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The sun made Rika squint as she stepped into the unit's parking lot, despite being low in the sky. [Thank god,] Gamun said, the door to airframes banging shut behind them. "You said it," Rika said. "I was starting to worry about what we would do if Shepard knew something Gunny didn't. I knew they were going to compare notes." "You mean aside from what the kit looks like?" "Yeah. My mind was starting to race about what to do when she started talking. Would that count as a leak?" "I think that's why she had him go first. So she would know if she needed to skip anything." "Makes sense," Rika said. "I was relieved when Gunny knew it all. Fucking heat. I forgot how much I hate hot weather. Why did I let you talk me out of taking my spacesuit off?" "Because Lost ordered you too. At least you still have your fur insulating you. It's even light colored too!" "It is not! It's tan, most a dark tan, damn near brown on my back! My face is black!" "It's lighter than any other rakkan I've seen." "Even Niedka's?" "Well, besides his, but everyone knows he's a freak. One of the reasons he is so happy whenever you want to go someplace with him is because you both stand out. He can be proud at everyone staring instead of constantly asking where he gets hit fur dyed." She wiped some sweat from her face. "I'm leaking water already. The light from this star, what's it called here? Sun?" Rika nodded. "Hah. I'm getting it. The sun's radiation is brutal here," Gamun said. "I never thought I'd say I enjoyed long sleeves." "There's this goop you smear on yourself that gets absorbed into your outer skin," Rika said. "It'll protect you from the radiation." "Heat too?" "Nope. Long sleeves and water. That's all you've got." Rika was starting to breath faster. "I'm star- starting to p-pant already. Sh-shit. Oh!" A red, battered, early model ranger was parked a few rows over. She made a beeline through the other carsfor it while Gamun followed. "What? What is it? Hey, that looks just like the one you humiliated Seleaik with!" It did. The only thing that was different were the license plates. Rika cupped her hands and tried to peer in the window, accidentally smudging it with her nose. It looked like there was mail stuffed into the middle of the bench seat. Sand was on the floor instead of reddish smears of dirt. Gamun shoved herself in next to her so she could peer in too. "Rika! You're name! It's etched on the glove box! This is it, the one you grew up with!"

Inside the ready room Echo was ready to leave. He stepped out the door, imagining the cold beer he was ready for. Maybe he'd go to Shaggy's. He'd been on Shepard's bad list enough in the past few days to be in the cramped apartment more than he had to, despite everyone's best efforts to leave work at work. He started across the parking lot and froze. Drone nearly ran him over. "Whoa! Echo, what-" Echo pointed to where Mallen and Flatface were poking around his truck, peering in the windows. Flatface got down on the ground and scooted under the front a little before rolling back out, saying something and nodding to Mallet. "Oh shit," Drone said. "You need to go talk with them." "Yeah. I do." He stared. This wasn't going to end well. "Before they walk away," Drone said, nudging him forward. "Before this escalates. At the very least so you can let the command know what's up before someone comes after you." "You're right." "Go. I'm right behind you." So he went. He walked up behind them as Mallet was poking around the side. She was opening the fueling door. "Hey Rika, what's in here?" "Didn't I teach you this?" FlatFaces said. "I don't remember anything." "Really? I know taught Lost. This is where you fuel it. The port is here, you just... Urf. It won't open. Well, if this were a normal truck you'd be able to open the cap and there would be a place to put the fueling nozzle. Since this one obviously isn't normal-" Echo cleared his throat. "May I help you, sergeants?" Mallet jumped. Flatface turned around. "Oh. I'm sorry, sir. Is this one yours?" "Yes. Might I ask why you're crawling around it?" Both NCOs shifted and glanced at each other. Flatface's ears folded to the sides. "Er," Mallet said. "It's a unique machine, sir," Flateface said. "None of the rest are like it." "Oh?" "The shape is very different, the cabin is very basic, and it smells like gasoline. I think you might have a leak sir." "Thank you for letting me know. What does this have to do with my gas cap?" "It won't open sir," Mallet said. "Why do you care?" Echo said. "and why are you even messing with it?" Flatface straightened up, her ears sweeping forward and onto Echo. "Where did you buy this truck, sir?" she said. "I bought it off a man in Washington state. Like I said, it's mine. Why?" "I know someone who is looking for a truck just like this. He'll buy it off of you. At a good price, too. I'll let him know." "I'm not interested in selling," he said. "I'm won't matter to him. Have a good evening, sir." She turned and walked away, speaking to Mallet in a low voice as a C-130 roared off the runway behind them. "Oh shit," Drone said. "Yeah," Echo said. "What the hell am I going to do?" "Sell it, apparently." "Just like that? They know!" "But they don't know you know. At least they didn't appear to. And they want it out of your hands apparently." "I gotta tell the command. Oh damn it." "Just play dumb. You don't know it can do anything special. You know nothing except you bought a beater and the radio is a little weird sometimes." "I can't play dumb though," Echo said. "I haven't bought gas in 30,000 miles. You can't open the gas cap. They know I at least know it's not a normal truck. Aw shit. I really don't want to have to go give Shepard more bad news." "So don't," Drone said. "Just don't say anything. If you keep it quiet maybe this guy will just show up, write you a fat check, and drive off. Maybe all you'll have to do is keep your mouth shut and not give him any crap when he comes." "Do you really think they'll just let it go that I own and know about a skinny's undercover car?" "It's not a skinny car," Drone said. "They'd have made a bigger stink. They wouldn't have walked away. This is a rakkan undercover." "It's not like that makes it any better! They'll be worried about their own shit now. And since I know... fuck. Damnit." "What's the worse that happens?" "I vanish?" Echo said. He leaned back against the driver's door and rubbed his forehead with his palms. "Or I suddenly come back not remembering a bunch stuff. I don't know." "Pah, come on, you know they won't do that," Drone said. "How the hell do you know? You don't." "Shepard knows far, far worse stuff than a weird truck, and all they did was threaten her and make her wear a tracking tag. The worst that happens is they'll put a blue band on you and tell you to shut up." Echo bit his lip. "It's worse?" he said. "How do you know?" "I overheard Gunny Owens in her office while I was digging through the obsolete SOPs in Top's office. There was something about heritage. And apparently Gunny Owens knows some shit too. It's bad, Echo, as in they'll have their kids taken if they leak. Something about Sergeant Yasoi." Echo looked at the ground, nodded, then looked at Drone. "You don't know shit about this either," Echo said, "Not about the gas cap, nothing." "Know shit about what?" "Exactly." Echo threw his backpack into the bed. "Want a ride?" "Sure." They got in. Echo started the engine and had just put it into gear when Drone looked down. "Hey Echo." "Yeah?" "Isn't Sergeant Yasoi's first name Rika? Isn't that what Mallet called her?" "That's what they call her off duty, why?" Drone pointed at the name etched into the paint. "How long has that been there?" Echo felt the blood drain from his face. "Since I bought it."

