He had been wearing an Armani suit when it happened. Of course, that hadn't lasted long. Roy Patterson vividly remembered one of those things plucking at his suit jacket as he had fought his way through the lobby of his upscale apartment building, leaving the shirt and tie behind once he had abandoned the Benz on the side of the road- he had to walk and the summer heat was stifling. Now it was just a sweat-stained undershirt, scuffed loafers, torn trousers. He had been wearing the same clothes for two weeks now.

Then again, so had just about everyone else. As they crowded into the conference room in Halliwell Administration Hall- it had seemed like the logical place for a planning meeting- the stale air smelled of sweat, dirt, even the occasional whiff of dried blood from yesterday's battle against the walking dead. It had been a short but intense affair, shotguns and axes against teeth and grasping hands, but they had come out on top. Nathanson College belonged to the living now.

Now it was only a matter of what to do with it.

Not many people had seemed to come to this meeting, just a handful of the fifty-four people currently on campus. Everyone had been invited to attend, of course, but others had found work to do, burning corpses or digging latrines. Some wanted to look after their children. Others were just enjoying the first rest they had been able to snatch in the two weeks since the Cataclysm. Roy really couldn't blame them. Two weeks ago he had never realized exactly how much peace of mind a locked door could bring.

Roy reflexively touched at the lightswitch as he came in. Nothing happened, of course, the meeting would have to be lit by the sunlight streaming through the windows. The man had to remind himself that the power was off all over campus. So was the water, which was why they were out there digging latrines. And the telephones, the gas, the wifi, cell service. Nothing was being maintained.

In fact, the situation was downright medieval. Most people had only managed to flee with the clothes on their back, maybe a weapon and a few scraps of food if they were lucky. A few had brought more valuable equipment with them, tools and vehicles and such. The Japanese troops especially, although it was clear the foreigners didn't have enough to go around. Not by a long shot. Medicine, fuel, and ammunition were in short supply among the refugees, and it was unlikely they had enough food or potable water to last another day.

Roy had thought growing up in the East Side had been tough, but this was a whole new level of bad.

He went to sit down at the table, cursed softly at the metal digging into the small of his back. Roy reached back, carefully pulled out the Smith and Wesson 4506. Making sure the safety was on, he set it on the table in front of him. Roy hadn't carried a gun in that manner for years, not since he was a street-level clocker working a corner on Troost. Now he was pretty much back where he started. How the mighty have fallen.

Now able to sit comfortably, he was able to look around the room. He knew everyone there at least by name. They were a mixed bag, from every walk of life, some having come here from as far away as Washington or even Japan. It was beginning to look like this was everyone who was willing or able to attend this meeting.

"Well, someone's gotta say it," Royale Patterson said, his baritone voice breaking through the silence. "What the hell do we do now?"

The Cataclysm. The end of the world. End of humanity. Whatever you called it, everyone knew what it meant either way. This world that they had once owned and dominated over, became a waste land. This world was no longer dominated by humans, but by the dead. Those who were reanimated, the former humans, who have know became the dominators.

Marcus had the opportunity to take his mother with him, unfortunately, the monsters took her away. He knew that what was in the past was in the past, buy losing a relative in such away was not good for his moral. Was moral ever good.

Marcus sighed, he was going made. A few days after the outbreak, he would have random arguments with his conscious. That would have sounded unusual to...everyone. Fortunately, Marcus decided to keep the whole talking to himself thing, to himself. This would be best for him, and for everyone else here in the college. You sure about that.

Marcus was thrown out of this thought when he heard the fancy suit. What should they have done, not about of schooling could have prepared him for this. The only this that was useful was the makeshift axe that he made from a stick, and knife, and some good ol rope. "Food and water, that's what we need. He said raking his hands through his hair.

Sylar took a seat at the head of the table. He thought it'd be good to appear as the one in charge. "This man, Remy wasn't it?" He asked. "He is completely right. We need to set up a rule system, a form of government. A democratic way to ensure that everyone follows the same rules in order to ensure everyone's safety. It's quiet now as everyone is still trying to comprehend what has happened. But soon, things are going to break down. It will get chaotic as individuals being to steal and fight and even kill one another. We can't have that. I say we establish a form of leadership within this community and work together to create something that will ensure the safety of ourselves as well as our family and friends. And only then, can we decide what our next priority should be."

