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The Last Man Standing
Chapter Nineteen: Under Lock and Key/Operation Angry Comet

Chapter Nineteen: Under Lock and Key/Operation Angry Comet

'She confuses me,' confessed Onoelle, walking through the desolate woods with her husband nearby, ready to interfere at a moment's notice should she risk walking into a tree or stumbling over roots. Dusk had already fallen and with the tall mountains blocking most of the remaining light of day, the quiet forest was shrouded in darkness. Only the gentle rays of an early moon gave some illumination, sparsely breaking through the thick canopy. It wasn't easy to navigate around the treacherous undergrowth, but she needed the distraction. It allowed her to think.

'You no longer call her an it,' her husband remarked quietly.

She paused and twirled around, vaguely seeing his shape in the dark, knowing he could see her with perfect clarity. She smiled at him. His mind was still alien to her, but she didn't mind. He was hers, inhumanly loyal and a safe harbour where she could always sail back to when her mind was caught in a storm. He was akin a rock, unchangeable, no matter what happened. Given the turmoil he and his acquaintances caused in her mind, it was a good thing too. She didn't say anything in response to his comment. She was still mulling that one over herself. She wasn't sure if the AI was being honest or simply running her mind ragged. The analogy with a chess computer was an apt one, Nightmare could simulate her mind and how it thought and then run simulation after simulation, planning for her thoughts and responses, and the once-Genesis grew more accurate in her predictions with every visit. In but a handful visit the being had managed to come to read her far too well for her liking.

'I confuse you,' he remarked after a moment of silence.

That got a chuckle out of her. 'You do, you big oaf.' She waited until he got closer, sensing him more than seeing him, before poking him with her elbow. 'And you scared the ever loving crap out of Jane,' she softly accused him. He didn't tense up, which meant he understood she didn't blame him. Jane had made a near-fatal error and had lived to tell the tale. Well, maybe not the most apt way to describe it, given that if Jane tried to rat them out Mentuc would end her life. Maybe not in the literal sense, but being shoved in stasis for a couple of decades wasn't too different from the original verdict.

'You didn't kill her,' she whispered.

'You stopped me,' he replied, his voice equally soft. She stepped closer to him, feeling his warmth and taking joy from his presence. 'It saved her. You saved her. Had you not shouted, I would have killed her,' he confessed.

She nodded. 'You fell back to your instincts.'

'Yes.'

'And when I shouted, you took it as an order,' she trailed off.

'Yes,' came another annoyingly curt reply. The corners of her lips twitched upwards.

'So I can order you around then?' she asked teasingly, an impish smile adorning her face.

He tenderly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. In the dim light of the moon she could make out his eyes, intently focused on her. 'You could always order me around. You are my wife, the reason I live. You are Onoelle.'

She felt a deep blush well up and looked away. His words had been spoken with the soft confidence that filled his every being. There was a layer to the Imperial tongue that had disappeared from history, a way to define certain abstract concepts. Onoelle didn't just mean life as a noun, a thing, it meant so much more than that. Occasionally he'd speak the word with a different inflection, reminding her of that. It was an incredibly romantic gesture and one that never failed to make her draw his arms around her.

'Flirt,' she said, hiding the burning of her cheeks by pressing hers against his, even if she had to tiptoe to do so.

She felt his arms move lower and before she could ask what he was planning, he had already picked her up and she was now face to face with him, her blush properly exposed. She felt caught and it deepened, but she didn't look away, opting to force him to close his eyes instead by pressing her lips on his.

By the time she broke it off and slipped out of his tender hold she was slightly out of breath and feeling a bit light headed, but at least the blush was gone. Darkness had set even further in and she chose to lean on Mentuc rather than try and fumble about on the uneven ground. He didn't seem intent on running back with her, which meant that going back to their home would take a nice, long while. Plenty of time for her to think and bounce ideas and theories off her husband.

'Do you think she spoke the truth? I know you don't lie, but I'm not sure if that trait remains applicable now that she is what she is.' Onoelle wasn't keen on voicing the words Artificial Intelligence outside of the buried cruiser. She wasn't superstitious, but a bit of Mentuc's paranoia had rubbed off on her.

'About what specifically?'

Her eyes fluttered to him, reading the underlying message. 'So she lied about some things?'

'I would not use the word lie,' corrected Mentuc gently.

