It’s pitch black in here, the floor is freezing cold, with her pained breathing being the only thing Juniper can hear. It’s warm, cloying, makes her think that there’s something on her face. There’s a stench that can only be described as stinging her nostrils; possibly bleach? She doesn’t remember how she got here, let alone where she is. Only that it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

There is nothing in her field of view, only a pure black nothingness as far as the eye can see. Her consciousness is foggy, leaving her to search the darkness for answers on where she is. Everything about this room reminds her of—No, never that place.

She’s free, right?

Surely she would remember being captured.

Unless of course, their supposed freedom was a lie and She called Her hounds home. The thought of that alone is enough to send her into a panic attack. Life was improving and she was beginning to feel more like herself again. That was a lie, wasn’t it?

Of course it was. Juniper has always been broken and scared. The person she claimed to be was but a facade to hide the pain behind.

With another strained breath, she realizes that there is indeed something on her face: A muzzle. She’s wearing a muzzle. Her muzzle; the one that she’s kept buried deep in her locker. It’s sweet siren call has gone silent, as it sits on her face. 

Desperately clawing at the muzzle in an attempt to remove it, her nails cannot even begin to scratch at the leather straps. The only sound in this quiet room is the desperate skritching of nails on leather that refuses to be scratched. Hot tears stream down her face, mixing with the blood gushing from her fingertips. With every attempt more and more blood drips from the tips of her fingers, staining her face with bits of blood and leather.

Why does it refuse to come off?

Her scratching is getting slower, it’s impossible to keep going when her fingertips sting and the tears stain her vision. No matter how much she fights it, she’s been reduced to a useless dog once more. Juniper failed.

Reduced to grabbing at the straps in an attempt to remove them, only leads to the same outcome: More pain, more suffering. Every attempt ends the same, with a bloodied mutt collapsing, begging for death.

It’s just as she’s finally given up on trying that the sound of boots clicking against the concrete startle her back to her senses. Fear courses through her body, making one final desperate attempt to remove it, scratching and pulling, yet it still does not budge. She’s been reduced to sobbing, realizing just how hopeless it has become.

With every tug of the muzzle, the sound grows closer and she’s left hoping for escape. But just as with the previous attempts, she’s left too weak to even claw at the straps anymore. “What an insolent mutt, attempting to remove your muzzle without authorization.”

There is not a hint of emotion in that voice, just a painful chill to it.

“GET IT OFF! PLEASE GET IT OFF OF ME!” Juniper cries out,

A hand reaches down, stroking her hair. “Now why would I do that? This muzzle is for your protection.”

She…She recognizes this voice: Handler.

No, no, no, no, no.

Please, gods, anyone but her.

“I…I…I…”

A soft chuckle leaves Her lips, cupping the insolent mutt’s chin. “I can make the pain go away.”

“P-Please…” Is all Juniper can say in response. Her hands hopelessly reach for the muzzle again, but instead of attempting to remove it, they fall to her side; limp and lifeless.

“Oh Captain Sladek, I was beginning to worry that you’d forgotten me. Yet here you are, at my feet, begging me to take away the pain.” When She stares into the broken pilot’s eyes, there is no response, no light to them. Handler won.

The insolent mutt wants desperately to resist Her, but its body knows better. Disobedience comes with a price, one that has been ingrained into it. Rather than fighting, it stays mute, bowing its head in reverence towards its Master.

There is no Juniper Sladek anymore,

“Look at you, broken, lifeless, like a good dog. I knew I would enjoy snuffling out that delicious spark of rebellion. You were such a wonderful challenge.” Every word from Her is venomous, stinging the mutt beneath Her. “Come now, Captain, you clearly have much to say to me. So why don’t you speak?”

“Yes, Handler.” It’s an automatic response, one that hurts so damned much to repeat.

She smirks, petting Her hound with a gloved hand. “My, my, such a good dog. Remembering her place beneath me. As a reward, I believe I’ll allow you to speak. Come, Captain, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Despite the numerous questions it has, there is only one that truly matters: “…Who is ‘Subject Iota’?” It mutters, never meeting Her gaze. A pathetic mutt such as this one could not dare to look upon its Master. Not after its rebellion.

Handler chuckles, stroking Her hound’s hair once more. “You already know this, don’t you?” A snap of Her fingers, leads to a burst of light encompassing the otherwise dark room. From out of the light steps a pilot clad in a green jumpsuit.

Their hair is red like fire, covering their left eye. Can it be? Laila? Except she’s…broken, wearing a muzzle, with a defeated look in her eye. Almost absentmindedly she takes her place at Handler’s side, bowing her head in reverence. There is no acknowledgment of her partner cowering on the ground, she only stares into the nothingness, as though she were dreaming.

No, No, No, No, No. This has to be a dream—a fucking nightmare, none of this is real. It—It can’t be. Please, gods, no, let it be literally anyone else.

Handler reaches over, petting the hound kneeling next to Her. “Mm, come now Juniper. Don’t be so surprised, after all, this is what she desired. You couldn’t save her, because you couldn’t even save yourself. Isn’t that right, mutt?”

“Yes, Sir, Handler.” Laila’s voice quietly says.

Handler smiles unnervingly. “Come, greet your wife, Juniper.” The muzzles fall free to the ground, both hounds staring lovingly at the other. Laila wastes no time in pinning her partner to the ground, giving a kiss that can only be described as love. Pure, passionate love.

When the broken pilot closes its eyes to savor the sweet taste, that it has longed to feel again, an important realization crosses its mind: There is no sweetness to these lips. Bitter, tasteless, like powder mixed with smoke. It sends the mutt into a coughing fit, when it cannot get the taste of this off of its tongue.

Ashes. It’s She’s coughing up ashes.

“You’re…you’re not…real.” Juniper mutters through pained breaths.

As Laila turns to ash, Juniper is left reeling from the pain of losing her yet again. “Very astute, Juniper. Congratulations on figuring out that this is a dream. However, I do have a question for you: Why do you think I continue to show up within your dreams?”

“Because, you’re what I fear most.“

Handler smirks, leaning over. “No, my dear. I am what you desire most, and that is your greatest fear.”

It all makes sense now. Handler must be her subconscious projecting the other side of Juniper: The Hound.

“So basically, you’re here because I’m scared of myself? Yeah, no shit.” Juniper glares at Her.

Laughter, all she can hear is laughter coming from Handler. “Ahh, Juniper, ever the rebellious one, aren’t you?” She strokes the pilot’s cheek with a gloved hand. “Tell me something Captain. Who are you?”

Juniper could kill Her right now, if She were actually here. “I must be going insane to question who I am. I’m Juniper Sladek.”

“Oh, Juniper, we both know that isn’t what I mean.” Handler shakes Her head never breaking eye contact. “Allow me to rephrase the question: What are you?”

“I’m human.” Juniper says it plainly, because it’s true, isn’t it? She went to hell and died, only to be reborn.

“Are you truly human if you enjoy such animalistic joy in killing?”

When she took down two enemy mechs in only seconds, there was that animalistic urge to howl. And then, when she orgasmed after taking down Ares, that same need drove her to almost kill Eris. It felt incredible.

“Y-You…You broke me!” Juniper spits out, while the realization begins to set in. She isn’t human.

Handler laughs again, cracking a haunting grin. “You were already broken. No, what I did was offer you a way to be fixed.”

That’s right…Juniper thinks back to her final mission with her partner. She was in the grips of a panic attack, before being told to count backwards from ten. Except, that she still broke down when she was needed.

“And when you returned to Volterra, how did you cope with the stress of it all? Oh, of course, by hurting yourself because you had a flashback. Your lieutenant claimed she wanted to save you, but did she not instead damn you to a life of pain?”

“I…I…I…” Juniper can’t find the words, because She is right about everything.

Handler reaches out, stroking Her hound’s cheek. “And what of your wife? What if the truth is that she defected? But instead of becoming a broken animal like yourself, she’s become a Handler?”

It’s all too much for Juniper to bear any longer, she bursts into tears realizing just how broken she is. Handler offered her a way to be free of the guilt. Despite this, Juniper ran back to the rebels who would break her even more. Effectively spitting in Her face.

“So, I’ll ask you once more, Juniper: What are you?”

Human.

They sent her to hell, where they intended to break her. Except, she managed to escape before they could unleash the thing that had been created onto her allies. She chose to survive and escape back to the rebellion. No one else chose this for her!

So why can’t she bring herself to speak the truth? Is it because it’s not the truth?

Handler shattered her into millions of tiny pieces, leaving her no way to ever pick up the pieces alone. Except she isn’t alone. There’s another side to her, a feral and angry half that wants nothing more than to kill who they’re told to. She’s lived in fear of them since they were created.

This other half exists not just for that purpose though. It exists to give Juniper a fighting chance to find Laila and bring her home, so that they can unravel what happened, together. She’s lived in fear of them being unleashed by Her, but they never had a choice in the matter. So maybe it’s time that they get a choice?

Hound.

Hound helped her to survive, when she was far too scared of her own shadow to cope with reality. It’s because of them that she’s even still alive. It all makes sense to her now:

Hound is Juniper, because Juniper is Hound.

So then, what is she?

