Their return to the Karpa Luna military base was a triumphant one, again.

They'd handed over their quarry to the detachment of Merlynn's dragoons that had been lurking not far from Gartole to transfer the prisoner the rest of the way. Hammerhead Squad took a small breather before Blinking back to the base, a matter of minutes behind the radio transmission that confirmed their success.

They arrived in the specially assigned staging area for the Blink operatives – a large hexagonal room, completely empty and featureless save for a functional Nav-Rod and a doorway leading out into the rest of the military command post. When all his operatives safely completed the transport Darien let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension from his body. Going back to Gartole had been an unwelcome trip back into his past running the lava canals, but every single member of his squad had performed admirably. Another successful mission would do wonders for the standing of Blink in the eyes of their military counterparts.

Unclipping his carbine from his combat vest, Darien nodded to the others. "Nice work everyone – really nice work." He beckoned for them to gather round and saw five tired, but friendly faces. A couple of successful operations had helped take the edge of their tense reunion and something deep in his gut warmed with a sense of belonging. It might not have been the mission he'd have chosen to rejoin the fray, but being back in command, doing what he did best, it reaffirmed his place in the universe.

"It's going to take the dragoons a few hours to transfer the prisoner – I'm going to report in to Merlynn and check in with the other teams. You all take a couple hours off. Just make sure I get your mission reports by 2200 tonight."

"Tonight?" Idas groaned.

"I don't make the rules around here," Darien chuckled wryly. "The Lieutenant Colonel runs a tight ship, and I'm not going to be the one to rock it, alright? Just get me the reports. Then you're all off the clock."

They nodded, a good-natured rumble of mock complaints rolling around the group as they filed out of the room and into the adjoining barrack block. The building itself house several squads of Beltock Dragoons – but the soldiers kept to themselves, uninterested in making acquaintances with a bunch of kids. That didn't bother Darien unduly – the odds of them fighting side by side with the soldiers in a pitched battle were extremely slim.

Apparently predicting the frosty relationship that would exist, Merlynn had billeted them in a small chamber just outside the Blink staging area, one that would normally have been assigned for specialist engineering and demolition teams. It suited the operatives perfectly.

A dozen reinforced lockers ringed the walls, giving plenty of space for all the gear they'd brought with them from Blink Station Alpha, as well as a series of military issue bunks. The only downside was the lack of private billets. Blink operatives weren't expected to live as soldiers, and all of them enjoyed a degree of privacy on board the station. Here, things were very different.

"Everybody unload and get some rest," he ordered, before looking to his second in command. "Niamh, you're with me. Time to make our report to Colonel Merlynn."

"Yes, sir," she grumbled, rolling her eye. He smirked, moving across the room and punching in the code to his locker.

After stowing their combat gear, Darien and Niamh set off across the base to Adaya Merlynn's command station. The guards at the gate scanned their passes, despite the fact he'd been in and out of the building several times. On an installation like this there would be no shortcuts when it came to security, particularly given the depths of the rebel network into Ravine's government channels.

The pair stepped into the hurricane of activity, caught in the rapid flow of military logistics personnel as they streamed back and forth, the air thick with chattering voices and the humming of consoles.

"Like somebody kicked a hornet's nest," Niamh remarked dryly as she observed the bustle. "Think Merlynn's going to have time for little old us?"

"I'm sure she'll fit us in somehow," Darien replied, giving her a wry smile. "C'mon."

Together they picked their way through the gauntlet of moving bodies, making a straight course for the raise central command dais from which Lieutenant Colonel Merlynn commanded the task force. And sure enough, she was there now, her iron expression scything through the chaos, barking crisp, concise commands to her subordinates as they ebbed and flowed around her.

Darien edged his way closer, eager to make his report and get his own stint of R&R, but not wishing to interrupt the leader of the colonial forces in mid flow. They mounted the stairway leading up the dais and stopped several feet away, comfortably in Merlynn's eyeline but not pressing any further forward. She caught his eye, aware of their presence, but they had to wait for several minutes while she dolled out orders before she finally beckoned them forward.

He delivered a sharp salute. "Reporting in, ma'am."

"Operative," she said sharply. "The Dragoon detachment at Gartole passed your preliminary report along. Good work out there."

"Thank you, ma'am," Darien replied. "We did our best to avoid any undue damage. But that dam was packing a lot of tech."

"Yes, the report mentioned the bomb." Merlynn nodded slowly. "You disabled it."

"As far as we could," he said. "The compounds will be inert by now, but we didn't have the ordinance or the time to do more than delay them. They must have the ability to build more."

"Undoubtedly," the colonel agreed. "We'll deal with the dam in due course. And in any case, it sounds like you bagged an important piece of their leadership."

Niamh nodded. "She was supervising the bomb construction."