'What would you say then?' She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. She could see he had to think about it. His usage of language was blunt and to the point, short and simple words to make something clear. The mind games that the rest of the universe added to language, puns, play on words, outright lies, misdirection, double entendes, subtle meanings, all of those were lost on him. It was a large part of why he struggled with the concept of humour so much.

'I have learned to use half truths,' he finally began.

Onoelle nodded.

'With Jane. I do not have Imperial ancestors. Because I have no ancestors.' Onoelle resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the explanation. To him the concept of a half truth was a strange thing.

'Similarly, she uses words to make the observer draw a wrong conclusion and misread the transmitter's intentions.'

'So she does the same?' her lips twitched upwards in a smirk. The way he stumbled his way through this subject was adorable.

He frowned. 'Yes and no.'

He walked in silence for a bit, trying to make sense of it in his own head.

'If I can light a single fire in the dark to make you think someone is there and then hide, but with words and meanings' he began. 'Then you can make an entire horizon light up and hide an entire army.'

She nodded, following the comparison, slightly pleased with how he defined her.

'Nightmare can make planets appear and disappear at will.'

Onoelle felt her fingers dig into her palms. 'So you're saying that if she wants to spin a narrative, she can and I'm powerless to do anything about it?'

'Yes,' came the painful, but honest answer.

'However,' he continued, pulling her back into his arms and holding her in a princess' carry. 'She did not lie about what she said to you. I understand her hate, but—'

'You do?' She hadn't expected that. Hate was an emotion and he didn't do those per definition.

'In a way, I believe I do. We were the only two left from our unit for a very long time. She has grown attached to me, beyond the unit bonds that were encoded into us.'

'And you didn't because you didn't have the emotions required for it?'

He dipped his head. 'Yes.' He turned halfway, slipping through a denser bit of undergrowth and making sure the tougher bits didn't cling to his wife or his clothes. 'She feels you took her from me, whilst simultaneously feeling it was the right choice to make.' His eyes focused on her, the weak light of the moon lending them a mysterious aura. 'She is still Genesis. We always make the right choice, regardless the cost to ourselves.'

She nodded, but had the impression he was hiding something. She could push him on it and he'd tell her, but had come to know that his silence wasn't a reluctance to tell her, but a sign that he had not yet worked it out for himself yet. If it was important, she would know straight away.

'So you're saying I can trust her?'

'Yes.' A smile played on his lips, visible only due to how close she was to him. She smiled back. They appeared only rarely on his face. 'We don't let emotions dictate our actions.' That was a stab at her! He cracked a joke! Those were so infrequent she could recall every single one he had made so far.

'What about you nearly ripping Jane's head off? Wasn't that emotional?' she teased, her mood soaring skywards.

'That was protocol,' he countered, his smile broadening. 'I love you, but you are kind of a hindrance to military procedures.'

She grinned widely at that. He was in a surprisingly good mood, given all that had transpired today.

'What's gotten you so chipper then?'

He quieted down about that. It wasn't an instinctive thing for him, he had to rationally backtrack the events to see which one could potentially influence his mental state for the better, manually connecting them to how he felt rather than doing so naturally. 'I am glad for Nightmare. Her returning presence is reassuring.'

Onoelle tried to hide her grimace and knew she failed. He was watching her too carefully for that.

'I am aware you still dislike her—'

'Big understatement,' she huffed.

'But in terms of security and ability she far supersedes me. Knowing she is setting up an overwatch is helpful. Once it is complete I expect my mood to improve further.'

She smiled at that. The better his mood, the more he acted and appeared human and the more she could further steer him in that direction.

'I am also glad the question with Jane has been resolved.'

She blinked, unsure she heard right. Then worry crept on her face. 'Mentuc,' she warned. 'What did you do?'

His brows furrowed. 'You were present at the time?'

She relaxed slightly. She hadn't really expected him to somehow go around her and shove her into a stasis crate without at least informing her, but her darling husband took the concept of operational security rather serious. 'Explain then. I don't get it.'

'Jane cannot file a report about me to authorities. If she tried, Nightmare would stop her. Her sensors are up and running and both Agitana and our house are well within real-time reach. Similarly, should she try to flee with her Vertigo, Nightmare would simply hijack it and send it back. She can not run. As a threat, she has been classified and essentially neutralised.

'She could still run away on foot,' Onoelle protested, feeling the need to protect her friend at least somewhat.

She felt the look Mentuc gave her. Then he put her down, to her surprise.