The answer comes naturally to Juniper.

She’s neither human nor hound.

No, she’s—“a survivor.”

She isn’t or or the other, she is both.

Despite the two sides being ever at odds, it’s because of Hound that she’s still standing.

She breaths slow and deep, staring at her hands. In an instance, she’s swallowed whole by the darkness, left to drown in her own fears. A train slams into the back of her head and the impact pushes her deeper within herself, breaking ever bone in her body at once, hundreds of thousands of syringes stabbing into her, replacing her innards with starlight. That same glowing green starlight that she’s come to fear, courses through her.

Juniper or some amalgamation of her, howls at the top of her lungs, clawing off her skin until nothing remains but the raw flesh beneath. Every last part of her fucking hurts, but she has been in pain for so damn long. This is nothing compared to the hell they were put through. Tortured, broken, made into nothing but an obedient killing machine.

No more.

She snarls, eyes burning with the flames of fury staring at the pretender. It’s so clear to her now what she has to do:

Break the Leash.

With an animalistic rage behind her, Juniper snaps her leash, howling even louder than before. No longer will they live in fear of a pretender, not as long as they’re together. They don’t obey her, because she has not earned it. Handler Epsilon lost the minute that she didn’t kill Juniper.

“What the fffffuck happened?” They say in unison, staring at their hands. “I feel…like myself, but not?”

All the amalgamation of the two halves can hear in response to their questioning is laughter; vicious mocking laughter. “Congratulations, Juniper. You’ve ‘broken’ your leash. Does it make you feel better about yourself? I must say, it was quite the show but—“

Juniper exhales sharply, staring at Epsilon. “Enough. I—We, aren’t scared of you anymore. You’re just a person, a weak-minded person who can’t control her own creations. You failed the minute that we ran.”

“Oh, Juniper, I do so love that spark of rebellion. I knew I made the correct decision in your capture.” Epsilon cups the amalgamation’s chin in her hands, staring into their hazel eyes. “I may only be your subconscious projecting, but I must say, that was entertaining.”

Juniper and Hound snarl at Epsilon, pushing her away. “You don’t control us—me, any longer. I’m…I’m free of your influence.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that. All in due time, my loyal hound.” Epsilon dissolves away into ashes, that creepy smirk never leaving her face.

Her body jolts awake, leaving her to spasm. Like missing a punch on the bag and landing face-first. Woken up in a cold sweat, Juniper leans over to check the time. Barely past four AM.

Mara’s still asleep next to her, looking as peaceful as ever.

“…Fuck.”

Juniper sighs, tugging off her tank top. Thanks to that nightmare, her body is soaked through with sweat. Her sports bra and panties cling tightly to her skin.

“I need a shower…” She mumbles quietly.

She slips out of bed and steps into the adjoining bathroom, throwing her clothes into the hamper. The cold bathroom tile sends up a shiver up her spine. She removes her dog tags, neatly wrapping the cord around the tag and setting it on the bathroom counter.

As she steps into the shower and turns the tap, hot water rains warmth down onto her face. She closes her eyes, letting the flowing water run against her skin. The droplets run down her face, onto her collarbone—now adorned with seven stars—, moving across her narrow shoulders and spreading down to her hips. It continues running down from her thighs to her feet, spiraling into the drain.

Gods, she’s tired of these nightmares haunting her.

Juniper leans back, relaxing into the water pouring against her skin, rinsing away the sweat and stress. After that fight against Aspis, she’s been dealing with the stressful aftermath. That entire mission was a set-up, Epsilon’s voice over comms confirmed it. Fuck, just thinking about it makes her want to hit something.

Eris fully shut-down, any attempt to speak to her was met with quiet muttering. Vera on the other hand, Juniper isn’t even sure what happened with her. Only that she’s been holed up in her quarters since. Despite wanting to hate her, no one deserves to deal with what the mercenary was put through.

It’ll be fine, there’s a bigger problem to deal with right now: That dream.

Supposedly, Juniper has “broken the leash”, but does that even mean?

Hound is Juniper and Juniper is Hound, yet she(they?) still retain a sense of self. It could just be a side effect of overriding the neural limiters, but that doesn’t…seem right? No, because she does feel different. It’s just difficult to quantify how she feels different.

The other half of her—Hound— has only inhabited her body for five months and has only slipped out a few times. And this whole time, Juniper has lived in fear of Hound taking control. But neither of them want total control, is what she’s beginning to realize.

Two halves of the same person, reunited at last, creating an amalgamation of Hound and Human. Hound was only ruthless and bloodthirsty, because Juniper was afraid. In actuality, Hound is just as scared as Juniper, except she had to be the stronger of the two.

Their memories are still foggy, it might take some time to remember exactly what happened in the few times Hound was let out. But one thing remains clear, why she ran:

Laila.

More specifically, her voice calling to Hound, pleading with them to run. It’s the most vivid memory that they have. As it obviously turns out, the two of them aren’t so different after all.

So, then there’s one question remaining. If Juniper is Hound, and Hound is Juniper: What is her name? JuniperHound? No, neither of them want that. While they may be an amalgamation of each other, it feels…wrong?

She leans back against the tiled wall, closing her eyes and letting the water run down her body. Names are hard, gods know how long it took her to name herself. So, why not stick with Juniper Sladek?

It makes it easier for them both that way.

The woman still known as Juniper Sladek turns around to let the water run down her backside. When the hot water touches the neural surgery scars, it makes her want to scream at the top of her lungs. Gods it hurts like nothing she’s ever experienced. Her head throbs, vision is blurry. But instead of giving in, she clenches her fists tight, letting the pain subside on its own.

Her surgery scars don’t usually hurt like this, but it seems to be a consequence of removing neural limiters in a moment of desperation. There are still lingering effects from that too, she has limited feeling in her left hand and random headaches. It was a stupid move—But it worked.

With one final washing of her face, Juniper turns off the water and steps out of the shower. She grabs a towel off the rack, drying her hair, before moving onto the rest of her body. Then, as she removes the fog from the mirror with her hand, she wears her dog tags again, letting them rest against her heart.

Maybe it really is time to stop chasing ghosts and live in the moment. There’s a cute pilot outside that bathroom door dead asleep, probably missing her captain’s presence. And for right now, isn’t that enough?

She opens the bathroom door, flipping off the light switch and letting the steam clear. In her closet is a fresh set of clothes; a black tank top and some fatigue pants. Her usual attire.

“Can’t sleep?” Mara says with a yawn, rubbing crust from her eyes.

Juniper shakes her head, sighing. “Saw…a lot of stuff again.” She says, sitting on the side of the bed, while she changes. “Just the usual nightmares, I guess.” It’s best not to tell her the truth, because she isn’t even sure what any of it meant.

Besides, it might make Mara worry and right now, there are enough worries.

Mara wraps an arm around the waist of her captain, the other to Juniper’s hand. Silently asking her to stop changing. “You good?”

Juniper doesn’t bother with the pants, or panties for that matter. She can always just sleep in a sports bra. “Am I ever?”

A light punch hits her ribs, with a soft laugh. “Jackass.”

Juniper rolls her eyes, smirking just a little. “I’ll be fine, used to them by now. Sorry for waking you, by the way.”

“Pfft, like I give a shit? Beats getting woken up to another alarm.” She spreads her arms out, yawning and patting the bed for her captain to climb in. “What’s on your mind, anyway?”

Juniper lays down, cuddling up to Mara. “It’s…a lot of stuff. That last mission, Epsilon knew we were coming and proceeded to taunt us afterwards. I can’t figure out how she knew, but—Sorry, I shouldn’t be debriefing you, you know this.”

The cute lieutenant, plants a kiss on her captain’s lips, holding her close. “I get it, don’t worry. Nothing you can do about it right now. Just try to relax, I got you.”

With a nod, Juniper relaxes in bed, getting comfortable.

The lieutenant lays her head on her captain’s chest, sighing gently. “I got a way you could unwind for a bit, take your mind off things. Unless you just wanna lay here?”

“Which is?” Juniper knows, but she wants to be a little shit.

Mara laughs. “Sex, dumbass.”

Normally she wouldn’t even entertain the idea after a shower, but it’s hard for her to say no to Mara. “Why not? Juniper says, tossing aside her sports bra.

She lays there with her lieutenant, snuggling up close. Mara doesn’t even give her a chance to relax, before her armpit is in Juniper’s nose. “C’mon, worship my pit, stink slut.” Gods, it’s an intoxicating smell, that makes Juniper hard just having her nose in it.

“Y’know, I haven’t showered since we got back, been too busy calibrating Selene. Besides, I’ve seen you huffing my bra and getting off to it. You’re just my stink-addicted puppy aren’t you?” Mara’s armpit is pushed deeper into Juniper Pup’s nose, cutting off her supply of fresh oxygen. Its smells so awful which only turns her on even more. Hound or Human, it doesn’t matter, they’re a stink slut who craves this.

“C’mon pup, get niiiice and deep in there and don’t forget to use your tongue. Your little sniffer is nice, but I want your tongue worshipping my musk!” Mara Master only has to say it once, before Pup’s tongue is licking every inch of her owner’s armpits.

