Chapter 9

1600

"I expect a full after-action report by tomorrow 1800. Helianthus, out." Her last words before she winked out. 

The glass clinked against the desk. Bottle rang hollow, burning in the throat. Sporadic radio statics broke the monotony of turbine hums. Red blips drifted aimlessly on the tactical map. Skorpion by the left wall, drinking her coffee. M4A1 was absent. She wasn't due for the debrief for another half hour. 

"Take care of the Command Room while I am gone."

Skorpion threw an informal salute, before resuming drinking her coffee. She had emptied another three thermoses since she returned. 

"Are MRE's this unpalatable?" 

She nodded vigorously. "Very. They taste like flour mixed with glue."

"...I see. Don't drink too much. You won't be able to sleep."

"Wasn't planning to!" she declared, very sincerely. 

"No drinking after 1630."

"Awwww…" her twin pigtails seemingly drooped. 

The true leg groaned — a throb with every step. Radiant sunlight stung the eyes, dry wind carrying an anaesthetic odour. 

Desolation in the hall. Stefan and Oleksiy were gone, only the lingering anaesthetic stench as a reminder of their presence. Springfield absent, only Sten and FNC at the counter. HK416 silently chewed on her pastry, with P7 creeping up on her. MG5 at the far corner, beside MG4. She laid her hand on her sibling's shoulder and offered some words of consolation. MG4 ignored her, preferring to stare silently at her thighs. 

M14 sat under the same row of benches, hugging her knees. She had made herself smaller, as though hoping to avoid notice. A dog-tag glimmered dully in her grasp. "Please stay away," she said upon sensing my approach. She averted her gaze. "We don't want any more people getting hurt."

"I'm sorry." She continued to stare at the dog-tag. "For Oleksiy and Stefan."

"Mmmhmmm," she shook her head. "Things like these happen sometimes."

"I see…"

A crash behind me, followed by a distinct laugh. P7's. 

"Hey, Commander," she said suddenly. "Will Stefan come back?" 

"What did Mikhail say?"

"He said...Stefan won't be with us for three months and…" she hugged her knees tighter. "He might not come back again." 

"...Tell him this, then." 

P7 yelped. Stamping feet. HK416's angry voice. 

"Tell him...you will finish Oliver Twist and you will only return it to him upon his return."

Her sad frown turned into a mournful smile. "We will." She kept averting her eyes. 

Inhaled. Exhaled. Headed towards the counter. 

"...but Springfield's instruction was very clear. Only one brownie per meal."

"Ehhhhh? Sten, I deserve three extra brownies! I missed the breakfast brownie and the lunch brownie and..."

"Commander!" Sten stood in rapt attention. FNC immediately fell silent. Sten drifted to my side of the counter. She was wearing a warm smile. "How can I help you? We have brownies, cinnamon rolls and…"

"I wish to use the kitchen."

She blinked. "Pardon?" 

"I wish to use the kitchen," I repeated. 

She blinked again. "Ah, okay." 

"Commander~der~der," FNC uttered, repeating the last syllable like a castanet. She had rested her chin on the table. She was wearing a small, smug smile. "I helped take out Executioner, didn't I? Get me a brownie~." 

"FNC…" Frustration leaked from Sten's smile.

"Ah, there you are." FN49 walked up to the kitchen counter. Her hair was damp and tangled, as though she had just gotten out of the shower. "Come on. Don't disturb Sten just because Miss Springfield is away." She seized FNC by her armpits. FNC thrashed about as FN49 dragged her away. "But FN49, my brownie~." 

As soon as they left the premise, Sten twirled towards me with a slight sway, "So, Commander, what are you making?" 

"Tea. For the guest."

"Guest as in M4?" Sten tilted her head, curious brown eyes glittered. I nodded. She beamed. "Ah. Come this way. I think she kept the tea in…" 

Jars on the rightmost long table, furthest from the two stoves and ovens, labelled with neat handwriting. Chamomile, Earl Grey, Jasmine…

"Ah, those are the ones!" She fussed as she picked up and inspected one of them, "What did Springfield say about tea again?" 

