Gears of War: Dog of War

Gears of War: Dog of War is as fanfiction written by LoboDiabloLoneWolf, and can be found either on Fanfiction.net here, or if you scroll down a bit. Lobo does not own anything from the Gears of War universe except that which she has created; plot, characters, and theories.

Summary
Gears of War: Dog of War follows the story of Muse Burrows, one of the Stranded fighting to survive in a war-torn Sera. Caught between the genocidal Locust and the fascist COG, Muse will have rely on her wits - and a lot of luck - to stay alive, as she and Delta Squad uncover some of the horrible truths behind the Locust.

Gears of War: Dog of War
‘There can be miracles, when you believe. Though hope is frail, it’s hard to kill.’ 

Proem
My name is Muse, and I was twelve years old when the Locust Horde first attacked Sera.

We lived in one of the smaller cities that escaped the devastation of the first attack, but it wasn’t long before we felt the repercussions. It spread in ripples from the larger cities like a pebble dropped in still water, and they said it was only a matter of time before the Locust breached the ground beneath our feet, and we were overrun by the invading army too.

Two weeks after Emergence Day, the Coalition of Ordered Governments were the ruling body of Sera. The first thing they did was pass the Fortification Act, which put every Seran under martial law and allowed the COG to seal off the Jacinto Plateau. They wanted to turn it into a fortress against the Locust because they couldn’t come up through the strata of solid granite bedrock underneath.

A couple of days after, and Gears came to the city. They told us that we were being evacuated to Jacinto in three days and we had until then to get ready, we were only to take what could be carried and nothing superfluous. We were encouraged to bring rations and medical supplies, but leave behind personal treasures that would weigh us down. Most of all they impressed on us that anyone not ready in three days, would be left behind.

The day before we were scheduled to be evacuated, holes opened in the earth, and the Locust Horde streamed out into the streets.

From the first crack we knew our days were numbered, and even though we’d all known an attack was inevitable, we were unprepared for it when it came. The Locust came like cockroaches from the deep rifts they had made, and quickly overwhelmed the Gears that were meant to protect us. Then they massacred the civilians, cutting them down and trampling them like grass.

My name is Muse, I was twelve years old when the explosion signalled the beginning of the end…

The Locust Horde
The blast rocked the house to its very foundations, as though it were made of matchsticks. Muse was jerked awake by the violent shuddering as it flung her from her bed and to the floor, where she lay for a dazed moment, confused and frightened and only half aware what was going on.

Then the sirens began to wail as the boom of a second explosion rumbled the ground, and the glass in the windows shattered into a million pieces. Muse covered her head with her arms as she was rained on by the shards, but the pain of the countless tiny scratches caused by the sharp glass was immediately forgotten as the terror of realisation flooded through her body. The earthquake explosions and the screaming sirens could only mean one thing.

The Locust were attacking.

Before the tremors of that second explosion had even subsided, she could hear the apocalyptic symphony; people screaming, the guttural roars and growls of the dreaded Locust, the terrifying sound of gunfire, but despite being petrified by the sounds of inevitable death, Muse scrambled up to look out of her window at the devastation below.

The Locust were everywhere; their huge pale bodies swarming so thickly in the grey morning light that it looked like the morning fog had suddenly risen up and spawned the hideous spectres from itself. Transfixed Muse could only watch in horror as the monsters trampled the humans fleeing before them, gunning them down without thought or mercy.

Hands suddenly closed on Muse’s shoulders and drew her away from the window, and the shriek that almost burst from the girl’s lips was silenced as she saw her mother. However Jessica’s face was bloodless pale and drawn with a terrible mixture of fear and resignation, her eyes were huge with dread and the whites were frighteningly obvious.

“Get your things.” She whispered in a low, urgent voice, “Get into your cubby and stay there.”

Just the strangeness of the order stifled Muse’s questions, and young girl immediately obeyed; quickly pulling on socks and boots, and sweater and jeans over her oversized t-shirt pyjamas, while her mother dragged the knapsack that had been packed from the moment they’d been told they were being evacuated, from under the bed.

When she was dressed, Muse went to the bedside cabinet and dragged it away from the wall, hooking a finger into what looked as though it was but a tiny knothole, and using it to swing open the hidden door of a cubby hole in the wall. She took the knapsack from Jessica and stuffed it in before crawling into the small space herself.

“Don’t make a sound now,” Her mother said in a soft but firm voice. Then she smiled, and the expression was tight and strained with pain and fear and sadness. “I love you, Museli.”

The goodbye was clear in her voice, and Muse felt alarm and panic rise within her as her subconscious understood what was happening even as she said it.

“Mum? Mum!?”

“Goodbye, my dear.” And before she could do anything, the cubby door was closed, and she heard Jessica replace the cabinet infront of it.

“MUM!”

Muse hammered small fists on the inside of the door, screaming and crying the word over and over again, despite her mother’s instructions to stay quiet. But even as she called and called, Muse knew that she would never see her mother again.

Downstairs, the front door exploded in a shower of splintered wood.

Muse immediately fell silent as the pure terror robbed her of her voice, and her whole body became rigid with fright as she felt the floor beneath her vibrate with many heavy footsteps pounding as the Locust poured into the house.

The young girl had to bite down hard on her fist, tears silently streaming as she heard Jessica screaming. The nightmarish sound continued for a few agonising seconds that seemed to last forever, then was finally silenced, and Muse let out a sob. They’d murdered her mother, just like they’d killed her father a week before as he fought with the other Gears.

When Muse heard the sound of Locust soldiers charging up the stairs moments later, and the sturdy door of her bedroom hit the polished wooden floor with a deafening crash as it was wrenched from its hinges; Muse knew the end had come, and she trembled harder, curling into a tight ball, her fist still in her mouth.

However the cabinet was not thrown aside, the door of the cubby was not wrenched open, and cruel Locust hands didn’t drag her out by her hair. She heard them turn the room upside down as they ransacked the house, and she heard them conversing in their rough and guttural voices as they argued over the spoils of war. She heard their huge boots stomping back and forth, but they didn’t find her hiding place.

Then suddenly she heard a yell that was not in a Locust voice, but a human voice, and there were more thundering footsteps as more huge boots entered her room. The Locust soldiers roared curses in their own tongue and then the whole word seemed to be filled with the sound of gunfire and Muse squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears in utter terror.

The floor beneath her shook as the behemoth combatants fought and no doubt crumpled to the floor as they were filled with lead. There were screams and roars of triumph and agony, the stutter and clattering scream of the Lancer rifle’s bullets and chainsaw, and the blast of the Locust Hammerburst, as the fire fight raged merely a few feet from where Muse crouched in fear. The noise was deafening and even when the sounds of battle lulled, the sound of the guns grew quiet and eventually faded, their echoes still rang in the air.

Finally the victorious Locust soldiers left the room, and silence settled over the house; now empty of life except that of a twelve-year-old girl. Only then, when Muse could no longer hear anything but her own blood pounding in her ears and her wildly beating heart, did she dare to crawl out from the cubby, shoving all her weight against the hidden door until she managed to push the cabinet aside.

Slowly she came out of her sanctuary, dragging the knapsack behind her, and stood in the middle of the devastation that was once her room. She looked around and saw the horrors of war before her eyes; the blood splattered on the walls and floor, the gouges in the wood made by bullet and chainsaw, the furniture torn to pieces, and the bodies of the fallen, both Gear and Locust Drone…

It was then she heard the groan and Muse yelped, slapping her hand over her mouth before her scream could maybe call the remaining Locust back. It took her wide, frightened eyes but a moment to find the source of the groan, and Muse felt herself go cold.

A man lay slumped against the wall, in his arms he cradled a Lancer, and blood poured from an ugly puncture wound in his chest. His eyes were only open to slits, and more blood dribbled from his mouth. Nevertheless he looked at Muse and managed a grim, painful smile even as she stared at him in frozen horror. He coughed wheezingly, and more blood splashed on his already blood-smeared Gear body-armour as Muse watched; hand over her mouth, eyes huge, and unable to move. But once the coughing fit subsided, the man, the Gear, looked at her again and managed to lift one arm up enough to beckon.

“C’mere kid…” he mumbled hoarsely.

Muse found herself obeying, and she slowly approached the fading COG soldier. Swallowing, the girl knelt by the fallen soldier and looked into his face. He smiled again, and Muse felt herself begin to cry, despite his smile he looked in so much pain… She stemmed the tears as the Gear gathered himself to speak.

“Take…my gun…” he rasped, his voice sounding as if every word was agony. One of his hands groped at the holster on his thigh and Muse did as he asked and slid out his pistol. “Ammo…” the soldier gasped.

Muse obeyed and took the pistol ammunition from his belt, tucking them into the side pockets of her knapsack and sweater. The soldier continued to force out instructions as his body failed; told the girl to take his grenades, cans of signalling smoke and flares. He choked out how to use them, and then with the last of his strength, the soldier drew his COG tags from around his neck and pressed them into her hand.

“Find the others…” he wheezed, “So we’ll be remembered…”

Muse nodded, and for a moment his huge gauntleted hand closed over hers with surprising gentleness and squeezed ever so slightly. Then his arm fell limp and the Gear closed his eyes as the breath left his body forever.

Muse sat with the COG soldier until she stopped trembling. Then she slowly rose and searched the other bodies of the COG soldiers, trying not to look at their blank eyes and dead faces; taking more ammunition from one, a fourth grenade from another, and the COG tags of them all; looping the metal chain of that first Gear’s tags around her neck next to her father’s, and putting the others in her pocket.

Once she had all the tags, Muse put the knapsack over her shoulders, and then crept through the ruined and shattered interior of what had once been her home, until she finally came to the smashed door. There she hesitated, but finally, warily peeped out.

Outside, all was silent death. The crows had descended on the bodies of the fallen, and were already picking at their charred flesh with cruel flashing beaks. Muse felt the bile rise in her throat, but held it down and turned her face away, covering her eyes. Averting her gaze from the grisly aftermath of battle, the young girl crept from the house, and into the deserted streets.

For a moment she stood there, alone in the middle of a once thriving, bustling square, and shivered. It was still and silent now, save the wind that howled mournfully around her, blowing up clouds of dust and swirling them around in a haze; around the little girl, the last survivor.

Tears of fear and confusion shivered down the girl’s face and glistened wetly on her cheeks as her young eyes took in the devastation of war. The buildings were damaged by the Locust’s merciless attack, and some lay as crumbling ruins. The fountain in the middle of the plaza which had been cracked and dry since Emergence Day, was now broken into pieces. The smoking wreck of a gutted car hulked darkly a little way away. The smoke and the dust stirred up by the wind, seemed to blot of the sun.

It was as if the very world was dying…

Muse turned away, unable to look on the burnt out corpse of her world any longer, and wandered deeper into the dead city.

Nightfall
The city now appeared deserted, but an oppressive air hung over it so much so that it was obvious that the Locust had claimed it for their own. No longer was it a safe place to be, and on instinct Muse began to head to the outskirts. She knew from her geography lessons which general direction the Jacinto Plateau was in, and so headed west, her back to the rising sun. Behind her the sky was bloody, and Muse couldn’t help but feel it was appropriate; so much blood had been spilled.

At first Muse just stared straight ahead trying to avoid looking at the multitude of dead littering the streets, but it was impossible to stop her eyes straying from that fixed point ahead of her; automatically looking for a familiar face in the crowd. The prospect of seeing any of her friends or family amongst those poor, agony-twisted corpses was both fearful repellent and morbid lure; even though she dreaded what she might find, she couldn’t stop herself from looking.

Mercifully, it wasn’t long before the civilian dead petered out to almost nothing, and the bodies became primarily combatants. Some were Locust, but for the most part the corpses were those of Gears. Forcing back the bile that rose in her throat and knotted itself in the pit of her stomach at the stench of blood and reek of decaying flesh, Muse continued to search the body of each and every Gear she could find, taking their tags and putting them into her pocket.

They will be remembered.

Eventually Muse came across a store that hadn’t been pillaged or burned, unsurprising really as it was tucked away down a side street where the Locust probably hadn’t thought to go to scavenge.

The girl easily broke the wide front window with a chunk of brick, then cleared the remaining jagged edges before scrambling inside and dropping into the cold, dark convenience store. The air smelled musty in here, but clean from the stench of dead, and the strip lighting on the ceiling flickered to life when Muse found the switch.

The store was small but had all the essentials and a little more besides, and Muse found more then enough to bolster the long-life supplies her mother had packed into her knapsack…

Mum…

Muse wondered if she should have looked for her mother’s body, but quickly decided against it. She would remember her mother as a living person, not a corpse. She would remember her when her father had still been alive, when it was the three of them and nothing else in the world seemed to matter as long as they had each other.

Shaking herself from her memories, Muse searched the store until she found some cold bags which would allow perishable foods to keep longer, and then began the business of stocking up supplies. All the jerky she could find went into one bag, followed by bread, powered milk, powered eggs, as much pre-cooked meat as could find, and then some chocolate. She found all the bottled water she could, and put them in a second bag along with plasters, painkillers, bandages, antibacterial soap, antiseptic cream, and anything else she thought might be useful. When Muse left the store, she had two of the blue padded cold-bags packed carefully in her knapsack.

That first day of horror passed for Muse in a kind of blur as she ran almost completely on autopilot. From a young age her father had taught her how to survive should she ever find herself alone, and the lessons he had so carefully instilled in her were now coming to fruition as seemingly on instinct, Muse prepared herself for the journey to Jacinto ahead.

Jessica had always said Muse was more her father’s daughter, and now her mother was being proven right. Muse looked like him, thought like him, and now she was acting like him, surviving like him.

Muse very suddenly missed her father with an acute ache that pierced down to her heart. Of course she’d missed him when he left on his tours during the Pendulum Wars, and she had missed him more when the news arrived of his death after being ambushed by the Locust, but she hadn’t missed him as much as she did at that moment. What would he do? she wondered. What would he tell her to do? She would never know. All she could do was use the lessons he’d taught her as a guide, and do her best to survive the nightmare.

Muse spent that first day walking, her fear of discovery by the Locust and the adrenaline coursing through her body, driving her onward. She ate on the move and hardly stopped to rest. She found carrying the pistol cumbersome and so scavenged a holster from the body of a Gear. Of course it was much too big to wrap around her thigh, she being only about a fifth of the size of a Gear, but she managed to get the straps over her head so that one went across her chest like a seatbelt, while the other was around her waist, the holster itself sitting comfortably on her hip.

She hid whenever she heard the sound of heavy boots nearby, but always peeped out of her hiding place at least once, just to make sure those passing weren’t COG soldiers.

They never were…

And so by nightfall at the end of that first day in hell, the girl was exhausted, and instinctively knew that continuing in the dark would be perilous. At first she thought to take refuge in one of the abandoned houses, but something inside her recoiled at the idea. Any of these houses would be dark and enclosed, and if Muse needed too, she wouldn’t be able to run, she’d be trapped.

So instead she found the least damaged of the car wrecks that littered the streets - one that sat under a still burning streetlamp which emitted a soft glow - and crawled into the backseat. She pulled the blanket from her knapsack and curled up in it, one hand touching the pistol that the dying Gear had given her, for reassurance. His COG tags still hung about her neck with her father’s, and the warmed metal felt comforting against her skin.

Bathed in the soft light of a the streetlamp, after the stress and fear and confusion of the day, the quiet night gave way to all of Muse’s grief and upset, and the young girl curled in the backseat of a burnt out car, was finally allowed to cry.

She cried for her mother, and she cried for her father. She cried for all her young friends who had barely begun to live before they were murdered. She cried for every person that had died in this war with the Locust. She cried for the Gear, whose name she didn’t even know, who had given her a tiny chance of survival. And last of all, she cried for herself, alone and afraid in the dark.

“God…” she whispered, “I know I’m just one little girl…and that you have more important things to do, but please, if you’re listening, please help me to survive this night…guide me to find safety and good people. Please God…I don’t want to die here…” the girl sniffled and took in a shivering breath as more tears leaked from her eyes, “Please?”

Eventually Muse’s tears ran dry and she sniffled for a while before falling silent. It was then, when she was quiet, that Muse heard a sound like a thousand wings beating, and she thought she saw a swarm of creatures flitting in the shadows; creatures with red eyes that swarmed just outside the light and seemed to be circling the car wreck.

Petrified, Muse curled up as tightly as she could and once again trembled in fear. It was a long time before she fell sleep; gripping the COG tags around her neck with one hand. She didn’t know if God had heard her or not, or if he was even there to hear, and she didn’t know if she was going to wake up the next morning.

But she hoped.

Gears of War
Muse woke up feeling horribly stiff and cold the next morning, but she was alive, and for that she felt infinitely more hopeful. Ignoring sore muscles and the cold that clawed at her, Muse crawled out of the car, and set off once more through the city. She still didn’t know what was going to happen to her; if she would make it all the way to Jacinto, get out of the city, or even live long enough to see tomorrow, but she hoped and pressed on, her hope keeping her going despite the horrors she passed; bodies, both human and Locust being picked by the crows, still burning fires and collapsed buildings; the death that had turned a city into one sprawling graveyard. She blocked it out and kept moving.

It seemed there was less Locust then the day before, though Muse didn’t know if that was because they’d finished with the husk of a city and returned underground, or if she was moving beyond their patrols. Whatever the reasoning though, she spent much less time hiding from the occasional Locust she did see, then she had the previous day.

They had come, more or less eradicated this entire city, and left again, in essentially one day… the thought was not a comforting one.

By the time the sun had reached its zenith - though its light was still dimmed by the dust and smoke that had yet to settle - Muse reached a wide boulevard that was dauntingly open and exposed. By this time her stomach was starting to complain, and on the other side of the broad avenue a rather large, impressive building that was fronted by the open thoroughfare, looked like a safe place to briefly stop and have a bite to eat.

A set of wide, flat steps led up to the front of the magnificent building and its multiple entrances, and both dotting the stairs and blocking the entrances, were an array of sandbag blockades and defences.

Sticking to the shadows, and avoiding being in the open as much as possible, Muse cautiously crossed the boulevard and scampered up the steps to hide behind one of the blockades. Hidden in the shadow of the sandbags, the girl sat and opened her pack. It was while she was chewing on the jerky and one of the vacuum packed sandwiches her mother had made, that Muse felt the rumbling.

At first it felt like the approach of a massive vehicle, but then the ground began to vibrate more obviously, making little stones do a skittering dance across the stone steps. The rumbling became more pronounced and as it reached the crescendo while the ground shook like an earthquake, there was the terrible sound of stone cracking, and no less then three emergence holes suddenly yawned open in the pavement below.

Muse cowered behind the sandbag wall as the roar of Locust voices and the sound of gunfire filled the air. However, morbidly fascinated, she could not stop herself peeping around the edge of her defence, and it was then that she saw the Gears. Four of them; all in heavy armour, all armed with Lancers, Gnasher shotguns or even a swiped Locust Hammerburst, and all of them fearless going toe to toe against the Horde as the two forced engaged.

Renewed hope swelled within Muse’s chest as she watched the Gears mowing down their monstrous foes; the pale bodies dropping under a hail of bullets or being thrown back by the close range blast of a shotgun or well-thrown grenade.

From her hiding place, Muse watched the battle, trembling with a mixture of anxiousness and anticipation as the Gears and Locust battled back and forth. The Drones fell to the relentless thunder of bullets, and blood splattered the ground and spread in pools where the fallen lay. The stench of death rolled over her senses, almost smothering them, and Muse’s eyes watered from the stink. She covered her mouth and forced herself not to be sick.

As the fight between Locust and Gears continued to rage, Muse realised with a wave of dread and apprehension that the combatants was steadily getting closer to her hiding place, and it wouldn’t be long before she was discovered by one side or the other. She couldn’t move though - she knew she wouldn’t last a second out of the cover of the blockade without being ripped to shreds by gunfire.

Suddenly a huge mass vaulted over the sandbags that Muse hid behind, and the girl let out a squeak before she could stop herself. The soldier looked down at the noise, and Muse saw the shock scrawled clearly across the face of one of the Gears; more then likely mirroring her own expression. He was tanned, and had short, dark hair, a tattoo of the word Maria adorned his bicep. He didn’t look as though he was that much older then Muse herself, eighteen or nineteen at the most.

For a second that seemed to spiral forever, Muse and the Gear stared at each other.

A few minutes prior…

“GRUB HOLE!”

Marcus Fenix’s bellow alerted the rest of the squad and the Gears took cover provided by the various chunks of rubble and debris scattered across the boulevard. Marcus’ best friend, Dominic Santiago, bunkered down beside the older soldier, letting loose a volley of blindfire over the bonnet of the car they were crouched behind.

“How many d’you think?” the Latino asked.

“Dunno.” Marcus growled, “Cover me.” Dom did so as the bigger man popped up from behind the car, swinging a bolo grenade around on its chain before lobbing it as hard as he could. The explosive arced over the heads of the advancing Locust and fell neatly into one of the E-holes, sealing it up when it went off.

“Nice shot!” Someone yelled.

However despite one grub hole being collapsed, there were still two more, and wave after wave of Locust continued to pour out of the earth. The Gears continued to gun down one Drone after another, but until the holes themselves were sealed, the enemy would just keep advancing.

“I’m gonna flank ‘em!” Dom called to his friend after a while. Marcus nodded and sprayed bullets from his Lancer as the other Gear flung himself out from behind the car and sprinted fast and low to the front steps of the Courts building, hurdling the nearest defence blockade and crouching behind it.

Just as he’d vaulted the low wall of sandbags and settled himself, Dom heard a tiny squeak just like a mouse being caught, coming from behind him. He looked quickly towards the sound, and froze. A small girl, around eleven or twelve years of age, was cowering right next to him, staring up at him fearfully.

She had dark hair, ice coloured eyes - green around the pupil, radiating out to blue - and was wearing faded jeans and a hooded sweater; she clutched at a bulging grey pack. Dom was even more surprised when he saw a holstered pistol at her hip and the two pairs of COG tags around her neck; but even that was overwhelmed by simply the shock of finding a kid, not even in her teens, still alive in the midst of a battlefield.

For several long moments, Dom could only stare at the girl in astonishment, then a grenade exploded close to where they were crouching, the girl whimpered in fright, and the Gear came back to himself.

“Stay down!” he shouted over the noise of fighting, and then resumed firing at the oncoming Horde as he roared into his Tac Com, “Marcus! I need backup, there’s a kid over here!”

“You what!?” His friend barked over the radio, obviously disbelieving.

“I’m not kidding, Marcus! I need some freakin’ backup!” Though Dom could understand Marcus’ incredulousness, he could hardly believe it himself, and he was looking at the girl huddling beside him while she shivered. “You’re going to be fine,” he tried to reassure her despite the utterly dire situation, “Just stay down, I’ll protect you, I promise.”

The little girl looked at him shakily, but nodded. Her blue-green eyes were wide with terror, but trusting, and Dom found his mind quite unexpectedly on his own two children; the little son and daughter who had died on Emergence Day, the baby girl of which who had only been a year old. For a sickening moment he wondered if they had looked as helpless and terrified as this young girl did now when the Locust had murdered them, and it suddenly became vitally important to him that he keep his promise to protect her.

Meanwhile Muse made herself as small as possible; scuttling back into the corner, pulling her knees under her chin, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, and covering her ears as the Gear above her fired Lancer rounds at the Locust. He seemed nice enough, his voice was kind, and she was so desperate for an adult to take responsibility, to protect her, just so she could feel safe again…

For the second time in so many days, Muse missed her father so badly it ached. She missed his huge, solid presence that always made her safe and protected. She missed how even when she’d gotten bigger, he’d scoop her up and swing her around until she squealed. She missed the songs he’d play on his battered old guitar when she had a bad dream.

At that moment Muse wished the Locust had found her cubby hole, maybe then she’d be with her mum and dad now…

After what seemed an eternity of noise, an eternity of screams and screeches and roars, it finally grew quiet as the terrible sounds of battle faded. Muse slowly lowered her hands from her ears, her whole body still trembling, still petrified. She watched the Gear slowly reload his gun and then attach it to the magnetic clamp on the back of his armour before looking at her.

“C’mon, kid, you’re safe now.” He beckoned, and though his tone was calm and soothing, Muse didn’t dare move. Then he crouched down so that he was more at her level, and offered a hand, keeping his movements slow and tentative as through encouraging a small frightened animal.

For a moment Muse looked from the massive gauntlet, to the Gear’s face, and back again, chewing her lip and working up the courage until she finally edged forward to take the offered hand. She held it tightly, her other hand clutching her pack, as the Gear led her out from behind the sandbags.

The Locust were nowhere to be seen now; only their fresh corpses remaining as any proof of the battle that had just transpired. The image burned itself into Muse’s mind along with all the other horrors she had witnessed in the past two days, and she turned her face away, pressing it against the Gear’s side, shuddering.

However even though there were no more living Locust, the boulevard was not deserted, and as the three other Gears of the squad approached, Muse could almost feel the vibration of each thudding footstep. She stared at them, wide eyes inescapably fixed on these huge men, these soldiers of the COG, unable to look away until her nerve broke and she half hid herself behind the man who still held her hand.

The apparent leader was even more massive then the other Gears Muse had seen and had black tattoos on one side of his face and covering his arms. Another, this one looking a similar age to the young man holding her hand, had a black do-rag tied around his head, and was looking from her to the Gear beside her and back again, eyebrow arched.

“Bloody hell, Dom…” he muttered. The Gear beside Muse, Dom, shrugged. Then the huge man with the tattoos came closer and crouched down infront of Muse, studying her with keen interest before speaking in a deep, measured baritone;

“What is your name, little one?”

“…Muse.” Her voice sounded rusty, like she hadn’t used it in a while.

“How’d she make it, sir?” the youthful voice came from the fourth Gear of the squad, his features masked by the COG helmet he wore. Nevertheless, Muse had the distinct impression he was a newly drafted rookie.

“Why don’t you ask her?” The tattooed Gear replied, dark eyes still fixed upon Muse. His gaze was so intent that the girl shuffled even closer to Dom. Noting her discomfort and catching a look from Dom, the Gear with the do-rag grunted;

“Can’t this wait until we’re out of here, Tai?”

The tattooed man, Tai, nodded, and then stood.

“Maybe that would be best.” He agreed, then he put a finger to his ear, and seemingly spoke to himself. “Control, this is Delta, we need an evac. We found a survivor…”

Hope
Delta Squad was informed by Control that a King Raven could come and pick them up within the hour and they were to sit tight until then. Muse wasn’t entirely sure what a King Raven was, but could only assume it was some sort of transport. So she sat with the Gears behind one of the sandbag blockades outside the Courts building; hugging her knees and keeping quiet as she listened to the COG soldiers talk amongst themselves.

After a moment though, Dom realised that she was sitting outside the group, and beckoned to her; “C’mere kid, you don’t have to sit over there.” At his bidding, Muse crept over and ended up between him and his apparent friend, the Gear with the do-rag, Marcus.

She really was pitiful to look at, covered in dirt, tear tracks still marking her smudged cheeks, and even now among the Gears, she flinched at the smallest sudden sound as though any moment she expected Locust to appear and attack…

“D’you want something to eat, Muse?” Dom asked her after a minute, offering a ration bar and trying to think of someway he could calm the girl’s nerves. Muse shook her head in polite refusal.

“No, thank you.”

“What sort of a name is ‘Muse’, anyway?” Marcus growled suddenly, his attempts to take the child’s mind off her fear much brusquer then his friend’s. Muse scowled at him; her father had picked her name, and she’d always been rather fond of it.

“What sort of a name is ‘Marcus’?” she replied peevishly. Marcus scowled back at her. On Muse’s other side, Dom sniggered as the huge soldier and the young girl glared daggers at each other. Apparently Marcus’ rougher approach to occupying Muse’s mind was more successful then reassurances.

“Come on Marcus, leave the kid alone.” He said, but Muse refused to let the Gear with the do-rag off with what she perceived as an insult to her father’s memory, and continued hotly;

“My dad picked it, actually. He was a Gear too.” She added, a little unnecessarily, but thinking it might gain a little more respect from the present company. It half worked as both Marcus and Dom looked interested, and even Tai and the rookie stopped conversing to listen.

“Who’s your dad, kid?” Dom asked.

“Dominic Burrows… the… the Locust killed him…” Muse had divulged her sire’s name proudly, but her voice lowered to a whisper at the second half of the statement. There was a pause as the Gears on either side of her exchanged a glance.

“…M’sorry, kid…” Marcus finally murmured. “We know what it’s like to lose the people you love to war…”

Muse looked at him, eyes sad and silently pleading for him to go on. For a second Marcus considered not doing so, but then he found himself talking… He told Muse about Carlos Santiago; Dom’s older brother and his own best friend, who had died in the Pendulum Wars, before the Locust had even shown their ugly faces above ground…

When he fell silent, Dom took up the story, and showed the little girl the photo he always kept under his chestplate, next to his heart. The photo was of himself and a beautiful woman with dark hair and soft eyes.

“Is that Maria?” Muse asked in a whisper, remembering the tattoo on Dom’s arm. He nodded.

“She’s my wife… she disappeared a couple of days after E-Day when…” he paused, and Muse watched him swallow painfully, “When our kids were killed…” Muse bit her lip so hard she tasted blood… Poor Dom…

“What were their names?” she whispered, he looked at her.

“Benedicto and Sylvia…”

Muse committed both names to memory without really knowing why, and suddenly felt a little guilty for surviving the Locust’s attack on her home, when Dom’s children hadn’t.

Meanwhile the group fell into a subdued silence. It seemed ironic that the only thing that stopped humans fighting amongst themselves was a fight with another species that wanted to wipe them off the face of the planet…

Then Muse yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted from the stress and everything else she had experienced in the last two days. Dom looked down at her and chuckled.

“Get some shut-eye kid.”

Muse mumbled something incoherent in reply and closed her eyes. It was only when she was half-asleep and leaning against Dom, that she remembered the COG tags in her pocket; she’d give them to these Gears she decided, they’d know what to do with them to make sure the COG soldiers they had belonged to were remembered. Though she decided not to give them the second pair of tags around her neck that hung with her father’s, and she wouldn’t relinquish the pistol at her hip either. That Gear had given them to her, and Muse felt it was right that she carry them in his memory, just as she carried her father’s tags.

It was as Muse drifted somewhere between awake and asleep; where she felt her body resting and being rejuvenated, but couldn’t move her limbs or make her eyes open, that she realised she could still hear everything that was going on around her. The Gears were talking again, though now in lowered voices so as not to disturb her.

“How d’you think she made it, really?” the rookie was asking. Muse felt Dom shift slightly to glance down at her and then shrug slightly.

“I dunno…” he admitted, “But she was lucky…”

“I want to know how she got all the equipment.” The rookie continued, “What if she nicked them from someone’s body?”

“Then even in death, those Gears were protecting someone.” Tai’s deep, calm baritone silenced any more speculation, and the conversation turned to more military matters.

Under closed eyelids, Muse listened to the exchange and decided that later, she’d tell them about her two days in hell. She’d tell them about the Gear that had saved her, and given her his tags and equipment. She’d tell them so he could be remembered and she’d give them the other tags so those soldiers would be remembered too.

As the COG soldiers’ talk turned to their own issues, Muse felt herself drifting deeper into slumber; lulled by the gentle rocking of Dom’s breathing. Just before she succumbed to unconsciousness completely though, a realisation drifted across her mind;

The Locust had the power. The power to destroy all the humans on Sera, the power to devastate families and rip them apart. They had the power to take away the Seran’s homes, their parents, their children, even their lives.

But, Muse realised, for all their power, there was one thing that the Locust couldn’t take, no matter how hard they tried. They couldn’t take away the one thing that would make the humans survive, that would drive them to keep on fighting no matter how dark or lost their cause.

The Locust, could not take away their hope…

Refugees
It was a strange noise that intruded on Muse’s slumber, a rapid chop-chop-chop that invaded her sleep and entered her dreams. It was a sound Muse’s subconscious recognised, but couldn’t place. The chopping grew louder and eventually roused the young girl from her sleep, and slowly, Muse sat up; blinking blearily and drowsily looking around.

Around her, the Gears were rising to their feet and collecting their guns. Dom helped Muse stand up before grabbing his own Lancer.

“That’s our ride.” he told her, “D’you need help with your pack?”

“No, I’m fine thanks.” Muse replied, swinging the grey knapsack onto her shoulder. She paused a moment, then added hesitantly; “But… if you didn’t mind…” and she tentatively slipped her hand into his. Dom said nothing, but held her hand firmly as Delta Squad left the Courts building behind, and went towards the sleek black military chopper that was landing in the middle of the boulevard.

Keeping low, Dom quickly made his way over to the King Raven with Muse in tow; the girl using her arm to shield her eyes from the dust kicked up by the ‘copter’s blades. For a moment there was only dust and noise, and then Muse heard Marcus’ voice coming from infront of her. Squinting, she saw that the other three Gears were already in the helicopter, and Marcus was down on one knee, holding out a gauntleted hand.

“C’mon kid!” he bellowed over the noise of the helicopter, and Muse didn’t need to be told twice. She stretched up her arms and gripped Marcus’ hand. The soldier with the black bandana gently took hold of her and lifted her up into the chopper while Dom scrambled in after.

Once everyone was aboard, Tai banged a fist on the side of the helicopter, yelling at the pilot to go, and the King Raven began to rise and was soon flying over the buildings of the city. For Muse, the experience was almost as terrifying as being in the middle of a fire fight; the chopper soared high above the city, and there was nothing to stop her from sliding right out and plummeting to her death.

She squeezed herself between Dom and Marcus, eyeing the doorless sides of the chopper warily.

“Why doesn’t it have any doors?” she asked, watching the scenery flash by in a blur.

“Easier for us when we’re being dropped in a hot zone.” Marcus grunted, he nudged the girl gently, “Don’t worry kid, we’re not going to let you fall out.” He paused a moment, and at a nod from Dom, asked; “Muse… how did you survive the Horde?”

The girl looked at him, her hand straying automatically to the pair of COG tags at her neck, and chewed her lip. Then, reaching into her pocket, she drew out all the tags she had collected in the past two days.

She heard an intake of breath from Marcus.

“When the Locust attacked my house…” she whispered, “Mum made me hide in my cubby hole… I…I heard… so much screaming…”

Muse could feel herself shaking, and knew the burning prickling behind her eyes heralded oncoming tears as she relived the memories in her mind. She felt Dom put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently, and took a deep breath before continuing;

“After they killed her, they came upstairs… I could hear them tearing up my room… and then Gears came, they fought the Locusts, but the Locust won… I came out when they went away.” Muse paused again, swallowing as she remembered the kind face of the COG soldier who’d give her his gun. “There was a Gear who wasn’t dead yet, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he gave me his gun…grenades… tags, and told me to find as many of the others as I could… so they’d all be remembered… and I did… every body I saw I… I took the tags…”

The members of Delta Squad were staring at her now, part admiring and part appalled; the twelve-year-old girl must have dug through the stuff of nightmares to retrieve the tags of the fallen. Silently she offered them to Marcus, who took them reverently, and tucked them into a compartment in his chestplate.

“They’ll be remembered, kid.” He muttered gruffly. Muse’s eyes never left the metal flooring infront of her, but she nodded.

A little while later, once she’d gotten used to the rocking movement of the chopper, Muse once again drifted into a dose. However this time, rather then being able to hear the conversing Gears, Muse instead sank into the psychedelic colours of a blurred and jumbled dream.

''the streets piled with the corpses of the dead the Locust erupting from the ground like insects, swarming in a pale wave the front door exploded in a shower of splinters shadows advancing on a terrified Jessica MUM! the face of a Gear, pained and bloodstained, but still smiling find the others her father in Gear armour scooped her up in his arms and swung her around while she giggled before kissing her cheek I love you sweetheart I love you too daddy screams, always screams, crying, sobbing, begging, pleading don’t leave me alone! where are you!? dad? dad!? DADDY!''

Muse awoke with a cry, surging up and forward from where she’d been slumped in her seat. Huge, strong hands held her back and with eyes blinded by tears and the images imprinted on her retinas, Muse fought. But then she heard her name being called…

“Muse? Muse!”

“You’re okay, kid! It’s just us!”

Muse blinked, and the dream images faded. She was in the chopper being held in her seat by Dom on one side and Marcus on the other, and tears were streaming down her face as she gasped and shivered, her whole body trembling. She looked up to find the two Gear’s concerned faces above her, Dom looking a little pale.

“You’re okay, kid.” Marcus rumbled again, “Just a nightmare, easy now.”

“Yeah… yeah, you’re safe.” Dom said quietly, sounding a bit shaken. Seeing Muse in the grip of what must have been a terrible nightmare had once again brought to mind his own kids… “We’ve got you.”

The little girl looked up at him wide eyed, then gave a soft sob of relief and wrapped her arms around Dom’s thick one, burying her face in his shoulder. She clung to him like he was the last person in the universe while on her other side, Marcus silently patted her head, and he and Dom exchanged a meaningful glance.

Muse spent the rest of the flight clinging to Dom’s arm. Far from minding that the girl was stuck to him like a limpet, the Latino let her hold onto him, occasionally touching her head just to reassure her that he was still there.

By now the chopper had left Muse’s place of birth far behind, and they flew over the stunning vistas of Sera that had somehow survived, unspoiled by the Pendulum Wars and the Locust invasion. Muse peered around Dom to look out over meadows and trees, shining rivers like twisting ribbon, rolling hills and mountains looming in the distance, and her eyes grew wide and round as she watched it all slip past beneath the King Raven.

She would never have guessed that such beauty could still exist in a world where invading monsters could come up out of the ground and destroy a city in a single day. All too soon though, the chopper passed the Seran natural wonders, and once more flew over derelict streets and collapsing buildings.

Up ahead, Muse saw a long highway bridge spanning a gorge, and a multitude of people gathered at the nearest end. On the other side of the bridge was what appeared to be the other half of a sprawling city, though without the clustered high-rises that were on this side.

Suddenly Muse realised that the chopper was descending, the group of people its obvious destination, and it wasn’t until that moment that Muse wondered where exactly this helicopter was going. She pressed closer to Dom.

The King Raven landed with a bit of a bump and rocked up and down a bit before settling. The rotors did not slow or stop. Dom stood, his expression was suddenly uneasy.

“Come on, Muse.” Muse did as she was told, feeling her heart in her mouth as Dom lifted her down from the ‘copter’s interior and took her hand again as they left the helicopter. “The pilot radioed ahead, so they know you’re coming…” he told her. Muse looked up at him, feeling suddenly sick.

“Dom… what’s happening?” She watched him take a deep breath through his nose, and then let out a sigh. Once they were far enough away from the chopper that they weren’t blinded by the dust and deafened by the rotors, he turned to her and went down on one knee, hands on her shoulders.

“Listen to me, Muse… You’re going to go with these refugees to Jacinto, and you’ll be safe there. They’ll have good food and a warm bed, and you won’t have to be scared of the Locust anymore, alright?”

