"Yeah. I'll be glad when this is all over. I feel like our lives are being lived for us, like we're not in control. I want to live my life my way."
"I feel a bit the same. Sort of trapped."
"So are we here," Michael said, shooting Anna his most winning smile, "for you know?"
"Bugger off, Michael" Anna said with an indignant frown. "No, we are not. We're here because I've get something to tell you. Well, two things."
"You're not ditching me again, are you?"
"Stupid boy! No."
"So what?"
Michael heart sank when he saw Anna take in a deep breath, her hands clenching into tight fists. He knew the signs.
"I'm joining the NRA's 120th Regiment," she said. "Lieutenant Kallewi and his marines are doing the same thing, so rather than sit around wasting my time doing shitty little jobs for FLTDETCOMM, I've joined the NRA."
Michael stared at her. "You what?" he spluttered. "Joined up? Are you mad? Anna, please!"
"Don't you Anna me, you bastard," she hissed. "We can't sit around while the NRA does all the fighting. You want this war over? Well, that means we all have to fight, so that's what I'm doing. You'll be flying Widowmaker; I'll be shooting Hammers. No"-her hand went up, and Michael's protest died stillborn-"I've made my decision, Adrissa's okayed the transfer, so that's that."
"Don't you think you should have talked to me first?" Michael asked a touch plaintively. If he had learned anything about Anna, it was the utter futility of trying to change her mind when she decided to do what she believed was right.
"Talk to you first? Why?" she said, shaking her head, baffled. "For chrissakes, Michael, why would I do that? All you'd have done is try to talk me out of it, I'd have insisted, we'd have had a massive fight, back and forth until you gave up and saw things my way. Trust me, this is much easier."
Michael grunted, disappointed and scared at the same time.
"Michael," Anna said softly, "I have to do what's right. If I've learned anything from you, it's that. So get over it. I'm joining the 120th, okay?"
"Okay," Michael said woodenly, a mass of despair.
"Good," Anna said, mouth opening wide into a cheerful grin, "but there's one more thing."
Michael rolled his eyes in despair. "I can't take much more of this, Anna. What? A one-woman suicide mission to assassinate Chief Councillor Polk? What?"
"Now you're being stupid," Anna said. "No, remember when we snatched some leave and went to Neu Kelheim? Just before we were deployed to Salvation?"
Michael nodded. He would never forget; it was the last time he and Anna had been truly happy together. "Yup," he said.
"You asked me to marry you."
"Yes," Michael said glumly. "I remember. You said wait until the war's over, as you do every time."
"Well, I've changed my mind. I want-"
"Whoa!" Michael said, sitting bolt upright. "Hold on one second. What are you saying?"
"Yes, you dimwit. I am saying yes. A bit late, but yes. Yes!"
Michael shook his head in confusion; Anna's effortless ability to change the subject was breathtaking. "Yes?" he said. "You mean, yes, let's get married?"
"Yes, Michael. Yes, let's get married. Screw this damn war; the way things are going, it could go on forever. If we wait, we'll be too damn old."
"Oh."
"That's it? That's all you can say? Oh?" Anna punched his arm hard.
"Ow! Sorry. Yes, yes, okay," Michael said; he crushed his face into her neck. "Let's get married, but when?" he mumbled.
"Tomorrow."
Michael pushed her away. "Tomorrow? Shit, Anna! When you change your mind, you change your mind."
"Time's not on our side, Michael," she said, all of a sudden grim-faced, "so let's not waste the time we have."
"Deal," Michael said, and folded her into his arms.
Anna and Michael stayed that way for a long time, a tiny island of sanity and hope set in an ocean of barbaric madness. Sunday, October 14, 2401, UD Sector Juliet, Branxton Base, Commitment
"Well, Mr. Michael Helfort."
"Yes, Mrs. Anna Cheung Helfort?"
"I think I have to go. Lieutenant Kallewi's looking grumpy."
Michael's stomach had solidified into a sullen ball of lead. "Go, and for chrissakes, be careful," he said. "I want you back in one piece."
"Screw you, Michael Helfort," Anna said. She settled her helmet on her head with a firm tap and picked up her pack and rifle. "Who the hell are you to talk?"
"Anna!"
"I'll be careful, promise. Love you."
With a fleeting peck on the cheek, Anna turned and fell in, her slight figure incongruous amid the bulky shapes of Kallewi's marines. Michael commed Kallewi. "Look after her, Janos."
"I'll do my best."
Sergeant Tchiang's voice cut through the desultory chatter, and the marines were off, their ranks swollen with Fed spacers. In seconds, they were gone, swallowed by the darkness, and soon the soft tramp of booted feet faded away. Michael stood and stared down the tunnel for a long time. At last, with a heartfelt sigh, he turned and started to make his way back to ENCOMM. He could worry all he liked, and it made no difference. All he could do was hope that Anna was smart enough not to take too many stupid chances, that she would keep her head down, that she never volunteered for anything.
"Fat chance," he said under his breath, and climbed into the sled. Bloody woman was born to volunteer.
ENCOMM was quiet when he walked in; he scanned the boards to see what was happening in the real world. Nothing important, he decided after a moment's study. Right across the countryside around McNair, DocSec sweeps were in progress. Michael shook his head. Sweeps were the most counterproductive operations the Hammers undertook, and not a day passed without dozens combing their way through towns and villages all across Commitment. As far as Michael could work out, the sweeps created an illusion of effective counterinsurgency activity. In truth, they achieved little and pissed the locals off a lot. Thanks to DocSec's appalling operational security, anyone DocSec wanted to lay their hands on was usually long gone.
Not that the NRA was sitting back. Six operations were under way: four supply convoy ambushes, the assassination of a DocSec officer stupid enough to think he would be safe visiting his mother in a remote village, and a human-wave attack-Michael, like all the Feds, hated them, but they worked-on a planetary defense force support base close to the town of Perdan. He wished the faceless NRA troopers luck and made his way through the clutter of workstations to where Major Hok was sitting.
"Major Hok."