"Pearson!" Sgt. Thomas said as the marine. "You're in civvies! You're out of your suit!" Pearson smiled. "The english language never sounded so good! I passed Physics, sergeant. I want to go for a beer and a bite to eat that I actually have to chew. Know any place that's not crawling on a Friday evening?" "Hmmm, good luck. Shaggy's out the back gate is off limits, but every time I drive by the place is fucking deserted. If you go don't get caught. You're in enough shit with this unit; you don't need to step in it with their's too." "Thanks. Did they leave yet?" "You're handlers- I mean crew? Yeah. They ducked out about fifteen minutes ago." "Ah. While I was changing. You staying late sergeant?" "Signing this MAF off and then I'm out. Take it easy. "You too." Pearson walked out into the parking lot, shielding his eyes from the powering sun. He pulled out his phone, ignoring the '27 missed calls' and looked at the most recent text, the contact unknown. "Did they let you out?" He typed. "Yeah. I can talk now." There was only a few seconds pause. "Good. I have a few minutes to meet. Can you get away?" He thought for a moment, then replied: "Shaggy's. Out the back gate. Heading there now."

It took Pearson nearly fifteen minutes on his bicycle to get there. Just as Sgt. Thomas had described, the place was deserted: a battered looking van parked in the far corner of the parking lot and dilapidated RV could be seen poking out from around the back of the building. Pearson walked in, shivering slightly as the air conditioning met his sweaty skin. He sat down at the bar as a rather friendly looking tender with a long, greying beard walked in from the back. "What can I get you?" "I'll take a..." He looked over the taps. There was nothing he recognized. "Something good on tap. Do you serve food?" "Yep," the keeper said, grabbing a glass and pulling a beer. "Usual bar fare. I have a grill too." "I'll take a burger then, with everything on it." "Fries?" "Yes please." The keeper set the beer down and went into the back as the gurgle of a truck engine pulled up outside. It wasn't long before a stocky man in his mid to late fifties strolled in, clean shaved and short cut salt and pepper hair capping a weathered face. He sat down next to Pearson. "You're free now?" "Hi Stan. Yeah, only for today. I go back in tomorrow morning." The man shook his head. "Have you thought about trying to escape?" "How? I'm attached to them. It would be no different than going awol from my regular command." "Your regular command isn't locking you into an alien space suit for a month at a time." "That's true, but they might as well be. Since I'm fap'ed to them every order they give is that same as coming from my own CO. You know they'll go looking for me, too. Especially since I've been flying with them. You know the whole 'in the wrong hands' thing." The man sighed. The keeper came out from the back. "Anything to drink?" "What?" Stan said. "Oh, yeah. Got a lager on tap? Oh good. I'll have that." The barkeeper poured the beer and set it in front of the man before drying some glassware. "So," Stan said, "Since you've been with 'em for a while now have you picked up anything? Don't tell me you haven't learned nothin'." "Well..." Pearson said, looking at the keeper. Talking about anything important that he had learned: the Trisona, the battle group, or that the translation project wasn't some rumor was a terrible idea at best, even to Stan, and one that was right out of the question with other ears in the room. "Well? What are they up to Max? You have to know that. I mean, you're right there. What are they going to do?" "Going to do? Beats me. But I know what they are do-ing, as in right now. There is a Koaku, who are what we call Skinnies, armada at our fucking doorstep. I know that for sure, since we go out and patrol the DMZ every day we're not training with 212 here. They're out near the astroid dome, a ways out from Pluto, and staying there for now, but who knows how long that will last." "Huh. And how do you know they aren't one in the same?" The keeper excused himself to check the food and walked out. Max breath a small sigh of relief. The fewer ears overhearing even mundane stuff the better. "Well, for one thing their craft look different. We've run off a few that have tried to push things." "I understand that, but what's to say those aren't just a different kind of ship than they have here?" "Well, now that's a possibility, but-" The door opened. Pearson looked over his shoulder before quickly turning around and ducking down. "Oh shit," he said under his breath. "What's wrong? He's one of them?" "No," Pearson whispered. "Worse. I fucked his daughter." Stan winced. Matt plunked down on the other side of the man before peering across at Pearson. "Max! I didn't see you here!" He gave a twisted, cruel smile. "Enjoying life?" Maybe if he told them how rough he had it there would be some mercy. "No sir. Not at all. The rakkan have been keeping me shut up in a space suit and forcing me to learn this really hard shit to get out for a day about once a month. A day. As in one. Only if I pass my exam. If I don't then I stay in." "And today is that day?" "Yes sir." "What have you learned?" "Vector calculus, differential equations, and enough physics to make my head explode." Matt beamed. "Good! I'm glad to hear it. I hope they give you enough thermodynamics to kill a cow. Who's your friend?" Stan held out his hand. "Stan. More of an acquaintance." "Word of advice:," Matt said, motioning to Pearson, "...keep your daughter away from him." "Noted. But it doesn't sound like he'll be doing much of that any time soon." Matt grinned. "I know, ain't it great?" Stan gave the man a sideways smile. "Say, you know anything about the group of extra terrestrials that's here? You seem like you're at least familiar with them. I've got a funny feeling they're up to something." "Who, the weirdos in the fancy airplanes? Bah. If they're up to something it's the government behind it." "The government?" "Sure! They all look human don't they? They've got only one that looks like anything else, and it looks like a two legged dog from Earth. Anything alien would look completely unlike any living being down