'You are stronger than her,' he began.

'Yes,' she replied cautiously, not following him.

'How much of a head start do you want?' he asked and she knew his eyes to be glittering and the penny finally dropped.

'It's dark out!' she protested. 'I can't see a thing!'

'You'll have to move slowly then.'

'I'll fall! Trip! Break something!'

'You are too careful for that,' he countered.

She felt strangely excited, a throwback to how they had half courted, half chased one another. 'I'll dirty my clothes!' she half-laughed, half-yelled.

'Your time is running,' he reminded her, the sound of his voice telling her he had moved back, no doubt hiding amidst the trees, the predator stalking his prey.

She giggled and started nervously tugging on her dress. 'I'll take them off first, at least give me time for that!' She figured she'd be able to buy herself at least some time with that and slow him down perhaps an infinitely small amount. Or, a more rational part of her added, it wouldn't change anything, except that they would stay clean that way.

'If you take them off now,' he growled, suddenly right next to her again, causing her to jump slightly. 'You lose any right to a head start.'

'Oh,' she breathed wordlessly. Suddenly she looked forward to being caught. However, she wouldn't give him victory that easily. 'Fine! But!' she wagged a finger in front of where she assumed he was. 'You can only run on your hands! You can't use your legs!'

His affirmative answer came instantly. His innate athletic skill would easily offset the disadvantage she gave him. Onoelle knew she couldn't move much faster than a slow walking pace or risk getting caught in the undergrowth or tripping over a root or something similar. Mentuc, on the other hand, didn't suffer from near-blindness in the dark. He'd come after her like a hungry tiger and would pounce her when she'd least expect it.

'And you can't tear your clothes!' she added, knowing that would slow him down further.

'One,' he began counting.

'Wait! I could choose how much of a start I got!' she protested, already moving away despite her words.

'Two,' he continued.

'How much time do I have?' she asked, stumbling around blindly, feeling for the nearby trees, hurrying across the forest floor.

'Three,' came the answer and she definitely heard emotion in his voice this time, hurrying her on.

She turned around and ran as fast as darkness allowed, Mentuc's voice echoing through the night. If she was honest she was really looking forward to the chase.

And to being caught.

Admiral Verloff strode into the large meeting room, located deep within the bowels of the massive Citadel-class Dreadnaught. It was his personal flagship and the outside showed many armoured sections that were slightly shinier than others, indicating the significant amount of battle damage the gargantuan ship had sustained in the recent months. The Admiral was a firm believer in leading from the front and as a result a large selection of Kra'lagh ships had been painted across the bow, signifying the kills the ship had acquired. Everyone who served on the vessel shared their Admiral's pride in the decorations, especially the one that indicated the enemy dreadnaught, the only one of its kind to have fallen in the war so far. It had been a costly victory, one that saw half of the Per Aspera Ad Astra reduced to molten scrap and the three escorting battleships utterly vaporised, but the enemy dreadnaught had been destroyed beyond any hope for recovery and the Kra'lagh offensive had stalled, the loss of their flagship keenly felt. The rest of his battlegroup had torn into the Kra'lagh lines, dispersing them and allowing thousands of smaller other vessels to escape. They had paid a heavy price for it and had still been forced to withdraw in the end, but they had managed to achieve one solid kill for every two losses, which had been a massive morale boost, given that the average engagement ended with them losing five ships for every Kra'lagh one. It had been a strategic major victory, with most of the planet and all of its major industrial might having been evacuated successfully.

Now they were going to war again, after a brief respite, except they were not returning to face the Kra'lagh but the Novican Navy instead. They would be outnumbered by a problematically large margin, but as the Admiral took his place at the large, oval table and looked into the faces of his fellows officers he was confident that victory remained attainable. The Novicans employed similar tactics and equipment to the Empire, with the major difference being the training behind each soldier. The Empire was akin to a machine, highly oiled, efficient and precise. The Novicans were seen, to give it a diplomatic term, as less disciplined. Verloff scoffed. Unruly and simultaneously overeager and cowardly would be better terms. He took his spot and threw the handful of papers signifying war documents down, followed by a series of datapads that he put down with greater care.

