Ge'ermo'o watched as the Telkan officer limped into the conference room, escorted by the First Telkan Marine Division Commander. With him was a big human, who Ge'ermo'o recognized as the former Sergeant First Class by the name of Casey.

In the room was Smokey 'No, Lieutenant General of the Bronze Vhestlak (who was in charge of military intelligence for V Corps), and Admiral Shtuklar as well as a handful of aides and analysts.

"Sirs," the Telkan said. It took Ge'ermo'o a minute to remember his name.

Vuxten. Some of the Terrans used to call him Krakatoa as an internal call sign, although Ge'ermo'o hadn't been able to determine the answer for why they would do that. Ge'ermo'o had to admit the word was phonetically enjoyable to say, so perhaps that was it?

"Sirs," the big human said. Ge'ermo'o noted that the human's eye was lit with a cold amber light and he wondered if the empty eye socket beneath the eye patch would have an amber light or a small pearl of amber fire inside the socket. Ge'ermo'o wondered, for a moment, if that was why Terran cybereyes were the best, because if they weren't, a pearl of amber fire would melt them.

Ge'ermo'o pulled his attention back as General Vrawgarkwa, Commander of First Telkan Marine Division, exited the turbolift, nodded at everyone, then pointed at a chair and looked at Captain Vuxten. "Have a seat."

Vuxten nodded, feeling nervous about being around so many beings of such lofty rank. He moved over to the chair and sat down, his leg straight out in the traction cast.

"What injured your leg, Captain?" Ge'ermo'o asked. He had heard that First Telkan had been exceedingly lucky and had suffered no killed in action, but a higher than estimated metric of wounded in action.

"Cumulative damage to my knee resulted in blade and laser surgery to repair it," Vuxten said. The Lanaktallan's gaze was particularly intent. He was the one Vuxten had always seen around the command centers.

Vuxten had also seen him more than once standing by himself, talking to himself as if he was talking on his datalink, but the telltales on the datalink had always been green.

Vuxten had wondered more than once if the Lanaktallan was crazy.

"No quikheal?" Ge'ermo'o asked.

"No. They said it has to heal naturally, sir," Vuxten said.

The Lanaktallan nodded slowly. "If that is what the doctors have said, then that is what must occur," he said, then went back to staring at the holotank.

"Tell me what exactly is going on," General Vhestlak said, facing Casey, who was standing at attention. "At ease, Lance Corporal."

Casey shifted his feet. "You'll need some background first, sir."

The General nodded. "Very well."

"I started dating Specialist Peel back a little over a hundred years ago. I get in sticky situations now and then, and sometimes we want to talk without people knowing," Casey started.

"To exchange genitalia images and erotic texts," Ge'ermo'o nodded, folding all four arms. "An understandable action."

Vuxten noticed that a few of the officers looked embarrassed while the Lanaktallan looked pleased with himself.

"Uh, yes, sir. Anyway, about a hundred years ago I whipped up a paired spooky particle pulse communicator out of one of the appendixes in TM 11-5820-890-29G-7. Low bandwidth, but still, we could exchange still images at 2K resolution," Casey said, flushing slightly. "Our command knew, it wasn't that big of a deal."

Ge'ermo'o checked his datalink and found out that the referenced manual was one concerning the repair and maintenance of esoteric communications equipment, most of which was considered obsolete by the Terran Confederacy. The Lanaktallan felt gratified that a lot of other people's datalinks showed access.

"That was the device you used when you were in the ancient Mantid facility, correct?" Smokey 'No asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Yes, sir," Casey said. "We used it to get stuff like roasted turkey food forge templates and stuff like that so we didn't have to shoot our way out of there. The Captain was with us."

Vuxten nodded slowly, but stayed silent as a bunch of the officers glanced at him, then back to Casey as the big human kept talking.

"After Peel died, I went a little... um... off, you know?" Casey said. He sighed and went over to sit down in one of the chairs. Ge'emo'o noticed that the human moved as if he was elderly and carrying a great weight. "Then, you know, the whole Black Cauldron, me and Lozen, then shooting Peel in the head, I figured she was gone forever."

"Why did you keep the transmitter?" Smokey 'No asked. "No accusation, just curious."

"It's one of the few momentos I have, and my mental health tech told me that having it might help me overcome my grief eventually. It's the only piece from my Ordnance days and from my frame that I've still got. My mental health mechanic, she says that maybe talking to it like I'm talking to her might help me when I have a bad day," Casey admitted, turning red again. He cleared his throat. "I was being counseled by Captain Vuxten when it went off, letting me know I had a message."

He held up the little box. "I checked it, and there was a message from Peel with a timestamp less than an hour old."

They all looked at Vuxten who nodded. "I was there when it went off."

