Aidan was about to respond, but the world blurred and transformed around him. He was no longer standing in the clearing of a jungle. Instead, he was floating in outer space. The blue orb of the earth was quietly spinning below him, and the moon floated in the distance like a silent guardian. There was a peaceful quality to the tableau, and its abrupt appearance confused him. He wondered if he had been dreaming about his meeting with the Colombians or if he were now in a dream and the meeting was reality.

Aidan, watch out! Astra’s voice resounded in his skull, and he felt his arms move to cover his face of their own accord.

A searing, terrifying pain exploded on his left arm, and the illusion was shattered. He re-entered the real world in a state of shock. Nikita had pulled him by the back of his collar and thrown him behind her. She fired her pistol while the other troopers attacked with their kinetic rifles.

He could hear her calls over the local comms.

“Mayday, mayday Reliquary One. Spectre Actual is down. Condition unknown. Hostile forces attacking, over.”

“Copy, Spectre two. Reliquary inbound. Boots on the ground in ninety, out.”

Aidan had no idea what was happening and couldn’t focus on it anyway. He was distracted by the excruciating agony originating from his left arm. He looked down and noticed viscous acid burning through his battle suit and melting the flesh beneath. He watched in horror as the caustic substance separated his wrist from the rest of his arm, and it fell to the ground.

Envoy, I’m taking control.

The commander heard the words in his head, but he didn’t have the presence of mind to understand them. He was an observer in his own skull as his right arm scrabbled in the soggy grass to pull him away from the acid still burning into the dirt.

When he was far enough away, his right arm reached across his body to pull his pistol while his left arm extended out from his torso to keep the acid from touching more of his flesh. Astra used his arm to fire accurately at their enemies. High explosive psionic rounds smacked into the flesh of the Colombians and exploded with azure flame.

Their screams melded with the hellish cacophony of the firefight. Aidan watched with wide eyes as the two troopers that protected him were felled by the same acid spit that melted his arms. They barely got the chance to cry out before it had melted through their helmets and destroyed the matter beneath.

By this time, Nikita had equipped her full Spectre armor from her inventory and was using her body to shield Aidan from the worst of the damage. She put bullet holes in the skulls of the lizardfolk while the Colombian’s kinetic fire pinged off of her armored frame. Astra used the envoy’s arm to fire accurately at enemies advancing from underneath the trees.

Envoy! I can’t pull your armor from the inventory. Astra shouted at him. You need to equip it yourself!

Aidan tried to focus on her words through the pain, but he found the acid steadily eating higher into his arm. It had extended past his elbow and showed no signs of stopping. He tried to shut out its climbing pain and mentally reached into his inventory. He equipped his Powered Spectre Armor and was sheltered in its protected confines as allies dropped from the sky.

Discipline has increased to level 46! You have earned 230 experience.

The Spectres and their two platoons of troopers tore through their opponents like avenging spirits. Overhead, their Wraith, two Ghosts, and two Banshees turned the surrounding jungle into mulch. Astra directed their fire while Nikita screamed for a medic.

In short order, the enemy had been destroyed, and the forest had been cleared for a mile around Commander Steele. Troopers patrolled the unofficial cordon while the Spectres gathered a respectful distance from the envoy.

Aidan lay on the ground while Faraj inspected the damage. His AI companion locked the battlesuit so her charge wouldn’t roll around in agony while the doctor performed his duties.

“Al’ama,” Faraj swore as he inspected the wound. “It’s not stopping.”

The commander didn’t have the strength or the desire to add to the conversation. He watched in muted horror as the doc pulled his psi-sword and activated it. He used the blade to slice Aidan’s arm off from the root. The commander screamed from behind his helmet and promptly passed out.

When he awoke, he was lying naked on a small infirmary bed inside the Wraith.

You’re awake, Astra sighed in his head.

There was a pleasant warmth to thoughts. He didn’t feel quite ludic and suspected he was under the influence of a gnomish painkiller.