“But…” Muse could feel herself getting upset, tears burning the back of her eyes, “But… can’t I stay with you?” Dom actually looked as though in pain as he answered;

“I’m so sorry sweetheart… You can’t come with us… we have to fight the Locust…”

Muse fiercely blinked back the tears, but nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah I know…”

“Good girl… you take care of yourself, okay, and after you get to Jacinto, I’ll come and find you, yeah?” Again Muse nodded, and then she flung her arms around the Gear’s neck and clung to him.

“You saved me, you and the others… I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you guys… Thank you Dom… and tell the others I said thank you too…”

It all came out of her in a tumbled rush, but it was heartfelt and Dom nodded as he hugged the little girl tightly. He just knew in his gut that this was a very bad idea; they should take Muse to Jacinto themselves, but Control had given them their orders… Going against his better judgement, Dom gently disentangled Muse’s arms from around his neck, and stood.

“Look after yourself.”

Muse roughly wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. When she looked at Dom again, he could see her fear, but also that core of steel that had helped her survive before being picked up by Delta. She nodded.

“You as well.” She watched Dom nod, and then jog back to the chopper. He climbed in and Muse waved a hand as the sleek black helicopter rose out of its cloud of dust and flew away. She couldn’t see if Dom, Marcus, or any of the others waved back…

Only when the ‘copter was out of sight did Muse turn away. Head hanging and feeling downcast, she trudged over to the crowd of refugees milling near the toll booths, waiting to cross the bridge. She was met there by a grizzled, rather severe looking man with one eye. He was wearing what appeared to be some kind of law-enforcement officer’s uniform and was holding a clipboard; he looked down at Muse as though she was a bug; one of a million others not worth any particular attention.

“Name.”

“M-Muse Burrows.” The girl whispered, utterly cowed. The man ran his pen down the column of names, and wrote something.

“You’re the one the Gears decided to dump on us,” he said, then continued without waiting for an answer, “As if they think we have nothing better to do then take in stray puppies. I have over a hundred people here that I have to organise and get to Jacinto, and they swan in…” He walked off muttering, then stopped when Muse didn’t follow, “Get to it, girl!” he barked, and she hurried forward; following him obediently as he started walking, once again muttering mutinously to himself about damn Fortification Act and Martial Law.

Muse swallowed back tears as she meekly followed the officer. Tears wouldn’t help her now.

She missed Dom already…

Red Sky at Night
Muse spent the night amongst the other huddled refugees using her pack as a pillow. Though she was tired, she couldn’t get to sleep; the pistol and holster which she had hidden in her knapsack at the earliest opportunity dug into her shoulder, and the breathing of so many people around her was unnerving and made her feel exposed. After being alone for what seemed forever, and then being in only a small group with Delta, being suddenly surrounded by such a large number of people was uncomfortable.

What if the Locust came? All these people would panic and stampede like a herd of mindless beasts, and Muse didn’t have anyone to cling to for protection, nor was she very big. The thought of being trampled by a horde of panicking people made her shiver, and she clutched at the COG tags around her neck for comfort.

“I’ll be alright.” She whispered to herself into darkness that was alleviated only by the oil drum fires dotted here and there, “I’m going to get to Jacinto, and Dom’s going to find me…”

For some reason the thought of the Latino Gear was a comforting one. Maybe it was because he’d been a father himself, and she’d felt her own father’s absence more and more acutely lately? To think of it, they even had the same name; if ‘Dom’ was short for ‘Dominic’ anyway. Whatever the reasoning, Muse felt calmer, and in the early hours of the morning, she finally managed to fall asleep.

She was woken abruptly only a few hours later by a rough shake and gruff voice saying; “C’mon kid, wake up.” Muse’s eyes fluttered open to the face of a young officer; though she wasn’t sure if he was military or, like the grizzled man, law-enforcement. He continued to peer down at her for a couple of seconds, then satisfied she was awake, moved on to rouse the other sleeping refugees.

Muse pushed herself up and looked around. It was still dark, though the promise of dawn was greying the sky. All around her, the refugees were waking and rising, preparing themselves for the journey ahead. Muse watched them; families with children, couples, small groups, and suddenly felt very lonely. However she pushed it away and opened her pack.

Shoving the gun and holster deeper into her knapsack, Muse took out some jerky and a bottle of water, and bolted them down in a swift breakfast. Merely minutes after she’d replaced the half empty water bottle in her pack, she heard a male voice shouting for silence through the dark. The murmuring of the crowd immediately quieted.

“Alright everyone!” called the voice once silence reigned, “Stick together and don’t fall behind! Let’s go!”

It took a few seconds for any movement to become apparent, but then slowly and sluggishly, like a river of thick mud, the host of refugees began to walk; heading across the bridge. And among them, went Muse.

They walked in darkness at first, and then through the gradually paling light of a watery dawn. The sun began to rise as the head of the line reached the middle of the bridge, and in the light the full panoramic view of the gorge below them was revealed; stretching out on either side, the incredible show of harsh, natural beauty was both magnificent and humbling, and the higher the sun rose, the more was exposed.

A silvery ribbon of water twisted along the gorge’s bed far below, and the rocky sides which had at first appeared to be all the same dull brown, were revealed to be countless hues of brown shot through with a whole spectrum of colours; red, black, grey, green, blue, and even purple. Muse’s eyes drank in the sight, and she carefully filed away the memories alongside those of the vistas she had seen from the King Raven.

Proof that beauty still existed, even in a world of Locust.

Soon though, the sun that had illuminated their surroundings became a torment as it reached its zenith and beat down mercilessly on the long line of refugees. Caught in the middle of the completely exposed highway bridge, there was nowhere to find shade and the only option was to press on. By this time Muse had taken off her deep red hooded sweater and wrapped the arms of it around her waist, revealing the oversized camo-coloured t-shirt that had once served as her pyjamas. It was so worn that the bronze-coloured words “Army Brat” emblazoned across the chest were almost completely faded.

Nearby, another little girl of about five or six years of age with blonde pigtails and part of a family group of four - mother, father, herself, and a babe in arms - was having a much worse time of it. She stumbled and would have fallen had her father not caught her. At first Muse kept her head down and would have continued passed the little family, but just then she heard the little girl whimper;

“I’m so thirsty, daddy…”

“I know, sweetie,” the man answered miserably, “But we don’t have any water right now…”

And Muse couldn’t help herself. She slowed her pace as she swung her pack off her shoulder and dug around in it for a brimming bottle of water. When she had a couple of bottles in hand, she edged over to the small group.

“Excuse me…” she whispered, “I couldn’t help overhearing…” she offered the bottles of water to the little girl. “I’ve got a couple spare, you have these…”

The girl looked at Muse with huge bright blue eyes, as though hardly daring to believe it. Then she beamed and gently took the bottles as though Muse were giving her something delicate and made of glass, before turning excitedly to her father.

“Look daddy! Look what the nice girl gave me!”

The man scooped up his daughter as she impatiently babbled, and unscrewed the cap off one of the water bottles so she could drink. As the girl guzzled the water greedily, he looked at Muse. His eyes looked wet as he mouthed Thank you. Muse merely shrugged, smiled, and turned away, resuming the walk once more. Even though she was still hot and tired, somehow, she felt lighter.

It was hours later, just as Muse’s part of the refugee convoy finally reached the other side of the bridge, that Muse felt a tugging at her sleeve. She looked down to see the same blonde girl to whom she’d given the bottles of water, and smiled faintly, suddenly feeling rather adult and important around someone half her age.

“Hullo.”

“Hi.” The girl greeted shyly, “Erm… daddy said you looked a bit hot and uncomfortable, and told me to give you these.”

Muse cocked her head as she looked down at what the girl was offering her. In her hands were a faded camo-coloured cap and a couple of black hair ties. The gifts were small, but the thoughtfulness touched Muse - who had been feeling uncomfortable with a bare head and her hair loose and sticking to the back of her neck - and she smiled.

“That’s so nice of you, thank you.” She took the offered items and swiftly tied her long dark hair into a thick rope plait with the two bobbles before tugging on the peaked cap. Immediately she felt cooler and her eyes were shaded from the glaring sun. “Would you like some chocolate?”

The girl’s eyes lit up and she beamed, nodding, and Muse dug around in her pack to find a couple of bars. She gave one to the little girl, and opened the other for herself, chomping on the sweet confectionary. The blonde girl followed suit, chewing happily.

“So what’s your name?” Muse asked her.

“Amy. What’s yours?”

“I’m Muse.”

“That’s a pretty name.” Muse smiled slightly,

“Thanks, my dad picked it.” Amy looked around curiously, as though looking for the man Muse spoke of.

“Where is your daddy?”

“Erm, he died. He was a soldier.” Amy’s face fell and her expression became abashed and uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, as though afraid she had offended the older girl. However Muse shrugged a little and smiled a brief, grim smile.

“Don’t be, it can’t be helped…”

Amy didn’t ask about her mother.

The two girls continued to walk together until every refugee had crossed the bridge. Once everyone was gathered at the petrol station nearby, a stop was called and every person sank gratefully to the dusty ground.

Amy invited Muse to sit with her family while they had something to eat, and Muse agreed, willingly sharing some of what she had with her new friend. As they ate, Muse took in the new surroundings; the city on this side of the bridge was completely different to the high-rises they had left behind. It was more like Muse’s old hometown with older buildings no more then three stories high, which exhibited Sera’s more traditional architecture.

Muse had at first thought that Amy’s parents would do the typical adult thing and start asking personal questions that she really didn’t want to answer, but surprisingly they kept the conversation on safely vague topics such as favourite foods and pastimes. Muse found out that Amy’s favourite colour was blue and that the baby was her little brother, Samuel.

“So what did you like to do, Muse?” Amy’s father asked. ‘Before the Locust.’ hung unsaid between them.

“Watching Thrashball with my dad,” Muse answered, feeling both a little bit better and a little bit worse as she mentioned her own father, “We’d have corndogs and popcorn and jerky, and mum would make sandwiches and lemonade.”

“That sounds lovely, dear.” Smiled Amy’s mother as she nursed the baby with his bottle. Muse nodded, suddenly feeling subdued as she thought about her dead parents. She hoped they were in a better place now…

Not long after that, the refugees were ordered to their feet again and the march resumed, Muse now walking with Amy and her family. Even after leaving the bridge behind, they still walked along a wide highway, though now with dilapidated buildings on either side. The crowd fell eerily silent as they passed through the half ruined ghost town.

The remaining hours to sunset were spent on the move. As the orange sphere began to sink down infront of them, blinding Muse with its glare despite her peaked cap, the host had only just reached the outskirts of the city, and the pace had slowed to almost nothing.

It was just as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon and the refugees were still within the city’s borders, that Muse felt the vibrations and instantly froze in horror, knowing all too well what they meant.

Grub holes…

Muse reacted automatically, and she howled the warning at the top of her voice; “GET OFF THE STREET! LOCUST!”

A scream of fear immediately rose up from the crowd and all faces went pale and scared. But instead of moving, the refugees just huddled together like terrified sheep, even as the ground began to shake more perceptibly.

Muse however, couldn’t find a bolthole fast enough, and she grabbed Amy, loudly bawling “COME ON COME ON!”, while dragging the blonde girl to the side of the street with the rest of the family in tow as emergence holes began to appear… ten of them… twenty… thirty… More then Muse had ever seen before.

The frantic movement and the fissures opening in the earth finally prompted the rest of the crowd out of their stillness, and suddenly everything seemed to explode into action as everyone moved at once, all rushing to get off the exposed highway.

Families and groups travelling together were separated in the crushing press of terrified bodies. Children screamed as they lost their grips on their parents, and likewise parents yelled before being swept in another direction. Fighting through the madness, it was even worse then Muse had feared. The panicking crowd didn’t just stampede, but became a rampaging mob where every person’s only thought was saving themselves, even at the expense of everyone else.

However, seeing so much fear helped her keep a cool head, and instinctively Muse did what had been engrained into her by her father; survive, and help as many others to survive as possible. Keeping a hold on Amy, Muse pushed through the thronging adults, rounding up any stray or straggling children she came across. Lost and confused, they put up no fight at all and instantly obeyed the commanding twelve-year-old when she told them to follow her through the swarm of people.

Beside one of the houses which fronted onto the street was an exterior entrance to what must have been a basement or cellar, and Muse headed for it still pulling Amy and the gaggle of children she had collected behind her. She flung open the doors once she’d reached them and ordered the flock of children into the basement beyond, ignoring all protests.

“Get down there!” she roared at any who hesitated overlong, even resorting to bullying those that were particularly mulish; “Do you want the Locust to get you!?”

Once the last child had disappeared into the darkness of the cellar, Muse turned to get the other members of Amy’s family down there as well… only to find they were not even there…

It only took one horrible, stomach-churning moment for Muse to realise what must have happened; Amy’s parents and baby brother must have been separated from herself and Amy in the chaos of fleeing people. Immediately Muse’s thoughts were focused on finding them, and she shouted to those in the cellar to stay where they were and keep quiet, before she closed the two doors and plunged headlong back into the madness.

There were people everywhere; crying for loved ones, searching for friends, even trying to retrieve supplies… but louder then all of them were the sounds that had haunted Muse’s nightmares since the fall of her own city…

Screams of agony and terror… and the roars of the Locust.

She could see them now, pale giants that could have been mistaken for Gears if not for their warped faces and bestial tongue. They swaggered through the mass of frightened humans, nonchalantly cutting down all in their path as easily as grain before a scythe.

Running ahead of the Drones, Wretches shrieked and pounced upon the people that fled before them; tearing them to pieces and gorging on warm innards. Muse heard the whoosh of a flamethrower, and savage laughter from the Locust that wielded the weapons as people fell with screams, writing in pain. There were Locust with huge shields, swinging maces, or toting heavy guns that spat out bullets in a continuous stream. Muse heard the boom of rockets, and the ground shuddered as they exploded; tossing people and rubble into the air as easily as a candy wrapper caught in the wind.

And they were coming this way.

Muse tore her eyes away from the oncoming wave of death and devastation, and desperately cast about for familiar faces amongst the running people and fallen bodies while debris rained down on her from the Boomers’ explosions.

Then she saw what she had dreaded. Amy’s father lay face down on the cracked pavement while her mother bent over him, crying. His body was not marked, and Muse realised that he hadn’t been killed by bullet, fallen debris, or even a Wretch.

He’d been trampled to death.

Muse ran over and immediately began tugging at the woman’s sleeve, trying to get her away from the body of her dead husband.

“Come on!” she bellowed, “Leave him, he’s gone!” But the distraught woman refused to move, but just rocked back and forth sobbing, the falling ash mixing with her tears.

Eventually Muse had to concede that nothing she could do would make Amy’s mother move; the grieving woman would just sit here until the Locust Horde came and ended her misery. For a moment Muse stood helplessly, not knowing what to do. Then she heard the baby crying, and found Samuel wrapped in his blanket by his mother’s side; though he bawled, his mother ignored him, too caught up in her own sorrow.

Slowly Muse scooped up the child and looked at the oblivious woman; she put a hand on her shoulder and then said softly;

“I’m so sorry… but I’ll look after them, I promise…”

And then Muse bolted.

She ran flat out until she reached the house with the outside entrance to the cellar, and flung open the doors. She sprang inside and slammed the doors behind her, fumbling in the semi-darkness a moment as she slid all the bolts home.

Knowing that a few metal sliding bolts wouldn’t even slow the Locust for more then minute, Muse quickly and carefully made her way down into the basement; attempting to hush Samuel and not take a misstep at the same time. She reached the bottom step to find the cellar dimly lit by the orange rays of the setting sun filtering through a couple of small, dusty windows. The slanting bars of light did little to illuminate more then the dust motes, but it did enough for Muse to see that the cellar was completely empty.

Fear filled her as she wondered where the children hiding down here had gotten too. Then she heard a soft scuffle, and hoping that the sound didn’t come from a Wretch that had found its way down here, Muse whispered;

“Hello?”

Immediately she heard a more scuffling, and then the children who she’d made hide down here were around her, whimpering in terror. There were almost twenty of them, ranging from three- or four-years-old to twelve and thirteen. Their eyes were wide and their faces were pale with fear, and as they looked to Muse for guidance, she felt for maybe the first time the weight of responsibility that she’d put on herself. She quickly shook it off though.

“Amy, I’ve got your brother.”

“Samuel?” Amy’s voice whispered, Muse saw her push through the others to get to her. “Sammy! Where’s mummy and daddy?” The image of the grieving woman bent over her husband’s body while sobbing obliviously to everything else, rose briefly in Muse’s mind. She quashed it.

“I couldn’t find them, I’m sorry Amy… take your brother, we don’t have much time.”

She expected the blonde girl to argue, but Amy just silently took her brother and began gently bouncing and shushing the infant as she’d probably seen her mother do countless times before. Muse meanwhile swung her pack from her shoulders and quickly pulled out the pistol and holster. There were a couple of gasps as Muse fixed the holster to her hip, but she ignored them until she’d strapped it on. Then she looked up at all the children around her, and took a deep breath.

“Listen, all of you. The Locust are outside, and it may not be long before they find us- be quiet!” she hissed as several of the younger ones made sounds as though about to wail. “Please, you need to keep quiet or they will find us. Right, I need some of you older ones to find stuff we can block the door with. Empty crates, furniture, even just bits of wood, we need it all to blockade that doorway and make it as hard as we can for them to get in. The rest of you, make a chain up the stairs so we can get what we find, up there.” She pointed to a black-haired girl with dark skin who was mothering some of the younger ones. “You look after the lil'uns, and try to keep them quiet.”

Without a single question, the refugee children obeyed; half of the older ones scattering to find what they could to blockade the door, while the others followed Muse back to the steps, stationing themselves a little apart to form a human chain. The black-haired girl drew the younger children into a corner and began to tell them a story in a low whisper.

Watching them all from the steps, Muse couldn’t help wonder if they would even survive the night.

Outside, the sky was bloody red…

Scorched Earth
None of them slept that entire night. Instead they huddled together in twos and threes, hidden out of sight around the basement. Only Muse remained in plain view; sitting beside the stairwell with the pistol in her lap.

She did this partly because in the event that Locust did come down here she could maybe bottleneck them, and partly because it seemed to reassure the others. They looked to her to protect them now, and she took that extremely seriously.

However, even though they heard the Locust returning to their underground grottos sometime during the night, not one of the children dared moved nor leave the basement until late the next morning, and even then it was with utmost caution.

After dismantling the makeshift barricade they had erected, Muse went first up the steps and quietly unlocked the sliding bolts, easing up one door and peering out. All was quiet and the air was still; the sun beat down much like it had the day before, but it was the only thing which had remained constant.

Muse opened both doors, and climbed out of the stairwell, her hand on the butt of the pistol in its holster, and looked around. Out in the open she discovered that it wasn’t as quiet as she’d first thought; the air was thick with the buzzing of flies, and when Muse crept out to survey the street, she discovered why.

The bodies were everywhere. Every man, woman, and child apart from the small group that had hidden in the basement, lay dead in the street, heaving with clouds of fat, black, flies. Muse turned away, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to stop herself from being sick. The breath was a mistake, as the stench of decay washed over her, made even more potent by the hot, relentless sun.

It was just like that first day after the attack at home, and Muse felt ill.

“Muse?” whispered a voice from the stairwell, “Is it safe?” Muse looked back sharply to see several heads poking up out of the basement doors.

“Don’t come out here.” She warned, her tone was authoritive and allowed for no argument, “Don’t you dare come out here.” She wasn’t about to expose the other children to such horror, and instead vowed to get them as far away as possible, to somewhere safe…

But where was safe now? As her eyes slowly swept the deserted street, Muse realised the futility of their plight. They couldn’t make it to Jacinto on their own… Almost twenty children no older then thirteen getting all that way, when maybe only a handful including herself had any of the sort of stamina and discipline that would be required to make such a journey? Maybe she could have gotten herself and a couple of others there, but nearly twenty? Especially when half of them weren’t even in double digits yet?

No, no, it was impossible, so what were the other options? Muse’s instincts told her to go to ground and bunker down. Find a place that was easily defended, well fortified, and close to a food and water source, and wait. Surely someone would come and find them…

It made sense, and with that plan in mind, Muse went back to the basement where the other survivors were waiting for her. Once again they crowded about the dark-haired girl, all of them wanting to know; what was outside, was it safe, were the Locust gone, were their families alright? Muse flapped her hands at them in an attempt for quiet, her expression looking on the verge of pained;

“One at a time, one at a time,” she insisted, and once they were silent, she sighed and continued; “Yes, the Locust have gone, and yes, it is safe to go outside, but…” and here she paused, wondering how she could possibly tell all those hopeful faces that their families were gone, reduced to food for the flies and their maggot larvae… “…I’m sorry, everyone… we’re on our own…” she whispered softly.

The older children understood what she meant, and though each of them tried to be brave infront of the younger ones, more then a few tears were silently shed. The younger ones themselves didn’t understand, but nevertheless sensed the distress of the others and either began to wail simply because the older children were upset, or when it was explained to them that mummy and daddy weren’t coming to get them…

Muse meanwhile looked on, and suddenly felt much older then her twelve years. When she had been the last survivor of her own home, she had had to mature quickly; now though, with all these others looking to her to lead them, protect them, and take them to a safe place, Muse felt as though she had become an adult in a few moments.

In some ways it allowed her to push away her own doubts and fears, and work on reassuring and encouraging those now in her charge, but on the other hand, it made her feel fatigued and drained…

“So what’re we gonna do now?” One boy with a mop of brown curls asked.

The night before, the surviving refugee children had all introduced themselves, and Muse knew that the boy’s name was Benny. He could have been no more then eight. Muse chewed her lip a moment, forming her plan into coherent words so that she could explain, and then said;

“We can’t make it to Jacinto. There’s no way we’ll be able to survive the trip. We have no supplies, no way to defend ourselves, and no adults… But.” The way she said that single word made every child perk his or her ears, and Muse could almost feel the hope. “But, there’s always a chance that someone will come and find us. It may not be for a long time though, so we have to set up a base, somewhere we can be safe until help arrives, however long that takes.”

Even as she spoke, she could feel the other survivors’ spirits rising; could feel their hope swelling as their sense of adventure, curiosity, and bravery began to push through the fear and uncertainty. There was almost a sense of…glory to it… They would survive this; fighting bravely against all odds, they would survive.

Suddenly one of the older boys, a big lad with a thatch of dark hair and around Muse’s age who called himself Tom, spoke up in an important sort of manner.

“We should elect a leader.” He said. The tone he made the statement in suggested that he wasn’t entirely sure why they needed an official leader of the group, but that it was the appropriate thing to do. As soon as he finished speaking, Amy said quickly;

“I think Muse.” Everyone went quiet and looked at her, including Muse who looked a little bemused to be so openly acknowledged as the authority figure. Amy blushed under the combined gazes. “She saved us.” She finally said, a little defensively. “She didn’t have to, but she saved us. I think she knows how to look after us.”

“Yes!” suddenly piped up another young lad, a blonde seven-year-old named Steven. “I was nearly flattened by all those people running about, but Muse got me and brought me here with the others.” And so it carried on; the children all talking at once about how Muse had retrieved them from various sticky situations.

“She can organise us.” Said the girl who had looked after the younger children the night before - a black-haired and tanned eleven-year-old who had introduced herself as Sara. “Like she did last night.”

Tom listened to all the contributions, nodding in what he appeared to think was a wise and adult way, until finally he said;

“I think it’s settled then, Muse will lead us, which means we have to do what she says.” Agreement came from all sides while Muse continued to be so bewildered as to be rendered mute. Of course, being appointed the official leader of the survivors did help ensure they would listen to her when it was important…

“You will do it,” Amy asked tentatively, breaking into her thoughts, “Won’t you, Muse?” They all looked at her so hopefully… Muse couldn’t do anything but nod, and smile briefly when they beamed at her.

“Alright then,” she said, her voice low and determined. “Then I say we head back to the city, find somewhere we can lay ourselves up that’s close to where we can get food and water, and dig ourselves in.”

The plan was agreed upon, and Muse left the children to organise themselves for the journey while she returned topside to map out a route that would take them past the grisly scene on the street without coming into actual view of it. It took some time, and she had to break down a couple of back fences to do it, but she managed, and quickly returned to the basement while the way was still fresh in her mind.

She returned to find all the younger children wrapped up and Sara carrying Samuel in a sling tied to her chest. The group was ready to leave. Feeling a little nervous, Muse made her first show of true authority as she organised them properly;

“All you lil’uns find a buddy. You’re going to hold your buddy’s hand and not let go, it’ll stop you getting lost.”

The younger children scrambled about to find a partner to hold hands with, and Amy stayed with Sara and her little brother. Once that was done Muse got them all into a crocodile line as though they were at school, and positioned the older ones at intervals on either side of the line so that they could keep the younger children from going the wrong way.

“Everyone ready?” A collective nod in reply. “Good, let’s go.”

Muse turned, and hitching her pack higher on her shoulders, the pistol in the holster firmly strapped to her hip, she led the way up the basement steps, and came out once more into the open.

“Keep your eyes infront for now.” She warned, and then began walking the route she had decided upon that would not take them in view of that street…

When they finally passed the scene of carnage, Muse became noticeably more relaxed and allowed the group of survivors a looser rein - though insisting that they all stay in her sight at all times. A couple of the ten-year-old boys teased her about being Mommy Muse, but did as they were told. As Tom said, she was their leader and they had to listen to her.

After a while Sara came to walk beside Muse as the group of children made their way back along the highway towards the bridge and the city on the other side. Though she was younger then Muse by at least a year, she had an air about her that suggested a much more mature person.

“You’ll do fine.” She said quietly. Muse looked quickly at the tanned girl who still carried Samuel in the sling.

The baby had been mercifully well behaved since the terrible night before; never crying, but just sleeping and having his bottle. Luckily the powered milk that Muse had packed what now seemed an age ago, was suitable for him.

“Come again?” Muse asked, somewhat confused.

Sara smiled slightly, and lowered her voice as the younger children played tag and other such running games under the watchful eyes of the older children.

“You’re worrying you won’t be able to lead us, aren’t you. Worrying about being too stern, not being stern enough, if this is the best course to take…” Muse stared at her in astonishment; the black-haired girl had perfectly voiced her very thoughts. Sara smiled slightly and patted Muse’s arm. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” She repeated.

It was probably from that moment that Sara became Muse’s advisor and confidant in any decisions that needed making.

The children made good time, and came within sight of the bridge before evening began to fall. Muse was more then happy with the progress they’d made; if they carried on like this, they’d enter the city by tomorrow and could start the search for an appropriate place for their base camp.

But as though a curse followed Muse wherever she went, the good fortune was not to last. It was as they reached the petrol station at their end of the bridge, that they heard the sounds of a radio. The younger children, upon hearing the noises, raced back to Muse to tell her, and she broke into a sprint, reaching the station in less then a minute.

Sacrificing caution, Muse burst into the petrol station’s shop and cast about for the source of the radio static and broken voices. She eventually found the small contraption behind the kiosk, and climbed over the counter to retrieve it. When she brought it back outside with her, it was to find all the children clustered together anxiously waiting with breathless anticipation. They crowded around close as Muse tuned it in until they could hear the transmission better.

There was a brief burst of static, but what followed was a message that might as well have been a proclamation of doom…

…The Coalition will employ Sera's entire arsenal of chemical and orbital beam weapons to scorch all Locust infested areas…

It was the voice of a man speaking; a man that was used to being obeyed and was obviously someone of importance and authority.

''…For those citizens who cannot make it to Jacinto, the Coalition appreciates your sacrifice. Please forgive us, this is the only way…''

The transmission went dead, and the pale-faced children warily looked at each other in fearful silence.

“W-what did he mean?” Amy stammered in a petrified whisper. At first Muse made no move to show she’d even heard the question. She knelt in the dust and dirt, the now silent radio before her, and felt the powerlessness of inevitable destruction creep over her. Then, quietly, she spoke.

“They’re going to destroy it…”

“Destroy what?” Benny whimpered.

“…Everything…”

There was utter silence. Muse had said it with such deadpan certainty that it didn’t occur to any of the survivors to question her. Instead they were shaken into silence; too shocked to even cry, and just huddled together in fear of the unstoppable prospect of death. There they would have stayed, frozen in icy terror, had not Muse risen after a moment, her face blank of any emotion except that of resignation.

“I have to see it…”

It was all she could say that voiced her sudden urgent desire to stare her own death in the face instead of cowering when it came for her, and she said no more as she left the group; heading for the nearest house.

After a moment of surprised stillness, Amy rose and followed after Muse, then Sara rose, then Tom, then Benny and Steven and the others, until finally all the surviving refugee children had followed Muse to the door of the abandoned house. They had followed the dark-haired, icy-eyed girl this far, and they weren’t about to leave her now.

They watched her pause at the door for a split second before stepping over the threshold, and silently crept after her as she climbed all the stairs until finally coming out on the roof. It must have once been a garden, but now the pots were smashed and the plants were dead; in a cruel, mocking irony of the childrens’ own fates.

Together the refugees stood on the rooftop as the sun slowly sank beneath the city skyline. In silent stillness they watched the golden beam of light, both beautiful and deadly, come from the dark reaches of space and plunge earthward.

In grim resignation, they watched as their world burned…

Proem
…For -static- ose citizen -static- cannot make it -static- Jacinto', the Coalition -static-'' your sacrifice. Please forgive -static- only way…''

Somehow, we survived the day they burned Sera.

The beam of light struck right in the centre of the city across the gorge, and yet it didn’t reach us, though we felt the shockwave so strong it made the building beneath our feet tremble.

A solid wall of dust like a huge tsunami wave came at us, and we instinctively threw ourselves to the rooftop. But after a couple of seconds of being stung by sand, deafened by the roar, and blinded by the dust, it passed us over and we rose, more or less unharmed…

After the shock of realising we had made it when we had been so certain our time was up, I convinced the others to hold with the plan and return to the city. Even though the Coalition had used their orbital beam weapons, it was not completely annihilated, and I was sure we had the best chance of survival if we went back.

Four of us died on the way.

Angela was fatally injured by Wretches after we got within the city limits. Jacob fell into one of the seemingly endless cracks created by the Locust. Michael was taken by Kryll one night a few days after we reached the city. And Samuel… little baby Samuel caught a vicious fever as we searched for a place we could rebuild as a base camp. Despite everything we did to save him, he died soon after…

Their deaths will haunt me for as long as I live. No matter what anyone says, no matter if I find a place where the others will be safe and I spend the rest of my existent protecting these people; those four children under my care were killed because of me, because of the decisions I made, and I will always feel responsible…

And then, eventually, we found it. After all the sorrow, the fear, and the uncertainty, we found a place where we could build defences, where we would find a source of clean water and food, where we could form a refugee camp until someone came and rescued us. We were certain of this in the beginning; certain that the COG would send someone to look for survivors, and we would be rescued.

Even as the days turned to weeks and then months, we still continued to hope, but all in vain. They didn’t come to find us, and finally we realised that they weren’t going to. We realised that we had been hoping with children’s naivety, and children’s faith that the adults wouldn’t abandon us.

But they did. And it was that day we stopped being children, we stopped being refugees.

We became ‘the Stranded’.

I remember that my father always used to say that the Coalition of Ordered Governments had a code, a set of guiding principles that were the backbone of the organisation. He said them so many times that I still remember them.

Order, Diligence, Purity, Labour, Honour, Loyalty, Faith, and Humility.

And with these eight moral values that the Coalition so highly prized, was the belief of Unity. Unity, they said, was the key to triumph; pulling together to defeat a common enemy, working together, fighting together…

If Unity is so important, then how come the COG left us, a group of children no older then thirteen, to fend for ourselves?

No food.

No shelter.

No protection from the Locust nor the elements.

How was that Unity when they left us out here while they scorched Sera?

Unity is a joke. The COG’s so called ‘moral values’ are a joke. I saw the chaos when the Locust first appeared; there was no Order, there was only blood, and death, and madness. Diligence? Purity? Labour? Honour? Loyalty? They were all discarded as soon as it became too hard for them to help the refugees that hadn’t reached Jacinto.

Faith… I had once had faith. I had faith that the COG, that no-one, could leave defenceless children to the Locust. They did. I had faith that my father would come home, and Dominic would come and find me, like they’d promised. They didn’t.

I had faith that the COG would try to rescue us. They didn’t. Instead they threw us to the wolves.

Humility. I’m not even sure if they know what that word means anymore. We managed to find a working radio, and we heard all the grand speeches of the COG brass. We heard the promises they made, the rallying words… But to us they were all lies… the words of proud men safe from the Locust in Jacinto.

They didn’t know what it was like to be afraid every waking moment that the Locust would come out of the dark and brutally slaughter us all. They didn’t know what it was like to have to work every single day to get water, enough to eat, to just see tomorrow.

They didn’t help us. They didn’t care we were out here fighting to survive. They left us when it became too much effort and we were just unwanted baggage. They simply forgot us because it was easier that way. They sacrificed us for their own peace of mind…

We weren’t Stranded…

…We were Abandoned.

Stray Dogs
“So how does it feel to be a war hero again, Marcus?”

Dominic Santiago grinned at his friend, Delta Squad had just received their commendations for ‘saving the world’ with the Lightmass Bomb offensive.

“Same as when I was a convict.” Marcus Fenix growled, cranky as ever. He was at the stage when a medal really didn’t make up for all the lives lost in the fight, especially when the four years he’d spent in Jacinto’s maximum security was still fresh in his mind.

A moment later and the Sergeant felt a punch on the back of his shoulder and Augustus Cole almost jumped on his back with his usual enthusiasm.

“Lighten up, baby!” the huge black man bellowed, “The Cole Train sees some easy cruisin’ ahead!”

“We did just save the world,” Came the cynical voice of Damon Baird as he appeared next to Dom, “They should give us a big fat leave.”

“Sorry to disappoint you all, but Command already has a new assignment for you.” The men turned to face the speaker; Anya Stroud coming towards them down the corridor. Marcus’ expression mellowed when he saw her - minutely.

“Hey Anya.”

“Marcus.” She beamed, then her expression sobered. “I’m sorry to have to cut your leave short before it’s even started,” she tried to soften the blow by smiling slightly as she said; “You're Command’s new golden boys.”

“Great,” Baird muttered, “I think I’d have preferred the vacation…” Dom elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up. Marcus scowled at him, then turned to Anya again.

“What do they want us to do?”

Anya glanced down at the data-slate in her hands, tapping the screen with a stylus. “There’s reports of something interfering with the Tac Com in this area of the Vidandear metropolis.” She showed them the slate displaying the relevant information.

“Is it a Seeder?” Marcus grunted.

“No, it’s not like that. The signals aren’t being blocked, it’s more like they’re being crossed. Squads and King Ravens passing the area have experienced transmissions that haven’t come from us or any of our people. Command are worried if it’s Locust, and we can hear their chatter, they can hear ours. They want you to go and check it out.”

“Course,” Marcus nodded, “We’ll get on it.” He heard Baird groan quietly from behind, but pointedly ignored him. Anya meanwhile, nodded and left them.

“I don’t believe this…” Baird muttered mutinously once she was out of sight, “We just saved the freakin’ world and they’re sending us out before we’ve even had a chance to sleep…”

“Yeah, it sucks man,” Dom agreed, but in a much better mood then the blonde, “But that’s what we get. When’re we shipping out Marcus?”

“Right now.” Came the gruff reply.

And not long after, the four members of Delta Squad had boarded a King Raven and were flying straight towards the once thriving metropolis of Vidandear. Cole, who had never done well with motion sickness, sat with his head between his knees feeling sick, while beside him Baird edged as far away as the seat allowed.

“Awww man, I feel like I’m gonna barf…” the black Gear moaned.

“If you’re gonna blow chunks Cole, at least turn the other way.” Marcus muttered across from the ex-Thrashball player. Keeping his head between his knees, Cole waved a hand vaguely.

“Don’t worry, baby, the Cole Train always makes it through.”

“Just keep breathin’, man.” Dom said, attempting to be helpful.

“Yeah, yeah…” the chopper bounced with some particularly nasty turbulence and Cole went faintly green.

“Oh God, please don’t hurl.” Baird moaned. To Delta’s Locust and tech expert, the flight to Vidandear couldn’t end soon enough.

Mercifully though, the helicopter reached Delta’s destination before Cole had a chance to empty his stomach and once his feet were again on solid ground, his sickness evaporated and he became his usual over-enthusiastic self.

“Just show me the Locust, baby!” he yelled.

“Actually,” Baird put in, his tone verging on superciliousness, “Vidandear is one of the quieter places where Locust activity is concerned. The orbital weapons used after E-Day makes it hard from them to come up here.” Cole looked downcast as his chances of getting to blow away some of the ugly-ass mutants were severely reduced. “Sorry, man.”

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Marcus growled as the group set off through the half-ruined and dilapidated streets, “With our luck, today’s the day the Locust decide to come up…”

The Raven had dropped them just outside the area where the most interference activity had been reported, but it became instantly obvious when Delta entered the hot zone as immediately the squad Tac Com buzzed with white noise and then a voice filtered through.

Base, this is delta omega gamma, six, three, and eight, we have Gears on the approach, please advise.

The voice was a young male, and though the transmission sounded almost military, the speaker was obviously a civilian, a Stranded.

“Keep moving.” Marcus warned in a low, gravelly voice, “Don’t give them any sign we know they’re there.”

This is Alpha Leader, I got you Dogs, what direction are they coming in?

The answering voice was female and had a subtle tone of authority, obviously she was in charge of whatever militia these Stranded had cobbled together.

Heading towards the north gate, what should we do?

''Trail them, keep an eye on them, but don’t open fire. Repeat do not open fire, we don’t need that sort of attention.''

''Copy that Alpha Leader. Stray Dog Six over and out.''

Abruptly the communiqué cut off, and the members of Delta glanced at each other, still moving at the same pace they had been before they had intercepted the transmissions between these ‘Stray Dogs’.

“Well they’re not Locust, at least.” Dom murmured. “I didn’t know there were any Stranded out here…” It was obvious that his mind was on Maria and if these Stranded had seen her.

“Hrm.” Marcus grunted non-committally.

“Whadda we do, baby?” Cole asked, miraculously keeping his voice low enough that the watching Dogs didn’t hear him. Marcus was silent for a while, then.

“We keep going, find out what we can about these Stranded.” No one argued with him, and the four Gears kept moving.

After a while they reached what was obviously a fortified gate to a rather small Stranded camp. Unlike the previous Stranded they’d come across where the gatekeepers were sat above the door in clear view, the guards of this gate were behind a couple of sandbag barricades. One had a Lancer, the other a Longshot, both obviously scavenged, and both pointing at the approaching Gears.

Standing infront of the solid wall of metal that formed the gate, obviously waiting for them, was a rather short figure obscured by some kind of black, hooded poncho. He or she was armed with a Locust Hammerburst, and didn’t look friendly. The figure spoke as soon as the Gears were near enough;

“Your kind aren’t welcome here.”

