The injection wore off before dawn, leaving behind a restless sensation like ants crawling beneath our skin. Because, of course, the hyper-sensitivity that differentiated fourth-degree burns from their less-severe cousins had kicked in and I felt Avon’s discomfort even with our bond dampened. I blotted the clammy sweat from his forehead with a towel pilfered from the showers and hoped he could sleep through the worst of it.

As reveille approached, I tucked the cloth under my pillow and feigned sleep. When the wake-up tones blared, Avon stirred and tapped his comp to shut it off. His wrist fell back on the bunk with a thump.

“Did you mute your alerts again?”

“Not all of ‘em.” My eyes burned when I opened them, and I blinked, trying to soothe them. “We’re on leave. Three days.”

Avon’s eyes narrowed and I groaned. I knew where this was going.

“You didn’t sleep.” Avon tapped his comp again, flipping through notifications. “Maybe Dia needs to—” 

“I’m fine.” I shoved off the bunk and locked my knees when the room pitched around my ears. Before Avon took notice, I sagged back to the lumpy mattress and pretended to look for my boots with my head between my knees. 

Avon’s attention felt like cinders on my back.

A chime from our comps distracted him. I muted mine without looking. It promptly chimed again.

“What the fuck?” Blearily, I forced my eyes to focus on the tiny print. “Dia—” His name was a curse on my chapped lips.

The door whooshed open and Dia stepped in as if summoned. He carried a hypospray in one hand and a clipboard with two mugs balanced on it in the other. Twenty and A were at his back with hands full of stacked linen. Twenty looked bored and A twitched like spiders nested in her hair.

 Business as usual.

“Do you need a basin?” Dia asked, taking in my posture.

“What? No!” My skull throbbed, and I rubbed my temples. “Ugh.”

“Then you need breakfast.” He extended the clipboard and I took the mugs, passing one to Avon before sniffing the green contents.

“You want me to need the basin?” It smelled disgustingly healthy — not at all like the bitter caf-blend I needed. “I’d rather eat oatmeal.”

“I’ll remember that for lunch.” Dia twisted the dial on the hypospray, pressed it to the side of my neck, and hit the trigger.

“Ow!” I jumped, and green sludge sloshed over my hand. “Damn it! Warn a mage, won’t ya?”

“Don’t be a baby.” Dia adjusted the dial again and treated Avon while I grabbed the towel and mopped up.

“What are they doing here?” I jerked my chin at our other guests. Twenty was eyeing our bunks — moved so only the width of the frames separated them — and A was halfway out the still-open door.

“You have roommates for the duration.”

“Roommates?” Avon tipped his head speculatively. “We’ve got the space.” He waved at the half-dozen dusty bunks stacked on the far side of the room. “But there’s no shortage of that. What gives?”

He was right. Completely disregarding the fact that whole wings of the base were echoingly empty, every dorm I’d seen had extra bunks and the room to set them up. When new classes transferred to the active roster, it was never a question of fitting them in.

“You’re all on med leave, but I can’t keep you in med bay.”

I rolled my eyes at the human officer’s regs and regretted it immediately as my head protested.

“I’m not traipsing everywhere to check on you lot, so you’ll stay together.”

My eyes squeezed shut. I wanted to swear, to tell Dia where he could shove that idiocy. Avon’s hurt, feeding through our bond, reminded me why I needed to be on my best behavior. So I contented myself with a dirty look at the older mage.

“Fine.” I fell sideways onto my flattened pillow, barely keeping the mug from spilling again. “But I’m not resetting the bunks.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Dia directed Twenty and A in setting up the bunks. The quiet tones combined with the dulling pain dragged my eyes shut. My hand registered someone pulling the mug free, but it felt like it was happening to someone else, someone outside my bond with Avon.

I hated how injected meds fucked with my head.

“Is he okay?” Avon’s voice was a million miles away, too, and his pain and anger didn’t touch me.

“I gave him a higher dose than you. The smoothie’ll keep. Have him drink it when he wakes up. No caf-blend. Call me…”

I tried to get my lips to tell them to hell with all that — I needed my caf-blend — but they weren’t working properly. I’d have to tell them later. When I could open my eyes.

“Hey.” Avon nudged my shoulder. “Dinnertime.”

Dragging my eyes open, I frowned at him. Wasn’t I supposed to drink that green sludge? I worked my tongue inside my dry mouth and grimaced; it tasted like something died.

My frown deepened. Even in my head, the joke fell flat.

“Nova?” Avon’s face filled my vision as he sat on my bunk and leaned over me.

“Breakfast,” I muttered. When he frowned, I added, “S’posed to be breakfast.”

“You had breakfast hours ago.” Avon rubbed a hand across my forehead, wiping sweat away. 

“While crying over that stupid prince dying,” Twenty said.

I propped myself up on my elbows, forcing Avon to sit up, glaring at the fucker. He sprawled on a grey-painted bunk that had been pulled from the stack and set up against the wall. His smirk begged for a punch to wipe it away.