"Then you may have set them back more than you know." Merlynn paused, rattling in a series of commands to her data slate before looking back to them. "In any case, I'm impressed. You've earned a break. I'll pass on any pertinent information regarding out captives in due course."

"Ma'am." Darien nodded again. Merlynn's eyes returned to her pad which he took as a signal for them to leave. The two operatives turned to leave.

"One moment, Flint," she snapped, stopping him in his tracks.

Darien caught Niamh by the arm and turned them both back to face her.

"I need to speak to you about one of your squad leaders," Merlynn told them, her tone icicle-sharp.

Darien's sense of success quickly faded away at the sound. "Yes, ma'am?" Sensing the seriousness of the situation he stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back and standing with his feet shoulder width apart. A sharp glance told Niamh to do the same and she took up an identical position beside him, her face pinched with worry.

"All your teams have performed well," the colonel began, clearly choosing her words with care. "Your objectives have been accomplished across the board."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"No doubt." She turned a cold stare on him. "However, the manner in which these objectives have been achieved, has, in some cases, raised concerns."

"Vass," Niamh muttered through gritted teeth, lowering her gaze and shaking her head. "What did he do?"

"Operative Juntaar did not exercise the level of restraint we would have expected." Merlynn paused for a moment, then her expression tightened. "That's putting it mildly."

Darien winced, but forced himself to hold her gaze. "What happened?"

"He did not observe our rules of engagement and did not show even a modicum of restraint." She beckoned them to follow. "Walk with me."

An uncomfortable feeling twisted in his stomach as they fell into step behind Merlynn, moving to one of the several banks of screens that ringed the central operations dais. Upon it were several long distance captures from colonial military forces and even from the range of the shots he could see the licking flames that lashed across the structures of the run down block of cinder-dark buildings. He recognised the target location that Vass had been assigned – a lightly populated hamlet in one of the southern volcanic valleys that had been marked as a stopover for weapon shipments.

And it looked like Vass's operatives had turned the place into a warzone.

"You can see my problem, I think," she told them, folding her arms and casting a grim eye over the display.

Darien pinched his nose with one hand, his mouth curling with disgust.

"While Operative Juntaar's squad achieved their objectives and brought in several of the compound's personnel alive, they also used indiscriminate force to do so. There were dozens of serious injuries among civilians and at last count nine casualties from their assault."

"Assault?!" Darien looked at her in disbelief.

"That's the only way I would describe it," she muttered. "They lit the whole street up with explosives, then hit three points of entry simultaneously, hard and fast with full live fire in effect. I won't deny the effectiveness, but it's taken a matter of hours for security footage from that attack to be leaked to the media."

"The idiot," Niamh grated. "Let me guess, our rebel friends are playing for sympathy?"

"Colonial forces are already being questioned with allegations of disproportionate response. I have a lot of explaining to do, and it is all because of ... this. These were supposed to be quick, in and out raids with a minimum of conflict. We are not here to escalate tensions. We are supposed to be keeping this situation under control."

With a face as hard and sharp as flint, the colonel turned on them.

"While you are technically under my command, I'm aware of the differences in disciplinary procedures between the military and Blink," Merlynn told him coldly. "And because of that, in this one instance I am going to let you deal with this. Speak to him and get your people in line, Operative Flint. If this happens again, they will answer to me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, ma'am," he said sharply, trying to keep his anger bottled up. "I'll deal with it."

"See that you do. I do not want to have this conversation again. Dismissed."

Seething inwardly, Darian saluted and spun around. With Niamh right behind him he stormed through the military complex, moving as quickly as he could until he cleared the main doors. Then he rounded on Niamh, his teeth grinding together in fury.

"That stupid son of a bitch," she spat, reading his mind. "We need to reign him before he kicks this whole thing into a proper war."

"I know." Darien planted his hands on his hips, taking a deep breath, trying to think. Vass was a volatile individual – he needed to approach this carefully. "Go find the others, let them know the situation. I'll talk to Vass."

"You sure?"

He nodded, clapping her lightly on the shoulder. "I can handle him."

Niamh hesitated for a moment, then flashed him a faint smile before jamming her hands into the pockets of her jacket and trudging across the concourse of the military base, leaving him alone. Darien watched her go for a moment, his lips pressing together tightly in thought. Then he tapped his earpiece.

"Vass, this is Darien," he said, keeping his voice. "What's your location?"

"Rec room," Vass drawled back after a moment. "Something wrong?"

"Just need a word."

"We're in the rec centre."

"Copy. I'm on my way."

Swallowing a deep lungful of the tainted Ravine air, Darien squared his shoulders and trudged across the base towards the half-barrel shape of the main recreation centre.

When he heaved open the heavy armoured door of the rec centre he was met with an immediate wave of noise that spilled out from the interior as though a dam had broken. Slipping in and booming the door shut behind him, Darien turned his gaze on the sea of people that clogged up the main space, hunting for the other squad leader.

