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Fiera watched the screens as Icrtara loomed closer. Her stomach was in knots. This was the closest to home she’d been in seven years. There was no sense of relief, no rush of delight at the thought of returning to the Colonies. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, she’d hoped this day would never come.

She still loved her people and her home. She also loved the life she’d built on Bouarus. Even though that life was built on murder and lies, a voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Her temper flared and she ground her teeth together. Her father had a lot to answer for and she was going to pound him into the ground, one blow for every death on the Lusitania. Assuming her mother didn’t have Keoni and Phelix pull her away of course. That many blows might actually kill her father but at this point Fiera still wasn’t sure if she cared.

“You’re looking particularly angry this morning,” Kuen said, passing her some coffee. “You might want to hide the fact you want to kill someone.”

“I don’t want him dead,” Fiera corrected him as she took the coffee. “I just want him to suffer a horrendous beating at my hands for everything he’s done.”

Kuen put an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t blame you. Just hide your general intent or they won’t let you off the ship.”

“You’re assuming I want off,” Fiera muttered.

“I know you don’t. You’ve made it clear that leaving Bouarus isn’t something you wanted to do. I told you why we needed you safely away from certain members of our society, Fiera.” He tilted his head to one side. “Can you tell me that you’d want to be used like that?”

Fiera shook her head. “I know why this is necessary. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Here, come with me for a moment,” Kuen said. “Bring your coffee. You have a rather short fuse if you don’t get your morning dose of scalding hot bean water.”

Fiera smirked. “You’re not much better.”

“Ah, but I’ve already had mine.” He led her out of the dining hall and back to their suite. “I know you’ve already bought some new clothes so you won’t stand out as much, and I did arrange for the sale of your jewelry as you requested.”

“You’ll see to it that the credits from the sales go to Xenon, Cali, Lil, and Dev?” Fiera asked.

“I’ve already made the arrangements for the transfers, once the sales have gone through.” Kuen went to a drawer and reached inside. “I want you to keep this though, to remember me with.” He handed her the phoenix brooch.

Fiera closed her hand around it. “This is far too fine for a farmgirl,” she said, her voice cracking. He took it from her, and she let him fasten it under the collar of her bodysuit.

“This will also probably be too fine for a farmer, but I want you to have it too. I’d hoped to – to one day give it to you for a different reason.” Kuen pulled a tiny box out of his pocket and opened it.

Nested on a background of crushed red velvet was a ring made of black gold. A dark blue opal heart gleamed in the dim light. Tiny sapphires no bigger than a grain of sand formed a frame for the opal.

“Kuen, this is stunning.” Fiera felt her throat close with unspoken emotions as she lifted the ring out. She slipped it onto her left ring finger. It fit perfectly.

Kuen cradled her face in his hands. “I would have married you in a heartbeat, if I were given the chance, Fiera Rezouac. One day I hope that chance comes. Even if it doesn’t, I hope that you will never forget that there is one Core Worlder who loves you because you are a strong, willful pain in the afterburners who also happens to be an amazingly intelligent and clever person who can still knock me on my ass regularly.”

Fiera laughed in spite of the tears spilling over her cheeks. Kuen was very good at making her cry, something she seldom did before coming to the Core. “I love you too, you oversized pain in my tail.” He kissed her and then the klaxon sounded to let them know the shuttles were boarding.

“Try not to get yourself killed,” Kuen said. “I want to have someone to come find after all of this is over.”

“I need you to find me after the war ends, so you stay alive,” Fiera said. He walked her and her single bag down to where the passengers were gathering. He handed her a small bag that held a credit chip and her PID. He kissed her once more before she got on the shuttle.

Fiera did her best to hide her distress from everyone around her. She listened to the hushed whispers and caught on to the fact that they were all as aware as she was that the war was coming. The shuttle dropped quickly and deposited its passengers on Icrtara.

Decontamination went smoothly and Fiera made her way to one of a long string of bank stations. She checked the balance on her credit chip and kissed her ring in lieu of being able to kiss Kuen. He’d not only secured all of the money she’d saved working for Iacchus, but he’d also matched the amount so she had more than enough to get home to Sorus.

Or go wherever she wanted. Fiera went next to a public comm. She punched in her family’s farm code and waited. A vaguely familiar face answered. The girl on the other end was staring at her for a minute before screaming, “Ma, it’s Fury! She’s callin’!”

Fiera grinned when her sister – probably Muirne, judging by the age – got shoved out of the chair and their mother took her place. “Fury? Is it really you?” Alena’s luminous turquoise eyes were wide and hopeful.

“Hey Ma, I’m back in Colony space. What’s the latest?” Fiera asked, slipping back into the dialect of the Colonies with ease.

