Lone Soldier - Part II

“Birthday hum?” Gunner said through a mouthful of potato chips, “Getting over the hill? What’ll it be?”

Merrill stiffened, though not noticeably. “Its not polite to ask a lady about her age.” She jested.

“As I recall, it is not polite to refuse a guests question.” Mia said, her eyes wide and innocent.

Merrill scowled. “Since when am I polite?”

“Were waiting…”

Scowling, Merrill muttered something inaudible.


“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Mia said sweetly.

Merrill glared at her. “I’ll be seventeen!!!!” She yelled. She regretted it instantly. The scars on her wrists burned in rememberance. Mia and Gunners jaws dropped.

“Seventeen? Just seventeen?” Mia asked dumbfounded. “Your only sixteen? How did you get into the army?”

Merrill scowled at the fire. “Faked I.D.” She muttered. Of course she couldn’t mention that the government had provided her with the faked I.D, under the circumstances. She could mention that they had also provided her with a certifacte of her death. She wondered breifly how much was there left to salvage in this world. Certainly not her life, or her identity. She had learned how worthless an identity was long ago.

“So your ILLEGAL? How come they couldn’t tell? How come they promoted you? You’re sixteen? Only sixteen?” Mia cried.

I want to die. Merrill thought miserably. I wish that I had died. An empty grave...

“You were only a little child when you joined up then! I can’t believe it…”

She felt Gunners hand on her shoulder. Not you too, she thought desperately, don’t you ridicule me too.

“Have you forgotten something?” Gunner begin, “We are all sitting in the Lieutenant’s camp and eating her food. Without her consideration we would all be a whole lot less comfortable right now. The war is finished. Does it really matter how old she is?”

Merrill couldn’t even look up. She was in misery. Why couldn’t she have lied and said that she was turning twenty-two like her papers said? Because she was to stupid, that’s why. Because she wanted to live again. What a diloustion.

“Sorry ma’am” came Mia’s subdued voice, “I was out of line.”

Gunner laughed. “You this that SHE’S something with her fake I.D.? There was this one guy in my regiment, and he fell out of the age requirements to. Well somewhere he had managed to procure papers saying that he was fifty some years old.”

Merrill snorted. “Yah right. Didn’t they realize that the guy was like, seventeen”

Gunner grinned. “Nope! He was eventually found out though, and his original birth certificate was found. He was seventy two!”

Every one laughed, except Frost who was staring monotonously into the fire.

“The old guys are the funniest.” Mia agreed. ‘We had one relic at the rehab center. He wouldn’t retire. Every time they dismissed him he just came back. The man was ancient! He had no teeth and sometimes he forgot his dentures. Gave the patients nightmares.” Everyone laughed again as the mood lightened. Everyone except Frost.

“You were a rehab medic?” Gunner asked

Mia nodded. “Yup. We got the half cured soldiers that where well enough to leave the hospital but not well enough to go back to the battlefield and patched them up again, you know rebuilding bone and muscle mass.”

“What about you?” Gunner asked

“Me?” Merrill relied, “I served mainly in sub space. They put me on the field for a few months in the beginning but my troops got massacred. It turned out that we were fed false information by a double agent and walked strait into a trap. A damn good one too. A well, I dunno what they’re called or anything but the people who went through picking up bodies discovered that I wasn’t dead. Spent a few weeks recovering, although my prides still wounded.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“After that, they put me in a cockpit of a fighter, and then most likely to their surprise, they discovered that I didn’t suck. So they continued sending me to sub space. I never really liked the standard cruisers so I got permission to design some of my own. I had a whole line out there, but they weren’t widely used.”

“Which line?” Merrill looked at the speaker in surprise. Frost had joined the conversation.

“You wouldn’t have heard of them.” she shrugged indifferently. “They were only used by me and some kind of so called elite soldier.” She looked at his face and quickly added, “Athena.”

“I’ve piloted all of those craft,” he said, his voice as static and sharp as normal. “In the last years of war, they were all that I used.”

Merrill’s heart leap. “Really?” she exclaimed, “How did you find them?”

