Fog twisted in the darkness, dulling what little moonlight made it past the clouds. The damp air clung to stone-cold skin, traced little rivers in the grooves of metal armor.

The Disunionites crouched behind their stolen walls, clutching weapons taken from the dead on the battlefield, wearing the gear of Alliance soldiery. Rebels fought well when hitting from behind; they defended well when hiding in their broken "free" wilderness. What they weren't so good at was standing ground against the Cores.

The fort was as good as taken the moment glowing lines of cybersoldiers appeared out of the fog.

A hundred Ariers units formed the vanguard, ballistic weapons in hand and Ex-raptors prowling at their knees. The electric glow of cybernetics betrayed them, but Ariers weren't meant for stealth. Their red lines and black uniforms, the sheer number of them compared to the older, smaller Cores, all contributed to their one defining characteristic - spreading fear.

The Disunion soldier held up his empty hands, an outdated accent coloring his desperate surrender. Edom R. considered the man, his programming preventing any sense of pity for the terrified rebel, but there was enough pale curiosity to allow him to hold back the killing blow.

It nagged him, the knowledge that he had no more idea what would happen to the rebel after surrender then the rebel himself did. Was it even worth accepting surrenders? It wasn't a mandate; he didn't have to. Their ancestors had all signed their death warrants when they joined the Disunity Pact.

A Forbidden thought attempted to surface and was blocked from higher up the chain. Edom gestured for the rebel to rise and sent a thought-command to German, ordering his Excire to herd the prisoner back to the prisoner drop off. His teal-streaked companion hissed a confirmation and nipped at the rebel's heel to get him moving.

A couple hundred disorganized men, armed with stolen weaponry, against the cyber-soldiers of the Alliance. Edom watched as what prisoners the rest of the Cores had taken were escorted back to base, almost awed by their...

He didn't even have a word for it. What emotion, forbidden or otherwise, could drive individuals to fight impossible odds? Was it just broken programming inside their living heads, making them act erratic? What drove those who did not live beneath the driving mind of a dragon?

His thoughts wandered, but no answers came.

With no immediate orders to follow, Edom joined the rest of Ocearius Core as they gathered at their deployment point. The fifty-unit Core had been reduced to ten over the last two years, and German one of only seven Ex-raptors left to serve them. It might look pitiful to an outsider, looking from the hundreds-strong Ariers Core in their circle of red to the ten teal Ocearius units in a tiny line, but to Edom this was home. It made a little spark of warmth - probably just some quirk of the electronics that ran through his body - glow in the middle of his cold chest.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Good to see you survived," whispered Gile S. as she slipped into line beside him. "Oh, and Edom, too."

Edom grinned as she bent to scratch German beneath the chin. The raptor tilted up into her hand and thrilled deep in his throat, and Edom didn't need their combat-link to be active to feel the undead-dinosaur's pleasure.

"Back at you, Gile."

Then, from further down the line, "Tsst!"

Gile S. straightened sharply and Edom called German to heel, and in a heartbeat the line was back to perfect. The debriefing officer was still a fair distance away, but it wouldn't do to be caught behaving lax.

Debriefing Ocearius was easy. The Ariers officers would be gathering reports for hours, but the one balding lieutenant sent to Edom's core only had ten to gather. And cyber-soldiers knew how to keep it quick.

"Eleven enemy mortalities, six raptor-assisted," Edom listed off at his turn. "One prisoner taken, sent for interrogation. No injuries to report. Awaiting further orders."

"Report to the CSC tent after dismissal," commanded the officer, marking down the numbers on his clipboard. "Gile S., report."

Edom blinked, somewhat surprised. That was different.

And it was just him. Everyone else got the same orders - "Return to your barracks after dismissal." Cyber-Soldier Command was... out of the ordinary.

"Ocearius Core, dismissed."

Edom caught Gile S.'s wrist. "Take German with you?" he asked quietly, and she nodded wordlessly. German wasn't nearly as eager, but he obediently followed behind as she walked away, though not without a glance back at Edom accusingly.

Sorry, buddy. Excires aren't welcome in Command.

He felt unusually alone, walking to the edge of cyber-camp. He passed the medical tents, passed the critically-damaged Ariers units waiting for repair or recalled. CSC stood alone, past all the commonly-used cyber facilities, between cyber-camp and the temporary quarters for their living counterparts. Walking to CSC felt almost like trespassing, and it didn't help Edom's peace of mind that no one felt the need to censor that thought as it entered his head.

Unmodified living humans moved back and forth between the half-dozen temporary structures that made up Cyber-Soldier Command. Monitoring stations, communications, the strategy room... Edom had never been to any of them, but he knew them from rumor. The CSC tent, though, the only one that would be any of his business, was the commander's, marked by a narrow banner. Edom let his mind go blank and presented himself to the guards outside with a salute.

"Edom R., Ocearius, reporting as requested."

One guarded tapped his clip, the external communication device half the Alliance had tucked around their ears, and announced Edom's arrival. A moment later, Edom was nodded into the tent.

CS Commander inspired a lot of things - awe, fear, respect - but it was all just safe-guarding. Edom saw a fairly ordinary-looking middle-aged man in uniform, and everything inside his head screamed "Superior. Obey!" at him.

The commander glanced at Edom as he entered, then at the flat computer on his desk, then back up at Edom. No small-talk, no formalities. Just the sentence.

"You're being recalled."