Within the hour, two lieutenant colonels stood in the Achilles armorsuit factory, ready to negotiate the invaders’ surrender. Nic longed for the day that they could do this on a galactic scale; for now, it was only the local Hexes who were offering themselves up as prisoners, and only because they knew they’d lost the battle. The Contact War still raged on in the stars over their heads.
For Team Scarlet, it would only last for about five more months, per their contract.
“How many are you?” asked Lieutenant Colonel North.
The Mender in charge answered, “Seven. Sixes. And. Four.”
“RTIFIS, translate.”
“That’s what I thought. There are only thirty-two of you here. What’s the meaning of this?” As the officer asked his question, it was answered. Fourteen gray-skinned Hexadian Commanders entered the room from a back door, a much more intimidating presence than their green counterparts. “Weapons up! Do not engage! Stand your ground!”
Nic and his squadmates drew their weapons, aiming them at the Commanders. So did every other GDF soldier in the room. Several of the aliens bared their fangs, chuffing in what he could only interpret as anger, while the others didn’t react at all. They stood in formation behind the lead Mender and placed their hands behind their heads. Then they turned around, facing away from the reconquering humans.
The Mender spoke up with its organic communicator. “We. Peace. We. Life. No. Kill. Talk. Peace.”
“Very well,” said North sternly. “I will now list the terms of your surrender. If, at any point, any one of you exercises violence against the Galactic Defense Force or any human life, your surrender will be nullified. Do I make myself clear?”
The Mender pinched a node on its device. “Clear.”
“Good. Now, then, who’s the one in charge here?” North waited as the Mender looked at one of the Commanders, which still had its back turned; the alien about-faced and approached the two of them, the lobes on the side of its head contracting as its bulbous eyes narrowed slightly. “Well, then. Let’s get started.”
Nic breathed a sigh of relief. The day’s bloodshed was finally done.
***
The next few hours were spent finalizing the terms of the Hexadians’ surrender and placing them all in custody. They were slapped with astrosteel cuffs around both wrists—or all four wrists, in the Menders‘ case—and herded to one corner of the factory floor. Meanwhile, the hostages were gathered into orderly queues with spare spacesuits distributed among them courtesy of the GDF. They were one notch below vac-armor in terms of their protective capabilities, as they only guarded against the vacuum and the elements.
Nic stood with Team Scarlet, weapons still in hand but pointed down. “Not bad for a Priority Three, I guess,” he said, “all things considered.”
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“I lost a finger, Nicolas,” Maqsud reminded him irritably. “Did you... Did you forget I lost a goddamn finger?” He held up the affected hand with one finger two knuckles shorter than the other.
“I mean, it’s Priority Three, man,” Nic replied, holding back a chuckle that he knew was egregiously inappropriate. “It’s not like we’re working crowd control here. But I’m sorry you have to go through that. I really am.”
“How’s the stempaste treating you?” Perri asked.
“Burns like the bowels of perdition,” Max answered a little more calmly. “It will likely continue to burn like said infernal intestines for upwards of two months until my finger is fully regrown.”
“Lucky the lieutenant colonel brought some paste,” said Jarek. “Now you got a jump start on it.”
“Lucky me.” Max flexed the four intact fingers around the damaged one. “I suppose I should count myself fortunate to have been born in a time when such technology exists to regrow amputated fingers. Then again...” He sighed. “If I were born two hundred years prior, perhaps I’d need never regrow a thing.”
“Pros and cons to living in any time,” said Nic.
Lieutenant Welch came over to check on them. “Good work, Team Scarlet. You and Team Ivory helped us pull it together in the end. Less engagement, less of a chance for things to go sideways. Ammo saved.”
“What will happen to the Hexadians now, sir?” Jarek asked.
“They’re comin’ with us. They’ll be taken aboard the GDF Liberty as prisoners to exchange for captured human POWs.”
“For how long? And when?”
Welch looked around the room. “We’ve already got an exchange in the works as we speak, but, uh, you didn’t hear that from me.” He looked at Max. “Hakim! How’s that finger coming along?”
“Oh, it certainly is, Lieutenant.”
“Good. I don’t want you up all night drinking about it.” A silent beat. Then Welch elbowed him in the arm. “That was a joke, Hakim. You need to loosen up. But don’t let me catch you drinking on assignment again, got it? Keep on the straight and narrow or you’ll have to answer to me again.”
Max snapped a salute. “Loose as a goose, straight as an arrow, sir!”
“Now that’s an attitude that’ll take you places,” Welch told him without a drop of irony, patting him on the shoulder. “Keep that up, soldier.”
Team Scarlet waited for Welch to walk out of earshot before they burst into laughter.
When they finally quieted down, Nic overheard some chatter coming from one of the White Battalion squads—none other than Team Ivory. He stepped closer to hear their external speakers better.
“...to stand down this instant,” said Eli. “Okay? We will talk about this on the ship. Right now, I need—”
“I will not share a ship with those things!” Korbin spat, pointing at the Menders and Commanders across the factory floor. “This is bullshit, Eli! After everything they’ve done, you’re not even gonna say anything?”
“They are surrendering, Korbin.” Eli’s voice was low and deadly serious, speaking through half-clenched teeth. “It’s done. Settle down. Now. We will talk later, okay? I promise—”
“Talk about what? How these animals—no, they’re not even animals, these things put my wife in a bed for the rest of her life? How my son will never take a walk with his mother without a, without a goddamn machine?” Nic noticed everyone in the vicinity had stopped what they were doing to watch Korbin’s outburst. “They started this war! They shot first! They’ve been invading us for over a year now, and now we’re going to give them a free room? With us?! And they get to live because they called a timeout? Screw that! And screw you—you must not give a shit about Cassandra, or what she did for this squad! And now she has to... She has to...” His voice cracked, and it seemed like it was over as suddenly as it began. The silence that followed was thick.
Eli broke the silence carefully, gently. “Korbin...”
When Korbin spoke again, his voice was softer this time. “No. You know what? Screw that.” He cocked his SMG. “No prisoners.”
Korbin raised his gun and opened fire on the unarmed aliens. Someone screamed.