“The Wisdom line was by far my preferred craft.” Frost stated, looking her directly in the eyes. “But it was less then a shuttle in the atmosphere. The engine could not handle the gravity. It was your best bet in sub space but you had better not have to escape to earth. Your Basic line was strong, I equipped all of my men with them. A little slow on the uptake, but practically unstoppable once they start going.”

Merrill was frantically going though her pockets for her notebook and pencil. When she finally retrieved it she jotted everything down.

“On all of your models, however, the controls, though accurate were very difficult for novice soldiers to operate.”

“Pwah!” She snorted. “Let the newbies learn on the standard crap!”

Frost looked at her with mild surprise. “My opinion exactly. You know, with a new engine and a little bit of work, your Wisdom line could be the most elite craft in her rank. Have you considered that?”

Merrill’s mouth dropped open. “No!” She gasped. That was entirely inconceivable. “You’re joking!” she cried before she realized that a man like him probably didn’t joke. She briefly wondered what exactly his background was, how someone so young had ended up in charge of the elite soldiers that had piloted her craft. And how he had come to be discahrage with nothing but a handful of broken rations and the clothes on his back.

“With a new design, it would outstrip all current models. The general mechanics and skin structure are very good. I’ve looked at the engine, and was thinking, that if you divided it into sub parts then maybe it would be more economical. It could be pressure activated for certain areas to work while in gravity and then become disabled in space.”

Merrill was in heaven. To meet a soldier who had piloted her ships was great, that he liked them even better but the winning hand was the fact that this guy knew his mechanics. She moved around the fire so she could hear him better over the fires crackling. “It has a sealed system, for space entry,’ she offered. “That’s its major weakness.” Her eyes searched over his clothing. All civilian, no crests, no ranks, no I.D. that she could see, and no name, at least not one that he was willing to give to her. And yet he knew her planes. She should be suspicious. He could be an escapee on trail for war crimes. Or worse. She found it odd however, that she didn’t believe that. Even if he was she didn’t worry. She was well armed and he was not. Not even the extra foot in height or the extra muscle mass was a match for a gun.

He took the pad from her hands and started drawing. “If you spliced these combustion chambers, some of the energy could transfer to a new section, used for atmospheric propulsion. It could have an intake valve, like………… well……… something like this.”

She moved closer, the flickering firelight was casting shadows, making it hard to see. “Wait! That makes it susceptible to enemy fire!”

His forehead creased. “Your right. We would have to move it deeper into the engine pit.” The pencil flew. “We would have to move it back but if it was hit it would instantly kill the pilot so that’s not advisable, out of the question, perhaps……...”

“Well, there’s a storage compartment a little higher up, we could use some of that space.”

“Yes! That’s the answer. Simply transfer this here to –“

“Ummm, HELLO?” Gunner called from across the flames, “Just to bring to your attention that the war is OVER! Do you read me? Come in please, over!” he waved his hand. “No need for supersonic people killers!”

Merrill looked up. “Yes, I know that Gunner. Could you spare me a little interest in my creations!” She said it a little sharper then she would have meant, and he looked startled.

“Fine!” He muttered to himself as Merrill and Frost went back to work. “It’s usual that no one cares about my opinion anyway!” He scowled at the fire.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh……… Don’t say that,” Mia cooed, who was sitting beside him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. An evil grin flashed across her face. “I care about your opinion!” She started to work herself into his lap.

“Whoa!” He cried in alarm, “No I’m fine, I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it! I swear, I’m really very secure and outgoing! I just wanted to make her feel bad! Agghhh!” He yelled as the stool folded under her added weight and they both tumbled to the ground. “A little help here? Hello? Hello? Frost! Lt Evens!”

She leaned across him, giggling madly. “A little help? I’m offering.”

Gunner started backpedaling across the ground. “No! Not you! Never you! Stay away! Stay away!”

Mia put on a look of hurt innocence. “Not me? Why ever not?” She leant forward and ran her fingers though his hair.

Gunner was transfixed in horror for a split second, and then he continued his yells. “Agh! Help! PARASITE! PARASITE! Help! Frost! Mmppphhh!” he gasped as his mouth was suddenly covered.

Merrill looked up from her engine plans. “Perhaps we should help him.”

