The Battle was over, and Kalm Jakuul’s faction had lost. His army was decimated; even with the contingent still guarding the underground factory, Kalm knew it was pointless.
His Wife had won. There was no shame to lose to her. Kalm had only hope that-
“-I think we should go and see the victors.” Wune had spoken. The diminutive Master of the Lost Village was brought to him to discuss living arrangements inside the walls that were not in the dungeon. Kalm did not intend for them to be there, but Wune had insisted.
The Villagers followed his lead, and it tortured some of the Guard to have their families so close, but yet there was still divided.
Now it did not matter.
“I will take full responsibility of my own,” Kalm said, turning to regard Wune. “I will not have them punished for following me,”
“Noted, but you have to survive the encounter with your Brother by Marriage,” Wune spoke, his cane making the odd tapping noise as he departed from the Throne Room.
Kalm’s expression froze in shock. Tiberius was here. Tiberius, the male that had terrorized him in the Academy. The Fox who had single handedly throttled groups of students and flaunted their martial prowess.
The one encounter he dreaded to have until he was absolutely sure he could win them over with the idea that an ancestral enemy had married their only sister.
The Jackal loosened the rapiers at his side and rotated his shoulders. Hopefully. Tiberius would kill him before he would have to face Chase.
“I’ll pick them up on the way there, should be a few minutes.”
Jerry nodded, having managed to finally sit up. He had asked Wade to swing by and pick up Lukus and his Niece, as well as something else. Chase disproved only slightly, but everyone inside the inner keep swore no more violence.
Everyone but Jerry.
“I’ll deal with this bit,” the Fox grumbled as he saw a jet black Jackal being led down the flight of stairs from the Keep’s primary entrance.
“Jerry, you can’t even stand,” Chase pointed out.
“I want to talk to him,”
Dunlap snorted that assurance, “Only time yeh wanna talk to someone is when yer hands’er bout their throat.”
They both shot the Rabbit a glare, and Dunlap raised up their hands, “Right, shuttin’ up now,”
“Help me stand?” Jerry asked hands out to Chase. The Vixen frowned, still unsure of what her brother had intended. After a moment of hesitation, Chase picked her brother up rather easily and steadied him on his feet. Jerry hugged her. It was the first sign of affection the male had given her since they had seen each other.
Chase did not know what to make of it.
“I love you, sis,” Fox mumbled, and staggered away from her, leaving her at a loss for words.
Kalm looked over the bandaged Fox, and slowly recognition dawned on him.
“No,” The Jackal mouthed in disbelief. “Gods, Tiberius, is that you?”
Quickly, Kalm moved down the stairs faster to support the wounded Male before they fell on his face. The Fox recoiled some and shook their head, refusing his support as they balanced themselves at the last moment.
“Gods, what happened to your fur?”
“A scar of the Great War, And its Jerry, you can drop the Tiberius,” Jerry explained, neither telling the whole truth nor avoiding it. “I mean, we are Family. Did you at least wait until you thought I was dead?”
“It was the polite thing to do,” Kalm shrugged, toying with his Rapier hilts.
Jerry noted it, having his own saber at his side. The Fox unbuckled his sword belt, letting the weapon and protective leather fall to the dirt and straw at his feet.
Kalm’s blue eyes darted down, and unhooked one rapier, letting it fall to the ground on top of the Saber. “You could still use your hands and feet.”
“You could breathe heavy on me Kally boy,” the Fox raised his arms with his palms out, even that made him shift for balance.
“Short of my shitty wit, I think you don’t have to worry about me,” Jerry made a small gesture backward, “Besides, I think I like the idea of your Wife beating your head in,”
Kalm’s grimaced, shifting to easily pick out Chase, standing among, and somewhat over the crowd.
“Pity, I was rather looking forward to a clean death,” Kalm said with a grim smile. When he looked back to Jerry, the Fox was not. He recognized that expression instantly.
“To business then?”
“What the fuck are you thinking?” Jerry demanded sharply. Kalm looked rather uncomfortable at the question. As if he was not sure if he had to explain it.
“To go Home,” Kalm said after length, and Jerry shook their head in disappointment.
“At the head of an Army?” the Fox asked, “An invading force? To inflict suffering on the Innocent-?”
