Brackenshaw sat with her hands clasped together, legs extended and ankles cross, staring across the table at a man she knew and trusted with her life.

At least, until now.

The interrogation room had been converted from one of Stamm Basin's holding cells. Dealing with internal threats was something that, until now, the humans of Rychter hadn't needed to truly worry about. The cells on the base were generally reserved for a soldier who needed to sleep off too much shiner, or to separate brawling comrades when tensions within units spilled out. War was a stressful thing, after all.

This kind of formal interrogation, however, was not normal.

She looked at Boxley, trying to piece this mess together. Devon Boxley had served almost as long as she had – a Brekkan native down to his bones. They'd fought together in the Battle of Brekka, and in the campaign that followed it. He'd followed her into the worst kind of hell in the depths of the Scraegar Labyrinth, fought the hideous Crawlers in the darkest dark. He was man who'd been part of her platoon for years; a fine soldier, reliable and as brave as anyone she'd ever served with.

And now she was accusing him of treason.

How had it come to this?

The recording on board the Mammoth finished playing out in front of them, and the projector fell dormant again, fully revealing the Scout Sergeant sitting opposite her. To her left, Aurelia sat stiffly, her face barely containing the contempt that simmered just beneath the surface.

Boxley just looked at the projector for a second, his lips twisting into a remorseful smile as he slowly folded his arms and sank deeper into his chair. Eventually he did her the decency of looking her in the eye before he spoke.

"Bloody battlecams," he murmured. "How'd you get them so fast?"

Brackenshaw's jaw tightened. "That's all you've got to say to me? After all this time? After every piece of River-drowned hell that we've floated through, that's it?"

He straightened up again, the smile quickly fading from his face. His shoulders heaved with a heavy breath and he nodded.

"I suppose that's fair. For what it's worth, Lieutenant, I'm sorry you're the one on that side of the table. You were always a good officer."

"We got the footage because we have friends in high places," Aurelia snapped. "Friends in higher places than you, it would seem."

"Oh, you think so?" Boxley tutted, shaking his head. "Not that you'll ever know, but I'd love to compare notes on that someday."

"So you admit that you aided Nallas Parshar in smuggling an illegal explosive onto a military transport," she erupted. "And in so doing, you've helped restart a war with the Scraegans?"

"It's all on the recording." Boxley inclined his head to the projector.

"Everflowing," Brackenshaw muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "I don't understand."

"Sure you do."

"Never took you for a fanatic, Boxley. You always seemed like you had more brains than that."

"Sorry I didn't meet your expectations." He shrugged. "But it's all a matter of perspective isn't it? You think I'm crazy for wanting to finish what we started fifty years ago? I think people like you are crazy for thinking we can turn around and make peace with the things that have been trying to kill us since we landed on this piss-damned planet."

"Watching bloody Lords, Boxley! We fought with the Scraegans – together, you and me. Side by side with those 'things'."

"Yes, I did, because there was something worse. The Crawlers are dead, Brackenshaw. They're gone. We don't need the Scraegans any more and by the River they sure don't need us. How long do you think it'll be before they start pushing north again? How long before they start attacking towns and murdering people?"

"You don't know that."

"You think they're some kind of hive mind? Think they all want peace with us because you've met a handful of them that do?" Boxley leaned forward suddenly. "What happened to the team down there at the Scraegar Labyrinth, eh, Lieutenant? Who killed them?"

"You fired first," Aurelia growled. "But I suppose that part of the story doesn't suit the shit you're spinning quite so well, does it?"

"Someone had to do something."

"No they didn't," Brackenshaw cut in, shaking her head. "Boxley, we had a shot at ending the fighting. It was there – it was real. I felt it. I saw it."

He sighed. "You saw a mirage."

"What?"

"Brackenshaw, I respect you. You know that. I may even understand why you think the way you do, but you're wrong. Maybe you've just had enough. You've been fighting for too long and now you want to stop. You want to go home and not have to think about a Scraegan smashing down your door. You want to believe in peace because after all this time it's something we deserve."

"If you believe that then why-?"

"Because the only way we get that peace – a real peace – is by putting an end to the Scraegans, permanently," he interrupted. "That's the only way we ensure that our sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters and however many more generations down the line don't have to die the same way our ancestors did."

"If you get your way we're not going to have any ancestors," Aurelia said. "You're going to get us all killed."

Boxley rolled his eyes. "Pissing Rivers, what does it matter? I'm never going to change your mind, you're not about to change mine, and I think you know that. So what in the Everflowing am I doing here?"

Brackenshaw raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, Sergeant. I think you know why you're here."

"If you think I'm going to give you any information, I think you're going to be disappointed."

"We'll see about that." Aurelia's voice was ice cold and she looked down from Boxley to the data slate in front of her. "I've done a little digging on you, Sergeant. Have to say, there's not a lot here that would mark you as a traitor."

She saw him bristle at the word, but he didn't bother retorting, instead receding back into his seat again, watching and waiting.

"Not a lot," Aurelia continued. "But enough."

"How'd you know Parsher?" Brackenshaw asked.

"Just another soldier of the line. Saw him on the base every day, just like you."

"And how did you end up working with him to start a war?"

He snorted. "Brekka's a busy place. People talk. Sometimes like-minded people hear each other. One thing leads to another."

"Mmm." Aurelia pursed her lips. The screen of the data slate flicked. "And your sister, is she a like-minded person?"

