She exhales sharply, feet sliding across the floor, while her fists pound against the bag. Juniper ducks, throwing a low jab onto the bag. Without an ounce of hesitation she throws an uppercut onto the bag. Her entire body burns so fucking good right now.

Juking to the left, her taped-fists land a flurry of punches onto the bag while sweat glistens off her body. It’s easy to imagine this as Epsilon, she has every reason to despise that woman. She had them both shot down and did something to Laila. But it’s okay, because when Wardog set foot in Aurelia again after so long, Laila’s coming home.

With a low duck, Juniper delivers a hard haymaker with her right fist, keeping her left up to guard. Can’t get sloppy, gotta keep up with the training. Otherwise she’ll be no good to anyone. Her jabs are perfect, helps that she’s been practicing every day for the past three weeks.

Her form still needs work, but it’s getting there.

That burn in her body only intensifies with a continued rhythm of punches against the bag. A left cross hits, following that up immediately with an uppercut. One more flurry of punches hit the bag, before she collapses onto the floor a sweaty mess. Her chest feels so tight, making it hard to breath, but that’s why it feels incredible.

Juniper reaches for a bottle of water, pouring it over her sweaty face and body. It’s so cold, absolutely what she needed right now. Gods, she hasn’t felt this alive in so damn long. Everything is going as it should, and she’s on top of the world!

She picks herself up from the floor, giving her body a good sweaty stretch. After guzzling down more water, she throws her arms back up into position and closes her eyes. With a loud exhale, she starts again. A jab turns into an uppercut, which quickly is followed with a kick to the mid-section of the bag.

There’s a spring in her step with every movement, one that reminds her of Laila hitting the bag. Before a big mission like this, she was practically glued to it. Just like the day of their final mission together.

One punch lands, followed up quickly with another, which itself is finished with a hard jab to the top of the monochromatic bag. Her feet are moving across the floor with the grace of a dancer to them.

A one-two punch is thrown, quickly sliding back and throwing a hook onto the lower part of the bag, resetting her stance again. After a long and slow inhale, she exhales, immediately throwing punch after punch onto the bag without hesitation. Hesitation gets you killed and she’s died enough.

She’s aiming to come back alive, because someone has to.

Keeping the rhythm going, Juniper throws a one-two hook to the head, finishing that with a shot to the body. Every bone in her body aches with a fury to them. Gods, this is just what she needed to get her head straight.

She throws her fists up, moving back and forth, ducking and dodging every imaginary punch that comes her way. Then with her opening, a flurry of punches slam against the bag. She move backwards, fists up again, landing on the balls of her feet.

After another chance to catch her breath, she gets low, sending four punches onto the bag. Three more land onto the head of the bag, finishing that with a step backwards.

The door to her quarters opens, spilling light into the dark room. Mara hangs by the open doorway, holding a towel. “Damn, good form.” She’s grinning, watching her captain finish her punching drills.

Juniper moves from side to side, delivering punch after punch after punch onto the bag with a fury to them. Fuck, she’s in top form today, all that training is finally starting to pay off.

“You’re up earlier than normal. More nightmares?” Mara hands Juniper a towel to clean her sweat off with.

“Not this time, just antsy, I guess?” She guzzles down another bottle of water, collapsing backwards onto the bed with a towel over her head. “What time’s it anyway?”

“Little after seven, wanna grab some chow?” Mara yawns. They’ve both been up early for the past few weeks running simulation after simulation with the rest of the squad. Practicing dropping mechs from a transport plane. For Juniper, it’s easy, she’s done it dozens of times.

Eris has done this a few times back in the day, so for her, it’s just getting back on the saddle. While the other three have had mishap after mishap. It’s understandable though, mechs aren’t supposed to parachute. It’s a timing issue; too early, you’ll get blown off course. Too late and you’re dead. The rocket motors need a chance to fire and slow the mechs descent.

“Yeah, I got something for you first.” Juniper hops up and rummages under the bed, pulling out a brown leather jacket with a fur lining around the collar. Not real fur, since that’s difficult to come by, but something close enough. “My captain got me one after my first big mission and I think it’s time I give my lieutenant one, don’t you?”

The jacket itself is much like her own, though much less worn in and it only has the most basic patches. Her own jacket has seen years of wear and tear, it’s a surprise the damn thing still even zips properly.

“June, are you? You…You…” Mara’s lost for words, hugging her captain tightly. “I love you, June.”

Love? What the hell is love?

The air goes quiet, as Juniper fumbles for a response. After everything Mara has done for her, she has to say it, right? It would be selfish to not at least fake it. “I…love you too, Mara.” There’s hesitance to her words, but Mara doesn’t notice, kissing her lips instead.

They hollowed out every last feeling and emotion in Juniper’s head, replacing it with fear and anxieties. Every damn emotion she expresses now is fake, because that’s who Juniper Sladek is now: Fake.

But this is the least she can do for Mara, is to pretend to love her. After all, it’s only right to repay her, right? “It was a bitch and a half to get, but I even got the squadron patch on the back for you.”

“How in the fuck did you—Nah, never mind.” Mara slides on the jacket, running a hand over the leather sleeves. “Damn, do you this for every girl you sleep with? Or just me?” She laughs.

Juniper shrugs. “No, this is, uh…the first time.”

“Right, sorry, forgot you—Right.” Mara admires the jacket in the bathroom mirror, whistling.

While Mara has spent the last few minutes admiring her new jacket, Juniper has already changed into non-sweat soaked clothes and is lacing up her boots. “I’m gonna head to the hangar, check in on the work, before chow. You coming?”

“Nah, spent enough time there recently. Pretty sure if I make one more complaint about the dish on Selene, Mora’s going to kill me. You go on ahead.”

“Sure.” She slips on her jacket, letting her hands fiddle with the lighter in her right pocket.

It’s an old lighter, antique from decades ago. She still has no clue how Laila even found the thing, but it was a gift. Despite Volterra being an underground base there are quite a few smoking spots if you get creative. Though most of it is just up in the old train station.

Not exactly an easy place to get up to, but worth it for the view and the smoking spots.

Juniper is going to miss this place. It’s been almost a month since she’s actually left Volterra proper. Except this time it’s to make a homecoming in Aurelia. She wishes the circumstances were better, but they’ll make do. Wardog always does.

Pilots in the halls stop to gawk at her, only being shooed away with a nod and quiet smile. Ever since they pinned her as the one responsible for saving Volterra Base, the recruitment posters with her face on them have started circulating again. Nowhere near as much as the ones of Sartha Thrace, but enough to make everyone take notice.

