Hoplite stared at Lance as he approached from the treeline, his brow furrowing at her state of dress. That would not be optimal for any sort of combat situation. What if fiends somehow breached the Bastion and attacked this strange funeral celebration? Lance couldn’t honestly be expecting to combat any potential threats in… that. Michael gave a low whistle at seeing her, cocking a brow and turning to whisper at Hoplite.

“She’s actually pretty cute isn’t she sir?” Michael whispered as the two Ternan’s continued to draw closer to Lance “I mean…” Michael continued “Technically those ears ain’t really cosmetics so… You know what, I’m gonna ask her if she wants to dance when we get to that party.”

Hoplite didn’t reply.

Lance stood awkwardly from her seated position on the short brick wall, the fountain behind her spewing its waters high in the air. That stream of liquid was easily twice Hoplite’s height, and he found himself wondering for some reason if the water was safe to drink. A silly thought, the filters installed in his digestive system would remove any potential impurities. Why had his thoughts drifted to the fountain?

He squinted beneath his helmet as a dim memory from his childhood replayed itself in his mind… Hoplite remembered a fountain similar to this… It had been a hot day, and his mother had been supervising Hoplite, telling him not to drink the crystal-clear water or else he would get sick. Strange, he hadn’t thought about his mother in well over two-hundred years. A woman long dead by now… He continued to strain to remember other details about that day, but it was a struggle. It had been centuries since he had played in that fountain. Hoplite then felt a pricking in his chest when he found that he couldn’t recall his mother’s face.

No matter how hard he strained… her face remained a blur. What was this dull pain he felt within? Had an organ healed incorrectly after his battle with Tuji? Surely that must have been it, but why did that pain fade whenever his thoughts drifted away from his mother? Thankfully his musings were derailed when Lance began speaking, Michael and Hoplite both coming to a slow halt within five paces of her.

“I’m glad you both decided you wanted to attend!” Lance said with a smile “There are a lot of elves that wish to meet the both of you before we all set off into the Fiendwood.”

Hoplite hadn’t wanted to attend in truth, this was all Michael’s idea. The young marine had told him that it would be simply optimal to attend the party until its conclusion, then Hoplite could simply run Lance back to the pod immediately afterward to retrieve their gear. Michael had insisted that attending this party would be the fastest way to leave the Bastion. Originally, Hoplite had wanted to leave immediately, but Lance would not budge in her intent to attend this funeral.

It had turned out that both he and Michael would need to stay for a day anyhow, as Michael was beginning to tire out and Hoplite had needed to restore his body mass. It had taken a lot of eating, but now Hoplite’s body was back to its optimal weight.

“Of course hun,” Michael said with a wink “Say, you said this was gonna be a party, right?”

Lance turned to Michael and nodded with a small smile “Indeed it will be, the goal is to celebrate Muro’s death. It is not the human way I understand, I hear you all just gather together to carry out the weeping together, but us elves tend to weep in private. After all the crying is done and over with, we party for the fallen’s ascent into the next life as hard as we can.”

Michael grinned again “Sounds uh… awesome?”

Lance grinned back and nodded her head “That is the idea, yes. I’m surprised you view it that way.”

“So do ya wanna-” Michael began.

“Where is the objective?” Hoplite said, cutting Michael off.

Michael frowned at Hoplite but remained silent.

Lance then pointed toward the Ilum tree “We return the fallen to the roots of the Ilum tree, if that is what they desire. Muro always wanted to feed the Ilum, he always said that his body wouldn’t do any good rotting in a box. Muro wanted it put to use, so that’s where the celebration will be.”

“Affirmative.” Hoplite said, moving to pick up Lance and get going.

He was surprised when she gave a small start and backed away, eyes going wide for a moment before she shook her head. What was the problem? Then Hoplite remembered. He had been at the border of what was known among the soldiery as ‘Going Wendigo’. Hoplite had been pushed to that point several times before regrettably… when his rapid regeneration opened a black hole in his gut that inflicted a savage form of temporary insanity.