“I was not!” My head swam, and I pressed my forehead against Avon. “Ugh. Shouldn’t that injection have worn off by now?”

“Dia gave us both boosters at lunch.” Avon tapped his comp, then twitched. “A, you messaged Dia?”

“Yes.”

Avon’s chest heaved in a silent sigh — a bid for patience if I’d ever seen one.

“Why? That seems extraordinarily forward for you.”

“Dia asked to be notified if something happened. You seemed concerned, so—”

“Always the willing spy.” Twenty’s bunk rattled as he flopped over. “Lea wouldn’t sell us out.”

The door whooshed open before the discussion escalated. Dia stormed into the room, pulled me away from Avon, and slapped a diagnostic tool against my forehead.

“Good evening to you, too.” I rubbed my neck, half-feigning soreness. Sure, it was the flux burn making me feel like I’d been hit by a transport, but he shouldn’t yank me away from Avon. “What the heck was in that shot?”

“The usual flux-burn mix.” Dia tapped his comp, not projecting what he saw. “It’s hitting you harder because you’re an idiot.”

My cheeks burned, and I glared at my lap when Dia plucked the tool from my forehead. I knew what he wasn’t saying — exactly how much of an idiot I was — and why I didn’t want him to spell it out. But I couldn’t figure out his angle. Avon getting more pissed with me wouldn’t affect Dia. Hell, it’d pass for entertainment for most mages.

“So more boosters?” Avon chewed his lip — the phantom tub of teeth on flesh slithering through our bond. “Is that safe?”

“Nope.” Dia flourished his hypospray with a tight smile. “He’ll be loopy, but your leave extension request has already been denied.” He set the dial, injected me, reset it, and injected Avon in smooth motions. “And you two,” he glanced at Twenty and A on their bunks, “are due in the med bay by 0700 tomorrow. Medical General Ford is conducting a personal inspection.” Dia bared his teeth. “He’s displeased with the recent asset loss.”

Asset loss. I closed my eyes. That’s all Twenty-one’s death meant to them.

“Hey. You know that’s how they view all of us.” Avon pulled me back to rest against his shoulder again.

“Yeah, but they’re collared.” Twenty’s random comment drew everyone’s attention, but he was focused on something only he could see. “They can’t. Not that they have the balls to try.”

A pillow smacked him in the face, and A launched into a rapid-fire stream of gibberish. She had to be ripping him a new one, just based on his puckered-lemon expression, but I didn’t understand a single word. When she stopped, Twenty glowered at the wall.

“Sorry,” he muttered. Then he stared at the same spot he had focused on before, tipping his head as if listening. “Okay, yeah, not sorry. What gives?” 

He sprang from the bed to pace the room’s walkway.

“You guys have all this power, right? What stops you from roasting the suckers in charge?” He paused, inches from Dia, and flicked the chain links around the mage’s neck before returning to his restless motion. “Those don’t stop you. Any asshole can—” 

“Are you off your meds?” I asked. “They have everything. The collars. The womb pods. Hell, even the gene samples.” I shoved off my bunk, anger driving the medicated lethargy from my veins, and moved to block Twenty’s path. “We — all of us — do what they want, when they want. And when they’re done with us, we die.”

“That’s your reward for obedience?” Twenty sneered at A. “They have more in common with you than I thought.”

I planted my feet and slammed my palms into his chest. He stumbled back. Disbelief twisted his face.

“What?” I shoved him again. “No one’s stood up to your fuckery before?”

“My fuckery?” He balled his fists. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

When I went to shove him again, a taller, thinner form interposed — the asshole wanted to get her two credits in.

“There’s no need for this.” Her focus remained on Twenty. “They have their reasons.”

Gritting my teeth, I waited.

“Stupid ones.” Twenty smirked at me over A’s shoulder. Openly taunting.

I lunged, trying to get around A, but she pivoted, shoving back against me and pushing Twenty away as he fought to close.

“What the hell?” Avon grabbed my arm and pulled me away. Staggering off balance, I met Twenty’s eyes. A look of pure malice filled his face, and he glanced at Avon. His hand drew back, the nails elongating into slender claws, and launched at Avon’s throat.

And there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.

Crack.

“Ahh!”

Faster than my brain could register, A had intercepted Twenty’s attack. His arm hung at an awkward angle, and he was screaming at A in that language I didn’t understand.

I could have lost Avon.

My eyes drank in the sight of him — alive, breathing, and mostly whole. My knees buckled, dropping me onto the grey tiles. A strange, high-pitched whine filled my ears and bile filled my mouth. I swallowed it down, shaking my head. It didn’t clear the ringing.

Avon’s hand fell on my shoulder as he knelt at my back. He was staring at A, who hunched over in a half-crouch, clawed hands extended. The whine grew from something like feedback to a puma’s shriek. It made the hair on the back of my neck rise — we’d lost cocky shifters to the big cats when our patrols crossed their hunting grounds. It also shut Twenty up, so I’d take it. And since the shriek died down when Twenty shut the fuck up… Wins all around.

The fucker sat on the floor, turned to face the wall, and retracted his claws. A’s remained in place. The lingering whine crawled up my spine.

