RP: 4th Fleet (NSN) [Mission 6] A Not-So-Brief Interruption

Butch and Kaoru swept the right side of the lobby, coming to rows of mail-boxes and activity rooms. Each room had to be cleared so they set about it. "I breach, you clear. Got it, Butterbutt?" Butch asked as they stepped up to the door of the first room. "All you're good for, Butthead," Kaoru snarled in return. Butch grinned widely as he turned and smashed the door off its hinges with a simple kick.

Because of the fact that this was a residential block, Kaoru opted not to use a flash grenade right away. There were plenty more rooms to clear. She went in and stopped, much to Butch's consternation. Some ace pilot she was. Didn't know how to ... Oh. That was when both of them got blasted by sounds of infatile wailing. He looked over Kaoru's shoulder and saw a dozen babies being taken care of by a trio of nannies.

"Can't you read the sign on the door?!" one of them screamed. Butch surreptitiously glanced at it, reading "Nursery. Please be quiet."

"Yeah... our fault but have you seen any other guys with guns?" he asked. "You mean guys who aren't dressed like freaking killer robots? Upstairs. Took everyone's guns away, put them in some locked room down here."

The pair thanked the nannies and reported what they had learnt. "There's a room down here that's got the entire building's gun stowed in it. And the bad guys' CnC are somewhere upstairs."

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Dominic Valken paused and held a hand up to Phaedra as he listened. If the mercs had taken away the entire residential block's guns, that meant that they hadn't trusted the residents not to use them. Now, by taking them away, they had guaranteed that enmity. "Find those guns," he ordered.

"Already found 'em, boss," Linzer reported from the far left side. "Whole basement full of pretty little guns."

"We've got the elevators wired to our remote control. All of them. They're all probably rigged so we're keeping them where they are. And the stairs are probably either mined or watched or both," Hardman added.

Valken laughed. Then it was simple. Every building had a security room on the ground floor. Made for easy monitoring and reaction. So he followed the trail of merc bodies in the lobby and found the room they'd been using. Monitors and computer screens lined the walls. It had a handy PA system installed even. "Residents, this is Grand Admiral Dominic Valken. The Nepleslian Marines have entered this building with the intent to reclaim it from the bastards who have taken away your liberty. They are traitors and we have come to prosecute them. We have your guns and we intend to give them back to you. To do that, we need control of the stairwells. Give us that and we'll get every last one of them."

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Just because they got a lot of guns didn't mean that the Paragon mercs had gotten every gun. Nepleslians, being Nepleslians, would always have something hidden away. So when they heard that the Marines had arrived, not the police, the goddamned Marines, those who had guns hidden away pulled them out and started causing trouble.

A gang of teenagers had homemade pistols which they used to snipe at the mercs watching the second floor east stairs. A couple of construction workers used a shotgun and an ESG to occupy the mercs at the west stairs. Here and there, all over the apartment building, people crept out of their apartments and started using their remaining guns on the mercs in hit-and-run fashion.

Except for an eighty year old couple who just ambled along the eighth floor with a pair of flamethrowers, spitting fire at anything that moved. "See, I always said that our military was a bit slow. Gotta stand up for ourselves, y'know?"

"Yes dear. But doesn't this remind you of our camping trips to Kennewes? Roasting marshmallows over the pilot lights as we burn back some wanna-be bandits?"

And so they rambled as they caused the mercs around them to flee or duck into apartments where angry residents vented their fury on them.

------------------------

Valken continued smiling behind his helmet. One could always count on the mob mentality of the Nepleslian people.

Outside, more mercs coming from the building across the street. "Hammers, that way, Cavaliers with me."

The two groups made steady progress up the stairs. Without anyone manning the remote detonator on the top of the stairs, the Marines and their VIP just had to walk around the mines.

As they passed the second floor, they saw the civilians were winning at the lower levels but once they reached the fourth floor, they got stopped by bursts of machine gun fire from the fifth floor. They piled out of the stairs into a group of armed civilians.

"That's as far as we can go. Fortify this floor and wait for our reinforcements to arrive."

Just as they started to barricade the stairs and elevator doors, mercs started advancing down to break through.

These idiots came with no equipment, graveled Bastilen's words in his mind's mouth. He set his rifle to his shoulder, and moved carefully over to the edge of command. Construction wasn't his strong suit, he left that to the actual engineers. No, Bastilen was more of an electrician himself, and that brought an idea to his mind. He settled his rifle, strapping it to his shoulder, before turning to his command.

"Sir, we've got infrared, and this building's got thick walls. If we could trip the breakers, even on one floor, we could probably turn that to our advantage!"

Phaedra had not stopped scowling since she entered the building. Here she was, trying to keep Admiral Valken alive, and he was charging right at the enemy!

But Phaedra did have to admit he was doing the right thing at the moment: it would not do well for the NSMC to waltz past a residential complex full of civilians while terrorists barricaded themselves inside.

"I just hope none of our civilians get caught in the crossfire," thought Phaedra, images from Tange echoing in her mind.

"Alright Cavaliers! We go with the Admiral! Lets teach these Mercs a lesson!"