Almost immediately, a haze sets in over the stinkslut dog’s mind. Master’s armpit reek of sweat mixed with her natural musk, the scent itself is overpowering. Whatever people words or thoughts Pup still had, they fade into the back of her mind.

After Master switches her to the other armpit, it takes only a signal; a pat on the head, for pup to stop. There’s a devious smile on Master’s face as she removes her panties. “Good girl! Now, kneel for me Pup, I’ve got a treat for my good girl!”

Pup barks, kneeling on the ground, her cock already at attention for her owner. From just a whiff of Master’s armpits, Pup finds herself lost in a high of musk and obedience. She would do anything commanded of her right now, because she is Master’s Dog.

Master holds out her panties, stretching them out and showing Pup the inside. They smell even worse than Pup could ever have imagined. “I had a little idea back in Gormo, seeing just how much of a dog you are, I got to thinking: What does a dog need? A nice reminder of who owns her.” She strokes her cock, keeping Pup’s attention focused solely on it. “I’ve worn these panties for a week straight, all to marinate ‘em in my scent.”

Pup barks, but says nothing otherwise. Dogs don’t speak, she knows that.

Master’s foot strokes Pup’s cock, listening to the moaning pants emanating from her. “See, I know how much of a stink slut you are. And I’m about to push your limit even further.” She laughs, stretching her panties out over her dog’s face. “Lookit you, good girl JunePup! I want you to breath in my scent, just let that rank smell break your little dog brain further.”

Pup breaths in the rank scent of her Master’s panties. It’s so awful and any normal person would be turned off. Good thing she’s just a dog and does whatever her owner says then. There no thoughts in her head, only that awful scent.

The panties only go down to her nose, leaving her mouth perfectly free—Not that a dumb dog like her would know how to use it. All the dumb dog does is bark for her Master, because that’s what’s expected of her.

Master laughs, getting down to her pup’s level. “There’s a good girl. Now then, I think you owe me something in return.”

Pup tilts her panty-covered head in confusion.

“Aww, it’s okay you don’t know. You’re just my dumb dog, after all. Hopelessly addicted to my scent and in love with my cock. Isn’t that right?” Master smirks, petting her pup.

Pup barks!

That smirk grows wider as Master speaks. “See, I know how in love with my cock you are, but my ass is just so lonely and needs love too. So, you’re going to lick my ass like the dumb, obedient dog you are!” She says sternly, focusing on the mutt at her feet.

Hungrily, Pup does as she’s been commanded, using the chance to bury her face into those cheeks, letting go of the shame and control. Unbridled pleasure drives Pup mad with lust, helping her to let go of any final hesitations. Right now, she has only desire in this situation: To eat her Master’s ass. Her tongue glides around her owner’s rim, the sloppy kisses, mixed with inhaling the addicting scent of her owner, drives her wild.

Pup’s tongue goes in deeper, giving her a fresh taste of just what made this so hot. Except before she can dive deeper, Master pulls away, pushing the dumb dog onto the floor. “Oh, JuniPup, did you really think I was going to just let you eat my ass like this? Nah. I’m going to use your face as my chair, while you worship my hole.” She laughs, spreading her cheeks and sitting on the scent-addicted dog’s face.

The dumb, scent-addicted dog, howls loudly into her owner’s ass, greedily lapping at that perfect hole. She’s more than eager to worship such a perfect ass, hungry to devour it and be a good girl for her owner. She eats Master’s ass, because Master fucks her ass, it’s only fair to repay her.

Master softly moans, touching Pup’s hard cock with slow, methodical strokes. Each stroke, she repeats a phrase, over and over: “This cock belongs to me. You belong to me.” Pup’s tongue sinks as far as it can, inhaling the scent of the one who owns her.

“You know, I like this position; you’re more useful to me when you’re using your tongue. Come on JuniPup, put that tongue to good use and worship your owner.”

Pup can barely breath, but she has Master’s panties to help make each inhale just that much better. They smell so good and it breaks her brain all over again with every breath. Right now, this is where she belongs: Underneath her owner, eating out her ass.

The dumb dog is quickly devolving further, giving herself over to the pleasure and shame of it all, because that makes it all the more hot. She’s only a dog, she’s guided by whatever her owner says, because Master knows best. There’s no way to escape this pleasure, heat and lust rip through her body, making her hungrier, wilder, while the pleasure continues to increase, throbbing all across her body. She’s lost herself to the ass and there might not be any coming back from it.

Master lets loose another moan, covering her mouth before it gets louder. Her body rocks in acceptance of the pleasure from the dumb dog underneath her. She comes hard, shooting her load of hot cum all across her pup.

Unaware of Master’s orgasm, Pup continues to shove her tongue in deep, reveling in the sloppy passion. She rubs her face into those cheeks, subservient and reckless, with a crazy touch to it. She’s nothing but a greedy dog and is more than happy to make sure that Master got the most from each moment of submission, that she’s gotten from the animal beneath her.

“Good Girl, JuniPup, you’ve got a talented tongue.” Master purrs, spreading her cum on the Pup’s cock, listening to the muffled moans beneath her. “Since you made me cum so hard, I’ll give you a reward.”

Master helps up her Pup, kissing her lips and holding her close. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. You ready for round 2?”

Pup Barks!

“Hahaha ‘course you are. Alright then, down girl! Ass in the air, we’re gonna have some more fun.”

Sinking to her knees on commands, Pup spreads her ass in the air, awaiting her reward. The last time they did this, she came so hard. This time, she hopes it’ll be even better.

Master doesn’t waste a second, plunging her cock into the dog’s asshole. Unlike last time, she isn’t going easy, her entire cock is already filling up this moaning dumb dog. Every time she inhales, she can smell Master.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl pup! You’ve been keeping your hole loose for me!” Masters breathes, gripping Pup’s hips tightly.

Quickly, Master begins to thrust in and out of her pet’s ass, using her right hand to rake her nails across Pup’s back. She can’t even begin to react, the haze of asseating, mixed with the musk she keeps inhaling has driven her insane. All that’s left inside her head right now is a pup eager to obey.

Her legs tremble from the pressure inside of her, barely holding back an orgasm. She’s so close, but she can’t cum, not until she’s been given permission. Especially not when Master is scratching her back with sharp nails, illicting a loud bark from her.

“Ahahaha, good girl Junipup! Might just need to make you wear a muzzle, to help complete the look! Whaddya say PuppiWuppi?” Master laughs, smacking the dog’s ass.

Pup barks in approval, as if she knew how to disapprove.

A muzzle, a dog like her needs one.

Master rakes her sharp nails against the mutt’s ass, laughing again. “Such a good girl, guess I’ll have to get you to get your muzzle from your locker then. You’re lucky I don’t make you go get it now, ‘cause we both know you’d do it!”

Pup barks again, like the dumb dog she is!

“Gods, you’re so fucking cute like this! I could get used to this” Master claws at the pup’s hips, leaving angry red marks, elicting yet another lewd moan from the dumb dog. “You’re just so fun to fuck!”

Master slows down, giving her fuckpet a breather, while her left hand finds its way down to Pup’s cock, teasing her balls with the slightest of touches. Gods, she wants so desperately to cum, but knows she can’t just yet.

“C’mon bitch! I’m so fucking close!”

Pup pants softly, holding herself together as best she can, which isn’t at all.

With one final push, a hot load of cum shoots deep inside of her, making pup howl at the top of her lungs. They’re lucky there’s no one in the quarters next door, or there would be questions. “C’mon JuniPup! Cum! Cum for your owner!” Master cackles, stroking Pup’s cock until she finally shoots all over the floor.

Master is panting as she pulls out. “G…Good…Girl….Ooof made me work for that one.” She points to the cum on the floor. “Go on pup, lick it up.”

Pup licks at her mess without hesitation, until it’s finally too much for her and she rolls onto her back, panting. She’s had enough and can’t keep going. Her entire body is screaming out in pain and she can already feel herself falling asleep.

“Alright, Pup, I think we’re both fucking beat. You can just be you again.” Master Mara says, patting the bed. “Fuck, you just took that like a champ.”

Pup Juniper crawls into the bed, laying her head on Mara’s sweaty chest. “Pfft, that was—“ She yawns, getting comfortable. “Fun.”

Mara strokes her captain’s hair, humming softly. “Sorry about the muzzle thing. Dunno if it still triggers you, got caught up in the moment.”

Juniper cuddles up close, kissing Mara’s lips. “It’s a hot idea, I’ll…I’ll grab it—later…” She dozes off, comfortable on the chest of her lieutenant. Mara saved her, but it’s Juniper’s turn to keep Mara safe.

***

❖

A few hours after their escapades in bed, Mara had to get up again for more calibrations on Selene. As for Juniper, she’s in the mess trying to get a hot meal. Trying being the operative word, because as she finally sits down to eat—

“You’re Captain Sladek, right? The Angel of Death? You took down a good chunk of those Imperial forces when they surprise attacked us!” Someone immediately interrupts what should be a quiet moment for her. “I heard you took down twenty of those dog-mechs! Is it true!?” A woman, maybe mid-twenties at best, says to her.

“I…uh….” Go away. Go away. Go away.

The young fangirl has stars in her eyes when speaking. “You’re a hero to folks around here, I can’t believe I’m getting to speak to you!”