The voice was blunt, female, and young; only mid to late twenties, and a sense of familiarity nagged at both Dom and Marcus at the sound of it other then the fact she had been the voice of ‘Alpha Leader’. Ignoring the sensation Marcus stepped closer, hefting his Lancer in a way that wasn’t threatening, but made it clear he could be at a moment’s notice. The young woman’s gloved hands tightened on the Hammerburst; she had recognised the subtle signal.

“We’re not here to pick fights.” Marcus told her, “We just wanted to know what was crossing with our Tac Com.”

“Well now you can go back and tell the COG it was just some Stranded.” The young woman replied with bitter shortness.

“Hey, enough with the attitude.” Marcus growled. He was so sick and tired of getting absolutely no respect without having to work his ass off for it, and he wasn’t about to let some brat talk to him like this. The young woman was silent for a moment, and then she was right up close to him and they would have been nose to nose if she hadn’t only just come up to his chest in height.

“Wrong, Gear.” She snarled softly at him, “This is my turf, and I don’t have to do a damn thing for you. So get the hell out.” With which the young woman spun on her heel and made to re-enter the Stranded camp. However before she could take more then one step, Dom was unable to ignore the nagging sense of familiarity any longer and stepped past Marcus, closer to the hooded girl.

“Do I know you?” the Latino asked the young woman quietly, his dark eyebrows drawn together over brown eyes. Though he couldn’t actually see the young woman’s eyes, he sensed her gaze on him when she paused and the hooded face glanced over her shoulder. There was a silence.

“Why would a Gear know a Stranded.”

“Take off the hood.”

Another pause, and then, instead of blatantly refusing as Marcus and the others had expected, the girl mutely did as she was asked; tugging down the thick black hood to reveal a pale face shaded beneath a camo coloured cap. The young woman had long dark hair in a thick rope plait, and eyes the colour of green and blue ice.

The face was different, but Dom instantly recognised those eyes.

“Muse?” He said the name as though hardly daring to believe it. “Is that really you?” The young woman’s expression however, betrayed nothing one way or the other; not recognition of the Gear before her, nor confusion as to why a stranger knew her name. Dom however, had a huge grin on his face. “Muse, it’s me, Dom.”

There was a silence, and then in a quiet voice she murmured;

“I know who you are…”

Before Dom even had a chance to be confused by her odd tone, Muse had suddenly turned back to the Gear, and the barrel of a Snub pistol was pressed to his forehead.

“I should blow you brains out, Dominic Santiago.” She growled, her eyes burning with a complicated mixture of emotions that didn’t seem to be sure of themselves; hate, fear, anger, misery, hopelessness, betrayal… The rest of Delta Squad had their guns instantly trained on the Stranded girl, but neither she nor Dom noticed that as all their attention was focussed on the other.

“I tried to find you at Jacinto.” Dom said calmly - astonishingly calmly for one that had a gun to his head.

“Jacinto?” Muse snorted, then her voice dropped to a furious whisper. “I didn’t even make it to Jacinto, none of the refugees you left me with made it. The convoy was attacked by the Locust,” Her voice trembled with emotion, caught between rage and upset, “And they killed… they killed everyone, all except a bunch of kids not even in their teens, and half of them weren’t even in double digits!”

She was breathing hard now, the emotions she’d obviously kept locked up all this time were welling up and breaking free; unpredictably rising in a fury, only to come crashing down again in guilt-ridden misery… and all because of Dominic Santiago…

Around them, the other members of Delta Squad slowly lowered their Lancers. Somehow, they knew that this Muse wouldn’t pull the trigger no matter how distressed she became. Her fury seemed to ebb and flow with her grief; rising up like a tidal wave, only to just as quickly become a trickle. She could have been bi-polar just shy of schizophrenic, but there seemed something…broken…in her… something that couldn’t just murder a person after she’d seen so much pointless savagery and carnage.

By now Muse’s voice had become strained and cracked as she tried to hold it together while the memories of what she had experienced washed through her, inexorably as the tide…

“And then the government scorched the entire planet and we were caught in the middle… A group of terrified children… Do you have any idea what that’s like? Do you? To see your death coming at you with no way to defend yourself… To see the utter terror on the faces of those you swore to protect, and yet not be able to do a damn thing about it… To think you’ve failed in your responsibilities and it’s all your fault… Do you have any idea what that can do to a child?”

The words were tumbling out of her; words that she must have held in for over fourteen years while they grew bitterer and bitterer inside her. Now the rage was dwindling and the grief and the bitterness drenched her every word with poison.

“But we survived, by some miracle we survived, and we came back here… and four of us died on the way… Because the COG couldn’t be bothered to even look, four kids died, and one of them wasn’t even a year old… But we still came back, and we waited, because we were so sure that the COG would rescue us, that they couldn’t possibly leave us out here to fend for ourselves… but they did… they left us… they abandoned almost a score of kids under thirteen… So excuse me if I’m not thrilled to see you…”

The pistol against Dom’s brow was shaking slightly by now, but Muse’s grip on it was firm. The Latino Gear still didn’t flinch nor bat an eyelid, just watched her face through her outpour of anguished, guilty, rage… She wouldn’t do it, he knew that much. She could hate him and want to see him dead, but she wouldn’t be able to shoot him; she felt guilty enough for the blood of those four children that she saw staining her hands, and she hadn’t even been able to do anything to prevent their deaths. She couldn’t murder someone in cold blood…

“Muse…” he said quietly, calmly, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry you had to go through that… no-one should have to suffer what you have, especially not a child… If squeezing that trigger will make you feel any better, then do it…”

Dom felt the gun against his skin shake even more erratically, but then it was abruptly removed as Muse dropped her arm to hang loosely by her side. The emotional turmoil was gone, or at least well-hidden once more, and for a moment the Gear and Stranded just stared unblinkingly at each other. Then Muse turned.

“Open the gate!”

The huge, heavy metal gate ground open on runners embedded into the stone floor, and she slipped through the gap. She faced the COG soldiers again as the massive gate began to slide closed, and her next words were delivered as coldly as her icy eyes.

“We won’t stop you from leaving, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave us alone and not come back.”

The metal door clanged shut.

At first Dom didn’t move, his eyes riveted on the gunmetal grey of the solid gate, but then he felt Marcus’ hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at his friend. The other Gear had a strange expression on his face as he remembered that little girl now; who had argued with him on the King Raven, who had clung to Dom like a limpet when she’d awoken from her nightmare…

And she had grown into that bitter young woman that had just left them. The thought of how she had actually gotten that way was sickening, and it showed on Marcus’ face.

“C’mon Dom…” he growled in a low, gravelly voice, “Come away… we can’t help those that don’t want it…”

After a moment Dom mutely nodded, and the two Gears turned away to head back the way they’d come. Behind them Cole and Baird shared a glance of surprise and confusion before following…

Emergence
It started to rain soon after the Gears left. Muse took up her shift on gate watch, and sat motionless in the downpour, silently brooding. Dominic Santiago was on her mind and it was over he whom which she brooded; had he but arrived at the camp a few years earlier, he would have been welcomed with open arms… but now he just brought back unwanted memories, and roused emotions that Muse thought she’d gotten under control… anger… bitterness… betrayal…

Over the years they’d been here, it had become obvious that Muse was a natural soldier and guardian, but not much of a leader in general. True, she’d been the one that had gotten the surviving refugees into that basement that had saved them from the Locust, and she had been the one to lead them here; keeping them together and keeping them going when otherwise they’d have given up and lain down in the dust.

But she had a military mind that could only really lead in times of war. Once the children reached this place and had completed the building of the camp, Muse’s way of organising them had became somewhat redundant. The survivors were no longer in an all-out warzone, and they didn’t need to be marshalled so much as they needed to be guided. They no longer needed to be pushed and have someone take command and make decisions for them, they needed someone to keep the peace, to uphold what social niceties and justice system they had.

And so after a couple of years, once the camp had been completed and fortified to Muse’s satisfaction, and their group was as safe from the Locust as they could possibly be; Muse had stepped down from the position of leadership, and in a vague sense of democracy, the rest of the survivors - mostly teenagers now - had voted in a new leader that would be more suited to leading in a time of relative peace.

The vote had gone to a lad named Jonathan who was of a similar age to Muse, though a little older as he’d turned thirteen not long after the attack on the convoy.

He was smart in ways that Muse was not. He could keep the Stranded teens together and unified, he could solve disputes and be diplomatic, and he could organise the Stranded children in a way that didn’t require the harshness of Muse’s military precision.

With Jonathan in charge, Muse had taken over the matter of defence for the camp. She had overseen the fortifications, trained the Stray Dogs as best she could from what she remembered of her father’s explanations, and led them on scavenger trips to find guns, ammunition, and the means of communication that would allow them to coordinate both attacks and defences should the need arise.

She had protected this camp and it’s Stranded with everything she had, they had even managed to beat back some of the small incursions of Locust that had strayed into their sector. And up until now Muse had managed to convince herself that she was doing a good job, that she was aiding in keeping the Stranded of this camp alive with her talents, that she was fulfilling the responsibly of guardian that she taken upon herself ever since that day the convoy was attacked.

But seeing Dom again… it had reminded her of all the times she had failed; of the people who had died because of her, as a consequence of her decisions, or because she was not fast enough or strong enough.

Those four children that had died because of her convincing the group of survivors to come back to the city. That Locust attack she was unprepared for that had resulted in the deaths of several of the Stranded under her care. The group that had travelled so far to join them that she hadn’t gotten to in time before the Locust slaughtered them…

And for all these deaths, it was she who was responsible…

“Sara said you were at it again.” The mild voice was part amused, part exasperated, and brought Muse out of her black mood. She looked up to see a pretty young blonde in her early twenties standing there.

“Hrm? What?” Amy sighed and sat down next to her.

“You’re brooding again aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. When Muse said nothing, Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What are you like, Museli, we’ve all told you to cut it out with the depression already…” That prompted a smile to tug at the corner of the other young woman’s mouth.

“Must you use that nickname? It’s a breakfast cereal for crying out loud.”

Amy grinned briefly, then became serious again. “But you were doing the melancholy guilt-trip brooding thing again, weren’t you…”

“What if I was?” Muse sighed tiredly.

“Is it something to do with those Gears that were here earlier?”

“Hrn.”

Again Amy sighed. When Muse made that particular non-committal sound, it was a sign she wasn’t going to divulge any more information on the present topic no matter how much she was pestered.

“Well Sara asked me to tell you to stoppit and to give you this.” She gave Muse a thermos of hot soup. Muse took it gratefully and held it between her palms to warm her hands.

“Thanks Amy… and tell Sara thanks as well… you better get inside before you catch a cold.” In response, Amy groaned dramatically,

“You’re too overprotective, you know that? Besides, what about you catching your death sitting out here in this? I swear Muse, you take on too much, you don’t need to be so obsessed with defending us you know…” her voice softened, “And it’s silly to keep blaming yourself for everything, just cut it out.” Having said what she’d come to say, Amy rose to leave.

It was just as she got up that they both heard the rumble. Amy looked up at the sky with a mildly concerned frown.

“Was that thunder?”

Muse didn’t answer, and when the blonde looked at her friend, she saw that Muse had wrenched down her hood and was crouching with the fingers of one hand lightly touching the metal of the catwalk above the gate while the other hand rested on her knee. Tense and motionless, she was ignoring the cold rain water soaking her hair and sliding down her neck and cheeks.

“Muse?”

“That wasn’t thunder…”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth then they heard another rumble, this one much closer and louder then the first so much so that they felt it vibrating the metal beneath their feet, and in a moment of spiralling horror, Amy realised what Muse had feared. The rumbling did not come from above as it would if it were thunder. Instead it came from below, which could mean only one thing…

Locust.

Immediately Muse dived for the siren to sound the alarm even as Amy scrambled down from the catwalk above the gate to spread the warning. The siren was a gramophone-shaped device that emitted a loud wail when the handle on the side of the box was turned and Muse spun it as fast as she could, making the alarm siren howl through the entire camp.

Immediately, all around the camp, everything was dropped as the Stranded inhabitants followed what they’d practiced during the attack drills. The handful that were Stray Dogs took up arms and headed for the gate while the non-combatant members of the camp scurried to take cover in the various safe rooms the survivors had built.

Meanwhile Muse got on the comm and broadcasted a distress call to all the Dogs that were out on patrol or scavenger hunts.

''This is Alpha Leader calling all the Stray Dogs! Base is under attack by the Locust! Repeat, this is Alpha Leader calling all the Stray Dogs! The base is under attack by the Locust, we need backup ASAP!''

Even as she finished the mayday transmission, the rumbling from beneath the ground had come closer and become even more violent; causing a constant vibration through her feet. As though in a nightmare, Muse slowly turned to look out over the wide street outside the north gate of the camp, and before her eyes several sections of the roadway began to shake, and then collapsed completely as over a dozen Locust emergence holes broke the surface. Immediately the roars of the invading monsters reached the horrified woman’s ears and ripped her out of her trance.

Muse quickly swung herself down from the gate and called the gathering Stray Dogs to her. They looked pale and scared but determined, and Muse hesitated; what if she was sending these men and women to their deaths as well?

But that was what they were here for; those that had been part of the original group of children that Muse had led here, and those from the Stranded that had travelled here to join them, who had volunteered. Each of them had known the risks then and they knew them now, but they wanted to defend their friends and families, their homes and the lives they’d built here, if those things weren’t worth dying for, then what was?

Swiftly Muse organised the Dogs into pairs and assigned each pair their posts; herself and a slightly younger dark-haired lad named Joe at the barricades on the catwalk above the gate.

Crouching behind the sandbags, Muse loaded her Longshot. After the Snub which she’d had with her since being twelve, this rifle that she’d pilfered from a Locust sniper years ago was what she had developed the most affinity for over the years of being a Stranded. The pistol and Longshot along with the Hammerburst she’d armed herself with when going out to meet the Gears formed the two main gun and sidearm set of weapons that she insisted all the Stray Dogs carry wherever they went.

Now she readied herself; pulling the orange-lens goggles - which had been taken from the same Locust sniper as the gun - from around her neck and slipping them over her eyes. The E-holes had erupted at the far end of the street and the first Locust Drones had just passed the halfway point down the avenue leading to the Stranded camp, when Muse sighted along her scope.

“Hold steady, Dogs…” she murmured into the comm hooked over her ear. The rain was heavy now; severely impairing visibility and making aiming much, much harder. They’d have to hold until the Locust came close enough to be clearer targets…

“Steady…”

The huge pale beasts continued to approach blithely in full view, as though they didn’t know that several reticules and crosshairs were being pointed at them, or else putting too much trust in the grey curtain of rain that half obscured them.

They soon realised their folly as Muse roared; “OPEN FIRE!”

Immediately the air was filled with gunfire; the screaming stutter of Lancers and Hammerbursts, the blast of Gnashers, and the bitten off bangs of three Longshots. The first wave of Locust fell under the hail of bullets, but the others dived behind the cover provided by the car wrecks and chunks of masonry that littered the wide street.

Muse felt her heart sink as she saw the sheer number of the enemy that they were facing. This wasn’t just a patrol or squad that had strayed too close to the Stranded camp, or some raiding party on a scavenging mission. These Locust had come specifically to attack this camp…

She didn’t even have time to wonder why such a large force would be sent to attack Stranded, as the Locust then returned fire. Muse immediately took cover behind the sandbags that protected her from the barrage, and felt them shudder under the assault.

Over the comm she heard three separate death screams as Stray Dogs fell…

As soon as there was a lull in enemy fire and Joe was providing some cover fire from his automatic Lancer, Muse once again leaned out, and fired her Longshot. The target Drone’s head exploded in a firework of blood, bone, and brain matter, and the body slowly fell over. Muse ducked back behind cover and reloaded.

However it soon became obvious that there were just too many of the Locust and with a horrible sinking feeling of inevitability, Muse realised that it was only a matter of time before the camp was overrun… The thought made anger blaze up inside her and she switched from the Longshot to the Hammerburst; forget finesse, she wanted to fill something with lead.

It was just as she’d emptied one of the Hammerburst’s clips and was reloading, that she heard an entirely different kind of roar to that of the Locust’s, swiftly followed by the shriek of a chainsaw… Thinking for a horrible moment that the Stray Dogs that had been out on patrol had arrived and proceeded to just dive in to engage the enemy, Muse quickly looked out from behind her barricade.

There were indeed more Stray Dogs on the battlefield, hiding behind debris behind the actual Locust holes, but it wasn’t them that Muse had heard, and she was just in time looking out to see none other then one of the Gears from earlier hacking into a huge Locust with his Lancer’s chainsaw… A quick glance over the rest of the warzone revealed the three other Gears, all neck-deep in combat with the Locust enemy.

Thought we’d just ignore your call for help, kid? Came Marcus' gravelly tones over the Stray Dogs’ comms. Muse almost sobbed with relief, but instead managed to reply.

“Marcus Fenix, am I glad to hear you.”

''Yeah, that’s what I thought… Cole! Close those grub holes!''

YEAH BABY! Screamed another voice in response, ''TAKE THAT SUCKERS! WHOO!''

And barely moments later grenades were exploding and the ground shook again as the emergence tunnels collapsed; burying the Locust that were still coming up to join the fight. Cheers came from the Stray Dogs and they fought with renewed vigour with hope once more in sight.

However it soon became clear they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Hey, what’s that?” Muse turned to Joe just in time to see something small and cylinder-shaped embed itself into his shoulder and explode a couple of seconds later; throwing Muse back and covering her with blood and strips of flesh. For a second she could only gape at the bloody smear where Joe had once been, and then scrambled to look out from behind the barricade.

It could have been a Drone, except that it seemed smarter, nastier, and much better equipped with red armour and some kind of mechanised crossbow. And it was aiming another one of its small, cylindrical bolts…

“What the hell is that!?” Moments later, Muse heard Marcus viciously swear.

''…Dammit… Dom! Theron Guard!''

Aw man, not those guys again, think we can convince them we’re sellin’ cookies this time, Marcus?

Muse heard Marcus snort and growl ‘not likely’, before ordering Delta Squad to make disposing the Theron their first priority. It turned out to be easier said then done as the single Theron evaded their attempts to put it down and then commanded the other Drones to swamp the Gears, all the while wreaking devastation with its weapon. However, it then made the mistake of turning its back to the Stranded camp, obviously deeming them less of a threat then the Gears of Delta Squad.

Muse would make it pay for such an assumption.

“Snipers! Aim for the red one’s head, we fire together!” Once she heard the affirmatives from the two other soldiers that wielded Longshots, Muse sighted her scope on the back of the Theron’s head. “Ready, in three…two…one… fire!”

Simultaneously the three sniper rounds were fired, and simultaneously they struck the back of the Theron’s head. One round alone would have left the Theron with maybe a severe headache and a ringing in its ears, but three all at the same time was just too much for it, and its head exploded in a plume of fine red and grey. It fell.

After that the rest of the Locust Drones proved to be little of a problem to dispatch, and soon there were only corpses scattering the wide street and the wounds in the roadway of the sealed emergence holes.

The Stray Dogs were ecstatic; cheering, screaming, hugging, they had survived the impossible, and won the right to see another day. The gates were rolled open as those of the Stranded versed in medical skills went to see to the human injured, each accompanied by a couple of the Stray Dogs just to be on the safe side. Those that had hidden in the safe rooms while the battled had raged, came out to join the celebration, and Muse left the camp and approached the Gears.

They were covered in gore but looked no worse for wear, and Muse went over to them, slightly wary. But the nod of appreciation and gratitude she shot in Marcus’ direction received one in return, and some of the tension was eased. Still, Muse stood a little distance from them, the Hammerburst on her back, Snub pistol securely in its holster, and the Longshot resting on her shoulder.

There was a moment’s silence, and then;

“Come and get cleaned up, we owe you something to eat and a bed for the night.”

Again Marcus nodded, and with a silent gesture to Delta, followed Muse back to the Stranded camp and the celebrations.

Friction
It had been far too long since he’d had a proper shower.

Damon Baird leaned his hands on the side of the cubicle, and let the torrent of warm water hit his back. A soft moan escaped him at how indecently good such a simple thing could feel, and arched his neck slightly so that the thundering water could beat the knots of tension from his shoulders. It was beyond him how these Stranded had managed to salvage enough to build several private shower rooms all with hot running water, but found he really didn’t care and just wanted to make the most of it while he was able.

Eventually though, he was cleaner then he had been in months and felt completely relaxed, and though it loathed him to do so, he forced himself out of the shower.

His armour, and the black reinforced one-piece he wore underneath, were nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t worry him. He’d washed them of organic gunk before getting into the shower himself, and while he’d been enjoying the facilities, someone had come in and a female voice had told him she was going to take his things so they could be dried away from the damp of the showers.

It was only now as he turned off the water and stepped out of the cubicle that Baird wondered what exactly he was meant to wear in the meantime. However upon exiting the shower he found his combat vest and fatigues cleaned, dried, and folded, sitting next to a stack of warm towels on the bench across from the shower, his boots underneath it on the floor, all just waiting for him.

Damn, they treat us better then the COG… He thought fleetingly as he dried himself.

Baird pulled on his clothes and left the shower room rubbing his hair with a towel; dropping it and all the others he’d used, into the laundry basket by the door as he passed. He had to admit as he left the Water Works block and entered the main compound of the camp, that these Stranded knew what they were doing.

The camp itself was a strange one when compared to the others he’d seen; built more like a fortress then a temporary refugee camp, it was home to only a few people numbering less then a hundred, and between them they had constructed quite an impressive base.

It was situated at the far end of a cul-de-sac, backed by a circle of sturdy buildings that the Stranded had managed to rebuild and fortify. The north gate completely cut off the cul-de-sac from the wide road that led down to it, and was well defended and constantly manned by armed Stray Dogs.

The cul-de-sac itself must have at one point been completely open to the sky, but now half of it was sheltered by a sturdy roof of wood and scarp metal, and the rest of the rebuilt buildings around the camp had been converted into what the Stranded had needed to survive.

Across from the north gate was a section which had been dubbed the War Rooms, and apparently housed all the Stray Dogs’ salvaged weapons, armour, ammunitions, and the medical and fortification supplies and equipment. Adjacent to the War Rooms on one side was the Water Works block that Baird had just left, which comprised of the showering rooms, the water store, the washing rooms, and the basic purification system the Stranded had rigged up. Next to that was the Produce and Store Rooms which was where the inhabitants of the camp stored whatever food products they’re scavenged, and where they even grew some of their own in green house-like structures.

Adjacent to the War Rooms on the opposite side was the southern gate which was as equally defended as the north one, and next to that was the row of buildings that had been converted into living quarters.

All in all, the Stranded of this camp had done rather well for themselves.

However the cooperative industry and unity it must have taken to complete the camp was apparently not always present, as Baird found out when he came among the various cooking fires under the wood and scrap metal roofing. The Stranded inhabitants were clustered in groups around the fires; preparing what appeared to be the evening meal, but the otherwise quiet and peaceful - though wet and rainy - evening was broken by voices raised in anger.

The blonde looked over to where the commotion was coming from, and saw the girl that Dom knew, Muse, and a lad who must had been about the same age as her, ferociously arguing; the boy gesturing wildly. He couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but both their body language suggested they’d been at it for a while now and neither were giving any signs of letting up. Out of the two though, Baird noted that Muse appeared the more furious.

The other Stranded of the camp were obviously attempting to act as if the raging dispute wasn’t happening, but kept their own conversations to low murmurs nonetheless so they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves. He noticed that several of them kept glancing uneasily and accusingly in his direction.

“Hey, Damon,” called a familiar voice suddenly, “Over here, man.”

Baird looked round to see the other Gears of Delta Squad sitting around their own fire - apart from the Stranded in such a way that made it obvious they could sense they weren’t welcome - and Dom was beckoning to him. Baird went over to join them.

“Anyone know what the row’s about?” he asked as he sat down next to Cole, keeping his voice low as they were doing and gesturing with a jerk of his head towards the young man and woman still at loggerheads.

“Apparently the kid didn’t clear it with the guy in charge before letting us in here…” Marcus growled. “And now she’s getting chewed out for doing it without his say so.”

Baird snorted in anger and irritation, “Oh yeah that’s nice, what a way to treat the guys that just saved their asses from the Locust.”

“I don’t think it’s just the guy in charge that’s not happy Muse invited us back, either.” Dom added quietly.

The Gears glanced back towards where the Stranded were gathered around their own fires, and saw the dark, wary looks that were being shot in their direction.

“Shouldn’t be surprised really.” Marcus grunted, though he too sounded a little put out with their reception. Of course, it was common knowledge that Stranded held no love for Gears, but he would have thought that after Delta had risked their own necks to help these Stranded out, that they’d have been received with a little less hostility and not be so obviously shunned.

Was a little gratitude too much to ask?

“Sometimes I wonder why we bother,” Baird continued to gripe; “We never get any thanks, and they’re never grateful. Next time I say we leave them to it…”

“Aw, that’s not fair, baby,” Cole defended jovially, clapping his much smaller friend on the shoulder, “Muse is grateful, you can tell she is, or why would she be arguing so hard?”

“Maybe she just doesn’t like being chewed out.” Baird muttered mutinously.

Before Cole could even open his mouth to reply, Muse’s voice suddenly carried clearly over to them, even though they were almost on the opposite side of the covered part of the camp to her.

“I DON’T FREAKIN’ BELIEVE THIS, JONATHAN!” She was roaring as though she had lungs made of brass and leather rather then anything organic, “They come back to help us when they’re under no obligation to, and this is the thanks they get!? What the hell does that say about us!?”

“What I don’t understand is why the hell you’re suddenly all for the Gears when they left us stranded out here!” the boy named Jonathan snapped back, “You’re the one that’s always saying the COG’s moral principles are all propaganda!”

“EXACTLY, YOU IDJIT!” Muse bellowed, “The Coalition of Ordered Governments were the ones that left us out here! Not the freakin’ Gears! Get it through your thick skull and just THINK already! They just saved us, and have they gotten an ounce of gratitude!? NO! Have they even gotten a simple thank you!? NO! And you’re begrudging them a meal and a bed for the night!? THAT’S THE BLOODY LEAST WE CAN DO AFTER THEY JUST SAVED OUR LIVES!”

With that Muse turned her back on the gaping Jonathan and stomped across to the Produce and Store Rooms block while the eyes of all those in the camp followed her with astonishment. No one attempted to stop her, and she passed unhindered.

Apparently Muse’s temper was infamous and something to be avoided…

The Gears, who had watched the scene just as the shocked Stranded had, looked at each other with various expressions on their faces; Marcus’ eyebrows were raised at Muse’s vehement defence of himself and his squad, Dom looked unsurprised but a little uncomfortable that their presence had caused such a rift to form between the Stranded. Baird just looked bewildered by the sudden turn of events, so much so that when Cole grinned triumphantly and nudged him with a ‘see, told you so’, he didn’t even have a smart retort…

As the Stranded’s shocked silence gave way to low murmuring and then finally to quiet talk, Dom rose to his feet, prompting confused glances from his squadmates.

“I’m going to talk to Muse.” The Latino said in answer to all their unspoken questions. Baird opened his mouth as though to discourage him, but Cole elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Marcus merely nodded and grunted ‘good luck’.

Without another word Dom left the fireside, and headed for the Produce and Store Rooms.

Meanwhile Muse wandered restlessly up and down the rows of garden tubs in the produce block, checking up on the plants and vegetables growing in the rich soil while she silently fumed. Each tub was a couple of metres long, filled with compost that had been found by the scavenger teams who weren’t on weapons detail, and had a metal stand that brought it up to about the same height as an average dinner table.

Though she stopped at every tub to check on the various growing things, Muse hardly took anything in; her mind still too full of fury at Jonathan’s idiocy. In hindsight, maybe attempting to do something constructive while she was so inattentive was a bad idea, but she needed to be alone and away from everyone else while she wrestled with her rage.

And that was another thing; what was wrong with her lately? She was so easily angered these days, and it was an explosive, violent anger that she didn’t like. At first she would have blamed Dom’s presence for her mood swings, but as she thought about it now, she realised that they’d started happening long before the Gear had even turned up…

At least the rages dwindled as quickly as they came; even now she could feel her annoyance at Jonathan waning, leaving only a drained fatigue in its wake from both the energy she had expounded in the argument and also in the battle before…

Now that she had time to think about that without needing to distance herself to keep her head in the fight, the horribly familiar, cold feeling of guilt over Joe’s death settled on her chest like a stone weight, and she didn’t even notice that Dom was there until he said her name.

She visibly jumped as he spoke, and jerked around to face him. Dom noted that now she had removed her dark, hooded poncho and placed her camo cap backwards on her head, she looked much younger. Dressed in black combats tucked into calf-high boots and a simple black long-sleeved turtleneck, she could have been a normal young woman in her mind-twenties, if not for the pistol strapped to her thigh and Longshot and Hammerburst at her back.

Muse regarded him for a moment, then turned back to the vegetable plants in the tub she was currently beside.

“What do you want…” There was no venom in her voice, just fatigue. She was obviously too tired to work up the energy to be angry right now, and Dom took advantage of the opportunity.

“Just came to see that you’re alright.” He said mildly as he walked over to her. He watched her pale fingers gently lifting up the leaves of a cauliflower, checking for pest infestation or disease.

“M’fine…” she eventually mumbled.

“You don’t look fine. You look exhausted.” Those icy eyes of hers snapped up to meet his, gleaming slightly as she look at him with almost savage intensity.

“And why do you care anyway?” She asked in a quiet voice. Something about her calm tone was even worse then when she’d gotten upset and shouted at him before. It was cold, emotionless… dead.

“I’m worried about you.” He was being honest, he did worry about the girl; someone could not have been through what she had without sustaining some pretty nasty mental and emotional scars, and Dom couldn’t help feeling guilty for not preventing some of them.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Muse, look at me.” She did so reluctantly. Dom locked his gaze with hers; he wanted her to know that he meant what he said next, that he was being sincere. “I do need to worry about you, because I feel responsible for what you had to go through after I left you with those refugees…” Muse abruptly severed the gaze and turned back to the vegetables.

“Good,” she muttered, “Because you are responsible.” She may have been too weary to get angry, but her bitterness was evidentially unaffected.

“I know,” Dom admitted quietly, “And I understand why you hate me… but you have to know I had no choice… I had my orders… Muse, please, think of-”

“If the words ‘the bigger picture’ come out of your mouth, I swear I’ll rip out your tongue.” Muse suddenly whispered furiously, and when she turned to him, her green and blue eyes were blazing. “You had your orders?” she mocked him cruelly; “You had no choice? Think of the bigger picture? ‘The bigger picture’ doesn’t exist for children. You try and explain the bigger picture to a child of four that doesn’t understand he’ll never see his mummy or daddy again. You try and explain the bigger picture to a young girl who just lost her little brother… You can try and explain, but you can’t, because for them there isn’t a bigger picture…”

“Muse…” he sounded helpless, “I’m sorry…”

“Save it.” Muse whispered, and though she still felt the anger coursing through her, tears sprang to her eyes and blurred her vision. “Just… just save it…”

She turned away in an attempt to leave, not wanting to let the Gear see her cry, but Dom caught her arms and firmly turned her to face him. Though Muse glared up at him, there was no way to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes, and they slid down her cheeks when she tried to blink them away.

“Muse…” The girl dropped her eyes and didn’t look at him as she swallowed hard. Her shoulders trembled. “Muse… it’s okay to be scared…” he told her quietly, “It’s okay to feel sad… it’s okay to let go…” Muse let out a barely repressed sob, and Dom kept his firm grip on her as she weakly tried to get away from him again. “It’s okay to cry…”

The fight abruptly went out of her, and Muse’s head dropped onto the Gear’s breastbone as she finally began to weep, her fingers gripping his vest. Dom wrapped his arms about the trembling girl, and rubbed her back as she let out all of her tears and anger and grief and fear.

“Shh… it’s okay sweetheart… I’ve got you.”

Before We Were Soldiers
Dom exited the Produce and Store Rooms block and returned to his companions only a short time after leaving them; only now to find them with a large cooking pot filled with thick vegetable soup and a bowl of slightly stale bread rolls between them.

“This blonde kid, Amy, brought us dinner.” Baird told him between stuffing his face with bread, “It doesn’t taste like crap!” He sounded so gleefully surprised that Dom had to laugh as he reclaimed his seat. Marcus got him a bowl of the soup and passed it over.

“How’s the kid?” he growled.

“I think she’ll be okay,” Dom confided quietly, “Just has a lot of mental baggage to deal with…”

Marcus nodded, making a gruff ‘hrm’ sound and then snorted as Baird attempted to hoard the rolls, only to have them easily stolen by Cole. Dom meanwhile, tucked into his soup; it was warm, thick, and creamy, and was probably made from the vegetables the Stranded grew themselves. It definitely beat the rations bars the squad had been living off for what seemed forever…

Cole’s voice suddenly broke into his thoughts of food.

“Dom! You’ve been holding out on us, baby!” Dom looked up to find the black Gear smirking at him; apparently having grown bored of tormenting Baird, he’d turned his attention to the Latino.

“Huh?”

“How long have you known cute Stranded and not told me about it!” Cole laughed. If anything, Dom looked even more nonplussed and the ex-Thrashball player laughed even more uproariously, causing several of the Stranded to look at him with wide eyes. “I’m talkin’ about Muse, baby, she’s a total cutie! If I had a hunny like-”

“Cole, she is not my ‘hunny’,” Dom wasn’t sure if he should be amused or offended, but he did thump Marcus in the shoulder when the other man chuckled. “She’s a kid I met when I was nineteen. Me and Marcus found her a couple of weeks after E-Day.”

Cole cocked an eyebrow questioningly and Dom sighed, briefly relaying the story of how he had found the little twelve-year-old girl that had amazingly survived the Locust attack on the city where she’d lived.

“Daaamn…” Cole let out a low, impressed whistle when he’d finished.

“Still don’t know how she managed it.” Marcus growled.

“That would be by pure luck…” The Gears turned quickly as the object of their conversation came and joined them. Without a word Muse helped herself to a bowl of the soup and sat between Dom and Cole. “I’m sorry about Jonathan being such a jerk earlier…” she said, “He’s not like that normally…”

Her voice sounded calm now, even, and there was no longer any angry or bitter undertone to it. It seemed that for the most part, those emotions had been released with her tears, and now she sat with the Gears completely at ease, as if she’d known them for years. Apparently any grudges she’d had towards the COG and its soldiers had been suspended for Delta Squad.

“Don’t worry about it, kid.” Marcus grunted, “We’re used to it.”

“Still…it wasn’t right…”

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Baird broke in, attempting to change the subject. Muse looked up at him, and noted the sniper goggles on his forehead and the rifle on his back. She shrugged slightly and gave a rueful smile.

“My dad took me paintballing every other weekend since I turned ten, so I had the basic skills… but it wasn’t shooting the gun that was the problem, it was coming to grips with actually killing someone… but after the Locust…” She didn’t elaborate and just shrugged again, though a dark look crept into her eyes; “They didn’t show us mercy, they won’t get any from me…”

“Umhm, spoken like a true soldier, baby.” Cole grinned in approval, but Muse made an amused sound.

“I’m not a soldier, I’m a kid with a gun…” she looked back to where the other Stranded were gathered, still some way away from the Gears, and her voice became pensive. “They don’t need soldiers… they just need someone to protect them… and that’s my job…”

She was silent for a moment as she watched the people of the camp, sitting around the fire with friends and family while they ate, talked, laughed, then she shook herself.

“So what did you lot do? Before being soldiers I mean.”

“Eh, me and Marcus have always been soldiers, s’in our blood.” Dom told her, he grinned at his friend, “Right Marcus?” Marcus grinned back, the firelight playing oddly across the scars marring his face.

“Right.”

“And you two?” Muse now asked Cole and Baird, she could almost see the black Gear swelling with pride, but Dom beat him to the punch.

“You don’t know who he is?” he teased the girl, “He’s the Cole Train, man! Played for the Cougars.”

“That’s me, baby!” Muse cocked an eyebrow and studied him for a moment, then she grinned.

“Nooo, you’re kidding me, the Cole Train?” She laughed, “You were my dad’s favourite Thrashball player, we watched all the Cougars’ games.”

Baird groaned; “Oh no, not more Cole Train fans…” Cole playfully punched the blonde’s shoulder.

“They all wanna ride the Train, baby!” To which Dom and Muse burst out laughing and even Marcus chuckled.

“Okay, okay,” Muse snickered as the laughter subsided, “And what about you, blondie?” Baird looked affronted.

“Blondie?”

“Well I don’t actually know you’re name, do I.” Muse said, smiling and looking completely innocent.

“Well it’s Baird, okay? Damon. Baird. Not Blondie.”

“Alright then, Damon. Baird. What did you do before being drafted? Famous athlete too?”

“No.” he sounded almost insulted by the idea, “I studied linguistics, dead languages, that sort of thing…” Muse looked impressed,

“You must be smart.” The sincere compliment softened the blonde a little and he shrugged, but said nothing. Cole however, slung an arm around his friend’s neck and rubbed his knuckles in Baird’s blonde hair, ignoring the muffled yell of protest.

“He can even read the Locust’s crap, baby!” Baird managed to shove the larger Gear off him and added;

“I can read some of it, I’m still translating.” He told Muse. Her eyebrows were raised.

“Very smart…”

“You mean smart-ass.” Marcus muttered and Baird threw him a filthy look.

“Shut up, Marcus.” Marcus grinned a rather dangerous grin,

“That’s Sergeant Fenix to you, Private.”

The banter between the Delta Squad Gears sounded easy and good-natured - obviously they had known each other long enough to be comfortable with the making fun and teasing mockery - and to her surprise, Muse found herself feeling more relaxed and at home in their company, then she had in the many years she’d been with the Stranded. Something in them, in their natures, was resonant with her own. The thought was both reassuring, and a little disturbing…

She spent the entirety of the evening with the COG soldiers, feeling accepted into their group as a fellow soldier, a comrade-in-arms. The topics they talked about ranged from guns to sports to the current situation of the war with the Locust. Muse got Marcus to tell her about the Lightmass Offensive and Delta’s recent battle with General RAAM; something that the Stranded had heard a little about through the radio they had tuned into the COG's broadcasting frequency.

Finally though, as true night descended, the inhabitants of the camp began extinguishing the cooking fires, lighting the oil drum fires that were placed at regular intervals around the camp as a precaution against the Kryll, and dispersing off to bed - all apart from those that were on gate watch with lit torches.

Muse rose to her feet as well, and stretched; cracking her spine with a series of satisfying pops and clicks.

“Time to turn in I guess.” She said, “C’mon, I’ll show you where you can sleep. You won’t be disturbed.”

“Oh God, is this for real?” Baird asked, “Decent food and a proper bed to sleep in?” he looked at Cole, “Am I dead? This has to be heaven or something.” The black Gear laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Muse takes good care of us, baby.” He grinned and winked at the girl, who sniggered softly.

