Neil and Valentine stood stock still for another stunned moment. Rivers had her back to them, her shoulders starting to tremble. “Turn around.” Valentine snapped. “Rivers, turn the fuck around.” He took a step forward, but Triss growled again. Now Neil saw she wasn’t growling at Rivers, but at Valentine, her stance low and hackles raised. Rivers moved to disappear through a door, but Valentine moved in a blur and got to her first. Shouting in protest as Valentine picked her up easily by her middle, Rivers squirmed like a landed fish as Valentine turned to a long table in the room that would have been used for sorting through gear and washing uniforms. He slammed her down on her back, all the wind rushing from her lungs in a single rush. Arms falling away from her midsection, Rivers stared at the ceiling in stunned confusion for a moment.

Neil took in again what he had already seen. Where there should have been a navel on Rivers’s abdomen there was nothing but smooth, pale skin. Valentine looked up at once, and Neil met his eyes, but before words could leave Valentine’s lips he buckled as Triss hit him in the back, her jaws closing around his shoulder. She whipped her head around, riding him to the ground as Neil leaped onto the table and stepped over Rivers, putting himself between her and Valentine who rolled and shoved Triss away, standing and facing Neil. “Move.” He said harshly.

“Fuck no.” Neil spat. “Stand down.”

“Fucking move!” Valentine roared, his legs propelling him forward at Neil, who had been training with the Sergeant enough to turn his right side to meet the blow. There was a hollow thud as Valentine collided with him, and the men went to the ground, Valentine’s legs twisting and writing in a practiced way, trying to lock Neil down. Triss leaps over the men and stood over the stunned Rivers, who was still gasping her breath back under control.

Neil lost the initial contact quickly, Valentine squirming around him and trying to disengage and get back to his feet.But Neil was quick too and manipulated Valentine’s ankle, drawing a hiss of pain as he went back to one knee. Then he turned back to Neil and swung his fist, catching Neil once, twice, and the third Neil caught, throwing his weight against the arm as best he could. Valentine went with it, and wrapped his arm around Neil’s shoulder, using his momentum to twist Neil into an awkward position.

But Neil was bent with his back to Valentine's chest, and hooked a leg around an ankle, sweeping hard and forcing his body back. The impact of Valentine’s back on the hard ground shook the table that Triss was still perched on, and Neil drove his right elbow back into Valentine’s ribs. There was a harsh snapping sound and a bellow of pain from Valentine as his grip loosened on Neil, the latter taking full advantage and getting the fingers of his metal hand between him and Valentine. With hardly a grunt of exertion, Neil broke Valentine’s hold, reversed once as Valentine grabbed at him again, and set the elbow of his right arm under Valentine’s chin. He cinched down.

Valentine hadn’t been expecting the pure, raw strength behind Neil’s attack. He knew at least two of his ribs were broken, and had begun itching as soon as the attack had met home. That vanished now as he not only felt his air supply cut off, but also felt like his head was about to pop off like a cork. The chittering in his ears that was ever present had started growing in volume since he had seen Rivers grew to a keen as his vision swam and became distorted. In his panicked thrashing, the chittering grew to something he had only ever heard in recordings. It sounded like a single, crashing roar in his mind with another layer underneath it. A moment later, at the edge of consciousness, the roaring faded and the chittering followed. After another moment of complete silence, a deafening whisper echoed around the inside of his head. It was a single word akin to what it would sound like if you stood at the mouth of a cave and could hear a snake hissing:

STOP.

Immediately, Neil’s chokehold slackened and was gone. Valentine sucked in cold air, gasping as he lay on his back, one hand on his furiously itching ribs as his vision came back into focus. He rolled onto his side, then levered himself up onto all fours, retched once, and vomited on the ground. Through swimming eyes he looked up at Neil. The First Sergeant made no further attempt to attack, his eyes wide and mouth open. Valentine looked at Rivers, who had moved to a sitting position. Her eyes were likewise round with shock, and Triss quietly sat on the table with her hackles smooth and eyes seeming to shine with satisfaction.

