Whatever horror stalks thy dream, and shattered vision clouds thy day, reach not into the well of darkness for solace. Rage against the dying light, seek the hand of hope. Do not go quietly into that final night.

The Creed of the Silent Warrior ~ Pre-Glassing, Author Unknown

"It was a small thing, that the Mad Lemurs of Terra passed to each of us who met them. A small spark, a fluttering fragile thing. It was a tiny thing that quickly grew into a conflagration with the smallest tinder. That grew into a raging inferno that consumed whole species and filled the mind and ignited the dormant vestigial soul of my people.

"A scream of 'We will not yield!' shrieked in the face of a malevolent universe.

"The universe, it seemed, just smiled as it set about forging its weapon in the forges of wrath, on the anvils of hate, with the hammers of rage." - Former Grand Most High Sma'akamo'o, from I Have Ridden the Hasslehoff

Vuxten sat nervously on the couch. His hand itched strangely and he kept reaching down to touch a pistol that wasn't at his belt, reaching across his lap to touch the hilt of a chainsword that was locked in the armory, opening his mouth to try to crack a joke to 471 before remembering that the little greenie was surfing on the coast.

He'd gotten a picture of a dozen russet mantids in a pyramid, the bottom five of them on water-skis, the rest of the shoulders of the ones below. Another picture of the mantids roasting a turkey over a fire pit in the sand.

Part of Vuxten wished he'd gone along with the mantids.

Or rented a big pink car.

Or rented a Chrysler ground car the size of a whale.

Or gone with Casey and Peel to go rock climbing.

Or... anything else.

Vuxten rubbed his hands on his pants, seeing the sweat glimmer for a moment. His pawpads made a rasping sound and one of his nails scraped slightly, but it was still better than the feel of thick sweat between the pads.

Synthal'la leaned over and put her head on his shoulder. "is all right"

"I know," Vuxten said, rubbing the side of his head against hers. "Just nervous."

The door took that moment to open and several Telkan came into the richly appointed living room, stopping by the door and staring. Vuxten saw Brentili'ik move between them all, taking the hand of one of the female Telkan.

The fact that they looked so much alike yet so different took his breath away.

She'islos had introduced Vuxten to Brentili'ik while they were still in the mandatory schooling, before they had gone much further than identifying shapes and colors. Before he'd even been tested and the test had ended up with Vuxten being assigned as a janitorial services crew member and Brentili'ik had been assigned as a domestic services worker. She'islos had been assigned to be public transit janitorial services.

Two years later, She'islos had vanished after a birthday party in the park.

A day after that Vuxten had stood and watched, in his paper uniform, as they carried She'islos's body from the cell then had gone in to clean the interrogation cell of the blood and tissue.

Now she was standing there, holding Brentili'ik's hand. Her fur pattern was close to Brentili'ik's, making them 'twins' of the pod of five their parents had been gifted with. However, the resemblance ended there, as Vuxten could see mute evidence of hard years on his sister-in-law's face. The tip of her triangular nose, normally pinkish white, had been replaced by a warsteel prosthetic that swept up the left side of her muzzle, covered the left side of her face to almost her ear, and, like Vuxten, she had a prosthetic warsteel casing cybereye. He could see on her throat she had exposed black warsteel cybertendons and a mechanical voice implant.

He was suddenly very aware of his own cybereye and cyberear.

Two others stepped forward, all undeniably his sister-in-law.

Then a mature Telkan matron he barely recognized it had been so long.

His mother-in-law.

"You're alive. You're really alive," Vuxten heard a male's voice say.

The Telkan who moved forward was an adult, not the barely out of podling child he had been when an Overseer had drunkenly driven through the park running over children. His patterning looked a lot like Vuxten's patterning. His face was scarred and one eye was cybernetic, but that little notch in his left ear, the swirls around his eyes, there was only one Telkan that Vuxten had ever met that had those markings together.

"Brother," Vuxten choked, standing up just in time for his brother Nizruk to throw his arms around Vuxten and hug tightly. "Oh, Digital Omnimessiah, you're alive."

They both held onto one another for a long moment, Synthal'la getting up and hugging them, using her tail to shield them from his in-laws and wife watching as Nizruk sobbed.

After a long moment the embrace broke and Vuxten sat down, his brother sitting next to him.

One of the versions of She'islos moved up and touched his shoulder. "You look so different now," she said softly. "I can still feel the rage, the fury, but it's tempered now, not the rage that cracks planets."

Vuxten swallowed as a suddenly image of himself laughing as he deployed weapons like Casey clad in his Ringbreaker armor had used to pound massive craters into a planet.

"Alive," his mother-in-law said. "You survived the Devourer."

Vuxten nodded, swallowing thickly as his mother-in-law touched his face. "The last time I saw you was on a Tri-Vid documentary when you left with Enraged Phillip to try to stop the Devourer from consuming the heart of the planet."

