Two Years Ago: Volterra Base.
Eris is alive.
Laila encountered her out during a solo patrol near Prato, didn’t believe it at first. Not only was Eris alive, but she was working for the Empire. So she turned traitor, right? Not… exactly. It’s… difficult to explain. So very difficult and Laila is still wrapping her head around it.
Eris was wearing a muzzle; like some sort of fucking dog.
It didn’t make any sense, she didn’t even recognize Laila when she breached Ares’ cockpit.
Made no sense, didn’t even recognize Laila when she breached Ares’ cockpit. Maybe it had something to do with that cable stuck in Eris’ neck? Dunno, made no damned sense. Was about to pull out the damned thing in an effort to save her. Except… no. 
Some white haired woman appeared on the monitors. Said, “Though I find it commendable that you wish to save Eris, if you disconnect her now, she will die.”
Laila didn’t disconnect Eris, didn’t fucking take her back to the rebellion.
Laila is a coward, a godsdamned coward. Instead, she listened. This mysterious woman—Epsilon, apparently—claimed to only want to help. Oh, she absolutely was talking up a storm of bullshit, there was no doubt about that. Thing is? She spoke truths in it all.
The rebellion is failing; Adama doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to tell anyone the truth. But even with the minimal territorial gains as of late, there’s still the ever present sword hanging above their heads. The Empire puts up with the existence of the rebels, not because they’re an actual thorn; It gives officers with an itchy trigger finger and god complexes something to do.
Sure, there’s always the Europa link to it all: The bastards who are secretly funding the rebels as part of some bullshit shadow war. But the second that that funding becomes inconvenient, it’ll go away. Always something to divert it to. Adama never told anyone, but Laila did some digging awhile back after Eris’ supposed death. They’re providing funds to multiple cells, not because they believe in the cause; they don’t. It’s another way to get at the Empire without either having to fire a shot.
It’s all stupid fucking politics. 
From their few conversations, it’s hard to get a read on what Epsilon wants exactly. If it was Wardog’s heads on a spike, well, she had a chance. Shit, she’s had multiple. Claims to want to help, that she can offer them a way out. 
Hah, that’s the thing: Laila’s actually considering the offer. Idiotic, right? Imperials lie out their ass. But… if there’s even a chance that it’s true, she has to try. It’s insane, but she found a place deep in the countryside. Untouched by the war, secluded, all that. They could destruct Ixion and Argos, and just live as people again. No more death and despair; no more mourning friends. Problem is that she fucking blurted it out during one of June’s panic attacks, didn’t mean to, but she knows about the countryside thing now.
Had to tell her, had to get her hopes up over probably nothing. Gods, Laila is such a piece of shit, but that’s the kind of person she is. Someone who lies about simple things like the past. Oh, she told June the sanitized truth, that she chose to leave behind the caravan life; not that Laila killed her bastard of a dad because that drunken piece of shit tried beating her again. She still sees his fucking corpse in her dreams, can still remember how many times she shot him; twenty times in the chest. They had to tear her off of him, because she started beating his fucking corpse with her fists.
Unfortunately that’s the kind of person she is, someone who is willing to destroy everything for a modicum of hope. She killed the bastard on the hopes that she would survive.
And now that she’s in the same situation again? Looks like she has to make a deal with the devil to survive.
Problem is that they’re both too godsdamned stupid to just quit. Case in point: Laila sat down with the boss man. Words come down from on high, they want to hit Aurelia. Right now it’s little skirmishes near the border, nothing crazy. Year’s time, they want to start full scale operations, believing that if Aurelia is liberated, the Empire will pull out of Kitala all together. Which, yeah, they’ve taken some big losses lately. 
Outside of Gormo and their factories out in Aurelia, Empire’s got no way to produce more mechs currently. What few factories out in Kitala have been either destroyed or liberated. And the refineries for their precious reactors? Trashed. But they’ll build more, repair the current ones. Rebels are riding high, feeling invincible, like they’ve finally given the Empire a black eye. Bullshit. They’ll rebuild, make things worse for the poor fuckers stuck working for them.
None of the rebels want to see the big picture. Laila sees it, knows it for a fact. She’s seen the results before. You don’t survive this long without seeing the horrors of this world at least once. 
To make matters far worse, Laila met with Eris again. She was awake this time, and they… they fucking hugged. Didn’t want to let her go, but obviously had to. Epsilon planned it out. Had the two of them meet somewhere secluded, far from any prying eyes. Laila can confirm that Eris is alive, while Eris gets to play courier. Thought for sure it was a trap, but only Ares showed up. Epsilon had some present she couldn’t give in person: A comms device. 
Just plug it into Argos, and it’ll establish a private line straight to the scary bitch herself. Nothing crazy, just a fancy thumb drive, but Epsilon said to use it when Laila’s made a decision.
On what?
Isn’t it obvious?
Help.
Epsilon wants to help them, she knows how fucked everything is. And for some reason she’s… sympathetic? She’s an Imperial, everything wrong with this fucking world, so why? Why is she so fucking sympathetic? Claims to know all about June’s anxiety; her depression. Despite the obvious targets on their backs, Epsilon has yet to set up an ambush, or worse: Attack Volterra. So there are obviously no tracking devices in this thing unless it’s only active when plugged in.
Laila sighs, hunching over the side of her bed. Gods, she’s been stuck racking her brain over this. She believes in the rebellion, but they can’t win, it’s impossible. June’s dead asleep next to her, hopefully having good dreams for once.
