Michael had just drawn his blanket up to his chin when the fattest fella he’d ever seen waddled in dressed like some medieval knight, Lance following right after him. The doctors all froze at seeing the large man, face going pale as bedsheets before they went back to their individual tasks. They were scared of this guy, that was for sure. Michael understood somewhat, the dude might be fat but Michael could tell there was a mountain of muscle beneath all the pudge.

The walking tank then approached Michael’s cot, stopping at a gesture from Hoplite.

“Stay at that distance and don’t approach.” Hoplite told him, hefting up his legendary Fortis pistol.

“It’s okay Hoplite, he doesn’t mean any harm to the boy.” Lance said “Gali wants to send us off, and he has something for you.”

Hoplite paused for a moment before replying “Toss it to me.”

The big man, Gali, knit his brows together a moment before shaking his head and tossing the small pouch to Hoplite, who caught it in one hand in a fluid motion, gun still firmly trained on the big man. Gali for his part didn’t look all too intimidated by the hot lead-belching death-stick aimed right at his gut-plate. Michael would’ve been shaking in his boots if thirty-seven pointed a Fortis at him… Gali had balls, that was for sure.

Hoplite turned the pouch over in his hand a moment before asking “What is this?”

Gali cleared his throat before replying, a smile on his face “A gift made for you by us fiendwallers, something to commemorate your actions and to remind you of us in the future.”

Michael’s brows knit together in confusion. A gift for a Hoplite? That was illegal. Would thirty-seven arrest Gali himself or would he leave it for the higher ups to handle? Hoplite seemed too… quiet about this matter. Michael turned in his cot to stare at Hoplite’s smooth helmet, as if somehow he’d be able to pick up on the super-soldier’s intentions.

To Michael’s shock, Hoplite lowered his gun and began opening the small sack, pulling out a gleaming piece of metal. It was a palm-sized silvery shield, the image of a spiral etched into its surface. It looked like… a medal?

Hoplite’s weren’t allowed medals either, Michael knew it had something to do with how Hoplite’s were supposed to view themselves. Tools didn’t get rewards, they were simply there to be used, even thirty-seven. It was cruel in Michael’s eyes that Hoplite’s were forced into denying their humanity, but they were more effective that way… At least that’s what he was always told. Hoplite would have to deny the award of course, a sad thing really but-

Michael goggled as Hoplite slipped the medal into one of the pouches on his waist, his jaw dropping as he, with his own eyes, saw the super-soldier go directly against protocol.

“Thank you.” Hoplite told Gali in his usual monotone.

No, there was no way. There had to be another reason for why Hoplite took the medal… maybe he just wanted to be polite? This was apparently a lost colony right? These guys didn’t know Ternan law in the least… and considering the mob that had been outside just a moment ago, maybe Hoplite thought it would be better to simply accept the gift to avoid any offense. That had to be it.

“We have evidence that proves Michael’s innocence.” Hoplite said finally, pulling out the small flight recorder from the bag “This device recorded everything that happened before the crash.” Hoplite continued, holding up the black box “I looked through the footage and found that an unidentified hostile had managed to throw private Michael’s shuttle off course.”

Gali’s eyes shifted over to Michael, narrowing suspiciously for a moment before his eyes found Hoplite again.

“I know not know what you do be meaning by that exactly…” Gali said slowly, eyes narrowing on the flight recorder “ Would I be able to look through this device myself?” Gali asked, crossing his arms over his broad breastplate.

Without a word, Hoplite then pulled out a compact digi-pad from the bag. As Hoplite had done earlier, he drew out a retractable cord from the flight recorder, sliding the plug into the digi-pad before setting the black box on Michael’s cot. Thirty-seven then began tapping at the surface of the pad until finally, the audio of the footage could be heard. Michael’s skin went cold as he heard the screams of both himself and the other marines that had been onboard, pressing his hands into his ears to block out the horrid noise.

The flight recorder unfortunately also picked up on the noise from the inside of the shuttle… He shook his head, trying his best to avoid returning to the darkness of the pod, the stink of rot, the-

Michael bit his cheek hard, drawing blood and shocking him out of reliving his trauma. He needed to focus on something else, anything else. His eyes found Lance’s then, those green eyes moistening. Why was she about to cry? Michael himself was on the verge of tears… it was almost as if the elf knew exactly what he was feeling.

“Kazon!” Gali shouted suddenly, his booming voice barely muffled by Michael’s hands.

He turned from Lance to see that the large man had gone pale in the face, his jowls quivering as he stared down at the digipad Hoplite held out.

“That be the Lord of Hate himself, thief of Spiralling Death!” Gali shouted, the doctors in the med tent seeming to seize up from the mere mention of ‘Kazon’.

Color drained from Lance’s face as well, her jaw dropping a fraction “Y-you cannot know that for sure!” Lance shouted, all but trembling in her cloak “He’s not been seen outside the Fiendwood in centuries…”

“Aye, not outside the Fiendwood…” Gali began, letting out a tired breath before continuing “But we fiendwallers see him constantly. He likes to hover high above our wall, I’ve seen him myself. The Lord of Hate no bring us harm so far, but now… now though, I do suspect that he do be preparing to unleash Spiralling Death upon Ahkoolis once again.”

Michael blinked in confusion as he stared first at Gali, then at Lance. What the hell were they talking about? It sounded like some kinda plot to an old timey story-book, the kind where the hero has to battle a villain with a bunch of nefarious titles. Just what had all this turned into?