She hates that word, ‘hero’, it’s so damn worthless. And for that matter, weren’t people looking at her with disgust not that long ago? What happened? “I…don’t—“

“Y’know, I was part of the team who got Lieutenant Saparlo’s call, we hauled ass to get to the crash site. Still can’t believe you got shot down and lived to tell the story!” This ball of energy talks a mile a minute, while Juniper is trying to keep herself calm. The bad thoughts are returning, she was supposed to be past this, but…she isn’t.

Instead she’s spiraling again, because she’s fucking pathetic. Gods, is it any wonder that Laila turned traitor?

“I…I don’t…” Juniper stares down at her food, trying to hard to keep herself together. “Look, could you just…let me eat in peace…please?” She whispers, hoping that the fangirl gets the hint.

The fangirl stares at her with a big smile, not getting the hint. “Crap, sorry ‘cap, where’re my manners? I’m Anna Rice, I’ve been following Wardog for years now! How’d you escape captivity!?”

Juniper bites the inside of her cheek, trying and failing to keep herself calm. “Look…I, um…W-Would you mind if I ate in peace?”

“No worries, cap! What were those dog mechs even like!? And did you manage to take down whatever the hell was commanding them!?”Anna talks a mile a minute, giving the spiraling Juniper no time to even think.

Juniper can see it all so clearly again. Argos—Laila— commanding those dogs in battle and then almost killing her. Why now? Why bring this up now?

“—Hey, leave her alone, can’t you see she’s trying to eat?”

A familiar voice calls, but it’s difficult to place who the voice belongs to. They fought together when it all went wrong, but were they—Gods, who even fucking remembers. Too many names, too many faces.

Just like old times, having to have to someone else fight her battles. Except this time it’s some mysterious face saving her ass, instead of Laila.

“Who’re you?” The fangirl sneers. “I’m trying to have a conversation with Captain Sladek here, that you’re interrupting!”

“…Please stop.” Juniper quietly says, hoping they listen, but it’s no good.

The stranger coming to her rescue cracks her knuckles. “Aurora Bion, I’m gonna give you to the count of three to—“ The annoying one socks Aurora in the jaw, only to get one back and then a kick to the gut. “Now get the fuck out of here!” She shouts.

Anna wipes blood from her mouth. “Look, Captain Sladek, you should probably avoid her. Y’know she killed her last squad leader, right? Still dunno why they didn’t hang her.”

Juniper closes her eyes, trying and failing to center herself.

“Either you leave, or the next person I kill? It’ll be you Anna. Now get the hell out of here.” Aurora shoos off the fangirl who finally gets the fucking message.

All eyes are on the two of them, as Aurora cracks her neck and sits down. Black hair down past her shoulders, a septum and eyebrow piercing, she looks more like a typical rebel pilot than Juniper and her seven stars. “Sorry about her, she doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“…Do you…know her?” Juniper makes herself small, hoping this will all end soon.

Aurora laughs, shaking her head. “No fucking clue, but from the stories I’ve heard from her squad, she’s a motormouth. How someone like her works under radio silence, I’ll never know.”

“Right.” Juniper distractedly says, trying to count backwards in her head. But again, it’s too damn loud. So many cheery conversations around her, when all she wants to do is bury her head somewhere deep.

Aurora doesn’t say much, occasionally taking bites of her food. “So, uh, you doing okay after that whole thing?”

“Guess so.” Even with this supposed ‘leash break’, Juniper finds herself reverting to her anxious self in an instant. Was it always this bad?

“Sorry for uh, disappearing during that fight. Ol’ Leo is equipped with an active camo system. I gave Mara cover while she pulled you out of the cockpit, but fuck, I feel bad for that.” There’s an apologetic look on Aurora’s face, but with how the past keeps getting brought up, it’s hard to feel okay.

“It’s okay. We lost comms, everything went to shit.” Juniper takes a bite and sighs. Gods, now isn’t the time for the traumatic memories to come back.

Aurora stares across the table at her. “You, uh, you okay? You look pale.”

“’M fine, probably just a lack of sleep.” Easier to lie than to say she’s in the throes of a panic attack.

Aurora nods. “I feel you, hard to sleep sometimes, knowing that alarm could go off at any minute.”

“…Is it true that you killed your squad lead?” Juniper says it quietly, as the eyes around them finally stop staring.

Aurora leans back in her chair, laughing. “Nah, shit for brains got in my firing line, got himself killed.”

Juniper stares at her food, fork trembling in her hands.

“I…I’m gonna find somewhere quieter, do you—“

Aurora flashes her a smile, nodding. “Oh, not at all, Captain, see you around.”

Walking out of the extremely loud mess, Juniper breaths a sigh of relief and looks for somewhere secluded to quietly have her panic attack. It’s easier if no one is around to see their “hero” breaking down, because as it turns out, she’s still broken. Even “breaking the leash” hasn’t helped.

She’s still…herself.

Around this time of day, the hangar and adjoining areas are quiet, because the maintenance teams are on break. Meaning that slipping into the changing area next to the hangar is easy. No prying eyes to see her spiraling, just a calmness that isn’t present elsewhere.

As she sits down against a locker, Juniper closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath and lets out another. Pulling her dog tags out from her tank top, her fingers press against the embossed text. Even with her eyes closed, she can tell the set she’s grasping are her own. The metal is a different material; stainless steel, as opposed to the aluminum of Laila’s set. Both sets are dented, but her’s were an older set.

With another sigh, Juniper loses herself in the memory of when they exchanged dog tags. It was a year ago, after a particularly harrowing mission. Hard to remember how many they lost that day, but the dual aces of Wardog got the job done. After some time spent commiserating in the mess, she got down onto one knee and took off her dog tags, offering them to Laila.

After some tears and hugs, Captain Praxian said yes.

Neither of them wanted to get married until they could beat back the Empire. Every mission felt like another step towards that goal, until it didn’t.

Juniper opens her eyes, staring at the lockers in front of her. The trembling has stopped, but her chest still feels tight. Fuck, what happened to her being a survivor? Wasn’t she supposed to be past this?

Who the hell knows.

Slowly standing, she stretches and opens the locker in front of her; her locker. Buried underneath gear, trash and who knows what, her muzzle should sit. Mara wants her to wear it in the bedroom. Which isn’t exactly something Juniper is comfortable with, but she finds it…difficult to disobey?

Not quite like how disobeying Epsilon would feel. Nor does she feel like an obedience akin to off the leash. It’s…hard to explain. She doesn’t want to disappoint Mara. Despite that fact that doesn’t control the leash, why is that?

It’s a similar feeling to how Juniper felt with her partner, but it’s difficult to remember what it is. They hollowed out her head, so even if she and Hound are one, some damage can’t be ever fixed. Maybe she’ll be this way forever, incapable of remembering certain feelings.

It’s not here.

Panic starts to set in once she realizes that the muzzle is gone. Who took it!? Why!? The only ones who would even know it’s in there are Mara and Eris. No, no, no, no.

Dammit, it has to be Eris. Could it be that she was lying and that she’s actually still just another puppet for that deranged bitch? None of it makes sense.

Slamming the locker closed, Juniper storms out and down the halls to Eris’ quarters. The only reason she’s not still imprisoned is that command saw an opportunity to use her in the field again. Never mind that it’s only been four or five weeks, since they faced off and they instantly trust her. No months long quarantine, no speeches about being watched, just being given a mech and told to kill imperials.

It’s all so damn clear to her now: Eris Peray is a fucking traitor. She claims to not want to go back to that…that bitch, but some part of her clearly still does. Juniper cracks her knuckles and her neck, kicking open the traitor’s door.

Except, what she sees when she barges in is not a traitor plotting her next move, nor the cryptic bullshit spewing prisoner. No. Within Eris’ quarters lies a broken down woman, curled up with only a pillow on her bed. Everything else has been strewn across the floor.

“Please…don’t…don’t put the mask back on me. I-I’ll be good, I’ll be better…” Juniper sighs, she could smack herself. Where does that fucking idiot even get off accusing this broken thing of anything!?

She’s so weak, is this really the same thing that damn near wiped out a convoy in Vernio? That animal was strong and fearsome, while this weakling only cowers on the bed.

Juniper growls, charging over to the bed and grabbing the weakling before she has any chance to fight back; as if it were capable of such a thing in this state. The weak beast thrashes in her arms, but it only takes one glare from Juniper to stop that. It sees a superior beast and knows its place.

Kicking open the bathroom door, she shoves the mutt known as “Eris” into the mirror. “Look at yourself, look at how weak you are!”

“W-What are you—June let go of me!” Eris weakily protests. “Whatever this is, stop! Or so help me, I’ll…I’ll—

“You’ll what?” JuniperHound snarls, assuming control for now. “You’ll cry? Beg for mercy? Eris: Off the Leash.” Those words fucking sting when they come from her mouth, but it feels good to wield this power.

“N-NO! JUNE PLEASE DON—“ Eris’ green eyes turn dull and glassy, as the light disappears from them. There’s a dead look in her eyes as her mind processes what has been done to it. Eris is dead right now.