“-How Innocent are they?!” Kalm shouted, pointing out towards the distance to indicate the Republic of Acorn, the intended target he wanted to march on. “They spat on all what our fathers’ have done, I saw an opportunity to strike back at that accursed Republic and I took it,”
“Strike Back?” Jerry asked, looking Kalm over. “What had the Republic of Acorn ever done to you?”
Jerry paced, he limped, his legs shook, but he paced, “It’s brand new, right out of the box, besieged on all sides and you are going to add to its troubles by building an army of robots and re-establish a Kingdom because of what? Because they are too busy to stay alive to remember the dead that came before the dead they have now?”
“How did they betray you? I applaud your need to attack them but why? What is the reason? For forgetting your Father? Mobians are still dying out there-”
“-Don’t you dare belittle him,” Kalm snarled quietly. “He was honorable and just, like your own. Both of them. They deserve to be remembered!”
“Then remember him!” Jerry snarled back, meeting Kalm eye to eye; which was easy considering they were both average heights for their species.
“In fact, fuck the Republic! Fuck it. Let it burn to ash” Jerry stated bluntly. “But what do you think your Father would say if he learned that you were forcing these people to fight for something you yourself do not believe in?!”
Kalm’s face twisted between being unsure and angry. Kalm did not think of it like that. He wanted to strike out against Republic. He was sure he wanted to.
“Believe in it?! My Father-,” Kalm began, and this time Jerry cut him off.
“-Said what before he was taken from you?” came the question, and it fell on Kalm like a hammer blow.
“What did he say?” Jerry snapped at him even as the Jackal’s shoulders slumped. “Let ask one of the only few beings who walked away from Mina, Dunlap!”
Jerry partially turned and unconsciously placed his hand on Kalm for support. Kalm was too startled by the name of an Academy Friend to reject helping the obviously shaken Fox.
Out of the crowd came a Dunlap in an odd suit of armor and a rifle slung across his chest. There was a lazy smile on their face and a slow wave as their eyes met.
“Allo Kally Boy,”
“Dunny boy,” Kalm acknowledged the Rabbit, “You too?”
“Ain’t right watcha doin’ere ol’friend,” Dunlap explained, “This sort of path ye chose, me’d half expected Jerry there to take it,”
The Fox shot him a sidelong glance before looking back to Kalm. “Well, no offense Jerry, but ye would have,”
“What was the last thing Morten Jakuul said to you all before he passed?” Jerry asked again, staring into Kalm’s face.
Dunlap rotated their shoulders, as if reluctant to say anything. The Battle of Mina was where they had lost most of their ears not to mention many of his own Friends. It had not been a pretty battle and they liked to forget it as much as they liked to forget other things.
“More time lads,” Dunla finally admitted, “Give the children more time.”
“What do you think Morten would say to you now if he was alive?” Jerry pressed, not letting the famous last words sink in, his voice dripping with venom. “Targeting those very Children who are oblivious to what they have done? For the Children, now adults, that he died for?”
This time Kalm backhanded him. Jerry could not defend himself even if he tried, and not only staggered from the blow, but collapsed to the ground.
Kalm backed away, shocked at their own reaction, and slowly sank down against the steps behind him.
“I hate them for what they’ve done,” Kalm hissed bitterly. “They forgot the Price I paid. That my Family had paid.”
Jerry shifted, immediately waving at the crowd, as well as his Sister, to stay back away.
“Hate?” the Fox bombarded on the Jackal’s confidence in his chosen role, “You don’t hate, you grieve.” As he spoke, Jerry heard the roar of a transport closing in on the Fortress. Others heard it and looked to the sky, but the ship would land outside the Northern Gate where it had room.
“I hate them!” Kalm shouted at Jerry, but their voice cracked. They were not sure of this anymore. The thoughts had always been there but he had hidden them away. It was the same questions Chase had asked. It was the reason why he had stopped going home. She was slowly convincing him she was right.
Jerry as he called himself, was not the Mobian he remembered. Kalm was sure there would have been violence but from an orange, light brown-haired, ill-tempered creature. This one looked tired. There were dark circles under their eyes as if they could never get enough sleep. Where he expected steel, Jerry was stabbing at his core with a different form of weapon.
“Let’s talk about Hate,” Jerry finally managed to pull himself up. He had to struggle the whole way and Kalm had half the mind to help him. “Hate is where you don’t care if you live or die as long as the enemy before you falls first.”