Frost shook his head. “Negative ma’am. Once a parasite of that caliber is loosed, it immediately looks for something else to latch onto. I wouldn’t be in the immediate vicinity for anything.”

She smiled at the joke, and then realized that he was serious. She looked at Gunner, whose thrashing was beginning to lose energy, and realized that it probably would not be the nicest thing in the world to let him suffer. It would be funny though.

“I think that I’ll need back up.’ She said truthfully. “Hey Mia! Get the hell offa the poor guy!.” Mia ignored her. “Mia!”

“Give me your taser.” He said, setting the pad down.

She raised an eyebrow. Scare tactics didn’t usually work on medics. “Sure, just a – hey, how did you know I carried one?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been in the army for a long time. You pick things up.”

She looked questionably at him as she handed him the gun. “Lowest setting,” she ordered. She took a breath, and then strode around the campfire. “Mia Rye! Unhand that man at once!” Mia looked up startled at the order, but did not release her grip.

“What’s the harm in having a little fun?”

“Fun?” Merrill felt like throwing up, but contained herself. “Fun at the expense of others is not justified. Do you think that he’s enjoying this?”

Mia giggled. “Why wouldn’t he? I am.” Gunner had stopped struggling, perhaps because she was cutting off his air supply.

“Let go, Master Corperal Rye.”

She looked up coyly. “We’re not in the military remember, Merrill? You have no hold on me now. I’m not finished playing.”

There was a sudden surge of energy and Mia screamed, releasing her hold.

“Next time it’s a higher setting,” Frost said grimly. “More then a little static electricity. Let go of Gunner Rah.” Eyes large she got up and backed away, arms raised.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, really,” she said, suddenly a lot less ditzy.

“I should hit you again,” Frost said, his voice cool. “For your insubordination. The lieutenant asked you twice, she should not have had to ask at all.” He lowered the gun. “However, using force for punishment is not justifiable”

Merrill tore her gaze away from the drama to glance at Gunner, who was still lying prone on the ground, with his eyes shut. She fell to her knees beside him.

“Gunner.” She said, shaking him gently. “Come on, get up.” There was no response and worry started to boil up inside her. “Gunner, get up. Come on, get up!” Still no response. “Gunner!” she cried.

He grabbed her shoulders so fast she cried out. He went ridged; eyes open as far as they would go.

“Parasite… Sucked me dry… my life… gone…slowly leaving this world……… please… it hurts…so much.”

“Oh stow it!” she yelled, pushing him back down. He had
the nerve to grin. She scowled as relief attempted to bloom across her face. “Get up.”

“Yes ma’am!” he said with a grin, “Your wish is my command.” He hopped nimbly to his feet, rubbing his back. “Man, having to knock pebbles out of your skin is NOT a nice feeling.” He shivered.

Merrill suddenly felt very guilty. “Your still damp! Have you got anything to change into?”

“Nah. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“Well, no, you’re not. You’ll get pneumonia or something. Its gonna get below zero tonight.”

He grinned. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve been in a lot worse situations.”

She glared at him. “I’m sure everyone has, but that’s no excuse!” She wondered briefly why she cared so much about the well being of a stranger. “All of my uniform pieces are made for males – they stopped manufacturing female pieces along time ago, it was economical for them right? Girls could wear guy clothes. I have a few spares. We’re about the same size, height wise anyway, granted it will be a tight squeeze around the shoulders. Wait here.”

She darted into the tent and grabbed her rucksack, pulling out various items. She glanced down at the three quarter length gabardine she wore and wished they had issued officers more then one. She laid them out beside her bedroll and slid out of the tent flaps.

“In you go,” she gestured. Gunner grinned.

“Thanks.”

“No prob.” She retook her seat around the fire. Mia had rejoined them also, and was sitting a far as was physically possible away from Frost.

“So, It’s a guys issue?” she asked, plucking at Merrill’s sleeve. The light brown cuff held her two bands of rank. “That explains why some of the female soldiers that I’ve met always seems to get lost in their uniforms.”

Merrill grinned. “The belt is my best friend. It cinches everything in.” She picked up a chocolate bar and peeled off the wrapper.

“So you were a pilot?” she asked Frost, trying to draw the silent man back into conversation. “Did you specialize in anything else?”

