There was a hum of excitement and anxiety with the prelude to the raid. As the Fenris rocketed towards the Kreugan Reach through slip space, Cameron felt a strange sense of foreboding. Perhaps it could have been the severity of the job itself, or their employer, but Cameron felt it had something to do with the fact that Sybil had invited herself aboard Logan’s ship for the duration of the journey. There was something about her presence that made him anxious, and it seemed like she knew it too, giving voice to Cameron’s unasked question as they walked the halls of the Fenris in silence.

“Miranda is doing well,” She said suddenly, catching him off guard, “Liam and Dean are as well. They were getting ready to go through some sort of foreign service training when I left.”

“What about Ian?” Cameron asked, not bothering to look over just yet. There was a feeling apprehension that kept his feelings guarded for the moment now that the initial excitement of reunion was over. It was almost as he gave in to engage more in this conversation about his past, that it would revert him back towards the person he was when he’d initially left Ketris, instead the person he’d become under Logan’s hand.

“He’s well. Taking to the Seneschal postion like a fish to water. Offering sound advisement to the queen and keeping his precense known throughout the planet. The only thing he seems to be lacking in is piloting skills. Wonder if anyone could have helped him with that…”

Cameron felt a nudge in his side at this, and it was enough to cause him to look over at her, seeing a cheeky grin and wiggling eyebrows. He simply looked at her, stone faced for a few seconds, just to show he didn’t find her joke funny, before snapping back to face forward, and continuing to walk as he responded.

“Beats me,” He said with a huff, “Better get someone to show him quick before he fucks up and becomes a grease stain,”

“Oh… Wow,” She said, blinking and doing a double take, trying to discern if she’d actually heard what she thought she heard, “I mean, I know he’s kind of a stiff shirt, but he’s still your brother, Cameron.”

That was when something in his brain clicked, and he finally understood why he was feeling the way he was. He stopped in his tracks, rigid and giving off an air of discomfort and disapproval.

“No…” He said softly, “I’m not. You saw to that.”

“What are you…” She said, confusion in her tone, as she tried to understand. She blinked once, then twice, before understanding made its way across her face. Her eyes turned downcast, and she looked away chewing at her inner cheek.

“You know I had no say in that,” She said quietly, “Besides, it was to save your life.”

“But at what cost Sybil?” Cameron said, his voice increasing slightly in volume as a well of sadness and loss washed over him, “Over the past six months, I’ve had to dodge giant homing axes thrown by a gamma class psychopath, fight a genetically modified gorilla, killed at least five people, and just barely survived a surgery that kills four out of ten people, done with no anesthetic and required to be conscious. All of this has been done while assuming an identity and a citizenship I hold no formal claim or ties to. So please, honestly tell me, is this better than a potential death penalty, cause it’s starting to look like that’s not really a certainty anymore.”

He looked at her for a long time, watching as she averted his glare as she mumbled something under her breath.

“What was that?” He asked, a little too aggressively than he would have liked, but not bothering to correct himself.

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“I said, stop being such a fucking child,” She said, finally looking up, her tone thin and eyes razor sharp. His eyes widened slightly as he attempted to stammer out a response, but she didn’t give him a chance, pointing a finger in his direction as she took a step towards him.

“You went from being some no-named prince on a backwater planet, to being an A.R.M.S. pilot in Free-Space. Do you know just how rare you are? I can swing a dead cat in any sector that EarthGov controls and hit thousands of sniveling and scheming nobles. And for every thousand of said nobles there’s one of you.”

“One of me?” He asked, putting emphasis on the last word, speaking slowly as if he were giving her a chance to recant something she’d said.

“Yes,” She reiterated pointedly, “How many people can say they’re a threaded pilot?”

“I’m more than just a fucking pilot!” He said, slamming his fist into the wall so hard that the metal dented and cracked. She jumped with a gasp, her eyes growing large with concern and a hint of fear. Cameron felt his heart hammering in his chest, his blood pulsing through his temples and his brain became foggy. Deep down, he knew that his anger was misplaced. She wasn’t supposed to be the target of his fury, nor had Logan truly been the target all those months ago. But there was a disconnect between his unbridled fury, and the critical thinking needed to make a connection for what he was truly feeling. But in the end, he gave up on searching for the right words, using this moment to just let his heart speak the words he couldn’t find.

“I was more than just a prince too. Or a seneschal, or a mercenary, or whatever else any of you fuckers want to lump me in as. For as long as I can remember, it has always… ALWAYS been about what I am and not who I am and frankly I’m fucking tired of it.”

“C-Cameron, I didn’t mean-”

“Stop saying that fucking name,” Cameron growled through clenched teeth, his eyes bulging and bloodshot, “You don’t have the right to give back the identity you stripped away as casually as you'd blink.”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Yeah you did,” He said, eyeing her with judgement filled eyes. He scoffed, shaking his head with a grin that lacked any warmth, “But you know what? It’s fine. I get it. Logan needed an extra body to make sure the money kept rolling in and you needed an excuse to flex your power. I’m prideful enough to say I was a halfway decent Squire pilot. Decent enough for him to take a chance on strapping my ass into an A.R.M.S. unit and hoping for the best. And look at what happened. Turns out I’m fucking good at this shit. So I guess I should thank you, Sybil. Thank you for stripping me of my identity and throwing me to the wolves. Thank you for not doing any type of investigation into what happened and going along with the selfish ideas of a mercenary. Thank you for killing Cameron Pellyn.”

With that he turned away, storming off down the hall, hands in his pockets, wishing he could slam the automatic pressurized doors that opened for him as he made his way to the hanger, leaving Sybil standing alone in a heavy, pained silence.

She stayed silent as she watched him leave, barely making a sound as a tear streaked it’s way down her cheek, mouthing her response in a shaky whisper.

“…I’m sorry.”