Note: Jesus I am really sorry that this took over a goddamn year to post. I'd bore you with the fine details, but suffice to say my computer broke, I lost a lot of stuff, and I'm just now getting things back on track. I know you don't want to hear my lame excuses; y'all came here to read. So have at and thanks a bunch.

Chapter 12: Chill Time

Before long, a small fleet of dropships arrived; landing all around the now zerg-free crash site, the rescue team as well as the crew and commander of the Norad II were picked up and shuttled back to the primary Sons of Korhal command center. Duke and his boys were naturally sent to the infirmary, just to confirm they were in tolerable physical health, whilst 507 and all the marines were given a moments rest and allowed to step out of their combat suits.

Since their liberation, the Antigan forces had moved the majority of their military armaments to Mengsk's hidden camp, making his base of operations far more substantial and sprawling, adding in new military recruits as well as civilian contractors to build up his headquarters with fortifications and defenses.

Of course, said force was still little more than a rebel band, with an assortment of military units ranging from civilians in power armor, ragtag militia, and a few low grade ground vehicles. His fleet was mainly made up of transport ships, fighters and freighters. However, the addition of the Blood Hawks, as well as their asshole of a commander went a long way in boosting the Sons of Korhal's moral and would significantly pump up their military strength.

But incorporating such an expansive unit into the ragtag rebel force was going to take time; combining units of new soldiers with the current marines, transferring technology and data between a vast fleet of ships, an undoubtedly enormous amount of transcript paperwork to be filled out, in addition to probably another dozen procedures to be completed. Adding in that the Blood Hawks were the only real Confederate forces out on the fringe worlds, with them now allies, there wasn't currently a real opposition for the Sons of Korhal to fight against at the moment.

As a result only a few token platoons were kept on guard duty around the base camp, rotating every few hours, whilst the majority of the soldiers were given leave to be at ease. Considering their exemplary contributions and accomplishments in the campaign to rescue Duke and his men, 507 and the Troopers were among those that were allowed to unwind.

As the battered and battle-weary marines stumbled into the barrack, they nearly started brawls to be the first to get their armor removed, anxious to take a leak, take a nap, or get some chow. Logan wanted out of his suit to, but he wasn't all that interested in getting a metal fist in the face for his troubles. But that was before he realized that being a part of 507 gave him and the others special privileges. He watched as Colt, Gunner, and the others brush past the crowds, moving to the head of the lines for armor disassembly, with the throng of soldiers not even making a peep of objection.

Apparently by merely shooting a dark glare to the green rookies and militia flunkies, who were technically as new to combat as he himself was, Logan was able to get them to back away and let him pass. As a result of this perk, Logan and the members of 507 were among the first out of their combat suits, moving to the locker room to recover their civilian clothes and personal effects. As they changed, there was certainly a very hot topic circulating, stemmed from the results of the last mission.

"So…what?" Gunner asked around, haphazardly pulling bio-plugs from his skin, "We got them Blood Hawks joinin' us now? Shit, only a couple of days ago we were blastin' the sons of bitches. We just gonna open up our arms an' say "welcome boys!"? That don't sound real smart ta me. I doubt that asshole Duke meant even half of the crap he said. Just tryin' ta get his ass outta the fire."

"Less than that probably," Chaz surmised, "I've never believed one word outta that yahoo."

"So what's the plan?" Quentin demanded, "We're gonna get outta our suits and chill? An' what if Duke decides ta screws us all over while we got our dicks in hand…I don't like that idea…what's the move?"

"The next move's up ta the higher ups ta fuck with; what we gotta do is start fillin' the ranks," Marcus informed them, running a hand over his matted fuzzy hair before plopping a ball cap on, "All that political jargon is somethin' we ain't got no say in. We may not like it, but we're soldiers sent out ta kill and be killed. There ain't no gettin' round that fact. So instead of obessin' 'bout what's gonna be happenin' at the big boys table, we need ta look at our own personal situation, as a unit. We're two men down here, like it or not; shit old man Beranger is down six or seven. If we're still gonna be the most hard-ass unit when shit hits the fan, then were gonna need the most crazy fucked up freaks that we can find to make us a dozen strong again."

"If we keep fighting the zerg like we've been doing," Logan commented, "then the crazier the better."

"I'd say that it's more than a possibility that we will be. I don't think them roaches are just gonna crawl inta a nearby hole and disappear. An' we'll just assume that by some goddamn miracle that Duke wasn't lying through his teeth an' will be joinin' forces with us. That bein' said our selection of marine choices has just increased a ton."