It’ll be even worse after they take back Aurelia, but that’s life. Juniper’s got bigger problems to worry about right now. After this operation is over, she’s taking a long fucking nap and hitting the bag for as long as she wants without interruption.

The hangar door opens, slowly revealing a hectic scene behind them. Mechs in various states of maintenance, some missing limbs, others with ports opened. But in the very back of the hangar, near the rear elevator sit five mech bays. Five bays reserved for Wardog.

With a soft exhale, Juniper walks through the hangar, dodging sparks from hot work, as well as techs running all over the place. It’s a short walk to the rear of the hangar, but it gives her a chance to admire all the mechs on display. A few of them are heavily modified Doru, stripped down to the frame, with only the telltale monoeye being retained.

Juniper stares up at Ixion Stryx, admiring it from down below. At the moment, its armor has mostly been stripped down to the bare frame in order to make needed repairs and such. Everyone is scrambling to get the last bit of repairs taken care of, so that this mission can go off without a hitch.

But just as she stops paying attention to her surroundings, she’s hugged from behind. It’s Mora, she’d recognize that bear hug anywhere. “Busy day ahead, eh?”

Mora groans. “Gods, you don’t know the half of it. Your mech is the last one in the squad we’re working on. It just needs a good tuneup, nothing crazy. But we’ve still got to fit the parachute systems and—“

Juniper interrupts her by breaking the hug. “Hey, I get it. My baby’s a hangar queen, least she’s good for that, right?”

Mora playfully punches her in the shoulder, laughing. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna make your baby purr, just you wait.”

“Yeah, I expect nothing less from the great Mora Boscht, the madwoman who made Argos fly.” Juniper rolls her eyes, leaning back on the mech’s leg.

For that, Mora punches her again, a little harder. “Hey, you wanna talk about hangar queens, that fucking thing was a product of insanity. Shame we lost it, I always loved tinkering with it.”

Juniper wishes she could tell Mora the truth, that Laila is alive and working for the Empire. But no one would believe her. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“You give your lieutenant that jacket I scrounged?” Mora grins.

“Yeah, she uh…she was thankful. Thank you for finding that.”

As they stand there, someone in the distance yells for Mora. Probably another one of her subordinates. “Damn, right as I catch a break too. Sorry, June, I gotta get back to it. Give ‘em hell out there, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Alone once more, Juniper pats the leg of her mech, admiring it one last time. Hard to believe they’ve lasted this long together. Still got one big job ahead of them though: Taking Laila home.

Fuck the Empire, fuck the rebels. All that matters now is Laila. Not her homeland, not this mission, just Laila. Juniper owes it to her to bring her home safe. After all, what kind of partner would she be otherwise?

Laila’d do the same for her, if their situations were reversed. It’s only right that Juniper do the same for her. They messed with her mind, did who knows what to her. Because there is no way Laila Praxian would ever betray anyone. She was the hero, the one everyone looked up to. Because she acted like one, while Juniper became reclusive.

She buries her hands back into her jacket pockets, fiddling with the lighter as she walks out of the hangar and through the halls. Right now the only thing keeping her from exploding from a panic attack is flipping the lighter idly.

Too many thoughts in her head suddenly.

Fuck, even weeks later, she still feels off. She still doesn’t understand how she “broke the leash”, or what that even means. Maybe she doesn’t want to understand, because of the headache it would bring. One thing is clear to her though: She’s become oddly…protective over Mara.

Is that just what love is? Or is something else?

Who knows?

Juniper yawns and stretches, walking into the mess. Compared to the usual chaos, it’s rather quiet in here for a change. Mara’s already sat down in a corner with whatever passes for breakfast here. And after Juniper grabs her own meal, she sits down next to her lieutenant for a quiet morning.

“Everything looking right with your mech?” Mara yawns, looking worse than she does. Eyebags and all.

Juniper shrugs. “About as well as ever.”

“How the hell do those hangar techs not go crazy maintaining that mech? Because no offense, but—“ Mara sips her coffee. “—I can’t imagine it’s easy maintaining a mech that fucking flies. Has to be an entire maintenance team just to gawk at the thing.”

“Who says they’re not crazy? Fuck, Mora reverse engineered Ixion’s flight system just to create Argos. You want to talk complex? That thing was complex.” Juniper takes a sip of coffee, sighing. The coffee is probably the most decent thing here and only because it’s stolen from imperial convoys.

Mara damn near chokes back her breakfast in shock. “I heard stories about the rebels having two flying mechs, but my squad only ever encountered you. And she built it!?”

“It’s every technician's dream to build a mech, or so I’ve been told. Mora just had the ability to do so.” Juniper shrugs again, sipping the last bits of her coffee.

“Certainly explains all the posters I’ve seen of two winged mechs. Thought it was just something they did to scare rookies shitless.” Despite being a jury rigged piece of shit, Argos embodied the rebel spirit perfectly. It wasn’t the product of some imperial program, it was just a Doru given a bulky flight system made from spare parts.

She misses those days, but neither Ixion or Argos exist anymore. Ixion Stryx and Argus rose from the ashes, destined to fight one another to the death.

“Oh, hey, cap.” The annoyingly familiar voice of that fangirl, Anna Rice, beams brightly. It’s too early to deal with her. “How’s the morning treating you, Mara?”

Mara shrugs, smirking at Anna. “Eh, y’know, same ol’ bullshit. Ready for this mission to be done and over with, maybe I can get some actual sleep then.”

In an instant, Juniper goes quiet, forgetting what they were just talking about before she came in. She feels more like a rabid dog about to bite someone right now, than she does herself.

“Feel that. I still have no damn clue how they’re expecting us to just waltz into enemy territory and just take it. I mean, I know you guys are doing the heavy lifting in securing a foothold, but fuck man.” Anna takes a sip of her coffee, sighing. “Shit feels weird.”

Mara nods in agreement. “I’ve learned to stop questioning the motives of the ones up top, only brings a headache.” She grips her captain’s hand, squeezing it softly. “’Sides, long as we got June with us? We’ll be fine. She’s invincible.”

Juniper for her part nods along, keeping quiet. Her head is a mess right now, but if Anna tries anything then she’ll…she’ll what? Regret it? The last time this happened, Aurora had to shut the fangirl up herself.

She takes a deep breath through the nose and exhales out the mouth, squeezing Mara’s hand. Juniper is in control, no one else. As easy as it would be to reach across the table and make Anna bleed, it’s best saved for the actual enemy. Not an annoyance.

“June?” Mara says, shaking her from the exercise in self-control. “You there?”

“Huh? Sorry, I lost focus.”

Mara looks concerned, but doesn’t seem to vocalize it. “Figured you might wanna weigh in on the whole Aurelia op?”

