"...CURRENT EMERGENCY HAS PASSED. POPULATION MAY RETURN TO THEIR HOMES ONCE SHELTER COMMANDERS VERIFY SAFETY. IF YOU ARE SHELTERING IN PLACE, IT IS NOMINALLY SAFE TO RETURN TO YOUR DOMICILE, PLACE OF WORK, PLACE OF BUSINESS, OR PLACE OF WORSHIP. PLANETARY DEFENSE HAS DETERMINED THAT THE CURRENT EMERGENCY HAS PASSED..."

"...the case that a deceased remains are spotted, please inform proper authorities so that the remains may be catalogued, retrieved, and processed. Estimates state those of you who have survived are needed more than ever to create and maintain a sense of normalcy..."

Vuxten reached out and turned off the newscast, turning and looking out the window.

The base was trashed. The fires were out, but smoke was still rising here and there, now gray instead of white, blue, or dark black shot through with red. Vehicles were still scattered willy-nilly.

As he watched, a group of privates got behind one of the vehicles. One opened the driver's side door, grabbing the steering wheel, popping the vehicle into neutral.

The privates pushed the vehicle off the road, then moved up to the next one.

Graves registration had been hard at work and they estimated 80% of the military deceased had been recovered. Civilian workers were still hard pressed, with an estimate of only 15% of the civilian deceased having been recovered.

"How bad is it in the engineer caste?" Vuxten asked, watching the privates get ready to push a light armored vehicle off the road.

--bad bad-- 471 said. Sad emojis popped up. --we lost 75.282% of us. most working didn't know what happening until shades grabbed--

"The universe reached out and 1%'d us," Vuxten said softly.

--could give equation to show not right but sure feel that way right now-- 471 said. He jumped from his own desk to Vuxten's, then to Vuxten's arm and climbed up.

The private reaching inside hit the electronics, bringing the control yoke live. The flashers kicked in and Vuxten could almost hear the metallic clink the relay made.

"Even in death, they still kill," Vuxten said softly. He sighed. "The Atrekna wiped them out and they turned around and wiped everyone out, even the Atrekna."

Two of the privates were unhooking the crew served weapons from the ring mounts and double-checking the TUSK systems to make sure the weapons weren't live any longer.

--am mantid know to fear humans-- 471 said. He took off his tiny beret, polishing the small regimental crest, then putting it back on his head. --any species say they not fear humans stupid premiere survival oriented species of the known galaxy--

"Yeah," Vuxten said, watching as the privates put everything they had into pushing the LAV. They were rocking it and it was finally starting to move. Vuxten knew as soon as they broke inertia and got it moving it would go into the ditch with the other vehicles. "Let's go help."

--officer now-- 471 said.

"The Division took almost 40% casualties," Vuxten said, turning and grabbed his softcap. He walked out of the building, tugging it on, and jogged over to where the privates were pushing. He noted that none of them had armajaks in the back of their necks.

"Need Casey in a loading frame," Vuxten joked.

--don't need lav thrown into sun-- 471 snarked back, adding a quick set of emojis.

"Where's the nearest frame we can unlock and reset?" Vuxten asked.

There was quiet for a second.

-- outside armory-- 471 said.

Vuxten turned around and went back into the building, going down the steps and hanging a quick right to move down the hallway.

THere was an empty loading frame, slumped down. There was deep dents in the door to the armory and someone had ripped the cage door off from the outside and then ripped it apart. Vuxten did a quick count and saw that two of the bars were missing. They were high grade battlesteel, of limited use, but had probably been better than nothing.

471 jumped from his shoulder to the frame. The frame jerked, straightened up, and the telltale LEDs started blinking.

--died in frame so gonna have to purge and restart-- 471 said.

Vuxten got a piece of stimgum out of his pocket, carefully unwrapping it, popping it in his mouth, then folding the waxed paper into a triangle before putting it in his pocket. He took off his shirt and took a minute to pull his rank off, then pulled the rank off his hat.

It took a couple of restarts, but finally 471 motioned.

"You know, I've never used one of these," Vuxten said.