"I say we pick that Mills guy," Burk interjected his opinion, "If he is who he says he is, then he'd fit right in with us. Hell, reading about that shit he pulled on Tarsonis…even got me a little weirded out."

"Well if that don't beat the bush-monkey's balls,' Cyrus hooted, nudging Burk with an elbow, "I didn't know you could read."

"Fuck…you."

"An' that guy you boys were talkin' about," Marcus went on, looking at Logan and Johnny, "If he's that bad, he might be a good fit too."

"Better be quick about it Marcus," Colt advised, throwing on his regular clothes and lacing up his boots, "We need only two but if ya don't put yer pick fer candidates in early, someone like that crusty bastard Beranger will swipe all the good lunatics."

"Yer damn right I will," as Beranger himself strode past, flanked by Harvey Webber. He was already out of his suit, smoking a cigarette and heading out to the briefing room, "Don't think you ladies are the only ones that got owned out there. My Troopers are gonna need some new meat right quick."

"I got yer new meat right here ya old fart," a smart-ass Antigan boy named Charlie Turner hollered, using his still armored hand to grab hold of his bare crotch and give it a squeeze, a risky operation indeed. Beranger scowled and spat in the kid's general direction before moving on.

As each man finished changing, they moseyed out, splitting up and going their own way. There was no telling how long their downtime was going to last, a few hours probably, a few days, highly unlikely, so each man and woman went off swiftly to accomplish whatever aims they had on the brain.

Logan however, not having a whole hell of a lot to do, aside from the usual eat and sleep, made his way to the common room. Common was a very adequate way to describe it. It was a large almost empty space that held a few tables, a couple dozen chairs, three couches, four TV's, and a handful of bar stools, though sadly lacking the bar. This was a place of downtime, for marines that didn't head straight to the mess or retire to their bunks for some sleep. A room dedicated to the playing of cards, swapping of dirty jokes, telling of combat exploits, and just shooting the shit with their fellow soldiers. Logan had visited this room a few times before, more often than not engaging in some cards or just to chill on a couch. This time he noticed the place was more occupied than normal, with a number of marines that he hadn't seen before. Some of Duke's Blood Hawks most likely.

"Yo-ho Stone," came an all too familiar cry, prompting Logan to swivel his eyes round. True to his hunch, it was the infamous Jack Riley, fanatically waving his arm in an attempt to be spotted, "There you fuckin' are! Come on over here ya damn shit, I've been lookin' for ya!" Logan couldn't help but grin, giving his head the slightest of shakes as he strode forward to meet his friend. He sometimes just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that someone who seemed so friendly and gruffly cheerful could be a blood-thirsty crazed killer that was notorious for gouging out men's eyes and slicing off their gentiles if he didn't like them. Takes all kinds, he thought.

"Wonderin' where ya got to," Jack hooted as Logan approached his table, "With all that military bullshit they shove down our throats, I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance to beat yer ass."

"Shit, you know I wouldn't miss out on that, armed forces protocol or not. Although I gotta admit, I didn't think you Blood Hawk boys would be brought into the camp so readily. After all, we were killing you guys less than a day ago."

"Weird how that crap is, ain't it. An' after that sweet-ass rescue you an' yer boys did, we all got shipped over ta this hole for medical examination and "mental reevaluation", whatever that shit means. Then they told us ta just hang out, waiting for the orders from the top brass on what the hell we're gonna be doin' now. Now me, I don't give a good goddamn about who I'm shooting, so long as I'm shootin'. Rebels, Confederates, ugly ass aliens, it ain't no different, it's all good."

"So long as you're not shooting me," Logan told him, "Then I'm good too."

"Damn straight ya are, you've always been good Stone. So good in fact that I wanna introduce you ta some bastards that I've been rollin' with since we got sprung from that shithole prison."

For indeed, Jack wasn't alone at his table, two others sat with him, a man and a woman. The man looked pretty unremarkable if not unsightly, a tall sorta skinny guy, with severely dark brown hair, a gaunt face, semi-sunken eyes, and a somewhat jutting lower jaw, giving him a pooched lethargic look about him. He most certainly was not at all pleasant to look at and his sullen expression seemed to suggest that his demeanor was about as ugly as he was.