After a long pause, Gali nodded “Aye, that’s good enough for me.” He said, looking to Michael “The boy be innocent, I offer succor until you all decide to depart. Having you around” Gali said, looking to Hoplite “Would be a boon. I can provide you permanent lodgings in exchange for your service to our wall.”

“Negative.” Hoplite replied, not giving any further explanation.

“That do be unfortunate… but we are fiendwallers, we will manage.” Gali said “Would you like my defenders to come guard the boy?”

“Negative.” Hoplite said again in a flat tone “Your defenders could be compromised, they might try and kill private Michael.”

Gali lifted an almost amused looking eyebrow at Hoplite’s words. Lance’s eyes widened in surprise at the fat man’s expression, and Michael’s brow furrowed.

“Somethin’ you know that we don’t?” Michael asked him.

Gali cleared his throat “The defenders are… well, they do be bound to me. They are unable to resist my commands… but I do be thinking that you’d need to see such a thing to believe it. I do like to think that they follow my orders of their own free will nowadays… but I still can force them if I do have to.” Gali said, finishing with a small groan “I no want to pressure them however, they be good fellows. Tell you what hero, how’s about I give you your own tent to keep your boy in, set it up where you want and I will no tell anyone where it is.”

Hoplite paused a moment. Just what was thirty-seven thinking? Michael himself thought it was a pretty good idea. He’d sleep anywhere away from this camp, just enough to recover completely. Michael would need his strength to properly aim his rifle to get his revenge. If somehow Michael met this Kazon freak, he’d put a bullet right between his eyes. He wanted to avenge both his fellow marines, and the innocent civilians that had died.

Michael wouldn’t have believed that someone could have been physically capable of pulling an escape shuttle off course… If he hadn’t seen the footage for himself of course. That pitch black cloak ripping in the wind, silvery hands ripping out cords and chunks of tungsteel like they were foil… and worst of all, those piercing yellow eyes, slitted like some kinda serpent.

Michael still got shivers thinking about it… to think that someone who wasn’t Lord Jyn could pull something like that off… It was insane. Could thirty-seven even handle someone like that? Hopefully this ‘Kazon’ wasn’t bulletproof. Now… How long was Michael going to be bedridden?

With how he was feeling now, he’d probably be up and ready to go wherever Hoplite wanted here pretty soon… Michael could probably even get going tomorrow. He would really like to sleep somewhere outside this camp though. That tent Gali mentioned sounded like a good idea to Michael.

“...Affirmative.” Hoplite said “We’ll get it set up tonight.”

“Aye I’ll have the tent brought to you now.” Gali said, not moving an inch from where he stood.

A long moment of silence passed before Lance spoke up.

“I-I thought you were going to go get it?” She asked, stuttering.

It seemed she was still shaken up at the mention of Kazon, the color had not returned to her face.

Gali blinked and looked her way “Sorry, I do be forgettin’ that you folk no understand how the bond works.”

The bond? Probably like… Michael couldn’t really put a word to it, those bionics that the higher ups used to communicate through thought. Those were rare though, and fat chance that Gali would have one installed.

“My defenders do be linked with my intent, as are all defenders to mayors. That’s how it’s been since the Fiendwall was formed from the bedrock deep beneath this soil.” Gali said, linking his hands together over his gut-plate.

Michael stared “So… they’re coming with the tent.” He paused “Right now.”

“Aye.” Gali replied casually, as if Michael had asked him if they were breathing air.

“...Alright then.” Michael said after a moment's pause, turning to look up at Hoplite “Sir? Do you know where we’ll set up camp?” Michael asked.

Hoplite simply nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

“Sir?” Michael asked again.

“We’ll leave soon.” Hoplite replied curtly.

Lance sighed and shook her head lightly as Gali turned his head toward the tent flap, as if he had heard something approaching. And sure enough, something was. An armored man with a tall tower shield and spear in one hand and a rolled up canvas bundle in the other marched straight for Gali, stopping next to him before tossing cot Hoplite the bundle. Thirty-seven caught it easily in his free hand, holding it aloft to inspect it.

The guy then bowed to Gali, and simply walked off after a word of thanks from the mayor.

“That do be a tent capable of fitting ten men, I could send for some smaller separate tents though if you wish.” Gali said as Hoplite lifted the bag up to his helmet.

“Negative. This will work fine. Thank you.” Hoplite said.

Michael then yawned before pulling the blanket up over his head. He was getting pretty sleepy … sleepy… Wait… now it was too dark! He briefly panicked a moment before Michael remembered what he promised himself he’d do once he got out of that darkness. That was more important than his fear by leagues. He pulled the blanket back down to look at Hoplite with eyes full of intent, drawing his attention from Lance.

“They were buried right?” Michael asked groggily, keeping a firm tone as best as he could.

Hoplite nodded “Affirmative. I took care of it myself.”

Michael sniffed, his eyes filming over with unshed tears as Lance gave a small nod, a tiny frown on her face as she looked him right in the eyes.

“Aye, Hoplite would no let anyone touch the bodies. That do seem to have been the right choice, considering.” Gali said silently.

Michael nodded, his chin quivering as he turned his head from their gaze. He would not let them see him weep, especially not the Hoplite. Michael hadn’t really known them, but they had still been marines. They had all gone through the same hellish training Michael had, and they had fought the same relentless enemy. Somehow, they all died while Michael got to live…

No, he would not let the guilt drag him down. It wasn’t Michael’s fault…

It was Kazon’s.