"And you're sure it's Specialist Peel?" General Vhestlak asked.

"We use certain code phrases," Casey flushed again. "Uh, it's doubtful any enemy would know them."

That made everyone nod, and Vuxten noticed that nobody pushed the big Terran.

"Are you sure it's a recent message?" Smokey 'No asked.

"She's answering, so it isn't a message that got tangled up in the spooky particles," Casey said. "I'll admit, part of my hoped, was afraid, that the message I got had been tangled up for a couple years."

"All right, so, what's the big deal? Is she on the planet?" General Vhestlak asked. He looked at Vuxten. "What's the reason for a priority meeting request?"

"It's better if he explains it," Vuxten said.

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"Well, soldier? Is she somewhere near the Black Cauldron deployment zone?" General Vhestlak asked.

Casey shook his head. "No. According to her, she's on an Atrekna research station with two other people."

General Vhestlak snapped his fingers, getting the attention to two of his aides, before turning back to Casey. "Who is she with?"

"One of the Regulators. Their Team Daddy, a Major Acharya, out of Delta Company 108th M.I. and someone by the name of," Casey looked at the little display again. "Lady Khoonkeenadee," Casey looked up. "She was careful to spell it out," he said, then slowly, carefully spelled it out, looking at the display.

Ge'emo'o though it was an impressive name. Suitably long, full of vowels, it was a civilized name, Ge'ermo'o decided.

The General turned to his two aides. "Major Acharya should be in our files. I want everything about him," he looked at the other. "I want to find out everything about this Lady Khoonkeenadee. Where she was born, who her parents are, her favorite foods, where she went to school, what grades she got, who her favorite teacher was, everything. I wanna know if she prefers being a Twinkie or a Toaster Strudel. Find out everything you can about her, then dig deeper and get me the rest."

Both aides nodded, looking down at their work stations.

Vuxten checked his datalink for what that least part meant. When he saw he carefully kept from laughing. Crude, but not crude at the same time, he thought.

The data came in slowly at first. Ge'ermo'o and Vuxten listened as Major Acharya's record, training, early life, education, background, and parentage came in. Vuxten had to admit he was impressed, the Terran sounded like a wrecking machine. He'd been killed due to SUDS error during the First Telkan War, and had been awaiting reassignment out of V Corps when the Great Die Off had gone down. Apparently he'd held off an entire Precursor assault by himself for nearly ten minutes, after already being severely damaged, while Death Horse from 11th ACR had rescued Telkans who had been experimented on. That had merely been the most recent in a long string of rescue operations, deep strike operations, and high kinetic combat assaults.

Lady Khoonkeenadee proved to be a bit harder. Ge'ermo'o watched with interest, noticing the difference between Unified Council intelligence gathering on a short notice and Terran Confederacy.

Lady Khoonkeenadee was well known for over two hundred years on a planet where people lived the lives of primitives surrounded on all sides by hostile creatures with impossible abilities, including great biological wrecking machines known as 'dragons'. She was a warrior leader, the right hand to a powerful king.

Ge'ermo'o admitted to himself he would have never thought to look up the type of nanites that were used, where they had come from, and how the entertainment world fabricated them. He carefully concealed his anxiety at the thought of a Terran walking around with a biological organ that produced nanites of the same type as existed inside of a creation engine, as well as the neural wetware to control them.

"She didn't just appear by magic on that world. Dig deeper," General Vhestlak ordered.

Ge'ermo'o nodded. Perhaps there was more information that would be pertinent.

When the information came in that she had been previously on other primitivism worlds, the reason for her ejections were varied and interesting.

"Wait, what is a 'world engine'?" Ge'ermo'o asked.

"The creation engine that produces the world's 'soup' and controls it," an aide said. "It gave her full control over the entire planet's nanite systems, effectively making her a god."

Ge'ermo'o nodded, thinking. The Terran female would be able to destroy her enemies with ease, cause famine, drought, adjust the weather, all to her whims. She could even dim the sun. Ge'ermo'o slowly thought through all the permutations of such power.

Then he considered how she had voluntarily given it up when asked.

"Got her real name," one of the aides said. "Mukantagara Elizabeth Carnight, born as the first baby of 8,000 PG," the aide frowned. "Medical records indicate that... oh. Sirs! Sirs, you need to see this!"

Most of the officers turned to the holotank. General Vhestlak stared at the aide, a BASS chimera, foxlike features with electric blue and white fur.

"What is..." General Vhestlak started to ask.

Ge'ermo'o was still parsing the fact that the Terrans could run a genetic analysis on a living being within fractions of a second. The DNA strand in the holotank looked normal, even though small sections were flashing red.