The woman however, once Logan looked at her, he couldn't stop looking. She was damn beautiful. Perhaps one of the shortest women he had ever seen, not even five feet tall, she was delightfully slender though perfectly filled, with short yet flowing dirty blonde hair and a set of coy yet firm gray eyes. Though what really drew Logan in to an almost irreversible degree were her lips; they were so soft looking, pouted and supple, with a bright rosy color that reminded him of apricot cherries. He had a hunch that she would taste just as good.

But despite her slight size and almost flawless gorgeousness, he wasn't so enraptured as to not notice that she had a poised and almost lethal look about her; that of a crouching predator who hid exceedingly well the fact that they were easily ten times more vicious than they looked. Regardless, Logan couldn't really tear his gaze away, and though normally he wasn't usually one for gawking, in this instance he really couldn't help himself. Fortunately the lovely lady didn't seem to care; in fact she seemed to be looking back at him in about the same way.

"These are some of the fuckers in my unit," Jack went on, not having ever in his life discovered the fact that not every statement he made needed to be half-shouted, his voice booming and disrupting the calm atmosphere of the common room, "Some tough assholes, though with as much personality as my ass lint."

"Is that how you introduce me…private?" the petite beauty asked, as she reclined back in her chair, giving him a snide smile, "How about a little more refinement when introducing your superiors?"

"Well when ya put it like that ya stuck up bitch, I guess I could make the effort. Stone, this here is Miss Lieutenant Kathryn Vesper, though we just call her Ice cause she's cold as shit…An' I mean that literally too Stone…she's frostier than a piece of frozen shit. Ya ever seen that? Frozen shit? That crap's harder than fuckin' diamonds, seriously. Don't that shit sound fucked up?"

"Savory description as always you ass," Kathryn rolled her eyes, before fixing them upward onto Logan, looking him up and down with a leisurely intrigue.

"Yeah whatever, that refined enough for ya?"

"No, but since this strapping and handsome man now knows who I am, why don't you hurry up and tell me who he is. And how a freak like you has such a normal friend. Or even has a friend at all."

"Ahh ha hah ha, that's fuckin' hilarious ya cold-hearted skank; maybe ya got ta be lieutenant by makin' all them higher ups shit their pants laughin', instead of givin' them a crack at yer crack all the time."

"You get a kick out of calling your commanding officer a slut?"

"If it's true, then hell yeah! And since ya asked real nice, this here is Mr. Logan Stone, a buddy of mine from back in the joint. Kinda a hard-ass but also a sissy boy too. Not like me, no sir, he's a whole different type."

"Logan hmm?" Kathryn seemed to muse, before standing and offering her hand. Logan was amazed that he had almost a foot and a half on her, yet somehow he got the notion that she could put him on the floor in a heartbeat should the mood strike her. He took her hand, so tiny and lithe, but her grip was hardly that of a frail damsel. "Quite the pleasure to meet you, Private Stone."

"The pleasure's most certainly mine," he assured her, "…lieutenant." She gave him an impish smile before casting a hand at an empty chair at their table. "Please…feel free to join our little group of misfits." Logan thanked her and sat down, pretending not to notice that the other man was eyeballing him, though not quite in the same way that Kathryn was.

"Bein' awfully friendly ain't ya?" the ugly man asked her, eyebrow raised. "Normally ya wouldn't have the time'o day fer anyone, least of all a rebel that was shootin' at us only yesterday. How come yer always a heartless bitch with us?" She wrinkled her nose and gave him a snort.

"That's because you and this yob," she jabbed a thumb at Jack, "are both idiots and uncultured goons. A woman needs to have some civility around her. Be it from an enemy or otherwise. I can't very well expect you two rejects to have anything sane or cultured to say about…well anything. Whereas Logan here," she turned back to him resting her chin in a hand, smiling, "Seems to be quite polite and more intelligent than half of the Blood Hawks put together."

"That's goddamn right woman!" Jack interrupted, nudging Logan, "Stone here be smart as fuck an' we'd always save all that nice sissy shit for him. By the way, ya see this asshole over here," Jack pointed to the creepy guy, "this queer is another man from prison, like us. Name's Tommy Green. Ya won't believe some of the shit this fucker's pulled before."

"Tommy Green…I've heard of him," Logan assured Jack, knowing the name. Thomas Green was a killer just like Jack, though lacking in terms of the utter derangement. He was almost more of an assassin mercenary, supposedly very efficient and lethal. Logan had only heard his name on the TV, as they raved about him killing a number of Confederate officials, both military and civilian. I suppose there's no greater revenge than turning an enemy into an ally, Logan thought, not unlike me.

