Knossos made it to the other side of the flier and took cover briefly. Stray energy bolts fizzed through the smoke. He looked through one of the holes in the vehicle and saw Thebes’ visor staring back at him. Knossos shot through the hole, fully expecting to miss, before sprinting along the length of the vehicle, On this side there was less chance of him getting shot by accident through the smoke.

Keeping his rifle just below his eyeline, Knossos skirted around the other side of the flier. The smoke was visually impenetrable, but a marker did allow him half a second to shoot before Thebes crashed into him. They clattered to the floor with the Sacred Band’s leader on top. He punched Knossos twice in the visor before he slithered free and they rolled through the rubble.

---

Kjartan surged forward as soon as his shield dropped him delicately on his feet in spawn and returned to active mode. He approached Vreta, standing in the open with his arm-shield raised. “The Witch is free now - we must stop her. How goes it here? I can take men?” He seemed to have calmed down marginally on his trip back to spawn, without losing the bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

Vreta could track the fight between Thebes and Knossos. It had turned into a melee briefly, which meant that Thebes would not be able to focus on staying completely behind hard cover that Athena could not pierce. “Can you get the shot, Athena? I’ll keep him marked.”

With the number of lives they had available to them, it was not long before Kjartan was ready to head back into the fray. Ideally, Vreta wanted to try and prevent him from continually throwing himself at Carthage, because he had a feeling that she had the edge in that duel. Of course, from what he had witnessed of Kjartan’s personality, saying that directly would only encourage him to keep taking the fight. Vreta had already tried reasoning with him, so he decided to take a different approach to talking to him this time.

“I ordered a retreat from the building. With just a few soldiers, I can keep the exits locked down and keep her trapped in there.” Vreta answered. “We do that, and she won’t be able to accomplish much beyond taking a few potshots. Meanwhile, I say you march straight down the middle, bash your way through the rest of them, and take that flag straight out from under her nose. We’re filling the frontline with smoke, and I’m marking targets through it. If someone like you gets in there, you’ll slaughter them.” He said, and at least in this case, he did mean it. The current situation on the frontline was perfect for a soldier like Kjartan.

Carthage jetted sideways out of sight to avoid a hail of energy from the two standing drop troopers. They themselves were taking fire from the other team trapped in the opposite corridor, so they rushed after Carthage. She was blocking their escape, and right now they were trapped in a bad spot - they figured they could go on offense and shoot their way out.

One of them chucked a grenade through the ragged hole Kjartan had made, to hold off the Marines pushing forward on their six. Then they grabbed their squad leader off the floor and exited out of the other hole Kjartan made, into the corridor heading back toward their spawn.

Carthage wasn’t visible in the corridor, but she exploded back at them from the entrance to another apartment further down the hall. She knocked the gun of the leading trooper up in the air - he sprayed the ceiling with plasma. What followed was an incomprehensible flurry of jabs, kicks and momentum based control. Carthage twirled her shotgun with inhuman precision to beat all three soldiers to the floor and then finish them at point-blank range.

The two remaining Red Team marines from her initial push jogged down the corridor towards her just as the last body began floating away. Carthage’s visor peeled back when she looked at them, making them flinch. “Come. Let’s end this.” She looked up at the ceiling, where she could hear pounding feet. “Saddam, report.”

“My floor is clear. The top floor is having some issues.” Carthage nodded to herself as they headed down the darkly lit corridor for a patch of light at the end. “Good enough. Take a window, keep them occupied.”

“Copy that.”

---

“I know this! But they are on all floors now. I was held from above, see? They take these windows, fire down on battlefield - I can survive, but who else? Not enough cover to fight on two fronts.” Kjartan motioned to the rows of windows looking out on the street with his hammer. As if on cue, energy bolts began raining down on them from one of the closest windows on the middle floor. Kjartan hid behind his shield and edged into cover beside Vreta. "See!?"