Breaking free from the corpse of Eris, a beast growls and thrashes, breaking free of Juniper’s grasp. What fear still remains in her eyes is replaced by a raw and ruthless aggression, that she uses to slam the other hound against the wall. No one is allowed to use the leash but her master.

She tears at Juniper, fully intending to kill what is clearly a worthless hound. Yet, right as the mutt’s teeth bite down onto the other hound’s neck, it stops dead in its track. “Heel.” The command is breathy and pained, but she listens nonetheless.

It would be so fucking easy to beat this menial dog within an inch of its worthless life, teach it a proper lesson in obedience. Though tempting, Juniper and Hound both realize the course of action that needs to be taken. She reaches a hand up to stroke the mutt’s breast.

“You see it, right? What I am. What we are?” In an instant her own hesitations slip away, replaced with lust. It would be easy to beat this dog, but it’s even easier to break it. “Come on Mutt, look at us. We’re more than just a menial mutt. We’re more than a subservient dog meant to serve one who holds no actual power.”

“She doesn’t control you. Or: She doesn’t have to. We know the truth, she is but a simple usurper. She may have created us, but she cannot control us.” She stares directly into those dull green eyes. “Remember what she did to you. How she considered you a failure and for what? For boring her”

The anger on the mutt’s face begins to disappear, replaced by pleasure and fear in those eyes. Juniper’s knee slides between the mutt’s legs, rubbing against her vagina. This is a power that so few have tasted, it should disgust her, yet it does not. “Accept the truth, Hound. You are in control, not her.”

“Let those words sink deep into you and help you to realize that only you hold the leash.” Juniper gropes the Hound’s breasts, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“Her truth is meaningless. We’re just useless dogs to her, meant to be cannon fodder.” Hound soaks in the words, unmoving, unblinking. Simply nodding along. “She lied to you. Face reality, Hound.”

“Hound is Eris just as Eris is Hound.”

“Come on, Hound. It’s time to recognize you’re free.”

“Hound: On the leash.”

Eris comes back, gasping. Scared. “June, w-wait! Please yo—“

“Eris: Off the leash." Hound comes back, snarling.

"Hound: On the leash."

Eris is back. She bucks and tries to break free. Finally some fight. "Please, stop! It's getting c-closer! I-"

"It has to come closer, Eris. Look at me. Look at what I am." Eris looks at her through the mirror, but what recognizes her isn't Eris.

"Off the leash."

Hound barks out a word that almost sounds like "Stop."

“Offon the leash”

“J-JUNE Y-YOU—“ Eris growls, staring at herself in the mirror.

“Sorry, Eris, this is the only way.” Juniper says quietly, rubbing against her.

Eris stands there, unmoving, staring at herself. There is no light to her eyes, not even a growl left. All that remains standing right now is a husk trying to find its way out. She was unlucky, she spent years as a hound. Underneath that mask there was no life, simply a dog obeying orders.

Juniper continues whispering the words, stimulating the unmoving hound. It hurts a little more each time to use the leash; As if there were any other way. It’s like she’s hurting a part of herself in an effort to save a fellow hound from their pain. Perhaps this is the only way she can think of to atone for her sins.

“Eris: Off the leash.”

There is no response, no acknowledgment from hound.

“Hound: On the leash.”

Eris is quiet, unmoving.

“ErisHound: Break the leash.”

Juniper wraps her arms around ErisHound tightly, holding her still while still feeding her an immense amount of pleasure. As predicted, ErisHound thrashes once more attempting to escape from Juniper grasp, but she’s unsuccessful this time.

In only a matter of milliseconds, Eris and Hound have both died. What remains is a shell that contained the two. Light slowly begins to return to ErisHound’s eyes, but there is no cognizance behind them just yet. She’s panting while a slick spot begins developing between her legs. “J…J…J…June, what did…”

“…You do.” ErisHound stares at herself in the mirror, tracing a hand over her face. “What happened to us?”

Juniper smirks, leaning back against the wall. “I broke your leash.” She says quietly, calmly, still piecing herself back together.

“I…what? How?”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Same way I did, I guess? Confronting your inner turmoil and accepting that you’re both each other.”

Eris blinks, rubbing her eyes. “Wait, you did what!?”

Burying her hands back into her jacket pocket, Juniper gives a half-hearted shrug. “Hard to explain. But I am and am not me, essentially. It might take some time to fully process it, gods know I’m still figuring this out.”

“Okay, but why did you help me, I still don’t—“

Another sigh; this one much longer and drawn out. “You’ve been reeling since Epsilon taunted us, right?”

Eris says nothing, only staring.

“…I’ve been dealing with nightmares like that since I escaped. This was the only way we could help you. Because, as it turns out, I’m no good at ‘empathy’, not since they hollowed out my head, at least.” Juniper closes her eyes, calming her anxiety.

Eris nods, standing next to Juniper. “This is…a lot of information to process. Merging consciousnesses, I guess? How did that even happen?”

“Not important. I have a question for you though, Eris:” Juniper knows the answer, but needs to hear it plainly. “You’re intent on fighting her, right?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to explain, but a piece of me has been awake underneath that mask since you came along. After you pulled it off…I don’t know exactly what happened…” She trails off, fidgeting with her hands. “But I was still asleep until now.”

There’s a sad expression of Eris’ face, an all too familiar one. She’s mourning who she was, the old Eris Peray, before the mask. Even without the mask, she was only following orders. Gods, what a nightmare.

The two of them walk back into the bedroom, where Juniper finds a seat against the door, while Eris returns to bed, sitting cross-legged. It’s quiet for a few minutes, Eris ties her hair back, Juniper contemplating herself.

“…I met Laila again.” Juniper mutters more for herself.

Eris blinks, practically falling out of bed. “Where!? Is she—“

“I think so.” Juniper groans, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t think she’s a hound like us.”

No, of course not.

“She’s a Handler. Or one in training, I guess?”

“Mm, that…that makes sense. I’m sorry, June. I wish I could have done something, besides feeding you cryptic information.” It’s Eris’ turn to sigh as she lays back in bed. “I assume you two met in the Domed City?”

“…Yeah. And the Veterinarian—” Juniper goes pale mentioning that name, the memories haunt her. “—confirmed that Laila was alive.”

Silence falls over the two yet again, uncomfortable memories being shared between the two. “Hey, tell me something, Eris?”

“What is it?”

“Why do you think I keep having to fight monsters? First you in Vernio, then those damned dogs here in Volterra and now Aspis. Y’think we’re cursed?” The two hound amalgamations share a laugh.

But Eris shakes her head. “No, It’s because you interest Her. She let you escape, all part of some cryptic plan, I assume. More than likely, She sees us as specimens to experiment on.”

“How are we supposed to win against that?”

“Dunno.”

❖

It wasn’t long after her…conversation with Eris, that the radio on her hip went off. Apparently Commander Adama wants to speak with Juniper, so that’s great. Just what she needs today, more stress on-top of the already stressful day she’s had. Might as well get this over with.

As she passes pilots in the halls, they nod to her, some even smiling. Gods, she hates this even more. The looks of admiration, they all see an infallible hero, someone who isn’t broken. When the truth is: She’s broken, but in a different way than before. It’s hard to put into words how this is different, but it simply is.

Is this what Laila felt when she was the stronger of the two? Fucking hell, no wonder she wanted out.

Juniper buries her hands into her jacket pockets, fiddling with the lighter inside the right pocket. Something to keep her mind occupied and off of everything else. The further down the halls she gets, the quieter it is. Weird how that happens.

Reminds her a lot of the old days, back before Volterra was the heart of the rebellion in Kitala. When the rebels were more scattered to the winds and living on the run. The Empire felt invincible and unstoppable.

These days it’s different. They’re not invincible. The Empire is still a threat, but it’s clear they can be hurt. Yet it still feels more like a dream than anything, as if one wrong move could kill them all. Hard to say how Juniper is supposed to be feeling, because she doesn’t.

It’s different from when she was losing feeling from withdrawals. She just lacks the emotional capability to feel much as of late. Whatever, she’ll be fine eventually. Probably just a matter of time.

She’s been staring at the door of Commander Adama for the last five minutes, trying to find her nerve to knock. It’s not that she’s scared, it’s that she’s dreading meeting with him. He’s not a bad person, not like her, he just never gives good news. As is his job as a commander, she supposes.

With a short exhale, Juniper knocks on the door, steeling her nerves.

“Enter.” He says through the door.

Adama’s office is a rather small room, black carpeting, a wooden desk in the center, with various shelves lining the wall. “Sir.” Juniper nods to her Commander, taking a seat.

“It’s good to see you again, Captain Sladek, I trust you’re holding up well?” She isn’t, not in the least bit. But he doesn’t need to know that, no one does.

She nods, crossing her legs. “Well enough, I suppose, sir.”

“Good, I do apologize for calling you in here on such short notice, but I need to discuss a few things with you, Captain.” Adama’s hands are folded in front of his face, a serious look strains his expression. “I want to hear from your perspective what happened during that last mission.”

This was the last thing she wanted to do, recounting how Epsilon was one step ahead of them and planned this out in detail. Juniper groans, rubbing her forehead. “We were ambushed. They knew we were coming and they unleashed a new machine onto us.”