"So why is it just the three of you hanging out?" Logan asked the group, "Where's the rest of your unit?"

"Shit, there ain't no unit no more. We lost a whole ton of guy's to them aliens an' a lot more died in that fuckin' crash."

"And to rebel attacks," Tommy strongly emphasizing the rebel part, making Logan hazard a guess that he wasn't very happy with the joining up with the Sons of Korhal arrangement.

"Those aliens don't have any manners," Kathryn almost pouted, twirling her silky hair as she seemed to recall the past encounters, "They're blood-thirsty, mindless, and they smell awful. Not unlike the remnants of my unit."

"Or mine," Logan concurred, "More balls than brains, but at least they kill zerg exceedingly well."

"Always a plus."

"Yeah," Jack broke in, "I've heard some shit 'bout them, big badasses the lot of'em. An'" he turned a wild grin towards the two with him, "If y'all don't know, I'll tell ya now that y'all won't be keepin' the pleasure of my company much longer. If things turn out good, I'll be joinin' up with Stone's crew here, a bunch of hardasses and killers; I'll feel right at home."

"Don't let the current situation go to your head," Kathryn instructed him, "Nothing's been decided as of yet. For all you know this is just a ploy Duke's using to wipe this place out," she then turned a coy eye over at Logan again, giving him a playful smirk, "If that does happen, I think I'll coming looking for you personally…private."

"Ah hell," Jack all but whined, "That shit ain't fair! I've been tryin' ta get that frigid pussy of yers unlocked for fuckin' weeks now, an' suddenly ya thaw out an' want ta jump all over Stone here and bang his ass. What the fuck?"

"Aside from being handsome and well-spoken? He's nicer and more polite that you. Plus, he doesn't smell as bad and doesn't have the personality of an ass wart."

"Well damn, I can't argue with that, but I'm a hell'va lot tougher," he then reached up and slugged Logan on the arm, "Well, I guess that's just another reason I gotta kick your sorry ass all cross this planet one day Stone. Givin' me funny looks, gettin' into a better unit, gettin' ta kick more ass than me, and now stealin' my pussy; shit, yer gettin' a big ass list there Stone."

"And I'm not even getting started Jacky."

Logan hung out with Jack and company for about an hour, meeting some other Blood Hawks, introducing them to both Marcus and Johnny who came through the common room and just chewing the fat. It was good to talk with Jack again, not to mention being given ample time to openly flirt with the scrumptious Kathryn. Hell, if she had been any other woman, one without an officer's badge, he would have invited her out for a fun time. Her personality seemed to suggest that she would relish the opportunity, but both rank and procedure would most certainly not allow it.

"Military protocol really blows," he grunted as he returned to the barrack. As he had chatted, he felt himself getting tired and finally he had stood and bid them farewell.

"I gotta go. If I don't get some sleep, I'm gonna collapse. I'd best take advantage of this break while I can and catch up on some shuteye."

"Going to sleep?" Kathryn had mischievously sulked, pouting her lips in such a maddening way that it nearly made Logan break down, sweep the elfin woman into his arms and kiss her from Antiga Prime all the way to Tarsonis and back again, "You're no fun."

"Oh I'm a lot of fun. But red tape isn't. I should know."

He found his bunk, nestled in the corner of the room, several other marines already taking it easy and resting as well. It was a dirty mattress that creaked at the slightest of shifts, adorned with stiff coarse blankets that felt akin to sandpaper, but as he lay down, it felt as though it was the most comfortable thing he had rested upon in what felt like seven weeks. Embracing the soft comfort of freedom of sleep, he rolled to face the wall and dozed off.

With him being dog tired after all the crap he had gone through, one would think he would have perhaps lapsed into an exhaustion coma for about a week or so. After all, killing all those zerg, hiking all over the place, and even mentally exercising himself, as everyone seemed to look to him to come up with plans to beat the zerg, was exhausting. Let alone the fact that they had been out in the field doing said activities for somewhere about thirty-six hours, with only about four to five of those hours being for sleep. So while he slept, for some reason or another he wasn't out for a particularly long time, waking back up only two hours later.

Upon opening his eyes, Logan sat up, checking the time and cursing when saw that it wasn't a week later. He cursed even louder when he saw how pitiful an amount had elapsed since shutting his eyes. Unwilling to rise before he was damn good and ready, he lay back down, determined to get a minimum of six hours more before he even considered getting up.