Jar popped open. It's proximity engulfed in a fresh peppermint scent. China teapot in the middle of the table. Opened its lid, inserted a handful of leaves, brought it to a water dispenser. Steam poured out of its mouth as water flowed into the pot. 

"Sten, a tray, please."

"Stop!" 

Springfield at the counter. Her clothes looked newly pressed, not a cut, nary a speck of dirt. She passed the desk, snatched the teapot and threw out its contents into a barrel. There was no comfort in her smile. "You cannot serve peppermint tea without first crushing the leaves," she said as she washed the teapot and returned it to the table. 

"Sten, the mortar and pestle, please." 

Sten blinked, then hurriedly searched about for the requested apparatuses. "Found it," she said. The mortar landed on the table with a dull bang. "How many persons?" Springfield asked, still with the mask-like smile. "Three," I replied. Without any further words, she fished out thirty leaves from the jar with a pair of tongs and dropped them in a filter. 

"Seven to ten leaves per person." She said, as though reading off a script. She washed the leaves with water from a cold kettle. Not a glance spared for Sten or me. She then filled the mortar with the leaves and, with nary a word, crushed them lightly. 

No comments made about the intensifying peppermint scent. Sten wore an expression of discomfort as she watched Springfield fill the teapot with crushed leaves and hot water. "Steep for seven minutes." She turned an hourglass and placed it in the tray, together with the pot and three china cups. 

Springfield turned to other tasks without further comments. Nothing said about my earlier performance, no curious questions posed. Sten circled Springfield, retrieved a smaller ceramic pot, then hurriedly pitter-pattered to my side of the kitchen. She placed the container on the tray and smiled sweetly. "Can't forget the honey. To sweeten the tea." 

She then looked at Springfield, who had gone to inspect a crate. "Miss Springfield, I'm helping to take the tea to the Command Room." Springfield gave no replies. 

"I can carry the tray myself."

"I can't let you do that, Commander," replied Sten with a scowl. "You are limping!" She glanced at Springfield again, leaned forward and pleaded with a hushed, urgent tone, "Please, Commander." 

Exhaled and nodded. Sten smiled appreciatively. 

The moment we departed from the kitchen, Sten whispered, "I think Springfield's in a bad mood. I've never seen her like this before."

"When did this start?"

"I don't know, though she's been awfully quiet since the end of the battle."

"...What did she look like then?"

Sten lagged, having slowed her pace. Suddenly startled, she lengthened her stride to keep up. As we crossed the iron gate, she said, "Her skirt was covered in blood, and her eyes... there's something strange about the way she looked. I think...I think this was about Southern Checkpoint."

"...I see." 

The turbine buffeted us as we approached the second iron gate, though our steps remained steady. An azure glow welcomed us as we crossed the threshold. On the opposite end of the tactical map, M4A1 waited.

Skorpion leaned forward from her chair. "Cetin! You are three minutes late!" she announced aloud.

"Evening, Skorpion." Sten sighed. She then beamed as she inquired, "Where do you want this, Commander?" Pointed at the desk just behind M4A1. She nodded, hurriedly completed her task, then bowed slightly. She tilted her head slightly to her right and smiled. "Enjoy the tea." She then hurried out of the Command Room.

Skorpion sniffed at the air as the tea was poured into china cups. "Oho…" Skorpion uttered. "Is that peppermint tea?" 

"Sweetened? Unsweetened?" 

"Sweet, please," replied Skorpion enthusiastically. One scoop of honey stirred into her cup. She received the cup and skipped back to her seat, without spilling a drop.

"You?" The question was posed to M4A1. She blinked and pointed at herself, her expression that of disbelief.

"Yes, you."

She gazed at the teapot, or rather, the steam rising from its mouth. 

The radio crackled. Red blips continued to drift about aimlessly. 

She replied hesitantly, "...Sweet?" 

"Is that a question or an answer?" 

"Ah, Sarge!" Skorpion waved. HK416 silently nodded at her. She folded her arms and leaned against the side of the iron gate. She then directed her stern gaze towards M4A1. "Question? Or answer?" she asked again, harshly.

M4A1 stammered, with a hint of a squeak, "Swe...sweet!" 

"Cetin," Skorpion queried, "is the tea for three or four?"