“Infantry mainly. A little espionage, assassin, sniper. I was trained in a little bit of everything.”

“Assassin? Sniper? Those don’t sound like jobs with scruples, killing men in cold blood.” She shouldn’t have said it, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had never agreed with that part of war.

He fixed her with his piercing glare. “The men that I worked with had to get drunk to do it.” Her blood slowed a little and she wished that she had never asked. HE didn’t have to get drunk to do it. This man did those ungodly deeds in cold blood. “But I believed that if you were going to win a war using the cowards methods, then you should be sober when you killed them, heard their last breath, saw the look in there eyes, and realized that you had done the most horrible thing possible – killed a man that could not fight back – and live with those memories haunting you for the rest of your life.”

There was a silence. Merrill was horrified. “I’m sorry.” She said, but it came out as a mere whisper. “I’m so sorry, I had no right………” so that was the death that she saw in his eyes. Her face burned with shame and embarrassment.

“Don’t waste your sympathy.” He said, and his voice was a little lower. “There will always be others who need it more.”

She lowered her eyes and studied the ground in front of her. She glanced around for Gunner, who was taking his sweet ass time. The tent flap stayed immobile.
There was a crunch for boots behind her and Merrill looked up to see a young officer stride into camp. He stopped short of the campfire. Merrill rose to meet him, noticing that he was a Lieutenant like herself.

“No, don’t bother, Lieutenant,’ he said, “I’m just doing rounds for the city security. Everything seems in order, so I apologize for the disruption.” He saluted her, and she returned it crisply.

“I appreciate your intentions Lieutenant. Care to join our fire?”

He ginned and she could not help but think that she had seen him before. He removed his wedge and stepped into the firelight, running fingers through his spiky light brown hair.

“Don’t mind if I do, ma’am, don’t mind if I do.”

A sudden realization dawned on her and she grinned. “Come take a seat then, Lieutenant Gunner Rah!”

Everyone laughed as he took his seat, his tan officers uniform transforming him completely.

“Your right about the shoulders,” he said, motioning to were the fabric strained, “But I’m sure a whole lot warmer. Who would have thought? Lieutenant Rah!”

Merrill laughed as he settled back in.

Mia was watching Frost with knitted brows. She bounces back easily, Merrill sighed. Nothing can get her down for long.

“Were you in Rehab?” she asked suddenly, as he reached for something. She was more subdued then usual, the taser still on her mind.

He looked at her. “No.” He said sharply.

She looked down, abashed. “It’s not such a strange questions,” she defended herself. “You’ve been favoring your right side this entire time. Were you wounded?”

He looked at her strangely. “Old war wounds are not worth the breath that is used to talk about them.”

It took a lot more then that to deter Master Corperal Rye.

“When did you get it? It’s obvious that it still pains you.”

He looked at her, and then decided that to humor the girl would be the best choice. “Battle of the Forks.”

Merrill suddenly became a whole lot more interested. The battle of the Forks had been the battle that finished everything. The last battle. It had been only a dew weeks since then.

“Did you have it looked at?” Mia pressed, determined to have her answer. He was silent and seemed to be trying to ignore her.

“Did you get it treated?” she pressed.

He scowled. “Why bother. It was only a scratch.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Just a scratch, huh?” She got up and walked casually around the fire towards him. she twirled a twig in her fingers. Merrill could see her as an ex varsity cheerleader. “Just a scratch? I know my symptoms.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and he flinched slightly. Merrill couldn’t blame him. “If it is just a scratch then explain this!”

She drove her fingers into his side faster then was humanly possible. He cringed in pain, grabbing her wrist and twisting it away from him.

“Owwwwwwwww!!!!” she yelled, “That hurts!” He released her hand with a glare. “You didn’t have to do that!” She glanced at her hand and then realized that her fingers were covered in blood.

“Hey!” Gunner cried, “You didn’t have to be that rough! Can you move them?” he asked Mia.

“No,” Mia gasped. “No, it’s not my fingers, it’s not my blood.” She lifted her hand to her face and watched the blood run down her fingers. The color was draining from her face and was being replace by a sickly green. “Didn’t you tell me that this would was well over a week old?” She glance down at the damp spot on Frosts black T- shirt. “You didn’t get it treated?”