“What the hell?” Dia echoed Avon’s earlier question and walked toward us. The whine ratcheted back to a scream as A interposed herself between us. Dia raised his hands and stepped back, and the shriek tapered off.

“Interesting.” Twenty’s stare provoked A into zipping between him and Dia. Laughing, the fucker lay down to study the ceiling. “Betcha that’s not in the manual.”

“Care to share?” Dia sounded like he needed some caf-blend or something stronger.

“Claws, fangs, red eyes.” Twenty shrugged and winced as it jostled his broken arm. “Means a line can’t be crossed. Death first.”

“What’s that even mean?” I shoved off the floor and Avon steadied me.

“Death first.” Avon studied the claws. “But for someone that doesn’t die?”

Oh, she dies. I shivered. And she gets back up again. Every. Fucking. Time.

“So she’s decided to separate us?” Dia threw the hypospray on my bunk. “How do you turn it off?”

Twenty shrugged and winced again.

I frowned. He was a stupid fucker, but he probably didn’t deserve to have his arm broken. And Dia itched to check the damage — his fingers twitched and he kept having to force his gaze away from Twenty when A reacted with that ear-piercing scream.

If our dorm wasn’t surrounded by empty rooms, we’d have more company already.

“Who did you attack last time?” I asked, carefully not looking at Twenty. It couldn’t have been A — she didn’t react this way when I killed her, so it didn’t track that she’d react if Twenty did the same. 

“Stupid question. It was Twenty-one.” Grief and rage bubbled in my gut, echoing through the bond, but I shoved them down. “And she stopped because… Why?”

“Dunno.” Twenty kept studying the ceiling. It wasn’t that interesting, though — it was the same damned grey as everything else. “She just…” He shrugged again. “Stopped.”

“Stop doing that!” Dia dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re making it worse!”

Twenty let his head tip to the side, hiding his profile, and waved his arm. The broken piece flopped obscenely.

Dia lurched forward. A blocked him with another snarl and the threat of claws.

Threat of claws.

The asshole hadn’t struck anyone except Twenty. Arguably, he had the same potential to heal that A’d demonstrated. So, not true damage but temporary.

I yanked Avon back three steps until we ran into the wall.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re not starting anything here.” I nudged Avon, whose confusion cleared as he caught on.

“Yeah.” He jerked his chin at Dia. “You don’t wanna start anything either, right?”

Dia stared and shook his head. “I just want to help him.” His volume increased the longer he spoke. “Can’t you—” 

A’s screech cut him off, and he whirled to walk away, combing through his hair again.

And A calmed down.

“Twenty.” I waited until he stared at the ceiling once more. “We’re cool, aren’t we?” I winced at the phrase, expecting him to deride the archaic slang I’d picked up.

“Yeah, whatever.”

I blinked at the unexpected response.

But the whine died. The claws retracted. And A face-planted.

Swearing, Dia crossed the room at a run while tapping his comp. 

“I need the black box off my desk, two stretchers, and an arm immobilizer to room 2463 now.” Dia kept a running commentary with the medicos on the open channel.

Dizzy at the rapid changes — and, damn it, that injection catching up — I walked over to sit by Twenty. His arm hadn’t enjoyed flopping around; bloodied bone protruded from the skin.

“That escalated quickly.”

His lips twitched in a smirk. “Ya think?”

I huffed a laugh. 

“Well, yeah.” I hesitated, watching Avon help Dia roll A into the recovery position and check vitals. “Who’s Lea?”

“What do you mean, who’s Lea?” Twenty sat up and pointed across the room. “He’s right there. Didn’t you see A threatening him when he tried to protect me?”

I searched where he pointed. There was nothing except old bunks and mattresses. And dust bunnies. Did I mention dust bunnies?

“We’re not sticking around here.” Twenty’s grin was feral. “We need our meds, but once we have that…” He stopped and suspicion filled his face. 

“If we get Dia on our side, he’d give it to us.” I smiled at the memory of playing this game with Avon and the other mages in our class. “Out the gate or over the wall?”

By the time the stretchers arrived to haul away Twenty and a quietly protesting A, I was more than half-asleep on the hard tiles.

And Avon wouldn’t agree that over the wall was a better option.

***

I slept through Twenty and A returning from medbay, but not the racket Twenty made when A hauled him out to make their 0700 appointment. With a groan, I pulled my pillow over my head and burrowed beneath the scratchy blanket. A shiver racked my body — a reminder of my flux burn rather than a testament to the room temperature. Then again, Avon’s pain was both less than yesterday and more distant, so we’d healed some. 

I still felt his reluctant sense of duty as he rolled over and stretched.

“We should get down to medbay, too. Dia shouldn’t have to chase us down.”

I grumbled, wrapping my arms around the pillow and squashing it harder against my face. It made it hard to breathe, but I welcomed the tightness in my chest. Still, when Avon yanked the compacted material away, I drank in the comparatively fresh air before rolling to sit on the edge of my bunk. My head throbbed with the change in position.

