[h3]The Lone Survivor[/h3]
	'[i]Fair that you know if you’re going to stay there,[/i]' indeed, "Enn" (who was still not quite used to thinking of himself as as having that name) repeated in his mind... After he had barely a minute ago told her that a notable part of his role up until this point had specifically been [u]not[/u] to know no more than he absolutely needed to know. Overhear a bit too much, and it could very easily become very unhealthy, should anyone find out. But here he was, being freely informed that he would have an inanimate neighbor that could effectively evaporate him if something went wrong, should he decide to stick around. Because it was [i]fair[/i]. 
	There was some grim irony in that, he figured.
	[i]"Here,"[/i] insisted one of the seemingly many invisible birds. 
	A momentary instinctive twitch went through his body as the woman shifted her arms to cross those over her chest, but he managed to suppress it before it could propagate into something that was externally visible as her intent became obvious. One effect - intentional or unintentional - of these armors was dehumanizing the wearer ... male, female, afraid, angry, gleeful, who knew. Probably also made it less likely for anyone taking aim at you less likely to suddenly develop a consciousness, or at least made it harder for someone whose friend you killed to remember your face or find out your name. Not everyone they were attacking donned as obscuring armor, if any, after all.
	In any case, if he is going to be going with her, he should probably stop assuming she was just waiting for her chance and would try and draw her gun to shoot him in the face as soon as he lowered his guard. Admittedly, it [i]would[/i] have been the perfect moment for it, now that he was no longer pointing his own gun at her, or even holding it in a firing-ready fashion. Granted, her's was a "mere" handgun, but it looked fairly bulky, and at such a short distance, he did not exactly want to firsthand find out how good a shot the woman was, or how well his visor or neck armor would fare against whatever ammunition her gun used. 
	His armor was designed more with guns like his in mind, but at medium-to-close range, it did not really have stopping power against military-grade long gun bullets, more it just mitigated the damage ... made the difference between having a shattered bone and a gaping wound and simply having a limb torn clear off. Head or neck, and it did not make much of a difference. You were almost as likely to be dead either way. 
	A distinct image from just last night crept back into his mind, that of one of his companions almost next to him trying to recover from one hit, only for his head to snap back from a shot and the man to collapse - but moreso the instant, final, and somehow [i]absolute[/i] knowledge that the other was dead, and there was no point in even checking. That that was it. Over. Done. He would have known even without any prior knowledge. As surely as he had known, by the end, that 'his' side [i]was going to[/i] lose. 
	- It was always easier to make a weapon than protection against it. If defensive technology were to ever be distinctly ahead of offensive technology, it would probably lead to some spectacularly pointless wars...

	Not willing to dwell any longer on his own grim ponderings, he focused once more on what the woman was saying. 
	"[i]Here,[/i]" thought a bird. 
	[i]What use is a weapon of mass destruction if do not have the means to deliver it,[/i] he wondered. [i]Take it apart, bury it far away, don't risk some random flyover bombing or someone's mishap setting it off...[/i]
	Kay-Gee stared at him, wide-eyed, [i]“Eh, do you understand?"[/i]
	To that, he could only shake his head. Slowly. Deliberately. Just by turning his head thrice. It could perhaps be assumed that he kept his sights on the woman from the range of the motion, but the meaning he wanted to convey was unmistakable. 
	Sure, they did not have to tell their opponents they had no functional means of delivery, but they were hardly going to let them a go at probing the thing to make sure it was real, either, were they? And past that, anyone could say anything. If you fielded something and demonstrated its might, it could be reported back about, but claims were just that: claims. It was easy to say you were bigger and scarier than you appeared, hard to prove so without causing appropriate destruction. Thus, no, he did not [i]really[/i] understand. 