“I see.” Vreta answered. He kept himself in cover behind the bus, though Kjartan might have been able to see a smirk cross his face. “I see everything.” Naturally, there were some limits to what information his echolocation could give him. Anything deep within the building, in the interior hallways, were outside of his awareness, but he could see into any room open to the outside through a window or door. Vreta did stay behind the bus, though he did move from hard cover to a position where it was just the bus’ roof blocking the line of sight between him and the shooter. Vreta pointed his rifle up to the source of the shooting on the first floor, then fired, quickly and accurately, at the shooter straight through the thin metal roof of the bus. Whether Vreta got the kill or not, just forcing the shooter back to make them recharge their shields would be sufficient to buy time for the moment.

Vreta gestured towards the frontline. “We may or may not stop them, but we can stall them. Keep them from getting value out of their position. Push forward quick and get the flag. Just leave a few soldiers to help us contest the building.”

Vreta spoke first to Athena, then any other soldier that was helping to hold their flank. “I can see into the rooms. I can show you exactly which rooms they are in, and precisely when they are going to peek. The moment they peer out to shoot, you can take off their heads. Or if your railgun can pierce the walls, take them out as soon as they step into the rooms.” Vreta recommended. For the purposes of the simulation, he was not sure what surfaces could or could not be destroyed, but if Athena’s weapon could pierce the walls, then the apartments would be more of a deathtrap for them than a flanking route. “Just make sure to mark the window you’re going to handle. Everyone else, we can suppress their windows right as they are about to peek. Get kills if you can, but just stay alive and focus on keeping them from getting anything done. I’ll warn you if any of them try to leave the building.”

Athena gritted her teeth. She’d been watching the cloud of smoke enveloping Knossos and Thebes fighting it out, but couldn’t find a clear shot. Thebes was mindful to always keep Knossos between him and Athena’s line of fire. She could hear the staccato coughs of pistol fire from somewhere behind the flier. The Blue Team was making significant ground off the back of Vreta’s smokescreen tactic, meaning the two duelling operators had been largely left behind by the rest of the Marines.

“I’ll have to change positions to fire inside. Keep me covered.” Athena got up and began running across the street, just when gunfire erupted from apartments on the ground floor. She was hit half a dozen times in a second, and her shield nearly broke. She dived onto the floor, crawling behind a flier. The rest of the drop troopers who’d been killed inside the apartment building floated past her.

“Alright. I go win this.” Kjartan begrudgingly boomed. He started to run down the length of the bus, shielding himself from energy fire. But he screeched to a stop when someone shouted over the din of shooting. “Hey, big man!” He turned, and saw Carthage on the steps by fire exit into the apartments. She held her extensible launcher in her hands, pointed straight at him. Kjartan only had time to bellow the first syllable of her name before a high-explosive rocket fizzed past him and into the bus.

The team did run into some bad luck when the enemy soldiers barged into a room that had an angle on Athena from the door itself. Vreta did mark them, but it gave him less time to warn Athena than if they had approached from any other room. Still, Vreta responded right away in giving her cover. They committed onto taking out Athena, so Vreta was able to focus one target down to score a kill, and Athena was able to make it to cover, if only narrowly.

Being that they were supersoldiers, Carthage and the rest of the Sacred Band had distinctive silhouettes, so Vreta knew right away when he had detected her. It took a moment to transition his aim, but he was able to see her the moment she was in view near the fire exit. He saw the launcher she wielded, and his implant could estimate its trajectory based on her current point of aim. She might have been able to take advantage of the opportunity, but, perhaps for reasons of pride, she inadvertently gave Vreta the time he needed to respond. The time she took to taunt Kjartan was only seconds, but on the battlefield, seconds may as well have been an eternity. Those seconds were enough for Vreta, while keeping low and out of sight, to retreat back a sufficient distance from the bus to keep his shield from breaking. Carthage had picked her target well, as Kjartan was not an immediate threat to her at range, but she may not have expected the trio of shots that Vreta sent through the fireball onto her position.