“Caf.” Dragging my hands across my face, I fumbled for my boots. Bending over gave me an all-too-good whiff of my funk, and I grabbed my thongs instead. “Shower then caf.”

“Please shower.” Avon grabbed our toiletry caddy with a chuckle. “Then medbay and, if you’re cleared, caf.”

With knees that felt like jelly, I headed for the door. My eyes were more than half closed. “This headache says I get caf.”

“Tell Dia you get caf-withdrawal headaches and see how long you’re banned.” Avon’s warm hand on my shoulder steered me to the right, and I let my eyes drift shut.

“Shit.” My hand scrubbed through my hair, making my scalp ache: I really needed a wash. 

After a left turn merged us into a larger hall, low chatter and footsteps warned that others, probably with places to be, needed right of way. Avon guided us to the side and kept us moving. 

“Is that Nova or a zombie?” a half-familiar voice asked as it hurried past.

“You know there’s no difference before he gets his first cup of caf-blend.” That voice I’d know if I was more awake — he was in our training class. “You guys got pulled from patrol?”

“‘Med leave.” Avon’s tone was sharp.

“Oh.” Our classmate’s steps slowed to keep pace. “What, uh…”

I smirked, knowing Avon’s glare had ended the questions.

“So, Kyle and I are covering your shifters.” Elyk — ‘cause hearing his twin’s name reminded me — picked a new topic, but my lip curled up at the suggestion that Tracer’s team was ours. “They’re… odd.”

That got my attention, and I had to look at his tanned, too-cheerful blondness. A frown marred his perkiness. Kyle, walking behind Elyk, never minced words.

“Do they actually give a flying fuck about mages or are they setting up a shitstorm?”

I grinned. Kyle and I butted heads more often than not, but we spoke the same language.

“I don’t know.” Avon glanced over his shoulder. A shifter team — five over-muscled near-duplicates — were closing fast. “Be careful.”

“You, too,” Elyk said as Kyle dragged him away fast enough to stay ahead of the shifters.

The shifters glared suspiciously at our slow pace when they breezed past. But they kept moving. Even the cockiest of shifters didn’t pick fights in the main halls.

The back halls, though? There you’d take your chances.

We ducked into our usual shower, with the usual crowd of mages queuing for the stalls, drying, and dressing in fresh fatigues. Avon steered me onto an empty spot on the bench and I slumped against him with my eyes shut again. 

Because the showers were safe, right? No shifter would follow us here.

“Hey, you’ve been working with those weirdos, ain’t cha?”

On the other hand, shifters didn’t hold a candle to a tech mage.

Don’t get me wrong — tech mages were indispensable. They were the crazy fuckers who came up with fun toys that kept us alive in the field. Pins that cleared the green hell. Transports that ferried us in and out. Hell, even the wrist comps were built by a tech mage, on base or off. And one couldn’t forget the spires.

I shivered and, when Avon’s hand squeezed my shoulder, leaned into my twin’s comfort. Spires were pins to the nth degree. They came into play only when mages and shifters failed to contain the devils. And the crater that remained of Brit-Col testified to their efficacy.

A firmer squeeze drew me back to the conversation between the tech mage and Avon.

“If I had to guess, Twenty wouldn’t have any suggestions about accelerating the metabolism of trans-planar fungus, but he could surprise me. A would surprise us both.”

“Wasn’t there another?” The tech mage scratched his stubbled chin.

“He’s gone.” Avon’s fingers were clamped on my shoulder.

“Left-gone or deceased-gone?” The mage grinned. “Because fresh compost could—”

“What the fuck?” I popped to my feet, all up in his face. His mismatched eyes held no remorse — just an underlying madness. Shit. Was I about to throw down with a vestige? My eyes narrowed — I didn’t care, couldn’t care, because.… I shook my head violently enough to make it throb with renewed agony. “Twenty-one’s dead and you want—”

“Stop.” Avon’s hand didn’t leave, but he was distant. Anger bubbled like hot tar through our bond, searing my insides. “Don’t you have a shift to get to?”

Damn flux burn. Damn tech mages. I sank back to the bench. And damn me for an idiot.

When a stall emptied and no one on active duty filled it, Avon released my shoulder and began his ablutions. As stall after stall emptied, I remained on the bench, staring blindly past Avon.

I’d screwed up. 

Today, when I got into it with a rando tech mage. Yesterday, when I picked a fight with Twenty. The day before, when I’d blown up A. And still, I kept things from Avon — not that any secret would last past our first day back in the field. As soon as the bond opened, Avon would know how badly I’d screwed up — how close I’d come to killing myself and dooming him to a painful death. Or would the medicos have pulled off a conversion, leaving him alone in his head to work until the madness pulled him under? 

Blinking, I focused on the room, now entirely empty save for Avon and myself.

“Avon—” 

The door whooshed open.

The tiny hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Avon felt it, too — tension sizzled through our muted bond and his attention snapped toward the door. A team of five shifters strolled in as if they owned the place. My eyes narrowed. I thought it was the same team from the hall, but I couldn’t be sure.

