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“Hey, how you holding up?”

Roland’s ear just twitched; she wasn’t sure what she was meant to say, though Zeb’s little smile was at least some comfort. A genuine question meant in good faith; a pleasant change.

It did help to take away from the look Cu was giving her. The vulpine was still quite displeased to see Roland hadn’t filled the transferred paper as if that was ever going to be a possibility… The CMC would never going to let her go away, they lacked replacements and even merging squads had not helped to fill all the gaps.

Whomever was orchestrating the grand campaign must have considered getting to Joplin more important than getting replacements; or maybe the hope was to rush with what they had... She needed to stop thinking.

Still some of the gaps had been filled and it was that fact which helped to diffuse Cu’s distain of the spotted lupine. Not because her mind would ever change, but simply because a bigger issue had taken her attention.

A maroon red vulpine took a seat in front of her and as soon as that happened all of Cu’s attention was put on him.

Sub Lt. Draud, a new vulpine to the team and now Cu’s ‘help’. Somebody had to be squad leader with Garand gone and If anyone was going to jump in those boots so quickly it would have been Cu.

“You shouldn’t worry about her… She’ll get passed all that shit; you know what they’re like” Zed made the off – hand comments knowing fine and well where Roland was looking.

“I know vulpines don’t forget” she replied with a low tone.

“Well when the rounds start flying she’ll quickly make amends” Zed seemed to finish on that, quite satisfied with his words as he continued to eats his soup. Roland however just contented herself to stir her spoon around; the foreboding feeling of pre – combat had a way of curbing her appetite. Her guts could be pining but just the thought of a coming combat drop would have her unable to stomach a thing…

Maybe it wasn’t all bad, quick transports planet side had a way of making people sick.

Though, the rational still wouldn’t save her from the awkward sounds of an empty stomach when at attention in a quiet room…

The thought of that was finally enough to tempt her to eat; they still had time.

“So yous think the war’s going to end after this?” Mark asked, the human had been another knew arrival during the reformation of the CMC units. He didn’t speak with a positive or negative tone, just a flat inquisitive one. He likely had his feelings but possibly wanted to see the collective opinion.

“Well there’s always going to be war” Argyle replied, the Cainianid had been another new edition; he seemed a good soldier but not all the lights were on.

“Am talking about the war with Feds” Mark corrected, seemingly not concerned by Argyle’s confusion. The dog’s eyes went wide as he mumbled a quiet profanity at his own stupidity before compromising with silence.

Mark had a quick pear about the table; from what it seemed no one was taking interest. He tried again, “come on, I ain’t a party stiff; not going to dob anyone in for the wrong opinions on the war”

That got everyone looking about for a minute while Roland just tried to look absent; conversations about war at the dinner table… Never a good idea.

“I’ll hopefully be able to get out before the next war happens” Jones mumbled.

“With the Federals?” Mark was clearly looking for a clarification on that point.

Jones looked dead on at Mark; pausing his hand mid-way into trying to sip his water. “I’ll hopefully be able to get out before the next war happens”. He was only going to give that response and thus Mark accepted it.

“Will still likely be skirmishing… I’ll give it two weeks after the treaty; everyone’s so desperate for jump fuel no one’s ever going to sit quietly over those place even if all they have is drips and drops” Nix said, Mix was quick to pick it up “but it keeps us in a job”

“But that’s what the war with the Feliaes is for” Nix responded but to that Mix only grimaced

“Well, no one wants to get stuck in that quagmire -”

The two Yersins started to go off on their own discussion on where the best places to be stationed were when (if) the war ended.

Mark’s sights finally came to Roland, completely aware of the fact she was trying to put herself outside of the conversation. “Come on, you’ve got to have an opinion; your kind always getting put in the services”

Roland took a couple piecemeal glances before giving a responses with her eyes directed away, “just get through this and hopefully coast the rest of this contract”

There was something anxious in those words though she held it well, Mark decided against pressing any other questions in her direction.

“What about those two” Mark said point a hand behind his back to the table of foxes “I mean it seems no matter what squads, sections, divisions or services you’re in all those vulpines keep to themselves”

Jones had a pear to that table which really wasn’t that far away. The vulpines chatter never stopped though the twisting ears said otherwise; “you might want to lower your tone” Jones followed as he looked to Mark before looking behind him.