Carthage dived back inside the apartment building, taking a DMR hit. The bus exploded in a huge fireball that swept the spawn, setting everything ablaze. Kjartan was propelled into the air on a shockwave of superheated air. Saddam briefly ducked down when the rest of the window panes in his room shattered, then got back up and resumed suppressing Athena and Vreta as best he could.

Kjartan landed on his head and immediately struggled to his feet, using his hammer as a crutch. His vision was blurry and the sounds and movements around him were flourishing at a languid, sluggish pace. He saw Carthage emerge from the apartment building in slow motion, smoke curling around her armour from the corridor. She tore the heavy metal fire door off its hinges and advanced with it held in front of her. She chucked a lethal grenade over the top, followed by a smoke grenade.

“The Blue Team have picked up the Red Team flag.” An androgynous announcer confirmed over comms. The baseline of team comms on the Blue Team erupted into excited, stressed chattering. Half a dozen voices began shouting at once, one of which was Knossos. “I can’t contain him, RTB.” Just then, Thebes completed his armlock and simulated breaking Knossos’ neck. The shield wrapped around the veteran soldier prevented any damage, but acknowledged him as KIA.

Thebes got up and glanced urgently between both ends of the arena. At one end, the bulk of his team were engaged in bitter close quarters battle around their spawn, shrouded in smoke. At the opposite end, they were close to taking the objective. It didn’t take long to make his decision - Thebes stuck to the plan and ran toward the Blue Team end, weaving through cover and shooting with calm precision.

It was in times like this that quick and calm tactical analysis could serve Vreta well. Knowing his enemy’s positions, he could work out a reasonable plan, even as events had not gone perfectly well. His implant had collected enough data to be able to project a live-updated map of the arena, and the people in it, in the corner of his vision. He could identify the supersoldiers by their silhouettes, so he knew where they were, and which needed to be dealt with most urgently.

Thebes had bested Knossos, but he was still near the middle, among the clouds of smoke. He was still a few seconds from being able to help, at least, and more than that, he was behind enemy lines. Supersoldier or no, his shields were no more powerful than anyone else’s in the simulation, so if any Blue team marines turned around on him, he could not ignore them.

“Thebes' position is marked, behind our lines. Take him down.” Vreta said through team-wide comms. Though, his own focus had to be on the threats immediately around them. If Carthage was taken down, the momentum could easily swing in the other direction. She was carrying an object for cover, but he doubted that a simple door could stand up to a railgun intended for anti-materiel roles. Athena just needed the chance to take one shot.

Vreta himself had backed up away from the bus, taking cover in some rubble closer to their spawn and near to the flag itself. He no longer had an angle to shoot down the street, since the building to his right blocked his view, but he could still see the apartments. Saddam was accurate, but since he and Athena were in quite different positions, he still could only suppress one of them at a time. Vreta could use that. “Athena, eliminate Carthage. I will cover.” He ordered simply.

With Carthage’s position marked for his allies, Vreta fully-committed onto taking out Saddam. He peeked out from behind the rubble and fired into the window, quickly and accurately. Being that he was firing from long range, Vreta’s weapon did have the edge. It was only three shots for it to break shields, in this simulation. Still, whether he won or lost the duel was not important to his goals. Only a supersoldier like Saddam would be accurate enough at long range to stop Athena from taking her shot, so he just needed to be occupied for a few seconds. If Vreta lost the duel, Athena would still be able to take her shot, and a trade of his life for Carthage’s would be more than worth it.

A few of the Red Team soldiers hanging back from the melee unfolding around the Blue Team spawn pivoted to fire on the silhouette of Thebes as he broke through their line. He zig zagged through the urban hellscape, taking a couple of hits but continuing on at top speed. The Marines were all committed to extracting the enemy flag, but the corporal closest to the rearguard ordered a few soldiers to follow her after the Sacred Band leader.

