Genvass and his closest advisors sat huddled in one of the smaller rooms while they dealt with the issues facing their fellow inmates.

“We desperately need more medical support,” Grand Master Makar informed him. “We’re critically short of antibiotics, intravenous fluids, and surgical supplies especially. Our current rations sit at roughly 1500 calories per person, which is just barely sustainable, but we’re already seeing starvation-related illnesses in some individuals. No signs of scurvy or kwashiorkor yet, thank Mother Terra, but unless something changes, it’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ll try to arrange a meeting with the camp administrator and see what can be done,” the ambassador said, “though even if he deigns to speak with me, there’s no guarantee he’ll grant my request.”

“Anything at all would be greatly appreciated,” the senior Knight said anxiously. “My clan is used to operating on a shoestring… though I suppose that’s true of all of us… but there’s only so much I can do with what I have.”

“I promise you, I’ll give it my best effort,” Genvass reassured him. “Anyone else have anything?”

“A couple of my people spotted an internee getting hauled off by the guards,” Captain Taneka said darkly.

“Who?” he said, instantly on alert and fearing the worst.

“One of the Dharmists,” she explained. “We’re not sure why they took them, or where they went.”

“Dig into it, and see what you can learn,” the ambassador instructed. “There’s several reasons why they might take someone out of the camp, all of them troubling. Since I’m already planning to meet with the administrator, I need to know the specifics if I’m to argue for their release.”

“I’m on it,” she nodded.

“Keep me informed,” Genvass directed her, before turning his attention back to the others. “Anything else?”

“Spotted some unfamiliar faces among our jailors,” Rúna stated, “and I don’t like the looks of ‘em.”

“What do you mean?” he asked her, though there was something about her tone that concerned him.

“Because I don’t think they are jailors,” she said bluntly, leaving them even more confused.

“Then what do you think they are then?” Remi prodded her.

She turned and fixed him with an icy gaze. “... Triggermen.”

Genvass rose to his feet, his face gone pale. “What are you saying?” he whispered.

Rúna took a deep breath. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” she said, “Terra knows I have. You do the work us Valkyries do, it leaves a mark. The clan has always done what it could to deal with the worst of it; enforcing obedience to higher authority, surrounding the troops with comrades to lean on, and counseling when possible, though the Knights do that better than we do,” she nodded towards the Grand Master. “But despite our best efforts, there will always be some who…”

She paused for a moment, steeling herself. “There will always be some who enjoy the killing, and aren’t all that particular about their target,” she finished in a quiet tone.

“And your clan does nothing?” Remi said in disgust.

She whirled to face him. “Don’t you dare lecture me on morality, pirate,” she snarled. “Why don’t we ask the To’uuk how many you’ve butchered? Oh, that’s right… we can’t.”

Captain Hadad’s face contorted in rage as he leapt to his feet, his fists clenched tight as he readied a blow even as Rúna prepared one in return, forcing Genvass to interpose himself between them once more.

“That’s enough!” he shouted. “We have enough problems as it is without adding to them. I expect both of you to act like professionals, and leave the brawling in the barroom where it belongs. Do I make myself clear?” he snapped.

The two glared at one another, neither giving a centimeter, before the Valkyrie got out, “Yes, Sir,” through gritted teeth, though she kept the fighting stance.

The ambassador turned to the Corsair. “And you?” he demanded.

Remi breathed hard, his chest heaving, before finally acknowledging the question. “... I hear you,” he answered, glowering as he slowly sat back down. After a moment’s pause, Rúna did likewise.

The others in the room let out a silent sigh of relief as the tension slowly ebbed. “I do not want to have this conversation again,” he continued, in a more reasonable-sounding voice. Once he was certain they wouldn’t simply pick back up where they’d left off, he addressed the Valkyrie. “Are you saying they’ve decided on our fate, Captain Aukes?”

“Maybe not,” she allowed, “but even if they haven’t made a final determination, I think it’s obvious they’re getting their assets in place, in case they get the order. It might not even be the Commandant, it could just as easily be some boot-licking subordinate hoping to score a few points. But either way, it’s clear to me that someone’s preparing to tie up any inconvenient loose ends when it all goes down.”