“Yer da took off with a price of ten mil on his head. Haven’t seen him in near on to three years now. Keo, Flicks, Marc, and Nev have joined the growing military. Teigue’s a medic and is at the med center in town. Minnie’s pregnant, which is why she’s answering the comm instead of out with your brothers. The youngest four are fair kipped they can’t join the army, but cut off is sixteen and they’re not old enough,” Alena said.

“Sixteen?” Fiera was appalled. “They’re fair daft on that one, Ma.”

“You and me are in agreement on that one, Fury. You comin’ home first? Or you headin’ straight for Recruitment?” Alena asked.

“Where’s Recruitment?” Fiera asked.

“Totov. They’ve forced the CAF off there and they were usin’ it as a trainin’ world for a while so our people have taken over the old base,” Alena said.

“Think I’ll head to Recruitment. The war’s comin’ fast. That’s why I came home instead of stayin’ and doin’ my job,” Fiera said.

“Yer aunt is madder than a starcat in a thunderstorm at you right now.” Alena chuckled. “It was like listenin’ to yer da when she called.”

“Oh, I’m madder than that at her and da, given what he did to get me into the Core in the first place.” Fiera’s expression must have been grim.

“Will I want to bury him alive in the mines if you tell me?” Alena asked.

“Are you okay with mass murder, Ma?” Fiera asked.

“I’ll bury him myself.”

“Thought so. If he slinks home tell him I want to have one of our old style talks with him when I get back from this mess.” Fiera glanced over shoulder. There was a line forming. “There’s not too many of these public comms available and there’s a line, Ma. If they let me, I’ll call you from Totov.”

“Good to know yer back home where you belong, Fury. Call me soon as you can and tell yer brothers to call too if they can.” Alena ended the call.

Fiera got up and walked over to a hair stylist. “Whack it all off. I’m a farm girl and don’t need the fluff.”

The man chuckled. “You were in the Core, weren’t you?” he asked as he pulled out his shears.

“Yeah, had to go do business with some of the drek. Wouldn’t take me seriously unless I looked more like them,” Fiera said.

“They just don’t like the fact that it’s hard to tell our women from our men.” He cut off her hair and neatened it up.

She paid him before making her way to the ticket counter. She passed over the PID that – she hoped – would prove her status as a Colonist. “Ticket to Totov,” she said.

The woman scanned the PID. Her eyes widened. “You’re a Rezouac?” she asked.

“Is my name a problem?” Fiera asked.

“No, no, not a problem. It’s just that I saw couple men come through a few months ago with the same name.”

“Prob’ly my brothers. I’ve been dealing with business. Now, can I get my ticket or not?” Fiera was irritated.

Fiera got her ticket. She noted the departure time, shot the woman a nasty look, and sprinted across the port to her gate with seconds to spare to get on the shuttle. This time the vessel she wasn’t traveling on wasn’t a comfortable passenger liner. It was a military personnel transport.

Fiera slipped her brooch and ring off, sealing them inside an inner pocket in her bag, just as a man in a makeshift uniform approached her and the other would be recruits. “Name, age, and homeworld,” he barked.

The others spoke up instantly. Fiera waited for them to quiet down. “Fiera Rezouac, thirty-two, Sorus.”

“Rezouac? Another one of you? How many members of your family are we going to be stuck with?” the man grumbled.

“You should only have five of us from my branch of the family. We’re the only ones old enough. Cousins?” Fiera shrugged. “No clue. Uncle Lanre had a big brood too.”

The man snorted and stormed off to go question the next group. “You’re a Rezouac?” one of those who was seated next to her asked.

“Just said I was, didn’t I?” Fiera snapped.

“Yer da is a monster,” the man said.

“You won’t hear me argue that point with you.” Fiera shrugged. “He don’t listen to no one, has a thing ‘bout killin’ when he doesn’t need to, and is the main person behind us gettin’ sent off to die for the Colonies. You think I really like my da right now?”

“You mean you aren’t fanatically devoted to your father?” one of the others asked.

“No one’s that devoted to me da,” Fiera said. “Leastwise no one with a decent amount of smarts is. Can’t say ‘bout me brothers.”

Laughter broke out in the group at the dig against her brothers. It lightened the mood and talk turned to what they could expect. Others joined them once the ship was in darkspace, and soon they were all swapping stories about their lives and homeworlds.

Fiera went to bed earlier than usual that night. She remembered what Kuen and Gaspare told her about military life, and she had a feeling they were going to start things early.

