It had been a week since he had arrived at the citadel city. He had a job back in Britain that he was currently getting out of using his accumulated vacation time. Still though, he didn't feel comfortable not doing anything so he volunteered his time at the local soup kitchen. This killed two birds with one stone. First, he had something to occupy him whenever he wasn't actively searching for Katia and second, he could also gather information from the refugees by listening in on their conversations. Having been a refugee temporarily himself, Theodor could sympathize with their struggles.

As he walked to the soup kitchen, he heard the sound of screaming jump packs above him. A formation of F-15 Eagles flew over his head. Theodor found himself in awe of the leaps and bounds that TSF technology had taken since the last time he was on the front lines and caught himself wondering if this is how the civilians thought of him and his squadron when they flew over populated areas. He should be used to seeing cutting edge TSFs by now, having been here a week, but he still couldn't help but marvel at them.

After a few seconds, the machines disappeared from sight, blocked by buildings. Theo's gaze returned to the ground. He walked a little faster as he was running slightly late and standing still to admire the TSFs had slowed him down some.

Turning the corner, the soup kitchen was in sight. At the door, a larger and rowdier crowd than usual. Theodor had a bad feeling as he slipped into the crowd.

Pushing his way through the multinational throng, Theodor eventually reached the door that let him into the kitchen. He quickly slipped inside and locked the door. It wouldn't be smart to leave that entrance open longer than he had to. He leaned against the locked door and let out a sigh.

"Hey!" the matron, an older woman yelled at him as soon as she saw him "Get to work!"

Theo quickly donned an apron and rushed to his position to help serve food. Everyone was expectedly rather high strung. There was something dangerous in the air. Still, he wouldn't allow this to distract him and he continued to serve food. As he did so, he made note of the people he gave food to. Elderly, young, male, female, Italian, German, Scandinavian, French. All were pushed out of their home as the BETA advanced. Even small children such as the girl he was serving right now. Theo shook his head slightly at the madness of the world. As he moved to serve the next person, he heard a shrill scream that pierced through the crowd's din. He had expected a problem to erupt with the crowd like this. He looked to the matron and she nodded, giving him her tacit approval. Not bothering hanging his apron, Theo ran to the door and exited the kitchen. Pushing his way through the crowd, he reached where the commotion was centered.

In the center is the girl he had served nursing a rapidly developing bruise on her face and a man he had never seen before at the soup kitchen with two plates of food. Double the portions given.

Before he knew what he was doing, Theodor was grabbing the man by his lapels.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled, spittle getting on the other man's face.

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The food had already fallen out of the man's hands. Normally, the other refugees would pounce for the food, taking advantage of any chance to get more food. However, the crowd could feel a fight was about to start. Slowly, they started to form a circle around Theodor, the girl on the floor and the man. The other volunteers in the soup kitchen were kept out by the people on the outside of the circle.

The man, fueled by desperation and egged on by the jeering crowd violently pushed Theodor away.

"Me and my family are starving," he yelled at Theodor "What does some fucking suit wearing fuck from Britain or wherever the hell you're from know about what we go through! You think you can feed us like we're some sort of zoo animals to feel better about yourself! You FUCKERS!"

The obviously irrational man lunged at Theodor. Had he still been in the military and keeping up with his training, Theo would have easily dodged or blocked the clumsy punch. But, it had been three years since he last was in combat and he took the punch to the face. As pain blossomed on his nose and blood dripped down, Theo remembered those blood stained snow fields all those years ago.

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Theo sat on a stool in the now emptied soup kitchen, a paper towel up his nose to stop the bleeding and an ice pack to the back of his head. His dress shirt was ruined now, with all the blood stains. He also had a few bruises that radiated a dull pain. Still, better than what the other guy had looked like.

After the punch to his nose, he lost recollection of exactly what he did, his memory picking back up to him straddling the man's chest and beating the unconscious face into a bloodier pulp than it already was, screaming in rage. Perhaps a part of him was still in those snow fields to the east.

After his fight with the man, the local military police patrol came and quickly got the situation under control and business went back to usual. Theo could swear that the crowd had gotten smaller and the unfamiliar faces had disappeared completely. Perhaps there was something more going on...

He found himself sighing again. He wasn't sure if he could keep this job after this. He doubted that there would be legal consequences for this, after all, that man had attacked a little girl and he only acted to defend her. Speaking of the little girl, she was sitting in front of him cross legged. She had apparently latched onto him when his co workers dragged him off the man and back into the kitchen. The matron let her in out of the goodness of her heart.

The two of them, bloodied grown man and bruised little girl stared at each other without saying a word. Theo, feeling somewhat awkward being stared at decided to try and talk to her.

"Hi," he said trying to smile in a friendly fashion despite his bloody, bruised face producing the opposite effect "My name's Theodor Eberbach. What's yours?"

An awkward silence descended on the two. Theodor lamented that he wasn't good at dealing with children or people in general. On the verge of giving up and going back to staring at the ceiling, the girl responded.

"My name is Natalie," she said,her voice lacking any inflection or emotions "Natalie Duclert."