What is there to say? If it succeeds, it’ll be hell for every last pilot involved.

“Um…I…I dunno. I know it’s my homeland, but…” Juniper goes quiet again, unsure what to say.

Which is all the excuse Anna needs to open her mouth again. “You’re why I joined the rebellion! The rebellion’s big ace from my hometown of Drusi!? That was all the reason I needed to join up!” Is she always this talkative? Fuck's sake. “I still have that poster of you and Captain Praxian in my quarters! You two were amazing!”

Juniper closes her eyes, mentally counting backwards. Easy to remember the poster she’s talking about. They didn’t even get Laila’s hair right in the image. She always kept it over her left eye, but they flipped it to the right for some reason. The art wasn’t bad, Laila even collected a few for keepsakes.

It’s fine, she’ll see Laila soon enough and bring her home, as promised.

“You’re from Drusi? Shit, we were stationed out there before.” Mara grimaces, going pale. “Not exactly a deployment to brag about…”

Anna puts onto the ex-Imperial’s shoulder, flashing a soft smile. “Hey, important thing is you’re one of us now!”

Too close…too fucking close. Want to hurt her, make her bleed for getting that close to Mara. Annoyances like her should be dealt with. But instead, Juniper takes another deep breath.

Mara shifts in her seat, fidgeting with her jacket zipper. “What was Drusi like? Before the war that is.”

Anna hums, thinking. “It was a utopia, we all lived in peace. Streets lined with gold, no crime, all that junk.” Then she bursts out laughing, watching the ex-Imperial’s expression change. “Nah, it was a fucking shithole. Aurelia as a whole fucking sucked, but eh, that’s the world. Didn’t grow up hungry or thirsty, so hey, good enough, right?” She shrugs.

Juniper nods in agreement. “Yeah, it…it sucked. Only way out was to join the army and we saw how fast they fell. Empire came in, took over in about a week.” She taps her fingers against the table nervously, recalling the fall of Aurelia. “I was only a cadet in the military, but those of us who didn’t fall in line with the new regime, joined up with the rebellion.”

“Never heard that story before. You save that one for special occasions, June?” Mara smirks, squeezing her captain’s hand under the table.

“Just don’t have reason to talk about the past, I guess?” Juniper doesn’t talk about the past. Not even Laila knew the truth about her past. Just the bullshit lie that everyone heard. Turns out rebels will believe any bullshit story you tell them, as long as you make it sound sympathetic.

Besides, if they knew who the real Juniper Sladek was, they’d fucking vomit. She’s not a hero, she barely even passes for human these days. In truth, she’s whatever survived Epsilon’s torture. A survivor, a fucking dog too stubborn or stupid to die.

She unlatches her hand from Mara’s, fiddling with the lighter in her pocket. Helps to shake off the memories and the urges. Even right now, she wants more than anything to reach across that table and hurt Anna. All because she threatened this "survivor" with her words.

With every violent intrusive thought, Juniper has to breathe; slow and deep. Helps to keep the violent urges in check and for her to remain in control. Juniper and Hound may be one, in some weird way. But it doesn’t mean she’s “fixed”, only that her intrusive thoughts are louder now.

Mara looks at her with concern again, but still refuses to say anything.

“Mornin’ cap.” Aurora nods to her captain, sitting down to eat. “Big one today, eh?”

Anna for her part goes silent, glaring at Aurora, but biting her tongue. Probably hasn’t forgotten the beat down she was given. Good.

Juniper nods back to her. “Yeah. We’ve trained for this, but…yeah.” Juniper stares down at the table, her voice barely above a whisper. “Think you can handle it?”

A shrug; Aurora leans back. “Meh, I'm not confident, but it’s gotta be done, right?”

The three wardogs nod in agreement. They all know what’s at stake, every damn rebel knows that. Hit Aurelia, and hit it hard.

Mara occasionally glances to her side, offering her captain a smile when their eyes meet. There’s love in those eyes, a love for someone so damn undeserving of it. She loves Juniper, but Juniper….Juniper doesn’t know what she feels. Mara has saved her multiple times, they fucking sleep together in the same bed. Isn’t that love?

It has to be, otherwise what the hell are you supposed to call it?

Mara Saparlo is someone that Juniper can’t take her eyes off of. Because every time she does, she’s given a new reason to protect this ex-Imperial. The one who helped her when she was lost in her own hallucinations, and pried her from the cockpit after being shot down. Why? Why does she love Juniper so damn much? The question gnaws at her, it should be so obvious, but it isn’t.

Love makes no sense, but isn’t that the point?

“Cap?” Aurora interrupts the cascading of thoughts.

“Mm?”

“Was asking about the work being done to your machine.” Everyone is staring at her now, or that’s how it feels anyway.

Juniper shrugs, leaning back. “Nothing major, just a quick tune-up is all.”

She and Mara share a long look that says it all. Silently asking if Captain Sladek is doing okay. Which of course, she isn’t.

“You see Vera, by the way?” Aurora says between bites of her meal. “Swear I heard muttering from her quarters last night. Fucking unnerving stuff.”

“Maybe she’s praying?” Anna snickers and gets a dirty look for it.

Aurora shakes her head, “Nah, sounded…weird. Can’t explain it, but it wasn’t prayer.”

Juniper stands, nodding to everyone as she walks out. Mara isn’t far behind, following along until the two of them are somewhere quieter. “You okay, June? Lookin’ a little…pale.”

“Yeah, just…gotta get my head straight.” Juniper sinks to the ground, pressing her back against the wall. “Too many thoughts is all, you know how that goes.” A bold faced lie, but that’s what she does, lie until she can’t anymore.

Mara sits next to her, resting her head on Juniper’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah I do. For what it’s worth, if you’re worried about the mission—“

Juniper shakes her head. “Just anxious is all, I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna worry, because I love you. Besides, even I can tell you’re not okay.” Mara says it gently, staring into the nothingness with Juniper.

“Hard talking about the past, I guess?” She shrugs, closing her eyes, imagining herself literally anywhere but here. “Sorry.”

The red-headed lieutenant on her shoulder laughs. “The past is stupid anyway. I spent too long fighting for an empire hellbent on destroying us all. Who gives a shit?”

She would, if she knew the truth. That Juniper sold her soul long before Epsilon.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Mara’s hand gently runs through her captain’s hair, “Your hair’s gotten longer. Looks cute on you.”

“Mm. Meant to cut it, but never got around to it. Feels weird not having my sides shaved.” Juniper sighs quietly, running her hand through her hair. The sides are still fairly short, but the back is just long enough to where she can tie it. Not exactly something she’s used to. “Got a hair tie?”