Eric was quick to follow his orders. He was using them as stability for his mind as his adrenalin wore off. When they ascended the stairs and watched the civilians, green blooded Nepleslians, battling mercenaries with no thought of life and death, it inspired him. He was a born and bred Nepleslian too, not die hard like the ones on the home world, but he was proud and ready to fight for his empire. He sucked it up and went about his engineer duties. There was fortifications to be built, and he did so love building stuff.

He got into a rhythm with the other troops and civilians as soon as he began his work. They would lay down intermittent fire up the staircase to keep the mercs suppressed while he quickly moved heavy objects and other objects he could scrounge up in the apartment complex. Eric raced through the floor adjacent to the stairway level he would barricade and quickly asked the apartment owner's if they had any heavy metal or bullet resistant material he could use. He was able to scrounge up a large and small metal desk, some filing cabinets, various bookshelves with books, and in one lucky case, a bullet proof riot shield that the owner grudgingly parted with, "for the good of the Nepleslia." He hoped he had enough to at least fortify one stairwell as he carried his fortifications down the hall to his waiting comrades.

"Find that breaker, Wreno."

Talbain was loading his shotgun with frag rounds and eying up the elderly couple a few doors down. "You willing to part with that fuel tank?"

Without waiting for a response the Corporal moved down the hall opening the doorway into the stairwell. Pausing a moment for anyone firing at the moving door before spraying the stairwell blindly with his own.

"Someone get a grenade and some tape. We're firebombing the stairwell."

Bastilen shot a salute up to his helmet as he went charging down the halls for the sight of the nearest breaker or maintenance room. If not for that, he had another idea. Most of the buildings were fully furnished, which meant that a great deal of high-voltage and grounded equipment. With a few crossed, frayed wires, he could overload the circuit for the whole floor.

After the frantic movement, Wulfe detached himself from Hardman's team to rejoin his squad. The marine found himself in the hallway with the rest of the squad. He added his fire against the enemy and then followed Talbain as the ID-SOL started to make a path towards the rest of the enemies, moving a couple of paces back and giving the corporal some cover with his Showstopper.

"I'll get it!" Wulfe yelled, lowering his weapon and going into the nearest appartment. The marine emerged from it a few minutes later and got right to work, strapping one frag grenade onto the flamer's fuel tank.

"Ready! Fire in the hole!" He called out, Hefting the fuel tank and pulling the pin off the grenade before throwing it towards the enemy.

Darkness fell upon the hallways and apartments before suddenly the hallway in front of the Cavaliers was lit up in a giant fireball. The heat and force from the explosion was felt even within the armored Golems. Wulfe, who had been closest, looked like his armor had been pretty singed. Normally a dull grey or dark green, the front of his Golem was pitch black while the back was still grey.

While the darkness had been to make use of infrared, the roiling fireball and the subsequent flames in the stairwell made target identification by infrared impossible.

It did, however, lend a rather ominous note to the group's plight. On the other end of the hallway, the Hammers were locked in hand-to-hand fighting. The ID-SOLs and Jiyuuian women backed each other up without words, sliding in and out of combats to help each other out. One moment Butch was beating a merc senseless, the next he turned and shoved another back down the stairs to stop him from stabbing Kaoru in the back.

Boomer and Fujisawa Miu were darting around, making strikes too fast for their opponents to catch. Hardman and Suzuki were back to back, facing off opponents with their knives in hand.

For all of their individual skill, the Hammers were slowly being forced back. They had already conceded the doorway. Now they were being forced towards the Cavaliers.

Bernhard Greer and Laura Romero, as the squad medics, hung back as usual from the fighting. They weren't line infantrymen, who stood up to take the hit. They were the tactical reserve, committed when no one else was available. As a result, they were the closest to the Hammers and acted without orders.

With the melee swirling, they couldn't fire into the crowd without hitting one of their own. They slung their firearms over their backs and drew their swords. Laura's sheska and Bernhard's NMX saber. And charged, screaming bloody murder at the top of their lungs. Laura's slash caught a merc's head at the temple, cleanly slicing through the bone and tissue as if it was hot butter. The heavy sheska was a weapon which required little skill to wield. A hit was guaranteed to hurt. That, however, did not mean Laura was a master swordsman. She just swung it around like the rolling pin she had chased Bernhard with yesterday.

Bernhard's saber, while not as powerful as Laura's own blade, was far lighter and easier to handle. This allowed him to land a series of blows in rapid succession and ease the pressure off Hardman and Suzuki who stood a little wide-eyed at the sight of Marines using swords in actual combat.

Just then, the building shook. "Commandos are here," Valken announced, in case it wasn't clear. The tell-tale rattle of 30mm being fired by mass-driver rifles, the roar of jet thrusters, and the whine of plasma projectors being fired were his confirmation.

"Admiral, what are your orders?" one of the twin sisters asked.

"No prisoners, no quarter." Valken wrenched off his helmet, a deep scowl on his face. Something had leaked about this. Someone had said something.

"Our pleasure," and then they dashed into the fiery stairwell.

"Wreno, I have a job for you once we get back to Headquarters."

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The mopping up was done within a minute of the Commandos' arrival. Between the Hammers and the Cavaliers, the mercs on their level had all been killed. Not one of them had tried to surrender. Outside, a squad of Commandos in black Raiders had dropped from the sky and started firing at anyone with a gun. Since none of the civilians were outside of the complex, the damage had been entirely done towards the Paragon mercs coming from the building across the road.