… She had another breakdown the other day.
It was before she proposed. Which, yeah: Juniper proposed. They’d just come back from a harrowing mission, could hear how scared she was over comms. Ixion took some bad hits, but what did her in was Argos losing an arm. She was fucking sobbing, screaming for Laila. Forgetting that this bitch was made of tougher shit than that.
Seems like June made the decision then and there to finally get off her ass and propose. Probably didn’t want either of them to die, without her having popped the question. Shit, how could Laila have said no? She loves this woman more than anything. Hard to believe it’s that same arrogant merc she once wanted to smack.
Laila grips her dog tags tightly, staring down at them. In lieu of rings, they exchanged dog tags. Fucking tore up the mess with how loud everyone was cheering. Didn’t even have to involve booze either. She should be happy, her heart truly belongs to June now, but… she isn’t.
This only complicates everything.
Every little fucking thing.
Fighting back an urge to scream, Laila digs for her jacket, pulling the thumb drive out from the right pocket. It’s small, black, shiny, but inconspicuous. No Imperial markings, no nothing, you could mistake it for a normal thumb drive. Don’t even need to plug it into Argos, could plug it into a tablet or—or just give it to ops, say she took it from an officer. Maybe it has intel to win them the war, or at least a stalemate, to force the Empire back.
Does she dare?
No, she does not. Because Laila Praxian is a piece of shit who will lie, cheat and steal, if it means that she and those she truly loves will be safe. So fuck it. She’ll do it. Talk to the devil who promises to help. 
Sorry, June. If this kills us, then we’ll see each other in hell. I love you too fucking much to see you have another breakdown because you can’t bear the thought of losing me.
Laila throws on her jacket, laces her boots up tight and stands. It’s 0300, nobody will be awake, perfect time to betray everything they’ve ever worked for. Trembling hands open the door, stepping out into the concrete hallway.
Get it together Praxian, you’re doing this for June. If you don’t do this, she will die. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And you’ll have lost your only chance to save the one bitch in this world who’ll ever love you. 
She’s your wife now: Fucking do this to save your beautiful, loving wife.
Laila clenches her fists tightly, walking down the quiet halls. Hangar isn’t far, but it’s not too late to turn back and—and what? Whatever Epsilon is offering is a hell of a lot better than Adama’s “fight until you die.”
Laila tried asking him about giving Wardog some light duty, he said no. Hard no. “Wardog are too valuable to the cause, we need you on the front lines.” Probably still holding a grudge from when Laila gave the fucker a shiner. Harrowing fight, fifteen dead, first damn thing he asks about? The fucking mission. Laila fucking decked him. Serves the motherfucker right. 
She was his right hand for some time, felt like there was a mutual respect. He never respected her though, doesn’t even pay attention to the needs of his subordinates. He’s not out there fighting, he’s in his comfy concrete bunker deep underground, while his pilots are dying for a cause Laila isn’t even sure he believes in.
Through the hangar doors she continues walking, burying her hands in her jacket. Mora’s more understanding; gave Wardog their own hangar berths at the far end, just so they had a spot to decompress. Clearly understanding better than most, that these aces are just people.
Plus, it gives the mechanics more space to work on Ixion and Argos, without worry of needing to move other machines out of the way. Hah, she’s always thinking about her crews first and foremost. Gods, Mora deserves somewhere better than this old shithole.
Laila stops at the far end, staring up at Ixion.
That gunmetal gray beast stands tall with much of its external panels opened for maintenance. Even now, Laila finds herself transfixed by the machine. It’s everything that Argos is not: Sleek, tall, and gods is it beautiful.
No more stalling.
She climbs up the ladder of Argos’ berthing. Once inside, she closes the hatch, booting up the electronics. Then, against her better judgment: Inserts the thumb drive into Argos’ computer. It’s probably bullshit, a virus or something, no way this bitch is even awake at 0300, right?
Hah, wouldn’t that be easier?
Plain as day, Epsilon appears on the screen. ‘Laila Praxian, just as I expected, good evening.’ There’s that emotionless tone again, one that Laila’s gotten so fucking familiar with. Snow white hair, pale white skin, but those eyes? That’s what Laila fears from this woman. They’re sharp and deadly.
She doesn’t say anything. Not a word. She wants to, wants desperately to. But what is she supposed to say? “I’m ready to betray everything for June?” It’s too late to back out, it’s been inserted, Epsilon is there, awaiting an answer.
Swallowing her pride, betraying her friends, and sighing all at once, Laila responds with a nod. “Look. Just, just cut the crap. Pretty clear I made my decision, yeah?” 
‘Hm.’ The sharp gaze of Epsilon falls upon her; Laila can only clench a fist in fear. ‘Indeed you have.’
“So what now?” Laila’s hands tremble. The cockpit’s closed, no one knows she’s here. No one will know she’s turned traitor, but what if this isn’t encrypted? Or worse: This is a trap. “I just, I want to save June, we’re too beaten and battered to keep fighting. She’ll disagree, hell, she’ll go down kicking and screaming, but I’ve seen the damage for myself.”
Epsilon hums. ‘For now? Nothing.’
“What?! But you promised to help me! You… you’re just going to kill us, aren’t you!?” Laila did everything wrong, she’s fucked up, this is the end isn’t it?