here. No, they're from the government, and the one is just some genetic experiment they threw into the group to make them more believeable." "So what about this skinny armada Max is referring to? And the space flights he's been on, what about them?." "He just said they keep him locked in a spacesuit!" Matt said. "They can project whatever that want onto that visor he has on in there. It's easy: they show him flying around in space while they fly around down here, so he feels like he's actually moving around up there. Just like a flight simulator." Stan looked at Matt in thought for a moment, then shook his head and grunted. "That seems awfully complicated just for one person." "They only need enough to convince everyone else. His unit knows Max is human for sure. He goes there, he comes back and tells everyone what he sees, they believe it because he's one of their fellow squadron mates and not some bigwig who might be passing BS under orders or other person hired to pass the crap." "Hmm. So what about this conversion stuff then? What if they're just disguised?" "You can what if all you want about anything," Matt said. "The real question is what makes sense: that they have this elaborate, fantastic shapeshifting ability, or that it's a convenient explanation why only one of them looks different, because in reality only one genetic experiment held it together enough to come out of the lab?" Stan leaned back and sighed. He checked his watch, finished his beer and put money on the bar. "I promised I'd meet, uh, friends for a cookout this evening. I'm not saying I agree with your point of view, Matt, but you've given me something to think about. We'll be in touch, Max." "See ya." The man walked out the door. Matt turned to Max as the truck gurgled to life outside. His hostility had vanished, leaving a simple seriousness. "You're lucky you came here," he said. His face morphed back into his sinister grin. "Speaking of which, there's a party for you in back. Get up." He stood and motioned for Max to do the same. Max shakily got off his stool and started towards the door, knowing he was marching to his doom. "Where the hell are you going?" Matt said. Max stared at him, dazed. Matt pointed to the door behind the bar. "Through there. Now move." Max swallowed, suddenly wishing he were going outside as Matt put hands on his shoulders. He was escorted down a short hall before Matt steered him left though an open door. Inside was a rather large room, nearly half the size of the bar out front. The sight inside that made him freeze, causing Matt to nearly run him over. A chorus of cheering went up from about twenty intoxicated rakkan, modified and otherwise. "PET!" Rika said. [I thought you knew this place was off limits!] "I..." Anger swept over him. [Then why the hell are you here?] Grenkle gave him a lopsided grin. [We're the reason it's off limits.] "Oh." Gamun bounded up, ramming her fist into his stomach before giving him a hug. He nearly lost his beer onto her. [Cratza for Pet! How'd he do, Keif?] [He did pretty good,] Keif said, who had just appeared behind him with a basket containing Max's order. [He told him about the Koaku and dodged the other stuff until Matt showed up. Here's your food, kid.] [Thanks,] Max said, taking the basket. Gamun was suddenly gone, replaced instantly by Shave. [Pearson.] [Yes sir?] he said, instantly feeling like he was in trouble. [If anyone attempts to press you for information you will bring them here and Shaggy will make sure that the situation is dealt with. Do you understand?] [Yes sir.] [Good. Questions?] [Am I in trouble sir?] Shave gave him a puzzled look. [No. Just make sure you bring them here in the future. You were lucky this time.] [Yes sir.] [Anything else?] [Who is Shaggy sir?] [I'll give you one guess as to Keif's native language.] [Oh. Yes sir.] [And kill the sir. It's patches off in here.] [Yes, er, ok.] A glass of something very dark green was thrust into his free hand. "What the hell is-" A thumb dug hard into the side of his neck. [Ah! Fuck! Sorry! What the hell is this?] Mallet grinned. [Cratza! Beer from home. Try it!] He took a suspicious sip. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't what he tasted. If salmon berries had a liver and if bananas could be mixed with uncooked carrots and kidney, all with the subtle bite and burn of alcohol then it would be the closest he could come to describing it. He was shocked, and yet it wasn't bad. He'd had far worse beer from Earth, that was for sure. He took another, more committed drink. He had know clue how it could be anything but terrible, yet the flavor was growing on him. Hell, he might even buy another. Across the room Lost tackled Smokey, who had been talking to Tits. There was a tussle, which ended with Lost being pinned. There was cheering before Smokey helped him back up. He was so distracted between the shenanigans and his food he didn't notice Rika until her nose approached his basket, sniffing heavily. [Hey! Get your own! I'm enjoying chewing why I can!] She laughed. A shadow fell over him. He looked up and felt the blood drain from his face. Bar's black form loomed over him. Just like the first time he had met her, the rakkan scared the hell out of him. [Wondering why you're not dead yet?] [Yes. I'm thankful we're not alone.] Ears flared out in what he was learning was a smile. [You'd walk away now. If we caught you alone when you were aboard the ship the first time... You'd make it back to your handler now.] She pointed to where Gamun was putting her beer down on the single table crowded with glasses before mimicking Rika's very Earth-in-origin play bow. [You have a good sergeant. Not many would be willing to punish you how she is.] [I know. I feel very lucky,] he said. Which was true. In thinking things over he realized that not many people would punish him in a way that would leave him better off. Hell, he was grateful he never "fell" out of an airlock. [I give him everything I can because of it,] he added. [It's not unnoticed. Your efforts are making it easier to forgive. Don't stop.] [I won't, ma'am.] [It's patches off, Max. That means you don't use those formalities.] [I know. I have a strong feeling you deserve that respect