He had once written speeches for the most powerful man in the world, but that now seemed like a lifetime ago. He had been on stage when it happened; The Reaping. He watched the PotUS drop limp to the ground. His first thought was a heart attack as he rushed to his side. However, when he looked to the Secret Service as well as the audience for assistance, he realized that most of them had fallen out as well. It wasn't long before the man whom he'd devoted the majority of his life, and the entirety of his career to rose back from the dead and lunged at him. He'd had to rip a pistol from one of the Secret Servicemen's holster and put his Commander-in-Chief down.

He had taken the holster as well as a few mags and fled out the back of the stage as the other zeds feasted on the few audience members who weren't fortunate enough be among the "reaped".

That didn't matter now, though. He and his wife had made it here, to Nathanson, and he was determined to do whatever he could to ensure the survival of his family and everyone else who had come here with him.

Gearbox had taken a place towards the middle of the table. Not wanting to be far from the door, but also not wanting to be to close. He fiddled with a bolt from his car as the room started to speak their mind. His grandfather had given him that car right before he passed away. As for the rest of his kin, he guessed that they died in that first hour. His mother had died during his birth, and he was an only child. No one left except me. This my family now, he thought to himself looking around the room. The man who had taken the head of the table had caught Gearbox's interest.

Nodding to Sylar's words,"a strong leadership would give the people hope. At least as long as we kept our act together." stroking his beard as he continued, "as for looking for supplies, there's an ROTC building out there. It will most likely have at least a handful of rifles." Seeing the building had reminded him of his years in high school, but he needed to focus on the now at the moment.

Marcus was feeling a bit inadequate, he was not making any other suggestions, he was just looking on stupidly with his mouth open. Maybe you should say something wet bag. Marcus sighed, now this conscious thing was starting to insult him, and he was pretty sure that his conscious "was him". "We should set up a guard rotation. We would want to have people set up to protect the perimeter before and after we have the walls." He said as he cupped his hands under his nose. . Finally making a contribution, huh. "Shut up." Marcus mumbled under his breath in irritation.

"And if we haven't already, check out the labs and the nurses office. We should gather all the medications we can. We should probably assign people to certain jobs." Marcus placed himself elbows on the table. Marcus did not want to be the person that had to watch for infected, nor did he want to search for medications. This area seemed safe enough for him. Coward.

Sam's hands tightened around the steering wheel. The quiet among the convoy left her ears ringing, and Darcy's odd silence wasn’t helping. Just to assure herself the kid was still sat in the passenger seat, Sam glanced down. She forced an uneven smile at the kid and stared back out at the campus security building. The rest of the convoy continued slowly into the campus.

Someone popped out of their driver's seat window to swing a bat at the head of a walking corpse. Darcy snapped her eyes shut but didn't move or make a sound.

Sam rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat. "Ready for a wild ride, short stuff?" By now she was pretty good at sounding more confident than she felt.

"Readier than you," Darcy muttered. She inched up her glasses and pinned her aunt with an all too familiar look, sending a wave of uncertainty through the air. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Of course it wasn't. "It's our safest bet for now." Sam twisted backwards, reaching for the tire iron in the back seat. "You wanna go marching up the streets with some brain dead psychos, you go ahead. You wanna live, you follow me." She fished a penknife out of her pocket and flipped the blade out.

"You're so dramatic." Darcy felt a sickness growing in her gut, the kind she used to get if she didn't eat a snack between breakfast and lunch. She took the penknife and crawled under the dashboard. "Someone tries to grab at you, jam this in their eye," her aunt instructed her some few days before. Darcy wasn't allowed to hold onto it unless Sam felt especially nervous.

Sam set the tire iron in her lap and began the slow drive into the campus.

---

Sam pulled her neice into the conference room and pointed to the back. With an audible grumble, Darcy dragged a chair aside and seated herself. Sam straightened her back and stood at the table, arms crossed. She spent the silence observing those who bothered to turn up. A natural frown took place on her features as the conversation began. None of these people could be trusted, she decided, and whatever they said would have to be questioned.

Her eyes darted to the gun rested on the table. Her shoulders lifted and tensed.

She was still wearing the bright coloured work overalls she had on during the cataclysm, unbuttoned to the waist and tied by the sleeves. From the look of everyone else, they hadn't changed either. Somewhere to wash and pool resources ought to be established.

The suggestions were to be expected, and Sam couldn't help agreeing, but anyone with half a mind would think the same. She had little to offer by way of politics. Yet, if they were to set up some form of government she'd be damned if she didn't have something to say about who ran this place.

