Vertigo lay on his cot. He kept reliving the conversation with the woman who called herself an angel, over and over again, until he wanted to scream. He couldn't seem to make himself shut it off. It was always there somewhere in the back of his mind. Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he wished fervently that he could just fall asleep and maybe have some peace for a while, but between the loop replaying in his head and the snatches of gossip he kept overhearing outside his tent that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

In the day and a half since Commander and Vertigo had reappeared at the camp with an unconscious Nathan, a bloodied Bliss, and a captured silver-haired Talent, the gossip was already getting out of control.

“I heard she beat up the Trio,” a soldier muttered, not quite softly enough that Vertigo couldn't hear her.

“Beat up nothing,” her compatriot responded. “I've seen Nathan take a slug big as my fist to the gut and he only needed a day or two before he was good as new. It's like she took the fight outta him.”

An hour or an eternity later, another small group passed by. “Bliss attacked Vert that one time when they first met, remember? Maybe it was all part of some big plan to send them after her? He just needed to see what she could do?”

“What, he wants to recruit her?” Another soldier scoffed at the first.

A third chimed in, “She's powerful, no doubt about it if she could take them on. With her on board, we'd be unstoppable.”

“More like he should string her head up by that pretty hair,” the second responded. “No way Commander would risk his three best soldiers like that.” Their voices faded as they moved out of earshot.

Restless, he pushed himself upright and flung his cloak on, wrapping his scarf tightly about his neck. He stalked through camp, looking for something to occupy himself, soaking in the rumors. Some of them hushed quickly when they noticed him; others turned away and continued their conversation in more conspiratorial tones.

“Bonediggers'r talking about challenging Commander's leadership,” one of the men on weapons cleaning duty muttered to the group. He didn't try to hide it as if it were unthinkable, as if he were afraid of being overheard. In fact, another soldier nodded her head in agreement. Another grunted in disapproval. Vertigo melted back into the shadows of the adjacent tent to listen for a moment.

“Crow's serious this time,” the female soldier added. “He's startin' to make promises.” Her emotionless voice sent a shiver down Vertigo's spine. Coup attempts weren't uncommon, but they always ended in failure, more often than not from within the ranks than by any action on Commander's part. Part of it was rivalry, one group not wanting to see another gain too much power, but mostly it was the fact that Commander brought so much to the table. Money, food, weapons, it was all top tier, and if anyone were to destroy the status quo, everyone would lose out. Still, the temptation was always there in one form or another, and the mood was more restive than usual. He'd never seen this much discontent.

“He's got to put her down soon, or shit will get tight.”

“Do that, and everyone makes him out as a weak leader who caves the second there might be a threat.” Vertigo vaguely recognized the gruff voice as belonging to one of the older soldiers.

“Great logic coming from the man constantly staring at her ass,” says someone else. Forced laughter rang out.

“I can't suss it out,” the older man insisted. “I can figure it most of the time, but not this time. It don't make a damn lick of sense.”

“What doesn't make sense?” Commander's voice rang out. Vertigo stepped out of cover.

The gruff-voiced, bearded mercenary looked down at his hands, stilled in their work at stripping a rifle. “Silver haired freak. Her being alive after what she did. Nobody can crack it.”

“Ah, the great mystery of life. How do any of us live? Heh, you can live more easily knowing she'll be out of your asshairs for a few days, and you can pass that on to your limp dick friends. Done musing?”

“Aye,” the mercenary said.

“Will wonders never cease. Vertigo, Nathan, and Bliss will be off duty roster for a few days. Go ahead and gossip till your heads explode, so long as you can manage to do two things at once. Gear'll be ready by sundown, spread the word.”

“Sir,” the man acknowledged, blood flushing his face.

“Oh, and tell the Bonediggers they have latrine duty. Shit talkers are shit diggers, as my pa always said. Heh, never mind. You never met him, and he was an asshole anyway.” Commander glanced up and motioned with his head at Vertigo to join him. “Vert, with me.”

Vertigo fell in beside Commander. Apathy borne of weariness kept him from asking questions, so he just followed to Commander's tent. Pushing the entrance flap open, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The silver-haired woman looked up at him wordlessly from her chair. They stared at each other for a moment. Silently, Vertigo let the tent flap fall and spun to face Commander. “What the fuck are you thinking?” he hissed. “Why is that bitch in your tent?”

Commander looked at him mildly. “Calm down, Vertigo,” he said, making no attempt to match Vertigo's tone.

“Calm down?” His voice rose. “You want me to fucking calm down? I'll calm down when the bitch is dead, that's what! She's a danger to us and everyone else around her! What the hell is your problem?”