Vuxten swallowed, remembering, for a split second, that desperate fight beneath the mountain.

Brentili'ik watched as her family all touched her husband, talking to him.

She realized that it had to be hard on him to hear that he'd either been killed during that war or had become a figure of myth and legend.

The Enraged Telkan, Vuxten the Undying, brother to Enraged Phillip and Vat Grown Luke.

After about a half hour of her family asking the same things, over and over, which basically summed up with 'how did you survive?' to Vuxten, Brentili'ik broke in and suggested that everyone go to dinner.

Everyone, including her mother, agreed that now might be a good time to go to a restaurant and have something to eat.

While everyone was moving around Vuxten stopped and put his hand on his datalink.

Stolen story; please report.

"Captain Vuxten, go ahead," he said.

Brentili'ik tensed.

"All right, I'll be right in. No, you don't need to send a car, I've got a ride," Vuxten said. "Vuxten, out."

Brentili'ik moved over next to her husband, touching his arm. "Is everything all right?"

Vuxten nodded. "Kind of. One of my men got hit by a ground car."

"Oh," Brentili'ik said. "Do you want us to wait?"

Vuxten shook his head. "No, no, it's OK. This might take a while."

"Is he all right?" Brentili'ik's mother asked.

Vuxten nodded. "Should be. The emergency services are still figuring out what happened."

Everyone nodded and murmured while Brentili'ik pinged her security chief to get a car to take Vuxten to the base.

Vuxten watched as everyone bustled out, holding podlings, some three and four years old, and packed into a limo. He walked out onto the porch of the mansion and watched the limo pull away.

//lights off// Vuxten sent with his implant.

The porch lights turned off and Vuxten stood there, staring at where everyone had gone.

A Telkan clearing his throat let him one of the secmen was behind him. "Do you really need the car, sir?" the secman asked.

Vuxten nodded. "Yeah. I'm not worried through. The car probably has more damage than the person it hit."

"I'll have it brought around," the secman said.

Vuxten just nodded and stood there, staring out at the darkness.

you don't belong here any more, he heard in his own mind. you do not fit in here.

Vuxten closed his eyes and swallowed, bringing to mind memories of his wife and broodcarriers.

when you touch them you make them unclean, the voice whispered. the blood on your hands smears their fur.

Vuxten slowly inhaled and exhaled. He clenched his hands as tight as he could and then let himself slowly relax, finger by finger, before wiggling them and repeating the action.

The car settled, the undercarriage lights flashing, the hover-systems whining slightly.

I should change into my uniform, he thought to himself. He touched his implant and informed the secmen that he needed to change, then went inside.

It took him almost fifteen minutes to dress. Twice he just stared at his boots for a few minutes before pulling them on and yanking up the laces. Despite the advances in technology, Terran Confederate Military Forces boots relied on grommets and laces. Vuxten had to admit, it worked well and there was probably a reason for it.

Still, tying the boots, looping the ends of the lace around the top of the boot, tying it off again, and tucking the looped around ends and the knot into the top of the boot made him feel grounded. Blousing the boot by putting a piece of elastic up into the pantleg and then folding the cuff so it was held in place by the laces felt natural.

When he walked out he moved around the hovercar, staring at it. Finally he got inside when the secman opened the door for the third time. When he settled into the seat the car sat there for a few minutes.

"Sir, what is the destination?" the secman/driver asked.

"Oh," Vuxten realized he had not said anything. He told them which hospital to go to and the vehicle lifted off.

It was a quick forty-minute ride till the armored hovercar settled down in the parkinglot. Vuxten got out, oriented himself once he downloaded a map, and made his way to the Emergency Room.

There was more people than he thought there would be. Everything from a podling smiling with their front teeth missing and a swollen nose who told everyone who wanted to listen about how he jumped off the roof to a Telkan laborer holding three of his fingers in a cup full of ice.

Vuxten moved up to the front desk and the eVI looked at him. "Can I help you, Captain?" the eVI asked.

"I'm Lance Corporal Casey's commanding officer. Where is he?" Vuxten said.

The eVI blinked as it checked rules and regulations. Despite the fact that the hospital only let close family and friends into the ER, a commanding officer in the military was to be treated like law enforcement and allowed to see the patient as soon as possible.

"Bay Six," the eVI said.

Vuxten nodded, seeing a blue line appear in his vision as the door clacked. He pushed his way through and moved through the ER, past the various bays where Telkan and Rigellians and more were being cared for.

Bay Six had Casey and Peel in it. Casey was stripped down and in a hospital gown with an IV in his arm, Peel was sitting in a chair talking as Vuxten walked up. He looked at the smartglass and checked his implant.

Everything looked good, except for the part where they were having problems getting images of Casey. Curious, Vuxten touched the icons and brought up the image.

What came up made him nod slowly.

It should have shown Casey's outline, with his skeletal and pulmonary systems shown.