She remained quiet for the most part, closely watching the speakers. Her neice huffed and rolled her eyes every so often. When there came a pause in conversation, Sam coughed. "Leadership's all well and good, but those trees ain't no wall." She nodded to the guy who suggested better security. "Ain't gonna stop dead people walking onto campus. Buildings ain't that safe neither." She neglected to mention the number of children the convoy had brought in, lest the room think her soft. It was bad enough she couldn't let Darcy out of her sight. "We get those rifles and start building a defences."

Rylan was silent as he stood in a corner of the room away from most of the people in the room, his arms were crossed as he leaned against a wall watching the proceedings take place. Everyone in the room looked like hell himself included, the night before had been nothing but a hellish bloodbath as they fought the countless dead trying to take this place. Rylan himself was not all that out of his league in most cases, after all, working on high profile murders were not as glamorous as some would have you think. In fact it was terrible work in a lot of ways most being in the fact that humans found some pretty sick ways to kill their victims. So blood guts and shit were nothing new to the Profiler, but he couldn't deny that he was anymore prepared for what had taken place in these last two weeks then anyone else was. He was just barely understanding how any of this was possible, how one moment hundreds of thousands of people are going about their lives, going to work, to school, to the bar, just living normal lives and then they start dropping dead in the very spots they had been walking in. Cars crashing everywhere the drivers deceased, this all was like some real life horror movie. Zombies were not real, in Rylan's mind they never would be, but those people who came back to life... they were not human either that he could admit.

Rylan listened idly to the idea's that were being passed around by various people whom he had only meant hours ago, the idea's were sound definitively but he wasn't so sure priority was coming into the question. Stepping forward he uncrossed his arms and walked up to a small spot at the table and spoke.

"These are all good idea's, one which in time we should enact, but in terms of priority, I believe the first order of business is to completely secure these grounds. We do not know that every nook and cranny in this college is secured, there could have been places here that one could slip into. I believe it would be prudent that a team is formed to secure those rifles and do a full sweep of the grounds to ensure that one of those things out there is not unwittingly hiding and jumps on us when we have our guard down. As much as Id like to believe we eliminated all threats here, I for one don't like to take chances. Once we have ensured there are no stragglers then we can look towards other idea's. Does anyone agree on this?"

Rylan became silent as he looked around the various faces he did not recognize around the table.

Tristan Locastro

Tristan had been listening, rather than talking, while the rest discussed what their next step should be. To establish a chain of command, or to secure the facility? This man at the head of the table, he'd clearly like to be in charge, he thought. But that is unacceptable. No one person should have more power than anyone else, but not everyone can be trusted with power, either. Alas, he decided, security is more important at this stage.

Leaning back in his chair, Tristan pulled out a pen and began to slowly, subconsciously click it. "Establishing a government, a set of laws? Yeah, that's important. But that will not happen immediately – no, I can assure you that will be a long, possibly heated debate. And if, during that time, a horde of dead swarmed the room? Where would we be then?" Tristan looked everyone in the eye, in turn. "Feel free to disagree with me, but I think we can trust each other enough to not do anything rash. We can, and should, make sure that this place is secure, perhaps gather what supplies we can find, without causing trouble. Unless," he paused for emphasis, "any of you disagree and think we will become a pack of rabid dogs the moment we step out of this room?"

Tristan twirled his pen in his fingers, lazily. This place really needs power, he inwardly moaned. If I could just plug my laptop in... oh, the things I could do...

As Captain Ishida Hisashi was walking towards the conference room in the Halliwell Administration building that the civilian messenger had told him to come to, he realised that he was a little late. Part of that was due to indecision; he wasn't sure what the refugees holed up in the college was capable of, what principles they were operating by. For all he knew, it could be an elaborate plot set up to ambush him, or to wrestle away his new headquarters on the top floor of the Stilles School of Education. The building was perfect strategically; it was huge and tall.

As such, he had brought half his squad over, and left half his squad back in HQ in anticipation of a possible raid or ambush. As he approached the conference room, he could hear chatter. It took him a while to switch to English, and from the confused look of his men (and woman) he could tell that they were suffering from the same culture shock. One of them couldn't even speak English. The rest of them, the medical officer included, weren't star students in the language either.

Their boots trampled the wooden floor as they entered the conference room in force, the captain gripping the handle of his katana tightly with his off hand (it was a common habit in his unit) while his 'personal guards' held their rifles at the ready. Upon entering, he removed his visored helmet and hugged it with his left arm as a form of manner. From the chatter, however, he could tell that his worries could be unfounded. War weariness settled in for a moment before he banished it. Non-verbally, he got the non-English speaker and a storeman soldier he brought along to guard the outside, and settled at a corner with Sergeant Maiko and an Infantryman.