How long was I out? He asked.

Approximately an hour. Astra answered. Enough time for your body to heal itself six times over.

Aidan blinked at the information. He shouldn’t have remained conscious that long. He sat up and was quickly warned by Astra.

Careful, Aidan. You’re not fully healed.

There was a tenderness to her voice that the envoy wasn’t used to hearing. He shrugged off her warning and tried to hoist himself up. His right hand caught the table’s edge, but nothing happened with his left. He only managed to tilt himself to the side. The movement surprised the commander. He engaged his abs and levered himself upright. He looked to see what was wrong with his arm and was horrified to find it missing. All that remained was unblemished skin covering the ball joint of his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” He said quietly.

As if his curse had summoned the doctor, the door to the small infirmary opened, and Faraj stepped inside. Aidan spotted Nikita’s shadowed form waiting just beyond the threshold before the door closed and hid her again.

“Hey, Commander,” Faraj said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Muzzy and confused, Doc,” Aidan answered honestly.

“Some of that is to be expected.” Faraj walked over and gestured to the IV inserted into Aidan’s right arm. Due to a quirk of their fast recovery, the commander saw that some of his flesh had grown over the tiny needle.

“We’ve got a drip of gnome painkillers in your blood right now. Based on the infirmaries sensors, you’re still experiencing nerve pain from your missing arm.”

“It feels like I still have one,” Aidan commented. “Why hasn’t it healed?”

Faraj shrugged before answering. “To be honest, Commander, I’m not sure. I didn’t think an acidic substance could damage a limb this way permanently. I thought by the time you woke up, your arm would’ve healed to its former condition.”

Aidan frowned. “If I respawn will it grow back?”

Faraj leaned over and inspected the shoulder of his patient before replying. “Normally, I’d say yes.”

The doc traced a finger across the flesh. “But in this case, I don’t think so. We’ve had multiple limbs amputated since we entered the System. Even though they healed slowly, the limb was always restored. Respawning merely hastened the recovery.”

The doctor leaned back and let his gaze meet the commanders. “In your case, though, the limb hasn’t healed beyond the point I amputated it.”

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“So, you don’t know for sure if it will heal, but you don’t think so,” Aidan summarized unhappily.

“That’s right, Commander,” Faraj said apologetically. “However, we sent measurements of your arm to Agano. She asked me to tell you that she’ll have a basic replacement ready when you land.”

Aidan nodded, not fully coming to terms with the loss.

“How will that affect my combat effectiveness?” He wondered.

“That’s hard to say, Commander.” Faraj didn’t commit. “At the lower end of the power spectrum, replacing an arm isn’t much of a loss. After all, we rely on Spectre armor to augment our natural power. However, it’s a matter of time before our organic capabilities outstrip any benefit granted by our technology.”

“Because of leveling,” Aidan understood. “Right now, I’m nine times stronger than the average human, even without my battle suit. One day, that multiple might be impossible for synthetic materials to make up the difference.”

“Yes,” Faraj nodded. “Plus, we don’t know if the System will recognize your arm as you or classify it as another piece of equipment. You might respawn to find your arm left on the battlefield.”

“That would suck,” Aidan commented.

“It would, but all isn’t lost,” Faraj mollified the commander. “What you might lose in outright power, you might gain in adaptability—different equipment for different purposes. Plus, we don’t know how many skills exist in the System. There might be one that increases the effectiveness of synthetic augmentations.”

Aidan thought about his AI operations skill. It made Astra more capable over time. It wasn’t a stretch to think there may be something similar for implants, but it carried risks. In Aidan’s mind, having such a skill would set a bad precedent. The more he leveled it, the more incentivized he would be to exchange healthy flesh for synthetic augments. There was a future where he might become more machine than man. It wasn’t a fate he wanted to experience.

