Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This time, Lena studied their personnel files before resonating. There were 30 processors in the new squadron, complete with new Juggernauts. Same supplies though.

She did not have time to weep at the setting sun. She could no longer hold her breath. She had the best information in the country on her hands, no one else was taking it seriously, and she had both money and a moderate amount of power: it was time to do something with it.

Lena had seen to it that gardening tools were delivered, along with packets of seed she’d begged from Annette, traded with a hopeful but rather stupid suitor, and stolen from her neighbors under cover of darkness.

She hired a gardener – a man who had been engaged to a Colorata when the war broke out, broken off the engagement in the ensuing riots, and regretted it ever since.

“Do you know how to build things?” she asked him when they met, ostensibly for tea rather than a job interview.

“I don’t catch your meaning, ma’am.” His name was Stewart, and though he was pureblooded Alba, it was one of the lesser lines, and his skin was ruddy and blotched from the sun.

No – her skin got like that too when she was outside for too long. It didn’t mean he was of a lesser line. Annette had commented that there was no such thing: if someone had the white hair and cerulean eyes, they were pure Alba, period. Something about the genetics meant that you couldn’t be Alba by half measures.

“Crates. Bed frames. Desks. Drawers.” Lena listed off items that would pass through an X-Ray if her superiors got suspicious. “Carpentry, not metal.”

“Oh.” He said, and frowned. “Sure. But you said-,”

“Wonderful, you’re hired.” Lena stood abruptly. No wonder he hadn’t been able to hold down a job since the war broke out, if he was going to blab her offer out here on the street. “Report to the Estate tomorrow at dawn and I’ll get you started before I go to work.”

Mouth agape, Stewart nodded.

Good. She’d be able to send a proper chicken coop, along with some other, more useful items.

Annette was waiting for her when she strode into the capital building, mouth pressed tight in a line. She was still sour about Lena’s midnight ultimatum regarding Shin, but Lena couldn’t summon any sympathy. It had worked. The Spearhead squadron had gotten out.

“Brisingamen.” She spat as they walked past the jovial cadets ribbing each other about what might be under Annette’s lab coat and whether Lena was a screamer or a moaner.

“Who chose it?” Lena asked evenly, noting the name of the cadet who said he would settle the bet by the winter courting season.

“They did.” Annette’s grimace might have been a smile, but probably not. “Brass thinks you did for some reason.”

For the first time since walking in, Lena half-smiled. The mechanic. She’d have to include some sweets for him in the next shipment.

Spearhead Squadron already had their name before she’d entered. But this squadron was hers from the beginning, and while she intended to keep it that way, she wasn’t going to name it. It was their deaths on the line. It was their pride. They were the only ones who could give it a name.

“It’s a reference to some ancient religion,” Annette said, her shoulders relaxing as they entered the silent hallways leading to the handler rooms. “Or fire. That was really as far as I got. So, someone on the squad is educated, or reads old myths.”

Like Shin, Lena thought, but attached the thought to a leaden weight and dropped it into the lake of fury in her soul. She couldn’t think of the lost right now. “Thanks, Annette. Did you look into the idea I had?”

“It’s crazy, Lena. That many? And a back door?”

“It’s going to be necessary.” She replied, voice detached as they came to the door of her handler office. She hadn’t been in, hadn’t looked at these screens or sat in the chair, since the day they had set off, cheerfully inviting her to catch up. I have to catch up. “Did you?”

Annette grit her teeth. “Theoretically it’s possible. I’ll have a hell of a time doing it undetected though. And it will take time.”

“Two years, give or take a few months.” Lena said, frowning at the blank door.

“The end of the war?” Annette adjusted her glasses.

Lena shook her head. “The beginning. Everyone will be celebrating.” The Legion knew their time limitation well enough to start making preparations. She doubted the Legion would have enough nuanced understanding to know that the Republic fully believed that the war would be over in two years, but if they were preparing to stay alive, any attack after the two year mark would be disastrous.

Annette stiffened. Lena had told her about the new units. She’d told her about Shin’s brother. She’d explained the process that the Legion were undertaking on corpses. Finally, Annette cursed under her breath. “I give it a year. If I keep my job, and if we don’t draw too much attention and if the admins don’t get suspicious and if you help me when I need a distraction.”

Lena was already trying to list her new squadron’s roster by heart – their call names and their real names, rehearsing the speech she’d come up and hardening her heart to do it right the first time. She’d lost one squadron to reorganization and suicide mission. She would not lose another. “Good. Thanks Annette.”

“Try not to get so absorbed in this one, Lena,” Annette said softly and then paused, looking askance as if wavering on whether to say something. Finally, she settled on, “You can’t help them if you’re stuck with the last group.”

“Yeah.” Lena squared her shoulders. “I have a plan.” She took a breath and grabbed the doorhandle, opening it as quickly as possible and closing it behind her, forcing herself to look at the little room with its bank of monitors and wire-filled chair like ripping off a band-aid.

It hurt less than she expected, a small jangle of pain like a halo of tiny bells and a single, muffled echo of a scream. But after that, there was nothing. Lena took a breath, focus electrifying her fingertips as she slid into her seat and activated the PARA-Raid.

“Good morning, Brisingamen Squadron,” she said, “You may refer to me as Handler One for now. Have you eaten yet?”

There was a long pause over the PARA-raid, and then:

“Damn.” The voice was a woman’s, drawn out so the single syllable might as well have been three. Daa-aaay-um. Lena got the strong impression of a rogue’s smirk as the voice continued. “He told us you were easy on the ears, but honestly I didn’t believe him.”

That was from the squadron’s appointed captain. “Sorry,” Lena said, a little cautious. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. Who told you what?”

“Shiden!” this voice was quieter. “Already?!”

“Oh we might as well get it over with – maybe she’ll give up fast.” Shiden responded, “So, Handler one, what are you wearing?” There was a flurry of giggles and snorts from the other processors, one of them howling like a dog.

“Wool,” Lena responded flatly, “Captain, if I wanted to be harassed, I’d be downstairs for tea.”

“Oh come on. We just want to get to know what it’s like up there in the high tower. Bet you get silk panties – tell me I’m wrong.”

Lena took a deep breath and let it out silently. So it was going to be like that. This was different from spearhead squadron, led by quiet and thoughtful people. Annette had said something about Brisingamen meaning fire, hadn’t she? Well named. She couldn’t show weakness, no matter how much her cheeks flushed. At least they couldn’t see that here. “Well, the cadets made a bet about bedding me before winter courting season on my way up here, so if you’d like to get in on that to find out for yourself Captain Shiden Iida, I’m sure I can get you in contact later.” She said. “However, I’m here to talk strategy and early warning systems right now. I don’t care what you’ve heard about this assignment. I will not tolerate your deaths, especially to a surprise attack. What did your squads before this one do to minimize casualties from sudden attacks?”

Lena counted the seconds of thunderous silence, letting it stretch out into the thirties before someone – Brea Hrubil – timidly stuttered out. “My former captain had a pair of binoculars. Someone was always out with them.”

“That’s good for reconnaissance, processor Hrubil.” Lena said. “Processor Adebayo,” she called out the name without a hitch and silently congratulated herself on practicing the longer names, “According to your file, you are the longest surviving processor here. Your thoughts?”

More silence. It felt like the entire squadron was looking at each other in bewilderment. But this time, it only took to the count of twenty. “Me’n my brother buried ordinance and rigged them to explode with pressure.” He was easily the oldest processor Lena had met at 17.

There was a flurry of whispers. “Landmines,” Lena said. “You rigged land mines?”

“Yeah,” Adebayo said with a shrug. “If we heard one go off or saw the smoke, we sortied.”

“Could you do it again?” Lena asked. “And teach the others how?”

“You gotta have long fingers,” Adebayo said slowly, “and it’s dangerous…I…”

“You don’t need to say it,” Lena interrupted gently as possible, hearing the catch in his tone. “What if I sent you tools for it? What would they look like?”

As Adebayo described the tools, Shiden remained quiet, and slowly, a few others chimed in with ideas on how to stagger scouting, use quadrants to easily identify routes of attack, and booby trap the nearby ruins. After two hours, Lena had finally managed to hear the voice and said aloud the name of every one of her new processors, and they had gone over the terrain and common tactics seen from this area of legion. Several of the processors had never fought in the marshland which had claimed at least two of her former processors lives. They would be wary of the pools and streams now.

“All right everyone, that’s it for today,” Lena said. “We will meet again tomorrow for introductions on individual and group tactics.”

“Handler one…” the quiet second in command spoke again. “Will you be checking in this evening?”

“Yes,” Lena said. “You and Shiden are expected to speak with me each evening, as well as preparing reports after every sortie.”

"Don't you want to know our call-names?" That was Sento, a louder, brash man Lena could already tell was going to be difficult.

"I already know them," Lena said. "But we will go over them tomorrow during the meeting, thank you for the reminder."

There was a snort on the line. “Hey, Handler One,” Shiden said, her former easy bravado replaced with a smoldering irritation. “You know all our names, but never told us yours.”

There it was. It had taken them a little longer than she’d expected to call her on it. She’d thought long and hard about how best to show them things were going to be different under her, decided to start by aggressively doing things differently than she had at the beginning with spearhead squadron. They expected a cold, emotionless handler, and frankly, she no longer had time for emotion. The legion would be on them like a ton of bricks in less than two years if she was right. So they could have the handler they expected, but with actual competence and exacting care: as if they were a tool worthy of respect, honing, and use, rather than dispensable drones. “Unimportant,” Lena said. “I am your Handler; it is my duty to know your names and your skills.”

“Bull shit it’s unimportant!” Shiden spat. “You’re not some computer reading off a chess game! We’ve gotta listen to you, because we gotta live, but we’ve all had a goddamn Handler one by now – they change voices every two weeks, or they just say hello and then shut it down. If you want to be different - and I can tell you do since you just spent two hours making plans - you gotta be something other than handler one. Now what’s your name?!”

No wonder Shiden had been sent to the final squadron faster than usual. According to her records, she technically wasn’t due to be discharged for quite some time. She should have had some more time in the less dangerous units before being sent out here. But if this was how she spoke to handlers…

Lena sighed. She’d intended to keep it back for a little longer, but wasn’t withholding her own humanity another way of disregarding theirs? “Very well. My name is Vladilena Milize. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shiden.”

There was a pause, and then.

Snort.

Another pause.

Shiden chuckled, then guffawed. “Vladilena? Vladilena? What are you, some mythic princess?” She was cackling now.

“It…” Lena found herself a little lost for words for the first time, mumbling, “It’s from the original San Magnolia monarchy lines.”

“Of course it is!” This only sent Shiden into gales of laughter, and several others were joining her now. “Bahaha, ok, your Majesty, I see why you didn’t want to tell us now. Totally fair. We’ll talk to you tonight, eh? My room, say, eight o’clock?”

Lena could almost hear her waggling her eyebrows, but unlike before, it sounded less like she was trying to make Lena squirm, and more like she was making a joke. “Along with your vice-captain,” Lena replied evenly. “Yes.”

“Oo, hear that? Menage-a-trois!”

“I’m so sorry about her, Handler one,” Shana, one of the quieter girls, stuttered over the line, “You should go, we’ll talk to you later.”

“It’s quite all right,” Lena said with a slight smile. At least the Brisingamen was… boisterous. They weren’t there to die. “I look forward to working with you.”

As she ended the PARA-raid connection, she heard the voices of the processors all start to talk at once, with the first words out of someone – she wasn’t sure who – being what the-??

Lena smiled to herself. A rocky start, but it didn’t appear she’d messed up on the first day. She stood, dusted herself off, stretched, and rolled her shoulders. Now, to go make plans for that gardener.

Chapter Text

Their first fight as a unit under her command went better than she’d expected. There were no casualties. There was only one injury, and it was just a simple laceration which Shana got when a legion made a final wrench off of her pile driver.

Injured, Lena ordered Shana to tend her wounds and opted to speak to Shiden alone on the post-battle update.

“How do you think that went, captain Iida? Is there anything we could have done better?”

“All business, aren’t you?” Shiden sighed, and Lena heard her flop onto the bed which Shin had slept in for so-

No. Not now. Lena shook her head. “My last unit had a rocky start with me,” she said, and she didn’t mean it to be as soft and forlorn as it came out.
Shiden didn’t say anything though, making a ticking sound with her lips and tongue. Finally, she sat up. “You’re not bad,” she said. “I think you could be a little slower, more clear with your orders. I don’t think any of the others caught it, but you were worried.”

She’d learned the hard way not to say anything immediately to criticism. The first thing to do was thank the person, then shut up and think about it.

“We were a little nervous too, though,” Shiden said with a sigh, “so don’t overthink that criticism. It was performance nerves on all sides. But you warned them about the marshes and hidden lakes, and I’m pretty sure that saved Brea’s life.”

“If you could keep reminding them of that,” Lena said, trying not to think about Kaie. “That mud is deadly.”

“No shit.” Shiden said. “Oughta call you ‘Handler Obvious’.”

Lena chose to ignore the rib. Changing the subject sounded like a good idea. “Captain, could you get me a list a medications your people need? Ones you don’t have.”

“What, you gonna request them from the brass?” Shiden asked with a snort. “Fat lot of good that’ll get you. They aren’t gonna waste good stuff on us.”

“All I can do is ask.” Lena said evenly. If she bought it for herself, with her own money, and shipped it in one of the boxes her gardener would make.

“Hm.” Shiden said. “Well, I can tell you off the top of my head that ideally, we’d have some sleeping aids, allergy medications, stuff for colds, flus, and upset stomachs, and at least one vial of real, honest-to-god morphine or something like that.”

That was about what she had expected – the only medication normally at the 86 barracks was simple asprin or ibuprofen, which was useful when it was needed, but other than that didn’t do a lot of good. But it was curious… “Just one?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Shiden sighed. “One of the people in my second unit… we got to him in time to pull him out of the wreckage of his Juggernaut, but…” she cut off. “Well, it would have been nice to say goodbye. Have a final dinner. Let him sleep rather than scream.”

The words hung in the PARA-raid for half a minute while Lena took that in. Shiden was brazen and loud, but in the end she was of a similar age to her and the spearhead squadron. And she had seen all the same things, the same horrors and heartbreaks. She was new, but she was the same. “I understand,” Lena said, then cleared her throat. Annette had insisted she ask about one medication in particular, because it would be difficult to get, since it was needed every day. “And do you need any birth control measures?”

I can’t ask her about that! Lena squaked when Annette said it.

You have to, Lena. Annette’s face was practically twisted in certainty. Think about it. How awful would it be to find yourself pregnant on the front lines?! Get over yourself and ask!

“Wha-? You fuckin’ with me, your Majesty?” Shiden asked, and for the first time, she sounded a little annoyed.

“No!” Lena said, gesturing with both hands to the blank screens in front of her. “No! I just… thought it would be a difficult situation for you and the other wo-,”

“You’re kidding. I thought you were pretty high up, but you’re just a small fry, aren’t you? How old are you?”

“Huh?” Lena floundered in the conversation. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m almost sixteen…”

“Oof.” Shiden flopped back on the bed. “Well, don’t talk about it to any of the other girls out here, Handler One. I don’t really care, but some of them get pretty messed up about it.” Lena was just about to ask again – what was she talking about? – when Shiden spoke again. “They sterilized me when I was ten. Some of the other girls were a little older, but not by much. They come through the camps and give you a pill, force you to swallow it while they watch. You don’t even bleed.”

“Th-they what?” Lena stammered, trying to wrap her mind around what Shiden was saying. “All of you?”

“Mmm, not everyone. Most that I know, but I’m sure they missed a few. It’s not like they hand you the pill to enlist or anything. And it could have just been my region or something. But no, most of us aren’t even able to have kids – not that it matters now, being in this squad and all.”

“You are not going on that suicide mission,” Lena croaked, vacillating between numb horror and blinding rage. Would she ever stop discovering new lows of the Republic? To temporarily halt reproduction in a warzone was understandable – a baby couldn’t possibly survive the front lines – but to take the chance away entirely? What kinds of monsters…?

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Shiden snorted. “Well, your majesty, if you’re quashing an entire race, you don’t just let them breed. After all, their children might come for you, and soldiers shouldn’t leave anyone at home anyway.” The bitter note on her voice made Lena wonder how much she cared after all.

“Do you know if it’s reversible?” she asked softly.

“Hell if I know. I wouldn’t reverse it even if I could. Don’t sound so sad, your majesty, it’s not your burden to bear.”

“You’re right,” Lena said immediately, because it wasn’t. Not in the way Shiden was talking about, anyway. It was another sin to add to the endless roster, but it certainly wasn’t her weight. “Thank you for telling me about it. I’ll be sure not to talk about it to the others.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shiden sighed. “Anyway, I’ll get Shana on in the morning, I think she’s asleep now. Talk to you then, Handler One.”

“Of course. Over and out.” Lena reached back, pulled off the PARA-raid, and sat, staring at the black light of the monitors for half an hour, trying to decide whether to tear her hair out in rage, or cry into her hands.

Had the women of Spearhead been sterilized and just never mentioned it? Certainly they wouldn’t have a reason to, that Lena could remember, and she spent most of her time talking to Shin anyway. Were the men sterilized too? How would they even know? Maybe they had escaped because they were old enough, or in a different camp, or only a few of the women had been a part of it…

But if it had only been in one part of the country, and it had been about seven years ago – did that mean they had expanded the sterilization to all 86 by now? Or was it still just part of them? Lena stood and pulled back her hair, swallowing back tears.

First, she had to get those medications. All the normal things she kept in her bathroom cabinet.

Then, she would set about finding that morphine. At least two vials.

And then she’d look for files relating to the sterilization program, and pray that it ended there.

Chapter Text

She had never been very good at lying or playing something she wasn’t, as Annette often told her. Still, there was nothing to do here but lie. If she wanted that information, she either had to play stupid or play bigot.

She usually chose stupid. Stupid was much easier to do, and the doctors in that part of the country would certainly believe she was stupid already. After all, she’d volunteered to clean out an old facility in the west sector – where Shiden and several others of the Brisignmen unit were original from, provided their files hadn’t been tampered with. Still, it was worth asking Annette for advice, she was much better at this sort of thing. She had no idea where to start looking for information in a laboratory, and Annette practically grew up in labs.

“Wear the short skirt if you’re going to do that,” Annette said dryly, looking her up and down. “And undo your top buttons.”

“That’s out of uniform compliance,” Lena replied, frowning, “why?”

From her desk, Annette gave a withering look over her glasses. “You’re kidding, right?” When Lena shook her head, the scientist sighed. “Are you sure I shouldn’t go with you? Honestly Lena, if you play stupid, you’re still going to have to go along with their racist dog whistles, and you don’t know half of them, do you?”

“I’ll just play with my hair or something,” Lena frowned. “I can do it.”

“Show me,” Annette said, sitting back and crossing one leg over the other as well as her arms. “If a general says something about the 86 being empire spies, what are you going to say in reply?”

“The Empire is dead, why would anyone say that?” Lena asked.

Annette turned up her palms, gesturing as if to say see? Exactly. To an unseen observer. Then she placed her hands on her knees and stood up. “I’m going to request leave,” she said. “Ugh, I was supposed to use that leave for a spa day, you know.”

Lena blinked. It had been almost four months since she had smeared Annette’s nose in the past to force her to help with the Spearhead squadron’s exit from the final sector, and honestly, she had expected her friend to mad at her for years. The brass was certainly still angry, but with her talent as a handler… well, they couldn’t do much about it. “Why?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Annette went silent, still turned towards her desk, and for a long moment Lena didn’t think she’d answer. But then, her shoulder’s slumped, and she leaned down to unlock a drawer. “You told me I probably had until the end of the war to develop that idea you had,” she said. “And I couldn’t believe it.”

“You read the report then,” Lena said. “About the Shepherds.”

Annette shook her head. “That wasn’t why.” She pulled out a small memory drive. “I did read it. But only after I heard one of the fights where you were synced up.”

Lena swallowed. “Which one? What date?”

“The first one,” Annette said. “I wanted to know why every other handler left after their first fight. I wanted to know why you stayed. Why you could deal with what they couldn’t. Why you were so wrapped up in them. Why you used him against me when he probably doesn’t remember me, and if he does, he remembers me as the girl who betrayed him…” Annette looked down at the memory file in her hand, lips working for a moment as if deciding where to go, and finally settling in a weary, mournful disgust. “I can’t believe you went back, Lena. I wasn’t even synced up, I was just listening, and it was awful.”

First she felt embarrassment: she had nearly broken down and run away as well the first time she’d heard the Legion through Shin. Then she felt anger: she’d been making reports about Shin’s ability for months and no one had listened? No one had confirmed her story or even thought to check it? But then she quashed the anger: things were different now. Annette was on her side, working with her instead of apathetically watching, dangling her fingers in the pond and mourning the lack of ways to help.

And then, an idea struck her. “Annette, how does the PARA-raid recording work?”

Annette blinked. “Standard recording and archival. Just a continual recording with date time stamps. Why?”

“Can you by-pass it?” Lena asked, almost standing on her toes with anticipation. Of course Annette could by-pass it.

Annette frowned, then cocked her head, then blinked. “Yeah.” She said. “I can. But you’ll have to give me replacement footage for the time you spend not recording – they do check that there’s footage, but no one goes through and watches or monitors what footage is there.”

“So if I gave you twelve hours of me and the captains talking about nothing…”

“I could give you 12 hours of non-recording, yeah.”

Lena smiled. “Great. I’ll have that to you as soon as I can. I’m going to request your assistance at the clean up. After all, there will be technical things and I have no idea what to do with them. It was a research facility after all.”

Annette groaned. “There’s no way my superiors will agree to that,” she said.

“Leave it to me and pack,” Lena said, turning.

“It’s not like I don’t have things to do!” Annette protested again, “Lena, honestly, all you have-,” the door shut and Annette sighed, flopping into her chair. “I guess I’ll go get my slutty dress,” she muttered.

~^~

It wasn’t easy, being the best friend of a girl like Lena. She was too honest, too good, and far, far too gullible. But as Annette leaned forward to adjust a strap on her shoe which was already perfectly in place and glanced up to find the lead researcher whose facility they were helping to decommission staring directly down her cleavage, she was very glad this job fell to her rather than Lena.

Lena would not have known what to do with the lingering eye contact, the quirked eyebrow. Despite her acute military prowess, she was startlingly naiive, after all, her mother was uptight aristocracy and had no doubt given Lena the impression that a kiss was tantamount to fucking in broad daylight. Annette, on the other hand, had been “blessed” with five suitors a month since she was fourteen, and the very best way to scare off a suitor was to sleep with them as soon as possible, sometime after which they would usually break off the courtship on grounds of “incompatible ideas” because they realized she’d slept with at least thirty other men.

Once or twice they had threatened to tell her guardian about the tryst. It always made her chuckle: her guardian didn’t care – she had her own children to worry about, thankfully. But of course, if they did that, she would point out, she could simply say she had been forced and they would be married anyway. Just take the win. We had a good time, now we can part ways, no one has to talk about it. Because they knew if they did, the game was up.

It wasn’t always pleasant to sleep with them, but it was a system that worked and kept her in the laboratory. And now, it was giving her the ammunition to find out more about this sterilization program Lena claimed the 86 had told her about.

“So, tell me,” she said. “What was this facility used for, anyway?” She sat up, smiled winningly. “I was hardly given any notice for coming to help – so I have no idea.” Not as much of a lie as one might assume, she thought to herself.

“Oh, Medical research, mostly,” the researcher said. He had been the head of the team, and while he was older, Annette had to admit she was impressed at how well he held up against his younger peers. “Probably awfully different than your line of work.”

“Oh yes.” Affect eagerness. Make him believe he’s the expert. Never mind her background in medical research which probably rivaled his. She was head of the capital’s research team after all. But either he didn’t know the last name of the woman sitting in front of him, didn’t know that she had no brothers, or hadn’t ever paid attention to the work from the PARA-raid system. Possibly all three. Otherwise, she was sure he would have said something on meeting her. How funny that his inability to respect women was going to be the reason they got information. “But I’ve always been interested in that sort of thing. So are you researching medicines?”

“Partly,” He put up his hands, “The top floor was medications – new ways of treating disease, preventing human problems, making sure synthesized medicines are safe. The second floor was human performance – how far can you run, how long can you jump, what kinds of foods make you better at it. And the ground floor was military support – finding ways to improve handler support, strengthen focus so that the handlers can direct drones better.”

“Oh wow, that’s amazing,” Annette said, furiously translating his words. That meant that third floor was probably where the sterilization experiments were based. Second sounded worrisome – who knew what kinds of things ‘human performance’ covered? And the ground floor was supposedly focused on handlers – this must have been where some of the recommendations for PARA-Raid use had come out of, like never sharing vision. “One of my friends is a handler. It seems like such a hard job, having to keep track of all those robots at once!” She let herself emphasize the word robots. He had to believe she was safe, that she was certain the war had no casualties because the people of the 86th sector didn’t count.

“It is.” His name was Hans, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Are you interested in a tour, miss Annette?”

“Would that be ok?” Annette asked, looking around to find them alone in the paper-strewn lab. “It’s good to get other perspectives on laboratories, I’ve really only been in two.” Also true, it was just that she’d been in the two basically since she was born.

“It would be my honor,” Hans said, rising smoothly and offering her his arm. “In one day we shall more than double the number of laboratories you have been in. Let’s begin at the top floor.”

What followed was an eye-opening hour of Hans’ hand firmly on her hip, taking her from place to place while she fawned over his every word. On the surface, nothing seemed out of place. If she had been told to move out of her lab, things would have looked very similar to how they did here. The valuable items had already been moved out. The big items – like vapor hoods and centrifuges – had been moved out and sold as well. Was this going to be a pointless venture? How could she ask about the sterilization program when he hadn’t even mentioned the test subjects?

Glancing out of the window from the third floor, Annette saw a warehouse adjacent to the building. A warehouse? They weren’t a production facility. What did the lab need a warehouse for?

“What’s that long building there?” Annette asked, pointing. “Were you mass producing things too?”

Hans came up behind her, standing just a little too close, so her back touched his chest, and he rested a hand on her backside. “Oh,” he said. “That’s where we kept the test subjects. Pigs, you know. Very useful as test subjects.” When Annette twisted to look at his face, he winked. “They have such similar physiology, you know.”
There was a fission on the back of her neck. Thank every god and goddess that she had force Lena’s hand to make her come along – Lena never would have been able to hold her tongue. “Oh really?” she asked, channeling her next door neighbor who lamented that the insects were able to live as long as they did on our money. “Aren’t they too dirty to use for this sort of thing?”

Hans chuckled. “You would think so, but we always had them clean up before coming in for their procedures.” He stepped over to a door and opened it to reveal a room of pale teal tiles with showerheads studded along the wall. There was still bars of soap in scummy dishes along the walls, and a brush was left in the corner with a pair of something that looked like underwear.

She could feel her eyes widening. They were just going to come right out and show her? But no, of course they would. She was a fellow Alba. Here in the western city, Lena didn’t have the same reputation she did at the capital. That the 86 were not human was simply a given. She leaned against the door jamb, smiling slightly. “Well, they were just pigs,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I hope the experiments hurt for what they did to us.”

“Oh, not all of them,” the researcher said. “At least, not physically.” He chuckled. “One of our programs worked so well, it’s the reason we’re shutting down. I have to admit, I’m a little sad to have to look for less fulfilling work, but it’s most gratifying to know that my research was what led to the pig shortage. There were so few we couldn’t do our experiments any longer.”

“That’s amazing,” Annette said, folding her hands and leaning into him, eyes wide. “And you’re protecting the republic from being overrun by the vermin, too. You’re just as important as the handlers.”

“Why thank you,” Hans said, and pushed a bit of hair out of the way of her glasses. “From a fellow scientist, that is very satisfying to hear.”

Annette waited patiently for him to say something more, make a move, but given his age she wasn’t surprised when he simply held out his arm again. “Shall we go to the next floor? There is much more to see.”

When Lena greeted her at their hotel that evening, Annette just shook her head. “Shower first,” she snarled. “Actually, just come into the bathroom, and bring your notebook. Put some chicory on, we’re going to be up all night.”
~^~

Lena stared at the notes she’d taken in a whirl as Annette showered, trying to catch her breath. She’d rarely heard Annette curse so much, rarely heard her voice catch and shake so hard.

“I know how these people think, Lena. The records are there,” Annette’s voice was raw and rough from talking, and she still hadn’t come out of the shower. Lena quietly wondered if she would need to retrieve her friend from the scalding water, but for now it seemed like she was better off in the shower, shrouded from Lena’s view. “They have pictures, paper records. I know they do because those records exist for the PARA-Raid experiments.” Her voice was thick was bitterness. “It’s just a matter of finding them, and I bet you anything there’s a records room or a basement. We just have to pray they didn’t clean it out yet.”

Lena’s day had been quiet. Annette had ordered her in no uncertain terms to stay quiet and do whatever jobs they needed, and so she had sorted personnel folders, classified files that only someone of her standing could do. She had synced with the Brisingamen squadron at lunch and then at dinner before Annette returned. Shiden had been irritated about something, but it wasn’t clear what, and Lena had not had the time to get the captain to say anything. The front had been quiet lately, that was probably bothering her. It bothered Lena too. Could the legion be pulling back just to come back all the worse?

“So, we’re going back tonight?” Lena asked softly, looking over her notes. A sterilization program so effective they had to shut down the research facility because they’d run through the possible test subjects. Experiments on the limits of human possibility: people running until they collapsed and died. People subjected to sunburn until they died. People sleep deprived until they died. Noise tolerance. Saltwater tolerance. Every elementary schooler’s idle question of “could someone survive…?” had been played out in that facility, if Annette’s reconnaissance was correct.

“Not there.” Annette said and finally, after an hour and a half and half a bottle of soap and shampoo, the water shut off. Lena let out a breath of relief. She hadn’t been sure how to get Annette out of the shower. “We can get that stuff while we’re cleaning tomorrow, I’ll tell you where to look and keep people distracted. We’re going to the warehouse tonight.”

“Warehouse?” Lena frowned. “What warehouse?”

Annette’s face was dark with fury as she wrapped a towel around herself. “Where they kept the human test subjects.”

~^~

Chapter Text

The warehouse lot was cold, but surprisingly bright for midnight. Annette waved her across the entrance and over the security gate, then into the double doors. She shut the doors behind them and looked around with a frown. “How do you know where to go?” Lena whispered.

“I don’t, for sure,” Annette whispered back after a long pause in which Lena wondered if her friend had even heard her. “But I know what they needed to make this work.” She turned towards the wall on the right. “Let see what the living situation was like first. Have you got the camera?”

“Yeah.” She had three reels of film in her pocket and one in the camera. “Lead on.”

She had a habit of drawing blueprints in her head in order to make sure she always knew where a place was – how it was set up – just in case she needed to lead a fight through something like it. The warehouse was a long rectangle with the short side closest to the research facility they were helping with. They had come in on the ground floor, but as Annette lead them down the darkened, linoleum hallway, it occurred to her that the warehouse was strange. It was short. The ceiling was hardly ten feet, maybe fifteen feet tall, which was fine for a school or apartments, but for a warehouse? The ceilings should have been thirty to thirty-five feet tall, to account for large storage and equipment.

Suddenly, Annette turned right, away from the research building, and pushed through a single, unassuming door. Lights came on automatically, illuminating a series of desks and small offices and making Lena jump. Annette quickly closed the door. “Nope,” she murmured, and led them further in.

“Do you think the alarms are set?” Lena hissed, glancing around them.

“Why would they be?” Annette asked. “They weren’t trying to keep people out of here. They were trying to keep them in.”

Lena went cold but said nothing. Annette was right.

Finally, they turned into another door. Lena braced herself for another flood of light, but there was nothing, and when Annette walked through, she could hear the a hiss of breath and nothing else, even the sound of Annette’s footsteps eaten away into nothingness.

When Lena stepped through to follow, it became clear why. The warehouse floor they had been walking on dropped away, replaced by a metal catwalk with railings along the open side. The moon outside illuminated the floor about thirty feet below, which was nothing but bare concrete and, when Lena squinted, fences. Ten foot fences partitioned spaces from each other, roughly twenty by twenty feet squares. On the far side of the warehouse she could see a clear area, and up against the wall was a single hoop. Three balls, one half-deflated, sat in the middle of the cleared space.

From above, she could see into each partition’s small curtained area, where there was a bucket. The one nearest them had something dark in it, but she couldn’t make out anything else from their vantage point. “How long since people have been here?” Lena asked.

“At least three months,” Lena said, no inflection in her tone. “Hans said they started selling stuff off around then.” She started moving down the cat walk, her shoes clicking in the moonlight.

They hadn’t even cleaned out the bathrooms, if one could call them that. Lena’s heart thudded to think about what that meant for the people who had been here. She caught up with Annette. “How many do you think were kept here at a time?”

“He described them as pigs.” Annette said, leaning over the railing to peer into the dimly lit space. “So, probably fifteen per cell – 6 cells, you’re looking at about 120 people at a time.”

“How do you know that?” Lena hissed without thinking. Ten to fifteen people in a twenty by twenty foot space? Minus the several square feet for the bathroom, that was enough for everyone to lay down, and that was about it.

“That’s actually pretty generous, given the facility.” Annette replied, and her voice took on the cold, dead tone that it did when she was being serious. “In some places, they talk about cattle packing." Lena noted silently that Annette had not answered the question of how she knew at all, but decided not to press any further. Annette crouched down and pulled at a metal bolt. "There it is.” Below them, there was a slight creak and then a series of loud cracks which sliced through the dead air of the warehouse and bounced back to them once. By the time the sounds faded, there was a ladder down to the subfloor. Lena winced, listening with all her might for people to charge in and find them there.

But Annette didn't bat an eyelash, and at first Lena wondered at how confident she was. She could command a unit in the midst of battle, but espionage wasn't exactly her territory.

All though, maybe she was thinking about this all wrong. What could someone who caught them even do? Have them fired, arrested? They were the foremost PARA-Raid scientist and the top Handler in the country. Authority could make their life difficult, but it couldn't possibly do them any lasting damage. Lena squared her shoulders and leaned over the rail with renewed determination. No one would care about this facility, but someone had to record these crimes, because someday, even if it was long after they were overrun by the legion and another country came to see what had survived, San Magnolia would answer for her treachery towards her people.

“Take a few pictures from up here,” Annette instructed. “Then follow.”

It was good to not be alone in this sort of thing anymore, Lena thought as she lined up the pictures, balancing on the railing and the cat walk to be sure they were in focus. Six cells, and Lena could see the reflective ripple of the thin, solar blankets given to people in survival kits, a few discarded pieces of soiled clothing. The floor was mostly clean, smooth cement. Along the walls, Lena could see a station with a water tap and bottles of area-cleaning soap, like what they used to spray clean the Annette's lab during disinfection weeks. There was also a few rows of stadium seating on the other side of the catwalk from them. Lena imagined a general or some scientists sitting in them, drinking tea while they watched victims of their experiments, while she took photos of the seats. By the time she was done, Annette was walking across the warehouse floor, eyes to the ground.

Once Lena had joined her, Annette handed her a scrap of paper. She turned it.

YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME - PLEASE, GET ME OUT!

“Where did you find it?”

“Stuck under the post cap.” Annette said. “Look in all the nooks and crannies, see if there’s more. There has to be more…”

In total, they found five scraps of paper, wrapped into the curtains of the bathrooms, folded into a shiny metal blanket in a corner of one of the partitions, and one under the bathroom bucket. Lena took pictures of all the paper’s hiding places and then pictures of what they said. Two were pleas for death. One was a love note between two partitions. The last cursed the guards and researchers.

Finally, as they swept the open area, Lena crouched and lifted the deflated ball. It was sliced open on the bottom, and when she stuck her hand in, her fingers found a small sheaf of papers, scrawled with tiny writing.

“Read later,” Annette advised. “Let’s see how they transferred people – there’s no way they walked them outside.”

They crept along the walls, looking for doors, buttons, hinges, but when they finally reached the far end, closest to the research facility, Lena realized that they needn’t have looked for anything so sneaky. An hole the size of a juggernaut gaped open. Annette snorted. “Didn’t even bother to close the garage door,” she quipped.

“If this goes to the facility…” Lena whispered.

“Oh, it does,” Annette crouched, dragging her finger along the floor of the warehouse. “See? They used a car or a tractor or something to drive them back and forth.”

“But I’m pretty sure we’re lower than the basement of the research facility,” Lena said, looking up. Grade was at the catwalk, and they were at least twenty feet below grade. She could see the driveway sloping downwards gently, and depending on whether the slope continued all the way to the facility it could have ended another ten to twenty feet down.

“Clearly, there’s a subfloor.” Annette said. “Come on. Let’s see if it just goes to the facility.”

They stepped into the corridor, walking slowly along the smoothed concrete. It was a simple, large hallway, with no doors or closets, which Lena found strange. Surely there would be need for storage space? Then again, storage space meant there would be places for people to hide. No, they would want a smooth, doorless corridor for this purpose.

That meant that the warehouse had been built for exactly this purpose. Lena swallowed, then shook herself. She needed to stay alert.

They lost the light from the moon in the warehouse, but gained tiny guidelights along each corner where the wall and floor met. It was enough that they could keep going. After only five minutes of walking, they passed a fence with a gate that stood open, and then, only ten feet later, found a wall and door. Annette glanced at Lena. “This is the facility,” she said. “Are we still way too underground for the basement?”

“Yes. This is about three floors underground,” she said.

Annette pressed her lips together. “Have you got pictures of everything?”

Lena nodded. The look on Annette’s face was determined as she turned back to the door. “You know how to get back, just in case someone’s in here?” Annette asked, her voice wavering a little like it had back at the shower.

“If you think someone is going to be in there, we should both back track,” Lena said, alarm rising on the back of her neck. Why did Annette think someone was going to be in the facility? And come to think of it, she’d been confident that no one was in the warehouse, enough to take the lead.

“I need to figure out where the entrance to these basements is,” Annette replied under her breath, “So you can get there tomorrow. You should head back.”
“We need to stay together.” Lena urged.

Annette sighed, tugging on her blouse a little, but her eyes were on the door in front of them, like it was a beast that she was preparing to attack. “Ok, but let me go first.” She eased the door open. Light immediately poured into the corridor. Lena stepped back, but as Annette craned her head into the light, she beckoned, and Lena crept closer.

“Take some pictures,” Annette whispered over her shoulder, and Lena followed, frowning.

The room they first entered was split into three along the right hand side, with sliding fencing and rails along the ceiling that allowed the configuration to change. As Lena traced the fencing and rails, she realized that it allowed the room to be changed to funnel people into one of three doors. Annette moved over to the doors and opened them one at a time. Each had a set of stairs behind it.

“The stairs go to each of the three floors,” Annette said, standing out of the way of Lena’s camera. “and nowhere else. If you were put into a certain stairway, you had to go to that floor.”

Lena pushed the fencing aside so they could reach the door to exit the room, but as she did there was the sound of a chair pushing back from a desk, and a voice called out.

“Henrietta? Is that you?”

Chapter Text

Lena whirled to look at Annette, who had gone pale. Footsteps were already crossing the floor outside with military issue boots; hard soles that clacked against the floor.

The door back to the corridor was through the fencing now. By the time Lena realized that she couldn’t reach the door out before the person outside opened the door, Annette grabbed her hand and yanked her sideways, shoving her into the stairs. “Stay,” she whispered. “I’ll come get you before I leave.”

And then Lena was shut into the blackness of the stairs. No lights, not even underneath the door. It was so dark that she was dizzy until the voice of the man outside snapped her back into horrified reality.

“I was afraid you weren’t coming.”

Annette laughed breathily, disguising what Lena was sure heavier breathing. “Sorry. It took forever for my roommate to go to sleep.” If Lena hadn’t known it was her friend outside the door, she never would have believed it. Annette’s tone had entirely shifted – slightly more falsetto and almost bubbly. “I hope you didn’t lose patience while waiting…”

“With age comes patience, young lady,” the man said. “I hope your presence means you are still interested in the fun I proposed?”

“Oh yes,” Annette’s voice was still a purr. “I think-,”

Lena couldn’t hear what she said, but after that there was a muffled noise like a moan, and the door closed in the next room as well. Lena was entirely alone.
~^~

The door was locked from the outside, which wasn’t surprising. The blackness didn’t change, even when she gingerly crawled on hands and knees all the way to the top, which she estimated was all the way to the third floor.

How terrified must the 86 who had walked up these stairs, knowing what awaited them at the end, have been? Lena pushed the thoughts aside. She was not there under the same circumstances; she did not get to make their pain about her.

At least Annette had locked her in a useful place: now she knew that they were three floors beneath the surface – so there were two sub-basements. There were not doors to these basements of course, and it was entirely possible that they skipped the first sub-basement. But it was likely to be there – and no doubt one of those basements had the records Annette was so certain existed.

On the third floor, where Lena was certain there was no one, she remembered her PARA-Raid, and felt for it. Annette would probably be awhile, and she was entirely trapped until she was... finished.

“You’re up late,” Shiden said. “Trouble?”

“Not legion trouble,” Lena said, keeping her voice low. “No, I’m just…” she trailed off. Why call Shiden? It wasn’t like she could explain her situation without the benefit of Annette’s privacy. She couldn’t ask her for comfort, even though a voice in the total blackness of the staircase was a comfort she desperately wanted. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the dark, but the total absence of light was disconcerting, bordering on disturbing.

“You seem low,” Shiden interrupted her second-guessing. “In trouble?”

“You could say that.” Lena sighed. “A friend ditched me for a…well… not a great guy.”

Shiden snorted. “And you’re calling me?”

How to explain this? Her rule was usually to have a goal in mind when speaking to any of the 86, not to bother then with superfluous things. Respect their time and privacy. She tapped her fingers a few times against the concrete worn smooth by the steps of prisoners, trying not to think about the pain and tears the steps had seen. “Well, it’s more complicated than that,” Lena said, and made a clapping sound. “Sorry. There’s a bug trying to eat me.”

Shiden went silent. “A bug huh? We’ve got some big ones out here, too.”

Did that mean Shiden had gotten the message? Lena held her breath, carefully thinking on her next words. “I believe it. I’m trying to get rid of them.”

“Getting rid of the bugs? Impossible – especially out here. Think of all that marsh water. Just begging for mosquito breeding.”

Lena snorted. “Yeah. Maybe I can trick them, instead. Put out a fake me so they can bite that instead.”

“So your friend ditched you and you’re trying to get rid of bugs,” Shiden drawled. “What, you just hoping for a bedtime story?”

“Well, I’ve certainly got time to kill,” Lena said. “Might not talk much – the walls are awfully thin at this hotel.”

“Oh are they now?” Shiden said. “So, you could spy on your friend?”

“Definitely heard quite enough,” Lena said, shuddering. It was such a good thing that Annette had insisted on coming. There was no way she could have done what Annette was doing. How she could be so calm about it, Lena had no idea. Even the thought of sleeping with someone like the head researcher was…

“Aw, but you might get some good black mail,” Shiden replied. “I remember once, I caught my brother and his girlfriend going at it on the table we all ate on. I blackmailed the absolute hell out of him because he knew if I told our mother, he’d be completely destroyed. So he bought me sweets for weeks. It was the best month ever.”

Lena chuckled slightly. “I don’t have any… experience with that sort of thing,” she said.

“No siblings?” Shiden asked.

“None,” Lena said, glad that Shiden hadn’t pressed her on what she actually meant. “My parents weren’t exactly… well, they didn’t really get along.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. My parents were totally in love with each other. Classic young sweethearts, and I was one of four.” Shiden’s voice was more gentle than Lena had ever heard it. “Mom was a dancer. Tried to teach me, but I didn’t take to it too well. I’m too tall and broad, you would have had to teach me the boy’s part.”

“You fight so well,” Lena said, “I would have thought you were a good dancer.”

“Put me in the men’s position and I’m fantastic,” Shiden snorted. “Mom was ok with that. I actually danced with her as the man a few times. Dad was less ok.”

“Was he cruel about it?” Lena asked. She’d gotten the impression that Shiden was a strange duck when it came to romance, but it was hard to tell how strange when they had never met in person.

“Never really got a chance to be,” Shiden said. “He was conscripted as a builder when I was a kid. Never heard from him again. What about your parents? Are they dead?”

No one told the 86 sorry for your loss. And the 86 didn’t really bother telling each other that either. They were direct about death – they had to be. It was a constant companion, a given part of their lives in a way that it was not for the citizens of the republic, behind the Grand Mur. “Just my father.” Lena said. “He died on a trip to the 86th sector. Mom is still alive. I see her at breakfast.”

“That’s it, huh?” Shiden said. “That sucks.”

“No, it’s for the best,” Lena said. “She really doesn’t agree with my… ideas.”

“Oh yeah. You people get married early, huh? And you’re noble blood, so you ought to be marrying some second cousin by now, right?”

Lena couldn’t stop the snort. “She actually suggest my second cousin three weeks ago.”

“Oh shit,” Shiden said. “I was joking. Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Lena said. “She gave me his picture about three months before my last unit left.”
She said it off-handedly, but as soon as she did, immediately her awareness of what she’d said hit her. Left. As if they’d just gone on holiday, or moved cross country.

“You really think they’re alive, your majesty?” Shiden asked after a moment of silence. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about them for a while. The Mechanic says you were close.”

“No, not really,” Lena said, even thought she desperately wanted to claim them, tell Shiden they were friends, that they were some of the dearest people to her and she’d never even seen their faces, wouldn’t recognize them in a crowd. Hell, if they spoke to her in person, she didn’t think she’d recognize their non-Para-RAID voices either. “They just… taught me a lot. Everything.”

Another moment of silence. Then, Shiden murmured. “You said on our first day you wouldn’t let us go on those final orders. How are you gonna stop that, your majesty? You’re only a Major.”

“I’ve got plans,” Lena said. “Even if you’re sent out, I’m not letting you go.”

“How can we trust you, when the last-“

“I didn’t know.” Lena interrupted, spitting the words into the darkness. “I didn’t know what the orders would say. When the new units came in, I assumed it was a replenishment, not a replacement. When the new supplies came in, I sent some fireworks for a celebration. When the new munitions came in, I told them I was excited for them to get some better firepower for us to work with.”

“They didn’t tell you?” Shiden asked, and she sounded shocked.

“They didn’t want me to pity them,” Lena whispered, hanging her head. She hadn’t meant to tell Shiden any of this, hadn’t meant to burden her. But Shiden had asked. “They didn’t want me to save them. They wanted to be free.”

“Damn,” Shiden whispered. “I guess I get it, but still. They were fucked up.”

Surprised, Lena laughed once. “Yeah.” She took a breath. “But really, the plan is this: we have to be the best. They don’t reorganize until the unit size gets down to under ten. We start at thirty. If we keep our numbers above twenty, they won’t re-organize, because we’ll still be considered a significant force.”

“Even though the war’s supposedly ending in a year and a half?” Shiden asked.

Lena took a deep breath, let it out. There was no time like the present to tell her. “It’s not.”

“It’s not?” Shiden asked, shifting. “How do you know?”

So, Lena told Shiden as much as she could about what Shin had shown her, keeping her voice hushed in the darkness. Bugs didn’t matter in this case – she’d submitted a report on everything, tried to get the generals to take it seriously, and they had ignored her.
Shiden did not.

“Your majesty, are you certain about this?” Shiden asked after Lena had let out her breath. “Like, how certain?”

“I would make a bet that if the Legion actually shuts down at the six-year mark, I will throw myself off a cliff,” Lena said flatly. “I’m sorry. It’s not going to end, and what’s worse, we’re probably going to see a new type of Legion show up. I don’t know when they’ll bring it forward, but it’s definitely being developed.” She licked her lips.

“Well, shit.” Shiden said. “Lemme get the unit up. They need to hear this. You still got time?”

“It’s only been two hours,” Lena said. “I probably have until dawn before my friend shows up again.”

“Where are you, anyway? It’s so echoey. I can hear the feedback through you.”

Lena sighed. “Long story, I’ll share it when I’m not being accosted by mosquitoes.”

“Roger that…” Shiden said, and brought Lena along on the process of waking up all of the processors from their bed, gathering them in the living room, and sitting herself on the desk where Lena had found the picture of herself lovingly drawn as a pig in royal clothing. Shiden would get a kick out of that drawing, she thought as she listened to the captain start on her explanation.

She’d been alone with the news for so long that she had forgotten how bleak it really was. As Shiden spoke to the group of young processors, she heard cries – wait, no, that can’t be right! She’s messing with us, Shiden! You mean my sister’s gonna deal with this too…?

“Yeah, I know,” Shiden said, holding up her hands. “But this means we can change our expectations. And I’m here to tell you that Lena’s got some really important information: if we keep the unit’s number above twenty, we aren’t likely to be reorganized.”

“So they won’t send us to die?” someone asked. Lena couldn’t see their call-name or number, so she wasn’t sure who said it.

“Exactly,” Shiden said. “But we have to keep over 20 – or we have to fight like we’re a squad of over twenty. So, starting tomorrow, Lena’s seminars are mandatory. We’re gonna memorize the terrain. We’re going to memorize formations, add our own, and become the best damn unit possible so we can all stay alive.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” This time it was Shana, quiet, unassuming Shana, who spoke. “What if they decide they want to get rid of us because we’re good?”

Shiden smirked. “You really think they’re gonna do that if we keep a tight lock on this area and casualties to zero? Besides, we only have to avoid the order for a year and a half. And if the Major is right, and the Legion don’t lay down and die in year and half – what do you think becomes of the Republic then? You think they’re prepared for a long haul war after they sterilized most of their fighters?” She smirked. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m not living on pride over here. I’m living on pure, unadulterated spite; and I’d love to live long enough to see the bastards go down in flames.”

Lena blinked as there was a smattering of laughter and then some shouts of agreement.
“Fuck it,” someone said, “Keep thirty people alive for a year and half? We all made it here, didn’t we?”

“Exactly!” Shiden said. “All right, everyone, back to bed. We’re up in the morning to do some studying.” She paused, then addressed Lena. “Well, provided you’re out of your predicament with your friend.”

“Who knows, at this rate?” Lena said.

“It’s been three hours, now,” Shiden said, “Good grief, what is your friend’s deal? She a rabbit or something?”

“She did drink a lot of coffee,” Lena said thoughtfully. She ought to be downstairs closer to the door by now, just in case Annette came to get her like promised. “Are you awake for a little while longer? I won’t be able to talk for a bit – thin walls.”

“Sure,” Shiden said. “Let me read you the latest report I’ve written. It’s a masterpiece, you’ll love it.”

Shiden’s reports tended to be a mix of over-the-top adventure tales, framing the Brisingamen squadron as the gallant knights of a queen in a high castle, or rouge-like adventures filled with risqué love scenes. They were totally ridiculous and Lena privately thought she put far too much work into them, but they did technically describe what happened, just in such ridiculous terms that anyone not there would have no idea what happened.

But it was perfect listening material as she crept down the stairs one by one without a single mote of light and finally rested on the last step until the door opened to the blackness, Annette framed in the dim light of the corridor as she held a finger to her lips. Shiden continued to talk as they traced their step back to the warehouse and fled back to the hotel under the dim light of dawn.

“All right,” shiden said. “That’s the last one. My voice is killing me, your Majesty, can I go?”

“Yeah,” Lena said as she sank into her bed at the hotel, Annette setting an alarm for two hours from then. “Yeah. You did great. Thanks, Shiden.”

“Don’t mention it.” Shiden replied. “G’night, Lena.”

Lena smiled. That was the first time Shiden had actually called her by her name.
~^~

Chapter Text

They returned to the capital with three total boxes of papers, which Lena put in her room under lock and key until she could go through them. In the first call after her return to her own handler room, Shiden sounded a little surprised. “Hello Handler one. You survive your friend’s abandonment?”

“Barely,” Lena sighed. “She still hasn’t come back to work.”

“Must be nice,” Shiden drawled. “Well, bring her some painkillers. Price of fun and all.”

Lena paused. “Yes,” she finally said carefully, slowly, as if she were considering something else. “Well, I sent her some morphine. I hope she got it.”

“A little overboard, aren’t you, majesty?” Shiden chuckled. “But hey, I’m sure she did. How much did you send her?”

“Enough for forty doses total.” Lena said, “So she ought to be fine. I have no idea if I’ll be able to lay hands on more, after all. Even that was pretty dicey.” She’d had to buy it on a black market via the gardener she’d hired. He had even known exactly where the doctor they used was; apparently he was very popular amongst the less affluent Alba.

“Damn, that’s more than I’ll ever see in my life,” Shiden said, somewhat ironically. “Shall we do inventory, then?”

“Yes. Let’s start with your first box – the drawers contain some small items we’ve never inventoried before.”

“Small drawers in the first box: got it.” Shiden said, and proceeded to start naming off items which Lena was sure were not there. Pens, pencils, push pins and paperclips – items which the 86 would rarely get a hold of. But thankfully, Shiden was very quick to pick up on Lena’s clumsy attempts at subterfuge, and the first time Lena had snuck a few extra items into the shipments to the Brisingamen squadron, she had immediately proposed they do an inventory and asked Lena where they should look first so she knew where to find the hidden, extra items.

Now any time Lena sent items, she would talk about giving them to Annette, at which point Shiden would ask to do inventory.

It was perhaps too careful: the chances that anyone was actually listening to her communications with the Brisignamen squadron were extremely low. According to Annette she was still considered more than a little insane for being so attached to the Spearhead squadron. But none-the-less; if someone became suspicious of her actions and decided to check her back log, she didn’t want anyone finding evidence of treason.

“I hear the courting season is coming up,” Shiden said, and Lena could practically hear her shit-eating grin. “Gonna let one of those cadets find out if you’re a screamer or a moaner?”

“W-what!?” Lena stammered. “I’m too busy.”

“You know, if you need a disatraction for anything, that would probably be a good one,” Shiden said with a low laugh. “Announce you’re on the market and let them all come running.”

“That sounds awful,” Lena muttered, but had to admit to herself that Shiden had a point. It would cause a stir if she suddenly reversed stances and announced she was considering suitors.

“You know, I seriously wonder about your looks,” Shiden said suddenly. “Are you ridiculously pretty or something? You’ve never mentioned it, but the way people treat you, I think you must be.”

“Mostly I’ve been told I’m crazy,” Lena sighed. “But that doesn’t matter since my body makes up for it.”

“Yikes,” Shiden said. “Gross. I’d slug the guy that said that to me.”

“I did,” Lena said flatly. “He reported me to my superior.”

“Wait, aren’t you like, sixteen?” Shiden asked. “How old were you when this happened?”

“Fourteen.” Lena muttered. “He was in his forties. Got transferred out when he slept with a general’s wife.” She paused, then allowed herself to add smugly, “I introduced them.”

“Holy shit,” Shiden breathed. “Here I thought you were faking being any good at politics.”

“I’m terrible at politics,” Lena brushed off the praise. “I’m just persistent to the point of annoyance.” She paused, then asked, slowly. “What about you? Are you considered beautiful?”

Shiden fell oddly quiet for a moment. Then, “to the right people, yeah.”

“What’s that mean?” Lena asked.

“Some people don’t want a manly man,” Shiden said, slowly, almost thickly. “Or a womanly woman.” She went quiet again.

“So you’re somewhere in the middle?”

“More like a combination,” Shiden said, and if she’d been there Lena was certain that she would have been turned away and rubbing her neck. “Let’s just say I’m a niche taste.”

“Are you ok?” Lena asked, frowning. Shiden sounded so uncomfortable.

“That kind of taste isn’t ok with most Alba,” Shiden said. “You’re nice, Lena, for a Handler. But I have no idea if you’d be ok with…”

“It's fine if you'd rather drop the subject,” Lena said. She had absolutely no idea what Shiden was talking about – niche taste to her sounded a lot like how Annette talked about men fetishizing her scientific work. But Shiden sounded uncomfortable, and that wasn’t want Lena wanted. “I just asked because you did.”

“Thanks…” Shiden chuckled a little. “Yeah, I guess it was a fair question. It can just be... dangerous. For me. Talking about it.”

“If you want to tell me more when you’re ready, I’ll listen and I won’t judge you,” Lena said. What was dangerous about being a niche taste? Especially when one was already on the front lines with the Legion? She couldn't come up with anything, so she just ended with, “You're the one putting your life on the line. Your tastes shouldn't matter.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Shiden said, and her voice was softer this time. “Thanks your majesty.”

~^~

Chapter Text

The Legion approached from a different direction than usual the afternoon they had their first casualty.

Sento, Adebayo – watch that pincher formation forming on your left, Lena snapped out, tracking as the Legion formed up to attempt an ambush. They’re using the building as cover!

I see them, Handler One, Brea Hrubil’s voice was muddled but audible as her Juggernaut settled atop the building across from where her teammates were backing away. They were just Grauwulfs, nothing the Brisingamen unit hadn’t dealt with before, but Lena didn’t like this new formation they had cooked up. It felt new and that probably meant there was a new Shepherd in the area. Adebayo, there’s one trying to sneak around your left flank.

I see it. Let me get that one.. Adebayo affirmed, Handler one, do you see any more?

Lena studied the map, frowning. She recognized this formation now: it was a variation on one that had been around near the beginning of the war – a front attacking unit sent off units in each direction to sneak attack while the unit was busy with the main force. But the tactic had not been seen since the sniper and ordinance juggernauts like Anju and Brea’s had been developed because it was so easy to see the ones sneaking around. There should be another. It will be coming around for a sneak attack on the other side. Hrubil, are you sure you don’t see –

Brea! Adebayo’s voice was raised in fear. It’s inside the building! Get out!

Brea didn’t miss a beat and leapt from her sentinel spot to the building across the street, nearly losing her grip but scrambling onto the roof. Lena let out her breath and grimaced. If a Legion got into a building, it could sometimes find a place which interfered with the signal and evade her tracking systems.

I’ve got it! Sento shouted over the Para-RAID.

Absolutely not, Lena countered. No in-building battles, we lose the signal and you get sneak attacked – we discussed this just last week.

It’s just the one, Sento replied, I’ve already got it cornered. And without any warning or fanfare, Sento’s Para-RAID connection hung up.

And, as if on cue, the Legion inside slammed into the wall, releasing an explosion and sprawling out it’s legs. The legion’s dot now sat squarely atop Sento’s on the map. Sento! Brea shouted, Get out of there!

What’s your status? Why couldn’t she hear Sento’s voice? Was the Legion’s body blocking it? That wasn’t supposed to happen – was Sento even speaking? Had he turned the Para-RAID off in the middle of battle? Sento, move! She checked her monitor again – the icon still read operational and the health stats didn’t show a stopped heart or flashing emergency signal.

Brea, cover me! Adebayo said, but as soon as he did, there was a grinding of concrete, and the four story building began to collapse. I’m going to get him.

Stop! Lena snapped, The collapse will just get you too. Hardly a breath later, the Para-RAID from Sento clicked on again. Immediately, the system was clouded with the squealing sound of concrete on metal and wet coughing. Finally, Sento’s voice, thick with pain, murmured, Shit. Sorry, guys. There was another squeal, this time metal on metal, and Sento’s health monitor flashed once, twice, then went dark.

Sento… Brea whispered over the Para-RAID.

Hrubil, Adebayo, on me! Shiden burst into the area, followed by Shana and three others. Focus on mopping up before we mope!