“Copy.” Athena confirmed, emerging from behind the car she’d been sheltering behind. She shouldered her railgun; it shortened in her hands to increase maneuverability at shorter range. Carthage dropped her shield and broke into a run when she spotted Athena looking at her, but she couldn’t prevent the sniper from putting a round right through her. Athena took multiple hits from Saddam before he hid from Vreta’s DMR. Unfortunately, this was enough to allow the last marine on the ground floor to pop up and finish her shields and kill her off.

Fire from the drop troops taking up positions around the spawn forced them back into cover, but more Blue Team fighters began shooting down from the top accessible floor; they must have concluded their firefight up there.

Carthage’s last grenade went off among a cluster of the troopers, spraying masonry everywhere.

“Red Team flag dropped.” The announcer intoned. The Marine chatter at the other end of the arena reached a crescendo.

“She was mine!” Carthage yelled groggily, as Carthage floated away. He staggered through the field, energy bouncing off his shield. “THEBES!” He bellowed, levelling his hammer at the operator when he spotted Thebes advancing towards them.

Athena had been taken down, but not before taking Carthage with her. That was a pivotal kill to swing the momentum back in Blue team’s direction. The Red team flag had been dropped, but it was closer now, at least, and Carthage’s respawn timer would give them an opening to push and claim it. If they could take out Thebes as well on the way, their opponents would have less effective leadership for a time.

Once again, it seemed like Vreta’s opponents were not rating him too highly as a threat. Saddam elected to shoot Athena rather than Vreta, but it suited him to go under their radar. They might not have realized that Vreta was constantly marking their positions. If all went well, they would have the enemy flag captured before they realized Vreta’s contributions. About a dozen marines had respawned around him in their spawn, which was a good-sized force to make a second push for the enemy flag. Since Saddam was recovering his shields, Vreta focused his fire at first on the remaining marine on the ground floor. Though the supersoldier on the floor above would be a persistent problem that would need to be dealt with.

After firing a volley of shots at the marine on the ground floor, Vreta picked out three of the Blue team soldiers around him and directed their attention up to Saddam’s window on the first floor. “Saddam is firing from that position. You three, take him out if you can, or at least keep him suppressed. I’ll keep him marked, so you can predict his movements.”

For the remaining nine marines, Vreta decided it was time to join them personally in moving forward. He would be moving near the rear to stay within his weapon’s preferred range, granted, but it was time for him to help with one good, final push. “Help Kjartan. We’ll take out Thebes, then push for the flag.” He ordered to the soldiers around him. It also seemed like there were some Blue team soldiers on the upper floor of the apartments that had managed to claim part of the building. It was a pleasant surprise, and it would be good to have their covering fire for the push ahead.

As he moved out into the street once more, Vreta jumped onto a pile of rubble to get an angle on Thebes while his allies were advancing. He put more of his implant’s focus on predicting Thebes’ and Kjartan’s movements based on their momentum so he could weave in shots from a distance in the midst of their melee.

Thebes crouched behind a barricade and peeked over. “They’re moving! Saddam, drone the Rothian. I’ll handle out the Norse.” Right now, Thebes was sitting in the middle of a storm. Energy was fizzing around his location from behind, above and now, in front too. Thanks to his impeccable choice of cover, they wouldn’t be able to focus him as long as he stayed low. But that wouldn’t last long, with soldiers advancing on his position behind.

Thebes unclipped a drone bomb, like the one Knossos and Saddam both carried too. It was flat and square, larger than a regular grenade. He identified Kjartan’s silhouette and locked that in. He then chucked the drone up into the air, and it sprouted appendages before flying at the towering figure making his way towards him.

Saddam did the same from behind cover up in the apartment block. He locked in Vreta’s distinctive shape before chucking his drone out of the window. He wanted to address the Blue Team soldiers above him, but also couldn’t leave Thebes out there by himself. Saddam emerged from cover. Free from Vreta’s accurate DMR fire, he began devastating the shields of the three marines suppressing his position with laser-focused bursts.