Hoplite’s could eat anything as long as it was biological, due to the combination of mutations and bionics they received. A majority of the time when a Hoplite had to regenerate, the wounds received wouldn’t usually be enough to send them to that brink of madness. It actually took a lot of damage to put a Hoplite in that state… the kind of damage Hoplite had received from that ‘Pillar-Born’ creature. The Adium armor hadn’t budged beneath Tuji’s blows of course, but the intense shock had still traveled through the metal. Blood vessels had popped and organs had been torn asunder, his natural regeneration and the fleet of nanomachines within him being the only things holding him together.

It was a good thing that Hoplite’s bones were nigh unbreakable, the fight may have ended with Tuji killing Hoplite had they not been coated in Adium. A recent installation that… had to have been about twenty years since Hoplite had been subjected to the burning agony of metal fusing to bone. His Adium bones and rapid healing had likely saved Hoplite in that battle… Yet it had left him dangerously close to going Wendigo.

Thankfully, Hoplite had not succumbed to the deep pit of hunger within… but he had been close, way too close. Once a Hoplite did go Wendigo… Flesh was the only thing that could satiate the endless dark abyss that would open in their stomachs. Flesh was the first thing that a Hoplite would go after once they fell off the cliff of madness.

Flesh from any source.

Hoplite straightened his back, and slowly took a step backward. After that, Lance took a deep breath to steady herself, straightening her skirts and drawing her lips to a fine line. Michael scratched his beard then, taking a keen interest in his boots.

“I’m sorry but…” Lance began after a long pause “I would like to walk today. It's just… well, it just wouldn’t be proper for me to be seen carried like that, especially in a dress like this.”

Hoplite doubted that was the real reason, or at least that it wasn’t the main one. Then again… elves, like humans, seemed to be uncomfortable around any kind of nudity. Maybe it would have been embarrassing for her if everyone at this party saw her undergarments. Still, the fact that Lance had seen him at the border of going Wendigo had to be a factor.

“...Affirmative.” Hoplite said “We’ll all run to the site then-”

Lance shook her head with a frustrated sigh “I’m not going to show up to this party dripping with sweat! There’s nothing wrong with simply strolling our way there, the party doesn’t begin until noon anyhow, if we leave at a comfortable pace now, we’ll arrive there at the intended time.”

“We need to reach the Fiendwood as soon as possible, contact the elves that will be attending the party and tell them to start earlier-” Hoplite began firmly before Lance cut him off.

“You do not give me orders!” Lance spat, her tone laced with a barely contained heat “I will go about today my way Hoplite, do not tell me what to do!”

With that, she turned away from them both, and began walking in the direction of the looming Ilum tree. Hoplite stared after her for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. This strange feeling of frustration bubbled up within him, yet instead of demanding that Lance follow his command, he kept silent. Hoplite had a strange feeling that if he pressed the matter it would only aggravate Lance further. Michael sucked in air sharply through his teeth and looked up at Hoplite with a wince, as if he had just been severely injured.

“Look sir, today’s a real important one for her…” Michael whispered, cupping a hand around his mouth “Sir, I request temporary command for this mission.”

Hoplite cocked his helmet toward Michael, brows knit in confusion. Michael wanted to take temporary command? Ridiculous, it would not happen. There was no reason for Michael to assume command in this situation.

“Permission denied private.” Hoplite said sternly as he began to follow after Lance.

Michael sighed and followed after him, maintaining a steady pace next to Hoplite. Lance seemed to be going out of her way to stay just ahead of them, quickening her pace whenever they began gaining on her. Hoplite considered just scooping her and Michael up and running to the Ilum tree, he would simply deal with the social ramifications of his actions later. Yet if he did that, Lance may very well change her mind about accompanying them into the Fiendwood. It would be preferable to have her along for the journey, she had better intel on the Fiendwood and its dangers better than Hoplite did. His thoughts then drifted to the group of misfits that were planning on accompanying Hoplite beyond the Fiendwall. Lance had told him that the mutants had said they were going to head into the Fiendwood as well… if that was the case, then did he really need Lance?