Seven to ten leaves per person. Twenty-eight leaves minimum per person. Springfield had used thirty leaves. 

"Three to four." Tray transferred to the edge of the tactical map. "HK416 can help herself to the tea."

"I'm fine," HK416 replied with a stiff nod.

"Oi, Cetin," Skorpion glared. "What did I say about names being too mouthful? Just call her 416, or Sarge!"

"Commander," M4A1 interjected. "I thought I'm here for a debrief?"

"Yes." 

She glanced at the steaming teacup. "Maybe I shouldn't…"

"You will need the tea." Picked up the unsweetened cup, felt its weight pulling on the right shoulder. Steel chair dragged up. "Sit." 

Skorpion had started drinking her tea. M4 hadn't. She stared at her cup, glanced at Skorpion, then at 416, then back at her cup. 

Another burst of statics. A cluster of wandering red blips winked out. The blue blips responsible moved on to another waypoint. FAL did not report in. 

416 continued to stare at M4. Her expression was impassive. 

The peppermint aroma rose into my nostrils as the cooling liquid washed over parched tongue and throat. 

M4, with some hesitation, decided to drink her tea.

This was the same M4 who had coldly executed a Ringleader, and the same one who eliminated Agent. 

Teacup clinked against the tray. 

"Skorpion." 

The T-Doll coughed, spilling her beverage onto her yellow shirt and black shorts. "Bwah?" she cried. Her single eye was wide with surprise. "Recount to me the 'Battle for Safehouse 3'. Starting from how you came into contact with M4 and the events leading to the battle." 

Skorpion scoffed, "Oh, now you want to know about my heroism." She set her cup onto its tray and cleared her throat. "Alright, so, this was a week ago. My team was camping out in the woods. Sturmgewehr was on sentry duty while Papasha and I were preparing our breakfast. Ingram did not join us. She was trying to start a fire instead. Normally that would be my job, but Ingram won't skin the squirrel we caught for our breakfast. So!" Skorpion slapped her chest. "Anyway, just as we were about to quarter the squirrel, we detected Grifon signals about two kilometres north-west from camp." 

"This is your team, isn't it, M4?" 

M4, teacup hanging in her grasp, blinked. She then looked at me and nodded. "...Yes. That was us." 

"Is it around this time you assumed command over Skorpion's team?" 

"She didn't," Skorpion said. "Wanted to break camp right then and there and go straight for them but Sturmgewehr said 'no'. She thought it might be a trap. Said we should wait for them to hail us. You know...because Grifon dolls can detect us if we can detect them."

"When did you join M4's team in Safehouse 3?"

"Two and a half hours later," Skorpion replied. "M4's team contacted us two hours after breakfast and assumed command."

"Why did you not command Skorpion's team sooner, M4?"

M4 blinked again. "It…" she started slowly, like an old engine warming up after years of abandonment, "...it was a covert mission. We had to keep our team small and...we weren't equipped to support another echelon…" 

She lowered her eyes and pursed her lips. 

"...You contacted Team Skorpion only when it was necessary for the defence of Safehouse 3."

M4 nodded again.

Skorpion continued, "As soon as we heard from M4, we immediately emptied our stockpiles and went to join her. Saw lots of wreckage around…"

"...Stockpiles?" 

"We were stranded for a year." Skorpion sipped her tea. "We had a lot of time. Found ourselves a cave to hide in and spent that year repeatedly sneaking into the old command post to reclaim some supplies and..." She gulped down the remainder of her beverage. "Anyway!" she got up from her seat and strode to the teapot on the tactical map. "We snuck towards their coordinate..."

"That being Safehouse 3," 416 stated.

"Yup! Safehouse 3." Skorpion filled her cup. "Quite a big place, actually. Bigger than any warehouses I had seen. Almost looked like a factory, in fact." She then returned to her chair. 

"Not all safehouses are warehouses," 416 noted.

Skorpion tilted her head. "I thought they all are?" 

"...Maybe in movies…" 

"Mmmm...Anyway!" Skorpion continued. "We avoided going to that place to look for supplies because it was always crawling with Sangvis. I think we even saw Scarecrow there a month ago." 

M4 lowered her eyes, deep in thought. 

