Thebes regarded Vreta closely, scanning his biometrics. It turned out he’s seen this Rothian hanging around the laboratory before they’d entered a much more deadly simulation than this. “I don’t see any reason why not. These sims can get rough, do you think you can handle it? You’ll need to scan in a weapon over there.”

“Ah! Looks like a fight! I’m in!” someone bellowed throatily from the giant room’s staging area. Thebes looked past Vreta and saw a heavily armoured, very tall man with a bushy yellow beard barging through the crowds of marines. “Hail, Sacred Band!” He waved at them before pushing past a line of soldiers waiting to grab their weapons. The giant placed a five foot hammer with a long handle and a menacing pellet shaped weight into the machine to get his sim-equivalent before coming toward Thebes.

“Kjartan, we have an agreement. Stay clear of us and we’ll stay clear of you.” Knossos growled, stepping in his way. “The agreement stands, old man. I’ve transferred from the Varangian Guard to the Sacred Band as of today. Captain’s orders. I’m one of you now! Seems Memnon bit off more than he could chew-” Saddam appeared behind the giant, and between them, they brutally kicked Kjartan’s feet out and forced him to his knees. He was still nearly face to face with them.

The Norseman spread his palms to either side of his body, still clutching his hammer. He chuckled jovially. “Hey. Relax. We’re on same side now, remember?” Thebes came over and leaned over the man. “Prove it.” Kjartan quickly produced documentation that hovered in the air between them. “Transfer papers. Temporary - until you find new gunner.”

“Thebes, this isn’t a good-” Thebes cut Knossos off with a raised finger, reading the mandate. Finally, he leaned out. “Welcome to the team. You don’t get a cut.” Kjartan laughed heartily. “That’s the spirit! I am on retainer with Captain anyway. Let’s fight!” The Sacred Band let him get to his feet.