inside and outside military formalities. The others act like it.] Bar smiled again. Warmer this time. [Thank you.] Matt peered out from behind Bar. [It's not like she runs the show next to the patriarch at home or anything.] [Mm. You reminded me, troublemaker,] she said, [you and Pearson leave here together tonight. Go out the front. That way if there are any eyes watching all they will see is the two humans Stan left at the bar earlier.] [Can do.] Pearson nodded. Across the room Bork had snuck up with an ice cube behind Kancho, who was explaining something to a suddenly very interested Macksan. Ungow and Durks looked like a couple of old codgers having a philosophical debate in the corner. Bagom and Niedka were wrestling on the ground again, quickly joined by Grum, Gamun, and Rika before they crashed into a chair. Grenkle scolded for a second before a playful Rika wrestled him into it as well. Pearson leaned back against the wall and munched away at his food, marveling at how the longer he was with them the less they felt like aliens. A little less fur and change the clothing on the fuzzier ones and he could have just as easily been in a room with his fellow marines. Or not. None of the furniture had been broken yet.

Shepard took her seat next to Sparks, crossed her arms, and waited for the briefing to begin. "You don't seemed thrilled about this, Shep. I figured you out of all people would be looking forward to finally getting a leg up instead of simply being swatted like flies." "Hmmm." "You don't think any of this will make a difference?" She gave him a look that said "Are you really going to buy it?" and scratched her arm right around the band. "Ah." "Uh huh." "So why-" Mallet made eye contact with Sparks and winked. He got the message and dropped the subject. Shave took his seat, shortly followed by Woody. Slosh stepped forward, holding a football-sized model of a farrom. "I am Sergeant Yasoolik, flight engineer for the Farrom 9. Today I will be giving instruction on thermal detection of space craft along with sergeants Yasoi and Yasoud, using the informal lecture method. Am I correct in assuming the engines on the F/A-18 generate an amount of heat that is released in the exhaust? That is what that lovely bright tail is behind you, yes?" The room full of aviators nodded, all sharing the same look of "Duh, dumbass. It burns jet fuel." "So, you can use this heat to target and lock missiles onto, and you use flare in an attempt to divert said locks away from you. You can lessen the amount of heat you release by cutting your throttles, but you cannot completely negate it unless you completely power down." He broke into a grin. "Are you bored yet?" There were a few chuckles. Shepard smiled. "So, the entirety of your heat generated, discounting avionics and your body heat, is from combustion. In your case jet fuel, but you could use nitrocellulose, hydrogen peroxide, etcetera etcetera. Think about in your mind just how much heat that is. Think about how much you release every second, and how your engine dissipates that heat to keep it from burning up your aircraft, all that hot air out the back in other words, and hold that image there for a minute." He paused. "No spacecraft you will ever fly against uses internal combustion. Instead most use fission reactions of one form or another, so now imagine trying to dissipate the heat from a tiny star." Eyes grew wide, some sooner than other. Shepard found herself shocked. She had even ridden in one, but it had never occurred to her how they were powered. She should have been awestruck by those accelerations. Dear lord that must have been a huge power plant. "Nothing in the universe is excused from the laws of thermodynamics," he said. "You can bend them, but you cannot break them. In space there is no convection or conduction, so less effective methods of heat dissipation are used. Since you are only fighting in atmosphere I won't cover those for now, but they will be worth noting later on." He held up the model. "The most common form of heat dissipation used by any spacecraft is radiation, and that method still used in atmosphere, but dominated by the flow of air over the surface, giving us convection, but also leaving a stream of very hot air... more so than your jets." Several pilots nodded approvingly. It made sense, but if that were the case then why did they always appear from nowhere? "Now," he continued, "There is a catch." Shepard perked up. Of course there was a catch. What she wanted to know was if there could be a work around. "Every space craft, Koaku and otherwise, has both a gravitational well and hill to provide thrust. This greatly distorts the air currents behind the vessel, making this hot air a poor way to target. It's a great way to know someone is in the general area, but beyond that it's relatively useless unless you're trying to shoot it down with one of your nuclear missiles. I still see yawns, you can't target that way anyway... yet. Sergeant Yasoud?" Mallet stepped forward. "Even though a lot of heat is lost by convection in the atmosphere radiated heat is still released, and while it might be slightly distorted at the hill and well it is a much more accurate method locating craft. You're older FLIR does the same thing- locating and targeting based on object radiation, not general heat radiation. We will be flying the next few training missions at night to give you better contrast of this theory until you have a better grasp on locating via IR shadow rather than direct targeting." Shepard leaned in. She knew this lecture would be useless in providing any aid, but she doubted it was hot air, either, which made it very interesting. "Now," Mallet said, "there are three ways we dissipate heat: passive dissipation, dynamic dissipation, and venting. Venting is a whole other animal we will get into later, so we'll focus on the first two. What Sergeant Yasoolik explained described both of these methods. Passive dissipation is the most efficient option, and if they don't know you can look for them or are looking for them this will be the method the Koaku will most likely use. The entire hull of the vessel is one uniform temperature, taking advantage of the increase in surface