Silver Saint

Seven: New Horizons

//Report: Quinn, Jackson.

//The interior of a Seraphim-class dropship.

//Grecian airspace.

//Resume log.

"Ow, damn it!"

Dan pulled back from my arm with a start, a clear plastic tube in his hand. He lifted the antirad pouch into the air, and a brilliant blue liquid began to drain from the plastic pack, through the tube and into my arm.

We were standing in the hallway aboard Saint Corp's illustrious new dropship—a hallway that was a great deal more spacious than the cramped interior of Dropship 13 that I was used to. Gone was the grate flooring and cheap lockers, replaced with proper metal nonslip tread, bright LED lights and recessed storage cabinets for essential supplies.

"Oh, quit your moaning," Dan sighed. "You people all think that just because I have a doctorate, I'm supposed to be good at medical stuff. I'm an engineer, not a physician!"

"Yeah, I can tell!" I hissed, rubbing at my arm. "If you were any clumsier with that IV I think I'd need stitches!"

"Believe me, I think you'd prefer my bedside manner to Lucas or Amani,'' Dan smirked. He handed me the pack of antirad and stepped back, giving a self-satisfied nod. "At the very least, you won't keel over on us yet, this dose should flush the last of the radiation out of you. But do try to avoid any more extended stays in mechs with damaged cores. Doctor's orders."

I held up a finger. "I thought you weren't that type of doctor!"

"Jax..." Dan frowned.

"No promises, Doctor Stonewood." I returned his glare with a smile.

"You know, we've got a doctor back home who could've done that painlessly," Leto called. He strode down the hallway toward us, gesturing to the pack of antirad in my hand.

"That's fair," Dan replied. He seemed to stiffen around Leto, but his tone remained pleasant. "I get the feeling we'll have to get used to being a little less self-reliant now."

"Right? It's great!" Leto responded. Dan's sigh didn't seem to bother the cocky blonde pilot, even as his enthusiasm steamrolled over Dan's dour attitude. "I've been a freelancer for a long time, and I've never had a gig like this. These Saint Corp types spare no expense, man! They've got people to repair your mechs, people to cook whatever meals you want, hell I bet they'd assign someone to wipe your ass if you asked nicely!"

"Charming," Dan deadpanned. "Say, how long have you been working for this Sanviento guy anyway?"

"Nine months, fifteen days and... nine hours," Leto chirped. "I always keep track."

We stared at him for a moment in silence. I was about to change the subject, when Leto seemed to snap.

"Okay, look, let's quit the silent judgement, okay?" Leto blurted. He tugged at the sleeves of his blazer, straightening it. "I know what I am, and I know why I fight. Tried the selfless hero shtick once, and it... didn't work out. But I respect you guys for sticking with it, and that's why I'm paid to be here. To help."

Leto seemed to deflate after this outburst, staring at Dan and I in turn with a sheepish expression.

"Sorry, I just... I'm not a dirty mercenary, okay? Professionals have standards."

Dan raised a hand, and in one swift motion clapped it down on Leto's shoulder, surprising us both. Dan stared down at the man, and to my shock I saw a look of genuine sympathy.

Leto looked terrified.

"When I first defected to SPEAR, I spent weeks as an outcast because nobody fully believed I had done so out of the kindness of my heart," he stated. "The few soldiers Mallet and Laura had assembled at the time absolutely hated me. But I earned their trust by proving my loyalty to them over time. I believe you can do the same."