Nothing short of amateur, was the first thing that came up in Captain Ishida Hisashi's mind. Even before the bare essentials were provided for, they were already talking about laws and government and leadership. What was worse was that such things should already be in place - but he couldn't blame them. They weren't a unit with an SOP ready at hand, where everything is set in stone and parceled out forcefully. When there was silence after most of the people attending the conference had said whatever was in their mind, he decided to step up. He knew that he may not stay in the college for long, but he couldn't let these people flail in the dark while he was around. It was, after all, a secondary mission of the UN US mission, to provide relief wherever possible.

"We cannot-" The English words that came out of his tongue felt weird, but the medical officer press on, "rally the entire group in one task. We cannot think about rhetoric and laws until we serve basic needs."

"I do not know if I, or my men, would ever be part of this group. But- Basic needs and basic tasks first. We should gather everyone into one place. Easy to guard." The medical officer continued, drawing his material from his own SOP. Adapted to fit the needs of a random group of strangers, of course, "The- School of Education is large. My soldiers and wards occupy it. It is good. We could guard it."

"Water and food- My men stand ready to provide relief. We have enough in supply convoy to last group comfortably for a few days." He made a few calculations, visibly using his left hand to aid in his mental effort, before coming up with more sums, "9 or 10 days if food is rationed strictly. Water, 5 days even with rationing. But water will be harvested. We sighted lake nearby, and there could be rain or dew to drink."

"The only things we have in much quantity is medicine- I am medical officer, and I have medic with me." He waved a hand to introduce his second in command, "Sergeant Maiko." Before moving on, "Electricity is worse problem. Each of my men and I have solar panels on fieldpack, to run electronics on our equipment." He pointed and gestured to the camera on his helmet and forearm mounted PDA. Each individual electronics could actually gather their own solar power, but on a tiny capacity, "but they will not even be able to fully charge phones and laptops."

Realising he might be sidetracking, he went back straight to providing suggestions on how to run the group, "We cannot help alone. We need civilians to pool their own resources. But my men willing to provide all of security and whatever aid needed." Looking out the window, he realised that daylight was burning, "it is martial law. No one should go out of relief zone when sun goes down. We must hurry and do everything before darkness comes."

"Should we really help them, sir?" Sergeant Maiko politely interrupted Captain Hisashi in her native Japanese, cutting his speech short.

"Yes, it's what we always do. It should be what we must do." Captain Hisashi replied in Japanese. However, the medical officer had his own agendas. A search and rescue mission- who knew how many of his men are still alive out there? Already, upon checking his GPS, he could see that there were a few blips nearby. Whether they were coming from living or dead soldiers, however, was another matter altogether. And of course, the US wasn't their country- sooner or later, they would have to find a way back to Japan. They had retreated too far, and what recon by air and ground from their people would never find them; this was Captain Ishida Hisashi's biggest worry. But he did have a few ideas to counteract that.

((EDIT)) Then there was another problem. The two American POW soldiers. Most of the squad wants them dead for their war crimes, but Captain Hisashi did not want anyone to die. There were already enough death in the world, enough to walk around and create even more deaths. Yet, his hands were tied - what options he'd come up with for the POWs were either risky or impractical. As inhumane as it was, the death penalty seemed like the best solution, as Sergeant Maiko would say.

Calvin was sitting in a chair with his fingers steepled, the chair across from him was just being occupied by the dude called Gearbox. Calvin gave him a small nod as he was seated. He always disliked having sit down meeting usually before going Pre-Z they were about season expectations, what they expected from each players. This time it was more important than just some ball game but survival, not only for himself but forever one with him at Nathanson so he actually payed good attention.

Listening to everyone voice their opinions about what they thought should be done first, some he agreed with and some he thought could be prioritized differently. Now was a good a time as any to speak his mind, he waited until Captain Hisashi and Sergeant Maiko finished sharing their well thought out plans.

He stood up so everyone knew he was speaking next " I think the most important things are secure basic needs like food and water plus defending who and what we have since making rules isn't going to do anything if we don't have people to protect or feed. *cleared throat* Thats just what I feel anyway." Calvin sat down again.

"Look, rules are all well and good, but they don't need much if people are living in fear and don't have food in their bellies," Roy pointed out. "I don't want to make any waves here, but these guys are right, we gotta take care of ourselves before we bother with who's in charge," he went on with a wave to the two men who had given out similar opinions- Collins and O'Riley? He was pretty sure those were the names.

