“Tell me . . . Lorissa,” Inan made a slight pause before using her first name. “Wasn’t I supposed to be one of the two replacements on the team? Who is the other one?”

Lorissa switched her attention from the bar back to her teammates.

“Oh yeah!” said LeMarr as if he had an idea. “While yous two definitely inspire me immensely with your knowledge of caveman latte making technology, I still cannot really say that any of us here have grown any, ahem, wings . . .” He toasted, so very obviously proud of his stupid pun that Lorissa couldn’t help but betray a tiny smile that ruined her deadpan face. They both burst out laughing.

Inan drank the rest of his synthetic cranberry juice politely showing interest in the many knife marks that were scattered along the edge of the plastic table trim.

LeMarr waited a second for him to catch up, but then continued with a sigh of resignation: “The Moth-Owl guy, the hero!” he exclaimed as it should have been obvious. “I very much expected him to be the second pick. Makes all the sense in the world to me”.

“Oh, you mean Kessissiin? Yeah, I was wondering the same thing,” said Inan with genuine interest, reinvigorated by catching onto the joke.

“Yes, Kessissiin! That’s the one,” said LeMarr pointing a finger pistol at Inan. Both men looked to Lorissa.

“I mean, really, it’s like refusing an Abmon the quarterback position,” said LeMarr smiling.

Lorissa rolled her eyes at the metaphor.

“He wasn’t rejected. It’s undecided yet,” she said in an official tone.

“Owww . . .” LeMarr droned with meaning, making his upper lip look like a toucan’s beak.

“Oh shut up!” Lorissa waved dismissively. “We do not and should not know squat at this point, and anything you might make up speaks more about yourself than anyone else,” she added sternly looking at LeMarr.

Lorissa wondered herself about the apparent indecision of Pirra in appointing Kessissiin to the last remaining spot on Response One, but she despised gossip. In fact, she was sure that it was actually detrimental for her and her team’s ability to do their jobs. Response branch was a structure first and foremost, and while she would not attempt to smother her teammates when they were having a drink, she would not condone any rumors about their commanding officer either.

Her last reply seemed to have a certain finality about it, and the conversation died down for a while. She used this time to pop some more cheese puffs and check what was going on at the bar. A hunch told her that the group of unsavory spacers she saw earlier, who were now discussing something animatedly pointing fingers in the direction of the bar, meant that their time off would soon be over.

Just as she finished her drink some of those men suddenly shifted to one side, and she saw who they were conversing with.

“Pizdetz. Get up,” Lorissa said curtly, got to her feet and put her empty glass on the table with great deliberation.

“Wha-?” Inan began to ask, but then the sound of a loud conversation made him look behind him. To his surprise he saw the weird mind-reader girl – Nor was her name? – and Jaya Yaepanaya half surrounded at the bar by a bunch of men in Glorian uniforms.

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Apollonia smiled, not understanding the words that Jaya had just said to her. They made sense, of course, but-

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The other woman’s face was turning to a level of serious that made clear there was no joke.

Looking over her own shoulder, Apollonia saw that a group was rapidly approaching the bar, straight towards them. There were the spacers who’d bothered them several times – and behind them some of the Glorian officers. Two of whom towered over all others. Their uniforms were tight on angles that were too sharp to be natural, and she realized that they were heavily augmented. The Glorians were famous for their colossal, augmented soldiers.

Apollonia stepped back and looked around for a security drone or officer, but she realized this wasn’t the Craton, and there wasn’t anyone to keep a handle on things.

Jaya clearly seemed set to stand her ground, glaring at them, despite how they towered over her.

“You the one defending the occupation of New Vitriol?” one of the officers demanded.

“I don’t believe it’s any of your business,” Jaya replied.

The tallest of them pushed through the spacers, looking down at her. Jaya’s head barely reached up to his pecs.

“I’m making it my business,” the man replied. “You know what happens when Glorians get their hands on sapeholes.”

Jaya felt her blood run cold – the Glorian elite were walking human tanks, called Dreadnoughts, more than capable of ripping a normal person in half.

“You’re not even a baby Dreadnought,” Jaya replied. Her words were a taunt, but she said them coldly. Only informing him of his own inadequacies.

The man glared harder, leaning forward, and Apollonia wondered just why no one had thrown the first punch; she knew it’d come at any moment.

“Hey!” the bartender yelled loudly. “Take it outside!”

Jaya and the tall aug didn’t break eye contact.

Then Jaya shoved her away. She was startingly strong, and Apollonia felt herself thrown hard enough to slide nearly a meter more even after she’d hit the floor. The force had knocked the breath out of her, but she felt arms grab her, pulling her upright.

“Are you all right?” someone yelled in her face. Apollonia didn’t know them, but turned to look back at Jaya.

She felt the arms release her, and she finally realized that it was some of the other officers from the Craton. A dark-haired woman had helped her up, and the others were advancing towards the bar to back up Jaya.

“Stay here,” the woman said to her, and Apollonia nodded.

More heated words were being exchanged from the bar, and they were reacting to the Response officers approaching by moving to partially face them.

Apollonia wasn’t sure if one side would back down. She was not sure if Jaya even wanted to, what with the slips of anger she had shown.

“. . . fuck up a place that was doing fine, you fucking sapeholes can’t stand a place that’s standing on its own legs . . .”

She realized he was still talking about New Vitriol, and suddenly she just couldn’t hold back.

“That’s a total fucking lie,” Apollonia found herself shouting. Her head was swimming with white rage at the man’s words. “I saw New Vitriol. It was a dying shithole, and when the Sapient Union came in, you know what they did? They brought fucking doctors. They didn’t have soldiers. They didn’t go in shooting.”

The man’s bloodshot eyes went to her, and she saw visible shock on Jaya and the other Craton officers.

“And how the fuck do you know?” the man challenged her.

“Because I’m from New Vitriol,” she snapped.

The man’s face contorted in rage, and he spat out angry words it took her a moment to understand.

“Fucking shill!”

The bottle the man threw sailed past her, hitting the wall near the entrance.

Apollonia ducked all the same, her skill at dodging thrown objects well-honed. Jaya threw herself at the man who had thrown the bottle, who had immediately turned to to swing for her. Jaya dodged it, moving faster than a normal person and grabbed his metal arm, slamming it onto the bar and driving an elbow into his neck.

All hell broke loose.

A full melee began as people began to punch, kick, throttle, and throw each other or objects. The bartender was shouting for order, but no one was inclined to listen. People who had been sitting peacefully one moment were now attacking each other in a mad brawl, or else rushing to watch and cheer the fight.

She’d seen plenty of bar brawls, and had always made it her plan to get the hell out of the way.

Apollonia knew she couldn’t do a damn thing to help; if anything, she’d just be a liability, a puny fucking normal person surrounded by people with titanium muscles and steel bones. One hit from an aug, and she might just be a splat on the wall.

Stumbling towards the door, she grabbed onto the frame and looked back. A chair flew, and she saw two of the Response officers tackling one of the Glorian augs to the floor, while Jaya was smashing the original drunk’s head against a table.

Shouts came from behind her, and she looked, seeing that men in official uniforms, with security drones, were rushing towards the place.

Getting arrested here, of all places, gave her immediate flashbacks to the pit she’d been locked in on New Vitriol.

She melted away, the security not even paying her a glance as she disappeared into the labyrinth that was Gohhi station.