Instead of was an image of heavy armor, with a skull-like faceplate with heavy tooth filled jaws and burning red eyes. Heavy weapons were obvious on the armor and it crackled with energy even on the smart glass. It was a brutal looking suit of armor where the hands ended in clawed fingers done in pink neon.

Lozen.

Sighing, he tapped the icon to put the window away and then tapped with one nail on the glass.

Peel came up and opened the door.

"Hello, Captain," she said.

"Oh, tell me they didn't call you just because I got hit by a car," Casey said, looking away. "I don't see why they're freaking out."

Vuxten nodded. "They're having some trouble with the scans," Vuxten said, moving over and sitting down. "Are you all right? All Staff Duty got was that you were hit by a car."

Casey flushed slightly and Peel laughed.

"An automated taxi swerved onto the sidewalk and slammed into him," she laughed. "Then it honked twice and vanished into the darkness beeping its horn. Knocked him ass over tea kettle."

Vuxten frowned. That didn't sound normal.

"I'm fine. Damn thing was made of plasteel and wasn't going any faster than about twenty miles an hour. I've been hurt worse in fist fights," Casey mumbled. "I just hit my head."

"Knocked him goofy," Peel laughed. She looked at Vuxten. "His pupils are fine. They just wanted to get a better scan because the EMT's equipment kept throwing errors."

"Now the hospital equipment is throwing errors," Vuxten guessed.

"Yeah," Casey shrugged. "They should have just transferred me to the base hospital if it was that big of a deal. I'm fine."

"We'll wait for the doctor," Vuxten said.

Both of the Terrans nodded.

Vuxten sat with them, listening to Peel lightly tease Casey over it. At one point Brentili'ik called him, he let her know that it looked like his troop was going to be fine, just banged up more than anything.

The doctor came in and seemed almost sullen over the fact that Casey didn't have anything more than a light bruise on his hip from where the vehicle had hit him and a tender spot on the back of his head. The doctor recommended observation, then signed the slip for Casey to be discharged.

The taxi ride back, Vuxten was silent and stared out the window while Casey and Peel kept poking each other and teasing each other. They were moving through the gate when Casey tapped Vuxten's leg.

"Sir, are you all right?" Casey asked.

"Just, just had family come over," Vuxten said. "Lots of in-laws and my brother."

"Oh," Casey said.

Peel reached out and touched Vuxten's knee. "You can talk about it if you want."

Vuxten shrugged. "What's to talk about. They're from a place where I'm dead or part of the Dark Crusade of Light. They've all been dead and I have three copies of my sister-in-law, all different, and a brother back from the dead."

Peel nodded. "So, you don't really want to talk about how they look at you makes you uncomfortable."

"Not really. I get it, I died under the mountain, or vanished into CorpSec, or got turned into some kind of enraged legend, but they all act like I'm more than I am," Vuxten said. He sighed. "I'm just a simple person. I'm not much different than I was back when I was mopping floors."

"So you don't see what the big deal is, aside from the fact that you're back from the dead to them just like they are to you and now you don't know how to go forward. Not something you really want to talk about," Peel said.

Vuxten nodded. "It's like I can see my death in their eyes and the longing, the surprise, the joy at seeing me alive and not enraged that fills them makes me feel like I'm not worthy of it," Vuxten said. "I'm just a janitor."

"True. Not that much is different now. Even though you've been fighting for five years now, your podlings are old enough that they're separating by sex, you're still the same person you were when you were pushing a mop," Peel said.

Vuxten nodded.

"Army and then Marine training then officer's training and five years of combat doesn't really change a person that much, not as much as just being a janitor for five years would," Peel added.

Vuxten nodded. "I'm just... me. I'm not different."

Peel shook her head. "Nope. You're just Vuxten. Same guy who pushed a mop, same guy who got First Telkan Marine Division through a temporal recursion attack as well as the following battles without a single killed in action. Same person, and you'd wish they'd see that."

Vuxten nodded as the vehicle set down. "Yeah, I wish they would."

Casey opened the door and let Peel out, then paused.

"I'm the same person you knew below the mountain, Vux," he said gently. "I'm the same person I was before I wrapped myself in Lozen's embrace."

Before Vuxten could reply, to tell him that almost four decades of fighting, cut off and alone, made that statement false, Casey got out of the car.

"See you tomorrow for practice," was all he said before he closed the door.

The taxi took him while he sat in the darkness of the seat.

When he got home, Brentili'ik was waiting.

"Too much for you?" she asked. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward to rub her whiskers against his. "I'm not saying you lied or didn't have to go check on him, I'm just asking if it was too much."

Vuxten nodded. "It was."

"I'm sorry," Brentili'ik said. She took his hand. "The broodcarriers and the podlings are in the nest we made of the couch cushions," she tugged gently. "Let's go to bed."

Vuxten nodded, following her.