"So, we got there using the old paths and found M4's teammates already cleaning up a wave." Skorpion drank her tea. "This is really good, by the way. Sten made this?" 

"Springfield."

"Ahhh…" Skorpion uttered. "Thought it was Sten." She took another sip and set the cup on the tray. "They were really cool, you know. One member at each of the three entry points and each of them took down about three times their number. They don't even have dummies! You should have seen Ingram's face at the time." 

"Only three?"

"I was...in the Safehouse," M4 said. "Supervising the data download and...coordinating the defence." 

"Skorpion, were there any Sangvis bodies inside the Safehouse premise?"

"Now that you mentioned it…" Skorpion crossed her legs and rubbed her chin. "...All the bodies were around the perimeter. It didn't look like there's any fighting inside. Never saw even a single bullet casing." 

"How was the enemy presence in subsector 4? Where were they concentrated at?" 

Skorpion, still deep in thought, recalled, "Our cave was to the east of the old command post. The road there was patrolled by two Dragoon echelons. The road further west, right after the bridge and passing by the command post, was just loaded with Sangvis. We never use that road. Safehouse 3 was further north from our cave. We can get there as long as we follow the forest and the cliff. No patrols there."

"No enemy presence in the command post?" 

"Nope!" Skorpion shook her head. "Sangvis left the place mostly untouched after they cleared the place out. Even left the bodies right where they…" she fell silent for a moment. "They only occupied the hill to the west of the road and Safehouse 3."

She perked up, "Ah, I remember! All patrols in the area moved north the night before M4 contacted us." 

"...We encountered minimal resistance on the way to Safehouse 3…" M4 noted. "Does that mean…?"

"They knew you were coming," 416 replied coolly. "They pulled back to set up a trap."

M4 pursed her lips and fell silent. 

"Where and when did you first encounter resistance?" 

M4 snapped from her pensiveness. "We fought a patrol in at a mountain pass just north of here...two weeks ago?"

"How many times did you engage the enemy?"

"I think...twenty times and...we took a communications outpost along the way?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" 416 goaded.

M4 knitted her brow. 416 smirked upon hearing her more resolute reply. "Answer." 

"The Sangvis had dedicated much effort and manpower to this...trap of theirs." The tea had gotten cold. "They had even dedicated a sizeable garrison there in the months prior. Why is this so? What are the Sangvis looking for in Safehouse 3, which they couldn't acquire until your arrival?"

M4 knitted her brow again. Her teacup was untouched since the first sip. "I'm not sure if I should...it is confidential…" she replied hesitantly. 

A sigh. Cold china upon my lips. Peppermint-scented liquid washed down my throat. "The sugar cubes. Based on the upload time on both, I can conclude each contains tremendous amounts of data…"

"I had split the data into two cubes to secure them from the Sangvis…" M4 stated. "They are just half capacity when I hid them. They are split in such a way if the Sangvis managed to find one of them, the data they recover is scrambled and unusable."

"You had taken great lengths to keep this data away from the Sangvis." The lungs strained, the throat rumbled. "What is this data?"

"I...I don't know!" M4 insisted. "I only know it is very important to Miss Persica, and I was given instructions to secure it at all cost…"

Persica…

Her drone on the desk, lying inert in prism form.

"I see…"

"Hey, Sarge!" Skorpion said suddenly. 416 glanced at her but gave no replies. "This debrief has gone on for a while. Are you sure you don't want the tea?" 

"The tea has gotten cold," 416 replied, with nary a glance at her. 

"Your loss." Skorpion got up from her seat. She went and helped herself to another cup of tea.

"The Sangvis were unable to recover this data before your team came along. Why is this?"

"The...the Sangvis hardware is incompatible with the database interface." M4 paused, then continued. "I think...it was from the pre-war era. There were no compatible ports and…the only way to we can access it is with...a password typed in with a keyboard..."

"What is this password?"

M4 fidgeted. She replied hesitantly, "I'm not sure if I should…I mean Miss Persica didn't provide the password until after we reported in at Safehouse 3 and…"

"Then how did you download anything into the sugar cubes?" 