“C’mon.” she chuckled, and led them to the buildings surrounding the camp that had been converted into living quarters.

She showed them to a room on the ground floor that was close to one of the exits, and opened the door to reveal the inside of a spartan, but nevertheless cosy room. It was furbished simply with four beds - big enough for Gears to sleep comfortably in - a couple of wall lamps, and a trunk under each cot.

“This one’s unoccupied, so you’re welcome to it for as long as you need it. The door locks from the inside and there’s a water closet next door but one.”

“Who’s in the room next to this one?” Dom asked.

“Oh, that’s me.” Muse replied, “I actually get one to myself, so if you need anything in the night, just give us a shout, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks Muse.” Marcus told her, gravelly voice rumbling. “We appreciate it.” Muse shrugged in reply, her hands in her pockets.

“No problem, least we can do, or we’d be food for the crows right now… Goodnight guys.” The Gears bid her goodnight and Muse left them for her own bed.

For The Fallen
Muse was awoken by the sound of someone pounding on her door. After the few initial seconds of grogginess, she was up and awake, peering out of her room. Instead of one of the Delta Gears she had expected, a young, fresh-faced teenage Stray Dog greeted her eyes. He looked ashen pale, eyes so wide she could see the whites, and scared out of his wits.

“What?” Muse asked, immediately put on edge by his expression, “What is it?”

“We found… Gears…” the boy stammered, looking sickened, “They… they’d been attacked… we were scavenging what we could from them, but one…” he swallowed. “One was… still alive… we brought him back… he’s in a lot of pain.” As if to illustrate the boy’s words, Muse suddenly heard a howl of agony from the camp’s main compound. She didn’t even need to think before replying.

“I’ll be right out. Call Sara. Right now.”

The Stray Dog nodded and darted off while Muse closed her door and began throwing on her clothes as fast as she could. Five minutes later she had left her room and was heading out into the covered part of the camp’s open area.

The Gear lay on the floor in a nest of hastily brought bedding, and was heavily bleeding. His armour lay scattered as though someone had removed it as quickly as possible without caring where it fell. Amy knelt beside the soldier’s head, propping him up gently and giving him water from a beaker. Sara - now the camp’s head medic - was tending to a nasty wound on the Gear’s midriff. Her expression was grim; she knew that this Gear was dead and that it was only a matter of time before his body knew it too.

Muse quickly and quietly went over, and dropped down on one knee across from the tanned, black-haired woman. “How is he?” she asked quietly. Sara looked up at her, and mutely shook her head before looking back to the terrible wound, trying to patch it up despite knowing it was futile.

“I’ve done my best, but…” she sighed, “Muse, all we can do for him is the Pendazipan…”

“Have we got enough?”

“To send him painlessly to sleep… yes, we have enough…”

Muse nodded quietly, looking at the Gear’s face. He was so young… shaggy blonde hair, green eyes… he wasn’t talking, but instead just looked at Amy like she was an angel. The blonde girl was smiling gently, the tears sitting in her eyes as she stroked his face.

“I’ll go and get it…” With which Muse rose and went to the section of the War Rooms where the Stranded kept their medical supplies. She got a vial of the Pendazipan painkiller from the small medicine fridge, a sterile syringe and needle, and then returned to Sara, Amy, and the Gear.

He was screaming when she got back; a low, hoarse scream that belonged in a nightmare. The horrible sounds had roused Delta, and now they stood close by, looking horror-struck but not interfering as the Stranded did their best for the dying Gear. Ignoring them for the moment, Muse ripped open the needle and syringe, filled it with the Pendazipan drug, and knelt beside the Gear’s head, across from Amy. She checked the pressure of the hypodermic, then gently slid the thin needle under his skin.

“What are you doing?” Baird asked in a hoarse croak. Muse didn’t look at him, but paused as she answered;

“We can’t help him… he’ll be dead within the hour no matter what we do… but we can make it as painless as possible…” She injected the drug.

Immediately the narcotic started to take effect, and the Gear’s screams became groans, and then finally heavy breathing. His eyes drooped as the overdose gently shut down his system, but he kept his gaze fixed upon Amy. The girl glanced at Muse, chewing her lip, tears still sitting in her eyes, and Muse nodded gently. Swallowing and taking a deep breath, Amy looked back to the prostrate Gear and began speaking softly to him, still stroking his cheek.

“We’ve given you some drugs…” she explained, “They’ve stopped the pain and’ll let you go to sleep soon…” Even in his drugged state, the Gear caught the real meaning of her words, and nodded, closing his eyes in a long blink. He let out a slow breath.

“Thank you…” The words came out with great effort and obviously cost him, but he never once took his eyes from Amy’s face; the tears streaming down her cheeks. Muse gently reached across to briefly squeeze her friend’s shoulder. “At least… I get to see a pretty face… before I go…” The Gear murmured, his voice low and failing. Amy managed to smile even through the tears, and leaned over to press a kiss to the Gear’s forehead.

As she pulled away, the Gear’s eyes drooped until they closed, and with a sigh he stopped breathing as he quietly and painlessly died, leaning his head against Amy’s shoulder.

There was a long silence, broken only by the blonde girl’s soft sobbing, then Muse, tightly holding herself to remain stoic, gently slipped the Gear’s COG tags from around his neck as she murmured; “You’ll be remembered…” She stood. “Have the body taken out, away from the camp…” she said quietly, “Salvage what we can…”

Even as she said the words, she heard the cry of outrage behind her, and when she looked towards the four Gears, she could read it in their faces; the revulsion, the fury, they were unable to comprehend how she could order such a thing to be done to a fellow Gear… Muse faced them, her expression hard, icy eyes gleaming.

“He’s dead. There’s nothing else we can do.” Her gaze quelled some of their anger, but Baird was still obviously furious enough to demand;

“So you’re going to plunder his body and dump him!?”

Muse’s locked her gaze onto the angry blonde, her face seeming unmoved despite the turmoil of emotions inside her; didn’t they realise she hated this as much as they did? But she didn’t have any alternatives…

“What would you like me to do?” she asked quietly, “Tell me. What would you have me do?” At first Baird seemed taken aback to be asked such a question, but soon collected himself.

“Oh I don’t know,” he said sarcastically, his voice low and dangerous, “Is a proper burial too much to ask? Or are you just barbarians that have no respect for the Gears that die to defend you from the Locust?”

Muse’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think we relish this?” she snarled quietly, “Do you really think we enjoy disrespecting the dead? But that’s what they are, dead, and we’re still alive. Yes, we plunder the bodies, and yes, we dump them afterward, but what the hell do you want us to do? If we could, we’d bury each and every Gear whose death meant we could live a little longer, but we can’t… so we make do…” Her tone lost its venom as she sighed and rubbed her face with one hand. She suddenly seemed very tired. “I want to show you something…”

Without even waiting to see if they were following her, Muse left the open compound, heading for the War Rooms. She went through the map room where the Stranded had made a scale model of the camp’s surroundings, and then through the armoury where scavenged guns and suits of COG armour hung on the walls. Then she came to a surprisingly fine, dark wood mahogany door that had the words ‘In Memorial’ burnt into it.

Muse opened the door slightly, and reached in to flick on the light switch. Two wall scones welled up with a soft half-light, and gently illuminated the room beyond. Only then did she look back, and found all four of the Gears with her. Beckoning them to follow, Muse slipped into the room. Inside, the very air was reverent and hushed, and not one of the Gears said a word as they saw what the room held…

The back wall was covered in small hooks, and on each one was a set of COG tags. A small table was also against the back wall, right across from the door, and on it was a candle enclosed by what looked like a quarter section of a football made of mirrors. The way it was positioned reflected the candle an infinite number of times, like an eternity mirror.

Muse quietly crossed the room and added the newest addition to one of the empty hooks. Then she moved to the table and opened a leather-bound ledger that sat to the side of the eternity mirror and candle, picking up one of the two pens beside it. One was red, the other blue.

The girl glanced at the tags she had just added to the others, and then in deep red ink, she copied the name engraved into the metal and dated it.

“Red for Gears.” She said softly, “Blue for Stranded… this book records the name and date of every survivor who died in this camp… and every Gear whose body we took things from to help us survive…” She turned to the four men, and her eyes met Baird’s in particular, shining like ice over deep water. “We don’t bury our dead… but we do honour them…”

Without another word Muse quietly left the memorial chamber, Marcus, Dom, Baird, and Cole, silently watching after her.

Clad in his armour once more, Dom found Muse on watch at the southern gate a couple of hours later. Unlike the north entrance, this one was just a reinforced backdoor, but was afforded just as much - if not more - protection as the main north gate; a couple of snipers at the windows on the higher levels, and more Stray Dogs armed with close combat weapons on the ground floor with the door itself.

Muse sat with her back to the wall between two of the upper story windows, a couple of mirrors on stands angled so that she didn’t have to stick her head out of the window to see everything and risk being taken out by an enemy sniper.

“Baird was in Alpha Squad…” the Latino said quietly in way of letting Muse know he was there. The girl looked up quickly at the sound of his voice, then looked away again, not wanting to meet his eyes. “The squad were killed except for Baird and Cole, and their bodies used as a lure by the Locust for an ambush… it hit Damon hard…”

Silence.

“I understand…” Muse said softly after a pause, her tone a little uncomfortable, “I do, really… but I’m not going to apologise for doing what we need to do to survive…I won’t apologise for my existence…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dom said quietly as he came to sit beside her, his back against the wall also, “I just wanted you to know why it’s such a touchy subject for Baird.”

“You mean, apart from the fact he doesn’t like Stranded much to begin with…” That made Dom chuckle a little.

“Muse, kid, he doesn’t like anyone much.”

Muse let out an amused snort; “Well that makes me feel a little better at any rate…” she paused, and then looked at the Gear beside her. “How d’you do that, anyway?” Dom looked puzzled.

“Do what?” Muse glanced at the floor between her bent and drawn up knees, looking a little embarrassed.

“Make me feel better… you’ve always done it… I just seem to feel… safer… around you… calmer… Like I can just relax and you’ll take care of everything…” she looked at him again, “I never felt so at ease before you and Delta turned up.”

For a second Dom looked at her with an expression of surprise and… was that… satisfaction in his eyes? Muse wasn’t sure, but then Dom smiled. It was a very gentle expression for a Gear, but it suited him, and Muse found that she knew the look well… it was one she had always associated with Dom and one other person. Her father.

“I guess you feel that way because you know I’ll take care of you…” He said. Muse gazed at him with eyes that were suddenly very young.

“Why?” she asked in a small voice, “Why d’you want to look after me?” she looked away again, “It’s not like I’m even your responsibility… why do you even care?” Gauntleted fingers gently caught hold of her chin, and Dom turned her head to face him again. He locked their eyes.

“Because I do. I feel it… in here…” he tapped his chestplate, over his heart, with two fingers of his other hand, “I lost my kids on E-Day… my parents… my wife… and an older brother before that… It left a… a hole, inside me. Marcus is all I have left, he’s my best friend, and he fills some of that hole… and… for some reason… you do as well… I don’t feel so empty around you, I feel needed again…”

Muse stared at him, her eyes wide as Dom practically poured out his soul to her. She made him feel needed? Why did him admitting that affect her so much? Made her heart swell inside her ribcage and her eyes prickle with tears?

“Dom…” she swallowed thickly. “I…I didn’t know that…” she whispered.

For a moment she looked at him - even he looked a bit emotional - and then leaned her forehead on his shoulder. Dom wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a one-armed hug.

“Now you know, sweetheart,” he murmured, “Now you know…”

There was a silence as neither spoke, then, quietly, Dom said in a teasing voice;

“I make you feel calmer? You didn’t seem calm when you pointed that Snub at my head.” He laughed as Muse scowled and aimed a punch at his chest, hardly feeling the blow when it connected.

“I’ll have you know that I was actually…” she said, almost huffily, “And it’s partially the reason I was so… upset…” she looked up at him. “Even when you’d left me with those other refugees and I hated you for it… You still made me feel safe…” Dom merely smiled and squeezed her gently. For a while they sat in comfortable silence, and then Muse asked.

“…So when are you heading back… it’s soon, isn’t it…” Dom’s hesitation spoke volumes.

“What makes you ask?”

“You’ve got your armour.” She nudged his chestplate to illustrate her point, “So, I guess you’ve been called back or something…”

“…Marcus got in touch with Control…” Dom admitted, “Told them the cross comms were Stranded on the same frequency, nothing to worry about… Command told us to return to base…”

Muse let out a breath. She didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of Dom leaving again was an upsetting one that made something in her chest shrink at the idea.

“Come back with me.”

She looked at him. “What?” He looked down at her intently.

“Come back to Jacinto with me.” Muse couldn’t deny that she was tempted, she could be safe, she wouldn’t have to be constantly wary, constantly on edge… but she would be leaving these Stranded behind to fend for themselves… No matter how tempted she was, she couldn't do that.

“I can’t…”

Dom sighed and nodded without argument, he hadn’t expected her to take the offer, but he couldn’t help himself from hoping she would. Another silence followed before Muse spoke again.

“Where’s Baird?” The question surprised the Latino Gear and he arched an eyebrow.

“He said he was going to enjoy one last hot shower before we leave… why?”

“I’m going to go and find him after my shift, I don’t want you guys to leave on bad terms with us, and I know he was offended about earlier… I should make it up to him really…”

“I thought you didn’t apologise for what had to be done.” Dom grinned, teasing her again. Muse smirked in reply.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try to get on at least civil terms with the guy…”

Mind Screw
Before this moment, if someone had told Damon Baird that he’d actually miss something to do with the Stranded, he’d have laughed in their face and told them they were crazy… but here he was, soaking in the last hot shower he expected he’d be taking for a while, and wishing he didn’t have to leave such luxury.

…He’d have never associated ‘luxury’ with Stranded before this moment either…

His bliss was intruded upon however when he heard the door of the shower room open, close, and then a woman’s voice calling his name.

“Baird? You in here?” He recognised the voice as Muse’s - that damn kid that had made Dom go all broody - and scowled to himself.

Great… “What do you want?”

There was a pause as the girl obviously chewed over the open hostility in the Gear’s voice that he hadn’t even attempted to mask. He heard her sit down on the bench across him his cubicle - the opaque screen door stopped her from seeing more then his silhouette - and when she did finally answer, it was barely audible over the roar of the water. But Baird heard it, and what he heard surprised him.

“To talk to you… I know you’re angry about earlier and I didn’t want us to part on bad terms…” Despite his surprise though, Baird still scoffed.

“Since when did Stranded want to be on good terms with the COG?” his answer obviously hit a nerve as Muse replied rather hotly;

“I don’t give a damn about the COG, but you and Cole are Marcus and Dom’s friends. I didn’t want you to leave with a chip on your shoulder.” Once again, Baird’s reply was biting and sarcastic.

“Well I’m sorry if I’m not comfortable with just dumping the bodies of war heroes like garbage.”

“Oh, and you bury your dead when you’re out on the battlefield, do you?” Muse snapped, her temper fraying. “Funny that, because we find most of our equipment on the unburied bodies of dead Gears.”

Baird was rendered silent for half a moment, then shot back; “We don’t exactly have time when we’re fighting to stay alive.”

“And you think we do!?” Muse demanded incredulously, “Do we look like we’re just sitting on our asses doing nothing!?”

“Well you’re living in the lap of luxury compared to us Gears! And Stranded spend half their time up to their eyeballs in booze!” Baird sounded a trifle smug, sure he was going to win the argument, but Muse wasn’t about to let him have the last word.

“Maybe we’re just better organised then your precious COG. And if you actually used your eyes, you’d have seen there isn’t actually any alcohol for drinking in this camp. We have better things to do with it… like molotov’s.” For a moment Baird was stunned, but still he refused to back down.

“And maybe the COG’d do better if they didn’t have people like you leeching the equipment we need! There’s a shortage as it is! I have to cannibalise every scrap of useful anything just to keep our guns working!”

“So do we!” Muse retorted waspishly, “You think we’ve got luxuries? Well that’s because we don’t spend all our time just fighting, and actually try and build something useful once in a while, unlike the COG who put all their energy into killing everything instead of providing decent food and basic hygiene for it’s citizens!”

Baird was utterly speechless for several seconds as he tried to think of some kind of comeback, but his normally razor wit was apparently failing him. He was going to lose to this bloody Stranded brat that somehow made Dom into some kind of doting older brother!

“What? No snappy retort?” Muse mocked him, “No clever witticism?”

Her ridicule was infuriating and Baird ground his teeth in annoyance. He couldn’t let her win, the idea was intolerable; he had to find some way to get one up on her…but how?

The idea struck him as he was about to order her out of the shower room so he could get dressed. Muse was an adult woman wasn’t she? Albeit a stainless steel bitch verging on psychotic that could do impressive things with a sniper rifle and would have made a fantastic Gear if she were male - but a woman all the same. Wasn’t she just as susceptible to the same things that other women were?

Smirking to himself as the idea formulated in his mind, Baird finished up and shut off the water, then carefully wiping all sign of the smirk from his expression, he cracked open the smoky screen door.

“Do you mind? What’s a guy have to do to get a little privacy around here? Wait outside, geez…”

Muse’s teasing was silenced, but Baird saw her smug expression as she left. As soon as the door had closed behind her however, the blonde grinned to himself, and stepped out of the cubicle, grabbing one of the warm towels stacked on the bench to quickly dry himself. Once dry, he dropped the towel and picked up his folded clothes.

He tugged on his boxers and fatigues but forewent the vest and merely slung the off-white garment across his shoulder instead. Once again he took care to wipe the grin off his face and took a moment to psyche himself up before strolling out of the room. In the corridor beyond which spanned the line of private showering rooms, Muse leaned against the wall across from the door, arms folded.

“That’s round one to me.” She said with self-satisfaction as soon as the door began to open, but when Baird actually came into view, Muse’s higher brain functions abruptly shut down and all thoughts concerning winning the argument were promptly forgotten.

Of course, she’d seen plenty of shirtless guys before - it was something one got used too when fighting with the Stray Dogs in the blistering heat and most of them were blokes… But this was very different… The Stray Dogs were underfed Stranded and didn’t have the steroids the COG used to bulk up their Gears.

Baird on the other hand, while he seemed much slimmer then his comrades, was built like a tank; all planes and ridges of battle-hardened muscle… Muse stared, eyes wide.

When he’d stepped out of the showering room, Baird had had a brief glance of Muse’s face before it changed; her mocking expression, icy blue-green eyes bright with laughter… and then her eyebrows arched as her brain processed what she was seeing, and much to his amusement, Baird watched her look him very slowly up and down with something that could have been awe.

As she was otherwise occupied, Baird allowed himself to study her with the same analytical eye he studied the Locust. Dom may have seen this girl as some sort of surrogate younger sibling or daughter, and Marcus probably wouldn’t have noticed as he was more into blonde Intell officers, but Cole - idiot that he could be sometimes - had actually been right…

Muse was actually cute.

Well, him finding her attractive would only make his plan all the more easier, and Baird smirked wider. He stepped closer, all the while keeping his eyes on the girl, and noted with pleasure that Muse tensed up at the movement, her own gaze flicking up to his.

“…the hell?”

That was pretty much all she got out before Baird had crushed his lips against hers. If Muse had ever thought about being kissed by a Gear, she would have imagined it to be rough and brutal; forceful, demanding, invading. Instead it was surprisingly gentle, tender; coaxing a response instead of forcing one. One hand caressed the small of her back, further reducing Muse’s brain to mush with the sensory overload.

Everything seemed to slow down just like when she was fighting; though instead of the sharp clarity that came from the adrenaline rush in battle, everything now was hazy with confusion. However just as she was about to start actively participating in the lip to lip contact, Baird pulled away and smirked at her expression; those blue-green eyes that were usually so clear and focused, now dazed and bemused instead. The blonde grinned.

“And that’s round two to me…” He said in a vaguely husky voice.

Muse blinked as realisation that she was being toyed with pushed through the fog Baird had created in her head, but by then the blonde Gear had turned away and was striding away from her down the corridor, pulling his vest over his head and smirking to himself. Just as he reached the exit to the Water Works block, he heard Muse’s scream of SON OF A BITCH! and his smirk widened as he headed back to Delta’s room to collect his armour.

Requiem
Muse was still fuming when the four Gears of Delta Squad, once again fully armoured, arrived at the north gate an hour or two later. Baird had taken advantage of her, made a fool out of her, but more then that, she had actually been suckered into his game - however briefly - and that rankled Muse no end.

However, she didn’t want it to be known that she’d been taken in by his mind screwing and so she completely ignored Baird, not allowing any of her annoyance at the blonde to show as she swung herself down from the sentry post atop the gate, and went over to them.

“I’ll be accompanying you to the pickup point.” She told Marcus, her tone matter-of-fact with the air of something already decided and unalterable. The Sergeant looked at her with an arched eyebrow.

“We don’t need an escort…”

Muse merely grinned as she shouldered her Longshot rifle. “Maybe I’m just making sure you actually leave.” She said, then shrugged, “Besides, I want to see you guys off.”

Marcus had seen enough by now to know that Muse wouldn’t be swayed no matter what he did, and so he grudgingly acquiesced without bothering to argue. When the Gears left the Stranded camp a few minutes later, Muse was with them, fully kitted with her usual arsenal.

Even though Locust numbers were generally low in the area, the Gears and the Stray Dog remained vigilant as they slowly walked through the burnt out shell of Vidandear; navigating streets with buckled and cracked paving, lined with buildings that were either completely or partially reduced to rubble. Walking side by side, Muse and Dom conversed from time to time in low voices.

“So what are you going to do now?” The Latino asked her quietly.

“Same as I’ve done all this time,” Muse replied with a brief smile, “Survive, fight, keep my guys alive… blow away as many Locust as I can… and…” she looked at him, “I’ll keep an eye out for Maria. If I find ‘er, you’ll be the first to know.”

Dom’s smile was bittersweet.

“What about you?” Muse returned the question.

Dom let out a chuckle; “Survive, fight, keep my guys alive, blow away as many Locust as I can… and find Maria… Then I’ll come for you.” We can be a family, you, me, Marcus and Maria… He didn’t voice those inner thoughts though, and instead asked carefully; “Have you thought of maybe enlisting in the Lifeboat program?”

The confused look Muse gave him made it obvious she didn’t know what that was, and so he explained that if the able-bodied men of the camp consented to become Gears, then the women and children would be evacuated to Jacinto.

“We could use you and your Stray Dogs…” he added, glancing at her. Muse was looking straight ahead, her eyes focused on something beyond the visible world.

“So, basically… we sacrifice our freedom for security…” Dom winced slightly at the unflattering terms she put it in.

“The COG’ll provide safety for manpower…”

“What about those of us that don’t fit into the COG’s neat little view of things?” Muse asked, her voice somehow managing to be calm and rational, and yet ever-so-slightly scathing, “They only let the men fight… us girls are consigned to be broodmares… what about the guys that don’t want to fight? What about the girls that do?” Dom looked a bit stunned.

“The women aren’t broodmares.” He defended, “They’re the only hope for our species, for human survival.” Muse looked at him.

“But nothing else it seems. I don’t want procreation to be my only use, Dom… but the COG tell me I don’t have a choice, to them that’s all I’m good for… The fact that I can fight? That I can strategise and think on my feet in the middle of battle when it’s all going to hell? It counts for nothing because I’m female and so I’ll be forced to breed.”

“There’re other ways to fight this war, you know.” Dom told her, “It can’t be fought on just a battlefield. We need people to gather intell, to tell the Gears what they need to know so they can fight the best they can, so they know where to go, and how to best deal with a situation. Like Anya. We rely on her just as much as the guy with a gun next to us.”

“So the closest I’ll actually get to fighting the Locust is in an Intell office?” Muse asked, then shook her head, “I can’t do that Dom, I’m sorry, but it’s not enough… Why do you think we’ve avoided contact with the COG for so long? Because we won't have out lives taken over…” There was a pause, “We’re not safe out here, that’s true,” the young woman admitted, “Our lives are difficult… but they’re still ours, and that’s what’s important…”

Though he believed what she said was a rather skewed look on the COG and its beliefs, Dom knew it was useless to try and convince someone as stubborn and set in her ways as Muse otherwise, and so he let the subject drop, though not without one last word.

“Well if you ever change you’re mind,” he said quietly, “Get in touch, and we’ll come and get you.” That at least touched her, and she squeezed his forearm in silent thanks.

They walked on in silence and it wasn’t long before Muse and Delta Squad reached the place where the Gears were to rendezvous with the King Raven coming to pick them up. It was in one of the wide open plazas that Vidandear had been known for, though now the outdoor art and various sculptures were long gone, no trace of them having been there remaining. The chopper was landing just as they reached the plaza - causing dust to fly everywhere - and for a moment the group paused for farewells.

“See you round, kid.” Marcus growled before heading over to the ‘copter,

“Yeah, keep fighting the good fight, baby!” Cole bellowed over the noise of the Raven before he too left. Baird blew a mocking kiss at her before following them, leaving Muse with the desperate urge to punch him in the mouth.

“Git…” she muttered, then turned to Dom who was still standing there, looking torn. Muse suddenly felt miserable and awkward; Dom was leaving again and she didn’t know when - or even if - she was going to see him again. It wasn’t a nice feeling… “So…erm… Until you next turn up without warning…” she tried to smile, but it came out wrong and faded quickly. Dom nodded, seeming to be feeling exactly what she was.

Then quietly, without a single word, he moved closer and wrapped an arm around Muse’s shoulders, pulling her into a strong hug. Muse bit her lip and wrapped her arms as best she could around the Gear’s chest, forehead resting next to the knife holster sunk into his armour.

“I’ll be back for you.” he promised quietly. Muse nodded wordlessly into his chest.

“Bye Dom…”

Even with farewells said, they still stood a few moments in silence, until finally Dom released her. “Bye kid…” And then he was gone; jogging over to the Raven where the rest of Delta were waiting.

“Dom!” Muse yelled after him just as he reached the helicopter, her voice barely audible over the spinning rotors. The Latino heard her though, and turned at the last moment; one boot in the chopper. “How did you know!”

“What!?” Muse took a deep breath and shouted at the top of her lungs.

“When I pointed that pistol at your head! How did you know I wouldn’t squeeze the trigger!” Even through all the dust kicked up by the chopper’s blades, Muse saw the Gear grin.

“Because I know you!” Then he climbed into the Raven and waved as it began to rise.

Muse softly laughed to herself in disbelief as she returned the gesture; “You cocky SOB…” And watched as the Raven climbed up above the buildings and flew away out of sight. Then she turned, and began walking back the way she’d come.

The trip was uneventful with not a whisper of Locust, and it was that inactivity that Muse had become used too over the fourteen years the Stranded had been here. Now it got her to thinking about the last couple of days, particularly the battle they’d had with the Locust the day before; it had been a much larger engagement then any they’d experienced yet, infact there had been more Locust in that one attack on the base, then any of the Stranded had previously encountered in last six months put together.

Why had the Locust suddenly become so determined to take out one little Stranded camp? What had changed?

Before she could think of a satisfactory reason for the odd behaviour however, she got back in range of the Stranded’s commlinks and her earpiece emitted a whine of static before one of the Stray Dog’s voices filtered through.

Alpha Leader, this is base, Bossman wants a situation report on the bogies.

Muse rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh. Jonathan was smart, but he could be such an idiot sometimes. He’d probably never forgive her for allowing the Gears into camp and then standing up for them.

“Copy that, base,” she responded with a tired sigh, “You can tell the Bossman the bogies are no longer a concern.”

Roger, Alpha Leader… There was a brief pause, and then in a tone of uncertainty; You are…coming back, right Alpha Leader? It was then that Muse realised that the Stray Dogs - and probably everyone else in the camp - had thought she was going to leave with the Gears… The thought brought on simultaneous feelings of regret and vague annoyance, and she wondered if Jonathan had been circulating stories that she was going to abandon them…

“I’m on my way now.” She reassured the Stray Dog on the other end of the commlink, not allowing her inner thoughts to cloud her tone of voice, “I’m coming home.” The sigh of relief was obvious in the Dog’s reply;

''Copy that, Alpha Leader. See you soon.''

“Yeah,” Muse murmured, “See you soon.”

The comm went dead and Muse sighed again as she renewed her pace. She was going home, she told herself, the Stranded camp that had been her home for over a decade. But no matter how often she mentally repeated the sentiments as she made the walk back to base, she couldn’t silence the thought that niggled at the back of her mind.

I’m going home… the Stranded camp is my home…

…but he’s not there…

Somehow, the camp she had inhabited for the past fourteen years, suddenly seemed a lot less like home without Dom…

Muse reached the camp’s north gate just as the sun began to sink behind the jagged city skyline, and the sentry let her in without hassle. To Muse’s surprise, Amy was waiting for her just inside the gate.

“Have they gone?” the blonde asked in a quiet voice as the dark-haired woman went over to her.

“Yeah,” Muse nodded and tried to smile in relief, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Don’t have to worry about them anymore.” However, Amy’s expression was sympathetic on the verge of pitying.

“I’m so sorry, Muse.” Muse looked at her, real confusion etched on her face.

“What?”

Amy gently squeezed her arm and her voice became even softer; “I’ve never seen you as happy as you were with them… Dom means a lot to you, I can see that… I’m sorry you had to be parted from him…” And with that Amy left, leaving the commander of the Stray Dogs staring after her in astonishment, and wondering just how obvious her affection for the Latino Gear had been to the rest of the camp.

Over the next few days Muse returned to her old self, though now the change was much more stark and noticeable after how she’d been over the mere two days that the Gears had been in the camp. Once again she isolated herself, her main thoughts concerning gate watches, Stray Dog patrols and general defence of the camp, while her moods became sullen and brooding once more.

After the Locust attack that had almost overwhelmed their defences, Muse became even more obsessed with protecting the Stranded within, and renewed efforts to further fortify the camp. The gate and outer walls were reinforced with scrap metal and sandbags, and she had grenades planted at strategic points along the wide roadway that led to the north gate. Stray Dog patrols were doubled and the radius of the areas they patrolled were widened.

Four months after the departure of the Delta Gears, a distress call came from one of the outer Stray Dog patrols. Muse, who was out on scavenger detail elsewhere, received the message barely minutes after it was sent out.

''Alpha Leader, this is base, we’ve just received a distress call from Stray Dogs twelve, thirteen, seven, and nine. They’re pinned down by Locust forty-five minutes north-west of your position.''

“Copy that, base. On our way.”

Immediately the scavenger detail was dropped, and while two of the Stray Dog escort took the non-combatant members of the detail back to camp, Muse and the remaining Dog - a middle-aged man named Eli - went straight to the location of the besieged patrol.

The gunfire became clear as they approached the location they’d been given, but instead of recklessly charging in which wouldn’t have helped the pinned down Dogs at all, Muse and Eli circled the sounds of fighting until they came to a house which should have overlooked the battlefield. They kicked in the back door and Muse darted up the stairs to take sniper point while Eli took his Lancer to one of the house’s front windows to offer support from there.

Meanwhile Muse had reached the roof and was hunkering down behind the chest-high wall that ran around edge, using her scope to scan the battlefield, when something suddenly felt very wrong… After years of battle Muse had learnt to trust her gut feelings, and now it was warning her that something was… off.

Again she did a sweep of the fighting below, trying to find the source of whatever it was that she sensed was out of place. Below, Locust Drones were swarming the street and Muse couldn’t help but wonder why how the four Stray Dogs on patrol had managed to hold off so many… the thought made her pause and a horrible thought began to form in her mind; like fog coalescing into something from a nightmare…

''At the Stranded camp, they could feel the deep down rumbling that each and every one of them dreaded and feared. The remaining Stray Dogs took up their battle positions, sharp narrowed eyes scanning the open spaces outside the camp as they attempted to predict where the E-holes would appear.''

But as the emergence holes began bulging upward like blisters in the roadway; cracking stone slabs of paving like shattering glass and ripping through the concrete like it was merely fine silk, the Stranded realised too late the mistake they’d made… They were completely surrounded…

''The truth was coming in through the comms even as they heard bone-chilling screams and the Tickers’ blasts reduced the camp’s defence to so much twisted metal and spilt sand. All the Stray Dog patrols had died before they could even radio in a problem. The Locust had allowed the last distress call to get through and staged the prolonged firefight, so that reinforcements would be sent to aid the patrols, while leaving the camp itself with less soldiers to defend it…''

''The Stray Dogs fought valiantly to protect the camp they had built from nothing all those years ago, fought to protect friends and family, and their way of life. But even as the non-combatants were evacuated to the safe rooms, the soldiers were cut down by gunfire. The defences were destroyed, the Dogs all but fallen… and the Locust swarm was coming…''

All was lost… and not even those in the safe rooms were spared as the camp was massacred…

Before Muse could fully grasp her suspicions, she heard a horrified scream over the comm, and Eli’s voice suddenly shouting her name in desperation;

''MUSE! It’s a diversion! The patrol’s already dead, the Locust just used them as a decoy to lure us in so they could-''

Muse heard the gunfire two-fold; both from inside the house and through her earpiece, and Eli’s warning was cut off, reduced to a dying gurgle, and then nothing. Her first instinct was to abandon her post and charge down the stairs to try and save the other Dog, but her common sense knew he was already dead and instead she once more scanned the street below, already knowing - with a dreadful sense of inevitability - what she would find…

The corpses of the four Stray Dogs of the patrol that had radioed for help, lay dead, killed in the initial onslaught… the firefight she and Eli had heard had been faked.

“BASE!” Muse screamed into her comm, “COME IN BASE! THIS IS ALPHA LEADER! REPEAT, THIS IS ALPHA LEADER! COME IN!”

Only static answered her, and then Muse heard the screams as someone tried to response to her call that the camp was under attack, only to be cut off by a merciless roar of bullets.

In that moment Muse knew she had failed, and then something heavy hit the back of the head with a dull crack, and she fell senselessly to the ground, completely incapacitated as the sounds of the slaughter faded and the world became black…

Cockroach
''‘Abandoned on the battlefield of our lives, we fought every day for each other’s survival. Their deaths will not be in vain. We will survive. We will live for another day. We will show them…’ - quoted from Miss Masquerade''

Muse came around to an insistent, throbbing headache, a dry throat, and a mouth full of dirt. As her brain became aware of that last fact, it made her body cough to clear its airways of grit even though her hazy conscious mind drifted aimlessly elsewhere.

Once the coughing fit had subsided, Muse let out a moan and squeezed her eyes shut even more tightly as the headache pounded a tattoo behind her eyeballs, not helped by the heat beating down on the back of her head. She realised she’d have to open her eyes and get up, get out of the sun before she became completely dehydrated, and her head ached even more violently at the mere thought.

When she did finally force her eyes open - causing sparks of pain to course through her head like firecrackers - it took a few moments for her brain to be able to do anything else but tell her how damaged her body was. Eventually though Muse was able to force herself passed the pain and take in her surroundings.

She was on a rooftop in the blazing sun… what was she doing there? Thinking that it might lend a little more insight, Muse dragged herself over to the short wall that ran around the edges of the rooftop, and peered down to the streets below. There were a couple of Locust bodies, and four dead humans… no… Stray Dogs…

And her brain then decided now would be a good time to allow her memories to flood back and the headache increased ten-fold… The distress call… Herself and Eli coming to the aid of besieged Dogs… Eli’s desperate message, cut off mid-sentence as he was slaughtered… Seeing the bodies of her Dogs… Realising what it all meant…

A diversion…

It had all been a trick… a decoy… bait to lure them away from…

“Camp…” Muse moaned in hoarse, anguished croak. How long had she been out? Hours? Days? The Locust must have thought they’d killed her if they’d left her unharmed beyond the clout to her head…

She had to get back, Muse realised with sudden urgency, it was imperative that she get back to camp now. But the overload of mental stimuli caused the headache to burst in her head like a supernova, and the pain of it became too much. Muse slipped once again into unconsciousness.

She must have only been out a few minutes, as nothing had changed when Muse awoke again. The headache was still there - feeling like her brain was attempting to beat its way out of her skull - but Muse ignored that, and forced herself up into her hands and knees, gripping onto that low wall as leverage to stagger to her feet. She groaned and gritted her teeth as her body was jarred and a thousand hurts were awakened, but ignored them all as she forced herself to bend over and pick up her Longshot instead of lying down and curling up in a ball as her body demanded.

Even as muzzy as her mind was, and as weak and pain-ridden as her body felt, Muse’s force of habit had her check her equipment. She found that along with the sniper rifle, the Snub pistol was still in holster at her hip, but the Locust Hammerburst had been taken - probably by the Locust themselves… Well they were welcome to it, the Longshot was perfectly capable of blowing their brains out…

The rising rage felt good, and Muse gained strength enough from it to cross the rooftop and get down the stairs. Eli’s body was slumped by the window, his head a pulp of blood and brain matter littered with fragments of shattered bone… Muse looked away and stumbled from the house.

She took a moment to orientate herself - a task which was easier said then done in her current state - and then set off at a brisk trot towards the camp. She would have gone faster, but doubted she’d be able to keep her balance enough to remain standing if she did. Besides, the slow trot she was doing was punishing enough as it was; causing more aches to erupt all over her body with each step.

She ignored the protests however, gritting her teeth against the pain, and tried not to think of anything except the next step.

Not what was going to happen.

Not if she was going to make it out of this alive.

Not what she was going to find at the camp.

Just the next step.

Eventually Muse reached it, but as she rounded the corner, she came face to face with her nightmares… Smoke, black and acrid, rose up from behind the smashed and broken walls, and even from here Muse could smell burnt meat so strongly it made her gag. The north gate, which had seemed so solid and impenetrable, lay buckled and twisted; barely hanging off one of its supporting rods… She couldn’t see anybody…

Without thinking of anything but getting to the camp, Muse broke into a run. The road was in a shambles; broken up by craters and potholes and the remains of dozens of Locust E-holes, but Muse’s fear gave her the strength to keep her feet even as she skirted the rubble and devastation until she reached the ruined gate.

As her eyes took in the full extent of the destruction, Muse was hardly aware that she’d come to a stop. She just stood where the north gate had once been, and saw what the Locust had done… The entire camp had been set alight, and everything was blackened. Flames still licked here and there, but for the most part the fire was extinguished… The metal and wood roofing had collapsed, and the burnt and blackened bodies of Stray Dogs were scattered everywhere.

Slowly, Muse walked through the wreckage of the only place she had been able to call home since the Locust had first attacked Sera. There was nothing left… it was all gone… the Locust had razed almost everything to the ground…

Safe rooms…

The thought ignited a tiny kindling of hope and Muse started forward at a faster pace, heading through the skeleton of the camp to find the safe rooms where the non-combatants hid if the fighting grew particularly fierce. Those rooms were the safest place to be, and if there were survivors, it would be there that they would be hiding.

The first of the three safe rooms was empty; the second blackened by ash but devoid of life; the third, the most well protected of all; was the last one Muse came too. At the same time dreading and hopeful of what she’d find, Muse went up to the huge, thick metal door, and put her weight against it.