Clearing the stairwells had not been a problem. A single Commando going up each stairwell sufficed. Between their 30mm chainguns and laser pulse arrays, the lightly armored mercs died swiftly and violently.

The only casualty was Fujisawa Miu, who had taken a pistol round to her arm. Bernhard and Laura were attending to her.

Valken walked beside Phaedra. "Scum. Traitorous scum, sergeant. How can you take good Nepleslian stock and turn it into this? What is it that warps them? Greed? Resentment? There is a systemic problem here. One, I fear, that cannot be resolved by plentiful ammunition and the appropriate application of brute force."

Phaedra dropped an empty magazine from her Showstopper and calmly inserted a fresh one into the weapon. She grimly surveyed the carnage left over from the engagement; so much of it struck her as senseless. Why would someone rebel against their own government, their own people?

"Scum. Traitorous scum, Sergeant. How can you take good Nepleslian stock and turn it into this? What is it that warps them? Greed? Resentment? There is a systemic problem here. One, I fear, that cannot be resolved by plentiful ammunition and the appropriate application of brute force."

"I wish I knew, sir," said Phaedra, shaking her head slightly.

"Greed, resentment, desperation, corruption; the list goes on, sir. I do not think there is any one cause to drive someone to terrorism and treason. After all, not every able-bodied Nepleslian wishes to become a terrorist, sir." Phaedra shrugged her shoulders.

"I believe numerous factors related to an individual's upbringing, as well as certain societal influences, can result in a person that does not consider normal values and morals of a culture as 'normal.'"

"Some people fight for what they believe in; others fight for what they want, sir."

Valken glanced at her. Clones... he sighed. Never knew a rhetorical question when it was asked. An IPG Raider stepped up to the Admiral and saluted.

"Sir, all hostiles eliminated. No survivors. There is heli transport and gunships circling," he reported, looking down at the Admiral.

"Thank you, Chief Santiago. I'm glad to see you're doing well with your new job," Valken said as he walked past them. The Raider's head turned to Phaedra. "Been a while, Sergeant Volkov. Sorry I've dumped all the work on you up til now," he said.

Phaedra was completely taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Chief. She could not think of anything to say for what felt like an eternity. Oh how Phaedra wanted to talk to Leon and attempt to process these emotions that she was not used to feeling. But she did not dare talk about such things in the presence of her squad, not to mention the Admiral. But instead she said:

"So you work for the IPG now?"

"Nope. Just borrowed their armor," he popped off the helmet. "Admiral Valken and Commandant Shang needed a man to liase between the Marines and IPG Commandos. And they only allowed me back to 'light duty' yesterday so they thought this was the perfect job for me," he grinned easily.

"I saw your man, Greer, is back on the list. How is he holding up after Rok'Veru?" he asked her. "Heard it was pretty hard. His original squad got wiped out when the landed, it seems."

Phaedra's mouth gaped slightly.

"That was news to me. He seems to be doing well, considering," she said, thinking to what happened several days ago.

"I am glad to see you nearly recovered, Leon. It has been...busy...without you around to coordinate."


"Good, the man deserves a break. I'll have a word with Admiral Valken about getting him elited," Leon said. "From what the doctors say, it was touch and go when they got me aboard Dauntless. Didn't help that the ship exploded and I was stuffed into a shuttle by Rochester's medic, the younger Greer. Spent most of the time reading reports and helping Admiral Valken with suggestions for Marine deployments. Though, I'd rather hand it all off to the IPG while we figure out whether we're being integrated into the new Marine Shaik or remaining separate."


As they walked, Leon turned over a Paragon merc and shifted through the pockets. "I had wanted to arrange something while we had down time but ..." he started to say. Leon stopped himself for a moment. Any farther and he might be accused of inappropriate relations with a subordinate. But to hell with regulations. Women like Phaedra Volkov don't turn up every minute.

"Wasn't sure if you were interested in wasting time with a man who seems to get hurt at every turn," he finally said.

At this, Phaedra's mouth turned into a smirk; one that could almost be considered a smile.

"Well, someone has to watch after your ass while you are still mending. What sort of time wasting did you have in mind? I think I could use a little break myself," said Phaedra, surprised at how tired she sounded.

He could think of a lot of things but just grinned. "For now, let's call it something I owe you. Can't make plans while our lord and master is on someone's hit list," Leon replied.

"Just tell me the when and the where, Mr. Santiago. We have some catching up to do."

Stan let himself release the breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding in, feeling his body relax as he did so. Even though they had decisively beat back the mercenaries, certain aspects of what had transpired still didn't sit easily with him. How did those lackeys figure out where Valken really was, much less prepare an ambush for him? As the fighting had come to a close, he had tried to puzzle it out, but nothing he could think of proved a satisfactory answer.

At least the Commandos had made short work of the remaining resistance. Indeed, the fight had been extremely one-sided; but that was just a testament to the talents of the Marines and the IPG. It was a bad day to be a Paragon merc, to say the least.

For lack of anything else to do, Stan remained with the rest of the Cavaliers like he was physically glued to them. If he was needed elsewhere, then he would be ready. But for now he remained silent, trying to make sense of the day's events. He smiled to himself for a moment: if nothing else, he couldn't say that today was boring.