area to lower surface temperature and save energy having to push all the heat into one area. The other is dynamic dissipation, where the engineer changes what parts of the vessel the heat is released on in order to mask the heat signature as much as possible. Flatface is notorious at this," The crews of farroms 9 and 10 nodded in agreement. "-and so I will let her explain that process and tactics." Rika stepped forward, holding a drop LED light from one of the shops. She held the light towards the aircrew. "Tell me which is more noticeable: This." She turned the light on, effectively blinding everyone in the room. She turned it off again. "Or this," she said, ignoring the complaints. She turned the light towards the board and turned in on again. "First one, right? This is the principle of dynamic dissipation. When you shine a light into space, nobody can see it unless they are in the way. Since light isn't concentrated unless in the form of a laser, 'in the way' covers a lot of area. When craft visit Earth and are trying to hide from people on the surface they will likely dissipate up, giving you a nice, fat target from above. On the other hand, if they know you are after them..." She shone the light on the board again. "-they make things more difficult. Mallet, Slosh." The two engineers moved against the board. Flatface slowly walked past, shining the light on them while they squinted.. "Notice how the shadows move on the board? The same is true for the heat radiated in dynamic dissipation. You can use triangulation with the shadows, as well as the change in shape and size, to determine location, heading, altitude and speed of the craft. This is a lot of math to be done very quickly, so it's a good idea to get a feel for it because you might not have your avionics in a real fight. We are trying to make one of our programs that does these calculations compatible for your avionics and hopefully a computer you can bring with that isn't as susceptible to their interference." She looked up at Shave and cocked her head, as if uncertain or curious. "...and the last our XO checked we were told it should be ready in a couple of days for you to test, am I correct sir?" Shave nodded. "Yes." "After tonight you should have some video to review to see what we mean;" she said, "until then, playing around with a flashlight and the rocks outside isn't a bad way to get a feel for what to look for with your FLIR pods. Later we will get into what happens when the engineer changes how heat is dissipated while in flight. Are there any questions before we hand it off to the mission briefing?" There were a few moments of silence. Echo put his hand up. "I do." "Yes sir?" "What good is this if we're just going to get smacked out of the air like soggy piñata?" Flatface didn't miss a beat. "You cannot evade what you cannot see, sir. Work on finding the enemy for now, and we'll work on dodging the stick later. Anything else?" There were no other hands. "Very well. I hand it to Lieutenant Commander Yasoud." She turned and left, along with the other two engineers. Brakes got up and pulled down the screen as an archaic ceiling mounted projector fired up. "We'll be using the same area we have been..."

"#Reset Ledger.#" "#Ledger resetting.# Echo slapped the canopy rail. "Wonderful. 'Now we'll turn invisible, so look for barely visible distortions on my tiny ass as I whip through the sky like a scalded hog.' This is bullshit." "I agree," Sparks said. "First heat detection is thrown moot with their dynamic dissipation or whatever, and now this. They give us another technique and another tool, and then show us how pointless it is. I'm inclined to think this whole exercise is merely a point to prove how useless it is to resist Skinnies. -Or rakkan for that matter." "C'mon Shepard," Cypher said, "we know you can't tell us what the point of this is, but can you at least tell us if there's any point in it at all?" "I can tell you there is a purpose and a very good one." "What is it then? Is it just to prove helplessness?" There was silence. "Damnit." "Would you do any different in my shoes?" Shepard said. "...No. It's just frustrating knowing you have answers." "You know," Sparks said, "If Shepard can't answer that question, then it probably means you're right, Cypher. I see no reason why she would have to hide the intentions of this if it were at face value." There were a few seconds of silence. "Well now that brings up a whole 'nother slew of questions if that were the case," Cypher said. "And we can't get any answers to those for sure." "Not from Shepard," Echo said, "But there's someone else we can ask. Someone who is more likely to say something. Someone who might actually feel pressure." "It would greatly behove you to leave Corporal Pearson alone, Echo," Shepard said. "Since when where you interested in protecting him, Shep?" Sparks said. "Don't tell me he's become part of your problem too." "There is a much smaller danger to your health from abusing one of Master Gun's marines than one of Commander Yasoud's, and I don't want anything to happen to someone in our unit. Especially because of what they did to someone in theirs." "#This time instead of looking for our shadow put some distance between yourselves,#" Smokey said. "#Active cloaking is only effective against a very, very small area, and so separating enough to give two distinct perspectives will allow at least one to obtain a visual. From there it you can narrow the location for your wingman to search for the shadows.#" "Copy Ghost," Sparks said, splitting off. "This is stupid," Cypher said. "How the fuck does one spot a farrom sized blob moving the speed of heat thirty thousand feet below you on uneven terrain?" "I haven't had any luck yet," Echo said. "I really hope they have software for this, too." "#We do,#" Brakes said. "#but it was written in Arlomic it's being finicky on converting over to english. Who'd have thought the interface language would make such a difference in the underlying programming?#" "Holy!" Echo said. "Can't you give us at least a little privacy?" "#Do you think the Koaku will?#" "No." "#At least we let you know.#" Echo stewed in his seat. That was it. He was going to get some answers.

