“Tell me about him.” General Franklin said. “What made you so certain that he was still down there when Operation Red Savior called in the intelligence that the 3-95th had been destroyed?”

“Captain Benson spoke on that already, ma’am.”

“Captain Benson cited regulation and technicality.” Franklin said. “You, as the bridge commander of the Vindicator, had much of the final say in the vessel’s operation, did you not?”

“I did.”

“Under typical circumstances your relation to someone so involved in the situation at hand would have been temporarily removed from command, in a non disciplinary manner, or another ship from Detachment Echo would have provided extraction support.”

“I am aware of the protocol.”

“My question stands.”

Martin thought for a moment, eyes flicking to Neerson. The Admiral’s face was… unpleasant. Angry, but set. “I’ve no doubt you’ve looked over my brother’s military records and found it average at best.” Martin said. “It’s not from lack of trying, but mostly due to his stubborn and obstinate need to do the right thing, even if it doesn’t line up with protocol.”

“Including orders.”

“Yes.” Martin smiled. “Including orders, if it comes down to it.”

“So it was his disregard for military protocol that made you so certain?”

“After a fashion. You’ve seen his first denial to the NCO academy.”

“Most enlisted personnel are not afforded with a second chance. He’s most fortunate that someone intervened on his behalf.” Franklin said.

“All who experience such circumstances are, ma’am, but it wasn’t a simple declination of admittance. One of his soldiers was in recovery, and he was being pushed to leave them.”

“Leave them in the company of the finest military and civilian medical staff, yes.” Franklin said. “I think I see the point, but please continue.”

“It was his military career.” Martin shrugged. “If you decline admittance, that’s it usually, like you say. The pipeline for Specialist is competitive, and needs to be initiated early on, but that never would have suited him. If he was going to put his time in uniform out there for a soldier that was in a safe space, I knew that as long as there was someone who needed him, he’d keep fighting.”

“And you had conclusive proof that your brother was alive at this point?”

“I had as much proof as anyone else that he had survived the initial assault on the Second Feilding. After that, no.”

“Then,” Franklin said, sitting back in a weary sort of posture. “There are more questions that will need to be answered about your own command, Commander.”

“Ma’am, if I might add clarification.”

“You may.”

“You asked me about my brother, though I don’t truly see the relevance. If the question is wether or not I would have done things differently if I had known that he was blown to spare parts or a bloodless corpse on Mars, the answer is no.”

“No?” Franklin raised her eyebrows. “The fact that you things your brother was alive had no bearing on how you conducted the operation?”

“I conducted the operation within the parameters of my orders.” Martin snapped, squaring his shoulders. “And if you’re ever fortunate enough to speak with him, ma’am, ask him to correlate his obsession with his own moral compass to my own obsession, and you’ll know the answer you’re trying to push me to. Because during the Crime Circle Crisis I was ordered to pull back.” Martin’s hands were trembling now. “I was ordered to report to the coordinates ordered, and I did. And five hundred of my naval service members died for it.”

“Your service record in the Crisis is well known.” Franklin said.

“Not well enough, it would seem.”

“Commander.” She snapped. “That will be all for now, you’re dismissed.”

Martin couldn’t leave the chair fast enough, turning his back and marching back to his seat. Nodding, Neerson put aside a tablet and folded his hands while Franklin deliberated. “Well done.”

“That bitch wants the ALP so bad.”

“And she will continue roundabout tactics to get there until she is forced to bring it home herself.” Neerson said. “Or unless someone forces her hand.”

“Will someone?”

“Fleet Admiral Neerson.” Franklin called. “The board respectfully requests you to take the stand to be heard.”

“Let us find out.” He said. Then he stood and walked deliberately down to the stand. He never broke the cadence of his step or looked around, but all eyes were on him. And none were on Captain Benson.

As Neerson took his seat, Franklin nodded once. “Thank you, Fleet Admiral.”

“Let us be on with it.” Neerson said. “Ask your questions, general.”

“The first is this: why did you not remove Commander Ziggenbor from the position of bridge commander when his relationship to Sergeant First Class Ziggenbor was established.”

“Because I believed he would disregard the Acceptable Loss Protocol and execute his mission to the highest level of standard if he believed there was a chance he could save his brother.”

—

“I mean no disrespect, Senator, but don’t you have… senator things to be doing?” Valentine asked, wincing as he lowered himself back into his wheelchair.

“Always.” Matt said, sighing.

“Then what’s the rub? This is the third time you’ve come down to see me, instead of your brother.”

“He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Do you think I do?”

Matt rubbed his chin. “I think you haven’t told me to get fucked yet. And you’re the one who pulled my brother off that rock.”

Valentine shrugged. “I had a job to do.”

“A common phrase among soldiers, but I know that the mission was volunteer only. You and your squad were willing to do what no one else was.”

“Yes to the first, but no to the second. There were a bunch of squads that wanted to go, we got selected.”