Talbain wasn't interested in admiring the Stone's handiwork in the stairwell once the commandos had secured the area. He was content to take stock of his own equipment and slap a new magazine of slugs into his weapon. He had made his to the stairwell the hammers had been holding before turning to face those that were still lingering in the hall.

"I'm going down to re-secure our transports. We still have a mission to accomplish." He was still irritated but acting on it just wasn't worth the energy. All he wanted at this point was to finish the job and get the Commandant's debriefing out of the way. The Corporal doubted the IPG agent would be pleased with their work today.

Taking his arms off his face and assuming a sitting position, Wulfe looked down the hallway towards the stairway and then back, smoke still drifting off the burned parts of his armor. From what he could recall he was then sitting a couple of feet away from where he had thrown the bomb, such was the force of the explosion. He was lucky he had the armor to take the brunt of it, but the mercs that were caught closer to the blast had become extra crispy.

The marine inserted another magazine into his showstopper before moving to scan the area. He was still on the proccess of the checking the appartments when the IPG commandos showed up and made short work of the remaining resistance.

Wulfe put let go of his weapon, letting it hang loosely from the straps. He rubbed his gloved hand on the unprotected part of his face, and although he had shielded it from the fire blast it was sensitive, hurting, most likely burned and very surely red and raw.

He kicked a loose piece of burned out piece of furniture and awaited further orders.

Epilogue

"Valencia, I have a proposal for you."

Dominic Valken had entered Valencia Ironside's personal room aboard Fearless the moment she had allowed him. He was in full dress uniform while she was in her nightgown. It had been a surprise visit and, considering the most recent attempt on the Grand Admiral's life, sensible. Yet, it hardly helped that she was dressed in such informal clothes while he was dressed so nicely.

Yet the words made her blush slightly. Strange words indeed. When Valken realized she wasn't in uniform, he averted his eyes, causing her to smile. For all his faults, her superior was a gentleman after all.

"I apologize for the suddenness of this visit. It was a spur of the moment thing. And considering the import, I decided I should ask in person. Do you want me to step out?"

"No sir, if it's important, we should get right to it," she waved him to a pair of chairs that she had for visitors. He was uncomfortable because her nightgown was rather revealing and if anyone walked in, it would be a fairly difficult position to say that the visit was entirely professional.

Valencia Ironside found she enjoyed having him in some discomfort. It made a refreshing change from her constant worrying over him. In all her time with him, Valencia had found that Dominic Valken was different from so many other Nepleslian men. He had no particular grudge against Yamatai and cared more for the expansion of the military simply to ensure that Yamatai did not grow so strong as to be able to order Nepleslia.

Indeed, he had personally been involved in the order to NAM to produce the current line of battle for the Navy. In two years, the Navy had gone from near obsolescence to its rightful position as the enforcer of Nepleslia's foreign policy.

He had been unflappable in every fleet exercise, every combat mission right up until he had been wounded above SC-4. This was, in fact, the first time they had spoken face to face since SC-4. If she was honest with herself, Valencia knew she had spent most nights worrying about him on the surface of Prime. If her Admiral was in space, he could be surrounded by loyal sailors and a fleet ready to defend him. On the ground, he had to rely on the Marines and IPG, leaving Valencia powerless to defend him. Just as she had been during the sneak attack on Dauntless.

As they sat, he tried to make small talk. "I saw Captain Barton on my way and he seems to be running a tight ship. I presume you and he are getting along?"

She smiled in reply. Andrew Barton was an aggressive, independent minded captain, a personality befitting a cruiser captain. Yet he was blunt and possessed an easy-going boisterousness that Valencia lacked. True, she was certainly friendlier than Admiral Valken with the enlisted personnel but she wasn't the most outgoing of officers.

"Swimmingly, sir. Not as interesting as working with you, though."

"And that is what I'm hear about. NAM informs me that the latest battlecruiser they're about to roll out will be ready tomorrow. I've seen its schematics and systems. An excellent flagship. With the expansion of 4th Fleet and your promotion, it would be improper for me to keep you as flag-captain. You are an Admiral and admirals like you deserve a command. At the same time, I find myself requiring a staff to manage the Fleet. So I wanted to give you the choice in person. Chief of Staff or command of your choice of squadron. I don't need a decision now but soon."

Valencia was speechless for a moment. As Dominic Valken's Chief of Staff, she would have access to everything. She would become his most trusted advisor and executor. But it would remove her from command of a warship. It would mean that Valken would either find a new flag captain or, more likely, command Dauntless, 1st Cruiser Division and the Fleet himself. If he commanded Dauntless while she was his Chief of Staff, she would be his executive officer. No longer the God-Mistress of a ship.

Yet if she chose to command any of the other squadrons, she could wield a significant part of the fleet's power. The carrier division with its swarms of fighters, the dreadnoughts with their steely, deadly power, or the battlecruisers! She could command the division which she knew Valken would utilize most after his own. Sleek, swift and destructive grace. Command of those squadrons would take her away from him.

Both were a step up in responsibility, both secured her firmly as one of his most trusted subordinates. Yet only one kept her close to him. He stood to leave and she rose with him.

"I have my answer, Admiral," taking a step towards him until she stood face to face with him. His face was still the stern hawkish gaze but she could see he was surprised by the sudden intimacy. "I want to stay by your side until the end of time, sir."