The door swung open easily… and Muse felt the strength go out of her. She sank to her knees.

There was blood everywhere… entrails covered the floor… and the bodies of the inhabitants of the camp hung from the ceiling by crude metal hooks… skinned… dismembered… disembowelled… butchered like cattle…

Muse slowly turned and sat with her back against the wall beside the open door of the safe room that had become an abattoir. She didn’t move, but just sat; knees drawn up, the heel of one hand pressed to her forehead, eyes tight shut, the tears silently streaming down her face…

Proem
Instinct is an incredible thing.

It can guide you through a place you’ve never been too before. It can tell you if a person is a friend or foe. It can give you strength to keep going when you’d otherwise fall…

And it will force you to survive even when you’d prefer to lie down and die.

Instinct is the only reason I can give for my survival that day, that, or I’m just a cockroach that stubbornly survives everything whether I want to or not… When I was broken; nothing but a numb husk drained of everything that made me human… when I would have just given up and lain down in the dust… it was damn instincts that got me up.

I scoured every inch of that camp, for even the smallest chance I’d find survivors… I didn’t. The Locust had killed them all, and as that became more of a reality, the numbness gave way to something much stronger…

Rage.

The Locust had taken from me everyone and everything that had ever meant anything to me. My parents. My friends. Dom. They had destroyed the lives of all those I held dear; ripped apart families and killed friends… and suddenly I was consumed with anger, the need for vengeance…

No more would I be on the defensive. No longer would I bunker down with my only goal being to survive. Now I would be on the offensive, now I would be the one to attack. My goals changed from surviving, to killing as many of those mutant sons of bitches as I could.

I would have my revenge, even if it cost me my life…

And so I went through the entire camp and stocked up on supplies. The Produce and Store Rooms block was completely trashed; the growing tubs overturned and compost everywhere, the vegetables trodden into mulch, but I found enough of the dried, vacuum-packed, long-life and preserved rations to make up a decent supply.

The Water Works block wasn’t in much better shape. The plumbing system we’d put so much time and effort into building had been smashed in what was probably mere moments and dirty water flooded the floor and spurted from ruptured pipes. The showering rooms were reduced to leaks and pulverised tile, and the basic purification plant we’d rigged up had been demolished. But I found the actual water store intact and added as many bottles as I could to my growing supplies.

The alcohol I’d told Baird about, that we used for molotov’s and basic explosives, was also stored in the water block… I’ll admit that for a moment I was tempted to drink myself into a blissful stupor… but being hammered wouldn’t help me kill Locust.

I left the booze.

With grim pleasure I found the War Rooms more or less untouched. The map room was in shambles, but I got the impression that the Locust had seen this room and not thought the others worth their time.

So much better for me…

From the armoury I took as much Longshot and Snub pistol ammo as I could get my hands on, as well as spare parts for the rifle. I also cannibalised the smallest set of COG armour we had. The armour itself was still way too big for me - even the smallest Gear was almost three times my size - but the reinforced one-piece the COG wore under their armour would afford me some protection, and I put it on.

The last room I visited was the memorial. The Locust had failed to desecrate this place also, and for that I was grateful. The untouched room was quiet as it had always been, though now the unnatural hush spread over the entire camp…

I considered just leaving it the way it was, but something inside me recoiled at the idea, and instead I collected the COG tags and added them to the hip-packs I’d taken from the COG armour we’d collected - it would be easier to carry my supplies in them, then a bulky knapsack.

Then I sat with the ledger of records, and spent over an hour writing down the names of every person that had died here, before I put it too in one of my hip-packs. It was as I wrote their names that the tears finally came…

By the time I was ready to leave the remains of the camp, it was getting dark. The Kryll - or what remained of them, their numbers had been severely decreased as of late - would be out soon, and so even though I wanted to leave behind this camp, I stayed one last night in the place I’d once called home.

Tomorrow I would begin my journey towards Jacinto, the only destination open to me now, and I would hunt down and kill as many of the damned Locust as I could along the way. But for tonight, I would stay.

I didn’t sleep at all through those dark hours; I sat with my back to an oil drum fire and fed my rage and thirst for revenge. If I’m honest, I was scared to try and rest… Because if I dared close my eyes, I knew that all I would see, would be the butchered corpses of those I had failed to protect…

Vengeance
 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.'   Romans 12:19 

Muse set down the white propane tank she was carrying and paused a moment to take a breather, panting slightly. Her shoulder ached from where the Wretch had tried to take a chunk out of her a couple of days before, and the relentless sun overhead wasn’t helping matters. Muse gave it a dark look from under the peak of her cap as a dribble of sweat slid down her cheek, then peeled back the crude bandage she’d tied around her shoulder to examine the wound that was causing her so much trouble. The bite was festering - oozing blood and yellowish pus - and Muse grimaced before covering it again. Definitely not cool.

Briefly she took off her cap to wipe her forehead with the back of her hand while she glanced around. She could have been in any city on Sera with the burnt out cars, blocks of masonry, buildings reduced to rubble, and other miscellaneous trash and debris littering her surroundings - but that wasn’t so for Muse; she had extensively explored this whole area until she knew every single inch of it.

She knew for example that unlike Vidandear - which she had left behind weeks ago - it was very easy for the Locust to come up here and they did so frequently. She knew where their emergence holes were, she knew the routes they used when they came topside…

And she fully intended to put that knowledge to as most devastating a use as possible…

But she wasn’t finished yet, and so forced herself to keep going.

“Almost done…” she told herself in a breathless murmur, “This’s the last one… come on now…” and using the last of her tired and failing energy, Muse heaved up the propane tank once more, and carried it over to the place she had marked the paving with an X using some chunk of concrete. Once it was in place, Muse allowed herself a rest and sat next to the tank; back against the rusting bodywork of a wrecked car, releasing a long breath.

Since leaving the burnt out remains of her camp, Muse had kept her mind and body constantly busy and focussed on avenging her dead; it was the only way she could keep it together. Even now as she took a brief respite, the images of the death and destruction she had found in that place rose up in her mind’s eye…

Static from the radio she’d scavenged suddenly caught her attention, and Muse took the small device from one the hip-packs she used to carry her supplies. After a little dial-twiddling, she tuned the small radio into the appropriate frequency and the voice of Richard Prescott, the leader of Coalition of Ordered Governments, came through the speaker…

''Humans are no strangers to war. After all, we’ve been fighting for as long as we can remember. War is all we know.''

Ah… so it was one of those rallying speeches that the COG brass were so fond of… words to lift moral and work the Gears up into a battle frenzy…

''In the past, we fought for Imulsion. We fought for country. We fought for freedom. But all that changed after E-Day. For fifteen years, we’ve been fighting for our very survival against inhuman, genocidal monsters. But it is a fight we cannot continue. Humanity faces extinction, unless we end this war now. We had hoped the Lightmass bombing would decimate the Locust Horde, but they survived…and have returned stronger than ever. They’ve brought with them a force that can sink entire cities. Even Jacinto, our last beacon of hope through all these dark days, is now at risk. Soon we’ll have nothing left to defend, and that means we have only one option…attack.''

Muse frowned as she listened… a force that could sink entire cities? What sort of new horror was this? And why had she only just heard of it now? There’d definitely not been any news of cities being sunk before…

At that moment, when Muse heard that the Jacinto Plateau was under threat, she didn’t think that the COG would now finally understand how hard survival had been for the Stranded… she didn’t think for a moment that they were getting what they deserved. All Muse could think about was Dom, Marcus, Cole, and Baird, and wonder if they were safe.

''Gears, what I ask of you now is not an easy thing, but it is necessary. If we are to survive…if we are to live long enough to see the seasons pass, our children grow, and experience a time of peace that we have never known…we must now take this fight to the Locust. We will go to where they live and where they breed…and we will destroy them! This is the day we take the battle to the heart of the enemy! This is the day that we correct the course of human history! This is the day we ensure our survival as a species! Soldiers of the COG, my fellow Gears, go forth and bring back the hope of humanity!''

Muse heard the roars and cheers of the Gears that were apparently assembled to hear the speech, and then the transmission became static once more. Muse turned the radio off.

So the Gears were going to mount a direct assault, were they? Then her need to get to Jacinto was even more urgent; the COG would never accept her into their military ranks, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t add her gun to the defence of her race from outside the organisation… Besides… the more Locust she could kill… the better…

Speaking of Locust that needed killing… Muse dragged herself away from her brooding thoughts, and got to her feet; dusting off her hands and looking around. Everything was in place… now all she had to do was wait for her targets. Muse smiled to herself at the thought, through it appeared more like a grimace; it was now only a matter of time.

Muse retreated a safe distance away from the ambush she’d set up, and hunkered down behind another gutted car that served as a makeshift barricade; checking over her Longshot while she waited. It was vital that her timing and aim was perfect, and she didn’t want to risk her gun jamming at the wrong moment.

She didn’t have to wait long before the tell-tale sounds of approaching Locust reached her, and it only took a moment or two of careful listening for Muse to deduce that those coming her way were some kind of vanguard; Drones, Wretches, a couple of Theron Guard, and even a few of the larger ones that were usually armed with the big artillery. The thought of annihilating all of them was savagely pleasing, and Muse was tense with anticipation.

Following their progress through the Longshot’s scope, Muse watched them come closer and closer until they were almost right where she wanted them. With slow, precise movements she slid her finger into the trigger and aimed her crosshair over one of the white propane tanks she had so carefully placed…

“Just a little closer…” she muttered through her teeth, “C’mon…” The Locust came closer, and closer, until finally… there! Muse squeezed the trigger and the red-hot bullet left the barrel faster then the eye could track it, and hit the mark.

The propane tank erupted into a ball of flame and ignited the trail of fuel Muse had laid out, causing all the other tanks to go off like a line of explosive dominos. The grenade-clusters Muse had planted were set off by the shrapnel of the first explosions and their detonations joined the havoc. The Locust didn’t stand a chance, and were immediately consumed by the flames. Muse stood and turned her back on the raging inferno and the inhuman screams of the Locust.

She calmly walked away from the destruction she had caused without once looking back.

Ave Maria
Using a fragment of broken mirror, Muse carefully examined her wounded shoulder while the heavy rain drummed on the roof outside. The bite didn’t look any better; still oozing pus, the flesh was swollen around the puncture wounds, and was red and inflamed. Muse grimaced at the mess and went through the routine of cleaning it.

Gently lifting the scabs with a nail, she drained the yellow pus that had gathered in the tender swellings, before changing the bandage - using another strip of ripped fabric which had once been her turtleneck. With the bandage good and tight, Muse went to replace the mirror fragment back into her hip bag, but paused as she caught her own reflection in it.

A complete stranger was staring back; if she hadn’t known better, Muse would have thought it was a stranger she was looking at; the last couple of months had changed her until she was almost unrecognisable, even to herself…

Her cheeks were gaunt, her skin pale and smudged with grime, her icy eyes were dull and circled with tired shadows. The backwards camo-coloured cap and orange Locust goggles propped on her forehead were the same, but her dark hair, which had at one time always been clean and constantly in a neat rope plait, was now tattered and matted with dirt and dried blood. She’d hacked it off with a sharp bit of metal when the weight of it had become too hot and heavy, and now the uneven strands barely came past her jawline.

The knee-high boots she wore were stained with filth and gore around the soles, the COG-issue reinforced one-piece she’d scavenged was left unzipped with the arms tied around her waist, revealing a black combat vest marked with dark blotches of blood that refused to come out, and a horribly wounded shoulder…

Muse found herself wondering when she’d become such a dirty vagabond… she looked like a walking corpse.

Pushing the uncomfortable thoughts aside, Muse packed up her gear and stood, looking around the half-demolished house where she’d briefly stopped to see to her injury. It must have once been a rather lavish home, but now there was only mildewed furniture and mouldy hangings. In some places the roof had collapsed and the wood flooring was smashed and buckled…

With no further reason to stay, Muse shouldered her rifle and left the dilapidated structure. Outside the rain hadn’t let up and was still coming down hard, but Muse grimly continued regardless. It wasn’t long before she was completely soaked, but she kept walking anyway; every moment bringing her closer to Jacinto.

It was much later, as the sun was getting low in the sky, that Muse came upon the Stranded at the city limits. Of all the things she had expected to encounter, human survivors were not one of them, especially not so close to a hotzone of Locust activity. But here they were, a whole group of them; young and old, adults and children, men and women… all headed to some destination unknown.

When they noticed Muse, the group stopped dead in their tracks and several of them turned guns on her while the others peered fearfully at her through the grey curtain of rain. In all fairness she could hardly blame them; gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes… it probably didn’t help that she currently had rusty streaks of dried blood down her injured arm.

Slowly, doing her best not to appear threatening or make any movements that could be considered hostile, Muse carefully holstered the Longshot over her shoulder, and put both gloved hands up, palms outward.

Her gesture caused the handful of guns trained on her to be lowered a little, and she watched as the armed Stranded glanced at each other, then as one shouldered his Gnasher shotgun and left the group to approach her. Muse moved to meet him halfway.

“What’re you doing out here all on your own?” the young man asked suspiciously, his narrowed eyes darting all over the empty street behind Muse as though expecting some kind of enemy reinforcements to appear. Muse didn’t begrudge him; better to be wary and alive then trusting and dead.

“My camp was overrun by Locust,” she told him, “I only just managed to survive.” He nodded with obligatory sympathy, but he had probably heard the same story so many times before - as all the Stranded had - that it hardly carried any weight any more. Something that had once been a horrifying atrocity was now just another part of their everyday lives…

“Same happened to us,” he said, “So we’re heading underground.”

His reply was surprising at first, but then Muse supposed it made some kind of sense; the Locust were so intent upon coming topside, maybe hiding right under their noses in their own territory was the right way to go… Another thought came to her just as the man turned to walk back to his group, and she spoke quickly.

“Have you seen a woman called Maria around lately?” she asked, “Maria Santiago. Tanned, dark hair, quite pretty?” The other Stranded looked thoughtful for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“Yeah, yeah we had a Maria, ‘bout a month ago… Out of her mind though, wandered off before the Locust attacked us.”

“D’you know where she went?”

“Nope, sorry. Good luck, stranger.” And with that he jogged back to the Stranded group as they began to move off again through the rain. Muse was unsurprised that he hadn’t invited her to join them; with shortages on food and water and medicine, these days people only looked after those in their own groups and left others to do the same.

She couldn’t help wonder though when she and all the rest of the Stranded had just started to accept these things as normal social behaviour…

But then maybe it was better if she interacted with other people as a little as possible, after the attacks on the convoy when she was twelve and the camp only a few weeks ago, Muse was wary about getting to know anyone. It seemed that anyone she got close too, anyone she became fond of; all fell victim to the Locust, while she was doomed to survive and carry the guilt of their deaths…

Maybe she was just cursed…

The young woman watched the Stranded disappear into the wet evening before continuing on her own path. Though now she mulled on what that Stranded man had said about going underground… After the attack on her camp, hadn’t she put her mind to killing as many of the Locust as possible? And where better to do that, then down in the Locust tunnels themselves?

Muse knew there was an Imulsion pumping plant just outside the city, maybe she could get into the Locust tunnels from there. With the risk of Locust or contracting Rustlung, it’d be abandoned now either way as the workers fled. With the new strategy in mind, Muse altered her bearing slightly, and headed for the Imulsion works.

Despite the impediments of cold and wet and the oncoming night, Muse kept walking until, when it finally began to get dark and the rain stopped, the clouds parting to reveal a clear crimson sky shot with the last gold of sunset; she reached their destination. Before her, silhouetted against the deep red sky in a mass of pylons and stacks and pipes that jutted weirdly upward, were the remains of an Imulsion pumping station. The facility would have the massive mining drill-lifts that would allow Muse to get underground, but first she would have to get through the station itself, and places like this were always infested with Wretches…

Muse knew from experience how quickly Wretches could appear out of nowhere; she had the bite to prove it and didn’t intend to be caught off-guard again.

Quickly and carefully she disassembled her Longshot - a sniper rifle would only be a waste of time against Wretches in the twisting and turning corridors of the facility and underground passages, but could hinder her movement in enclosed spaces. She would have to rely on her Snub.

Cautiously she entered the perimeter of the abandoned factory, which was marked by a rundown chain link fence, and scanned the open space warily, using the beam of her torch in the failing daylight. No Wretches.

For now at least…

She crossed the open space and found the nearest door into the deserted edifice. The corridor beyond was also free of Wretches, and warily Muse entered the dark and empty facility. Even though she made not a sound as she made her way through the pumping works, merely the noise of her passing - every breath, every shuffle and scuffle of footstep on metal - was echoed and redoubled ten-fold, until she nervously jumped at even the slightest echo.

Incredibly, she reached the heart of the station and the drill-lifts without a single encounter, and as the actual lifts came into view, Muse let out a soft sigh and relaxed a little as she began to cross the catwalk over to the lift.

It was then that the Wretch shrieks suddenly tore into the thick, undisturbed air… screeches of glee and hunger of creatures that wanted nothing more then to gorge on hot blood and fresh meat…

Muse did the only thing she could do. She ran. The shrieks came from the facility corridors behind her, and so she sprinted for the drill-lifts, punching the glowing button that would take it down. The huge platform shuddered and jerked and then began to slowly grind downward as the screams of the Wretches drew closer. Muse squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the images the Wretches’ screeches brought to mind, out of her head… Images that were burned into her memory in a slideshow of death and blood and despair that spanned back over a decade…

Would it ever end? She thought hopelessly. Would there ever be a time when she could close her eyes, when she could sleep, and not see those images in her nightmares? Would there ever be a time when the death screams wouldn’t invade her dreams?

Pressing her back to the corner of the guard rails that ran around the edge of the platform, Muse slid to the floor, the Snub pistol tightly in her grasp. Even though the shrieks of the Wretches eventually faded until only silence greeted Muse’s straining ears, the drill-lift continued to sink lower; deeper into the darkness under the earth which had come to represent all that Serans most feared…

And Muse was swallowed by that darkness, as she entered the Locust’s realm…

Eventually, after what seemed a lifetime of sitting in the dark that was only held at bay by the beam of a single flashlight, Muse saw a green-yellow glow issuing up from below her, and remembered one of the reasons why this plant had been abandoned. She pulled out the scraps of material which had once been her turtleneck, sliding the fabric which had been the neck of the garment over her mouth and nose. It wasn’t much, but it would afford her some protection from the Imulsion that had been vaporised by the Lightmass bombing and was the cause of the Rustlung affliction. Not long after, and the drill-lift ground to a halt at the bottom of its central column.

For a moment Muse stood and looked out over the cavern in awe as she took in the lake of glowing Imulsion around her; lighting the cave with its unearthly luminescence, gushing from vents in the walls in shining waterfalls like rivers of pure light…

Shaking herself from the trance, Muse let her eyes rove around the cave again, though this time in search for a way out of the chamber. The tunnel she found was roughly-hewn out of the rock, terribly draughty, and damp, echoing with the constant drip of water on stone, but she followed it away from the Imulsion cavern, deeper into the labyrinth of Locust territory.

Hours passed and Muse continued along endless tunnels that all seemed identical, without any sign of Locust. However, just as she was going to concede that maybe there weren’t any around here, Muse turned a sharp corner in the tunnel, and discovered entirely too much evidence of their presence…

They looked like rusty metal sarcophagi, and they were everywhere… There was also a huddle of terrified Stranded, and a group of Locust who appeared to be separating them… As Muse’s eyes scanned the crowd, she saw one face that she recognised. It was a face she had only seen once and years ago, but one she could remember vividly…

She was thin, gaunt to almost starvation, her hair was not as thick as Muse had seen it, and she had an almost… detached expression. But Muse still saw the beautiful woman in Dom’s photo, and breathed her name.

“Maria…”

Fate Intervention
She seemed… listless… It worried Muse for reasons she herself didn’t quite understand as she watched the Locust put each of those humans they had separated from the group of Stranded into their own metal caskets. Maria was wasted away to almost nothing but skin and bone, her hair was falling out, and even from here, Muse could see the marks of torture.

But it was those misty, vacant eyes, that worried Muse the most.

One thing was for certain though, she had to get Maria out of this place, and take her to Dom. That was Muse’s only thought, that was all that mattered.

Just in case the only way to get to the woman was if she somehow integrated herself into the Stranded group as another prisoner, Muse made sure that her Longshot was in pieces in one of her hip-bags, and that the Snub was holstered out of sight underneath the reinforced one-piece. She couldn’t afford to be seen as armed by the Locust; either they’d shoot her on sight, or confiscate her gear.

When the Locust prison guards moved on again, herding the terrified humans along tunnels scattered with metal coffins, Muse covertly trailed them, trying to block out the sounds of fear from the captives.

Part of their fear, she knew, was not knowing what was going to happen to them. There was at least a small comfort in one knowing for sure what fate was in store if the Locust came.

Or there had been, until now.

Now the Locust were being unpredictable, and in some ways that was even more petrifying then knowing for certain you were dead if they caught you… and by the looks of those marks of torture on Maria’s thin form, they were right to be afraid.

As Muse continued to follow the group of prison guards and captives, she watched as the Locust periodically stopped, separated several of the Stranded from the main group, and shut each person into one of the sarcophagi. As bad as Muse felt for all those locked into the rusty metal boxes, her first priority was Maria, and it was only when she was separated from the group of Stranded and locked into her own sarcophagus that Muse stopped trailing the Locust prison guards and their captives.

They were in a massive cavern now, with a sloping path which curved and led down to the relatively flat floor that was about the size of a Thrashball field. Muse waited until the Locust were out of sight before she darted over to Maria’s casket. There was an open slat at head height, and Muse stood up on her tip-toes to peer inside.

“Maria?” A hoarse moaning gasp answered her, but nothing else. “Don’t worry, Maria.” Muse whispered, “I’ll get you out.” She examined the metal coffin for a moment before she found the pin-bolts holding it closed and slid them free. Then she curled her fingers around the edge of the sarcophagus’ door, and threw her weight backward as she tried to get it open.

The door stuck for a moment, then with a creak and groan, the huge slab of metal slowly swung outward on stiff hinges, until it was fully open.

When Muse got a good look inside, she winced at the state Maria was in… A husk of a once living person… hollow, vacant eyes staying blankly at Muse with unseeing detachment…

“Maria?” No response. “Maria, ma name’s Muse, I’m a friend of Dominic’s,” her tone was hopeful, despite Maria’s pitiful appearance, “Your husband, Dom?” Still no response, and Muse sighed. “Maria…please… give me some sort of sign that you’re still in there… please… Maria?” The living corpse continued to look blankly at her, and Muse swallowed, feeling her eyes prickling. “Maria…”

But whatever had once been Maria was long gone, leaving behind this shell which only lived because the body refused to die.

“What did they do to you…” Muse was unsurprised when that received no reply either, but she couldn’t just leave Dom’s wife here, and so she stood, carefully helping the frail creature to her feet. “Let’s get you out of here…”

Maria was disconcertingly light, as though her bones were hollow like a bird’s. Even as gaunt as Muse herself had become, she had no problems picking up the poor creature which had once been Maria Santiago; thinking to carry her back to the Imulsion plant and the way out.

However, as she turned away from the metal sarcophagus, Maria in her arms, Muse caught only a glimpse of the Theron Guard that had been stood behind her, and then a fist smashed into her face.

The next thing Muse knew, she was sprawled on the uneven rock floor of a Locust tunnel, the taste of blood in her mouth and warm liquid coming from her nose. Her brain only had time to process that she’d just been punched in the face before the wind was knocked right out of her a moment later as the Theron kicked her in the stomach.

Though the kick made it hard to breathe and caused pain to shoot through every limb, Muse got the distinct impression that it had been a mere love-tap to the pulverising blow it could have been. It still left her incapacitated for several seconds though, rendering her helpless to do anything as a couple of Locust Drones began to drag Maria away.

“Maria…” The hoarse croak made her whole body hurt, but seeing the woman that meant so much to Dom now slipping through her fingers, gave Muse the strength and iron will to push past her own pain and heave herself to her feet, her only thought to reach Maria.

Distantly she heard a hiss of anger from the same Theron that had punched her, and another blow suddenly glanced across her ribs in a line of fire. Muse doubled over, gasping, and something else struck her across her back.

Muse was driven to her knees, but doggedly clawed at the cold stone beneath her to get to her feet again, despite the screaming protest of her battered body. She couldn’t let them take her, she had to get the woman back to Dom… had to had to had to… She was almost out of reach, almost out of sight.

“MARIA!” the ragged scream escaped Muse without her realising it, but then a hail of blows rained down upon her until she was once again thrown to the floor, wavering on the verge of unconsciousness, her blood splattered on the stone around her… she coughed, and more blood came from her lips…

Maria had been taken… she’d failed…

“Get up, ‘umaaan.” Hissed the voice of the Theron Guard, and when Muse didn’t obey, he kicked her lightly again, “Get up or sssuffer the consssequencesss…”

Not wanting to receive any more ‘encouragement’, Muse used the rocky wall as leverage as she slowly staggered to her feet before another blow could fall. The fight had gone out of her… Maria was gone…

Unfortunately she wasn’t moving quickly enough for the Theron, and it roughly grasped the scruff of her neck, lifting her bodily off the ground before throwing her into what had once been Maria’s sarcophagus. The door slammed shut with a booming clang and the slat scraped closed, plunging Muse into darkness with the only noise, the sound of her own breathing…

* * *

She didn’t know how many hours she was in the sarcophagus, but it didn’t take Muse long to realise that the caskets were designed to drive their inmates mad. The metal chambers were like sensory depravation chambers; letting in no light or sound other then that of the captive’s own breathing and heartbeat.

Darkness… silence… an endless stretch of time before the inmate with no possible way to measure its passage… It was enough to drive even the strongest mind off the edge…

Muse spiralled into the darkness of her own mind in those seemingly unending hours; a darkness which was blacker then the pit, and more dangerous then the physical darkness pressing on her eyeballs. A darkness from which it was highly possible she would not return from.

She withdrew into herself; her mind leaving behind her useless body just like Maria’s had done…

Maria…

Dom…

Dom…

Abruptly Muse snapped back to herself. She couldn’t give up now, not after all she’d been through. She would not die here.

Fumbling blindly in the dark, Muse found the contents of her hip-pouches thankfully untouched; the pieces of her Longshot and its spare parts, ammunition, what was left of her supplies, the old radio…

And the tools she had scavenged to keep her guns in working order…

Her fingers found the screwdriver and using her sense of touch alone, she set the tool’s blade to the edge of the slat. Working the screwdriver back and forth at the slat, Muse was finally able to pry it open and push it back. Cool air rushed in and she peered out. No one… but at least she could hear what was going on outside now, even if it wasn’t much. A little light also came in through the open slat, and Muse breathed a sigh of relief as sight was returned to her.

Now all she had to do was work out how she was going to get out of her prison. As it turned out, fate had decided to step in and help with that.

Muse had managed to drift off to sleep, crushed up in the bottom of her sarcophagus, when she was suddenly awoken by a sound that was both beautiful and terrible, and brought both hope and dread.

The sound of gunfire.

Ignoring the pain in her legs where her muscles had gone numb and cramped, Muse struggled to her feet and peered out of the slat.

Gears.

There were Gears outside, and they were engaging the Locust in open warfare. The cavern where the Locust brought their prisoners had become a battlefield, and the Gears were advancing at an unstoppable rate.

“Hey!” Muse tried to yell over the noise of fighting, “Hey! Get me out of here!” Despite her voice echoing against the metal sides of her prison, none of the Gears seemed to hear her, and Muse growled in frustration, then she realised that the COG soldiers were using the metal coffins as cover…

Perhaps she could get their attention in another way…

Muse began throwing herself against the sides of the chamber, using all her weight to try and move the mass of rusty metal. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then, very slowly, Muse felt the sarcophagus begin to rock gently on its bottom, the movement becoming more and more evident as she slammed her whole body from side to side.

She heard a cry of surprise from one of the Gears outside, and then the coffin rocked up onto one of it’s bottom edges, teetered for a second, then fell. The metal made a resounding crash that reverberated around the chamber as it hit the rock floor, and then it began to roll down the sloping incline of the path…

“HOLY FREAKIN’ CRAP!” Muse yelped as she was shaken around like a bead in a rattle, “THIS ISN'T WHAT I HAD IN MIND!”

But almost as soon as the helter-skelter ride began, it stopped as Muse’s holding cell crashed into a broken off stalagmite. Muse lay there, dazed for a moment, before she realised that the impact had shaken loose the bolts of the casket’s hinges… she could get out…

Just as she was about to heave the door open however, Muse heard the snarl of a Locust Drone, and saw one peering over the broken stalagmite it had been using for cover to see what the commotion was about. Muse’s eyes widen as the Locust leaned over her prison, but then she bared her teeth and using all her strength, kicked open the door of the sarcophagus as hard as she could.

It gave much easier then she had thought, and the metal door flew open, cracking solidly into the Locust Drone’s face… The monster howled, blinded by pain and blood, and Muse took advantage of the distraction and scrambled out of the coffin, grabbed the Locust’s fallen gun, and filled the staggering creature with lead as an inarticulate scream of fury and triumph left her.

She was out, she was back, she had a gun in her hand and the fires of battle boiled her blood…

And she intended to unleash hell upon anyone that stood in the way of her freedom.

Crossfire
All around her the chaotic noise of battle raged, but Muse was in a place that seemed almost detached from reality. The clamour of the fighting was muted to almost nothing, time slowed down to a crawl, everything stood out in sharp relief, and there was no room in her head for fear or caution; just a cool, clear-headed fury. Nothing existed apart from the next Locust, the next shot, the next kill.

The Hammerburst’s recoil kicked against her shoulder with each shot she fired; bullets whined as they flew around her; a Longshot round streaked past her face leaving a line of white-hot pain in its wake as it grazed her cheek. The slug hit the craggy rock behind her, causing several bits of shrapnel to explode and shower her.

Muse didn’t even flinch. The sniper’s head exploded with a few well-placed bullets.

She only took cover behind the metal sarcophagus that had been her prison, when the Hammerburst’s clip was empty. Tossing the useless gun away, Muse began to reassemble her Longshot as speedily as possible, knowing that without a gun, she was dead. Moments later she was snapping the last part into place, loading one of the high calibre bullets, and systematically blowing the heads off every Locust she could see.

But she was so focused on taking out the farther targets, that she failed to notice the pair of Tickers scuttling towards her position…

Just as they came within range to detonate however, a huge, armoured something landed heavily between them and Muse. Muse only had time to draw her pistol and turn to face the new threat before she saw a massive Gear hit one of the living landmines using his Lancer like a baseball bat. He gave the other one a solid kick, and both Tickers were sent flying to explode harmlessly in mid-air.

The Gear turned to Muse as he also took cover behind the metal coffin, and for a couple of moments they just stared at each other; Muse still pointing the Snub at him, while the Gear experienced a second of disconcerting uncertainty about whether the strange girl he’d just saved was actually going to shoot him out not.

In those few seconds of stillness, Muse took in the scruffy blonde ponytail and brown eyes of the Gear, and realised he’d just saved her sorry hide from becoming Locust barbeque. At that thought she abruptly lowered the gun and holstered it with a small nod of gratitude. He returned the gesture and with the silent acknowledgement of allied soldiers in battle; the Gear kept Muse covered as she once again used the sniper rifle to take out all the Locust that were dumb enough to stick their heads out.

Not even a single word passed between them.

Eventually the tumult died down as the Gears exterminated all the Locust in the vicinity, and Muse sat heavily against the metal sensory deprivation chamber with a sigh. She looked warily at the Gear sitting beside her. He’d saved her from getting blown up, and so for the time being at least Muse decided to give him the benefit out the doubt. However it was still with guarded wariness that she offered a hand.

“Muse…” she said quietly. The Gear looked at her, then at her hand, then he grinned and shook it, taking care to be gentle so he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Clay Carmine.”

A few minutes previously…

Corporal Carmine could honestly say that he had never seen anything quite like it before. He hadn’t seen the metal tank begin rocking, but he couldn’t fail to miss it when the contraption fell over with a crash and rolled down onto the flat plain of the cavern before smacking into one of stalagmites littering the floor.

If that hadn’t been enough, the hatch of the metal tank had then been flung open from the inside and cracked a Locust Drone solidly in the face. After which a girl had scrambled out of the tank, grabbed the Locust’s gun, and cut it down while screaming something incomprehensible.

Now the girl was crouching behind the metal tank and gunning down every Locust she could see. Once the bullets in the Hammerburst ran out, she threw it aside and began quickly assembling what appeared to be a Longshot rifle. Though she made up for it in gut and spirit, the young woman lacked backup, and she wouldn’t last long down there without it - no matter how much courage she had. And Tickers were heading her way.

Clay didn’t even pause to think but immediately broke cover and charged to the edge of the overhang where he’d been fighting. He didn’t break his stride as he neared the drop, but vaulted right off, landing with a bone-shaking thud on the rock floor below. He took out the Tickers without a problem, but when he actually joined the girl behind the metal prison chamber, she pointed a Snub at him, and he wasn’t sure for a brief second if she was going to shoot him or not.

She didn’t though, and after a nod of thanks she just went right on sniping the Locust soldiers opposite them, like a pro. Of course, Clay had encountered lots of Stranded that had decent aim, but never one of them on their own… in the middle of a battlefield… after just coming out of what was apparently a Locust prison cell… Or that looked quite so beaten up; that bite would need seeing too.

After the Locust threat had been successfully annihilated, the girl introduced herself as Muse, and Clay replied in kind, shaking her hand. As been as any more information would have been superfluous at that point, Clay put the questions he wanted to ask aside for the time being and stood; brown eyes looking out over the cavern and the Gears organising themselves.

Throughout the huge cave, the rest of the surviving Gears were forming up into their squads and moving out to sweep the rest of the Hollow, but even though Muse scanned the deploying COG soldiers carefully, she saw none that were heading in their direction, nor that Clay Carmine appeared to recognise as his own squad.

She couldn’t help wondering why…

Maria…

Like a faint scent on the wind, the thought floated through Muse’s mind and all other thoughts were promptly forgotten. Muse felt nauseous; she’d been so caught up in the fight that she’d completely forgotten Maria…

She had to find her. Muse was not leaving this place without Maria Santiago.

“Are you alright?” Clay asked, “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost…” The girl had suddenly turned even paler and more drawn then before and looked a little sick. He watched her blink and look at him sharply, as though she’d forgotten he was there.

“I have to go.” She told him, “I have to find someone.” Clay frowned, his eyebrows coming together in a V.

“Looking for… You mean another Stranded?” In any other situation Muse would have bristled at the label, but now was not the time to argue about semantics. Instead she just nodded.

“She was taken prisoner by the Locust, they took her away just before I got shoved in that tank. I’m not leaving without her.” Clay blinked in surprise at her vehemence.

“She a relative?” Muse hesitated a moment.

“Kinda…” she eventually hedged, “She’s the wife of a friend of mine.”

Clay glanced at all the rusty metal coffins scattered about the cavern and his whole being recoiled at the thought of being incarcerated in one, and yet… He looked at Muse; a young woman barely in her late twenties who had already been shut up in one of the cells, and yet was still willing to risk being caught and imprisoned again just to find someone she hardly knew…

He remembered once being told that the Stranded insisted on scratching out a living in the remains of Sera’s cities because of cowardice. Clay wondered, if one young Stranded would go through so much just to find a friend’s wife, whether it wasn’t cowardice that made them stay at all…

“I’ll come with you.” Only as the words left his mouth did Clay realise that he had already made the decision. Muse seemed just as surprised as he did.

“Come again?”

“I said,” Clay repeated, firmer this time, “I’ll come with you, help you find your friend.”

“What about your squad?”

Her question made him pause; he looked at her for a moment, but then turned his gaze to the wide space of the cavern again before answering.

“Dead. On the way down.” His tone seemed indifferent, but Muse knew enough about masking one’s emotions to recognise that he felt the loss deeply. Unsurprising really, as they’d probably been his friends, his brothers…

“I’m sorry…” Clay made a non-committal noise that Muse took as the signal that he wanted to change the subject.

“So, which way?”

Once again Muse was taken aback, though this time because a Gear was more or less giving her command of the situation. She gathered her thoughts swiftly though, and looked around, replaying the memory in her head.

“That way.” She said once she was sure, and pointed across the cavern. Clay followed her finger and nodded, hoisting his Lancer higher on his shoulder.

“So let’s go.”

Without another word Muse took the lead, and she and Clay Carmine began the trek across the vast expanse of the cavern.

''Hold on Maria. I’m coming.''

End of the Line
Upon reaching the far side of the cavern, Muse and Clay found that it didn’t end as they had expected, but rather folded back on itself before narrowing into a dank tunnel. By now walking whilst watching where they put their feet had become a mechanical process requiring no thought, but neither Muse nor Clay had said a word to each other for some time. When they reached the dark mouth of the tunnel however, both of them paused.

“Once more into the breach, dear friends…” Muse muttered. She glanced at the Gear beside her. He met her gaze and nodded, and Muse plunged into the darkness of the Locust tunnel once more, but this time with Clay at her heels.

It was exactly like every other tunnel Muse had see thus far; dark, damp, and dank. The only light was the phosphorescence of bugs or fungi, and the sound of dripping water in a steady plink plink plink was enough to drive anyone mad. For a moment Muse wondered how the Locust didn’t get lost down here, but then she forced the thought away and focused her mind upon finding Maria.

Suddenly, Clay’s question broke the silence. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“It got bit.” She didn’t elaborate and inwardly Clay sighed; Muse apparently didn’t give up anything easily.

“By what?” he inquired.

“Wretch. It got lucky, until I shot it.”

“It doesn’t look good.” That made Muse pause and Clay watched her peer over her shoulder to examine the wound.

“It needs draining… Mind if we stop a minute?”

Clay mutely shook his head and sat against the wall of the tunnel. Muse sat down a little way away, her back towards him, and Clay watched with horrified fascination as she took off the makeshift bandage and revealed the rest of the cankerous injury. It was oozing thick yellowish pus and the flesh was swollen and inflamed.

With the tired resignation of one who had repeated the process many times, Muse used a fingernail to gently lift the cracked scabs covering the punctures, before pressing out the foul smelling liquid gathered within while using a broken fragment of mirror to see the wound itself. Clay winced as he watched her.

When the swellings had been drained, Muse reached into one of the packs at her hips and pulled out a black strip of fabric that had probably once been a shirt. Before she could awkwardly re-tie the bandage however, Clay stopped her.

“You need to clean it.” Muse looked at him.

“I barely have enough water to keep myself hydrated.”

However Clay inwardly cringed at the idea of just bandaging the horrible injury up again, and went over to her, pulling a flask from his belt.

“Use mine then.” Before Muse could object, he took the swatch of cloth from her, dampened it with water from the flask, and then set about cleaning the bite on her shoulder himself.

