“No, no, no,” Rook replied instantly, “I've got a train to catch, I haven't got time to stand around here listening to lengthy expositions of plots and drama.” As he spoke, he took out a business card and held it out to Travertine, who ignored the card and leaned in close;

“You don't want to hear about the coming Grand Uprising and how the Red Wolves plan to bypass the Union outposts' defences?”

Rook sighed; “Look,” He started writing on the back of his card, “go to this address, ask to see Kharlyria, and show them and her this card. Tell them Rook sent you. She'll have the best idea of what to do with your information. And whatever you do, don't tell the Union authorities.” The detective shoved the card into Travertine's hand and made for the station platform,

“But this is urgent. We don't know how much more time we have.”

“Then you'd better hurry.” Called Rook without stopping.

“Well he was useless.” Kyanite, who hadn't heard the exchange, said to Travertine, “Hey, why don't we call in a tip at the Union military headquarters in Ragnarok? I mean, it's their outposts that are going to be attacked.”

“Absolutely not.”Answered the surgeon, “I was in the Union military, I know how they operate. Even if we warn them about the special modifications to their air filtration systems and the outposts hold, they'll start the war themselves.” He then examined the business card.

Comrade Sergeant cleared his throat louder than was necessary; “Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I for one could use a drink. And we still need to raise one to Razor.” In a silent but unanimous decision, the rest of the Comrades trooped off with him to find a bar.

“Hey, that sounds like a good idea.” Piped up one of Immortal's men,

“Go ahead.” Immortal nodded, “Travertine and I will find out when the next train to Ragnarok leaves. Travertine?” The two of them headed off, leaving Kyanite and OC-1 standing alone next to the man-hole. They quickly followed Immortal and Travertine to the station platform, where a train was being loaded with munitions.

After checking the schedule board and seeing the next train for Ragnarok was due to leave in a little over an hour, Travertine looked at Rook's business card again.

“You think this 'Kharlyria' can be trusted?” Immortal asked him in hushed tones so as not to be overheard.

“I hope so.”

“Maybe we should tell the authorities. If those traps the mechanics were talking about aren't uncovered...”

“The Union will launch an offensive of its own against the Republic—don't think that they don't already have their own plan in place in case of war. They don't need evidence that the Republic is supporting the Red Wolves.”

“So it's war either way then.”

“Now you're starting to sound like the fatalistic one.” Travertine noted with a wry grin;

“Are we going to stand around here or go join the others?” Kyanite interrupted the two old men;

“Mm, yes, I suppose we should go check up on them.” Immortal nodded his eye.

“OC-1?” Kyanite turned to the cyborg.

OC-1, who was a radical pragmatist with a far-too-efficient logic-assistance chip inside his head, rapidly calculated that alcohol would be detrimental to the continued effective functioning of his cognitive system. However, he also did not want to appear to be rude, as that would degrade the friendly relations he had built up with Kyanite over their past few days together. Just then, something caught his eye.

“Excuse me,” He said, “I've got a train to catch.” Without further explanation, he went to the train being loaded with munitions and slipped aboard when no one was looking.

“What the hell is he doing?” Immortal asked in shock,

“I haven't got the faintest idea.” Kyanite responded slowly.

When OC-1 hopped aboard the car, a startled Rook whirled around and barely stopped himself from screaming.

“You shouldn't sneak up on an old man like that!” He reprimanded quietly, panting and grasping his chest as if he'd just had a heart attack.

“I am here to assist in your endeavours.” Whispered OC-1 as he took his place next to Rook behind crates of weapons. They both went silent when a forklift brought a stack of three crates in, set them down, and left.

“What for?!”

“I need to gather further experience in life. You seem a knowledgeable person, so I'd like to learn from working together with you.”

Rook waited for another forklift to come and go before saying, “Well, I don't know about working together, but if you want to head in the same direction at the same time as me, I won't stop you.”