“Hate is where you don’t shed a single tear for each Friend ripped apart by bombs or cut down in front of you as you charge headlong under the guns of death and oblivion. Hate only grows and gnaws at you with every grain of dirt tossed on a comrade’s body during their burial in areas you didn’t even know existed let alone remember.” As Jerry ranted on, his body regaining some new life as he paced before Kalm. “Hate is when you feel only elation as your enemies scream in terror when they realize that it’s their turn to face doom. Hate drives you to destroy, to kill without thought or mercy, to push on against all reason and sanity to land a single, solitary, spiteful blow. Hate blinds you to the beings you should call friends and has you push them away only so you can stain your sword with the blood of whom you Hate.”
As the Fox inhaled a shaken breath, he placed himself in front of Kalm.
“You were building a new bed for your Daughter, even as you two were fighting each other.”
The Jackal looked up rather shocked.
“Yes I know, I also know that Chase came here to visit you and plead that you come home, without the Guard’s knowledge, though I suspect a few knew,”
They both looked back to the Vixen, whose head dropped in some form of shame.
“You have no idea what the fuck Hate is, if you did, you would have cut all ties and left at the first opportunity that presented itself.” Jerry continued on, “But why believe me, I’m just an old foe you used to clash within schoolyard brawls,”
The Fox shifted, gesturing towards the crowd again as it parted once more, this time revealing Lukus, carrying a Rapier that Kalm instantly recognized.
Kalm’s Daughter was there as well, and his gaze shifted between the two of them. Edwina was holding his other hand, and she tugged on it when she saw her father, her own free hand stretched out to him. She looked excited and happy to see him.
“So you get the same choice I got to make.” the Fox spoke in a rather cruel sense. Kalm had stood and would have run forward if it was not for Jerry who placed himself in his path.
“You can choose the path of the sword, take my route,” they indicated by placing a hand on their bandaged chest. “Inflict horrors and evils that would tarnish your name forever in some books, while in others you wouldn’t even be mentioned, all for Hate.”
“Or,” Jerry turned slightly to gaze back towards Edwina, “You can choose the path our Father’s took before us, of life, of love, for Peace, and for the Children.”
“But you can only choose one.” Jerry warned Kalm, “You can’t have both,”
The Jackal moved around Jerry, not even looking to him as each footfall seem to shake his very soul.
Kalm sought the sword first. The finely crafted rapier that was the very symbol of the Jakuul House. His father had worn it until the day he returned from High-Low Tower. “I gave it to a Friend,” they had said and apologized to Kalm that they may never see it again.
That Friend had been Tyson Voxholm, once an Ancestral Enemy.
Yet here it was, and Kalm had to rip his eyes from it to force them on Edwina. The little thing was unsure why she was being held back, but she was still reaching for her Father, even as Chase had taken over for Lukus and held her daughter’s hand.
So tiny, so frail.
Kalm had not seen her for months and they were both all he could think about. He did not even reach halfway to them before he sank to his knees and held out his arms.
He was in tears when Edwina landed in them from a flying hug.
For Kalm, there was no choice to make, he loved his little girl.
Jerry slowly nodded as he sank on the stone steps, Master Wune stood on the step next to his shoulder.
“Very good speech,” they complimented, and Jerry snorted at him. “No, truly, you would make a fine Politician,”
“I chose my path,” Jerry grunted, unconsciously reaching for a cigarette he did not have. In truth, if Jerry had the chance and opportunity to lash out against the Republic of Acorn, he would have done it by now. He was somewhat disappointed he had to shut his Brother-in-Law down.
“Just glad there’s just one less on it.” Jerry lied, honestly uncaring. Jerry had said what needed to be said, did what needed to be done in order to resolve this without having to resort to piling bodies around him. The Fox would have much preferred to simply kill Kalm, and call it a day.
“He will have to be punished for his treachery to the village,” Wune spoke on, looking towards the Jackal. “Since he wishes to fight so badly, it will be a trial by Combat. I will give him some time to prepare,”
“If he wins?” Jerry asked, looking up to the Raccoon with furrowed brows.
“If he wins, he will be welcome to the Village, if he fails, exile,”
Jerry said nothing as he looked back to the crowd as enemies became Families again. It was a fair judgment. Kalm wanted to fight, now he would have a reason for it.
But Jerry’s mind quickly went to someone else.
The reunited families celebrated. It did not matter that they were enemies just a few hours before. Ill feelings were quickly buried as sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters hugged and laughed with one and other. While a feast was quickly being put together, the defeated were acting more like the victors, just happy to be with their family and friends again.