Muse was so surprised that she couldn’t even protest and instead just stared at Clay with astonishment. He was frowning in concentration as he gently sponged away the clotted blood and grime; eyes intent and not noticing her gaze until he’d finished cleaning the bite, requested another bit of cloth, and was using it to tightly bandage Muse’s shoulder.

“…What?” he asked when he finally noted the dumbfounded look she was giving him. Muse abruptly came out of the surprised daze and shook her head like a dog dislodging an annoying fly.

“Nothing, just…”

“Just…?” the Gear prompted, winding the material around her shoulder. Muse opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it again and frowned, trying to frame what she wanted to say without sounding completely stupid.

“It’s just…” she finally said, “I’ve been alone for so long… and it seems like forever since anyone’s actually given a damn…” So much for not sounding stupid…

“Ah, well,” Clay chuckled ruefully, “It’s something I picked up off my little brother, he was always the mothering type…”

“You have a brother?”

“Three, actually… Anthony, Ben, and Danny. Ant… Ant died… about six months back… and Ben joined the Gears only a while ago. Haven’t heard from him yet. Danny’s still at home with mom.” The blonde smiled vaguely to himself, obviously recalling fond memories of his family during better times.

Muse watched him with something close to enthralled. Of her own memories, those that she could describe as ‘fond’ were far and few between, and were mostly before she had been twelve years old, before the Locust… Clay finished tying off the bandage and neatly tucked in the ends. Muse stretched the arm and rotated her shoulder slightly, noting how the limb seemed to move much easier now, even if it still hurt like hell when the bite wound was pulled the wrong way.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Clay stood and offered a hand to help her up. Muse accepted it, and he pulled her to her feet.

Shouldering their guns, the pair once again set off down the tunnel after Maria, though now instead of silence, Clay recounted stories of his childhood and memories of his family. Muse listened to him speak in silence; she knew that Clay didn’t really need an active participant in the conversation, just someone to listen. When he did finally fall silent, Muse quietly mulled on everything he’d talked about.

His dead father… his mother left to do her best to raise her sons right… his four brothers…

His family…

Muse felt depressed as she remembered her own family and everyone she’d lost. Her father killed by the Locust only about a week after E-Day. Her mother killed on the day the Locust attacked the city she’d grown up in. She had no siblings, but those children that had survived the attack on the convoy had become her family. And then they had been taken too.

I don’t have a family anymore…

What about Dom? The small voice emanated from the back of her mind as a whisper, and yet it silenced all other thoughts. ''What would you risk for him, and Marcus, and Maria? How far would you go for them? What are you really fighting for?''

Muse considered that question. What was she fighting for? What was she willing to risk just to find Maria? How far would she go for Dom and Marcus?

And it suddenly occurred to her exactly what she was fighting this war for.

It wasn’t just to kill as many Locust as she could. It wasn’t even just to avenge all her dead.

It was for Dom, and Marcus, and Maria…

Muse realised that she’s been wrong.

She did have a family. And it was them whom she was fighting for.

* * *

The light was perpetually dim and murky down in the Locust tunnels, and so it was impossible for Muse to determine for how long she and Clay walked before they reached the end of the passage. She was slightly infront of Clay as the tunnel opened out, and so she was the first to see the honeycomb of paths that twisted and turned and went in every direction.

Upon seeing it, Muse’s heart immediately dropped; how could they possibly follow Maria through this? She didn’t even have the first idea which where to go… Clay came up beside her and by the steadying hand he placed on Muse’s shoulder, he was experiencing similar thoughts.

For a long while they stood in silence, and Muse felt the helplessness engulf her. But just as she was on the verge of giving up, she heard Clay’s quiet voice.

“Which way…?”

Just knowing that Clay was willing to follow her into the unknown, even when she had no idea where she was going or even if she’d be in time to rescue Maria, made a lump rise in Muse’s throat. She swallowed it down though, and shot him a brief, grateful smile before gazing out over the tangle of paths. Seeing that one of them appeared wider then the others, as though it were the main thoroughfare, Muse pointed it out to Clay.

“There…” Clay didn’t argue, and the Gear and Stranded headed deeper into the labyrinth.

Eventually, Muse’s instincts paid off as she and Clay followed the main Locust road until it led them to what apparently served as a dock - if the huge barge that seemed to be part animal and part machine, was anything to go by. It clung to the rocks above and hung beside an outcrop of rock over a deep crevasse, bubbling Imulsion far below, adorned with cages suspended on chains. Even from where they stood, Muse could hear the tortured screams coming from inside…

Maria…

Before she could storm the barge however, the pair were spotted by the Locust patrolling the dock, and a roar of fury and hatred rose from the pale monsters. Bullets began to fly, forcing Muse and the Gear to take cover from the deadly hail behind the metal sarcophagus scattered about the docks.

“We have to get to that barge!” Muse bellowed as rounds thundered into the metal of the prison cell she was using as a shield. Across from her, behind his own coffin, Clay nodded and blind-fired with his Lancer, allowing Muse a couple of seconds to snatch a glance of what they were up against.

A handful of Drones and four of the hulking giants that carried the bigger, nastier weapons; one, a rather gnarly-looking mace and massive shield, another, some kind of flamethrower, the third was one of the more common Boomers, and the fourth had a Mulcher chain gun.

“Crap,” Muse muttered before ducking back behind the holding cell as the Locust returned Clay’s fire, “They mean business!” she yelled to the Gear as she relayed the enemy’s forces. Clay nodded and hefted a grenade from his belt, lobbing it as far as he could before resuming to blind-fire his Lancer.

With Clay’s Lancer fire acting as a diversion, Muse used the Longshot to take down the Locust Drones as quickly as possible. The cool calmness that she normally assumed in battle was overridden by thoughts of Maria; the desperation to get to her, the near-blinding terror that she wouldn’t reach her in time, and the mantra of her name that repeated itself in Muse’s head.

It was all in vain. Before even half of the Locust on the dock had been put down, the barge began to move. Muse caught the movement from the corner of her eye and instantly all else was forgotten.

“MARIA!”

She was almost tempted to break cover and run for the barge, but Clay seemed to see her thoughts and roared at her.

“MUSE, STAY DOWN!”

Muse heard his shout, even over the barrage as the Locust focused their fire on her position, and even though it went against all her instincts, Muse remained where she was as the prison barge pulled away from the docks, now impossible to follow. Maria was gone, out of reach. And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. For a moment, Muse was rendered unable to do anything at all…

“Hold it together!” Clay’s voice suddenly reached her again, “Keep shooting or we’re both dead!”

His voice jolted Muse out of her trance, and her shock was replaced by the familiar cold fury. Turning her rage and frustration over losing Maria onto the Locust, Muse proceeded to squeeze off round after round from the Longshot, feeling a burst of savage joy as the heads of her targets exploded.

Unfortunately, even when all the Drones and the Boomer had been neutralised, it still left three of the bigger Locust to deal with, and the one with the shield was starting to move forward.

“We gotta Mauler!” Clay bellowed, “Aim for the legs! Use the Snub!”

Muse obeyed, switching her Longshot for her pistol and pumping entire clips of bullets into the massive Locust’s kneecaps. At first the Locust just kept coming, but then it sagged to its knees under the assault, and a head full of bullets finished it off.

“Take out that Flamer!” Clay ordered, “Clip its tank!”

Again the woman nodded and used her Longshot to fire a single round at the Locust wielding a flamethrower. The long bullet hit the tank on the Locust’s back and a spurt of flame issued from the hole. The Locust had a second to realise it was dead, and then the tank exploded, taking the last Locust - the one with the Mulcher gun - with it.

The echoes of the battle finally faded, and as silence once more descended, Muse’s fingers flexed on the warm barrel of the Longshot as she let out a breath; leaning back against the metal sarcophagus, letting her eyes close. She felt exhausted, and realised that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually slept…

A hand suddenly squeezed her shoulder and Muse jumped, her eyes quickly snapping open. It was Clay, his expression sympathetic and concerned.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. Muse knew he was talking about Maria rather then the battle, and immediately felt a guilty leaden weight in her stomach. She pushed her fingers under the cap and through her hair, and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah I’m alright…”

As Clay patted her shoulder and the two left the docks, now turning their minds to getting out of the Locust caverns, Muse belatedly wondered if she would ever be truly alright again. By the look on Clay’s face when he glanced at her, he was wondering the same thing.

Haunted
The lack of sleep was finally catching up with her. That, or she’d been running on adrenaline for so long that her body was just packing in at last. Though, when she couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d had a decent sleep that wasn’t just a couple of hours snatched here and there, it was unsurprising how fatigued Muse was.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had the time or found a safe place to sleep since leaving Vidandear either. In reality, Muse was too scared to even close her eyes… too afraid to see the images burned into her retinas…

She realised that she could remember the last time she’d been able to sleep without waking only a couple of hours later in a cold sweat. It was before her camp had been razed… before all her people had been butchered… before the nightmares of the horrors she’d seen…

Her drive to find Maria had been fuelling her since she’d come down into the Locust tunnels and seen Dom’s wife among the Stranded prisoners. But with Maria now beyond her reach, that drive, that adrenaline, had almost completely dissipated, and it now took all of Muse’s concentration just to stay on her feet. And the longer Muse staved off her body’s need to rest, the slower her pace became, until eventually she was reduced to stumbling wearily along behind Clay, barely able to stay upright and several times almost falling over.

Every time she did stumble, Clay paused and looked back at her, obviously concerned; asking if she was okay and if she wanted to take a break yet. And every time, Muse refused; refused his offers of help, and refused to rest.

Eventually Clay had had enough. He’d had enough of Muse’s pig-headed stubbornness to keep pushing herself beyond her limits. He’d had enough of her refusals of his help. He’d had enough of her insisting she was fine when she obviously wasn’t. Muse needed sleep, her whole body was crying out for rest. He could see the way her legs shook with the effort to keep going, and he wasn’t going to let her do this to herself anymore.

He stopped walking, and turned around. Muse only noticed when she bumped into his chest, and she looked up at him tiredly.

“Hrm?”

“You’re completely worn out,” he said quietly, “You need to sleep.”

“M’fine.” Muse mumbled, attempting to push past him, but Clay caught her arms.

“Yeah, get your brains blown out just fine if we get into another fire fight.” He retorted.

Muse scowled half-heartedly at him, but her tired eyes told him he was right; she was exhausted and her body needed to rest and rejuvenate as soon as possible.

“C’mon…” Clay half led, half carried her into one of the smaller dead-end passages that branched off the tunnel they were currently in, and made her sit down, settling himself beside her. “Sleep.” He told her firmly, holding one arm open and tapping his shoulder with his other hand. It was just testament to how fatigued she was, that Muse didn’t put up any resistance and was soon fast asleep, leaning against the Gear with his arm around her shoulders.

Clay watched the slumbering woman for a moment and wondered what sort of hell she must have gone through to look so utterly worn. He noted the dark circles under her eyes, and the way she seemed to only be skin and bone. The short dark hair that brushed her jawline was lank and unkempt, and her skin was smudged with dirt and blood and sweat. She had dirt under her nails, and numerous scars on just her arms and hands. She looked like a woman starved, hurt, and at the end of her tether…

Letting out a puff of breath the blonde Gear looked away from the woman leaning on him, and instead gazed back down the tunnel, keeping watch for Locust. Something told him that no matter how strong Muse appeared to be, she was on the verge of cracking, it was only a question of when.

Not even an hour later, Muse jerked awake with a gasp; cold sweat drenching her and trickling down her back as her entire body trembled. She heard Clay’s concerned voice asking what was wrong but as though from far away, and only when her panting breaths and pounding heart had slowed, could she answer him.

“I’m…I’m fine…” she murmured, closing her eyes and rubbing her face, “Just a nightmare…” She leaned forward with a sigh, face in her hands as she massaged her temples and tried to force the bloodstained images of her dreams from her mind. After a moment she dropped her hands to see Clay looking at her with a strange expression; half sceptical, half considering. “What?”

“…Is that why you don’t sleep?”

“Is… what why I don’t sleep…” By her uneasy tone, Clay could tell that she knew exactly what he meant.

“The nightmares.” There was a silence as Muse looked at him with a kind of horror, as though he’d discovered her darkest secret. Then, in an admirable attempt to brush off his question, she hastily wiped all evidence of the emotion from her face, and let out an amused sound.

“You think I haven’t slept for so long because of nightmares? That’s ridicu-”

“Sometimes I still have nightmares of things I saw years ago…”

His calm confession made Muse abruptly fall silent, and she gazed at him with shock, wonder, and a small measure of disbelief in her icy-coloured gaze. Clay nodded then turned his eyes to the opposite wall of the tunnel, though it was obvious that he was staring beyond it.

“It’s true… First time you see an E-hole come up, or the aftermath of a Locust attack on civilians… it haunts you. I can still remember my first fight against the Locust and the day I first saw one of my teammates fall, like it was yesterday. That sort of thing can give anyone nightmares enough so they never want to sleep again…” He looked down at Muse to find her looking away uncomfortably. “So what about you?” he asked softly, “What have you seen, Muse…”

Muse chewed her lip for a long moment, not answering. Eventually though, in a low voice, she began to tell him everything.

“Where I lived was attacked when I was twelve… my dad had… had been killed by the Locust about a week before, so it was just me and mum… Mum… she… she made me hide in a cubby hole I had in my room… I heard her die…”

Muse let out a shaky breath and the arm around her shoulders tightened briefly, encouragingly.

“I-ah… I was alone for a while, but then I… I joined a convoy of refugees heading for Jacinto, only… we never made it… The Locust attacked, and everyone was killed… ‘cept for me and a few other kids… I tried to… get them back to Vidandear, find a place we could bunker down until the COG got around to finding us… but four of the kids died on the way… and no one came for us…” she looked at him, and he could see the hurt and betrayal in her eyes. “The COG didn’t come for us… they left us out there…” She dropped the gaze again before continuing.

“For fourteen years, we managed to survive… and then after the Lightmass bombing… the camp got a call for help from one of our patrols. I went, with one of the others, see if we could help before more backup arrived… but the distress call had been…staged…by the Locust, as a diversion, to get the soldiers away from the camp… The camp was attacked… and… by the time I got back… it was too late… They’d… they’d killed every-everyone… butchered them like-like animals… I… I found them… what was left…”

Muse’s voice faltered as she once again saw the inside of the safe room in her mind, and she felt the tears claw at her throat and prickle her eyes. She swallowed hard, trying to force the tears back, but despite her best efforts they came anyway; silently snaking down her cheeks. She swore softly and attempted to roughly wipe them away with the heels of both hands, but Clay’s touch on her arm made her pause and look at him.

“It wasn’t your fault…” he said, looking at her intently. Muse didn’t ask how he knew she blamed herself for the deaths of every Stranded in that camp, but instead looked away from him and rose quickly.

“We should get going.”

She adamantly refused to meet Clay’s eyes as she checked her gear. She didn’t want to see the sympathy she knew would be in his face, she didn’t want his pity. Muse just wanted to forget this conversation had ever happened; forget that she’d cracked and Clay had seen passed the iron-cold mask she’d erected, even if only for a moment.

But she couldn’t ignore him when he turned her around and tugged her into a hug.

“It’s not your fault, Muse.” the Gear said quietly, “Stop punishing yourself. You’re not alone anymore.”

His arms were strong and solid, his chestplate cool against Muse’s cheek, and he was alive. Clay was still a warm, living, breathing person, and it was that more then anything else that made Muse squeeze her eyes shut and clutch him tightly.

For a long moment they stood in silence, the Gear holding the Stranded girl firmly while she clung to him as though he was the last person in the universe. Despite his reassurances that she wasn’t alone, Muse couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d be before he was cut down by the curse that had dogged her steps since she had been twelve.

How long it’d be, before Clay too was killed by the Locust, just like everyone else she had ever cared about…

Once they were on the move again, Clay insisted that they keep their heads down. If given the choice Muse would have engaged every group of Locust that they came across, but Clay knew that they had more chance of getting to the surface alive if they kept a low profile, and eventually he managed to convince Muse to avoid any fire fights as they crept through the Locust tunnels.

Clay was walking infront, Lancer at the ready just in case, when he heard Muse stumble again. Immediately he turned around, and saw Muse leaning against the tunnel wall, head hanging and panting shallowly.

“Muse?” the Gear quickly backtracked until he was beside the girl, “Muse, what’s wrong?” Muse looked up at him; she was panting and looked almost dazed.

“I just… came over all weak and lethargic all of a sudden… almost fell over…” She pushed herself upright and took a deep breath, “M’okay now, it’s gone.” Clay wasn’t put at ease.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“Clay, I’m fine, probably just these damn claustrophobic tunnels.”

Despite Muse brushing off the episode as nothing, Clay kept an eye on her; making sure she was hydrated, and also insisting that she eat one of his ration bars every couple of hours, especially since her own rations were running low and the bars had more beneficial nutrients anyway. Though Muse repeatedly told him she was fine and he was worrying too much, she acquiesced to the Gear’s wishes if only to keep him happy.

Eventually, without having any serious encounters with the Locust, Muse and Clay finally reached the surface; climbing up a steep slope of scree and rubble, using the bits of broken pipe as handholds, they finally came up out of an open emergence hole.

Clay was out first; hauling himself up over the lip of the hole before going down on one knee and reaching back in to help Muse up after him. Muse came out into the radiance of a magnificent dawn, blinking against the light she had been bereft of for so long. Clay watched her as she looked around in something akin to awe, as though she’d forgotten what the sun and the sky looked like.

When she suddenly sank to her knees, the Gear at first feared something was wrong, but then Muse spread her arms, as though embracing the whole world, let her head fall back, and laughed. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face… she was alive…

Crash and Burn
The pleasure of being in the sun again soon wore off and became a pain as Muse trudged through the heat whilst sweat poured off her. It seemed that she was pausing to wipe her forehead every few seconds, and the constant warmth beating down on her back and shoulders was starting to sap her energy. She felt tired and a little faint, and a headache was starting to make itself known behind her temples.

When she mentioned her discomfort to Clay, he paused and went over to her, noting how she’d fallen behind. He checked her eyes to find them slightly glassy and unfocused, and - unable to check any other way - pressed her forehead to his cheek to get an idea of her temperature. She was very hot to the touch. Clay felt a flash of anxiety and his thoughts immediately went to the bite on her shoulder; was her high temperature just a result of being in the merciless sun, or was it the much more ominous possibility of the bite becoming septicaemic?

Able to do little else, Clay made Muse sit down in the shade of some rubble while he unwrapped and tended to her shoulder. The wound was putrid and Clay fought back his gag reflex as the smell wafted up to him; the flesh around the punctures was still oozing pus and blood, but had now become vaguely green. Taking the bundle of cloth from Muse’s hip-pack, the Gear soaked several of the strips in water before painstakingly cleaning the wound. Muse winced as he touched the tender skin.

“M’sorry,” Clay murmured, “But I have to clean this.”

“S’okay.” Muse mumbled, then; “Why aren’t you meltin’?” The way her voice was slurring only added to Clay’s concern, but he kept it out of his tone when he answered.

“My armour’s semi temperature-controlled.”

“Lucky you…”

Clay finished cleaning the bite, and bandaged it up again. Then he pulled his water flask from his belt and offered it to her, telling her to drink. Muse took the bottle without argument, and drank slowly, as though even that small effort made her weary. Her docile compliance served to worry Clay further; he was so used to Muse being strong and independent that this quiet, obedient creature was a little disconcerting.

Muse drank as much of the water as she could, then rubbed her face with a sigh, elbows on knees and eyes closed. She felt a little better, but still utterly drained; her very bones ached, and she just wanted to sleep. It was suddenly so hard to open her eyes…

Her whole body jerked when the small radio in her bag let out a harsh scream of static, and Muse looked up, eyes half-lidded.

Clay also looked up at the sound, and watched Muse fumble a moment before pulling a battered radio out of one of her packs. It looked like one of the old block-shaped walkie-talkies from before the Pendulum Wars, except it was obviously only a receiving unit. Despite its age though, after Muse had adjusted the knob on the top, the static cleared a little, and a breathless female voice came through.

''-peat, this is KR Three-Six requesting immediate assistance. We’re taken a hit and we’re down. Requesting immediate pickup for five survivors including Chairman Prescott and Colonel Hoffman. This is KR Three-Six, we’re-''

Muse’s gaze snapped up to meet Clay’s as the pilot relayed her coordinates; his dark eyes were wide. The political and military leaders of the COG on a downed Raven, near to their own position… Why weren’t they at Jacinto? Muse could see the warring emotions on the blonde’s face - torn between his duty to the COG and his worry about her health - and made the decision for him.

“We have to go.” She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring her own aches and pains, and allowed the sudden surge of adrenaline to bolster her failing body, briefly assuaging her fatigue. However Clay saw the muscle tremors as her legs fought to hold her up, and shook his head.

“Muse… no… One of the other Ravens will pick them up.” She turned her eyes on him, the green-blue still glassy and ringed with dark circles, but nevertheless determined.

“If anyone’s been injured they could be dying, and it won’t be long before the Locust are drawn to the crash site. We have to go.”

She was right; they were closer and would probably reach the downed Raven before anyone else did. Clay sighed and stood, knowing it was pointless to argue. Putting aside his worry for the woman for the time being, Clay put a finger to his Tac Com and responded to the mayday.

“This is Corporal Carmine, we read you KR Three-Six, we’re heading to your position, hold tight.” Muse didn’t hear the reply, but as soon as Clay finished speaking, they were off; heading to the downed Raven as fast as they could.

* * *

Anya Stroud coughed as the dust settled, and looked around, for a moment wondering where she was. She remembered being evacuated from Jacinto before it had been sunk, and she remembered seeing Marcus, Dom, and Damon Baird on another Raven. She remembered the look Marcus had given her… Anya frowned as she tried to remember what had happened after that.

The convoy of Ravens holding the last of the evacuees had been heading to the location of the new base, the Vidandear metropolis, chosen because it was harder for the Locust to come up there, and… what had happened? Anya concentrated. The Raven she was on had been flying over a city, not Vidandear, another city, and… and…

There was a Seeder…

It was coming back to the intelligence officer now; the convoy had been attacked by Nemacysts. One Raven had been hit directly and gone down, the pilot’s last act in life to make sure the chopper hit the Seeder; killing it stone-dead. Unfortunately before going down, the helicopter had glanced KR Three-Six, sending it spinning off-course. They’d crashed too.

Anya looked around again. From what she could tell, the Raven was on its side and wedged between two buildings of which one had partially collapsed - half burying the chopper and making it impossible for those inside to get out. Distantly, she could hear the pilot sending out a distress call.

Beside her, a large something shifted and grunted, and Augustus Cole pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning softly.

“Urg…what happened, baby?” he muttered to Anya, “Feels like I just got smacked by a Berserker…”

“We crashed,” Anya whispered, “I think we’re trapped.” Cole let out another groan and rubbed his aching skull. Meanwhile, the other survivors were stirring and Anya let out a sigh of relief as she made out both the Chairman and the Colonel, apparently unharmed except for a few scrapes and bruises. The pilot managed to climb out of the cockpit and into the loading bay of the chopper. She too was unharmed apart from a gash on her forehead.

“I sent out a distress call. There’s another King Raven en route to come and pick us up, and I got a response from a Corporal Carmine who’s also heading to our position. All we have to do is wait.” She said.

“What about that Seeder?” Hoffman demanded, “Did you see any more birds go down?” It left a bitter taste in his mouth to think that the passengers of the Raven which had crashed into the Seeder had survived so much, only to die when they were so close to home. The pilot shook her head and shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know sir, I didn’t see anyone else go down before we got clipped.”

Hoffman made an ‘hm’ noise, but didn’t say any more. An almost nervous silence fell, and Anya quietly suffered the apprehensive snakes writhing in her stomach; had Marcus been on that other Raven? She tried not to think about it, but her mind seemed unable to stay away from the thought, causing a squirm of fear each time.

All of a sudden there was a thump on the metal above them, followed by the sound of something scuttling across the surface of the crashed chopper. Five pairs of eyes tracked its progress above their heads, and Hoffman slowly cocked his Boltok pistol.

“Wretch…” he growled softly.

With strained ears, the rest of the group listened to the scuffling as it changed to a scraping noise; as though the something on the Raven was digging through the loose rubble which half buried it.

“Get ready…” the Colonel murmured to Cole. The black Gear levelled his Lancer and nodded.

The scraping sounds continued for a moment, and then a thin spear of light shone into the dark interior of the chopper as whatever was digging managed to clear away some of the rubble blocking the open side of the helicopter, and the sun broke through.

“FIRE!”

Bullets sprayed from the muzzle of Cole’s Lancer, and the blast of the powerful Boltok almost deafened those trapped in the Raven as the two Gears opened fire.

Outside, Muse heard the command to open fire, and flung herself out of the way just in time. The rounds punched through the weakened metal plating which she had been kneeling on a moment before, and roared passed her; mere inches from where she lay sprawled on her back.

“What the hell!? CLAY!” Muse yelled at the Gear who was working to clear away the larger chunks of rubble pinning the chopper, “I thought you said they knew we were coming! They’re freakin’ shooting at me!” Even as she finished shouting though, the gunfire ceased and Muse heard shuffling coming from inside the Raven. Cole’s voice came through the hole she’d dug, a moment later.

“Muse baby! Is that you?” At the familiar voice, Muse crawled over to the hole she’d made.

“Cole?”

“Hey baby!” the Gear crowed exuberantly.

“Seriously, is that how the Cole Train greets all this friends, by shooting at them?” Muse heard the huge black man laugh loudly.

“Sorry, baby, we thought you were a Wretch.”

“Charming, is everyone alright in there?” Before Cole could answer, another voice abruptly interrupted.

“Who is that? We were told Corporal Carmine had responded to our distress call.” Muse recognised that voice, the last time she’d heard it; it was speaking rallying words to Gears about to attack the Locust on their own turf…

“He did Chairman, he’s currently trying to get the wall that’s blocking you in off the bird.” Somehow she managed to simultaneously sound respectful and patronising…

“So who the hell are you?”

“Just a Stranded, so you can easily ignore me…which you seem to be good at.”

Silence from inside the Raven. Muse went back to clearing as much rubble as she could.

Clay meanwhile worked a length of metal girder under the section of collapsed wall pinning the helicopter. Once he’d gotten the lever wedged under the rubble, the Gear put all his weight against the metal girder and bore down. Muscles bulged and strained, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, the section of wall began to shift.

“Muse! It’s moving! Get out of the way!”

Muse obeyed, and with a scrape and rumble that sounded like a small landslide, the rubble finally slid off the chopper, throwing up a cloud of dust. For a moment there was nothing but blindness and coughing, then the dust cleared and Muse saw Cole climb out of the Raven, helping first Anya out, then the female pilot, then Chairman Richard Prescott. Colonel Victor Hoffman hauled himself out last.

The Chairman brushed dust from his grey dress uniform, looking up as Clay approached them and saluted briefly.

“Chairman, Colonel Hoffman.”

“Corporal,” Prescott returned, “My thanks for coming to help us.”

“Thank you, sir,” he gestured to Muse, “But if we haven’t picked up your mayday on Muse’s radio, we wouldn’t have known to come at all.”

The leader of the COG looked at the dark-haired Stranded woman, Muse, standing a little way away. Her gaze was cold and unfriendly; just as hostile as he would have expected any Stranded to be towards COG officials. She held his gaze for a moment, then looked toward the Corporal in an obvious dismissal.

“We should move, Locust’ll be attracted to the crash site.” Just as Clay nodded, Hoffman cut in; he’d been watching Muse with wary mistrust since pulling himself out of the chopper.

“And what makes you such a Locust expert? Why would you even help any members of the COG?”

“Fourteen years of surviving them without the luxury of an almost impregnable base.” Muse answered in a voice without any inflection. “And because it turns my stomach to leave people to die. We should move.”

Without waiting to see if anyone was actually following her, Muse hopped down from the wreck of the crashed Raven and began walking, striving to keep her annoyance in check. The COG were responsible for the scorching of Sera, for abandoning maybe thousands of people, and killing billions more, and yet they had the audacity to look at her like she was some kind of insect.

A few moments later Clay caught up with her, catching her shoulder and turning her around. Muse caught a glimpse of the five editions to their group following behind; apparently Clay had come ahead to catch up with her.

“What was that about?” he said quietly, “You almost looked like a cornered dog back there…”

“Can you blame me?” Muse snapped back, barely restraining her irritation. She checked herself at the hurt look on Clay’s face and continued more calmly. “I’m probably looking at the two men that okayed the burning of Sera and abandoned most of the population. I’m not going exactly going to be chummy. The sooner we can get them to a pickup, the better.”

“…You almost sound as though you’re not going to come with us…” Muse looked at the Gear sharply.

“Why should I?” Clay took his time answering; he didn’t want to upset Muse, but he also wanted her to see why refusing to come with them was foolhardy and stupid.

“You don’t have anyone else. If you come with us, you won’t be alone…”

Muse suddenly thought of the rest of Delta Squad, Dom… Marcus… even Baird… what she wouldn’t give to see familiar faces again…

She relented with a sigh.

“Fine, I’ll come with you… but this doesn’t mean I’m all for the COG now. I won’t follow their orders.”

“I understand.”

Muse watched the blonde glance back at the five survivors, checking up on them. “Go back to them,” she told him quietly, “I just need to think for a minute…” Clay looked at her for a long moment, then nodded and fell back, leaving Muse alone with her thoughts.

Bare Your Teeth
''I won’t give in. I won’t back down. I won’t withdraw. I will Stand My Ground.''

While Muse walked ahead of the group, constantly on the lookout for Locust, she mulled over her options and decided what she was going to do. If she was honest, she didn’t relish the idea of returning with the others to the COG stronghold; the thought of subjecting herself to their authority, to their laws and ideals, grated on her. To her, the COG’s so-called moral values were nothing but slogans and propaganda, and surrendering herself to them seemed like lying…

But Clay had hit a nerve without realising it; Muse didn’t want to be alone. The mere thought terrified her more then she would like to admit, and being reunited with Cole had only made her realise how much she missed Dom. He was all she had left now.

Besides, she’d have more opportunity to kill Locust and make a difference if she was with the Gears, and it wasn’t as though the COG had power over her enough to forbid her to fight or obey any of their fascist laws. She owed them no allegiance and no obedience. With her camp gone and all of her friends dead, there were now only five people in the world that she had any loyalty too, and that loyalty was of her own choice. How far would you go for them? The question was whispered in the back of her mind, but now Muse knew the answer as surely as she knew her own name.

For however far and however long it takes for me to see them again…

Even if it meant going to the end of the world and surrendering herself to a government she hated.

* * *

“We cannot trust the Stranded,” Prescott said with flat finality, “They have no respect for the COG or Gears.”

“With all due respect sir,” Anya replied, looking a little uncomfortable to be contradicting a superior, “I think that the fact she came with the Corporal to help us proves she can be trusted…”

The Chairman scoffed. “That could easily be part of her own agenda.”

Clay, who had been following the exchange with growing annoyance while taking his turn as vanguard for the two non-combatants and the Colonel, suddenly couldn’t be silent any longer and spoke up in Muse’s defence.

“I vouch for her.”

Prescott didn’t look convinced, but Hoffman was more pragmatic; he knew that if they were to have the best chance of survival, they needed all the help they could get. Who knew better how to survive out here then the Stranded?

The Colonel looked at Clay intently. “Do you really think she can be trusted, Corporal?”

“Yes sir.” Clay said without hesitation. He looked pointedly at the Chairman, “Muse hates the COG and all it stands for, just like all Stranded, but she also values the same principles that we do, even if she doesn’t admit it. To her, honour is paramount, and if she says she’ll get you to a safe pickup point, that’s what she’ll do.”

It was the solid conviction in Clay’s voice that convinced Hoffman, and for a moment the Colonel watched the young woman walking ahead of them in quiet consideration. She held the Longshot in both hands and her eyes were constantly moving; always wary, always alert. If he hadn’t known better, Hoffman would have thought she was a Gear…

“Chairman,” he said eventually, “Command’s gone, the Tac Com’s receiving tech is shot. That girl has a working radio, and also knows how best to survive out here. I don’t think we have a choice about trusting her or not. Right now, we need her.”

Prescott looked at the other man incredulously, but Hoffman’s expression was serious and the Chairman finally conceded, though grudgingly. The Colonel was right; they had no choice. Clay meanwhile, looked shocked.

“Control’s gone?” It was Anya that broke the news to him.

“We sank Jacinto.” She said soberly, “The Locust stronghold was right underneath. We sank the whole plateau before they could, and flooded the Hollow with seawater.”

“So the Locust’re gone?”

Hoffman snorted. “Son, if only we were that lucky.”

“Their main base is gone,” Anya explained to the blonde Gear, “But I doubt all the Locust were in the Hollow. The best we can hope for is that they’ve lost so many that they won’t be able to rebuild their numbers to any substantial strength.”

Muse’s voice suddenly came to them from up ahead.

“We gotta another transmission coming through!”

Immediately the party made their way over - Clay calling to Cole who was a little way back acting as rearguard along with the pilot - and got to Muse just in time to hear the message as it was repeated.

''Repeat, if the survivors of the KR Three-Six crash can hear this, get to the roof of the Crysler Hotel on seventh and ninth for pickup. This is KR Two-Seven, if the survivors-''

“Where the hell is the Crysler Hotel?” Hoffman muttered, voicing the thoughts of all the COG members of the group. But Muse was Stranded; she’d passed through this city after she’d left Vidandear, and she’d learnt how to find her way around by memorising where the main landmarks were with and without street signs.

“It’s on the main street,” she said, “Only about twenty minutes from here. S’massive so we can’t miss it.”

She began to lead the way without another word, and Clay shared a glance with Cole, the meaning of the look obvious; Muse didn’t know about Jacinto. The huge black Gear nodded, and Clay left the main body of the group to join Muse a little in front.

“Jacinto’s gone.” He told her quietly and without preamble. She looked at him sharply, and the ill-concealed horror on her expression told him that she understood the seriousness of the statement.

“What…?” she whispered in shock, “How?” Clay repeated what Anya had told him.

Even though Muse turned her face away to look forward once more, Clay saw the ashen look of gut-wrenching anxiety on her face. She swallowed, and kept her eyes ahead as she asked the question which she dreaded the answer too. “Delta Squad… do you know if they…”

She couldn’t even finish, and despite trying to keep her voice steady, Clay clearly heard the tremble in it. He squeezed her shoulder.

“Did you know someone in Delta Squad?” He asked. Muse nodded, unable to verbally answer. There was a lump in her throat, and her chest suddenly seemed empty except for the flailing heart that pounded against her ribcage. Clay squeezed her shoulder again. “I don’t know who made it…” he admitted softly.

Muse’s breathing became a little ragged, and she squeezed her eyes closed while her own voice clamoured in her head.

They’re dead… Dom, Marcus… gods, even Baird… they’re gone…

“I have to speak to Cole.”

Clay looked a little surprised as she suddenly spoke, but he didn’t miss the urgency in her tone and so didn’t ask but just watched as she went over to the huge Gear.

“Cole.”

He seemed to know that Muse wanted to talk about something serious as soon as she said his name; instead of his usual loud enthusiastic greeting, he was unnaturally sombre and subdued.

“Hey, baby…”

“Clay told me about…” Cole was nodding before she had even finished.

“And you’re thinking about Marcus, Dom, and Damon, right?”

“Yeah…” Muse’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “Did they…”

“I don’t know, baby.” Cole murmured miserably, “I mean, I saw them on a King Raven, all three of ‘em, so they got out of Jacinto, but…” he sighed softly, “On the way here… some of the choppers… they crashed. We got clipped by another ‘copter that was hit by some random Seeder’s Nemacysts. I don’t know if any others went down after us…” He patted Muse’s shoulder gently. “But I’m sure they’re alright, baby…”

Muse nodded though she only vaguely heard him, and left Cole to have a couple of moments alone to think. It felt like someone had closed steel fingers her heart and was trying to wrench it out of her ribcage, but Muse refused to fall to pieces; she couldn’t break now. Right now she had a purpose to fulfil, she had to get these people to the Crysler and back to the COG. Once she was out of this hell hole and could find a few minutes to herself in a place where she could be alone, maybe then-

Prescott’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“If we endure and keep fighting, we will defeat the Locust.”

Maybe it was because right then she wasn’t sure whether the only people left in the world that she cared about had died in the endure and keep fighting. Maybe it was Prescott’s blind stupidity about the Locust being defeated, rooted in the fact he’d never been on the frontline against them. Whatever the reason, Muse felt the familiar sensation of her misery being replaced by a helpless anger that needed to lash out at someone.

“Really?” Her voice was icy and cutting, “Endure and keep fighting? Well bang up job you’re doing so far. You’re no better then the Locust.” Prescott rounded on her, every inch of his frame rigid with righteous fury.

“I’d remind you that the Locust have slaughtered countless people!” he retorted, little knowing that he was neatly scratching Muse’s sudden itch for a fight, for some kind of emotional release.

“Yeah, and what did you do after E-Day?” she countered, her tone remaining calm and even, sarcastic and biting. “You used the Hammers to scorch ninety percent of the entire freaking planet, killing billions - you get that? - billons of your own damn species. That’s more people you’ve killed in one day, then the Locust have during fifteen years of warfare. So well done, maybe you’ll get another medal for it.”

Muse didn’t give him time to respond; she’d said her piece and now felt a little calmer. Instead she stalked off and returned to take point. The twenty minutes it would take to reach the Crysler suddenly seemed like an eternity.

I hate COG brass…

* * *

“There it is.” Muse finally murmured, gesturing to the huge building ahead of them. “The Crysler Hotel.”

Even in its dilapidated state, it was obvious that the Crysler had once been a fine structure; there were remnants of crenulated pillars, and the chips and scorches could not completely hide the smooth beige stone that it was built of. Muse allowed herself a silent sigh of relief as she led the group across the wide avenue of main street towards the hotel. Almost there.

She was soon to discover that she’d spoken too soon.

Upon climbing the front steps, Muse eased open one of the hotel’s wide front doors and peered into the lobby. It was huge, dark, and empty of life. The stone parquet floor was ruptured and cracked, even cratered in some places, and the couple of interior pillars that had collapsed littered the floor with rubble and huge chunks of masonry.

It was also too open, and Muse instantly didn’t like it. Despite her misgivings though, she slipped into the foyer and scanned it warily. There was nothing, except for the echoing of every sound no matter how hard she tried to keep quiet.

There were no signs of Locust though and Muse gestured “all clear” to Clay. The blonde Gear ushered Anya, the Colonel, and the Chairman into the hotel lobby, and they were smart enough to remain silent and let the soldiers handle the situation. Cole and the pilot stayed with them while Clay and Muse took point and did a sweep of the foyer; but most of the doors going off the lobby were blocked with wreckage and debris, and parts of the grand winding staircase was smashed to pieces, leaving gaps too big to cross and making it impossible to climb.