--think upstrength power armor no armor or weapons disable tools like fusion torch and impact wrench and plasma cutter-- 471 said.

"Help me walk so I don't fall on my face in front of the privates," Vuxten said.

--I'll try-- 471 said, putting up a smiley face emoji. --loaded telkan biometrics into firmware was a tukna'rn in frame before died--

"Thanks." Vuxten felt the cable snake around and slide into the cyberjack at the base of his skull. He felt the collar rings spin, locking in place, then the frame went live to his senses. His retinal link was still on text only and he watched the startup go by.

Finally, the frame released and Vuxten held up one hand. He ran the finger check, then checked each joint. He turned and moved out of the building, taking it slow, like he was in the old scout armor he had once worn.

The threat of rain had made good on its promise and small drops were misting down.

"ONE! TWO! THREE!" one of the privates chanted.

The LAV was rocking back and forth and Vuxten could tell it was going to break inertia any second.

"ONE! TWO! THREE!" the same private yelled.

Vuxten moved up, the frame hissing and whirring, then leaned over one of the privates, slamming one hand against the back. The ones on either side glanced at him, their faces covered with sweat, their fur wet, or panting hard if they didn't sweat.

"ONE!" the private yelled.

Vuxten pushed with the others, careful not to push too hard. The vehicle started to roll.

"TWO!" the same private yelled. Everyone eased off, letting it roll back. Vuxten rocked back slightly.

"THREE!" Vuxten pushed a little harder. This time the vehicle started moving.

He helped push it into the ditch then looked at the private in charge, who had an honest to Digital Omnimessiah wax covered paper map in his hand. He was marking it. He looked up. "You in the frame, you rated?"

"Power armor jockey," Vuxten said truthfully.

"Close enough. We can use you," the private said.

"That's why I grabbed the frame and came out here," Vuxten said. He tilted his head. "Got my greenie with me."

"All right," The PFC nodded. "OK, next one," the private, and Vuxten could see the Private First Class rank on his lapel and the middle of his blouse enclosure.

Vuxten didn't say anything, just followed the others. A few of the privates glanced at him, but Vuxten was pretty sure they didn't recognize him.

The afternoon went slowly. Checking the vehicle to see if Grave's Registration had missed a body. Secure any weapons or loose ammo. Put the vehicle in neutral, hit the power if needed, then push it into the ditch and move on.

At nineteen hundred Vuxten sighed, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead. He took a second in the near-darkness to put his rank back on his hat before he put it on. He moved up to the PFC, who hadin his mouth a Treana'ad smoke stick from the pack they'd found on the dash of a cargo truck.

"Time to get chow and let the men get some rest," Vuxten said.

The PFC went to say something, caught the rank, and stiffened. He blinked slowly, then relaxed. "Yes, sir."

"Give my compliments to your work crew," Vuxten said. He turned and headed out. He heard a couple of the privates yell "hey!" but kept going.

--feel better-- 471 asked.

"Surprisingly, yes," Vuxten said. He sighed as he moved through the rapidly darkening rainy night. "I needed something that the world didn't depend on my doing."

--and you're enlisted at heart-- 471 suggested.

"I tell myself that, yeah," Vuxten said.

He saw that there was a grouping of cars all pointing inward. In the middle of the lit circle was an outdoor cooker, three Treana'ad, two Tukna'rn, and a pair of Hikken. Vuxten moved up and saw the Colonel was using his bladearm to turn over a piece of meat frying over open flame. The Colonel saw Vuxten and waved him over.

"So, Major, how did the road clearing go?" the Colonel asked.

"Lot more to do. Vehicles are scattered everywhere," Vuxten said.

The Colonel nodded. "Got the datalink connection to the PFC that was in charge?" he asked.

Vuxten didn't bother to ask how the Colonel knew all about it.

"Yes, sir," Vuxten said.

"Well, ring them up. Tell them steaks and fizzybrew are on me," the Colonel said. He flipped another steak over. "Base will lose power in the next hour or so."

Vuxten frowned. "Really? Why?"