Mark’s tone didn’t change, seemingly he had no concern. “What you think I care what those pompous blowhards think?”

It was in that moment Mark realized Jones wasn’t looking at him, but behind him. He just squinted his eyes; the dawning realization of a man who just stepped in shit on his own accord.

“Is there a problem soldier?”

Cu was standing behind Mark, this annoyed look on her face regarding the man’s willing to complain about her and her kind. Draud had also followed behind her as well, though he seemed less concerned, if anything more pleased to be away from a table of his own.

“No Lt. We’re just having a friendly discussion; maybe you’d like to involve yourself?” Mark tried his best to sound polite though not meek in face of Cu’s loaming.

She only snuffed dismissively, “I doubt it’s worth my time”. Mark only rolled his eyes to that.

“Well, what are you talking about?” Draud seemed to take legitimate interest; uncharacteristic though not unappreciated. Cu seemed more horrified by that than anything which just transpired.

“Do think the war’s going to end after this?” Mark was more than happy to indulge Draud’s curiosity.

Cu just shook her head, she already admitted she had no interest in putting an opinion into such things. Draud on the other hand tapped a hand to the underside of his muzzle thoughtfully.

“Well this war will end, bu - er” Draud seemed to paused half – way, as if he wanted to say more though thought it unrelated, Mark jumped on that “so your feelings are a bit like mine”

“I didn’t say that”

“But you thought it?”

Cu looked between the two, for once at a loss to what they were going on about, everyone else at the table also took a small slice of interest .

“I wouldn’t be a betting man about such things” Draud said, still sounding vague to everyone else but Mark seemed to understand.

“So you’ve been reading the back end of command reports?” Mark probed further but the Vulpine just raised a hand an wiggled it in a ‘half – and – half’ type of manner.

“I pick up naval communication… And maybe have a friend who shares”

“You know that’s against regs” Cu interjected; it didn’t seem to mean much to anyone right now, really it just seemed she wasn’t happy to be left out.

Draud was quick to close that issue, “I hear what I hear, sue me” that had Cu go quiet.

“So do you think it’s bad?” Mark followed up as Draud came back to him.

“Well, it could always be worse” Draud commented.

Jones finally looked between the two, his curiosity was peaked though he didn’t want to admit it “the hell are you two going on about?”

Draud and Mark turned to Jones, though it was Mark who spoke, “troubles on the Homefront; not bad, but not reassuring”

“What kind of not reassuring?” Nix said as both him and Mix were quick to come back from their own conversation. Trouble behind the lines was an easy way to get people intrigued (maybe not in the greatest of ways)…

“Two draft riots, one last week, one just quelled yesterday” Mark said and Draud was quick to add onto it “and a mutiny on a battleship in the 6th fleet; I’d also say it’s of no comfort to hear 7th fleet is supposedly on anti - insurgent patrols”

That got a quiet *snrk* out of Mark “ah yes, sending the museum fleet to keep things together” and from that Draud let out a snicker though as he looked about the blank face he slowly came to the realization their conversation was not going anywhere, or not appreciated. He’d just leave his talk at that smiling at Mark before looking at Cu “and you told me these folks had nothing of worth to say; maybe you’ve got too much wax in your ears”.

At that point the Cu jabbed Draud in the arm before walking away; maybe it would appear despite Cu’s promotion to squad leader Draud presences as squad assistant was in no way assisting.

He looked across the table again nodding his head happily “it’s a pleasure to meet you all” and with that he went off; likely following Cu and try to make amends.

He had to be an off – worlder, you wouldn’t get that attitude from a vulpine who’d been shipped from a native world barracks.

“Nice to have a friendly one for a change” Jones said.

“Am sure there’s got to be more to it” Zeb responded skeptical, though before anyone else could make comment the intercom chimed;

/Attention, Attention: Fleet has entered the staging zone; higher security protocols are now active/

That made the mess quiet for a second, maybe two before the chatter resumed.

“Guess it’s going to be showtime soon” Jones mumbled.

Roland only produced a very quiet whine.