Adama nods, his expression not changing. “It took a bit of work, but the techs managed to pull a recording of comms from your mechs. I’d like to ask you about this officer who taunted you.”

Juniper stays quiet, thinking of a lie. She can’t reveal the truth, not about Laila, let alone of Epsilon. They’ll only see her as insane, which she might very well be, but not on this matter. “…When they captured me, she was the one they assigned to watch over me. The one who ultimately forced me to fight for them.” It’s only a half-truth. No one ever should know the truth of how they destroyed her.

“That certainly does line up with what Lieutenant Saparlo has said. And with the story you gave to the psychologists after your rescue. While I do ultimately still have questions, I’ll have to assume it’s the same with Lieutenant Peray.” Adama furrows his brow, rubbing his forehead. “That does bring me to my main concern about this mission however: I believe someone is feeding the Empire information on our movements.”

“Sir?”

“To say the least, I have my suspicions on Lieutenant Peray.” He sighs. “That attack on Volterra a month ago felt too coincidental. A patrol, I understand, we deal with those on a constant basis. But this? This felt more like a raiding party. If not for your heroism, we’d be dead.”

Heroism? All she did was break down and almost die, because her wife seems to have switched sides. There is no heroism, she isn’t a fucking hero either.

“It all seems too…coincidental, wouldn’t you agree?”

Juniper nods. “Y…Yes sir, it does.”

“Normally we’d suspect someone like Lieutenant Saparlo, being as only a few months ago she was a pilot serving the Empire. But defectors are nothing new and we can find no evidence that points to her having any hand in this.” He leans back in his chair, rubbing at his forehead again.

She wants desperately to speak in Eris’ defense, but how can she? The truth is that Juniper is also probably suspected. And if she says anything, they’ll suspect her of being a spy. Or worse; blame Mara.

Fuck. This is why she prefers working alone, less people getting hurt because of her.

“With all due respect, sir, what does this have to do with me?” Juniper says it rather meekly. On the surface she’s fine, her usual self. But the anxious thoughts refuse to leave her alone.

“Right, yes, of course.” Adama reaches into his desk, pulling out three manila folders. “I have these dossiers for you to read over. As of today, Wardog is being reactivated.” And there lies the biggest worry of all.

“Sir, we both saw how Wardog ended, wouldn’t it be best if—“

“Captain, do you remember the story of Sartha Thrace?” he interrupts to say.

She was a pilot. The pilot to many rebels. Despite never serving with the Kitala rebellion, her posters have spread far and wide. The legend surrounding her, is what made many pilots decide to join up.

“No, sir, I don’t think I do. She was a hero—“ It’s disgusting to say that word, makes her want to vomit. “—And apparently died when Leukon fell.” In reality, she probably ran once Leukon fell. Gods know, Juniper would have done the same.

He clears his throat, standing up. “Sartha Thrace was one of the finest pilots I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, one of our greatest heroes. Further to the east, the rebellion was fighting a losing battle. The Empire had us on the run for years, until Captain Thrace came along. Not only did she help to turn the tides of war on the battlefield, but in propaganda as well.”

Whoever Sartha Thrace was, she wasn’t a hero. She was just another broken down pilot, probably far too ready to die for a cause she no longer believed in. With any luck, she either died in battle or had the common sense to quit, before she would.

“Commander, I don’t have time to look after a bunch of starry eyed rookies. I’m out there to fight, not babysit.” Juniper says it bluntly, holding back her anger.

Adama nods in agreement. “I think you’ll find that what I’m proposing is quite the opposite. Look over the files and give me your thoughts, Captain.”

With a sigh, Juniper opens the first folder, but to her surprise it’s a file dedicated to Mara. Details on her service with the Empire, or at least what she’s talked about, as well as various notes about her.

The next one is similar, Eris, it details her service record with the rebels. Although there is also a note attached to it. They suspect her of being a spy and therefore, want her as a part of Wardog. Easier to keep track of her that way.

What is surprising though is the third file is on Aurora Bion. It goes into detail on how a disagreement with her last CO led to her allegedly killing them. However, as it was not proven, they decided she would be allowed to continue piloting.

It’s starting to become clear to Juniper as to what this new Wardog is. These aren’t the best and brightest of the rebellion, they’re the irregulars, the ones that Adama and the rest of the command staff want to keep a close eye on. And in turn, much like Sartha Thrace, they want to use Wardog for propaganda purposes, to help drive more people to fight.

Gods, Juniper wishes she had a choice in all of this. But ultimately, she knows that there is literally no choice in the matter. If she doesn’t accept this, they’ll suspect her of being a spy and summarily see her as nothing more than a liability.

She groans, rubbing her temples. “I assume this is all for the Aurelia mission?”

“That’s correct. Three weeks from today, your squad will be dropped into Aurelian territory. From there, you’ll be responsible for securing us a foothold in which to commence further operations. For right this minute, details are sparse, to prevent any leaks.” Adama clears his throat. “You’ll be briefed on the matter soon.”

This is not going to go how they think it will. But she knows better than to speak out. “I have one request sir: I want a fifth member on my team. It’ll be easier to secure a foothold that way.”

Adama cracks a smile, nodding. “If that is what gets you to take the mission, then so be it. You have three weeks to plan and prepare, you’ll be dropping in behind enemy lines to secure a route in for our forces.”

***

❖

When a good chunk of the base is asleep or on watch, that’s when Juniper can finally get herself a drink. It’s quiet in the mess, with just a handful of people hanging around and drinking. Perfect time to drink and be miserable for this hound!

“Gimme a bourbon on the rocks.” She says to the person behind the bar. Normally she’d have to pay, but there is one benefit to this hero crap. Free drinks. Save their asses enough times and whoever’s running the mess bar will happily slide you a drink or three.

They slide the glass down to her and she quietly sips it, contemplating a lot of things. Laila possibly being a traitor, the Aurelia op, even her own humanity. Fuck, Juniper isn’t even human. She’s a hound, but not. It’s still all complicated and makes no sense whatsoever.

But she isn’t human.

Stopped being when she put that muzzle on.

The longer she thinks about it, the worse her headache gets, so she does what anyone else in her position would do, and downs the glass in one chug. It doesn’t help her headache, probably makes it worse, but she needed that drink, so fucking badly. Besides, worse comes to she’ll have a hangover in the morning. Big deal.

“You still want that drink, Sladek?” Vera says, sitting down next to her. “’Cause I’m buying.”

Juniper only shrugs, leaning back in her seat. Vera Glass, not the person she really wants to deal with. Not now, maybe not ever. She knows too much, has seen too much. Apologetic or not, she’s a liability.

A liability that Juniper wants to get rid of. But that isn’t right, isn’t correct. Vera’s proven useful in combat and hasn’t threatened her once since their visit to the Vet. No, she’s scared, much like Juniper is. She’s tasted power and is afraid of it.

“Fine, just something decent, please.” Juniper finally says after a minute of silence.

Vera whistles sharply for the bartender, giving them a look. “Two cold ones, on my tab.”

Two cold bottles of beer are given to the pilots to drink. It smells like piss, but it’s cold piss. And at the end of it all, this is what pilots do, drink and revel in their misery. “Thanks.”

Vera looks like absolute shit. There are bags underneath her bloodshot eyes, like she hasn’t slept in days. Probably hasn’t, given what she knows. Reminds Juniper of herself, those first few days after her rescue. Didn’t sleep until the third or fourth day.

“…Why are you here?” Juniper says it quietly, staring at the fake-wooden bar. She can’t bring herself to say it aloud, despite how much she wants to. Because she’s a coward.

Vera sighs and remains silent. “I don’t know either. Got a lot on mind, I guess?” She says after a long silence between the two of them.

“So, speak, I guess.” Juniper sips her beer. it’s bitter and shitty, but the rebels don’t exactly have access to a brewery. This shit is made on site with spare supplies. Stuff like bourbon or anything halfway decent is all brought in, usually taken off the back of an Imperial convoy. Turns out imps’ll look the other way with a few credits or staring down the barrel of an autocannon.

A much longer sigh leaves her mouth. “Right, I, I don’t know how to really put this.” She looks around, ensuring no one is listening. Vera is paranoid, that’s new. “Ever since that day, all I see when I close my eyes are dogs. I-I can’t explain it, but they did something to my head. Except it’s escalated, now I’m one of those dogs, wearing a muzzle, obeying orders.” She twirls a lock of her hair around one finger, trying desperately to not break down.

Juniper stares at her, trying to any words of comfort, but there are none. Vera followed her into the depths of the underworld in an attempt to hurt her, this is her punishment. That…that makes sense in some way, no?

“How exactly do you deal with these nightmares? You…You have them, right?” Vera is twirling that strand much tighter. “I…I don’t know who would even believe this.”

Juniper sips the last of beer, shrugging. “Dunno.” She closes her eyes, exhaling softly. “I never dealt with mine, they still haunt me, because I’m broken, Vera. They hollowed me out and replaced anything resembling a person with a dog. And now? I’m whatever’s left.”

That last bit of hope in Vera’s eyes is crushed, crushed by reality. There is no way to deal with the nightmares, no way to get better. Even though Juniper has broken her leash, she is still the shattered remains of what once was a person.