“W-- was that you?” Valentine gasped to the dog, who gave a small chuffing bark and a whine. Valentine didn’t speak dog, but his assumption of a negative was compounded when Neil looped his arms under Valentine’s and helped him to his feet. “That was all you, Val.” Neil said in a stunned voice. “Don’t know how I know that rightly, seeing as how it was dead quiet in here. But it came from you.”

Valentine stared blankly. “Me?”

“I was trying to get you down.” Neil said, almost apologetically, and added after a moment’s thought. “Still will too, but I was trying to be careful.” He flexed his fingers.

“That was careful?” Valentine said with a mixture of awe and irritation.

Neil’s eyes flashed. “You needed a minute to think and you were being too much of a fucking itiot to give it to yourself. So yeah, that was careful.”

Turning back to Rivers, Valentine looked over the place where her navel should have been again, then back to her face. She met his gaze, and for a moment it looked like she was going to give him a small smile. But she didn’t. Instead her fingers went into Triss’s fur, and the black dog scooted a little closer to her, eyes on Valentine.

“You’re a clone.” Valentine said in a flat voice.

Rivers nodded. “Trust me, Sergeant, it was a shock to me too.” Her voice was small, but steady. “You’re taking it a lot better than I did.”

It was Neil’s barking laugh that seemed to break the tension. Neither of the other two smiled, but Valentine let his face fall forward, focusing on his breath and Rivers relaxed visibly, her eyes on Neil. “You don't think--”

“Shut up.” Neil said, shaking his head and raising his right hand, wiggling his fingers. “It’s weird, okay. Might be weirder if I had seen you running around somewhere in the cluster, weirder still if I had known whoever you were before they pulled off whatever science magic they do with this bullshit.” Neil looked at his hand. “But… c’mon, let's call it what it is. I’m a cyborg, he’s a nanohost, and you’re a clone. What of it?” He let out a sigh, trying to force himself to believe the words with as much assurance as he was speaking them. “Three freaks, three weirdos. Three--”

“Demons.” A smooth, cool voice said from the doorway.

All three Sergeants turned to see Neerson standing there, a woman with eyes quite as wide as any of theirs at his side. “Commander Jericho,” Neerson said with a gesture. “Meet Sergeant Rivers, Sergeant First Class Valentine and,” His eyes flashed with pride and relief. “First Sergeant Ziggenbor. These are the subjects of Project Black Shuck.” Jericho’s eyes went between each person there, and the black dog, who was eyeing Neerson with disapproval.

“Ah yes,” Neerson said. “How could I forget? This very good girl is Triss, the sensible one in the group.”

Jericho’s face seemed to smooth out, as though she had reached the point of critical mass where things couldn’t get any stranger. “Oh.” She said.

Turning to Task Force Cerberus, Neerson addressed the Sergeants. “I make it a point of professional pride that I don’t assume the nature of a situation at face value. I will, however, in this case deduce that the both of you discovered the nature of Sergeant Rivers’s identity and that one of you,” his eyes fell on Sergeant Valentine, who had managed to get into a sitting position, grimacing in pain with a hand over his ribs. “Took that poorly.”

Valentine looked down and Neil stepped forward. “I should have acted sooner in Sergeant Rivers’s defense.” He said. “Sergeant Valentine was caught off guard. I take responsibility for him as my soldier.”

Neerson considered Neil and nodded. “I expect nothing less from you, First Sergeant, but I am not here to recite regulation or hand out punishment. Though not in the manner I would have hoped, you were to find out shortly in any case.”

“Oh.” Neil blinked. “I would have assumed Captain Benson would have been here.”

A smile flickered in and out on Neerson’s face. “He has business with your brothers, and I had full confidence in your ability to handle any such event, such as the one that just occurred.” He turned. “Sergeant Rivers, you are unharmed?”

“Yes sir.”

“Excellent. You have done well these past weeks.” The Admiral’s eyes turned to Triss. “And you?”

Triss gave a bark, her tail thumping on the table.

Neerson nodded and walked to Sergeant Valentine. “Sergeant. Stand to be addressed.” Valentine did so on unsteady legs, and faced Neerson with both defiance and embarrassment on his face. Neerson stared him down for a moment before saying, “Your actions were unacceptable, but they will not be punished. Nor will they be forgotten. I expect better from those under my command, am I understood?”

