“The Steel Cast program is simply too easy to abuse. I don’t really care how many we make as much as I care about how many we could avoid. How many times has someone gone missing during an operation only to show up as a Cast six months later?” – Overheard in the NCO club, speaker unknown.

  Jack stood outside the operating room and watched through a layer of glass as Phantom doctors slowly put his friend back together. The AHF wasn’t able to throw their best at this surgery, but limb replacements were so common almost any Phantom could do it blindfolded.

  That didn’t make watching it any easier.

  Thea worked tirelessly; her strong shoulders hunched as the reconstruction reached its seventh hour. She’d originally intended to get some sleep after the briefing, but instead made a beeline for Nessa after hearing the procedure was still in progress.

  She was past the point of hurting herself, but didn’t care. Even if it nearly killed her, Thea would be there until the Li-Tech leg was properly integrated with Nessa’s body.

  Sadly, despite as far as he’d come in the last two years, all Jack could do was watch.

  And watch, he did.

  He was deep in his power, forcing himself to watch the medical procedure needed because of his incompetence. It wasn’t healthy to obsess over something like this, but how could he not? Wasn’t he supposed to care about the people under his command?

  In another wing, he watched the doctor record a note that Captain Griffin may never regain her prior capabilities. Every moment of glory had a cost. It just turned out the cost today was potentially her future in the AHF. A person couldn’t just take over the empty shell of Benjamin Hargrave and walk away with no repercussions.

  Back in the operating room, Thea and the doctor worked hard to fuse bone and metal.

  He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt this experience would affect Nessa more than she would ever admit. Even without knowing her past very well—her extremely traumatic life left her more than a little tight-lipped—he knew she was always seeking the next level of physical perfection.

  “How does she look?” Warren asked, walking up with Candice in tow.

  “Rough,” he said, “but knowing her, she will just act like it’s another day in the office.”

  “We can only hope. Nessa is far more complex than you guys know, and she does her best to hide that fact from anyone.”

  “Why? Does she think we will judge her for something?” Candice asked.

  “She does. She thinks the moment we saw weakness in her, we would lose respect and kick her out of the squad. So, she wears the mask: She’s mean because she cares, her anger fuels the inner fire, and she’s reserved because most people in her life have done everything possible to show her how worthless she was,” Warren explained sadly.

  “But she’s the most skilled person in our squad,” Jack said. “She shouldn’t be so hard on herself. Doesn’t she know we are all here to stand with her?”

  “Yes Jack, don’t you know we’re all here and we stand with you? You have the same problem as Nessa, but not for the same reason. You’ve convinced yourself that every shortcoming is your fault,” Warren replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

  “But it is my fault. If I were a better lead–”

  “Oh, cut the crap. Not everything that happens is because of you. Ortiz didn’t die because of you, Nessa wasn’t hurt because of you,” Candice said, cutting him off, “We all survived because of Ortiz’s sacrifice and your quick thinking, Nessa survived because you made the right call and left her on the ground while we finished killing that bastard.”

  “But the Captain,” Jack started.

  “The Captain got hurt because she made the choice to save our squad when nobody else could. There is nothing, not a damned thing, you could’ve done better in that scenario,” Warren said.

  “Thea looks like she’s about to collapse.” Candice said, changing the subject.

  “She’s close to it. Her HUD has been yelling at her to stop channeling Light for about an hour now. Each time, she has an orderly bring her some food, and she gets right back to it,” Jack said. “She really is amazing.”

  “She’s really going to get hurt like Griffin if she doesn’t stop. There are more Phantoms on the ship,” Candice said, a look of worry etched on her face.

  “That’s what makes them such a solid couple. Neither one knows when to step back and let others take the reins. Meanwhile, they complain that nobody else is helping,” Warren replied, drawing a glare from Jack, “What? You know it’s true. Even the slightest amount of introspection would tell you this.”

  “Is this your way of telling me to take a rest?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, it is. But before you do, go get that Viking girl out of the O.R. and drag her back to your cabin. She’s visibly drained, and I know for a fact you’re still maintaining three threads. How long is this now, fourteen hours?”

  “Closer to twenty.”

