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Suddenly, and much to my surprise, I was overcome by emotion. It was as if something deep inside me recognized the cyborg and felt a kinship for him. I stepped between his
tracks, put my arms around his shoulders, and gave him a hug. He hugged me back, and it felt good. Good to be valued, good to be welcome, good to be missed. Even if I couldn t
remember who the hell he was. I released him and took three steps backwards.
Machinery whined as Wamba turned towards Sasha.  Hello, Ms. Casad, and welcome to my humble abode.
I had never seen the kid look shy, but she did now.  Thank you. It s nice to be here.
Wamba smiled.  I doubt that, but it s nice of you to say so. Now, tell me about the ambush, who staged it, and why.
I looked at Sasha. She managed to avoid my eyes. It was as if something kept her from talking about what we d been through. Something she knew and I didn t. It made me
angry, so I started at the beginning and spilled my guts. Wamba listened without comment. Finally, when all the words had been said, he nodded.
 You are, as my daddy liked to say, standing in deep weeds. And, while I don t know what s going on any more than you do, I might be able to offer some clues.
The cyborg paused for a moment and looked me in the eye.  You don t remember me, do you?
I hung my head in shame.  No, I don t.
Machinery whined as his head nodded up and down.  I thought not. You were one of the craziest and most insubordinate officers I ever had the pleasure to command. And
you re, well, different somehow. Changed in ways I can t quite put a finger on. What do you remember?
I looked to Sasha for help, but her one good eye was focused on a spot three feet over Wamba s head. She made no attempt to help or interfere.  Nothing. Nothing prior to my
discharge, anyway.
Wamba nodded as though he had expected as much.  Let me tell you a story. A story about the last time I saw you. We drew a mission, one with lots of hair on it, and were
headed for a research station known as T-12. It was right in the middle of the asteroid belt and very well defended. There were three boats in all. We drew straws. You pulled the first,
Captain Daw drew the second, and I came last. You led us in& 
My head began to throb, a door creaked open, and the dreams returned. Wamba s voice droned on, but I was somewhere in the past, living it, feeling it, being it.
The ejection tube worked the way it was supposed to and blasted us away from the ship. Stars whirled, then stabilized as I brought the battle suit under control and oriented
myself to the target. It looked like a mountain that had been plucked from the Himalayas and set free in space. Sunlight rippled across the planetoid s surface as it tumbled end over end.
I saw light glint off metal and felt something heavy fall into my stomach. Even the best suits leak heat, and I could damned near feel their missile launchers swivel in my direction. I
triggered the command freq and gave the command.
 Go!
The team arrowed in like sharks in search of fresh meat. I was vaguely aware that Daw and Wamba had cleared their ships and were headed in the same direction. It made
damned little difference, though, since we were committed. The Loot would extract us if she lived long enough to do so, or we d wait for relief. Not a pleasant thought.
A fire requires oxygen, and a battle suit contains damned little thanks to the endless vacuum around it. So the fireball that consumed Private Naglie lasted less than a second. I
swore, but gave thanks too, knowing his death would give the team another surge of adrenaline. Adrenaline they needed to survive.
A buzzer buzzed, and my heads-up display (HUD) indicated the tool heads were coming out to meet us. The gunny confirmed it.
 M-dog two to M-dog one. We have four-zero, repeat, four-zero T-heads outbound our sector. Over.
Wamba had a command freq that could override the rest of us. He used it.  B-dog one to M-dog one. Team two owns twenty right. You take twenty left. Team three will cover.
Over.
I switched to the team freq.  M-dog one to M-dog team. Twenty right belong to us. Three will cover. Mark  em and take  em. Over.
Though not supposed to take an active role, I had no desire to watch while my team fought. I picked a blip, marked it as my own, and checked to make sure that the rest were
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