But no matter what he did, short of beating his head against the wall to achieve unconsciousness, no matter what position he took, all the tossing and turning, counting sheep, it did nothing to help him find sweet slumber again.

"Fuck me," he growled, finally admitting defeat, "Even I can't give myself a break."

Leaving his bunk behind, Logan stalked out of the barrack, only to wander between and around the buildings that made up the camp. As he was in transit, he paused to watch incoming dropships land over at the starports, observing as several siege tanks went rumbling by, and noted that a multitude of SCV's were hard at work building up new supply depots and military installations, expanding the base and subsequently, its defenses.

Logan eventually entered the primary command center, which served as the Sons of Korhal's nexus point for all their renegade activity. Normally, only officers and important officials were allowed entry, but Logan found himself in a rather benefited position. Being in 507, he was recognized as a senior member of the marine force, having a substantial amount of experience under his belt, as well as the ability to kick much ass. On these two principles alone, the guards of the command center, upon seeing his unit's insignia on his fatigues, they saluted and let him pass. He returned the salute and went in.

In all honesty, he had no reason to be there; there was no important briefing, no emergency or crisis. His feet had carried him there, for whatever reason. As he strolled down the halls, he paused and passed a few pleasantries with other marines, getting to know certain groups of them, most being Sons of Korhal veterans, a few green looking militia rookies in tow. Also, a few new faces he hadn't seen before, whose uniforms boldly proclaimed the Blood Hawks. As he past them, they nodded his way but didn't greet him with a smile or wave. Tensions and all. Despite that, many of them were carrying duffle-bags and crates, looking like they planned on staying for a time rather than just visiting for a spell.

"Guess Duke's joining up with us after all," Logan commented under his breath. As they past, on he went; the implications of the merger on his mind.

I'd be good to have old Jack in the unit, he said to himself, and maybe with the good general joining us, we aren't as far off from winning this thing. In all honesty, I don't think we would have lasted much longer if this didn't happen. But still, that leaves us with the problem of…

"How's the soldier life treating you rookie?" a distinctly feminine voice asked him. Logan half jumped, thinking himself alone in the hallway, turned around and found himself looking square into a pair of very pretty auburn eyes. Said eyes belonged to a very pretty though equally tough woman, though this knockout was not the same one from back in the common room. This woman however was still right on the same level as the lieutenant in terms of sweet eye candy, yet this one he did know.

"Elisa," he recalled her name, not having seen her since their stay aboard the Mar Sara prison ship; "It's been a while. How are you doing?"

"Hey," she pointed out with a smile, "I asked first. It's only right you answer my question before I answer yours."

"Right," he grinned, "Where are my manners? Well, it's tough, it's stressful, there's not a lot of thanks in for you, and there's always the risk of getting blow up or eaten by aliens. So…could be better I guess, but since I'm not sitting inside a zerg digestion track, it can't be all that bad."

"Yeah it's rough…" her grin slipped a few notches and a shadow slipped over her lovely face. "I…uh heard about your boss…Bennett. Sorry to hear it. He looked like a real soldier."

"He definitely was," Logan agreed, nodding, "The fella's of the unit are taking it pretty hard, harder than I thought a pack of lunatics would. I guess he was more than just their sergeant." He trailed off, then he tilted his head towards her, taking note of a patch on her sleeve.

"Well I'll be damned," he noted with surprise, "So you're in Beranger's Troopers now huh?" as he pointed to the insignia on her uniform, recognizing it as the symbol for the Son's of Korhal's most predominant unit.

"Oh…yeah," she studied her uniform's newest accoutrement, "I was on the list with a couple of dozen marines that were qualified to fill up the holes in the unit. I guess the old man saw something about me that fit what he was looking for. I know he's got high standards, so I figured I must be pretty good to make the cut."

As the two talked, Harvey Webber, the malformed shark-faced goon of a man who was now second in command of the Troopers, came clomping down the hall, pausing for a moment when he overheard them."

"Nah, being good ain't got nuthin' ta do with it, sweet ass," Harvey informed her with a lopsided grin, pointing a black fingernail towards Elisa's breasts, "Yer tits got somethin' ta do with it; the old man's a pervert, he likes ta have marines with a really nice rack in his unit. Course that's just one of yer best features, hot stuff. Maybe ya an' me can get a private debriefin' in later at my place?"