* * *

Kyanite stepped into the bar just in time to see Nationalist, the Comrade who'd been unconscious but woke up on their way out of the Happy New Beginnings mine headquarters, fly past her and slam into the wall.

“What's happening?” She asked,

“First, one of them called the Sergeant a shameless turncoat.” The zene said as he peeled himself off the floor and dusted himself off, “Then the Sergeant called him a housepet of the Serenity regime, so he made fun of the Sergeant for calling everyone comrade, then the Sergeant called him a jelly-brain, and he called the Sergeant a bone-head. Then this.” Nationalist pointed at the Comrades and Tunnel Dogs beating the living crap out of each other with bottles, chairs, and fists.

“Hey!” Shouted Immortal, but they ignored him as a group of bouncers approached. They, however, were not only significantly outnumbered, they were used to dealing with factory workers and miners, not trained war veterans. Still, the entrance of the bouncers invited the participation of everyone else in the building, who leapt gleefully into the fray.

“Excuse me.” Nationalist said and ran to rejoin the action. With a growling sigh, Immortal followed close behind, he being followed by Travertine and Kyanite. The zene commander made a beeline for Comrade Colonel, who was sitting serenely in his chair nursing his whiskey. Someone attempted to break a bottle over his head, but three Comrades instantly converged and knocked the assailant out cold before returning to their other business.

“Comrade Colonel!” Immortal shouted over the din, “Order your men to stand down!”

The Colonel took another sip, turned to Immortal, and asked incredulously; “Order? What do you take us for, a military outfit? We're wildmen, tunnel rats. I don't give orders, I give suggestions by virtue of charismatic authority.” He returned to his drink with an air of finality.

Whilst Travertine and Kyanite fended off several attackers, Immortal continued; “Well then use your charismatically authoritative virtue to suggest they stand down!”

“I'm off-duty. Why don't you order your own men to stand down, you think of that one? Damn jelly-brain, get off my back.”

Immortal duly put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Although it was very loud, no one seemed to take notice except for Immortal's own Tunnel Dogs, who dropped what they were doing and gathered around him. Without a further word, the entourage headed for the door along with Travertine and Kyanite. Just as they were opening it, one of the Comrades shouted:

“Hey! They're getting away!”

“After them!” Roared Comrade Sergeant; the Tunnel Dogs picked up their pace, but the fight soon broke out in the street.

Moments later, however, Comrade Colonel casually meandered outside and said,

“Alright, alright, that's enough.”

“But Colonel—” Began the Sergeant,

“No buts. That's enough.”

“Fine.” The Sergeant helped the Tunnel Dog he had been beating into the sidewalk back onto his feet; “This isn't over you know. That was a draw. Round two is coming, and you'd better be prepared.”

“No round two!” Insisted Immortal before any of his men could speak up,

“Aw, what's the harm in a little friendly rivalry?” Asked Travertine,

“Keep your people under control, will you?” Immortal demanded of Comrade Colonel:

“I already told you, I make suggestions, I don't give orders.”

“Then what was that?”

“That was me exercising my charismatically authoritative authority, of course.”

“Then exercise it again!”

“You can't just use it back-to-back...” The Colonel sighed, “You soldiers don't understand how these things work.”

“Boys boys,” Said Kyanite, who had several brothers and so understood power rivalries between males fairly well, “er...” She stammered a little with everyone staring at her, “What you need is a competition to prove your skills.” Comrade Sergeant made ready to punch the Tunnel Dog next to him. “No no, not like that. I mean a civilised competition.”

Comrade Sergeant raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Well...” Kyanite hadn't quite thought that far just yet.

“Not that this isn't fun,” Travertine interrupted, sensing Kyanite had nothing more to say, “but we'd better get going before the owner of the bar we're standing next to comes out and demands reparations.”

“Yeah! Let's go!” Kyanite agreed to avoid having to finish her previous sentence;

“I hate paying for things too.” Comrade Colonel added, “Where do you wanna go?”

“To Ragnarok, obviously. We have business to finish.”