The interrogation took only an hour to get all the answers they needed from Twel'Kijo and Sylvester- and the conclusion concluded nothing except that they weren't guilty.

Syarrhe took gratitude in that she hadn't lectured them prematurely on racism; Twel'Kijo, while admitting her race's prejudice against Jinns, claimed to have tried her best not to act on that inherited superiority complex, while Sylvester confessed he was often in trouble as a child for sneaking out to help the poor Jinns of his town, against his parents' wishes. Syarrhe called Command Sergeant Darrows, who confirmed these two had never before displayed any form of racism.

Then she visited Kramer.

To make it worse, on the way there, Commander Evyr approached the sergeant and began walking alongside her. Her heartbeat quickened; she may be superior to her troops, but not to this man.

He was an Ascunian, with bold cheekbones and large violet eyes amid a cerulean face. Tentacles grew thick and long from his head, wrapped together in a ponytail at the base of his neck, and shorter ones extended from his jaw. Padded armor lined his tall, toned figure, and he was intimidating even without the blasters at his belt.

"Sergeant Syarrhe," he greeted her, falling into step next to her as she made her way to the infirmary, "I've been meaning to introduce myself, and it is unfortunate that it must be under these circumstances."

"What is your impression of the circumstances, Commander?"

A hard line set to his jaw. "A form of racial hazing has taken place among your troops. This is unacceptable."

"I agree," Syarrhe nodded. "And I fully intend to investigate this matter until all details are clear. I will not allow this behavior among Cerridwen troops, even if they weren't mine. As they are, I will especially do everything in my power to stop this behavior."

"See to it that you do," he replied. "A formal report of the incident is required; the paperwork will be left in the box outside your dorm. I'll need that filled out this evening."

"Yes, Commander."

"I'll leave you to it; when you discover the culprit, send them to the detainment suite, and they will be put through a trial and then sent to wherever their trial takes them. Most likely they will be dishonorably discharged and jailed for several years."

Syarrhe nodded again. "I'm aware of the protocol, Commander, and I'll be sure it is followed."

"Thank you, Sergeant. Good luck."

"Thank you, Commander."

Just like that, their brief encounter was ended. Syarrhe continued on down the hall, out the doors at the end, across a lot, and into the infirmary. Inside, she found a few wounded intel privates, a couple of troops who had been injured during exercises, and Kramer, and the medics. She made her way to her troop and sat on the stool next to his bed. He looked at her with worried yellow eyes.

"Sergeant Syarrhe, I'm sorry-"

She lifted a hand. "Stop. You aren't the one who needs to apologize."

He silenced, but the worry didn't leave his face. After a moment, he tried again: "I know you've been trying for unit cohesion and I'm doing everything I can to make it happen- that's the only reason I didn't report-"

"Private Kramer," she interrupted, hating herself for adding to any part of him that might feel inferior, "You've done nothing wrong. You were the victim of assault, and likely of racism, and that means whoever did this to you is in the wrong. I suspect they also convinced Carrhe to lie for them. Now: Commander Evyr is aware of the situation, as is First Corporal Yael from the intel squad." She saw fear light his eyes and continued. "They're wanting me to get to the bottom of this- or they'll take over, and I'll likely be demoted for being irresponsible, but my main concern right now is that information will be hidden. We're a week and a half from our part of this mission and I can't have traitors among our ranks, or one of my finest troops injured."

A shine entered his eyes; she knew he hadn't expected praise from her, and she let out a long sigh.

"Private Kramer, you've been an excellent troop. I've rarely met a private with such intensity, discipline, and dedication. I've yet to hear you complain exhaustibly about chores or any of the extra PT; if anything you seem to enjoy the camaraderie and the work. You've worked to get along with other troops, and even today you proved you wouldn't betray a comrade, even at the risk of your own safety. I now ask that you tell me who did this- not just for your sake, but for the whole platoon's. All of our safety relies on it."

Silence sparked between them for a long moment, and Kramer's shine turned to pain; his eyes were more expressive than most Jinns, and Syarrhe had used that to her advantage while refining her troops, but now she recognized how little refinement he needed. Kramer was a good man, a good troop, and a loyal companion, and he had been mistreated. She knew he wouldn't want the attention, but the injustice had to be corrected.

"It was Washington." He had closed his eyes, though his brow was furrowed with stress. "He- he's made comments about all the 'Martians' before, but I didn't think much of it until we all went into Nafrorix one night and he continuously degraded the Ascunian women in a speakeasy. We weren't supposed to be there, but I didn't want to be the stickler when everyone else was happy to go along, so I joined them. Then it just got worse; he was outright rude to myself and to Twel'Kijo, and even to the female troops. Anyone that wasn't human, male, and, preferably, from Earth, he looked down on. Then this morning, he beat me. I- I had just finished showering and I was dressing myself when he walked in. I smiled at him, and he asked what I was looking at, and I just kind of stared for a minute, uncertain of why he was asking. Then he kicked me square in the chest."

Syarrhe wanted to lower her head, to look away from the pain in his voice, but it wouldn't be right. She kept her eyes on him and waited for him to continue. After a steadying breath, he did.