Kjartan saw the danger coming this time. He levelled his square shield at the last moment; it expanded to arch over the top of his head and down to the floor. Kjartan dug his heels in and roared in defiance and the explosive pad connected with the front of his shield and emitted a massive explosion. A billowing cloudfront of fire burst out in all directions, connecting with another fireball from Saddam’s drone.

Kjartan emerged from the explosion with blackened shields, otherwise unharmed. He broke into a run toward Thebes, shield reverting back to its regular form. Thebes started shooting, which in turn put him in the firing line, particularly from behind and up top. However the Blue Team’s forward line had just been broken, forcing the soldiers pursuing Thebes to turn and fight a tactical retreat or risk being overrun.

“Agent, report.” Thebes grunted, trying to burst Kjartan’s shields in the last few seconds before he’d need to face him. “They’re falling back.” She huffed, bursting through the smoke covering the Red Team’s third. She’d taken one of the Blue team’s assault weapons, as hers had been lost upon her first death. “Most of us are down to our last life.” 595 ducked behind cover when energy splattered across her shield.

Vreta had seen the explosive drones in action before, so his implant knew to mark it as a priority threat. The drones were quick, but that did meant that, by tracking the drone’s vector, he could know just as quickly which one was targeting him. In an instant, Vreta snapped his aim towards the incoming explosive. His implant gave its projected path, as well as assisting his hands in aiming precisely enough to put a shot right in that path. Vreta took multiple shots, though it was his first that struck the drone mid-air.

The detonation was still close enough to stress Vreta’s shields and drop them low, but he was still able to dive into the nearest cover. He had to wait for his shields to recover, so he took the time to observe the state of the battle. He was not sure what was causing his frontline to lose ground, considering the advantages they had over the enemy, but it was a circumstance he would need to adjust to. The soldiers behind Vreta were at least keeping Saddam occupied for the moment, so Vreta could afford to focus on Thebes. The marines Vreta was pushing with did not yet have pressure on them, though they had still not found a shot on Thebes. He was not sure he could rely on Kjartan to defeat Thebes alone either, so he needed to help personally.

Vreta shifted over next to one of the Blue team marines in cover near to him. “I need this.” He said as he grabbed the Human’s lethal grenade. “Kjartan, shield up. Grenade incoming!” He warned through their comms before arming the grenade and tossing it over towards Thebes. He stayed down while his implant tracked the explosive through the air. Though he did warn Kjartan, he still made sure to throw it such that Thebes would be between Kjartan and the grenade, just to be safe. At the last moment, Vreta peeked a narrow angle and shot the grenade to airburst it on Thebes’ position.

595 directed her sensory suite to find and mark key members of the opposing team in her HUD. She found Vreta near the centre, cloaked in a corona of fire from an explosive charge. The Varangian she’d seen on the bridge before was rushing Thebes. Athena had just respawned and Knossos was close to doing the same.

So far, the Agent had spent most of the battle on defence. She’d abused her state of the art and highly classified set of tools to corrode the other team’s capability to fight effectively. A series of malfunctioning weapons, IFF tags and communications pathways had insidiously tilted the balance in favour of the cornered Red Team.

Her carefully applied active camouflage hadn’t worked as well as she’d hope, though. This was when 595 had come to suspect that the Barb’s Rothian guest was providing some kind of force multiplier; the other team was too accurate as to be natural.

So, 595 had made her way hastily forward once her work had been done in the smoke. She didn’t harass the retreating Blue Team - she was focused on just a single target. It was time to go on offense.

Looking downrange, and piggybacking as many combat suit nodes as she could, the Agent assaulted Vreta’s implants with a Grade 5 Cradle-Scrivener-Fujikawa virus. If left unattended, it would shut down all implants and paralyse him until recalled. It was an incredibly dangerous virus, normally reserved for dismantling entire battalions, but 595 was a competitive individual.