"'Nother thing, folks," he said casually. "Even with the Japanese bringing food and water, we're gonna be hurtin' before too long, especially if we start something like a big construction project. People can't work on no wall with empty stomachs. And those couple of little babies- they're gonna need formula."

"So I just want to make a little proposal," he said, steepling his fingers and looking over his glasses. "What I'm thinking is I borrow one of those trucks out there- maybe that Ford with the Nebraska plates. I saw a Wal-Mart on the way in here, I think it'd be worth it to do some ripping and running on the place. Grab some food, water. If they got a sporting goods department maybe there's guns and ammo. If one of these doctors comes with me, they'd know what's worth taking in the pharmacy. I can get the lay of the land, figure out what's going on down in the town, get a better idea of what we're dealing with. All that and be back before dark."

He leaned back. "I could probably use two or three others, just to be safe and have help hauling stuff back. The rest of y'all can get on with sweeping the campus and building your fortifications while I'm out." Roy shrugged. "Like I said, somebody's gotta do something."

Gearbox had mixed feelings of the Japanese. On one had they could be a great advantage in a fight, but they will surely not stay forever. He nodded at both the Captain's and Calvin's words. His throat actually feeling a little dry at the moment, though he ignored it when Roy spoke his mind. Almost without hesitation, "I'll go, I've got the muscle and combat training to help in fight."

He continued patting the rather heavy looking wrench on his hip." Me and Martha can keep 'em off your back." He looked forward to helping out, and added after a moment." Also we might want to grab some items for auto repair. I can handle that if there's a good chance to get some." It wasn't as important as food and water, but having vehicles mentioned he used lest calories.

Calvin couldn't help speak again, he rose to his feet
" I think its a good idea to bring a mechanic with you in case you have vehicle problems"
" I also think that someone with a gun should go also, in case of looters. Would hate to lose a working vehicle and some amazing folks with good skills."
"Also I have a duffel bag to help carry things back in."

-It has been a little bit since he blew off some steam maybe going along would help out his mind at ease for a small while-

"Also I can accompany the party also, if need be. "

Alina had taken seat near the middle of the table closer to the entrance. A little girl with dark hair let loose, unlike her care-taker were drawing with a boy slightly older than her was playing the corner of the room. Alina looked at them, relieved for the first time in weeks to see that Assia can be a child and have fun, but she had to focus back to the rest of the group listening to all the suggestions. She agreed with all of them, they need a place of safety and stabilities. But also agreed with the short term plan that getting food and supplies is more important at the moment like Mister Roy proposed.

"I'm willing to go, Mister Roy, I can help I'm fit and I fought off several of those 'things' and at the moment my skills as a plumber is useless without working water, so I could look for the local Water supply system and I can try to see how damaged it is and try to start it up, having it running would be a life saver, but depending on how damaged it is I might have to work on it over time which I can do when we are more stable." Alina finally spoke up. She knew a place as small as this town wouldn't have that big of a water supply system so she could possibly start it up herself, besides bodyguards to protect her from the corpses that would be there.

She looked again at Assia and Erin they were talking about stories in their heads and giggling too themselves. She has to improve the world in her small world for the children.

Abby fiddled idly with her rock hammer, spinning it slowly between thumb and forefinger, her digits moving smoothly over the rusty-brown stained leather wrapping the handle. She kept it with her all the time now, even closer to hand than the backpack that was resting against her shin beneath the table, her foot twisted through one strap in case someone tried to grab it.

"I think we're making this whole rule of law thing more complicated than it has to be." Abby forced herself to stop twirling the hammer, and set it down on the tabletop, though she kept a hand on it. "We don't need new rules. Same ones apply as before Black Friday, right? Don't steal, no murders, no raping anyone? Violators get kicked out of the community. Someone make an announcement to the refugees to that effect, seems pretty straightforward to me."

She gestured to the Japanese captain with her chin. "And I think he's right about concentrating on fortifying one building for now, or at least getting everyone set up in there. I don't think we have enough people to maintain a perimeter of the whole campus. We can start improvising a wall, but until we get that finished we're always going to have rabids straggling in." She refused to call them zombies - reanimated dead bodies weren't possible.