She held her hand away from her as the blood began to drip.

“Here,” Merrill tossed Mia the cloth that she had used to take the pot form the fire. “Wipe your hands on this.” She rounded on Gunner. “How come you never told me that your friend was hurt?”

He backed up, spluttering, green eyes wide. “He never told me! How was I supposed to know?”

She scowled and turned to Frost. “Here. Let Mia have a look. She’s the medic.”

“Oh no!” Mia cried, dropping the cloth. “I worked in rehab, not E.R.! I’m not trained in that field!”

“Still, you’re more trained then any of us, unless you happen to be a doctor,” she asked Gunner. He looked at her strangely and shook his head. “See?” she cried, “Come on. I have a first aid kit in the car, I’ll go get –“

“I’ll go get it!” Mia cried, and raced away.

Merrill stared after her in bewilderment. “A nurse who is afraid of blood,” she mused. “Imagine that.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone being afraid of blood,” Gunner said, speaking as if Mia had a fear of breathing, “An odd phobia really.”

“Not as odd as you think.” She smiled. “I had to get over my dislike of it when I joined up. Here.” She beckoned to Frost. “Get into the M.O.D, its getting cold.” She pulled the flaps back and let them climb in. “Mia! Did you find it? Come on!”

There was a crunching of footsteps and the first aid kit was thrust in her face. “Here.” Mia whispered. “I’ll go boil some water.”

“Boil some water?” Merrill grinned. “Oh don’t worry, I understand.” Mia looked grateful. “Just stay close, aright? I might need some help.”

Mia smiled weakly. “Thanks Lieutenant.”

Merrill slid a small flashlight from her coat pocket. “For the record,” she whispered. “I hated blood to.” She then disappeared into the tent.



Gunner looked around in bewilderment at the canvas walls of the lieutenants lodging. Things were going much to quickly for him, both physically and mentally. He wondered if these two woman were samples of normal society. In the space of an hour he had been fed, clothed and lodged. He had been treated like - well, he supposed like a free man should be. Briefly he wondered how he was going to pay for it all. "Frost?"

"Hmmm?"

"How are we going to pay her back? We have nothing."

"The standardized way."

Gunner cringed, unnoticed in the dark if the tent. "Lashes?"

"Umhumm."

"Uh, Frost, I think that this officer is different from our officers." Gunner stammered, and he didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or not, "I mean, I don't think that she carries a whip. I don’t think that she was ever even issued one. And - and anyway, I think that lashes are only for Specials - I don’t think that free men pay for stuff that way." He pushed down memories of small kids screaming, being stood over by an officer brandishing a whip. “I think that's over now,” he whispered. “We’re free men now.” He looked at Frosts dark silhouette. “Free men right?”

Firelight spilled into the tent as the flap was pushed aside. Merrill’s silhouette crawled in and switched on the lanterns, illuminating the inside. It was quite large, a tent for an officer, made to hold things like a desk.

"All right!" she smiled. Gunner flinched. He didn’t like it when officers smiled. "Lets see this wound."

Frost didn’t look at her as she sat down cross legged beside them. Please let him act like a freeman, Gunner thought. Please let him accept. "I'm fine ma’am." Frost said. Gunner bit the inside of his lip in frustration. "I don’t need any help."

Gunner watched as the woman's eyes narrowed and her face flushed. Gunner noticed the dangerous gleam in her eyes that so many officers had. How dangerous he had yet to find out. "Too good for my help, Mr. High and Mighty? Well, I don't see why I was concerned with you in the first place. I know little enough about you as it is." Her voice was light and skipping, but Gunner knew how to recognize the iron behind it.

Frost still did not look at her. "Don't filthy your hands with the problems of an individual that is not worth the notice of people of your rank ma’am." Shit! Gunner thought. He looked at the Lt - Merrill, with caution. Could she tell? Was it over?

Merrill recoiled as if struck. Her jaw dropped open and color began to rise in her cheeks. Her complexion was naturally very white - so white that he had wondered if she had been recently very ill - but now high points of color were rising in her cheeks, her face flushed. The dangerous sparkle in her eyes disappeared replaced by only eyes filled with confusion ... and something else. "What the Hell?!"