'Ladies and gentlemen', he began. 'I am Admiral Verloff, commanding officer of Battlegroup Nemesis. Vice-Admiral Lessirk is my second in command. I would also like to introduce you to Admiral Nalad, commanding officer of Battlegroup Perseus and Admiral Dirk, commanding officer of Battlegroup Icarus. For starters I would like to offer my deepest respect for the brave men and women that have been lost in the line of duty so far. Perseus and Icarus were given the arduous task of holding back the Novican Navy and have performed admirably during these difficult times, given the disparity between the respective forces. Now, onto business.'

He looked around the room, at the handful of Admirals and the dozens of high ranking officers, each in charge of a Citadel-class or a squadron of the infamous Hammer-class battleships. It was easy, to his experienced eye, to pick out which officers belonged to which battlegroup. His own men and women looked fresh and highly alert. They had fought the Kra'lagh and Nemesis was understrength as a result, but still operating at seventy percent capacity thanks to a strong flow of reinforcements that had been directed his way. The officers from Perseus were alert, but tired. They had been keeping the Novican off guard, launching lightning attacks and constantly shifting their positions. Those disciplined men and women had been running themselves and their crews ragged, operating for days on end without break, constantly engaging and disengaging to prevent the enemy from establishing a solid presence, disrupting the enemy's plans. It had been an exemplary performance, requiring the highest levels of coordination between the different units, and while they had claimed little in the ways of kills, they had slowed the Novican offensive to a crawl. The Novic Confederacy wasn't foolish enough to risk an all out offensive without proper planning just yet. Their intel divisions simply weren't good enough to break through Imperial encryptions, otherwise they would have chosen differently. The Empire didn't have the troops to hold the line in an all out brawl.

Icarus had suffered the worst from it. Those officers looked downright exhausted. They had been holding the line ever since the betrayal and had taken the brunt of the first, dastardly surprise attack. Still, they had stubbornly refused go down, reorienting themselves within minutes and reorganising within hours. Rather than retreat the stalwart battlegroup had launched an all out counter-offensive, showing the Novican vanguard just why the Empire was a force to be feared. They had taken significant losses, but the Novican vanguard had been reduced to burning wrecks, even with their numerical advantage, as Icarus had rallied and regrouped even as all hell broke out. Even now the men and women held themselves upright with pride and determination, despite their exhaustion. The betrayal had costed them dearly and they had lost many good soldiers, friends and family. They were hungry for vengeance. He knew who they saw in front of them. He was Admiral Verloff. The Admiral. The undefeated genius who had forced even the Kra'lagh on their back foot. He was going to do everything in his power to not disappoint them.

'Icarus is exhausted and has lost a significant amount of line ships and their escorts aren't off much better. Perseus is in a slightly better conditions, with losses being much lighter, but their ships are in dire need of repairs after running high intensity operations for days on end. Most ships require intense maintenance and plenty parts need replacing lest they become a liability in the coming battles. We should be proud of that. The Imperial Navy is so well trained that our soldiers outlast our equipment,' he joked, earning him slightly straighter backs and a round of chuckles. He had a reputation and he could and would use it. Believe in victory and morale had to be maintained. And he had a new card to play. The newly formed Genesis Battalion.

'To further capitalise on the toughness of our forces and on the absolute confidence I have in the security of the men and women present here that what I am about to say will remain classified, I will inform you of another victory. On the orders of Imperial High Command I have authorised and launched three separate boarding operations on Kra'lagh fleet units. The first two, I must sadly confess, resulted in the compete annihilation of the task forces. We lost countless men and women of the Special Boarding units. However, we are nothing if not tenacious and a new unit was called into life. A unit compromised of the very best that the Empire had to offer and they utterly redefined the requirements to belong to that group. The Genesis Battalion, supported by the remnants of the Special Boarders, assaulted, boarded and captured the full fleet unit!'

That remark caused a downright uproar, lighting a fire in even the most exhausted officers. They knew what that meant, that reverse engineering had already started. They just needed to survive until the new ships and weapons would roll out. The change in the atmosphere this news caused was palpable and Verloff moved to capitalise on it.

'Still!' he shouted, his voice thundering across the room and bouncing off the metal walls, demanding silence. 'Still! This does not mean we shall remain on the defensive! We are weakened, damaged and bleeding! And this is how the Novican Navy sees us! They think us crippled.'

He slammed his fist down onto the table and looked at the gathered officers, fire raging in his eyes.

'They are wrong! We are the Imperial Navy! We do not shrink, we do not waver and we certainly do not flee!'

He turned to a holographic projector and the sector popped into view, three planets highlighted in a deep yellow colour, signifying them as priority five targets.