Elisa promptly rolled her eyes, directing her middle finger towards the gawker, making Harvey assume a mock look of fear before strolling off gusting laughter.

"Pigs," she grunted, "Guess I shouldn't be surprised to hear it." She brushed it off before turning back to Logan again. "So where are you heading?"

"Me?" Logan shrugged, "I don't know. I just got up a few minutes ago; I've already been to the common room today…I guess I was just wandering around."

"Well I'm heading to the mess to get something to eat. Want to come with?" An almost guttural howl sounded from Logan's stomach, his own hunger yowling in response to Elisa's invitation.

"Time to feed the beast," he told her sheepishly, "So I guess that's a yes." And off he two marines went, heading to the nearby mess, which was pretty well packed with a whole slew of soldiers. Falling in line, they inched up towards the servers, craning their necks in an attempt to see what could possibly be making the line move so damn slowly.

"I was hearing about you again, you know."

"Huh?" Logan came back to himself, the smell of food making him realize that he was starving. "What?"

"You." Elisa repeated patiently, "I've been hearing about you again. Things you've been up to since we last talked."

"About me? Like what? And from who?"

"From Lieutenant Beranger, leader of the Troopers of course. And I've heard how you stepped up in your last assignment, leading everyone after the zerg, taking charge after you sergeant got killed and whipping your team into a frenzy afterwards."

"Well, we lost Bennett and Daemon to an ambush and the whole crew just sorta…fell apart. I just gave them a pep talk and threw out a few ideas on how to blow the crap out of the zerg without all of us ending up as roadkill. Not really worth mentioning. And certainly not worth other gossiping about."

"I love a man with a sense of modesty," she remarked, "To hear Beranger tell it, Duke and the Hawks would probably be zerg bait if you hadn't rose to the occasion like you did. There's even talk of a promotion for you."

"Okay, now that is way too much credit. I'm just a soldier; I fight when I need to and if the higher-ups need me to come up with a strategy, I'll put out my opinion, not that anyone will listen. I'm nothing special, believe me."

"Don't sell yourself short bro," a young marine ahead of them turned around, grinning, clearly having been eavesdropping, "I was down there too and I know what I saw. Everyone kept coming to you for advice and you were right in the thick of the fighting. Damn, you looked like you were in charge of the operation."

"Thanks kid," Logan gave the young man a salute, kind of flattered that his name was getting around. Elisa watched him.

"Care to change your position now?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope."

They stood in line, watching and waiting. Finally they got close enough to grab a tray and shift down the line of food, taking helping from the sullen faced servers.

"What the hell?" Elisa wrinkled her nose as she looked over the near shapeless gel-like blobs that had been plopped onto her tray, "Is this what they call food? I feel like these things are going to start moving or something. Are we supposed to eat semi-sentient lifeforms?"

"Ah, that's nothing," Logan assured her, "In prison food, you'd be lucky to find only two or three live grubs in your meals."

"And you think that is something you need to tell to a woman right before she eats because…?"

"Because I see it as a sort of informative public service to all."

"Uh huh, well all things considered, I think I'll just have a sandwich." So saying, she spooned her goop onto Logan's tray before snatching up two tuna sandwiches and making a hasty retreat from the chow line, presumably to avoid future questionable sustenance. Logan followed and the two found a semi-empty table, sat, and began to munch on their respective meals.

"So…" Logan rolled his eyes over to the woman next to him, "What have you been up to lately?"

"You mean besides being part of a rebel faction who's trying to break down the largest organized government in the entire sector?"

"Naturally."

"Not much; I've been doing a lot of guard duty, I was part of an escort for Lieutenant Kerrigan, I took part in the attack of the Alpha Squadron strike force…nothing major really."

"Sounds like my service record."

"As if," she scoffed, "I don't have rescuing General Duke of the Blood Hawks and taking down hundreds of zerg on my resume. I'm kinda jealous actually, that a newb like you could already be so distinguished after so short a time."

"It's not being distinguished," he insisted, "It's…merely being in the right situation at the right time."

"Well, happenstance or not, I wish that kind of crap happened to me more often."

"I'll tell you what, the next time a tidal wave of zerg comes rushing in to rend everything limb from limb, I'll trade places with you."

"It's a deal. So, where are you from?"

"You got a lot of questions," Logan grinned at her, "Been saving them up since we last talked or is this an informal interrogation?"

"Neither; I just figured I'd get to know the next commanding officer, that way I'm already in good standing with him and can secure myself a promotion."