She turned her attention to Skorpion. Skorpion looked confused. She continued her query, "I mean, there are no compatible ports, right?" M4 lowered her eyes. After a moment of rumination, she replied, "...an adapter. Miss Persica provided to us an adapter."

"Did you scrub the database?"

M4 blinked again. 

"Did you scrub the database?" 416 repeated harshly.

M4 lowered her eyes. "N-No. I don't think I did. Agent broke in after I…"

"Agent." My gaze met Skorpion's. She tilted her head. "Want tea?" she asked. "I'm good." Returned to M4. "Skorpion described Agent's attack being like a battering ram…"

A loud china clatter, accompanied by splashing liquid. "I didn't say that!" Skorpion protested. "I said she just walked right through us!" 

"Like a battering ram. How did you defeat her?"

"I…" M4 averted her gaze. She brought her fingers to her neck. "I didn't. It was M16. She caught Agent with a surprise attack." 

"Ah! Sarge twitched!" Skorpion cried suddenly. 416's expression had darkened. 

"Do you know this M16, 416?" 

"Yes," 416 intoned frigidly. "But that isn't relevant to the discussion. Carry on." 

"Are you and M16 enemies?" Skorpion inquired. She was folding her arms; her head cocked to the opposite side. "There's bad blood between us," 416 intoned frigidly. "Drop it."

M4 narrowed her eyes at 416. "I don't think M16 mentioned this before."

416 turned her cold gaze towards M4. "Did you even ask her about me?" 

"...No. I didn't know about you, so…"

"Hey, Sarge!" Skorpion said aloud. She was frowning. "What did M16 do to you?"

"I said, drop it!" 416 snapped in reply. "None of your business!"

"Wow," Skorpion responded dully. "You’re even angrier than usual, Sarge." 

"Skorpion." Rumbling in the throat. She perked up. The azure hue on her face took on a darker shade. She blinked. Tapped the teapot. "Help refill this teapot. Please." 

Skorpion blinked again, then pouted as she got up from her seat. "...Yeees," she whined as she moseyed towards the tactical map. She snatched the teapot, made for the exit, then stopped. She looked at 416, then M4 and myself, before huffily ascended the steps. 

Her fading footsteps drowned by further interrogations. "After you have completed the data download, you escaped Safehouse 3. You left Skorpion's team to cover the rear. When it was clear this measure wasn't sufficient, you left your team behind…"

"I didn't mean to leave anyone behind…" M4 muttered. "I wanted to bring everyone along but…"

A scorching in my veins. "The fact of the matter is you did desert them to save yourselves and your teammates. When that proved insufficient…"

"I didn't mean to leave anyone behind!" M4 insisted. "If I could take them along..."

Fists clenched. Voice coursed like arid breeze, "Then why didn't you?" 

Her cheeks flushed. "Because...because…" Her voice softened. She glanced about, searchingly. First, at the iron gate, then at 416 leaning on the wall beside it. "...because…"

"An overwhelming force pursued you," 416 started. "M16 suggested leaving behind Team Skorpion to bring up the rear, buying your team precious minutes to escape. When they fell…"

"M16 had nothing to do with it!" M4 shouted angrily in reply. "I gave that order!"

"You?" 416 smirked. "Really?"

"Yes, Miss 416! I gave that order!" M4 insisted. "I am the one with the command module!" 

"I know that," 416 replied coldly. "Skorpion told us as much. I'm more surprised M16 had nothing to do with that decision of yours." A sneer slithered on her lips, "Such a calculated sacrifice...I expected nothing less from her." 

"She’s not a monster!" 

"She’s a soldier!" 416, arms unfolded and fists clenched, shouted. "Like a good soldier, she prioritises her orders! She's the sort who sacrifices her comrades and herself if that's what it takes to ensure the success of the mission!"

Another burst of static. Another cluster of red blips had perished without our notice. M4's face was red as the setting sun, her lips trembling. 

"Advising getting Team Skorpion to bring up the rear," 416 frigidly continued, "Staying behind to act as a diversion, I expected as much from M16. She is a soldier. Always a fine soldier. You…" she stabbed her finger at M4. "You aren't even half the soldier she is!" 

Pounding in the veins.

"M16 is wasted on you!" 