‘Please. If I’d wanted you dead, you would have been dead already. Did you think it some coincidence that you just so happened to encounter Eris? I believe I deserve more credit than that.’ Epsilon’s mocking her now and it’s enough to make Laila want to punch the fucking screen out.
Ahahahaha, but that’s the thing, she can’t. The walls are closing in and it’s too late to run. Not when the goal is in sight. “Tell me. How. How in the fuck do I save June!?”
‘Hm,’ Epsilon chuckles darkly, her ice cold gaze staring directly through the monitor. We come to a mutual understanding. You want to save your beloved, but to do so is not simple.’
Rage boils over, Laila strikes the instrument panel. “HOW!? HOW DO I SAVE JUNIPER!?” She’s going to do worse than hit an instrument cluster next. “I NEED TO SAVE HER, BEFORE… Before she kills herself…” Rage fades away, her fist no longer clenched. “… Please.”
‘I can save her, just as I saved Eris.’ 
“You’re lying!” Laila’s fist clenches again, but not in anger: in fear. “Take one good look at Eris and tell me that you saved her!” What if she’s right? What if this is the only way?
‘I saved Eris from certain death, when your own rebels wrote her off. Did you know that she was thankful for our rescue?’ Epsilon takes on a sympathetic tone, as if she actually cared for Eris. Gods, what if she does?
‘I can save Juniper, just as I saved Eris. She’ll be more herself than ever. That’s what you want, is it not?’ 
“… It is.” Laila’s out of anger, she’s stuck coming up with another solution. That’s the thing: she and June are too stubborn to just walk away. “What about me, though?” There is no solution that makes sense.
‘Hm, I do so wonder.’ 
Epsilon is fucking with her. Wanting Laila to fucking beg for what? Salvation? She refuses to beg. Never fucking again.
“I don’t know what you want, but—”
‘I will save Juniper. As for you? Well, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?’ The transmission cuts out, leaving Laila staring at the blank screen. She’ll save June, so that when this is all over they can finally be together.

***

Present Day: Location Classified - Handler Iota’s Office.
Laila Praxian is not a monster.
Not yet anyway.
In truth, it’s been a month since she first tasted power, since everything changed. And since then, she’s been dealing with her own failings. First it was herself; she was weak, insecure, a fucking rebel playing dress-up. Then, it came time to deal with Juniper: her greatest failing of all. Every time Juniper is hooked up for conditioning, a part of Laila dies, burned away by her own hand. 
She tells herself its necessary; after all, Project Guard Dog requires both handler and hound to be better. Every little failure and setback caused by them both has been worth it. Because Laila is starting to actually recognize her place in the world: She stands above the dogs.
Oh, she certainly realized that early on, but she didn’t believe it until recently. It wasn’t just using the leash, nor was it seeing Juniper in that pitiful state: It was Laila recognizing the advice given to her. She was hiding, she was playing dress-up.
No more.
After all, what good is Handler Iota, if she can’t act like a handler? This is what Epsilon has been teaching her; it just took Laila having to be confronted with the truth to realize that. Admittedly, she’s still struggled heavily with her own conscience. But every time she runs a hand across the scar on her cheek, it’s a reminder that hesitation gets you killed.
She could spend the entire day reminding herself of that lesson, but unfortunately duty calls. Today is a very important and quite frankly stressful day. Monthly hound evaluations have come and Epsilon wants her to lead it. Laila’s sat in on them, but to this point has to yet to participate as anything but an observer; until today. She’s spent the last month working on Project Guard Dog and in turn, the Kérberos plan.
Meetings quite frankly disrupt her entire routine. Wake up at 0630, shower at 0640, workout in the pilot’s gym from 0700 until 0900; focuses her mind, helps her to stay sharp; then a second shower at 0915. She skips breakfast, choosing instead to have a cup of coffee whilst dealing with paperwork. Things run smoothly here with two handlers, but Laila’s routine is thrown out of whack with evaluations. No time for a workout today, need to ensure the final documentation has been dealt with.
Laila fights back a sigh, typing away on her terminal. Gods, it’s already past 1300 hours, she’s been extensively detailing every last inch of Project Guard Dog. Alpha will be in attendance this time, so it’s best to make a good impression. Still unsure of what to make of her, but one thing is certain: Epsilon involved her in whatever scheme She cooked up.
That chance meeting with Alpha? Dripfed information on Kione Monax? That entire fight against Monax? Never mind all of the research notes from Epsilon detailing various alleged failed projects. Too many variables for this to be simple happenstance.
No, She is involved in all of this, but Laila still is unsure as to how. That’s the thing, she’s got all of the pieces to this puzzle, but is struggling to fit them together. Suppose this means that she’s still missing a crucial one.
Laila sighs, finally giving into that urge and leans back in her chair. Project Guard Dog has led to many a sleepless night, but it’s worth it. Juniper is responding positively to the changes, it’s just a matter of time before they can enter the second phase. That however is not the cause of the insomnia.
The work of a handler is never done, after all.
Ah, but it doesn’t matter right now, a 1330 meeting awaits, and it’s already 1315. A quick tap of the keys sends the relevant data along to Laila’s tablet. With that out of the way, she stands, stretching her aching muscles. Gods, it’s a good thing today was supposed to be a rest day, because she’s sore.
As the door opens into the kennel halls, Juniper stands there at attention awaiting her. Firm detail in her posture, a shining example of what attention is supposed to be. Shame she’s still only got the one arm, but there’s reason for it and everything else being done. Twisting their connection; it’s the only way that Project Guard Dog can succeed. 