It was the Mobian way after all.
To Forgive and Forget.
Before they left the Fortress, they leveled the Factory and its remaining army by collapsing the roof of the stone cave it had been located. Dr. Hyde’s brother, Jekel, was nowhere to be found. There was a brief search before the fireworks, but it was obvious that the other Platypus disappeared during the night before.
Chase and Kalm had spent most of the ride back on the transport cuddling with one and other, speaking sweet nothings. They were passionately in love. Jerry did not know that he should be sick that she was kissing on a Jakuul or be bemused that she was twice his size and more than likely could carry her husband like a child.
Much to his added displeasure, Jerry was restricted to a stretcher. Aila was not at all pleased that a Fox who was supposed to be on light duties and exercise had nearly destroyed new muscle tissue by overexerting himself at every opportunity that presented itself.
They had strapped him down, which Parcus performing the task with much enthusiasm, and carried him to the transport, then into his own house with Edwina riding along. She had been strategically placed to keep Jerry quiet and to leave the ‘cute’ couple to become reacquainted.
However, soon, Jerry’s mind quickly switched gears when they settled him in a seat at the table in his kitchen. They were all here, the MAR Specialists, Parcus, Lukus, Chase, and Kalm. They looked to be readying to take a much-needed break.
“Control?” Jerry demanded, tapping his communications device.
Everyone who was speaking stopped to look to him. Margaret, MARS1, also placed her hand on her communicator, craning her head to listen. The gray Sparrow shook her head and gave her husband a sidelong glance.
Mags as she went, had taken over for her Husband as Field Leader of the MARS Program, and she was dressed and armed for combat. Even her artificial arm had a blade attached to it that could retract and extend at will. But of course, she arrived too little too late to be of any use.
Wade was checking Jeeb’s for heat damage, and he too looked between his wife and Jerry. MARS0 and One obviously knew something they did not and noting their glances, Jerry frowned at them.
“The Republic fell to the Iron Dominion,” Wade put through his communications. “We can’t get eyes inside the City, but all ingoing and outgoing communications between us and Mobotropolis have been severed.”
Jerry sank back in his chair and placed his face in his hands to hide the worry that crossed over it. Control was in Mobotropolis. Or at least, that was what they knew.
Control was there running a secret organization that was doing everything else other than making the area around her secure. Why would she? The Freedom Fighters were there, weren’t they?
Wade had sent the message to the MARS Members, and not to Parcus, Lukus or Chase, who were now looking around at the down heartened expressions.
“What?” Lukus asked Dunlap next to him. “What I miss?”
“The Iron Dominion’s inside the Shield,” Dunlap told him, and now eyes were on the only Legionnaire in the room.
Parcus expression remained neutral, and he held up his hands, “I think this is my cue to leave,”
“You are a guest in MY home and you’ll stay,” Jerry snapped sharply. Now they were looking to him again, but Jerry was fixated on Mags.
“What's the plan MARS1?” Jerry demanded.
“You? Rest and recuperate while we scout it out and figure out what the Plan is,” Mags replied quickly. She glanced at her Husband before addressed Jerry again, “Yes you can ‘breathe’ but we need you to walk and run,”
Jerry growled lightly and fell silent, obviously disappointed with that answer.
“Parcus is it?” Wade questioned as closed Jeebs’ access panel on his chest to turn towards them all. “And Chase? I would like to talk to you both,”
The Centurion was immediately wary, his bill pulled into a tight frown.
“Not what you are thinking Mr. Dunefeather,” Wade reassured, “I believe you have a deal with my associate, we are going to give you live communication with your Legion and arrange for you to be picked up nearby,”
Wade then looked squarely at Chase, who was reluctant to let go of her Husband. “How would you like to use your talents for battle in the MARS Program?”
“Oh fuck no!” Jerry objected quickly.
Chase turned, frowning at her older Brother,
“Don’t swear near Edwina,” Chase scolded. Jerry did not even look to her, instead, Jerry sulked, grumbling his discontent.
“Now, the offer will have to be discussed with my Husband,” the Vixen replied and hugged him tightly. “And I will give you my decision later,”
Kalm did not look too thrilled that he was not included, but Wade ignored them and motioned for Parcus to follow him outside to the transport.
“We will stop over and speak to Dr. Hyde was it?” Wade asked guided Parcus outside, “I find it rather fascinating that he can look over someone and get a full view of their insides, don’t you?”