  “You’re going to blind yourself if you don’t quit. The injured will be fine without your presence,” Warren said, tapping on the glass to get a nurse’s attention and motioning to Thea.

  “Fine,” Jack conceded after seeing the gaunt look on Thea’s face. Warren was right, he could barely maintain the threads anymore, and Thea was closer to becoming another patient than she wasn’t. It was time to get some food, and then some sleep. Warren was right, continuing to push themselves like this would only end in more people getting hurt.

  It was good advice, and not worth wasting.

  ~~**~~

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “How’s the leg?” Warren asked, stepping into the recovery room with an obnoxious smile plastered on his face.

  “Down the throat of some bastard right before he died,” Nessa replied in a mockingly chipper voice. She never felt like she could talk to the others like this, but Warren was a different matter entirely. He knew what her layers of protection concealed, and he knew why she had them.

  After all, he’d been right beside her, living a waking nightmare for years.

  “Yeah, it’s a real bitch when that happens. At least it’s not as bad as when I got my dick stuck in a toaster. Do you remember that?”

  Nessa snorted at the memory. It happened during a dare on one of the few nights they’d been able to escape their constant watch. And, with typical teenage stupidity, they immediately found the worst ideas possible and did all of them.

  “I remember that one. You’re lucky I had my pocket knife with me, or you would have been trying to explain something quite embarrassing to those parents of yours.”

  “If I recall, the only reason I did it was because you tried to call my bluff. I think I said: ‘I’d rather have sex with a toaster than a woman?’” he replied, sitting at the foot of her bed.

  “Yeah, well, you proved how little attraction you have for women,” pulling herself to a sitting position, she took her first look at her newly attached limb, “Before I went out, I asked them if it was possible to make it match my skin tone… I saw Roberts, and I didn’t want to look like that.”

  “I get it. Just because you’re a cyborg now doesn’t mean you want the entire universe to know. Wait… Does this mean your kind hides among us humans?”

  “Not sure, but I have the slightest inclination to throw this tray of food at you. Do you think that’s the machine directive to kill you?” She said, picking up a plate of cold spaghetti and moving as if to throw it.

  “Well, I’d imagine the plan is a little more involved than covering your friend in cold pasta.”

  “Nope, that’s the directive, and I’m sticking to it.”

  They laughed, and she set the plate of truly unappetizing food back on a tray. When they met each other’s gaze again, the jokes were gone. Only the faces of people who’d seen far too much in far too short a time remained.

  “Did they fully integrate it yet?” Warren asked, grabbing her calf and feeling the new leg.

  It was almost perfect. The skin was soft yet pliable like real human flesh. The doctor camouflaged it well, hiding the specially crafted woven titanium polymer from all but the keenest observer. If he didn’t know better, Warren would’ve never known that cables and servos had replaced muscle and bone.

  But neither of them was untrained. The leg was flawless, and they both knew the number of scars that covered her body like a woven tapestry. Each one was both a lesson from her father and the physical manifestation of her weakness.

  “It’s only connected to my HUD at the moment. The doctor says they need to wait to implant the interface once my body has recovered enough to handle it. Until then I’m a slave to this stupid thing,” she said, waving to her HUD, “Without it, I can’t even walk.”

  Nessa pulled the knee to her chest and prodded the material where flesh met tech. On one side, it was her own familiar skin, cool to the air, yet warming the longer she touched it. Beyond that, the material had an unnatural heat. Unlike her true body, it radiated a perfect, steady temperature.

  Perfect, but alien.

  “They also claim that I’ll start feeling it again after the implant, but I’m not so sure about that. Will it feel like my old one? The doctor claims it has just as many nerve endings as a human leg, but I have my fears about that. Will I be able to move like myself? It’s going to be attached to my brain, so the answer should be yes…” She lifted her leg, stretching it out like a dancer getting ready for a show, “Will I ever be able to truly unplug, or will I be reliant on my power to live in any recognizable fashion?”

  “I’m not sure. Right now, you only have one thing to go on, and that’s what they decide to tell you. They claim you’ll have everything you lost and more, but who knows how true that really is? I imagine the tech has to match the level of danger out there, but how many Breakers are like you? How many learned to wield a blade before they could walk?” Warren said quietly, laying down beside his oldest friend and holding her.