“At ease,” Laila commands in a stern tone.
Juniper relaxes her posture, offering a smile beneath her muzzle in return. “Good afternoon, Sir.”
Laila clips a chain leash onto the hound’s collar, offering a loving smile in return. “Remember June, when it’s just us, you can use my name. I allow it.”
“R, right, Sir—Lails, I’m sorry. I—I forgot. My head’s been so foggy lately that it’s hard to remember the little things.” And once more, a part of Laila dies. As with all things, the fog is natural.
Laila caresses her wife’s face with a gloved hand, staring longingly into those dull hazel eyes that she fell in love with, still falls in love with. “It’s okay Junebug, I’ll remember for you. After all, I’m the brains, aren’t I?”
“You are, Lails. I’m alive because of your brains.” Juniper’s voice is warm, almost nostalgic, but like every thing else, it’s fake. A product of conditioning. Some day soon though, that warmth will be real. And Juniper will be thankful.
Thus begins their walk through this twisted asylum. It gives Laila a brief moment to simply exist with Juniper. Though, they now are opposites, they’re still in love. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?
Of course it is.
Like quite a few of the doors here, the conference room’s is faux wooden. Unlike the others, there is no biometric scanner, just a handle. Four gray paneled walls, with an Imperial Eagle in white painted on the left wall, greet the pair upon entry. Carpeted floors, as opposed to the linoleum of the kennels. In the center of the room sits a rectangular wooden table, polished to the point of being able to see a reflection in it. White pleather chairs sit tucked against the table
“Punctual as ever, Iota.” Epsilon is seated not at the head of the table today, but to the right. Seems She wasn’t lying about Laila leading the meeting. Behind Her, Eris stands at attention, probably not even currently conscious.
Laila unclips the chain leash, placing it neatly back into her coat. “Apologies, I was going over final details on my reports.” Laila takes her seat at the head of the table, directing Juniper to kneel next to her. Still two minutes to spare according to the clock on the wall. Punctuality is as always, a virtue. “So, are we ready then?” 
“Indeed, I trust you are ready? I’ve chosen you to lead for a reason.” Epsilon’s tone is as cold and emotionless as ever. Some things never change, do they?
“As ready as I can be.”
Laila reaches underneath the desk, pressing a button.
 A holographic display flickers to life and one by one, images of each handler comes into existence. Each one takes a similar posture, sitting up straight, arms resting carefully on their own chairs; save for one of them—Kione Monax. She sits relaxed in the far right seat, legs up on the table, arrogant smirk on her face. At the far end of the table, one final hologram appears; they all stand to salute. Just as in Remus, Handler Alpha is an imposing presence. Possibly even more imposing, if that were possible. She stands tall, wearing a stern expression, giving each handler a passing glance, only for her ire to fall on Monax with a look of silent disdain. Silently, they all sit once more. “My, Epsilon is having you lead your section today, Iota?”
Alpha is essentially the shining example of what a Handler is meant to be. Stern, cold, capable of killing a man with only a look. And gods, that’s quite evident with a subtle glance across the room. Each one shares a similar look, but the curiosity is oh so evident on their faces.
A sharp predatory grin materializes across Epsilon’s face. “I am merely here to observe today. My own work is already well known.” 
“Well, well, the rebel herself. Please, regal us with your tales of how you singlehandedly brought the Empire to its knees,” Beta, an Asian woman, seated to the middle right, laughs. Her accent is posh, probably from the home territories; it’s obviously just for show. Sounds more like a mix of upper and lower class accents.
Laila’s heard stories about her; all flattering she supposes. “Beta, right?” Her gaze narrows onto the hologram. “A girl never kisses and tells about her war stories. I’m sure you’re the same way, Beta.”
Never show weakness to these jackals, or they will most certainly pounce on it. Epsilon is no exception, despite taking the role of the teacher. Though Laila has confided in Her, it is strictly in matters relating to Project Guard Dog; or that’s how She phrases it.
Beta’s gaze snaps sharply onto Laila. “I’ve read your reports, you’re married to your hound, how do you—” Oh, Beta, you poor deluded bitch.
“Now, now,” Laila tuts. “I fully admit that Juniper is my wife; but she is also my hound. I don’t believe Alpha called this meeting over such a trivial matter. But if you’re insistent on delving into such matters, I’m certain we can discuss this further at a later date.” Monax is still leaning back, boots on table, paying no mind to the ongoing conversation.
What a coincidence then that the scar on Laila’s cheek itches.
Alpha gestures, stopping Beta from further escalating. “Iota is correct, Beta. I suggest you speak to Epsilon if you have concerns. Though, I will say, I am interested to know what you learned from the training exercise.” Alpha sits at the far end; the true head of the table. Her fingers intertwined, resting over her mouth; quite the striking pose. “I trust it was not simply an excuse to go wild.”
A nod. “I hesitated. Underestimated my enemy and as a result? Well—” Laila turns her head, allowing the new scar to be seen. “This failure led to my creation of Project Guard Dog.” 
Alpha shows no visible reaction, not even a hint of curiosity. “Go on?”
Another nod. Laila reaches under the table, petting Juniper’s hair. “I’d like to start on the basis of a simple question: ‘What is love?’”
“Is this a joke?” Zeta, pale tan skin, blonde hair in an intricate braid, seated to the left of Alpha, chimes in full of curiosity. “Love?”