She was confident Vreta wouldn’t be able to resist a black site cyber attack and co-ordinate his troops at the same time. Biting her bottom lip with a gleeful grin, 595 began shooting at the retreating Blue Team vanguard. They were getting close to falling on top of Thebes, who had enough to worry about.

---

Thebes scrambled away from the grenade like a Human cockroach, but couldn’t avoid being flattened against the rubble beneath him by the concussive blast. He flipped onto his back, just as Kjartan vaulted over the barricade Thebes had been hiding behind. The Norse absorbed a few shots from the Team Leader’s rapid-fire pistol before savagely bringing his hammer down towards his chest. Thebes rolled away and tried to get up. Kjartan was quick to retrieve his hammer from where it was buried in the ground and jab him in the ribs, sending Thebes flying into the side of a flier. Kjartan stalked forward, laughing maniacally.

It took only a moment for Vreta to realize what was happening, and his implant was already working to contain the detected threat. Someone was being exceptionally bold, and at least at first, Vreta had a mind to show them who they were dealing with. However, he soon realized that there was something more to this virus. Normal Human malware likely would have been dealt with before Vreta was even aware of it, but there was something different about this one. His implant started dedicating a surprising amount of resources to adapting to the malicious code, so as quickly as he could, Vreta himself stepped into action.

From the start, Vreta disabled all outgoing signaling from his implant to prevent any outbound transmissions. Without that, there would be no connection from his implant to any external server. Naturally, he also ceased his ongoing tactical support to his team so that his implant could dedicate its full processing power to the task ahead.

Despite the surprising sophistication of the virus, Vreta might have been able to have it dealt with swiftly, had that been the path he chose. There was clearly Cradle tech involved with the program, but his own implant was top-of-the-line by Rothian standards. It had immense computational capacity compared to anything of Human creation, and this virus was at least still partially Human-made. Vreta, however, was not merely interested in stopping it. This presented new opportunities beyond just the outcome of a combat simulation.

Vreta, of course, did nothing to hamper his implant’s ability to fight back and protect himself. He stopped his own digital assistance towards his team so that his implant would have the resources for the kind of record-keeping he required. Like a ship sealing off compromised compartments, his implant first quarantined various sections of his internal network from one another. Some sections, by their core design architecture, were inaccessible. Implant subsystems connected to most vital organ systems were isolated, with their own processors and core programming. They were disconnected from his neural implant, except for a specialized interface that allowed the subsystems to view directives without allowing the direct transmission of code. The virus could not spread to them, but other systems, such as his sensory and motor functions, did have a direct, low-latency connection to his neural implant. As such, his implant did have to work to protect them.

Instead of outright deletion, Vreta directed his implant to create an quarantined partition with “write once read many” write protection. Any well-made virus would be able to erase part or all of itself if needed, but his implant was more than capable of dealing with that issue. It issued a root-level override to all deletion operations, or indeed any form of code modification, to instead copy into the quarantined partition. In effect, that partition would serve as an immutable record of everything happening within Vreta’s internal network in order to guarantee that he could save a copy of the virus in its entirety. Of course, Vreta had stopped giving any manner of assistance to his team during all of this, but at this point, his goals had changed.

The virus reported back instantaneously upon release. 595 stopped firing and dedicated most of her processing power to understanding the request. She was still vaguely away of the battle unfolding in front of her, but it seemed to slow down. ”Quick - release me; this one requires full control.” The virus whispered in her mind. The Agent’s HUD helpfully painted a dozen thin black helixes winding between her helmet and nodes out in the field, which then wrapped around Vreta. These connections all gyrated impatiently in the air. “SCRIVENER-FUJIKAWA CONTROLS MUST NOT BE RELINQUISHED.” a synthetic warning blared.

595 quickly analysed some of the data the virus was feeding back. Vreta’s internal defences were already going up, and she only had a vanishingly small amount of time to upgrade her attack. The Agent could see Vreta, and he was just standing in place. That wasn’t enough for her; she wanted to see him flat on the floor. Normally she wouldn’t even consider an action like this, but she’d felt an odd affinity with the viruses in her arsenal recently that hadn’t been there before. She felt more comfortable with controlling it personally, and even relished the challenge.

