“So. What’s the diagnosis?”

Bria Marshall, one-time military psychologist for the Vast Empire Army, glanced up from where she was seated in her plush chair behind her desk at the intrusion of the familiar voice. A faint smile lifted at the corners of her lips in greeting as she gestured to the less decorative chair adorning the other side of her desk, “Perhaps you should have a seat Lieutenant.”

“No time I’m afraid,” Havock took a tentative step inside the doorway and looked pointedly at the clipboard in Bria’s hand, “Just tell me. Yes or no.”

Bria sighed and leaned back in her chair, removing her glasses with one hand and shifting her grip on a VE stamped clipboard with the other, “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as a ‘yes or no’ with this particular trooper. I’m no expert of Cathar physiology or sociology so my professional opinion on this matter is just that. An opinion.”

Havock grimaced and walked further into the room, “I understand Bria. But I respect your opinion even if you don’t feel qualified to give it. I just need to know whether or not she’s going to fly off the handle again.”

“Well that’s something I can’t tell you, but her track record speaks for itself,” Bria answered smoothly, her blue gaze centering on the Wildcard Platoon Commander, “She has issues with authority that are deep rooted in her psyche and will in all likelihood never be resolved.  If she disagrees with you on any particular matter you will have to fight with her to change her mind.  For someone as… heavily burdened… as yourself she is perhaps the worst candidate for the role in which you are considering her.”

“Hey now,” Havock raised both hands in a defensive gesture, “This is not about me.”

“For now,” Bria smiled in a disarming manner, “Though you might be back here in a few weeks if you push forward with this.”

Havock lowered her face to her hands momentarily, rubbing at tired eyes before responding, “Just tell me how to control her.”

“Well. That’s relatively simple.” Bria slid the clipboard over the desk towards Havock,  “Challenge her. Push her until she reaches breaking point and then push her some more. Self perfectionists need that constant drive or they deflate in on themselves.  You need to find a way to harness her destructive energy or she’ll turn on you, and herself, and make your life a living hell.”

Havock held Bria’s gaze for a second, and then took the proffered clipboard, “Alright. Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh, and Lieutenant?”

Havock hesitated as she made to leave the office, momentarily turning back around, “Yes?”

Bri steepled her fingers and leaned forwards, curiosity lighting up her features, “Do you mind if I ask what it is exactly that you intend to do with our Cathar friend?”

“The last thing she expects.” Havock answered, “She has an issue taking orders. So I’m going to place her in a position with minimal guidelines. I’m going to give her a squad.”

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

Mai stared at the clock hanging on the wall opposite the chair on which she was seated, her unblinking golden eyes following the path of the second hand as it whirled about for yet another rotation. She had been sitting in the interview room for over twenty minutes and her patience was beginning to wear thin. It was not the first time she had been placed in this room with the vague order to wait, in fact, since her relegation to the ranks of the normal VE Army Corps she had been dressed down by numerous drill sergeants and threatened with everything from fines to dishonorable discharge on several occasions. Her calm, unapologetic replies in answer to their queries regarding her consistent ‘misbehavior’ had gone unheard on each time, and she expected no less when the door finally opened and her latest inquisitor entered.

Inwardly she was a frustrated mess. She had joined the Vast Empire in order to fight alongside some of the most elite soldiers the galaxy had to offer and had found herself entangled in a web of military jargon and protocol instead.  For an individual unused to the subtle nuances of humans, Mai was completely out of her depth when it came to dealing with her squad mates and superiors. All she had ever known in life was the thrill of the hunt and the constant everyday battle to survive.  The intrusive and confusing nature of structured military life was not something that she ever believed that she could really become familiar with.  After all, what was so complicated about the ecstasy of the final kill? The pure joy one felt when partaking in the blood of their prey?

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Mai’s ears flicked forwards in surprise at the interruption of her train of thought by a familiar voice. Havock, Platoon Commander of Wildcard and reinstated leader of the Raiders, dropped down into the chair opposite her with little aplomb. She regarded Mai as the Cathar struggled to make sense of the appearance of her old squad leader.  The duo had not parted on the best of terms…indeed a relatively straight forward disagreement regarding tactics whilst on a squad mission had eventually led to Havock signing off on transfer papers to remove Mai from the ranks of the elite.

“First of all.” Havock propped both elbows up on the table before her, “I wanted to apologize for how your situation was handled. I was under a lot of pressure, in fact, Captain Katash’s presence on the last mission was an intentional placement by High Command to ensure that I was coping with the responsibilities of a squad. When you began to question my orders it reflected poorly on my capabilities as a leader.”

“Then your system is flawed.” Mai answered her uneasily, her yellow gaze flicking from Havock to the doorway as thought anticipating the entry of another. When no-one was forthcoming she turned her attention back to Havock and forced her suspicions to subside momentarily, “If the chain of command cannot be questioned then weak, inadequate leaders have the capacity to rise to positions of power.”

Havock sighed audibly, “That’s why we have revisional committees in place Corporal.”

“Revision is all well and good,” Mai countered calmly, “When the dust has settled and innocent blood has already been spilled as the result of weakness.”

“Look, Mai,” Havock’s brow creased at the suggestion of further argument, “I think we can both agree that we have very different ideas about the Vast Empire, and what it means for an individual to serve. I know you’ve been condemned for your approach and labeled as a ‘dissenter’ but I know you and I know what you’re capable of.  I honestly do not believe that you act the way you do in a deliberate attempt to cause strife.”

“I am not a politician,” Mai told her, her gaze narrowing, “I am a soldier. I still fail to see why being so is such a difficult process.”

“You’re more than that Mai.” Havock seemed to collect herself momentarily, “You’re a natural leader. When you speak, others listen. And you’re clever. More clever than you let on. You play at ignorance and let everyone underestimate you when in reality you’re miles ahead of those who denounce you.”

“Why are you here Lieutenant?” Mai tilted her head to one side as she searched the woman’s gaze, “What do you want from me?”

“Before I tell you that, I need to ask you something.” Havock’s frown deepened, “Are you loyal to the Vast Empire?”

Mai’s first reaction was anger, an emotion she let briefly show on her face as she bared her fangs across the table. The lack of response from Havock, physical or otherwise, caused her to reconsider her initial urge to remain silent.  Instead she deigned to answer, “Of course. I am, after all, still here.”

“Yes.” The curious play of the muscles beneath Havock’s face shifted at her response, “Yes you are.” Without waiting for Mai to respond Havock removed a datapad from the upper pocket of her jacket and slid the device across the table.

“What is this?” Mai examined the grimacing skull emblem that flashed up at her from the datapad’s screen, “Another transfer?”

“In a sense,” Havock smiled at her in the strange way that human’s preferred, pulling back her lips to expose both rows of her teeth in a gesture that most of the Cathar people would have usually interpreted as a challenge, “Wraith Squad are in need of a makeover. And I think you’re just what they need to shake things up a bit.”