Mara kisses her cheek, digging in her jacket pocket. “Keep it, I’ve got enough of ‘em.”

Juniper ties back her shaggy hair, looping it into a short ponytail. She doesn’t remember the last time she had hair this long, aside from the mop after her rescue. Maybe she’ll keep it for a bit. Not like it’s easy getting a haircut here anyway. When the convoys are in, there’s usually someone who can, but that’s once a month.

Mara holds Juniper close, staring into her eyes. “I love you, June.”

“Love you too.”

***

Only a few hours until their mission, so it’s time to make the final rounds. Might not come back after all.

Juniper knocks on Eris’ door, standing there with her hands in her jacket pocket, hoping it doesn’t creak open like last time. With everything going on, there hasn’t been time to just talk with her. Especially given how Adama seems to think she’s a traitor.

Eris isn’t though, much like Juniper, she’s seen too much to willingly go back. She isn’t a traitor, just scared shitless. They all are. But it isn’t an excuse to accuse her, not when she’s hurting too.

The door opens without so much as a dramatic creak this time. Eris has a soft smile on her face, nodding to Juniper. “Oh, June, what’re you doing here?”

“Checking on you, making sure you’re not…yeah.” Neither of them want to talk about the leashbreak. It had to be done, but it’s not pleasant to speak of.

Eris nods, leaning against the doorway, “Don’t think I’ve seen you with hair that long since you first joined up.”

Juniper adjusts her ponytail, ensuring it’s still there. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure, I was just relaxing.” Compared to the last time, Eris’ quarters are clean, nothing out of place. Even her bed has been made. She was always a stickler for routine, keeping her quarters spotless during downtime. Apparently it helped to keep her mind clear. Sounds familiar.

“Really do keep this place spick and span, huh?”

Eris laughs. “A clean room leads to a clear mind. Someone smarter than me probably coined that.” She pulls out a chair, offering it to Juniper, while she sits on the bed. “What’s the real reason you came by? Not like you to just drop by.”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m just checking on my squad?” Juniper cracks a small smile. It’s the truth, even if not the full truth.

“You remind me so much of Laila, back when she was running the squadron.” Eris sighs quietly, “She used to do the same thing, you know? I’d wake up and she was already out the door, giving reassurances to the rest of the squad.”

It feels like an eternity ago now, but Eris and Laila used to be an item. What happened to them, who knows. Juniper never asked, because it wasn’t her concern. It was before she came along though, or maybe a little after, hard to say.

“Yeah, I remember her doing that a few times, up until it was just us.” Juniper leans over in her seat, fidgeting with her dog tags. She wants to say something about encountering Laila again, but can’t bring herself to say it.

Too many things are starting to make sense, which is terrifying in and of itself. The info broker they used is dead, meaning the one possible lead as to who could have sold out Wardog is dead with them. It begs the question, could Laila have done it? If she’s—No, Juniper can’t even begin to think that.

Even if it’s possibly the truth, she can’t find it within herself to unravel that thread.

“Today’s my death day, you know?” Eris quietly breaks the silence. “Two years ago to the day, I died. Or, I should have.”

“We mourned you, you know? After we established Volterra, we mourned you and the rest of the fallen.” Juniper sighs heavily. “We should have known Sabac was a trap, but we got cocky and that led to failing to do adequate recon.”

Eris places a hand on Juniper’s shoulder. “We were all cocky. It looked like we had the Empire on the run, so we got complacent. I replayed that scenario so many times in my head, wondering if we could have won. And honestly? I’m still not sure.”

“What was it like? Those first few days down there.” Out of the corner of her eye, Juniper thinks she saw something metallic on the floor. Except there’s nothing there, on a second look. She’s probably just tired.

Eris grimaces at the question, “I was in a lot of pain. Like you, Epsilon offered to take it away. Sure, I refused at first, wanted to bite, scream, whatever would help me resist Her, but I was tired. Physically, mentally, all of that.” And then, she pauses, closing her eyes, saying nothing, only silently mouthing something. A prayer, perhaps?

“I broke fast, I wanted to have hope that my squad would rescue me, but as the days went on, I knew I was on my own.” She looks ready to cry, but steels herself. “She was my everything. Until I was sentenced to life underneath the mask.”

Juniper hangs her head low and once again something metallic glints softly. She’s losing it, of course. “I’m sorry, Eris, I can’t begin to imagine what you went through. If we succeed in this mission—“

Eris stops her with a gesture. “I know, there’s a lot at stake, but hey, maybe it’s not too late to save Laila.”

“…I encountered her, you know? Few weeks back, when I was intercepting an unknown, it was the same mech that shot me down once. Except, the Wardog was on its chest.” Juniper rubs her temples, sitting up straight again.

“Mm, I figured as much. You never said a word about it, but it was written all over your face. Your theory about her being a Handler is probably right, you know? Hounds like us aren’t assigned designations.” Silence fills the air. Leading Juniper to an uncomfortable truth: of course Laila has to be a Handler. It’s the only thing that makes sense after their meeting in Gormo.

If any of that was even real. It’s difficult to tell.

The question is though, how long has she been a traitor for? Gods, this has to be a sick joke, right? They had a dream and everything. Was it all just a fucking lie to her?

“Yeah, I…I know.” Juniper wants to desperately break down from a panic attack, but now isn’t the time. She’s cried enough, it’s time to be strong for everyone depending on her.

The room goes silent with neither wanting to speak on uncomfortable truths. A room of traitors speaking of another one, the irony isn’t lost on her. Eris is suspected of being a traitor, but they most likely also suspect Juniper. Hell, probably all of Wardog at this point. Why else would they be paired together?

Two ex-hounds, an ex-Imperial, a headcase and a mutineer. It all makes fucking sense.

As much as she wants to believe in the rebellion's cause, does it matter at this point? Maybe it’s just cynic in her, but she can’t find reason to care. When this next mission is done, she’s thought of quitting, but the rebellion is all that’s left for her out there.

“Tell me something, June?”

“Yeah?”

Eris takes a long drawn-out pause, “Why spare me? When you aimed at me in the cells, you had a chance to end me, why not take it?”

“Same reason I spared you in the field. Because at the end of it, that’s what she would have wanted. You’re a Wardog. Like it or not, we’re stuck together.” Juniper smirks.

They both share a laugh, before Eris pulls her into a hug. “For what’s it worth, I’m glad you did. My head has felt clear for the first time in a long time, since you broke my leash. Maybe it’ll give us a fighting chance to survive?”

“Maybe.”

It’s as Juniper turns her head, that she notices something peculiar half-buried underneath a jumpsuit. Metallic bars, leather straps, it’s a muzzle. Her muzzle.