“And how are we meant to get to the roof now?” Prescott demanded loudly when he was told. Muse glared at him as his voice echoed around the lobby’s vaulted ceiling, its volume doubling, tripling as it bounced off the walls.

“We just need to find another route, Chairman.” Anya whispered.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, then a roaring scream blasted through the brittle silence and all the humans froze in dread. Each and every one of them knew that sound, and each and every one of them feared what it meant.

A Berserker.

“That’s not good, baby…” Cole murmured lowly, barely audible. Clay nodded in agreement, and then whispered;

“Everyone take cover. If we don’t make a sound maybe it’ll pass us.” No-one dared to argue, and in terrified silence they hid behind the cylindrical lumps of fallen rock. Just as they stilled in their hiding places, Muse felt the floor beneath her feet vibrating.

Daring to steal a glance around the upright stump of a pillar’s remains, Muse watched as the Berserker came into view; massive, towering almost ten feet in height, a hellknight of the deepest pits; the terrible vision stalked into the Crysler’s lobby through the double doors that opened into the sprawling dining room, brushing aside the timber beams that had blocked the entrance as though they were matchsticks. Pausing, it cocked its head as it sniffed carefully, and a dissatisfied growl rumbled in its chest.

Muse glanced over at the other humans hiding behind the various broken masonry and piles of rubble, and watched Anya shiver in terror. Chairman Prescott was pale and drawn, but the Colonel, Hoffman, had the same hard expression as Clay and Cole. The look of a soldier, tinged with fear, but mostly determined; ready to fight at any moment. The pilot’s expression was somewhere in between, poor thing had seen combat, but being a pilot and a woman, she’d probably never been in the thick of a ground fight before…

Their lives are more important then my own…

Again Muse looked at the massive beast scenting the air. She knew that her sudden thoughts should have angered her; that she should risk herself for COG, galling. But hadn’t protecting others been the reason for every step she had taken since she was twelve-years-old?

My life is expendable, theirs are not.

The protective instincts developed and honed over a lifetime could not be quelled, and Muse glanced around the derelict foyer as the strategy came together in her mind. Infront of her, she had a clear shot to the front entrance, and behind, kitchen supplies had spilled out of a doorway before beams and chunks of stone had collapsed and blocked it off.

Pots, pans, metal utensils. Muse smiled grimly and silently picked up a saucepan and large serving spoon…

The Berserker could smell fresh meat. The scents were confused and muddled, but that didn’t stop her from questing the air for a clue as to where she could find the source of the sumptuous aroma. She loped further into the huge vaulted chamber, head titled and snuffling excitedly. Her Master would be pleased if she brought him fresh human flesh.

Suddenly, a loud crashing bang arose from the other side of chamber, accompanied by yelling.

“Over here, ugly!”

The Berserker shrieked in triumphant and immediately charged towards the sound.

Muse continued to bang the spoon on the base of the pan for a split second to be sure the Berserker wouldn’t be distracted, then burst out of the Crysler’s front doors and ran for it. Behind her came the sound of buckling metal and shattering glass as the Berserker tore through the front entrance like it was tissue paper, and Muse spun around momentarily to get its attention again before fleeing. If she could keep the Locust monstrosity occupied, then Clay and Cole would get the other four to the roof for the pickup.

Muse glanced behind her again as the Berserker roared in frustrated fury and dodged out of the way just as it came within striking range. She darted away again in another direction, the huge Locust hot on her heels.

* * *

Anya was alive.

It was all Marcus could do to cling to that single hope; he had to believe it or fall apart. When he, Dom, and Baird had reached the crash site of KR Three-Six, it was to find the wreck swarming with Wretches, but no bodies. There had also been tracks leading away from the crash site, and evidence that Gears had moved some of the rubble - presumably to help those inside get out of the crashed chopper. Clearly Anya, Prescott, and Hoffman had gotten help and were now heading to a pickup point. The most obvious place for that was the highest building in the block, and so once the pilot had broadcasted the communiqué for the survivors of KR Three-Six to head for the Crysler Hotel, KR Two-Seven had headed that way as well.

“That’s odd…” Marcus looked at the Latino beside him at the idle comment. Dom had been staring listlessly out of the chopper for the whole ride, probably still grieving for Maria, and he hadn’t said a word for a while now. Deciding to talk all of a sudden had gotten Marcus’ attention.

“What is?”

“There’s a Berserker down there.”

Marcus frowned; that was a bit odd, “Without any Drones?”

“Yeah, looks like someone annoyed it though…” he faded off and frowned, “No way,” he muttered, “Is that a Stranded?” That got Marcus’ full attention and the Gear stood up to peer over his friend’s shoulder to see what he was seeing.

He had no problems spotting the Berserker - the huge creature was hard to miss - but it was the smaller figure flitting around the roaring behemoth that was the reason for Dom’s surprise. It wasn’t bulky enough to be a Gear even without armour, which meant it had to be a Stranded.

“A Stranded taking on a Berserker?” the Sergeant growled in disbelief. Across from Dom, Baird rolled his eyes.

“That must be one stupid Stranded, either that or he has a death wish.”

“Baird, pass me your sniper.” The blonde looked at Dom with a confused frown, brow furrowed.

“What for?”

“I just want to see.” If anything, Baird looked more confused.

“Why? It’s just some crazy Stranded.” Dom gave him a severe look and with a sigh, Baird handed over the scoped rifle. “Fine, whatever.”

The Latino Gear put the scope to his eye and fixed upon the small figure darting around the Berserker. He recognised who it was just as she ducked to avoid the Berserker’s sweeping arm; the pulverising blow missing her by mere inches. He dropped the scope from his eye and abruptly stood, staring down in dread.

“It’s Muse…”

“What!?” Baird choked on his own surprise, but Dom wasn’t going to waste time repeating himself and snatched the Hammer of Dawn from its clamp on the wall, banging a fist on the metal between the Gears and the pilot.

“We need to go down!” he bellowed. The pilot’s surprised voice crackled through the Tac Com in his ear.

“We haven’t got time to land, Corporal!”

“I don’t need you to land, just take us lower!”

“Sergeant Fenix…?” the pilot questioned uncertainly. Marcus paused for a split second to decide; their orders made it clear that retrieving the Chairman and Colonel Hoffman were the priority, on top of that, Anya was most likely with them, but it was just too much of a coincidence that Muse would be so close to where the Raven had crashed without having a hand in getting the survivors out…

“Take us down,” he finally said, “We need to exterminate that Berserker.”

The pilot hesitated for a second, then; “Yes sir.”

“How fast can you nail that thing?” The Gear grunted,

“Just need a couple of clear shots.” Dom replied as the King Raven began to descend.

Meanwhile Muse was tiring. The Berserker seemed to have an unending supply of energy, but she was quickly wearying. She avoided another pummelling blow, and her ears rang with the Locust’s annoyed scream. It was as the ringing cleared however, that Muse heard the voice. At first she thought it was just her imagination, or an audible hallucination brought on by the assault on her eardrums, but then she heard it again, coming from the radio tucked into her hip-pouch.

Muse!

“Dom!?”

Look out!

Muse ducked again, barely avoiding another swipe at her head.

Find cover so I can use the Hammer!

The Hammer of Dawn, probably the only weapon that could take down a Berserker in two shots, and involving a smaller version of the orbital lasers. If she was in the blast radius when it came down…

Ah crap. She thought.

Dodging another of the Berserker’s lunges, Muse broke into a sprint to get as far away from it as possible. There was a wrecked car nearby and with no other options; Muse dived behind it just as Dom pulled the Hammer’s trigger. The golden particle beam blasted from the sky and stopped the Berserker in mid-charge. The Locust screamed, and behind the burnt-out car Muse covered her ears, gritting her teeth against the noise.

When the screaming finally stopped and the dead Berserker hit the cracked paving on the road with a shuddering thud, Muse slowly stood and came out from behind the car. The Berserker lay face down, its skin blackened and acrid smoke drifting up from it. The reek of burnt flesh made Muse recoil. Then she looked quickly up at the chopper, shielding her eyes with a hand while fumbling the radio out of her hip-pack with the other.

Immediately Dom’s voice became clearer.

''Muse? Are you okay?'' Muse gave the helicopter a thumbs-up signal; she knew the radio was only a receiver, and Dom wouldn’t hear her over the rapid chop-chop-chop of the ‘copter even if she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Were you with Anya? Marcus’ voice; Muse couldn’t remember hearing him sound so urgent. She gestured another thumbs-up and then pointed towards the Crysler Hotel.

We have orders to retrieve the Chairman, but then we’ll come back for you, okay? It made sense really. Personal feelings aside, the leader of the COG was far more important than one Stranded. Muse waved a hand to show she’d understood, and watched the King Raven fly back towards the Crysler before looking around.

Across the street was a block of apartments sided by an alley with a set of fire escape steps and ladder. She could use those to get onto the roof and wait for her pickup there.

If they come back for you… Muse quashed the thought quickly, but was unable to convince herself that the spiteful little voice had been wrong… Pushing that whole train of thought off the rails, Muse walked across the street and into the alley, using an overturned dumpster to get to the fire escape ladder.

She first knew something was wrong when she reached the top of the ladder and had to lean against the railings as she got her breath back. After the years spent doing manual labour as well as the running from and fighting against the Locust, Muse’s stamina was very good. Yet a short climb up a decent ladder had apparently taken it out of her. Her hand strayed to the bandage on her shoulder, there was only one explanation for what was happening to her; the infection festering in the bite had to be getting worse, and her body was finally packing up and giving in… Muse forced herself up again, and made her way up the zig-zagging stairs to the roof.

The dizziness and nausea hit as she reached the top. Muse swayed, and the world seemed to tilt while the colours ran together. The strength went out of her and she sank to the dusty rooftop, sagging against the knee-high lip that ran around the edge while her eyes closed and she panted. The sunlight seemed to have become painfully hot and bright since she’d entered the alleyway and seared through her lids, turning everything red. The sweat was pouring off her face, and when she reached up to wipe her forehead her skin felt hot to the touch, which probably meant she was feverish too. She felt tired and drained, and wondered distantly how she’d managed to fight off the infection for so long… not that it mattered any more…

Strong fingers suddenly curled around her throat and Muse’s eyes flew open as she was roughly flung across the roof. The attack was unexpected by itself, but coupled with the impact of her head and back slamming into the stone when she landed, Muse was too dazed and winded to do anything but stare blankly up at the silhouetted figure as the shadow fell across her face. Her limp torso was hauled up by her vest, and she looked up into the face of a nightmare.

The Locust was taller then a Drone but not as heavily built, and the reek that came from it was the sort that made eyes sting and water and throats burn. It was dressed in some kind of medley of armour and robes, and wore a strange, almost crown-like helmet. An unfamiliar pistol hung from its belt. In the hand not clutching the black fabric of her vest, the creature held her Longshot and seemed to be debating whether or not to beat her skull in with it before apparently reaching a decision and smashing the rifle on the wall by Muse’s head.

Muse flinched slightly as the gun broke, but otherwise remained emotionless as she stared impassively up at the monstrosity above her. With the onset of lethargy and the beginnings of the fever’s delirium taking hold, Muse had become detached from reality and could no longer find it in herself to actually care about anything. Seemingly intrigued by the complete absence of fear, the Locust leaned down to hiss in her face;

“You faccce your death, ‘umaaan, but I sssmell no fear in you…”

The voice was rasping, oily, slick, and seemed to worm its way through Muse’s ears and into her brain, so much so that she almost wanted to claw at her own head to get it out. She didn’t reply though, and apparently curious, the monstrous being bent its face closer to hers. Her only reaction was to wrinkle her nose as its stinking breath washed over her face.

“I sssmell the sssicknesss in you…” it hissed softly, “You are dying, ‘umaaan… Your ssstrength isss waning…” When Muse still didn’t respond, the Locust cocked its head, as though studying her intently, and then it grinned; lips pulling up in a way that seemed wrong and unnatural, bearing long yellow fangs. “Yesss, you aaare the one… Ssstray Dog…”

A flicker of surprise crossed Muse’s expression as she blearily blinked up at the Locust, and she finally frowned as confusion strong enough to break through the apathy made itself known.

“How…?” she croaked hoarsely, unable to say more. Her mind was reeling - albeit slower than in normal circumstances - as she tried to work our how a Locust knew her name.

“They ssspeak of you,” it said, a note of triumph in its voice, “The ssstraaay dog that will bring the God Dessstroyersss to our esssteemed Queen…”

By the look of incomprehension on her expression, it was more then obvious that Muse had no idea what the Locust was talking about. But then it said one word, just one word, and the gauzy veil of exhaustion and delirium that had hung between Muse and her ability to hold on to coherent thought, was abruptly ripped away…

“Maaariaaa…” the creature hissed with obvious pleasure, “That wasss the name you ssscreamed… deep in the daaarknesss… I sssaw how you fought to reach the one by that name… how desssperaaate you were to get to her… but you failed, ssstraaay dog, you were beaten and ssshe wasss taken…”

It paused as though to savour what it would say next; unaware of the rage growing in its captive, unaware that that rage would give her strength enough to take revenge.

“Ssshe ssscreamed when we procccesssed her… it wasss like musssic…”

“You… son of a bitch…” Muse whispered, her voice stronger but still strained.

The Locust gurgled with amusement, and stepping back, stood and hauled Muse up by the front of her vest, to its own eyelevel. Despite dangling helplessly almost five feet off the stone of the rooftop, Muse lost none of her defiance, and bared her teeth.

“I’ll make you scream,” she promised, though her voice was scratchy and weak, “Just like you made her scream.”

“There it isss,” the Locust hissed in satisfaction, “There isss the Dog they ssspeak of…” It chuckled horribly, the sound guttural and grating, “Ssscreaming did not help her, nor her mate…” It grinned again as Muse failed to mask her horror, “I heard hisss dissstresss when he ssshot her…”

It was the last straw, and Muse had finally had enough. With a roar of rage she brought up her arm, and plunged the sharp end of her Longshot’s broken barrel into the Locust's temple.

It paused as though to savour what it would say next; unaware of the rage growing in its captive, unaware that that rage would give her strength enough to take revenge.

Unaware of her groping fingers searching for a sharp piece of her broken rifle.

“Ssshe ssscreamed when we procccesssed her… it wasss like musssic…”

“''You… son of a bitch…” Muse whispered, her voice stronger but still strained. ''

Her fingers closed around what had once been half of the Longshot’s barrel.

The Locust gurgled with amusement, and stepping back, stood and hauled Muse up by the front of her vest, to its own eyelevel.

A terrible grating screech blasted from the Locust’s open maw as the metal stake went in, and Muse was nearly deafened. Then she hit the floor as the Locust dropped her, and could only watch as it scrabbled at its face with both hands until it managed to tear the metal shard from its skull.

The piece of broken rifle fell to the stone with a clang and Muse dived for it even as the Locust shrieked in fury and lunged for her. Muse grabbed the bloody bit of metal and flipped over onto her back, thrusting the stake upward…

Sinking it right into the Locust's eye; penetrating the soft tissue and entering the brain…

Again it screamed - though this time there was a definite note of fear and desperation in the sound - and flailed wildly, managing the claw the left half of Muse’s face; rending the flesh to ribbons and causing blood to pour from the horrific wounds. But Muse held on with gritted teeth, and twisted the metal slowly and deliberately, ignoring the fresh wave of screams.

“Screaming won’t help you,” she snarled, “You hear me you ugly son of a bitch? You’re dead.” She pushed the piece of metal in deeper. “This is for Maria,” she hissed as the Locust screeched and thrashed, “For her son… for her daughter… This is for Dom… and Marcus… for their families, their friends… This is for my Dogs…” she pushed harder, feeling the metal slide in even deeper, “And all those in my camp that were butchered… This is for every person that I’ve ever loved that your kind took away from me…”

“You caaan’t kill usss all!” The Locust shrieked, and Muse withdrew the Longshot barrel with a jerk.

“I can try,” she whispered, “One Locust at a time.”

She impaled the piece of metal once more into the Locust's skull, until it burst out of the back of its head, covered in gore, and the Locust slumped, dead.

Muse shoved the Locust corpse away with a grunt and slowly stood. She looked around, half blinded by blood, and watched the gleaming black shape of the King Raven chopper coming towards her. Dom was coming.

Muse collapsed.

Proem
The nightmares are never far away.

The images are branded onto the inside of my eyelids… I glimpse them from the corner of my eyes - disappearing like ghosts before I can face them… They lurk just on the other side of every breath… every heartbeat… Waiting for me to lower my guard for just an instant…

And it’s always the same…

I stand alone on the steps of a great white building, and watch my world burn. The sky is red with a bloody sunset. The buildings are black, silhouetted by fire. The Hammer of Dawn streaks down in a pillar of death and destruction…

The world shakes… buildings fall… fire blossoms like bright flowers against the red sky… I can see the explosions…and yet the world is silent…

And I am alone… always alone… with nothing but the horrors that come of war surrounding me, in the burnt out shell of my broken world…

Destroyed cities… countless dead… the sorrow… the silence… the forgotten tears…

The ghosts…

So much for the glory of battle… there is no glory here… only blood… and tears… and the sounds of grieving…

Strange… even when all the world is silent… I can still hear the sounds of grief and pain…

Is this really my reality? Is this really what my world has become? A world of unending war… of fighting… of pain…

…so much pain…

Is this really all there is anymore? Is this really all there is? We fight… each other… the Locust… For resources… for freedom… for survival… We fight, and kill, and die…

Is there nothing else but death?

I see the faces of the fallen… the faces of those that died around me while I survive… The accusation in their unseeing eyes bore into me… seeing through my flesh… peeling the skin from my bones… boring into my soul…

These are the faces of whom I failed to protect… of those that have died because of me…

I failed… I have always failed… and I will always be alone… Cold terror swamps my being in its frigid, merciless grip…

Always alone… because every thing I touch dies…

I am on my knees and the darkness is closing in… all I can hear is screaming… raw… afraid… close… There are monsters in the dark… just out of sight… wild… deadly… full of rage…

That screaming…

Those monsters…

…it’s me…

Scarred
Dominic Santiago was unable to wait for the King Raven to even land before jumping down onto the apartments’ rooftops. From the moment he’d seen Muse collapse, the Latino Gear couldn’t have reached her fast enough, and while the chopper was still slowly descending, he sprung down; displaying impressive agility for his size.

He landed in a crouch, and ignoring the biting dust and sand thrown up by the chopper’s rotors, was beside Muse in an instant. Carmine had described how she had been pushing herself to her limits for the past several days; not sleeping, hardly eating, not to mention that festering bite on her shoulder… But even his detailed report could not have prepared Dom for the sight before him.

She’d hacked off her hair; it was the first thing he noticed. The dark strands were short now, but rough and uneven, only serving to accentuate how gaunt she had become. Hollow cheeks and sunken eyes; she looked starved and ill, already half dead. The left side of her face was rent with cruel slashes, and blood poured from the wounds.

“Muse…” Dom dropped to one knee and went to gather the girl’s limp body into his arms.

As soon as he touched her however, every muscle in her body went rigid, her back arched, and Muse howled as the agony slammed into her like a brick wall until there was no breath left in her lungs. Dom almost expected her to begin thrashing, but she’d exhausted her body so profoundly that she only violently shook, uttering tiny whimpers of pain like a wounded animal. To Dom, the sounds were worse than screaming.

“Marcus!” he bellowed, not knowing what else to do other then turn to his friend, “MARCUS!” The older man was beside the distressed Latino in a moment; helping him restrain the shuddering woman while simultaneously propping her up as he tore off the makeshift bandage around her shoulder.

It took a moment for even the seasoned veteran to get past the nauseating smell and appearance of the bite wound before he could examine it. The surrounding flesh was swollen and inflamed while yellow pus oozed from the punctures.

“Septicaemia?” Dom whispered. He glanced at Marcus who was scowling darkly at the injury, worry and annoyance warring across his features; visible only to those who knew him best. He shook his head minutely.

“Worse,” he growled, “Menoticaemia…”

Dom paled. Menoticaemia was a vicious infection caused by the bacteria in a Wretch’s saliva. Like some warped strain of septicaemia that had mutated with rabies it caused symptoms of fever, lethargy, nausea, and dizziness, and if not treated with Antitoxin within twenty-eight days of the actual bite, ended with increasingly serious seizures until the body went into cardiac arrest.

Antitoxin was not something Gears carried around in their first-aid kits. All they could do was dope her up with painkillers and a sedative until they got back to the COG’s new base of operations.

Dom watched as Marcus ripped open the Velcro strips of his first-aid kit and selected one of the prepared hypodermics. The Stranded may have only had the old-fashioned needle-and-plunger hypos, but this one looked more like a ballpoint pen. It was a simple matter of placing the nib in the crook of Muse’s elbow and depressing the clicker at the top, to inject the drug.

Muse’s trembling eased and finally stopped. She seemed to sag into Dom’s arms.

“Oh Muse…”

Though he only murmured her name in a softly exhaled sigh, something about his tone succeeded in traversing through the layers of pain and drug-induced fog to reach her.

''The world was drenched in blood and full of noise and pain. She couldn’t see, she could hardly breathe. All she could hear was incomprehensible noise, and feel the agony, which was already unbearable, as it seemed to reach new heights of torture.''

Muse screamed.

''It was like being submerged in a fiery lake, falling back into unimaginable pain, screaming, screaming. She just wanted it to stop, just wanted it all to end, to slip away into the forgiving dark and silence of death’s embrace…''

''But someone was calling her. Through the clamour that assaulted her, she heard the voice calling her back from the brink of oblivion and keeping her anchored in that world of blood and torture.''

“Muse…”

''The voice sounded desperate, pleading, and though the word itself was but a meaningless syllable to a mind so consumed with incessant hurting, Muse could not ignore the voice that spoke it. She knew that voice, loved that voice, and finally she was able to force through the red mist of pain to put a name and face to it.''

Dom…

''Muse wrenched herself away from the precipice and its whispered promises of blissful dark and an end to her suffering, and willingly plunged back into overwhelming agony. Even when her mind could hardly focus on coherent thought, Muse knew that she would suffer any torment to get back to the only family she had left.''

How far will you go for them? The enticing darkness of the abyss seemed to hiss at her. Are they truly worth enduring this anguish?

They are worth that and more…

“Dom…” Muse could only mumble the name in a burbled slur, but Dom obviously heard her.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” his voice sounded hoarse with relief, “It’s alright, the painkillers should be working.” Even as he said it Muse realised that her mind had become a little clearer - though still muzzy with the exhaustion of her bruised and battered body - and she slowly became more aware of her surroundings.

She was propped up between the two men; Dom holding her up while Marcus was on one knee on her other side, for some unfathomable reason pulling off the black do-rag he was always wearing. He looked rather odd without it, Muse thought distantly. She watched as he soaked the bandana with water from his canteen, but only when he went to clean the side of her face that had been shredded by the stinking Locust, did she realise what he was up to.

“Aw, Marcus…” she muttered in protest, “You love that thing…” He paused and looked at her, then grunted and told Dom to hold her still while he dabbed at the streaming blood. It stung, but Muse braced herself against the instinct to flinch. She heard Marcus mutter something about ‘damn Kantus’.

When the bleeding had finally been staunched and the cuts had been thoroughly cleaned of any dirt from the Locust’s claws, Marcus washed out the do-rag, wrung it so that it was only damp, and then tied it across Muse’s torn face. Dom scooped her up to carry her to the waiting chopper, and she sagged against the cool metal of his chestplate, eyes closing.

“What happened?” She could only remember bits and pieces since reaching the apartment rooftop.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dom said quietly, “It’s over, you’re fine.” He paused, then added, “Try not to talk, you’ll exhaust yourself.”

Muse nodded vaguely, then realised that while she had been so intent on focusing her wandering mind on Dom, he’d actually boarded the King Raven and it had taken off. Now she registered the gentle swaying of a chopper in flight and slowly her brain filtered in other information.

Dom held her firmly against his chest and was looking down at her with a complicated expression that seemed to be equal parts concern, relief, and fear. Muse tried to smile, but it hurt the entire shredded side of her face and so she stopped, turning her attention to the rest of the chopper’s passengers to take her mind off the ache that the painkillers couldn’t completely erase.

Baird was sitting beside Dom, leaning on his own Longshot. He kept glancing over at them the looking away quickly, his expression halfway between thinking Muse was insane, and sickened by her mutilated face. Clay was beside him, also throwing concerned looks in her direction while compulsively fiddling with his Lancer. Hoffman had his back to everyone in the King Raven as he stood and looked out at the scenery rolling beneath the ‘copter.

Prescott was in the opposite corner, as far away from Dom and Muse as possible and not looking at anyone. Cole was beside him looking strained and as if he just wanted to get off the helicopter as soon as humanly possible. Between him and Marcus sat Anya. She seemed transfixed by Muse’s torn and bloody face and shoulder, and was unable to look away. She pressed close to Marcus and just stared with horrified fascination.

Marcus however, seemed to be thinking too hard about something to even notice the pretty blonde that was practically clinging to him. His eyes were distant and released from the confines of his do-rag, his dark hair was scruffy and in desperate need of a cut. The light coming in through the open side of the chopper gleamed over the scars on his face; wounds that must have sliced open his cheek. Muse idly wondered what she’d look like when her own face healed. Would she ever see out of her left eye again?

No one was talking.

As exhaustion gradually crept over her again, Muse wondered if there’d been a mild sedative in the painkillers. It made sense really; a good sleep was probably what she needed most, and she allowed her eyes to close. Lulled by the rocking chopper and the rise and fall of Dom’s steady breathing, Muse eventually drifted into a deep slumber.

For the first time in weeks, she was untroubled by dreams.

* * *

Dom kept a firm grip on the girl the entire flight. It seemed that every time he let her out of his sight, she got neck deep into trouble and ended up either in mortal peril or beaten to a pulp. He vowed that he wouldn’t let it happen again. Not after everything she’d already been through. Not after he had so recently lost Maria…

Carmine had told them how he’d found Muse in a sensory deprivation chamber in the Locust tunnels. He’d told them how her only thoughts had been to rescue Maria Santiago and how single-mindedly she’d tracked the woman until it was impossible to follow. Dom felt an ache in his chest at the thought. Maria’s death was still a raw place inside him; to know that Muse had fought so hard to save his wife, caused a bittersweet stir in the pit of his gut.

Dom wondered how he’d tell her that he’d had to shoot Maria himself…

“What will she need?” Dom looked up as Hoffman suddenly spoke. All eyes turned to the Colonel in the silent chopper. He however, had all his attention focused on Dom.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hoffman looked a little impatient. “The girl, what will she need?” He repeated.

“Antitoxin.” Marcus suddenly growled, and the Colonel switched his gaze to the grizzled Sergeant. “She has advanced stage menoticaemia, she’ll need antitoxin as soon as possible.” Hoffman nodded.

“She’ll get it.” He turned away again, looking at the landscape racing by.

Dom meanwhile felt a mixture of confusion and immense relief. Only now that he had a solution did he even acknowledge the other worry that had been gnawing at him. With Muse being a Stranded and not a recognised, registered citizen of the COG, she wouldn’t be the first priority for treatment. With the shortage of everything - including medication - being so serious, the COG were more interested in looking after their own; Gears first, then its civilians. Stranded were considered by most to be cowards and deserters and as a result, were bumped down to the lowest priority.

Muse had obviously impressed Hoffman enough for him to pull some strings.

Dom let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Muse was going to be alright.

Old Bones
Muse slowly came to as the sedative wore off. She managed to open her eyes, and blinked languidly to clear the blurriness. For a moment she experienced the disconcerting lurch of panic and disorientation of finding herself half blind and not knowing where she was, but then relaxed as her memory bled through the darkness of drugged sleep and she remembered what had happened.

The left side of her face had been bandaged with clean white gauze, and her eye was covered by a soft pad. She remembered the Locust that had given her the injuries, that had broken her gun and hissed horrible revelations to her.

She remembered sticking the barrel of her Longshot into its eye, impaling its brain…

And she remembered Dom. Dom, who hadn’t left her behind.

With great effort, Muse rolled her head to one side, to see the Latino sitting in the chair beside her bed, evidently waiting for her to wake up. He grinned in relief and leaned forward in his seat as soon as her eyes flickered.

“Hey, kid…”

“Hi…” her voice was weak and whispery and took an astonishing amount of energy to use at all. “You came back for me.” She grinned at him drowsily. Dom chuckled.

“Of course I came for you… I promised, didn’t I?” his tone took on a hint of teasing, “Besides, every time I leave you anywhere, you always get into trouble.” His grin abruptly faded and he fell silent, as though that had reminded him of something and he wondered if he should say what was on his mind. Then, quietly; “I heard about your camp…”

Muse looked at him sharply as surprise and pain flickered briefly across her features, erasing any lingering effects of the sedative.

“How did you…?” Dom looked stricken as he realised that Muse didn’t actually know where they were.

“Muse… we’re in Vidandear… the new COG base… the salvaging teams found the remains…”

“We’re…?” Muse let her eyes close and sighed defeatedly. “Yeah… why am I not surprised…” she glanced at him to ask; “Did you see…?”

“No,” Dom shook his head, “But I heard enough to feel lucky I didn’t… I’m so sorry Muse…”

The girl didn’t look at him, instead suddenly finding her stained combats endlessly interesting. Dom knew her well enough to see that she was struggling to master her emotions, and when she shrugged off his condolences with would-be nonchalance, he knew her indifference was feigned. Unable to stop himself, Dom reached over and closed his fingers around her forearm. She looked up at him in something akin to surprise.

“Don’t do that.” He said, “Don’t shut me out… tell me what happened…”

He watched as Muse looked away again, and thought for a moment that she wasn’t going to tell him anything, then she released a deep breath.

“The Locust…” she murmured, “They used a Stray Dog distress call as a decoy to lure most of us away from camp…” she paused and swallowed thickly, suddenly fighting off the burning prickle at the back of her eyes that heralded on-coming tears. “They attacked the camp…and…and massacred everyone inside…”

The images that had been burned into her memory rose up again in her mind’s eye; the blood, the defiled corpses, her dead friends… Muse squeezed her eyes shut as a hot, solitary tear managed to escape and slid down her cheek. Once again Dominic Santiago had caused cracks to spread through her carefully erected mask, and she both loved and hated him for it.

The mattress sagged a little as Dom moved to sit beside the girl. He put his arms around her, and Muse clung to him, just as she had when she’d been a little girl and he’d been nineteen.

In some ways, Dom realised, Muse still was that little twelve-year-old girl he’d met almost fifteen years ago. Where he had matured and grown and become a man, she was essentially still the same. Mentally and emotionally she hadn’t developed into a grown woman. Of course she was intelligent, and she knew how to fight and kill and think like a soldier, how to organise and strategise, and everything else that a child or teenager would learn as necessity to survive in a warzone. But it was in a child’s way that she knew it.

What about the things she should know as an adult? Things she would have learned as she grew up; at school, from chats with giggly friends, from her parents. She knew friendship and family, but what about adult relationships? Had she learnt that amidst fighting to keep herself and the Stranded with her alive?

The thoughts worried him as he realised how emotionally vulnerable Muse really was, and unconsciously Dom tightened his grip on her, as though he could shield her from the world.

Muse meanwhile was immersed in her own thoughts. Her camp was gone, almost everyone she’d ever known was dead, all she had left that even remotely resembled a family were Clay and Delta Squad, and now she found herself with the COG whether she liked it or not. She realised with chagrin that no matter how much she hated the Coalition, she was stuck with them.

More importantly, it was the COG that would provide for her needs from now on; food, medication, protection… The idea of relying on an organisation she hated for anything, was not a welcome one, but even Muse understood that it was unavoidable. She could not survive on her own.

And she didn’t intend to be a leech…

“You managed to save the tags.”

Dom’s voice brought her from her musings and she looked up at him, he was still holding her. It took her a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, from the memorial… it didn’t seem right to leave them behind… How did you know?” Dom looked a little sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck.

“While you were unconscious… they confiscated your kit…” Muse abruptly scowled and pulled away from him.

“They did what?”

“I was too worried about you.” Dom said helplessly, “I didn’t realise until Marcus brought it back…” the Latino paused as he recalled the thunderous expression on his friend’s face - he hadn’t been happy about the invasion of privacy either - then leaned down to pick something up off the floor beside his chair. He handed Muse her hip-packs, the Snub in its holster, and her cap and goggles.

Of the two larger pouches that strapped to her hips and the four smaller ones that would have gone around her back, all but one of the small packs were empty. The spare gun parts and ammunition had gone, probably taken by the COG for their own dwindling supplies. Her old radio had finally given up the ghost; smashed to pieces by the Locust on the rooftop. What rations and medical supplies she’d had, had been used up a couple of days prior, and the tags and ledger she’d saved from her camp had been taken. Only the long-handled torch in its belt-loop and the tools she’d scavenged to keep her guns in working order, remained.

“So what happened to the tags and book?” Of all the missing items, they were the only things that were irreplaceable.

“They’ll be given to surviving relatives or put in a memorial of their own.” Dom told her, “They’ll be remembered…”

Muse nodded, content with that at least, even if she was still irritated over the COG’s apparent disregard for her privacy. She stewed over it for a while, but found that even her annoyance couldn’t change the decision she’d made. Absently she drew a thick roll of leather from her hip-packs and undid the tether. The leather unrolled to reveal a selection of small tools, including the screwdriver she’d used to pry open the slat of the sensory deprivation chamber she’d been kept in.

Dom watched as she ran her fingers over the various pieces of kit. It seemed to be an absent-minded activity to occupy her hands while her mind was elsewhere. He recognised some of the tools for weapons’ maintenance; Baird had a similar kit that he used to do small repairs on Delta’s Squad’s guns and cannibalise any parts he could salvage to keep them working.

It reminded him of something else he had to tell her, and he inwardly recoiled at the prospect, but he forced himself to do it anyway.

“I couldn’t save the rifle.” He murmured apologetically. Muse shook her head and smiled reassuringly.

“The Longshot was a goner as soon as that Locust got hold of it…” she faded off as she remembered what else the Locust had done, what it had told her.

“It… the ‘Kantus’? It told me…about Maria… what happened to her…”

She didn’t need to tell Dom how sorry she was, he could see it in her eyes. The single blue-green iris reflected his misery with a depth that he hadn’t expected. But then, hadn’t she suffered almost as much as he had trying to find his wife? Maybe she understood his pain better then most.

“Carmine told us how hard you fought for her…” he smiled, pained, “Thanks…”

A miserable silence hung between them for a long moment; Muse worming her cold fingers around Dom’s warm ones and squeezing slightly. She didn’t need words to tell him she grieved with him, and Dom felt the burden lift a little, knowing it was shared.

“So, what’s the deal with…” Muse gestured her face in an attempt to change the subject and lift the depressive mood that had descended. “’Cept I’ll be ugly as sin from now on.” Dom smiled a little at that, and keenly grasped the new topic.

“The Doc said the lacerations were pretty serious, but superficial, so it’ll heal, and he’s confident your eye wasn’t damaged too badly either.”

“Oh that’s good, I least I’ll be able to see.” A pause. “How’re…the others? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” Dom nodded, “Marcus won’t admit it, but even he was worried for a second back there.”

“I bet he’s glad Anya’s okay.” Dom’s smile widened to a grin.

“So you noticed that, did’ja?” Muse mirrored the grin, thankful that even now they were both able to still smile.

“I noticed Anya was pretty interested in him. All she needs to do is crack his stoic exterior to find the soft and squishy Marcus we all know is in there.” Dom actually laughed at that and warned her not to repeat that to Marcus himself if she valued her life. “And Clay?” Muse asked after the laughter had subsided. “I mean, with his squad all dead… what’ll happen to him?”

For a second Dom looked uncomfortable, as if the question brought up issues he wasn’t up to dealing with.

“I’m not sure,” he said at last, “He’ll probably be assigned to a new squad.”

A silence fell between them, for some reason inexplicably awkward. Muse found herself suddenly desperate to fill it and the question she’d been harbouring tumbled from her lips before she could stop herself.

“Why d’you do it? Why d’you stay with a government that treats you like crap?”

Dom looked at her with astonishment in his eyes. Muse thought it was because of the bluntness of her question, little did she know that it was more her open tone. Whereas before Muse would have stuck stubbornly and unyieldingly to her own sense of morality and integrity, now she sounded as though she were willing to see things from another perspective.

“Because if we don’t stand together, we’re dead.” He said quietly, “The Locust’ll win.”

“…They’re already winning.” Muse muttered, sounding hopelessly dismal, “It’s only a matter of time before we lose really…”

“That’s not the Muse I know talking.” Dom rebuked gently, “My Muse wouldn’t admit defeat even if it was staring her in the face. My Muse wouldn’t quit fighting, not for anything.” Muse looked at him, a wry smile twisting her mouth.

“Your Muse?” she teased, “Very presumptuous of you, mister Dominic Santiago.” Even though it was rather odd to hear her use his full name, the smile was what Dom had wanted and he returned it for a moment before levering himself up off the bed.

“You need to sleep. I’ll come and see you later.”

As if it were completely natural for him to do so, Dom leaned down, wrapping his brawny arms around Muse in a brief hug. She welcomed the contact and put her arms around his neck in return. Feeling the sudden urge to speak, she said to him;

“Am I really your Muse?” He squeezed her gently, careful not to hurt her.

“You better believe it, sweetheart.”

He let her go and stood up, smiling faintly as he turned to leave. Just as he reached the door of the makeshift hospital room though, Muse called his name.

“Dom?”

He turned back to see that Muse had folded her arms behind her head and wore an intent expression, as though she’d come to a decision after much thought.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve decided… I won’t leech off the COG without pulling my weight and contributing… so… sign me up.” Dom blinked, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. Did she mean what he thought she did?

“What?” Muse looked at him and one side of her mouth twitched in a lop-sided smile.

“I’m enlisting.”

Jaded
Baird silently fumed as he made his way to the infirmary. What had Dom been thinking? The question gnawed at him all the way to the makeshift med-centre. He appreciated that whatever was in the small dark duffle and thick manila envelope was something that Muse needed, but why had Dom asked him to get them to her? What did he look like, some damn delivery boy? Muse was Santiago’s brat, not his.

The blonde was still seething even when he reached the infirmary, heedless of those he encountered swiftly getting out of his way; a Gear in a foul temper was not to be provoked or trifled with. However as he got to the tiny room where Muse had spent the last couple of days recuperating, his anger was abruptly quenched as he glanced through the small square window set in the door.

Muse sat on the bed, facing away from both him and door, painfully easing on a vest several sizes too big for her. Baird recoiled and quickly stepped to one side and out of sight. The glimpse he’d gotten of her bare skin had showed him a myriad of gleaming white scars. Scars he would have expected to see on a veteran…

Of course he was no stranger to war wounds, even ones worse then the healing bite on Muse’s shoulder that was bound to become a permanent tribute to the Wretch that had gotten close enough to take a chunk out of her. But those he had seen belonged to grizzled old solders, not young women, and with Baird’s COG upbringing where women were the key to humanity’s future and therefore precious, it was almost uncanny to see one so bruised and battered.