“Love is the result of oxytocin, also known as the love hormone, it’s responsible for the creation for feelings of contentment, calmness, and even security. The most base reaction of any human being is love. We’ve all felt it at some point, I’m certain.” A wry smirk comes across Laila’s face.
Nothing. No response. Every single one of them is silent, stunned by the presentation, or perhaps simply indifferent to it all.
Good, just how they should be.
“When someone falls in love, it essentially rewires their brain. The more time you spend with someone you love, the more oxytocin your brain will produce. Love often triggers the very first psychotic episode within a person.” She continues to idly pet Juniper, who is far too out of it to actually pay much attention. Sure, she’s listening, but not understanding a word. Good; she shouldn’t have to listen to her beloved wife monologue about essentially killing her. 
“I’m assuming this is more than simply living some fantasy married life?” Sigma, white skinned, shoulder-length carbon black hair, sits to Laila’s left; interesting. “Project Dyad has used similar tactics, but I am curious as to where this is going.”
Monax looks bored, boots still up on the table; Beta is disdainful, probably wondering what makes Laila so special. Alpha on the other hand? Curious. She hides it well, but it’s so clear that this has piqued her curiosity.
“Long-term effects of love are complex and tend to differn but through various studies conducted one thing is clear: Love can drive you to insane actions. For instance, a wild dog is attacking your beloved, leading you to attacking the dog.” Funny, once upon a time, Laila would have been disgusted by this. No more. “This is Project Guard Dog.” A flick of the fingers sends the relevant information across the table.
“Intriguing,” Alpha says. “And you’ve done this all within a month?”
Laila chuckles lightly, shaking her head. “Please, I can’t take full credit for this. This is based on research conducted by Epsilon over the years. As well as using data taken from Upsilon’s Bloodhound, and Sigma’s Dyad.”
Upsilon, short onyx black hair, pale white skin, seated at the middle left, furrows her brow. “Expand?”
“With pleasure.” Laila offers her fellow handlers a warm smile. “The end goal of Project Guard Dog is increase dependence when not in the field.”
“And in the field?” Monax finally speaks, sitting up straight at last.
“Simple.” A swipe on the tablet sends along more data. “I’m creating a hound that is more deadly and efficient than a normal pilot; more akin to a wild beast, if you will.” Laila reaches down once more, petting her love. “Currently we are still in phase one, which is reinforcing that connection. Twisting it deeper, until Juniper’s very reason for existence is me.”
A twisted smile sets across Laila’s expression. “Isn’t that right, Junebug?”
“Sir, yes, Sir!” Juniper stands, responding without even thinking about it. Because she isn’t supposed to think about it. “I love you, Sir!” 
“Good girl, now sit,” Laila whispers, motioning for the hound to kneel once more. “Ahem, as I was saying, it’s to reinforce the connection and in turn create a dependence. We’re still in the very early stages on it, but Epsilon is confident that we should progress onto phase two within the next month or so.” 
“You’re that confident?” Alpha questions, and Laila nods in response. “My, perhaps Epsilon was correct to choose you. Though, I must ask: How can you be so sure that you will succeed? You were so confident in your abilities when I proposed the combat exercise, and we’ve both seen how that went.”
Monax cracks a grin, silently laughing; and just like that, the scars on Laila’s knuckles itch. Fancy that.
“I’m confident for a reason,” Laila begins. “I fully recognize that my tenure as a handler has been short. My inexperience may be seen as a shortcoming here, but I have been with Juniper for over three years, I know just what strings to pull.” The words burn her throat; she hates herself for everything she’s doing. There’s just one problem: she loves doing it. Indulging in pure disgusting selfishness feels so divine that she can’t stop herself. The knowledge that all of this is wrong, that she shouldn’t love it, only makes it more delicious. 
And Juniper is better now, happier. They both are. If Laila were to ask right now, her Junebug would say the same. Laila’s made sure of that.
“Hm, I do have another concern however: This Kérberos Plan you’ve submitted, what is it exactly?” Alpha’s quite the curious one, lovely.
Laila stands, pacing around the room with her hands behind her back. “Kérberos is personal pet project I’ve been working on since I was introduced to the Canis defects. Early attempt at the neural implant used in our hounds today.” 
 Alpha chuckles darkly. “Quite interesting I must say. Please, do go on.”
“It got me to thinking, what if the problem were solved? Obviously the neural implants have been solved.” Laila’s gaze turns to Eris, the prime example of a neural implant. Hers was blocky, and quite frankly dangerous. Was. Recent upgrades have replaced it with the now-standard model. “What I’m looking at is more complex, the integration protocols themselves. How to effectively create a mindless beast that needs only the basic care to function. The hounds have their purpose, but are an expensive and highly versatile tool; when chaos and terror are needed they are often overkill. The Mutts are tailor made for such an endeavor, and by being disposable their use cases increase several-fold.”
“If I may—” Zeta interjects. “I’m looking over your data, and you’ve yet to reach production? You seem to understand the data, and have been consulting on upgrades to the neural systems your hounds use. So, why have you not been able to move forward on this?”
Beginning to like Zeta, hah. “Excellent question Zeta.” Laila’s pacing ends behind Alpha’s hologram. “It’s a complex issue. We’ve certainly had a breakthrough or two, but we run into the same problem Alpha had: the mutts forget themselves.”
“And so your solution is?” Zeta responds.
