When Chiro picked up the lieutenant, the man nearly lost it.  But the serpent's calm yet angry demeanor kept him from screaming outright.  Instead, he listened in terror to Chiro's words.  When the serpent left him to sit beside his sister, the lieutenant was still too frightened to say much.<br/><br/>As Bane spoke his mind and took Fenson off the truck, O'Toole went to help him.  Janus and Collins also jumped down off the truck.  The lieutenant recovered enough to draw his own weapon, a .45 caliber handgun, and held it in his good hand. dHe raised it beside his head, the barrel pointed skywards.<br/><br/>"Nobody here is in ANY position to make a FUCKING DECISION!" he screamed.  "No humans are leaving this platoon!  You are all under my command, and will do as I say, NO QUESTIONS!"  He looked at O'Toole.  "Sergeant O'Toole!  Get that man back on the truck!"  He whirled to Janus and Collins.  "You men!  Get your sorry asses back up here!"  He spun, waiting for compliance.  None came.  "THAT IS AN ORDER!" he shouted.<br/><br/>From atop a building nearby, the anthro-fox following them called, "Hey, when you're ready for me to come down, just yell and I'll be right there, and that human-" he pointed at the lieutenant "--really needs to learn to leave things to those most capable."<br/><br/>The lieutenant's face twisted into a mask of rage.  He sighted the pistol and cocked it back, aiming at the fox.<br/><br/>Then came the Highlander rat's words, clear and frustrated.  The lieutenant turned his head to regard the short fur as he spoke.  Sergeant Halvorson stood by silently, listening as Baz laid out his case.  He said nothing when he was urged to take over.  The lieutenant heard the rat threaten him with a long, haunted life, followed with damnation in Hell.  He heard him call him a coward.  That was enough.  The lieutenant shifted the aim of his pistol from the fox atop the roof to the rat's head.  His finger tightened on the trigger.<br/><br/>Then his head jerked forward as it was struck from behind.  The lieutenant fell limply to the deck of the truck, unconscious.  O'Toole was standing over him, her quarterstaff's mark on the back of his scalp.<br/><br/>She looked up at Halvorson.  "That felt good," she sighed.<br/><br/>He looked back at her, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and regret.<br/><br/>She went on, pantomiming surprise.  "Oh, my!  The lieutenant must be sick!"  She bent over him and checked his pulse and breathing.  "He's out cold!  Whatever will we do?"  She looked up at the medic.  "Where's the platoon First Sergeant?"<br/><br/>The medic looked back at her, unimpressed.  "He's dead.  Fur fodder."<br/><br/>"Dear me!" said O'Toole.  "I guess that means--"<br/><br/>"All right, O'Toole," said Halvorson.  "If you want me to command this outfit, that's just fine.  Seems like I ain't got a choice now."  He pointed at the lieutenant.  "But the minute he wakes up, it's his outfit again."  He looked around.  "All right, let's get off this thing.  Everyone off and into the safe house.  We load up, see to the wounded, and get some rest.  Soon as we're able, we leave.  We head back to brigade HQ.  Longer we're off the front lines, longer we're not getting our freedom."  He looked at the faces regarding him for a moment.  "Let's move," he ordered.<br/><br/>The humans lowered themselves off the truck.  The driver, unable to figure out how to shut the engine off, left the truck running in the street as everyone disembarked and walked up to the safe house.<br/><br/>O'Toole caught up with Bane and helped him with Fenson, who had settled into a deep sleep.  She looked at him for a moment, wanting to say something, but unable to word it correctly.<br/><br/>Halvorson looked also, from a distance.  What Bane had said about not being in the platoon bothered him to a degree, but he decided not to mention it.  The boy was a damn good asset.  Not only that, he was getting to be someone Halvorson liked and trusted.  He didn't want to see the kid get sliced up in a fight, but he didn't want to lose his skills and street smarts, either.<br/><br/>He looked at Chiro.  The serpent had a wisdom about him that, when added to his physical abilities, did justice to the ancient legends of dragons.<br/><br/>He looked at the fox atop the rooftop nearby.  Bastard was too vague to be trusted still, but he apparently was following them out of curiosity, not a desire to harm them.  He waved to him and called, "Come on down, but no tricks."  He grabbed Janus and Collins.  "Keep an eye on him," he whispered to them.  They looked at each other, then nodded.<br/><br/>Then Halvorson looked at Baz.  The Highlander was definitely a friend.  He was an outcast, just like all of humanity.  And he had a code of honor that fascinated the sergeant.  In times like these, it paid to have honor.  It also paid to keep that honor - keep your promises, keep your friends, and everything will come through for you.  The Resistance's leader, Eric Lentan, had said something like that when he visited Halvorson's training cell once, many weeks ago.<br/><br/>Halvorson looked at the skein dhu in his hand, then walked to the door of the safe house.  He paused a moment, checking that everyone was nearby, and knocked.