"I am not worthy of your time , ma'am"

There was a stinging smack as she slapped him as hard as she could. Color bloomed across his face in a shape of a hand. Astonished, Gunner looked at Merrill who was very flushed, and looked on the verge of tears. Her hands were shaking and she tried to restrain them.

"Don't you EVER say that again, you miserable person!" she yelled, "never say that again!" Her hand rose to slap him again, but she stilled it. "NEVER!" She was extremely distraught, and Gunner could not see why. Frost simply had the general specials attitude - that his life was worthless. After being released, that had been the first thing that Gunner had scrapped. Or at least tried to. It was hard to flush an attitude that had been steamrollered into you from childhood. "NEVER say that to me ever again!"

The special looked up, shocked. "My apologies Ma'am. I did not mean to discomfort you."

"Discomfort!" she spat at him. "HA!" She was silent, and dropped her hand. Her face was still flushed, but it did not seem with anger. "I'm sorry." She whispered. Her hands still shook. "You could not know. You could never know."

Gunner regarded the officer with confusion and worry. Not only had they managed to offend and upset the woman who was supplying them with rations and quarters, they had angered an officer. His mind raced. Free man. He was a free man now... What would a free man do??? Gunner gingerly put a hand on her ranked shoulder in sympathy. "The war took many good people. All of us lost something." It was a wild guess, but it seemed to hit home. She nodded and gave a watery smile. Her eyes remained empty however, like she had removed the emotion from them. "Now," she said firmly. "Lets see that wound."

Frost removed his shirt with his left arm and placed it beside him quietly. It seemed that the fight had gone out of him. His sculpted, lean frame was covered in scars and partially healed wounds and bruises. She looked down at his right side and grimaced. Gunner couldn't blame her. Two deep, ugly gashes displayed themselves across his waist. They were unwashed, infected, bleeding and oozing pus. Burns and patches of torn ravaged flesh decorated his chest and his back. Gunner watched as Merrill's face started to go green.

"How did you get this?" she asked, averting her eyes.

"The plane I was piloting was shot down. I was forced to do a partial ejection when the fuel tank exploded." He spoke blandly as usual, with no expression, as if talking about a walk to the park. "I don't understand why it hasn’t healed ma'am. I removed all of the shrapnel."

Merrill pressed a hand to her lips and her throat worked. "Mia!" she called through the tent. Gunner jerked in surprise. For her size this officer had quite a drill voice on her. "We're gonna need that hot water in here right away!" She jumped as a hand thrust a pot through the tent flaps and grinned. "Thanks!"

Gunner watched as she opened a box labeled first aid, and removed a rough cloth. "This is gonna hurt," she promised. "A lot." She dipped the cloth into the water and began her work, none to gently. Frost closed his eyes and bit his lip. He was already shaking from exhaustion and malnourishment. Gunner smirked as he listened to Merrill mutter about how men neglected themselves. There was little other sound but the dipping of the cloth. Sweat rolled down Frosts temples.

"Now, if you had taken care of this when it had happened, it wouldn’t hurt so much!” she snapped. “Men!" she muttered angrily. "Not eating for five days, not taking care of yourself!" She dabbed harder at a tough spot, and his head pitched back. She caught him and rested his head on her shoulder, working around him. "Trying to pass out on me hummm? Well fine, now you can, now that you won't crack your skull open" Gunner admired her briskness, as much as he marveled at her mood swings.

Her face was just as green, even greener, as she addressed Gunner. "See that little case over there? No, the one beside - yah that’s the one, pass it over here will you?"

It appeared to be a sewing kit. "Humm", she muttered to herself as she untied it. "I can’t believe I'm out of thread! It's even out of that wire stuff." Gunner was getting a bad feeling about this. She selected a small ball of yarn. "Damn. Oh well, this will have to do!" She unwound some around her hand. "Pass me a needle Gunner? No, a larger one, this crap won't fit thorough that little thing. No bigger, bigger, see the darning one in the side pouch, I think we'll have to use that."

He handed her the darning needle in apprehension and she slid the yarn though. "What's that for?"

She broke the yarn with her teeth and spat out the fuzz. "Blech. Wounds like these need stitches, or they'll never heal."