Everyone who knew Wade shook their head slowly. Mags followed shortly after her husband, and the rest of the beings crowding into his house started to either explore or talk amongst themselves.
Jerry just sat there, his eyes shifting quickly between the two married couples in the room.
Verlos and Aila were still in the practice of holding hands. Jerry stared at her in particular for a moment, wondering about the comment about her having a cybernetic lung. Jerry then turned his attention to Chase and Kalm.
Despite stark differences, in mindset, in body size, Jerry just could not get his head around them being together. Yet here they were, just hours away from being foes, to being Husband and Wife again.
The Fox was Jealous.
Jerry shifted from his seat, shooing away Lukus and jabbing a threatening finger at Verlos who started to stand. The Fox said his good nights and quickly slipped into his room, fully intending on just going to sleep. After chasing out Dunlap, the Jerry locked his door, blew out the candles and crawled into his bed.
Even then, in the darkness, Jerry found himself placing a communications device in his ear that he had left under his pillow.
But sleep did not come.
The next morning his house was crowded again. The Gear had been stowed away inside the ever-familiar G.U.N. Transport.
Chase and Kalm had gone back to the Village with Edwina late that night.
This left the MARS who were at Jerry’s table eating his food, and Jerry sat at the opposite side of the head to Wade. Neither of them were eating. Wade could not and Jerry was genuinely disgusted that they were still here and not heading to the Republic of Acorn to help against the Iron Dominion.
He wanted to know if Control was alright.
When they were all done eating and started to chit-chat, Wade made an odd coughing noise to get their attention. It was odd only because it was coming from a machine looking Duck.
“I have an announcement,” Wade started, robotic eyes settling on the Fox on the far side of the table, “Parcus Dunefeather will be MARS6,”
Glances between everyone meant that they were not sure if that was a good idea.
“Talked to him out of going back to the Legion?” Verlos was the one to ask.
“No,” Parcus spoke up, coming into the house wearing nothing but his Legion robes. Everyone turned but Jerry. They were surprised.
Jerry simply did not care.
“I contacted my Chapter House, and to reward me for turning in cowards and traitors, they activated my explosive implants. Explosive implants I should never have received since I volunteered.” Parcus nearly spat, but his gaze settled on the back of Jerry’s head. “But I did not inform them of this Valley, as far as they are concerned, the Fortress has been abandoned, useless, and neither Hyde nor Jekel is located nearby.”
“And you are quite literally dead to them.” Wade noted wistfully, “Thankfully Hyde was able to get all of the explosives out, however, there is something that you should know before you take this tiring and thankless job, Jerry may he be seated?”
“He is a Guest in my House,” Jerry repeated from last night, “He does not need to ask or have anyone ask for him,”
The Fox pushed out an empty seat nearby with his cane but kept his tone, and expression neutral.
Parcus settled down, giving both Jerry and Verlos a sidelong glance before looking down to Wade.
“In the MARS Program, I have can offer you no glory nor medals,” Wade begun, making a gesture to everyone here.
“We gather intelligence and distribute where it would do the most good for Mobius as a whole. We fight the battles that need to be fought only because there is no one else to do so.”
“But no one will know of your valor, no one will know of your glory. We operate in secret, well, mostly in secret, in order to keep our friends and loved ones safe from the repercussions of this war, because the enemies are, as you well know, vindictive.”
Wade concluded with a curt nod down towards Jerry, “But make no mistake, Mr. Dunefeather, when we fight. When we ground our heels in. It is victory or nothing.”
Parcus half-turned to follow Wade’s nod towards Jerry, the male was burning a hole in the wall with those golden eyes of his.
“You do not retreat.” the purple Platypus pointed out from their own experience, “You fight to the death,”
“On the contrary,” Mags interjected, “We fight to survive, for as long as we’re alive, we’re causing problems, and as long as we’re causing problems, there is hope for victory, no matter the odds.”
“And we do not leave anyone behind,” Verlos said, Parcus now faced him, “No one gets left behind, not even their ashes. As long as a MARS breathes, you will go home.”
Wade would offer a smile if he could but simply added “So before you take on this role, you have a choice. Accept and be a part of this growing little family of soldiers, or go. Anywhere. You are free and we will not hinder you in any way.”
The Platypus slowly nodded.
Parcus would not have accepted before he arrived here in this Valley. Even then, before Hyde had ‘patched’ him up as it were, he would never have accepted fighting beside an Enemy of his Legion.