“Alright. But just remember you belong to me.”The Agent overrode the lab controls, and instead assumed direct control. A new, totally alien strand surged through the slaved network, fully intent on Vreta. 595 drew in a sharp breath as some of the readings washed over her. She instantly felt a pull on all her personal control over the virus, like it was straining at the leash, dragging her along. It was a hundred times more complex, yet somehow felt familiar.

However, it never reached Vreta. A deafeningly loud klaxon sounded inside the simulation room; red lights flashed. The black helix lines in 595’s HUD went taut, then whipped back towards her as every piece of Human hardware inside the room, apart from her, powered down. Every detail of the simulation bled away, leaving clear white contours that’d raised from the floor to form the cover and buildings. Some of these too began lowering back into the floor, leaving the participants staring about, confused.

595 gasped as the virus rushed back into its box in the back of her head and hid.

“Stand down! Simulation ends.” A human coordinator shouted from the control pod.

Vreta’s implant had stamped out the final traces of the virus in his mind, outside of the records in the quarantined partition. Though, it had stopped fighting back after the room had gone dark. The simulation might have ended inconclusively, to the confusion of most of those involved, but Vreta could be satisfied with the fact that he had a record of everything that happened within his mind. He realized that he was going to have to schedule some minor surgery to deal with this, but hopefully, what was within his storage drive now would be a gift well-worth the trouble.

In the spectator’s booth, there was another guest to the Barbarossa. She stood near the window, looking out over the now-featureless arena. Rareth was unarmored and unarmed, or at least did not carry any external weapons. She had not originally come for any official purpose as a Datius, but rather simply to speak with the members of the Sacred Band. She had not expected anything more complicated than a conversation, but she was nothing if not adaptable. It had been easy to notice when something strange started to happen with Vreta, so she had been in a position to observe everything that was observable when the room shut down. “Interesting.”

On his part, Vreta did not show any signs of distress, nor did he have any intention of letting on to what happened on his own. It was in his interest to keep the details quiet for now, if at all possible. In fact, the more ignorance he could believably feign towards 595, the better. Though, he could not be sure what the simulation’s observers already knew. After all, the room would not have shut down without reason, so either the virus forced the simulation into shutdown for some reason, or there was something that the ship could detect, which it reacted to. “Is everything fine? No one is hurt, are they?” Vreta asked loudly.

The Agent glowered up at the command pod for spoiling her fun. There she saw the big Rothian from the earlier simulation, and Captain Andersen. She was standing among the technicians and some other officers, staring right at 595; she didn’t look pleased.

The Agent huffed. She turned around and headed quickly for the staging area and exit, pushing past a marine who was chatting with the soldier beside him.

“Move!”

As she navigated her way around the mounds of nondescript cover and thought it through, a little seed of dread germinated in her head. Even if the Rothians captured her little toy and had the nerve to disable the controls, they wouldn’t see the same thing she’d just seen. They couldn’t, not yet. She’d covered her tracks too, so diplomatically they couldn’t touch her.

But that wasn’t what was unnerving her. It was how connected she’d been to that virus in its final form. She’d been training for this over fifty years, but nothing could have prepared her for the raw power mainlining through her implants.

She’d gotten a partial map of the inside of Vreta’s head, but otherwise the controlled virus had obviously been outmatched, fighting with one hand tied. But the other one...she couldn’t help but wonder if it would’ve accomplished its mission and more…

“Everyone make your way carefully back to the staging area while we reboot.” The co-ordinator ordered.

595 checked her arsenal, making triple sure the Scrivener-Fujikawa controls were fully enabled again. It looked secure; although she couldn’t help but distrust the virus’ willingness to go back to its prison.