The throat rumbled. Lungs felt dry, straining in the ribs. "Enough!" 

416, mouth ajar, blinked and stared wide-eyed. "...Commander?"

"That is enough. Leave."

She lowered her arm, glared at M4, then turned to leave. As her footsteps faded, M4 stammered, "I...They insisted on staying behind. They said I have to escape to complete my mission. They…"

A sigh. The pulse slowed, breathing evened. "When did you last hear from your teammates?"

"Last I heard of them…" 

M4 paused. She inhaled, then exhaled slowly, "Gunshots." Another pause. "Gunshots. Last I heard of them. Gunshots. Back in subsector 4...three hundred metres from Safehouse 3..."

"...I see."

"What happened?" 

Skorpion at the gate, clutching a teapot tightly, brow knitted. "I saw Sarge stomping out a while ago…" She stopped, looked at M4, then at myself. "Are you bullying her?" she asked critically.

"No…" M4 answered. She sniffled, choked, then repeated, "No…" She looked up and smiled. Beads of tears had formed by her reddening eyes. "I'm fine." Her voice softened, "I'm glad you've escaped."

Skorpion narrowed her single eye sceptically, though she said nothing as she filled M4's cup. Another glare. "You really didn't bully her, did you?"

"...I didn't."

Skorpion, still sceptical, cocked her head slightly. She then turned to M4. “He didn’t bully you, did he?”

M4 shook her head. "N-No…" she stammered. Smiling weakly, she continued, "I'm just thinking about my comrades." Looking into her freshly-filled cup, she added, "...I...I promised I would return to rescue them, but... it's been a week..."

"...Tell me about your comrades."

A forlorn smile. "We are Team AR," she started. "Team Anti-Rain. We are built to be sisters. M16A1, M4 Sopmod II, ST AR-15...I'm the youngest sister." Looking at the tea again. "M16...she's the first to enter service...long before the rest of us were booted up from our pods. She's the most experienced among us, our reliable eldest sister though…" A sigh. Her smile turned bitter. "It's funny...how I'm the team leader and not her."

"What about Sop II?" Skorpion inquired suddenly. "I thought she's the youngest."

M4 snorted. "She does look like it, doesn't she…" She giggled. "No...she's not." She turned her eyes away from the cup and towards the tactical map. Another cluster of red blips had winked out. "Second youngest. She's just the least mature among us, that’s all."

"She's the smallest," Skorpion noted, "but also the strongest. She actually tore off a Ripper's limb with her bare hands. There's also that time she shot the Dragoon's leg right off and dropkicked the rider!"

M4 frowned. "She didn't try to ride the Dragoon, did she?" 

Skorpion drank her tea and shook her head, "No...she just kicked the Dragoon towards the advancing Sangvis, ten metres away, and blew it up with a grenade." Noting my look of disbelief, she swiftly added, "No, really! She did! She's really strong. I think she can actually beat Executioner in a fist-fight!"

"Oh…" M4 exhaled. "...Good. I thought I would have to lecture her..."

"What about AR-15?" Skorpion tilted her head towards her other shoulder. "Sop II said something about wanting AR-15 to see what she did.."

"She’s the second oldest sister," M4 replied. "...I don't know her too well. We don't talk to each other much. I don't think she likes me…" Her voice dropped into a murmur. "... She's a little scary…” a bitter smile formed upon her lips, “...but Sop II still prefers her company over mine. Some team leader I am…"

"Ah, don't worry about that," Skorpion waved her hand, with a batting motion. Another sip of her tea. She continued, "It happens. I mean…" she then regarded me. "Ingram and SVD don't like Cetin much, but they still listen to him." 

M4 frowned. "Dolls are obligated to listen to our Commanders…Still...Ingram..." she knitted her brow. "...I remember her. Didn't she solicit a fist-bump from your Commander?"

"Buu buu…" replied Skorpion, imitating a vehicle's horn. Smiling smugly, she added, "She’s just jealous Cetin praised me and gave me a fist-bump." 

"...Huh..." M4 uttered. Another bitter smile. "...Sop II only ever asked AR-15 to praise her…"

"Are you able to continue with the debrief?" 