"As for the supply run, well, I'm the wrong kind of doctor for what you're looking for." Ph.D., not M.D.. "We're going to need more than canned food and dry goods, which are going to run out pretty soon even if we empty out the Walmart, and I might be able to help out with that once we get a bit settled, but I don't think I'm going to be going on this particular outing. Oh, but get bicycles," she added. "We're going to run out of gas eventually, and they're faster than walking or, you know, shambling."

Tristan Locastro

Tristan nodded at the Japanese captain. "These solar panels. How strong are they, exactly? They won't be enough for everyone to have power, but if you are willing to lend them for the duration of your stay, they could be very useful as a start." He turned to the mechanic, with further inspiration. "And perhaps we could gather some car batteries? We can start to charge them with the solar panels, and then we'd have some stored electricity. It won't be too much, but it'd be hugely beneficial, especially if we need to do something during the night, when we can't rely on solar power."

There's a proper electrician here, I think. We could probably manage to get something set up – what am I thinking? We probably won't have to set anything up. This is a school, they will likely have a back-up generator in the basement. "Actually, now that I think about it we should check the basement while we're clearing. This place may have a back-up generator, and that would suffice for now."

Stupid! Bells and alarms were ringing in his head. Wal-Mart, are you serious! For once in a few days, Marcus agreed with his conscious. He had not problem with the Jap guys idea, if they were abel to clear out one of the largest buildings on campus for people to live, that would eliminate any possibility of infection of death for now. Unfortunately, sanitation and hygiene was also something on his list. If people are gonna sit there for hours on end smelling like goat shit, then people were gonna lose it real quick.

Marcus's thought about going to the Wal-Mart, but that would have.been unreasonable, he was an Engineer, not a fighter. "Look, I have a Degree in Engineering. I could help with anything here, like the solar panels or something. But I think this is a bad idea. We don't know how many people could have died in there, you could be walking into a death-trap." He said sternly. Marcus did not want to be the one to say I told you so is they came limping back here."

The nature of the conversation changed quickly that Captain Ishida Hisashi could barely keep up. It was the language that made it difficult. Had it been a week ago during landfall, he would have been at a complete loss, but he had adapted fast enough that he could listen to conversations that went on speedily - emergency after emergency had made it a necessary skill. Then a man in spectacles, a seemingly unremarkable man (who Hisashi could empathise with) had pulled him sideways in the conversation by asking about his solar panels.

"They are not powerful. They are part of... Future soldier programme, rushed into service when Kyonshi ((translation:zombies)) came. Together with hinges in knees-" The Captain lifted a leg slightly and tapped on the knee portion of his riot gear, "they power our electronics enough for 3, 4 hours a day. Power must be rationed. We have a few extra fieldpacks in trucks. We could loan them to you for charging electronics."

Then the bespectacled man talked about a backup generator - which the School of Education actually had. The only problem was that...

"We found a backup generator." Sergeant Maiko said in place of the Captain; she was better at the local language than her superior though her accent was still strong, "but the basement is filled with Kyonshi. I instructed the men to block the door and leave it for last as we cleared the rest of the building. The six men we left in the Stiles School of Education should be clearing it anytime now."

By the time Sergeant Maiko had finished, the first objection to the scavenging mission proposed by one of the more prominent member of the group was getting voiced. Captain Hisashi had wanted to object as well; it seemed like an impulsive move without strategic consideration, and neither had he given his consent to it.

"This man is right. Magoko ((Translation: Sun Tzu)) would agree with him. We must... Gather intelligence first. To gather intelligence we recon." The medical officer said, though he didn't make it known that he objected based on his authority and lack of consent to the operation. He had always believed in the softer approach towards governance, "I and 4 others are conducting search and rescue mission soon." Before continuing he unlocked his forearm PDA and brought up his GPS map to show whoever in the council who could be bothered with it. On the map, several icons of infantrymen were blipping, indicating that at least a few of Hisashi's fellow unit mates were wandering not far away, "if you give directions to Wal-Mart, we recon for you."

Being in the civilian group worried him. Some of them appeared to resent he and his unit's presence. One of them had called them Japs, and Sergeant Maiko, sensitive to the term, in turn had given him a death stare. If it had not been for Captain Ishida Hisashi gesturing for her to ignore the man, a quarrel or even a fight would have broken out. Sergeant Maiko had lost most of her clan, extended family and her entire immediate family to the Coming of Hell, and like him, a huge number of colleagues in the UN US Mission to both the living and the dead. The ordeal had changed her. The medical officer had known her ever since she was a recruit freshly posted with him to a medical corp, and had become something of a daughter to him, yet it was becoming harder and harder to recognise her anymore.