That can’t be right, she’s seeing things. Yeah, she’s just losing her fucking mind, it’s not real. It never is.

“I should check on Vera before the mission, gods know how rattled she’ll be about all this.” Juniper gives Eris a fake smile before walking out.

But if it were real, why would Eris have it? She shouldn’t even know it existed, let alone where to find it. It has to have been planted, that’s the only thing that makes any sense. Or Juniper has well and truly lost her mind.

Eris isn’t a traitor, no matter what’s been said, she can’t be. They’ve fought too hard to be free of Epsilon’s influence. It’s some sort of trick or something.

Juniper shakes the thought out, stopping outside of Vera’s door. There's a familiar song playing, that she can't quite remember the lyrics to. It has a catchy beat, but the lyrics are all muddy for some reason. After a loud knock on the door, no one answers, leaving her standing there, looking like an idiot.

No matter how many times Juniper knocks, Vera never answers. Maybe she fell asleep drinking herself stupid to music?

***

It’s cramped and noisy in here. By far the worst part of hitching a ride on transport planes, is how noisy they are. Never mind how fucking cold it is in here. Gods, Juniper is glad she brought her jacket with her. She usually manages to fall asleep during takeoff to help with her nerves, but no such luck today.

Instead, she’s leaning over a railing, staring down at the mechs kneeling in the red light of the cargo bay. Parachute packs have been attached to the backs of each mech to help facilitate a landing. No landing strips below, and even if there was one, they’ll be deep in enemy territory soon. It would be suicide.

She wishes she could light up a smoke right now, but that would be moronic. Instead she settles for fidgeting with the lighter in her pocket. It’s almost time for the drop, which means she should probably start the briefing.

With a groan, Juniper stops leaning over the railing and cracks her neck, walking back into the cabin where the rest of the squad has already assembled. Mara and Eris are talking about something, while Vera is trying to sleep and Aurora seems to be staring off into space. This is definitely her squad.

Juniper clears her throat, staring down the rest of Wardog. Call it a lack of trust, but command decided that she should handle the briefing in mid-air, so as to avoid any possible information leaks. The paranoia over this operation will get everyone fucking killed.

“Listen up, I’m only going over this once, so pay attention.” Behind her is a map marked with various locations of the area they’ll be dropping into. She grabs a laser pointer, pointing it at the map. “We’ll be dropping in here at Point Alpha.” It’s a forest, or what’s left of one. Patrols are expected to be minimal.

She moves the laser upwards, across a circled area on the map. “This mission will be a two pronged attack. Alpha Team will be responsible for searching for the enemy base. This will be strictly recon, we have not been authorized to attack it just yet.”

“And Beta?” Vera leans back in her chair, arms folded against her head.

Juniper shoots Vera a look of ‘shut up’. “If you’d let me finish, I’ll explain. Beta will be securing our foothold in the old city of Tarsus. Problem is, we don’t know what to expect in terms of ground resistance. We’re going in blind.”

Remembering Tarsus sends a shiver down her spine. The Empire launched gas attacks on the populace as a show of strength. The survivors were the unlucky ones, faced with gods only know what diseases.

“So what’s our game plan, cap?” Aurora says, hunching over in her seat. “How are we supposed to ensure they don’t spot us and immediately send every last mech they’ve got our way?”

Juniper runs a hand through her hair, keeping herself together. “That’ll be Mara’s job. Selene has been given an extensive overhaul to provide a greater range of jamming. Mara, if you would.” Juniper nods to her lieutenant to take over.

“Right.” Mara stands, taking her place up front next to Juniper. “Alpha Team will be myself and Aurora, I’ll be handling the actual recon, while she’ll be giving me backup. Beta, Captain Sladek, Eris and Vera, you’ll be handling the loud part. To preserve the element of surprise, we will be maintaining radio silence, until such a time as we have control of Tarsus.” She paces nervously around the small room, hands in her jacket pockets. “They’ve got surveillance out there in those ruins, meaning Beta? You’ll be taking it down.”

“Simple, so what’s the catch?” Aurora interjects again.

“…Those dog mechs originate from the base near Tarsus.” Juniper quietly says it counting backwards in her head. “We have zero intel on them, but they have only a dozen—if even that— units left. That’s why we were selected. We’ve got the most experience dealing with them.”

Vera practically falls out of her seat in surprise. “Wait, you’re, you’re fucking joking right? So we have to worry about patrols and those fucking things eating us alive!?”

Juniper nods. “Keep them at range, so that they can’t attack. Use all means of cover to eliminate them, I don’t care how you do it, but these things have been eating our convoys alive.” She sighs quietly, wishing she didn’t have to lead this briefing. “They’re primarily spotter mechs for a sniper unit designated Argus, but all intel believes Argus has been deployed elsewhere.”

“Argus!? So what, those fuckers stole whatever remained of Nyx’s mech!?” Vera practically spits, clenching her fist tight.

“Glass, I understand your rage, but it’s coincidental at best. It’s the same mech that we encountered in Volterra twice over.” Juniper wants to scream, because she knows full well it’s Laila. And she knows Laila will be there one way or another. “After we deal with their surveillance systems in Tarsus and the dog-mechs, we’ll rendezvous at Point Charlie—“ She points the laser to the outskirts of Tarsus, where the Empire can’t track them. “Charlie will serve as our makeshift camp for the duration of this half of the operation. The Empire can’t track us out there once we’ve rid them of their surveillance.”

“One other thing I’d like to clarify though: Intel is useless against the Empire. Expect ugly surprises.” Juniper lean back against the wall. "Questions?”

Eris shakes her head, remaining silent. If she’s the traitor, she’s doing a good job of not letting anyone know.

“Just one, captain.” Aurora raises a hand. “Why us? Sure we have experience in fighting those dogs, but why?”

“On the outside, we’re the perfect propaganda tool. A bunch of irregulars working together, what better way to show how justified the rebellion is? You’ve seen the posters with my face on it. Hell, you’ve probably seen some with my wife’s face on them.” Juniper grips her dog tags tightly, counting backwards yet again.

She pauses, fiddling with her lighter. “Truth is, we’re the fuck-ups, the ones they want assigned to the dirty missions. We get results, and that’s what matters in the end. All five of us have been through hell, we’ve danced with death and made it to the other side. And personally? Let them think what they want about us, we’ll be leading the charge into Aurelia.” Gods, the nicotine cravings are hitting harder than normal.

Five minutes to drop point, The voice of one of the pilots announces over the PA.

“That’s our cue to get going.”