#######################################################

With a calm and steady hand Roland ran her rag all around the bolt of her MG6. If there was one benefit to the higher protocols it was the fact troops now had the authorization to keep their weapons to hand and Roland found the practice of maintenance and cleaning somewhat therapeutic.

Maybe that was one of the contradictions she could accept about herself; her distain for this service, the violence, blood…Death… She still had an affinity for her weapons, their parts, construction, their feel… As pieces of technology and craft she was wondered by them, even for the mass produced nature of most CSS weapons, hers still had a firmness and reassurances that had her feeling these were pieces that would long out last her.

Even just the raw power of her MG, taking it to the range was something that gave Roland pure ecstasy. 1,200 rounds a minute; she could feel it in her shoulder though she found the weapon a pleasure to handle. If only the armory took in her species, that would have made her time so much easier; maybe would have even tempted her to stay.

That seemed to flick her head with happy thoughts; a little arms store in a quiet part of the galaxy, worlds away from all of this. It wouldn’t make her father happy; ‘a priestess of Strel’… She tried to meet his hopes half – way as a archivist. He had always been the spiritual type though that wasn’t to deny her mother own belief but then she was practically on the other end of the spectrum a devotee of Igo. Nana would say it was something of opposites attract; they constrained each other as much as they tempted. It seemed unhealthy but Nana always used to laugh it off; Oh not to worry sweet; your mother saved your father from turning into a plant with how much he sits with his papers and journals; and your father likely kept your mother from floating into space with how lofty mind of hers…

There was a knock on her cabin door as Roland’s gaze snapped up from her weapon. She felt slightly awkward with all the parts of her gun laid out about the floor, her scratched up receiver right out to the front.

She just shook her head as she came over to the door “h – hello?” She felt like a goof talking to the door, though once it opened and Cu’s vestige appeared in the door way Roland respond like clockwork with a salute and at attention stance.

“Lieutenant”

Cu just waved her hand “no need for any of that” she had a dry tone, maybe fed up with the protocol at this point int time or potentially annoyed the only person to salute her had to be Roland…

Cu’s eyes gave the slightest glimpse at the disassembled MG, “getting ready?”

“Yes Lieutenant”

“So I take it you just disposed of that reassignment paper I gave you?”

Roland just went quiet, the one awkward thing that left her unsure of what she was meant to say, so she just kept silent.

“Forget it, it’s not like it would have mattered; lacking in replacements, so it’s not like the administration would have put you anywhere else but here” Cu sighed. It was clear this was in no way an attempt to make a amends or if it was, it was not a very good one… Or maybe that was the quality she should have expected from vulpines… No there had to be more formalities to making this interaction happen.

“We’re entering the system tonight” (there it was) “you’re to get your equipment together 0500, muster in the hanger at 0540 and we’re going to be planet side 0630… Do you understand?”

“Yes Lieutenant”

With that Cu seemed to look Roland up and down with a least the smallest modicum of satisfaction (if such a word existed in the vulpine vocabulary).

But Cu stayed in the door way, seemingly thinking through one last thing before speaking “you’re going to step up right; cause I ain’t watching your ass if you start wanning, you understand that?”

“Yes Lieutenant” Roland’s tone stayed consistent, flat, militaristic.

Cu nodded her head again, maybe this time it was satisfaction or least the opening of it, no, she probably only get that after proving herself in battle… Or maybe she was just chasing shadows thinking like that.

“I’ll see you in the morning” on that Cu stepped back and the door closed by itself, the moment over as quick as that and the isolating silence of the cabin taking over, though it didn’t feel as pleasant as before.

Roland just shook it off, turning around and coming back to her dismantled weapon, crouching back down to it as she slowly began to put it back together. Making sure to check it over once more, being sure every part was back where it belong without a speck of dust, debris or anything else that could hamper its function.

She and the other would be relying on this weapon to work well and a failure at the wrong time could put everything in a ditch.

She whispered a small prayer; a hope that the Gods would let her get through this battle and if not, they grant her a quick end…

#######################################################

He went on for about two hours, maybe even three if Benji had actually paid attention to what his friend was saying. He knew it was a harsh way to think but he also knew it was the reality; the Federation was not known for its charity and really whatever small part of it was giving had already gave what it had.