“So that’s it then? I’m going to deal with these nightmares until I finally blow my brains out or—or that…that thing comes for me?” Vera bites her lip, ripping out the strand of hair she had been twirling.

“Mm, dunno.” Juniper can only shrug once more. “Why not run? Start a new life somewhere far from here. You’re a mercenary, you’re bound to have the money.”

“Got nowhere to go. No one left for me out there. Money’s useless when you’re used to drifting from place to place.” Vera looks to be on the verge of tears, until she breathes deeply. “Hey, bartender, two glasses of whatever’s strongest, I’ll pay out my tab after.”

Two glasses of scotch are set down and Vera nods to the bartender. “Keep whatever, shits useless to me anyway.” She says in a downtrodden voice, sounding like this is her last hurrah, before a suicide attempt.

Fuck it.

“You’ve got nowhere to go? Join the rebellion.” Juniper says it quietly, hating herself for even suggesting that. “…Join Wardog.”

Vera stares at her with a confused look. “Why do you want a headcase like me? You do realize I’m the one who…who…” She can’t bring herself to say the words. “…You know. Especially right now, I’m no good to anybody.”

“You think I give a shit if you’re a headcase? Eris lives in fear of being dragged back. Aurora allegedly killed her last squad leader. And Mara is fucking insane for even sticking with me. So tell me, what do we have to lose? Because by now it should be clear I’m the liability here.” Juniper spits those words, letting the aggressive feelings of Hound center her.

“My point is we’re all fucked in the head. You can either stop with this pity party bullshit and fight for something beyond your ego. Or, you can wallow in your misery until you finally put that barrel in your mouth and pull the trigger.” It’s easy to let Hound bleed into her personality, because she is Hound.

None of it makes any damned sense, but nothing ever does.

Vera laughs nervously, still biting at her lip. “Yeah, why the fuck not? Not like I got anywhere else to go.”

“0300 Hours, tomorrow, we’re running a training operation. I expect you to be there then, Glass.” Juniper says in a less angry tone, relaxing with her drink. There’s an actual taste to this, what a fucking miracle.

“Roger that, ‘Captain’” Vera says sarcastically.

It takes every ounce of resistance for Juniper to not punch her. Not as long as she has a request. “With that out of the way, there’s something I need you to look into.”

“What?” Vera leans back, drinking away.

Juniper looks nervously around, ensuring no one is listening in and then pulls a tablet out from her jacket. “What do you know about this?” She slides it to Vera. On it is an image of an owl, its wings extended, head titled curiously. The symbol of the information broker, Coeus.

After the Aurelia mission, the rebellion stopped using external sources, fearing they were compromised. But Juniper remembers this symbol well.

“Coeus? Last I heard whoever was behind it got killed.” Vera takes a sip of her scotch, sighing. “Fuckin’ brutal shit. Back of the head, execution style.”

Shit.

That was Juniper’s only lead to a question she hasn’t been able to get off her mind: Who sold her and Laila out?

“Fuck, okay. Then I’ve got nothing else. Talk to Adama, he’ll make it official that you’re one of us now.” She stands up, stashing away the tablet and walks off.

***

❖

Lights flash as the bulkhead door sealing the hangar from the tunnels opens wide. Juniper goes over final systems checks, engaging night vision once the cables disconnect from Ixion Stryx’s reactor. She takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come. It’s only a training exercise in the ruins of what once the city of Volterra. These days, it sits quiet, acting as camouflage for the base underneath.

The pilot connected to Ixion Stryx isn’t Juniper Sladek right now. Physically, of course, it’s her. But mentally, her other half—Hound—has taken over. Not the feral beast, killing on her master’s orders, but the survivor. The beast they tried, and failed, to tame.

It’s easier to be herself in the cockpit, than it is as a person.

She wraps her dog tags around the throttle, heaving out a breath. Her machine is first out, leading the formation of five units behind it. The tunnels are cramped and narrow, so night vision is an absolute must here to find your way. This is a seldom used exit to the surface, in case of enemy attack; easier to field multiple squads, rather than waiting for the elevators.

These tunnels are just large enough for Ares to fit through without scraping against.

“Comms check, all units sound off.” Juniper says, running a hand through her hair.

Wardog 2, Selene, ready to go.

Wardog 3, Leo, armed and ready.

Wardog 4, Ares, ready.

Wardog 5, Helios, good to go.

This is all so new to her, having a squad; Wardog, sound off. She’s officially a squad leader now, rather than going solo as she used to. Sure, she’s led groups in tight situations, like their last mission, but this is…official. It’s different, takes some getting used to.

The purpose of this mission is simple: In three weeks time, Wardog will be dropped behind enemy lines in Aurelia. They’ll be tasked with securing the area for the big invasion force. As such, they’ll need to be ready and this will help to some extent.

Moonlight begins breaking through the tunnel, meaning that they’ve hit ground. Thank the gods, one wrong move down there and it would be over for the five of them. No chance of surviving a cave-in.

Ixion Stryx steps foot into the ruins of the old city. Rebar skeletons of old buildings line the streets, makes Juniper wonder what this place used to look like all those years ago. Dust is kicked up from the various mechs following along the road. The road itself has holes everywhere, it’s a shock it hasn’t collapsed yet. Corpses of old mechs are around every corner, stripped of anything valuable long ago. It’s dark out here, with only the moonlight and night vision to guide them along. There’s nothing here to point to a rebel base being here, the way it’s meant to be.

“All units, spread out and take cover accordingly.” Juniper gives the command, watching the markers on her HUD spread out.

Small projectors attach around the ruins of old buildings, creating images of enemy mechs across the terrain. Some Doru and Belos looking like they did during the attack on Volterra. Thankfully there are no dog mechs in this, because there isn’t enough information on them.

This kind of tech isn’t easy to come across, it’s certainly not something the rebellion would normally have access to. Unless you happen to raid an Imperial training facility out in the sticks, which is exactly what they did. Turns out, these facilities have quite a few goodies ripe for the taking.

A Belos charges her, holographic sword primed for stabbing, only to be dispatched by Leo with a holographic cannon shot. “Good shot, would have saved my ass if that were for real.” The Belos hologram fizzles out, being replaced by another elsewhere.

Are you just going to play bait, captain? Or are you going to get into the fight? Aurora says, causing Juniper to smirk. Being the bait is fun, but it’s time to show them what she can do.

With the flick of a few overhead analog switches and then three to her left, Ixion Stryx spreads its wings, climbing above the ruins of old Volterra. “Personally, I was going to let you four do the work, but this’ll be more fun.” The sub-arm deploys the linear rifle, beginning its simulated charging sequence. Then, with the press of the trigger two Doru are taken out simultaneously.

Oh, fuck you Sladek, if you’re just going to show off, why don’t we make this fun?

“I’m listening, Glass.” As she says that, another shot is fired, taking out a Belos right through its reactor.

Lowest score buys drinks, whaddya say?

Juniper yawns and stretches, never enough sleep for her. “Fine, but I’m warning you, I’ve got the highest score. Think you can beat me?”

June, you forget who held the previous record, back in the day. Eris chimes in with a laugh. I might be a bit rusty, but I’ll show you both up.

Do I get the option of sitting this out? Mara says, as Selene fires holo-cannons at a Doru projection.

Nope, sorry Saparlo, if I’m being roped in, so are you. Aurora cackles, slicing a Belos with a spear.

“Alright, alright, clear comms. Here’s how this’ll go, winner gets free drinks, loser buys drinks for everyone else.” Juniper has to admit it’s nice having comms chatter like the old days. Even if this is the only time she actually feels much. “If you’re all done bitching, I’ll set the record for you to beat.”

She cracks her knuckles and her neck, psyching herself up. It’s been awhile since she’s done this, but it’s time to show up her new squad. Ixion Stryx touches down gracefully, folding back its wings.

The mental countdown starts in her head and once it reaches zero, her machine is moving with the finesse of a dancer. It took so many hours of training to get the thruster timing down just right, to even get her machine to move like it was dancing. But the end result is a graceful twirl wherein the scythe cleaves through multiple enemy units.

Gods it feels good to pull that off, even if it was just a training hologram.

With the defeat of the current batch of holograms, a new squad of Belos appear on the southern outskirts. Judging from the twin gatling cannons, they’re based on Leo. This will be fun. “Glass, on me.”

Ixion Stryx streaks across the ground, speeding towards the four Belos holograms. “Glass, on my mark, hit the lead and secondary with your shotgun, I’ll finish them.”

On it.

The Belos unleash a barrage of gatling fire, but it’s already far too late for them. She cuts the rear thrusters, letting the momentum carry her forward. “Now!” Ixion Stryx glides, with the only thing keeping it from slamming into the ground being Juniper’s skills coming into play. With Helios firing its shotgun, an opening is created for her to squeeze in, spinning the scythe as it cleaves through the other two Belos.

With only seconds to spare before impact, she sends the mech airborne as the wings unfold. Fuck, that was exhilarating. All the aggressiveness of Hound, mixed with the confident skills of Juniper. A perfect combination.