One by one the five pilots of Wardog get up, exiting into the dark flight deck of the aircraft. Juniper is the last to leave, closing the door behind her and staring into the cockpit.

“Hey, captain, give ‘em hell out there, we’re counting on you.” One of the pilots says. They’re dressed in black, wearing night vision goggles.

“Yeah, can do.” She responds, walking out into the cargo bay. It’s bigger than the one from the previous Aurelia operation. The cargo bay is bathed in a green light. Helps with night vision, since it’s pitch black out there.

Mara is waiting for her next to Ixion Stryx, a soft smile on her face as as she pulls Juniper into a tight hug. “You ready for this, June?”

She shakes her head. “Not in the least bit, but I’ll be fine. See you on the ground?”

Mara plants a kiss onto her CO’s lips, holding it there for what seems like minutes. “Yeah. I love you," she says, beaking the kiss and climbing aboard Selene.

“Love you too.”

Climbing into the open cockpit of her mech, Juniper sighs softly. As the hatch closes and envelopes her in darkness, the startup sequence initiates. A cable inserts itself into her neural hook, combining her consciousness with that of her better half. Her vision cracks and falters momentarily from her brain creating a link with Ixion Stryx. This part used to be so painful, made her head feel like it was about to split open. The thing is though, she no longer feels the pain.

She doesn’t feel anything.

She ties her hair back into a small ponytail, running a hand through it. hen, with a blink of her eyes, Juniper Sladek melts away. Hound is in control once more

Five reactors begin to simultaneously boot, erupting into a symphony of noise which overtakes the loud hum of the aircraft engines. An overhead switch is flipped and the still-booting monitors switch to night vision, illuminating the cockpit in a dim green glow.

Lights from the main camera illuminate the makeshift hangar, scanning, searching, fading away seconds later. Systems check reads green across the board, meaning it’s showtime. Empire won’t know what hit ‘em, when Wardog are done with them.

Juniper hums softly, removing her bloody dog tags and wrapping them around her left throttle stick. She’s not going to die this time, because there are four other people here who are depending on her. Somewhere down there, the person she loves more than anything is waiting for her.

Wardog, you are clear for launch. Conditions are pretty shitty out there, good luck!

Air rushes inward from the cargo bay doors opening. Ixion Stryx is the first to launch, sparks flying as it speeds down the rails of the transport. Juniper grabs hold of her throttles, squeezing them tightly and closing her eyes to let the force of launch pass. One by one, each mech slides down the rails of the transport, free falling into the night sky.

With a soft exhale, she opens her eyes and stares at the dark abyss that her team are currently plummeting into. As long as they all remember their training, it should be fine.

Ten seconds to parachute deployment.

Ten…

Nine…

Juniper hums a tune to herself, head bobbing to a sound only she can hear. She doesn’t know what the song is, only that the base radio has been playing it frequently.

Eight…

Seven…

Ixion Stryx shakes, plummeting through into a thunderstorm system below. Rain rounds against the metal frame, bolts rattle and she relaxes in her seat. Thunderstorms always help to relax her for whatever reason.

Six…

Five…

Lightning strikes the mech, shorting the monitors for a brief moment. It happens on occasion, Ixion Stryx is built tougher than that and a lightning strike won’t kill her baby. At worst it messes with the systems for a split second, but that’s it.

Four…

Three…

Juniper flips an overhead switch, beginning deployment of the parachute. In two seconds it should deploy and then the motors should fire. Except, after those two seconds have passed, the parachute fails to deploy. The lightning strike must have fried the connection between it and the mech itself. It’s a jury-rigged system based on extremely old tech, no surprise there.

Looks like it’s time for Plan B.

Two…

With a hiss, the parachute system detaches from the back of Ixion Stryx, plummeting towards the ground. She flips another switch, unfolding and extending the six wings of her machine. No point in wasting precious flight time right now, which is why she isn’t flying: She’s gliding. Juniper pulls back on the controls, letting the wings of her mech catch air.

One…

Reverse thrusters fire as soon as the mech’s legs touch ground. She wipes away a bead of sweat from her forehead, groaning. Fuck's sake, this is why she doesn’t trust shoddy old equipment. At least the other four haven’t had any trouble. They each hit their mark, parachutes firing old rocket motors to slow their descent.

Fuck, if she weren’t in the middle of a mission, Juniper could almost kiss the ground. But instead, she runs a hand through her hair yet again, sighing loudly.

They’ve touched down in whatever remains of an old forest. Once full of life, it’s been mostly reduced to a graveyard. Some trees still remain, but they’re scattered, few in numbers. Old corpses of mechs are prevalent the deeper in they go. It’s enough to make her want to vomit.

This is what the Empire did to her homeland. She never wanted to return here, not after their last mission. Command seems to think they’ll be able to just waltz and fight back the Empire. Aurelia may not be very big, but it’s nothing like the country she grew up in.

In towns like this one, everything is dead and the land is forever scarred. All that remains of a once thriving civilization are buildings that will someday soon crumple. There is no life here, only skeletons.

If not for the neural hook in her neck helping to facilitate the shift between the halves, she would have given into the anxiety long ago. Instead, her mind is a calm place. Yes, she wants to vomit seeing old mech carcasses lying everywhere. No one is perfect.

The five units of Wardog split off heading to their respective targets. If not for the radio silence, she imagines Vera would be getting into an argument over who knows what. Mara would be trying to focus on the mission, as a whole. While Aurora and Eris would probably not say much.

Rain continues to pour down as it has been for the last while. If Juniper listens closely, she can hear the sound of it pitter-pattering against her steel body. At least this means managing heat won’t be as big a concern.

She relaxes back in her seat, paying more attention to the sounds of her mech, than to the screen. Just the simple noise of its servos as feet touch ground. It’s a beautiful thing to hear in its own way and takes an attachment to your machine to truly appreciate. A typical Doru pilot wouldn’t find the beauty in it, because each unit is identical.

To find the beauty in the sounds of a mech takes someone who has fought and bled with their beast. How are you supposed to appreciate it, when you’ve never lost one of your steel limbs, or come close to death, only to survive by the skin of your teeth? You can't.

It’s why Juniper loves Ixion Stryx. Even if on the outside, it’s a brand-new machine, underneath that armor lies the same mech she had built all those years ago.

A radar warning spikes across her monitor, snapping her from relaxation. Looks like her prey caught on earlier than expected. Time to spill some blood.

Without wasting even a second, she lets loose the throttle, listening to that reactor purr. “Time to get busy, Wardog, we’re on!” She says to no one in particular, being as they’re still adhering to radio silence.