He had been Parcus Dunefeather, Proud Centurion of the Legion. He had volunteered for the Implants that doubled his strength when it was made available only because he sought glory and power, as many of them did. The male had been mindless in his devotion to its cause, and fearless in battle, even against those that he should have been calling his own.
But what had that earned him? Nothing. No glory was ever given him, there was no honor in the duties Parcus performed. Every battle he had been passed over, every engagement the ground garnered had been given to someone else.
Doing his Duties he had been ushered under the command of a complete idiot in some backwater station, only to be defeated by a single Mobian with nothing but ferocity.
Even after his comrades abandoned him, and Parcus pressed on to do his duty.
The first thing duty required that Parcus reported his abandonment by the Legionnaires he was to lead before reporting mission failure. The Chapter Master rewarded him by detonating explosives meant to be in his implants once they realized that he was still alive.
Not only had he been betrayed once, but three times by the Legion in which he nearly died fighting for.
Parcus watched the hidden explosives detonate in a pile before him and he was too shocked to think of anything else to say. Wade offered him a place in a tiny little organization and he jumped at it, thinking of cold vengeance against the Legion for this betrayal.
Now, the beings who were once his enemies were offering him a chance to back out of this commitment, letting Parcus know that he would earn nothing from this profession. No one would know his name. No one would sing his praises.
He would be MARS6, fighting the battles in the shadows of Titans and Heroes.
And there was a good chance Parcus would never be remembered.
“No Retreat,” Parcus spoke after some length. The Platypus tasted the words and leaned back in the chair. “That seems to be a decent motto,” Parcus concluded and stood up, placing his hands on the table, and hesitated once more.
“Not the starting pay I was hoping for though,” Parcus grunted, his humor catching most of them off guard. “But I’ll start by asking your forgiveness, and your name,” the Platypus reached over towards Verlos.
“Verlos Swiftwulf,” the Wolf said with a grin, clasping his hand and shaking it, “MARS3, there is nothing to forgive,”
“I was there when they tortured you,” Parcus confessed.
“And I shot you,” Jerry spoke up finally, “Let’s trade debts and call it even,”
There was an awkward silence then, and Parcus sat down once more. When they did, Jerry stood up, having to use his new cane to support his weight.
Jerry’s mind was fresh and sharp still, but his body was oh so very tired and sore. It would heal with time, but he had none to spare.
“What about Control?” Jerry demanded, pressing the issue that plagued him.
“We’re leaving here in a few hours on both means of transport. We need to get MARS6 caught up on what we have and on some previous missions, while MARS1 Two and Three head to the Republic of Acorn’s border and probe at its limits.” Wade explained, their metal head tilting as they were thinking. “See what we can do to assist them.”
Jerry shook his head as the metal duck spoke, the answer was not what he wanted to hear.
“To Hells with the Republic, let it burn so I can piss on its ashes,” Jerry growled darkly. The male was impatient, tired of this running around the issue. “What about Control? We can go in there and pull her out can’t we?”
“It’s not that simple. First thing is we do not even know if she is there.” Wade spoke, matching Jerry’s tone, having grown impatient with him as well. “And until you can fight without slipping into a coma or have to be carted out on a stretcher, your staying here, so there is no ‘we’ to it,”
Jerry’s entire body shook visibly. The very thing he had rant about to Kalm just yesterday threaten to consume him. He hated being helpless. He hated sitting back and watching things happen. He hated not being used as a weapon he had molded himself to be.
For that very moment, Jerry hated Wade for reminding him of his uselessness. Rage filled him to the brim, his fingers tightened around the cane until the wood of it creaked beneath the pressure.
Jerry wanted to scream, to shout, to rave.
He did not. What would be the point to start acting like a spoiled five-year-old child who was not getting his way?
Enraged, his eyes bore holes into Wade’s metal face before Jerry tore them away, able to see his own reflection staring back at him. Without warning or ceremony, he hobbled towards his room, slamming the door behind him.
“That went well,” Dunlap noted sarcastically, “Me was sure ye’d have ta knock’em out a’fore we left,”
Wade rose up from his chair, placing his hands behind his back.
“I think I’m pushing him to the limits of his restraint,” observed, though with far less sarcasm than Dunlap. “Either case, we need to get back to Command and figure out about hitting the Iron Dominion before he remembers its MARS1 who gives the orders outside the Base, and not me.”