#### "Echo." He looked up from his phone. Cypher was staring out over the parking lot. "What?" "I think Corporal Pearson is done with Chemistry." "Really? Two weeks already? Holy shit!" "I think we should take him out tonight. On us. Our treat." "Oh?" "Yeah. He's alone. He's not in his suit, which means they don't have their finger on him like they do Shep." "I don't think so. She was pretty clear in not pressing him. She damn near ordered us." Cypher gave him a sideways smile. "She has to protect herself and her daughter. Of course she would say that. We'll just take him someplace where there will be minimal if any ears to over hear, that's it." He considered it for a minute. The questions from earlier still burned at him. Shepard did have very valid reasons to dissuade them. Perhaps this was a time where begging for forgiveness was better than asking permission. "Actually," he said, watching Cpl. Pearson pause to play with his phone. "I know of a good place."

"Hey, Corporal." Pearson looked up, noticing the ancient truck beside him for the first time. The passenger door was open. "Yes sir?" "Come on in. We understand you've been putting a lot into studying, and we'd like to celebrate your passing Sergeant Yasoud's chemistry test." Cpl. Pearson eyed Echo suspiciously. " 'We', sir? " There was a shove from behind him, and he spun to see Cypher's large frame. "Get in." "Ma'am, I-" She practically threw him into the truck. "I said get in. Geeze, you'd think we were about to NJP you or something." She climbed in after him. Smashing him between Echo and herself. The shifter was in a dangerous position between his legs. Echo let out the clutch. "Watch your nuts."

On the steps to the command building Lieutenant Commander Sadok sighed and pulled out her cellphone, dialing. She didn't wait long. "Good evening, ma'am! How may I help you?" Sgt. Yasoi said. Oh lord. Here we go...

"So where is this quiet place again?" Cypher said as they cleared the back gate. "Oh, it's about a mile out from here," Echo said. "It's supposedly off limits, so the result is it's always empty. One or two patron's tops." "Uh," Pearson said. "Isn't this fraternization?" "What's it called?" she asked, ignoring him. "Shaggy's," Echo said. "You don't want to go to Shaggy's, sir," Pearson said. "Oh? Why not?" "It's... It's not a good idea sir. For any of us. We should stay away from there. Someplace else." Cypher regarded him with curiosity. "What's wrong Corporal?" "It's not a good idea to go there, ma'am. Please trust me. We'll all be in deep shit if we go there." "We're both going to be there too," Cypher said. "If anyone gets into trouble for being off limits it will be us, not you." "It's not that!" Pearson said. "Do not go there! Anywhere else sir, but not there!" The bar came into sight. "What's the real reason Pearson. Why not? Tell us." "For the love of God, Lieutenant Thompson! DO. NOT. GO. THERE!" Both of them looked at him in shock. Cypher broke into a sadistic grin. "Oh, we're definitely going there now." He whimpered as they pulled into the parking lot. "All of you officers are the same," he said as they marched him through the door. "We enlisted try out damnedest to warn you and steer you way from trouble, but the harder we try, the more adamant you are about stepping in it. God fucking damnit." He sighed. "Well, grab your ankles sir and ma'am, because we're fucked." They had walked up to the bar as these last words left his mouth. The room, much like the parking lot, was deserted. Perhaps it was the emptiness that gave the bar a foreboding atmosphere, or maybe it was the defeated tone in Cpl. Pearson's voice, but regardless Echo realized that the Corporal really had been trying to advert something bad, even though he didn't know what. For whatever reason a sinister fog seemed to hang over the place. "Alright. Lets leave then." Cpl. Pearson shook his head and sat down on a stool. "It's too late now. Don't you understand what I've been trying to tell you? You brought me here to squeeze information out of me and now your ship is sunk. They were here before we left the gate. You went right to them, taking me with you. We're all fucked." The door opened behind them. Echo recognized the voice before he had finished turning around, his blood running cold at the sound of it. "Marcus!" Lt. Cmdr Yadoud's cheerful voice couldn't have felt more chilling. "How kind of you to conduct your business with Corporal Pearson here of all places!" There were more footsteps. Rakkan, both those he recognized and those he did not came out from the door behind the counter. Both he and Cypher backed deeper into the room, further way from both doors. Several more unmodified rakkan flooded in from both entries, either in full flight suit with a face shield up or in what Echo immediately recognized as combat gear. The three sergeants he was familiar with were soon out front, multi-tools drawn and aimed at both him and Cypher. "On the ground, Pearson." Sergeant Yasoi, ordered. Pet flew off the stool and dropped like he was in bootcamp. She ignored him, her attention on Echo and Cypher instead. "You two turn around and put your hands on your head." Cypher stood for a moment, then crouched slightly, bringing her fists up. "If you think for one moment, that I'm going to-" There was a blinding flash, and