“There is no solution as of yet,” Laila admits. “This is a long-term project, unlike Guard Dog which is moving forward as of now; Kérberos is not yet ready for practical application.” Something is missing, a variable she can’t quite account for. Epsilon has overseen the trials, offered a few solutions, but nothing has come to fruition quite yet.
Just how in the fuck did She keep those mutts under control, the few times they sortied? Makes no damned sense. Ugh, more homework for later.
And so the meeting continues on.
Laila lets out a long drawn sigh once the projections have all ended. “Gods, that was quite the headache.”
Epsilon laughs coldly, nodding in agreement. “Ah, but you did so well. Perhaps I’ll have you lead them in the future as well.”

***

“Again.”
Laila paces around the sparring hounds. Part of Project Guard Dog requires Juniper to be sharper, far more agile. As such, the hounds are sparring. Juniper with her one arm, Eris with both. 
Both hounds reset their stances. Eris spreads her knees perpendicular, keeping both arms close to her body. Whilst Juniper takes a more aggressive stance, standing sideways with her only arm raised in defense. Heavy breaths leave their weary and sweat drenched bodies.
“Begin.”
Juniper throws a turning kick, only for Eris to catch it, tossing aside her attacker’s leg. Juniper stumbles, but catches herself, transitioning to a knee attack that Eris avoids. Juniper’s fighting style used to rely exclusively on strikes, but now she’s forced to use her legs far more. Thus far she’s yet to impress.
Case in point, Juniper lands a knee strike onto Eris’ upper body. The only problem is that it is sloppy, Eris easily catches the knee, throwing Juniper back onto the mat. She immediately jumps to her feet, throwing a low right hook onto Eris’ stomach which is seen through before it lands.
Juniper has been unimpressive thus far. Honestly, this is her worst showing yet. Eris on the other hand has shown progress, she’s been paying attention and it shows. Mm, looks like it’s time to twist the knife then.
Throwing a jab, Eris turns her body, stepping through to throw a cross onto a guarding Juniper. Then, without missing a beat, Juniper is on the ground, taped fists striking her body with full force behind them. “Point to Eris.”
“Juniper.” Laila stares down at her hound. “Tell me: What did you do wrong?” She doesn’t offer a hand, nor does she do more than slowly pace around the mats. 
“Sir—” Juniper slowly rises to her feet, running a sweaty hand through her dirty blonde hair. The torn patches have begun to regrow, though it’s still quite uneven; she’ll be allowed to do what she likes with it as long as she meets expectations. “I was sloppy. Misread Eris’ take down as a strike, and was therefore caught off guard.” 
“Good girl,” her tone is cold, unemotional, when placing a hand on her hound’s armless shoulder. “If you can beat Eris, I’ll give you a reward. Some one on one time, just us; how’s that sound?”
Juniper perks up, smiling bright. “You mean that, Lails!?” 
“Of course I do, Junebug.” Laila ruffles her hair, chuckling softly. “After all, I love you.” 
“Eris,” her tone is much warmer, to sow that little hint of jealously. “Do your best to impress me, okay? I’ll ensure Epsilon gives you Her undivided attention.” 
The knife has been twisted deeper, ensuring a lovely bout. After all, Laila is nothing if not a manipulative bitch. Wasn’t always this way, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it.
“Yes, Sir!” Eris’ voice is full of such positivity, reminds Laila of back when the three of them were Wardogs. Hah, the good old days, or some inane musing like that. 
The hounds square up, assuming their stances once more. She paces around them, inspecting their forms. “Eris, keep your elbows tucked.” Juniper’s form is sloppy as well, but she makes no note of that. After all, if she wants the reward, she’ll figure it out.
“Eris, ready?” 
“Sir.” Eris nods.
“Juniper?” 
“Yes, Sir,” Juniper responds.
“Begin.” Laila leans back against the wall, folding her arms against her stomach.
Juniper and Eris start slow, neither goes for an immediate move, choosing instead to circle each other. A definite improvement, but let’s see if either of them have what it takes. Eris is first, leading with her left arm to throw a hook at Juniper’s chest.
As expected, Juniper ducks low, evading the strike. Eris backs off, giving Juniper room to  deliver a high kick to Eris’ stomach. She fight back a cough, but remains on her feet. Impressive; perhaps they’re learning something.
Eris fights back with a left cross, that’s blocked by Juniper’s right arm. Eris throws a right side kick only for her to be tossed to the side. Spinning to her hands and flipping backwards, she attempts to throw a series of low punches onto Juniper, only for a knee to slam into her face. 
The hounds lock up, Juniper delivering knee after knee onto Eris’ sides. When Juniper breaks free of the grapple, another series of punches strikes Eris’ face. Eris responds with a high kick, but there seems to be no effect.
That’s right, you want my love, don’t you?
Back and forth they fight, neither able to deliver the decisive blow. Though constantly on the defensive, Eris is managing to deal serious strikes through Juniper’s weak guard. Her weakness is on full display. It’s evident when she attacks, that she unconsciously forgets that she’s missing an arm. Her knees are well-timed, even the kicks seem effective, but her fighting style still relies far too heavily on the arms.
It’s not until Juniper overextends and Eris pulls her into an arm lock, that the fight finally progresses. Juniper curls her smaller frame against the taller one’s shoulders, in an attempt to take her down. Not enough. Eris breaks the hold, lifting Juniper, into what should be a slam KO.
Come on June, where’s that spark? Don’t you want my love?