A hideously loud klaxon woke her at what the tablet she’d been issued said was 0400. “I was right,” she muttered. “Too slaggin’ early.” She splashed water on her face and hair, did a quick wipe down with one of the bath wipes, and pulled on a clean ship suit. She laced up her boots and stepped outside her door.

A woman dressed in the same makeshift uniform came down the corridor, whacking on doors with a heavy fist. There were some who were already out in the hall, like Fiera, but the rest stumbled out in various stages of undress.

A man came down the corridor a short time later. “This is pathetic,” he sneered. “Only a handful of you seem to understand that you’re in the military now. That klaxon goes off, you need to be up, dressed, and ready for inspection within ten minutes. Most of you aren’t even fully dressed.”

“It’s too early to worry about clothes,” A woman with a towel wrapped around her said.

The man walked over and ripped the towel off the woman. She was completely unclothed beneath it. “You’re not wet, this towel is also completely dry, so I’ll assume you sleep in the buff. Next time I see you without clothes on it’s five lashes.” He threw the towel back at her.

“Hey, I’ve got a right to privacy,” the woman snapped, wrapping her towel back around herself. “Stupid piece of drek.”

Fiera winced as the man in uniform backhanded the woman. She slammed into the bulkhead, sliding in a semi-conscious heap onto the floor. “None of you have the right to privacy. You’re not on a passenger liner. You’re in the military and we have to get you in shape for your trainin’ by the time we reach Totov. So I suggest you remember that and follow orders.”

The next week was an absolute nightmare for everyone, including Fiera. More than once she ended up being whipped for preventing her “commanding officers” from stealing her jewelry, beating up on the weaker recruits, and standing up for herself when they expected her to be cowed.

She knew this would mark her as rebellious and could potentially see her put in the brig when they arrived on Totov. Yet her natural instinct to fight against bullies, which led her to fight the CWA in the first place, refused to subside when dealing with these men and women wearing what passed for military uniforms.

They arrived on Totov, and the group left the transport. They were stripped and given actual uniforms upon their arrival. Fiera fastened the phoenix brooch to the inside of her uniform and slipped the ring onto a chain around her neck with her ID tags. She was just glad it didn’t flash in the sunlight like some other things did. It still went under her uniform top though.

A man in a much more tailored version of the Colonies’ military uniform strode out into the courtyard and called them all to order. He informed them that they would be tested on a number of skills and at the conclusion of those evaluations they’d be assigned to a unit based on their performance. “If you have any questions, concerns, or complaints, choke them down, recruits. You’re not civilians anymore so your opinions don’t matter,” he said in conclusion before leaving them in the hands of some other uniformed officers.

The evaluations were a series of increasingly difficult physical and mental tests designed to break the new recruits down. Fiera had no doubt her physical abilities were on par with the average soldier’s. The mental stress tests were the larger concern for her, since she really couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t break under pressure.

Finally, in the end, Fiera was assigned to one of the many Marine units. A tall, lanky man groaned when he saw her name. “Not another Rezouac,” he moaned.

A head full of cherry red curls popped up from a bed. “Another one of us? What, did Teigue split off from the medics after all?”

“Nah, he’d rather play medic than fight, Flicks. You know him better’n that,” Fiera called, her heart clenching in her chest as she recognized the speaker.

There was a moment of silence. “Fury!” Phelix, Fiera’s twin brother, was off his bunk and across the room in half a heartbeat. He scooped her up and spun her around. “I didn’t think you’d make it into my unit.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Heard tell from ma you’re not the only one who joined up. Know where the other Roughlings are?” Fiera asked, pounding her brother on the back.

“Keo’s another ground pounder like us. Nev’s workin’ with the medics. He can’t hit a target the size of a slaggin’ liner with only three meters between him and it so they thought that was the safest spot for him,” Phelix said as he put her down, grinning like the crazy man she knew him to be.

Fiera also knew her smile matched his. “What about Marc?”

“He’s a flyboy, believe it or not. The one out of all of us who’s terrified of heights ends up bein’ some kind of genius crack pilot,” Phelix said with a laugh. “Minnie had her baby yet?”

“She was still waitin’ to pop when I last talked to ma. By the way, she’d like us to call if we get the chance,” Fiera said.

“Hard to get a comm on family nights but I bet between you and me we can manage,” Phelix said. “Come on, stash your kit. Bunk above me’s empty. No one wants to listen to me snorin’.”

Fiera snorted. “Years of that back on the farm means I’ll sleep right through it.” She stowed her kit and flopped on the lower bunk next to her twin. “It’s good to see you again, Flicks.”

“I’ve missed your face, ya daft twint,” Phelix said, hugging her again. “You doin’ good?”

“Nah, the trip here from Icrtara was a nightmare. Don’t much like bullies. You know that,” Fiera said.