The Colonel pointed off toward the far side of base with one bladearm. "Nobody alive knows how to run the reactor or keep it from going into automatic shutdown. Nobody has the access to crack it."

--could crack doors find buddies to run it-- 471 said.

"I've asked the greenies, they said they want to inspect it first. Looks like there was some fighting that might have damaged it," the Colonel said.

--oh--

Vuxten touched his datalink and rang the PFC's datalink connection.

"What? Who's this?" the PFC asked.

"Major Vuxten, Private, you might remember me from such orders as: 'push with your OTHER right' and 'are you fucking stupid?' from earlier," an embarrassed silence followed and Vuxten grinned. "Chow hall might be closed. Come to 432nd Maintenance and Support Brigade's HHC parking lot, we're having BBQ and beer," Vuxten said.

"Roger that, sir," the PFC said. The link closed and Vuxten turned just in time to see Colonel Ashwarkek hold out a plate of food, the Rigellian female smiling as best she could with half of her face slack from a graze by a shade's hand.

Vuxten hit the eject and felt the dataplug unlock, then stepped out of the loading frame, taking the dish from the Colonel. 471 jumped onto his shoulder and the Colonel handed 471 a small plate loaded with food.

"Don't spill that on his shoulder," the Colonel said, smiling the best she could.

Vuxten was familiar with all the food. Potato salad, corn on the cob, and steaks. A weird quirk made it so that most races like those foods, unless they didn't like to eat meat. Vuxten wasn't the first, the only, and certainly wouldn't be the last sentient to think it strange that a planet that hated everything like Terra did produced so many types of foodstuff in grains and tubers that almost every sentient could eat.

The PFC showed up with his gang of thugs he called a work party.

"Get close, men, belly up to the BBQ and tell me how you like your steaks," the Colonel Brett T'Klakak said, holding up one of the cybernetic fingers on his cyberarm. The tip of the finger flipped back and a flame appeared, which the Colonel used to light his cigarette. "Grab some fizzybrew, boys."

The work crew nodded gratefully, looking slightly surprised when Colonel Ashwarkek handed them their choice of fizzybrews.

Vuxten just sat on the hood of the car, which still had the flags denoting it was a three star general's personal conveyance, eating his meal quietly.

"Some day, huh, sir?" Bit.nek said.

Vuxten looked over, frowning, wondering when the Private had arrived. He had two other privates with him that Vuxten hadn't seen.

Bit.nek jerked a thumb at the Hesstlan. "That's Almret," he jerked the same thumb at the Hikken female. "That's Cathy."

Vuxten nodded. "Good to meet you two face to face," he said.

The Hikken just nodded and moved to the line to get some food.

"She's still a little put out with you about some of those orders," Almret said. He shrugged. "She'll get over her industrial grade butt hurt or she won't," the Hesstlan caught the beer the Rigellian female Colonel threw him. "I heard the Conex Brothel is already open."

"Of course it is," Vuxten snorted.

"I'll take her down there, get her rolled through the hay a couple of times, tell her you paid for it, that'll ease up her butt hurt good," Almret said.

"Or make it worse," Bit.nek snickered. "You know Cathy."

Almret just snickered and didn't even flinch when Cathy walked back up and slugged him in the shoulder.

Vuxten noticed that the Almret didn't even ask what it was for.

"Tommorrow, we'll keep doing what we're doing," the big Treana'ad Colonel said.

The lights chose that moment to wink out. The vehicle headlights were the only thing keeping the circle lit.

"There goes the fusion plant," someone said.

"See, the failsafes worked," someone else said.

"It's a problem for tomorrow," the big Treana'ad Colonel said. "Right now, let's eat."

He paused for a second then lifted us his beer.

"We'll just let tomorrow take care of itself just like it always does."

Everyone else lifted their beers.

Vuxten looked out over the dark base, looked out to where there should have been brightly lit barracks and office buildings.

The skyline was dark. The silhouettes of the buildings broke up the starfield beyond, no lights visible anywhere.

Out in the distance an animal gave a hunting cry.

Other animals gave the same cry in reply.

Vuxten rubbed his upper arms, staring at the darkness.

It gave him chills and he didn't know why.