Valken blinked, unsure what to make of the statement, and Valencia realized how her words could have a double meaning and he had only picked up on the non-professional one. "I will be your Chief of Staff, sir. And I meant what I said earlier, sir. In whatever capacity you wish."

While she couldn't say the words exactly, the meaning was completely clear to Valken, who turned back to face her. She had said the words for him, the dunderhead was too professional to admit to having feelings. "It's late, sir. Would you care to spend the night aboard ship and return in the morning?"

"Yes, I would actually. Could you trouble Captain Barton to find a cabin for my bodyguards outside as well?" he replied.

"Certainly," Valencia replied, helping him take off his jacket while he took off his cap.

Nepleslia Prime, YE 35

The 4th Fleet Marines had all been given leave to relax and recover from the Rok'Veru Offensive and the sudden destruction of their flagship less than an hour from Nepleslia Prime.

Most had gone off to do their own individual thing or joined with friends to go as a big group. Laura Romero, the Universe's most brilliant medic, found herself with no other option than tagging along with her boy-toy, Bernhard, and his brother as they visited their family. There, Laura had experienced what having a family meant for the first time and it made her envy Bernhard and Matthias even more.

At the same time, she had also seen how Bernhard was troubled by his experiences on Rok'Veru and by something else, something which he had never acknowledged but seemed to always steer away from. Until today, when he had told her that they were going to meet their sergeant, Phaedra Volkov, at a Mr. Coffeebucks' Coffee Shop.

Bernhard had contacted Phaedra using the military e-mail system but hadn't elaborated much on the details. Only that it involved Laura and that it was something which she, as squad leader, should know about without involving the rest of the squad.

Phaedra was never one for coffee, but it seemed silly to her to arrive at a coffee shop and not order the beverage of the house. So Phaedra ordered a simple cup of coffee with cream and sugar by the barista's recommendation. She found herself a booth and waited for Laura and Bernhard to arrive. Phaedra removed her leather jacket and set it beside her as she contemplated her coffee mug.

The fact that Bernhard felt it was important enough to talk about in a private setting like this had her concerned; Phaedra knew Laura was a bit....different than most clones, but she was a good enough medic and that was enough for Phaedra. She sipped her coffee, cringing at the earthy taste.

The pair of medics were not long in coming. In fact, they were quite hard to miss. Bernhard, wearing a short sleeved shirt and slacks, and Laura clinging to his arm, wearing a pink turtleneck and a skirt, were quite different from the usual pedestrians. They could have been a normal couple on a date, from the way Laura giggled easily or Bernhard's indulgent smile. Nothing about them screamed that they were two of the best combat medics in the Marine Corps or that they were two of the most dangerous people at the coffee shop. Laura's colorful and tight-fitting ensemble, however, made her stand out like a sore thumb.

A hot chocolate and an iced tea later, they sat down with Phaedra. "Hi Phaedra!" Laura greeted with a smile. Bernhard marveled at how, two years ago, the young clone had never smiled and only had insults ready for anyone who spoke. "Hi," he said simply.

Phaedra nodded at both of them.

They exchanged pleasantries, mostly Laura telling Phaedra about how cool Bernhard's elder brother and parents were. "If they don't have cleaning alcohol, you know how they disinfect their stuff? Water and lemon juice!" or "His brother, Markus, once did a heart bypass with only a glowstick for light cos there was a power outage right when they had opened up the patient!" A lot of which also made Bernhard feel very embarrassed to hear, considering what he was planning to say.

"Sorry to drag you out of your break time, ma'am," Bernhard just couldn't make himself call Phaedra by her name like Laura did, "but I had a talk with my parents about this and they feel that I would criminally negligent in not disclosing this to you and Laura. You, since you're probably the closest thing to a legal guardian Laura would have as squad leader and also, you're a clone as well."

"Let's hear it then," said Phaedra with a nod.

He turned to Laura, who had tensed at the sudden grim turn, "I'm sorry if this hurts you but I sat on it for a while, not quite sure what to do with it. I know you've looked at your medical records but not your Clone Creation records. This is stuff that was kept secret from you by Admir... Wazu."

"More of Wazu's secrets..." thought Phaedra grimly.

"Since NAM stopped creating clones en masse some time ago, it only made clones to replace people who had left a will stating that, in the event of their death and irrecoverable memory, they wished to be cloned. So, that was the weird thing about Laura. She was not part of the mass cloning program and she wasn't a clone of someone who had died. She's not a clone of any one named Laura or Romero. That's publicly available knowledge. As a medic, it's the kind of thing I need to know to be able to treat a patient," Bernhard explained. Laura thought that this was probably going to be the longest thing Bernhard ever said.

"So I checked with the NAM tech who signed off on Laura's birth. She said that Laura was the only one made from the template designed by then-Admiral Wazu. You know better than I do how he was meddling in just about everything."

"True," replied Phaedra.

"I asked to see the template and since I was a Marine medic looking at the records of a person under my care, they didn't stop me. I'm not a geneticist so I had to keep asking them what the various codes meant but it boiled down to this. But Laura Romero was a clone designed with two purposes. The first was to be extremely smart but limited in her focus; it's a sort of artificial autism. Laura's not impaired in any way, but she will only care about a certain few things. The second purpose was to be, essentially, a sex toy."