when Echo could see again Cypher lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. He held his hands out to either side, making sure they were non-threatening and in clear view. "Now sergeant, isn't there another way to deal with this? Surely we don't have to-" "Put your hands on your head and turn around," Shave said. "You can do this the easy way, or," he nodded to Cyphers limp form, "the hard way. Your choice." Echo fought the urge to shake as he put his hands on his head and turned around. Instantly there was activity behind him. Echo looked down as his hands were drawn behind him. Cpl. Pearson was still laying on the ground, unmolested. He looked up at him and mouthed: "I fucking told you." Rika pulled a small sack over Echo's hand, forcing it into a fist before it shank down, gripping it securely. She repeated the process with the other sack, connected at the wrist. Echo flexed his fingers only to find he couldn't do more than wiggle them slightly in their closed position. Grabbing anything was clearly out of the picture, even if it didn't feel like his wrists were welded together, crossed behind his back. To his right, Cypher was cuffed in the same way. He saw her groan and struggle briefly before he heard her mutter. "Ah, shit." A hood was pulled over his head. His world went dark, and then he felt it shrink in around him, everything growing silent.

Rika grabbed him just above an elbow and shoved him forward. He stumbled forward until getting the hang of it as she roughly guided him down the hall, out the back, and to the ladder of the awaiting Farrom. He smashed his shins against the first rung before figuring out what she wanted and stumbling up the remaining rungs. She pushed him into the back room before shoving him down onto the bed. To her relief he didn't struggle, only rolled to take the pressure off his arms. She pulled a small panel above the head of the berthing bay and withdrew the back-up life support collar on its umbilical. She snapped it around the base of his hood before pulling the restraint sheet up and over his head. She watched him panic slightly as it collapsed around him, gripping him firmly in place. [My turd is secure. How are you fairing with the other?] [This bitch won't stop fighting,] Mallet said. She was breathing hard. [She doesn't know when she's beat. I've gotten the point of *ugh* just flashing her every time she wakes up. My tools running low on juice.] [Need help?] [Not anymore. We *pant* just finished carrying her up the ladder. *Ugh* Stuffing her into the -oh no you don't, bitch- uh, berthing. Now just to hook her up and restrain.] [Ok. Where is Pearson?] [Dunno.] [Shave, sir? What should I do with Pearson?] [Liaison is taking Pearson to... somewhere. One mentioned rape, someone said tour of the desert, and another said something about a cookout. Nobody answered my questions and it's not our problem. We're waiting on you to depart.] Rika scrambled into the cockpit and into her station, closing the hatches in the process. On her console the IST, already running, finished and blinked go. She hadn't started it. She looked at Lost. He smiled and winked. [All go sir.] [Good. Crew status. Smokey.] [Go.] [Lost.] [Go.] [Flatface.] [Go.] [Prisoner.] Rika pulled up Echo's status. His vitals said he was nervous as hell, but other than that he was fine. [Prisoner is Go.] [All go,] Shave said. [Suits,] Rika said, then pressed the lock. There was the telltale pinch at her neck, and she watched every suit give her a "go" status. [Who's not sealed?] she said. The checklist never trusted indicators alone. Silence. [Depressurizing cabin.] She initiated the cabin atmosphere scavenge as Shave pulled them off the ground.

[How's the amazon?] Rika said, watching Shave line up with the Trisona. [Still panicking,] Mallet said. [It's almost entertaining. Her vitals are through the roof, and I keep listening in on her. You should hear her talk to herself: it's hilarious. She's going to do so much too us. Oh, you'd better look out... yet she can't do more than twitch right now.] [Wow.] Rika watched the bay, illuminated against the darkened side of the Trisona, loom closer. [She's going to be exhausted before they even get started.] [Not my problem. And nitwit?] [Indicators say he's still stressed, but he's working hard to keep calm. We'll see how long that lasts.] She felt the skids touch down on the bay floor. She restored cabin pressure as the rest of the crew finished their post-landing procedures. Once pressure was restored she unlocked suits, opened the hatch, and pushed the vessel into stand-by. Shave exited down the ladder as Lost and Smokey stood outside the compartment door while she went it to get Echo out. She released the restraining sheet and watched him wiggle with his newfound freedom. She put a hand on him and he froze as she disconnected the life-support collar and stowed it. She grabbed him by the elbow and pulled towards the edge of the bed. He complied, scooting to the edge before she guided him into a standing position. She pushed him forward into Smokey and Lost, who managed to get him down the ladder without simply kicking him down it... a performance she witnessed on a struggling Cypher across the bay. [Holy shit! Don't break her neck, Mallet!] Smokey said. [Sorry sir. She limited my options.]