Lena’s teeth were grit so hard that her jaw hurt in an effort to not scream in frustration. She’d told him not to go. Sento had always been hard-headed – she had found out that he was the one barking and howling like a dog on her first call to the Brisignamen squadron. But that didn’t mean he’d deserved such a death. How had the Legion kept him down? Had it been the plan all along, or had the legion simply taken what it could get? They had been doing so well – not a single casualty in six months! That was a nearly un-heard of record for this area, and Lena had received a bonus check just the week before for it.

The worst part was that the fight only lasted another ten minutes. After that the Legion hit their limit and withdrew, leaving the Brisingamen unit in a horrified, painful silence. Lena drew a deep, shaking breath and cleared her throat. It wasn’t about her. She had known Sento for six months and never spoken to him one on one. Shiden, she said. Take care of the body before you leave. I will trust you to review and grieve with your squadron. I will follow up with you tonight.

Roger that, your Majesty.

~^~

His name was Zack and he was studying Engineering at the high school Lena had deferred from to join the military. That was all she could find out from public record. He’d sent a letter requesting a meeting, and Lena considered not going, but when Annette read the letter, she frowned. “You should go.” She said. “I don’t think he’s trying to pick you up or anything.”

“Really?” Lena asked. Zack was from a prominent enough family that it had been her first thought – that he was going to propose or ask to one of the very close holiday dances. “Why do you think so?”

“Boys who want to court you usually open with how amazing they are, or how humbled they are in your presence. Going on about how beautiful you are and he is weak to your perfume, or talking about how rich he is and you would be a wonderful match. Et cetera and so on.” She looked at the letter again. “But this…”

Major Vladilena Milenze:
I have heard of your work as a Handler. As an Engineering student I wanted to ask you some practical questions about field work. Could we meet?

It went on to propose a time and place which worked for Lena except her concern as to his motives. “It’s too short to be a salivating suitor.” Annette concluded. “He might actually want to ask some questions about the quote-unquote drones.”

Immediately, Lena’s concern for avoiding marriage lit up into different guardedness. “You really think so?”

“It’s just a guess. The place he proposes is quiet, but not too out of the way.” Annette folded the letter and handed it back. “If you want, I’ll follow and you can give me a hand signal to rescue you if I’m wrong.”

“That would be so helpful,” Lena sighed. “Thank you, Annette.”

“It’s fine. I owe you after getting you locked in a stairway for four hours…” Annette said, looking to the side. “At least you made the best of it.”

Four hours of uninterrupted, pointless recording had definitely been worth it. Lena hadn’t used any of it yet, but she had plans for at least an hour of it. The records of the research facility had been rich with names, dates, places, times, and actions, but some of it, Lena had no context for. It was going to be hell for the 86 to help her sort through it, but she needed their help to dig deeper.

And so, still dressed in her military uniform, Lena entered the café Zack had proposed and made her way to the back booth.
Zack already sat in the booth, fiddling with a napkin and a small square of metal with a button on it. He was dressed in the high school uniform – mainly a silver-white jacket and pants with a navy stripe down the side, buttoned along the side with a high collar piped in the same navy. It didn’t fit him very well, the jacket was stiff enough that it stood off his shoulders where the bottom rested on his knees. “Zackarien Cromwheel?” she asked, standing as straight as she could.

He looked up, jumped as if he hadn’t heard her approach, and then scrambled to stand. Standing, the uniform fit him better. His hair stood up and back as he seemed to reach to salute, thought better of it, and dropped his hand awkwardly. “Uh, hi. Major Milenze, right? Thank you for coming. I didn’t really think you would… but anyway, ah, I ordered you a tea.”

“That’s right,” Lena said. “Thank you.” She slid into the booth across from where he had been and took off her hat, pulling her legs close to her seat so he didn’t touch them as he slid in.

Zackarien cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously, took a deep breath, and for a moment Lena was worried that she would be using that hand signal to Annette after all. He looked for all the world like he was about to confess that he’d been admiring her from afar.

“I’ve been watching your work, as much as I can without access to military records,” he started, and her heart sank again. Had she really wasted time coming here? “You deferred school so you could join the military, and I thought that was amazing, even if I didn’t know why you did it…” he tapped his fingers. “Sorry. At least, I didn’t know before. But in one of my classes they gave us a schematic of the drones they’re using to fight the legion…” he pushed the button on the metal case he had been toying with and it popped open. Carefully, he withdrew a many-folded paper and smoothed it onto the table between them.
Lena blinked. It was a Juggernaut.

Zack put his finger squarely on the cockpit, frowning. “They told me that this is where the processor goes. But that doesn’t make any sense. It’s not armored heavily enough, and if we had the kind of processing power it takes to run thirty of these from one person’s orders, the Legion would be gone by now. They said that the Handler runs all thirty drones at once – but that’s way too much for one person to do – we don’t have one person run thirty vehicle fabrication units and that’s the exact same process every time, in controlled conditions.” He finally took a breath. “Not only that, but the whole thing is balanced weirdly – even if we did manage to put a processing unit in there that was good enough, at this point, it would be more than five hundred pounds and the drone is balanced to allow for up to two hundred pounds there, or the center of gravity starts to be thrown off. Not only that, but it’s shaped weirdly – we see in the legion exactly what that kind of set up would look like, where the processor chips would be kept and how they would be armored, but while this looks kind of similar, it’s shaped wrong, and…”

Lena could hardly speak for disbelieving her luck. But after he’d spilled out his questions for more than a minute, his face growing more and more rent with something between pain and hope that he was wrong, she interrupted him.
“Did you point this out to your teachers?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. They told me I was calculating wrong and threatened to expel me from the class.”

Lena let her breath out slowly, trying not to let rage color her face. “I see.” She contemplated for a moment. How could she best give him the truth? Maybe she needed to make him say it for himself. “So, say your calculations and conclusions are right. What does that all mean?”

He was pale, and she could see the fear on his face that he had bet wrong, that she was going to tell him he was wrong too and report him to his teachers, effectively ending his engineering career aspirations. But finally he swallowed. “We don’t have the computing power to run the drones. Even if we did, one handler couldn’t possibly run thirty drones at once. The interior of the drones are balanced for up to 200 pounds, and they are about six feet long and two point five feet wide.” He took a breath. “It’s not a computer fighting the legion. It’s a person. Handlers don’t handle computers, they handle people.”

Lena swept her hand over the Juggernaut’s drawing, smiling bitterly. On paper, it looked so silly, like a spindly spider. “Yes. That’s right. They call them processors, but they’re people. The 86.”

“Oh god.” Zack’s voice trembled, and he put his face in his hands. “I wanted you to call me crazy.”

“You’re not.” Lena said softly. “They started recruiting 86, saying that they could leave the 86th sector and come back inside the wall if they served for three years. Sometimes they said their families could come too, or that their siblings would be spared if they volunteered. They are given rudimentary training and then put into a Juggernaut to fight with a Handler’s direction.”

“Oh god, oh god,” Zack whispered, covering his mouth with his hands. “No, and they’re covering it up. I knew it, I really did. I’ve known for a long time that something was adding up. If the problem was that Colorata were spies to the empire, then with the Empire dead, there’s no one for them to spy for, so why not let them come back? And how do you fit a population from an entire country into a single sector? Why haven’t they rioted? And…” he swallowed. “I knew a priest who was Alba and stayed in the 86th sector. He took care of a few 86 kids. He sent a letter to my dad, asking him to intervene because one of the kids was being recruited. I wasn’t supposed to read the letter but… it said something about being a pilot, that the drones were nothing but iron coffins, and…” He put his face in his elbow, groaning. “Oh god.”

“So, is there something you want to do, now that you know?” Lena asked after a minute to allow him to catch his breath. It was horrifying, yes, and he deserved a moment to come to terms with nearly everything he knew about his country being a lie. It was an enormous lie to recover from, and the tentacles from it were far-flung and deep-reaching. “Because I could use some help.”

He shot up, wiping his eyes. “Yes.” He said. “But how? They aren’t going to believe me. I laid out all the calculations on the board and the teacher humiliated me in front of the class…”

“It takes time,” Lena said evenly, brain whirling with possibility. “I’ve been called crazy more days than I haven’t. But if you’ve got the stomach for it, I need help tallying. I need to figure out how many Colorata were rounded up – how many were killed outright, how many were experimented on, how many are still alive. I need good numbers, not the ones we got in school – we can’t trust those.” It was something she and Annette had been puzzling over since returning from the research facility. How did one count a population that was dead, gone, never recorded and/or erased?

“I can try and work out some numbers,” Zack said wearily. “But I don’t have access to any of the archives that would let me get started. I would still need data or assumptions…”

“I can get you access,” Lena said. Probably, she could. “But if I get you access, you’re going to need to pretend to buy in. They haven’t gotten rid of me because of my father and his connections, but you probably don’t have the same kind of protection, and if you start pushing their buttons too much, well…” she sucked on a lip. Was he a high enough noble class that he would just be treated like he was crazy, like her? No, probably not. She got away with much of her transgressions by virtue of her father’s name and the lingering understanding that she would be married before long and out of any position of power. “They’ll figure out a way to bury you. Whether it’s discrediting your parents or blaming you for something… you can’t question your teachers or any military personnel.”

“But, shouldn’t we question them? Shouldn’t we try to spread the word?”

Lena shook her head. “It’s not that kind of war anymore. We don’t have the time to change hearts and minds.”

Zack paled. “What do you mean? The war is ending in a year and a half. The legion will shut down, and it’ll be done.”

Lena shook her head. “I can’t explain everything now, but I have good reason to believe it will not. I’ve submitted a full report as high as it can go. They said they would take it under advisement.”

“Artificial Intelligence learning isn’t a totally impossible thing,” Zack whispered. “We have the concepts of how it might work – you give something a big data set and let it understand the patterns and extrapolate from there. We can do it for our advertisements and news broadcasts already. It’s a little advanced but…”

Lena waved. “Focus on the now. I want to know how many Colorata we’ve lost. I want to know how many we’ve killed, because that will give me an idea of how dangerous the Legion has actually been. I know it’s a large number, but we’ve also killed some of them ourselves, so I don’t know how many actually died in battle. What kind of information do you need to know to start working on that?”

Zack swallowed, his jaw gritting as he stared hard at the table, tapping his fingers. “We need the base population first. To get that, we need records from before the Grand Mur was built.”

“A lot of that data is locked,” Lena said.

“Sure, the base data is locked. Nothing is going to tell us how many Colorata were rounded up because they couldn’t have cared enough to take a count,” Zack took a deep breath. “But we can find marriage licenses or birth certificates.”

Lena shook her head. “Most colorata had their certificates confiscated and probably destroyed, same with the marriage licenses.”

“Then we can look at the total birth certificates filed and subtract the known Alba,” Zack said. “Unless you think they were really thorough when they were erasing Colorata identities.”

Lena pressed her lips together. “That might work,” she said. “What else?”

“We can look at high school graduation photos from area, count the number of Colorata students, and estimate how many Colorata were in the area based on average children in high school to population ratios. In some areas, we might be able to make estimates based on building differences: Colorata tended to build houses that were architecturally unique in comparison to Alba built houses – they included things like floor heating, wind catching towers, or family-oriented baths.”

“You might be able to do that by going through yearbooks and city plans.” Lena said. “You can make the excuse that you want to get into city engineering to prepare for the expansion we’ll do when the war is over. When do you graduate?”

“I’m a sophomore,” Zack said, and half-smiled. “Same as you should have been.”

They talked for another hour about information Lena could get to him, how to get that information across, and what Zack could say if the information was shown to someone who became suspicious. By the end of the conversation, Lena was nearly breathless with relief. She was good at some things. Annette was good at others. But Zack seemed to fill in a lot of the gaps she and Annette could see, but had no idea how to approach. When they finally stood up to leave, Zackarien took her hand, clumsily, but earnestly.

“Thank you,” he said. “I really thought I was losing it there.”

“That’s how they keep us from changing things,” Lena replied, and squeezed his hand. “They tell us we’re crazy for wanting to be better.”

“I believe better exists. But you’re right. First we have to know where we are.”

Lena smiled. Too bad her mother would probably never approve of Zackarien courting her, young and unestablished as he yet was. She didn't want a suitor at all, but he’d at least be safe. “Exactly. You can’t fix a problem you can’t see.”

~^~

Chapter Text

“Your Majesty,” Shiden’s voice was more clipped than usual as Lena was showing a group of newer cadets how to take inventory and enter it into the system. “Reconnaissance found the issue you’d been looking for.”

Her heart leapt into her throat. There were only two reasons Shiden would say something like that. Either they had found remains of Spearhead squadron, or they had found evidence of the new legion type. Excusing herself from the group, she strode out of the goods warehouse and into the sunlight of a glorious summer day. It was a little warm to be in her black uniform, but she was too chilled from Shiden’s report.

“It’s not a full piece, but we found movement prints that don’t match the usual grauwulfs or Shepherds.” Shiden said. “Transmitting an image to you now.”

“I’m not in the office, but I’m on the way,” Lena said breathlessly. Not remains of Spearhead. It had been eight months. There was no way they were alive, but finding their remains would have still burst the small bubble of hope she kept that they had somehow found a life of freedom, no matter how brief. But no, that was why she wore the black uniform, the red streak in her hair. They couldn’t possibly be alive. “Can you describe it?”

“Just a few prints in the mud, way out at the edge of our new patrol areas,” Shiden said. “Northwest corner. It’s like they were testing it on different terrains – there’s clear prints in the mud, but I’m pretty sure the grass is trampled too.”

Lena reminded herself not to grind her teeth. That scanned – if the legion had been developing the year before, they would now be testing it out before taking a few months to a year to mass production and deployment. She’d have to ask Zac if that was a reasonable timeline for something terrifyingly efficient. “How large?”

“Middling,” Shiden said. “Comparable to a Grau, not as big as a Dinosauria.”

That could be either good or bad. At least it wasn’t an enormous item which could wipe them out, and it wasn’t something that could run in darkness, but a new, maneuverable type would still be terrible for them. None of the options were good ones.

“No sign of it otherwise?” Lena asked as she climbed the stairs to enter the building where her office and bank of computers was. Six months they had been looking for some physical sign or trace to take to the brass and show them that a new legion type was coming so they would promise not to reorganize the Brisingamen squadron, but this was the first sign they had found

“Nothing.” Shiden sighed. “I don’t know that the foot prints are going to be enough – they are distinct from the Grau, but only to someone who’s looking at Grau as often as we do.”

“Who found them?” Lena asked

“Adebayo – he and the rest of the patrol were checking their landmine rigs.”

Lena chewed on a lip as she finally slid into her seat, pulling up the com Shiden had sent her. The image was clean enough, but Lena’s heart immediately sank. She could see why Shiden was so doubtful. Even to her, it just looked like a Grau footprint with a slightly longer front claw. She could hear the general asking her why she had bothered to bring the footprint of a grauwulf that slipped in the mud a little. “Is there anything in the detailing we can use?” Lena asked. “A different interlocked pattern maybe?”

“You would have to get a cast for that,” Shiden said. “We didn’t see anything, though.”

Lena sighed. Even if they got a cast, getting it back to Lena would be difficult.

“There’s a little buzz, Majesty.” Shiden said, “could you adjust your system?”

That was their signal to start using Annette’s bypass recording system. Lena entered the keystrokes to implement the recording switch over, pressed enter to initiate. She leaned back. “We’re good. What is it?”

Shiden cleared her throat. “I asked all those questions you had the other day of everyone. How do you want me to give you the answers?”

“We’ve got time,” Lena said. “I just put another 2 hours in our recorded bank last night while I was cleaning the warehouse.” She’d been put in charge of that as an extra duty after telling off a major for harassing a young female cadet who had looked completely terrified. Apparently, her defense had been “out of line” and “nearly exposed the major to significant career harm.”

“All right,” Shiden said. “But I’ll warn you, this isn’t pretty stuff.”

“I know,” Lena said. None of it had been pretty, but Zac had requested that each of the 86 attempt to recollect their youngest memories so they could start to put together how many people died in creating the Grand Mur. Even if they could only get an estimate of people who died making a single mile of the enormous wall, that would be enough to at least hazard a guess for the rest.

They had managed to sort through the laboratory records after several weeks. Zac had helped as well, despite Annette’s recommendation that he keep himself somewhat ignorant so he could get through his high school teachers. But despite Annette’s worries, he had stopped questioning them, and immediately bounced back to the head of the class. In a way, Lena admired his ability to compartmentalize his rage over the Colorata’s treatment away from the patriotism he needed to perform to keep the privileges of a valedictorian.

Every name they had managed to find, they had asked the Brisingamen squadron if any of them knew the name. Only Brea had recognized one of the names – a classmate from her hometown.

According to Zac, this was still valuable information. She wasn’t sure how he was making his calculations – but Annette said that his methods weren’t all that bad given how much information they had.

The lab records were sorted and labelled now, sitting in a box in the basement of the capital building. They included the names and profiles of everyone they had confirmed dead, and Lena had started to put the files of the deceased Spearhead squadron in the file boxes as well, slowly expanding to the dead from the squads she had before Spearhead, and then the others, depending on information she had from handlers.

It was tedious, obnoxious work. It was easy to find when a code-name had gone dark, that was kept in the system and was easily pullable. But tying a code name to a real person was significantly more difficult. Idly, she had wished more than once that Shin hadn’t taken his box of dog tags with him: they were better records than what she had.

Still, it wasn’t impossible. Some handlers took notes that she was able to hack into with Annette’s help. One or two of the handlers Lena had trained herself gave her their team’s rosters and names when she asked for them and didn’t ask any questions. Other handlers handed over their rosters when Annette asked under the pre-text of wanting to find some subjects for the next round of Para-RAID upgrades.

All told, they had wrangled the names and information for 721 deceased 86 in the space of 2 months since Zac had started his project, though they still had the un-matched names of more than 3,000 people. That was just the Laboratory and some of the squads. They still had the records of 70 more cities to comb through. Smaller cities had done a less thorough job of purging their records of 86 than the capital, so they started there while Lena looked for the Capital’s records.

“You ok, Majesty?” Shiden asked after several moments of silence.

Lena shook herself. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s fine,” Shiden said. “How’s that project with the Para-RAID going?”

“Last I heard, we were putting the last touches on the theory,” Lena said.

“Well, if you need our help with spreading the word, let us know. It’s not easy to communicate with other areas, but we have ways of making it happen.”

This was the first she was hearing of it, and Lena tried not to sound too eager. “How long does it usually take?”

“Allow for two weeks,” Shiden said. “Basically we have to cross out of our patrol area and into the overlapping area, and then wait for the other squadron to show up. And the outer areas aren’t patrolled that often so…”

“All right,” Lena said. “That’s good to know. As soon as we have something I’ll let you know to start the process.”

~^~

Annette had handed her a cup of tea and a cupcake. “Eat.”

Lena took a bite, realizing she hadn’t had anything for almost eight hours. The Legion had jumped in the morning and the squadron hadn’t been able to beat them into retreat until an hour before. They hadn’t lost anyone, though, so her blood pressure was already down when Annette had asked her to come to the lab.

Alighting on her seat, Annette took a sip of tea, let out her breath, and without fanfare, said, “I did it. Once we implement, you’ll have a back door into communication with the entire Para-RAID system.”

Lena blinked. “All of it?” she asked.

Annette nodded. “Including the Handlers.”

Lena frowned. “Will the Handlers also be able to talk to me?”

“Yes,” Annette nodded. “I already figured out how to mute them, but it will take some actions here in the capital on the main system, and we’ll need to find a time when I can mess with the system without any of the monitors online so I can cover my tracks.”

“The monitors are 24/7,” Lena said. “You’re saying that if we don’t do this, the other handlers would also have access to the whole system?”

“No,” Annette said. “The problem is that we wouldn’t be able to get the other Handlers to shut up long enough for you to communicate with the 86. They could clog the system with shouting, or demands that you let them take over their own squads.”

Lena grimaced. They didn’t have any real idea of when a global communication system would be necessary. If it was on a normal day, Lena could see Annette’s worry being very valid. “What all do we need to do?”

“You need to give me a distraction.” Annette said. “A really good one. Probably on a holiday so we can have the smallest crew available to distract.”

“You think revolution festival will be soon enough?” Lena asked.

“That was exactly what I was thinking,” Annette said. “We have the whole system if there’s an emergency already.”

Lena shook her head. “You’re amazing,” she said softly. “All right. Let’s think of some options.”

Annette grinned. “Oh, I was listening to your conversations with Cyclops a few weeks ago and I think I already have an idea that’s perfect.”

~^~

Chapter Text

“We started the process,” Shiden’s voice was a little smug, a little amused, and Lena wondered what was so funny about passing a covert message through squadrons of captive warriors. “If you could find a way to introduce yourself like we talked about, that would be better, or at least, talk to some of the squadrons on the other side of the country – there’s definitely holes in our coordination. We know the message has gotten three areas south, but they just re-organized a few of the groups north of us, so they haven’t been able to get out to pass messages yet.”

Lena chewed on her thumb. Between Annette’s idea for the revolution festival and Shiden’s suggestion, there was a lot on her plate lately, and it was all things she wasn’t terribly comfortable with. “Just introducing myself to them won’t do a lot. None of you warmed up to me until we started fighting together. It’s arrogant to simply speak and expect them to follow.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that, lately, your reputation precedes you a bit,” Shiden said, and Lena heard her chuckle. She could almost see the woman lean back and call out. “Hey, Brea! What did that one Squadron say our handler was called?”

Brea tapped in to the PARA-Raid, and her voice was also amused as she spoke. “They said they’re fairly sure they’ve already heard of you, Handler one. Apparently their handler really hates you.” She giggled. “And there’s really not much better endorsement than earning the hatred of someone you hate.”

Lena blinked. “Who is their handler?” She had a lot of enemies, but not many who were particularly gossiping.

“They don’t know his name,” Shiden said, “But their Handler calls them the Guano squadron.”

Lena frowned. “Guano? What’s that mean?”

“Shit,” Shiden said. “Apparently, the Handler likes to call all of their squadrons different words for shit.”

Immediately, Lena knew exactly who it was. She had run up against him more than once. “Ah. That would be Major Lucas von Cerriral. Yes, I suppose he’s very vocal about disliking me. He’s actually the reason I was cleaning the warehouse a few days ago.”

Brea had snapped back to serious. “Apparently he went on a rant about how unlike someone called ‘Bloody Reina,’ he wouldn’t mourn them if they died, and told them he needed to kill more legion to make his promotion. We were pretty sure he had to be talking about you.”

Lena pursed her lips. The name was new, but the sentiment was familiar. “Bloody Reina?” she said. “I’m not sure where he got that name, but I guess.”

“Apparently something about your hair, or your uniform?” Shiden said. “That was just their best guess, he likes to tell them that you wail and gnash your teeth for 86 at every opportunity and you’re otherwise totally useless.”

“Don’t worry, we disabused them of any possibility of believing that,” Brea said. “Though we did wonder why they call you that, given that they’re already down to fifteen people and we’re still at 28.”

The line went silent, Shiden and Brea waiting for Lena’s answer while she weighed on how much to tell them. Explain the complex societal suicide she had been committing since she had come home from the 86’s battlefield? Or just brush it off as a man who hated her? Finally, she sighed. “It’s from a lot of things,” she said. “But my best guess is that I spent a lot of time a few years ago, trying spread word that the war wasn’t being fought by drones. I dropped out of school and volunteered to be a handler because it gave me the authority to tell people the truth about the war. I shouted it every chance I got, but it didn’t do any real good. I thought I was doing good, but it’s not like I was changing minds. So that’s where he’s getting the wailing and gnashing of teeth.”

“Do you still do that?” Shiden asked. “Mostly I’m curious.”

“I correct them when they try to speak lies to new recruits, and always use the correct language,” Lena sighed. “So, I suppose, yes. I stopped doing speeches and attempting rallies last year, though.”

“When Spearhead left,” Shiden said.

“Yes,” Lena said softly. “I had to focus my energy on preparations.”

“And the bit about the hair?” Brea asked.

“I just wear the mourning version of our uniform,” Lena said. “And I dyed a piece of my hair red. It’s not much, really, but it makes certain people very angry.”

“That’s it? That’s what makes then angry?” Shiden asked, and barked a laugh. “Wow, sensitive little babies you work with, up there, your majesty.”

“Boo hoo, she’s got red in her hair and it reminds me that I’m a terrible person,” Brea chimed in with a giggle. “Boo hoo!”

Lena smiled, her heart a little lighter. “Yes, that seems about right. It’s not anything that will help you, or the other 86, but it also helps me find people who will help.” After all, it was her reputation as a ‘whore for the 86’ that had brought Zac to send her a message. She’d also found several potential assistants in the newer recruits who trained under her. Yes, she was perpetuating the machine of San Magnolia’s crimes, but she was also sowing dissent and awareness. It wasn’t an immediate help to the 86 though, which is why she had never mentioned it.

“Bloody Reina has a ring to it, though,” Shiden mused. “After all, if the legion had blood, you’d certainly be bloody.”

“I guess,” Lena murmured, but thought to herself that it was far more apt as a reminder of how many 86 lives had gone under her feet and stained her fingers so that she could yet live. She was only as privileged as she was because she had been handler to amazing warriors, because they had bothered to teach her and guide her to be a better ally, to trust her with their information as they passed on to freedom. Yet saying that to Shiden and Brea did not feel appropriate. They could interpret it as they liked: she would keep her interpretation to herself. “But it’s good that they have heard of me already. I doubt that will always be the case.”

“Ah, but it means we can tell people who don’t believe us to ask their Handlers about Bloody Reina.” Brea said.

“Can you imagine how pissed off some of those handlers will be if their units are telling them that Bloody Reina is a better handler?” Shiden said, and laughed under her breath. “Oh man, I bet they react like toddlers.”

“There are a few handlers who don’t hate me,” Lena mused. “Because they don’t exactly disagree with what I say. Some of them I trained. But they won’t stand up to the Republic. Wouldn’t that mean those units will be less likely to trust me?”

Brea and Shiden were silent for a moment, and then Brea said, consideringly. “Someone who believes you’re in trouble and doesn’t do anything about it might be worse than someone who doesn’t believe it. It’s like giving a high five to a drowning person.”

Lena winced but could not disagree.

“What if we started telling them why we’re telling them about you?” Shiden asked. “Maybe not about the PARA-Raid hack, but at least that the war isn’t going to end in a year.”

“Do you think they’d listen?” Lena asked breathlessly. She hadn’t dared let them tell the other units for worry that they would give up. But now that Shiden had suggested it, she realized what a foolish worry that was. 86 did not give up their pride that easily.

“Even if they don’t, when it happens, they’ll be more ready for it,” Brea said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“We won’t be able to do as much explaining,” Lena said. “You all had so many questions. I had to tell you everything about how I found out.”

“Sure, but you’re an Alba,” Brea said. “We inherently don’t… well, didn’t, trust you. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena said.

“I think if we told them, it wouldn’t be as difficult to accept,” Shiden mused. “And, some of them might already have a guess. You didn’t know about the way 86 communicate amongst themselves, so clearly the Spearheads didn’t tell you. Maybe the captain your told us about was passing his own warnings.”

Lena curled her hands around her teacup, staring into the tea for a moment, wishing that she didn’t have to be thinking about this. Had Spearhead been passing messages and never told her? Well, why would they tell her? At the time, she had been… not of much use to them. She hadn’t been worthy of 86 secrets at all. Certainly, Shiden had heard of Shin before, which had surprised Lena enough. She took a breath. “All right. You can start telling them about the legion’s plans. Tell them that the war won’t end. You can even explain why – that report is freely available and has been circulated around the capital several times, it’s just that no one takes it seriously. But the 86 might.”

“Can we tell them to call you Bloody Reina, too?” Brea asked. “I think it works.”

“Yeah,” Lena said. “That’s a good name, and if another handler hears them saying it, they’ll probably think it’s funny that even the 86 are calling me by that name. I’ll also try to figure out a way to get on other squadron’s PARA-Raid systems.” It was an encoded system, but now that they had the backdoor, Annette might be able to hack them. Most of the handlers would never allow Lena to take over the squadrons for a day, or even an hour, so it was the best idea...provided Annette could pull it off.

Chapter Text

“Hack into other PARA-Raid systems?” Annette asked, and chuckled. “Oh Lena, I’m way ahead of you. Once we finish up Revolution Day, your captain will be able to communicate with other squadrons herself. I figured getting squadron to squadron communication, at least on a limited basis, would be important too.”

Lena’s mouth hung open in shock. “Already?” she asked. “You already know how to do it?”

“Of course,” Annette said with a grin. “You will have to be online and use the recorded time to make sure no one finds out that you’re doing it, but it will be possible… once we put everything into place. Now, how about that plan I mentioned?”

Lena gulped. “You really think it’s the best way?” she asked. It would mean talking to her mother. It would mean going to dress fittings and at least three different galas. And when she decided to break off the inevitable courting and go back to her life, it would mean even more troublesome intrusions than she got now. “I can’t imagine that it will actually cause any waves.”

“Oh, it will,” Annette said with a grin. “Believe me. A word to the right people and the gossip rags will be all atwitter.”

Lena sighed and put her face in her hands. She hated the idea of announcing being open for engagement when she very much was not. But she’d managed to avoid it so far. “Mother will know something is up. She’ll guess. She knows I have no intention of getting married until after the war was supposedly going to be over.” Lena pursed her lips. “She even agreed to it on the stipulation that I immediately take suitors the day after the legion power down.”

“And that’s where the genius lies. You know my aunt and your mother are friends, right? Well, I can make a comment to my aunt, and your aunt will start in on your mother to get you married and boom, it wasn’t your idea at all.”

“I can’t just dance with someone at one of the balls?” Lena groaned. “Wouldn’t that be enough?”

“Absolutely not,” Annette grinned. Lena wondered if she was enjoying this. “You see, the reason this works is that you are opening up to anyone who wants to court you. As in, you are not inviting certain suitors, and neither is your mother. You are calling open season on yourself. And it won’t even look suspicious.”

“ How would someone who had never wanted suitor before calling all the suitors not look suspicious?” Lena asked with a drawl. There was just no way. 

“Because it’s the best way to drag out the process,” Annette said primly. “You have to give every single one of the suitors your deepest consideration, after all, taking in to account their family, money, education, military rank, so on. And not only that, but you’ll inevitably take at least one or two bachelors away from women who were hoping they would be the chosen one, starting spats and drama all over the place. It’s going to be a madhouse.”

“I’m not exactly popular,” Lena muttered. “How many people are realistically going to want to marry Bloody Reina?”

“Oh, I think you’ll be surprised,” Annette said with a wink. “And besides, the night of the revolution festival, you’re going to absolutely stun the social crowd by choosing a suitor utterly un-suited for your family name, totally out of left field, from a non-noble family, who once was engaged to Colorata woman-,”

 Lena’s breath caught and she sputtered. “Stewart!?” 

Annette held up a finger, “and your mother will then block the engagement, and you will be so devastated that you refuse to marry until the war is over.”

Lena coughed. “All of this in public? At the revolution ball?”

Annette only grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort your mail for a few weeks and answer the suitor calls. You’ll just have to show up and look devastatingly beautiful.”

Lena paled. Yes, Annette was definitely having fun with this.

Chapter Text

It only took two days before her mother brought it up. Shiden had laughed herself into a coughing fit when she heard the plan, but sobered immediately when she found out what it was all for. We might be able to find more information on our families, she said, this is going to mean so much, your majesty. Thank you.

Lena was embarrassed to know that she hadn’t even thought of the other benefits to allowing the 86 to communicate with other squadrons, and it was that embarrassment which had hardened her resolve enough to tell Annette to have that chat with her aunt.

“Vladilena, my dear,” her mother started from the other side of the table where they ate breakfast. “I have been thinking. Now, don’t cut me off, listen all the way through.”

She had lost her appetite already, but Lena put a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth and met her mother’s eyes, nodding.

Her mother looked down to the side. Lena wasn’t sure why, but her mother had not been able to look her in the eyes for years. The only clue she had ever gotten about it was an offhanded comment that she looked just like her father. She used to think it was a compliment. Now, understanding her mother better, she wasn’t so sure. “I know you think the war will go forever, but it’s time to face your adulthood. You can’t play with toys forever, you know. I was speaking with Missus Penrose, your friend Henrietta’s aunt, you know, and she said that everyone was waiting for the war to end to get married. But so are many other people – they are waiting for the supply chains to free up and the economy to boom as it certainly will do. You don’t have to wait for those things, so, you’ll have less options if you wait. But if you start now, there are hundreds of eligible, noble men, wanting to start a family now, to get a head start on the life we’ll live once the legion are gone and we can grow outside the Gran Mur again.”

Annette had told her how this conversation should go. She needed to resist, at first. She needed to make her mother nag her, bother her, for at least a week, then promise to think about it, then make her mother nag her more, and finally give in.

It was tempting to just give in. The argument wasn’t actually unsound, if Lena had been interested in marrying for money, status, or any of the usual things. But she knew that would look… out of sorts. She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I don’t have time to be courting right now,” she said. “I have my duties.”

“Yes of course,” Her mother, somehow, resisted rolling her eyes, which was as much an indicator of how much she was trying to get Lena to agree as speaking of it at all. “But Lena. You don’t want to have to choose from the dregs of the pool of eligible men, do you?”

“I don’t want to choose at all. I want to marry because I enjoy a man’s company, at the very least.” Lena replied with the same bored excuse she had used many a time.

“I’m glad you’ve at least come to your senses about wanting love,” her mother said. Privately, Lena snorted. It was amazing the love excuse had worked for as long as it did. “But Lena. Isn’t it best to choose from among a large number of possibilities? Then you’ll be able to have the best chance of finding a man you get along with, so you do not end up marrying a man who does not share your… ideas.”

Annette must have somehow fed her mother lines or something, because had not been a manufactured conversation, had Lena actually been willing to consider marriage… this was a reasonable line of logic, and the pause Lena had to take in order to figure out a deflection was genuine, much to her own surprise. She grabbed her hat and jammed it onto her head, taking an orange. She couldn’t outright deny her mother, and the best way to get her to start nagging was to simply not answer her directly. “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Think about it, Lena!” Margareta called after her. “I just want what’s best for you!”

~^~

“I hear from my aunt that your mother is wearing you down,” Annette said three days later with a gleefully wicked smile. “How’s that going for you?”

In answer, Lena held up the magazine her mother had shoved into her hands that morning. It was a wedding magazine, with a bride on the cover, posed beautifully against a wall covered in blue flowers and ivy. Article titles like Tasteful Engagement Parties that Get Around Supply Shortages and Open Courting – Let the Men Come to You! “Did you pay someone to write that article?” she asked.

Annette snorted. “Look at the date. Of course not.” Sure enough, the date was several months prior. Annette pushed her glasses up with a single finger and a conspirator’s smile. “But it might have given me the idea.”

Lena sighed. “You are terrifying, you know that, right?”

“I’ve heard.” Annette said with a grin. “But really, how is it going?”

“It’s scary,” Lena sighed. “I could see a world where… if things had gone a little differently, if I didn’t know what I know… I might really have listened to her on this. I don’t know how you did it, but she’d actually making a faint amount of sense.”

“Oh, I just had my aunt give her the latest strategy that failed on me,” Annette said with a wave of the hands. “Before she realized that an open courtship would definitely backfire on me – I’ve been so close to engagement so many times that there’s hardly anyone left of the right social status to throw at me.”

“How did you get out of them all?” Lena asked. “I’ve never quite understood it.”

“It’s a secret,” Annette said with a wink. “You wouldn’t want to do it anyway.”

Lena decided to trust her on that. “So, when do I give in?” she asked.

“Next week,” Annette said. “You just keep hold of that magazine and then say that you’ll start looking for people, but you’re not going to promise you’ll get married yet. You want to take it slow, but then, by the time the war is over, you’ll be engaged already!”

“And then?” Lena drawled.

“And then you come out with me to choose some beautiful dresses.” Annette grinned. “Don’t worry. I know an excellent seamstress.”

Lena sighed. It was going to be a very long few months.

Chapter Text

Zack’s first report came in before she was meant to give in to her mother. Lena hid it in the latest wedding magazine her mother gave her and spirited it up to her room, while her mother looked on with a small, satisfied smile.

Sighing heavily, Lena glanced at the time. 6:55 pm. Almost 7. She ought to resonate with Shiden and Brea before she got into this report, just to get it out of the way. From what she had managed to glimpse, Zack had finally put some hard number guesses down. He was such a benefit to them, even though Lena hardly ever saw him. They mostly communicated in letters so far, so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.

Well, given that she needed people to get the wrong idea soon, maybe she should suggest meeting in person. He’d already agreed to be the “successful suitor” if they ended up having to go that far – Stewart was reasonable, but he had pointed out that, if things went the wrong way, Lena could actually end up married to him, and Lena was a nice girl, but he would feel bad marrying a girl barely a third his age. Lena had agreed fervently, and Annette had given in, especially when Zack chimed in that he was happy to start a fight for Lena’s honor. Lena wasn’t sure how much she believed him. He wasn’t exactly scrawny, but he didn’t have a soldier’s physique either.

Focus. Resonate, then read the report, then make plans.

Lena pulled out her para-RAID and slung it around her neck, tapping it to contact Shiden.

The first thing she heard was heavy breathing. Her breath caught in horror. Then, a moan, long, drawn out, and shaking. It was a woman’s voice that spoke, just as Lena was about to call out for a damage report, terrified that the Legion had somehow made a sneak attack.

Shiden, yes, yes! Oh, oh, don’t stop, m-m-!

That was… Brea’s voice? She sounded half like she was in pain but…

It wasn’t until Shiden’s return purr that it clicked what Lena had accidentally resonated into.

Fuck, you’re so hot…come on, baby, go ahead… and Lena could hear the captain lick her lips as if Shiden had leaned in over her shoulder and was breathing into her ear.

It was a good thing the para-RAID wasn’t set to share physical sensations, but Shiden’s low, confident rumble was enough to set Lena’s skull boiling like a tea kettle. There was a faint noise like when she washed her hands, wet and slick skin rubbing, squishing, slicking across itself, with hardly any friction…

Ah! Ah! Oh, god, yes! Brea’s mewls betrayed exactly how good that friction was, and Lena felt her entire body go red with heat. There – There! Yes! Brea’s voice pitched out, then shuddered and gave way to heaving gasps as the schlick, schlick, schlick sound slowed.

Lena, confused and more than a little beside herself, held her breath.

Shiden laughed under her breath. Well, your Majesty? You just gonna listen?

Shiden’s direct question abruptly broke the spell, and Lena nearly jumped from her bed and into attention. S-s-s-sorry! I was just calling for nightly updates!

Shiden gave a mighty oof as she flopped down, supposedly beside Brea. Oh yeah? You were a bit early there, your majesty… The way Shiden drew out the word tonight – your maaaaah-jesty…- made Lena shudder. I seem to remember our updates are at 7. Sweetheart, what time is it?

Mm, 6:59. Brea’s voice was a little sleepy, a little amused, and muffled against what Lena could only imagine was Shiden’s shoulder or bicep.

I-! Lena tried to spit out her defense, that it was only 1 minute early, but failed.

Oh well. That’s our big secret busted, Brea said, casually.

Which big secret? Lena asked, still trying to get the sound of Brea’s moans out of her mind. She’d heard people moan before, but not like that. It was always faked moans, like what Annette had done in the experimental building, or mocking moans, like the ones older men had chased her with since she was thirteen. Not… not like they actually were enjoying themselves. Not like that.

There was a mighty pause, and then both Brea and Shiden laughed. Well, you did promise not to judge, Shiden said, but I gotta admit, I thought you’d be a bit more scandalized.

I’m sorry, I’m missing something. Lena mumbled, and rolled out of bed, bending at the waist to put her head close to the floor and slapping her face to get the last vestiges of total shock out of her system. She had to get her poise back – this just wasn’t acceptable. Does the rest of the unit not know you two are… involved?

Oh no, Shiden said, still giggling a little, they know. Still – not a single question about how you just caught your captain – a woman – with your vice captain – another woman?

Lena blinked, and all her work into getting the blood out of her face failed all at once. But she managed to take a breath and say with remarkable steadieness …I suppose I’d have questions if it was my place to ask. So this is what Shiden had meant by niche tastes and Alba don’t like this sort of thing. Shiden was right about that, of course – the relationship would have been punishable by fines and even jail in the capital… But like I said before. You’re the ones fighting. Who am I to define who you love?

Well, I don’t know about love, Brea said, but I am having a wonderful time.

As am I, Shiden said, and Lena heard the unmistakeable sound of a kiss on the cheek. Now you’d better scoot so I can update the Major.

Talk to you later, Majesty! Brea said jauntily, Give me a resonate if you have any questions about lesbian sex! Lena heard her leave the room.

Shiden sat on the bed again, which creaked mightily. If you’d believe it, I didn’t do that on purpose. You’re usually way more punctual.

Sorry, Lena said. And sorry for listening. I was just… shocked.

Shiden snorted. Yes. Shocked. I’m sure. Well, let’s get on with it. Anything to go over tonight?

Lena sighed. Yeah. Our numbers guy sent a report with numbers estimates. I’d hoped you’d go over it with me.

Numbers? You mean… Shiden sighed. I can’t promise I’ll be much help. Let me call Brea back in, actually. She got a lot more school than I did.

When Brea returned, she acted as if nothing had ever happened, bright and steady as always. Lena couldn’t help but see her through Shiden’s eyes for a moment as she scrutinized Zack’s analysis, suggested ways to improve the guesses, and criticized assumptions Lena had completely taken for granted.

You’ve assumed that Colorata built the houses they lived in, or rather, that they were allowed to build their own dwellings for a lot of these numbers, she said after the first few estimates. The problem is that laws were passed in many districts which prevented Colorata style houses from even being built. You had to build in the style of the area, most of the time. The only houses which were built in any other style were built upwards of fifty years ago, and a lot of the modern houses which were built with Colorata styles were actually new builds by Alba who were just appropriating the bits of whatever Colorata style they liked. For instance, there was a big Orienta craze about ten years before the wars, and everyone was building houses with a courtyard and a hip-and-gable roof.

Lena had to close her jaw consciously. How did Brea know all this? She was only eighteen, and had spent much of her life in the 86^th sector! Can you think of a way to fix the assumption, or a better indicator?

Brea was silent for a moment, then, The calculations based on high school classes are pretty good. You could also try looking up Colorata style places of worship, and then extrapolating based on number of seats and number of services. Alba only build their churches one way. Colorata didn’t.

Lena blinked. They had thought of the marriage records, but not the actual places of worship. How many Colorata are atheist? She asked. I was taught that it was most of them.

Brea barked a laugh. News to me. Most of the Veridia are monotheistic and practically militant about it. My mother and father went to church every Sunday and I did too, until the war.

Lena tilted her head. Theo was a Veridia Jade.  Had Brea been to Church with him before the war? All right. We’ll look into places of worship and their numbers and try some calculations on that.

And Major – Brea’s voice was quiet. Thank you for trying. And thank the person who wrote this report for me. Even though he had some faulty assumptions, he clearly gave it some thought and tried really hard. My father was an architect, so I just happen to know about the codes because he was furious when the permit to build his dream house was denied. She laughed a little.  I told him that I’d become an architect and build it for him someday.

Lena was silent. She couldn’t promise that Brea would become an architect.

Maybe you still have time, Shiden said. We aren’t on a death sentence anymore.

Yeah, Brea said. Maybe. It would be nice, to be an Architect. Build things.

Yeah, Lena agreed. What else could she do? I think so too.

Chapter Text

“I’m not going to do a strapless dress, Annette,” Lena sighed. “And could we not do red? It’s way too much.”

Annette was fussing around with the fabrics surrounding them in the dressmaker’s shop, where a variety of gown styles and the fabrics they could be made in lined the walls. “Aw, really? But hardly anyone does red – the dye is so hard to get!”

“All the more reason I don’t want to do it,” Lena grumbled, “I’d rather just do black.”

“You do black every year,” Annette waved. “We’re trying make waves this time, remember!”

“Then any color will do,” Lena sighed heavily, glancing at the seamstress, who wore her hair in a swept up bun and was covering her mouth with two fingers to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry about her. What’s in fashion this year?”

“Well, if you’re looking to make a splash, the red would be a good choice, but after that, I’d say a sapphire blue – or possibly a light amethyst would look good on you. What sort of message are you trying to send?”

“That most of them are dense idiots and I don’t want to be at the function at all,” Lena said dourly.

The seamstress giggled again, much to Lena’s surprise. “They are exhausting, aren’t they? Believe it or not, I see a lot of girls come through with the same complaint.”

“Including me,” Annette said, raising her hand. “Lena, this is Miriam, a friend of mine from the ladies club. Miriam, this is my friend Lena, from school and work.”

Miriam held out a hand, still smiling gently. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Lena. You drive Annette quite crazy.”

“Fink,” Annette muttered.

“Did Annette tell you why we’re here?” Lena asked, side-eyeing Annette. How much had she told the seamstress? She had sung Miriam’s praises since they hatched this plan, but as Lena had only ever gone to her mother’s tailor, she had no idea what to expect.

“That you need to show up to three different balls looking like you are looking for a husband, but at the third you’re going to turn everyone down so hard that no one will bring up marriage for at least another few years,” Miriam said, and winked. “Not a bad plan. Social suicide is how I got out of the whole business, too.”

“She’s actually from a noble descended family too,” Annette said, “But took up tailoring so her family would basically give up on her.”

“Father handed me the seed money to get the place going and hasn’t seen me since,” Miriam added primly. “He called it my dowry and said he hoped I came crawling back.”

“That’s terrible,” Lena said flatly.

“Oh, it was better than the alternative,” Miriam said. “Now, if you want to send some subtle messages, but absolutely stun a crowd of slavering men, might I suggest an Orange dress with this lace overlay? Similar to this pattern…” She held up a sleeveless dress which moved in one smooth line from the shoulders down to the knees, and then flared out, pointing to the waist. “We could either put black lace as a waist band or we could overlay something that came down from the neckline.” Lena tilted her head. Orang wasn’t so bad a color, at least it didn’t send the same message as red, but…

“Why Orange and Black?” she asked.

Miriam smiled peacefully. “Because then you can wear daylilies as your corsage, or in a crown. And Orange Lilies in flower language mean disgust, disdain, pride, and hatred.”

Lena blinked, looked at Annette – who was grinning – and then back to Miriam. “There’s… there’s a flower language?”

“Oh yes,” Miriam said, lighting up. “It’s very popular with the women of the city, when they want to say things they can’t in polite company, like sending messages to a secret lover.”

Lena blinked, mind immediately flying to Shiden and Brea. “Like, women lovers?”

Miriam almost jumped, like Lena had zapped her with a live wire, and then looked to the side. “Well, ah, so I… so I hear, anyway.”

“I’m shocked you picked up on that so quick,” Annette said, going to Miriam and putting a hand on her shoulder as if to say, it’s all right. She’s safe. “Normally I would have had to spell it out for you.”

Lena blushed clear to her ears as Miriam looked up at her in a mix of terror and hope. “Oh,” she said, realizing all at once that she really had jumped to that conclusion rather quickly, and the explanation of why was just… so embarrassing. “I uh… some people in my unit recently… explained that… that is…”

“Oh, they’re card rubbers?” Miriam asked. Lena just stared at her.

“Doughnut bumpers.” Annette added, completely unhelpfully.

Lena stared some more, then finally, sputtered, “No, they’re lovers.”

Miriam and Annette looked at each other and burst into giggles.

“Wait, but…” Lena stared at Annette slackjawed for a moment, looking at Annette’s hand still on the seamstress’ shoulder. “Are you…?”

“Oh no,” Annette said, shaking her head. “Unfortunately for me, I do prefer men, but I can confirm that women are way better lovers.”

“You really ought to just give up on them,” Miriam said primly. “They’re all bores.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Annette said, running her hand through her hair and then pushing up her glasses. “Maybe when I’m old and wrinkly. So, what do you say about the dress, Lena? Orange and black for disdain and disgust? Maybe a lily crown? You’ll definitely get the boys going and give the lesbians of the city a good laugh.”

“Is Lesbians what it’s called when a woman loves a woman?”

“Good grief, I’ve been remiss in my bad influence duties,” Annette sighed. “Yes. And Gay is when two men are lovers.”

“Annette doesn’t like to admit it but she is bi,” Miriam added, sweeping the trumpet hem dress away. “As in she likes both.”

“I’ll take both,” Annette corrected. “I’m mostly straight. Just not completely.”

“That’s called being bi, my dear,” Miriam sing-songed from the other room. “All right, that’s the first dress sorted – how about the second?”

“Is there a flower for being… angry?” Lena ventured, eyeing Annette curiously. How had she never known that her friend was… like that? Had she simply been that naiive? What did it mean for them? Anything? No, if Annette… thought of her like that, she would have certainly said something by now. It wasn’t like someone wanted to be with every person they saw, regardless of where their attractions lay.

“Oh there certainly is,” Miriam said. “And the color would look smashing on you. Deep purples. Annette, you said there are three balls, are we ramping up as we go?”

“Seems like the best plan,” Annette said. “So, a little more dramatic, but not the most.”

“Perfect. One moment.” Miriam bustled off with a grin on her face.

“So, it was Shiden and Brea, yeah?” Annette asked.

Lena jumped, still a little lost in her thoughts from the revelation that Annette was that far ahead in experience. “Um, yeah. How did you…?”

“Come on Lena, she asked what color panties you were wearing on your first meeting. And she practically admitted it in those recordings you took while I was getting information about the facility that night. You just didn’t get it…” she frowned. “So why did you pick up on it so fast this time?”

Lena stumbled over her words a little. “I, uh… well, we were resonating and I was a little early, but only by a minute and…”

Annette blinked, then threw back her head and laughed. “Wow. The nerve. So you caught them in the act, then?”

“But how did you know it was Brea?” Lena asked.

“Just a good guess there,” Annette said, shrugging. “Shiden is always talking about her.”

“I always thought it was because she was second-in-command.”

“Probably purposeful,” Annette said with a grin. “Imagine all the meetings they can get away with.”

“No thank you,” Lena said, as Miriam came back in the room carrying a gown which swept out like an ‘A’ from the waist, the shoulders drooping down where her arms would be.

“This, but in a soft lilac color,” Miriam said, “Maybe a few flowers stitched into the satin. Wear it with petunias in your hair. Petunias mean resentment and hatred – an angry I’ll never forget what you’ve done.”

Lena took a deep breath. “It’s so… daring,” she said, looking at how deep the neckline plunged.

“Remember, you’ll have Zack and Stewart running interference,” Annette said. “But you need to put as much on display as you can stand. You have to look incredible.”

“And with the right jewelry, they’ll be more reminded of your money than your body,” Miriam added. “Most men are more into the rich girls for the money anyway.”

“Yes,” Lena let out her breath. “Ok. That is good. But do you have something to cover my shoulders? Anything?”

Miriam smiled. “How about a capelet? It will be sheer but it will give you a little coverage.” She reached behind her counter, rummaged for a moment, and came out with a piece of cloth she threw over her own shoulder to display a short cape which came down to her forearms.

Annette nodded. “That’s fair. Leave best for last.”

“What?” Lena asked, looking over at her, and Annette winked.

“Gotta go all out for the main event, right? The more distraction, the better.”

“Oh! So a proper ballgown?” Miriam squeaked and clapped. “What do we want to say with this one?”

What did she want to say? Lena’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes unfocused a little. “I miss you. I’m sorry. I wish I could have gone with you. I’m still alive.”

Miriam fell quiet. It was only then that Lena realized she had let slip the words she had kept so close to her heart for almost a year now. She swallowed. “Are… there flowers for that?’

“Oh sweetheart,” Miriam said, and there were tears in her eyes. “Of course there are. Astilbe. 19 roses. Cyclamen. They’re mostly pink. We should put them with ivy to symbolize loyalty and steadfastness, on a white dress to symbolize purity.”

“I’m anything but pure,” Lena said softly. “It should be black.”

“I guess the ladies would be scandalized at white,” Miriam sighed.

"Please," Lena said softly, and it came out more broken than she meant it. "Could it be black? With all the flowers..."

“Well, it would still be very dramatic... and wouldn't compete with your potential wedding dress.” Miriam mused, glancing at Annette.

“I think that’s a good compromise,” Annette chimed in and clapped. “All right, Miriam, now that we know what we’re doing, let’s get to measuring! Oh, and can you give us the name of a friendly jeweler and florist?”

“I’ll be your florist,” Miriam said with a grin, “No worries there, but let me think about the jeweler. There’s not many friendly ones…”

Chapter Text

Lena received the official dress proposals only two days later. Or, rather, her mother received them. Unexpectedly though, her mother was not angry that Lena had gone to a different seamstress.

“Oh, Lena,” Her mother stood up from the sitting room table quickly, eyes twinkling in genuine excitement that Lena just didn’t know what to do with. “Lena, I’m sorry, I recognized the seamstress’ stamp on the envelope and I was so shocked that you’d actually gone to get new dress fittings that I simply couldn’t wait for you to get home.”

Lena took a deep breath. Were it not for the situation, she would have been cross, but this was all part of the plan. Margareta was supposed to see the dress plans before and ask if Lena was considering courting. Lena was stubborn, they all knew it, it would look suspicious if she simply gave in and told her mother that she was giving up on her ideals. It was so frustrating when Annette was this good at predicting her mother’s actions. “Annette highly recommended her,” she said. “It’s all right. I was hoping you would tell me if they’re… too immodest.”

She had half-hoped that her mother would immediately tell her that she needed to add sleeves to all three dresses, bring the necklines up, something, but Margareta shook her head earnestly. “They are beautiful dresses, Lena. I wouldn’t change a thing. But… you haven’t worn colors to a revolution festival ball in years… you haven’t even gone to more than one. Does… that mean you’re thinking about what I said?”

Lena swallowed. If only she could just get it all over with! If this charade were for anything less than the safety of every 86 fighting and possibly every person behind the Gran Mur, she would have given it up long ago. But sometimes, as Annette said, the biggest fights didn’t take place on a battlefield. “I… I’ve been considering it.” She looked to the side.

Margareta was silent for a moment, and Lena couldn’t see her face, but a touch on her cheek shocked her into turning to look at her mothers face, and her heart nearly stopped.

Margareta Mileze was smiling; gentle and peaceful, with tears in her eyes. “Sweet heart,” she said, “If you’re worried that I will say ‘I told you so’ or deride you changing your mind, please, rest assured that I have no such intention.”

“What?” Lena whispered, against her better judgement. But for her mother to volunteer that she would not make cutting remarks or passive aggressive overtures of martyrdom if Lena relented… it was totally unable to register.

“You are taking responsibility for your place in society,” Margareta continued, using two fingers to tilt Lena’s chin up and place a kiss on her forehead. Lena closed her eyes, tried to ignore the gulf between her mother’s idea of taking responsibility and her own. “What mother could ask for anything more? I would be nothing but proud and supportive if you decided to start looking for a husband.”

“But…” Lena sputtered. “What if you don’t like him?”

Another strange, peaceful smile. “I can almost guarantee I won’t, Lena,” her mother said. “Your tastes and mine are very different. But Lena, marriage is a woman’s protection in this life.” Margareta’s smile was a little sad as she laid a hand on either of Lena’s cheeks, then swept Lena’s hair back in a way she hadn’t since Lena was a child, and for a moment clarity burst on Lena’s skull that her mother truly believed this; truly believed that the only way that Lena would be safe was through marriage.

Worse, Lena knew her mother was right, at least, from her own perspective. Her father had been the heart of the Mileze name. Margareta had come from a good family, but not that good of a family. She would have had to fight for her father, and fighting to her did not mean commanding troops at the front lines: it meant cinching her waist just a little tighter, smiling at the right people, and plucking the strings of society so that her father noticed – and then fell for – her. And then it meant conceiving and keeping a child, which had been surprisingly difficult. Unexpectedly, Lena’s heart trembled in horror at the deception she was about to commit as her mother kissed her forehead. “I just want to die knowing that you are safe, my dove.”

Lena swallowed a stone. Please, let this be worth it, she thought to herself. Who was she praying to? No gods would bother with her blood-stained hands. “I… I was thinking of doing open courting. L-like in the magazine you gave me a few weeks ago.”

Her mother’s gave a small gasp and then clasped her into a crushing hug. “Truly, Lena? Open courting would suit you best, I thought the same as well!” and then, to Lena’s surprise and mild horror, her normally reticent mother began to speak rapidly, like a gossiping schoolgirl. “All of the people I would set up interviews with would not be to your liking – most of them you’ve already refused anyway. Open courting would take a lot more time, but it would let you look for someone you would be satisfied spending time with, and we can put in certain rules to ensure that you marry at least well enough to know what to do with the estate while you care for the family!”

“You… you won’t make me marry another noble?” Lena asked hesitantly.

“It’s going to be a different world, after the war, Lena,” Margareta said, practically sparkling with joy. “You will have enough capital to keep you comfortable from your father and me. But you will need a businessman who can put that capital to good use: good businessmen can be found anywhere so that’s all I ask: he can be anyone, but he must have a business acumen and a plan for me to approve.”

That was new. This had to be Annette’s influence again. Lena couldn’t help but imagine how overjoyed she would have been if she’d actually been interested in finding a man she could love. Simply having a business acumen was easily fakeable – of course, Margareta was implying that the man she chose needed to have at least some money of his own, but as the only daughter of the Mileze family, it had never really occurred to her that Margareta might not require her to marry someone of the same social standing. “You always suggested other nobles before, so I thought…” Lena tried not to be accusatory, but the words slipped out in her surprise.

“Of course. I have to try the best matches first,” Margareta said. “After all, I might have gotten lucky and you agreed to them. But you’ve known most of them since a young age, and you never liked them.” She spread her hands and sighed. “I had to try. But now, you can look for yourself. You can even take all the time you need – I only ask that you make a decision at least one month before the war ends. Can you do that?”

Shaking – this was far more that she had ever imagined - Lena nodded.

“Of course, if you find someone you love before then, please don’t delay for my sake,” Margareta said with a giggle.

“Sure,” Lena choked out, the guilt settling around her throat like a locket of lead. She’d never seen her mother so openly happy, so openly loving, never felt like they actually understood each other. “I… thank you, mother.”

Margareta blinked a few times, and it took a moment for Lena to realize that her mother was fending off tears. “Of course, my dearest Vladilena.” She took Lena’s hands in hers, squeezing them once. “I’m so proud of you, my dear. Your experience leading battles will absolutely serve you in the household, I’m sure of it. And you’ll be such a beautiful bride.”

I’ll never get there, though, Lena thought sorrowfully to herself. The Legion will come, and there won’t be time for marriage. There won’t be time for …anything. But she forced herself to smile. The only way she would have a prayer of surviving the coming legion was to make enough of a scene that Annette could get the para-RAID system hacked correctly. And making that scene required tricking her mother.

She just… hadn’t expected it to also mean being friends with her mother.

Chapter Text

Lena spent the afternoon in the drawing room with her mother, pouring over family jewels to see if anything matched the dresses before setting out to buy anything, and only excused herself to her room when it was nearly time for her nightly update from Shiden.

Shiden was in good spirits after the latest shipment had come in, where Lena snuck in a bag of synthetic chocolates and hard candies. “Anything else to report?” Lena asked once they had gone over the inventory and scouting reports.

“No, but you sound like you’re distracted tonight, your majesty,” Shiden said. “What’s up?”