“Ah, you got stuck on one of them ships then. Marc did too. Me and Keo got lucky. We got C.O.s on ours that talked to us like we was humans,” Phelix said.

“Not us.” Fiera recounted the entire trip from Icrtara to Totov, and then what she’d encountered upon her arrival.

“Oi, Rezouac One, you two even talkin’ galactic basic over there?” the officer who’d complained about Fiera asked, butting into their conversation.

“Twinspeak,” Phelix said. “Let’s us catch up on our family gossip in half the time as you singletons.”

“Skathi,” Fiera swore in Arpathi. “Didn’t realize we’d slipped into that.”

“We do every time you and me get started on a convo, twint. Don’t let it get to you.” Phelix punched her arm lightly.

“Think you two could teach it to us?” the officer asked thoughtfully. “Might be useful to have a coded language to talk in.”

“Twinspeak is something between twins and can’t really be taught. We tried t’teach our ma and our sibs. None of ‘em ever got it,” Phelix said.

“We could try teachin’ them the quickspeak the farmhands use, maybe tweak it to work with military talk,” Fiera said.

“Quickspeak?” the officer asked.

Phelix nodded. “Back on the farm, when you’re in the middle of a big harvest or there’s some kind of storm you don’t got time to form full sentences. You need to get across complex ideas in as few words as possible. So quickspeak was devised. Each farm has its own variation.”

“Why don’t you two start on a list of commonly used words and go from there? We’ll work practice into our day,” the officer said. “We’ll see if we can’t put ourselves out ahead of some of these other squadrons.”

“It’s real competitive here right now, since we don’t have anyone else to go up against,” Phelix whispered to Fiera as they hunched over a pad. “How are you really? I know where da sent you.”

“I’m tryin’ t’get used to bein’ back in the Colonies. I arrived in Icrtara and came straight here after callin’ ma. Flicks, is it true da’s on the run?” Fiera added several common words to the list.

Phelix nodded. “Took off after they pinned the Lusitania on him and his shock troops ‘bout three years ago. Some tried to say you were in on it, but ma and I said you were a passenger and proved it. Told ‘em we never did find out if you survived or not ‘cause all the survivors got sold off. They didn’t seem to care ‘bout that one.”

“Course not. There’s no credits in carin’ ‘bout some rando Colony family and their missin’ kid. The things I saw and heard, Flicks.” Fiera shuddered. “I made some friends, one of which got me out so I could come home, but it’s still mostly a huge pile of rottin’ drek.”

“You ever manage to meet da’s sister?” Phelix asked as he added a few more words to the list.

“Met her, hate her almost as much as I do him,” Fiera said. She told him all the trouble she had with their aunt, leaving out the actual identifiers because even in twinspeak names were unmistakable.

Phelix shook his head. “You’ve had a hard time of it.”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Fiera muttered.

“Don’t tell me you went and fell in love with one of those slaggin’ Core Worlders.” Phelix gave her a hard look.

“Yeah, I did. Don’t matter now though, does it? If he shows up in my crosshairs he dies, like all the other ones.” Fiera’s heart clenched as she said that and she hoped very hard that neither Kuen nor Gaspare would show up in front of her.

“He give you anything to remember him by?” Phelix asked.

Fiera made sure none of the others were watching. She turned down her uniform so he could see the brooch and lifted her tags up just enough so he could see the ring. “Had ‘em both tested. No trackers, nor nothin’ the Core Worlders can use to find me,” she said when he stared at them.

“‘S’not why I’m starin’. That pin would feed a whole town on Sorus for a year with the current rationin’. And that ring. One of the tiny rocks would set ma for life, and a second would pay for the farmhands for ten years.” Phelix looked at her with real solemnity. “You’re wearin’ a massive amount of power there, Fury.”

“I’ll never sell my phoenix, but the ring I might end up partin’ out if it means makin’ sure everyone’s taken care of.” Fiera touched the spot on her uniform where the sharp pin sat between the layers of her shirt. “The phoenix was given to the one who gave it t’me by someone who tried to make them Core Worlders see the truth ‘bout the Colonies long before this. It’s a symbol of how, even though the dreamer might die, the goal of the Colonies bein’ free never will.”

Phelix put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re not goin’ t’die in this, Fury. You and me, we’re goin’ t’be around to torment each other’s grandkids. Isn’t that what we told each other?” “It is. And I still stand by that promise, Flicks.” They finished the list of basic words and then moved on to converting the military specific terminology into quickspeak. Fiera sent a silent meditation to the stars that both she and her family would come out of this alive, and that the two men she loved from the Core would also survive, and that they would not come under fire by her or any of her family.