Standing with his back to the wall beside Muse’s door, Baird suddenly found himself thinking on the other women he knew; COG, Stranded, civilians, Gears… Of all the predefined ideas he’d unconsciously formed about the opposite sex, Muse fit into none of them.

She wasn’t like the Stranded he’d encountered before; she didn’t hide from danger and she definitely didn’t run from a fight. She thought all the COG’s values were propaganda, and blamed the government for abandoning a good part of the populace, but she didn’t harbour the deep hatred towards the Gears that most Stranded did. She was ordered, disciplined, even scarred; a soldier to the bone, but not a Gear. She wasn’t like Anya or any of the other women that served in the COG, but she wasn’t a civilian either. She was an anomaly, and Baird wondered what she would have been like had the Locust never appeared.

The unexpected curiosity was suddenly overwhelming and Baird risked another glance through the door’s window. Muse was modestly covered once again, and she seemed to be gazing into the distance; her back still to Baird and the door. Taking a moment to compose himself, Baird hid his new-found thoughts and interest concerning her behind his usual sarcastic mask and knocked briefly before entering.

“Muse?”

She looked at him quickly, and he watched her hopeful expression fade to despondency that he wasn’t Dom. Her skin was flushed with a recent scrubbing, dark hair comically stuck up at odd ends in water-slicked spikes. The oversized vest hung from her frame not leaving much to the imagination, a fact she seemed acutely aware of as she crossed her arms defensively across her breasts. A clean pad and bandage still covered the left side of her face.

“What do you want?” she muttered, turning away again. Despite her apparent indifference, Baird noted that the freshly-washed pinkness of her skin had darkened with a blush. Even though it was wildly inappropriate at present, the idea that his presence could make Muse blush was an intriguing one.

“Dom asked me to bring you these.” He put the duffle and envelope on the bedsheets.

“He didn’t bring them himself?”

Her voice was so low and miserable that Baird almost didn’t catch what she’d said. He did though, and wondered how long it had been since Dom had come to see the stray he’d picked up to have upset her so much with his absence.

Before Baird could offer any kind of answer though, Muse let out a soft breath and turned to the duffle and envelope he’d put on her bed, attempting to surreptitiously arrange the oversized vest in a less revealing manner as she did so. She only succeeded in drawing more attention to herself.

Catching himself being far too interested in the woman, Baird quickly tore his gaze from her, to the contents of the duffle as she opened it. Inside was a beige vest and brown combats, and boots that actually had decent traction. The clothes were worn but clean, and in much better condition then the torn and stained apparel she’d had before. However the blonde’s interest was only really piqued when Muse ripped open the manila envelope and took out a pen and stack of paper that he recognised as COG enlistment forms.

“You’re joining the COG?”

His tone was part incredulous, part affronted, and part triumphantly smug; as though by enlisting with the COG, Muse was somehow admitting that he had been right about the government’s superiority all along. The idea that Baird thought that she was submitting to the COG’s ideals grated on her nerves and Muse inwardly scowled.

“Some of us think it’s wrong to leech off a community without pulling their weight to put something back in.” She said haughtily. Baird flushed with anger, knowing that she was referring to the Gears’ stay in her Stranded camp and his fondness for the hot water. He rose to the bait without a second thought.

“The COG isn’t like your militia rabble,” he retorted waspishly, “There’s rules and lines of command, you’re the one that has to obey orders.”

“Oh and I’m sure you’re so good at that.” Muse replied as she took the pen that had come in the package and began filling out the forms. Her tone was infuriatingly calm and indifferent now, but she had no idea that her jibe had hit a nerve.

Baird meanwhile, silently seethed. The well-aimed retort aside, a good part of his anger was because he recognised the quiet confidence in her voice; Muse was ready to pit her mind against his in this clash of wills, and she knew she had the wits to match him.

More disconcertingly, he knew she had the wits to match him too. As much as Baird hated to admit it, in this at least he’d found his equal, and she was a Stranded brat…

After that initial surge of anger however, Baird got control of himself, and though his temper simmered just under the surface, he knew that reacting out of annoyance wouldn’t get him anyway; he needed his intellect as unclouded by irritation as possible if he was going to win this second round of battling wits, and not leave himself open for Muse’s razor-sharp quips.

“And that moral high-horse you’re so fond of will definitely have to go.” He told her condescendingly, like he was explaining something obvious to someone particularly stupid.

“And why’s that?” Muse asked vaguely, as though he were a child that she was obliged to give at least some of her attention to.

“Because,” Baird replied in the same tone, though through gritted teeth, “If you’re going to join the COG, you’ll have to respect what we believe in, because you’re taking it on yourself as well.”

Muse looked at him, and smirked. The expression shouldn’t have been as disconcerting as it was.

“I said I was enlisting, not that I believe the COG’s tripe.”

Baird was stunned into silence. Muse’s blatant disregard for the moral values that he himself had been raised on was like a kick in the teeth. How could she be so against an organisation that she was joining?

She seemed able to read his expression; “I’m joining the COG because they’ll give me food and a roof over my head, and because I’ll do much damage to the Locust here then on my own. Not because I believe in it.”

Baird didn’t reply. Getting one up on this woman was suddenly the last thing on his mind compared to his sudden insight of her.

She didn’t believe in anything. She was too bitter and hurt and jaded by her entire life that she couldn’t put her faith or trust in anything at all, except for maybe Dom, and apparently he hadn’t come to see her for a while. Baird felt something clench in his gut as he wondered what could make her want to so thoroughly wall herself off from the world. True, he was cynical and sceptical and sarcastic about a lot of things himself, but he’d always known deep down that the COG was right.

Muse evidently didn’t have that luxury.

“You can’t carry on with this better-then-you attitude you have going, Muse.” He said quietly. Instead of having a tone of anger or condescension, Baird’s voice was only pitying and Muse looked at him sharply. He saw real anger flare in her eyes.

“You think you’re better then me!” She snapped, but nothing she said could rile Baird now, what he knew about her quenched all desires to fight her.

“I never thought I was better then you.”

Silence.

Before she could command him to leave, or even to come up with a retort, Baird left Muse and the little room, his mind turning over what he’d learnt. In some small corner of his mind, he wondered if this meant he’d won this round.

Muse watched him go feeling angry and confused; she didn’t want his pity, but she couldn’t help wonder what exactly it was that Baird had seen to cause such a sudden change in his demeanour. What was it that he found so pitiable? She brushed the thought off after a moment - it was probably just another of the blonde’s mind games. She went back to filling out the enlistment forms.

Under “Medical Conditions” she wrote that at age eleven she had been diagnosed with a condition that made her unable to conceive…

* * *

Finally, after a week of being incarcerated in the infirmary, Muse was deemed to have recovered enough to leave - though it would be another week at least before the bandages could come off permanently.

Since that first visit, Dom hadn’t come to see her even once.

At first, Muse had been hurt that her only friend had either been too busy, or hadn’t wanted to come and see how she was doing. Then, she had been briefly annoyed, but now she couldn’t help but worry that she’d said or done something that had driven him away.

Realising that she had no way of finding the Gear without actually asking someone, Muse decided to look in the most likely places herself before resorting to that.

She checked the main mess hall first, but even though there were plenty of Gears and COG civilians about, Dom was nowhere to be seen. At first, Muse thought to immediately continue her search, but after a week of infirmary rations, even the slop they were serving here seemed tempting. Collecting a meal tray that would have been at home in a prison cafeteria, Muse joined the queue.

“Urg,” one man complained, “Smells like dog food.”

“Looks like it too,” muttered another in agreement.

Behind them, Muse silently wondered if either of them had ever actually had to eat dog food - she doubted it. She knew from experience that most people would eat anything available in a tight spot, and despite what these civilians thought, dog food was by no means the worst. In fact the food that was being served here actually smelt worse then dog food, but she refrained from saying so.

When Muse reached the mean-tempered woman who was serving, her meal was slapped on the tray with rather more force then was probably necessary, before being brusquely ordered to stop holding up the line. Muse wordlessly obeyed and sat herself down at the nearest empty table.

It soon became apparent however, that being left alone to eat in peace was too much to ask, as three young men - several years younger then Muse herself - came to stand menacingly at her table, opposite to where she was seated. Muse knew a young man itching for an excuse to fight when she saw one - so said nothing to provoke them and simply arched a questioning eyebrow.

The dark-haired youth, who was obviously the leader of the trio, put both fists on the table and leaned forward imposingly before spitting very deliberately into her food.

“Stranded cowards aren’t welcome in the COG.” He said, voice low and threatening. His two lackeys - one blonde and the other brunette - nodded in agreement, smirking in anticipation.

Muse remained silent, even as she wondered what had given her away as Stranded. She looked from her ruined meal to the smirking culprit, her expression mildly disgusted and completely unimpressed. She idly noticed that his eyebrows were so thick they appeared to be one continuous line…

However her silence was misinterpreted as fear and the expressions on the three men’s faces became deriding.

“Nothing to say, stray dog?” Monobrow jeered.

Muse looked at him sharply with widened eyes, the two words inciting a confused mix of feelings. Once it had been an honorific; recognition of her soldiering abilities. Then it had become a title and a name the Locust knew her by. But now it was an insult; she was a wanderer, a homeless vagabond. Once again her expression was mistaken for fear.

The blonde and brunette’s leers grew even wider, but their leader seemed to have grown tired of her silence and demanded a more vocal submission.

“Answer me, dog!”

The look he received was venomous and much too insolent for his liking, and Muse remained stubbornly silent. The young man’s face darkened and he bared his teeth in a snarl;

“I’ll teach you proper respect!” he roared, and suddenly went to throw a punch.

He underestimated Muse’s reflexes: now that she’d gotten over her initial shock of being named once again as stray dog, Muse was prepared for the inevitable fight to come. She leaned back just enough for her opponent to overreach his swing, lose his balance, and plant his face in what had been her dinner. Muse got to her feet.

“Maybe you should learn to fight before starting one.” She said quietly.

The blonde and brunette meanwhile could only watch aghast as their leader scrambled upright, spluttering and swearing and hastily wiping gunk from his face. His entire being radiated aggression and fury as he glared balefully at the impassive one-eyed Stranded. She had humiliated him in front of his cohorts and he wasn’t about to let that go lightly. But when he went to throw another punch, she was ready for him once again; easily dodging his fist before she swung her dinner tray into his face, not enough to break his nose, but definitely enough to cause some hefty pain.

Monobrow howled and staggered back, clutching at his face while Muse watched dispassionately. However, once he realised he wasn’t bleeding, the young man roared and flung himself bodily across the table in an effort to throttle the one who had embarrassed him. Muse danced back, and dealt him another clout with the tray.

By now the unfolding fight had drawn the attention of almost the entire mess hall, and three Gears (of which two were apparently stationed there to settle such disputes while the third had just come in) started making their way over to break it up.

Completely unaware of the scene he was causing, the furious young man began swinging wildly with no thought of strategy, certain that his youth and hot temper would win the fight for him. But giving in to his mindless rage had made him sloppy, and Muse easily avoided the rain of blows; ducking under one wide arc as if he was a mad Berserker. However the dark-haired man was not a Locust, but only human, and so when Muse introduced the thin rim of the tray to the back of his knees, his legs collapsed from underneath him.

The Gears arrived as he was incapacitated; just in time to stop the other two youths from ganging up on the Stranded woman, and give them a verbal thrashing. Muse expected a sound reprimand herself, but instead the third Gear - his hair was brown and gelled into sharp spikes - merely asked for her name.

“Muse Burrows.” She told him. One eyebrow arched and the Gear looked amused.

“You’re to come with me,” he said, “Colonel Hoffman wants a word.”

Father’s Daughter
The spiky-haired Gear - who had yet to introduce himself - escorted Muse from the mess hall and led her into parts of the base she’d never seen before; past squad bunkrooms, and the single bunkrooms for higher ranking officers, until finally arriving at what could arguably have been dubbed an “office”. The Gear knocked, and turned to Muse when a voice within called for him to enter.

“Stay here, I’ll be back for you.”

Muse nodded and watched him disappear into the small room. He was only in there for a few minutes however, before he was back and telling her she could go in. Muse did so, not sure what to expect.

Inside the office, Colonel Hoffman sat behind a desk wedged between filing cabinets and mounds of paperwork. An open file lay before him. He watched Muse sidle through the door like a wary fox, and realised that her cautiousness was not just when the Locust were a threat, but a state of being.

For what he had in mind for her, that was just another mark in her favour.

“Sit, please.” He gestured the other chair, but offered no reassurances. He knew that Muse would come to her own conclusions about whether she would trust him or not, and he was content to leave that decision to her.

After glancing guardedly around the tiny room, Muse took the proffered seat and looked warily at the Colonel. He had an intrigued and evaluating expression on his face.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.” He said.

As a matter of fact, Muse did have a couple of ideas, and they all revolved around some kind of disciplinary for her behaviour. She said nothing though and looked politely curious.

“I’ve been reading your enlistment forms.” Hoffman began, “And I’m intrigued by a few things you put down.”

Muse instantly became tense. Had he picked up on her…bending…of the truth? “Oh, yeah?”

“Your father was Dominic Burrows.” It was a statement, not a question, and Muse felt something else knot in her stomach, but she nodded regardless.

“That’s right.”

“Am I correct in assuming that-”

“He was the same veteran Sergeant of the Pendulum Wars that was killed in action a week after Emergence Day? Yes, he was my father.” Muse had stared determinedly at the brushed metal of Hoffman’s desk all while she had been speaking, but now she looked up at him; single eye fierce and daring him to not believe her.

He surprised her by saying; “Your father was a great man… a great Gear, and a great friend. He would have been proud of you.” He went quiet for a moment, watching the surprise flicker across her face, then glanced at the file before him again. “I’ve… been informed that you… were a member of a Stranded camp near here…”

Wondering where this was going, and still reeling over the revelation that Hoffman had apparently known her father, Muse nodded.

“Our salvaging teams found the remains when they started prepping this area for the COG base.” The Colonel explained, “It was only a burnt out shell, but what you managed to build there… it was incredibly complex for being made from scrap.” Here Hoffman paused, as if he expected Muse to say something. When she didn’t, he continued; “What we want to know is, would you be willing to work with our construction engineers to show them how you did it.”

Muse’s eye narrowed a little as she echoed; “We?”

“Chairman Prescott asked me to talk to you about it.”

“Oh I see, he doesn’t trust Stranded unless they can help him.”

The Colonel sighed, as though he’d expected and dreaded meeting Muse’s cutting sarcasm, but nevertheless leaned forward a bit on his desk as his tone became frank. “Listen, the Chairman’s a good leader, but he’s not always in touch with… well, with anyone not a bureaucrat. But what you managed to accomplish in that camp of yours… it could really help us if you showed our engineers how to do the same thing with such limited supplies… You could save lives with what you know.”

Muse continued to watch him warily, feeling as though somewhere in his words an unseen noose was slowly closing around her neck. First he’d mentioned her father, then told her that she could save lives if she helped the COG. It was almost as if her father’s voice was speaking to her from the past, back in a happier time when she had been just a little girl with her dad.

''“Daddy, what does a soldier do?”

She had been four years old and her father had just come back from a tour in the Pendulum Wars. Dominic Burrows smiled slightly, and lifted his daughter into his lap.

“They do lots of things sweetheart,” he said, “But mostly soldiers are warriors, we fight to protect those who can’t protect themselves, be strong for those that aren’t. There are people in this world who want to take away other peoples’ freedom, tell them what to do and say and think. We can’t let that happen, and so we fight. We fight for what we believe in.”''

It was as she’d listened to her father talk that day, of protecting other people and fighting for what he knew was right and good; as she’d heard the subtle passion and belief in his voice that he knew he was doing the right thing; from that moment, Muse had known she would be a soldier, just like him.

Muse came out of the memory to find Hoffman looking at her expectantly. She had wanted to join the Coalition of Ordered Governments primarily so she could kill as many Locust as possible, but now she knew that she could no longer limit herself to just that. She had to do what was right, had to fight to protect those that couldn’t…

She would be like her father.

“Fine. I’ll try.”

The Colonel looked profoundly relieved as she said that, and replied; “You have no idea how much this will help us.” He paused again, considering, then continued, “Once you’ve recovered enough to have those bandages off, I’ll also see to it that you join the other Gear recruits for evaluation.”

Immediately he had Muse’s undivided attention, and Hoffman could almost feel the intensity of her stare as if it were a beam of heat. It was the same pin-you-to-the-wall look that Dominic had had. Hoffman briefly wondered what his old friend would think of him sending his only daughter into the thick of battle, before Muse spoke again.

“You’ll let me be a Gear? Even with your…rules?” Despite the scepticism in her tone, the Colonel heard the undercurrent of eagerness.

“It’s unorthodox,” he admitted, “But not unheard of. You put on your form that you can’t have children, which means you could be placed in the engineering corps, Intell or some other non-combat position. But,” and here he looked at her thoughtfully, “But… you are your father’s daughter… a born soldier and a damn good one at that. Your skills are in fighting, and I’m not about to waste that asset when the COG needs soldiers that can survive. So… if you pass the evaluation, I’ll assign you to Delta Squad as a sniper and bodyguard for the Intell officer that’ll be joining them. Since Command was sunk with Jacinto, it’ll be the only way we can communicate with our Gears until we put together a more permanent solution.”

He met her eyes directly then, and Muse saw his fierce pride and determination. It was the same expression she remembered on her father’s face and Muse felt the infectiousness of it. He was giving her the one thing she wanted - and needed - more then anything else; a chance to take as much revenge on the Locust as physically possible.

She intended to take it.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face as Hoffman gave a little nod that was half to her and half to himself. “I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow about the details.”

Muse nodded and stood, recognising a dismissal when she heard one, and went to leave the office. As she reached the door though, Hoffman’s voice made her glance back.

“And try not to get into any more fights before then.” He seemed faintly amused though none of it showed on his face. Muse felt a guilty smirk tug the corner of her mouth before her expression became serious once more. She nodded again though, and then on impulse suddenly asked;

“Where’s the Delta squadroom?” The Colonel seemed unsurprised by her question and answered concisely.

When Muse left the office the spiky-haired Gear was nowhere to be seen, and unhindered she went back along the corridors with doors leading off to the squad-based bunkrooms until finally coming to the one that Hoffman had indicated. She took a moment to memorise the pattern in which the dull green paint had been scraped off the door, then rapped on it with her knuckles.

She stepped back as the door opened to reveal Marcus, and Muse arched an eyebrow. He wasn’t wearing his do-rag and his dark hair was scruffier then usual. In fact, he looked rather hot and rumpled in general, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

There was a pause, then Muse rolled her eye and pitched her voice to the other person she knew was in the room.

“Hey Anya.” Marcus scowled when a giggle came from behind him - obviously Baird and Cole were elsewhere - but Muse didn’t give him a chance to speak as she demanded; “Where’s Dom.”

* * *

He knew it probably wasn’t the best way to deal with grief, but Dom had to be alone. The private bunkroom assigned to Delta Squad’s Sergeant offered the peace and quiet privacy he needed to finally mourn Maria, and he knew Marcus wouldn’t mind him commandeering it for a while.

Quietly he sat on the bed, looking at the photo of himself and his beloved wife on their wedding day. The service had been small; attended by just their families and Marcus, but it stood out clearly in Dom’s memory. He remembered Marcus and his older brother, Carlos, grinning massively as they teased him about “losing his freedom”, and the pride on his parents’ faces.

Dom smiled painfully at the recollection, then closed his eyes as the misery rolled over him. Marcus was the only link to his past now. Everyone else was gone; his parents, Carlos, his children, and now Maria… his Maria… He could see her still, even now, as though that image too was a photograph branded into his memory; the broken husk that the Locust had reduced his beautiful wife to… Dom’s throat closed and he squeezed his eyes shut as they burned. The image didn’t go away but became clearer.

“I’m so sorry, Maria…” he croaked into the darkness, “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save you…”

His eyes were blurry as he opened them again, and he looked at the Boltok pistol sitting beside him on the bed. It’d been with him for years now; saved his life in countless firefights, time and time again been the only thing that had kept him alive. But now it was just the gun that had taken Maria’s life, the gun that had killed the woman he’d spent over a decade searching for.

Without really thinking about it, Dom grasped the gun and leaned his forehead against the muzzle as he closed his eyes again. The metal felt cold against his skin. Of course this thought had crossed his mind plenty of times in the past couple of days, but only now did he allow himself to truly consider it.

He thought of his wife and family, calling up images of them from happier times, and felt his heart ache. Just one tiny movement, and he could be with them again. Dom’s hand shook as his finger curled around the trigger…

A soft thud at the door; like someone trying to knock without drawing anyone’s attention but his; and the Latino abruptly lowered the gun as a desperate voice called for him.

“Dom…?”

Muse’s voice.

His Muse.

* * *

It had taken some effort on Muse’s part to convince Marcus to tell her where Dom was. Even though the Gear was just as worried about his friend as Muse - especially when he hadn’t gone to see her in the infirmary considering how fond the Latino was of her - Marcus knew the man much better then she did, and could offer a couple of insights into his absence.

“He hasn’t had time to properly grieve for Maria until now,” he’d told her, “He’s hurting kid, and maybe he just wants to deal with that on his own. He might not want to see you, or anyone.”

Even though she knew he was right, Muse also knew intimately what it was like to try and deal with such grief alone; the helpless rage, the endless guilt, the madness of what if; and had the emotional scars to prove it. She’d made that mistake, and now she shuddered to think of Dom going through it on his own, afraid of what it might do to him. With those thoughts in mind, Muse had insisted until Marcus finally caved and told her where to find him.

Now she stood outside a private bunkroom which should have been used by the squad Sergeant, hoping against hope that she could somehow convince Dominic to let her in.

“Dom, please, I know it hurts, I do, but you cant do this alone…” Not a sound came from beyond the door and Muse felt her desperation deepening. She leaned her forward on the door, as though she could somehow send her feelings through the wood to the room on the other side.

Though she’d come here with really no idea what to say that would get through to him, Muse found herself speaking – saying aloud what she’d never told anyone before.

“I always wanted to be left alone was I was grieving too,” she admitted, voice pitched low so that only the Latino would hear her, “But it only makes it worse. I sunk so deep into myself that I wasn’t even me anymore… Like I gave up a part of myself…”

Muse went quiet, listening intently and silently urging the Gear to answer, to say anything, even if just to tell her to go away. When no response came, Muse felt a lump rise in her throat, and she turned to lean her back against the door. She kept talking.

“I lost something, Dom… and I can’t get it back, not ever… Don’t make the same mistake I did… please… please let me in… I still need you…” The whispered plea faded into silence, and Muse let her head fall back against the wood with a slight thud.

The door abruptly opened, and Muse yelped as she stumbled back and smacked into something warm and solid. Looking up brought her face to face with Dominic Santiago.

He looked a broken man.

“Dom…”

It was all she could get out before turning and wrapping her arms around him in a desperate hug, her cheek against his collarbone.

“I’m so sorry, Dom.”

For a second the Gear seemed frozen, but then his arms were around her and his face was buried in her shoulder. Muse felt something hot and wet dribble against her shoulder. She could also feel something cold and hard just touching the small of her back, and when Dom finally pulled away, she saw the Boltok in his fist. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to Muse and a single glance at Dom’s expression confirmed it.

“Oh, Dom…”

The Latino said nothing, downcast brown eyes tired and empty; sick of existence. Without a word Muse closed the bunkroom’s door, and gently prised the revolver from him, removing the bullets before placing them and the gun on the simple dresser by the door. When she turned to him again, it was to see him sitting on the bed, head in hands.

Muse swallowed softly and silently went over to him, crawling onto the bed so that she was on her knees behind him. She went to say something, but closed her mouth before a sound came out and instead leaned her cheek on his shoulder, slowly rubbing his arm.

Now was not the time for talking.

When Marcus came in later to check up on his grieving friend, he found Dom sprawled on his back, snoring softly. And cuddled up against the Gear’s ribs, using his out flung arm as a pillow, Muse was sound asleep.

A Stray Dog Howls
'' ‘A stray dog howls, when she’s lonely in the night. No one understands the heartache. No one feels the pain. No one sees the tears, when she’s crying in the rain.’ - based on  “Crying in the Rain”  by '' Whitesnake.

The locker loomed before her, and Muse distantly wondered how long she had just stood there, staring at it. She held the key to it in one hand, but had yet to move to unlock the metal cabinet. Not that she didn’t want to, something just held her back.

The label on the door read '' D. Burrows. ''

Muse let out a shaky breath. With her father’s death coming so soon after the Locust’s emergence, the COG hadn’t had time to return his personal effects to his family - except for the dogtags. Now that Muse was faced with those possessions, a last solid link to her father, she hesitated.

“Are you just gunna stand there all day?” a masculine voice called, his tone both amused and flirtatious.

Muse ignored him. She’d tried not to think too much about the locker’s location since arriving, but that didn’t stop the Gears noticing the not-completely-unfortunate-looking woman just outside their showering block.

Finally though, Muse slid the key into its slot, and turned it. The lock gave with a sharp click! Again Muse took a steadying breath then opened the locker, and the flood of memories that so suddenly came rushing back made her eyes sting.

The beaten-up shoebox stuffed with tapes of her dad’s favourite music – all the old rock classics, an ancient player and headphones which had seen better days, a shabby guitar that only just fit into the long narrow locker, and his favourite bomber jacket and a framed picture of his family.

With trembling fingers Muse took down the photograph and looked at it. It showed herself, only about five years old, her mother on one side and her father on the other, all of them laughing as they lay on their stomachs on the front room rug. Muse’s eyes prickled even more fiercely, but she refused to blink and shed the threatening tears. Instead she tucked the picture under her arm, slipped on the jacket, slung the guitar over her shoulder, and carrying the player balanced on the shoebox of cassettes, shut and locked the locker before leaving the changing room.

She didn’t even hear the Gear from before asking what was wrong.

* * *

The rock music blasting out of the headphones soothed Muse better than any lullaby, and she felt calm and at peace for the first time in ages as she worked on the water purifier – similar to the one in her old camp. She didn’t even notice one of the other engineers in her team trying to get her attention until he tapped her arm.

Muse pushed off the headphones and slid up her goggles before turning to look at the self-proclaimed flirt. But instead of Dean’s usual smirking expression, the handsome and grizzled middle-aged man was frowning in what could have been vague annoyance, though it didn’t seem to be directed at Muse herself.

“What is it?” Muse asked, curious about the uncharacteristic look.

“That Gear’s been staring at you for the past ten minutes,” Dean said in a low tone devoid of the innuendo usually present whenever he spoke to her normally. “Dunno if he wants to talk to you or what, but he hasn’t tried to come over.” The words were accompanied by a gesture of jabbing his thumb over his shoulder.

Muse leaned to one side to look around him, and saw none other then Baird standing on the other side of the construction hanger. Though it was too far to make out his eyes, it was obvious that he was staring straight at her. Now she’d been told about it, Muse could almost feel the heat of his gaze boring into her… But then, to her surprise, as soon as he saw her return the look, Baird turned away and left the hanger.

“What was that all about?” Dean’s voice asked – apparently he’d seen the silent exchange.

“I don’t know.” Muse murmured, eyes still watching after Baird even though he had vanished from her sight, “But I’m going to find out.”

Meanwhile, Baird was furious with himself. Ever since their fight in the infirmary when he had seen Muse for what she truly was – a vulnerable woman who had lost faith in almost everything – he had caught himself watching her more than once. At first he told himself it was purely because he wanted to figure her out, enigmas of any kind had always drawn him. But then he’d found himself stealing glances at her more and more, and finally had to admit that something other then her mystery was tugging at him.

It was only when he saw her after she’d been placed in the engineering corps however, a few of days after she’d been let out of the infirmary, that he realised exactly what it was. As much as he hated and was chagrined to admit it, Baird was starting to realise that Muse had several qualities he found attractive… She was sharp, her wit razor and cutting, she was smart, she could fend for herself, had mechanical ability, was an uncanny sniper. She had passion, courage, an indomitable spirit…

Not to mention that she proved an actual challenge in their clashes of intellect.

But now she’d seen him watching her, instead of doing the unsuspicious thing and going over to talk to her, he’d fled like a scared teenager caught staring at the girl he liked.

Not that he  liked  Muse. Of course not, the idea was ridiculous; sure she had some qualities he would have picked in his ideal woman, but Muse was also cold, stubborn, hated the COG, brazen, ferocious, had too many mental problems to count,  and  she’d mocked and bested him on more than one occasion.

Though he did enjoy being kept on his toes, and there was that kiss he’d used to win one of their bouts that he remembered strangely vividly…

 Shut up , he hissed viciously at the niggling little voice in the back of his head,  You’re being stupid, I couldn’t possibly like- 

“Baird?”

The blonde spun around to find that Muse had caught up with him in the corridor and was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Even with one eye covered, she had no problems with giving him a questioning look. He tried to look passive and nonchalant.

“Muse. What can I do for you?” His tone seemed to unease her more, and Baird felt a moment of instinctive smug victory which was immediately followed by a mush less usual stab of guilt for enjoying her discomfort. Why all of a sudden did he care so much about how she felt? He hadn’t before.

“You were in the hanger…” she said lamely, suddenly feeling inexplicably awkward. She had to physically stop herself from rubbing her arm and reveal her feelings of unease. “Did you… want to speak to me?”

Playing his ruse perfectly, Baird shrugged casually; “Just came to see how you were doing with the engineering corps. Heard you’ve helped them build a couple of things.”

“Er… yeah… water works mostly…” Muse smiled weakly, causing the Gear to start slightly, “You’ll be able to have hot showers now instead of lukewarm.”

'' What am I doing?  She inwardly wondered,  I’m having a casual conversation with Damon Baird of all people, and we haven’t started arguing yet… Aren’t I still mad at him for last time? '' Was she still feeling a little emotional from claiming her father’s things? Was that impairing her mood?

“I’ve been thinking about… seeing the old camp actually,” she found herself saying, “In case the salvage teams missed something… but Dom and Marcus and Clay are all busy.” She would need to be accompanied by a Gear to allow her access to the area.

“I could come with you, if you like.” The words slipped out before he could stop them and Baird bit his tongue, wondering what on Sera had possessed him to offer. Muse looked just as surprised as he felt and gaped at him for a moment before she could actually get any words out.

“I… I guess…”

“When do you want to go?” Baird asked, seeing no way out of it now – and disconcerted when he realised he didn’t feel the urge to take back his words as strongly as he would have thought.

“I need to finish the purifier first, so… maybe an hour? You can meet me at the border fence.”

Baird nodded without answering, and turned to leave. Muse watched him out of sight, somewhat shaken by the sudden change of character in both him and herself, before returning to the hanger.

“Weren’t away long.” Dean grinned as soon as he saw her, and winked. Muse just rolled her eyes, knowing his dirty mind, and smacked him on the back of the head as she passed.

“Get your mind out of the gutter.”

* * *

She had expected to have to wait for him - if he even showed up at all - and still couldn’t work out why the blonde Gear had even offered to come with her in the first place. Did it all stem from whatever pitiable part of her he had glimpsed in the infirmary, or was it something else? Muse didn’t know, but was nonetheless surprised to find Baird ready and waiting for her when she arrived at the fence that separated the established COG base from areas still being renovated.

“Didn’t think you were coming.” He huffed moodily, noting that she hadn’t even changed from the cream oiled-stained vest and brown combats she had been wearing before. The thick gloves she used to protect her hands while working were tucked into a loaded tool belt. “What do you need all that for?”

Muse inwardly sighed, not sure if she should be relieved or disappointed at Baird’s sudden return to his old self. Coupled with memories of her awkward unease before, as well the anxious feeling she’d been carrying around with her since deciding to go back to the old Stranded camp, the retort sprang to her lips before she could stop them.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have bothered offering to come with me.”

Baird heard the venom in her voice, but it was laced with something else that was almost fear. Unsurprising really, of course she would be nervous about going back to a place which held such bad memories. Besides, he hadn’t meant to start an argument – exchanging truly stinging barbs and insults with the woman before him had lost much of their appeal.

The Gear found himself wishing that just once they could have the witty repartee without the injury to their prides.

“I’m coming with you.” he said in a voice that brooked no argument, and surprisingly, Muse didn’t protest, but instead looked at him strangely. In truth she was a little taken aback by the commanding authority in his tone - she’d never heard that from Baird before.

Without another word, the pair followed the perimeter fence around to the gate. The two armed guards posted there stopped them of course, but they had the appropriate clearance and were allowed through. And Muse found herself in a disconcertingly familiar place which she had thought she would never see again.

Being in the COG base, it was easier to almost forget that she was back in Vidandear. But now, outside the newer constructions that had been built to house the COG military and their civilians, Muse found that everywhere she looked stirred up a memory.

Slowly, with Baird walking a few paces behind to give her some space, Muse made her way through streets that she could have navigated blindfolded. She passed places where small areas of grass had once grown, but was now churned to mud. She passed buildings where she had ambushed Locust raids, used as sniping points. She passed the burnt out hulks of cars and fallen masonry she had used as cover in numberless fire fights, all of them instantly recognisable and achingly familiar.

Eventually, Muse came to the camp itself, in the cul-de-sac at the other end of a pockmarked and ruptured street. Even the collapsed E-holes were unchanged… The ex-Stranded paused for the longest time at the entrance to the camp itself. The twisted metal of the north gate had been removed by now, the scrap probably being reused already.

Inside the fortified walls, though the camp had long since been cleared of burnt rubble and the bodies of Stray Dogs who had fallen to protect the other Stranded, the images of the attack’s aftermath were burned so deeply into Muse’s mind that she could see it every time she blinked - clear as day. Slowly she entered the gate, but halted again in the middle of the courtyard.

It was almost different enough for her to hold her emotions in check, but the slideshow of images in her mind’s eye were not so merciful. The memories were as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, and in them, Muse walked all the way across the courtyard, through the devastation, drawn inevitably to the safe rooms and the savage butchery within.

As she saw again the mutilated corpses of her friends, Muse felt a lump rise in her throat and tears clouded her eyes. She bit her lip and clenched her fists to hold back the torrent of grief, and for a moment she thought that she would succeed. Then a warm hand touched her shoulder, and Baird turned her to face him.

The Gear’s face was unfathomable as he gazed down into Muse’s tear-glazed eyes. Without looking away or saying a word, he took Muse’s tightly clenched fists into his own hands, and gently prised them open. Both palms were bruised from Muse digging in her fingernails, and with a strange tenderness that Muse would never before have associated with the blonde soldier, Baird ran his thumbs lightly across the marked skin; touching, stroking, soothing the biting hurts; before moving onto the delicate skin on the inside of her wrists.

Muse had had no idea her hands could be so sensitive to such a light touch, and when he brushed her wrists, she drew in a soft but audible breath and dragged her eyes from his ministrations, back to his face. He was still looking at her, but said nothing. Muse gazed up at him, all of a sudden feeling overwhelmingly confused. It was obvious that he was trying to comfort her in his way, but why? Why all of a sudden did he care?

Muse bit her lip harder; she’d thought she was ready to return to the camp and face her demons there, but with the hot tears clawing at her throat she realised how wrong she was. The sudden thought that Baird just wanted to see her break made her fight against it all the harder, hating him for encouraging her to show him her weaknesses, but despite her efforts the barrier she’d erected to hold back her emotions abruptly quailed, and collapsed.

Her eyes closed, and tears began to slid down her cheeks.

Baird watched her fall apart before him, and was strangely torn. Part of him wondered at it; after all the times Muse’s shields had stood firm again biting banter and sarcastic retorts, after all the times they had held against all efforts to batter them down using force and dominance. After all that, all it took was a little tender compassion to shatter the mask and reveal how vulnerable she actually was. Yet another part of him didn’t find it all that surprising after what she’d been through and the mental scars that had come as a result.

Some little corner of his mind was nastily triumphant that she’d finally broken down in front of him, but that was soon overwhelmed by an odd mix of pity and compassion. A million conflicting thoughts passed through his mind in the blink of an eye, and then he tugged the sobbing woman into his arms.

At first she tried to fight him, tried to protest, but then something else splintered in her and she was pressing herself against his chest, face buried in his shoulder, clinging to be desperately and trembling like a leaf.

“Damon…” Her voice cracked as she muttered his name pleadingly. Baird said nothing, but hugged her tighter.

It began to rain.

Muse Burrows
Gears of War: Dog of War was written to test the character of Muse Burrows; an original creation who’s been around for a while now, but only recently really started to develop. Using her in a fanfiction will hopefully help Lobo gain a better understanding of her mindset and character. Though her original story is somewhat different from Gears of War: Dog of War, a few key elements remain the same; the trademark camo cap and orange goggles, the long-barrelled rifle, and her kick-ass attitude. Hopefully her original self will be just as popular as her fanfiction self. Her original story will also be called “Dog of War”, after her rag-tag band of soldiers known as the Stray Dogs.

Canon Characters taking Control
It was never planned for either Dominic Santiago or Clay Carmine to have particularly predominant roles in Gears of War: Dog of War, but both characters muscled their way into the plotline and refused to leave. They both now have important parts to play in the plot. Let’s see how long it takes for the other members of Delta Squad to completely take over…

Plot
The plot of Gears of War: Dog of War is planned to follow the five-Act pattern of the games (this could change should the plot take longer to complete), and will cover the time period before Gears of War, the six months gap between the games, Gears of War 2, and afterward.

Lobo began the story with little idea where it was going. She knew that Muse was going to be the main character, and that the story was going to focus on her life experiences and development. Lobo also knew that Delta Squad would play an important role in the plot. However what she didn't know was where that plot was going to end up or how it was going to get there. When she actually started writing though, she soon found she didn't need to worry, as the characters took over and began to tell the story their way. With a little sifting through That Other Wiki, Lobo soon found the few interesting facts she needed to spawn an entire plot.

Not much can be said about that plot without revealing spoilers, however it can be said that it will involve the origin of the Locust (though that is mainly speculation) and the Locust's religion and concept of the Holy Trinity (yes, you heard right).

Reviewers
Reviewers are what keep the story going, and so they should be mentioned. While writing, Lobo will frequently turn to the reviews she has received, and though they don't always affect her plans, sometimes they influence the direction of the story's subplots. So if you have something to say, leave a review, Lobo likes to hear from her readers.

Soundtrack
Lobo has put together a playlist of music that she's written various chapters too, and will add more to the list as she writes.

Scorched Earth. So Cold by Breaking Benjamin, and Rooftops by Lost Prophets.

Emergence. Just Like You Imagined by Nine Inch Nails and used in the 300 trailer.

Cockroach. With Sympathy from the Gears of War 2 soundtrack.

Vengeance. Hell by Disturbed.

End of the Line. Somewhere by Within Temptation, and Blow Me Away by Breaking Benjamin and the theme for Halo 2.

Bare Your Teeth. Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton and Stand My Ground by Within Temptation.

Father’s Daughter. Have a Little Faith in Me by Joe Cocker