He looked at her sharply. "Sadly not."

"No? I find that a little hard to believe." She pivoted the data slate around to show him. "Daily calls logged between you, for almost two months now. In all of that, you never talked about the Scraegans?"

"Of course we talked about the Scraegans," he replied. "But my sister works an irrigation rig. She's not a soldier. She's got nothing to do with any of this."

"I'm afraid she doesn't have that luxury anymore." Somehow Aurelia's tone got even colder. "Actions have consequences, Sergeant. You might be a soldier willing to nail your soul to a cause, but something tells me she won't be."

Brackenshaw shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Threatening family members wasn't exactly how she'd hoped this meeting would go. Honestly, she wasn't sure what she'd been hoping for. But she stayed quiet, watching the frustration edge across Boxley's face.

"She's not a part of this," he insisted.

"I'm not about to take your word for it," Aurelia shot back, fixing him with a withering look. "The word of a murderer and a traitor."

"I'm not a murderer."

"Yes you are." Aurelia shook her head in disgust. "Every single soldier who dies from this day forward, their blood is on your hands. Maybe you can live with that. And if you can, I can certainly live with getting my hands dirty to try and stop you." She tapped the data slate again and shoved it closer to him so he could see the images on the screen. The faces of men and women, friends and family, scattered through the city.

"You've got a life out in Brekka, sergeant. That's quite an oversight for someone who wants to be a revolutionary. It gives people like me a little too much leverage."

"Drown yourself."

"You see, I'm no soldier. I'm something a lot more dangerous. Unlike Lieutenant Brackenshaw, I don't know you, and I don't care what I have to do to you to make this right. So I'm going to find everyone you've ever spoken to, everyone you've shared a glass of shiner with, every relative, everyone you've ever whispered bad things to in the dark, and I'm going drag them kicking and screaming through the gates of Stamm Basin. Some of them will walk out, some of them won't, and sooner or later, one of them will crack, and tell us what we need to know."

She clasped her hands together and leaned her elbows on the table, fixing her eyes on Boxley. "Or you can tell me now, and save everyone the trouble of that unpleasant business."

Brackenshaw couldn't stop herself from glancing furtively at her companion. She really didn't know just how much of that threat Aurelia planned on carrying through with if Boxley didn't cooperate.

"Lay a finger on my family and I'll break you in half," he snarled back, his composure evaporating.

"Boxley," she leaned across the table, staring straight into his eyes, "it doesn't have to be like this! Everflowing, you could stop all of this today. Just tell us who you're working with. Tell us who's supplying you, who's bankrolling this lunacy and we can stop it all."

"You can't stop it, neither of you." He took a breath, glowering at Aurelia. "If you want to start hurting people, you'd better hurry, because there's a northern army about to come knocking on your door. Every city united, and when they get here, I guarantee we'll be on different sides of this table."

"Not every city," she hissed. "Not the one you're sitting in. The one where people know the Scraegans the best."

"And how would you know where the northern army is?" Aurelia cocked her head to one side. "It's hardly common knowledge for a soldier of the line."

"I told you. I think my friends might be higher than yours."

"Higher than the Commissariat?"

"We don't need the Commissariat," he said, an edge of pride in his voice. "They've already shown they don't have the stomach to do what needs to be done. There are plenty of other people who will. People who know where their loyalties lie."

He was so confident that he didn't realise the small but crucial titbit of information he'd just thrown their way. Someone in the north was communicating with the extremists in Brekka. Coordinating with them to do... what?

A sense of foreboding washed over her. Despite the trail they were following, they still didn't really know what Boxley's people were capable of. There were a few dozen individuals scattered through Brekka's military branches identified and already under surveillance, but there could be hundreds, even thousands more throughout the city.

"The Commissariat," she said quietly. "You're waiting for the northern army to arrive, then you're going after the Commissariat."

He looked at her, and some of the bravado faded from his face. He opened his mouth to retort, but before the words could come out, a klaxon suddenly blared through the speakers in the holding area. It was a rhythmic mid-range pulse, an alert signal rather than an all out emergency, but it was still more than enough to set the hairs standing up on the back of Brackenshaw's neck.

She looked at Aurelia. The other woman stood up slowly, placing a hand to her earpiece. Then someone knocked on the door. Aurelia turned quickly, one hand falling to the sidearm at her hip as she reached for the handle.

When she pulled it open, however, they found a nervous-looking Corporal Locke on the other side.

"Corporal?"

"Sorry to interrupt, ma'am." Locke saluted, though her eyes flicked skittishly to Boxley for a moment. "But I think you'd both better come with me."

"What's going on?" Brackenshaw demanded.

Locke bit her lip. "There's an army marching down the Marratora Highway flying flags from every damned city in the north. They want us to open the gates, and this time they're not asking nicely."

"What in the Everflowing does that mean?"

"Brekka's Commissariat ignored them when they called a vote," Boxley interjected, smugness creeping back into his voice. "Actions have consequences, Lieutenant."

"Bloody Rivers," she swore, glancing at Aurelia. "So much for friends in high places, eh?"

"Lanto did everything he could."

She turned back to Boxley, anger finally beginning to punch through all the disbelief and denial as she glared at him. He smiled back at her, and this time there was no remorse in it.

"Sorry, Kaydie," he said. "It looks like you're too late."