Ixion Stryx blasts towards the enemy signature, she extends the scythe and grips it in Ixion Stryx’s hands. The blade glows red-hot from the systems rerouting excess heat to it. Her first target is a Doru, firing its shitty machine gun at her as if that’d make a difference. With one swing of the red-hot blade, it slices through the center of the Doru, leaving behind a corpse in its wake.

Oddly enough it was only the one hostile. Radar isn’t reading any other hostile signatures.

Fuck, they’re walking into an ambush, aren’t they? She kills her mech’s speed, bringing it to a standstill.

As soon as Ares and Helios catch up to her, she switches to short-range comms. It’s time to switch up their strategy. If it’s an ambush the Empire wants, then who are they to spoil the fun? “It’s too quiet out here. Call it a bad feeling, but I think we’re walking into an ambush.”

So then what, abort operation? Vera laughs, 'Cause I didn’t jump out of a fucking plane just to turn around.

Juniper rolls her eyes. “Who said anything about that? They’ll be waiting to ambush us, so we just have to turn the tables.”

What are you planning, June? Eris’ soft voice comes over the comms, saving her from listening to more of Vera’s idiotic laughter. If it’s what I’m thinking it is, then it’ll work.

They go back years; If Eris didn’t know exactly what plan Juniper had in mind, she’d be suspicious. Instead, Juniper's smirking, folding her arms against her stomach. “Pretty simple, really. I’ll play bait, draw in whatever’s lurking, and you two clean up.”

Sladek, you’re a fucking lunatic, godsdamn I love it. Vera cackles annoyingly, but seems to agree with the plan.

Eris on the other hand remains silent, only giving a Wardog 4 acknowledged in response to the plan. Just like old times, then.

With the flicking of two switches, Ixion Stryx launches upward, hovering above the ground while its wings spread out. “We’re not far from the city at this point, I’ll get started on the distraction, you two follow behind. Adhere to radio silence, until I give the order.”

Juniper opens up the throttle about halfway, saving most of her mech’s power for when it’s actually needed. Soaring through the sky, a content feeling washes over her, even as the rain continues to pound against the mech. Reminds her of the old days when it was just her and Laila. Argos at its fastest could never keep up with Ixion though, far too bulky and underpowered.

Ixion Stryx pulls back into a hover atop the old city of Tarsus, its wings shimmering red as the energy pulsates from the wings. There are no enemy contacts in radar range, which is odd. This is supposed to be where the enemy forces would be concentrated, but there’s…nothing. “Wardog One to squad, disregard radio silence. There’s…nothing here. ETA?”

Should be there in five, are you picking up zero contacts as well? Eris’ calm voice has a hint of nerves to it now, thinking the same thing they’re all thinking: there’s something else here.

“…Yeah.” Juniper gulps hard, fighting back a panic attack. Now isn’t the time to get scared. She kicks the throttle into high gear, once more sending her mech horizontal. No matter how many times she flies through the city, nothing comes over radar. It’s troubling to say the least.

Ixion Stryx gently touches down on whatever remains of an old road, venting out heat as it does so. The city is too quiet for her liking and the supposed surveillance system is nowhere to be seen. Fuck, it’s been one misdirection after another lately, hasn’t it? Rebel intel is slipping.

Gods, she wants to punch something right now. They’re fucking her over at every turn, aren’t they? Leaves Juniper to wonder if any of this was even looked into, or if—

Multiple radar contacts suddenly appear on-screen and are moving fast.

June, something’s coming, can’t get a bead on what exactly. Be advised it’s headed your way.

And here she was pissed off that she had no dance partner. Looks like she was wrong.

Ixion Stryx assumes a defense stance, ready to swing its scythe at whatever comes her way. Radar is showing six contacts, but no ID on them. Too many possibilities.

Good, let them come.

Systems get an immediate lock on the first hostile that bounds around a corner. A dog-mech, another one of the fuckers who just about killed her last time. So be it.

Two wires fire from the sub-arms, implanting themselves into the short legs of the dog-mech. Juniper redlines the throttle, slicing through its thinly armored body with ease. With a hiss both wires retract, leaving only a corpse in its wake. Ixion Stryx goes airborne, hunting for its next target.

Call it a grudge, but she absolutely despises these fucking things. The last time she stared down these feral beasts, she blinked first. Hesitation almost got her killed. She won’t hesitate this time.

Rounding a corner, another dog-mech lunges for the hovering Ixion Stryx, slammed against the ground by a rifle shot to the head. She knows how to deal with dogs. It’s just a matter of showing who’s in charge. They’re nothing compared to her, just minuscule pests.

A loud deafening howl screeches across the airwaves, sending a chill down her spine.

She can see it so clearly from the air, dogs everywhere. Easily half a dozen of them coming from every corner, quickly approaching her position. Juniper’s pissed them off with her fireworks. Good.

As far as she can tell, Argus remains nowhere to be seen. But it’s here, it doesn’t take an insane escaped hound to know that. Watching from the shadows, waiting for Juniper to slip up.

Right now there's only one thing on her mind: Revenge. These half-sized bastards killed Ixion and she wants vengance for it. Laila can wait until after these dogs are dead.

Chest vulcans rounds fire from Ixion Stryx, forcing the dogs to scatter, giving it just enough space to land. They have feral drive of a hound, but they lack Hound’s tactical acumen. She draws the scythe, slicing through one target while the rest of the pack circles her.

There’s more howling over the comms and she wants so desperately to howl back to assert herself, but no. Neither half of Juniper gives into that temptation, saving their animalistic rage for these dog-mechs.

For every one of them she takes down, another takes its place, there’s no end to them. But even worse, that howling is getting louder. It’s not coming from the dogs, of course not. Radar is picking up another hostile inbound and moving fast.

These are the same dogs she fought at Volterra, there’s no doubt about it. They even fight the same: no rhythm, not even a sense of self-preservation. Just endless charging, as if they were actual beasts.

The dog-mechs lunge at her, trying to rip open the reactor shielding. Juniper laughs wildly, gripping Ixion Stryx’s scythe with both hands. Just as they close in on her, she throws the throttle wide open, dancing around the quadrupedal mechs, swinging the scythe clean through three more dogs.

Something is different about these dogs that’s hard to pin down. On the surface, they’re acting the same, just as aggressive as before. But there’s something off about them. Maybe it’s the lack of Argus sniping?

Missile warnings light up the cockpit, forcing her to take Ixion Stryx airborne. Just as the missiles should impact, flares dispense from the back of the mech, causing the missiles to veer off course. It gives her time to throw the stick into a wild turn, causing the edges of her vision to go black.

Of course they’re acting as spotters for something else. Dammit.