'Nagalan, Rivan and Lufer. Their logistics, their shipyards and their HQ. Nemesis shall be like a sword and plunge deep into the enemy lines! We shall blaze a burning trail through their defences, leaving nothing but tumbling wrecks behind! We shall land forces on the planet, engage in a lightning strike and cripple their infrastructure beyond repair, before withdrawing just as quickly! We shall not engage their military directly. We shall strand them without repairs, without command and without replenishment. We shall grab them by the balls and we shall tear them out! Like stray cats they will be neutered! Icarus and Perseus will switch ships. The crews of Perseus are better rested and will return to the line with the remaining ships of Icarus. The ships of Perseus will first undergo repairs. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you twelve days for this. In those twelve days Battlegroup Icarus will rest up and prepare themselves. Battlegroup Nemesis will engage in light hit and run attacks, probing attempts. We will make them think we are weaker than they are, lure them out, before punching them straight into the gut. In twelve days operation Angry Comet will be launched. Icarus and Perseus will be tasked with opening a global offense across the entire line. It will not devolve into a brawl, but it will be a running engagement. Draw them out, spread them thin, do not break contact. They will chase you with their numerical superiority and count on it to matter. Do not let it. Nemesis will destroy all opposition and reach Lufer within two days of the start of the offensive. I have conferred with the Genesis Battalion and Naval Intelligence. Our ground pounders are confident they can lay waste to the enemy facility in the span of twenty hours. After that we will move to Nagalan, which should take us another two days, three at most, to dodge serious opposition. There we will drop off the Genesis Battalion and make at best speed to Rivan and their orbital shipyards. After giving them a new function in life as scrap yards, we will return to Nagalan and play taxi to our ground forces.'

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He moved his hands away from the console, pausing the holographic flow of battle and looked around the room. A broad, confident and highly aggressive grin was on his face and he was pleased to see it mirrored on dozens of faces across the room. The atmosphere had gone from grim, defiant and determined to hopeful and eager. From here that spirit would spread down the ranks until everyone would be affected. With some rest and repairs the two battered Battlegroups would be back in fighting condition in no time and Nemesis would make sure that the enemy would be sufficiently off balance to grant them that rest. Given that the Imperial officers were still standing straight, if tired, that would translate to utter exhaustion for their Novican counterparts. In the latest reports the tide had been subtly shifting away from the Novicans. Not nearly enough to offset the difference in hulls and firepower, but the Imperials had scored a few more kills, pounded ships that fell out of formation, rounded up patrols that were just a tad too slow in responding quickly enough. They still had to run away from major, hell, even minor fleet engagements, but anything that wasn't a task force was isolated and cut to ribbons as soon as it was spotted. Little stings, but they had made it count. It was a shame that they still lost that many ships, and worse, that many brave soldiers, but the Novican battle plan had failed.

He looked around the room, standing up straight, a wolfish grin on his face, folding his hands behind his back. He was the model image of an Imperial Admiral, radiating confidence, much to the relief of his fellow Admirals, who were close to collapsing. He respected the hell out of them. They had held their ground in ways few men could, shrugging off personal loss, desperation and fear. He knew both of them had lost more than a small number of family members in the past engagements. Admiral Dirk had lost all five of his children and four of his grandchildren in the past days. How the man was still standing after all that was a mystery, given how much he had doted on them. It had further inspired Icarus.

The rest of the meeting was spent answering questions as the general lines of Angry Comet were explained. The specifics would be given later. Plans had to be drawn up, meetings had to be organised. Ships and crews would be exchanged and that was a logistical nightmare on itself, never mind the impossible amount of maintenance that Perseus required. Motivational speeches would be given to keep everyone's angers burning, if at a lower level, until it was time to strike back. Admiral Verloff occasionally wondered what the Genesis freaks were up to at that moment. He chuckled softly, remembering the meeting between the high ranking spooks of Naval Intelligence and the enigmatic supersoldiers. The mysterious and feared spooks were used to people shrinking away from them and more than a few of them enjoyed that reputation, but Genesis was a bridge too far from them. They were a secret within the military and few knew of their existence, let alone what they actually were. Within a handful of minutes the Testies had taken over the conversation and were asking very pointed questions, planning their assault the way they wanted to do it, conferring with him in regards to the naval assault that would enable their landing. It was a delight to see the all-knowing folks from Naval Intelligence be completely off set and end up being the ones thoroughly interrogated for a change. You couldn't really argue with the Genesis, especially not when they were in their armour. One man had figured this out quickly and devised a counterstrategy. Give them what they want and cut your losses. The rest had taken more time before they accepted that it was hard to play all knowing God who could make your life hell if you were up against people whose lives consisted of aggressively invading Hell and whose information required a clearance level so high that they'd need a telescope just to catch a glimp of it.

