Torin looked down at his captain, who suddenly seemed a lot taller.
"She's talking shit about you, Cap'. Saying we're fragile without you."
"She said the 'strategy' was fragile. Not you guys. There's a difference. You should listen more carefully." Elias finally turned his head toward him. "Now, you're going to apologize to the Vice-Captain. For your tone. Not the content, just the tone. And then you're going to clean the HQ latrines. All of them. With a toothbrush. Yours."
Torin turned crimson. "Cap'..."
"Now, Torin."
The giant clenched his fists. His jaw muscles worked. He looked at Mara.
Then he lowered his head. "Sorry, Vice-Captain. For my tone."
The words seemed to tear his throat.
"It's... accepted," Mara managed, her voice strained.
Torin turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Elias sighed. He turned to the others, still seated and frozen. "Show's over. Everyone out. Go sleep. Or play cards. Or whatever. Get lost."
No one needed to be told twice. In under fifteen seconds, the room was empty, leaving just Mara and Elias standing in front of the whiteboard, with the ghosts of unwritten words.
Elias picked up the remains of his sandwich.
"Good first meeting," he said. "A bit too much drama for my taste, but it had some spice."
He headed for the door.
"He was right," Mara murmured.
He stopped.
"About what?" he asked without turning.
"I haven't earned my place here. I'm just... the bureaucrat with stripes."
He turned slowly. He looked at her.
"Everyone here earned their place in blood and fear, O'Connell. Me first." He took a step toward her. "You want yours? Stop trying to change the rules of the game. Learn them first."
"The rules? What rules? There are NO rules here! Just... you!"
He smiled. "Exactly. And until proven otherwise, I'm the captain. So here's your first real lesson: in this company, we survive first. We philosophize later. If you can accept that, maybe we can work together."
"And if I don't?"
He shrugged. "Then you'll keep organizing meetings no one listens to, filling out reminders no one reads, and one day, a Class A rift will open, and you'll be the only one following protocol. And you'll die following the rules perfectly."
He turned and left, leaving her alone in the empty conference room, with the smell of dust, disinfectant, and the bitter truth of his words echoing in the silence.
The shield-shaped clock ticked.
Tick.
Tock.
Mara closed her eyes. She felt something warm and wet on her cheek.
She wiped it away brusquely.
'No.'
She opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on the marker she was still holding.
She approached the whiteboard. With a sharp stroke, she crossed out the title "INCIDENT 7-GOLF." Then she wrote, in bold, energetic capitals:
/JAEGER SURVIVAL RULES/
She paused, marker hovering.
Then, below it, she wrote the first point:
/1. EVERYONE COMES HOME./
She stepped back, staring at the words.
She turned the marker in her hand.
Then she took a deep breath.
'Alright, Elias Mercer. If you want to play it that way...'
She turned off the light and left the room.
—
Mara was sitting in an uncomfortable chair facing a wall-mounted videoconference screen. Elias was slouched in the armchair beside her, feet crossed on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone.
"Captain Mercer," crackled the Commander's voice from the screen. "Could you at least pretend to pay attention?"
Elias looked up. "I'm listening with my ears, Commander. My eyes are busy elsewhere. Multitasking."
Hargrave sighed. He was a man in his fifties, gray hair cropped short, square face, and a scar crossing his left eyebrow.
"Vice-Captain O'Connell's report," Hargrave said, tapping something off-screen. "Incident 7-Golf. A Class B+ rift contained. No civilian losses. Minimal material damage." He paused. "No civilian evacuation report submitted. No prior notification to the Regulation Authority. No coordination with support units."
"Everyone came home," Elias said. "That's all that matters."
"What matters, Captain, is that you follow protocol! You can't just—"
"Can we talk about the civilians who would've died if I'd triggered evacuation?" Elias cut in. "Because the Nemeses were positioned right above the main exit. By the time people got out, they'd have been minced meat."
"You could've coordinated with—"
"Support units were twenty minutes away. The Nemeses could've moved in four. Math's simple, Commander."
Hargrave massaged his temples. "Captain Mercer. You're sanctioned. Two weeks administrative suspension with reduced pay."
Elias shrugged. "Cool. Vacation."
"It's NOT a vacation!" Hargrave exploded. "It's an official sanction! It'll go in your file!"
"My file's already three hundred pages. Add one more."
Mara felt her nails digging into her palms.
Elias stood. "Anything else, Commander? I've got a date with my armchair."
"Sit down," Hargrave growled.
Elias paused. He turned his head. "I've been sanctioned. Case closed. I don't need to hear a sermon."
"SIT DOWN!"
An icy silence fell. Even Elias blinked.
Slowly, he sat back down.
Hargrave took a long breath. "Vice-Captain O'Connell. Your report was... thorough. And depressing."
"Sir," Mara said, straightening her back. "Jaeger Company operates in total chaos. There's no structure. No discipline. Captain Mercer is... is..."
She searched for the word.
"A bad captain," she finally said.
Elias snorted.
Hargrave closed his eyes. "Continue."
"He files no written reports. He systematically ignores protocols. He encourages insubordination. His men worship him like a god and reject any external authority. It's a personality cult, not a military unit."
"Done?" Hargrave asked.
"No, sir." Mara leaned forward. "His methods put his own hunters in danger. He sends untrained recruits against Class C Nemeses. He improvises everything. And when I try to implement structures, he sabotages me. In front of the whole team."
Elias yawned.
Mara shot him a dark look. "You find this funny?"
"I find it fascinating," Elias said. "You've managed to turn me into a movie villain. Impressive."
"Silence," Hargrave cut in. He looked at Mara. "Vice-Captain O'Connell. Did you read Captain Mercer's full file before accepting this post?"
"I... skimmed it."