He let that second one sink in. Bernhard felt that Laura wouldn't care about the artificial autism part. She had already admitted to being very selective in her preferences. But to be told that her purpose had been to be a mere sex toy was what Bernhard feared revealing. He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction, but she was silent and focused. She was in medical mode, when she was her most mature, patient, and analytical. It was, in a way, cute to see her like that.

Then Bernhard turned to Phaedra, to see what her reaction was and if she wanted him to continue.

Phaedra scowled and attempted another sip of her coffee. She did not cringe as much this time.

"Please continue," she replied.

"That's more of a conclusion, I guess. There's nothing that says 'this clone is going to be my sex toy, signed Wazu!' I looked over her file again and there's a lot of evidence pointing to how Wazu had her tailor-made for that role. She was born without any eggs in her ovaries, which is a common trait amongst genetically modified sex slaves, since that prevents any accidental pregnancies. Her high libido is another," Bernhard chose to avoid any mention of first hand experiences of it, "Her initial lack of mental development is another marker. It would make her pliable and willing from the very beginning. At first, I thought she was bipolar since she seemed to switch between mature and childish, depending on who said what. But since that was a defect even a NAM tech would correct, I had to look deeper. Her genitalia have been modified to be less fragile, making her able to ... 'take a harder pounding.' And then there's the evidence which leads me to believe that her looks were even tailored to Wazu's tastes since it draws upon DNA from multiple sources rather than a single person. It would be safer to say that Laura is a genetically modified human rather than a true clone, since medically speaking, she's not a copy of anyone else.

"I also have a theory as to why Wazu chose to give her the intelligence to be a medic. As a Nepleslian Admiral, he couldn't just create special clones on a whim. Even NAM would have to question it. But if he said that her creation was for the purpose of adding a highly specialized medic to his unit, then they'd barely question the stuff he wanted. Her being a medic was more of a smokescreen to allow him to order her. I believe she was supposed to have been sex toy first, medic second. Except that the people who drilled into her that she was a medic apparently made a very deep impression on her since we all know her title."

He tried to lighten it up a bit but it clearly failed since Laura was still very intent on being serious.

"As a medic, I do not believe that her specific purpose for creation means that she is only limited towards being a sex slave. Laura has proven that she can be an able medic and soldier and that she can change her personality. Two years ago, I would never have guessed she was able to smile. She's mostly just too stubborn to want to learn anything new and very narrowly focused on what she already knows. The only medical issues are her infertility and her artificial autism, neither of which can be corrected unless we alter her template, kill her right now, and then transfer her memory there. But I don't think that's a very sound idea since we cannot say what will happen to her personality and capabilities if those artificial barriers are removed. Her skill as a medic could drop or her personality and interests could change dramatically. Neither of those issues, however, prevent her from leading a full and healthy life. If she wants children, fertile eggs could be created from her DNA though it's an expensive procedure."

Bernhard looked at the two silver-haired women to see who would respond first.

Phaedra was clearly appalled at Bernhard's suggestion to kill Laura and transfer her memories to correct the problem. But she continued to listen to the medic's theories.

"I would say this is entirely Laura's decision. It would be up to her if she wanted the procedure to create fertile eggs, not that I would recommend that now. But simply "killing Laura to start over" is not an option, and I'm frankly upset you even brought it up, Bernhard. But you did explore seemingly every angle of this problem, and for that I must commend you." Phaedra turned to Laura.

He simply shrugged in response. She didn't understand the way the medical community operated. No doctor ever made a diagnosis without offering some sort of treatment plan, no matter how hopeless the situation was. People came to them with problems, looking for solutions. His proposed treatment plan may have bordered on criminal but it was Laura's decision to make.

"Laura, what are your thoughts. We need to know your feelings on what was just discussed," Phaedra asked.

Laura spoke up finally, "Bernhard would be remiss if he didn't give me that option. One of the things I learned while watching his parents is that his family make every option available to a patient so that the patient could decide. You heard him say that he didn't think it was a good idea and he can't make me do something I don't want to do. But you're right; it's a terrible idea."

She took another moment to digest and make sure she understood everything that he had said. Was she angry at him for telling her this? That her original purpose in life was to screw morning, noon and night? That the medical skills she took so much pride in were simply legitimizing factors for that baser purpose? Yes, yes she was angry. But not at Bernhard. Angry at Wazu, at the people at NAM who had blindly obeyed. Not Bernhard, he was the one who had cared enough to look where she hadn't dared to look.

"As far as kids go, I think we can decide that later. Since there's no other treatment options available, then we're still operating on status quo, except that both Phaedra and I know what the score is now. But... why now?"

Here Bernhard hesitated, actually searching for words. "Well... it was because you told me once that you wanted to figure out who you are so that you could decide who you could become. When I found out what I have, I didn't know whether to tell you or not. So I talked with Mark and Dad yesterday while you and Mom went shopping for clothes. They said that it's not for me to hide your medical past from you and that you ought to be made aware of it so that you don't find out in a more shocking manner. Like if Wazu turned up tomorrow and started doing something."

He wasn't being apologetic. Laura saw how he was sticking to his guns because of his beliefs. For all his weaknesses, he was still horribly unflappable when it came to medicine. But this revelation also made her realize something else - was she actually in control of her feelings or were they just what her genes told her to be like? That was a question she didn't want to ask him. "Go away for a while, I want to talk to Phaedra about girl stuff," Laura said abruptly.