Seeing his commander lost in thought, Doc Faraj stepped out of the room. Before the door could close, Nikita swept in behind him. She had removed her armor and walked around in the comfortable skinsuit everyone wore underneath their equipment.

Aidan suppressed the grim path his mind was delving into and greeted his new visitor.

“Hey, Nikita,” he said tiredly.

“Hey, Com—Aidan,” Nikita stuttered in her reply.

The woman slinked over to his side like a prowling feline. She put out a tentative hand and traced the stump of Aidan’s arm.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly.

“Hopeful that not everyone will ask me that when they see me,” Aidan replied before sighing.

Nikita frowned and let her hand drop away. Her obsidian eyes fixed on his own.

“I’m not pitying you, Aidan,” she said firmly.

Aidan glanced away. “I know,” he replied. “Maybe, I’m pitying myself. I thought being inside the System meant I would never have to worry about this sort of thing again.”

Nikita cocked her head and reached over to elevate the back portion of the gurney so that he could lean back against it without straining himself. Task completed, she sat next to him on the gurney.

“Have you lost a limb before?” She asked.

“No,” Aidan shook his head. “But I saw many of my friends lose them—many of my kids.”

“Kids?” Nikita questioned.

“Yeah, Guzman and I were in Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Sometimes we were in the same units, and sometimes in different ones. We saw a lot of evil shit no matter where we were stationed.”

Aidan paused as he considered how to explain what he felt. “When you’re deployed anywhere —but especially to the desert—you grow attached to the people you’re there with. In the face of constant danger, those people become as close to you as your own family. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No, you don’t,” Nikita agreed. “I was never attached permanently to a team, but I saw enough in Eastern Europe to know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, well.” Aidan gestured vaguely with one hand. It was a strange movement because he also expected his other hand to respond to his mental commands. Nikita noticed the jerky gesticulation and laid back on the gurney next to him. She laid a comforting hand on his bare chest as he talked.

Aidan was put off-guard for a moment, but he realized he needed the touch and continued his story.

“We led platoons, and when we ranked up, we led companies full of kids fresh out of high school. Guzman and I saw our share of horror in Kosovo, so we felt we knew what to expect, but the desert has a way of eroding your assumptions.”

He trailed off as the old memories surfaced. He had never talked about this with anyone, but the gnomish painkillers combined with Nikita’s warm presence caused a tension in his chest to relax. Once he started talking, he found he couldn’t stop.

“The sands swallowed us just like every empire that had arrogantly come before us. The worst part was that the barbarism didn’t land on Guzman or me. We were pretty removed from the front-line combat. Instead, we were the ones who issued the orders. We sent young men to their deaths and anxiously awaited the KIA reports like parents fretting over their kids going to prom.”

Aidan sighed heavily before he continued.

“I don’t care what I’m supposed to call them—Soldiers, Marines, Lance Corporals, or Sergeants. They were all my kids. I felt a stab in my chest every single time one of them didn’t make it home. Sometimes, maybe most of the time, the ones that went back missing limbs were worse off than the ones that went back in body bags. The desert had stolen something from them they would never get back.”

Aidan felt angry tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. He knew it was probably the drugs, but he couldn’t help it.

“Maybe it’s fucked up to say. No, I know it’s fucked up, but I need to say it anyway. The ones who died, got to die heroes. They got to be remembered for who they were. The broken men and women that survived were called heroes too. They were given disability payments for life and medals, and then they were returned to the civilian world with little more than a pat on their shoulder and a speech if they were lucky. Once a year, they were wheeled out on Veteran’s Day to remind the people of their shame. To remind them that freedom came at a cost and that when politicians made war, it was the people who suffered. They had been robbed of an entire life, and I’m sure that some of them considered it a fate worse than dying.”

Nikita reached up and wiped away Aidan’s tears. “You’re not there anymore, Aidan. You’re not going back to camp to be put to pasture. Agano is going to fix you up better than before.”

