I sat at the edge of my bed, bent over with my elbows resting on my knees as my thoughts went back to the nightmares. The screams of the men and women under my command echoed through my mind as I grimaced and glared at the floor.

The same thing every night, rotting corpses pulling themselves out of the ground. Screaming that I had failed them, begging me to save them, or accusing me of living like a princess while they rotted, discarded on the floor of a dungeon.  

Thunder crackled outside as I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of whiskey I had left there. "Diane's miracle remedy, dreamless sleep. Take two doses and buy more in the morning."

It wasn't any sort of miracle short of the fact that someone had managed to get a license to sell such terrible rotgut. Still, A couple of gulps of the burning liquor, and I was already starting to feel better. It might taste like shit, but it was some of the strongest stuff sold around town. It had to be if an orc like me would use it for drinking her problems away.

Rain was just starting to fall as I set the bottle back on the nightstand and contemplated trying to go back to bed. It was still dark out; a quick look out my window at the city showed me the first raindrops pelting against the window. 

A rumble from my stomach made my decision for me as I staggered down out of the loft where I kept my bed and to the ground floor of my home. 

 I lived in a refurbished garage, most of my living space was dedicated to the business I was running out of the place. The downstairs was divided into two sections, the left side is where I worked on mechanika, and the right was where my kitchen and bathroom were.

 The kitchen was open to the rest of the shop, which is what I lovingly called my cluttered workspace. And the bathroom was little more than a place to keep a toilet and shower, practically on top of each other. 

It was cramped as far as living conditions were concerned. But it was mine. As I crossed the shop floor toward the kitchen, I stopped to look at the two things taking up most of my workspace, one of them was a simple loader mech with a bad actuator. I'd have that up and running by the end of the day tomorrow as long as the parts were delivered on time.

The other project was more personal, a military-grade suit of power armor. My old armor, I'd walked off the base with it the day I retired. A farewell gift from the powers that be, or at least that's how they spun the tale to save face. 

I'd been augmenting the suit heavily since retirement and was in the process of installing a new jump pack. Well, more accurately, I had already installed the jump pack. I just couldn't keep it from overheating, and I was lucky to get ten jumps in a row out of it. 

Still, I considered the suit almost a work of art at this point and admired it for a moment before I continued to the kitchen, igniting the stove with a cantrip and a snap of my fingers. Before I pulled out some eggs and a steak, tossing the steak into a pan and cracking the eggs on top of the meat. I wasn't much of a cook and didn't mind burning my eggs as I stirred the steak in the pan with a finger.

The heat of the pan didn't bother me. Low-temperature fires hadn't since I was a child working the bellows of my father's forge. I might have cried a bit while I cooked my steak and eggs, but there was nobody to watch, and it always felt better than keeping the emotions bottled up.

Luckily cooking is a great way to distract yourself, especially if you're bad at it.  I probably flipped the meat a few dozen times more than was strictly necessary before I deemed it edible, scraping the eggs and steak onto a plate.

Grabbing one of the bourbon bottles littering my kitchen, I placed it down on the table that I also used as a place to keep a few other odds and ends: hammers, screwdrivers, and the like, a couple of odd bits of mana wiring.

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The rain was falling pretty heavily now, and I was just sitting down to enjoy listening to it as I dug into my steak breakfast when a pounding came from the garage door. A no-nonsense style knock, three quick wraps, followed by three more.

I carved into my steak with my knife and ignored it. I wasn't getting up till I had my first bite, at least. The knocking got louder, possibly more frantic, as whoever was outside suffered through the downpour. It was hard to tell. I didn't care much. You come to my house at three a.m. you can expect to wait. It doesn't matter if I'm awake or not.

Eventually, I finished my first bite and stood, grabbing the bourbon and taking a swig as I walked over to the garage door. I unlocked the door and grabbed the chain used to raise and lower the door, the kind on one of those fancy wenches. I gave it a bit too firm of a tug, and the door sprung upward, startling the city watch and their captain who had been in the process of knocking.

I probably should have turned on the lights at some point. I have dark-vision, so I didn't need them to see. But as I glowered at the guard captain, I realized that they couldn't see me, the building's interior even darker than it was outside. 

The two junior guardsmen both stepped back, and their reaction was somewhat comical to watch, but I knew this captain. The name of Mendez he served with me back in the day. One of the few good soldiers to come back alive.  A short Hispanic man who could face ten to one odds on the battlefield and keep his cool. 

He currently had his hands stuffed into the pockets of a standard-issue watch raincoat. And though I knew for a fact, he didn't have night vision, his eyes found mine in the darkness, and Mendez gave me a nod.

"Diane, may we come in?" A gale buffeted the group, and the rain pushed slightly into my workshop before the wind subsided. Mendez had a voice like gravel rolling down a cliff face, and it was good to hear it again.

"You can, dumb and dumber though, can wait outside under the awning," I said as I gave the ground a light stomp,  my bare heel smacking the concrete as I cast a transmutation spell to animate my shop, lines of mana shooting out through the ground, moving at sharp ninety-degree angles, as it rushed off to turn light switches and flip on breakers.

Mendez grunted in response and walked past me, hunched over from the chill and the rain. He straightened once he was in the shop proper."You heard her get lost."He said, jerking his chin at the guardsmen before I let go of the chain and the garage door falls with a bang and a rattle. I paid it no mind and stomped past Mendez to sit back down at the table so I could get back to eating my meal. I doubt anything he had to tell me was going to sit easier on an empty stomach.

"Cap..no, Diane, I don't suppose I could get you to put on some clothes?" I rolled my eyes and took another bite of my food before pointing my fork at him." You did not come to my house at three a.m. in the damn rain to tell me to put on clothes in my own fucking home Mendez. Out with it." 

He grunts and turns to the side to face my power armor, and clasps his hands behind his back, the perfect picture of a sergeant delivering a report. "I don't know what you've heard about the recent kidnappings happening in Gearbox. But someone has been breaking [The Rules]". He pauses to let that sink in, and for the first time tonight, I find myself regretting just how much liquor I've had to drink.

"Gearbox doesn't have rules Mendez, anything is allowed for the right price. That's why so many people live here." I argue, but I can see him tense at my words, my playing dumb. Dammit. I didn't want to get involved, but my conscience was already urging me forward.

"Gearbox has one rule. Don't harm kids." He didn't whisper, the rain outside was too loud for that, but his voice was hushed. "It's been broken."

 I kept eating, my earlier intuition about needing food for later proving true. I knew from the moment I saw Mendez that it had been an issue he needed my help with. I had just been trying to delay the inevitable.

"Rescue or punishment?" I ask and finish my plate, tossing it into the sink and making my way over to the power armor Mendez is currently facing and beginning a full diagnostic. I needed to put it to use, and you never went into combat without double and triple-checking your gear.

"Rescue, thank the gods. We have A full team ready to strike and evac, but we can't guarantee the children's safety."

"Not without me, you mean." I saw Mendez nod out of the corner of my vision and continued working on the power armor. So far, everything was looking good. " I'll be ready to deploy in fifteen minutes Mendez, go make yourself a cup of coffee." I grouse at the man, giving him an excuse to avoid my nudity further. However, I didn't miss the almost horrified look he gave my living space. Being a sudo functional alcoholic for the better part of a year hadn't exactly done wonders for my cleaning habits.

"Your sure you are up for this?"He asks, and I can hear him rethinking his options as I grunt and look over my shoulder.

"Fuck off, Mendez. I have P.T.S.D and a drinking problem. It Doesn't mean I won't save those kids.