Lena paused, wondering if she should burden Shiden with her afternoon’s complaints. Was it even something Shiden wanted to hear about? When you boiled it down, she was complaining about having to attend beautiful balls in lovely, expensive dresses and jewels. How could she possibly complain about that to Shiden, a soldier in the field to whom hard candies were a luxury? “Just some things about the plan,” she said softly. “It’s all very privileged complaints. Dress fittings. Jewelry. My mother.”

Shiden was quiet for a moment. “Mothers are a pretty universal complaint, Lena. I’d like to hear about the dresses, too. I told you I used to dance with my mom? I like pretty things.”

Lena swallowed. “Are you sure? I’d hate to complain to you about-“

“Tell you what,” Shiden interrupted. “You start talking, and if you start sounding like a soft-handed brat, I’ll let you know. Deal?”

Lena couldn’t help but let out a single, half-hearted laugh. “Ok. Well, the dresses are Orange and black, lilac, and cream.”

“Cream? Surprised they let you wear any shade of white. Aren’t they worried about competing with your wedding dress?”

“Well, there’s a bunch of flowers on it,” Lena said. “Mostly pink, I think.”

“Flowers, huh?” Shiden asked, her voice a little thoughtful. “What kind?”

“Ah…” Lena got up, shuffled to her desk. “The Orange one is going to go with Tiger Lilies. The purple with Petunias. And the white with… one moment, let me find my notes.”

“Disdain and rage,” Shiden said, “If I remember right, anyway. Nice choices.”

Lena blinked. She’d entirely forgotten about the flower meanings, but Shiden had picked it up in only half of a moment. “That’s… that’s right,” she said in surprise. “And the cream dress will have Cyclamen, Astilbe, and pink roses… there was something about a specific number of them, but it’s not in the notes…”

“I’d guess 19 or 20.” Shiden said softly. “Damn. You found a really great seamstress, and you could trust her enough to tell her all that?”

“Tell her what?” Lena asked, curiously. “How do you know what I told her?”

Shiden’s voice was so gentle that Lena felt like she was being hugged. “Cyclamen means sorrow over abandonment. Astilbe means loyalty and steadfastness. 19 pink roses means I will wait for you forever, my love and 20 means I am sincere and true to you. You told her about Spearhead.”

Lena’s hand lost her grip on the pages and they fluttered to the floor. “Not… not exactly,” she stammered out, and bent to pick them up, going to the window and opening it to let the cool night air bathe her flushed face. “Just… what I wanted to say to them. Not who they were.”

“More than you’ve ever told me,” Shiden said, and for just a moment, Lena thought she sounded sad about that. “I just had to guess based on what I’ve heard.”

“I hate talking about them,” Lena said, looking down at the papers in her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Shiden said. “I’d hate talking about it too, if I were you. But you’re a different person now, your Majesty. You’ve kept us alive for a year, now. You’re reaching out to other squadrons. You’re working on getting a communication system up for all of us. And you’re doing it in a system that wants nothing more to exterminate us. That’s… that’s not nothing. Maybe you couldn’t be enough for them, but you’re more than enough for me – us.”

What was there to say to that? Lena couldn’t find words through the thick feeling that Shiden had said something in that speech she missed. But before she could manage to get anything out, Shiden continued.

“But you were saying about your mother? Was she mean about the whole open courting thing?”

Lena let out the breath she’d been holding into a sigh. “No… she was… nice. She was happy. I haven’t seen her smile like that since before dad died.” Lena looked at her hands. “She said she was proud of me. Said I was taking responsibility. It was… I wish she was saying those things about me, and not something I’m not actually doing for myself. And I hate tricking her like this.”

Shiden sat silent on the line for a moment. “Yeah. I once kissed a boy to get my dad to quit asking me to go to the doctor. We got caught on purpose, and my dad didn’t even punish me for skipping school. He took me out for ice cream and bought me condoms.” Shiden sighed heavily. “I didn’t have to keep up the charade very long. He was drafted still thinking I had been cured and would marry a nice boy and settle down. It’s awful to think he was so happy thinking that I was something I never was. That his last thoughts weren’t of me but of that fake version of me.”

Lena swallowed. “Yes. That. Exactly that,” she said. “If the Legion break into the city… we’re not prepared, Shiden. And my mother would die, so satisfied and happy, but it would all be a lie.”

“Well, their whole war is a lie,” Shiden said. “What’s one more? I don’t know. Mom always said that the reason Dad was angry and afraid was that he knew how bad I’d have it, loving women. He knew it would mean a terrible life for me if I didn’t like boys. But really, loving girls definitely hasn’t been the biggest obstacle in my life. He was worried about the girls, and not about the fact that we were colorata.”

“So he would have been horrified and heartbroken for you no matter what.” Lena said. “And there’s no way I’ll ever be married,” Lena agreed softly. “The legion will attack before I could walk down an aisle. “

“She’s worried about the marriage, and not the Legion,” Shiden said. “And once that happens, well, she’ll be horrified no matter what.”

“Yeah,” Lena said softly. “I just… I wish there was another way to make the scene we need to.”

“With the way the capital works?” Shiden said, and chuckled. “Not really. It’s a brilliant plan. I wish I could see pictures of the dresses though. Think you could send some along?”

Lena half-smiled. “Well, if there’s newspaper coverage, I’ll send you a clipping.”

“Even better!” Shiden laughed.

Chapter Text

“Stand still now,” Miriam mumbled through a mouth full of pins. It made Lena nervous to watch the seamstress with that much sharp metal in her mouth, but the woman seems perfectly at ease as she tugged and pinned the orange satin of the dress for the first night. “Perfect. And breathe in. You’re not likely to gain or lose weight in the next few weeks, right?”

“I’ll make sure she loses, if anything.” Annette said, arms crossed with a cat’s satisfied smile. Lena looked over at her in half horror, and Annette winked. “No sweets for a while. I’ve gotta look good too, you know.”

“I’m already wearing these dresses, and I now I can’t have sweets, either?” Lena whined, and Miriam laughed.

“I didn’t pin too tight.” She knelt with a ruler in her hand. “How tall will your shoes be?”

“She can’t walk in anything higher than one-inch heels, so probably that,” Annette said, waving a hand. “Oh, and you should tell her your idea, Miriam.”

“What idea?” Lena said.

“It’s silly,” Miriam said, and Lena thought she caught a blush as the seamstress moved around the hem. “I was just thinking… Annette told me what you’re doing for the people out past the grand Mur.”

Lena blinked, glanced at Annette, and then back down to Miriam, unsure what to comment on first. That Annette had said something, or that Miriam actually believed there were people out there. But she didn’t have enough time to formulate a response. “You need a way to weed people out a little easier. So you know if you can trust them. I know they don’t take you seriously but it would still be useful…”

“Good grief just get to the good part,” Annette said with a faint roll of the eyes.

“It’s no good without the story!” Miriam shot back. “Anyway, all you do is ask them ‘what temperature the Juggernaut processors run at?’ If they tell you two hundred degrees you know they aren’t your person. But if they say 37 degrees…”

Lena blinked. “I’ll know they believe the drones aren’t unmanned.”

“Exactly!” Miriam said, and stood up. “Do you think it’ll be useful?”

“I… I definitely think we can use it.” Lena said, “Though, I don’t know how many people would reach me that way… so far there’s only… four of us.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find there’s more, they’re just terrified of being discovered,” Miriam chirruped, and pulled a braided cord. In front of Lena, an array of mirrors was uncovered and Lena was met with her reflection, clothed in bright orange satin and black lace. She lost her breath. It was a masterfully tailored dress, and Miriam had made the sleeves just barely cap over the shoulders. The V was daring, but much less deep than she had feared.

“Its really beautiful,” Annette said finally. “What kind of flower crown were you thinking?”

“Tiger lilies clipped into a gold base,” Miriam said and rummaged in a shelf, drawing out a sketchbook with a pencil drawing of a simple gold circle with leaf-like embellishments and small clips. “I think your jewelry could be gold and citrine, gold and black, or simply gold. Do you have anything like that between the two of you?”

“Possibly,” Lena said. “Mother and I went through the jewelry last week and there was something like that.”

“Good,” Miriam said, and flipped the notebook closed. “Family jewelry is better than new-bought, you want to remind them that you’re old money to get the most reaction.”

Lena glanced at Annette in surprise, who hid a smile behind a hand. “She might understand the game better than me,” the scientist admitted.

“I’ve certainly seen it play out enough,” Miriam laughed. “Now, let’s get you out of this dress before you pop the pins, Lena!”

~^~

Chapter Text

“Lena,” Shiden said quietly in her ear after lunch and just before a performance review with the Generals of all handlers. “Do you have a moment to talk with us?”

Lena blinked at her paperwork, and then sat up. It was odd for Shiden to call her by her name, much less for her to call mid-day like this. Brisingamen usually did their chores at this time of day, because if the Legion hadn’t attacked by 1pm, they were unlikely to do so. She tapped the para-RAID around her neck. “Of course. What is it?”

Shiden’s voice was heavy. “It’s Adebayo. He’s sick. Real sick.”

Her heart dropped. “Any idea what it is?” she asked softly.

“No,” Shiden said. “But he’s been crying in pain for the last hour, and the usual painkillers aren’t doing anything.”

“What are his symptoms?” Lena asked seriously. She hadn’t told the squad, but she had made a plan for if and when this happened, and pulled out the notes she had taken after an extensive talk with the doctor Stewart had gotten the Morphine from. As long as she paid, he was willing to diagnose any patient. The trick would be diagnosing from a hundred miles away.

“His stomach hurts, he’s barfed twice, can’t keep anything but water down.” Shiden said. “But no one else is sick, and we all had the same food for dinner and breakfast.”

“Not food poisoning then,” Lena murmured, “And probably nothing contagious. What part of his stomach?”

“What do you mean?” Shiden asked, and Lena could hear the frown in the way her voice tightened.

“If you split his abdomen into the compass points while looking at him, which quadrant would his pain be in? Any particular side? Closer to the ribs or to the hips?”

“I… let me look,” Shiden said, and Lena heard the captain trudging up stairs, into the dusty wooden rooms where countless 86 had lain before them. She heard shaky breathing, and Brea’s voice.

“Shana went to ask the mechanic if he had any ideas.”

“Yeah,” Shiden said. “Hey Adebayo… which side?”

“Right side,” he immediately answered. “It’s like someone stuck a knife right under my ribs…”

Lena grimaced. “Does he have a fever?” she asked.

A pause. Then, “doesn’t seem that way. Maybe a little warm.”

“That’s just cause it hurts!” Adebayo moaned.

Lena ran down the symptom checklist the doctor had given her. “Ok. And you’ve thrown up. Any blood in that?”

“No,” Shiden answered.

“How about feces?” Lena asked. “Normal?”

“Huh?” Shiden asked. “What’s that?”

“His… uh… poop,” Lena said hesitatingly. “Is anything different about that?”

“Uh. Lemme ask. Hey, have you been shitting weird?”

There was a pause, and Adebayo laughed a little, breathless as he muttered, “I mean, it’s been a weird color for the last few days but that’s all. Figured our dinners were finally messing with us.”

Lena nodded. “Joint pains other than your stomach?”

“No,” Shiden replied.

“Check his eyes,” Lena said. “What color are they?”

“What?” Shiden asked. “They’re brown.”

“No, I mean the white part,” Lena clarified.

“Where are you getting these questions, majesty?” Shiden asked. “They’re… well, mostly white. Maybe a little… beige?”

“Kind of yellowish?” Brea said. “Maybe? Hard to tell.”

“It’s just a list of questions a doctor gave me to ask if this happens,” Lena said. She had realized early that the problem with actually keeping her unit alive was that they would then get sick, like normal people did, and had made contact with the black market doctor Stewart had recommended to ask for a way to practice medicine remotely.  “I don’t know if we’ll be able to help, but at least we’ll know what’s wrong. How about under his tongue?”

Shiden made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a hum. “Kinda white? Kinda beige? Mostly pink.”

“Any pain in the back?” Lena asked.

“Not really,” Shiden reported back.

Lena shot through the rest of the questions, anything from asking about hair loss to asking about bruises and skin itches. Finally, she let out a breath. “Ok, let me call the doctor.”

“Hurry?” Shiden asked softly. “He’s putting on a brave face but it’s hell watching him hurt like this.”

“I will,” Lena said, and hung up the Para-RAID, picking up the phone. Her review would have to wait.

The doctor’s response was quicker than she could have ever expected. She described the symptoms as if they she were the one experiencing them. “Ah. Gallbladder issue,” he said only half way through the list. “Your gallbladder is probably full of stones from eating such a rich diet. Eat as little fat as possible, stay away from greasy meats.”

Rich diet? The 86 didn’t have a rich diet. “But sir, I eat mainly military rations. I stay active!”

“That’s what I mean,” the doctor said. “Military rations are full of fats to boost energy. It takes a lot of energy, fighting in a war, Major Mileze. So it might not be good food, but it’s rich. That’s what the gallbladder is on about. Take some good painkillers, don’t eat anything but water and fatless crackers or vegetables for a few days, and the pain should at least subside to a manageable level.”

“When will it stop?” Lena asked.

“It varies patient to patient,” the doctor said. “some people change their diet and it never happens again. The stones disappear. Some people change their diet and end up living with low-grade pain until the organ is surgically removed. A lot of nobles just have the surgery, since I do a tummy lift while I’m there. Two surgeries, one recovery period, you know.”

“Of course,” Lena said. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

The doctor hummed. “I’ll send you your bill first thing. To your office?”

“Yes please,” Lena murmured, and tapped the Para-RAID again. “Shiden?”

“Yeah?”

“You sound a little buggy, could you switch over?”

They switched to the private channel, and Shiden whispered. “How bad?”

“It could be worse,” Lena said softly. “But it depends on a few things. First, he needs to be able to rest. How much of the painkillers has he had today?”

“Just one,” Shiden said, “it ran out two hours ago.”

Shiden had said Adebayo had been crying for three hours, so that meant that it might have been effective, just not for long. She did the calculations. They could push the painkillers to 1000 milligrams per 24 hour period for up to 3 days. She could get them more of the acetaminophen they had fairly easily, it was sold in every street store. Same with the ibuprofen. She checked some other notes she had made with the doctor. “All right, listen close. You’re going to take the two types of painkillers I sent you, and you’re going to space them out like I say, ok? He will take two green pills at fifteen hundred and twenty-one hundred. If he wakes up, he can take them at o-six-hundred too. He also takes two pink pills at Eighteen hundred and, if he wakes up, o-three-hundred. So you’re going to alternate them.”

“Ok…” Shiden said. “Why can’t he just take the green ones the whole time?”

“Because they will hurt him if he takes too many,” Lena said. She’d explained this when she sent the medicine, but Shiden never took them, so it was no wonder she didn’t remember. “The doctor said that one of his organs is not reacting well to the fat in your food. So, the oils and meats, and stuff.”

“Ah yeah, ok,” Shiden said, much to Lena’s surprise. “So he’s got the noble sickness.”

Lena blinked. “That’s what you call it?”

“In the slums, yeah,” Shiden said. “We eat way better in the military than we did in the slums, so… yeah.”

That certainly brought the doctor’s comments about nobles getting surgery rather than dealing with the illness into perspective. “That… sounds right. So he can’t eat anything with oil or fat in it.”

“Dancer crash diet,” Shiden said. “Got it. We should be able to do that.”

Again, Lena blinked. “Well, good,” she finally mustered up. “If he can’t sleep by tonight, make sure you give him just a little of that morphine. He needs to sleep and rest to have the best chance.”

“Sure, but… what happens after that?” Shiden asked. “Most nobles who get this … they get cut open and the thing hurting gets taken out. We… can’t do that.”

“The doctor said that if he eats with as little fat as possible, he might stop hurting.”

“Might?” Shiden asked.

Lena sighed. “Might. He said… he said different things happen person to person.”

There was a long pause while they both contemplated: what if he wasn’t one of the lucky ones? “All right,” Shiden sighed. “Well, at least this isn’t happening the week of your big debut, and it wasn’t on a Legion attack day. He probably won’t be fighting for a while, though.”

“I’ll make sure I send more painkillers in the next shipment.”

“Thanks, your majesty. For that, and for the doctor. I’m glad you were looking out for us.”

“Yeah,” Lena said, as her desk phone started to ring, alerting her of her tardiness to an important meeting. The general was going to be in fits. Oh well. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

“Lena,” her mother breathed as she stepped back from zipping her dress and smoothing her hair. “You look amazing.”

Lena fought the urge to pull the black lace shawl she had talked Annette into allowing her to have closer around her shoulders. She had not wanted to come to this ball, never had, but with Adebayo still ill and her squadron facing increasing legion strikes, it was especially difficult to remind herself what this was all for. She cast a baleful glance at Annette, who only smiled serenely. “They’ll come running every chance they get,” Annette added. “Just remember, you get to take your time, no matter what the boys try to tell you. You want to make a scene so they pay attention.”

“Yes,” her mother said, nodding, even though she had no idea what kind of meaning Annette’s words actually held. “You have the power here, Lena. You represent both old blood and old money. Make them earn you.”

“And now that you’re good, I’m going to get dressed,” Annette said, waving and exiting before Lena could protest.

Lena sighed. “How long until the car arrives?”

Her mother smiled, patting a chair beside her. “At least half of an hour. Sit, my dear, you will be standing quite a lot later, so you must conserve your energy.”

She considered getting her para-RAID to call Shiden and check in before she was unavailable for several hours, but Shiden had given her strict orders. I’ll take care of it, Highness. Adebayo is stable and we got your painkillers. He’s on that special diet you figured out and it’s helping a lot. The legion has been attacking more, yes, but only in small strike groups, and they’re doing it all over. It’s a known variable. We’ve got rotations down, you set them up. Go to the ball. Be beautiful. Send me a picture if you can – I still want to see that dress. But don’t worry about us. I promise to contact you if anything disastrous happens.

Lena had made Shiden swear to call her through the emergency system if the Legion attacked in any greater numbers than they had been seeing lately. She had a sinking feeling that the small, routine strikes they have been seeing were a sign of something, but it wasn’t clear what. They had never seen something like it before, according to the statistics on strike frequency and size Zack had analyzed for her. Was her guess on timing incorrect, and the Legion planned to strike much sooner than two years?

Surely not. The legion would want as much time to prepare as possible, and San Magnolia was still fully armed and prepared. The Legion would know when San Magnolia expected the war to be over, would know when they would let their guard down…

Was that why they were doing these small, frequent strikes? To judge the day or days that San Magnolia’s guard was weakest? Most handlers didn’t support their troops at all during Revolution Day celebrations – or they told their squads that they were on call, but then never answered distress signals. Zack had always maintained that the Legion ability to analyze statistics over the entirety of their force was probably unable to be matched by San Magnolia, who hid their casualties. So, if the Legion was recording how long it took to scramble forces, how many kills each of their units managed… they would be able to pinpoint Revolution Day by their relative rate of success…

“I wish I believed you were thinking of your future husband,” Margareta said softly, mournfully, and when Lena looked up her mother was standing in front of her, smiling sadly. “But you’re thinking of your unit, aren’t you?”

Lena didn’t bother denying it, only looking down. Her mother was right, after a fashion. Her fight was not in the ruins beyond the Gran Mur right now. Her fight was in the ball room for the first of the seasonal dances, to be fought with smiles and glances through her eyelashes.

“You look just like your father when you think of them,” Margareta said softly. “The 86, I mean. I wish he hadn’t given you that conscience.” She sighed. “It would have been so much easier for you.”

It took a moment for her to realize that her mother was actually saying them rather than those things but she decided not to comment on it, because there was something else to ask. “Did you love him?” she asked.

Margareta’s smile didn’t falter. “After a fashion,” she said. “He was passionate, but not…” she sighed. “He wanted to fix the world with his own hands, and I admired that. But he never realized that his hands weren’t enough. He had these desperate ideals, this martyr’s desire to help, but if he had truly wanted to change the world, he would have gone into politics and bought his way to his goals.” Margareta looked to the side. “I don’t think he ever even talked to them. Just wanted to save them and set them aside, and how would that be any better? There is no honor or relief in being saved just for someone’s ego.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the memory of Theo’s sharp rebuke about her own hypocrisy. You haven’t even learned our names! And hard on the heels was her uncle’s mournful admission. He didn’t believe that an Alba could die at the front. How did her mother understand these things as easily as breathing, but her father had not? How had her mother never taught her this?

“But mother, if you…”

“If I know all this, why do I let it continue?” Margareta asked, and sat beside her again, staring at her hands. “You weren’t there at the beginning, Lena. You were too young to remember. It was not a simple light switch of one day we were kind to the Colorata and then we suddenly were cruel. San Magnolia was never kind to its non-Alba citizens. The war was only an excuse to do what it had always wanted to do in the first place. And any time I had the power or ability to make a true difference, it was them or me. Them or my family.” She shook her head. “That’s how it’s always been set up, Lena. This country is not comprised solely of villains. Only people who saw the choice between only the Colorata being hurt or themselves being hurt and the Colorata still being hurt. Even if we went to join them at the front lines now, would that relieve their pain?”

Lena did not answer. The 86 had told her, over and over, that it would not.

“For what it’s worth, Lena, you seem to be better than him.” Margareta finally said into the silence. “You send items which would actually be useful to people cut off from civilization.” Her lip quirked. “Your father never once sent a sewing kit, or medications, or seeds. Just chocolates and books.”

Lena swallowed, wishing her mother had told her all of this long ago! “You knew?” she sputtered. “I-,”

“Of course I knew,” Margareta chuckled and then, to Lena’s horror, winked. “I’m your mother.”

Lena stared for half a moment in slack jawed shock, and Margareta threw back her head and laughed, and it was light and joyous and disregarded her make up and decorum and Lena didn’t think she’d ever seen her mother look so lovely in all her life.

Then there was a honk outside, and Margareta composed herself, standing to help Lena up. She squeezed her hands. “For all his faults, it is a parent’s duty to create someone better than themselves,” she said, and leaned into kiss Lena’s forehead. “I credit your father more than myself that you at least seem to understand where you can do the most good, my sweet dove. Have fun. Consider who will help you actually meet your goals, and who will help you raise children better than yourself as you dance tonight.”

“Yes mother,” Lena said softly, swallowing back a lump of tears in her throat. “Thank you.”

As she sat in the car with Annette though, it occurred to her that her mother wasn’t giving herself enough credit. Her father had taught her many things, explicitly and implicitly. That was true.

But her mother had gotten out of the way.

Chapter Text

~^~

Annette was a bastion of strength and Lena was more grateful to her than she had been in quite some time as her friend led her to the announcer and spoke to him on Lena’s behalf. After the conversation with her mother, Lena had nearly forgotten what she was about to do, what all of the people at the ball knew, and what their reactions would be. In the car, Annette had prepped her for all of the possible reactions.

Some would no doubt be passive aggressively congratulatory.

Some would immediately be sleeze-balls.

Some would be curious.

Some would be truly interested.

It was only her job to dance with as many people as possible, to speak to everyone she could.

“But how?” Lena whispered. “I am terrible at small talk.”

“You talk to your squadrons for at least an hour every night,” Annette pointed out. “You’re fine at small talk, you just hate these people.” She leaned back, smiling at Lena. “Try this. Pretend you’re in a story. Pretend you’re a princess from a fairy tale. Act like you’re her. Pretend you don’t know any of these people. Dissociate from you and just… be someone else.”

“You can do that?” Lena asked.

“All the time,” Annette said with a grin. “I’m the lead researcher for the capital. How do you think I deal with the pigs at the office?”

That explained how she dealt with sleeping with the researcher in the experimentation facility. Lena let out her breath. “I’ve never been good at forgetting who I am, but I’ll try.”

Annette shrugged. “That’s probably a good indicator that your mental health is better than mine, to be honest. Give it a shot though, and remember, you get to dance with Zack first, so at least you can get warmed up.”

And sure enough, as Lena descended the stairs, with all eyes uncomfortably on her in the hip hugging, bright orange dress, lilies brushing her forehead and gold heavy on her collarbones, Zack was at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a cleanly tailored, navy blue suit, the pin of the engineering school on his lapel.

Once she made it to the bottom step, he immediately stepped forward. “Vladilena Mileze,” he said, bowing, and the pool of people around him seemed to breathe in anticipation and shock. Of course, Lena thought wryly, she had never accepted a single dance at one of these balls, never even attended one of the pre-revolution festival dances, much less in a color other than black. Most people in these circles knew she was traditionally unavailable and uninterested. But her mother and Annette had both put out the word about her intent to entertain courting offers. They just couldn’t quite believe it. But Zack held out his hand. “Your dress is incredible. Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

She may have reacted a little too quickly, but he had scarcely finished his question when her black-satin gloved hand was in his. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

The crowd parted for them as if their path had been raised from the ocean, people openly staring in a mix of concern, surprised, and disbelief. Zack, to his credit, did not pay them even a moment of attention, his face fixed on hers as he led her out to the dance floor, where other couples were queuing up into a circle. Suddenly, it occurred to Lena that she wasn’t sure she remembered the traditional dances she had learned in grade school. Was this one where they switched partners a lot?

“Don’t worry,” Zack whispered as she turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a simple waltz. I paid them off.”

Lena could have hugged him, but that would have broken the illusion that they didn’t know each other, so instead she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

“The dress really is incredible,” He said as they waited for the music. His hand on her waist was steady. “Annette told me it was great, but I’m still impressed.” He gulped as she glanced at him a little curiously. “Don’t worry. You’re great but uh… I’m more into… uh…other… people.” And, she suspected without him even realizing his, his eyes went to where Annette stood in her ice-white dress, grinning at them.

Ah. Annette was more his type than she was. Lena relaxed again. “I’ll root for you, though she’s not exactly an easy catch,” she said instead.

“Oh,” Zack blushed as he realized that he’d been made. “Well, that’s fine. I know she’s way out of my league; I can’t even keep up with her research, much less the rest of her.”

In spite of herself, the situation, everything, Lena giggled, and the music began.

Zack was a good dancer, though she wasn’t adept at judging such things. But he kept her from stepping on him or her dress, and that was quite enough. Half way through the song, she had managed to remember the steps, and even how to navigate a simple spin. “We figured this would remind you how to dance,” Zack said. “You think you can manage after this?”

“Hopefully I remember the line dances,” Lena said. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, they come back to you quick,” Zack said. “All that time we spent in grade school.”

“Were we in the same class?” Lena asked.

“Same grade, but different classes,” Zack said. “I think I remember seeing you at school wide events.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.” Lena said. “But I don’t remember much about grade school.” How curious – she really didn’t. Her memories were fragmented until the night her father had taken her to the front, present but ghostly, as if they existed but were gently blotted out to highlight what was important.

“I wasn’t much to remember,” Zack said, shrugging. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m currently top of my class again – if all goes well, I’ll be valedictorian next year.”

Lena blinked. “So you’ll give the revolution festival speech?”

“That’s right,” Zack said with a grin. “And because we graduate earlier in the day, I’ll already have my degree in hand. So no matter what I say, they won’t be able to take it away.”

Excitement sparked in her chest. “That’s… we’ll have to start thinking about that. Have you been leaving the pamphlets around?”

“Yeah. So far no one has asked if it’s me.”

Lena nodded. “We’ve got a code phrase now,” she said, “So let’s start getting you some allies in the school so your speech doesn’t fall on deaf ears.”

Zack grinned and nodded, and the music started to taper off. “Well,” he said, “Good luck. I think you’ve got a line waiting for you, now.”

“That was the idea…” Lena replied, following Zack’s glance to the pack of slightly anxious looking men off to the side.

“Should I deliver you to Annette instead?” he asked.

That was sweet of him, but Lena knew what her job was. The final ball took place in the capital building, which was where the para-RAID servers were kept. So if she wanted her courting to be a big enough deal that Annette could convince the guards to go upstairs instead of protecting the servers, well… she’d better lay the groundwork now.

“No,” she said. “Might as well get this started.”

Chapter Text

The next dance and suitor were rough but made better when it turned out that her dance partner was a classmate of Zack’s, and was a reasonable gentleman. “He’s mentioned that he met you once or twice, but I didn’t realize you actually knew each other,” he said as he carefully whirled Lena around the floor.

“Oh, I don’t,” Lena said hurriedly. People must have seen how they were speaking to each other so easily. She needed to be sure that she didn’t ruin his reputation with hers, though maybe that was not as much of a worry now that she was accepting suitors? “But he knows a friend of mine.”

“I see. Well, thank you for dancing with us first,” he cracked a smile. “You won’t be marrying anyone still in school I bet, but it’s sure looks good for us.”

What would Annette say? What would the alternate Lena, the one who was having a wonderful time and truly open to courting, the Lena her mother thought she was, say? She smiled broadly. “Well, you never know!” she said, and curtseyed as the tight bodice on her dress would allow as the music stopped. “Thank you for the dance.”

The rest of the night was one younger man after another. Most of them were reasonably polite. There were none that stood out, anyway. But there was no one of prominence asking her to dance yet, no one coming out of the woodwork to put their name in the hat of suitors for her, even though she knew they were there. She and Annette had calculated that there would be at least eight to ten men, minimum, who would make a somewhat serious pass by the end of the series of balls. But for right now, it was as if the older, wealthier, more prominent men were all circling. Of course they were. They were the ones who knew her as Crazy Lena, or Bloody Reina, and they lurked in the shadows, watchful for her to turn, hopeful that she would turn on the young ones instead of them.

By the half-way point of the ball, she had not sat once, and he smile was starting to flag. Annette came to stand by her and her dance partner at the end of the dance, taking her arm and smiling dazzlingly at the men who also stood by, somewhat hopeful. “Sorry gentlemen. Ladies need to powder in pairs, you know.”

“Dance with me to make up for it later!” someone called.

Annette laughed. “Come find me and I’ll consider it.”

And then she was being pulled through the crowd, down the hall, and into a room where another pair of women leaned over a counter with an array of make up tools, muttering about how warm it was and how their hair had fallen flat from the curls they had put it in. There was a couch on the opposite side of the room from the mirror, and Lena suddenly realized how exhausted she was as she sank down.

“I just can’t believe I have to debut at the same time as her,” one of the women was saying, eyes closed as she powdered her face to make it as pale as she could. “It’s not fair!”

Annette glanced over, as the second woman, threw them a furtive glance, mumbling, “Yeah, ah…”

“And just my luck! Hardly anyone had danced with me this whole night, but I bet she hasn’t even sat down! Even all the old men are just watching her, even though she hasn’t danced with a single one of them. I bet she’s trying to cause a scene, you know?” Lena glanced over in curiosity, seeing the second woman beet red, and then glanced at Annette, who had covered her mouth to keep from giggling. "Ugh! It's so maddening! Stupid old money, stupid Mi-,”

“Frannie!” Her friend burst out, and leaned over to whisper something in her friend’s ear. With a gasp, Frannie whipped around to look at Lena, jaw dropped.

“We’ll be in here for a bit,” Annette said with a serene smile. “So you can go get some attention, sweetie.”

Lena observed with mild interest as Frannie turned at least four different colors under her make-up, only visible because she had failed to bring the powder down her neck. Lena almost felt a little bad for her, except she recognized the crest on the woman’s jewelry as being from a prominent family whose names just kept coming up in their investigation of the old experimental facility. Frannie swept her make up into her hang-bag and practically bolted out the door, her friend following with an apologetic glance, but no words.

As soon as the door closer, Annette’s composure burst, and she cackled. Lena couldn’t help but giggle along, and soon the two of them were breathlessly leaning on each other, whooping in laughter.

“Oh wow, you could practically see the lines of her powder when she saw you,” Annette gasped, looking up to keep her eye make up from running. “And her friend was trying to figure out what to say the whole time…”

“I guess we’re making an impression,” Lena said. “Though she was right about the old men.”

“Don’t worry,” Annette said. “They’re just skittish. They’re smarter, and can’t believe you’d be doing this. But the second ball, that’s when we’ll start working on them. You’ll have to talk to them yourself – at least a few of them – but then the rest will come running!”

They didn’t see Frannie again that night, which was just fine with Lena, all though it might have been funny. Annette reminded her of who she was meant to be at that moment, a delighted princess, searching for a love story.

It was surprising that when she got to the last handful of dances of the night, Lena realized that she had not had a terrible time. It was almost depressing, how society rewarded her for acting in the way they wanted her to. She had been in the spotlight for most of the night, which, while exhausting, meant that she was not subject to the mutterings and sly comments which usually followed her at work. It had mainly been the young gentlemen who danced with her, Zack’s age or only a little older, and they had been surprisingly affable, curious but not probing, asking her light questions about how she had come to be in the army. One of them had even asked if she could speak to her experience as a handler, as he was considering entering the service after school. She told him to ask her at a different time – after all, she wasn’t at work right then – and he had immediately apologized and changed the subject.

But, just as she really thought that the night would go off as a pleasant memory and a hand was offered for the second to last dance, she realized that it belonged to Cadet Robert Carthage. “Colonel Vladilena Milenze…” he said, sweeping back a lock of hair which had fallen into his eyes with the same hand that pounded his buddy’s back when he’d asked sure, the scientist is cute, but you gotta wonder – you think Loopy Lena is a screamer or a moaner? “Would you spare a dance for your co-worker?”

Lena fought her first instinct to refuse. Flatly. Quickly. And completely. But refusing would cause a scene, and she wasn’t meant to do that just yet. Was there any way to get out of it? She glanced around – none of her allies was near. Zack had gone home to study. Annette was in a corner, talking to a pair of men who were all smiles.

Robert didn’t move, even when she hadn’t given an answer and the music had started, his smile perfectly in place.  She had lost her composure and thus the power. How would Annette get it back? How would storybook Lena get it back?

He had called her Colonel. He knew that she was above him, and what was more, she suspected that was part of the fun for him.

Lena sighed and put her hand in his. “Very well,” she said.

His smile faltered slightly as he led her onto the floor, stepping close and sliding a hand around her waist. She kept her face still as the music began. “I was shocked when I heard the news about your courting,” Robert said. Thankfully they were back to a slow waltz, though she rather wished it was one of the partner switching dances. “You’re the resident ice queen. What will we do without you?”

“I don’t plan to marry until after the Legion shuts down.” She said, wondering if he would dare make the obvious retort.

“Weren’t you saying that the Legion had found a way to keep going?” Robert asked. “I distinctly remember you shouting hysterically about that less than a year ago. What changed your mind?”

So he had been listening. Well, it wasn’t like anyone cared what she said or did. They all believed the system was too entrenched to change. “I’ll give you an answer for an answer,” she said. “Why do you care what I think?”

Robert smiled again, and this time he seemed more genuinely delighted. “Because I don’t disbelieve you. It entirely possible that the Legion have us clocked and we’re all going to die as soon as we let down our guard. I just don’t think there’s shit we can do about it.”

Lena nearly choked on her tongue, but kept her face impassive. “In that case, I’ll be honest: I haven’t changed my mind at all.”

“So this is a ruse?” Robert asked with a chuckle. “But to what end? Are you looking for more money? Power?”

“Both,” Lena lied. “I want to position myself for a coup when the time comes.”

“So let me get this straight,” Robert replied. “You’re saying that when the legion attack, you want to have enough money and power to take over the government of San Magnolia… even though it’s going to be doomed, because if the Legion attack how you say they will, we’re all going to be out celebrating the end of the war?”

“Exactly,” Lena said.

“So you want to pull a coup… on a dead government.”

“I’m so glad you understand.”

“You’re insane.”

This time, Lena was ready with a smile of her own. “So I’ve heard.”

“Are you still trying to tell the citizens about the processors?” Robert asked after a moment of silence.

Lena nearly rolled her eyes. “You mean the truth? No. I’ve changed over to collecting information about San Magnolia’s war crimes so there’s a record of what we’ve done.”

“Oh?” Robert asked as if she’d mentioned getting tea with her parents. “And how is that going?”

“As you would expect,” Lena said. “There may not be a war crimes agreement anymore, but if there was, we would be drowning in citations.”

“Well, they only got what was coming to them.” Robert shrugged. “And if you’re right, we’ll get what’s coming to us, too. No point in fighting destiny.”

“Especially when your destiny is so very convenient,” Lena said, channeling as much of Annette’s serenity as she could. “Doesn’t require you to change or fix anything.”

“What can I say?” Robert said with a shrug. “I am a creature of comfort. You could be too, if you married me.”

Lena couldn’t stop herself from coughing. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t mind putting up with your insanity,” Robert said. “I’d leave you alone. You could have the money, and the Carthage name to do whatever you wanted. I don’t care too much about my name, and if you’re willing to do the work of fighting, I may not fight with you, but my name could.”

“You’re a cadet,” Lena said flatly. “I’m a colonel.”

“And you’re a woman. So we’re on even footing there, aren’t we?”

White hot rage shot through her – not only that he’d said it, but that according to their country, the way she’d been treated, he was right.

“Consider it,” Robert said. “If your goal in marriage is money and power, I’ve got that, and a healthy respect for your ideas, even if I think you’re a bleeding heart. I might be your best bet.”

If she had been telling the truth; if her goal had actually been to stage a coup of the government with the backing of a powerful husband, he would have had a point. “I’ll think about it,” Lena said.

“Then I look forward to seeing you at the next ball,” Robert said as the music stopped. He grinned, reaching out a bold hand to stroke the line from her jaw to her collar bone. Lena was too frozen in disgust to react fast enough, especially when he immediately withdrew his hand. “Next time, wear your hair up. Your neck is unbearably sexy, you know.”

Her entire body shuddered in a sort of revulsion, and she snap turned away to find Annette. That was quite enough dancing for the night.

Chapter Text

“The gossip rags are out,” Annette said as she pulled Lena into her lab, “They went with the romance angle.”

“Really?” Lena whispered in disbelief. She had been certain that they would tear her apart like they usually did this time of year. She almost always garnered a mention of ‘gloomy Mileze’ or ‘downer Vladilena.’ That they wouldn’t latch on to her change of heart with some kind of scathing remark was essentially unthinkable. She snatched a page from Annette, scanning it quickly.

Bloody Reina Cleans Up in Stunning Lace-Trimmed Mermaid Gown

 In a surprise move for everyone, Vladilena Milenze, also known as Bloody Reina to her co-workers, has declared that she will court openly this Revolution Festival season. Our normal readers will well-know Vladilena as a usually sour and sullen presence at the Festival balls – though this is the earliest in the season we have ever seen her step foot in a ball!

It went on to describe what open courting was, who she had danced with the night before, and the relative chances of each of the notable men she had danced with.

One line stood out in particular.

By far the most fascinating prospect was Cadet Robert Carthage, a name which, like Milenze, needs no introduction. Not everyone will know, but Vladilena and Robert are actually co-workers, and their dance was by far the most tense and thrilling of the evening! An anonymous source confirms that Robert has long noticed Vladilena as they worked together, and the possibility is very real that she has already expressed her interest in him! We will watch this one closely.

“Ugh. Of all the men to be written with,” Lena sneered, turning the page and squeaking when she found a half-page photo of herself, staring at Robert in shock, with his hand half-between them. The caption read Robert steals an intimate touch on the dance floor. Romance is not dead, after all!

“Yeah. They took the ‘romance with Carthage’ angle pretty hard,” Annette said, glancing over her shoulder. “Here. This one was a lot more balanced about it.”

Vladilena Milenze calls Open Season… on herself!

Much to everyone’s shock, the Milenze girl who has worn black for every revolutionary ball since she was able to attend, was dressed in ravishing, vibrant orange with Tiger Lilies this evening. According to some familiar with the situation, she had an enormous reconciliation with her mother, and saw the value in taking her place in society. One must wonder, what sort of thing foements this sort of change of heart. Did Vladilena fall in love, and this Open Courting is a ruse to marry a man beneath her station? Time will tell…

They spent nearly twenty minutes pouring over the various gossip magazines which had printed over night before Lena finally realized that something was odd about it all. “Why do they care?” she asked. “Surely they didn’t write these just because it was interesting? The Milenze name is certainly noble, but…”

“Oh, your mother most certainly paid at least a few of them,” Annette said, shaking her head with a smile. “I may have mentioned that it would be a pity if all of our hard work was undone by the gossips cutting off your courting chances when you had only just come around. And they certainly could have, by either ignoring you or by harping on your past stubbornness.”

“I didn’t know… you could pay them to write a good story,” Lena whispered. “But I guess the normal news stations get paid to spread the government’s propaganda, so…”

“Exactly,” Annette sighed, and stretched herself out. “Well, scoot. They’re not going to let us off of work just because we were out late last night.”

Chapter Text

The shipment was, amazingly, Shana thought, on time. 

Shiden and Brea had already done the overview with Lena: another half-bottle of Morphine, apparently bought as a half-finished and only officially good for another month. Shana snorted to herself. The white pigs would get rid of an entire half-bottle of morphine just because it was a month away from supposedly being old? Everyone knew those expiration dates were bunk. Well, the Alba’s idiocy was their gain, thanks to Lena and whoever she had hired to watch the markets. 

Shana took the tiny bottle, not even as tall as her middle finger, and walked to the small cold box, where the other bottle sat, also only half-depleted. They treated it like gold in the unit, especially after how well it had helped Adebayo through his illness. From crying, thrashing and vomiting pain to fast asleep… in less than five minutes. It was enough to make her sick, with how many people she had watched die having screamed themselves silent in pain. 

Shana paced her way through the kitchen, put the morphine away, turned, and blinked slowly. 

Shiden was standing in the common area with something in her hand. It looked like a newspaper clipping. It wasn’t quite the size of a full page, but maybe half the size of a standard sheet of paper, folded long ways. She couldn’t see what was on the paper, but she saw her face, and it was not something she’d ever seen before. 

Shiden was a woman of desires. A woman of fire, wild and certain. She was a woman who did not hide herself or her wants, her needs. Unlike Shana, Shiden had no fear of being found out. She had no reason nor desire to keep her thoughts close to her chest, much to Shana’s annoyance. She was blunt. She was awful. 

But the look on her face as she held that piece of newspaper; it was awe. Terror – but not of what was on the paper. No, it was terror of her self, of what she felt while looking at that paper, and Shana wondered: what creature or being, living or dead, could make Shiden – Shiden, who had been the only other surviving member of the unit before Brisingamen besides her – Shiden who had taken control of this new unit as simply as one commanded a breath – Shiden who had asked their new handler what color is your underwear? As if she couldn’t have had them all executed then and there – What could make Shiden stare, clearly wordless and breathless? 

Unintentionally, Shana was mirroring Shiden. Again. As usual. Because the only way they survived was by this mirroring: Shiden would mirror her when it mattered, when she needed to shut up, when she needed subterfuge. She would mirror Shiden when she needed to be loud, when she needed to grab someone by the collar and make then listen damn it. And in that mirroring, Shana had not drawn a breath in almost 30 seconds. 

There were tears in her eyes from forgetting to breathe, but she suspected that the tears in Shiden’s eyes were from something else. What? Shana couldn’t imagine what could possibly bring Shiden to tears when she hadn’t even cried on the day they buried the last of their previous unit, the day they’d received orders to come to Brisingamen – when they had known for certain that their days were numbered. 

But then the spell was broken, without Shiden ever realizing that Shana was there. “Damn it,” Shiden whispered, suddenly and vehemently. “Damn it.”

Shiden slapped the paper down into a drawer, then slammed the drawer closed. “Fuck!” Shiden shouted again, and stalked out of the common area, leaving it empty. 

Frowning, Shana slunk from the shadows of the kitchen and into the common area. She glanced around. No one here. Shiden had walked off somewhere. Just like that hot headed idiot to just leave the subject of her rage unprotected. Shana would have taken it with her. 

But Shiden’s hopelessness at protecting her self interest was Shana’s gain. Maybe she could find something to shut the mismatched eyed commanded up. Shana slid the drawer open as quietly as she could, snaked her hand in to grab the paper Shiden had shoved in, and then dove under the desk so that Shiden wouldn’t be able to see that she was even there, should she come into the hall. She knew Shiden. If it had made her that angry, maybe it was the final orders? 

That didn’t make sense. This wasn’t official orders paper. It was newsprint. It was flimsy. Shana was amazed that Shiden’s rough treatment hadn’t already shredded it, but it seemed to be in perfect condition. 

She unfolded the paper, expecting text, or a secret written in marker. 

A photo? 

Shana frowned, studying the photo for a long moment. It was an Alban woman. She didn’t particularly like Alban women – but this one was somewhat pretty. She was wearing an orange dress, with lace around the waist, and her hair was loose but she wore a crown of orange lilies. She wore a black lace shawl and gloves, and she was in the process of walking down a flight of stairs, like a fairy tale princess going to the ball to meet her prince charming. For all of that thought, she looked… well, a bit sad. 

There was a caption:

Vladilena Milize descends the stairs at the first Revolutionary Ball of the season, an event she typically forgoes in favor of her duties as a drone Handler in the war against the Legion. 

This was what had Shiden all in a tizzy? What was the big deal? Who even was this person? Shana read the caption a few more times before it finally sunk in. Vladilena. 

Lena. 

“Holy shit,” Shana whispered to herself. This was their handler? This must have been the picture from the first of the balls which Lena had subjected herself to in order to get the big para-RAID plan going. She’d said she would send a picture and she had. 

That didn’t quite explain Shiden’s reaction, but Shana suspected she had an idea of the issue. After all her bluster, Shiden hadn’t accounted for actually having a decent human as a Handler, had she? Much less a naiive beauty.

Shana smirked to herself. Well, that was going to be a problem. They all knew that their Handler was in love with a ghost. She slipped the newspaper clipping back into the drawer. She would ask Shiden about it later. In public. Loudly. So everyone could see. They all deserved to know what the woman who had kept hem alive for an unprecedented amount of time looked like – especially when she looked like that. Damn.

Chapter Text

For the second ball she dressed alone. It had been an exhausting week, fraught with Legion attacks poking and prodding at not just Brisingamen’s lines, but every other area as well. Even the lines which didn’t see a lot of actions had been attacked at least double their usual amount, and she had been obliged to cover at least three different handler’s squads for emergency support.

In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. The handlers she had been tapped to substitute for were ones that Brisingamen had only barely been able to contact – they were on the other side of the country and the squads that far apart did not have efficient communication. And yet, when she had said that she was Bloody Reina… she had received few questions and even less push back. She wondered about Brisingmen’s definition of “inefficient” now. At least the attacks had been child’s play compared to the fierceness of what Spearhead and Brisingamen went through. The squads had not lost anyone while she was in charge, though she heard that one had been severely damaged once their handler came back.

Lena swallowed down the lump of guilt and anger. She could not take over all of the squads immediately, could not save everyone in the immediate. She could sacrifice herself for a single squad, or she could go to this ball, get the para-RAID control, and save far more people in a year’s time. It still felt wrong. There was no reason those people had to die. There was no reason, other than their handler being clumsy and uncaring.

With the hours and hours of work she had been putting in, Lena’s eyes had sunken in, and she had forgotten to eat more than she remembered. On returning home from the half a day at work, after Shiden lectured her on the importance of being at the ball – keep your eyes on the prize, highness, goddamn. If you want to be so guilty about it, send me a picture of this dress, too. - her mother had offered that Lena could get a nap and arrive to the ball fashionably late, and Lena had thought about that for a moment, and then decided it might act in her favor to be a little hard to find. She had fallen asleep alarmingly fast, given how no one was completely safe in the daylight, but awakened to the sound of a bath being drawn and her mother’s gentle call.

It was not that her mother had softened on her. It wasn’t even that she and her mother had simply made up. But she felt like… even if it was a false understanding, that her mother would not have been shocked if she found out their plan to cause a commotion and hack the Para-RAID servers. Maybe she was lying to herself, pretending to keep the peace long enough that she could get through these balls. But she had to admit, it was… nice. Nice that her mother smiled at her now. Nice that she spoke to Lena with conversational pleasure instead of the stony, silent breakfasts they had endured together before. Nice to have a mother who cared for her, helped her.

Once cleaned and perfumed, Lena drew on the dress Miriam had made. With the stress of the last week, it was actually a touch looser than she remembered. Well, Annette would be pleased and so would the gentlemen at the ball, but Lena was less so.

“The flowers are here, Lena,” her mother said, “are you ready for make-up?”

“Yes,” Lena said softly. They had hired Miriam to come and complete the flower and make-up, her mother was so taken with the dresses that she had not even asked why Lena was hiring a seamstress to do hair and make-up. But Lena had hated doing it herself for the previous ball – she almost never wore make up or did her hair. She had been able to get away with it with Annette’s help for the first ball, but Annette had been obliged to satisfy her Aunt for this ball.

Miriam was quiet while she wove Petunias and Monkshod into Lena’s hair, seeming to sense Lena’s remaining exhaustion. At least the sun was down enough that the legion were unlikely to be active. “Don’t let these get in your mouth,” she said, waving the deep purple monkshod in the mirror. “They’re very poisonous. Thus the meaning of anger.”

Lena smiled. “Well, if someone smells my hair too deeply tonight, they’ll regret it, at least.”

Miriam smirked. “That’s thinking positive. Let’s get your face on.”

Drawing a chair close, Miriam swept a pale foundation over her entire face, then set about adding subtle sweeps of gradiating pink across her eyelids, lining her eyes in khol and painting her eyelashes. She painted her lips a sweet, delicate pink, just a shade darker than her lips normally were. Finally, she took a sparkling translucent powder and swept it onto her cheekbones and nose and then sat back to admire her handiwork. “You’re going to be quite a sight for the ones who really follow fashion,” she said with a smile. “Not many people can get a hold of the colors to do this and even fewer can get it right.”

“Thank you,” Lena said, “that will be good for the papers.”

Miriam smiled, setting Lena’s opera length, ivory gloves on her lap before packing her things and standing. “I’ll bill you with the last dress, all right?”

“Thank you, Miriam,” Lena said, suddenly struck by her reflection when Miriam moved aside. She looked… otherworldly. Somehow Miriam had erased the circles under her eyes and made her look like a twinkling goddess with the family silver. “It’s… you’re amazing.”

“Thank you. Have fun, tonight,” Miriam said, “I really am rooting for you.”

And with that she was gone, leaving Lena to stare at an unfamiliar but beautiful reflection, so shocked that the person in the mirror was her that she could hardly move. Experimentally, she lifted a hand to her face and gently tapped her cheek. The reflection did the same, reinforcing that it really was her.

Lena stood slowly, smoothing the dress down and letting the shoulder piece fall to their place just down her arms. She took a breath. If only she was doing this for some reason other than hacking a system that had been created at the price of a hundred people’s sanity. If only she wasn’t fighting this war on the outside and on the inside, against the people who could not stand to see the price of their comfort – not only to others but to themselves. It would all fall apart in just a bit more than a year, now, wouldn’t it? There was so much to do.

If only she could enjoy looking this beautiful.

If only he could see her-

No.

The thought practically stung her like a wasp to the throat, and Lena gasped, gulping back tears and pressing three fingers to her lips. She couldn’t cry now. She couldn’t think of them.

They were dead. They had to be dead. No matter how much she desperately wished, hoped, prayed, could not bring herself to believe… she had to let them go. They had gone on ahead and she was left behind – that was how it should have been, it was what they had wanted. They had wanted her to stay behind and watch them leave – for once in their lives to be the ones going ahead.

They had wanted her to stay behind and finish her work.

Tonight, this was her work in their stead.

Close eyes. Deep breath. Another. One more. It was time to go. She had to capture their attention. She could check in with Shiden on the ride over.

“All right,” she whispered to the drawing of spearhead stuck to the side of her mirror. “I’m going.”

~^~

Chapter Text

This time, Zack could not make the ball, and so the first to dance with her that night was another student who introduced himself as Dustin as he took her hand to dance. She had barely registered that he was a student at the same school as Zack when he began to speak.

“I saw you dancing with Zack at the other ball,” he said, smoothly leading them around the floor. “Did he tell you he was going to be valedictorian?”

“Zack?” Lena asked, trying not to frown too obviously. Why was Dustin concerned about him? And why was he asking about what Zack had said?

“The first guy you danced with,” Dustin said. “I figured you must have known each other.”

“Ah, him.” Lena said. “No, we don’t know each other, but I think he did mention about being valedictorian.”

“Is that so?” Dustin asked with a faint smile. “Well, glad I came then. Someone should warn you.”

“Of what?” Lena asked, frowning. 

Dustin was still smiling, though it seemed a little far off. “I heard the teachers talking. He had an outburst in class about half a year ago. Something about the processors not making sense. I’m not an engineering student, so I wasn’t there, but they’re going to make sure he’s a few points short of Valedictorian, no matter what.”

Lena went cold. It wasn’t a large part of their plan, not a lynch pin by any means, but she really had hoped that Zack would be able to make his valedictorian speech. It might have been a symbolic victory more than anything, but it still would have been important. 

“Sorry for bothering you with it,” Dustin said casually, “but I assumed that since you danced with him first, you knew Zack already, and I figured he deserved to know about the teacher’s plan. Could you let him know for me?”

“Sure,” Lena said, a little dazed, but as Dustin led her into a turn, she suddenly realized how little sense it made for him to be telling her this. He’d assumed they knew each other, so he’d told her so that he could tell Zack? He wasn’t interested in dancing with her for courting’s sake, so why was he doing this? “But why? What are you trying to do by telling him?”

“Hm,” Dustin looked up with a faint laugh. “Well. I guess I just wanted to tell him he can trust me with the valedictorian speech. I may not be an engineering student, but even I know the processors run at 37 degrees.”

This time, Lena nearly tripped on her dress, but Dustin covered for her artfully, and as the music finished, he bowed. “Don’t give me away?” he asked. 

Lena curtseyed. “You could join us?” she murmured.

Dustin glanced to the side, where a stern looking man in a teacher’s outfit was standing, his arms crossed and his face stormy. “I’m afraid I can’t be a part of the Vanguard,” he murmured. “Consider me a deep-plant.”

“All right, then,” Lena said, and watched as Dustin walked off the dance floor, only for the teacher to sling an arm across Dustin’s shoulders and lead him away, talking low and quick. 

~^~

Chapter Text

More older men danced with her that night, which Annette had told her to expect. By and large, they were polite enough, asking her what she planned to do with her time once married, what her hobbies were, how many children she was thinking of having, and what kind of house she would keep.

Mostly, she was honest. She was in no hurry to marry, so she would have time to consider what to do once her military career was complete (after the war, of course). Her hobbies were mainly reading, but she would probably cultivate more (after the war, of course). She had not really considered the number of children, only that she did want children (after the war, of course). Her house would be orderly and smooth, she had ample experience with budgets and management after all, and it would put it to good use (after the war, of course).

And then Kahrlstat stepped in front of the next, slightly younger man who was set to dance with her next, murmuring, “don’t worry son, you’ll get your turn.”

Her breath caught, but with so many people watching, Lena knew that this was going to be a moment the gossip rags either attached to, or dismissed as a simple family issue. She had considered what to do if Kahrlstat tried to call her on a ruse in front of everyone… but he didn’t seem to be here to do that, only marching onto the dance floor and extending his hand. “Surely you can spare your Uncle a dance in lieu of your father?” he asked.

“Of course, Uncle,” Lena said with a smile more genuine than she had worn in quite some time. The stormy faces the men waiting for her had been wearing softened almost immediately on realizing that Kahrlstat was not competition, simply a pause.

The dance began and for a stanza, Kahrlstat said nothing. Lena wondered what he was here to do if it wasn’t to test or grill her. Was he simply showing the gathered suitors that she was not without male protection? That was a possibility. “The thing with Carthage in the papers was pretty ridiculous,” he finally said. “He’s not giving you any more trouble is he?”

“He’s given me no more trouble than normal,” Lena said. “I’m sure he’ll dance with me again tonight, but in front of all these people he can only do so much.”

“Hm.” Karhlstat muttered, frowning. “Your mother is happier than I have seen her in some time.”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Lena said in as neutrally pleasant a tone as possible. He was probing her for information, hoping she would let something drop in the normal course of conversation. But it wasn’t like she wasn’t trained and experienced with such a lackluster interrogation; he clearly wasn’t trying too hard.

He was eerily silent for the rest of the dance, until, near the end, he sighed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. That’s all I wanted to say.”

He didn’t know that what she was looking for was a sufficient amount of drama in the third ball to hack the para-RAID system, but that didn’t matter. He was wishing her luck regardless. Lena nodded. “Thank you, Uncle. I appreciate your support in all things.”

They bowed to each other and Kahrlstat turned on a heel, putting a heavy hand on the shoulder the young man waiting for her. “Don’t forget. I’m watching.”

Lena watched every last man in line gulp slightly.

Chapter Text

She noticed that he waited for the last dance again. Robert Carthage stood at the end of the loose, informal line, and even as she hoped that maybe the music would end and the ball shut down before he had the chance to dance with her, she noticed him talking to men in front of him, smiling amicably and carefully applying what looked like intimidation on two, what looked like a subtle exchange of money on the last.

Still step-touching to the dance with her current partner, Lena tried not to let her face sour. It was more than a little worrisome – if the tabloids kept pushing this, she would end up having to go against Carthage for the third ball’s distraction, and that would be… well, she was certain she could do it. After all, her mother actually very much disliked Robert’s mother. She would have happily made amends or at least, been neutral, had Lena decided she wanted to marry Robert, but if Lena made him look a fool, her mother probably wouldn’t be too put out.

But her work life would become difficult. Robert’s superior was the one who had put her on warehouse duty a few months ago. Robert himself was not a handler, but he supported four of them, and while Lena doubted anything would come from that angle, he could conceivably be promoted to something parallel to her, and then she might suffer retribution.

But would he bother? He didn’t care that she was planning a coup. Was his angle to hedge for if she was wrong about the legion attacking at the end of the war, thus winning the Mileze fortune and a cushy life for after the war?

No, he was already going to have a cushy life after the war. The Carthages invested into the energy sector and that was poised to jump exponentially as soon as San Magnolia reclaimed the lands outside the Gran Mur, ripe for wind and hydro energy in the short term, with the possibility of oil and coal beneath the now-empty cities. Plus the storage and transportation of those goods.

At this rate, though, the tabloids would make her decision for her. She would be painted as courting him, and in order to cause the ruckus they needed, she would have to go with it.

It might already be too late.

As her partner bowed and Lena turned to Robert, who held out a hand to take hers and kissed it while she stood, transfixed in a sort of horror of understanding, she realized that the clicking she heard was not heels on the floor as she had assumed, but at least three cameras.

It was too late.

“You look ravishing, Lena,” he murmured. “I realize I may have come on a little strong at the previous ball. Please allow me to apologize. I should have spoken more plainly.” He took a breath, raising his voice loud enough that everyone around them could hear.  “I would like to officially declare my interest and intention of courting you.”

Damnit. Lena thought, but forced a smile to her lips, not entirely happy but more like imperious. “Cadet Carthage,” she said. “How kind of you. After our conversation on last week’s dance floor, I admit I thought I had chased you off with my clumsy words.” I told you I was planning a coup – what kind of game are you playing?

“You would need to work much harder than mere clumsiness,” Robert said with a grin that clearly said not the same game as you.  He smoothly took her hand, sweeping her onto the floor in a slow waltz that was much closer than the first dance they had shared. He leaned in, whispering, “I thought about what you said. It sounds like fun for my last year of life on this earth.”

“Fun?” Lena spat out. “You’re trying to court me, knowing that I’m planning a coup, for fun?”

Carthage chuckled. “You’ve no notion how obnoxious it is, listening to my parents harp on about the future, about the things they’re putting into place to take effect when the war ends, when they don’t even know what it looks like outside the Gran Mur. Do you know they said that it will be easy construct new pipelines and energy conduits once the legion are gone? Easy, they said!”