The Agent’s skin crawled; she suddenly wanted to feel the open air. She peeled back her visor but wasn’t satisfied. She opened the whole front of her suit and stepped out, clad in shorts and a vest. It remained open and walked confidently behind her, ready for re-entry at any moment. 595 snatched the assault weapon out of its hands and shoved it into the armoury-tech’s arms before stalking to the doors.

---

“Not yet, anyway!” Kjartan jokingly responded to Vreta. His blood rage faded away quicker than it had appeared. He offered a consolatory hand to Thebes, who was on his hands and knees preparing to get up. The Sacred Band leader took it and got to his feet, holstering the energy blade he’d hidden under his body. Kjartan seemed close to deprecating the team leader, but something stopped him. "I serious about joining Sacred Band." He admitted gruffly, nodding respectfully at Thebes as they made their way towards the exit with everyone else. "I know." Thebes replied.

Vreta hummed to himself as he looked over Kjartan and Thebes. He still was not sure entirely what to think of the Sacred Band’s newest member. Just based on their short time working together, it felt like he would be more of a liability than an asset. He would just be someone to watch out for if they continued to work with the Sacred Band in the future, Vreta supposed. “Well, at least everyone is fine. I’m sure that’s not how any of us expected the match to end.”

As they moved to leave the arena, Vreta kept close to the Sacred Band. The simulation had been an interesting diversion, and one that he hoped would convince them to see him as less of an outsider, but he still had certain things he wished to say to them before they parted. “I know everything is still moving quickly with the excavation. A lot of work to do, not a lot of time to stop and think. I know I wasn’t there in the simulation, but I did see the recordings of what happened. I wanted to thank you for it; you fought for our people as much as you did your own.”

From the floor of the arena, and with everything he had been dealing with otherwise, Vreta had not noticed Rareth’Jharn up in the spectator booth. So, it came as a surprise when he suddenly heard her voice ahead of them. “That they did.” She said, stopping just in front of them. As a guest aboard the Human ship, she lacked any of her military equipment and weapons, though seeing her outside her suit really just drove home exactly how large and powerful of a Rothian she really was. She towered over the rest of the crowd, supersoldiers included. As they had learned inside the simulation, much of her body was artificial, though one would not be able to tell through her synthetic flesh. “I am not so busy that I cannot come to say it myself. I know our people have different customs, different ways of seeing things, but I wanted to give respect in the ways of my people.” She said to the Sacred Band.

“Your aim must have broken the sim, Vreta’Sori.” Saddam joked. He jumped out of the first floor apartment he’d been occupying, landing with a crunch. He jogged to catch up with them. “We’ll make sure to eliminate you first, next time.”

They kind of had to stop walking when Rareth blocked their way. “Thank you, but there’s no need. Any soldier would have done the same. We just hope Memnon didn’t die in vain. He was our friend.” Thebes answered the Datius.

“Please vacate the sim area, immediately.” The co-ordinator instructed over the loudspeaker, as Knossos and Athena joined them. Carthage had just respawned when the simulation ended, meaning she was already waiting patiently for them in the staging area with her arms crossed.

Thebes gestured for Rareth to go ahead of them as they moved toward the exit. “We're in mourning for fourteen earth days, then we look for a permanent replacement. Kjartan is on trial with our Captain’s blessing.” Kjartan took that as his cue to pipe up. “Anyone want to come gym? Sauna?” He looked round; Knossos shook his head.

Rareth moved along just ahead of the group. She gave a brief look towards Kjartan, but otherwise continued on with what she was saying. “A life is not something we take lightly. A Rothian life, or a Human. Memnon was your friend, and a member of your team. Your customs of course take precedence, but he did die fighting for Rothia as well. If there is no conflict with your customs, I would like to offer our honors also.”

Once they were in a space where they could loiter freely, Rareth stopped once again. “When a Rothian soldier dies, there is generally a public…what would be the best word to describe it to you? A vigil? It is an observance to honor the life and death of the fallen. It is a more public event than the funeral. It would be our way of showing respect to him, but you would know better than I if he would want to accept such a thing.”