Nikita’s words cut to the heart of his fear. He wanted to be on the front lines. He wanted to take the bullets that other people couldn’t. He absolutely did not want to be relegated to a political appointment somewhere and watch other people take risks.

Maybe, it wasn’t smart. Maybe, it wasn’t what a natural leader should do, but it was the only type of leadership he knew. It was the only way he could keep leading his faction without regrets. He was afraid, deathly afraid, that losing his arm would rob him of that opportunity.

“Do you think she can?” He asked quietly.

Nikita’s hand slipped down from his face and circled his waist. Her iron grip made him feel grounded and safe.

“Of course, she can.” Nikita comforted him. “She developed our implants, our suits, and our weaponry. Her background is in this sort of thing, and being in the System has only improved her.”

Aidan chuckled. “You’re right. Knowing her, she’s taken it as a personal mission to develop the deadliest artificial arm humanity has ever devised.”

“Sure she will,” Nikita agreed. “But you need to give her some time. She can’t work miracles at the drop of a dime. Set your expectations so that you won’t be disappointed. When we arrive at camp, she’ll have an arm for you, but it won’t be the one you want. It’ll be what you need to get by.”

Nikita released the commander from her hug and then sat up. She used a hand to turn his jaw and make Aidan look her in the eye.

“You have to be strong. Everyone out there is counting on you to be your normal self. This isn’t a defeat. It’s just a setback. We’ll come back stronger than ever, and when Agano makes you the arm you want, you will lead us from the front like you always do.”

Aidan nodded as he stared into the abyss of Nikita’s eyes. There was an unshakeable strength to them that buttressed his own. She had been his constant companion and faithful protector. He knew that with her by his side, he could accomplish anything. Besides, she was right. This was only temporary. The worst thing that could happen is that he stepped off the Ibis, a broken and defeated man.

He had too many enemies that would take advantage of his compromised position, and he wasn’t just referring to the Colombians. Baker and his ilk were just as willing to take him down as the Colombians. He dreaded the confrontation this failed diplomatic effort was guaranteed to elicit.

He nodded at Nikita and realized their noses were close enough to almost touch. It was like a bucket of cold water splashed over him. The haziness of the painkillers was immediately dispelled, and he awkwardly turned his gaze from the beautiful woman’s.

Nikita let him go with a smirk. She slid off the edge of the gurney and sauntered toward the exit. She tossed a look over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget your duties out there, Commander.” She teased. “We’re waiting for you to come back, but maybe give it a moment.”

She gave a suggestive look toward Aidan’s legs before exiting the room.

Aidan was confused until he looked down and realized in horror that his body had responded to Nikita’s gentle ministrations.

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud and tried to distract himself with other thoughts. A few minutes later, he had pulled the IV from his arm and equipped his skin suit and armored body suit. The one benefit of Faraj cutting through his arm was that he had taken the excess materials with it. He felt less awkward without a dangling length of fabric to highlight his loss.

Do you want to talk about what just happened? Astra teased.

No, in fact, if you have some local memory bank, I’d like you to purge it from your memory, Aidan responded.

Sorry, Envoy. I can’t do that. I am a merciful artificial intelligence, though. I’ll erase the footage from the Ibis’ memory banks.

Oh, thank god. Aidan didn’t realize it was a fear he even needed to possess.

He exited the infirmary and rejoined his team, relaxing in the troop bay. They greeted him with claps on the back or punches on the shoulder. To a man, none of them asked him how he was feeling or if he would be alright. It was a mercy that he appreciated.

They whiled away the remaining hours by talking about the Gran Colombians and their strategy in their next inevitable confrontation. By the time the Ibis landed in Camp Plymouth, Aidan largely felt like himself.

He was looking forward to what Agano had come up with and what he could expect for the future. Until then, he was resolved to act like the loss of his arm was nothing more than a minor hindrance. In truth, that’s all it would be.