Lena blinked. With the amount of metal buried in random places outside the Gran Mur, anything that required digging or even ground clearing would be the opposite of easy. And energy conduits required a lot of signaling – off and on signals, storage signals… but the Legion had signal disrupting items that could carry on even without the Legion powering them – anyone wanting to use anything other than Para-RAID signals would have to find and disable those disruptors first… and they had tried to do that several times to no avail.

“They haven’t done any consultations with the military about the state of the outside world?” she asked in slight disbelief. Weren’t they supposed to be a powerful business family? Surely they wouldn’t be so blind that they really thought the world outside the Gran Mur was unaffected after so many years of Legion occupation?

“Oh, they did. And then watch too much of the newscasts and decided the military was overexaggerating so that they could keep the land for themselves.” Carthage snorted. “They showed me footage that one of their people snuck from outside the Gran Mur. ‘See, Robert? Nothing but dirt, grass and flowers as far as the eye can see! It’s a beautiful place for a wind farm’.” He snorted. “Yeah, I looked up the coordinates. You bombed the place out only last year to save the remnants of your previous unit. The radiation from the legion who were blown apart there would screw up any batteries we installed, the metal shards would make construction ten times as dangerous as usual, and good luck keeping permanent staff when they figure out how much heavy metals are in the dirt.”

“Anyway,” he said after a few steps, “after that conversation, I decided that you were right. Even if we’re taking control of a totally dead country, at least you know what it’s really like out there. You aren’t thinking that we’re just going to waltz out there and pick up where we left off. So yes, I think we should court, if only so that we can keep in contact to make some version of a better world when this is all over. And if you really do pull a coup at the end, well, that’ll be all the better for me not to have to suffer the idiocy.”

Was she dehydrated or was he actually making a reasonable argument? “So you’re not actually interested in marriage? Not interested in…,”

“Oh, I’d love to fuck you on every available piece of furniture in this room and the next,” Carthage cut her off, and she couldn’t decide if she was grateful that she hadn’t had to say it or disgusted with what he had said. Both, probably. “I would bite those thighs and lick your pussy until you’re sopping wet and screaming for me, but I’m also not run by my dick – I can empty my balls in any number of women, and I know damn well what a prude you are. No, this is a business proposition, pure... well, simple, anyway.” He grinned.

She wasn’t sure if she’d turned red or green. “So, no ...relations.”

“Right,” Carthage grinned. “I’ve got my eyes on the prize, my dear. Of course, we could divorce when it’s all over. Mutual departure, wouldn’t need to be dramatic.” He grinned, leaning closer so his breath washed hot over her ear, “Or we could stay married and you could keep whatever piece of trash 86 you’re probably in love with in some attic apartment – I’ll keep my mistress in a different house – we both fuck who we want, we’re both happy.”

“That sounds awful,” Lena managed to croak, bile rising in her throat and the urge to shove him off overwhelming.

Thankfully, he leaned back on his own. “That’s wealth,” Robert shot back. “Marriage is for business. Now smile for the cameras, dear.”

Lena shuddered, but as Robert carefully swung her out into a smooth turn and flourish, she smiled. He’d said it himself. Eyes on the prize. For her, that was someone to cause a huge scene at the last ball on Revolution day when she rejected him. And she had definitely secured her prize.

~^~

Chapter Text

At least she was ready for the photo this time. This time, it didn’t send a bolt of lightning through her heart and make her sick to her stomach.

Their handler was more beautiful than she could have imagined. She wasn’t usually in to Alba, had never really been into them. White skin, white hair, washed out eyes, it had just never appealed, like trying to kiss clean laundry. It might have smelled nice but it just couldn’t be anything.

Lena, though, she was something. Maybe it was just because Shiden knew Lena, knew her silver-bell voice like the back of her hand, knew the way it hitched when she was sad or thinking about spearhead. Knew the way she trailed off when she was lost in thought about a thorny problem. Knew how she barely breathed when confronted with the sounds of her and Brea having sex. Knew how she laughed at the dumbest, most six-year-old jokes.

She had never even considered the possibility that she might be in love with Lena until the moment she unfolded that newsprint picture which was now on display on the wall next to the door, with space for the second and third photo already cleared out.

The squad had different reactions to the photo for certain, but they had all agreed that it would be acceptable to have them posted up to the wall. Someone had asked the mechanic if that was really their handler, apparently suspecting that she had sent them a false photo. But the description of the dress exactly matched the one Lena had told her, and the mechanic had glanced it over and chuckled. Yep, that’s her. He said. Never saw her so dressed up.

About half of the squad had been indifferent. Whatever, she’s just our handler.

A quarter had reacted in gruff appreciation. Nice of her to include us. Pretty dress.

Of the rest, the reaction had been mixed between fawning, she’s so beautiful! Jealousy, sure, send us a picture of yourself at the ball while we’re stuck in these itchy uniforms. And silence.

Shana had loudly asked whether that photo of their handler had ever shown up.  Shiden had never wanted to kill her so badly, especially since she’d been forced to bring out the photo, see it again, feel that sharp lancet of mixed horror, pain, shame, and desperation well up in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Shiden said when Brea had to repeat something for the third time after the meeting. “I’ve just been… messed up.”

“It’s fine,” Brea said, sliding behind her and hugging her around the waist from behind. “Babe, of course it’s fine. You’ve been into her for at least three months.”

Shiden blinked, turned to Brea, who was grinning. “You knew? I didn’t even know.”

Brea quirked a lip. “Don’t tell me you forgot how hot you got once you knew she was listening. I’ve never come so fast in my life.” Shiden realized that her mouth was open a little in surprise. She had figured Brea might be jealous or shocked, but the blonde woman just laughed and nuzzled her. “I’m not going to judge you for being into her. She’s hot, smart, gutsy, and actually gives a damn. Of course you like her. And look, if you weren’t so obviously into her, I’d be into her. But it’s not like you can’t be into both of us. And now that you’ve admitted it… I can ask what you’d do to her, given she wanted it?”

It was a lot of whiplash to take at once, but given the question, Shiden licked her lips. “I… holy shit, I have no idea. So much.”

Brea’s lips grazed her neck and very suddenly Shiden’s nervous system lit up with burning, clawing need. The blonde’s lips moved up to her ear, nipping it from behind. “So, you’d want to be on top? Or would you rather her being on top? Go on and tell me, I want to hear it.”

“Oh, I would absolutely be on top,” Shiden whispered huskily. “I mean, you might be a bit of a switch but she’s a sub. I'd lay her on a bed and just feast until she couldn't stand for a week.”

“Completely agree,” Brea said, giggling as her hands rubbed at Shiden’s stomach, then up her ribs to cup her breasts through the fabric of her shirt, “She even turns on my dom side. Ooo, imagine if we both got to have her. You could eat her out while I played with her breasts, she'd be putty in our hands...”

Damnit, this was why she really liked Brea. Unlike Shiden, she had very little guilt or shame about her sexuality. Shiden wasn’t sure how she’d escaped it, but it was sure nice to have someone who was totally up for anything that didn’t hurt her. “We’d finally have someone to settle who’s better at eating out.”

“You could pretend I’m her,” Brea murmured. “If I blindfold you…”

“You’d be ok with that?” Shiden asked, even as her entire being itched for it.

“Are you kidding?” Brea asked with a small laugh. “Sounds hot as hell.” She held up a makeshift blindfold they had used before, but on Brea that time. It was made from a cut up t-shirt that had been made useless by holes from a burn. “Turn around.”

Shiden turned, and before she could even get a glimpse of Brea, her eyes were covered in white, and her lips were covered in a sweet, gentle kiss, hands taken and guided to Brea’s shirt hem at her stomach. “Shiden…” she said, and somehow, she affected Lena’s voice almost perfectly directly into her ear, hand trailing down her neck and over her chest. “Please, I…” she paused, and Shiden thought her brain might explode. It was exactly the same sort of pause Lena would have had. “I want you to… to … touch me! Please!”

It became incredibly clear then, that Brea really was into Lena at least as much as she was. Her imitation was too good to just be a casual listener, and the way her chest heaved as Shiden lightly explored, getting her bearings around the blindfold, was far too heavy for this to just be a favor to Shiden.

So, she let herself lean into the lie. If she was having a good time and so was Brea, where was the harm? “Lena…” Shiden whispered, letting her voice drip with all the lust she’d held, suspended and pent up, for the last two weeks, and pushed up the shirt, immediately undressing the woman beneath her by touch alone, spreading her legs and sitting atop them so she could not rub them together for release and then beginning to tweak, lick, and suck on her breasts, imagining the way Lena’s white hair would splay across the pillow, how she would squirm and mewl, how she would throw her head and arch her back. With the blindfold on and the picture of their handler clear as a bell in her mind, Shiden could throw herself into the fantasy well enough to work up a sweat in no time.

By the time they collapsed onto the bed again, it had probably been four hours and they had drank through all of the spare water they kept in their room. Brea was still panting. “That was amazing.” She whispered to the ceiling.

“Fuck,” Shiden mumbled as she finally pulled the blindfold off her face, now nearly stiff with sweat and fluids. “Damn right.”

Brea kissed her cheek. “If you make a move on her, don't leave me behind,” she said with a chuckle.

“Not a chance,” Shiden said, throwing an arm around Brea and kissing her for the first time that night without the blindfold, and for the first time free of the notion that this thing with Brea wasn’t something she cared about lasting. “I promise.”

~^~

Chapter Text

“Ok, this is it,” Annette murmured as she stood, her glittering, ice-blue gown slinking across her figure. She shrugged on her white fur stole as Lena tried to arrange her voluminous skirt.

“Did you practice walking and running?” she asked.

Lena nodded, sighing. “Miriam helped me, though mother almost caught a sweat stain earlier.” It had been hard work, but worth it. She could move in the large ballgown well enough to run, jump, and maneuver around basic items, like chairs and guard rails. They had no idea what was coming that night, so she and Miriam and practiced until she was certain she had it down.

It was a striking dress, enormous with many layers of tulle, with a an embroidered net of various pink flowers – not just roses, but no matter how many times Miriam named them, she couldn’t remember them all – the only other one she remembered was ivy – for steadfast loyalty. The ivy grew in and around the flowers, circled her waist, and dripped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose and curled, caught up in combs of gold and peridot to completement the color of the ivy. The hair style coincidentally also covered the para-RAID around her neck, allowing her to communicate the timing of the distraction with Annette. Miriam had dusted her eyes with the faintest blush of pink, keeping her lips the same color of pink. As a final touch, she had pressed gold leaf along the crest of cheek bones, turning the skin there into something akin to a golden lizard. Lena had nearly objected until she saw how the gold leaf and the eyeliner together made her look as though she were the statue of the Goddess of San Magnolia, given form and fury.

“I’ll wait until the ball is in full swing. When I give the signal, wait two minutes, and then do whatever you can to cause a commotion. I can trick one, maybe two people if they stay down there, but any more than that and they’ll check themselves.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Lena asked. “What’s the contingency?”

Annette shook her head. “If all else fails, you can just bust in there with your official shit and order them to help you with something as if it’s an emergency. It would incriminate you if they decided to look into it, though, which is why we’re trying to keep you in the spotlight. We don’t want them to know that you were involved at all – and if you’re embroiled in a courting spat in front of everyone… well, they would have a tough time blaming you.”

“Yeah,” Lena whispered, then cleared her throat. “I think I’ve got to use Robert. Should I be honest with him?”

Annette pursed her lips. “Honest-adjacent. You don’t lie well, Lena. But if you tell him there’s an emergency and you need him to make a scene with you, with the right incentive, I think he’d do it. After all, he doesn’t want a real marriage either. And look at it this way, you’re pretty sure the legion are really going to attack, right?”

“I’m certain, now,” Lena said softly. “They’re testing our defenses. If it weren’t for this plan, I would be sitting on stand-by with Brisignamen. They’re likely to see action before it gets dark.” She glanced out the window. She had told Shiden that she was wearing the para-RAID tonight and to contact her to report an attack’s start so that she could duck out if possible. Shiden had sworn up and down that they would be fine, but it would be easier to relax once dark had fallen. If only she could have waited until night fall, but the actual revolutionary day ball started at noon and went late into the night. Worse, it was in their work building: her office would be blocked off unless she went around all security. They planned to make their move just before dinner, to maximize the chances of drunkenness and get in and out before the night shift started so the day shift could go straight to drinking and forget any potential odd thing they saw.

“Great. Then even the worst happens and he forces you to accept his courting you, the max time you’d have to put up with him is a year of courting, which could conceivably amount to 12 dates total.”

The very idea was repugnant, but Annette had a point. And against the ability to communicate with all of the 86 on the front, the discomfort of 12 dates didn’t seem to  great. “I’ll avoid it if I can, but all right.” Lena took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

The ball was – well, it was much more raucous than the previous affairs. People were already well into their cocktails, rosy cheeked and red-nosed. The women were mainly dressed more like Annette than her, but Lena was pleased nonetheless – it meant she would stand out.

And stand out she did. “Vladilena Mileze,” a voice behind her said, and when she turned, it was the sitting minister for her district. Annette immediately dropped into a curtsey, and Lena followed suit. “Revolution Day Greetings to you, Minister Ahrendale,” Lena said. “I am flattered you remember my name.”

“One could hardly forget, the way the press is following you of late.” Charles Ahrendale was a tall, straight-standing man, always wearing a vest and crip shirt. Today he was also wearing a tailcoat with flashing mother of pearl buttons. “I am impressed with your acumen for garnering attention. Have you considered running for office? We are looking for more womanly politicians for our party.”

Lena blinked. That was new. “Are you?” she asked lightly. “How progressive of you, minister.”

“Yes, well,” Ahrendale sighed faintly, as if rolling his eyes. “Young people say they want more female voices after the war, and they would love to see you in the House of Commons, I’m sure. Don’t fret, we wouldn’t have you doing any of the major arguments – just fundraising and Chamber tours, that sort of thing. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your family.”

So they wanted a show-piece, something they could point to and say look, we listened to you! Of course they did. Lena forced a smile. “I’ll consider it, Minister. Thank you for the thought. May I contact you directly if I decide it is something I wish to pursue?”

“Do. Especially if you end up courting Carthage, as the papers say,” Ahrendale nodded stiffly. “We could use a man like him in our ranks as well.”

And his money backing you, Lena thought to herself. It wasn’t a lead worth pursuing. They were decades past the point where law could save them. But if she had free range to contact Ahrendale, possibly get into the chambers… well, it was a place where much historic information was kept, so it wasn’t a bridge she wanted to burn.

The beginning of revolutionary day festivities focused much more on mingling, talking, and taking in various performances in various places around the venue, which was the same building she and Annette usually worked in. Her office hallway was even visible from the main hall, where a string quartet played lovely, twinkling tunes as a handful of acrobats swung around flags, veils and twisted their bodies in various ways in the background. Most people paid them no mind, but Lena had a hard time not staring.

To make sure they aroused no suspicion when Annette left the room, Lena intentionally spent much of the afternoon on her own. The potential suitors made the time pass quickly, and since there was no easy excuse to touch her, it was quite easy to remain out of reach of the ones who had grown drunk more quickly than the rest.

At three oclock, when the party was getting over the first full swing and the ones who had been drinking since the morning were starting to get sleepy, the para-raid she was wearing to communicate with Annette crackled on.

Majesty, Shiden’s voice was tight, Don’t worry about responding. Just letting you know that there’s a small legion squad sidling up. We’re mobilizing to take care of it, but we should be fine.

What awful timing. They were just about to start. Lena turned to the wall briefly, trying not to move her lips overmuch as she said “Understood. Call if it gets bad.”

We’ve got it, Majesty, Brea’s voice chimed in. You just concentrate on looking beautiful at the ball!

What she said, Shiden said, and now her voice sounded more relaxed. The para-RAID went quiet again. Lena let out a breath. Brisingamen had weathered many fights without her being immediately available, especially the small fights the Legion had been giving them lately. But it still made her nervous. Shiden would know to give the all clear when it was over, and now she just had to hope that came before Annette went in.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then fifteen more. Lena pressed her lips together. Most of the small skirmishes hadn’t lasted any more than 45 minutes from deployment to all clear. But another fifteen minutes and there was still nothing from Shiden.

An hour since Shiden’s call. She had managed to talk with a handful of people, but her nerves were starting to wear on her. And then Annette came on. Pretty sure I just saw two of the server guards walk past to get a drink, she said. It’s go time. You good?

Damn it. It was about that time, and yet she’d been so consumed with her squad that she had not gotten in to position to negotiate with Carthage. Lena scanned the crowd. Where was he? This was a golden opportunity and she was wasting it. “Go get ready,” Lena said, “I just have to find Carthage.”

Just go stand in the middle of the dance floor and look whimsical, Annette said. I see him. I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right entrance, and that would appeal to his sense of drama.

There were people standing on the dance floor, but Lena took Annette’s meaning. She was right. Carthage had a flair for the dramatic and the money to make dramatic happen. He enjoyed playing to the press. Taking a deep breath, Lena set her shoulders back and floated to the middle of where the dance floor would be in scant hours.

It was an enormous room, full of chatter and boisterous toasts. Perhaps she imagined it. Perhaps not. But it seemed as if, as she approached the middle of the dance floor, trying not to crease her brows in concern - where was Shiden with the all-clear?! – the voices of everyone in the room fell away, quieting to nothing.

She kept her eyes on the orchestra, trying not to look around for Carthage. He would want to surprise her, if this was going to work. He’s on your five oclock, Annette came over the Para-raid. Keep walking and looking sad. Fuck, he’s so predictable.

To Annette he was predictable. Lena would have never thought to try this! But the knowledge that the last piece of the puzzle was falling in place made it easier to relax her shoulders and take smaller, more dainty steps. She knew from Miriam’s coaching, it would make it look as if she were floating over the dance floor. Hopefully her expression was wistful and not sick. Still no all-clear…

And then a hand took her by the elbow, and Carthage ducked around her so that she did not break stride, but he had taken her by the waist and was lifting her hand in his, gently leading her around. She had expected, but the way he managed to do it without breaking her stride or stepping on her dress still made her gasp slightly. “Robert?!”

All right, I’m in position, Annette said.

“Hello my dear,” Carthage said. “You looked so sad and alone out here. I couldn’t help but join you, and look, they are making room for us.”

The words to reply were in her throat, on her tongue. Words to politely thank him for coming to meet her, words to ask for his help, words to offer herself in exchange for the chance to talk to people who had no reason to listen… but then the para-RAID activated again.

Majesty, Shiden’s voice was punctuated by heavy breathing. Lena, I’m… I’m sorry. There’s at least three snipers, and we’re all pinned. Can you get away? We need to know where it is before more Grau get sent in to ferret us out…

She stumbled. No. This was exactly what she’d worried about.

Carthage caught her, and his expression was one of legitimate concern, much to her surprise. “What’s wrong?” he asked, “You’ve gone green.”

Lena shuddered. Of course she had. How could she get to her office? It was on the upper floor, and she might be able to hop the chains and such, but would they let her work right now? And how could she cause a commotion to let Annette hack the RAID servers if she was up in her office?

No, wait. Her problems had the same solution. She reached up, pulled her hair aside just enough that he could see the para-RAID around her neck, and said to Shiden, ”I’ll be there in seven minutes. Just hold tight.”

“Your unit?” Carthage asked.

“Yes,” Lena said, and squeezed his hand. “You know what my people mean to me.”

“They’re not your people, but whatever,” Robert said. “Go on.”

“They’re pinned by snipers and expecting another wave. They’ll get flushed and sniped if I can’t get to my office to tell them where the snipers are.”

“So, you want a distraction so you can get up there?” Carthage drawled. “I don’t mind doing that, but will you let me make a show of courting you this year in return?”

“Only if you understand we won’t be engaged until a month after next revolutionary day.”

“Two weeks and you’ve got a deal,” Robert said with a smirk. “It’s only an engagement, after all.”

“A month, but I’ll make introductions to minister Ahrendale.” Lena countered. It was too much, two weeks was not worth an introduction to the section minister! She knew that! But gods, she needed this to go fast, it had already been thirty seconds, and every second counted.

This time, Robert’s eyebrows shot up, and he grinned in a way that made her think of a hunting dog who had found a new favorite toy. “Deal. Come, my dear,” he swung her out and then in, snaking arms around her waist and shoulders so that she was pressed against her shoulder. Distantly, she heard the clicks of cameras. He bent his lips to her hair, murmuring, “I will lead you to the stairs to stand. I will go and get us refreshments. On the way, I will trigger the fire alarms. Go then.”

“Hurry,” she replied, half-choked by his cologne, but dizzy with worry over Brisingamen. This type of situation was what killed entire units. She couldn’t lose them. Not when they were so close!

He squeezed her hands as he stood her by the stairs. “Smile,” he whispered. “To everyone else it looks as if you just accepted my offer of courtship.”

She smiled. Robert left. After only nerve-wracking seconds, the fire alarms shrieked. Everyone ducked in surprise, and then started to mill around. Lena slipped up the stairs, bunching the dress in her hands to take the stairs two at a time, then the hallway at a dead sprint.

Her door unlocked to her touch. Her station was always set to battle mode when she was away, just in case she had to hurry back. She dragged the dress into her chair, scanning the screens for the snipers and spotting them immediately. “Shiden!” She slammed onto the para-RAID, trusting that Annette would know that the alarms meant it was her time.  “Three oclock – probably using the rubble there for cover – shoot in to the pile!”

Majesty, thank fuck, Shiden whispered. Fine-fingers, that’s by you, can you get it?

Got it! Adebayo was Fine-Fingers, and after only a moment there were shots, and then an explosion. Sniper one is down!

“Sniper two is in the water,” Lena said. “Sweet-deer, you’ve got the best angle on it. Just shoot into the water and you should get it.”

More shots. Another explosion, this one slightly muffled. Sniper two is down.

“Last one,” Lena said with a sigh. “It’s in the building at Whiskey-Tango’s two o’clock,” Lena said, still breathing hard. “Looking at the plans, it’s still standing, yes?”

Yeah, Brea spoke up as Whiskey-Tango. And I’ve got a pretty good view into it from where I am. There’s nothing there.

“Then it’s clinging to a ceiling somehow,” Lena said. “Some of the little ones do that. Anyone got a rocket or a grenade to collapse the building?”

These bastards, Brea sighed. I should have caught that. Building is hanging by a thread anyway. More shots. This time, a rumbling of rock collapsing in on itself. Sniper three is down!

“Here come the rest!” Lena cried as red dots fanned out at the edge of her screen. “Re-group! They’re coming in hot!”

On me, Brisingamen! Shiden shouted, and Lena watched as the green markings on her screen lined up again, meeting the red marks as they charged in, thinking that they would meet easy resistance with the squad held down by snipers. As soon as they were free to move again, though, the formation held fast. Lena sat back, watching and listening, keeping track of her screen.

She would never know how, exactly they lost their footing. Maybe they had been pinned down longer than she knew, and the battle weariness had set in. Maybe they hadn’t slept well the previous night. Maybe it was simple exhaustion from all the small skirmishes they had fought in the last few weeks.

All Lena knew for sure was that, just as the legion was about to hit their curfew, suddenly, Brea gasped, and Whiskey-Tango’s light went red, beeped, then flickered out.

No para-RAID.

No screams.

Nothing.

Just silence.

Chapter Text

“Whiskey-Tango?!” Lena shot up in her seat, nearly shouting into the para-RAID. “Come in! What happened!?” There was nothing obvious on the screen – nothing close to where Brea’s dot had been, no hidden legion in the lakes or the buildings. Lena couldn’t even hear the para-RAID.

Where is she?! Shiden demanded. Where did she go off screen?

“Two clicks to your seven o’clock,” Lena said. Maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe something had gotten rattled by a legion shot. They would have to have the mechanic check it later. “There was nothing, Cyclops, it just went dark!”

I heard it too, Shiden replied. Am I good to turn around?

Lena frantically checked the screen again. “Yes. They’ve all retreated.”

Shiden, don’t. Melusine, Shana’s sign, popped up as the speaker. I can see her.

Shut up, Shana! Is her unit down? Shiden snarled, but Lena noticed that she didn’t turn around. They all knew what a dark light meant. They all knew it. They just couldn’t believe it. Lena could scarcely believe it herself. What had happened?  Had there been another sniper somewhere off-screen? Answer me! Shiden screamed.

Shana’s voice was cool and even as if they were discussing whether a chair was out of place. Looks like it was a self-propelled grenade.

No… Shiden whispered. Bile rose in Lena’s throat. She heard another of the processors hiccup a sob. There weren’t any others anywhere…

As if she had said nothing, Shana continued. Probably crawled up out of the marshes and got under her. She dodged, but it wasn’t quite enough. Half the hull is missing.

No, no, no… finally Shiden whirled her machine around and dashed immediately to the spot on Lena’s screen where Brea’s signal had gone dark. Lena heard the clatter as the Juggernaut Shiden piloted settled into place, then creaked open, Shiden breathing hard but saying nothing.

None of the processors spoke. Lena held her breath. She couldn’t see the damage, but self-propelled mines had killed dozens of processors through the Juggernaut hulls over the years. She had never heard of anyone actually surviving it. Even so, Brisingamen had the same policy as Spearhead: even if someone was dead, you either took the body back and burned it, or you scrambled their brains so they didn’t come back to haunt you.

You… idiot… the words came between labored pants of pain. Get back in your ‘naut.

Lena blinked in shock. Gasps came from the processors. Shiden sounded choked as she whispered. She’s alive. Majesty, she’s alive.

Get her back to camp, Lena said. Carefully. Don’t rush. You have time.

Yes, Shiden whispered. Yes of course. Come on, babe, let’s get you home…

Home, Brea’s voice was weak. Lena didn’t hear it over her own para-RAID but over Shiden’s. I’ll just bleed on the floors.

No you won’t sweetie, look, there’s hardly any blood at all…

Lena frowned. That wasn’t possible. Shiden was lying to make Brea feel better. Or maybe she was lying to herself to ignore the damage. She couldn’t get too caught up in her emotions now – how were they going to deal with Brea’s injuries? Who could give her unbiased information about the wounds so Lena could determine treatment options?

She switched her channel to Shana only as the . Miselune, once you have her back, I need you to look Whiskey-tango over for me. Tell me where she’s wounded, how deeply, and how much blood loss as soon as you can.

No need to wait, Shana murmured. I saw it during the transfer. It’s all in the belly and shoulder. There’s not much blood, but that just means puncture wounds. The blast probably took out her para-RAID implant, which is why we didn’t hear anything. She’ll be feverish within the hour, and dead in three days, two if she’s lucky.

This was part of why Shiden and Shana didn’t get along. To Shiden, nothing was over until it was over. Shana was more practical. At the moment, though, Lena appreciated the candor. You’ve seen it before?

Shiden has too, Shana said darkly. She’s just refusing to remember.

Lena swallowed. When you get back, get the morphine. Administer a dose and a half immediately.

All right, Shana murmured, and left the obvious question to hang in the air between them all. But then, what?

~^~

By the time they returned to the house, Brea was sweating and crying out with every movement as the shock of the battle wore off. Lena listened tensely as Shana administered the morphine with Brea still on Shiden’s lap in the juggernaut, waiting for it to start taking effect, and then eased her out of the machine and into the room closest to the entrance, which Adebayo cleared out ahead of them.

Lena swallowed as she felt the rising horror in her throat while Shiden and Shana cut the suit off of Brea’s stomach. It was a horror she wanted to feel first hand. She wanted to be out there with them, helping them. But she was not there. She couldn’t be there. Instead, she was miles away, sitting in a cooled office in a beautiful dress. The urge to make this about her in some way was strong. She was disconnected. There was no way she could possibly be central to this, but being off to the side was maddening.

But if spearhead had taught her anything, it was to own her place. Her place was not inside this narrative. She was not the direct victim of these circumstances, and she could not put more burden on the people who were the direct victim. It was her job to be caring and compassionate, but also to finish the job and then allow them grief. She took a deep breath and took up the doctor’s list of questions, the same one she had read from to diagnose Adebayo, but this time for wounds… and at the bottom of the flow chart for wounds were only 3 options: Bandage and rest, Stitches, and Morphine.

Morphine did not mean pain mitigation, in this case. The doctor had explained with the first vial that in the case of soldiers in the field with no access to medical care, the morphine had an additional use: death with dignity.

“I’m going to read some questions. Answer them truthfully.” Lena said. She wanted to ask gently, add an ‘ok?’ to the end of her sentence. But Shiden did not appreciate pity in the best of times, and now, she would hate it even more than usual.

Ok, Shiden said.

Yes, Shana replied.

Sure thing, Handler one, Brea’s voice was fainter, but at least she didn’t have the tinge of pain in her tone, nor was she crying any more.

“What area of the body is wounded? List all of them.”

Let’s see… Shiden said. Lacerations to the shoulder and neck, burns to face and arm, but they aren’t really blistering, just red, leg wounds but nothing to an artery, and her ankle is pretty messed up.

Puncture wounds to the belly, Shana said. Probably shrapnel in there, from the explosion.

Yes, Brea said. Shana’s right. I’m so full of metal right now I could build a toy car.

Brea… Shiden whispered.

No use hiding it, Brea said, it’ll be pretty obvious in a little while.

Lena swallowed. Is the stomach distended? Um, sticking out?

Her stomach is sticking out a bit, Shiden said slowly.

I look like a balloon about to pop, Brea said, and laughed, then half-choked, oh, man, morphine can’t let me laugh I guess, ow.

Lena swallowed. They had already gone two boxes towards Morphine. Does she have a fever yet?

Yes, Shiden whispered.

It’s already pretty high, Shana added.

Only one more box. Can you smell anything?

No, Shiden said.

Yes, Shana said at the same time. Just a hint.

A hint of what? Brea asked, and then paused. Oh, she wants to know if the shrapnel hit my small intestine. It did, Major, no need to wonder. I’m not going to survive this.

Brea, you don’t…

I’m just glad you pulled me out instead of leaving me, Brea said. So I can die in a bed with you all near rather than alone on a battle field. This is so much better, and I’ll never be a legion. And thank you, Lena, for the Morphine. I wish there was enough for everyone to try it, it’s so nice to just feel… floaty.

Lena swallowed. It wasn’t fair. Brea was so smart. She guessed what Lena was doing. She knew what was at stake and why she was doing it. But she knew what her duty in all of this was. She had to give the order. She had to say it. Because if she didn’t say it, then Shiden or Shana would have to, and then it would feel to them as if they had killed Brea. If she gave the order, they could simply blame her, or the legion. They would wield the needle, but she had to tell them to do it.

She flipped the page to the back, folding it over to show only the “Morphine” option. “Shana, I need to you to go and get 200 milligrams of Morphine in a needle. Bring it to the room and give it to Shiden.”

Brea murmured to Shiden, Hey, remember that thing we talked about a few night ago, about not leaving me behind?

Shiden audibly swallowed. Yeah.  She said. Yeah, I remember.

Looks like you’ll have to go it alone, Brea said. I’m sorry to miss it.

I almost don’t want to go for it without you, Shiden whispered.

Do what feels right, ok? Brea replied.

Shana returned. Should I give it all at once?

“No,” Lena said. “Give the needle to Shiden.”

I don’t-

“You see the marks on the needle? Give two marks every ten minutes or so, until she falls asleep. Then, give the rest, however much is there.” Lena read out from the pamphlet, trying to stay somber but firm.

There was a moment of silence. Then – is that an order?

“Yes.” No one and nothing could save Brea now. Even if a doctor flew directly to the squad with antibiotics and a surgical kit in hand, it would only prolong the agony. They couldn’t save her life, but they could give her a death that was as painless as possible. Morphine could have side effects that were unpleasant, but the doctor said that if they gave enough to put Brea into a deep sleep first, they had the chance to avoid them.

Another pause. All right.

Lena waited a moment to ensure there were no questions, then swallowed. This was her last chance to speak to Brea, to the girl who had first piped up that someone had binoculars in her former unit and someone was always watching out with them – the suggestion had prompted her to scrounge and steal three pairs of binoculars for Brisingamen and four more for other units to keep more effective watches. Brea, who was an excellent second in command. Who knew how they had messed up their numbers in their reports and how to fix them. Who had wanted to be an architect. Tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn’t about her, and yet.

“Thank you, Brea Hrubil. I’m sorry. We’ll remember you.”

Thanks, Handler one. Lena. You were really pretty in the pictures you sent. I’m sorry I can’t see the last. Did the dress turn out nice?

“Yes,” Lena said, unable to hold back a small chuckle.

Did you get your mission done? I know we interrupted…

“I think we did,” Lena said. “Someone pulled a fire alarm, so there was all sorts of chaos without me doing a thing. We got it done.”

All that work and you just had to pull a fire alarm, huh? Shiden said. Ain’t that some shit?

Lena laughed. Brea tried to laugh, but ended up sighing instead. Good. I’m glad I got to know. Did I tell you that you’re pretty, Lena? I’m not gonna spill any deathbed secrets, but just… you are. You’re beautiful. And so are you… Her voice went softer, gentler, and Lena could tell that she was forgotten about in favor of Shiden.

Brea… Shiden started to speak, but didn’t get any further than Brea’s name before having to stop, a sob clawing from her throat before she could swallow it down.

Her part of the job was done. It was her duty to leave them to it now. Lena switched to the channel with the entire squad except Shiden and Brea. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and squared her shoulders. “Brisingamen squadron, at the time of Brea Hrubil, or Whiskey-Tango’s passing, your new second in command will be Shana Aya. Please take the evening to grieve with each other. I will be in touch in the morning.”

She immediately turned off the para-RAID and, shaking, swung out of her chair. Next would be tears, if she was any sort of normal, but nothing happened. She only stood, shaking, staring at the corner of the room and trying to decide what was next. Where was she? What had happened? What did she need to do now? Nothing came, her mind ticking like an engine with a dead battery – attempting to chug but with no spark to ignite movement.

“Lost one, huh?” the voice was at her door, and nearly scared her out of her skin.

“Robert?” she asked, and her voice was more rough than she had expected, as if she had been screaming for hours. She checked the clock. It had only been about forty-five minutes.

“You didn’t come downstairs or outside, so I figured I’d check on you,” he said, leaning in the door frame. “Great call sign on your fallen warrior. I’m sorry about that.”

He sounded as if he were giving her sympathy for a dead dog. It was sympathy at all, but it was still hollow. Lena only stared for a long moment, trying to muster up some kind of emotion, but everything just rang hollow, empty. There was a girl dying of stomach wounds on a bed far away, being given slow doses of sleep by her lover until she slipped away. Nothing Robert said or didn’t say seemed too great in comparison to that.

“I’m going home,” she said softly, walking towards the door. He stepped inside. “Contact me for our first courting in a week.”

“You know, it would be awfully easy to take advantage of you right now.”

“You won’t, though,” she said, continuing to walk.

Robert chuckled. “Now how did you know that?”

Lena shook her head. “You’re not after me for the sex. And if you did it, you wouldn’t get what you really want.”

“Heh. I could really fall for you, you know?”

Lena paused with her back to him. She’d never gotten a confession of any sort, and that sounded remarkably close. And yet, nothing in her fluttered. Nothing jumped or quivered. There was nothing but empty space. Blank as the ceiling she was staring at in hollow contemplation now. “Of course.” She said. “But I couldn’t.”

Chapter Text

Shiden did not speak to her for three weeks. Lena might have been more concerned had Shana not called her at 6:55pm each night to report in Shiden’s stead. Lena did not ask how they were doing. They were more fine than they should have been. Someone had taken over Brea’s chores, they had divided up her effects – most for Shiden, a few for her other friends in the unit. Lena did not mention the death – they usually preferred it that way, and she had told them early: if someone dies, I will listen to you talk about them, if that is what you want. But she would not be the one to bring it up. It was easier to move on – and in a war zone, they needed to move on. There was no critical mistake in what had happened to Brea. There was no lesson to be learned but one they already knew: in war, good people died. No one could save them.

It was nearly time for her first “date” with Robert by the time Shiden finally was on the line when Shana called. “All normal here. They are not pushing the lines like they were – it stopped two weeks ago.”

Shana had reported the same thing, but Lena was just glad to hear her voice. “Very good. I wanted to introduce the unit to some of our allies. We also need to decide how to contact the other units and explain the situation with the Para-raid.”

“We’ve made contact with our neighboring groups and told them about the plan,” Shiden said gruffly. “They’ll be able to pass the message in their direction until you reach around the wall.”

“What if one of them slips to their handler that they’ve spoken to you?” Shana asked, and Lena could hear the frown.

Lena sighed. “I’m not sure. It depends on their handler. Some handlers would dismiss it as crazy. Others would be accuse me of meddling, which could get me in trouble. I’d need to find an excuse for contacting them.”

“Are they likely to catch our… blank space?” Shiden asked. “If they did, that could unravel everything.”

Lena pressed her lips together. “You’re right. I’d have to ask Annette.”

 But when she asked Annette, the scientist just shrugged. “It’s never been an elegant system. We’re relying on a lot of dumbassery and ambivalence, here. But you know, you have another ally who might be able to get you an excuse to communicate with the squads.”

Lena blinked. “Zach is still in school?” she said, “And Miriam isn’t military.”

“No, goose. Carthage. Don’t you have a date with him next week?”

The blood half-drained from her face. She’d accepted the invitation to the theater and dinner, but had been trying so had not to think about it she had managed to forget. “Robert? He’s not an ally.”

“He’s not a trustworthy ally,” Annette corrected her. “But an ally is an ally, no matter how sketch. And doesn’t Robert have a significant role in supplies and supply chains? Ask him to slip a letter of introduction into the next delivery for all units, and have them call you.”

Lena sputtered, but she couldn’t deny that it was an incredibly elegant solution. The 86 would be on their own terms, less likely to be in the middle of something dangerous or with their own handlers when they called. It would leave physical evidence, but physical evidence at the front was less worrisome than other places. “Can we set a passcode?” Lena asked. “Something only 86 would know?”

“A passcode is… not impossible to require,” Annette mused. “But we wouldn’t want to leave it on there, or people would need to put the password in when the legion attack.”

Lena grimaced. “Nevermind.”

“We could make it a channel instead,” Annette suggested. “All we’d need to do is get you another para-raid device and have that be the call sign.”

Lena nodded. “That’s better. Now, what to offer Robert in exchange.” She sighed. “Should I even tell him about the Para-raid?”

Annette sat down and sighed. “I’m not sure. From what you’ve said, he’s doing this for fun and hedging his bets a little. It’s a little weird to me that he’d pull the fire alarm just so you could get to your unit.” She eyed Lena with a pursed lip. “It could have really backfired on him.”

“He got a courtship out of it,” Lena muttered. “And his excuse was that a candle was knocked over.”

“Still,” Annette said. “I think you should feel him out. Ask him what he thinks you’re going to be doing on these dates. Because if you’re courting, you might as well have useful conversations. You’re a tactical genius, Lena, but he’s in supply strategy, and his family is in energy. That’s useful stuff for civilization and espionage. We could use his advice in areas like, how to keep the city running once the Gran Mur is down, where the important energy centers to protect are, and he might even know where good places of shelter are.”

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Annette was right. Robert’s strengths were exactly her weaknesses. Lena sighed. “I’m going to have to get a lot better at tolerating him, aren’t I?”

“Well, he’s better than that scientist I slept with,” Annette shrugged. “Trust me.”

Lena shuddered. “I’d better pick out an outfit.”

Annette grinned. “Now you’re talking. Let’s go shop my closet.”

~^~

Annette helped her choose a navy blue, lanterned sleeve dress which fell to her knees, with elegant, ribboned sandals to accompany. Lena brushed and braided her hair so that it was out of her face, applied the faintest touch of blush and pink lipstick, and then went to her mother for help picking jewelry. Everything she had seen so far was appropriate for a ballgown, but not a date to the theater and dinner.

Margareta swept her into her own rooms, then into her large dressing closet, smiling thoughtfully. “You know, dear,” she said, “I’m over the moon that you settled on someone to court, but honestly, choosing the Carthage boy?” she turned to Lena with a silver chain on which hung an opal the size of her thumbnail. “You know I despise his mother.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Lena said. “He had a very good argument for allowing him a chance.”

“Oh?” Margareta asked, twirling her finger. Lena obediently turned away and lifted her hair. “I’m surprised. Is he interested in freeing the 86 as well?”

“He’s interested in how we will function as a country when they are equalized,” Lena replied. She didn’t have to say how they would be equalized. Margareta had already told her years ago that her theory that the legion would not shut down was too depressing to contemplate. “The Milize name offers him power. The Carthage name offers me legitimacy in politics. Minister Ahrendale offered me a place in the senate at the last ball.”

Her mother sniffed behind her. Lena turned quickly, worried that she had said something to give herself away and her mother was about to take her on the biggest guilt trip in the world. But Margareta was smiling. “Good,” she said. “Now you just have to see if you can stand each other well enough to achieve your goals together.”

Was that the trick? Lena bit her lip. “Thank you, Mother. And I’m sorry if you have to deal with his mother. Why don’t you like her?”

Margereta smiled sweetly. “She tried to steal your father out from under me,” she said. “It didn’t work. She thinks she won because she married a Carthage, but that man smells terrible and goes through prostitutes like candy.” Her mother sighed. “I suppose that’s why she did it though.” She glanced at the clock. “But you should get going. Robert will be here soon! Do you want to borrow my theater glasses?”

~^~

Robert arrived in chauffeured car that looked almost like a half-limosene. He got out, waved to her mother, opened the door for her, and closed it when she sat down. Lena grimaced to see that there was a pane of darkened glass between her and the driver. Robert slid in beside her, knocked on the glass, and the car smoothly pulled away. She took a deep breath.

“So, here we are,” Robert said with a smirk as he leaned back into his seat and stretched his legs out into the empty space. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Lena said, unsure how to continue. The ball had been easier; she’d always been surrounded by people, protected by the herd, so to speak. But here in the back seat of a car…

“You look terrified,” Robert sighed. “Look, could you please relax? You and I both know I’m not going to pounce on you like a hungry lion.”

“You literally said you wanted to…”

Robert held up his hand. “You’re right. I didn’t think I had a chance, so I was saying a lot of things just for the look on your face. I’m sorry.”

Lena blinked. “You’re sorry?” she asked. “For what?”

“For not taking this seriously before.” Robert crossed his arms. “Had I known that I was going to actually court you, I wouldn’t have said those things, because we still have to be in a room together. We have to look like we’re have at least a reasonably good time together. And for that, you have to not look scared that I’m going to pin you to a wall and ravage you at all times.”

“You can’t talk like that anymore, then.” Lena said. “I don’t like it.”

“I got that,” Robert sighed. “But you’re right. I won’t talk like that. I won’t make suggestions. I will only touch your hand, shoulder, or waist as appropriate, unless invited or some kind of need arises.”

Lena frowned. It was hard to believe. But this was the best case scenario, really, as long as he kept his promises. “I’ll believe you, for now,” Lena said, and shifted in her seat, forcing herself to relax. “If you keep those promises, this year will be much more pleasant and fruitful for both of us, I’m sure.”

“Good.” Robert sat forward leaned his chin on a fist, and looked over at her. “So. Now that we’re not in the middle of a crowd of listeners – tell me what you meant that first night by a coup. I’m desperately curious. Are we talking a silent coup? A violent overthrow? A quiet buildup of government allies until everyone is in our favor?”

Lena couldn’t help but laugh – not a giggle, but almost a cough of amusement, and she covered her mouth immediately, but Robert caught it and threw back his head to laugh.

“Sorry,” Lena said. “It’s just that… I don’t expect to be overthrowing anything myself. The legion are going to steamroll San Magnolia once they manage to breach the Gran Mur. I described it as a coup, but it’s going to be more like a rescue operation, I’m sure. Some form of military strategy so we can defend at least some of the people of the republic when the Legion fail to shut down.”

Robert frowned. “Do you have communications?” he asked. “That’s your first order of business.”

Lena only nodded.

“I won’t ask how,” Robert said. “Less I know about that the better. But tell me, do you have any plans for occupied city warfare? You mostly work in abandoned urban, now.”

Lena shook her head. “We’re also missing supply considerations: how to feed, house, treat, clothe, train, order a people who have basically farmed the war out to others and then forgotten it exists.”

“You really think the Gran Mur will fall? Are there any Legion who could do that right now?” Robert asked.

“I don’t know for sure,” Lena said. “But there are signs that new machines are being built – I have the track markings from my unit. So it’s possible there is a unit which could be another new unit. Or they could simply overwhelm us and crawl over. You know what that wall is really for.”

“Hm.” Robert said, rubbing his chin. “Your best bet is to keep them outside the wall. But while we’re catastrophizing, let’s say they have a way to get inside: one way or another. That would entirely change the game. Would you try to save infrastructure at that point?”

“Not homes. Not most buildings. Energy structures, water facilities, food warehouses.” Lena said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to fight.”

“San Magnolia is in a pretty sad state to fight anyway. We’d still need the 86. Wouldn’t they just abandon us?”

“They might. But their fate is tied to ours. Where would they go? As far as we know, no other countries are out there.”

Robert snorted. “I bet they are. If we could make it, with our cowardly strategy, other nations made it too. The Eisneflag just make it impossible to communicate, and most countries aren’t willing to do human experimentation for a communication device.”

Lena eyed Robert doubtfully. He had said it so casually, but that the para-RAID had required fatal human experimentation wasn’t exactly a well-known fact. What else did he know? “I only expect a small amount of 86 to defect or refuse to fight.” She said. “Maybe 5%.”

“Expect more like 50% of the San Magnolian military,” Robert said with certainty, “maybe up to 75%.”

The car stopped before he could go on, and Robert smiled. “I think we have a lot to discuss,” he said. “Shall we hold the discussion until after the show? It will give me time to get my thoughts in order, and you to get your questions ready.”

“That sounds… good,” Lena said slowly, and when Robert helped her out of the car, he touched nothing but her hand, and immediately dropped it to close the door, gesturing for her to walk with him rather than taking her by the waist.

~^~

Chapter Text

Lena received her first love letter from Robert while eating a biscuit in Annette’s lab. The courier looked faintly terrified to be in the room with her and Annette, stuttering as he handed her the blue and silver envelope. “Message from your suitor ma’am,” he said. “He wishes you and your unit a good day today.”

Lena pursed her lips and took the letter. Robert had come up with the method of information passing and she had to admit, it was the perfect cover. No one would bat an eye at a man sending his lady a letter, or even gifts, while at work. Workplace memos could be read.

“Ooo,” Annette said, as if to lend credence to the act. “Love letters and everything. He’s got it bad for you.” She smirked as the courier left. “So what is it, really?”

“I’m not sure,” Lena said, breaking the seal on the envelope and scanning the first page. “He said he was sending something that would help, but not what it was.” It was a standard, if a little straightforward, love letter, thanking Lena for her attention and time at dinner the week before, praising her choice of clothes and her decorum. She shuffled the pages. Beneath the first was another page of writing, this one less dense, and then, with a small click a small computer chip fell from the pages.

Annette scooped it up immediately and stood. “I’ve got a computer that’s not hooked in to the network,” she said by way of explanation.

Powerfully curious, Lena followed her over to a smaller computer which seemed slightly older, as if Annette had simply kept an older model when she received a new one.

Once it was plugged in, Annette clicked into the folders and blinked, moving aside so Lena could read the text.

It was a spreadsheet. At the top, it read 86 in employment of Carthage Corporation and subsidiaries. Along the top were column labels: first name, last name, employment level, spouse name, children’s names, Employment start date, employment end date, address, contact information… Lena glanced at the document information – the spreadsheet was thousands of names long.

“There’s another file,” Annette whispered in a sort of reverence, and opened it.

This one was a simple note document. It read:

I remember you mentioning that you were trying to figure out how many war crimes. Here are about 10,000. This is the document which was turned over to the Government of all 86 employees of the Carthage company. It was the basis of the first draft of builders of the Gran Mur – it wasn’t just the construction workers who were conscripted – it was the engineers, designers, planners, site managers… technically the government of San Magnolia built the Gran Mur, but they sub-contracted Carthage Co. and required that, to get the contract, all workers had to be 86. Since no other company could meet that requirement, Carthage Co. won the contract.

“These are the wall builders,” Lena choked out in disbelief. They hadn’t even bothered to try to find a document like this, but leave it to a corporation like Carthage Co. to keep something like this. “Most of our units are probably listed here as children…”

“Ten thousand,” Annette whispered. “What a horrible jackpot.”

“Does it list cause of death or anything like that?” Lena asked.

Annette scrolled to the side, narrowing her eyes. “No. Just employment end date. Hold on, let me look something up…”

Lena grimaced as Annette bustled to her other computer, clicked around for several minutes, and then returned to the isolated computer. “I have a suspicion that End Employment date actually means something else.” She said. “There was a pretty famous accident on the Gran Mur, where about 50 people, including 3 Alba were buried in a small-scale collapse. It happened on Valentine’s day of the third year the Gran mur was being built. So, if we search this database for all ‘end employment dates’ on valentines day of that year…”

Lena had no idea what, exactly, Annette was doing, but the computer seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then collapsed in on itself. When Annette scrolled, instead of thousands of names, there were 56.

“Damn it.” Annette whispered. “Yeah. End Employment date is date of death.”

Lena swallowed. “Are any of them blank?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” Annette whispered, but made some adjustments to the query. It stalled out for long moments, the mouse icon flickering and jumping around the screen. Finally, it steadied, and Annette shook her head. “No blanks,” she said. “If I remember right, anyone who survived ended up being drafted into the first Jaeger squads, or put into facilities like the one we visited.”

She felt queasy. Shiden’s father was on this list somewhere. Brea’s father had been an architect, it was possible he was listed there too. Most of the 86 in her care had at least one relative who had built the Gran Mur, and now they had their names. She could tell them dates of death, if they wanted it.

“You need to thank Robert,” Annette said softly. “This is a huge amount of information – and someone like Zach will be able to get even more out of it, since he’s specialized in database reporting now.”

“Yeah,” Lena frowned. It was difficult to know how to feel about this. Yes, Carthage had given her these documents, but in the end, that was just information on the past. It wouldn’t save their future. At the same time, this was still a huge step towards something they had been working on for over a year. Zack would love to get his hands on this information. And it gave them something to tell the 86 still alive – they could at least give a date of death, a confirmation that they would not find their loved ones.

“We might even be able to extrapolate some places of death. These on valentines day, year 3, are easy. We know where that collapse took place. So we know where they’re buried.” Annette shook her head. “I’m going to message Zack to meet up. You should ask Carthage if he wants to do a double date with us.”

Lena blinked, turning her head to look at Annette. “A double date?” she asked, trying to work out how Annette had meant it. She hadn’t thought Zack had a shady chance in hell, but maybe she’d been wrong?

“Don’t read into it,” Annette waved a hand. “It will be really convenient, and maybe my aunt will calm the hell down if I act like I’m dating Zack.”

“He likes you,” Lena said, frowning. “It would be cruel to lead him on, wouldn’t it?”

Annette was brought up short, and whirled around. “He what?” she adjusted her glasses.

“He likes you?” Lena repeated, tilting her head. How was she the first one to know about this? She had been sure that Annette already knew. “He told me at the first ball.”

“How in the hell would he even know me well enough to like me?” Annette asked. “We’ve hardly talked about anything but work and this project.”

Lena blinked. “Didn’t you spend a lot of time doing that?”

“Well, yes, but we didn’t really talk about anything else,” Annette grumbled. “I just can’t believe I missed it. And what is he hanging onto anyway? I was definitely not flirting, and I wasn’t trying to be cute or anything. I’m pretty sure I wore a sweatshirt and pajama pants to at least one of our data crunching sessions.”

For someone like Zack, who prized genuine interaction and intelligence, this sounded like a no-brainer to Lena, but Annette apparently could not understand it. “Well, you might want to think about it before suggesting a double date, I guess?” she said. “Or at least make it clear that your acting.”

“Ugh, why are men?” Annette moaned. “He’s nice but he’s not my type at all.” She mumbled. “Then again, considering my type is usually asshole, maybe I shouldn’t brush him off.”

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Lena said. “He didn’t seem to think it was a high chance, so if you have to let him down, I don’t think it would be hard…”

“It’s also a terrible time to like… start anything,” Annette growled. “I mean, we’re all really likely to die in a year.”

“All the more reason to try it?” Lena ventured. “It’s never going to be the right time.”

“How are you the one giving me advice right now?!” Annette whined, and then laughed. “This is ridiculous. We’ve got a list of ten thousand dead people and I’m freaking out about a high schooler with a crush on me.”

“We’re supposed to be in high school too, you know,” Lena said. “And the list is just a list. It doesn’t care if we’re talking about crushes right now.”

“I was part of that list,” Annette retorted. “We were a part of that list. That wall is the only reason San Magnolia could shut everyone out and forget about the war. My father’s lab got people directly from that wall, when they were too injured to work anymore, they would come to us!” Lena pressed her lips together. Annette was shaking as if cold, and rubbed her arms through her lab jacket. “I never realized why the people my father worked with had broken arms or legs all the time. Sometimes they lost their arms and legs. They just told me that the lab was a better place for them because they had been hurt, and they could serve their country here in a different way. But they were really just taking them from one hell to another, and a collapsing wall would have probably been a kinder death than what my father put them through…” she shuddered. “He even let me give them treats sometimes before they went for testing. And then I’d never see them again. All those people who told me I was a sweetheart, who thanked me for candy that put them to sleep sometimes, their names are on there…”

Lena only nodded. “And there’s nothing we can do about that now.” She said.  “There was never anything either of us could do at that point in time. We were babies, Annette. The only thing we can do now is prepare for the next wave, to try to make it better next time. To save as many as we can, now that we can.”

Annette seemed to freeze. She put a hand on her heart and took a deep breath, as if to steady herself. Finally she nodded. “Sorry,” she whispered. “This is all just so fucked up.”

Lena stayed silent, but put a hand on Annette’s shoulder, nodding.  “We didn’t get the same treatment as the 86,” she said softly, “But our parents and government still put us in awful situations. It’s not fair that we had to unlearn so much of what they taught us. But…” she sighed, “Guilt is only useful when it motivates us to do better. I think you’re right. I should introduce you all to Robert. If it got out that he had given us this document, he would be in real trouble. So he’s clearly at least trustworthy enough to be in contact.”

“We can’t talk about the list too much, though,” Annette said, taking the drive out of the computer and unlocking a drawer on the same desk. “We need to start making plans as if the wall will become useless. We need to start figuring out how we’re going to save people. We have to be better.”

“Yes,” Lena said softly, and her heart ached a little. She had benefitted from the Gran Mur, yes. But she hadn’t been involved in the same way as Annette. The only 86 she had interacted with was Shin's brother. But Annette had been raised in a way where the 86 she met were kind to her, and she was glibly kind to in return with the innocence of a child. As an adult she could now look back an realize how cruel it was that she was the 86’s final source of comfort before a tortuous death, that she was the one putting the 86 to sleep for their experiments. An unknowing grim reaper, smiling and handing out candies.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The first unit that was not Brisingamen called in three days after the shipments were meant to arrive. She received the call in the middle of breakfast with her mother, excused herself, and nearly ran to her room, answering breathlessly.

“Go.”

“Bloody Regina?” The voice on the line was Male. “That you?”

“Yes,” Lena said. “Which squadron?”

“You’d know us as Guano,” the man said, his voice bored and a little derisive. “I’m the leader for the moment.”

“What do you call yourselves?” Lena asked immediately. This was the squadron just to the north of Brisingamen. She shouldn’t have been surprised that they called in first, they at least knew that Bloody Regina was real and some scant things about her unit.

There was a long pause. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

Another long pause, then, the rustling of a uniform in motion, as if the man was sitting down. He sighed. “Ketchcrash,” he said. “We call ourselves Ketchcrash.”

“And your name?”

“Call sign is Bat-8.”

“And your name?”

He seemed to think for a moment, then slowly said, “I’d rather not have another white pig desecrate my name.”

“Very well,” Lena said, ignoring the jab. He was testing her, and rightfully so, just like Brisingamen had done. “When you are ready to trust me with trying, I am willing.”  He said nothing. Lena scribbled in her notebook to track the squads who had checked in. “I won’t waste your time, Ketchcrash leader. This call is to inform you that this Para-RAID channel is secret. I am acting directly in opposition to San Magnolia’s orders and could be tried and jailed for reaching out in this manner. However, I believe it is important for the 86 to know that the Legion will not shut down in a year. San Magnolia does not believe me, so I am planning without its support. This is a check-in call. Once I have a quorum of check-ins, I will set up a battle-planning call so that all front-line 86 know what to do in the event of a Legion incursion.”

“You really think the 86 will fight if the Legion break through the Gran Mur?” Ketchcrash leader snorted. “That’s rich.”

“I do not expect the 86 to come to our aid,” Lena said firmly. “But for those who will, I want to offer support and planning.”

“Why should we help you?” he snorted. “You know, it’s real rich of you to come on here, declare that the war they promised would end isn’t going to end, and then say ‘oh but don’t worry, I have a plan!’. Give me a break. You’ve got nothing but an inflated sense of ego.”

Lena did not dwell on his words, only accepted them. He was not wrong. It was only an inflated sense of ego which had brought her to military service in the first place – she saw that now. None of his words were revelations, but he had to say them, and that was understandable. “I recognize that you may not appreciate my aide. That is entirely understandable. I will contact your unit when we have quorum.”

“Whatever, do what you want,” the leader muttered. “Your kind always do.”

~^~

“How many units have checked in so far?” Shiden asked on their call later that week.

Lena sighed. “About forty,” she said. They had called in day and night. One called in at two am – and seemed very surprised when she answered.

“That’s better than we anticipated,” Shiden said. “How have they been?”

Lena rubbed her face a few times. It had been an exhausting week, and her heart hurt a little at the number of people younger than her who had called in. “Some angry. Some bored and don’t believe me. Some just accept it. I don’t know if I’m making a difference, but I just try to accept whatever they say and tell them about the bigger meeting to come.”

“I was thinking about it, Handler One,” Shana piped up. Lena tried not to wince. Any more she dislike being called ‘Handler’ since most of the people who called her that were her superiors. “Can you set up a channel that simply plays a message on loop? Then people could call in, hear the message, and you wouldn’t have to deal with them quite so often.”

Lena paused, staring up at the ceiling and frowning. “That would be really easy,” she murmured. “Good idea, Shana. I’ll ask Annette if it’s possible.”

“By the way, how’s the courting going?” Shiden asked. “Is he an asshole?”

Lena coughed. “Well, I’m not enjoying it,” she said, “But he’s useful.” She hadn’t told them about the list that Robert gave her, unsure how to bring it up, unsure if it would be useful. Wouldn’t it simply bring up more terrible memories? Would it even help to know what had happened on the wall? Lena closed her eyes for a moment, and tried to think – what if she hadn’t been in the 86^th sector when her father died? What if she didn’t know exactly what had happened to him? Would she have wanted to know?

“Who is he, anyway?” Shiden was saying. “You cut him out of all the newspaper clippings you sent, so it didn’t say.”

“He’s the heir of the Carthage company,” Lena said, and listened closely to see whether Shiden or Shana reacted.

There was a tiny intake of breath – she wasn’t sure who it was. But then, Shana whispered, “The one who built the wall?”

“Yes,” Lena said.