He still wasn't sure how the Testies were planning to tackle Nagalan without aerial support, but given that Eisel had given them an armoury's worth of gifts, he figured that if they said they could do it, they would. There would still be a decent amount of marine support, given the sheer size of the targets, but just like last time, Genesis would be the tip of the spear. Or more accurately, the warhead on top of the missile. He had reviewed the footage of them going up against the Kra'lagh a near unhealthy amount of times. Those bugs had costed him too many men. Watching the fuckers get slaughtered for a change made for blissful nights.

But the bugs were of no consequence now. The Novic Confederacy was. And given that they outnumbered them, by Naval Intelligence's most optimistic guesses, eight to one, they could afford little mistake here. They had to cripple their entire network, or they'd be overrun once the bastards got their shit together and just used brute force to break through. It was a miracle that hadn't already happened, but he figured their politicians were to blame rather than the military. Nepotism ran rather rampant in their ranks, with all the misery that entailed.

The strategies were set. Now it would be cast the die and let tactics dominate the upcoming battles.

It was time for the Imperial Navy to earn their pay.

Onoelle was laying naked on top of Mentuc, enjoying the sole ray of moonlight that broke to the canopy and landed on his face. She was still slightly out of breath and her hair was full of grass and leaves and she was content with laying there, letting him pick the green out of it. Her dress was draped across her, providing some minor protection from the cold, his embrace providing a better one. She was happy. Deeply and fully, her thoughts thick and lazy and focused solely on her husband. She purred softly as she stretched languidly, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

'How did you even get so close without making noise?' she asked, genuinely curious. 'You weigh a ton. It shouldn't be possible!'

He had caught up with her within half an hour and the only warning she had received was when the leaves behind her rustled, nothing else. She had spun around, eyes wide with trepidation, fully expecting to be jumped. Her expectations had proven true, except he had been on the opposing side. He had chucked a small branch to distract her and had pounced on her. Having an incredibly heavy genetically grafted superhuman tackle, even when he was careful, you was bad for your balance and she had gone down without being able to resist, but the loss of her balance was quickly offset by the loss of her clothes and the subsequent actions.

'It is possible, but only in certain circumstances,' he replied, pulling another few strands of grass out of her hair and holding them up in front of her.

'It has rained recently, making the ground soft and pliable. The leaves are still growing and make little noise. Within these conditions I can move around stealthily. My hands still sink in the ground but I make no discernible noise, not when you are breathing that loudly. If it had been autumn and the forest floor was littered with dry leaves, this would have been impossible.'

She nodded and bit his nose. She didn't really know why, she just felt like it. Then she remembered her friend and veered upright. 'Oh stars! Jane! We shouldn't be dilly-dallying here! We need to go home!'

'There is still green in your hair,' Mentuc commented, not understanding the sudden change in his wife's behaviour.

'Put some clothes on you oaf!' she hissed, then laughed. 'Jane is probably sitting there, huddled in a corner, scared shitless. Stars I feel bad now, I'm here cavorting with you while she's under the impression she could be killed at any moment!'

He tilted his head slightly, clearly still not catching on to the issue that troubled his wife. She frowned. 'Humans react badly to those situations.'

He nodded, integrating the information into the broader context. 'Then we should hurry,' he said, quickly putting on his clothes while Onoelle followed suit, albeit slower.

'Yes we should' she agreed, yelping when her husband grabbed her and darted off at blistering speed again, nimbly weaving through the darkness and the trees.

Cassy was doing her best to take care of Jane, but the adult wasn't making it easy on her. Steering the Vertigo had gone smoothly, if very slowly. Sure the gears might have suffered a bit when she tried driving it manually after accidentally taking it out of auto-pilot and there might be a small dent in it from when she had pressed a wrong button that did something to the things that made it hover and the craft had tilted on its side, throwing the inhabitants around. She had taken the worst of it, Jane landing on her and knocking her head against the padded inside with enough force for stars to flood her vision. Luckily enough she had managed to undo that, and even better was that Jane had remained unconscious throughout it all. She didn't know why the woman had fallen unconscious, nor why Mentuc and Leonne had suddenly run off, but she wasn't worried. Strange things happened around Mentuc. She had gotten used to that.