Silence filled the room as they digested that. “Well, we can’t say it’s a surprise,” Taneka said at last. “They’ve been working towards this since the beginning.”

“How I wish you were wrong,” Genvass said softly, before taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “All right, we need to be ready if the worst happens,” he continued, “though how well we’ll be able to defend ourselves without weapons…”

The door flew open as Sergeant Sultan burst into the room, startling its occupants. “Ma’am, we got activity at the main gate. Looks like a column just pulled up.”

Rúna was instantly on her feet. “Are they ours?” she asked the NCO.

“Sure looks like it could be,” Becca nodded. “Think I recognized a couple of faces.”

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The ambassador immediately joined her. “What does this mean?” he inquired.

“That we need to get our people ready without raising suspicion,” the captain replied. “If it is Holme and Inaba, then they must be running a bluff on the guards. Smart, but risky. I assume folks are already starting to rubberneck?” she continued, directing the last question to her subordinate.

“Oh yeah, and word’s spreading fast,” the sergeant confirmed. “I don’t think we got long before the shit hits the fan.”

That was all the confirmation she needed. “Ambassador, we’re a ‘Go’,” she said bluntly. “Whatever happens, we need to get the word out to the other inmates to keep calm and not panic. That’s the smartest thing they can do right now.”

Genvass nodded. “You heard the captain,” he told the others. “Spread the word, but be quiet about it. The last thing we want to do is alert the guards that something’s up.”

The group exited the room and headed outside, with Rúna and the others immediately splitting off to prepare for whatever was about to happen. All the prefabs were now disgorging curious onlookers as the word spread, as Genvass started making his way towards the entrance. He had to get a better view of what was happening, but as he drew closer, he felt a hand tug on his arm.

“You don’t want to get any closer,” Diggs said carefully, keeping his voice low even as the ambassador looked over in surprise. “Rúna asked me to stick by your side and keep you out of trouble. She’d be here herself, but…” He shrugged helplessly at the rest.

“I’m glad to have you with me,” he smiled, even as he craned his head for a better look. There appeared to be a column of vehicles at the main gate, their engines idling as a group conferred with the sentries posted there. More guardsmen spilled out of their own barracks, the crowd growing rapidly in size. Genvass could hear snatches of conversation from their discussion, though he couldn’t make out the details. Based on the intonation, however, it sounded as if an argument was brewing.

“Uh-oh,” Diggs said nervously, “I sure as hell know that sound. Mom makes the same one right before she swings a wrench.” Tightening his grip around the Dharmist’s arm, he started pulling him away from the entrance. “Mister Ambassador, we gotta get away from here now.”

Genvass resisted the effort to haul him to safety. “I have to know what’s happening,” he protested, struggling to hear what the guards were saying. One in particular… an officer, by the looks of him… was growing increasingly vehement, shouting and gesturing wildly as he made his point. Whoever he was speaking with, however, remained calm, answering his contentions as soberly as they could. Unfortunately, their words were having little effect in placating the irate commander.

“On second thought, maybe we should step back a bit,” Genvass said anxiously, allowing Diggs to guide him away from the escalating confrontation. The Tinker was in full agreement, urging him to move faster as they put some distance between them… when a sharp-sounding crack stopped him in his tracks. He whirled back to see what had happened, in time to see the commander topple to the ground.

And then all hell broke loose.

Weapon’s fire erupted from the convoy, taking the guards by surprise as Valkyries began piling out of the vehicles, rushing the wire as they sprang the trap. But the now besieged defenders began to recover as their barracks vomited additional reinforcements, adding their own fusillade to the carnage as more bodies fell.

The inmates panicked as the camp descended into chaos, screaming while they ran for cover or in random directions, or just froze in abject terror. Stray rounds whistled past their ears or impacted the surrounding dirt, though sadly some found innocent targets. An older man cried out in pain as he fell clutching his leg, while nearby a young boy, no older than six or seven, silently wept over the still form of a woman with long, dark hair. Genvass stared in horror at the carnage, even as Diggs fought to drag him away… when something inside him clicked.