“You’ve no business here.” Avon let the shower cycle off, hair still sudsy, and maintained eye contact with the lead shifter. I glared at the others with a facade that hid my racing heart.

“Yeah, we do,” the leader said with a sneer. “You’re the maggots cozying up to Tracer’s team.”

“Cozy?” Five able-bodied shifters to two flux-burned mages weren’t good odds, but I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Do we look like we’ve got fleas?”

The shortest shifter snarled — the sound bouncing off the tiles. When he surged forward, the leader placed a hand on his chest, restraining him. Still, they wouldn’t take the jab lightly — the leader’s smile promised retaliation.

“A comedian, huh?” The leader’s eyes went colder. “Nobody’s laughing.”

“No? Guess I need to try harder.” I rolled my head, popping my neck, and rose from the bench. The room tilted and I braced my feet to hide my unsteadiness. “If I gave a flying fuck.”

A couple more shifters joined in the growling.

“I’d heard you were ballsy.” The leader’s lip curled.

“That’s us. Ballsy mages.” Avon cut off my next quip before I’d opened my mouth. “We’ve patrolled with Tracer. That’s it.”

“We don’t care about patrols,” Shortie said. 

Their leader pushed him back again. “We do, actually. Patrol with the bastard. Keep him and his misfits safe. But don’t buy into his…” The shifter’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something foul. “Ideas.”

I blinked. What the hell? Had these shifters hit the homebrew too hard? I started to ask, but the doors whooshed open again.

A burst through, panting like she’d sprinted from the medbay.

“Avon. Nova.” She chuckled — a thready, nervous sound — and looked at the shifters who’d spun to face her. “You, uh, called?”

“What?” The leader sounded baffled, and the others glanced around, equally confused. “I don’t even know you.”

I grinned. A’s brand of insanity was far more entertaining when it was inflicted on someone else.

“Oh, well. Can this one help you anyway?”

“With what?” The leader ran a hand through his hair. “We were just —” 

“You’re not lost?” A asked. Butter wouldn’t have melted in her mouth, and I narrowed my eyes, searching for a hint that she was disingenuous. “Surely that’s the only reason you’d be late?”

“The hell you say?” The leader stepped through his team to close with A.

I tensed. She was our asshole, kinda, and randos didn’t get to kill her.

The burliest shifter had accessed his wrist comp when A mentioned ‘late’ and he paled, grabbing their leader. “There’s an emergency briefing in the tac room.”

“When?” The leader didn’t wait and tapped his own comp. “Shit! Five minutes ago?”

En masse, they shoved past A, knocking her into the stacks of clean fatigues. Only once the door zipped shut did A collect herself and the toppled uniforms.

“A?” Avon stepped clear of the half-wall partition. With an inarticulate sound, I stepped in front of him and stuffed a towel in his hand. After a chastising look — and he knew that wouldn’t change my mind — he wrapped it around his waist, then pushed me aside. “What did you mean, he ‘called’?”

“Oh, it… Um.” She smoothed a rumpled shirt and wouldn’t meet Avon’s eyes. “It’s energy patterns, right?”

Avon’s comp pinged, and a channel opened immediately.

Someone had override authority and wasn’t afraid to use it. I grimaced, knowing who was on the line and well-able to guess why.

“Tell me you have eyes on A.” Dia sounded frantic. “I have a Medical General who’s actually on time and half the assets he’s inspecting are AWOL!”

I snickered — Dia was 100 percent pulling his hair out — then sobered because the general could have Dia killed on a whim. But A was already out the door at a dead run.

“She’s headed your way,” Avon said. Suds trailed down his spine to soak the towel when he ran a hand across his scalp. “You got it covered until she gets there?”

“Yeah.” Dia inhaled and exhaled in a long sigh. “Yeah. Five minutes is nothing.” 

The open channel shut off without any pleasantries. 

“So…” I let my voice arc up invitingly. 

“Shower.” Avon whipped the towel off and threw it on the bench. I grinned, watching him return to his ablutions, but it faded fast. My knees wobbled and I leaned on the half-wall for support while I stripped. 

Flux burn sucked.

***

After breakfast and a quick stop at the medbay, Avon pulled up all three manuals and studied them. He created tables of data. He cross-referenced where the instructions matched and where they didn’t. If the injection hadn’t knocked me out, Avon’s research would have. He was still at it when I blinked myself awake.

“How is it you can spend hours ferreting out minutiae in the archives, but this puts you to sleep?” Avon’s grin drew the sting from his words. The mirth faded fast. “Why do you hide how smart you are?”

I sat up so fast my head spun and threw my legs off the edge of the bed. My breath was hot and heavy in my throat, as if I’d been sprinting through the green hell instead of sleeping. Avon rubbed a hand up and down my back. It steadied me enough to unseal my clenched teeth.

“Why?” Acid burned in my throat. “And who exactly do you expect me to bare my soul to?

“I’m not asking you to strip naked.” A flicker of anger echoed through the bond. “You know all the fancy words that would make Dia respect you. You could elucidate any conversation.”