M4 blinked, then nodded. "Y-yes…"

A sip on the tea. The cup was quarter-empty, the liquid cold. Still enough to comfort the ravaged throat. Its bottom clinked against its tray. 

"After you escaped from the ambush, you made your way here, to subsector 2. To get to subsector 1 or 2, you have to cross subsector 3. A redevelopment zone. Urban." 

Picked up the teapot. The false arm steady despite the rushing fluids. Not a single drop wasted. 

"Plenty of places to hide in, plenty of ways to navigate unnoticed. Why spurn subsector 3?"

"Subsector 3 redevelopment zone... isn't safe, Commander," M4 answered. "It's called City 3…’Novum Sambir'. Sangvis redevelopment project from before Butterfly Incident. There were Sangvis troops stationed at what looked like checkpoints. I…" She paused, pursed her lips, then continued, "...we agreed it is Sangvis home ground…"

"Why subsector 2?" 

M4 looked to the tactical map again. Blue blips moved towards Hevhj. "We had pre-arranged safehouses and rendezvous points in subsector 2...from back when we held our training exercises here. I think maybe... there's a chance I might meet my comrades in any one of them."

"How many?"

M4 looked at her tea. Its steam was starting to dissipate. "...Six. We have six."

"The cabin north of here, the mining village and?"

"The manor in T06, a fisherman's lodge along the river south of T06...T04…, a farmhouse west of T06, another cabin in the mountain pass." She fell silent for another moment. With some hesitation, she continued, "I can provide coordinates if you want."

"...I see." 

Another sip on the tea. Its flavour gradually soaked the tongue.

"Two days ago, you left the forest cabin. You should have seen activity in Hevhj…"

An amused snicker. "Bless you," said Skorpion cheekily.

"Hevhj?" M4 asked, puzzled.

A grunt. "This base camp. You should have seen our helos and encountered our listening posts. You met FNC and FN49. Instead of going to them, you fled to the village to the south-east of here. You fled again through the forest at the bottom of the cliff surrounding the manor in this village. Why?" 

"I…" M4 pursed her lips again. "I thought...I will endanger your company if I go with you."

"We are already endangered by being here."

"No...I mean…" M4 fidgetted. "I think if I go with you, the Sangvis will just wipe you out to get to me so…"

"Oi oi…" Skorpion uttered. "You think we are too weak to help?" 

M4 took a deep breath and nodded. 

"We are strong, M4!" Skorpion proclaimed. She looked offended. "We defeated Executioner!"

"I don't mean...I wasn't sure...I mean…" M4 hesitated again. "The Sangvis were everywhere here, and you have so few dolls your sentries are humans. Moreover, your patrol group consists of early model T-Dolls…"

"...you think they wouldn't endure under a Ringleader's onslaught." 

She fell silent. The cup was one-quarter empty. "You could have cut our losses if you had sought refuge with us. We have helos. We could evacuate you." 

"But...Commander...you…" she pursed her lips again. "You...you could lose people…"

"We already did." A heavy sigh. Another sip on the tea. “Death is always at our heels in this business.”  

"Yea…" Skorpion looked at her thighs and rubbed her knees together. "Yea...we did lose people...but!" She straightened herself, her eyes lit up, "We still defeated Executioner, right?"

M4 smiled nervously. "...Right." 

"How did Executioner find you?"

"I think she…" M4 inhaled. "It was from Miss Persica. She called, told me to stay put and wait for pick up. I think...I think Executioner detected the signal and traced it to my location."

"...I see…"

The cup was half-empty. 

"No further questions." 

"Commander…" she spoke up. "If I may...I know it's not my place to ask, but…" A hint of rising desperation. "My comrades are still in Sangvis territory, so please…" Another moment of hesitation. "...save them." 

"Do you know where they are? How to find them?"

M4 lowered her eyes. "N-No…"

"Then, I cannot promise I can save them."

"...Oh…" Forlornness in her voice. 

A sigh. "However, I will follow up on any lead of their whereabouts. This, I can promise." 

"Ah," said Skorpion. "He promised." Noting M4's confused expression, Skorpion grinned. "If he makes a promise, he's going to keep it."

M4's expression lit up. With a hesitant show of hopefulness, she uttered, "T-thank you, Commander."