They were just as likely to know of the Fiendwood’s dangers as Lance herself was, after all, Lance had never ventured into the Fiendwood herself. She only heard of what lay beyond, just like the party of mutants… Hoplite could just leave her behind and head back to the Fiendwall with Michael right this instant… Yet when he considered the thought he felt… strange.

Hoplite couldn’t quite place the feeling. A heaviness in his gut that scrunched up his face with borderline disgust. It took him a while, but Hoplite eventually figured out why he wasn’t keen on leaving Lance behind. She wasn’t a Ternan, or even a human, yet she had fought alongside him ever since he landed planetside. Hoplite had grown familiar with her, and the thought of leaving her here in the Bastion felt almost like a betrayal.

It bothered him to no end. Once usefulness was fulfilled, a tool should be put back where it belonged. This thought ended up bothering Hoplite as well, to think of Lance as a mere tool as he had with so many other people in his life. He had only known her for a matter of days, so why did Hoplite feel this way?

He stopped wasting his time on this useless train of thought. It would simply be beneficial to the mission to have Lance along, nothing more.

“Permission to speak sir?” Michael whispered again.

“Granted.” Hoplite replied.

“Look, I’m requesting temporary command cause this is…” Michael paused “It’s a… let’s see… Ah! It’s a ‘social’ mission sir.” Michael said with a snap of his fingers at the word ‘social’ “I’m experienced in uh… social missions, while you’re um, not. No offense.”

Hoplite cocked his helmet in Michael’s direction again.

“You want to supervise me at the funeral?” Hoplite asked, his tone inching away from a monotone and beginning to border on incredulous.

Michael nodded however, those blue eyes staring with deadly seriousness “Yes. Sir, with all due respect, which keep in mind, is a lot… You got the personality of paint dryin’ and you’re rude as all hell. You’ll cause problems at the party I think.”

Hoplite blinked in confusion. Rude? Hoplite wasn’t ‘rude’, he was focused on what needed to be done. If Hoplite’s way of speaking offended people, that wasn’t his problem. Wasn’t Michael far more prone to being ‘rude’ anyhow? If he assumed command, what was to say that he wouldn’t cause problems at the gathering? There was a solid chance that Michael would be talked down to again by elves that shared Terlin’s disposition. If Michael would react the same way as he had to Terlin yesterday, then it would not end well. Michael was simply too young and hot-headed for any kind of command role, especially over a Hoplite.

"All I'm sayin' is that a young fella like me got a lotta experience partying up." Michael continued "If ya won't give me temporary command sir, could I at least help ya not be… again no offense, a sack of rude bricks?”

Not temporary command… but an advisory role for this ‘social mission’? Michael claimed to be experienced in the field of ‘partying’, but would his advice be sound? This was not a Ternan marine party, this was a party with foreign lifeforms, what if their social norms for celebrations were starkly different than what Michael was accustomed to? Then again, elves seemed very similar to humans in mannerism, perhaps their rules for partying weren’t all that dissimilar to humanity’s. Even if it was different, however… could Hoplite really claim that he would operate at a social gathering better than Michael could? Hoplite knew that marines had a reputation when it came to their little celebrations; could Michael really aid Hoplite in this endeavor? After a few seconds of pondering, Hoplite gave the young marine his answer.

"...Granted." Hoplite said after a small pause "But this is just an advisory role, not temporary command."

Michael then pumped a fist in the air and gave a loud cheer, causing Lance to start before she whirled to face them. She stared at Michael and Hoplite a moment before sighing and shaking her head.

"Please save that for the celebration Michael," Lance said with a small groan "You're going to need to conserve as much energy as you can for today, this party will be beyond normal human capabilities.”

Michael smirked as if that had been a challenge “You don’t seem to get it hot stuff… I’m a marine. Everyone at this gig is gonna be tryin’ to keep up with me.”