"Stitches!" Gunner cried "With that! That’s like darning humans! He’s not a sock! That’s disgusting!"

Merrill gave a weak grin. "Yah, but it works. I've done it on myself on numerous occasions."

"Ewwwwwww..." he cried and melodramatically keeled over.

She laughed and loped a knot in the end of the yarn. "This'll hurt like shit." She said honestly, taking her mark and beginning to sew. "But honestly, If you had only bandaged it when you got it, I wouldn't have to do this..." the needle flashed and his body tensed, muscles seizing. "I TOLD you this would hurt."

Without warning his body went limp and he fell against her, almost knocking her off balance. "He passed out," she remarked almost conversationally to Gunner. He nodded uneasily. To have a 1st class special pass out, even a starved, wounded and weakened one, meant that her medical ‘aid’ must have hurt alot.

She cradled his head in her left hand, pulling his limp body in towards her, trying to prevent him from slipping. “Its the best for him, I suppose. He can’t feel the pain now,” she shook her head. “Pansy.” she muttered under her breath. With difficulty Gunner swallowed his words. He tried not to look at the needle flashing silver in the lamplight. MENDING humans? Disgusting.

Merrill finished her work and, wiping the needle clean on her pants, slid it back into its sack. She looked down at Frosts face on her shoulder and smiled as she wound long white badges around his waist.

“Did he fake his ID too?” she asked quietly. “He can’t be any older then me.” Gunner shifted uneasily. Specials stated their career as soldiers in the field at 10...

“I don’t know, really. I - I never asked.”

She laughed. “Not the easiest person to get along with, hey?”

He grinned. “You got that right.”

She wiped the sweat from his face with the now cooled water, and laid him down. In alarm, Gunner watched what little color she had drain from her face, even the green tinge escaping her complexion. The cause of her horror could not have been more founded.

She had brushed his bangs back and was staring in fixated horror at an engraved tattoo on his right temple near the hairline. 4AXXX. Gunner had one there too, that's why he wore a headdress, or his face a little dirty, dirty enough to cover the marks, and why Frost wore bangs. She snatched her hands back and looked it him in terror. “He’s a ... He’s a ... a ... a....”

“A special” he finished with resignation. “A 1st Class special with no name no home no friends and no one who wants to have anything to do with him. A horror, a living weapon, a child soldier trained from birth in combat. Yes” he said bitterly,
“A special. The governments prized experiment. He is defenseless. Strike him down now, with your fear, if you wish, while you can.” He pulled back his hair, revealing his tattoo. “Strike us both down. I won’t stop you.”

She looked in terrified horror at him, transfixed. He could not even imagine the thoughts that ran though her head. The instant stretched on, unbroken. Finally she broke her gaze and pulled a blanket over Frost

“I do not betray those that my heart has deemed my friends.” She replied, fixing him with a piercing stare, reminiscent of Frosts. The gleam was still in her eyes, dancing, dangerous, waiting for him.

With a grin, he remembered to breath again.



Merrill listened to the steady breathing of her companions sleep. Buried deep inside her issued sleeping bag she was warm and comfortable but far from rest.

She was laying in a small confined space with two special soldiers. She was tired but her conscious kept her awake, reminding her that if she dozed off, she might be helped into eternal sleep by a knife in her heart.

It was bullshit, she knew, but she couldn’t help thinking it.

A thousand images of a small red haired girl, paraded through her mind, refusing her sleep. the fateful words that Frost had spoken had unleashed them again, and there was no putting them away until they were through. She closed her eyes and let the memories take her.

“Lt Evens, Meet the newest member of your regiment,” a mans voice said, bringing forth a small red headed female. “7AXXX. This is your new superior.” The girl stepped forward, her red uniform bright and clean, alien against the dark battlefield. “You will protect her with your life.”

“Yes Sir.” she said monotonously, yet crisptly. “I will carry out my duties to the best of my ablities and further.” she stepped forward and saluted her. “Ma’am.” The memory ended and was replaced by another.



“Damn! Its a Trap!” Merrill heard herself yell, “Retreat!” she shot a few rounds into the melee and a few enemies fell. There was nowhere to retreat to, she realized and changed her orders. “As you were! Hold your ground! We go down with honor!” Bullets and shrapnel whizzed by her and she ducked, pressing the trigger and spraying bullets.