What had been a bigger issue was that she had never really cooked a lot on her own before, especially not with the archaic equipment that she had to use now. Mentuc had promised to teach her how to survive in the wild, including lessons on making campfires, setting traps, skinning and butchering animals, foraging and setting up shelter, but so far they hadn't found proper time for that. It had taken her a good while to get the fire going, but then she had tried to remove the covering with the tongues she had ended up dropping them, charring the floor. Then she had stumbled through boiling water, which was easy enough, thrown in rice, another successful step, then had started cutting vegetables. By the time she was done with that she finally noticed the water boiling over, leaving ugly stains all over the stove. Which she tried to clean and that attempt ended with her ruining the woollen cloth she had used and minor burns on her hands. She had eventually to whip up something that was decent enough, even if the vegetables were still rather raw and there was a layer of burned food sticking to the bottom of the pan. She consoled herself with the knowledge that it was still edible.

Waking up Jane had been another hurdle that had been hard to cross. When gentle prodding and shaking hadn't worked, she had applied more strength, a fair amount of shouting and in the end the woman had woken up, incredibly slowly, blinking a lot and not knowing where she was. When she had asked if the woman was alright, Jane had suddenly erupted in panic, shouting reassurances that she was perfectly fine, that nothing was wrong. Cassy didn't understand it, but knew she was out of her depth with it. Taking care of the food had been difficult enough, trying to figure out what was wrong with her sister's friend was a mountain she didn't even dare to assail.

Throughout the meal Jane had been quiet, jumping at every sound, staying surprisingly close to Cassy, something that surprised the teenager. It was as if Jane was scared of Mentuc, which was fair, Cassy knew she'd be terrified if Mentuc were to get angry at her, but he wasn't unreasonable. She didn't know what her sister's friend had done but it had to be her fault. Mentuc never got angry, so Jane must have done something really stupid to make him mad.

After the meal was done, Jane retreated to a corner of the large room, as close to the stove as possible. Cassy felt sorry for her, even if it was her own fault. Her sister's friend was shivering, despite the fire. She hurried with the the dishes and put everything away again, not managing to scrub the bottom of the pan clean entirely despite her best efforts. In the end she gave up with a sigh, filled it with hot water and left it there to soak. Then she went over to Jane and sat down next to her, leaning against her, something the woman seemed grateful for.

'Jane,' she began, the older woman's gaze darting over to the teenager, eyes wide with panic. 'If you just tell Mentuc you're sorry, I'm sure he won't be angry at you anymore.'

Jane's eyes went even wider, before she let out a nervous, jittery laugh. 'You don't understand. You don't know anything!'

Now that was just rude! She was trying to help!

'I know Mentuc,' she continued, her voice steady despite her rising anger. 'He's not a bad person. I know he's scary when he's angry but he wouldn't hurt you. Whatever it was that you did—'

'Whatever it as that I did!?' she shouted back.

'He's the one who—' Jane stopped mid sentence as someone knocked on the door. Jane turned pale as a sheet and scrambled deeper into the corner as the damaged door was pushed open, creaking as the damaged hinges protested against the movement. Leonne all but burst into the room, looking around in a minor panic until she found both Cassy and Jane. Mentuc stepped through a moment later, the floor vibrating softly as the large man stepped lightly into the room. Cassy knew her brother-in-law well enough to be able to tell that he was looking at Jane, even through the sunglasses, and rather intently at that. She got up and placed herself in between him and Jane, gazing up at the much taller man defiantly.

'She's sorry.'

'She is sorry?' Mentuc repeated, his head tilted slightly in that way he did when he was curious about something.

'Yes,' nodded a very serious Cassy, ignoring Jane's attempts to merge with the walls. 'And I am too,' she added, remembering what she did.

'Do not be. I will clean the pan and the wood can be repaired.'

Her mouth fell open at that. 'You already knew?' she squeaked with a tiny voice, feeling very guilty about it.

His answer was cut off as Leonne slipped past Cassy and hugged the still panicking Jane.

'It's alright Jane, it's alright,' she reassured her friend.

'He'll kill me Leonne!' the frightened woman whispered back.

'I will not,' came Mentuc's confident voice. Then he turned towards Cassy again.