“Majesty…” Shiden nearly growled. “What the…”

“He gave us the list of all 86 drafted into building the Gran Mur,” Lena said softly. “It has names, professions, start dates, and what we think are the date of death. But to be honest, I’m not sure what to do with it”

This time, it was definitely Shiden who choked. “He gave you what?” She hissed.

“Shiden, calm down,” Shana snapped. “Handler one, that’s very valuable information to us. Both of my parents were drafted into wall-building. Can you search their names?”

“If you tell me how to spell them, yes,” Lena said. “Is that something you want?”

“Yes,” Shana said with certainty. “They left when I was only 3. I don’t know anything about them except their names. I want to know their professions.”

Lena blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her that some of the 86 would know that little about their parents. “Give me the spellings, and I’ll let you know what their profession was if they are on there.”

“No, don’t gloss over this, Shana!” Shiden spat, “You realize that she’s dating the heir of the company that tore our families up!?”

“Of course she is,” Shana said evenly. “If she can get this kind of information out of him, she should be dating him.”

“He’s got so much blood on his hands!” Shiden’s voice trembled with fury. “Baked into every bit of him!”

“And I don’t?” Lena asked simply.

“You’re different, Majesty, you-,”

“I’m not that different,” Lena interrupted. “Believe me, a lot of the 86 who’ve called me this week have made that very clear.”

“But you’re trying,” Shiden said, and Lena could hear the slight whine of knowing she was losing an argument, knowing she was wrong but couldn’t admit it.

“And so is he, if he’s given her that list,” Shana said. “We know damn well they’re all the same, Shiden. That’s half the problem.”

Shiden simply left the conversation, her para-RAID going silent. Lena sat in silence with Shana for a moment, before the second-in-command sighed. “She’s so emotional.”

“It’s fine,” Lena said. “I was expecting something like that.”

“She’s scared that you’ll go back to being like the rest of the white pigs,” Shana said quietly. “Especially when she’s got you so high on a…” she cut off, seeming to reconsider her words. “Never mind. She’ll come around, Handler one.”

~^~

Chapter Text

~^~

“You look exhausted lately,” Robert said as they waited for dessert. “Why don’t we take the day off tomorrow and go to a spa together?”

Lena was half-asleep in her chair, but tried to rouse for that suggestion. “Can’t… gotta…” she frowned. What did she need to do again?

“No, you don’t.” Robert sighed. “I’m not saying turn your para-RAID off. But that’s the beauty of working with a remote force. Unlike me, you don’t really have to be in the office to deal with anything but a battle, and your squad is perfectly capable of handling things without you for a day.”

“They’re working hard out there,” Lena said. “I can’t just…”

“That’s a logical fallacy,” Robert interrupted her. “You’re working hard signing papers in an office isn’t going to ease their day at all. You’ve already sent your care shipment for the week, and you have your big meeting coming up. You need to rest.”

Lena blinked at him. Was this simply a ploy to get her in a controlled space unclothed with him? What was his game?

Robert sighed in exasperation. “A couples spa doesn’t let you be in the same room naked, Lena,” he said, as if reading her mind. “And you can’t pour from an empty cup.”

“What does that mean?” She was exhausted. Her shoulders were constantly tense from sitting in her chair for hours on end – searching names in the database, calling battle information, taking called from squad leaders at all times day and night… she was constantly near falling asleep in her chair whenever she sat down.

“Seriously?” Robert asked. “You’ve never heard that saying? It just means that if you give too much of yourself, you’ll hit a wall and be unable to give any more. Your body will shut you down, no matter how much you want to help.”

“I can’t rest,” she said softly. “I feel guilty.”

“Oh come on,” Robert snorted. “You’re the last one who should feel guilty in this city. I get it, guilt is a good motivator, but not when it eats you alive. Besides, there’s no guilt in rest. It’s like food.”

Lena was silent.

“Don’t tell me you feel guilty about food, too?” Robert asked, and then rolled his eyes so hard his shoulders leaned to the side. “Idiot. Starving yourself of food and rest doesn’t do shit for your unit but give them a starved and exhausted commander. Believe me, I’m in Logistics. There is nothing you can do for your unit in the immediate case of tomorrow. There is no action you could take by going into the office tomorrow which would save a life or ease suffering. So you might as well rest up. After all, you have a lot of people who hate you to convince to come help us in 9 months.”

Damn it. He was right. Why was he the one giving her this pep talk? Wasn’t she the one always telling others that guilt was essentially useless? Lena heaved a sigh. “You’re right,” she said. “I need to take care of myself. Which spa were you thinking?”

“That’s more like it,” Robert said. “I have a great place.”

~^~

“She called into work already,” Annette said quietly, handing Robert a drink in her lab. “Thanks for the help, Carthage.”

“You were right about her being a stubborn dumb-ass.” His tone was gruff but Annette thought she detected a hint of fondness. He gulped the imitation whiskey in one shot, holding out his cup for another, which she obliged. “You were also right about her being exhausted. She barely put up a fight.”

“How are things going with the soldiers?” She asked, sipping on her glass.

“They put me in charge of drills,” Carthage said. “They’re all bumbling idiots, just like Lena said, but by next year, we might have a reasonable fighting force. I’ve been pushing them pretty hard – working on my drill sergeant voice. How’s Zack?”

“Fighting an unfair grade,” Annette said. “We expected them to find a way to prevent him from being valedictorian, but they did it with an accusation of plagiarism.”

“Ouch,” Carthage was staring into the middle distance, fingers dancing across the glass in his hands. They lapsed into silence for a long moment. “It's a little late to ask now, I guess, but you really think the legion’s gonna keep going?”

Annette glanced at him, and for a moment, he actually looked her age despite never really acting the part – a teenaged boy contemplating his own death – vulnerable and frightened. In that way, Carthage and Lena were the same. She was the same, she supposed. They should all be in school, she and Lena giggling about boys in the cafeteria, Carthage maybe going out for football or soccer. Instead they were all here, fighting a silent war-beneath-a-war. Annette looked down into her glass. She shouldn’t even have this whiskey imitation – it had belonged to her parents and she had only just taken up drinking it on occasion. She couldn’t buy it, she wasn’t old enough. She took a drink, gulped it down, failed to wince.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sure of it, now. Everything Shin told us checks out, technology wise, and the legion parts we’ve smuggled back support that they’ve been developing new technology over the course of the war that we weren't tracking.” She shook her head. “I’ve got samples on samples that I’ve shown to the brass – they don’t get it. I’ve got logs to show that the machines are demonstrating more than enough learning to get around their shut down date. We’ve got calculations that show the number of legion we’ve killed so far and the number we still see – the entire force has turned over twice over by now – they’re producing new units without that shut down code…” she swallowed, suddenly choked up. “And I’ve shown the calculations to other scientists, and they all say they see it. They all say they know it, that they’ve seen the same thing and said the same things as me. But no one’s doing anything about it. No one is admitting it. So we’re just… sitting here, waiting for the hammer to drop.” She blinked away tears, taking another drink. “Sorry.”

His hand was warm and heavy on her shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Annette whispered, trying to take a breath, but it hitched on the back of her throat. She wiped the tears from her eyes again and covered her mouth to breathe through her nose, but that only seemed to bring the tears on harder. “It’s just so hopeless, Robert. We could have done something. We could have been something. The country could have kept innovating the Juggernaut from the beginning – we could have studied the legion’s remains and actually made drones. There were brilliant scientists among the 86 – I met some of them! They could have helped us. We didn’t have to be here! We never had to be here, just a handful of us knowing that the legion are going to flood the country in nine months. But some people just wanted to sweep an entire war under the rug, put it in a box and forget about it so they could keep making money, like sniveling cowards and now it’s been dumped in our laps.” She hiccupped, tears now streaming down her cheeks, and at this point there was no wiping them away.

Even Lena didn’t understand exactly how bad it was. Seeing what happened to Zack, she only saw someone being punished for speaking the truth, but didn't realize what that meant for the rest of class who had blithely made impossible calculations on the Juggernaut's processor size and weight and then been rewarded for those faulty calculations. How would those same students make calculations on things that mattered - water towers, pipe pressures, automatons - now?

Lena didn't understand how San Magnolia had cannibalized itself. She only saw the injustice of the 86’s incarceration and drafting. She didn’t see how science had desperately tried to sound the alarm, offered solutions that didn’t involve decimating a population. She didn’t see the ways that scientists had shouted, yelled, screamed until they were silenced – the shocking number of Alban Engineers, Data Scientists, and researchers who had been sent to build the Gran Mur. Pages on pages of clearly Alban names - all of them listed as scientists of one stripe or another, all of them dead in the first year of building. Lena didn’t know what it meant, didn't understand how the death of science had impacted San Magnolia. 

She would have assumed they were sent there simply because they were Colorata sympathizers.

It was more than that they had been sympathizers. They had offered alternatives.

When Annette had finally cried herself silent, Robert enveloped her in a hug, tucking her head into his shoulder, and held her close, silent.

When she finally straightened, Annette expected his face to be there, expected him to be waiting for a kiss, or sex. But instead he stood and put his hands in his pockets, looking almost sheepish. He cleared his throat. “You should rest, too,” he said. “That spreadsheet is brutal.”

Annette blinked, realizing abruptly that he knew. He knew the tragedy the spreadsheet laid bare. “Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t drink too much,” He said, and turned, “I’ll see you later.”

Chapter Text

“You’re doing it again, Lena,” Annette said over breakfast. She wielded her spoon like a baton, pointing it at Lena accusingly. “You aren’t sleeping. Do I need to get Robert to make you take a day off again?”

“I’m fine,” Lena said, squinting at Annette. “You put Robert up to that?”

“Of course I did,” Annette said with a sniff. “You don’t listen to your friends very well when it comes to work, so I used your enemy instead.” She sighed. “You need to give some of your tasks to someone else. Aren’t you doing some simple but time-consuming things that Zach or even Robert could do?”

Lena frowned. The idea of Robert, or even Zach, taking over any of her tasks was unappealing to say the least, but she had to admit that Annette wasn’t wrong. She did have some repetitive, low-expertise tasks that had to be done, but didn’t necessarily need to be done by her. “I suppose someone could take over creating dummy recordings,” she murmured, “but I usually just do that while I’m reviewing reports and meetings, so it’s not…”

“But it’s still brainpower you could be spending on other things,” Annette interrupted. “Good. Anything else you can give up?”

“You took over everything with the spreadsheet,” Lena said, “I could probably put the war crimes information gathering more on the backburner or to someone else, but isn’t Zach finishing school? He must be busy.”

Annette sighed. She hadn’t had the heart to tell Lena everything that Zach had been forced to give up on lately. Not only had he been relieved of valedictorian, but several internships and job opportunities had been quietly rescinded. At the same time, though, he’d quietly found and recruited an entire class worth of dissenters, people who had an inkling that the next revolution day might be terrible and were willing to listen to ways to prepare for it. Every able hand counted, and thirty-odd able hands was more than they had ever thought they would get. Zach was a valuable resource, who had other valuable resources at his disposal. “He’s no longer fighting for valedictorian, that boy you danced with at the ball has it in the bag, now. So he’s freer than you’d think.  I think you could give the task of organizing and preparing that information to him, so long as you told him where to hide it.”

Lena nodded. “But who would do the recordings? I don’t think Zach is a good candidate. He’d drive Shiden crazy, and Shiden or Shana have to be listening.”

“Give it to Robert,” Annette said, shrugging. “He knows how to search the spreadsheet, and he can create footage while checking names for the 86. Plus, I honestly think they won’t mind him.”

“I’ve no idea why you think that,” Lena muttered, perching her chin on a fist. “He still makes me itchy.”

Annette had to admit that she was impressed by Lena’s ability to hold a grudge. Then again, Robert had been a burr in her side for many years, it wasn’t actually that surprising Lena refused to trust him. “At least ask if he’d do it. And ask Shiden and Shana if they mind.”

“All right,” Lena sighed, and pulled herself to her feet. She rubbed her eyes. “At least then I won’t be up as late recording.”

“We’re almost to the point where you might as well forget it,” Annette shook her head. “I don’t think anyone’s paying attention now that we’re less than 6 months away from it.”

“If they threw us in jail now, it would be a disaster,” Lena said, shaking her head. “And if Robert is picking it up, that’ll be a big help.” She sighed. “I guess the war crimes information can wait until we survive revolution day.”

“That’s the spirit,” Annette said. “Now, promise me you’ll take a nap today.”

“I’ll try,” Lena said softly, and shook her head. “Can you tell Robert about the recording and show him how to do it? I’ll talk to Shiden and Shana.”

~^~

They had never really talked to anyone outside of Lena, save a few introductions. Shiden was a little more moody than usual that night, even though they had just talked to her, she still begrudged any time she didn’t get to hear that silver-belled voice. Mostly, Shana thought, she didn’t really want to deal with learning a new person’s mannerisms and rudeness over the para-RAID, much less someone the Major fairly openly disliked. At least, it had very much sounded like Lena disliked him when she explained that she needed this man to take over the recordings.

“So, what was your last name again?” Shiden asked the line as they worked on chores while recording on the line with the new guy. “All I got was Robert.”

“Carthage,” the man said simply. “Robert Carthage.”

Shana blinked. “Wait, aren’t you the one…”

“You were in the newspaper her Majesty sent us!” Shiden sputtered.

“…I’m sorry, Her who?” Robert asked, and Shana detected just the barest hint of delight in his tone.

“You’re the one who was hounding Lena.” Shana said, trying to move past their nickname for Lena.

“No, no, you’re not brushing that off,” Robert chuckled. “One of you said her majesty? Where the hell did that name come from?”

“It’s a joke,” Shiden said. “She told us her full name and we thought it sounded like a namby-pamby royal.”

“Well, yeah, it’s from the original San-Magnolia line- ohhh.” Robert snorted. “I see your point. So you’re making fun of her when you say that.”

“Well, depending on your point of view,” Shana said. “She also hates being called Handler, so it’s a good stand-in.”

“Well, I suppose that’s good to know. So, what do you usually talk about on these calls?” Robert asked, and Shana heard him stretch out in a squeaky chair. “I could read you shipping manifests, but I’d rather actually talk to you, since I’ve never actually gotten the chance to talk to real 86.”

Shana and Shiden traded looks, suddenly cautious. “Never?” Shiden asked. “Even before the wall?”

“I’m a rich boy,” Robert said, and the way he stated it – as a matter of fact rather than something to be ashamed of – did nothing for their sense of caution, but at least he was being factual. “Everything about the war was heard from my father’s office up until half a year ago.”

“Are you the one who gave Lena the spreadsheet?” Shana asked suddenly. “Carthage Corporation built the Gran Mur.”

“Yeah,” Robert said, almost dreamily, “and if my father finds out I stole it, I can kiss my inheritance bon voyage. Ha. I probably shouldn’t talk about it on this recording, but oh well.”

“Do you have any other information about that time period?” Shana asked. “Like arrest files or something?”

“Nah, Carthage Corporation didn’t have anything to do with the mass arrests other than supporting the politicians who made it happen. And since it was the police rather than the military, I can’t hack into the systems either. That would be more Annette’s thing – she’s keeping track of our recruits and where they work.”

They spent the evening pelting Robert with questions. To his credit, Robert never lost his cool, almost lackadaisical attitude. He was as steady and calm as an elephant in the rain, answering all of their questions with nothing more than a few moments of thought. They asked him about the balls (fun, but always stuffy.) and about his role in Lena’s plan the previous revolution day (Actually, you’re telling me more than I’ve known up until now. I never asked how they hacked the para-RAID, and at the time, Lena just needed a way up to her office to help you all through an attack and some first aid.) As soon as Shiden realized exactly which attack Robert had gotten Lena to the office for, she left the call, muttering to Shana that she felt tired and was going to bed.

“What’s her deal?” Robert asked after Shiden had left.

“You mentioned our last fatality,” Shana said with pursed lips. How could he have known what a terrible day that was? To him, it was just a ball. Still, Lena had never mentioned what she’d had to promise in order to come to their aide, and now it was clear why their handler disliked Robert so much. “We were in a lot of trouble that day. It’s a miracle we only lost Brea.”

“Ah, yeah, I remember. Lena was pretty shaken…” he trailed off, then cleared his throat. “First time I realized what a damn stubborn maverick she is, though. I threatened her that night, and she just looked at me like I was a gnat.”

Privately, Shana wondered if that’s what did it for Alban men.

“Anyway, my turn to ask a question,” Robert said. “I’m training the militia here in the juggernauts we have on hand with an eye to combat when the Legion enter the city. What should I focus on? How can I get the best survival chances out of them?”

Shana blinked. “I’ll need more information about where you’re starting to make any recommendations for where to go.”

“Ask away,” Robert said. “I aim to get three hours on the books tonight and tomorrow.”

Shana settled into a seat in the common area, readying herself to talk for a good long while.

~^~

Chapter Text

“Ok, did you get the plans?” Robert asked as he settled into his seat for the night.

“Shiden is still checking in with Lena,” Shana said. “Did you send everything?”

“Yeah, everything should be in there.”

“Good. And how are the drills I gave you coming along?”

“Mixed,” Robert said, frowning into the fireplace of his apartment. “You know, I thought Lena was exaggerating about how ill-prepared our people were, but turns out it’s worse than I could have imagined. They all say that the Legion are shutting down anyway, so why bother with drills?”

Shana was silent for a moment, and after several weeks of talking to her or Shiden almost nightly, Robert could tell that she was thinking about how to phrase something, or what was best to say. Shiden was impressive as a fighter – he had seen her records and listened to the way she commanded Brisingamen – in fact he’d learned quite a lot from listening to how Lena fed information to Shiden and Shiden acted on that information. But Shana was more thoughtful and considering. She nearly always chose her words carefully and with thorough intention. In a way, he liked talking to Shana better – there was less chance that she would just cut the line and leave like Shiden tended to, though he was starting to suspect he knew why that was happening.

Finally, Shana spoke. “Have you considered steering their motivation towards something else?”

Robert frowned. “Like what?”

“San Magnolia operates based on fear and hate. They hate the legion, sure, but if they believe the legion will shut down, then they no longer fear them, and thus they won’t work to beat them. So, what else can you make them hate and fear?”

Robert caught his breath. She knew the answer as well as he did – he was certain of it. “If you’re going to be allies, I can’t turn the 86 into the targets for them to train on.”

“Why not?” Shana asked, and there was no emotion, no trace of surprise, derision, or appreciation. “Your country has already done 90% of the work. All you would need to do is remind them that we’re out here – fully armed, prepared to strike at them as soon as the legion switch off. After all, why wouldn’t we, if we could? It would work.”

“That may be, but if they think of you as enemies, how are they going to react when you come rolling into the city to help us?”

“They’ll probably be dead by then. Brisingamen is stationed several hours from the city – the legion will beat us in.”

“What if they believe that it’s a trick, and the Legion are the 86, come to take revenge?”

There was a moment of silence, and then a sigh. “You’re right,” Shana muttered. “They might not be able to tell the difference.”

Robert breathed a sigh of relief and sat back again. “Besides, Lena would never let me use that strategy.”

“That’s true.” Shana chuckled. “What if you used the Empire instead? Do San Magnolian citizens believe that all of the Empire is dead?”

“No, that probably would back-fire too – the big conspiracy is that the 86 are Empire spies.” Robert rubbed his chin, “However… I probably could concoct a conspiracy about another country. There’s one to the north that we had some sketchy relationships with pretty far in the past. We haven’t heard from them in years, but if I make something up about them aiming to take over our lands when the Legion shut down…” Robert smirked. “Well, a lot of them are planning to be the first to settle those lands.”

“So they already feel like they own them,” Shana said. “That could work. You’d need to make sure the rumor isn’t sourced back to you though.”

“Money helps, there,” Robert said with a smirk. “Thanks for the idea.”

~^~

“You’ve been working more and harder lately, Carthage,”  his supervisor stood in the door, arms folded with a smirk. “Saving up for something?” He waggled his fingers, pointing to the ring finger.

Robert froze. On the line with him, Shiden also froze. Shit. It was 11 o’clock at night, what was his commander doing here? Had he heard Robert talking to Shiden? Could he see the para-RAID under his collar? He was in supply, there was no reason for him to have an active para-RAID right now. Carefully, Robert straightened, tousling his hair.

It had nearly been 8 months since he started “courting” Lena. Best to let him feel like he’d caught Robert in something silly rather than the real story. Shiden was dead silent.

Still, didn’t this guy know that he already owned some 5 companies through his father? He was rich enough to buy his superior as an errand boy and pay him handsomely for his time. His father had insisted on military service or school until he was twenty-two – military service had offered more connections, so he had chosen it. Maybe he’d forgotten entirely. Still, it didn’t do him any good to grind in the fact that he didn’t need to work for a living, and he needed his commander to leave so he grinned. “Caught me. Been saving since the first date.”

“So you’re actually going to bag Loony Lena?” the commander shook his head. “Damn Carthage, if I didn’t know you had a good head on your shoulders, I’d question your sanity.”

He took a deep breath. Hopefully Shiden didn’t hit the roof. “Well sir, you wouldn’t if you’d ever seen her naked,” Robert replied.

Was it crude? Yes.

Was it harmful to Lena? Yes.

Would it end the conversation quickly? Also yes.

Sure enough, with a raucous laugh, the commander slapped him on the back, missing the para-RAID around his neck by several inches but still making Robert wince. “Well, good luck, Carthage. You’ll have to tell me about it over drinks some time. I don’t have the patience for that kind of crazy, but I guess that’s the energy of youth.”

“Thank you, sir,” Robert said. “Have a good night.”

“Don’t stay too late,” his commander said, and closed the door behind him. Robert waited for half a minute, and then let out his breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” Shiden said. “Good save.”

“Sorry you had to hear it,” Robert murmured. “Figured it was the best way to get him out of here.”

“Well, it worked,” Shiden said. “Though, aren’t you a rich boy? Why did he think you have to save for a ring?”

“Because I work very hard to make myself approachable to influential men,” Robert said flatly. “And it helps if you talk about women the same way they do.”

“She did say you were a pig. How much of it is an act?”

Robert chuckled. “She’s right. But also, it’s always been an act. The problem was that until about a year ago, I believed the act. Didn’t even see that it was an act.” He sighed, looking up. “I guess talking to you and Shana and Annette has really made me see how staged everything in this country is. I’m not sure we can fix it, to be honest.”

“Neither am I. But if Lena is still fighting, I’ll follow her.”

Robert frowned for a few moments into the darkness of the supply shelves, and then finally ventured. “Hey. You’re totally in love with her, aren’t you, Shiden?”

“Don’t say that on recording.”

“She doesn’t listen to them.”

“What about the scientist lady?”

Robert snorted. “I’ve got no doubt she already knows. You can’t get shit past Annette.”

Shiden sighed. “Doesn’t matter, even if I was.”

“You’ve got a better chance than me,” Robert said.

“No. It’s not that she’d turn me down, even though I bet she would.” Shiden paused, her voice husky. “I made a promise not to go after her without someone else. And she’s dead. So I don’t think I could ever…” Shiden shifted, sighed. “So, are you in love with Lena, too?”

Robert considered for a few moments. “I guess it doesn’t matter for me, either.”

“If anyone could believe in people changing it’s Lena,” Shiden said. “She’s changed these past two years too. She’s forced people to change.”

“She doesn’t want someone she has to change,” Robert murmured. “She doesn’t even want someone who will actively change her.”

“Who does? That’s a shitty basis for a relationship.” Shiden replied. “She doesn’t want change – she wants growth. Those aren’t the same thing.”

“Exactly. I don’t feel like I’ve grown,” Robert shook his head. “Growth is starting from a seedling mindset and building nuance into that mindset. I feel like I’ve changed – my ideals have completely flipped. If I had time, I could grow now, but it's too late. I’ve done too much damage to her. I could never expect to ever earn her trust.”

“You know, if this is all wrong, and the Legion do shut down in two months, she’s going to marry you.” Shiden said. “She promised. And it would give her political power.”

“Nothing would give her political power here,” Robert pressed his lips together. He’d talked to minister Ahrendale. Just as Lena had said, the house didn’t want her as an actual politican – they just wanted a token – a woman to look pretty, smile, and talk about how far women had come in the realm of politics. It made him sick, knowing how terrifyingly capable Lena was, to think of her doing such a thing.

“Not true power, anyway. If the legion really do shut down, I wouldn’t let her marry me. It would only make her toothless. Part of her power comes from men imagining that they could tame her. If she married me, she might be able to create shadow power by pulling the strings of her companies and mine… but that’s not what she should be doing. She should be at the helm as a goddess, creating paths for the rest of us to walk in her image…” he trailed off, surprised to feel his chest and throat tight with emotion.

“Fuck, man,” Shiden whispered, and said nothing else. They sat in silence for nearly two minutes.

Robert cleared his throat. “Well, it’s a moot point. I’ve seen the evidence. Come revolutionary day, the Legion will come for us. I don’t like our chances, but at least chances exist.”

“Yeah,” Shiden murmured. “At least the chance exists.”

They settled into another, now more comfortable silence, Robert sitting in the dark and contemplating his hands. Annette had said they didn’t have to talk the whole time – just a reasonable portion, and Shiden seemed lost in her own thoughts as well. And then, from somewhere far back in the shelves, there was the familiar shlick of a box being slid off the shelves, and the clack of a wheel.

“Yo, Cyclops,” Robert murmured softly, sitting up and looking back into the warehouse where the sound had come from. “I think I’ve got rats.”

~^~

Chapter Text

“That so?” Shiden asked. “Need me to bounce?”

“Up to you,” Robert reached over, flicked the lights off, plunging the large room into utter and complete darkness. He sat back, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Depending on their reaction to the lights going off, he’d know whether they were amateurs or professionals. The intruders must have snuck in when he and Shiden were being silent – they hadn’t known he was even there, so he was betting amateurs who would freak out with the pitch black. Sucked to be them.

But even so, he had to wonder, what was their aim? Why were they here?

There was a bang and a clatter, then a gasp and a small scream. Two sets of footsteps – maybe three. Definitely amateurs. Hopefully just two – he was fairly confident in his ability to overcome two people when he had the drop on them in the dark, but three was a tough sell.

“Should I call Lena?” Shiden asked from the para-RAID. Robert shook his head. The para-RAID wasn’t supposed to transmit feelings and sensations except for hearing, but he was fairly sure that things leaked through – it was just too easy to intuit things over para-RAID for it to not be leaking other information. Just as he expected, Shiden gave a small huff. “If you lose, I’m going to make fun of you, later.”

Robert kept himself from snorting as he peeked around the corner of a long row of large shelves which housed palettes of Ready-to-Eat field meals. It was enough food to feed an army for a year – or a city for a few weeks. He’d been squirrelling it away for the entire time he and Lena had been ‘dating.’ And yet here was a pair of what looked like teenagers, both standing as close to the warehouse shelving as possible, murmuring to each other as they looked up at one of the boxes labelled RTE – SPOILED.

It wasn’t spoiled at all, of course. He’d made that declaration when it became clear that the higher ups didn’t care about expiration - even their dumb asses realized that the 86 could starve or they could fight – they couldn’t do both. So, he’d needed to get creative to set aside for the impending invasion.

“Come on, we gotta go!” the first figure was whispering. “Look at it later!”

“This is our chance to grab it,” the first whispered back. “He was just shutting down for the night, stop being so paranoid!”

“It says it’s spoiled right there on the box!”

“It’s a lie, idiot, I told you they were hoarding! See?” the first figure held out one of the meals in a bag. Robert still couldn’t quite make out the faces, but the silhouettes were easy to decipher thanks to a tiny glow from the figure that held the meal – probably an emergency light of some kind. From their voices, they were young – younger than him and probably younger than Lena too. From their builds, it was a boy and a girl. Interns, he’d guess. Their badges didn’t get them into the building this late at night, but they may have hidden out and waited until after midnight.

Sheesh. These rats weren't even as subtle as real rats. Now that he’d established they were young, and completely inexperienced, he could act… but why were they here? If they were interns, there was no need for them to be stealing food – they would have been from good enough families to have food aplenty, plus they had their own pay. He stayed where he was.

“Fine, fine, I’ll fill this bag. I’ll sneak them in the next shipment.” Robert could see the boy glancing around and held his breath, but he relaxed after another look around.

“We’ve gotta think bigger than that,” said the girl. “A bag isn’t going to give them enough food to get away.”

“Well then you should have thought of that before we hid out in the warehouse. This is what we can do right now!” the boy hissed, pulling himself up to the second shelf of the warehouse unit. “Pass me the bag.”

“I guess you have to do what you can with what you have,” the girl said. “Here.”

So they were stealing food to sneak into shipments to the 86?

“Sheesh,” Shiden remarked in his ear. “Did they really say enough food to get away? Where do they think away is?”

 Robert couldn’t say it right then, but he suspected that he understood where they’d gotten the notion. According to the news, all other countries had fallen in the flames of war but San Magnolia, standing strong amidst the onslaught by the grace of their superior intellect in creating the drones. But the truth was that they had no idea which countries had survived – it was impossible to communicate without specialized equipment that had to be owned by both parties. If a young person found that out with little other context, with no history of how the 86 had been ground down and leashed to the republic by sheer promise of mutual destruction… he could see why they might think that all the 86 needed was the means to strike out and abandon San Magnolia.

The two had apparently forgotten all about the potential to be caught, and while the boy grabbed handfuls of RTE meals and handed them down to the girl, she neatly stacked them into a large duffel bag. Robert shook his head. The whole bag would feed five people for about ten days, if that. It wasn’t enough to make a dent in any one’s escape plans.

“Ok, ten more,” the girl said, crouching next to the bag, and Robert decided that it was about time to do something, if only to make sure that the two didn’t try this when someone less sympathetic was on duty.

He flicked on his flashlight, directing it right into the girl’s eyes as she looked up with a small shriek. The boy shouted, standing up and Robert could hear his head bang on to the grate above him, and he groaned, falling to his knees and pitching to the side.

The girl shouted again. “Brayden!” and darted to try and catch the boy. Robert took the remaining steps to the two at a run, caught Brayden around the shoulders, and slid him to the floor against his body as the girl looked up at him with all the decisiveness of a deer in the headlights – to run and leave Brayden here, or stay and keep her friend safe?

Good grief, it was a really good thing it was him and not someone else here tonight. Better that they hadn’t been caught. If they were this bad at sneaking in and around, how were they planning to get the meals into a shipment?

“Let him go!” the girl shouted. Her hair was in braids to either side of her face. She was wearing a cadet’s uniform, and now that he could see her more clearly, she was much younger than he’d originally thought – maybe thirteen. “You have to let him go!”

“Sweetheart, you’re trespassing. I don’t have to do shit.” He drawled. “Besides, Brayden here is nearly unconscious. He really needs to be checked for a concussion.”

“Of course he is! You dropped him! I saw it!”

Robert sighed. “Yeah, to save my back, I let him down onto the ground. Look, what’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you!” She spat, and Robert wondered what in the world her game was as he trained the flashlight on her and found a nametag.

“Reyander,” he said. “Your last name, anyway.” When she recoiled in horror, he pointed. “Taking your nametag off would help your cause.”

“Wow.” Shiden interjected. “How old are they?”

“Middle school,” Robert said as if he was musing to himself. “Twelve or thirteen.”

“Ugh,” Shiden groaned. “So they’ve got superhero syndrome.”

Reyander floundered in horror as Robert crouched and inspected Brayden. “Hey,” he said, “can you hear me, Brayden?”

There was a groan for the boy, and Robert let out a breath. It would have been really tough if he’d actually been unconscious. “Ok. Can you open your eyes so I can see if you’re concussed? I really need to know if you need the hospital.”

“You can’t take him to a hospital!” Reyander shouted, lunging forward to bat at his shoulder. Robert quickly dropped his hands from Brayden’s shoulder, loathe to jostle him. “They’re report the injury!”

“You’ve already been caught stealing from the warehouse,” Robert said evenly. “it’s a little late to be worrying about that.”

“Oh yeah?” Reyander said, and sat back on her knees. “Well, we already caught you mislabeling goods as spoiled! Bet the supply captain won’t be happy about that, now will they?” She pointed an accusing finger at him.

Shiden was still on the line, and now she was giggling like a school-girl. “I wish I could see your face right now!”

“Thanks for the support,” he grumbled to the side. To Reyander, he said, “I’m the supply captain. Those meals are spoiled by radiation from improper storage. Spoiled is different from expired – don’t you know that?”

The girl’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked. “So we stole them for nothing?”

“Don’t admit that you stole them, dimwit!” Shiden pealed with laughter from the para-RAID.

“Who were you stealing them for?” Robert asked gently, taking off his coat and rolling it up to put under Brayden’s neck. “The 86?”

“Don’t call them that!” Reyander snapped. “They’re Colorata.”

“We’re both, actually,” Shiden drawled. “She ever talked to one of us?”

Hold on. Where had a pair of middle schoolers gotten the idea to steal RTE foods from a spoiled box anyway? “Why were you stealing meals for them?” Robert asked, narrowing his eyes. “Did one of them ask you to?”

When the war first started and the 86 were still being hunted, sometimes sting operations had been run to ferret out Alba who were sympathetic to the 86 by having someone pose as an 86 on a message board or through a door. They would tell of starvation and beg the Alba for food, and when the Abla brought it, the string trap would close. Or, sometimes it would stay open, asking the Alba for more and more things, and more and more information about who else was helping the “86”.

“We won’t reveal our sources,” Reyander folded her arms and pursed her lips. “You can’t make us.”

“Nope, sure can’t,” Robert said, and leaned over Brayden to open one of his eyes. He moved the flashlight back and forth. Nothing. He sighed and sat back.

“Hey, Shiden. I gotta call Annette. Talk to you later?”

“He concussed then?” Shiden asked.

“Seems that way.”

“Why don’t you call Lena? She knows an underground doctor.”

“I’d rather keep it in-house. Can’t do much for a concussion other than rest and monitor anyway.”

“Over and out, then.”

“Who was that?” Reyander demanded.

“Why would I tell an intruder that?” Robert asked mildly. “Look, if you’re going to stay with him, could you at least be less demanding?”

“Are you going to turn us in?” she spat. “I bet your daddy would be so proud of you being a little lapdog and catching the rebels!”

“Why would my father be proud of me catching mice?” Robert asked, rolling his eyes as he called Annette over the para-RAID. Nothing.

“Why, you!” Reyander drew herself up. “You’re so disgusting! You have no idea what they’re going through out there, do you? The Colorata are starving! They need food, and medicine, and help to get away from us! Don’t you have a heart?”

Ugh. Still no answer. He knew that Lena would answer, but she would never appreciate a call from him. He’d rather not have to do it.

“Well?! Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Reyander demanded.

“Nope.” Robert replied, and sighed. Lena it was.

She picked up on the first ring. “What is it?”

Oh shit. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say to her at all. What was he going to ask? How was he going to explain how this had all come about? “Major Mileze,” he started, glancing at Reyander to see her reaction. He was pleased to see her draw back and press a hand to her lips. Good, she recognized who he had called. “Good evening. I’m sorry to bother you at this late hour, but I need to request medical assistance at the warehouse and can’t get a hold of Dr. Penrose. Could you bring a doctor at your earliest convenience?”

“Carthage,” Lena said slowly, and Robert could hear the way her mind was laboring to catch up to the fact that he was calling her, requesting assistance, and was using formal language to do so. He couldn’t blame her for being confused – the situation was rather wild. “Are you in uniform?”

That was their code for are you surrounded? “Yes. There were some intruders in the warehouse, and unfortunately, one was injured in attempting to escape. However, I suspect there is some foul play, so I’d like to keep this between you and me.”

“There’s no foul play except you here, soldier boy!” Reyander shouted. “You’re starving the Colorata! Let them have their food!”

“…I see,” Lena murmured. “Do you just need back up, or a doctor?”

“He has a concussion – no contraction in the eyes.”

“Get him to something warmer than the warehouse floor then,” Lena sighed, “I’ll be there soon. If you’re able to get them secure, call me to explain what happened while I’m on the way.”

“Sure thing,” Robert said, and looked up at Reyander. “So,” he said conversationally. “This is your last chance to abandon your comrade. I’ll be taking him to a cot so he’s not chilled and concussed.”

“I don’t abandon people, unlike you people,” Reyander snarled. “You abandoned the colorata beyond the wall!”

“Ok, sure,” Robert said. It was too bad he’d needed to disconnect with Shiden. He leaned down, scooped up Brayden and adjusted him so the boy’s head was cradled against his shoulder. “Bring the duffel bag with you or dump it back in the box, will you?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be contaminated with radiation?” Reyander said. “Why would you want it with you?”

“Because it’s evidence,” Robert drawled, “Now pick it up and come on.”

It took her a moment of indecision, but Reyander finally scuttled over the duffel bag, threw the remaining meals into it, and followed him with all the fury of an indignant cat. Robert sighed. It was going to be a longer night than anticipated, and he hadn’t even gotten the full three hours of recording he’d intended to.

Chapter Text

He kept a cot in his office for mid-day naps. It was amazing how Brayden looked so small against the cot. There couldn’t be more than 8 years between them, but that appeared to be enough to make a large difference. Robert tucked Brayden in, ducked into his in-office coldbox, and got a cold pack, handing it to Reyander. “Make yourself useful and hold that against his head. You should be able to find it by the goose-egg.”

Once Reyander was kneeling by Brayden, he flicked his computer on and searched for Reyander’s first name. “Cynthia?” he asked, and Reyander looked up before seeming to realize that she’d given herself away, and looked down again with a sour expression. Robert restrained his laugh and stood up from the computer. “Major Mileze will be here soon. Wanna give me the explanation before you have to talk to her?”

“I won’t talk to either of you traitors,” Cynthia muttered. “She’s just as bad as you.”

This time, Robert really did laugh – just a single barking HA! though. “Ahem,” he said when she looked up at him in disbelief. “Sorry. You think Bloody Reina, who has a reputation for loving the 86 to her detriment, is just as bad as me, Robert Carthage, whose family built the Gran Mur?”

“A wall is a wall,” Cynthia sneered. “But she gave up and started dating you instead of fighting on. Of couse she’s just as bad.”

“Boy, that’s certainly a take.” Robert sighed. There was clearly some huge miscommunications going on. “But I’m still curious if you were actually talking to an 86 who told you about the spoiled food.”

“I told you, I don’t reveal my sources!” Cynthia said.

“Right,” Robert sighed, stood up. “Well, I’ll be right outside. If he wakes up, let me know.” His office had no windows and just a small vent that even her head wouldn’t fit through, and he’d never been grateful for that before now as he closed the door and called Lena again.

“I’m on the way. Are you in uniform still? What happened?”

“Good. Sort of, but not as much. I was recording with Shiden when I heard them in the back. It’s a pair of middle schoolers. They say they’re stealing food to sneak into a shipment to the 86, except they haven’t told me who they’re talking to or who told them about the spoiled food. They’re in my office now. I’m worried they’re on the wrong end of a sting.”

Lena was quiet for a moment, and he could hear the purr of a car engine. She must have fallen asleep in her uniform to be that far into getting here. She was impossible sometimes. “They could be on the wrong end of a sting, or they could be the bait.”

“Exactly,” Robert said.

“All right. I’m going to stop and get a para-RAID on the way. You said you were talking to Shiden? So she’s awake?”

“For you? She’s always awake.” Robert snorted.

Lena half chuckled through a yawn. She must have been really sleepy if she was actually laughing at a joke he made. He throttled his heart of hope and cleared his throat. “You think Shiden can talk them around?”

“If nothing else, she’ll be able to tell if they’re talking to a real 86 or not.”

“Good call. All right, I’ll see you soon.”

He opened the door to find Cynthia sitting next to Brayden, whose eyes were open, though they didn’t look focused even from here. “Let me talk,” Cynthia hissed and sat up again.

“Cyn – stop it,” Brayden groaned. “I can’t even get up. If he was gonna report us, don’t you think he would have already?”

“Brayden, shush! I told you, he already called Bloody Reina! He did report us!”

“And I told you we should have talked to her first!”

“She’s a traitor!”

“You don’t know that!” Now Brayden was half sitting up.

Robert sighed, raising his hands. “Brayden, lay down, please. You really shouldn’t be up yet. You were out cold for almost an hour. Cynthia, could you please not rile up Brayden? He really needs to rest.”

“Is she really coming here?” Brayden asked. “Bloody Reina?”

“Yeah. And she’s calling one of her processors to see if we can figure out whether you were really talking to an 86 or someone impersonating one.”

Brayden’s head turned towards him in abject shock. “Wh-what do you mean, someone impersonating an 86.”

“A colorata,” Cynthia corrected loudly. “Remember, that’s what she said to call them, it’s a sign of respect!”

“And that’s exactly why we suspect it was an impersonator,” Robert said, pulling up his chair. “The 86 actually don’t care about being called 86. They take a certain pride in the title.”

“But why would someone do that?” Brayden asked. “Why pretend they need help?”

“To see who would help war criminals, of course,” Robert said evenly. “Technically, stealing food to help the 86 is aiding and abetting the enemy, and it’s worth a lot of time in jail, even for twelve-year-olds.” Brayden’s eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke, and Robert sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to report the two of you. You’re way too young to be arrested for a stupid stunt like this.”

“But… if we don’t do it,” Brayden looked over at Cynthia, “She said they would starve when they escaped.”

“Escaped where?” Robert asked. “Where did she say they were escaping?”

“Brayden, you have to stop,” Cynthia said, and for the first time she sounded choked up. “You’ll give them away!”

“But what if they aren’t real?” Brayden asked. “We’ve never seen them! Cyn, I can’t go to jail, my mom would die! You know her health is bad.”

“But then they’ll die,” Cynthia whispered, and tears overflowed her cheeks. “We have to help them.”

There was a knock at the door, and Robert let out a sigh of relief. Thank fuck he didn’t have to watch them twist over themselves alone anymore. He swung open the door. Sure enough, Lena had clearly fallen asleep in her uniform, and her hair was pulled back into a pony tail without her usual hat. Robert caught his breath, but immediately plugged his ears against his beating heart and stood aside.

Lena wasted no time, looking from Cynthia to Brayden and back, then held out a pair of para-RAID devices. “Do you know how to use these?” she asked.

They both shook their heads. Robert frowned. If they hadn’t been using para-RAID to talk to the 86, then how in the world had they been getting messages? Fuck. It really was a sting operation. That opened up a whole new can of worms. Now they had to figure out if these two were the targets or the bait. Was the sting just trying to see if there were any remaining Alban sympathizers? Had they heard of an underground movement and were looking for evidence of it? Or did they know that Robert had been illegally putting aside rations and were trying to catch him for sure?

Lena pulled her hand back and nodded, glancing back at Robert, and he knew she had also came to the same conclusion. “All right,” she said evenly. “Would you like to talk to a real 86?”

“We already have,” Cynthia said. “And how do you not know that the right term is Colorata? Aren’t you supposed to be the one who cares about them?”

“Will changing the term save a life?” Lena asked without a pause.

Cynthia’s eyes went wide. “N-no! But it’ll give them something they wanted! It’s about respect! If you can’t even bother to call someone by their name, they don’t owe you anything!”

“That’s true. But we’re not at the level of fighting for respect. We’re fighting for lives right now. So, again, would you like to talk to a real 86?”

“How would we know it’s a real 86?” Brayden asked. “If you think they faked it for us, whose to say you aren’t faking it?”

“Because I’m a Handler,” Lena said. “And Robert can pull up my roster to show you the names of my processors – I know both their real names and their call-signs. And you know that anyone outside of the handler will only see call-signs, right?”

Without her even asking, Robert was already at the computer, pulling up his version of the roster so she could show them. Lena glanced over, pointed at the screen. “We’re going to call Cyclops. Her name is Shiden Iida. Put these on. Brayden, this might be uncomfortable for you having just had a concussion, but it shouldn’t be harmful.”

“But we never had to use these things to call anyone before,” Brayden said, pulling the para-RAID around his neck. “We just get notes in our locker and the park that’s on the way to school.”

“Don’t tell them that!” Cynthia shrieked.

Robert met Lena’s eyes. So it was a specific attack – notes in a locker weren’t just catching anyone who happened to pass by. That made it more likely that someone knew there was an underground and they were trying to find it using middle schoolers – who would either run to the underground movement for help or try to help themselves. Lena nodded. They would need to be more careful in the future. “It’s like a telephone with no wire,” Robert explained.

“But I thought the war made that impossible,” Brayden said.

“It did,” Lena said carefully. “These are called para-RAID devices. Put them on around the back of your neck, like this.” She turned and showed the two kids how to strap the device and turn it on. “They are very special equipment. They are the only way to talk to someone at a long distance. You’ve really never seen one?”

Brayden tried to shake his head but winced. “No. Cynthia, you haven’t right?”

Cynthia swallowed. For the first time, Robert saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes as she handled the para-RAID. “No,” she said softly.

“But didn’t you say you heard her on a Radio?” Brayden asked. “That’s not possible, right?”

“She was hiding underground,” Cynthia burst out. “That’s what she said! That she was hiding underground, and it was short-wave radio, and that’s why!”

Suddenly, Shiden’s voice broke into the conversation, brash and confident. “So, girly, what was this chick’s name?”

Cynthia sat up straight and gasped in shock. Brayden’s mouth dropped open. They looked at each other, then at Lena, who nodded. “All you do is speak and she’ll hear you.”

Cynthia’s mouth worked for a moment, and then she looked down. “Anansi,” she said. “She said she didn’t have a last name, that San Magnolia stole it from her.”

Shiden snorted. “Sweetheart, we all have last names, even if they’re tribal. Some of us don’t say them, but we’ve got them. As for the name, Lena, let me call Adebayo on – I’m pretty sure it’s bunk but he’d know better.”

“Sure,” Lena said, and glanced at Robert. “So what will we do with these two?” she asked mildly. “Should we report them to keep the sting off us?”

Robert shrugged. “Might be easier. But we could also report the stinger as if they had come to us as mentors for help.”

“That’s rather kind of you,” Lena murmured. “Keeps them out of trouble.”

“No telling what they’d do to their families if they’re prosecuted,” Robert said with a shrug.

“Hello Handler,” Adebayo’s voice was husky with sleep. “Shiden said you had a question?”

“The name Anansi,” Lena said. “Does it mean anything to you? Shiden said it might – it’s the name given to a few kids here – supposedly it’s the name of an 86 woman living underground here in the capital.”

Adebayo snorted. “Bullshit,” he said. “I see why Shiden got me up. Anansi is a boy’s name.”

Brayden coughed.

“Do you know the name’s meaning?” Lena asked.

“Every kid from my country knows Anansi stories. I tell them here all the time. Anansi is a clever spider, who uses cunning to beat the bigger creatures. It’s not a bad name if there really was an 86 who understood the stories hiding out, but…” Adebayo heaved a large sigh. “It’s also perfect if you’re an Alba who doesn’t actually understand the stories, or never listened to them, and thought that Anansi was just a trickster god. Best way to tell is whether the person kills spiders or not.”

“Spiders?” Robert asked, surprised.

“Anansi is a spider,” Adebayo replied. “And we consider spiders good luck.”

“He won’t let us kill them,” Shiden said, “even in the bathroom. He comes to move them instead.”

Cynthia was pale where she sat on the cot. “She said that spiders were always trying to crawl on her where she slept. That they were disgusting and dirty.”

“They called me spider in the camps,” Adebayo said quietly.

“Just replace spider with 86 and you’ve probably got their real feelings,” Robert murmured.

“Yeah,” Adebayo said. “So that tracks. It’s definitely an Alba posing as a trapped 86.”

“Thank you, Adebayo,” Lena said, “You can go back to bed. Tell Shiden thank you as well.”

Cynthia was staring at her hands, visibly shaking, and Brayden had put his hand on her shoulder in comfort. Robert glanced at Lena again, who was chewing on a cuticle. Gently, he reached out and tapped her hand to keep her from drawing blood. She blinked, looked up at him, and he mimed chewing on his nails to explain the contact. Lena sighed and put her hand down. She hated when he was right, but listened, at least. That would probably never change, and for some reason, he didn’t mind.

“So,” he said. “You want me to take it from here? You can sign the report in the morning.”

“Report?” Cynthia whimpered.

“Don’t worry,” Lena said. “You came to us because you were getting these messages, and you were concerned about the damage an 86 hiding in the capital could do. We report the 86, they know we caught the sting but can’t prove anything about it.”

“But what about the food?” Cynthia asked. “We stole it…”

Robert shrugged. “It was spoiled. It’s still spoiled, just awaiting disposal, which might take a few months.”

“It’s not spoiled though,” Cynthia murmured, and dug in her pocket, holding out a small, flat screen for them to see. Robert blinked. The screen read [0.34MS/H]. A radiation counter, reading normal levels for San Magnolia. He glanced up at Cynthia again, who was staring holes in his head. “So, why are you really keeping it?”

“Tell you what,” Lena said, glancing over his shoulder. “Come to my office around noon tomorrow and I’ll explain over lunch.”

Robert straightened again, and sighed. “If nothing else, we could use more water collection,” he muttered to her. “By the way, the General thinks I’m proposing in a few months, so if he tries to hint at it, act surprised.”

“You are proposing in a few months,” Lena replied mildly, “that was never the question, Carthage.”

As they finished up their reports, signed them, and sent Cynthia and Brayden back home, Robert realized that she was right. The question was never whether he was intending to propose. The question was whether he’d be alive to do it.

Chapter Text

She hardly ever saw her room these days, spending so much time in her office or Robert’s or Annette’s lab, or off at one of their gardens where she had Stewart growing potatoes because Robert had said it was the most nutritionally dense thing they could grow – and they could be grown in garbage cans – so if they ended up with a protracted siege, they had a back up plan.

So it was with a kind of surprised exhaustion that she realized she still had the sketches of Spearhead squadron hanging on her vanity, and equal surprise that she hadn’t even thought of Spearhead in almost four months. She’d been too busy, too tired, too… everything.

Were they really dead? She told herself, they had to be, those last five who had told her they would see her later. Even with Shin’s abilities, how would they have found food, shelter, medicine? How would they have survived winter’s cold? No, they were dead, and it was easier to believe now. But she’d promised, and now she was here. If they were able to hold the capital, it would be an utter miracle. Maybe she would join them soon in death, and if she did, at least she would be able to say that she kept her pride. She hadn’t given up.

They had seemed so happy, leaving. Had they found some joy in the interim? She wasn’t certain how long they’d survived, but certainly they’d had some time. They had set off with almost 30 days of food, water, and what provisions she could sneak them to put into Fido. So they hadn’t died immediately. Had the seen beautiful things? Laughter? Did they find any answers before their jaegers had fallen apart?

“Lena,” Shiden’s voice was gentle over the para-Raid, and Lena startled out of her reverie. “It’s Seven.”

“Thanks,” Lena said, taking a deep breath and putting the sketch back on it’s place on the wall. “Did the shipment arrive? We’ll need to take inventory.”

“Yeah,” Shiden said.

They began going over all of the items Shiden had received, including extra rations and a rudimentary map that Robert had snuck in for their upcoming dash to the Gran Mur.

“Only a month left,” Shiden said softly as they finished up.

Lena looked up at the windows of the room which had been hers since childhood, and sighed heavily. “Only a month,” she echoed.

“…Lena,” Shiden said, and cleared her throat. “I know it’s a really terrible reason, but I’m excited to meet you. I’m excited to see you in person.”

Lena smiled faintly at her curtains. “Me too,” she said. “I never got to meet Spearhead. They never really saw my picture, I don’t think. I’m glad we may be able to meet. I’ll do everything I can to stay alive long enough for you to get here.”

“We’ll make it,” Shiden whispered, and Lena thought she sounded rather intense. “We’re going to make it in time. Believe in us, ok? Even if no one else comes, we’ll get to you.”

“If nothing else, I need you to show up the San Magnolian army,” Lena said with a chuckle. “Their faces when you start to out-kill them exponentially will almost make this worth it.”

“We’ll be coming for you, but that’s definitely a bonus,” Shiden said, and her voice grew softer, more gentle than Lena had ever heard it. “We’ll make it. We won’t leave you behind.”

Lena swallowed, closing her eyes, grateful that Shiden could not see the tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. “Thank you, Shiden.

~^~

They decided to gather in Annette’s lab to listen to the live valedictorian speech that Zack had been supposed to give. Instead it was the boy Lena had danced with at the ball more than a year ago, who had been lead away by adult men with stern faces. She could barely recall his name, but the broadcast supplied it. Dustin. “Here we go,” Annette whispered.

My fellow students. Congratulations and thank you. I am so proud to stand before you today, and I see so much promise in your faces, in the hearts of the people I have come to know during our time in school. We began together as children, with little knowledge of the world and our place in it. We have advanced to adulthood, to the time in our lives when we assume responsibility for ourselves and our community.

Now is when we must begin to examine what that responsibility means. What are we actually responsible for doing, for changing, for fixing? If we find an error in the way that our forefathers determined to run our lives, do we leave it, because it worked in our favor, gave us riches and peace beyond our wildlest dreams? We should thank them for what they did for us, not forget the sacrifices of our parents and grandparents. After all, they put us here with their decisions. We must accept our privileges and status as if it were something we worked for, grasped with our own hands. Our life is our own. We deserve it. We are deserving of it. We will take it.

Annette’s lips were pursed as they huddled close to the broadcast. Robert entered the room without a word, as if he already knew what they were listening to, and Lena could hardly breathe. Anyone who did not have a suspicion of Dustin’s topic would still probably think he was speaking of general things. What high school valedictorian would dare to speak out against the treatment of the 86? They had already caught the one who was a sympathizer, after all.

But what if those privileges which we did not engender were bought with a price we could not have conceived of as children? What if our honeyed lives were bought with the screams of those tortured to death in human experimentation? What if our daily bread was soaked in the blood of children our own age, stripped of their future and sent to the battlefield? What if we found shards of bone, crushed by the building of the Gran Mur, in the milk we drink? Should we still thank our parents for these tainted gifts? Should we still stand before our flag and swear fealty? It was not our decision to eat that bread, drink that milk and honey – as children we were obligated and knew no better. We do not bear the responsibilities of an adult, and could not have refused without starving ourselves.

Lena glanced at Annette and Robert. Robert had his arms crossed, frowning and nodding, with a hint of something else around his eyes. Relief? Understanding? Annette had covered her mouth with a hand, eyes a little wide in surprise. Lena had to admit, she was impressed with how cutting Dustin was being. She had expected something more like what Cynthia and Brayden had been saying – well intentioned but in the end not very helpful.

There was restlessness in the crowd in front of Dustin, but he did not mover, firmly planted behind the podium with a stern expression. A man was hurrying up the aisle toward the cameras, waving at them frantically, but they did not waver.

“Did someone pay off the camera men?” Lena asked.

“He must have,” Robert said. “Or someone affiliated with him. Brilliant.”

Dustin continued.

But that changes now, my fellow classmates. We can no longer turn a blind eye to the currents of blood and bile, the broken bodies we have ascended to our thrones. We must open our eyes to the sins of our country, pull the masks of ignorance placed in love by our parents away. You have been told by cowards that the war with the legion is without casualty. You have been told by weaklings that the 86 are not human. You have been told by the craven that San Magnolia is a fair and just country. You now face a choice to perpetuate that cowardice, to remain too frightened to face the legion and the past yourselves, or to rise up and throw away the mantle of fear which was placed upon us by children.

We have been handed a world which was broken to our benefit. Are we truly so soft that we cannot bear to see it fixed? Are you so determined to keep to your mother’s leading strings, your father’s belt, that you would believe the nursery rhymes of drones that can protect us when we cannot even talk to each other across the city without a wire to relay the message? Do you really believe that the Gran Mur was built by people who came home, when no Engineer who built is has ever visited our classes? Do you really think that Bloody Reina is crazy, when she has the highest kill ratio and the lowest death rate of any handler ever? Will you refuse to see the world the way it truly is?

Dustin slowly raised a hand in the air with three fingers raised – thumb, pointer, middle.

I am an adult now. I will not succumb to their fear. I will not simply follow the cowardly path set out for me by my parents and my government. Jaegers are not drones. Their processors are human, and they run at thirty-seven degrees, just like me.

The man who was waving at the camera seemed to have realized that it was would not work, and now had his head together with two other men, who quickly nodded and broke up, while the first man walked through the aisles to off screen. Lena desperately wished that she could see the faces of the students. Were they angry? Shocked? Confused?

But then, someone in the crowd in front of the camera stood up and raised a hand with three fingers up. Annette gasped. “It’s Zack!” she whispered.

Slowly, two more people stood, and Lena recognized the long braids down the back of Cynthia. They both raised their hands with three fingers up.

As Dustin continued to speak, more people stood and raised their hands with three fingers. Ten, twenty, thirty people stood, and more were starting, but the adults panicked, and were now running up the camera with their jackets out stretched to block the view of how many people agreed before people had stopped standing.

My fellow students, Dustin said, We must –

But they never got to find out what they had to do, because the broadcast finally cut off. Annette, Robert, and Lena sat in stunned silence. “That was…” Annette started.

“Something,” Robert said quietly. “Usually they’ll just let things like that play out because they know that denial only makes them look more suspicious.”

“That’s part of how I’ve been getting away with it for so long,” Lena murmured. “But that was… fifty people were standing before they shut it off.” She took a breath, tried to smile. “I can’t believe he was telling the truth.”

“Hopefully you don’t catch heat for being included,” Annette murmured.

“As far as anyone knows, he’s only talked to me once,” Lena said with a soft laugh. “But it makes me wonder if the high school will have some fighters ready for us.”

“I’ll try to check with Zack tonight,” Annette said, and stood, brushing herself off. “Well, I’ve got some final things to take care of.”

“Yeah,” Robert said. “Lena, I’ll see you for dinner tonight?”

“Yes.” Lena said. “I think I’ve got most everything else ready.” She looked back at the still blank TV just as she exited the room. If they had time, if there wasn’t going to be an invasion tomorrow, would that speech have changed anything?

Chapter Text

 A date felt rather pointless on the final evening before Revolution Day, but Robert had not given her much of a choice in the matter. “It’s the last restaurant meal we’ll probably ever have, Lena,” he said the week before. “Besides, I made the reservations months ago and put in some special orders. We’re going to have a good time, maybe pretend that everything is going to be fine for a night.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that proposition, until the speech that Dustin gave on the TV. The rest of the day was spent avoiding the irritated gazes of everyone else while making final checks that everything was in place for the tenth time.

“Lena, you’re trembling,” he mother said softly as she draped a string of light silver pearls around her neck – a priceless piece since their access to the seas had been cut off. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s…” Lena cut herself off from saying that it was fine. It wasn’t. Nothing was fine. Suddenly it hit her like a ton of bricks just why the speech had bothered her so much throughout the day. It was the first time she’d seen any semblance of hope for San Magnolia to rise above the monster it had become. It was a glimmer of possibility – the words from Dustin’s mouth, the people who had stood, the fact that cameramen had actually kept rolling. Even if they were paid off, they were willing to be paid off.  

And now, just as there was a tiny ray of hope in the young people of the country, it was about to be snuffed out completely. They would never get a chance to see whether the young could wrench San Magnolia back to a place where they were not eating their own.

It was maddening.

But could she tell her mother that? Could she share that hopelessness when her mother was certain the Legion would never come for them?

Lena opened her moth to make an excuse, but instead, out fell the words, “I’m just nervous.”

Her mother chuckled. “I imagine. He should be popping the question tonight or tomorrow. Have you discussed how he will propose at all?”