“You’re saying Dia doesn’t respect me? Because, why? Because I don’t trot out five-credit words and knock their fucking socks off?” I thrust to my feet and headed for the door. “Oh, I’m sorry — flabbergast them?”

“Nova!” A world of chastisement was in Avon’s voice and pure frustration pulsed in both our veins. “Where are you going?”

“The shitter, unless I need permission?” I glared, daring him to say I did. When he remained silent, lips pinched to restrain whatever bullshit he wanted to spew, I vanished out the door. 

The lav closest to our dorm had two thrones, two urinals, and one lonely sink. As I walked past, I hit the faucet’s ‘PRESS’ button. Tepid, brownish water sprayed out, quickly running clear before shutting off, so I claimed a throne. My fingers sank into my short-cropped hair and the nails bit into my scalp. The pain didn’t help me think, but it grounded me. Slowly, my eyes drifted shut and my breathing steadied.

Avon’s words echoed through my mind, replaying until they were white noise. I’d seen him open up to Twenty-one, but he’d opened up to other mages before. Hell, so had I. Was that what this was about?

I didn’t think so, because why would it be a thing now when it hadn’t been in years past? 

And that was the answer, wasn’t it? Things had changed. Dia’s investment in us. Twenty and A. Twenty-one. My eyes popped open. And Tracer.

What was it that shifter said this morning? We needed to stay away from Tracer’s ideas.

On shaking knees, I stood and mechanically flushed the empty toilet. The harsh scent of the soap stung my nostrils as I methodically scrubbed my hands, pressing the damn button over and over until I was finished. My comp confirmed the time — late enough that Tracer’s squad should have returned if they hadn’t run into trouble.

But it wasn’t like I could waltz into any of the shifter dorm wings, even if I knew where he denned. Lurking in the mess wasn’t an option, either. Human officers didn’t eat there, but they sure as hell watched it. And this wasn’t something I wanted overheard — or on record — even if all I got was an agreement to meet elsewhere.

Dia. I snapped my fingers and headed for the medbay with a determined stride.

My feet stumbled when I hit the end of the hall, though. Heightened by the flux burn, my bond with Avon ached at the distance between us. I steeled my nerves and rounded the corner. We’d hurt more if I didn’t get to the bottom of this.

Predictably, Dia was busy. With patrols coming in, inevitably, all the medicos were up to their asses in bipeds to patch. But what occupied him — that stopped me cold.

In the middle of the medbay’s receiving area, Twenty-one lay in a rectangular box. A wheeled frame held it at waist-height. The lid lay on the floor while Dia adjusted something inside.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. It didn’t help. Neither did crossing the medbay to stare down at Twenty-one’s empty face.

So. Damn. Young.

“What—” I broke off to inhale — not sucking snot — and tried again. “What’s going on?”

Dia glanced at me, then back to his work. “Part of the deal. If we break it, it gets frozen and sent back.”

His phrasing made me grind my teeth. Assets. I opened my mouth to tell Dia how big a dick he was being. Then I saw his tight jaw. The shaking hands. I shut my trap. I watched the care he used to tuck the coolant coils around Twenty-one’s frozen body. I took in the crisp grey fatigues that cloaked the stiff limbs. The grey skin, cleaned of blood and foam. The dark hair, combed neatly back from the too-still features.

“Why?” The whisper was choked, strangled by the misery in my gut.

“No. Fucking. Clue.” Dia leaned on the box and braced his arms. “But it took the Medical General’s authority to stop General Ford from sending him to the cleaners.”

My eyes widened. That was a clash I’d happily miss. Still, would that have been so bad?

Dia read my expression and leaned forward. “What do you think happens to Twenty and A if the humans’ contract falls through?”

A multitude of fates — each worse than the last, but only because they lined up that way — accumulated, weighing down my conscience. But. I matched Dia’s pose, leaning over Twenty-one’s corpse until our lips nearly touched above the silent witness. 

“What makes you think I give a fuck?”

Dia inhaled sharply and drew back. He studied me, eyes roaming over my face and down my chest.

“It’s not a competition to see who’s more broken.”

Twenty-one’s frozen body lay in silent accusation. I shoved away, crossing the medbay.

“Look, I didn’t come here to talk about this.”

“I’m sure.” Dia’s tone was as flat as his expression. “Unless you’re actively degrading, I don’t care. Get back to your twin and stop stressing your bond. I’ll be there later to check on you both.”

I started back across the medbay. “You—” 

“Am I interrupting?” Tracer’s question snapped my attention away from Dia. The whole team — the twins, Vista, and Sim — stood behind Tracer.

A sour taste filled my mouth, and I refused to acknowledge the emotion that spawned it. Instead, I pitched my voice low enough it wouldn’t carry.

“I need to talk to you.”

Tracer’s brow arched.

“Nova.” Dia cut in. “You’re on med leave. Leave.”

I turned to argue some more when a lieutenant with unfamiliar insignia stepped out of the officer’s treatment room.

“Yes, sir.” My hand popped up in a snappy salute. “Permission to leave?”