"Cunning strategy."

"I like to keep my eyes on my future. So where did you come from? One of those colony boy's on Mar Sara that got set loose after Chau Sara was vaporized?"

"Not hardly. I'm originally from Tarsonis; I came along as a soldier for the Colonial Magistrate that was to oversee the Mar Sara colony. Then I got dragged into this crap, joining up with the Sons of Korhal and…well, Arcturus is trying to bring down the Confederacy. And since I fucking hate their guts, I joined along with the rest of my unit."

"Born and raised on Tarsonis…That's me too. I've been around to other colonies but I liked the city life, more my style. I'd probably still be there, stationed as part of an orbital platform defense unit or something but I was dispatched as part of a roving patrol to the fringe world colonies about three months back along with a few other garrisons. I was stuck at Mar Sara when I ran into the rest of you. I never thought a standard tour of duty would land me into a rebel coalition hell-bent on revolution."

"Yeah, kinda like how I never thought I'd be allowed to leave prison only to jump into a unit of psychos, kill aliens, and then get to turn on the very same sons of bitches who threw me into that hell hole in the first place." Their conversation lapsed, as they both turned to eating, Elisa finishing her first sandwich and moving on to her second, while Logan ate the flavored paste globs that congealed on his tray.

"Now I got a question for you," he broke the silence finally, "after all, I'd think it'd be my turn by now."

"Well, I guess I'll allow it," she conceded jokingly, "Shoot."

"Alright…I was just wondering what twist of fate put you into the marines. A convict like me? Or were you brainwashed by all that Confederate patriot garbage and encouraged to sign up?"

"Neither. I enlisted on my own accord without any cajoling."

"You mean…you just signed up to be in the military…because you just wanted to?"

"That's right."

"Wow," he gave his head a shake, spooning some gunk into his mouth, "The world's a crazy place..."

She gave him a furrowed expression, a half chewed lump of sandwich in her mouth, directing a confused look his way that seemed to ask him, what the hell are you talking about?

"Why's that so crazy?" she demanded.

"It seems strange, that's all. I mean, you probably could have done a lot of things besides this. You seem smarter than about ninety-eight percent of all enlisted soldiers…not to mention you're really beautiful. I mean, just with that you could have been anything really."

"Oh yeah," her eyes rolled, "with my body I could have been a high class hooker on Tarsonis being paid a thousand credits per fuck." Her comment made several pleasing images swirl through Logan's mind, namely Elisa naked on some sprawling bed covered by a thin sheet of silk, her hair fanned out beneath her and a warm satisfied smile on her face. Needless to say, the thought provoked a grin.

"I can see that." Elisa shot a dirty glare over at him, seeing that licentious gleam in his eyes, prompting her to brandish her utensils at him.

"Yeah, keep that up smart-ass and what you'll see next is my fork in your eye."

"Sorry. It's just…well, I don't get it. With all the options that must have been available to you…why choose this? Being a soldier, heading into war zones, possibly getting killed for nothing…I don't know, it just seems weird to me."

"Yeah well, I find it weird that a guy who had been in prison wouldn't be thrilled to do this kind of job, so there you go."

"Wait…what? What the hell does me having been in prison have anything to do with why I should be enjoying this sort of job?"

"Most of the men from my former units were convicts too," Elisa explained, "Some real hardass guy's; killers, thieves, I even knew a former drug kingpin. Most criminals tend to take to violent tasks willingly. Really, it's kinda logical to put a gun into the hands of someone who knows how to use it...provided they've been Resocialized before setting them loose."

"I find it interesting that you keep lumping me together with drug lords and murderers," Logan answered, a bit miffed.

"Well you are a criminal aren't you? That's why you were in prison."

"From what I've seen, there are two types put into jail. The first being the lunatic or felon that actually broke the law and who did something to deserve it. And then the other, people who did nothing save cross the pricks in the Confederacy who thought it best that person disappears for whatever reason. I unfortunately fall into the latter category."

"So…" Elisa's brow furrowed as she pieced together what Logan was saying, "You were convicted of killing…"

"Barkley, Captain William Barkley."

"And you never did?"

"That's right. Supposedly I'd killed him for some undisclosed reason, at least that's what official reports said I believe."

"Undisclosed?"