Thank goodness, her mother had taken her nerves as being about Robert rather than the truth. “No…” she said. At least this one she could easily make up. “I told him not to propose on Revolution Day. It’s too cliché.”

Magdelena laughed. “That’s very like you,” she said. “Then you should have fun tonight. Dating is a fun time. You aren’t expected to be proper yet, especially around the holiday! Have fun, kiss under the fireworks, enjoy this time before you’re married.”

Lena escaped as soon as she could, the lump in her throat so large it was hard to swallow when Robert picked her up. “What’s up?” he asked as soon as she got in the car.

“Nothing,” she strangled out. “Just my mother trying to encourage me.”

“Ah, yeah,” Robert nodded and sat back. “Did you get money from the banks?”

“Yes. I still don’t understand why – money is going to be useless soon…” Lena said, staring out the window, trying to memorize what a functional, beautiful city looked like one last time.

“Not for as long as you might think,” Robert shook his head. “I looked into the economics when the war first started. Things are going to get incredibly expensive but people don’t give up the concept of money until the very end. They cling to the concept – hoard and spend a lot more than normal.”

“Would it be better to pack some of my jewelry too?” Lena asked. “I’ve seen stories about it.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea; jewelry is a woman’s investment portfolio after all,” Robert shrugged.

“What’s that mean?” Lena asked, turning to look at him.

Robert blinked. “Before women could have bank accounts and their own investments, jewelry was how they would save for emergencies. Sure, fine jewelry was a fancy show piece and a way to flaunt wealth, but it was also how a woman could save up money that appreciated just in case her husband left her, or she needed to pay someone off on the side, or the family became destitute.”

Lena frowned for a moment. She’d never thought of it that way. She had always been able to have her own money and accounts. Her mother ran the family finances since her father’s death. “How long ago was that?”

“Oh, I’m sure some of your grandmothers jewelry was bought with that concept in mind.” Robert shrugged. “San Magnolia has only allowed women to have their own money for about sixty years.”

Lena let out a breath. That felt like a long time, but her mother was fifty-two. “That’s interesting.”

When they arrived at the restaurant, Robert opened her door and escorted her in. Lena still felt a little queasy from the day, but Robert gently reminded her. “Eat.”

“It just doesn’t feel right,” Lena said as she stared at her freshly picked salad. “We’re going to be fighting so soon.”

Robert put down his fork, smiling wryly. “All the more reason to eat. It’s one of the last nice meals we’ll have. Order whatever you think we might not have for a while.”

“You’d know that better than me,” Lena said, and picked up her fork. He was right. She needed to eat, if only to fuel herself, and also because unless she was very wrong, she wouldn’t get this sort of experience for a very long time.

“Well then, I’m going to order all the fresh stuff,” Robert said with a smirk. “The rations we’ve put aside aren’t terrible, but can’t beat a salad and fresh bread.” He put his menu down, just in time for a man with a camera to sidle up to them, smiling widely.

“Robert Carthage and Vladilena Mileze!” He said. “The star couple of last year’s revolutionary day celebration – we missed you both at the balls this year – keeping it low key this year?”

They had already rehearsed what to say when people inevitably asked why they had not attended the revolutionary day balls. “We’ve both been working so much,” Lena said, forcing a smile. “We just wanted the time we did have to ourselves.”

“Well, you’ve been practically inseparable for six months now,” the camera man said, waggling his eyebrows. “Planning a big proposal, Robert? Better get with it or she’s going to get impatient!”

“I’m afraid that I’m the impatient one,” Robert demurred, taking a long sip of his water. “And no. Lena would not appreciate an overwrought proposal. If I was going to do it correctly, there wouldn’t be a soul around other than the birds, bees, and preferably a mountain view. There would be a picnic and flowers in her hair. We would have honey wine, bread, raspberries and cheese, and not even think about putting on our uniforms for at least a week – nothing but sundresses, comfortable pants, and linen shirts. But that’s not going to happen, and talking about it here is a bit much, if you get my drift.”

“Of course, of course!” the man bobbed his head. “Could I get a picture before I go? Just to show the people that last year’s happy couple is still going strong?”

“Well, I’m going to go back to talking to Lena either way,” Robert said. “So just take your picture and go.” He turned back to Lena, shaking his head. “What part of ‘time to ourselves’ do people not understand?”

Lena was so surprised by the brusque dismissal, the look of shock on the photographer’s face, and the absolutely odd amount of detail in Robert’s preferred proposal that she couldn’t think of anything to say for nearly ten seconds. He’d actually… thought about what she would like?

“That was a nice speech,” she finally managed to say.

Robert looked down at his plate, suddenly very interested in carefully getting a piece of arugula onto his fork. “He wanted a story. I gave it to him.”

There was no wany she would tell him that it sounded like he’d thought about it, and also that he was right. In that other world she’d created for herself while dealing with the balls – that Lena would have been over the moon to be on a trip to the mountains with Robert. She would have worn yellow plaid sundresses and a big straw hat. She would have woven daisies and buttercups in her hair, and cried when Robert knelt on one knee in a mountain meadow, surrounded by wine and raspberries and bread and a soft blanket. She would have said yes.

But she wasn’t that Lena, and he wasn’t that Robert, and this wasn’t that life.

“Well, thank you,” she said. “For getting rid of him.”

Robert relaxed slightly. “In the morning, we should go for one more water run.”

“Yes,” Lena nodded, and for once neither of them commented that their food was there. There was no use in pretending any more, after all.

Chapter Text

He was soaking wet with sweat, standing in her door frame, heaving for breath, and Annette couldn’t help but freeze up. “Zack? What is it? You’re wet – are you ok? – come in.”

Zack shook his head. “I dumped iced water on me and ran over here. I’m fine. No, I can’t.”

“What in the world did you do that for?”

“I love you.”

Annette resisted the urge to laugh in his face. As confessions went, this had to be the silliest, most immature… she crossed her arms. After Lena had let it slip that Zack liked her, she’d half expected a confession, and had determined to turn him down. But this? What kind of haphazard, hare-brained…“Ok. Why?”

At this point, they always said something about how beautiful she was, how smart she was without ever visiting her lab and actually understanding why she was smart, things like that. But Zack just sighed.

“Because…” Zack trailed off.

This time Annette couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. “That’s it? Go home and get some sleep.” She began to turn around.

“It’s because you’re what I wish I could be,” Zack blurted. “Smart. Funny. You’re sarcastic and it’s hilarious – I’m not that quick. You’re brilliant – the way you figured stuff out from the data sheet? It was like watching dancing but with numbers – it would have taken me weeks to figure out some of the things you saw in ten minutes of sitting with me. You can pretend like you don’t care – I wish I could do that.”

“Don’t wish for something like that,” Annette whispered. “It would be terrible if you started to pretend you don’t care. It’s not a gift, it’s a survival mechanism.”

“But it lets you get things done,” Zack shot back. “And I had to learn to pretend like I didn’t know everything about the 86, the PARA-raid, the invasion…” he shook his head. “And I failed at it. What if Dustin hadn’t been able to give that speech?”

“Some people have to care, Zack,” Annette said. Why was she even arguing with him? It was a pointless venture, they were all likely to die in the next week, and here he was confessing now? “That’s how things get done. It’s not the ones that pretend they don’t care. If Lena didn’t care so much then I never would have…”

“But that’s exactly it!” Zack interrupted. “You don’t want to care and you do the right thing anyway!  You don’t want to do the right thing and you do it anyway.”

“Only because you kept asking me for help,” Annette shook her head. “I’m not as good as you think.”

“I only kept asking you for help because it was you.” Zack said. “I’m not that good either.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Annette sighed, pushed the door open a bit, rolling her eyes – not at him but at herself. Couldn’t she just tell him to leave and deal with one more night alone? Why did he have to come? He was too young for her, too innocent, and yet she was going to be an awful person and take this boy who was too good for the world and completely break his heart – she was just sure of it. “Just come in.”

It was odd, how as soon as he crossed her threshold, it was like he transformed from a high school kid to a young man her age, just by the change in the light. Ah, right, they were only half a year apart in age. It was just that she’d never been in school.

She shut the door behind him, reached out and tugged on his shirt. “Why did you dump a glass of ice water on yourself?”

“I was going to run here, and it was hot.” She didn’t look at his face, but imagined it was flickering with curiosity as she tugged the hem out for his pants and pulled it over his head.

His hair mussed, shirtless, standing in her foyer, Annette contemplated his face for a moment. When had he lost so much baby fat? When had his jawline become like cut granite? Had it always been like this and she just missed it, thinking first that he was in love with Lena, and then that he was too childish for her? She sighed, dropped the shirt in the hallway, and stepped forward. He didn’t move, looking down at her with the exact flicker of curiosity she’d imagined earlier.

“I’m not good enough for you,” she said frankly.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Zack replied.

“I sleep with men to make them go away.” She continued. “I sleep with them to get information. I sleep with them to get money, or jobs, or grants.”

“Ok?” he said. “If they won’t give it to you normally, I guess you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“What are you trying to do here?” Annette asked, frowning.

“Tell you I love you before the legion attack,” Zack replied.

“I don’t love you.” Annette said, shaking her head. “But it’s not like I don’t not love you.”

Zack smiled faintly. “Yeah, I figured that was the best I was going to get. If you give me my shirt back, I’ll leave.”

“I’m not giving your shirt back until it’s dry.” Annette snapped. Damn it, what was she doing? She should give the shirt back, send him on his way, and go lay down, maybe pack her bag, or get the family jewels into another bag.

“Ok,” Zack said. “That’s fine.”

Annette peered at him in the shadows with narrowed eyes, then turned. “Come on then. You can’t go back out with no shirt.” She led him into the kitchen, which was abandoned since she’d given the staff the week off for the holiday and to be with their families before the attack – though they didn’t know that. The shirt went into the sink, and she turned the water on.

“That’s only going to make the shirt more wet,” Zack said, and this time his voice seemed to be barely hanging on to a laugh.

“Hush, it was sweaty.”

“I can wash it, you don’t have to.”

“You turned up on my doorstep, so I’m going to be the host I should be.” Annette said.

“Funny, never learned that a gracious host hand-washed her guest’s shirts,” Zack replied with a grin.

“And you say I’m the sarcastic one.” Annette replied.

“I learned from you.”

She turned off the water, drain plugged so the shirt could soak, and turned back to him. Damn it, she didn’t know what to do with this flirting thing. Usually she was trying to get the man to touch her, grab her, but Zack would never do that. She was completely safe with him – even if she’d undressed him completely he would never, ever make an advance on her, and it was a bit maddening. She always had the power, but usually the man didn’t know that, and that for once he was telling her that she had the power was… she felt a bit like she was walking on jelly – unstable and confused.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m not a good match for you.” Annette said.

“Who said anything about matches?” Zack asked, leaning back onto the counter with his hands braced on the marble top, his pants riding down enough that she could see a peek of the eleastic of his boxers riding up the cut of his hip. “Like I said, I just wanted to tell you before I lost the chance.”

“What did you expect me to do with that?” she asked shaking her head.

“Well, not steal my shirt and let me in, that’s for sure.” He smirked, and for the first time that afternoon, the floor fell out from under her feet. She stuck her hands in the water to keep them off his chest.

“I let you in and then stole your shirt.” Annette corrected, staring into the copper sink. “Get it right.”

“I figured the shirt stealing was the important part, so I put it first,” he said.

“It definitely muddies the sequence of events though,” damn it, damn it, this was why he liked her, wasn’t it? “But what if one of us dies?” she blurted.

He didn’t flinch. “Well, that would happen whether I told you I loved you or not, so.”

“But then I have to live with it. Or you have to live with it.”

“And we’d have to live with it whether I said anything or not, except then I would have regretted never saying anything.”

“What do you want?” Annette asked.

“To tell you I love you.”

“Yes, but what do you want?” How was this guy who had never displayed quite so much calm and just sheer coolness before suddenly leaning on her kitchen counter like a damn swimsuit model, casually telling her he wanted nothing more than to tell her he loved her? “Why now?”

“Because it’s basically the end of everything I know tomorrow, so I might as well do what I want.”

“Then why aren’t you grabbing me and forcing me into your room?”

“Because it’s not what I want.” He blinked. “You’ve never respected the men you slept with, have you?”

“Of course not,” Annette snapped. “Why would I respect the men who are so ruled by their ego that they’d sacrifice to their own detriment just because I told them their dick was magic?”

Zack choked, coughed, then threw back his head and laughed. “Fair enough! Have you ever actually told a man his dick was magic? Did he believe you?”

“Yes, and yes,” Annette said coldly.

Zack stopped laughing. “Oh,” he said. “Wow.”

“So you see, I’m not clean enough for you.”

“Telling a man his dick is magic is not dirty, Annette,” Zack snorted. “Its hysterical, and it says much more about him than you.”

“Can’t you see I’m trying not to mess you up!?” Annette half-cried, whipping her hands out of the water and flicking them at Zack. He scrunched up his face, droplets sliding down his chest and abs into the band of his underwear.

“I’ve spent the last two years scrubbing through a list of the people our government brutally murdered, Annette,” Zack said, his face turning serious for the first time, “helping you file reports and move them underground about human experimentation, leafing through photos of bloated corpses and heaps of children’s bodies mutilated by our own flesh and blood, experiments done by people our parents played golf with. I’ve watched you die a little inside every time we found another file of those pictures, and died a little with you.” There were tears on his cheeks as he murmured, “Don’t you think I’m already pretty messed up?”

“Zack, it’s not the same, I can’t…” she was breathing hard, shaking her head and it felt like she was looking for an exit from a room she didn’t even know she’d walked into. “What am I supposed to say? What do you want?”

“I’ve already done what I wanted. What do you want?” Zack asked.

“I just want company,” she said. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.” Her hands drew damp lines across his skin as she slid them up his chest to pull him down to kiss her, and he acquiesced with more grace than she ever expected – his mouth was gentle and soft, tasted like coffee and cinnamon, he inhaled as he kissed her and she felt the muscles in his neck tense as if he were holding on to the counter to keep from grabbing her. She didn’t let him up when they finally came up for air, whispering, “I’m not giving your shirt back.”

“If that’s what you want,” Zack replied, and took her hands, clasping them to his lips and then to his chest before kissing her again as she felt his hear beating hard and fast beneath her fingertips. “I love you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Is that enough?”

“It’s enough,” he replied, “It’s more than enough.”

Chapter Text

“Lena, why are you in your uniform?” her mother’s voice was plaintive. “It’s revolutionary day! The last one of this damn war! Do they really need you?”

Lena put on a smile for her mother as she fastened the last of her buttons and donned her hat, picking up her small bag of essentials. “This is the most dangerous day, mother. Of course they need me. What if the Legion decides to attack while everyone is partying? A cornered animal is the most dangerous after all.”

“But you’re so young. Couldn’t they make the higher ups do it?” Magedelena sighed, then sat down to her breakfast. Lena’s heart fluttered. This could be it. This could be the last time she ever saw her mother’s face – and she felt… sorrow, yes, but it was distant. Almost like pity.

“It’s fine, mother. Robert is working today too, Annette too, so it’s not like I’m missing out.” After a pause to ensure her mother was no longer paying attention, she slipped into her room, packing the jewelry she’d received from Robert and cash she had been steadily withdrawing for the last few weeks at his advice into her bag. She turned to her vanity, folded the photos of Spearhead and the drawing of her as a pig princess, and place them in the bag’s side pouch.

“Take a good blanket and pillow, too,” her mother called out from the dining room as she came down the stairs. Lena heard her pause to sip coffee, then murmur, “You’ll be grateful if your prediction comes true.”

She wasn’t wrong. And why not – she might look foolish in the daylight, but come the attack, if it did come to pass, she wouldn’t look foolish at all. So Lena turned around, returned to her room, and folded her blanket twice, then rolled it up with her pillows in the middle. After a pause, she stuffed a jar of perfume, soap, and facial cleanser into the middle with the pillow. Tying the whole thing with a sheet, she walked downstairs to find a large, insulated cooler waiting for her. Her mother was still sipping imitation coffee.

“If you have to work, you might as well eat well,” Magdelena said, as if she wasn’t handing Lena enough food to feed four people for a day and a half. “It will keep ice for drinks, too.”

Lena licked her lips. “I’ll just be at the office, mother. If you need anything… please come find me. I’ll be safe there, and so will you.”

“I’ll be fine, Lena. I’m just going over to call on the Rainsworths, perhaps have a drink on their veranda – they have such a lovely barmaid, you know.”

“Please enjoy yourself.” Lena paused, took a breath, and forced herself to speak the words. She couldn’t have any regrets about this day. “I love you, mother.”

“Of course, my sweet,” Magdelena said. “I love you. Have a good day.”

It was difficult to turn her back on her childhood home, knowing that it was on the wrong side of the bridges they would need to blow up to create a bottleneck, knowing that if the legion came this beautiful home where she had run barefoot with her father, where she and Annette had spent countless days talking about their struggles in the army, where she had spent so much time speaking to both Spearhead and Brisingamen…. It would be gone. There was no question.

Her mother had called the car without telling her. The chauffer glanced at her in concern. “Expecting a long day, miss?” he asked.

“Very long,” Lena replied, putting her blanket and bag in the trunk. “Could we stop by the water collections and bridge on the way?”

“Of course, miss.”

~^~

The water collections were full, which Lena considered a good omen, as coincidences went. They loaded the car with water and started for the bridges. Traffic was already rather heavy – to be expected. Everyone thought it was the end of the war, and were celebrating pre-emptively, even though they also knew that the shut down order didn’t take effect until midnight. Lena sighed as she watched children frolick in a front yard, laughing and twirling with streamers as their parents looked on in elated relief. They all thought that their children would grow up in a world of opportunity, a world free of the war with the machines.

They pulled up to Annette standing on the side of the bridges, and Lena got out of the car, peering past Annette to see Robert and Zach carefully negotiating the bridge struts with cans of red paint. “How is it going?” she asked. “On schedule?”

“Ahead, actually – they got started around four in the morning,” Annette said with a yawn. She looked somehow more relaxed than Lena had expected. “We’ve had a few law enforcement try to stop us, but Robert waved his military ID in their face and told them it was for fireworks and they let us alone.

“Good. It’ll be easier to set the bottleneck if we have everything marked clearly.”

“Miriam and Steward and meeting us at the office. Your mom?”

“She packed us lunch,” Lena said, unable to speak her mother’s choice to stay behind.

“I guess that tracks.” Annette turned. “Go on to the office. We’re almost done and Robert has his driver waiting for us on the other side of this bridge. We’ll see you in a bit.”

Lena nodded and, numb, climbed back in the car. “Office,” she said, and her voice was choked.

“May I ask, Miss?” the Chauffer said as he turned into traffic. “Do you know something I should know? Should I evacuate my family somewhere?”

She glanced at him in the mirror, and found his eyes narrowed and hard. Well, what could it hurt? If he believed her, some people might be saved. If he didn’t, it wasn’t like anyone would really believe him. “Stick to the right bank if you get the day off,” she said softly. “Send your family to the main military office – that where the base of operations will be – tell them to set out after dinner time – that’s when they’re most likely to start the offense. When you get home, pack the car with practical things – food and water, blankets, jewelry, fresh underclothes and socks.”

“You sound like you think the Gran Mur is going to fall…?” the chauffer asked hesitantly.

“If I’m wrong, then everything will shut down and we’ll have an 86 rebellion. If I’m right…” Lena sighed. “It might.”

“You really think the president and house would lie like that? Let us all die?”

Lena shrugged. “They lied about the 86. What’s one more lie, after that?”

The chauffeur made a non-commital grunt. He was of the opinion that the 86 were like rats -unclean, disease ridden – not their fault they were nothing more than pigs in human form but not his either. She knew this, she’d tried to get him to come around but nothing worked. Still, it didn’t mean she couldn’t give him the information to help himself and her mother.

He helped her out of the car, tipped his hat. “Respectfully, I hope you’re wrong,” he said.

“So do I,” Lena said. “But if I’m right… take care of my mother?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, and got back in the car. Lena sighed and sat next to her things. Robert would be along soon, and they could help her bring her things in.

~^~

It was a tiny party they gathered in Lena’s office. Annette, Zach, Robert, Miriam, Cynthia, Brayden, Stewart. They piled their luggage in the corner, set up cots and sleeping blankets. Robert’s office would be their base of working, her office would be their base of rest, since the array of monitors and controls would be essentially useless as soon as Brisingamen entered the wall.

As he unpacked, Robert held up a bottle of golden-amber liquor. “Nicked my old man’s best full bottle of bourbon,” he announced. “It’s still pretty early. Should we have one last drink to toast the last few years?”

Everyone paused to look at Lena. It may have been the emotions of the morning, or the way that Robert smiled, or maybe even the knowledge that the liquor he had was probably worth thousands even when it wasn’t war-time and his stealing it was absolutely a sign of his faith that the legion were really coming.

“Sure,” she sighed. “I guess there’s enough of us that it can’t do much.”

“An hour of drunkenness at best,” Robert affirmed, “Annette, can you scrounge some lab ware for cups?”

“Already done,” she said. “You mentioned you were going to try this yesterday.”

“Perfect!” Robert took the first beaker from Annette and, grinning, poured our measures with a practiced hand, going around the room and handing out the bourbon with a smile for everyone. Lena watched with a wistful exhaustion. Too bad that he had ruined her trust in him before ever starting to work together. She could see the anxiety and terror melting from Cynthia and Brayden as they took the glass from them, noticed that he had poured them a little less than the adults, but not so obviously little that they did not feel like they were a part of the toast. Miriam smiled a little, coaxed by Robert’s generous pour when he realized who she was.

“My god, the seamstress who made those dresses for Lena?” he said, and bowed, arms outstretched with the bottle in one hand and a flask in the other. “Madam, the goddess of San Magnolia herself wishes she had your tailoring and embroidery. I have seen many a dress, but your creations were art.”

“Thank you,” Miriam said softly. “I’m not sure what kind of use I can be here, but I believe Annette when she said it won’t be safe.”

“A seamstress is indispensable in times of war,” Robert said, and put a hand on her shoulder. “The ability to make and alter weather appropriate cloth is the difference between life and death on the battlefield. Don’t worry, you will be useful.”

Lena kept her sigh inaudible as Robert continued on through the people, thanking Steward for his water collection and skillful false-box making so that Lena could send need items to the front line, glancing Annette up and down and then simply snorting and toasting Zach.

“Oh fuck you and give me my drink,” Annette snapped, swiping the beaker from him, “I haven’t had anything good in years.”

Robert clicked his tongue and handed the next pour in his hand to Zach. “Many firsts in a day, huh my guy? Well done.”

“I’ve had bourbon before,” Zach drawled. “I’d shoot it to prove it but this is way too expensive for that.”

“Glad you have some sense left in you,” Robert said, and turned to Lena.

The room seemed to go silent. Lena looked up, meeting Robert’s eyes and holding them as she stretched out her hand like a robot. He pressed a beaker into her hand, not breaking eye contact, lips pressed into a flat line that she had learned meant he was thinking hard about what to say next. Finally, he poured himself a drink and lifted the glass to her in a silent, private toast. Unwilling to be the one to break his gaze, she returned the toast, lifting the glass to her lips and taking the smallest of sips.

It was unbelievably smooth in comparison to the tiny sips of bourbon her mother had made her try so she would know what was good and what was not. The education was meant to be so that she would not be taken advantage of if her husband enjoyed liquor and she needed to make buying choices for him. She had not exactly developed a taste for it, but she could recognize fine bourbon and this was undoubtedly some of the finest on the planet, like the liquid of a sunbeam sliced from warm oak and cherry wood.

Her face must have given away her astonishment at the taste, because Robert smiled into his glass and nodded, stepping back so that the eight of them formed a rough circle. “To all of you,” he said. “Let’s all hope that we are completely wrong about what’s going to happen tonight. At the same time, if it doesn’t happen, I’m completely fucked for stealing this.” They all chuckled faintly, and Robert raised his glass. “Cheers. Here we go.”

Lena swallowed. “Here we go,” she repeated, and took another sip with everyone else. Brayden began to cough. Steward sighed, murmuring a soft exclamation of amazement. Cynthia smiled. Annette and Zach were glancing at each other. Lena looked back at Robert and found him smiling at her.

“Let’s make sure we rest as much as we can today,” she said. “If you go out to any parties, bring food back if you can.”

“And have fun,” Robert said. “It’s practically our last day on earth, after all.”

Zach raised his glass. “Here here.”

Chapter Text

By 7pm, the liquor had worn off and everyone sat in her office, silently waiting. Annette and Miram sat arm in arm. Brayden and Cynthia sat back-to-back. Robert sat by the door, staring at the empty bourbon bottle. She could not sit, too wound up.

Outside, something crackled and snapped. Cynthia jumped, eyes wide, but Robert shook his head. “Fireworks,” he said, and swung the door open so they could see the red, yellow, and white sparkles bursting in the sky outside the hallway windows. He took a breath, glanced at Lena. “But this is about the time they attacked last year.”

Lena’s mouth went dry for a moment. He was right. It was about now when Shiden had contacted her about a prolonged shoot out that ended in Brea’s death. Only a year? It felt like centuries.

She didn’t even realize that she had forgotten to draw breath when the PARA-raid activated.

“Majesty,” it was Shiden. Her voice was grim, almost disbelieving. “They’re moving. Something is lobbing stuff over our heads. Something big.”

She must have connected to everyone in the room, because Robert, Zach, and Annette all whipped their heads around to stare at her, as if trying to confirm that they had heard Shiden correctly. Lena drew a slow breath to catch up to her wildly beating heart. “Over your heads?” she asked. “How far? Are they missing?”

“Not a chance, Major,” that was Shana. “Adebayo caught the report – the top of the arc is practically directly over us.”

“Fuck,” Robert whispered. “The minefields. They’re targeting the minefields.”

Miriam sobbed softly, leaning into Annette, who gently touched her cheek, kissing the crown of her head.

“Start for the capital,” Lena said. “You’ve got the maps. We’ll work on deactivation – it shouldn’t take us more than an hour and it’ll take you that long to get there. If it’s scoured already, all the better. Don’t bother with defense. Get everyone ready and get here. I’ll give the general order once the minefields are deactiv-,” she was interrupted by a massive roar over the para-raid, so powerful that all four of the people connected flinched as one.

“What was that?!” Robert barked.

“Cyclops, come in.” Lena snapped at the same time.

“Something that wasn’t targeting us, Majesty. We’re fine.”

“We heard it too,” Brayden whispered. “Like a far-away boom.”

Suddenly, there was a blaring alarm throughout the building, and Lena squinted up. Well, that was surprising, that they had the Gran Mur alarmed at the capital. They hadn’t planned for it, but it didn’t change much of anything, she doubted the revelers would pay it any mind.

“Go,” she said to Shiden. “You’ll know as soon as you’re good to move on the mines.”

“Yes,” Shiden said. “See you soon.”

The alarm grew louder and more insistent. Lena looked around the room. “Go on outside,” she said. “Stay close and get your bearings outside.” She glanced at Robert and jerked her head to the door.

“Call your troops to order,” she said. “If they don’t come now, at least they know to come.  I’m going to go deactivate the mines.”

“I’ll catch up to you if possible,” Robert said, and shook his head. “Man they made that alarm annoying.”

She quirked a lip. “Well, we’re the only people who know what it’s about so…”

“Boy, what a shitty consolation prize,” he said, and turned to his office.

~^~

Robert caught up with her shaking on the stairs to the office they knew held the minefield codes. “Lena?” he called. “What happened?”

Her heartbeat wouldn’t slow. She almost felt stuck in salute. The confidence and certainty she’d had only minutes before had nearly evaporated in the face of her uncle’s words. Children have the right to dream. But it’s time for you to wake up and e dashed against the rocks of reality. They’ll never fight for us, Lena. “My uncle caught up to me,” she strangled out. “I tried to talk him around. He knew what it was. He knew I was right.”

Robert paused. “And?”

“And he’s going out to buy us time. With a gun.” She tried to still her breath, get control of the sobs on her voice, but everything she’d been doing for the last two years, every political move, every moonlit venture, every payment and bargain… it all suddenly felt completely moot. They were all going to die. “Just a gun, Robert. He thinks we’re better off just laying down to die.”

There was a pause. Lena chanced a glance at Robert, almost expecting him to agree. Say this was pointless. To tell her that she was naiive. But instead, there was a rage on his face she’d never seen, and she realized that while she’d seen him frustrated and aggravated, she had never seen Robert Carthage angry. He whirled, spat on the stair and stamped on it, shouting, “Coward!” Huffing, he ground his foot into the marble staircase. “Goddamned coward. We are San Magnolia! We do not lay down to die!” He turned back to her. “Don’t you dare take his words to heart. Not a one of them. He isn’t half the man – no, person – you are, Lena. You stood up all this time even when people ridiculed you for it. You got people on your side that never should have been here." He thumped his chest. "You’ve assembled information, people, strategies, food, water, shelter when no one believed you.” Drawing a breath, Robert leaned up the stairs to look up at her, eyes burning with fury. “Fuck. Him. He never tried to make the 86 love him. He never even admitted the 86 were people, and now he wants to pretend he knows them!? He doesn't understand their pride because he can't imagine having it. He is a coward and he will die like one. Got it!?”

She blinked. Nodded minutely. Robert leaned back to upright again and, as if embarrassed by his outburst, wiped his lips and wouldn’t look at her as he climbed the stairs. “I’ll give him one thing. If he’s buying us time on these stairs, he must have known what we were going to do. So let’s do it.”

As he walked past, the heat of his anger seemed to melt the cold of Karhlstal’s disregard. Lena shook herself. Now was not the time to falter. She’d put a plan in place. All she had to do for the next few hours was follow it.

They came to the Brigadier General’s office in silence as the announcement to gather in the mess continued. “One of us should go to that,” Robert said as he unlocked the door.

“Help me with the drawer and then you go,” Lena said.

“But of course,” Robert said, and pulled a thin key from his pocket.

Lena stared. “I thought you needed a crowbar.” She said.

Robert grinned. “Lifted a copy of the key last week.” He said. “Shockingly easy, it’s amazing no one else has done it.” He leaned down, fitted the key in the desk’s lock, and slid the drawer open, handing the small red notebook to Lena. “And now, your majesty, I must away to the meeting. I will tell them you are getting your beauty sleep.”

“They won’t believe you.”

“Who cares?” Robert asked, and flipped a wave.

Lena activated her para-raid as she jogged back to her office. “Annette? Are you ready for those codes?”

“Ready and waiting,” Annette replied immediately. “Have any trouble?”

“Just my uncle trying to talk me out of fighting.”

“They’re adorably naiive, these military men,” Annette quipped dryly. “The codes?”

She read them off. As she reached the final set of stairs to her office, Annette let out a breath. “Minefield deactivated. It’s all dirt now.”

“It’s our only hope.” Lena replied as she swung the door to her office open. “Now’s where we see if all those dresses were worth it.”

“Good luck.”

Her office was empty. Pulling out the modification device Annette had made for her para-raid, Lena fitted it over her main para-raid device. Deep breath. Touch the pig princess drawing for good luck. Sync her system with the para-raid.

“Para-Raid, Activate.”

Bloody Regina to all Processors in combat areas!

Chapter Text

Robert had expected hushed whispers as the general hurriedly explained that the Gran Mur had been compromised by an unknown legion shot.

Kahrlstahl immediately raised his hand. “I believe the legion responsible is not unknown,” he said to a room filled with liquored breath and doom. “There was a report released on it’s existence about two years ago, surmising that an unknown legion build far outside the walls was a long-range heavy artillery.”

“Yes, we are aware of that report, but it did not have any evidence at the time.” The general said hastily, glancing at the door.

“Other than processor testimony that something was being built, increased legion hits on major resource regions, and shifts in formation and attack patterns,” Karhlstahl pressed. What he wouldn’t give to know what the hell the man was thinking – he’d just got done tearing Lena down to nearly nothing and now he was referencing Lena’s first reports predicting exactly this scenario. “What I’m asking is whether we made any plans based on that report?” At this, he turned suddenly, and looked Robert in the eye. “Or did the report itself have any proposals?”

Well, this was an unexpected boon. They had discussed at length just how to get a military that had never once listened to Lena’s suggestions or orders to follow her plans. They had considered having Robert symbolically take the lead but Lena take the shadow lead. They had considered a large show of Robert bending the knee, so to speak. Robert cleared his throat. “There were several.” He said. “And a follow-up report detailed exactly how to defend the capital – with or without outside support.”

“Who wrote the follow up?” the general said, frowning.

Robert took a breath. “My fiancé, sir. I edited. She submitted it directly to archives.”

The general glanced at the door again. Robert looked over to find at least a dozen high-ranking officers slinking out of the various doors, hands over their faces so it wasn’t clear exactly who they were. “Well, that is clear enough then. Where is Major Mileze?”

“Preparing her siege base station, sir,” Robert said. “Her squadron is coming ahead of the Legion, after which she has prepared a bottleneck plan to keep the Legion on the east side of the river and protect the west side.”

A murmur ripped through the crowd. Most of the officers were nobility, with estates similar to Lena and Robert’s on the east side of the river. The west side was where the lesser Alba lived and worked. But it was also the side opposite the Gran Mur. The better officers realized this nearly immediately. The lesser…

“They’re not going to protect our houses?”

“She’s just going to leave the nobility to die?”

“Pig-fucker – she just wants to let the 86 have our houses!”

It was almost funny. “I mean, feel free to go and defend your own houses against the legion,” he drawled. “But when the bridges are blasted out, hope you’re ready to kiss your asses goodbye. It’s the houses or everything.”

“Might as well have everything!”

“No point in fighting, now.”

“What was all of this for!”

And just as Robert was about to shoulder through the crowd and push the general aside, Karhlstahl did it instead.

“If you want to leave to defend your family on your own, leave,” he bellowed. “But I am a proud San Magnolian officer. Whoever wants to join me in defense of the city, take up your arms and meet me outside. We will stop the legion before they have any reason to blow out the bridges.”

“What?” Robert snapped. There was no way he was serious. “Or you can stay here and you know, have a ghost of a chance of actually making a difference! We have a plan, we have a defense, we have a leader!” He glanced around, and sure enough, the general had slithered away while he and Karhlstahl faced off. “A leader who does not run away the second things get dicey, I might add!”

“So there it is,” Karhlstahl said solemnly. “You can follow me to a noble death, or stay here and mount a miserable defense which destroys our city.”

“Stay!” Robert shouted. “What are you idiots thinking?! We’ve been preparing for this for two years! We have a stockpile of food and water for a siege – we have people who are prepared to offer medical attention and-,”

“Is it worth it?” Karhstahl interrupted. “Is it worth it to sacrifice our homes? Our city?”

Shana had once been on the para-raid with him late at night, making sure they had plenty of time in the bank to fool the para-raid timers. I feel almost sorry for white pigs, she said. You don’t even know what you have, because you’re too wrapped up in what you have.

What the hell does that mean? He’d asked.

They were always grandstanding. My house is so big. I have so much gold, and jewels. I have land. Always about the things and stuff. I don’t think I ever heard a single white pig be grateful they had good health, or friends, or even be glad they were alive. I think secretly, most of them are miserable and want to die.

“Fuck it,” Robert shook his head and turned to the officers in the room. “If you value your life, stay and follow me. I’m following Bloody Regina. If you don’t, follow him. All I ask is that you tell your subordinates that they have the option to follow me and Lena.”

“Let us go and fight,” Karhlstahl said, nodding curtly to Robert. Robert sighed. Was the old man bluffing to thin out the cowards for Lena? Or did he truly believe that he could do anything but die with that pop-cap gun and his extremely human body? Did it even matter? Either way he was leading some 75% of the officers out of the room on a suicide mission – officers who could have headed up commands in a proper defense.

Finally, Robert was left in the meeting hall with some fifty people, all staring at him hard, waiting for orders. “Let me get her,” Robert said, and tapped his Para-raid. “Lena? Have you got the mission briefings ready? Good, I’ve got your people.”

Chapter Text

They complained at every turn, but Lena couldn’t help but notice they at least knew what they were doing, to an extent. They knew how to load into the juggernauts, and they didn’t ask any questions about the controls. A gaggle of younger cadets shared a cigarette as she walked by. She declined to tell them off about it, reminding herself that it was likely to be their last time as a group of friends.

But they decided to come to her. “What, Major? No tsking, not even for a ciggy?” one called out.

“How about a kiss for good luck?” another said. “Carthage can’t be that good of a kisser – I’m sure I’m better.”

“Come on, we’re going off to be heroes like those 86 you love so much!”

Lena paused, momentarily confused, and turned to look at them. “So you think the 86 are heroes?”

“Hell no,” the young man said. “They clearly fucked up. Had one job, you know. But seems to get you wet so…” He gave her elevator eyes.

She wished she could be surprised that they were still pulling this nonsense when the city was about to be razed. Frowning, she shook her head. “Tell me that again in four hours and I’ll give you that kiss.”

“Me too?” one of them asked. “Hey, no fair! I’ll take a smack on the ass!” He and the other two broke into cackles.

“Sure,” Lena sighed. “If you live.”

 “Is there a problem here?” Robert came around one of the machines. “Get that cig out you dumbasses – there’s fuel here, fuck. And get in your rigs.”

The boys quickly inhaled the last half centimeter of imitation tabacco and stamped it out. “Better watch your woman, Carthage!” One tossed over his shoulder. “She just promised us a kiss and an ass slap when we come back.”

“She can do what she wants. You have to do what I want. Get going.”

“Whatever,” one muttered. “I’m just here to prove it’s not that damn hard. Those pigs are being pussies.” But he jumped into his juggernaut and closed the hatch.

She and Robert watched the three men slowly start to maneuver their rigs towards the soirtee point. Robert looked stormy, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the juggernauts pick their way across rubble, moving at what she knew was less than a quarter of the speed of Brisingamen squad’s soirtees. “What’s the first clash survival rate again?” he asked.

“Less than five percent.” Lena murmured, pulling her hat lower over her face so the wind couldn’t tousle her hair any more than it already was. She probably ought to have Annette braid her hair – she wasn’t going to be able to bathe for at least a few weeks, if they survived that long. Funny – she’d been saying that to herself for years. When the invasion comes, I’ll probably die. But now that it was here… well, she thought she had done some acceptance of her pending death, but now, she couldn’t bring herself to it.

Robert was silent, brooding on his own thoughts. “I see why you promised them that kiss.” He said.

“It’ll be a little awkward if they live,” she said.

“They’ll be too traumatized to remember.” Robert muttered. “Miseluna is right. We’re so damn soft. I’m already internally bitching about how I won’t get to sleep in my bed tonight.”

“I was just thinking about how long it would be before I can get a bath,” Lena shook her head. “Provided we live.”

“Provided we live,” Robert echoed. “How long until Brisingamen arrives?”

“About four hours. They estimate there’s a relatively small wave ahead of them. If they catch up and we haven’t taken it out, they’re prepared to fight from behind.”

“We’ve got about one hundred and ten fighters,” Robert said.

“Less than our best case but better than our worst case,” Lena said. “If we keep even thirty of them through this first fight, we’ll have a better idea of our chances for the next few weeks.”

“God damn,” Robert whispered. “I brought these boys to die.”

“Wasn’t you,” Lena said darkly. “It was the ones who hung their hat on scapegoating the 86 rather than facing up to the war.”

“So, my grandfather.”

“And mine.”

They glanced at each other once, nodded, and turned from each other. Robert went forward to address the troops. Lena peeled off to where they were setting up her command station – out in the evening air since the building was expected to lose power and become a death trap. Annette and Miriam were setting up tables and connecting screens to sensors. Some of Zacks’ friends from school had shown up and were tidying wires, fine-tuning programs, and cleaning up as they went.

“I think we’re as ready as we’re going to be,” Annette said as Lena walked up, nodding to Miriam. “Worked just like in practice.”

“Glad we hired the interns,” Annette mused. “We sorted out all the bugs last week.”

Lena took a deep breath. “Good,” she said. “I’m going to check on Brisingamen. Monitor the other bank. Has the broadcast gone out?”

“Since about thirty minutes ago,” Zack called from his spot. “Charges are set too.”

“No one stopped us?” Lena asked, surprised that none of Kharlstals faction had said anything about blowing out the bridges.

“One of the teams reported that a group of soldiers started to give him grief, but a commanding officer told them to leave it alone and focus on the battle ahead.”

Robert was giving the soldiers a briefing which explained how to fight in a funnel while keeping themselves safe from projectiles. Lena grimaced. They had given a few people para-raids so they could communicate – the ones with the best chances for survival by Roberts account – but for the most part, these pilots were going in blind and with no experience or guidance.

But they wanted to wait until the last moment to blow the bridges so as many people could flee as possible. But balancing that timing… they had decided to announce that the bridges would come down about thirty minutes before the Legion were projected to arrive, but wait until fifteen minutes before to actually do it. That way, people would be able to see some signs of the Legion arriving and maybe take the hint to leave. At least, she hoped so.

Majesty, Shiden’s voice was still deep and clear over the para-raid as it had always been. It occurred to Lena that with as deep as Shiden’s voice was, she could have passed for a man. We’re about half way. We’re behind a pretty big force. Main force is probably still behind us, but I think the front guard was a little bigger than we thought.

“Understood,” Lena replied. “Have you got a lock on my location?”

Yes. Shiden said. ETA is three hours and forty five minutes.

Legion ETA was in one hour. Half hour to the bridges. Then half hour of waiting. They only had to survive totally on their own for two hours and forty five minutes, then.

How’s your chances? Shiden asked slowly. Are we likely to see you?

“Depends on how well Robert trained them,” Lena murmured. “If they were totally green, we’d be dead.”

You’ll be fine, Shana piped up. He’s been telling them that they’ll have to fight the Northerners for land soon. They’ve been training pretty hard.

Lena blinked. “He’s been what?” she asked, then shook her head. “Never mind. Focus on getting here. If there are civilians when you get in, they’ve been warned that it won’t be safe on that side of the river. Don’t stop until you get to us. They might even follow you.”

Now isn’t that a nice thought, Shiden chuckled. Good luck, Majesty. We’ll take bets on the percentage of your newbies that survive.

“Put me in for thirty percent,” Lena said, and cut the connection. She stared into space for a moment. She was going to meet them soon. In person. Even Spearhead had never actually seen her in person.  The thought was terrifying and yet still exciting.

Eventually, Annette waved her over. “There’s a bunch of people on the other bank just… standing there. We managed to get someone to talk to us, and they said they don’t really believe it’s going to happen, so they’re just there to watch and decide later. So Zack had an idea. Should we blow one early so people know we’re serious?”

Lena considered. There were two bridges fairly close to one another. They were half an hour early, but if people started to take it seriously…

“Do the Lancaster street bridge first,” she said. “It’s a smaller bridge, and only a block from Third Street bridge.”

Annette nodded. “That’s about what we thought. We sent people with bullhorns to warn them and set the charges.”

It was only five minutes before the explosion rumbled over them. From her position a block in from the bridges, Lena heard screams of terror. Zack’s voice came over the short-distance radio they’d set up. It would probably fail as soon as the Einsflage showed up, but for now it was useful. “That did it. Seeing people come out and cross now. Some of them are even carrying provisions.”

They had told people to bring non-perishable foods if possible, but Lena hadn’t really expected anyone from the noble districts to listen. It may have been some of the servants though, with a stronger sense of self-preservation than privilege.

But just as the relief of people actually listening to their warnings had a chance to be fully absorbed, there was another sound, far in the distance. Crackles and pops, like fireworks, but somehow deeper and more vicious. Lena was certain that the sounds of the city normally would have swallowed up the distant rumbling, which was almost thunder-like in it’s subtlety. Unfortunately, she and Robert had poured over a map of San Magnolia nearly six months ago, and she knew exactly what it was.

Robert referred to it as a speed-bump. It was the reason their estimates of Legion arrival were plus 15 minutes of the direct travel time from the Gran Mur to the capital. It was also their canary in the coal mine. There were only thirty minutes until the outer parts of the capital were breached.

A small town named Weaverville sat on the road to the Gran Mur. Its population was only in the ten-thousand range, but it had a small downtown district that touted itself as an “escape from the big city.”  It was those buildings that were now being destroyed.

“Robert – Weaverville is down,” Lena said over the para-raid.

“Got it. Blow the bridges now just in case something goes wrong. I’ll get them in formation.”

Annette was nodding, and tapped her computer a few times. This time, Lena could hear the announcements for the bridges blare into the night.

Attention, Attention. All bridges will be demolished in fifteen minutes. Please evacuate and be across the bridge before fifteen minutes have passed.

Attention, Attention…

Zack had at least three different people on top of various buildings, looking over the bank to give reports on which bridge had people on them, where the legion were, if there were survivors in the water… At the five minute mark, he shook his head. “Spotters reporting there’s no one on the bridges or on the other side. If they were coming, they already came.”

“I’ll change the announcement,” Annette said, grimacing. Lena pressed her lips together. They didn’t have a guess on how many people had evacuated, but from her point of view, it was only a hundred, maybe two. Even if every bridge had seen that many… that was hardly anyone. At least ten thousand people lived on that side of the river.

Attention, Attention. All bridges will be demolished starting now. Please stand clear of the bridge. If you wish to evacuate, use an alternative route. Starting count down. Ten. Nine. Eight…

Lena didn’t hear the rest, covering her ears as Zack flipped the buttons on the many receivers he  had arrayed on the table in front of him. She counted with him as he pressed buttons, heart pounding.

One – it was a small pedestrian bridge they had considered leaving intact until Lena reminded them of human-shaped mines which would be able to sneak across.

Two – the first bridge built to motor car specifications.

Three – The most beautiful bridge in san Magnolia, decorated with graceful lattices of wrought iron painted in white – in the summer it was covered in delicate rose vines.

Four ­– The bridge dedicated to Saint Magnolia, where her father had taken her walking as a young girl.

Five – Third Street, the largest of the bridges.

Six was Lancaster, it was already down. Seven was the bridge they were situated on, but Zack counted them out anyway.

Eight – Her mother’s favorite bridge, it was thick and covered in moss, but her mother had admired the old fashioned nostalgia of it.

Nine – The statue bridge, where statues of the first ten presidents of San Magnolia were cast in bronze. Student superstition said that rubbing the sixth president’s big toe was good luck on exams.

Ten – The only suspension bridge and the newest in the capital. It had been built during the war to “prove” that everything was fine.

Eleven – The one that had collapsed when she was a little girl, prompting her mother to wildly attempt to contact her father. It was rebuilt only a year later.

Twelve – The bridge that was directly down the road from Annette’s house.

Thirteen – Her favorite bridge because her father had contributed to the engineering on it. It was actually quite ugly, but Zack had praised how difficult it was to find the weak spot to blow… so that was something.

And finally, fourteen – Another small pedestrian bridge, but this one was more difficult to blow up because it was within the botanical gardens of the capital, where her parents had been married.

By the time the explosions were over, everyone had their ears covered. Zack was panting and pale, as if he had dismantled each bridge by hand himself in the last three minutes.

They waited. Finally, Zack spoke into his radio. “Did we get clean breaks?” he asked.

Nothing.

“Copy?”

Finally, garbled words. “Cl-*** ****K. I REPEAT, CLEAN- ****. CLE- BREAK.”

“They’re close,” Annette whispered, going pale as the static over the radio grew, “tell your spotters to get down.”

Zack was already turning, repeating the stand down and get clear order into his radio ten times. They had guessed they would lose radio, and ten repetitions was agreed to make it clear that all radio coms were now silent and all spotters should return to base as soon as possible to report their messages in person. Still, Lena thought, it was an impressive thing to have a clean break on all thirteen bridges.

“Good job,” she said. “Thirteen clean breaks is impressive.”

“Thanks,” Zack said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess you’re up. Good luck.”

Lena took a breath, let it out, and nodded. “Yeah,” she said, and turned to her console, turning on her para-raid. “Handler one to all San Magnolia commanders. Do you read me?”

Chapter Text

The fight was worse than any first fight she had ever had as a handler.

There was insubordination:

“Bravo56, Bravo56 on your eleven! There’s a spear formation headed at you – break it!”

“Negative Negative – it’s not a spear it’s a bear!”

“I’ve got eagle eyes, Bravo56, it’s a spea- Evade! Evade!” she made sure she cursed off mic when the indication for Bravo56 went dark and looked for the next closest unit with coms.

Followed by relief:

“Bravo 58, do you read?”

“I read. Spear, you said?”

“You know spear break protocol?”

“We have this one!”

Followed by terror:

“Bravo58 requesting back up! Help! Help!”

“Bravo58 – Delta20 and company are on their way to you!”

Followed by breath:

“Just in time, Delta20!”

Followed by heartbreak:

“Bravo58 is down, Bravo60 do you read?!”

Followed by relief:

“Bravo60 reporting – west side is quiet, whose next?”

She was

And then:

“Another wave on the way, but you have a five-minute breather!” Zack’s voice was cracking with the amount of shouting he had been doing for the last three hours of fighting, helping Lena handle while also fielding calls from 86 in her and Robert’s stead. Lena was pouring sweat, Annette was desperately trying to keep the lights on without interruption, and there was a growing audience to their back of various city people who had realized what was happening on the road to the bridge – that there was a single handler with a group of far too young people, desperately keeping the side the bank from being overrun. When she glanced over, she saw Cynthia and Brayden standing at the perimeter, faces stormy as if protecting them from being overrun by the populace. A few other high schoolers were completing the line.

Dimly, Lena realized that it was a bit of a miracle that they had managed to stay defended at all. There had been some close calls – but for the most part they had kept the legion pushed back into the neighborhoods, which was exactly what she had wanted: keep as much room as she could until Brisingamen arrived.

Lena shut her eyes. Just for a moment. Just for a breath. “All units. Do not open hatches, but rest in place for two minutes. We will reorganize in three minutes.”

“Here,” there was a quiet voice at her side. She opened her eyes. Miriam was smiling at her side, though she looked pale and drawn, she handed Lena a damp towel. “Wash your face. It will make you feel a little better.”

“The evacuation?” Lena asked as she gratefully dipped her head into the cloth, which somehow Miriam had made smell of lavender. It had only been what, ten hours? Already she could hardly see what had been her city for flames and fumes, and the idea that she couldn’t just let all this go, sink into a hot bath … she tried to dismiss it. The 86 had not had baths in ages, she would survive. She had to.

“We’ve thrown ropes and ladders down the river embankment on this side.” Miriam said softly. “There’s actually been… well, a good amount of survivors, and we have people giving further evacuation instructions, though people aren’t following them very well.”

She didn’t dare ask if her mother was among them. She wasn’t even sure where her mother had been when she had seen her first legion.  Had she survived the initial shelling? Or had she died before even understanding just how correct Lena had been?

Lena pushed aside the soft, delicate voice in her chest that said maybe that was the difference between the two of them: she had seen her first legion at 8, standing over her father’s corpse. It had changed her, shaped her respect for the war, for the 86. Her mother… well it was too soon to say.

“Good enough,” she said, and handed the cloth back to Miriam. “Keep trying.”

“Are they still coming?” Miriam asked softly. “Do they know we’re still alive?”

“They’re on my coms,” Lena said. “They know. And yes, they’re still coming. We just have to be alive when they get here.”

She turned back to her monitors, frowning. It was impressive, she still had 70 fighters. That seemed suspicious. Had the legion invasion been lighter than she thought?  Maybe they had split out to the other cities instead of wiping out the capital first – they had considered the possibility that the Legion would simply try to kill as many as possible, in which case they would fan out to other cities and kill indiscriminately. If their goal was the surrender of San Magnolia though, they would focus more of their power on the capital in order to gain surrender.  Robert had pointed out that the original Legion orders had been annihilation rather than surrender. He had also pointed out that if other cities were attacked, there was nothing they could do other than try to communicate a warning to go underground.

She switched to their para-raid channel with Brisingamen:

Carthage, do your systems show 70 fighters still in operation?

Yes. Heaviest fighting on the way, though. About fifteen minutes, now.

Thirty minutes, your Majesty. Just thirty minutes and we’ll be able to start fighting our way in.

We play defensively for now, Lena said. Get them arranged while I warn them about incoming fighters.

Robert was already barking out orders on his version of the coms by the time she started speaking on hers. She might have felt bad for having multiple sets of orders come in at the same time, but they didn’t have the time to explain why there was no other option.

“Bloody Regina to all fighters. A squadron of 86 will be fighting their way in to us in the next hour. Not that you could possibly mistake them for legion, but do not impede their progress under any circumstance.”

About damn time!

Really dragged their ass on that one, didn’t they?

God, dirty rats. We were doing fine out here.

Our front is down by half already! What could they possibly do!?

Lena ignored it all and turned back to her handler monitor.

“Delta company – reorganize as point! Bravo company, east side. Lamda company, west side. You have three minutes to report your new positions, go.”

The next wave was on them in a flash bang. It was immediately obvious that the first wave had just been whatever could jump in first, not meant to do anything other than be cannon fodder and clear the chaf for the main force to come.

“Use the buildings! Lambda, watch that bridge!”

This is Bravo7, I’ve lost everyone in my squad – what do I do? They just all blew up! Oh god, why is this happening?

“Delta20, assist Bravo7 on the east side – Bravo60, lead your team to take both sites!”

How the fuck am I supposed to be in two places at once?”

Robert interjected on the coms. “Make it work, Bravo60!”

Sir! Do you want us to die!?

Lena leaned back, stealing a glance at Robert as he continued. “I could ask you the same question – we’ve got the survivors on our side – you gonna let these women and children be blown to bits on your watch?! Your family could be here – but if you all die, they will too!”

Fuck you, sir.

“Stay alive and I’ll bring the lube, Bravo60.  Listen to your damn handler and remember what we’re fighting for!”

Five minutes had passed. Delta company had split to help Bravo company, but that left their point weakened. Still, the Legion seemed to be coming at them from the sides right now. Lena grimaced. That meant they were making room for something big down the middle.

Cyclops, you have the map of the city, right?

Yeah.

I think they’ve got something gathering due west of our position – something big, either a Dinosauria or a large push force. Don’t come from that direction.

Should we scout it on the way? It’ll add about 5 minutes with the detour.

Lena glanced at her readouts. They were down to 60 fighters. It had been ten minutes. The middle had been clear for five of them. That meant the push was coming soon.

No time. Get here as fast as you can – they’re going to punch through – our forces aren’t enough. We’ll pull them back to support you on the way in.

We actually prefer it that way, Majesty, Cylops’ tone was full of Bravado, Gets them out of our way so we can actually fight, y’know?

Lena took a breath. Pulling back was a risk, but not nearly as much as staying vulnerable. Bloody Regina to all processors. Fall back to behind the bridge – you have three minutes.

We’re doing great out here!

Yeah, we’ve almost got this done!

Let us finish – didn’t even need the 86!

Fall in you fucking trash maggots or so help me, I will blow your rig myself. Robert’s tone brooked no argument, stealing even Lena’s breath. You might want to wonder why the legion is being so easy on you – we did an entire week of studying how to lay a trap, you fuckwits! Get to your new positions NOW – you have two minutes.

Lena let out a breath as the juggernauts on her screen began to converge on their position. There was a small squad of four just off to the west. But between them and the fall back point was about twenty legion.  She grit her teeth. The leader of that squad was important – Dustin was like her among the troops, they didn’t like him, but he was good at what he did, and he’d been training with Robert’s squad as an extracurricular. But how to get them through 20 odd Legion? “Lambda90, your squad is surrounded.”

We’re up on the buildings right now, Handler, but you’re right. Got anything for me?

She studied the map, frowning. Up. Most of their force had been staying to the ground, under the mistaken impression that they could save the buildings, that they shouldn’t use the terrain because they might be going back to it in a few days.

If his squad knew how to jump, they might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

Only way back is further in, she said. Head due west, keep to the tops of the buildings, try not to engage. Then head west and come back around the outskirts.

Got it. We’ve only got ten more minutes before the 86 arrive, right?

Fifteen now – they had to detour around something coming, and I didn’t want them scouting it.

So you don’t know what it is? How do you know something’s coming?

Legion don’t just leave openings. They’re trying to draw us thin so they can punch through, I just don’t know what they’re going to punch through with – it’s too far off.

We’ll scout it, Dustin said. We have to go that way anyway, right?

Lena took a breath. You need to stay alive. When the 86 arrive, they’re going to need an advocate besides me…

Got it. Dustin said. We’re going.

Chapter Text

The flames around the city illuminated it just enough for Dustin to be sure that even if all of the Legion disappeared right then, his home would never be the same. But at least he was alive to even make that observation. Now the trick was to keep it that way. Preferably, keeping his four squamates alive as well.

Straight west, scout to see what the Legion was hiding, then north. They could probably manage that. Maybe.

“You all remember how to jump in these things?” He asked.

His radio hissed, feebly spitting out his squad’s responses.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“What? Jump!?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Shit.”

“We got cut off,” Dustin replied patiently. His nerves were on fire, but much like giving the speech, knowing that it would completely destroy his life – possibly get him disowned, he’d just put his emotions behind him for the last 24 hours. The speech had turned out considerably better than this – he’d been able to finish, and a surprising number of his classmates had responded. He’d really expected to be cut off and then have an accident the next day. “The only way out now is through – and since most of the legion are staying on ground level, the best way through is to jump the buildings.”

“But you’ll totally wreck the roofs. They’ll have to be replaced everywhere we go.”

Did this guy really still think that the original occupants would be returning tomorrow? Did he think this was just a… never mind, it didn’t matter.

He tried to keep his voice steady and gentle. “I think the people in this neighborhood can afford to replace a roof in service of the protection of San Magnolia, don’t you?”

“I never got through many of the movement drills…”

“This is actually easier than the drills,” Dustin replied, “Carthage was making us jump double the width of a street with sidewalks.” Silently he excused himself the white lie. It hadn’t quite been double, but it really had been further than what he was lining them up for. “Everyone face due west. We’re not trying to fight. We’re trying to run, so if you run into something, shoot it if it’s in front of you, and dodge if it would take longer to shoot. We’re gonna scout as we run.”

“The legion are faster than us though.” They had been horrified to realize how bad even the newest of the juggernauts was in comparison to the legion. Most of the initial deaths in the battle had come from that mismatch of expectation and reality. Dustin had done some modifications once he knew which he would be fighting in. Better oil, better lubricants, tightening a screw here, loosening one there. Not much, but it was something, and it had helped him cope.

“Only on flat surfaces. Up here we have the advantage, because we know what we’re looking at. Everyone get ready, we’ve gotta get moving.” They’d been standing there for almost a minute, the legion was sure to notice them, and just because their first inclination was the ground didn’t mean they would stay there, or that they wouldn’t shoot the roof.

Five juggarnauts turned to the west, noses bobbing with the movement of their pilots, like horses at a starting gate. Dustin took a breath. He was responsible for these four lives, as much as he could be anyway. There was no time to wonder what the fuck he was doing and how he had ended up here, it was probably because he was one of the calmer ones about fighting. Of course he’d been calm; like Lena, he’d been putting things aside, saving up water and food, and making a plan.

His father had refused to come with him when the evacuation order went out. He’d refused again when sirens had gone off after the Gran Mur fell. His mother had apologized to him privately, but refused to leave his father and go wish him.

Mom, he’s just being proud. He can’t admit I was right. Please, they’ll kill you, they’re literally machines.

Oh sweetie, we have a very good panic room. I’m sure it will be fine. Your father is proud, you’re right about that, but I’ll be fine.

She’d glanced to the side as his father barked her name. Let him go. Let him play hero. You belong here.