"I sat through the beating as quietly as I could; when I couldn't help but groan or grunt, he would insult me for being weak. Then Carrhe walked in, and he grabbed her by the throat and told her to say it was Twel'Kijo and Sylvester, or else she would get the same treatment. I guess he knew that Twel'Kijo being Skydian and- and Sylvester being an Earthling, they would be believably racist."

Guilt racked Syarrhe at the words; she had fed into it easily, until Yael had told her they weren't lying. If anyone could catch a liar it was Yael.

Kramer continued. "He wanted to be squad leader and get the squad in trouble. He doesn't care that Aldonn is gay because Aldonn is from Earth; he doesn't mind Berlin, who was born on Cerridwen, because Berlin is funny. But he's ambitious and racist and has a superiority complex from Tafrum. Today he took it out on me, and on Carrhe."

Syarrhe clenched her jaw, a sigh exiting through her nose. I can't believe I never noticed. She had been so set on unit cohesion, on getting them all to work together, that she had never considered the separation to be based on this. She had thought them simply ignorant of the drastic nature of their situation. She couldn't believe how wrong she had been.

Kramer had finished, and was visibly exhausted. Reliving the memories while he still wasn't healed wasn't helping him. Syarrhe nodded once. "Very well. Has Medic Kathers stated your release date?"

"Three days," he answered. "My torso is bruised but nothing broke; she wants me to wait it out and make sure nothing inside is damaged. Some pain takes a day to set in, and her hope is that nothing serious will appear, but she wants me here under observation and to keep me on pain meds for the worst of it. She also wants nothing else to happen before I can heal, and I'm on PT restriction for a week- limited exercises, she said she'll give you the schedule."

Syarrhe stood. "Thank you, Kramer. See to it that she does. As of right now, I have troops to speak with. Get to feeling better; I'd quite like to see you back in formation soon."

A smile lit his face, and she smiled back before leaving. Her heart warmed; Kapler had been right. She wanted to talk to him, but she had more to do. That in mind, she continued on; this would all be resolved tonight.

^V^

Evening came on with Ascuna's two bulbous yellow moons, Magina and Ismit, and its half-moon, Shi'Vala, came to view among countless undiscovered stars. Shining bright with a yellow tint was Sol, the sun closest to Earth, and Syarrhe wondered if she would ever visit.

"You asked me to meet you here?"

She turned to see Kapler and a smile stretched her thick rose-hued lips. The fellow sergeant came to sit next to her on the bench at the edge of the outpost, by the large cliff that overlooked the sea. Nafrorix was situated against the ocean, hedging the slope of a sheer cliff and down to a beach, the city adjusted in tiers. Fort Bonaparte was rather high up on the tiers, but wasn't the only thing on that tier. Nonetheless, the view was beautiful, all of the moons shining against the vast dark indigo ocean, white-capped waves rippling under the vast light.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Kapler asked, nodding toward the ocean that reflected in Syarrhe's silver eyes.

"Yes, it is," she said.

"I heard about what happened today," he noted. "Did you want to talk about it?"

She shrugged. "We don't have to be all business all the time. I also just enjoy your company."

"Then talk to me as a friend."

She eyed him in the moonlight, admiring the curve of his warm brown cheeks and the way the light hit his eyes. Her heartbeat quickened, and she had to forcibly remind herself that right now, this was her colleague.

"I've just been forced to deal with all of this frustration since I arrived here," she began, feeling the great unloading begin. "Between the troops and my own abilities, I'm not sure I have confidence in anything, and now their lives depend on my confidence. I want to believe in them and myself and the mission's success, but it feels doomed from the start. I can't shake this feeling like it's not at all going to be as easy as it's supposed to be. And now this 'hazing' thing happens, and a troop I thought was just going to be troublesome from being mischievous is- is actually racist. That's not even something I considered, and I know I should've because I've met Earthlings who think they're superior to other humans or to alien races. I guess in some way every race thinks itself superior, but that's cultural, and it's not usually prejudice. You have to think you're better so that you think you deserve a chance to live, but thinking you're better and treating others like they're not are two different things. It's- it's respect, when it comes down to it, that becomes all-consuming in the military. If respect is lacking then the unit is doomed, and even one weak link can break the whole chain. I can't risk that. Private Washington is on his way out, but I don't know if a troop would come forward and tell the truth if something else happened. Not even Carrhe told the truth. I scolded her for that earlier, because she puts others at risk when the right person isn't punished, but it feels like that's my fault, too. I didn't let them think they could trust me. Look where that got Kramer."

"You can't blame yourself-"

"It happened under my watch, Kapler," Syarrhe said, facing the other sergeant. There was space between them, but in that moment she felt a pull to rest her head on his shoulder, to let someone comfort her as she needed. Now wasn't the time, as much as she might want it to be. She sighed, casting her gaze back to the sea. "Therefore I'm to blame."

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him; despite her previous thought, she didn't deny him, accepting the comfort. She closed her eyes, letting her cheek rest against the warm top of his chest, against the muscle protruding just beneath his collarbone. Syarrhe hadn't much experience by way of men, but she knew this was nice, and she didn't even want to read into it. A gusty exhale pulled from her, and he began to idly rub her shoulder.

She shifted so she could see the sea while still laying against him.

"Thank you, Kapler."

"Anytime."