“Oh?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “How was the decision made?”

“We weren’t the most senior squad, but we weren’t the most junior, either.” Valentine said. “Everyone in TFB could have done an extraction, most everyone has. We were essentially the next up for a mission, so out of the volunteers, we got it.”

“Do you regret it?”

Valentine’s eyes came up and around. “I’d have thought you’d have a little more care with questions like that. Seeing as how you’ve got two brothers who won’t like being asked something like that either.”

Matt nodded. “I apologize.”

“I regret that my squad died.” Valentine said, wincing as he rubbed his legs. “I regret… I regret we didn’t get more, but no. I wasn’t lying when I talked to Apprentice Sanderson.”

“Are you alright, Sergeant?”

“I don’t know.” He said. “They told me that it would take a while to get used to the new legs, but they just feel wrong.”

“Should I call nurse Rayne?”

“Call me what?” Said the nurse, materializing into the room. “Is he whining again?”

“His legs are hurting—“

“I can talk for myself, thanks.” Valentine growled. “My legs are hurting.”

Nurse Rayne frowned. “The soreness should be well down at this point, even with us moving you to more reasonable levels of pain suppressants.”

“Yeah, maybe we should up those again.” He said.

But Rayne shook her head. “We bring them down for a reason. This type of pain just shouldn’t be happening now.”

“So is this the part when you tell me to stop being such a bitch and get through it then?”

“No.” She said at once, and left the room.

Matt watched her go, and he and Valentine looked at each other. “Did they give you any warnings about this happening?”

Valentine shook his head. “They told me the pain would be down within forty-eight hours and to tell them if it wasn’t.”

The door opened and Rayne reinterred, followed by three other medical staff. “Sergeant, we're going to have to take you into observation.”

“What’s happening?” Valentine asked as they began wheeling him out. “Nurse?” He looked around to Rayne, his eyes wide.

She put a hand on his shoulder as he passed. “I’ll be there. Just go.”

When Valentine had been swept from the room, Matt looked around. “Can you tell me what just happened?”

“He’s rejecting the prosthetics.” Rayne said matter of factly. “Likely, at least, I’ve never seen a situation where a patient is this far into the recovery and still feeling and had it not be a rejection.”

“What will that mean for him?”

“Reverse operation.” Rayne’s words were sad. “I’ve seen it twice before.”

“They’re… going to take his legs again?”

“And the plating that they repaired his arm with. It will be long and painful. But there’s little else for it than that. Before you ask, if they don’t operate, he’ll be dead in a month, give or take a week or so.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know, Senator. The more we map the human body, find ways to fix it, the mysteries that remain elude us even further. She looked at him. “You’ve done the reading.”

Matt looked up, meeting her gaze for a long moment and weighing the situation.. “Indeed I have. As you well know.”

Rayne nodded. “You still haven’t seen him yet?”

“No. He doesn’t want--” Matt was caught by the sudden emotion in his throat that he had been forcing down. He looked away from Rayne’s eye, but she put her hand on his shoulder and moved to stand in front of him. “Matthias,” She said in all the maternal sense and gentleness that Matt had never known growing up. “Look at me.”

He did, and somehow kept his shining eye to only that. Rayne’s eyes were full compassion, less like the brusque nurse that he had seen over the last days and more like a friend. More like his friend. “He will come around, like he always does. There’s reasons why you don't understand him.”

“I do understand him.”

“Do not lie to me, young man, I am one of the few in the Cluster that sees through your very particular brand of bullshit.” She snapped. “It is not appreciated.”

“Look, nurse, I know he’ll come around. He’s a fire, destructive until he’s useful. Once he cools down, I’ll be able to get close.”

“You see your brother where you should be seeing a broken man who has no paradigm on how to deal with what he is going through. You and he have always been the haft and tip of the spear. Neither could be more different from the other, both worthless without each other.”

“A spear without a head is often referred to as a staff, Nurse, and it has proven useful to a great many throughout the years.”

She looked at him for a moment, and raised her hand to slap him very, very lightly on the cheek. “Do not be difficult.” She said. “You are always difficult when Neil is in danger. You are trying to compensate for a piece of you three that is currently out of the fight, and there could not be a worse one to take up his mantle. Stop it. Once he cools, as you say, he will need you.”

“Need me?” Matt snorted. “Why?”

“You are thinking of yourself as one of the most well informed men in the entirety of the human race, and not as his brother.” She said gently.

Matt sighed and nodded. “How is it that I have all the information but you always seem to have all the answers?”

“Obviously,” Rayne said, becoming once again the nurse he had seen around the EMAR since his boarding. “I am smarter than you. But I need to go, and make sure that he’s being handled properly. If you need anything, Captain Henderson is still at your disposal.” And then she was gone too, leaving Matt alone and pondering the words that Nurse Rayne had told him. There was much more there than what had been said.

But there always was.

A moment later, his comlink pinged.