Like a hundred times before, his mother chuckled and rolled her eyes, as if to say ‘isn’t he adorable?’ But all Dustin could hear was ‘isn’t he abusive?’

They’d been right in the legion’s path.  Panic rooms couldn’t save them from the fires started by broken gas mains. Dustin had not known Lena’s full predictions, or he would have carried his mother out of there himself.

But his teammates hadn’t had the kind of warning he did. Some of them were still under the impression that this battle was temporary, just a bad day for San Magnolia rather than the beginning of the end.

First jump, everyone landed. Second jump, everyone landed. Third. Fourth.  They get a rhythm going, enormous, hulking machines with spider like legs sailing impossibly through the air. They made it down the block and across the street. Across the next block. The rattling of the juggernaut against his bones was starting to make him realize just how much flesh he really had around his bones, the shockwaves of landing reverberated through his body and back through the shiver of metal. He was nothing but a sentient bag of bones and jelly, encased in a metal coffin, and the thought was almost funny enough to make him crack a smile.

But just as they had managed to get confident, there was a crack and a twang just as they pushed off the next jump. He was brought up short. Two of his teammates completed the jump and landed hard on the next roof. He looked at the two remaining. One of the Juggarnaut’s legs had broken a joint and bent backwards. “Oh shit,” its pilot said ver the radio. “What the fuck? This is supposed to be the best tech…”

Dustin decided not to point out that no, it was the best tech they would give the 86. “You’ve still got functionality,” He said. “Come on, let’s go.”

“But shouldn’t we…”

“We can’t get out here,” Dustin interrupted. “Speed is keeping us from being noticed. Now come on, line it up and let’s go.”

The remaining legs held until they ran out of houses. Dustin called for everyone to stop before someone could thoughtlessly sail out into the nothingness and land in the public park. He couldn’t see any legion under the trees, but that didn’t mean much.

“Now what?” someone asked breathlessly. When Dustin turned to the north, he could see the main highway of the city in the distance, and the glints of legion churning around between the larger business buildings that were also keeping them from obvious view.

“You all go south until you’re out of the city. Then turn back, cross the river, and regroup.  Daniel, you take point. I’m going to see if I can figure out what they’ve got cooking back here.”

“Didn’t figure you for a suicidal,” Daniel growled. “Dustin, don’t be stupid. The 86 are coming from this way, they’ll see it.”

“No, commander Mileze didn’t want to risk them or the delay to our troops,” Dustin replied. “Go on. Directly south out of the city. You know the lake park? You can turn east again after you pass that.”

“Come on, don’t be a hero, we don’t have a para-raid.”

“Once you’re out of the city it wouldn’t do us any good to contact command,” Dustin said. “And it’s way better if I scout with the para-raid – that way I can get the info to her as soon as possible.”

“Let him do it,” Daniel muttered over the radio. “If he wants to be an idiot, he can do it without us. Good luck buddy, hope it’s worth it.”

Dustin watched them turn south and clamber down to the street level, then start off directly down the center of the road with Daniel at point. Damn it, he should have told them to back track and get back up on the houses. Then again, with the messed up leg, maybe that wasn’t a good idea after all. He grimaced, then turned himself to the north. “All right, let’s see what they’ve got,” he whispered.

Chapter Text

It took most of ten minutes, but eventually Dustin was able to creep as quietly as his juggernaut would allow: past the park which he suddenly recalled was named Victory Park, and wasn’t that funny, up a building he was fairly sure his mother had visited often to get her hair done, and finally crowding himself and his juggernaut into the top of a clocktower so he could get the best look at the oncoming legion without being spotted so easily.

He had done some studying of Legion types – every engineering student did, hoping that each new class might find some weakness that others had not, equipping them with knowledge of their doom while dismissing their concerns about charging war prisoners with the country’s protection. And so, when he looked over the mass of metal which shined in defiance of the dust, mud, powder, and battle, he knew what he was looking at, and choked.

The largest came four across the thoroughfare, one for each lane of what had once been a beautiful drive in and out of the city. They moved slowly, each leg moving one at a time in quick concert. Beside them, in what would have been the parking lanes, smaller legion flowed like quicksilver, dividing around trees, crawling forward in a sea of clacking legs, like silver locusts.

He turned himself outward, shuddering. There was no end to them. The largest were slow, but they were spread, row by row, for as far back as he could see. It was hard to be sure through the dust and smoke of the city, but their ranks probably went on for miles.

Dustin to Commander Milenze. I’ve got eyes on the road.

There was a pause, as if Lena was a little surprised to hear from him, or maybe there was something else taking her attention, but then her voice returned. Go ahead. Is there something big out there?

Dustin swallowed around a dry mouth. Depends what you mean by big. Dinosauria class. I… can’t count them. At least a hundred, but then the smoke obscures the view.

…. There was a pause, and at first, Dustin thought that Lena was shocked, maybe intimidated. But then, the para-raid crackled, and he realized she was clucking her tongue against her teeth. Is that it? She asked. You can’t see anything else? Where are you looking from?

It? Is that it? Had she really just said that? Clocktower on main and Victory – next to Victory park.

You got further than I expected. Lena replied. And all you see is Dinosauria? Nothing big or strange besides them?

…thousands of the little guys. Dustin offered.

But nothing large. Nothing that could have been what took out the Gran Mur?

Dustin blinked. So that’s what she’d been worried about. It was true, if whatever took out the Gran Mur advanced into San Magnolia and blasted the capital, there would be nothing they could do. They would need to target it immediately, regardless of the other units that might be advancing. He leaned forward, trying to see through the curtain of smoke, discern if anything like that was lurking further out. I can’t see anything. If it’s back at Weaverville, the smoke is too thick to see.

All right. Come back. Carefully. I’ll tell the 86 to keep an eye out for you, so if you see Juggernauts coming for you, accept any incoming para-raid and follow the squad’s orders.

All right, Dustin said, and began to extricate himself from the clocktower. Slowly, so the legion didn’t clock his movement. He backed down until he found the roof he’d accessed the tower from then guided his juggernaut across several roofs until he reached Victory park again.

It was too soon to let out a breath, but he did it anyway. The legion would get thinner from here, or they should. Across the park, through the gates, and once he was free of the park, he sped up, turning into a side-street so he wasn’t so obvious on the large roads…

…and straight into a pack of four Ameise and a Grauwolf, standing over the remains of a single juggernaut.

He yanked back on the controls, managing three steps back before the Grauwolf turned its sensors to him, almost turning the array to the side, as if cocking its head at him in curiosity.

Guns? Which one? Dustin hit the controls again to leap back as far as possible, scrambling to think.

Machine guns? That would take care of the Ameise, or start to, but in the mean time the Grauwolf would blast him to pieces.

Missles? He still had three, but they were such close range – he would take himself out and might not even hit the Grau – his aim had always left something to be desired.

Piledrivers – he was better at short range, it was easier to understand, easier to grasp in the heat of battle, but he’d always had the back up of people who were better with guns than him. Besides, it ran a huge risk of hobbling him if they malfunctioned.

The Ameise all raised their heads, like a pack of ravenous crows, and their sensors flashed red as they crouched like cats readying to pounce. The Grau hung back, lingering over the juggernaut as if to see how the Ameise fared before jumping in. Yes, now he remembered, Legion would always try to use the least amount of force to complete their goal. If the goal was to kill him, the Ameise would come first, and if he survived that, then the Grau.

He could take them. Maybe. As long as the Grau hung back until he was done with the Ameise. He’d taken out a few Grau today already with help. He just had to do it alone now.

The machine gun fire was louder than he’d realized now that he wasn’t in battle with hundreds of other machine guns and blasts of missile fire. One of the Ameise went down immediately. A second was clipped enough to fall on its side. The third dodged. The fourth fell back next to the Grauwolf. He couldn’t think about what that meant now.

Dustin backed up again. Robert’s classes had warned against backing up too much when in combat with a unit, but it didn’t matter now. It was just him and maybe the ghost of his comrade.

 The third Ameise darted forward, trying to catch him off guard, but he dodged and thrust forward with a leg, knocking the legion to the side. He whirled and let the machine gun blast again, tearing the Ameise to shreds before it could line up a shot on him.

Three down. Two to go. The smarter two, and more powerful two. He gulped air, trying to keep himself from gasping. Focus. He maneuvered himself next to one of the houses, preparing to dodge behind it, but as soon as he did, he realized that the Ameise had disappeared. Shit! Where had it gone?  The Grau was standing where it had been, sensors slowly panning across back forth across him. He backed up again.

If he could get out of its sight, maybe he could sneak around it and never have to fight it at all?

Slowly, his juggernaut creaking with the strain of his caution, he backed up again, meaning to disappear between the houses. It wasn’t enough room to turn around, but once he reached the back yard, he could turn tail and bolt.

It was halfway between the houses when he realized his error. He couldn’t turn around. The Grau was in front of him. The obvious answer for the Legion to take was to send the Ameise around the back!

Panic surged through him, and he leaped straight in the air. It put him in range of both the Ameise and the Grau, but what else was there to do?

And sure enough, as soon as he jumped, he saw the Grauwolf from the air, it’s launcher aimed directly at him. He saw the missile ignite and launch as if in slow motion. Airborne, there was nothing he could do, and for a heartstopping moment, Dustin thought damnit. I barely made it a day!

And then, stunningly, the missile exploded early, and directly after, the Grauwolf exploded as well.

Dustin landed hard, whipped himself around, and fired right where he knew the Ameise had been waiting for him, and was surprised to find it already in a heap of wreckage.

His para-raid beeped. Hi there! Your juggernaut looks so new – you must be with Lena. Don’t worry, I’m ordinance, so I got them. You should come with us now.

It was a man. His voice was deep, with a lilted accent he’d never heard before. Yeah, he said, thank you. I was about to be a goner.

You got three of them – that’s pretty good! He still couldn’t even see his juggernaut, and turned about, trying to find the source of the voice. Ah, I’m across the main street and up. Hold on, I’ll escort you to the unit.

Across the street? Dustin squinted. How in the world had the 86 – for it had to be an 86 to have saved him so deftly – made the shot? In the dark, and that far away? He shook his head. No wonder Lena wasn’t worried about normal Legion forces, if this was what they were getting.

Fine-Fingers, another voice on the para-raid resonated to him. This also sounded like a man, but without the lilted accent and with a commander’s tone. You get the lost lamb?

They’re good, the one who had saved him replied. I’m leading him back.

Hey little lamb, the commander seemed to be hailing him. Can you get us straight to command if we can keep you safe? You’re from here, right?

Dustin froze as the juggernaut that had saved him came into view, along with four others. They were all battered, their paint chipped and their parts in six different colors, as if they’d all been repaired several times with other machines. Now that he knew the direction to look, he could see still more behind them – nearly twenty five juggernauts, climbing over walls, slinking across the street – the same machine he was using but taken to the greatest degree they possibly could be. Yeah, he finally answered. I can get you there fast.

Great. We’ve got a homing signal but no map. How fast can you go?

Dustin half laughed. Fast is about the only thing I’m any good at.

Excellent. Cyclops. Let’s get moving – we’re eager to meet our Handler.

Chapter Text

Her palms had been sweating for the last twenty minutes. Some of Brisingamen was probably catching feelings about being the first 86 to set foot inside the Gran Mur by invitation of an Alba in… however many years, but she knew damn well that wasn’t why her palms were sweating.

Lena. She was … right there. Just across the plain, in the next city, less than an hour away, at the city center, and now, so close that they had rescued one of her errant protectors. He was doing pretty well given Shiden was certain he hadn’t been in a Juggernaut more than 24 hours.

What would she say? What would Lena say? She’d been thinking about – edging on dreaming about – this moment for … she wasn’t even sure how long it had actually been. At least a year, knowingly, consciously. But probably a year and a half, since Lena had called her in the dead of night because she was locked in a stairwell while Annette seduced a research scientist into giving them all of the information on human experimentation.

Shiden had only heard the whole story about that operation a year later, when she’d finally put together that Annette, the one who had hacked the PARA-raid system, who had been crunching numbers on the spreadsheet Robert had given them, was Lena’s best friend, and thus probably the one who had “locked” Lean out of the room.

So she’d asked, one night while making dummy recordings for the system so Lena could communicate at will.

“So, are you the friend that locked Lena out of the hotel room for a hook up?”

“…well, that would be something I would do, but I don’t think I’ve done it to Lena, ever. When was this?”

“She called me, last year this time I think, and said she was in a hotel with thin walls and she’d gotten locked somewhere. So she called me. It was weird, like she just needed company or something.”

“That would have been really early in the….” The scientist trailed off suddenly, and Shiden could hear her breathing still, and then swallow – hard. “Oh. Yeah, I guess that would have been the best way to describe it before we got the safe channels.”

“So she wasn’t in a hotel?”

“No,” Annette murmured. “she was locked in the stairwell to a gas chamber.”

Shiden nearly spit her drink. “The what?”

“We were gathering evidence for the human experimentation done on the 86,” the scientist’s voice was soft, almost a little shaky, but that could have been the connection. “I didn’t tell her that the reason I had the key and knew the way was that I’d been flirting with the head researcher all day. Wow, you did this, and oh, I wish I could have proven that theorm about the most heinous, awful shit.”

Morbidly curious, Shiden dared to ask. “Like what?”

“There was the usual,” Annette said, and Shiden heard her chair creak as she leaned back. “With holding food and water, forcing standing, disease research…” she sighed. “And then there was some… real fucked up stuff. Ripping babies from wombs, organ harvesting, purposefully festering wounds type of shit.” She paused, Shiden hearing liquid splash and a few glugs. “Ugh. I can still smell the place. They’d bleached it to hell but if you know, you can still smell it even above the chemicals.”

“Anyway, I told her to go back, didn’t tell her I was meeting him, didn’t tell her how I got the information…”

“Why not?” Shiden asked. “Surely she would have been ok with it?”

“Now she would,” Annette said thoughtfully. “But at the time… I’m not so sure. She knew I was going to seduce him, but I’m not sure she thought through what seduce means.”

Shiden thought about the time Lena had caught her and Brea going at it on the Para-Raid. “…Yeah, that checks out. So you didn’t tell her you were meeting him, told her to go back… and didn’t tell her about the guy then?”

“Didn’t get the chance. He showed up early. I practically threw her in the first door I could find and… unfortunately that door was one that had no escape except the gas chambers on the third floor. So she spent the entire night in that haunted as hell stairway.”

The longer Shiden had thought about, the more she realized what was remarkable about that information, what it meant in a broader sense, the context of what they were doing.

She’d intuited, even back then, that Lena was doing something. That she was making something happen, even if it was small, even if it was behind the scenes. But it wasn’t just that she was doing something. Lena had been putting herself in danger, putting skin in the game, for people that weren’t her. And so was Annette. Lena had spent a night whispering in a stairway of death. Annette had spent a night with a man she clearly was disgusted by. All so they could get information that might never mean anything to anyone about people no one but they cared about.

A year and a half of a crush from afar, having nothing more than a voice and a few newspaper pictures.

It was enough to make her sweat on her face, now. The legion had thinned out somewhat, and Dustin was saying that there had been a bit of a pull back. Adebayo laughed.

“Looks like we made it in time, then. They only do that to regroup and attack worse.”

“I think that’s what the Major was worried about when she sent me out to look.”

“What did you see?” asked Shana.

Over the para-raid, Dustin grew somber. “Endless Legion. So many Dinosauria. Lena says you’ll help but…”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Shana said.

“Or rather, it’s every day,” Adebayo said.

“Then why did she have me look?” Dustin asked.

“She was worried that they had something up their sleeve.” Shiden drawled. “But if you could identify everything, then the thing that took out the Gran Mur isn’t here. It’s just the usual.”

“Just…?” Dustin said softly, but then the river came into view, and the bridges that she knew Lena had blown to pieces by her orders, and she knew that just a little ways back was the command center, outside, where Lena had to be standing, commanding, like a goddess of war given form. She was practically vibrating as they picked their way across a debris field of Legion and Juggernauts and stone and ash. It wasn’t even light outside yet. They still had another three hours to dawn at least.

“Handler one to Brisingamen squadron…” Lena’s voice was quiet, almost wondering, and as Shiden came to the foot of the only bridge still standing in the capital of San Magnolia, the world seemed to fall away. “Welcome to Liberte et Egalite. We’re glad you’re here.”

Shit shit. She’d prepared words for this. Or she’d thought she had. She’d been rehearsing it the whole way here and yet now that the time was here, it all escaped her. She pushed her Juggernaut up, stepping foot on the bridge, ignoring how the people who were on the other side fell back as if they thought that she was going to turn coat and blast them all to hell.

Did they not understand that the 86 knew exactly where they were safest? Even if it was a shit safety, it was still better than the alternative. Not everyone could hear the Legion coming, know what they were thinking.

And then someone stepped forward, brushing past the cowards, also stepping onto the bridge and Shiden felt her body light up with the most intense thrill of terror mixed with joy as she realized that it was an Alban woman with long, silver hair that would be perfect caught up in a crown of lilies, wearing a black mourning uniform with a red cloth tied at her bicep.

Fuck it. She’d just have to figure it out in the moment. That’s what she was best at anyway. Shiden kicked up in her seat, releasing the handle on her cockpit and pushing the Juggarnaut door up, surging to meet Lena standing, folding her arms so no one could see her hands shake, trying not to let her face light up in awe that gods all damn, she’s every bit as beautiful as the pictures, how the fuck is that even possible?

But it was more than beauty. It was a poise, a carrying of burdens with straight shoulders that showed no sign of weariness despite Shiden knowing that she had been working so hard for two years, everything to prepare for this day, this moment, this wink of impossible history.

And then Lena was looking at her, peering up through the wisps of smoke and grit, her hair whipping in the breeze that buffeted them on the bridge. “So,” Lena finally said, “You really are a woman.”

“Don’t be too disappointed,” Shiden replied immediately, without thinking, and then grinned toothily as Lena blinked, cocking her head exactly the way Shiden had always imagined, dreamed, fantasized. She nearly threw back her head and laughed. Fuck. If only Brea had lived to see this!

“Let’s get to work,” Lena replied, signaled for her to come down. “They’ve retreated for now, but it will only last another twenty minutes. Brisingamen unit, open your cockpits and rest – food and drink will be brought.”

“Great,” Shiden cracked her knuckles, jumped down. War wouldn’t be waiting on her crush. “Time to really let loose.”

Chapter Text

It was peculiar how she slipped back into command of Brisingamen squadron from her post like nothing had changed, like she was still sitting cozy in her office and they were on the battle field. It was comforting, in a way, not to look up and around at the people who were watching from a distance (a distance that was respected only because Robert had assigned her a guard detail of trusted men who seemed to actually understand the stakes.)

The area behind you should remain clear so long as you do not break your lines, Brisingamen. Remember, you are protecting the river – the new recruits will stay behind you. If you see something trying to cross on the edges, call it out and they will dispatch to clear the threat.

What if we don’t see it, majesty? Shana asked, deadly serious.  

They’ve had ample time to sneak around our initial squads, Lena replied. Our best guess is that those going around are heading for other cities in the Gran Mur, and not bothering with breaking defense. There’s nothing we can do for them.

Heartless bitch! That was one of the Alban fighters.

Monticlair. See me when your shit is done. Robert’s voice was pleasant over the Para-RAID. Clearly you need some remedial lessons in defensive strategy. Or would you like to go help out the first sector all by your lonesome? It can be arranged. We could pack up a unit with food and water and send you off into the sea of legion. Is that what you want?

Silence.

Well, Soldier? Answer your commander. Is that what you want?

…no sir.

That’s what I fucking thought. Now shut the fuck up and let the Major give the actual fighters their orders. If any of you have a problem with it, you come see me. Got it?

There were only a few affirmations, but the point seemed to be heard. They suffered no more interjections from what Lena had started to refer to as the peanut gallery in her head as she broke Brisignamen into groups and started the operation.

Despite their extended march, the unit was eager to jump into battle. She had to assume that it was because of the opportunity to show the capital fighters how deeply inexperienced they were.

They had already had a lesson in manners when Brisingamen was eating their first meals. All of them were shocked when Miriam brought them freshly made sandwiches with bread, cheese, fresh eggs, and meat. They barely said a word about it, though Lena could hear it in their very careful gratitude to Miriam.

The capital soldiers on the other hand, had kicked up a fuss almost immediately. “Not a lick of seasoning” and “cooked to hell.” Until Robert had shot a bullet in the air and taken one of the chief complainer’s sandwiches for himself and told him to go hungry if he was going to be picky in a damn war zone. After that, the 86 had started to chuckle as they elbowed each other. They think this is bad, they whispered, wait till these babies start eating MREs. That’ll be great.

Lena couldn’t help but agree. Thankfully, all of the restaurants with fresh gardens had been on this side of the river, so they still had a few days of fresh veggies, but that wouldn’t last long, unless practically no more of the 86 squadrons showed up, and then it wouldn’t last long for an entirely different reason.

Thus, when she finally sank into command of Brisingamen again, it was like sinking into a warm, inviting bath after a long day. It had been hard to judge just how terrible the capital soldiers were, because she’d spent so much time fighting them, having Robert interrupt to dress them down, explain what a formation was, having Robert explain what an order meant, remind them that there were real people they were trying to protect… over and over and over…

But Brisingamen knew the stakes. They knew the formations. They knew the orders better than they knew their own names. They all had Para-Raids, they knew how to use them, they knew how to use their rigs.

The tide of battle was still against them, but it was no longer fit to sweep them out to sea within the hour.

Fine-Fingers, do you have the targets?

Yes Handler one, two up and one down.

Good, fire at will – squad two move up to position once executed.

Yes Handler one!

There were no interruptions for nearly an hour – a consistent hour in which the capital soldiers silently sat at attention in their Juggernauts. At one point, Lena switched her coms to Robert alone.

Should we release half of them to rest detail?

Not a chance. Robert drawled. This is rest detail, at least until the next squadron makes it. I want them to stew in the fact that they haven’t had to touch a single legion the entire time your squad has been in charge.

Well, he knew them better than she did.

After hour two, dawn was just beginning to break, and Brisingamen was starting to flag. But just as Lena started to become concerned, there was a shout from one of the sniper squads on lookout duty.

Eysaluna to Handler one – there’s another unit inbound – we can see them fighting their way in!

Relief broke across the back of her neck, and Lena let out breath she’d been holding for more than a year. More then her squad had come. Can you see how many? She asked. Have they hailed you?

Not yet, Majesty, Shiden chimed in. Lena cringed a bit. She doubted the capital soldiers would understand that the nickname was actually a rib, rather than a serious denotation of respect, and would hate her all the more for it. Oh well, she told herself, what’s another level of hatred on top of what I’ve already pulled in? But my guess it it’s at least two units put together – they ones to the north and south of us had talked about meeting up at the Grand Mur and going in together.

Good, Lena sighed. We’ll see about their condition, get them food, and then cycle them to the front, you to the rear, and give the capital soldiers relief.

~^~

Unfortunately, feeding the new units took a little longer than anticipated. Just as with Brisingamen, Lena walked to the bridge to greet the captains of the incoming 86 units in person. One of the Juggernauts of the units came to the front, opened it’s hatch, revealing a whip-thin woman with long golden hair and green eyes. Her face was twisted into a snarl as she stalked from her unit, walking towards Lena on the bridge with fast, heavy steps.

Lena did not move. There was something about her that reminded her of a wounded animal. This woman was dangerous, and not afraid of her.

Of course she wasn’t. To her, Lena was a lily-soft, pampered house cat, with fur that was washed and dried in scented waters. There was no comparison to her feral life.

But when she came within three feet of Lena, she heaved a growl and drew a gun from her waistband, levering it Lena with a cry. “You!”

Behind her, Miriam cried out and dropped the basket of sandwiches she had been bringing for the incoming units and those about to go on relief. Before her, the unit which had just come in was opening their hatches, dirt-smeared faces peering out of their machines like small animals hiding in the woods, watching in stone-faced consideration.

Shiden had warned her this might happen. They’ll be pissed you’re asking them to keep fighting, Majesty.

“Yes.” Lena replied quietly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I don’t need your fucking thanks.” Hearing her talk, Lena was fairly sure this was the captain of the unit south of hers. She had worked with them twice when their normal handler was hung over.

Lena said nothing, staring down the gun without a movement or cringe.

From the command center, she heard Robert shout, and held up a hand behind her. HOLD. She called over the Para-RAID.  

The southern unit commander stared at her for a moment, and the gun started to shake, and then she huffed in frustration. “You’re not afraid?” she growled. “Come on, at least beg for your life.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it in your juggernaut,” Lena said seriously. “It would have been much more appropriate, given what I am.” A handler. An Alba. A white pig.

That drew a laugh, and suddenly the tension fell away like rain rolling off of a roof. She raised her gun back to her shoulder and then holstered it, snorting. “Cyclops warned me it wouldn’t work, but I wanted to see for myself.”

“What did you want?” Lena asked out of curiosity.

“To see you scared,” the 86 replied. “Is that food? Great, we’re starving.”

“Eat,” Lena said. “How long of a fight do you have in you?”

“Four hours once we eat for my unit. Less for the north unit – they hit some resistance and lost their captain.”

Shit, Cyclops interjected. He was named and pretty bad ass, wasn’t he?

Losing a named fighter at this point was a low blow, but Lena only turned to wave Miriam up with her basket of food. “We will keep them with you for now and try to rotate you out as soon as the next units arrive. Does anyone in your unit know plans for arrival on other units?”

The general consensus was that the next unit south was probably inbound, but no one was sure about the next unit north since the captain had been the one to do any communication. His unit expressed that they were fairly sure they were coming, since he had been adamant that coming to the capital was the only chance they had at survival.

It was good enough for hope.

The capital fighters finally dragged their juggernauts across the river and bridge and exited their vehicles. Lena and Robert greeted them with sandwiches and drink, excusing Miriam of the duty as Robert was certain they would be shell-shocked and angry.

He was right, of course. They called order and attention, did a count, and found that a total of sixty out of one hundred and fifty had survived the night.

“Congratulations, recruits. We had calculated based on a survival rate of 3 in 10, but you managed to eek out a rate over 4 in 10.”

They were too exhausted to argue or fight back.

“Now that you’ve seen the actual fighters in action, you have a goal.” Robert continued. “Tell me, Monticlair, did you hear Brisingamen squadron talking back to their handler? Even once?”

Monticlair resisted speaking for a moment, but then sulked out. “No sir.”

“Montgomery, did you hear Brisingamen squadron insulting their handler? Even once?”

“No sir.” Montgomery’s voice was exhausted.

Robert’s narrowed eyes passed over the gathered men. “Tell me,” he said icily, “do you still think you measure up to the 86 in any way, shape or form? Because Brisignamen has been doing fighting just like this for more than a year, and guess what their survival rate is?  Go on, Brittington. What do you think the survival rate is for the 86 who just rolled in to save your ass. Yours was 4 in 10 in 24 hours. What’s theirs in the last year of doing the exact same fighting?”

Brittington said nothing, but Lena could see the tremble in his fists as he resisted saying what he knew was true.

“Come on, Brittington. You a man or a worm? What’s their survival rate?”

“I don’t know sir.” He said. “I don’t know that unit.”

“Oh, well, we can fix that! Major Milenze – what is your unit’s survival rate in the twelve calendar months?” His voice was forcibly pleasant, condescending to the max, and Lena wondered if it was wise. Still, the capital soldiers were Robert’s business, and he had gotten them this far.

He had worded his request very carefully – if he had said in the last year, or 365 days, then Brea’s death would have counted. But he had asked for the last Calander year. “10 in 10,” Lena said. “We have not had a casualty in the last calendar year.”

“And that’s why they are better fighters than you.” Robert gestured. “Now go get some rest, and think about how you’re going to shape up next you’re on the front lines. And boys, do me a favor? If you stick a gun in your mouth, go somewhere we don’t have to clean it up, yeah? Dismissed.”

He turned on a heel and left. The soldiers did not yet dismiss, staring at her with matte, hollow eyes. Lena saluted them briefly. "You did well." She said tersely. 

"Hey," someone piped up. "Two of my buddies asked for a kiss and an ass slap, before they left."

Lena blinked back at them. The words should have incised her. Really? After all of that, they were still going to try this when Robert wasn't breathing down her neck? But instead they ran against a massive wall of worn out dispassion, and she shook her head slowly. It wasn't any different than if they had asked for money.  "Bravo56 ignored me when I told him a spear formation was coming at him, he insisted it was Bear. Bravo58 simply wasn't up to the task." She turned.  "I don't pay debts to dead men."

~^~

Chapter Text

The units arrived steadily for the next week. There were many more than Lena had estimated, even in her most optimistic calculations, and that posed a bit of a problem – mostly food-wise.

Battle-wise, though, as 86 fought their way in and out, after two days, Lena was able to sleep curled onto a cot in her old office – and woke to find Shiden at the door, standing at loose attention with her arms folded. She hadn’t seen Shiden since they arrived, and Lena spent a moment trying to work out what felt so strange and unsettling about her before realizing that she had differently colored eyes. One was dark. The other was practically silver.

As if feeling her gaze, or hearing her shift, Shiden turned to face her properly. “Line is holding fine – we actually pushed them back to victory park, according to Captain Carthage.”

That had been a major goal – Victory park gave them access to a lot of the rich neighborhoods that might have additional supplies. Lena rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wondering if she should chance to look in a mirror. No, they weren’t quite at the point where she could think about vanity. “Any losses?”

“Two, one of the greenhorns and the 86 he tried to leave behind.”

Lena went cold. “…how did that go?”

“Captain Carthage… took care of it,” Shiden said, and pursed her lips. “Majesty, the way he’s going, he’s going to get himself killed by his own men the second it’s safe, you know that, right?”

“You really think so?” Lena asked, frowning. She couldn’t imagine one of the men killing Robert in cold blood just for treating them like soldiers who were out of line. But while she couldn’t read the look on Shiden’s face reliably, she knew that Shiden was serious by the tone of her voice. She sighed. “We agreed that it was more important to get them to fight than to be kind,” she said. “And Carthage can throw his power around. Even now.”

“All right,” Shiden said, and stepped back. “Should I tell them you’re awake?”

“Yes. What time is it?”

“10 in the morning,” Shiden said.

Lena frowned. “I told them to wake me at 7.”

“Robert, Annette, and I agreed you needed the sleep,” Shiden said plainly. “And the fighting is going as expected right now. We got word of two more companies fighting their way in.”

“That’s awfully late,” Lena said, sitting up and starting to try to claw her hands through her hair. Shiden appeared at her side, handing her a brush with a completely unreadable look.

The darker-skinned woman cleared her throat. “They did some reconnaissance on their way in,” She said. “Their leader said they had important information. That’s the only reason I came up here, otherwise we would have let you sleep some more.”

“I thought you said they weren’t here yet?” Lena asked, frowning.

“They aren’t. They aren’t sure they’ll make it.” Shiden said. “So they hailed us to get the information to you on the way in.”

Mid-brush, Lena pawed around the bed, looking for her para-RAID. She’d taken it off, but where had she put it. But Shiden was already there, extending a hand with the para-RAID collar hanging off two fingers.

Lena blinked at the collar, then up at Shiden. How was she doing that? She could hardly tell what Shiden was thinking, but Shiden seemed to instantly know what she needed and wanted and had it in her hands before Lena could even ask. “Thank you,” she said, and her voice was quiet in awe. She delicately plucked the colla from Shiden’s fingers and began sliding it around her neck.

“We’re alive because of you,” Shiden replied, looking away and rubbing her hand across the back of her neck. “Didn’t know what to expect being here, but whatever makes it easier for you to keep doing what you’re doing…” she shrugged. “You can count on me.”

“I’ll try to be worthy of your continued trust,” Lena replied, touched. “Let’s see what that company knows.”

The conversation was… terrifying.

-it’s huge. Something like 100 meters long. Like a boat. Nothing like any of the usual things we see on the battlefield, even the Dinosauria.

Did you see any guns?

Yeah, one really long barrel, almost half the length of the thing over again. A bunch of smaller guns in an array, like it’s trying to protect the main barrel.

Movement?

We didn’t see it move at all. We didn’t see legs. Or wheels. I couldn’t tell you if it’s stationary or moves.

Where was it?

The unit began to describe the location. With Shiden’s help to translate ways 86 described distance, Lena pulled out a map and began to draw possible areas, frowning.

Were there any signs of firing recently? She finally asked. Disturbed ground? Shell litter?

No, was the first answer. Then: Well, wait. There was disturbed ground. Everything behind it was ripped up, which was odd. I wondered if the barrel had swung around. It was like it had shot the ground behind it, then turned around.

Lena grimaced, leaning into the map. “Shiden,” she murmured, “Can you get Robert up here? Annette if you can find her?”

Shiden was gone in a flash, and Lena addressed the 86 on the para-raid with her. Stay with me, if you can. There may be more questions.

Robert was only a few moments. “Annette’s asleep,” he said, “Passed out with Zach about an hour ago.”

“Let them sleep,” Lena replied, “Have you slept?”

“You made me sleep first,” he said with a wry smile, “Remember?”

“Only for two hours,” Lena frowned. “Which is how long I was supposed to sleep.”

Robert waved. “We actually found a few former handlers among the survivors. They’re taking it all a hell of a lot more seriously now that the battle field is two miles away rather than two hundred. Between that and the 86 practically running themselves…” he shrugged. “I hate to say it’s going well when there’s basically nothing left west of the river but we’re here.”

“Have we started scavenging?” Lena asked.

Robert shook his head. “Still clearing the mines. That aside, why’d you call?”

Lena tapped her map. “One of the teams called in to report. They did reconnaissance to see what hit the Gran Mur.”

Robert’s eyebrows shot up. “What possessed them to do that?”

Shiden interjected quietly. “There was a big blockade when they tried to enter the 85 sectors and they lost half their people, so they decided to fall back into the country and regroup until the area calmed down.  When they got further out they realized there was something up with the area and started scouting.”

Lena relayed what the team had said they found, describing the area, the shape, and the disturbance in the ground. Robert’s face grew darker as she went on.

“…we knew there was a new unit, and they destroyed the Gran Mur. With a barrel that size, I understand how, but how did they build it out there, and is it still dangerous?”

Robert licked his lips, fingers supporting his chin for a moment before he turned. “You got a roads map, rather than political?” he asked.

Lena frowned. “Yes,” she said, but what good would a roads map do? None of the roads were passable anymore. She pulled the map out of her drawers and laid it over top the other map, re-drawing the pencil lines she’d used to mark the way the scouts had described their path.

Robert leaned in close, squinting at the paper intently, and then let out his breath. “Shit.” He said softly, and pointed. “Did they see a railroad anywhere near by?”

Did you see a railroad? Lena asked. Anywhere close?

Sure, we were crossing it back and forth the whole time – it comes out of the Gran Mur and goes west.

Lena relayed this, and Robert nodded. “Railgun.” He said. “It’s using the railways. They didn’t build it out there. It probably only moved there in the last week or month at the most.” He folded his hands and breathed into them, as if cold. “And that means they aren’t done firing it. They could even come closer – all the way up to the Gran Mur.”

Lena felt her face drain of blood. “What kind of damage would that do here?” She asked.

“If the really travelled that far…” Robert sighed. “Well, it might explain why we’re having such an easy time.”

Shiden shifted. “So,” she said. “When do we leave to destroy it?”

Robert raked hands through his hair, eyes tight with worry. “The sooner the better, but…” he glanced up at Lena. “We’re going to need a plan.”

“We’ll get started.” Lena said. Fraudster company, do everything in your power to return to us alive. We need your information. She paused. And if you’d like a different name, let me know.

We would, actually, the leader replied, and he sounded a little touched. Remember us as Valkyrie company, if you would. We were calling ourselves that anyway.

“Valkyrie company has brought us valuable information,” Lena spoke aloud and over the para-RAID for everyone’s benefit. “Let’s not waste it.”

Chapter Text

“We can spare about 75% of our fighting force now,” Robert said, his face as dark as the sky was that day. It was storming, which was somewhat good for them, as the legion seemed to have realized that the easiest course of action was to simply wait out their resistance like waiting out a toddler’s temper tantrum, and that meant conserving their energy and utilizing mainly solar energy for their operations. Once they’d survived the first week, night time had become practically safe.

“That much?” Lena asked, frowning. “That would really only leave your people plus the 86 who aren’t in top condition, wouldn’t it?”

“Exactly,” Robert nodded. “But if this operation isn’t a success… we’re dead anyway. So we’ve got to bet high.”

“You’ll need rations,” Shiden said, a hand rubbing her chin. It amused Lena to think that perhaps she should have been a man after all, the way she rubbed her chin as if she had a beard. When she’d asked, Shiden had said she picked the motion up from her father, and now it was the only thing she really knew she had left of him, so she wasn’t about to stop. “Do we even have enough rations to go around for that many?”

“No,” Miriam, who had abruptly risen from a high-end seamstress to managing the food and water supply of a ruined city. “Not in ready-mades. The MRE’s were burned through in the first week, when we were still figuring out what was still around.”

Lena pursed her lips, but Zach cut in before she could think any harder on it. “We just got Victory park back. We knew we’d need to do some salvaging around there. Let’s push in and see if we can find anything.  I know some places around there – it’s my old neighborhood. Dustin is from near there too.”

Lena glanced at Annette, gauging her reaction. The scientist was stone faced – Lena often had trouble reading her, but this was even more inaccessible than usual.

Robert folded his arms. “I don’t like you going in this early,” he said, “but in the time it would take for everything to definitely detonate or cool off, the rail gun is that much closer to repair.”

“We can send a few with you,” Shiden said. “We’ve got experience with salvaging in ruins – especially some of the people from up north – you can still find good stuff in those cities if you know how to look.”

“All right,” Lena said, nodding. “Tonight, after sundown. Shiden, get a few salvagers together, and get at least four fresh people who can escort in their juggernauts. Zach, get Dustin and anyone else from that area. Mark four places on a map, maximum, so we know where you’re going and Robert and I can send an advance patrol to draw out any stragglers.”

“I already know right where to go,” Zach said with a grin, picking up four green pins and going to the city map. Tracing the map with a finger, murmuring street names lovingly, he placed the pins around one city block, one at each corner. “A block with a store on every corner,” he said. “All we have to do is get there, and I’m sure there’ll be some canned and tinned goods to sift through.”

Lena glanced over the map. He was right, it was a good spot. Far enough away from the front line that it wouldn’t even be visible, and four stores within a 1 block area – that meant they could drop everyone in one spot, and have a single drop point.

“All right,” she said, “I’ll leave you in charge of that. Once we know how much provisions we have, we’ll make the final plans for how many people are coming.”

~^~

“Hey,” Zach looked up from loading another box onto a scavenger he’d talked Robert out of, only to lose his breath to love like wild violets – springing up at the worst times, in the worst places.

She was silent for a moment, staring at the ground between them with a near-pout. “Why’d you have to volunteer?” Annette asked under her breath. “You’re not a fighter.”

“No, I’m not.” He paused. “That’s why, actually. We can’t lose fighters.”

She covered her mouth, looking as if she wanted to scream. He didn’t take it back. They both knew it was true. In the scheme of things, he was perfectly expendable. He didn’t have any expertise, like Annette – or rather, the expertise he did have had already been utilized in blowing the bridges. He wasn’t a leader like Lena or Robert. He wasn’t in charge of anything other than organizing Juggernaut fixes, and honestly he wasn’t very equipped for that either – most of the engineers lived on the poor side of the river – they’d become engineers for a reason after all – so they were there and ready to work by the second day, though they’d bitched and moaned about it the whole time.

“I’ll come too, then,” she started.

Zach laughed. “Don’t you dare,” he said, and stepped forward to envelope her in a hug, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair. He wanted to lie to her, say it would be fine, that he’d be back before she woke up in the morning. But what if that was her last memory of him? What if he did die, and the last words he had spoken to her were a farce, a lie? He could only control whether he lived or died up to a point, after all.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, and Zach closed his eyes. So, if he did die, what could he tell her now, to make it better?

Well, the answer to that was nothing. She played cold and unfeeling, but she was as scared as any of them.

Ok, what could he at least tell her that was true?

“I love you.” That was true as he could make it. It had been two weeks and one day since he’d arrived on her doorstep soaking wet and confessed with absolutely no inkling that she might actually accept his feelings, much less return them, in her own, somewhat reserved way.

“If I die, it was fun. It was beautiful. It was a total surprise. It was comfortable. It was good.”

That was all true, too. If nothing else, he could give her truth.

“I’ll wish there could have been more, but we need food. Not just for the people going to take on the rail gun, but for the people here. That’s not going to change either. If I die to feed people… well, I guess that’s how it is.”

“Stop it,” Annette whispered. “You’re not going to die. You’re going to be just fine. It’s just a grocery run.”

He turned his head to kiss her cheek. “I love you. If I die, please live, ok?”

“You’re going to be fine,” she whispered again, head curled against his chest and staring at one of her hands against his chest. “You’re going to be back before I wake up.”

“And you’re going to get up in the morning and keep those para-raids running whether I’m back or not,” Zach said, pressing his forehead against hers to look into her silver eyes. “Promise?”

She sighed. Her breath smelled terrible, but his did too – no running water would do that do a person. Miriam had passed out gum two days ago and they’d spent the entire afternoon hidden away, kissing and reveling in how it tasted like mint. He smiled at the thought of how she’d laughed when he yelped at how it felt when she licked him – like tingles and the best kind of burning – and how she’d mewled when he returned the favor.  

“Promise.” She said.

“Good,” he said, and leaned in to steal a kiss. “Any requests, while I’m out grocery shopping?”

“My hair is a mess,” she said reaching up to flip her dull locks, “shampoo, conditioner?”

“I’ll pick up a face mask while I’m at it,” he said with a wink. “Only the best for my baby.”

“Oh good grief, you are not smooth enough for that,” Annette crossed her arms, but it only lasted for a moment before they both dissolved into giggles.

At least, he thought to himself, if it’s her last memory, it was good. It was true.

~^~

It was never going to be enough.

When the self-propelled mine rose from the dust and rubble of the third store, he had no other immediate thought.

~^~

Later, the survivors would recount to Robert that they had tapped their way into the store, cautious and careful at first. But after several minutes of tense clearing, just like they had done at the first and second store, they had put away their exploration gear and gotten to pulling shelves aside, and that was where the self-propelled mine had been trapped.

Zach leaped forward, tackling the mine. It exploded on impact, but because he’d been on top of it, and because he’d tackled it behind another shelf, no one had suffered major injury.

Chapter Text

“Lena,” Annette’s voice was hoarse, and her hand trembled as it grasped Lena’s sleeve between two fingers. Lena turned to look at Annette in the face. She could do that much after Zach. Annette swallowed hard, and for a moment she was afraid Annette might tell her that she was going to come with, or die, or something horrid. But instead, she forced a smile that looked more like a grimace – but at least she was trying. “It was only two weeks. I’m not going to die. So go out and make it worth it, ok?”

They both knew it was more than two weeks. It had been more than two years of Zach being in their lives, from that time he asked Lena out to lunch and confessed that he had realized the issue with the Juggernauts, knew that they weren’t just computerized drones. Just because Zach had thrown a shot with a prayer and it worked at the last minute didn’t mean he’d had no value otherwise.  He’d been their friend, a confidant, and a lynchpin in their operation to save some part of San Magnolia. But Lena could see that she had to lie. She tipped her hat, touched the black armband at her bicep. “I’m taking him with me,” she said softly. “Just like the others.”

Shiden crept up silently beside Lena, nodding to Annette as if she were a widow of war. “We’re ready to move out, highness.”

Annette gasped softly with the effort of holding back tears and failed, but nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Go on. They’re waiting.”

There wasn’t much more to say. They knew the score between the two of them, there was nothing to say to each other. Annette had refused all comfort in her grief for the last day, had barely reacted to the news of Zach’s death other than to detachedly murmur something about it not being their fault when the others who had been on the food scouting mission tried to tell her how sorry they were that they hadn’t seen the mine, hadn’t run fast enough, hadn’t done something so that Zach would not have needed to make his sacrifice. But Lena needed to go. If she didn’t, then the food and supplies Zach had died for would mean nothing.

Annette turned and walked back. Lena glanced back, and then forward.

“Highness,” Shiden murmured. “She doesn’t look so good. She’d going to end up hurting herself.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Lena said.

“I don’t mean on purpose,” Shiden said, glancing back again. “I mean she’s going to keep herself from eating, sleeping, crying, everything, until something else takes her out. People do it all the time.”

“She…” Lena trailed off, looked over at Shiden. “You?”

Shiden looked to the side. They had not said Brea’s name the entire time Shiden had been here. They had never spoken of it, even obliquely. But both of them instantly knew exactly what they were talking about. “Shana had to get Adebayo to help beat me to a pulp. That’s why you didn’t hear from me for a few weeks.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Most of the time we know better. We know it’s stupid to have a lover in a war, when y’ain’t anything but cannon fodder. So we just compartmentalize and call it good. But sometimes…. It gets to you anyway. And depending on who you are, someone has to come in and either beat you up, let you beat them up, or get you to cry it out.” She paused. “Sometimes they need to fuck too. Depends.”

“How do you know which to do?” Lena asked, glancing askance as she started to walk again. Beating up Annette sounded like the opposite of what she needed. Getting beat up by her was laughable – Lena was not particularly physically capable and even she could get Annette in a choke hold. But to get her to cry….?

Shiden shrugged. “They’ll show you pretty quick. You just have to not leave them alone.”

“But we’re leaving.” Lena pointed out as they came up to the fleet, buzzing with activity. “Can we do it in five minutes?”

“Hell no,” Shiden looked around, paused, and pursed her lips. “Get Carthage over here.”

~^~

Lena looked like she was about to spit lemon seeds. Carthage looked focused and cool, as was usual these days. It was amazing how much Lena still disliked Carthage. Hell, Shiden wasn’t terribly fond of the guy, but he wasn’t nearly as terrible as a lot of the white pigs around here, even though his family was the worst of the worst. It was probably the whole engagement thing – Lena was not interested in forgiving anyone who encroached on her austerity, and honestly, Shiden couldn’t blame her. The whole thing worked for Lena’s command.

“You said you had a last minute order?” Robert asked, cocking his head at Lena.

Lena’s lips were still puckered. “Not me,” she said. “Shiden. You explain it. I’m going to check the last of the preparations.”

“Sure thing, Highness,” Shiden said. Robert turned to her, his deep blue eyes serious, and Shiden noted the bags under his eyes.

“The scientist lady,” Shiden said. “The one who is keeping the para-RAID system up. She’s not right.”

“Well yes,” Robert said. “In case you missed it, she and Zach were an item.”

“No, I know,” Shiden said. “But she hasn’t cried, eaten, or slept since.”

Robert frowned. So he knew what that meant, even if Lena didn’t. “I wasn’t there when they told her,” he said. “She didn’t cry?”

“Not more than the tears you’d shed for a cold wind,” Shiden said. “We’re going to be gone for a week. Lena can’t keep an eye on her. We can’t afford for the only person who actually understands the para-RAID system to lose focus.”

“And we can’t lose her to something stupid like wandering where she shouldn’t because she can’t sleep.” Robert finished. He sighed. “Shana told me about what ya’ll do for that.” He glanced behind Shiden at Lena, already among the fighters, speaking with them, and sighed. “Does Lena understand what you might be asking me to do? Is she ok with that?”

“You know her, Carthage,” Shiden shook her head. “She’s in her own world. She doesn’t understand how us mortals operate.”

That drew a laugh from him.

“I think if she comes back and her friend is no longer a ghost, she won’t care how you did it.” Shiden said seriously. She paused. Should she say what Robert needed to hear? Because someone probably needed to say it so he could help Annette with a clear conscience.  She studied his face, realized he was still looking over her shoulder at Lena. Yeah. She needed to spell it out.

Shiden waved her hand in his face until his eyes were back on hers. “You and I both know there’s no point in hoping she’ll choose you eventually.” She said, very, very quietly. “That world where she was going to marry you is gone. Your engagement was broken the moment the legion attacked, remember?”

Robert blinked, frowned, blinked again, as if he were trying to process what she said. Finally, the entire message came through, and he let out a breath, shoulders dropping as if Shiden reminding him of that lost hope was the final key in the lock of his tension. “Fuck.”

Shiden reached out, clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodded in solidarity. “Yeah.”

“It was a shitty world anyway,” Robert muttered. “All right. I’ll figure it out. Good luck out there.”

“Luck ain’t got shit to do with it,” Shiden said with a mock salute and a grin. “We’ve got Bloody Regina.”

Chapter Text

Holy shit. Holy shit. Shiden could not believe what she was seeing. She’d had a suspicion that maybe the unit which had taken down the rail gun was something special, but as they drew closer, Lena riding primly on her juggernaut across the field of red flowers, Shiden finally made out the splotch on the side of the unit.

A headless grim reaper. Suddenly the moves that Shiden had seen the juggernaut-like thing making, the recklessness, the preternatural understanding of how the railgun moved and the sheer fact that it was still in one piece after the fight… it all fell into place. Of course it had fought like an 86. Of course it had survived. It was him.

She’d almost sputtered it out. That’s the goddamn Reaper. But then reality had struck her behind the ears and instead she had stopped after you know that’s…. wait, no, you never saw it.

Thank goodness Lena had been too distracted – and frankly, probably exhausted – to pursue what Shiden had said before realizing first, who the pilot of the Federacy unit was, second, that him being here meant he’d lived, and finally, what that would mean to Lena.

It wasn't her place to spoil the surprise. Being able to know before Lena did was treat enough.

Well, she thought to herself leaning back in her juggernaut with a smirk, it’s a good thing I had already more or less given up on her. “Sorry, Brea,” she murmured to the sky. “We lost this one.”

For some reason though, she wasn’t too mad about it. Maybe it was because if he had survived, if he was here, then there was hope for the rest of them. For that sort of hope, she was willing to give up on Lena ever understanding just how loyal Shiden really was.

~^~

They were both pacing. Idly, he wished that he had saved at least a little of that whiskey for a moment like this. Robert glanced across the room at Annette, who was fiddling with a para-raid, eye narrowed in concentration.

He’d waited for evening after they left, asking Miriam to keep an eye on her while he set up the remaining troops with watches and rotations. That evening, he’d found her toying with a tool in the window of the office he and Lena had taken over once they established their foothold through the first offense. It was the general’s office, with a surprisingly intact view of the city across the river, so he always had his face to where the enemy was coming from. Privately, he suspected the general was still alive somewhere – he hadn’t gone with Lena’s uncle, and rumors said they had seed his aides collecting rations and then immediately disappearing.

How many higher ups had scurried into hidey holes? Worse, when would they come out?

It wasn’t worth thinking about, really. Probably soon though. Two months in a bug out shelter was a lot, especially if you weren’t taking the warnings about a legion invasion seriously.

Annette had shut him down before he’d even gotten the offer out – and he’d even intended to start with offering to let her beat him up.

“Don’t.” Annette looked up at him, pushing her glasses up her nose and standing a little straighter. “I’m not interested, and if I’m that bad, I guess I’d better pull myself together.”

“Don’t be a dumbass,” he’d spat, “there’s at least four systems that need repairing, and Lena is at the front – we can’t…”

“I know you can’t afford to lose me,” Annette sighed. “I know. I need to get started on those.” She slapped her cheeks, smiled for the first time in days. “Besides. I promised.”

And that was that. She still seemed a little sad, but quite suddenly, it no longer seemed like they were on the brink of losing her. He’d been keeping an eye on her, just in case. She’d already gotten one para-raid working just since they’d been sitting there.

There was a knock on the door. Miriam poked her head in, immediately addressing Annette without so much as glancing at him. “Hey love, I’ve got dinner. Will you eat?”

“What is it?” Annette asked, but she was already putting aside her work, clearing space for a meal when she had barely eaten in days.

What am I, chopped liver?

“Just some MRE, but it’s the beef stew one.” Miriam stepped into the office and despite trying not to shift and spook her, she suddenly realized Robert was there and jumped. “Oh! Hi Captain Carthage. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

She had turned a rather fetching shade of crimson, and it suddenly occurred to Robert that Miriam had been there to see Shiden and Lena off too and there had been a few hours there where he had specifically told Miriam to keep track of Annette.  He hadn't seen her standing there while he talked to Shiden specifically but... had she heard? 

Interesting.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, side-eyeing Annette. “Just here trying to command the last vestiges of a dumb-ass country’s military.”

“Oh shut up, Carthage,” Annette said amiably, and waved to Miriam. “Come here, I’ll share with you – you haven’t eaten either, have you?”

“A-at least let me get something for the captain,” Miriam stuttered just a little, shoving the MRE in Annette’s hands and bustling out of the office, still beet red.

Annette, on the other hand, was cool as cucumber, and started to tear open her MRE, placing each component on the table beside her para-raids.

“Sooooo,” Robert said.

“Don’t even start.”

“I was just going to say what a lovely person Miriam is,” Robert said airily. “So kind, gentle, and really excellent at support.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there,” Annette said as she started to smash the crackers which came with her meal in the bag. “She’s been my friend for a very long time.”

“Is that so?” He lifted his mug to take a sip of tea.

“Oh shut up.” She took a bite of her stew, glowering at him. “Look, at least you know I didn’t turn you down because of your looks.”

“You’re absolutely right.” He deadpanned back, “I look terrible in a dress.”

Despite the tension of knowing that they could easily die if Lena wasn’t successful, of being charged with keeping them all safe while most of the force was hundreds of miles away, of being concerned that they were close to losing the one person who could fix and build their only real communication system… Robert couldn’t help but snort into his drink, which in turn made Annette guffaw, and by the time Miriam came back with his meal, they were both practically rolling on the floor, howling in mirth.

Chapter Text

“The railgun is down!” The messenger was one of his trainees, breathless and grinning from his run up to the command center that was still situated in the middle of the street across from the bridge they had taken down two months ago. “And I barely had to dodge anything on my way here. The main force sets to come back tomorrow – when we realized they were retreating they decided to lay low so there wasn’t any unnecessary battle on the way back.”

“Say it again,” Robert said, his throat clogged. “Louder. Shout it.”

He grinned wider, threw back his arms and head, and crowed to the sky. “THE RAILGUN IS DOWN!”

Robert could hear the gasps and ripples of chatter from the various people who had business being near them. He pulled his cap tighter to his head to give himself a moment to take a breath, keeping himself from weeping in relief with a grin. “Well done. Now what else? How many casualties?”

“None, sir.”

Robert blinked, Annette coming up beside him. He frowned. Delaying a return because their troops had taken a lot of casualties and were not able to take more made sense. But this? “None?”

“I know, sir. But none, at the time that I left, which was after the railgun went down. It was amazing – there was an unknown force already fighting the railgun when we arrived, and the Major ordered us to support them – we thought they were dead for sure but after a few vollies from us they were able to get in close and take it out.”

“Unknown force? One on one?” Robert glanced at Annette, who looked a little spooked. He turned back to the cadet. “I think you’d better start from the beginning. Have you got any recordings we can look at?”

He did, and as Robert watched the fight from the cadet’s point of view, something seemed… off. Not just the fact that they now had confirmation of another country’s survival, and in something that looked like an extremely upgraded juggernaut no less, but also as he watched the lone unit take on the railgun. It was… preternatural. Creepy. Desperate. It didn’t help that Annette, also watching with him, seemed more and more agitated as the recording went on, until she left the room, far before the most shocking part, when Lena ran straight into the field. They couldn’t hear what Lena said, since she had turned her radio to try to contact the other unit, but it was…odd. Nostalgic. Something in him felt sad as she raised her arms and greeted the unit as if she knew the pilot, as if she understood them on some level that she would never see or understand him on.

By the time they were done with the recording, there was a small celebration brewing in the streets. People were outside, the streets around the command center were fuller than they had been since the night they were all forced to this side of the river, and some brave or stupid souls were sliding down the river banks to go to the other side of the river.

“Should we try to stop them?” Annette asked.

Robert shook his head. “We don’t have the numbers to do that without force right now,” he said. “Besides, I’d bet that’s a lot of the poorer people who are going to try to loot their way to a noble title and fat lot of good that will do them when most of the banks were trampled and burnt.” He paused, glanced at her, then looked back out to the still-growing throng of people. “Maybe put on the loudspeakers that if they go to the other side, they need to watch out for self-propelled mines, though. Then at least we tried.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll go get that recorded now.”

“Use a man’s voice,” he said.

“I know.” She replied.

He sighed. Of course she knew. It was Lena he’d have to remind. Scratching the back of his head – maybe a retreat of the legion meant they could focus on plumbing, and then a shower. Wouldn’t that be a treat? – he turned back to the screens displaying each of the scout teams. Should he call them back? No, not yet, he needed to have them ensuring that there really weren’t any more legion in the capital space.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and plans of where to station each scout now that he barely registered the heavy footfalls and the cheers and shouts behind him, until the footfalls reached the stairs of the platform they had built for the command center. The wood made a hollow click beneath heavy rubber boots. Robert shot up straight, horror, terror, and fury blooming in his chest. He would recognize those footfalls anywhere – the robotic but graceful tempo of someone who followed and enforced the law with an iron fist but also knew how to fight so fluidly that he was undefeated in the training yards.

Still standing ramrod straight, Robert turned on a heel, his hand already rising to salute by instinct, because Goddess knew it couldn’t be anyone but him.

“General Kaiser, sir.” The general looked the picture of health: he was not gaunt, he was clean-shaven and unlike Robert, his hair was still in a perfect fade. His boots were shined and his clothes were clean. Immediately Robert knew two things: the general had been prepared for the invasion and he not set foot outside in two months. He probably even had some servants with him, possibly a significant amount of family. This definitely corroborated the rumors that people had seen the servants of major officials in food lines but no where else.

“Carthage,” Kaiser said, his lips tight. “A little shaggy for the uniform, aren’t we?”

The horror and terror shrank under the weight of anger briefly. He struggled not to let the observation get the better of him. It could have been a joke, but he wasn’t sure. He might have been laying the groundwork to tell Robert it wasn’t all that bad and dismiss their work during the siege. If Kaiser was showing himself, that meant his servants knew that the legion had mostly retreated from the capital. That meant that anyone else who had managed to get to a shelter also knew, or would know soon.

“We’ve been a little busy, sir,” Robert replied cautiously. If Kaiser was showing up now – right now – only two hours after the Legion retreated, he and Lena were in trouble. They had not made friends during this siege. They had not pulled punches with the citizens and the soldiers. Kaiser had to know the situation on the surface, his servants standing in food lines would have told him.

“Hrm. Not exactly a good excuse for good grooming. The military has a reputation to uphold, don’t you agree?”

A reputation of hiding underground while your underlings who begged you to prepare do all of the work? Robert gagged the word down, strangled them in his stomach which roiled in fury. Goddamnit. Kaiser was already winning this gambit and he had been out of ammo to begin with. Caught with his pants down, so to speak. He’d never imagined that they would find out about retreat this quickly, nor that they would pounce on the moment this quickly.

Kaiser glanced at his screens, slowly walking around the platform, ignoring Robert’s lack of reply. His hands linked behind his back, steely eyes flicking over every scout’s report, every instrument, every order and note they had written on the board.

“I hear you and Major Mileze held the line.” He finally said. “I see you cannibalized headquarters to do it. This will take a while to clean up.”