“Eris, Vera, sitrep!?” There’s still another hostile contact on radar that’s closing in fast and she has no eyes on friendlies. It’s too early to go down in a blaze of glory, unfortunately, so she settles for the next best thing: Speeding towards the new hostile with every last ounce of thrust. The dogs are still chasing after her, but they’re easy enough to lose in the air.

Fucking dogs came out of nowhere! They’re pinning us down! That familiar anger of Vera’s is welcomed at a time like this.

Juniper fights back a growing urge to scream out of frustration. There is, however, no time, as more missile warnings light up her HUD, forcing her to deal with that now. Another round of flares are popped and she dives headfirst towards the ground.

“Dealing with my own problem here, I’ll assist when I can – how bad is it!?” Right as she touches ground she comes face to face with what she’s up against: Another Aspis. Fuck, that has to be the source of the howling too. “I’ve got a fucking Aspis over here, could use your assistance!”

Fine, if they want to dance with death, who is she to say no?

We’re dealing with one of our own, we’ll rendezvous ASAP.

Her scythe is changed out for the linear rifle, immediately spinning up a round. This won’t kill it, but it will piss it off, which is what she wants. Moving around Aspis with the ease of a gymnast, Ixion Stryx fires a charged round through the core plating of Aspis. That predictably doesn’t work, minor damage thanks to the insane amount of plating.

There’s another loud, hostile snarl over the comms that makes Juniper laugh like she’s lost her mind. Confirms everything she needs to know: it’s angry. Without a second to waste, Ixion Stryx is airborne again, pulling into a steep angle climb.

A few klicks to the west there’s an old skyscraper still in relatively decent condition. She remembers seeing it in the intel briefings. As long as it can hold for her plan, she might just be a genius.

Missiles and flak predictably light up the rainy night sky, but they don’t stop her. Flares deploy and she’s going evasive, weaving through the anti-air defenses just barely evading them. For her plan to work, she’s going to need to pull out every trick she’s got.

Wires fire from the sub-arms into the steel frame of the skyscraper, landing atop the roof and setting her mech down into a kneeling position. Have to hope this holds, because she’s certain she just heard a crack. Cooling vents gape open, sucking in the cold rainy air. It’s quiet enough up here that she can hear the slight hiss as the rain hits the hot vents.

Ixion Stryx’s heat signature is rapidly dissipating, meaning that Aspis has no way to track her with its heat-seeking missiles. Juniper exhales a sharp breath, spinning up the linear rifle for its next attack. She’s gone cold, but Aspis is still burning bright, painting a big target just for her.

Just a little longer…Come on, you ugly bastard, get in the firing line…

With a squeeze of her dog tags, the rifle erupts and a shot tears free from the barrel, screeching downwards towards her prey. The tungsten-carbide round penetrates deep through the Aspis’ leg, but its still standing. All part of the plan.

Ixion Stryx stands, releasing its cables and leaping off the roof of the building and into a free fall. The wings sweep back from the extreme speed, with the mech pulling into a horizontal glide. Before Aspis can even hope to counter, her wings release a set of feathers that hurtle downwards towards the extra-large mech. In no time flat, that thick armor has a few new holes in its legs and back.

Its pilot is growling over the open comm channel, sending Juniper into hysterics. “C’mon, you stupid mutt, you’re up against a hound. At least give me a challenge before I send you to hell!” She taunts and fires another linear rifle shot straight through the newly made hole in its left leg.

Gliding towards Aspis, two wires launch from the sub-arms, small thrusters keep them on track until one slams into its back, with the other carrying the scythe that slices its leg clean through, severing it at the knee. The wires pull taut just as Ixion Stryx’s reverse thrusters deploy, slowing her descent and making her laugh even more. It’s over, the enemy mech collapses face first onto the ground, unable to move.

Even with the damage taken, it refuses to die already. Whatever weapons are still active on its back spin up, but fail do anything as a final rifle shot ends the attempt for good. Aspis goes quiet, not even a howl over the comms anymore. If there are any dog-mechs left, they’ve fled.

“Eris, Vera, status!? I got held up with a probl—“ There’s…a song playing over comms. She…she recognizes this song, doesn’t she? It’s the same song that’s been stuck in her head for weeks now.

Yet for the first time, she can hear the lyrics so clearly. Come on June, I’m waiting for you.

Laila?

June, what’s going on!?

No, it…it can’t be. Juniper’s losing it, that’s it. She punches herself in the gut to regain what little sanity she seems to possess. But she hears Laila’s voice yet again.

I miss you, June. Come back to me.

She blinks a few times, rubbing her eyes and suddenly she’s…she’s just Juniper again. Her head feels foggy, her entire body is sore, but for some reason she knows where she needs to go.

Captain Juniper Sladek respond! Sitrep!?

Ixion Stryx touches down, walking northbound until she comes across an all too familiar mech kneeling outside of what appears to be an old cafe. The building itself is intact, which while surprising, doesn’t give her time to admire. Right now there’s something important she has to do.

Juniper sets Ixion Stryx down into a kneel and opens the hatch. Once the cable disconnects from her implant, she unwraps the dog tags from her left throttle stick, putting it around her neck once more. With a soft sigh, she jumps onto the lowered hand of her mech. It’s still pouring, but that doesn’t matter to her right now, because there’s someone waiting for her.

Laila.

She’s wearing a black uniform, accented with white stripes across the collar and cuffs. The unmistakable uniform of an Imperial Officer. That doesn’t matter right now though, because she runs up to Juniper, immediately pulling her into a tight hug, practically crying onto her lover’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, June. I wish we could have met sooner.”

Juniper, however, can only stare in shock. This is some ghost, some bullshit made-up thing of Epsilon's. It has to be. She pushes the creature wearing her wife’s face away, pointing a gun at her. “Who are you really?”

A sigh. Laila throws her hands up into a surrender. “June, I know you’re on edge, but none of what’s happened was my idea. I'll prove to you that I'm real: We fell in love two years ago. You told me you loved me by taking me up in Ixion to show me the full moon. I remember our dream, countryside and all. I promise you, Junebug, I’m real.”

“You really are real, aren’t you? No one knew that nickname but you.” Juniper holsters her gun back into her jacket. “I’m sorry, it’s been…a lot lately. But you’re…you’re really real.” Emotions long since repressed finally break their way to the surface and she holds Laila tightly, bawling her eyes out. “I love you Lails, I never stopped loving you.”

“I know.” Laila caresses her love’s face, kissing her cheek.

“You’re not…a hound, right? Epsilon didn’t capture you and break you into another obedient dog? Because I—“

Laila shushes her anxious partner, kissing her lips. “No, of course not. I’m a Handler.”