Bernhard rose and left without a word, heading down the road. Finally, when he was out of sight, Laura looked at Phaedra. "That's... not ... I ... He once asked me if I knew what love was," she stammered before finally crystalizing her thoughts. "It was something I'd heard about but it sounded like a simple instinct to procreate with the most desirable mate. Do you know what it is?"

"I am not sure even the greatest of scholars can truly answer that question, Laura. But what I can tell you is that your constant need to procreate would more likely be called lust. Love is sacrifical, where lust is tends to be self-centered." Phaedra paused, trying to describe the indescribable.

"I would describe love as a willingness to do anything for someone you care about. I cannot call myself an expert on the subject, but that is how I would describe love. If you feel the need to sleep with some passerby without really even knowing them, I would call that promiscuity." Phaedra paused again, not even certain she was making sense.

"Do you understand what I am trying to explain?"

Laura felt even more uncomfortable and uncertain. "I was like that when I first joined... Anyone and everyone... Then it was just Bernie cos I thought I liked him more than the others. He was nice to me and he wasn't an idiot like that Cedric or Sawyer. But when he left, I thought about his question. I thought I might have loved him because I wanted him to come back, but then he came back all..." Laura stopped, realizing she had almost spilled the beans about Bernhard's depression and nightmares.

"All tired and dull. You saw how happy I was. I thought the man I loved was back... Now he tells me that my genes and whole purpose in life was to be someone's sex-toy. That I'm not the Most Brilliant Medic in the Universe because I was made to be that but because it was a cover! I dont even know if my feelings are my own or just what I'm programmed to think anymore..." Laura started crying. Her first tears ever. Her world was shattered and she didnt even know if she was even in charge of her own emotions.

Phaedra was surprised to see Laura break down and cry. As she had never really seen Laura sad before, this was unsettling. Phaedra rose from her seat and sat down next to Laura and put her arm around the sobbing woman. Phaedra gently put her other arm around Laura and embraced her in a motherly fashion.

"It will be all right, Laura. You are still the Most Brilliant Medic in the Universe in my book," said Phaedra with a rare smile.

"Yes, you were created to be proficient as a medic, but you chose to be good at it. You are not a robot programmed to do certain tasks. You may be skilled in certain areas and have strong desires in other areas, but the actions you take are still your decisions to make."

"But do I love him or is he just the guy I want to fuck because I need to fuck?" she sobbed.

"Firstly, I will not hear that unacceptable language from you," scolded Phaedra, but then her gentle tone returned.

"Secondly, it seems to me like you care greatly for Bernhard. While you may desire him physically, if you miss him when he is gone, if you care for him, wish the best for him, that sounds like love to me," she said.

"And think of Bernhard; he went through all this effort for you. He did the difficult, but ultimately right thing in finding out about your past. I do not think he would have just done that for anyone, or just for his patient."

"I ... " Laura started to reply but was spared from answering when Bernhard appeared, with two familiar faces. Familiar, at least, to Laura. Phaedra only knew one of the two people the tall man was frog marching.

"Found these tailing me," Bernhard grinned, like a cat satisfied with his catch. Matthias and Sascha Greer smiled weakly at their foiled attempt. They were dressed like bikers and wore black wigs that hid their sandy blonde hair. "Uh, hi Sergeant," Matthias grinned as Bernhard let them go.

Laura swiftly wiped away her tears before turning to face them. She couldn't quite hide her bloodshot eyes.

"My sister, Sascha, Sergeant," Bernhard pulled off the wig and squeezed the smaller girl's head. Sascha Greer was a freckled young woman with her hair tied in a bun so that it was covered by the wig. She waved shyly.

Phaedra gently released Laura from her hug and stood before the Greers.

"Bernhard, please follow me outside," said Phaedra, quickly exiting the coffee shop.

Bernhard followed without a word. Both of his siblings caught his look and descended upon Laura.

Once they were outside, Bernhard leaned against the coffeshop window as though it was a normal chat.

"Bernhard..." said Phaedra, trying to formulate the right words. She mimicked his posture and leaned against the glass as well.

"...Do you have...feelings...for Laura? Not just as a friend or a comrade; but romantically?" said Phaedra bluntly.

"Speak honestly."

Bernhard stared at Phaedra, unblinking. There was no expression, just the usual serious face that was his norm. It wasn't a part of the younger Greers, being adoptive siblings. Then he glanced into the shop, where his siblings were talking to Laura, clearly concerned about the tears she must have been crying.

"Yes I do. I would marry her if I thought I was doing her a favor. But I don't think I'm the right guy for her. She may think so but I'm not convinced," he finally said.

"Laura Romero is, developmentally, younger than all of us. She also has had the least exposure to the wider Nepleslian experience. The first night at home, she looked so lost at the dinner table. But she's also something of a medical prodigy. She is basically a doctor with a medic's license. Give her six months with the right books and she'll be able to do neurosurgery. She has the potential to be someone in Neplelsia's medical community. Laura talked rings around my parents and Markus about medical knowledge. They've got over seventy years of experience as doctors and Laura blew their minds. After watching one of Mom's surgeries, Laura could give critique. Her medical mind is... unprecendented. She can find plenty of better men, with better prospects than a guy who aspires to take over the family clinic. She just doesn't know it yet because she hasn't known anything or anyone but the military."