Something poked at his neck, and the hood relaxed before it was abruptly jerked off his head. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, making out that he was in a hanger of some sorts. He was surrounded by the same people he was before, with a large door across the hanger opening to reveal a security detail of about eight more unadapted rakkan in combat gear. Movement caught his eye beside him, and he saw Cypher struggling against the crew of the Farrom 10. "Cypher, pick your battles," he said. "If you think for one minute I'm ever going to stop resisting, -HOOF!" Lost nailed her in the solar plexus with his fist. "Shut up." Echo swallowed as an angry, human figure in a rakkan uniform closely followed the security detail. As his current guards were relieved his gut once again scrambled to his throat. Col. Oontini did NOT look pleased; Echo picturing his anger like a caustic, living fog flowing hungrily across the bay at him. The man glared at the two naval officers. "How in the massive expanse of the universe did you two think that was a good idea? Commander Yasoi, Commander Yasaoud, and Commander Yasoolik: dismiss your crews and follow me to interrogation." He looked at the Sergeant of the security detail and nodded towards the captives. "Take them there." "Yes sir." They were escorted into a passageway, turned down another, then arrived at a pair of double doors with a soggy "T" on them. It didn't take him long to recognize it as a waiting room, and apparently Cypher figured out what it was too. "Oh, fuck," she whispered. They pushed open the double doors beside the reception clerk's booth. Echo went limp. He had seen enough sci-fi and horror movies to know what lay beyond those doors. Humans don't go to alien medical centers for healing, and he already knew he was up to his neck in shit as it was. It didn't phase his guards though. It took four of them, but they simply dragged him until he decided if he could do anything about it he might as well walk. Behind him Cypher tried to fight and was flashed out again. He could hear the security personnel grumble as they dragged her limp for along, winding through the passageways behind him. They weren't gentle. Finally they arrived at a door at the end of a hall. Col. Oontini paused before opening it into a dark room. Echo was pushed forward as a dim light came on. Cypher was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor behind him. Then the door closed...

"Oh shit," Gunny said. "That ain't half of it," Echo said, logging into his computer. "There's the typical yelling and screaming while they beat the piss out of us. You wouldn't believe it, but what they don't have in upper body strength those fuckers make up for in legs. Shave kicked me in the chest so hard I bounced off the back wall and hit the front again. It felt like a fucking sledgehammer. I'm still wondering why my heart is still beating, let alone why I don't have broken ribs. Holy shit." He stopped and looked Gunny in the eye. "Then they turned a light on in another other room, and I found we were in an observation room for the real interrogation chamber. That is the most terrifying thing I have ever seen in my fucking life." "A lot of needles and gigantic probes?" Echo shook his head. "No. Just a simple table - like they use for lethal injections, only simpler. But there's this thing that goes around the head and... and... There's no doubt in my mind that if they want something you know, they'll get it. And if there is something they want you to forget, they'll make you forget it." "Holy shit! You don't think they used it on-" Echo shook his head. "No. It was fucking filthy. Dusty as fuck. They had some non-rate show up to clean it right after they turned the lights on and they told him to stand by. It hasn't been used in a long time, but they were going to use it on us. Jesus christ, being tortured is one thing, but to change your memory? To have someone review and know everything you remember like data on a hard drive?" He shivered. His voice grew quiet. "Standing there I would have taken a waterboarding, a hammer, tongs and a bowl full of coals rather than lay on that table. Fuck that. No wonder the MO is so tight-lipped. I would be too. Holy shit." There were a few seconds of silence. "So then what?" Gunny probed. "Do you remember anything?" Echo shook his head. "Their version of a CAG walked in, 'least I think that's who he was, looked at us and said 'Do I make myself clear?' I swear that's the crispest 'Yes sir' I've ever said since O.C.S. Then he walked back out. Colonel Oontini told us the only reason he wasn't cleaning the room with the table in it was because Commander Sadok had called and begged and pleaded with him not to. So they locked us in another room with the lights off for hours until we repeated the silent dark ride back here where Sergeant Yasoi finally released me and kicked me out the door onto the gravel parking lot next to Shaggy's. That was about five this morning, and my truck had magically vanished. Cypher and I walked, well, limped, back, changed into uniform and came here." Gunny gave him a wry look. "Has anyone seen you yet, sir?" "Lieutenant Commander Sadok was leaving when we came home, but that's it. Why?" "You look like you got hit by a truck. You might want to wash up and maybe get a little ice." "Crud. Thanks." "'s why I'm here sir. I have to ask though: out of all places why Shaggy's?" "It was quiet, out of the way, and once Pearson resisted going there we confirmed that's where we were going to take him. I didn't know that it was..." "-a rakkan safe house? I'm shocked you didn't know, sir. The bar tender speaks fluent arlomic, their skipper was in an empty bar 'hoping to hear something', and two of the three farrom crews that have only been on Earth a few days show up to a little, out of the way pub that even most people who have been stationed here for a year still don't know exists. I made the assumption after their skipper walked out." Echo groaned. "And that's the reason it's off limits. Fuck. I should have known when Pearson became terrified of going there. I bet the MO tipped them off we had him, too. I don't blame her for covering her ass like that. And if she did beg... I owe her." "Do you have to go talk with her?" "No, but I should before I have to talk to someone else. I don't think they'll get the command involved, not after doing this, but just in case I need get on it." "Mm. Did she say anything when you passed her this morning?" "Well..." "Oh?" "She said 'I warned you.'"

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