The special was a red blur that dealt death where she walked. She had disdained the group and went at the enemy like a one woman army, and she was gaining ground. Solar Nation arms men fell like flies at her feet. It was sickening and exhilarating to watch at the same time. A blast form an explosion knocked Merrill from her feet.

She lay there breathing heavily, her face pressed to the muddy ground. Cautious she got up from her prone position, and found herself staring at two red clad legs. She pushed herself the entire way up and looked into the girls flat emotionless gray eyes. How she had gotten there so quickly was beyond her, but she was a special - self explanatory

“Are you all right ma’am?” the girl asked. Merrill smiled weakly,

“I’m fine 7A. You know you could probably break through the lines and escape. You’re fast and tough enough.”

The girl was silent. “I could not take the troops with me,” she said finally “and I am sworn to protect you.”

“Sworn to protect me!? Good Lord what is that supposed to mean?!” The girl locked her gaze.

“Life is cheap ma’am but some lives come cheaper them others. The worthless ones must protect those that are worth something so that they can continue their work. My life is worth nothing except to ensure that yours continues.”

Merrill's mouth tightened, but she knew better then to argue with the girl. She would not see reason if it was dropped on her head. “I do not need to tell you what is happening. You have been trained for longer then I have. Stay and you will be slain along with the rest of us. Go, run, and get help and perhaps some shall survive. Leave. That is an order.”

The girl fixed her with a flat stare. “Yes ma’am.” She saluted and walked away.

Merrill watched the girl go as a series of explosions went off meters away from her. The girl whipped around in a cloud of red hair and dove for her, knocking Merrill to the ground. The heat seared her skin and shrapnel cut her face. “7A!” she cried, lifting the girls prone figure. Her face ws covered in blood and Merrill could not even look at the wreck her body was. That blast had been for her, the officer, not 7A.

The girls eyes were glassy as she fixed them on Merrill's. “Duty fulfiled ma’am. My apologies that I could not save myself as well.” Merrill choked unable to speak, paralyzed at the waste of human life. “Thats it for me,” the girl coughed. “Watch your back... sorry that I failed in being able to watch over you.” Her eyes glazed over and she went limp in Merrill's arms. Tears streamed down her face as she held the girl, noticing that the child had died with a smile on her lips.



Merrill, shuddered as the memories ended and let a fretful sleep take her.

It seemed as though only seconds had passed when sunlight woke her from her sleep. The specials were talking, or at least Gunner was. She kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep.

“Frost! Frost!” he seemed to be trying to wake the other up. “4A!” Frost came awake immediately, she knew because she heard his voice.

“What’s your problem?”

“Come on, get up, we’re leaving now.”

Merrill pricked her ears up, hardly daring to breathe,
listening.

“Why?” Frost demanded. “What's wrong?”

There was a pause, them Gunner whispered. “She found out.”

“How?”

“Your tattoo.”

“Oh. Is that all?” Frost seemed unconcerned.

“What do you mean is that all,” Gunner spazed. “Were leaving before she puts a knife in our backs! She won’t trust us anymore. No one trusts us!”

“No.”

“What!”

“No. If she had wanted to kill us she would have done it when we were asleep. I don’t care if she trusts me and I’m not leaving with out paying.” Frosts voice was, as usual, emotionless.

“Pay?” How many times do I have to tell you, we have no money!” Merrill could imagine the look on his face. “And give me one reason why she doesn’t want to kill us.”

“Give me one reason why she would want to kill us,” Frost said them continued before Gunner could say anything. “We had nowhere to go anyway. To leave would be foolish.”

Merrill decided it was time for her to start waking up. She groaned and shifted, opening her eyes. “Oh my good its cold. I think I’ll just stay here.” she looked in apparent surprise at Gunner and Frost. She had instantaneously resolved that she would treat them exactly the same. “You’re up already, how come you didn’t wake me up?”

“We figured that waking you from your dreams of sandy beaches and civilian men would be detremental to our health,” Gunner quipped before realizing in horror what he said. “Sorry ma’am.”