From Benji’s position he was sure the Joplin was set to be a simple sacrificial lamb to the CSS in a moment of war weariness… If it had been anywhere else… no… If it had been an actually important planet something might have happened; guards rallied, mercenaries paid, hell the size of a major world population may have had a militia sufficient enough in itself both in regards to the ground and space.

Johnny came back, finally it dawned to him his voice was only going out and into the wind “I can’t… I can’t understand” he was clearly disheartened his ears flopped down.

Benji could only console his friend with a light embrace, feeling well aware any words of reasons would only make the boys mood worse.

Though it was in trying to look past Johnny that Benji made out the approaching figure, this old looking human with clear cybernetics poking from the side of his head; if there was more they were well hidden beneath this long coat.

“I couldn’t help but hear your plight gentlemen” he spoke with this lofty tone like a man even older than he was though it did run a fine line of venomous self – interest.

“Yeah and if you’re just here for polite words; then please jog on, we don’t need them” Benji replied, that only got a laugh from the old cyborg as he raised a hand;

“Oh please, when does anyone in the Federation speak with only pleasantries in mind” he paused to give the smallest toothy grin; it had the fur on Benji’s neck stand on end “though if you’re expecting charity you’ll be quite disappointed”.

A silence settled after that as Benji just looked into the man’s eyes; another mechanical piece, shiny an alive looking but staring into them they didn’t give the comfort of real eyes.

“Well if you’ve an offer; let’s hear it” surprisingly it was Johnny who spoke up. Amazingly not sounding overly enthused by the fact someone had come forward; though maybe the boy could sense the inherent bad feeling from cyborg.

He only grinned again “well you two are from a mining colony; what have you been finding?”

That only had Johnny and Benji sharing a flat glance between the two of them “just cut to the chase; we don’t need the B.S.”

He laughed “cut to the chase” he seemed to like that comment “fine… I want ownership of your colony; not part, nor percentages, all of it. You pay dues to me for as much as this venture costs as well as long term security costs; I know you’d wouldn’t want this happening again”

What a predictable offer Benji thought, though from where they were it could have been taken as quite generous, be the workers to some new leader rather than being subjugated by the CSS? Well it could go very wrong, there was plenty of land owning tyrants with next to nobody there to control them… Still, faced with the CSS it seemed like an option worth the risk.

“What can you provide?” Johnny questioned again, seemingly the more skeptical despite his initial hopes for help of any kind; maybe now he wanted to make sure this was all real… smart rabbit.

The cyborg just snickered, “well under this agreement I can offer a fair force; enough to knock back a minor incursion”

“What if it’s not enough” Benji called in this time, but his question was quickly laughed off.

“I doubt your situation is that bad…But” he leaned forward, this ominous feeling coming off the cyborg being this closes, it was in doing that Benji made note of the face he wasn’t or moved past the need to breath.

“As I was trying to say before; you’re from a mining colony” he paused waiting for the lepuses to nod along “well… Have you found anything interesting?”

The question seemed lost upon the two, but they were aware of the point this was not to do with mineral or ore deposits “what kind of interesting things?” Johnny questioned.

The cyborg smiled “artifacts, things of anomalous composition, material, etc – etc, big or small, native or foreign”

Benji and Johnny shared a slightly confused glance; this was something way above their pay grade and cyborg was quick to pick up on that, “now don’t go lying about such things; it will cost you if I put extra resource into something that doesn’t need it”, his voice lost all flavor of politeness or curtesy; a flat and deadpan statement of fact.

Benji just stared into the dead eyes while Johnny seemed to quickly flick through records on his mobile, “we, we – er had a GPR readings that detect interesting underground caverns; that could be something?” maybe Johnny believed that in being vague he could win the stronger commitment without actually ‘lying’.

The cyborg turned his head to face Johnny, this very small smile creeping onto his face again; he understood the trick but still seemed entertained by it.

“Very intriguing, not enough to justify a crusade but the effort has entertained me enough to throw an extra fighter into the battle; would be fun to crack a CSS fleet” though the cyborg paused as he looked between the rabbits “I mean as long as the two of you agree?”

…

Well, it wasn’t like they had a choice beyond letting home fall.