Row after row of metal trestle tables were jammed from end to end, all of them crammed with off-duty military personnel, and noise buzzed above them like a physical cloud. Some tables had been moved to form squares with large groups of men and woman placing bets on a myriad of different and dubiously legal games of chance. Built into the walls were VR suites, programmed with games, combat sims and a variety of other less savoury entertainments that were vital to keeping a fighting force functioning. The dragoons were hardened soldiers, but that didn't mean they didn't understand the value of R&R.

After minutes of edging his way through the ranks of revellers Darien eventually found Vass and the rest of Tundra Squad grouped at the end of one trestle, deeply engrossed in a game played between six linked consoles, each displaying a holographic grid of coloured squares. Colours flashed and patterns changed as the game took its course, operatives cursing or whooping on cue as players made their moves.

"Vass!" Darien called, raising his voice above the local rumble of conversation, causing the heads of all of Tundra squad to turn.

Vass Juntaar looked up from his holo-grid, a faintly amused expression on his face. He motioned with his head for the rest of his squad to keep playing, then he placed the holo-grid down on the table, rose, and strolled breezily through the steady flow of off-duty military personnel. He stopped in front of Darien, hands stuffed into the pockets of his Blink issue jacket, looking him in the eye.

"Well, here I am," Tundra's leader said, his voice smooth and unconcerned.

Darien's jaw tightened and he nodded for the door. "Let's take a walk."

"What's this about?"

"Not here," Darien said sharply, Vass's attitude already beginning to cut through his veneer of calm. "Lose your damn swagger and just come with me."

Vass rolled his eyes but relented, making a sweeping gesture to the building's exit with one hand. With the other squad leader in tow, Darien swept through the door and out into the concourse again, under the hot dark sky of Ravine. The darkness was tinged with orange from the near constant volcanic activity that simmered across the horizon beyond Karpa Luna. Hand on hips, Darien's stare bored into the smooth-paved basalt of the concourse until he heard the door shut behind them. Then he turned to face his subordinate.

"So let me guess," Vass sighed, leaning against the side of the building with. "Merlynn's got a weak stomach for violence?"

For a moment Darien couldn't believe his ears. He looked at Vass in amazement. "Are you serious?"

"We did our job."

"She's a veteran soldier!" Darien hissed. "And yes, she specifically called out your team. Only yours. What the hell were you thinking?! We are meant to be helping de-escalate the conflict and you turned that compound into a shooting range!"

"We accomplished every single one of our objectives," Vass spat back. "We were given tactical discretion over how to run our own operations. I don't need some slow-thinking normal telling me how to do my job."

Darien physically winced before glaring at him. "Well, like it or not, you've got one. And you shouldn't need someone looking over your shoulder telling you not to start a fire-fight in a civilian district!"

Vass pushed himself off the building wall and stood up to him, meeting Darien's glare with a look of utter disgust.

"You think these people are going to lie down and go away if we treat them with kid gloves?" he demanded. "Do you know what we found in that compound? They're not packing medicine for the disenfranchised, or pixie dust for good little kids. They're stockpiling guns, bombs, armour, ordinance – the whole place was basically an armoury, and Merlynn's worried about a little collateral damage?" Vass shook his head. "If you came here for an apology you wasted your time."

That pushed him too far. Before he could stop himself Darien surged forward, grabbing Vass by his jacket and shoving him back up against the wall, his voice an icy cold. "I came here because I'm your superior officer, you arrogant prick! I'm here because you've pissed off the person running this entire operation and she gave me one chance to talk some sense into your thick skull, before taking matters into her own hands."

Vass's wolf-like features morphed into a sneer and he wrenched himself free of Darien's grip, glaring at him.

"Think you're just going to pull rank and that'll be the end of it?" he scoffed. "You're rusty, Darien. You shouldn't even be here. And if it was any other planet in the galaxy you wouldn't be here. The only reason you lucked into command is because you were unlucky enough to be born on this piss-hole."

"You think I give a damn what you think about me?" Darien snapped. "It wasn't my idea to come back here, so if you've got a problem with the command assignment you can take it up with Smith, assuming you don't get yourself killed down here." He shook his head in frustration and pointed a finger at Vass's face, looking him in the eye. "Until then, I am in command here, and this is your only warning. Clean your act up and abide by colonial rules of engagement, or it'll be out of my hands."

With his point made, Darien turned, not wanting to waste any more time sparring with the fiery squad leader over his conduct. It seemed, however, the other operative wasn't about to let things go quite so easily.

"I'm not scared of Merlynn," Vass snarled after him. "And I'm not scared of you either."

Darien's mouth twisted into a grim smile and he glanced back over his shoulder. "Then you're even stupider than I thought." And he turned away, trudging off into the hot, dark Ravine night.