“Hey hey hey.” Commander waggled a finger in front of his face. “Remember, you're talking to a superior officer here, and right now my problem is you. I expect you to be civil, and that's an order. Understood?”

“She tried to-” Commander looked at him. That was all, but it was enough to make Vertigo shut his mouth with a snap. “Yes, sir.”

“After you, then.” Commander held the tent flap open, gesturing for Vertigo to precede him. Vertigo flopped himself into a chair and crossed his arms over his chest, not looking at either of the other two. Commander set out three cups and poured water, the trickle of liquid the only sound breaking the silence. He settled back into his own chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach. “So, have you had a chance to think over my offer?”

Vertigo decided he really didn't want to know the details of that. The woman merely lifted her chin in response, her weird silver eyes now flat and still. The way she looked at Commander made him curious. It wasn't quite like she knew him, but she seemed almost... trusting. If she had a problem with... with Talents, he didn't have a good explanation for the difference in the way she was treating Commander versus the way she'd looked at him in the alley. It wasn't exactly friendliness but she obviously wasn't ready to kill him either.

“It sounds possible,” she finally responded. “What exactly would I be doing for you in exchange?” Her voice, although no longer heavy with anger, was still odd. She had a slight accent he couldn't place and she spoke at a lower pitch than most women, a smoky undercurrent lacing her words.

“Nothing too major.” Commander tilted his head back in a posture of relaxation. “There's someone who's been pissing me off lately and I want to show her what happens when you piss me off. Throw in your firepower, run with my elite squad.”

“Your elite squad... I assume you mean those half-breeds?” She narrowed her eyes at Vertigo, and he felt a fresh jolt of sick shock.

Commander sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought we'd agreed not to use that word....?”

She gave him a calculating look and said something in a language Vertigo didn't understand, full of liquid syllables. Commander responded harshly in the same language, and Vertigo blinked. Commander knew a couple of different languages, but he'd never heard this one before.

The stranger bared her teeth slightly and bit out, “You expect me to work with that... that...” She obviously couldn't find a word vile enough to describe Vertigo. He glared back at her.

“Yes, and I expect you all to play nicely with one another.”

She was instantly on her feet, fists clenched, hair crackling with static electricity. “No! I won't! You can't ask me to play nice with demonai scum!”

“You sign up for the corps, you place yourself under my orders. You work with the demonai scum or not at all.”

“Not at all then! I don't want anything to do with them!”

Commander scowled at her in a way that, had it been directed at him, would have caused Vertigo to drop the subject immediately. “If you want my help, you don't have a choice. Your first assignment is to integrate so that you'll be able to fight together, maybe even teach them a few new tricks.” Vertigo sourly noted that no one had asked his opinion on the subject, but kept his mouth shut.

She folded her arms over her chest. “You want to play with fire-” her pointed gaze in Vertigo's direction said literally - “that's your business. But don't expect me to play nice with half-breeds, demi-breeds, or anything else you've taken in out of the goodness of your heart, because I won't associate with them. Being in the same camp is bad enough.”

“Commander-”

Commander cut Vertigo off with a sharp hand motion, keeping his eyes on the woman. “What about them?” He fixed her with a steely glare.

“They're.. they're...” She struggled to find the words.

“Monsters? Freaks? Evil?” Commander supplied. “Hardly. Most of them are just scared, orphaned kids who don't realize who they are or what's happening to them, or they're just trying to get by as best they can. Where's a strong Talent with no guidance or resources going to end up? In trouble, that's where. So...” He spread his hands. “I put them to use. I give them a purpose for their existence and an outlet for their energy. Isn't that better than waiting until they go insane, or killing them needlessly?”

“Sooner or later, they're going to snap and start rampaging,” she argued.

“Why should they, if they're well-adjusted enough?”

“Because it's in their nature. You of all people should know what happens when-”

“I haven't seemed to have trouble with any of mine. Now drop the subject.” There was real steel in his voice. “Now...” He leaned back, resting his hands at the back of his neck and resting one ankle on the opposite knee. “Why don't you two get to know each other? I believe you've met briefly already.” There was a spark in his hazel eyes that made Vertigo grit his teeth and wish he could take a swing at him.

Silence reigned. Commander gave Vertigo another look. “What's your name?” he muttered harshly, looking past her. He was brimming with questions, and none of them were for her, but if he wanted any answers at all now was not the time.

She sighed and rolled her spooky silver eyes. “You can call me Kaelan.” She spoke her name with the same accent as the other language she'd spoken to Commander.

“I can call you?” he mocked. “What, too good to give us your real name?”

Her full lips tightened a fraction. “It is my real name. And what sort of a 'real' name is Vertigo?”