His vision was clouded in red. He’d never been so close to killing a man in cold blood, and only the knowledge that every citizen for at least ten blocks had seen him already, celebrated his return, not spent a thought to why he was clean, shaven, smartly cut, wearing perfectly pressed cloths as if he had stepped through a portal in time directly from the day of the invasion – while all of them were in worn and ragged clothes, gaunt with hunger, saving the rainwater from their back stoops, had all lost at least one person in their family in the last two months….

If he killed Kaiser now, they would all know it was him, and they would absolutely lynch him.

“Yes sir. I’m prepared to return headquarters to its former functionality as soon as we get the power grid stable.”

Kaiser waved, as if to say that wasn’t important – never mind it was the whole reason they’d moved outside in the first place, where they could see the wires and didn’t have to worry about a stray mortar round knocking a wire out of alignment in some vent no one could get to. “Already being seen to. You should have looked for an engineer.”

They had. Zach had been the one to advise them that being outside had more benefits than drawbacks.

“Our Engineer died in action a week ago,” Robert said. Where the hell was this man’s empathy.

“I ought to have figured you had one after all,” Kaise said, picking up a sheaf of notes Lena had left. “What with blowing the bridges and all. Probably for the best that he’s gone – he would have been put on trial immediately for that.”

“Blowing the bridges is the only reason we were able to withstand the siege, sir.”

“Nonsense. There were plenty of other places to take a stand. There was no need to bring the pigs into the city’s vicinity. Victory park would have been my choice. Not just defensible but poetic.”

They had considered Victory park, but Lena had been concerned about proximity to headquarters, flanking, citizen interference, and a host of other things. In the end, the bridges had been the only real option.

“Victory park was not deemed defensible enough for a siege. The river was the best choice.”

“And who did you consult to decide this, Carthage?”

“Major Mileze.”

Kaiser had the nerve to scoff  at that. The only handler to deal with the Reaper for more than a week, the only handler to have a casualty rate at zero for multiple weeks, the one who had written a report predicting this exact scenario, and he scoffed.

But he said nothing. Instead, he glanced out at the crowd that had started to gather around the platform as they spoke, people with hope glinting in their eyes, a prayer in their hearts. Robert could practically hear their thoughts buzzing in the air. Now that Kaiser was back, he looked so powerful and perfect next to Robert – an idol cast in gold against Robert’s dinged up and rusted carbon steel – maybe now things would go back to normal.

Maybe, unlike Robert and Lena, Kaiser would tell them the lies that made them beautiful, brave, and good.

Fuck.

Kaiser turned back to Robert, raised his voice. “You’ve done well by your country, Colonel. Congratulations on your coordination of the retreat.” He said evenly, as the crowd looked on with bated breath. He held out a hand to shake. “We’ll take it from here.”

Fuck. Within ten minutes, the general had completely wrested control of the narrative from him, and now he had backed Robert into a soft transfer of power. If he refused to shake the general’s hand now, he would be completely shut out from any subsequent decisions regarding their defense, the clean-up, the treatment of the 86 from here. He would be fast-tracked to retirement, and from the way the general was acting, his parents had not been among the ones to be be laying low for the last two months, so his family name didn’t mean a lot now.

He took a breath, the world slowing down as he considered his options.

Option one – shake his hand, smile, play along, let the general have it. When Lena got back, it would be a disaster. She would shout and make speeches, everyone would ignore her as they had before because Kaiser promised the return of the good life for them, where Lena promised only hardship and guilt.

Option two – refuse the hand shake, try to talk Kaiser into recognizing more of their role. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Kaiser was trying to wrench reality into a narrative that suited him – he would probably claim that he and the other generals who had been surviving were in contact with him and Lena this whole time, calling the shots – that was why he was criticizing their choice to blow the bridges, bring the 86 in – if he was going to take credit for those things, he also had to take responsibility for the less savory parts of it.

Before he managed to think of an option three though, there was a shocked, disbelieving voice at the foot of the platform.

“General Kaiser?”

The general turned, blinking as Annette climbed the stairs, her stained lab coat fluttering behind her, fixing her glasses to sit straighter on her nose. She did not look pleased.

“Ah, Major Penrose. I’m so glad to see you aliv-“

“Shut up!” Annette snapped. “What the fuck are you doing alive? Why are you here now? Where have you been these last two months!?” She stalked up to his clothes. “Look at your clothes! They’re perfectly clean! Do you see me? Do you see all those people out there?” she pointed at the crowd. “None of us have clean clothes because we’ve been out here fighting and surviving without any help from you and now you waltz in and try to say you’ll take it from here?! We thought you were dead!”

“Major Penrose!” The general sounded shocked, holding up his hands, “I think you’re a little hy,”

“I am not hysterical! I am furious! You are clean shaven! You have a perfect hair cut right now. You smell freshly bathed and you have cologne on – how DARE you?” She turned to the crowd, “When was the last time any of you had a bath? I haven’t had anything but a damp washcloth in a month – you?”

“Six weeks!” someone shouted, and to Robert, it sounded a little like Miriam. He looked over and to his surprise, found the crowd almost looking like they were teetering, confused, like Kaiser had dazzled them, and then Annette tossed water to bring them to their senses.

“Since the beginning!” another shouted.

“Three weeks!”

“Well, I simply found my uniform folded, still clean from before the siege,” Kaiser said, holding up his hands as if to mollify them. “And of course I keep cologne with me. It was my first bath in a while too, you know.”

Annette sneered, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. “Clean shaven face without a nick, not a bump. You had someone do it for you. Razors are on ration you know – they’re needed to cut wire and cloth. Which barber did this for you?”

“I-, it was my man. He kept a small pack back for the family.”

“Your family is you, your wife, and your son, who is ten. Tell me, is he as plump cheeked as you?” She turned to the crowd again. “Look at his face, look at mine! You think he’s missed a meal these last two months! He still fills out his uniform perfectly – meanwhile, me and everyone else here I’d bet your cloths are fitting like sacks right now.” She whirled back on the general. “Where did you get the food, huh?”

“Our house is well-stocked Major Penrose, now enough of –“

“Well stocked enough for two months of a siege?” She interrupted. “And your house is on the other side of the river – the entire block where your house sat is a wreck. You expect me to believe you survived at your house?”

Robert coughed. “He walked up from main street,” he offered, glancing over at the crowd. He and Annette couldn’t say it. The crowd had to realize it themselves. “So if you walked up from main street, where were you staying? And why is this the first time we’re seeing you?”

“You’ve seen me,” Kaiser insisted. “You even saluted me when I first walked up.”

He was trying to turn the crowd back to him. “I salute a lot of people,” Robert said. “Or did you forget that my fiancé is a higher rank than me?”

“And I sure as fuck haven’t seen you,” Annette shouted. “And I still want to know how you’re so well fed. If you were staying at a safe house on main street, and you had enough food, and razors, and enough room to have your man, and we never saw you outside getting supplies….”

“You had a safe room on main street?” Robert asked slowly. “Wow, and you just let Jerome Karhlstal and the other men walk out there to die?”

There was a flutter of whispers and one gasp of horror in the crowd – just what he’d been hoping, one of the wives of those men was still alive and had seen Kaiser, recognized him, and come.

“But how did you get that saferoom stocked?” Annette pressed. “Did you steal from the people here? We’ve had supplied go missing…”

“I would never!” Kaiser cried, “How dare you imply such a thing! We were entire independent underground – only our servants came aboveground to get food and water and news.”

“Couldn’t even provide for your servants? So how did you manage to stockpile food?”

“You stockpiled food too!” Kaiser shot back. “Don’t think we didn’t realize where all those MRE came from – you had marked them as expired!”

“Yes,” Robert said, with a serene smile. “I did. But I did it because I knew the siege was coming and we would have to feed a city of people. To stockpile enough food for two months, you would have had to…” he paused, pulling a hand up to his mouth in his very best impression of surprise. “Sir… did you…?”

There was a moment of silence, as if the crowd was holding its breath, and then someone – again, Robert could have sworn it was Miriam, “He knew! He had to have known!”

Annette sneered. “Disgusting,” she spat. “You did read the report, and you knew it was true.”

“I knew nothing,” Kaiser said, but the whispers in the crowd were growing. “Every military has a series of safe rooms that are fully stocked – its standard procedure to have a place to run.”

“A place to run not a place to hide and abandon your people.” Annette shot back. “How many others are alive? Where are they? Who are they? We’ve been out here fighting, suffering, dying, and you have the nerve to come out and take over like nothing happened? Like you didn’t abandon us? You didn’t do shit to earn the retreat, your name doesn’t get to be attached to it when you ignored Vladilena’s Mileze’s report two years ago. You don’t get to talk about the bridges when you could have given us supplies to march out to the railgun,” Annette’s voice broke, “And then he’d still be alive. He’d still be alive for you to put on trial like a goddamn coward!”

The general brought himself up to his full height, face filled with violence, and Robert smoothly stepped between him and Annette before he could raise a hand to her, because Annette looked like she was made of spun glass – near to shattering at a breath. “General,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let’s forget about past mistakes. Welcome to the front lines. I’ll catch you up, and you can give me an overview of your supplies so we can distribute them to the citizens appropriately.”

The vein in the general’s head pulsed so hard that Robert thought he could hear it. But the general glanced out to the crowd, where people were looking on with concerned and curious expressions – and Robert knew that, at the very least, Annette had called Kaiser into enough question that they no longer thought he was their savior. They were still happy and relieved to see him, but rather than a golden idol, she had brought him down to copper. Still prettier than Robert, but not so valuable they were dazzled, nor quite as useful as his carbon steel.

The general took his hand, shook it. “We have some supplies to hand out,” he said. “I’ll ensure it gets to the right hands.”

“Please get me the list first,” Robert said, and called out to the crowd, “Are there any distributors here? Please come forward, and we will get this sorted out.”

Several people came forward, including, as Robert suspected, Miriam. He smiled. “Come with me, General. These are some of the distributors. I’m sure your servants have met them. They will help divvy up your supplies.”

The general started to walk towards him, but turned to Annette, and at first Robert’s heart leapt into his throat, worried he had misjudged the general’s restraint. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “Zacharius showed great promise as an engineer.”

God damn, what a fucking snake. First threatening to put him on trial, then trying to compliment him.

Annette seemed to shiver, looked the general in the eye and spat at his feet. “Keep his name out of your mouth.” She snarled.

“Come along,” Robert said before Kaiser could reply. “We’ve got lots of work to do.”

Chapter Text

Two weeks after Lena returned with the 86 who had followed her to a battlefield of flowers, the first aid package arrived from the Federacy of Giad. It was small, but Robert still saw the relief on the faces of the water and electrical utilities worker as they opened the packages and found valves, wire, and other small but critical parts.

“We’ll be able to restore a few of the public fountains with this,” one of them said. “Thank the goddess.”

“I think it’s the two-headed eagle you ought to be thanking,” Robert said calmly, glancing out of the door to where Lena and Annette were warily standing, not willing to come in but also not willing to not know whether they were any closer to a shower. He sighed. “Any chance we get hot water somewhere any time soon?”

“Not unless you want to use all our coal or oil,” the utilities worker said, but then glanced at his counterpart. “Unless you think we can get some power to one of the buildings?”

The electrical worker was rubbing his chin, covered in nicks like most people were after the restriction on razors had been lifted. Even he had a few. “The generators were protected,” he said, “it was mostly about begin able to get the line workers out there to start running wire again and having splicing materials. We might manage to get power to a few buildings by next week.”

“Where’s your bottleneck?” Robert asked, and half smiled as he glimpsed Annette and Lena silently celebrating. It was nice to see them smiling together for once.

~^~

They had done sweep after sweep, checked over and over, patrols had been safe in the area for at least a week. The 86 they had consulted all said it was a reasonable idea right now, before anyone else thought to go that deep into the side of the river that had been decimated by the invasion.

“Besides,” Shiden had said, “I’m curious to see where your majesty grew up.”

“And I’m chopped liver.” Robert drawled.

“Basically, yes,” Shiden said with a wink over Lena’s shoulder.

Lena finally sighed. “All right,” she said. “Maybe we can find supplies for ourselves.”

Supply restrictions had lifted dramatically as they got public fountains working, electricity to very limited areas, and took stock of what had been destroyed and what was just lacking in manpower to run. Frankly, they were better off than he had ever expected, but normalcy wouldn’t be back for years, possibly generations. Still, if they could find some sweets, alcohol, heck, even a change of clothes would be welcomed right now.

When they invited Annette, she shook her head. “I’m good,” she said, but turned to her work station and dug in a drawer until she produced a key. “If the place is still standing, one of you can root around and see if there’s anything there worth taking, though. I don’t think so, I was moving stuff here weeks before the invasion, but I might have forgotten something.” She shrugged.

Privately, Robert let out a breath. One of them needed to stay behind, just in case. Lena looked a little sad but nodded. “All right,” she said. “We’ll see you in bit.”

“Yeah,” Annette said, and though Robert held his breath, wondering if she would flashback to saying goodbye to Zach, she just turned back to her work station and went back to tinkering with a para-raid.

He left quickly, stepping into the bright sunlight with Lena, where SHiden waited for them. “Ready to go?” she asked.

Lena nodded.

Lena rode sitting primly on Shiden’s lap, the carapace to her juggernaut open as they carefully picked their way through the ruined streets where the worst of the fighting had taken place. She looked about as happy as a pig in a mudhole, and even found the audacity to shoot him a shit-eating grin as they smoothly passed by. He rolled his eyes. Robert was sitting in the passenger’s seat of a war truck they had taken just in case they found any other places to loot.

His place was first on the map – the Carthage mountain was about half-way to Victory park up the main road and then half a mile south. It was still in the zone where they expected a near-total loss, so he had never been very hopeful, but as they drew closer and there still weren’t any houses standing, Robert realized that they were on his street and he recognized nothing.

“Uh,” the driver cleared his throat. “Sir? Where….should I stop?”

The whole place was rubble. Concrete and wood littered the street. The truck they were in jostled up and down with every foot, crunching gravel and glass. It was so chaotic that it was almost hard to see where the road gave way to sidewalk and then to yard, but a lone, crinkled light pole down the block a little showed where it was.

Goddess, it was all gone. Just completely gone. He’d never realized how little concrete and wood actually made up a house – now that they were in heaps it seemed like nothing in comparison to the apartment buildings and multi-floor store fronts he was used to seeing. His house had been a mansion, too – 15 bedrooms and 17 bathrooms, a sitting room, dining, living, and mini-ball room. The grounds had been extensive and well kept in the back, and the front sat daintily along the road much like the rest of the houses.

And now it was nearly flat. He wasn’t even positive which house had been his. The effect was so profound that he couldn’t even find sorrow or fear or pain or nostalgia. He hadn’t been here to watch it fall, so none of it was recognizable enough to even recognize as gone.

He waved them on. “No where. Without digging tools we aren’t finding anything here. Let’s move on.”

No one said a word to him for at least ten minutes, for which he was grateful. It was bewildering how he couldn’t recognize the area. Nothing looked familiar, nothing looked like his. Not only was he an orphan, but he was homeless. If he was lucky, the land would retain its value… whatever that meant in a post-apocalyptic world. He probably had his address written down somewhere in his records – he’d have to dig it up and make sure the plot was marked as…

“You ok over there?” Shana’s voice finally came over the Para-raid, only directed at him. She wasn’t on their little tour, so Shiden must have told her.

“Nah,” he said softly, looking out the window. It had been fifteen minutes of driving slowly and they had made it to the tiny square that was about a five minute walk from Lena’s house. There were actually buildings standing here. Good, maybe Lena’s house had something left. The truck driver resolutely ignored him.

“Shiden let me know your house was levelled.”

“I don’t even recognize it.” He said. “I think that’s worse.”

“It is.” Shana said. “Work on accepting it so it doesn’t sneak up on you.”

She was right, he dimly noted. There was a note of grief in him, singing so far away that he could barely hear it – but if it was loud enough to hear so far away, it would be deafening up close, and they still couldn’t afford to slip up. After all, they had enemies beyond the machines working by their side now.

“Thanks.” He said.

“I’ll talk to you when you get back,” Shana said, and the para-raid connection closed.

As they turned on to Lena’s street, Robert let out a breath. Both houses were standing. They looked a little worse for wear – half of the upper floor of Annette’s house was blasted off and Lena’s roof had some holes in it.

“Damn, Lena,” Shiden whistled. “Nice place.”

“It’s…” Robert glanced over as Lena dropped to the ground from Shiden’s Juggernaut, wringing her hands. “I’m surprised it’s still standing.”

“Well, that’s what the Carthages get for being richer than you,” Robert joked. Shiden snorted. Lena acted like she hadn’t heard him. Or perhaps she hadn’t, staring at the place where he knew she’d said goodbye to her mother, still missing. Would they find her body here? The body of servants she knew?

He doubted it. Most of the rich families had a place to run, something to try.

She was heisting, teetering on the curb, her hands curled against her chest nearly in prayer. Shiden looked concerned, but he stepped up. If anyone understood the feeling of looking at their shattered home, it was him.

“Do you want me to go in first?” he asked, keeping his voice down so the people around them didn’t think less of Lena.

She glanced at him, swallowed. “What if my mother is in there?”

“Then come out and let you know so you can prepare yourself.”

Lena glanced at the door again, then back at him. His stomach hollowed. She would never trust him like that, he reminded himself. He had no chance. But damn it, there were days he wished he hadn’t been such a pig-headed asshole.

She nodded. “Take Shiden,” she said. “Just in case.”

Robert glanced at Shiden and jerked his head over to the door. “Let’s do a first sweep, make sure it’s safe before she goes in.”

“Sounds good.” Shiden said, climbing out of her juggernaut.

“You all stay out here and guard her,” Robert said to the truck driver and remaining 86. They nodded, seeming to collectively understand that Shiden and Robert weren’t going in to sweep for threats. They were going in to sweep for bodies.

Robert was going because she trusted him to know who was important.

Shiden was going because if they found someone she loved… she wanted Shiden to be the one to tell her.

They opened the door carefully, listening for crumbling walls or straining ceilings. Nothing.

They stepped in, closed the door behind them. The windows were impossibly dusty, but sunlight still streamed in diffuse, making their flashlights moot for now. Lena had mentioned a cellar and a small panic room for weather or assassination – they needed to sweep that first.

“Thanks for telling Shana for me,” Robert murmured as they prowled the dining room, then living room.

“Something similar happened to her,” Shiden muttered. “Figured she could get your head on straight.”

That tracked. Robert nodded, found a door and opened it carefully. “Stairs down,” he said, and Shiden followed him into the cellar.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they let their eyes adjust and turned on their flashlights, only to blink in shock. “Holy shit,” Shiden said softly.

“What the hell.” Robert muttered, and swept his flashlight to the right and left.

Canned goods, dry pasta, non-perishable meals,  stacks on stacks of jarred tomato sauce, green beans, pickled carrots… and then as he moved to the right, the food changed into what looked like first aid supplies, stacks of red boxes and beyond them plastic coverings with what looked like blankets beneath them.

It was months worth of food put aside and probably weeks worth of first aid, and most of it was probably still good.

Shiden was stalking around, looking for the door Lena had told them about. His heart sank. If they had this here, enough food for a small family for a month or two, aid and blankets, then surely someone had gone to the panic room, but when she found the door and swung it open, the tiny room was empty.

“Did Lena stockpile this?” Shiden asked.

“No,” Robert murmured. “She was using the pantry, my stock room, and her office for that. She hardly came down here.” He wandered further back, and found a wine rack completely full. Pulling a bottle from it, he glanced at the label and nearly dropped it.

“What?” Shiden asked, coming over to look at the bottle.

The label was standard size, but it was a photo of him and Lena, dancing at the Revolution day ball more than a year before. It was the orange dress, with her hair down and adorned in lilies, then one she had later told him symbolized rage and wrath.

It was also the dress that had suited her most, the one she had worn with the most pride.

Across the top was written Congratulations future Mr. and Mrs. Carthage!

“The engagement party,” Robert managed though his mouth was paper-dry. “Her mother knew I’d be proposing on Revolution day this year. She must have had these made up for the engagement party.”

“It’s a good picture of you,” Shiden offered after a moment of silence.

Robert put the wine back on the shelf, sighing. “Yeah. Too bad I was being…. Awful at that moment. I believe I told her that she should wear her hair up because her neck was unbearably sexy.”

“Wow, charmer,” Shiden drawled. “Not that you were wrong.”

“No, no, I was being creepy.” He sighed. “It was a power thing. She hated it and I just wanted to watch her squirm.”

“Look, as someone who purposefully kept eating out my girlfriend because I knew Lena would be calling and hear us…” Shiden grabbed a box, started loading the wine into it in a way that the labels weren’t visible. “You aren’t going to get a lot of flak from me.”

Robert stared at her for a moment. “Wait, what?” he said.

“Oh, you never heard about that?” Shiden asked, handing him a box.

“As if she’d tell me.” Robert scoffed.

Shiden shrugged. “I figured Shana might have. By the way, she likes whiskey, see if you can find any.”

“Are you and her…”

“Me and Shana?” Shiden asked, looking up at him with her face scrunched up. “Fuck that bitch. Know her like the back of my damn hand, but I hate her.” She stood up, moving to the next box of wine. “Goddamn stick in the mud, goody two shoes, by the book, practical little shit. S’why you two are perfect for each other.”

He decided not to ask any further. He also decided that looking for whiskey was an excellent idea.

They brought the wine out first, then brought Lena in, after assuring her there was no bodies that they could find. When she saw the stockpiled food, she gasped. “Did you move it like this?” she asked.

“No,” Shiden said. “Found it pretty much like that.”

There were tears on Lena’s cheeks as she moved to the pile of jars and cans, touching it gently, as if it were a precious pile of gems. “They listened,” she whispered. “They couldn’t get it to us before, but they listened.”

~^~

Chapter Text

They searched for a note, but found nothing other than a receipt. The aid kits had been bought by Margareta and delivered only 4 weeks before Revolution day that year. Lena was still clinging to the note, walking aimlessly and silently around the house, as the others got to work ferrying the goods upstairs and into the truck.

When they were finished, Shiden and Robert lurked outside what looked like the dining room door. The dining room windows had been shattered, but otherwise it looked like everything was perfectly in order – it had probably been a sonic blast from the house behind Lena’s, which was in much worse repair.

Lena was staring at the head of the table as he and Shiden watched, her back to them. They glanced at each other, both pursing their lips. Robert gestured in what he hoped meant go on. Shiden frowned, shook her head, pointed back at him, as if to say nope, this one’s you.

Robert shook his head. There was no way he could offer comfort to Lena right now. He would never be the one offering comfort because she couldn’t trust him, and how could anyone take comfort from someone they didn’t even trust?

Shiden made a shooing motion and Robert sighed. Well, he could probably trust Shiden’s judgement on Lena’s mood over his own on any given day, so he ought to give it a shot. He slipped into the room, closed the door as quietly as he could, briefly paused and wondered if that was the right move – given Lena would probably rather have her fingernails pulled than be in a room alone with him…

But then again, she had been in a room alone with him. Several times. Not recently, but they’d also been rather busy lately.

He took a breath. Before he’d decided to be a better man, he’d never had these doubts. They were frankly exhausting. It was like the knowledge of sin from the holy book written ages ago – the more he understood about how to be a good man, about how he had been a *bad* man, the more doubts and pain weighted on his soul. Was that the true price of growth? Of goodness? Was that how Lena experienced it? How everyone experienced it?

He cleared this throat. “Hey…” he said, and trailed off, unsure of what to say, unsure of what was worth. His home was gone, but hers was here and yet devoid of all the things that made it home. He perhaps only had the stump of a tree, but she had all the graceful boughs and branches yet no leaves.

The pads of her fingers pressed against the table at the head spot. She didn’t move, only blinked once, still staring at the spot, the receipt clutched tight to her stomach. Finally, she swallowed. “I…” she sighed. “Are they done packing?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But it’s safe. You have time, if you want it.”

“I shouldn’t,” she murmured. “We don’t know…”

“It’s fine,” Robert interrupted her. “You should take the time. We still have to look over Annette’s place.”

“But I…”

“You’re allowed to mourn it,” Robert sputtered out. “Even if it was terrible. Even if it was morally awful. It was still your home, they were still your family.”

Lena blinked again, glanced at him wide-eyed, as if she didn’t quite recognize him. “They believed me, Robert,” she whispered. “They believed me, but they didn’t come with me. I could have kept them alive.”

“They were hedging their bets,” Robert said gently. “Just like the generals who stocked their safe-rooms on our side of the bridge. They didn’t quite believe you, but they thought it was enough of a risk that they could invest a bit of time and money into the just-in-case.”

“Why didn’t they help, then? They could have…” Lena shook her head, holding back tears with a gulp. “Even a little help. Even a little belief…”

“Because supporting you wasn’t safe,” Robert said softly. “It would have eroded their power, required that they think. That they accept the guilt and blame for what they did, or even that they pay money to help others out of the holes they were put in and while you and I never had to worry about money… most people were breaking even. After that…. You’re relying on empathy and Lena…. most people don’t have that. They just don’t. They care about themselves and their families and their immediate surroundings.”

Lena was looking down at the table again, using her finger to wipe away glass and dust to see the polished wood beneath, her expression weary. “Blame doesn’t get anyone anywhere,” she said. “They didn’t need blame, they just needed to fix it.” She paused, frowned. “But I guess that would have required they accept that what they did was wrong.”

“And a lot of people equate that with blame,” Robert said. “You know how prideful our parent’s generation was. There was no way. You did the right thing, moving in the shadows, getting allies and creating people that could help regardless of whether they believed the 86 are human. It’s the reason any of the city survived.”

“And they all still spit on the 86,” Lena shook her head. “I don’t think I changed anything.”

“Maybe not changed,” Robert said, “but you saved them. If you keep at it, you might be able to get the 86 back inside the walls.”

“No,” Lena said, “I don’t think I could. You’ve seen how they talk to me. I wasn’t there when they came out…”

“They listened to you about this,” Robert said.

“But they didn’t act.” Lena snapped. “They hedged.” She straightened, glanced up at the door. “They need someone that will make them act. I’m not that person.”

“What…. Are you saying?” Robert asked, suddenly realizing that there was something about this conversation that was not quite going the way he had thought it would, some outside influence he didn’t know about. Lena was talking as if she had options, as if there was anything to do but keep trying to play with the generals.

Lena fished into one of her pockets, withdrew an envelope that was red, stamped with a black two headed eagle. He went cold. That was the Federacy’s coat of arms. What had they sent her, and when?

“This came with the aid package,” Lena said softly. “They’re taking the 86, and invited me to become a foreign officer in the their military.”

He went cold. Where to start? They had barely survived the offensive thanks to the 86, and now those fighters were leaving? And taking Lena with them? Worse, had he pushed her to this by explaining how they ended up here? He had hoped that it would just explain how she could push change further, improve the situation more. But if her goal was to help the 86 and the Federacy was going to take them in… then she had succeeded past any imagining. Of course she should go. His face must have gone white, because Lena tilted her head a little. “What?”

“I’m just surprised,” Robert said. “No one’s said anything about it.”

“I haven’t told the fighters yet,” Lena said, and slid the envelope back in her pocket. “They wanted a head count and they have to arrange the transportation.” She looked down for a moment, swallowed. “I wondered if I was abandoning the fight. I thought that may it was the coward’s way out to leave, not try to keep changing the republic for the better. You’re right, this would be the perfect time…” she trailed off.

“But they haven’t actually changed,” Robert picked up after a moment. He shook his head. “You should go.”

She blinked. “But then you’d be alone… Annette is coming as a technical officer. I could probably ask them to invite you as well but I wasn’t sure you’d want to leave.”

“Someone needs to stay behind,” Robert said. “And maybe I can make them act. I can’t promise to be a perfect leader, but at the least, I might be able to do better.”

“I think you’d do well,” Lena said with more sincerity than he’d ever expected to hear. “Your leadership got us through those first few hours of fighting.”

Leadership, huh? Well, if that was what she called making enemies of every Alba fighter out there to make them angry enough to fight with everything they had. “Thanks,” he said. “You should try to get some mementoes to take with you while we’re here. No telling if we’ll be able to get back here before you leave.”

Lena blinked. “You’re right. Thank you. Slowly, she drifted towards the door, opening it and heading towards the stairs. Robert stood staring at the door for a moment, chest hollow with loss before it had actually happened. What were they going to do without the 86? Without Lena and Annette? Would the generals even fight to keep her here as they desperately needed to do? Should he talk to them, try to convince them to at least try?

He smiled tightly to himself. No. He was right. They hadn’t changed. They still thought they didn’t need her, didn’t need the 86. At this point, the only way to teach them was to lose it all.

Chapter Text

Lena announced that she was accepting the offer to become a foreign officer, and that the 86 squadrons would be leaving the Republic with her.

He waited, breath held, to see whether they would argue, block, or cheer.

They smiled, congratulated her, and wished them luck. Said that they would take it from here. Robert couldn’t help but grind his teeth. They were making a mistake, letting her go. But he saw the barely concealed relief and delight on General Kaiser’s face – this was exactly what he had wanted – to take power back and sit back at the top. He and Lena had been in the way of that, along with Annette, and now two of those thorns in his side, those symbols of the resilience of the citizenry, were leaving. And they were committing the kindest form of genocide on their way out, taking the 86 with them instead of forcing San Magnolia to reckon with the fact that the ones they had called pigs for the last 20 or so years were the ones that had saved their lives, had been saving their lives all along.

It was exactly what the brass wanted: a return to the status quo. The 86 would be out of the way. The citizens, desperate for a return to their lives, would happily accept whatever story the higher ups decided to tell.

That afternoon, while working with Shana on supplies for the trek to the Federacy, he received a note from a runner.

Carthage – come to my office when you are done with supply determinations.

“You could tell him to pound sand,” Shana said quietly. She must have seen the look on his face, the way he’d turned a little green around the edges thinking of what Kaiser must want.

“I could,” Robert said, flopping back into his chair from where he’d stood rooted in clarity for a moment. There was no way this ended well for him, who had clearly demonstrated that he believed the 86 were human.

“That, or denounce us,” Shana said. “Start talking about how awful we are.”

“Fuck that,” he sighed. She was right. If he fell back in line quickly and took back up the refrain about the traitorous 86, it would probably work. He could claim insanity, pussy fever from wanting Lena, fear of the legion’s advance, or even all three, and the generals would at the very least not target him.

“Disappear from the public eye?” she suggested with a smirk.

“Have you seen me?” He replied with a returning grin. “How could I deny the public all of…” he gestured to his body, “This?”

Shana gave a delicate snicker. On anyone else it would have sounded unbearably cruel, but having spent hours and hours talking on the para-RAID with this woman to bolster the time Lena had to plan, he knew it was just her way of laughing without guffawing. She took the note, scrutinized it for a moment – he knew she was slow to read – then handed it back, but kept her eyes on the floor, murmuring. “You could tell him you’re coming with us.”

He froze. Of all the people to invite him along, Shana was one of the last he had expected. Lena had hesitantly offered. Annette had told him in no uncertain terms that he should come, because otherwise he stood a good chance of being assassinated. But none of the 86 had said anything in the 24 hours since Lena had announced her decision to the troops.

“…maybe I’ll talk to him about that,” he said. “I still don’t know what he wants. Maybe he’ll promote me.” He chuckled.

 “General Carthage has a certain ring to it,” Shana said with a grin. “Wasn’t that what you wanted, way back when?”

“In some other life, maybe,” Robert cracked a smile. “Anyway, I’ll go see what he wants.”

“Good luck,” Shana said. “Tell me what you end up doing.”

“Sure,” he said, then remembered the other thing that he’d been told in no uncertain terms he should do. “Tell you what, I’ll get you dinner and a drink while I’m at it. My treat – we found some good stuff at Lena and Annette’s old houses.”

“Sure, come find me when you’re done with your meeting.” Shana didn’t even look up from her paper, just raised a hand in an “ok” sign.

He was most of the way to the general’s office before he realized that #1, he had asked her out on a date, and #2, she had accepted.

Heh. He thought to himself wryly. Cheating on Lena? You dog, you.

Chapter Text

“General Kaiser, Sir?”

“Ah, Robert. Please have a seat, son.”

I’m not your son. Robert thought to himself, but did not say it. It was a power move. If he responded, he acknowledged it. Only a year and some ago, I would have been flattered, wouldn’t I?

He would have. He was sure of it. Even six months ago he would not have clocked the subtle attempt at taking power in the conversation. He took a breath. “You wanted to speak to me about something?”

“Yes,” Kaiser finally turned his chair to look at Robert, smiling pleasantly. “I wanted to speak to you about your engagement to Major Mileze.”

Oh shit. They hadn’t actually talked about that, since they both knew it was off since the invasion. But in all the chaos, it had slipped his mind that to everyone else, they had been wildly into each other and there was little reason to think that they were not still intending to be married.

“I see. What about it?” He asked. No use blurting that the whole thing had been a ruse.

Kaiser sighed. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, son, but I also hate seeing a man in a trap. But first off, I think she only agreed to be courted in order to gain power.” Robert nearly snorted a laugh. No shit? “And second,” Kaiser was looking at him closely now, so he clenched his abs, trying to look like he was at least a little mad about this revelation. “I’m not sure she’s interested in being faithful to you, Robert.”

Wait. That was his angle? Robert looked up, frowning, and Kaiser raised his hands. “Now, I know, faithfulness isn’t necessarily what nobility asks of their wives. But most high ladies are demure about their dalliances, they are easily explained away as planning for the garden or consulting on a dress. But more important, they are choosy about who they dally with.”

“I’m not sure I follow, sir,” Robert said. What in the world was this leading to? What was the angle here? Was he just trying to make sure that Robert was staying in San Magnolia? That would be odd.

Kaiser sighed, stood up. “You know I knew your father, yes?”

“Sure, you were university friends,” Robert said, staying in his seat.

“Right. So I consider it my duty, as his friend, to ensure that his son is not being led astray in a way that would besmirch the Carthage name.”

Ah, so they were trying to get him to give up Lena, maybe even distance himself. If he was staying here, then that was a reasonable thing to do, and Lena probably wouldn’t have a problem with it.

“No, sir, it’s not your concern I don’t understand. Thank you very much. It’s just… what do you mean about choosy? Have you seen Lena… dallying?” He dropped his voice to a rumble, ensuring that he sounded as if he were concerned but also edging on angry.

Kaiser sighed. “Not directly.” He said. “But there have certainly been rumors. She’s very close to her unit, isn’t she?”

“They’ve served her for almost 2 years now.” Robert said. What he declined to say was that 2 years was longer than any handler had served a single unit in nearly the entire war. “They saved our lives.”

“They’re pigs,” Kaiser retorted. “It’s embarrassing for you. Have you seen the way that mannish she-pig, the leader of that squad, looks at her?” he shook his head. “There’s something between them. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she’s a card rubber.” He sneered. “If it was an alban woman, like with the scientist and the tailor – well, it would be disheartening that they would besmirch themselves like that but at least it wouldn’t be filthy.”

It took him a moment to decode all the dogwhistles and figure out what Kaiser was saying. Hoo boy. He really had it twisted, didn’t he? Mannish she-pig had to be Shiden, because Kaiser was right, everyone but Lena seemed to know that Shiden had it bad for her. Scientist and the Tailor was Annette and Miriam. It was a bit of a surprise he knew about that one, but maybe he’d stumbled into the lab at the wrong time… stumbled – ha, more like the door gave way while he was listening. They all said that women with women was gross, but were perfectly eager to listen to them at keyholes.

Well, they had been intending to break off the engagement formally at some point anyway. He didn’t have to defend anyone here, Lena and Shiden were to leave for the Federacy the next day. “General, sir,” he said. “Thank you for your concern. I think I should let you know that Lena and I mutually decided to end our engagement when she received the invitation to the Federacy.”

“I see,” Kaiser said, and turned to him. “You wanted to stay. She wanted to abandon us.”

“Yes sir. We could not see eye to eye, and determined there was no way forward for our relationship.” He looked down, trying to seem as if he were downcast about this.

“I see. Then that makes our request a little more palatable, I hope.”

Oh no. “Request?”

Kaiser sighed, sat before Robert again, folded his hands. “Son. Vladilena Mileze has put us in a difficult position. Leaving San Magnolia means she takes information on national security with her. We’ve already suffered a great deal at the hands of the Federacy, poking around in our archives, taking our culture and lineage as a reason to deny us food and aid. She would only make it worse.”

Oh shit. “So, the request?

“I’m getting there, son.” Kaiser leaned forward. “We hate to do this. We really do. But when we spoke directly to Lena, the mannish she-pig wouldn’t allow us to get close. She’s constantly surrounded by those 86 and other loyalists, so there’s no way we could do this quietly as we wish. She’s leaving soon, the people know that. So if she left in a different way…”

Fuck.

“There would be no uproar. The Federacy would simply think she was killed in action along the way, along with some of her processers. Our people would think she was safe in the federacy as a diplomatic military leader. And San Magnolia’s national security information would be safe.” Kaiser paused to see if the light had gone on. Robert tried to keep his hands from shaking.

“Sir, are you asking me to…” he paused.

Kaiser slid an envelope across the desk to him. “There’s a vial inside. You just have to put it in her food, maybe as she’s leaving. Hand her a final cup of coffee. She’ll only need a sip or two, and it’ll be over. You will have redeemed your family name from her stain.”

Robert stared at the envelope for a moment, numb. It wasn’t just her they were asking him to cleanse. It was him. He’d fraternized too much, gotten too close to the 86, and now they needed him to make a dramatic turn around in order to prove that he was still with them, still a good Alba, still clean.

“I…” he needed to hedge. He needed to demure. He needed to take the poison, pretend that he was going to do it, and then leave with Lena instead, or just bury it and say that he’d totally done it but Lena didn’t like Coffee so he’d failed. He needed to…

His stomach did a flip flop and he nearly retched onto the general’s desk then and there, as if all of his should and needed to and all the games distilled out of his blood and into his stomach at once.

 We didn’t have to be here! We never had to be here, just a handful of us knowing that the legion are going to flood the country in nine months. But some people just wanted to sweep an entire war under the rug, put it in a box and forget about it so they could keep making money, like sniveling cowards and now it’s been dumped in our laps!

Annette had said it, ages – eons ago. Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t un-see it. And it was getting harder and harder to keep calm and play the game, while he watched them make the same mistakes, over and over, while he was asked to participate in making the world worse, in making a few people money and power instead of giving everyone at least a modicum of peace and rest.

Through the roiling, horrific realization was the quiet certainty that if he didn’t play along there would be consequences. If he didn’t at least pretend to try, then he was…

He could reach out, take the vial, thank the general for the opportunity and promise to try, and then throw it out. Then he could claim that he tried, but failed the assassination attempt. Lena would be out, he would apologize profusely, and continue to try to change things from the inside as a disgraced former noble.

Goddess. Who was he kidding? That wasn’t going to happen. They had put him in this position as a test. If he succeeded, he would have power enough to make some changes. If he failed, he would be deposed, excommunicated, considered a failure. They would level the same accusations at him that they did at Lena, and presto, no power.

He could take it and just leave with the 86. Ask the Federacy to take him in as well, even if he had to pilot one of their juggernauts or whatever they called them to do it. If he told Lena what they were plotting she might even welcome him along.

But if she knew that they had tried to kill her… would she ever come back? Would she show mercy on San Magnolia if the chance came? Would she help them? He licked his lips, swallowed.

None of it sat well with him. He hated all of those options. This was all ridiculous, unfair. Like sniveling cowards, and now it’s been dumped in our laps!

He took a breath, glanced up at Kaiser, who was still extending the envelop with an unwavering hand. Suddenly, his mind was clear, with one question.

What would Lena do?

Suddenly, it was easy.

“Vladilena Mileze saved all of our lives.” He said. Facts, undisputed. “Vladilena Mileze saved part of this city, and more of her citizens than should have been possible. She did it without support from you, with half of the military abandoning her wholesale to die or hide in silk-lined holes.”

“She is-“

He raised his voice. “Vladilena Mileze rallied the 86 to the aide of a country that abandoned and abused them. She brought them within the walls to protect living, breathing people. Those 86 saved all our lives, and you are still calling them pigs. That card rubber’s name is Shiden Iida, and she is a thousand times the leader you are, could ever hope to be.”

“Carthage, you’re on thin ice here-“

Robert shot to his feet. “Shut up and listen here, you fucking coward. Those 86 saw the Legion coming at San Magnolia and fucking chased them. What did you do? Tell me again, where were you!?”

“I’m not saying-”

He leaned forward, slammed his hands on the table next to where Kaiser still held the envelope. “Where were you!? Where were you when Lena was standing in a firestorm, defending the city, defending you? And you want me to assassinate her?! And you think you can ask me because you think we broke up?!” He dragged on a breath. “I’ll grant you, I was a real piece of shit that would have taken you up on this a year and a half ago. But that was before I saw all of my higher ups commit suicide or burrow like a fucking field mouse rather than stand and fight for their country.”

“Carthage!”

“SHUT UP!” Robert reared back. There was one thing he could do that Lena could not. One way a man’s words could win over another mans in a way a woman’s could not. The punch landed with a satisfying squelch, and Kaiser’s head spun to the left, spittle and a bit of blood spraying onto the white-marble floor.

He panted for a moment, then stood up again. For once, Kaiser was silent, sullenly looking up at him through his hand and a rapidly swelling cheek.

“If you want to go, feel free to find me. I’ll beat you until all you can remember is that you were the one who hid.” Robert snarled. “If you aren’t too much of a coward to not send a fucking proxy, that is.” He shrugged out of his uniform, tossed it on the desk. “And I’m retiring. If this is how San Magnolia’s military is gonna go, I’m not going to have any part in it. I don’t take orders from coddled little field mice.”

Kaiser was silent as he turned and marched out.

~^~

It wasn’t his best look, pacing through the hanger, nothing but a rumpled white undershirt and his uniform pants on, trying to bring his heart rate down so he could think about what he needed to do next.

He’d punched the goddamn general and retired. What an idiot.

Worse, he’d poked at the general pride, then punched him, then retired. Fuck. He was so fucked.

He hadn’t intended to. He’d intended to do what Lena did, and tell the general a bunch of facts, let the general pretend he didn’t hear them, then just leave and never actually refuse to do the job.

But once he’d started, he’d just kept getting more and more angry and then suddenly he’d been punching the general and-

A tiny hand grabbed his waist band, dragged him sideways into a juugernaut bay without much power but a lot of persistence. He raised his hands, looked down, found Shana with two fingers hooked in his waistband. “So,” she said, businesslike, “that didn’t go well?”

“You could say that.”

“You’re scaring everyone in the hanger, you know,” she said, pulling him past her juggernaut in the hanger, into the little maintenance room that was behind it. “What the hell happened?”

Suddenly, it was like all the nervous, furious energy he’d been running on pooled in his feet and sank into the floor at once. He sighed, shoulders falling back and letting Shana lead him by the hips. “I punched the general.” He mumbled.

“That seems like a bad idea,” Shana said simply. She had not yet taken her fingers out of his waistband.

“I also retired.”

“That explains why you are half-undressed, yes.” Shana said. “Gives me less to do though, so I’m not mad.”

“Yeah –," he started, "wait, what?”

She blinked at him. “What, did you mean dinner and a drink?”

“Um. Yes.”

She tilted her head, lips pulling to the side in a bit of disbelief, but then a smirk. Then she laughed, Robert still frozen, leaning back against a table. “You punch a general, walk in here half undressed, tell me you’ve retired and you’re shocked I’m not interested in dinner right now?”

“Also yes,” Robert said, but the nervous energy which had pooled in his feet was now a different energy radiating from her fingers in his waist band, a delicious frission and desire. “But I admit I’m warming up to the idea.”

“That’s what I thought,” Shana said matter-of-factly, and nodded to the door. “Now shut that, and let’s desecrate every surface in this room, yeah?”

He had definitely said some variation of that to Lena a long time ago. And here was a woman, who he’d known for a year by nothing more than her sardonic voice and biting remarks, then as a fierce fighter, saying it to him and suddenly his desires narrowed to that room, that woman, that moment.

Fuck the general and the consequences. And fuck him from a year ago while he was at it – having someone who wanted the same things he did was so much better.

“Fuck yeah.”

He slammed the door.

Chapter Text

It was wildly uncomfortable, resting on the cold, oil-stained concrete floor, his arm a pillow for her head, his head resting on a bucket he’d thrown a cloth over. Especially considering that post-coitus he was accustomed to a shower, sheets of the highest threadcount, and a hasty retreat from whatever girl he was with.

Shana was not curled into him, not looking lovingly into his arms with an expression somewhere between pleading and feigned adoration, hoping that he would love her and make her a woman of the Carthage family. In fact, she was quite focused on picking out a knot in her hair which had developed sometime after she’d ripped her hair tie out a few hours before, letting her inky hair fall in curtains around her as she-

“You should probably let the Major know that you’re coming with us,” Shana said without looking at him.  “She’ll need to introduce you to people.”

“Yeah,” he said, and it didn’t even feel like he was the one saying it. He’d planned on staying, hadn’t given much thought to what it meant to retire, but now that Shana said it, he knew she was right. Hanging on to a name that didn’t mean anything anymore with his parent’s dead, the mansion utterly levelled, and his reputation in shambles. He didn’t really have a choice at this point but to start over.

“You are coming, right?” Now Shana looked at him, piercing dark eyes scrutinizing, stripping him clean again and scouring the inside of his ribcage. He had to look away. For some reason her gaze was too intense right then, like she was giving a test he could never hope to pass. “Hey,” she said, and a small hand turned his face back to her concerned face. “They won’t hold back if you stay. You know what happens to compassionate Alba.”

“Human meat shields.” Robert croaked out. He knew. He’d told himself those Alba out at the front, the maintenance men, the scouts, the helicopter pilots – they’d all chosen that job because they felt sorry for the 86, wanted to help how they could. But the reality was that they were put in the most dangerous jobs so they would die, so other Alba would know exactly what it meant to want to help. The systems which had protected Lena due to her wealth didn’t exist any more. San Magnolia was now purely a military state – currency would exist again, but it wouldn’t mean much. Might was the only thing that would make right. Might and influence. Without Lena and Annette, his influence against Kaiser dropped like a stone – and Kaiser… he took a breath. “Yeah. I don’t really have a choice, huh?”

“Not anymore,” Shana said, and dropped her hand. “I’m glad, though. It would have sucked leaving you here with the trash.”

“San Magnolia appreciates your commitment to picking up litter,” Robert said with a smirk quoting the community involvement line from Saturday morning cartoons. Shana looked at him blankly, and he abruptly realized that she had probably never seen those community announcements, nor had any reason to know about them. “Never mind,” he said, and levered himself up, shaking out the arm she’d been laying on. “Well, if I’m coming, I’d better go get my shit together and tell Lena.”

She sat up with him, leaned over, bit his shoulder gently once, just a kiss of pressure, not even enough to leave teeth marks, and then wordlessly turned around and started to pull on her clothes.

He held back a chuckle, pulling on his pants and then the shirt after a brief search. They’d both left their socks on against the cold of the hanger floor. After a brief tousle to get his hair back into what could arguably be normal order for a war zone, Robert pulled open the door and walked out with a flippant salute, to which Shana simply twitched a wave.

Should he even tell anyone?  

He walked back to his room/office, hands in his pockets to avoid sniffing them like there was perfume on his fingers. Once things had stabilized some, he’d moved into the office he kept before the invasion, slowly adding a cot, blankets, and pillows as he could find them and the time to add them.

Was there anything that he wanted to take with him other than the clothes on his back? He had brought a few things from home at the beginning, before the invasion, but he hadn’t prepared as well as he would have had he known they would survive the first thirty six hours. Most of those things were depleted or gone now. Soap, cologne, packets of chocolate and good liquor – damn, the house being levelled meant all the real whiskey left in San Magnolia was gone too. Maybe someone would be able to unearth it some day.

Maybe the Federacy had some.

God that sounded strange. But now that he’d said the words to Shana, he knew it was true. He wouldn’t last two months here in San Magnolia without Lena and the other 86 here, especially after punching the general and sleeping with Shana. People might not know about the second one, but the first was enough to put a sufficiently sized target on his back.

He moved around the room contemplating if there were any notes, books, or other papers that he wanted to take with him. He sat down, stared a blank sheet of paper for a while, finally decided on something to write.

I, Robert Carthage, will be travelling to the Federacy to support Major Mileze in her efforts to stop the legion with the assistance of the 86^th squadron. I leave my post to whoever is found most appropriate.

Best of luck.

Yeah, that was about as neutral as he was going to get.

He stared at it a while longer just to make sure. Stood up. Picked up his coat and outerwear. He’d best go to tell Lena about the change in plans and hope she didn’t look too spooked. Maybe he should tell her he wasn’t interested in her any more anyway.

She’d probably be having dinner, finishing up on preparations, if he could find Shiden then he could find her. If he couldn’t find Shiden immediately, he would find Shana, and she would know where Shiden was.

Amazing what could happen in a few months. There was nothing here of value for him to take. He glanced over the office one last time just to make sure. No reason to suspect he would come back. Then he shrugged on his coat.

As he was patting his pockets to make sure there weren’t any keys that would be needed in them, someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” he said, and turned to see who it was.

One, two, three, four, five, six men filed into his office, standing at parade rest in a line in front of his door, faces darkened. A thrill of terror went up his spine, but Robert did not move and say anything, watching as they settled into position and stared at him until the last man came in.

Hermes. Arnault. Bettencourt. Cargill. DuPont. Montclair.

Well, this was going to hurt.

“Gentlemen,” he said by way of greeting. “Can I help you with something?”

Montclair grinned. More like leered.

“You finally crossed the line, Carthage.” He said. “Don’t worry. We’ll tell that pig-loving bitch finace’ of yours that you just couldn’t come out to see her off.”

Oh, that wasn’t good.

“Sorry, which part crossed the line?” Robert asked. “I can’t keep track of your lines these days, you see.”

Montclair sneered, shook his head. “Fuck off,” he said. “Boys, let’s take out the trash.”

Robert dove for his desk as they rushed forward to grab him. He made it up onto the desk, but instead of managing to jump over them and for the door, one of them – he wasn’t sure who – grabbed his ankle and tripped up his jump, bringing him crashing to the floor. His arm went under him – someone stomped on his shoulder and it cracked out of its socket immediately. Fuck – bad luck – but that would-

Another stomp, this on one his throat, immediately drove the thought that they were just there to rough him up from his mind, but by the time he finally had the thought that maybe, just maybe, they were here to beat him to death, he realized he was wrong about that, too, because two knives slid into his chest from two different sides and another kick landed directly on his temple, making him too addled to do anything but quietly, fully realize that they were not here to beat him to death, either. They just wanted to straight up murder him. They weren’t even making it particularly painful either, which he supposed was a blessing.

Goddamnit, he thought, and just when I might have gotten it figured out.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t here.

He hadn’t come yet.

Shana frowned, trying not to clutch her knapsack of belongings, wishing she could be sitting in her juggernaut right now, but San Magnolia had said that if they were abandoning their post then they would not be taking their weapons with them. Lena said they had better rigs anyway. But right about then, it would have been nice to not be having this crisis out in the open where everyone could see her.

It was five minutes before they were meant to start to leave. They were gathered in front of the command building, where Lena and Annette had set up the post during the invasion. They would walk to the north of the city, until they reached a train station where refugees from the cities that hadn’t been so lucky as to have a rescue were trailing in. There they would board a train, travel the Gran Mur, get off the train, and …. Hopefully…. Supposedly… there would be an army from the Federacy waiting for them.

She wasn’t sure how optimistic she was about it all, but then again, the Federacy had been the ones to save them in the fight with the rail gun. They did actually have better rigs, ones that could do incredible things like the pilot that Shiden was quietly suspicious was an 86 (but as far as Shana knew, she hadn’t actually brought that up with Lena yet…. They all knew where Lena’s mind would go, and there was no reason to get her hopes up when it could easily just be a talent from the Federacy.

Still, Shiden was right. There was just something about the way that pilot had moved. All of them saw it.

Shana surreptitiously tried to check a clock again. Two minutes before they were to be sent off.

She turned and tried to pace, without any indication of her nerves, towards Shiden, Lena, and Annette, who all looked a bit grim as they moved close to each other.

“You put out what we discussed?” Lena asked.

Annette nodded. “All in one box.”

“If they miss it, they’re missing it on purpose,” Shiden said, glancing sidelong at Shana. “And they understand not to move in ‘till we are past the wall, yeah?”

Lena nodded sharply. “I was very clear that I would not be able to defect if they moved in early.”

Annette nodded along. “And my computer keys, passwords, and harddrives, are all in there. Between that and…” she paused as General Kaiser stepped out of the building, two coffees in his hands.

Shana’s breath caught in her throat. If he’d gone back on his word, Robert would have been next to General Kaiser, back to the obedient, dumb puppy he’d been just before she met him on the coms. But there was no one with him. Where is he?

Kaiser approached Lena, a smile spreading on his face. “Vladilena Mileze. Your father would be so proud of you – going out into the world to represent San Magnolia, leading a squadron.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lena said, but her eyes were more than a little dull.

“I’ve brought you a coffee for the road,” Kaiser said, and thrust one of the cups in his hands toward her.  Lena jumped slightly at the gesture. “Real coffee, mind you! From my stash. As a treat for good luck.” He grinned toothily.

Coffee? From the man who had been trying to cut Lena’s power out from under her ever since emerging from his hidey-hole? Yeah right, Shana dropped her bag down to her side, taking a step towards Lena to warn her that something wasn’t right.

At the same moment, Shiden stepped forward too, but Annette beat them both to it. “Goodness, how thoughtful!” she chirruped, and took the cup from Kaiser’s hands. “Lena, let me go and get you some sugar for this – you’ve never had real coffee, it’s way more bitter than our artificial stuff.” The scientist cast a glance at all three of them in turn, eyes narrowed in warning to not make a scene. Shana stepped back – Shiden relaxed.

“Thank you, Annette,” Lena said with a serene smile.

Kaiser’s face had grown remarkably pinched, and then turned near to purple when Annette stumbled, pitched forward, and dropped the cup to slosh over the cement of the road. “Oh no!” She cried, with what Shana thought was a bit too much sorrow. “General Kaiser, sir, I’m so sorry! There was a stone and I haven’t slept in days what with getting ready to leave and…”

The general held up his hand. “It’s fine, Penrose. You’ve been working very hard. Lena, please take mine. I only wished to toast your good health.”

“It is bad luck to toast alone,” Lena said, “so I will wait until we are underway to drink, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Kaiser said, rubbing his hands together, “Well, we’re terribly proud of you. It looks like the time is upon us.”

“By the way,” Lena said, glancing up at Kaiser through his lashes. “Have you seen my ex-fiance?” Shana’s stomach did a flip-flop. Lena did not like Carthage. They all knew it. At the same time, they had been working together for at least a year. So she must have felt something was off about him not being there as well. “We did not part on bad terms, so I thought he would be here to see us off?”

“Carthage?” the general said, and shrugged. “Haven’t seen him this morning. He’s probably holed up in his office. You know his work ethic.”

“Of course. Though I did have a gift for him. Could I send someone in to leave it on his desk?”

Shana was watching his face closely, or she might have missed the brief, ever-so-subtle, flick of the general’s eyes behind him, as if he were contemplating whether it was safe for them to go in right then. The hand around her throat tightened.

“Certainly,” he said, but the word was hitched, as if he were forcing it out. “Though I’m happy to take it so you can get on your way.”

Lena glanced at her, just once, imperiously, as if commanding her to speak, and Shana spoke without thinking.

“I’ll go. Lena, you should get them going. You won’t be walking so fast I can’t catch up.” Shana said, and held out her hand. “I’ll give it to him.”

Lena glanced at her significantly, and in that moment, Shana knew that she had exactly the same suspicion that she did. Out of her pocket, she pulled a golden ring, encrusted with diamonds and rubies. “This is the Carthage family ring. Given I will no longer be a Carthage, and he is the final son of the Carthage line, it would be a shame to take it with me. Now he can marry a proper Alban.” She placed it in Shana’s hand. It was heavy. Sharp. And suddenly it occurred to her that of everyone there, Lena had chosen to give the ring to her.

She had never been much of a dreamer about her wedding, a husband, a ring. But for a split second, she saw it on her hand, her hand in his, heard his breathing in her ear, and something in her fractured.

Kaiser chuckled, almost nervously. “Sure,” he said. “Of course. I’m sure he would have liked to marry you, but you know, you make choices in life and…” he trailed off. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with your unit, little lady? I can take that for you.”

The urge to tell him to fuck off was nearly too much, but Shana glanced at Annette, who nodded for her to get going. “Absolutely not,” Annette said assuredly. “It wouldn’t be right for a man to bring back his ring. That’s a woman’s job.”

“I… see.” Kaiser said.

 Shana handed her bag to Shiden, who followed her into the double doors of the building. “Where the fuck would they be keeping him?” She hissed. “I’ll help you look. He was just coming to say goodbye!”

“No,” Shana hissed back. “He was coming with us.”

Shiden stopped dead. Shana ran four steps, paused, and turned to look at her. Her Captain’s eyes were wide for a half a count, then snapped to a frown. “He told you that?”

“Yeah.” Shana said, and prayed her voice was dispassionate enough that Shiden didn’t think to question further.

“Fuck.” Shiden whispered. “After what we just saw back there with the coffee…” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to state the obvious conclusion.

Her own words echoed in her head from only the day before. They won’t hold back. You know what they do to compassionate Alba.

“Yeah,” Shana said. “I’ll check his office. You check his room.”

Shiden nodded and still holding Shana’s bag, took off for the rooms that had served as the barracks. Shana beelined for the stairs down, past Annette’s lab, to where the storage room for the food had been kept, where the coolness of the basement staved off spoilage.

The room was empty of people. Papers strewed the floor, a few crumpled. Shana frowned. There had been a rug here – she remembered that it had been a horrendous shade of brown that somehow managed to clash with the concrete of the floor. Robert had once said it was mostly there to muffle echoes, not to be pretty, but now it was missing entirely.

Shana moved over to the desk. It was… uncharacteristically messy for him. Especially if he had come here to get ready to leave, he would not have left the desk in disarray. Shana frowned as she pushed a few of the papers around with a single finger.

Odd. One of the papers had a boot print on it.

She picked it up. Just a bill of Lading from ages ago. She glanced at what was under it and caught her breath, snatching the paper to read.

I, Robert Carthage, will be travelling to the Federacy to support Major Mileze in her efforts to stop the legion with the assistance of the 86^th squadron. I leave my post to whoever is found most appropriate.

Best of luck.

He had resigned. He had resigned. He’d intended to come, but he wasn’t there.

He hadn’t come.

Therefore-

He wasn’t coming.

Hard breathing came from the hallway, forcing her to look up, and Shiden appeared in the door, both of their bags still in tow. “We gotta go. Some of the white pigs saw me poking at Robert’s room and came after me.”

The blood drained from her face, and Shana heard a slight roar in her ears. But years of losing comrad upon comrad kept her from losing anything more than a few seconds of hearing. She should have thought of this, stayed with him, brought him to Lena immediately, told Shiden the plan so they could keep an eye out on him… she should have known.

“Shana.” Shiden stepped forward, grabbed her wrist. “Shana!”

She shook herself, crumpled the note, stuffed it in the same pocket as the ring. “Let’s go.” She croaked. “I’ll take my bag back.”

Letting Shiden drag her along, they escaped out of the basement into the bright, sunny day and the column of 86 moving out to a new life, their Queen at the head.

~^~