Seth for less than twenty-four hours when he agreed to go along with him, not even knowing the destination, and he brought Mian along when he had hardly known her any longer. Why did he?

“He’s a… means to an end.”

“What end? What end could he possibly be good for?”

“I want… power.” It felt weird to say the words out loud, but when he did, he knew exactly how true they were. “I want to be able to protect people I care about. People like you.”

“Is all this really worth it?” She gestured to the cistern around them. Her soup plopped back into the bowl as she held up a spoonful to further illustrate her point. “Is it worth getting power if you lose yourself along the way? Is it worth living in squalor for just a chance of getting what you want? What do you really want to do with your life, Xaleyp?”

“When I was taken by the Hyperions, my mom and dad died, murdered because of Ire.” He could barely hear himself. “I was powerless to stop it, to protect the people I cared about. Now Lina’s gone. I never want to feel like that again.”

Mian didn’t say anything. She didn’t try to push him further. She didn’t try to make him feel better. She simply reached out and grabbed his hand, gently squeezing it. His face burned at the touch, and he looked away.

“So what about you?” Xaleyp asked, trying to change the subject. He took his hand back and spooned some soup — or perhaps it was stew? — into his mouth. “I had Lina back on Vertyn. Were you close to anyone?”

“Nope.” Her answer came quicker than he expected. She sounded almost happy about it. “It was probably better like that anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can’t tell you.” She shook her head and pointed her spoon at him. “And before you ask, I can’t even tell you why I can’t tell you.”

“If we’re going to be friends, you shouldn’t keep secrets from me.”

“Ask me no questions,” she said, her eyes dark and voice suddenly low, “and I’ll tell you no lies. How’s your potage?”

“I thought it was the stew.” Xaleyp looked at his bowl curiously and kept his voice low. “It’s fine.”

He eyed her carefully as they both continued to eat. What did she mean by that? Ask no questions and she’ll tell no lies? What was she hiding? Why couldn’t she tell him… anything? Especially after he had been so straightforward and honest with her. Who was this girl? Why did she want so badly to help him when she didn’t even trust him enough to tell him the truth? She continued to get more mysterious with each passing day.

Yet something inside made him trust her. The voice in his memories. Lina’s death. It had to be her, this mysterious girl sitting in front of him that he felt like he barely knew. For some reason, he had to trust her. But to what end?