Just as she’s slammed down, Juniper manages to plant a firm grip onto the ground stopping the attempt at a KO. A reversal, how intriguing; so she has been paying attention then. Hm.
A solid, desperate kick hits Eris in the face, stunning her for a brief moment. Unsatisfied with just one kick, Juniper responds with another kick, and another, and another, and another, at whatever she can hit, until Eris topples back-first onto the mat, throughly defeated. “Point Juniper. Session over.”
Juniper is still going at it, ruthlessly attacking a prone Eris, unsatisfied with the session’s outcome. Grunting, refusing to quit, far too lost in bloodlust and jealousy to have even noticed that Eris can’t keep up with the barrage of punches. The only thing she’s capable of doing now is curling up to protect herself, but even that isn’t enough; because Juniper only continues punching, scratching, kicking, even coming close to biting flesh. Gods, it’s so beautiful; Project Guard Dog may just have its merits after all. “Juniper: Heel,” Laila at last issues the order, choosing to spare Eris from further punishment.
You’ve played your part perfectly, Eris.
“I’m sorry, Sir, but I—”
Laila shushes her hound with a gloved finger. “No apologies. What did I tell you?’
“Sir, you wanted me to beat Eris,” Juniper responds, kneeling at her beloved’s feet. 
“And you did; Good Girl. You see? This is why I love you, Junebug. You followed my order and now? I believe you’ve earned a reward.” But what to reward her with? Oh, Laila knows exactly. “How would you like to give me a massage, love? Just the two of us.”
She’ll need to mark this test down as successful, Project Guard Dog has its merits. Phase two may not be as far away as she thought, if these results are anything to speak of. All the relevant data has been collected, it’s just a matter of sifting through it later. If she’s correct, the timetable on phase two’s initiation should be met by week’s end.
“Eris, pick yourself up, I’ll have the vet look over your wounds. You’ve shown progress, I’m impressed. I’ll see to it that Handler Epsilon rewards you for your part,” warmth radiates from Laila’s voice; a false warmth, but still warmth.
“Y, Yes, Sir,” Eris responds, heaving her wounded body from the mat. Her face is bloody, while her body is full of bruises. Lovely. “T-Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.” Laila turns her focus back to Juniper. “You did good, love. I’m going to have a relaxing bath, and I want you to clean yourself up. And then?” Laila smiles lovingly, lifting her beloved’s chin. “You get to give me a massage. I’ve also got a pair of boots that I just know you’ll be happy to shine, isn’t that right dear?”
“I’d love that, thank you so much, Sir!” 

***

Laila relaxes against the porcelain bathtub, sighing as the warm water melts away her stress. Project Guard Dog, Kérberos, all of it can be pushed aside for later. Right now, she can simply relax. She dismissed Juniper to have a shower before anything, because Laila doesn’t want a sweaty, dirty and probably bloody hand massaging her.
A soft sigh leaves her lips. Can’t remember the last time she took a bath, probably when she was a kid. Crazy thing is, there’s no water rationing. She can take as long of a bath as she wants without having to worry about conserving it. Easily one of her favorite perks.
And the scent of artificial lavender in here? Perfection. Gods, this is exactly what she needed after a long day of work. Meetings are so tiresome, and dealing with Beta is a headache in and of itself. Still better than Monax, but that’s not exactly saying much.
White tiled floors, (fake) white granite walls, which hide the actual concrete walls, gods, it’s so lovely in here. Modeled exactly how Laila wanted for a private bath. It’s connected to her quarters with a small door, effectively serving as her bathroom; one of the first requests she had after being named Iota. This is truly the life. Sure, she sold her soul, but you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet. 
It’s funny, she never found herself particularly craving power. As a rebel, she fought for the greater good, to drive out the Empire, all that preachy bullshit. Juniper was her equal, despite the difference in rank. 
Now?
Gods, no.
Laila craves the power that comes from commanding her beloved to spill blood. Oh, but she hasn’t had many opportunities yet. What a shame, but that’ll be fixed in due time. And then? They’ll be truly happy.
Relaxing into the warm embrace of the bathwater, she sinks back, letting it soak ever so deeper, washing away her stress. It’s been such a long day and now that she can simply relax, she may never leave the bath again. Monster or not, she’s earned this soak.
Soon after she settles in, almost falling asleep a few times, a knock at the door brings her back to attention; Juniper. “Enter.” With the command given, she opens the door, walking through and standing at attention. For Laila’s part, a warm expression spreads across her face.  What way to spend an intimate moment with her than a massage?
“Sorry I took so long, Lails,” Juniper apologizes, bowing her head. “Hard to get fully clean with just the one arm, you know? Phantom pain keeps messing with my head.”
Laila directs her hound with an upturned palm. “You’re fine, love.” June’s nervous, but it’s hard to blame her. The only private time they’ve had since initiating Project Guard Dog has been a few moments in Laila’s office. Once they enter phase three, she can start allowing June to sleep in the same bed as her again. 
By then, Laila will have hollowed herself out.
Juniper stands next to the tub for a moment, unsure of what to do. Or more than likely she’s stuck thinking about whatever. “Something on your mind, love?” The question is casual, sounding more like how things used to be.
“S—Lails, can I ask? … What is Project Guard Dog?” She shifts uncomfortably, not making direct eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the floor. “You kept mentioning that and—”
Laila directs Juniper down onto her knees, shushing her with a finger to the silver bars of her muzzle. “It’s a little something I’ve been working on. Since we failed during that combat exercise, I’ve been left wondering: How do I improve?”