	As she continued on, however, his brain shifted gears again, and confusion turned into bewildered anger. [i]You lot are [b]lunatics.[/b][/i] Not only did they have no adequate means to counter an assault, their last line of defense was to simply blow themselves up... To prematurely finish the job. It seemed petty, almost. 'If I can't keep my stuff, then no one shall have it, [i]ever.[/i]' They were hardly going to let anyone who wanted flee beforehand, were they? [i]No deserters from Eighfour... [/i]
	It seemed at least as uncaring towards the individual as his old faction had been. He guessed he was used to a heartless system, so in the end, it made little difference. One thing was clear, though: they had not a [i]bloody[/i] clue how a faction like his actually thought. The lives of their own soldiers were cheap now that humans were no longer supposedly near-extinct, worth only as much as their gear and actions. The lives of some small cult of lunatics who threatened to blow themselves up when they came too close ... were worth effectively nothing. [i]Incinerate most of this damn forest...[/i]
	"How much is eighty-four kilotons exactly?" he inquired, seemingly ignoring her last question for the time being. He had hardly moved, which meant that by appearances, he had been just looking at her for the duration of her explanations. "That forest is about a hundred kilometers across, isn't it?"
	[i]So you don't want everyone to die... I did not, either. Did not exactly help with anyone but me not dying, did it?[/i] Another, perhaps more serious question was what on earth did she think he could potentially do... Be her renegade soldier in shining armor and save the day? There were no such things as heroes, only more powerful units. And he was an infantryman, not a tactician, not an air force. Just a notch up from a literal nobody. Now, he essentially [i]was[/i] a literal nobody.  
	Or should he consider himself part of Eighfour's forces now? [i]All[/i] of their forces? He supposed it was a more familiar frame of mind, at least. Quit being concerned over his own belonging and start trying to figure out how he would keep Eighfour alive against overwhelming odds. ...Despite the fact that he was and had always been just a gun, and his designated way of keeping people alive was to shoot others before they could shoot them. And to hide behind rocks to keep himself alive.
	He sighed, deeply. 
	"What do Anderekians have to fear from your lot blowing themselves up? We... [i]They [/i]do not have any bases or stations down here. Only up there -" he motioned his left, free hand roughly towards where he knew the cliffdrop to be "- and the one closest to the edge is still over half a dozen kilometers farther. If what I suspect is correct and it's gone now, it'd be over a dozen kilometers farther still. But unless the Trenian party has retracted, they are still there, right by the edge. If you told Anderekians you have a nuke, what do you think would happen? 
	If they have any units here, those would be called back. But a supersonic bomber would be sent out. Or a few of those. These usually fly high, even during strikes. Raze your - or our, I guess - place with their own bombs or [i]deliberately[/i] set the nuke off with a direct hit, it does not matter. No Eighfour, no problem, and if they're lucky, it'd either have the Trenians scurry off or have them drop dead, too. All people like me would know is that the amount of anti-radiation pills has been doubled up, and they can probably chalk it up to a solar flare or something.
	Whatever you do, [i]don't[/i] make them think it might be optimal to just wipe everything out. Do not set ultimatums to those bigger and perhaps even more ruthless than you. It'll just make them act more decisively."
	There was a longer pause. Well, [i]fuck.[/i] It was also always easier to point out that a plan was a terrible one than to come up with a halfway decent one. 
	[i]"Here,"[/i] offered a bird.
	"If you had a couple of those damned hell-lasers, it would a different matter. Doubt the Trenians are going to lend theirs, wherever they pulled those out from. Or anything that could substitute. Or the favor of any equally powerful but less offensive faction, I suppose. Those will probably assimilate you, but at least people will live. Most of them, anyway. Or you could pack your things and leave..."
	He tilted his head back. 
	"There is probably some amount of time during which they'll reel back and reorganize before they reach this way... I know [i]something[/i] about how my old faction operates, but everything I did not need to know was withheld, and if I know it, then I shouldn't. If you see scouts or scourers, then it's getting close... The longer they have a reason to believe you're a piece of something larger, or at least don't know how formidable you are, the better. Others ... I don't know. I've only faced Trenians, and then not exactly on conversational terms. There were others, before we mostly fought Trenians, but those were before my time. Older soldiers talked about them. Some manner of machine-humans."
	He refrained from glancing at the woman.
	"Look, I ... we would have to think. And I'd probably at least want to eat. I've not eaten since I set out before last night, you know. Perhaps find some dry clothes and stop looking distinctly like an Anderekian soldier. And go somewhere else. Those birds unnerve me. Someone else might get the same idea you did."