“Permission granted.”

Pivoting sharply, I marched away, sparing only one glance at the now-quiet newcomer in the box. Once outside the medbay, I continued down the hall to the nearest lav and ducked inside. Then I rushed to the throne, assumed the position, and vomited up my toenails.

At length, my stomach stopped heaving and I rested my clammy forehead on the rim. The thought of what else had been in contact with that seat nearly made me hurl again.

“That’s not ‘mental distress’.”

I jerked around, falling on my ass in the process. Sim stood in the open stall door. He handed me a damp towel, and I wiped my face, leaning dizzily against the porcelain. When I didn’t rise to his bait, he continued.

“You were your normal, dickish self on patrol. At breakfast you were chugging caf-blend like always.”

My stomach gurgled at the mention of the beverage I’d no more than smelled in days. 

“Now you’re down with…” His eyes narrowed. “Fourth degree flux burns? You weren’t off-base. And the only thing that happened on base—” 

“What did you mean, ‘mental distress’?” Hopefully snapping up his original bait would distract him.

Sim tipped his head, considering, then smiled. “Officially, you’re out for psych reasons.”

“What — we cracked because Twenty-one di—?” My throat caught on the word and I turned away from the pity that crossed Sim’s face. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You looked like crap back there. Now?” He left unspoken that I looked worse. “There’s no way you’re gonna make it to your dorm without help.”

“You’re not taking me anywhere.” I glared at him. It made my head throb in time with my heartbeat.

“I should take you back to medbay.” Sim hoisted me to my feet, and I swayed like a drunk. “But Medico Dia clearly doesn’t want you there. So you’re telling me where your dorm is, and if you’re lucky, I won’t throw your ass over my shoulder.”

A manic giggle threatened to escape at that image, but I forced it down.

“And when some fleabags take offense, again, and jump us in the shower, again?”

“Jericho.” Sim’s brow furrowed and a hint of growl entered his voice. “Tracer will—” 

“No.” I shook my head, pressing the cool towel to my left eye — closing one cut my double vision back to single. “No one’s dealing with that sack of shit, and no one’s taking me back to my dorm. You’re not telling Tracer — or anyone else — about this.”

I stepped ahead once, twice — forcing Sim out of the stall. On the third step, my knees turned to water, and I’d have hit the tile again without Sim’s fast reflexes.

“Dammit!” My eyes burned, and I cursed the flux burn that turned me into an emotional wreck.

“Look.” Sim sighed and forced my chin up. 

His eyes filled with concern, a dash of pity, and a bit of anger. But not the contempt I’d expected. Giving in, I slumped against him. His fatigues were worn to softness, and he smelled like the post-patrol shower cleaner.

“You need to go to medbay. There’s no way the medicos want you running around like this.”

“Can’t.” My words were muffled by his fatigues. “The Medical General’s on a rampage. ‘Sides, Avon’s not there.”

“Why are you here without your twin?” Sim wrapped his arm around my waist to take more of my weight.

Anger rekindled as I remembered our fight, and I tried to push away from Sim. It didn’t work, because Sim kept a firm grip, and when the door whooshed open, well, if I were the damsel in an old bodice-ripper, I’d have been compromised.

“Nova?” A peeked in before scurrying inside. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Sim steadied my steps across the lav, and A took over once we reached her. She was humming a tune I couldn’t quite place, and I was too tired to care. Hell, when A stripped my puke-splattered fatigues and mopped me down with dampened towels, I still couldn’t muster a single fuck to give. Then the splitting ache in my skull dimmed and Avon’s familiar hands tucked me beneath my scratchy blanket.

***

When Dia checked in, he woke me. He looked like shit and, based on his scowl, the sentiment was mutual. He spun the dial on his hypospray up to max and stuck me without mercy. Darkness dragged me under, and the next time Dia shook me awake, my mouth tasted like death. I glared at the cup of green sludge he held out.

“How many of those have you fed me?”

“Not enough.” Dia scowled at the diagnostic reader. “You’ve lost five percent of your body-weight.”

The sharp press of Avon’s concern made me flinch. That didn’t lessen his reaction, and I knew Dia was going to tell him how bad my flux burns were. So I tried a different tactic.

“Come on,” I said, reaching for his hand. “You know I’m always off my feed if I can’t have my caf-blend.”

Avon chewed his lip before lacing his fingers through mine. “Alright. One cup. But you’re eating, too.”

“Sure, sure.” Relief made me giddy. “Three squares and all that.”

Dia’s narrowed gaze reminded me I was on thin ice with him, though. Some more redirection was in order. I jerked my chin at the BLR graphs Avon had projected.

“What’s the status of our roommates? They outta here already?” The pair either hadn’t returned the night before, or they came and went before I woke.

“The Medical General’s staff is still investigating.” Dia grimaced and fidgeted with his hypospray. “Of course, they’re not listening to my suggestions.”

I tipped my head down. There was one thing on Dia’s wishlist I could imagine the humans — for whatever asinine reason — wouldn’t grant. A glance at Avon showed him absorbed in the charts. He wouldn’t be asking for me.