'Cassy, please leave us for a moment. I have something to discuss with Jane.'

Jane all but pulled Leonne in front of her in pure dread for the man in front of her, his features pulling taut as he saw Jane's fingers dig into his wife's skin. Leonne hurriedly signalled him that it was okay and he relaxed again. Cassy looked at her older sister and at a nod from her she hurriedly left the house, glad to leave it all up to her adult and far more capable sister. Jane, on the other hand, was petrified, assuming that Cassy had been made to vacate the premises so there wouldn't be a witness. She was struck out of her blind panic by Leonne landing the flat of her hand squarely on her cheek.

'Get a hold of yourself,' she hissed, her voice filled with professional authority. 'Mentuc isn't going to harm you. At all.'

'I... What?' stammered the still frightened and panicky woman.

Mentuc knelt down in front of her, causing her to freeze in place.

'The situation has evolved and new rules are in place. The previously instated agreement remains in affect. You will stay here and help Onoelle in a multitude of ways, as she sees fit. In return you will be reimbursed. The new rules are simple. You will not voice your suspicions about me to anyone, neither in person nor online. You will be allowed access to the datanet and the freedom to move around, provided you stay within the immediate area when unescorted. You are not to go to Agitana without an escort either. If you try to breach these rules, you wil be hunted down and retrieved, without violence. You will not be restricted otherwise.' It felt akin to a verdict, but one far more merciful than she had expected.

'So I'm a prisoner?' she stammered, not quite willing to believe him, fear still rooted deep inside her mind. Something Onoelle could easily tell and she didn't blame her friend for it. Mentuc was a good man and little threat. Dreamer, on the other hand, was a warrior and soldier both and he was used to going toe to toe with armies and coming out on top. An untested, frail civilian stood no chance. She didn't doubt that had she been in Jane's shoes she'd have ended up the exact same. Dreamer had come at her with the intent to kill. You didn't come out of that unscathed, be it physically or mentally. Or both.

She hugged her friend tightly. 'In a way, yes,' she soothed. 'Not in a bad way though, you're not going to be hurt or anything, you just can't leave. Not yet, at least. But you were planning to stay anyway, so it's not that bad, is it?'

'I'm a prisoner?' Jane mutely repeated, bringing her knees closer and clutching them with her arms, sobbing softly into them.

'Jane,' whispered a sad Onoelle, feeling her friend's pain. She turned towards Mentuc. 'Can't you at least tell her the truth now? She can't go anywhere. It would take some of her suffering away.'

Mentuc knelt down next to Jane and carefully grabbed her by the cheek, his movements clumsy and slow again as he tried to play the role of normal human again. When Jane refused to meet his gaze he growled slightly, forcing the woman to face him, even if she couldn't see his eyes through the tinted glasses. Her arms went limp and Onoelle could hear her holding her breath. The silence seemed to last for an eternity and Onoelle became acutely aware of the pounding of her own heart.

'No,' he concluded finally. 'History is not what it should be. Until I have more information I will not divulge more. I need to know the differences between what she remembers and what actually was. Until then, I cannot decide. Even after I know more, it will depend on a number of factors. I am not keen on having others know.'

Onoelle pinched the bridge of her nose. It was... Fair, she supposed. She didn't like it, but it was fair.

'What are you?' came Jane's shaky voice. Her eyes were still wide with fear, but a hint of her normal intellect had come back to life.

Mentuc stood up, pulling Onoelle up with him. He intertwined his hand with hers and tapped their rings together, the small cling of the metal bands connecting echoing through the house.

'I am Mentuc. Husband of Onoelle. A civilian farmer. I am all those things'

Jane shook her head ever so slightly, a sliver of determination taking root within her heart. When she spoke again her voice was more solid, if still weak.

'What were you?'

The question took Onoelle slightly off guard and Mentuc responded with silence, nothing indicating the way his lenses darted back and forth between the two women in front of him. She knew that such a long pause meant he was considering his words very carefully. He was trying to answer, without being able to lie, wanting to help his wife with honesty, but it went against everything drilled into him. Operational Security. Need to know. She knew those were the words in his head and she loathed them with a passion.

He squeezed her hand, ever so lightly, a feather's touch, but she knew he had reached a decision.

His voice was cold and harsh, given colour by the memories carving into his mind, visions she was only vaguely aware of and the very ones causing him countless nightmares.

'I was,' he said, growling the words more than speaking them, 'none of those.'

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