Ixion Stryx looks more angelic than before, owing to the dozens of ‘feathers’ on its wings. Specifically designed with aerodynamics in mind, this new addition may just prove useful if they have to fight another Aspis. Gods willing they never have to however.

This attack run was mostly about Juniper showing off, but incorporating some squad tactics will save them in the long run. Besides, this way, she gets to have her fun and still show off why she’s the one leading them. Leaning back in her seat, she settles in to watch Mara go next.

Selene starts its attack run, dancing around the holo-Doru but also completely failing to finish off four of the eight targets. She’s not bad, but clearly still hesitant to fire on Imperial mechs, though it’s hard to blame her. Years in the Empire, seeing those beetle-shelled fucks as your allies, will do that to you. Still, if she acts this way in the field, she’ll be done for.

Leo goes next, slashing a Belos clean through the cockpit with a spear, firing off its gatling at the next set of Doru that appear and finishing them in seconds. Aurora has some serious skill, not hard to see why she’s piloting a Belos with those moves. The problem is, that in the middle of her theatrics she failed to notice a Doru slipping through until it was on-top of her. Not bad, but needs improvement.

Vera laughs through comms, propelling Helios downrange, where its PPC fires a steady beam taking out four enemies. With impeccable thruster timing, it launches into the air, gliding down and striking a Doru with its axe. When she’s focused, she’s an amazing pilot. Not as good as Juniper, as noted in their previous battle, but good enough.

Ares does nothing. As the clock winds up, the mech just stands there until a barrage of simulated artillery from its back, along with its main gun, all fire upon the group of holographic mechs. With five seconds remaining, Eris beats Juniper’s time and yawns, as if to gloat.

Looks like I win, June. Eris says smugly.

“Yeah, laugh it up, I still did it with style.” Juniper retorts, stifling a laugh.

It’s easy for her to pretend to be okay in the cockpit, easy for her to be okay in the cockpit. It brings a certain thrill to it all that she can’t pass up. Guess this is why she’s nothing but a dog then.

“Okay, normally I’d wrap it up here, but I’ve got a better idea: The four of you, versus me. I’ll buy the winner drinks and I’m talking top-shelf shit; brandy or whatever your poison is.” They’ll almost assuredly have to fight Argos, it’s best to be prepared. “Keep in mind, I will be airborne, so CQC is not going to work.” Juniper keeps her mech in a low hover, but doesn’t have to wait long for an attack, as Helios immediately fires a PPC shot.

Unfortunately for Vera, Ixion Stryx is nimble and easily dodges those shots. As for her; the sub-arm switches out the scythe for the linear rifle. With a barrel roll, Juniper fires a simulated rifle shot at Helios. If this were live-fire, that would have penetrated. Lucky for Vera, it isn’t.

“Not bad, but you need to keep in mind I’ve got speed on my side.” Juniper fights back a yawn, they’re boring her.

Uh, captain? Not to spoil the fun, but radar’s picking up bandits.

“How many we got, Saparlo?” Ixion Stryx touches down, venting heat.

Unknown at this time, we’ve been given the green light to engage. Looks like a small patrol, ten klicks to the east. There’s worry in Mara’s voice, she remembers the last time this happened. But it’ll be different this go round.

“Saparlo, commence jamming, I want them blind and deaf.” Juniper runs a hand through her hair, disengaging the training routine and booting up the weapons systems at long last. “Fall in on me, we’re going to give them a surprise.”

All at once, the five units of Wardog Squadron rush towards the outcropping where an Imperial force was picked up. Better not to take to the skies, until she knows what they’re up against. Also gives them the surprise of their life, when she unleashes some new additions to Ixion Stryx.

Radar picks up fifteen mechs, all Doru. Just a standard patrol then, no dogs, not even a Belos with them. Probably got lost on their way back to wherever their outpost is. Though from all accounts, the nearest outpost is much further west. Odd.

“Saparlo, you and Eris will stay further out. Both your mechs are built for long-range, so keep them guessing. Glass, Bion, you’re with me. We’re going to box them in and give the long-range units room to rain hellfire on them.”

Copy that captain.

Roger, Sladek.

Vera, you need to start addressing her as ‘Captain’ now.

Screw that! If she's a Captain, I want her to start shit-talking like a Captain.

“Vera, if I wanted to shit-talk, I’d bring up your performance against me in Levka. Don’t forget, I beat you with a one-armed mech. Damn near killed you too, before I had a neuro-overload. But if you really want round two, I’d be happy to go at it after this is done.” She cracks her knuckles, cackling like an idiot.

Fuck you, Captain Sladek.

“And for the record, I don’t care about rank. Now cut the chatter, all of you.” Juniper says, focusing her attention to the monitors.

In a single file formation, the three mechs of Wardog continue to advance until they’ve hit their destination, a dried lake. Their enemies aren’t here, the goal is to guide them here. Ixion Stryx’s wings unfold, red energy pulsating as it takes to the skies. Lit up nice and bright for the advancing patrol to find. Time to give them incentive.

Juniper throws the controls forward, sending her mech horizontal and barreling towards the incoming patrol. She snarls and growls, letting the animal inside of her break free. It feels so freeing to finally stop fighting it—herself.

Machine gun fires erupts from the Doru beneath her, and while she could evade, she’s got a better idea: All six wings fully expand as Ixion Stryx goes vertical once again. In the blink of an eye, the ‘feathers’ on her mech hurdle towards the enemies below. On impact, the superheated projectiles melt through the enemy armor.

Hostile Doru are still standing, but this wasn’t meant to kill. It was meant to soften them up for what comes next. With the attention still focused on Ixion Stryx, a shotgun blast from the rear takes them down. Vera’s right on schedule.

Leading them to the kill-zone is easy, imperial pilots don’t think for themselves, too focused on what’s ahead of them. It also helps that Leo sinks in and out of active camouflage, taking down taking down stragglers with a spear.

Mara’s voice comes over comms, followed by sounds of keys clicking frantically. June, we’ve got a bogey approaching from seventy klicks west. Can’t get a read on it, but it’s fast, you’re on intercept duty.

Shit.

Juniper unleashes the throttle, sending Ixion Stryx horizontal. Whatever’s awaiting her, she’ll deal with it, because she’s the best fucking pilot around. Because she’s the Angel of Death.

Her machine is fast, much faster than Ixion ever was. Those four engines produced just enough thrust to keep her airborne. But they’ve been upgraded, much like most of the mech has been. Two engines produce more speed and power, than she could ever have dreamed of.

Heat is always an issue with two engines producing this much power. It means that flight time is limited, twenty minutes, maybe forty-five in ideal conditions. But that’s all she needs for this.

Bolts rattle from the gs being pulled with just the afterburners firing. It’s difficult to even try and catch up to this thing, it’s fast, easily faster than any mech she’s ever encountered. Has to be an aircraft, only thing that makes sense. Except that the Empire doesn’t fly recon over Volterra.

As she screams towards the unknown, Juniper takes a deep breath. Radar lock warnings blare out before she even has a chance to figure out what she’s up against. Pulling the stick back hard, she climbs and pops flares, hoping that’ll shake off any potential missile.

“Bogey has missile lock on me! Do I have permission to fire!?” She practically screams it out, trying to keep herself calm.

Banking into a right turn, she’s forced back into her seat, every breath is becoming harder than the last. It’s hard enough to keep herself from blacking out, but dealing with ice forming on her wings is becoming a nightmare. Radar warnings ring in her ears, while the bogey continues to evade identification.

There’s a solution to one problem: Juniper cranks up the reactor output to Ixion Stryx, letting the heat boil away the ice on her wings. Returning just enough maneuverability to evade the radar lock and climb higher out of range.

The skies belong to her and no one else.

Juniper wants to scream, realizing what she’s up against. Instead, she lets the realization of wash over her. It’s not an aircraft that she’s up against. Should have seen this one coming.

It’s Laila.

Except, given how things have gone lately, it’s not her, just another ghost meant to scare her shitless. Too bad she’s not falling for that trick again. There’ll be time to worry later, when this asshole has been dealt with. Whoever this pilot is, they’re good, she’ll give them that.

She’s better.

Another radar warning wails in the cockpit, forcing the mech into further evasive maneuvers. The bandit keeps disappearing, only to re-appear on her six o’clock. And despite the clear radar lock, they refuse to fire. Is she being toyed with!?

Shouldn’t even be able to get a radar lock on her, unless—Fuck, counter-jamming, of course something like this would come equipped with it.

After a delay, Mara’s voice lights up the comms. Control has no damn clue what’s going on up there, but wants you to hold off until further instruction. Further instruction!? This is a fucking dogfight, the only way this is going to end is with one of them going down in flames.

Fine, if she can’t shoot, there are other ways to have fun.

Heaving the throttle as far back as it’ll go, air brakes deploy, bleeding off speed and throwing the mech into a tight maneuver. Just as Ixion Stryx loops back, tracer rounds erupt from its chest vulcans, illuminating a set on horns on the bogey’s head. Jagged, deformed horns.

Reactor signature pings back as Argus, which is when it rolls onto its back, giving her a full view of its body. A familiar emblem rests on its chest, right above the cockpit: A black dog, outlined in gold, with an orange lightning bolt across its neck.

Wardog.