Licking my chapped lips, I decided I could try to give him this much.

“You still haven’t gotten A’s doses from supply?”

Dia’s focus landed on me. “No. I’ve just… not given her anything. Her levels are almost down to where she started, but she’s still not eating.”

“Wait — I thought the injections were feeding them? I mean, Twenty eats, but he’s…” I rubbed my forehead, then went with my first thought. “... a fucker.”

“What?” Avon laughed for the first time since Twenty-one died.

Not that I’d been keeping track.

“Setting aside the fact they’re completely different,” he shook his head with the small, exasperated smile that broke my heart, “what does that even mean?”

“Well…” I coughed on the lump in my throat and flushed, a little bit happy to have his attention and a little bit flustered that he was calling me on my bullshit again. “He’d eat even if it was hurting him, just to fuck with us.”

Avon laughed again, and Dia chuckled, too.

“You’re probably right.” Dia shook his head. “As best I can tell, the doses are mostly supplements — something proprietary to their… manufacturer.” Dia made a face as if the word tasted sour. “Twenty’s got no trouble getting his mix and eating. A should be eating and getting a weekly, smaller injection, but right now her body’s rejecting anything she tries to eat.” He tapped his comp.

“You ordered her to eat something.” With a groan, Avon flopped back on his bed. “And she blew chunks.”

“I didn’t,” Dia said, drawing the words out. “Medical General Ford did.”

“He’s… not happy.” I weighed the suggestion carefully before releasing it.

“He’s pissy about losing Twenty-one, and Twenty and A being offline for a couple of days to recover.” Dia throttled the hypospray like it was a certain general’s neck. “Plus, Twenty’s still half-crippled with headaches and keeps searching for Lea. He’s lucky he didn’t die, between his meds stopping cold-turkey and then getting doubled up.”

The pilling material of my blanket was fascinating, and my fingers picked bits of fiber off.

“What’s up with ‘Lea’?” Avon rolled over to face Dia. “Did he leave someone behind?”

“Ah.” Dia scrubbed his face. “That’s not in the manuals, but A knows everything, right? The meds are supposed to stabilize his moods and control his hallucinations.” 

I inhaled sharply. That wasn’t at all safe.

“They’re sending someone who can’t lock in on reality into the field?” Avon asked, sparing me the effort.

“To be fair…” Dia trailed off with a wry grin.

I groaned and buried my face in my pillow. First of all, who wanted to be fair? Second… “Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill us now?”

The silence pulled my head out of my pillow, and Avon’s distressed look pulled my head out of my ass. Because, dammit, I’d been doing so well!

“Look, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m just saying, there’s better ways to…” I swallowed hard. “...eliminate assets than having them self-destruct on patrol.”

“Nova,” Dia said, then stopped with a sigh. “The humans don’t care — not that way. You can’t let yourself think that…” He stopped, sank down on my bed, and tried again. “You can’t think what the humans want. You’re valued. We would be crushed if you weren’t here.”

“And then there’d be a memorial service, probably without even ashes to show for it, and you’d all go on without us.” I glanced at Avon, but couldn’t meet his eyes. I sucked in a shaky breath, suppressing a wince as my burns protested. “So Twenty hallucinates this Lea, which is new, and is moody as fuck, which isn’t. Did A technicolor yawn all over the Medical General?”

“Technicolor yawn?” Rolling over, Avon sputtered, caught between tears and laughter. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“The archives.” I waved a hand as if presenting the answer on a platter. 

“Yes, A vomited on the Medical General.” Dia shuddered. “Poor thing stood there, tray still in hand, and didn’t even turn away. Someone’s got to find her backbone. But I suggested it would be helpful to have all their medical supplies in the medbay, and access to their full records.” He shrugged. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Yeah.” Avon chewed his lip and pulled up the manuals. “Can’t tell him you know what’s wrong when you’re not supposed to have all the pieces. Forget demanding access to the solution.” He scrolled through the docs. “I wonder… How is A still above baseline if she’s not eaten since she got here?”

“She stole my caf-blend,” I grumbled into my chest. “She’s doing that thing — force-healing — to fix the damage.” Because not eating wasn’t something a body was meant to do, just like stitching up your own shredded tendons shouldn’t happen. Healing was the only explanation for the little ticks in her line, where it dropped a bit faster. When Avon and Dia didn’t reply, I glanced up at their surprised faces. “What? Isn’t it obvious?”

Avon threw his pillow at me, and I batted it out of the air.

“Okay, that makes sense.” Dia covered his eyes. “Is the world ending, that I can say that to you?”

“Hey!”

“Nope. Don’t wanna hear it.” Dia rose and turned toward the door. “Eat, get some sleep, then eat some more. I’ll be back with a booster tonight, but you’ll need to swing by the medbay for your shot before you leave on patrol in the morning.”

The little smile Avon gave me? It was worth letting Dia see me. Knowing we were due back in the field, flux burn and all? Yeah, that kept my sleep to a restless, half-doze.