He had said it. The one reason why he had never fully embraced Laura's affections. The moment he did, she would close all other avenues of future prospects. He loved her too much to tie her down to him and a clinic that could barely make ends meet.

Phaedra paused, contemplating what Bernhard had just said.

"What if she does not want anyone else? I understand your reasoning, but love is...not always logical. I think you should speak with her, Bernhard. Yes, there are risks involved, but it may be for the better."

"Humans aren't logical. Especially if they're ill. If I speak to Laura, she would definitely close her mind to anything else. She would convince herself that working at the clinic is what she wants. Her decision making, especially with regards to what she wants, is impulsive and Laura has told me that she wants to be her own person. How can she be her own person if she shuts away her future by convincing herself that I represent all that she wants? It's a very twisted form of self-determination," he argued and then sighed.

"Matt...Matthias says I'm overthinking this. He's been pressing me about it ever since I got back to the Fleet. Apparently, he and Laura have been having chats about what the family is like and what we do. I just... know she'll tailor her desires to be in line with what I want. Like a child trying to please a parent."

"Dammit Bernhard! She said that she loves you; just go in there and talk with her!" said Phaedra. She grabbed Bernhard by the shoulder and spun him around towards the door. She then shoved him carefully through the doorway back into the coffee shop.

The three Nepleslians sitting at the table looked up at him. "Bernhard," Sascha said, uncharacteristically somber. "You've been making Laura cry. And ... " she started when she saw that glare only her two eldest brothers could make. Markus' was scarier though. But beyond that, Bernhard had no idea what to say after he sat down. But with Phaedra behind him, he struggled to find the words.

"Laura, I ... I know my siblings think we're in a serious relationship but we both know I..." Bernhard stopped. He looked like he was making a decision about something when he abruptly stood up, grabbed Laura's arm and pulled her to follow him. They left the cafe, passing Phaedra outside without a word. Bernhard looked fixed resolutely upon something while Laura followed, puzzled, nervous and curious.

Matthias and Sascha came out, holding their drinks. "He probably want some time alone with her," Matthias commented. "All the more reason for us to follow them. Coming, Ms. Volkov?" Sascha replied before they set off after the pair. Phaedra was also curious as to where they were going, so she quickly finished her cup of coffee. Grabbing her jacket, Phaedra followed after the Greer siblings.
Bernhard's route was a direct line to one of Prime City's parks. But he didn't stop until they arrived at a particular bench by the small lake. It was one of the few natural scenic locations in Prime City.

While they stood together silently, their followers hid behind bushes close enough to hear the conversation. Neither spoke, though Laura kept glancing up at Bernhard to see what was going on his mind. Her arms were around his as she leaned against his left shoulder. When he turned his head, a ghost of a smile was on his face. Their eyes met before he spoke.

"Laura Romero, marry me." It wasn't a question or a request.

Emotions flickered across Laura's face as her head deciphered the words she didn't believe she was hearing.

"One clarification before I answer. Do you mean 'marry' as in the life-long, you-and-me-grow-old-together-and-have-kids type of marry or ... um... some other kind?" she asked, her brilliant brain was failing her, failing to compute just what the man she loved had just said.

"Whichever kind you prefer," her big teddy bear said, still with his serious face on. Laura's mind raced to form an answer which she wouldn't regret.

"Then... on two conditions. First, no secrets again. Ever. Unless it's a surprise party or something like that. Second, you kiss me here and now until we can't breathe."

Bernhard looked at her and the seriousness evaporated. "Done." And swiftly, his lips locked onto hers as he lifted her up, holding the taste of her breath in his mouth. Each iota of breath seemed to have a different flavor, changing with each heartbeat so that each moment became locked in his memory as a distinct moment. Each second passed slowly.

For Laura, it was the opposite. Time rushed by, the events of the day and the moment had swept her off her feet and now, now she had the man she loved, longed for and desired, declaring that he wanted her to be his forever. He was kissing her! Bernhard almost never kissed her! And never like this! His lips held hers in the same way his large arms held her, strong yet comforting. Warmly and firmly. He had once called her an ice-queen. If his warmth caused her to melt in ecstasy, that was a price Laura was happy to pay.

Behind the bushes, they had heard it all. Matthias and Sascha could barely keep silent. Their brother had just done the most un-Bernhard-like thing ever! He had acted on impulse!

Phaedra was surprised to hear Bernhard's proposal, but then she supposed it was the right decision for both of them; there was no sense in beating around the bush when both of them knew where they stood. And then Bernhard suddenly kissed Laura passionately on the lips. Phaedra's face blushed at the display of affection, and she found herself wondering where Leon Santiago was; she envisioned him and herself in the same positions as Laura and Bernhard.

"I make matters of romance sound so simple when I talk about them, but I can barely express how I feel towards Leon, if what I actually feel for him is love," thought Phaedra.

It was time to give Chief Santiago a call.

"Mom and Dad are gonna freak," Matthias hissed in excitement.

"Markus is gonna frown and look sternly at Bern!" Sascha added.

"Sergeant Volkov, shall we run away before we're found? And would you like to have dinner with us tonight? I think we're going to have some big news drop on us and I'm sure that we can all agree you deserve some credit for it," Matthias offered.

"I would not mind that at all. Thank you," said Phaedra with a nod.