"That's the Confederate's creative way of saying that they have no plausible reason for why I'd kill him, yet still pinning the blame on me nonetheless. In truth, I was railroaded for exposing a Confederate genetics operation. I had uncovered it accidentally in another assignment I was on and I learned that…well, a real close friend had been hauled off there. So I went after her, causing a lot of trouble as I did it. I'm guilty of punching Captain Barkley in the face, stealing his ship, and landing in a no-trespassing zone. But since I had seen way too much, it was decided that I never get the opportunity to tell anyone about…ever. So, I was sentenced to life in prison and hauled away. That was two and a half years ago."

"You mean," Elisa was gaping now, "you were thrown into a cell just because of some Confederate backroom political horseshit?"

"That's what I mean."

"Goddamn," she swore, shaking her head, "Now I'm really glad I decided to join up with these guys…that is just…fucked up. In so many ways too."

"And that's just the tip of the iceberg. The really messed up shit is even more disturbing…" He trailed off and his somber expression was thankfully ruptured by a well-timed belch. The gastric emission did wonders to lighten the mood, and even better, swing the conversation away from his problem-filled past and brought it back up to current events, namely, eating lunch in the mess hall.

"Well," he glanced down at his now vacant meal tray, "I'd say I'm done here. Now I feel like walking off all that food. How about you?" Elisa still wore a thoughtful expression, probably thinking on what Logan had told her. After a moment, her eyes focused and she looked his way once more.

"Yeah…that sounds good." They rose, dumping their trash and exited the mess, walking shoulder to shoulder, their pairing prompting numerous catcalls and lustful sound effects from the cluster of military personal still downing their food.

"Oh before I forget," Logan recalled, ignoring all the juvenile noise from behind him, "don't think for a minute that I didn't notice that you cleverly shifted that conversation back there away from you. I'll still want my answer sometime."

"What are you babbling about now?"

"I asked what could possibly possess a good-looking woman like you to join up into the military. And I haven't got an answer."

"That's bullshit; I'm not telling you that."

"Right, that's fair," he noted, "After you asked me half a million questions, I can't get an answer to the one I asked."

"I see you were counting," she grinned.

"Of course. So…" he leaned down to look her in the face as they walked, putting on his best nosy and bright-eyed inquisitive stare, until she burst out laughing.

"Jeez, stop that! You look like a deranged squirrel or something. Shit, fine already. If you must know…"

"Barnes!" a sharp call behind them tore into their exchange. Elisa and Logan turned to see old man Beranger stalking up to them. Elisa immediately saluted at the officer's approach. Beranger nodded at her before giving Logan what was known as the piercing eye, an unflinching and quite unfriendly stare.

"An' where's yer salute at boy? Ya so important now that ya think ya don't gotta salute a commandin' officer?" Logan followed suit, doing his best to mimic Elisa's brisk salute, which looked a bit awkward by comparison.

"Sorry sir," he shrugged, "I'm not really on the ball today."

"Stow the excuses son," he growled before facing Elisa again, "Private, report to the Troopers barrack on the double, we're gettin' suited up for a reassessment inspection or some such crap. Shiftin' us all round ta make room for Duke's little angels. A gigantic pain in tha ass, but that's how this shit is done."

"Yes sir," she saluted again. Logan however was less than thrilled at the news.

"That wasn't a lot of downtime," he pointed out, getting Beranger to swing his scowl back at him.

"Well that's too fuckin' bad, ain't it? Shit, you whine a lot boy…" he glanced between the two of them, "Which one of ya was the woman again; cause fuck me if I can't tell the difference." Before waiting for an answer, he brushed past them and went on his way.

"You'd best run along too newb," he glanced back to Logan, "the reassignment is effective to all units. We're all gettin' shaken up royally, ya'd best be ready ta move. From the sound of things, somethin' big is goin' down." When he was gone, Elisa faced Logan, straightening her hair and giving him a smile and a shrug.

"Well, it's been fun Logan. Thanks for the normal chat back there. And the normal company too. I guess I'll be seeing you later."

"Sooner rather than later probably. The Troopers seem to be hanging out with 507 a lot these days. Maybe you'll be able to follow me into one of those sticky situations that I land in that's got you so jealous."

"Hah," she laughed, giving him a wave as she departed, "It's a date."

Second Note: Yes, I know, not a lot of blowing up stuff in this chapter, I just felt the need to delve a bit deeper into the characters. I'll be combining those two pleasing elements in the future. Also, I'd like to note that it will take me an infinitely less amount of time to update this again, so keep a weather eye open. Until then people, good luck and good hunting...