  It wasn’t the grasp of a lover, it never would be, but something even more precious to Nessa. Every time that bastard hurt her, Warren had been there to bandage the wounds. Every time her father had torn her down to a shadow of herself, Warren made her believe she could grow stronger. Warren was like a brother to her. It was a bond that was formed over many years, and it was one that would last a lifetime.

  “What I can tell you is that no matter what, I’ll be right here with you. Until you’ve regained yourself in both body and mind, I’ll be here. If that means being your punching bag, again, I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, taking comfort in his presence. She was glad that he was here just to be here and not because he was looking for something she could never give. It was something most men didn’t understand, but he did. “But right now, I need a beer and something dead to eat. I don’t really care what kind of beer, and I don’t much mind where the meat comes from.”

  “Well then, I guess we’re on our way out of here. You sure the Phantoms won’t beat me with a stick if I smuggle you out?” Warren asked, hopping off the bed and offering his hand.

  “That would make you far too happy.”

  “I didn’t say they would beat my stick, but if that’s the direction we’re going, there are more than a few that look like they could fill that hole rather nicely.”

  “Let’s just go,” she said with a dejected sigh. “The doctor said the recovery time was nonexistent, but I will need to use you as a crutch.”

  “You can’t use me as your stick. That would make you far too happy,” he said, smiling as he grabbed a fresh set of boots from the corner.

  “That makes no sense… at all.”

  Slowly pulling a new boot over new skin, she silently lamented the loss of her old pair. Sure, standard-issue boots would shape to the wearer within moments of first being put on, but like her leg, they felt alien. There was still a strong sense of loss for the old leg, and she suspected it would be this way for a while. Without the brain implant, the new leg was just an extension of her armor. It barely reacted to her commands, and when it did, it was like her thoughts were being processed through a strainer.

  Wrapping an arm around Warren’s shoulder, the pair hobbled out of the room and down the hall. They were almost home free, but an orderly turned a corner right as Warren gave the command for the elevator doors to open.

  “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” the man shouted, making a scene in the hallway, “Specialist Alexander, I know you’re not trying to take this soldier from my sick bay. She just had a limb re-attachment and is still in recovery.”

  “Yeah, Corporal, we figured it wouldn’t be a big deal,” Warren said. “Doc said she would be fine after surgery long as she didn’t overdo it.”

  “You’re not taking my patient!”

  “Our medic will be with her all night. If something happens, Alfson will be on the scene faster than you could get to her room from wherever it is you spend the night jerking off. But you need to check yourself. No ‘re-attachment’ happened today. Her leg, the real one, got eaten by an entity you’ve only heard stories about. So unless you’re prepared to go down to the planet, find the puddle of goo that was the creature, take Nessa’s charred stick of a leg back, and sew it on, you really need to watch what you say.”

  The orderly went pale. He knew many soldiers were injured during the most recent mission, but hearing even those tiny few details made him want to be sick.

  “She needs rest,” the orderly said quietly.

  “This woman is a hero to her squad and her company. I know that proper rest would do her some good, but so will good food and the presence of her friends. Now, please move before she decides to test how far she can shove a foot up your ass.”

  Taking a cautionary step back, the orderly played his next card. “What about the integration chip? It still needs to be done.”

  “What about it? They can’t install it without her. And since she can’t remove her HUD without losing the ability to walk, I promise she won’t miss the message to come down here.”

  “Please move, Corporal,” Nessa said tiredly, “I’m starving.”

  The pair moved to sidestep the orderly, and he let them. Trying to try one last time, he asked, “What happens if you can’t work the thing?”

  “Well, that would really suck, wouldn’t it? Luckily, I’ve got a squad at my back, both on the field and off. At the very least, we have a Possessor that can help me back, and at worst we have a Dave.”

  “A Dave?” he asked with a confused look on his face while holding open the elevator doors.

  “Yeah, a Dave. If I can’t walk back here, he’ll carry me,” she smiled, pushing his hand away from the doors and allowing them to close, “I’ll be back for the implant, don’t worry about me too much while I’m gone.”