“Yes sir.” Valentine said.

“I hope you will take your First Sergeant’s attitude to heart as much as you will his words, and mine. You three,” He took a step back to address the Sergeants as a whole. “Are not nearly so different from each other as you would think. Each of you bears an unfortunate stigma, and each of you will need to come to grips with that. Both for yourself,” His eyes found Valentine again. “And for each other. To the common, good, stupid people of the cluster who are ignorant of the true dangers that lurk in the abyss, you are the demons in the dark. Gone are the skinwalkers and wendigos. Now they tell their children stories of cyborgs that have been twisted and mindless, nanohost individuals with terrible abilities that cannot be killed, and at their back armies of slave clones who will one day conquer all.” Once again his eyes swept back over the three. “With you, those stories remain far fetched fiction. Without, and in time the monsters may become reality. In time, you will have the opportunity to step from the shadows and be seen for the reality you are, not the perception that has so carefully been crafted for them. But it will take you all. And I will be there to stand behind you.”

Neeson clasped his hand behind his back and fell silent. The three Sergeants looked between each other, Valentine still massaging his throat.

“This is your mission sir?” Jericho asked in a hushed voice.

“This mission, Commander, is a very small part of the greater mission. A critical part, with which the rest cannot proceed.” Neerson said.

“Will we get a chance to talk about this, sir?”

“Indeed we will.” Neerson said, his voice clipped. “Now be quiet, please Commander.”

Jericho fell silent as Neerson stepped forward. “Gentlemen. I appreciate this is a delicate topic.” He turned to Rivers. “With your approval?”

She nodded once, and Neerson motioned for the three of them to follow. “You as well, Commander.” Neerson said. “We’ll add it to our list of topics that need discussing.”

Together the five of them walked a while in silence, only the clicking of Triss’s nail’s against the metal floor echoing throughout the dim corridors. Neerson stopped at a control panel and keyed in an access code, the first door in a set of three sliding open to allow them access to a corridor far longer than the last they had come from. As they walked down this one Neerson kept his eyes straight forward, as did Rivers. The other three peered around in apprehensive interest. Some way down the corridor there were alcoves cut, but none were illuminated until Neerson came to a small control terminal set into the floor. With a series of buttons the lights flickered on, revealing that the alcoves led down to small doors set into the ends. Each was labeled, and each appeared to be sealed tight. Neil saw CF-C2, CF-C3… and more of the like.

“Come.” Neerson said, and led them to the very end of the far hallways where there was no alcove, though there was a door labeled ECF-00. This Neerson approached. There was no control panel, and he turned the handle to the door. It swung open. At a gesture from Neerson they filed in. Like with so many of the other rooms in the Vulcan, it was dimly lit, though Neil could make out what looked like two cryo-tubes in the middle of the floor.

One was open.

Almost automatically they took up a small semi circle around these, with Jericho at their end and Rivers trying very hard not to look at the two tubes as Neerson vanished into the darkness of the room’s far end. Neil had an eerie feeling that festered in the pit of his stomach. Stealing a glance at Valentine, he noticed the man too looked apprehensive, tense, like the moments before combat.

The lights clicked on, bathing them in the artificial light. The room was not as large as Benson's maintenance bays, but larger than he would have expected, with a single upright tube against the far wall standing vertically. Neerson’s boots rang from somewhere off to his right, and Neil glanced to see a long work bench with what looked like operating materials and test tubes, microscopes and… some kind of wiry helmets that he didn’t recognize. The boots rang out again as Neerson approached the cryo-tubes that the five of them were standing around. Triss moved so that she was pressing up against Rivers’s leg, and Neerson looked at each one there in turn before he tapped a key.

The opaque quality of the cryo-tube vanished, confronting them with a sight that none of them were prepared for. What looked like red frost with threads set into it and mass of grey matter near the end of the tube. There were also bones that looked like they had been organized on its bottom, next to the threads. “Commander Jericho, Operators of Task Force Cerberus, meet Liliana Rivers of the Twelfth Command, Operation Sergeant Major of Task Force Group Three encompassing Hydra, Banshee, and Veritas.” Neerson said in a quiet, but unmistakably heavy voice.