"Digital Omnimessiah preserve us," Smokey 'No said softly. He inhaled deeply on the cigarettes and exhaled forcefully through his two legs.

"What is it?" Vuxten asked, staring.

"A birth defect. Her DNA is auto-correcting and pre-Glassing. You don't see that outside of anthropology and museums," Casey said. "Well, outside of planets like I grew up on, that eschew genetic alterations."

Vuxten and Ge'ermo'o both looked at Casey, who shrugged. "You pick up stuff."

Ge'ermo'o nodded sagely.

"So, we've got the Team Daddy for the Regulators, a highly decorated military intelligence covert action controller, and an expert on hand to hand medieval warfare and nanite control who's a genetic throwback to before the Glassing, all on an Atrekna research station?" Smokey 'No asked.

Everyone nodded.

Smokey 'No suddenly laughed. "Well, there's no need to wonder how they went from prisoners to owning the station. That's like every action movie's top three stars, right there," he chuckled. "With those three I could probably wage war on a planet."

There were wry chuckles.

"We're going to have to mount a rescue mission," Smokey 'No said, moving around the tank. "Combine their survival with the fact it's an Atrekna research station, it's all too good to pass up," he looked up. "Lance Corporal Casey?"

"Yes, sir?" Casey said.

"Do you feel comfortable escorting the rescue team?" Smokey 'No asked.

Casey opened his mouth, then closed it, looking at Vuxten. "I would, sir, but doing so would violate my medical profile."

Smokey 'No cocked his head slightly. "Profile?"

Casey sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded paper square. He handed it to Smokey 'No and waited.

The big Treana'ad read it carefully, nodding to himself. Ge'ermo'o moved up and looked at the paper.

Psychological damage. Complex Operator Identification Syndrome. Addiction. Survivor's Guilt. Pair Bonding Grief Disorder. Trauma Induced Bipolar. Complex Trauma Induced Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

Ge'ermo'o nodded slowly.

Yes, the human was too damaged to allow to accompany the rescue mission. It would put him, and by proxy, the rest of the team in danger.

Smokey 'No folded the paper up and handed it to him. "I'll make sure someone keeps you informed, Lance Corporal."

"Thank you, sir," Casey said.

Ge'ermo'o noted how the human's back was stiff and a muscle was twitching along his jaw.

"I'll need you to turn over you communications device," Smokey 'No said.

Casey looked at, swallowing for a moment, then handed it over.

Smokey 'No turned to Vuxten. "Your Marine needs medical care, Captain."

Vuxten got up slowly, favoring his leg. "Yes, sir."

Smokey 'No stared at Casey. "There is something you need to think about, with your background. Something you should know now rather than later."

"What's that, sir?" Casey asked.

"In two of her incarnation, totalling over a century, Lady Khoonkeenadee was an accomplished necromancer slash technomancer. Do you know what that means?" Smokey 'No asked.

Casey shook his head as Vuxten moved up next to him. "No, sir."

"That means she could literally bring the dead back to life. Not through SUDS, well, not exactly. Not a new body, not a cloned body, but literally repair the dead body and hot-load the SUDS," Smokey 'No opened the pack of cigarettes, took one out, handed it to Casey, then got one for himself. "That means that Specialist Peel was not SUDS rebirthed."

Smokey 'No lit his cigarette.

"She was brought back to life by a powerful necromancer," Smokey 'No exhaled smoke down the right side of his abdomen. "You should see a chaplain."

Casey looked pained and Vuxten reached out and touched the big human's arm. He could feel that Casey's muscles were clenched, the Terran's skin as hard as iron.

"I'll escort him, sir," Vuxten said.

"Very good, "Smokey 'No said. "Dismissed."

Vuxten led Casey to the elevator, keeping contact.

Ge'ermo'o watched the turbolift doors shut.

Several officers suddenly gave a sharp exhale, as if they were holding their breath.

"That was tense," General Vrawgarkwa said.

"I suddenly found myself disliking that regulations state that fleet officers are not to carry sidearms aboard ship," Admiral Shtuklar said as he reached up and smoothed the spines on the top of his head that had raised slightly due to stress.

"For a moment, we hovered on him killing us all," General Vhestlak said. He reached out to Smokey 'No. "Spare a brother officer a smoke?"

Smokey 'No nodded.

"I believe he has too much self control to lash out blindly," Ge'ermo'o stated confidently. "However, it may be a good thing that General Trucker is groundside, as the General would have been an excellent target for the human Casey's rage."

Smokey 'No chuckled. "You have a point. Good observation."

"I am an observant and attentive commander," Ge'ermo'o nodded.

"Strangely so," Smokey 'No muttered, turning away.

Ge'ermo'o felt a flush of pride.

He couldn't wait until later to tell his men about the Treana'ad officer's praise.