Lance stared with her brow furrowed as the two men closed the distance “Hot stuff?” She asked.

Michael grinned “That’s right ya are, when we get there you wanna dance?” Michael asked, lifting his brow “I can step pretty dang good when I wanna.”

Lance giggled and nodded “Sure… But just know that it won’t go further than that. I wouldn’t want to… rob the cradle, per say.”

Michael scratched his beard as the three of them began to move, Hoplite and Michael now to each side of her. She didn’t seem to be upset anymore… Maybe Hoplite could begin to talk sense to Lance about this gathering? Convince her to get the attendees to arrive sooner? Yes, Hoplite could try to be diplomatic with Lance. Reducing the length of the party to a block of five minutes seemed sensible, surely Lance would see it that way… right? Hoplite opened his mouth to speak, but Michael spoke first.

“Rob the cradle? Naw come on, I ain’t no baby, I’m nineteen, how old are you?” Michael asked quizzically “I mean, the age gap can’t be that large-”

Lance shook her head with a laugh “Two-hundred and thirty-seven, I guess a difference of two-hundred and eighteen years isn’t that large hm?”

Michael blinked in shock for a moment before that grin settled back on his face “Age is just a number baby, I’m legal.” He finished with a snap of his fingers.

“You are a baby.” Lance told him flatly “I’m flattered, but I’m not interested Michael, sorry.”

Michael just grinned wider “That’s alright, I’m sure there’ll be some elf girls that’ll wanna dance.”

Hoplite opened his mouth to interject and begin negotiations, but Lance continued on right after Michael, stalling Hoplite’s efforts.

“There are certainly those among us who I know would express interest in little baby people like you, so please, get your hopes up.” She said with a bemused smirk.

Hoplite opened his mouth again-

Michael’s jaw dropped in shock “Baby person? I ain’t no baby person!”

Hoplite had to begin now-

Lance shrugged, stepping over an exposed branch as the three of them passed into the treeline “Shave that beard and I’m certain I would see the baby fat in those cheeks.”

“That’s funny, you lift up that skirt and I’m sure I’d see plenty more fat on those cheeks.” Michael replied, grinning as his eyes found Lance’s skirt.

“That was inappropriate!” Lance replied quickly, trying to pull her skirt down lower as her face began to redden “As expected from someone as young as yourself, it’s amazing they let you out of the nursery so early, did you glue that atrocious beard on to convince your caretakers that you were an adult?”

Michael’s hand went to his beard, hand lightly stroking it as he frowned “This is all natural hun.”

“You are an all natural baby.” Lance replied flatly “That’s why you were stuck in the nursery.”

“Yeah well your face is an all-natural baby.” Michael retorted just as flatly.

Hot frustration bubbled up within Hoplite as each attempt he made to begin speaking was thwarted. Hoplite had had enough of this, time to override this foolishness and begin negotiations. Right as he was about to cut Lance’s response to Michael off however, Hoplite shut his mouth. Hoplite’s instincts were warning him against both cutting her off and against trying to negotiate terms for the party. It was a sort of danger instinct, yet somehow Hoplite didn’t feel that his life was at risk. When he put thought into why that was, he found himself picturing what Lance would say… and none of it was good. Hoplite then decided that maybe it would be best to… strategically withdraw from the idea of convincing Lance to shorten the length of the party.

Several minutes passed of Lance and Michael arguing with one another as all three continued their walk. Hoplite remained completely silent as he listened to their words, feeling perplexed by the way they were interacting. They were certainly arguing, but they didn’t seem as if they were angry at one another… There was too much sarcasm thrown in for any of those biting remarks to be truly offensive, right? Hoplite would need to study this further for the party ahead, there might be something he could learn from listening to Lance and Michael banter. Instead of continuing their argument, however, Lance turned to look up at Hoplite, drawing her lips to a fine line again before speaking.