He broke free of the young Tinker and rushed forward, landing beside the wounded man as he shouted back at Diggs, “Help the boy!”. The man’s trousers were shredded and soaked with blood, his face contorted in pain. “I’m here to help,” the ambassador said, holding him steady as he assessed the injury as best he could. His own First Aid training was both minimal and sorely untested, but the dilemma was obvious even to him. Tearing a hunk of cloth free from the damaged pant leg, he managed a crude dressing over the injury, at least slowing the blood loss. “Keep pressure on this,” he told the man, positioning his hands on top of the wound site, “someone will be here soon.” I hope, he thought desperately. At least he was stable for the moment. He wasn’t sure if the man understood or even heard him, but as he looked around, he could see others who needed assistance as well. Giving the man’s shoulder a quick squeeze, he went to lend a hand with Diggs and the child.

A massive explosion almost knocked him off his feet, making him stumble as a fireball roiled into the sky. He could feel its intense heat against his face even as the sounds of fighting grew more violent, but that was a situation for others to resolve. His hands were already full dealing with the crisis right in front of him. Arriving at his destination Genvass called out, “Is he hurt?”... but received no reply.

“Diggs, is he all right?” he said once more, only for the young Tinker to turn slowly in his direction, his face gaunt and pale as snow, his eyes hollow and vacant. His first thought was for the child, fearing the worst, but looking down he saw the lad was uninjured, though still weeping over his mother’s body. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he exclaimed, “Diggs! Diggs! Are you still with me?”

Nothing. He might as well have been talking to a tree. He shook him hard, shouting his name, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition, but it was there and gone in the blink of an eye. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? Whatever was wrong with him, it was far beyond his limited capabilities. What he needed was a Knight, not a linguist with delusions of grandeur. Physically, he seemed fine, with no obvious injuries, yet something was deeply wrong, nonetheless. Maybe he could try to jar him out of it, but he was loath to make the attempt. Diggs had suffered enough in his young life, and for all he knew, striking him would just make it worse.

Holy Mother Terra, please help him, he prayed, since there was nothing he could do for him. Instead, he knelt beside the child, taking his hand. “My name is Genvass, and we’re going to take you somewhere safe,” he said, as gently as he could. The boy looked up at him, his eyes wet and wide, doing little better psychologically than Diggs himself. Bowing his head, he picked up the child and held him close, the boy offering no resistance, instead clinging to him tightly as he sobbed.

With his free hand, he took Diggs by the arm, attempting to pull him away from the fighting. It took three tries before he began stumbling along beside him, almost as if he’d forgotten how to walk. Internees ran in every direction as the melee seemed to grow in intensity, and everywhere he looked there were wounded, as well as those who were beyond suffering. Moving to find someplace safe… if such a thing existed in this hellish nightmare… the child in his arms stiffened and began to shriek, “Mama! Mama!”

Diggs recoiled as if he’d been slapped.

Genvass’ eyes went wide as the pieces suddenly fell into place, only to have that realization brutally shoved aside when a figure suddenly appeared before them, their face contorted in rage. He could only stare in alarm as they raised a weapon, the gaping barrel looming large as it centered on his forehead. “Please…” he got out, instinctively turning away, attempting to shield his charges from what was about to happen, while knowing full well it would make no difference in the end.

A war cry split the night as the sound of colliding bodies spun him back around. Remi Haddad loomed over the fallen Valkyrie as he tore the weapon from his grasp, his eyes red with pure hate as he fired a burst into the guard’s body, ending the immediate threat.

Genvass fought to not throw up.

The Corsair sneered at the now lifeless corpse and then turned his gaze to those he’d just rescued. The ambassador, in particular, had his full attention; covered in blood, though none appeared to be his, carrying a distraught child and shepherding a borderline catatonic Diggs, his own expression one of horror and revulsion… and yet somehow, he was still holding on. By his fingernails, maybe, but he’d seen far worse in his time.

“Come on,” he told him, in much more respectful tones than he’d ever used before to address the Dharmist, “let’s get them out of here.”

He could only nod in dull acknowledgment as the pirate led them away from the fighting.