The hound tilts her head, unsure as how to answer, choosing instead to remain silent. 
“Well, firstly, I have to improve you, darling,” it’s a loving response, despite the horrible implications layered in it. Laila closes her eyes, chin resting against the porcelain tub. “Why don’t you start the massage, and I’ll tell you?”
“Of course, love,” June’s voice grows warmer, eager as always to please. The bright bathroom lights are dimmed, the tub faucet closed. It’s so very quiet in here now, no stressors to deal with. Just a massage.
The moment that eager hand of hers finds its way onto Laila’s back, she quietly groans, relaxing into the touch. “Project Guard Dog is meant to improve us both. You need a handler who isn’t afraid to use you in the field.” Oh gods, her back is so full of knots, just the way Juniper’s hand helps to release them makes it all worth it. “Whereas I need a hound who is capable in and out of the field.”
“Does this mean I’ll stop failing you, Laila?” Juniper’s question is so innocent and sweet, just like her in so many aspects. 
“Yeah. We’ll stop failing each other, and be better for it.” Laila smiles lovingly. “Once we enter phase two, it’ll all start making sense, I promise. I’ll ensure you’ve got a sturdier arm too. First things first, though, you need to—Gods, Junebug, you’re just ripping that stress away. Fuck, is this really your first time giving a massage?”
June giggles like a school girl; it’s enough to melt Laila’s heart. “No, silly. I used to give them to you back in the day. You probably just forgot, because you’re busy, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Laila breathes out a reply. “You’re right about that, I am busy. Not just with the project, but with work in general. Never thought I’d have so much work after selling my soul.” She laughs cheerfully, turning to blow her wife a kiss. “Soon though? I’m going to make it a point to have more us time, okay?” 
“Okay.” Juniper nods, her fingers moving throughout Laila’s back muscles. “Your back is just so full of stress Lails, no wonder you wanted me to give you a massage.”
Laila groans out a response, while those fingers work their way deeper into her stiff muscles. “That’s the stuff June, gods, you’ve got magic fingers. Maybe I should authorize the arm now, you could give a proper massage then.”
“You don’t need to do that, Lails. After all, I’m on the shelf, right? I need to be better for you. I don’t fully understand everything you’re doing for me, but I, I have no choice but to accept it, right?” Juniper’s right, more right than she may ever realize. Gods, she’s come such a long way from the broken down mess. “You’re my Handler, but more importantly: you’re my wife. I don’t want to keep failing you!”
“Exactly.” Laila nods. “And don’t worry about Ixion Stryx, okay? I know you’re probably anxious about your baby not being on site, but Iris Corporation is handling its overhaul.” Iris, the same bastards responsible for the Belos, and Aspis. Their machines killed so many former friends. Hah, but who cares? “Until then—”Another groan leaves her lips. “Fuck, just like that, Junebug. You just hit the sweet spot.” Everything is perfect now.
Or that’s what she’d love to say. Because as the massage continues, a loud beeping comes from her tablet in the other room. Fucking hell. “June, grab that for me, would you?” 
“Sir.” 
Laila closes her eyes again, resting her chin onto her arm. The water is so very warm and her stress has just begun to melt away. Hopefully it’s just one of the vets wanting to discuss work, so that it can be put off until later. As much as she wants to drift off, she instead forces her eyes open, staring at Juniper. “What’s it say, love?”
“Urgent dispatch from high command, Sir.”
Ugh, fucking hell, fine; Laila motions for her to continue.
“Heavy fighting has broken out in Druzi, resulting in rebel forces capturing a rare earth mine. Command wants this dealt with quietly and swiftly, Sir.” Quietly and swiftly? Hah, sure, sure.
“Juniper,” she commands. “Fetch me a towel, please.” 
“Sir.”
Laila loudly sighs, stepping out the bath, her nude form on full display. But there is no wolf whistle from Juniper, no signs of attraction besides that dull smile. She knows that now isn’t the time. Laila grabs a towel to cover herself and to wrap up her wet hair. Then without pause she grabs her headset, pressing her wet thumb against it. “Get me Epsilon.”
There’s a ten-second delay between connection and acknowledgment. Security purposes or whatever. ‘Transferring now, sir.’
‘Epsilon here.’ 
“I’m assuming you’ve been briefed on Druzi?” Pointless to ask, but still.
‘Correct. I’ll authorize Eris’ deployment.’
“All I needed, thank you.” Laila clicks at the headset. “Control, this is Iota, prep Kérberos squad for launch, as well as a contingent of Belos. Wheels up in forty-five.” Closing the comm link, she ushers Juniper into a hug. “I’m sorry love, looks like duty calls. Wish you could come, but you’ve got one working arm and no mech. I’ll let you shine my boots later, okay?”
“Okay.” Laila can feel Juniper’s heartbeat when they hug. It’s beating fast, she’s worried, probably anxious. “I love you, Laila Praxian. Stay safe out there, please?” Even now, June’s just a little worried, some things conditioning can’t break.
Good.
When Laila breaks the hug, she takes a moment to stare into those dull hazel eyes. “I love you too, Juniper Sladek. Don’t worry, I’ll have Eris protecting me.” And then, she plants a kiss on June’s forehead, ruffling that dirty blonde hair. “Prep my uniform and flight suit.”
“Yes, Sir.”