“I apologize for my rudeness earlier.” Lance said simply “It was childish of me to just storm off like that, but you must understand that today is going to be very significant to me.” She explained “I will not miss the party, nor will I arrive being manhandled. I ask that you please be patient with the festivities.”

Hoplite paused a moment before replying “Affirmative.”

Lance smiled, her cheek dimpling before she turned back ahead “Thank you, Hoplite.”

It was true that for every second spent wasting time here was another second where his comrades fought without his aid. Yet… it had already been days since he had crashed here on this planet, and the Eighth Arm had been fighting long before Hoplite had finally made it planetside. The survivors from the Sparrow were some of Terna’s greatest soldiers, surely they would have made it to relative safety in that time? They were all highly trained and had landed on this planet armed with some of the best equipment Terna had to offer, surely that would be enough to keep them alive until Hoplite arrived...

Had Hoplite believed that his fellow soldiers would be helpless without him? No, certainly not, mankind was tenacious and brutally efficient on the battlefield… It was just that Hoplite deeply desired to protect them. Whenever Hoplite was awoken from cryosleep, it had always been his priority to save lives. Slaughtering Final Kind had always been secondary to preserving humanity, at least in Hoplite’s eyes. Every human life mattered, and he would try his hardest to protect those lives.

Hoplite would go out of his way to block plasma shots for soldiers that would have melted them down to goo. He would serve as moving cover for marines, ground support for divers, and rear guard for exo-troops whenever their flanks became undefended. He would carry wounded to relative safety before hopping right back into combat, prioritizing the aliens shooting at humans over the ones firing at Hoplite himself.

To Hoplite, saving lives has always taken priority…

Why did he only realize that now? Hoplite supposed that he had just never thought about it before… when he was in combat, his thoughts had only been on the fight. Now that he had all this time to think outside of cryo… Things like that were beginning to come to his attention more often. This wasn’t a good thing by any stretch…

The traitor, Hoplite twenty-five, had been out of cryo for a long while too before he had turned his back to the Eighth Arm…

This had been while twenty-five was trapped on a rebel world, surrounded by nothing but traitors and their lies. At some point during that time, twenty-five had grown to despise Terna, and had begun to sympathize with the rebels. Would Hoplite turn on Terna as well if he kept having these overly long trains of thought? No, of course not. His loyalty to Lorn Jyn was stronger than anything, stronger even than Adium.

Rebellious thoughts would not invade his mind… not again. Twenty-five was a traitor and the lowliest of scum… Hoplite found himself gritting his teeth as he thought back to that mission, the one that directly led to Hoplite’s re-indoctrination.

Thirty-seven and a strike team of special operatives had been sent to retrieve twenty-five from the traitor planet… but the strike team had been wiped out, and Hoplite had been stranded planetside, much like twenty-five had been. At the time, Hoplite hadn’t known that twenty-five had turned against Terna, only that his comrade was trapped and needed help. When Hoplite had finally found twenty-five however…

That was when the traitor had begun planting strange ideas in Hoplite’s head. Ideas that had needed to be cleaned out after Hoplite was saved from the clutches of twenty-five and his rebels.

Hoplite would not need to be re-indoctrinated again, everything that twenty-five had told him had been a lie meant to sway thirty-seven to the rebel’s cause. Twenty-five had come dangerously close to succeeding but… but the re-indoctrination had helped Hoplite see that twenty-five himself was the one who had been tricked by the rebels… it was just unfortunate that twenty-five had never been captured for re-indoctrination himself.

Hours passed, and Michael and Lance continued to argue casually as Hoplite became lost in his thoughts. It was unfortunate that he took so much time to think… for Hoplite kept recalling what twenty-five had told him. Something absolutely impossible to imagine, a work of fiction the rebels had drummed up to rally disloyal humans to their cause. A dangerous fallacy that claimed something wretched of the Lord and Master of the Ternan empire… Something that was censored from any source of media to prevent the possibility of a mass rebellion.

It claimed that… that Lord Jyn wasn’t human.