Commander quirked an eyebrow, and unaccountably embarrassment washed through him, something that usually never happened when people asked. “It's a nickname,” he growled. “It stuck.”

“Ah, yes,” Commander interjected, throwing an arm over Vertigo's shoulders. “Our Vert was quite the klutz back in the day. Breaking things all over the place. Stumbling into everything, and everyone. We wondered if he had some sort of brain problem. Why, I remember the time-”

“Damn it, Commander,” Vertigo bit out tersely, tensing under Commander's arm. “Not now.”

Grinning, Commander subsided. Kaelan merely gave them a look of disgust. The conversation, such as it was, stalled to a halt.

“Alright then.” Commander stood. “I guess there'll be plenty of time to get cozy later. Kaelan, why don't I give you a tent to call your own.” He gestured for her to precede him out of the tent. Kaelan rose and swept out without sparing another glance for Vertigo. He felt at once relieved and slighted. Commander had meant it as a dismissal for him as well, but right now he had other things on his mind. He stayed put, and when Commander returned it was clear that he wasn't pleased. “Vertigo. Still here?” Commander busied himself with a stack of papers on his desk.

“What's the play here, Commander?” Vertigo asked bluntly. “Cause this is bullshit.” He tried to think of an opening line. “What was that language?”

“It's called Celestial. You might say it's the language of magic. Comes in handy when studying spells.” His head stayed down, hands still occupied with documents, randomly shuffling paper.

Vertigo sighed and came straight to the point. “What's this demonai, half-breed business?” His tongue struggled around the unfamiliar word.

“Hm.” Commander still wasn't looking at him. “There are some interesting theories out there about Talents. Not to mention some old prejudices. It's nothing you need to worry about.”

“Kaelan, in the alley,” Vertigo insisted. “She said something about angels and demons. She said she was an angel and I was some kind of part demon.”

“Shit.” Commander sighed and put a hand to his forehead , sinking down into his chair. Vertigo waited. It was a long moment before Commander spoke again. “If I tell you some things, can I trust you not to say anything to Nathan or Bliss until I can sit down with them and explain properly?”

Vertigo nodded wordlessly, already determined to break that promise.

“It's true. She's an angel.”

His eyes widened at the confirmation. It had been clear that there was something off about her, and she was more powerful than anyone he'd ever come up against – with the possible exception of Commander himself – but hearing it made it suddenly real. “Wait. Angels really exist?”

“Yes.”

“And demons? And you knew about this? How?”

“I know all sorts of things the average person would kill for. By the way, that's accurate. People hear rumors about a real-life angel or demon around, they're likely to get spooked. Imagine what happens in some places when they figure you're a Talent, only ten times worse. So don't go around talking about it.”

“So if she was telling the truth about being an angel...” Vertigo swallowed. “I'm... part demon?”

Commander nodded slowly, watching him.

“And Nathan? And.... Bliss?”

Commander nodded once more.

If he'd been standing, Vertigo would have staggered. A rush of dizziness enveloped him, as though the world had suddenly reversed its turn and he had nothing to hold onto. “What about you? You've got Talent...”

“I do have demon blood in me, yes. That's where magic comes from. Demons interbreeding with mortals occasionally, passing on the abilities. Naturally half-demons are weaker than full-bloods, but we're still leagues more powerful than your average mortal with a quarter or a drop of demon in them.”

“So why doesn't she hate you?” Vertigo demanded. “She was out for blood with all three of us just because we're...” He choked on the words. “...Different. How come she didn't attack you?”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “Well, for one thing, I didn't charge at her headlong.” Commander shrugged mysteriously. “I'm very persuasive when I want to be. And I offered her something she very much needs.”

“What's that?”

A level look over the tops of his dark glasses. “My assistance.” Vertigo stared at him, still in shock. Commander rose and approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Vertigo. Nothing has changed. You're still you. I was planning to tell you-”

“When?” Vertigo jerked away violently, glaring. “When were you planning to tell me?”

“When you were ready.” Commander gazed at him sternly. “Believe it or not, I do have your best interests at heart.”

“Maybe you were going to tell me after some bitch like her came stalking me? Like she apparently was doing to that guy in the alley? Or Nathan and Bliss? Maybe after one of us gets killed for something we can't help and don't even know about?” Shock gave way to anger and his jaw tightened, shoulders tensed. Heat rippled along his skin like a warning and he held it back with an effort. “How long were you going to keep lying to us?”

Commander's expression turned grave. “I've never lied to you, Vertigo. Everything I've told you is still true. You were an orphan and I took you in to give you a better life. I was told your mother died giving birth to you. Your father...” His lips tightened. “Your father was likely a demon who slept with your mother and didn't realize he'd gotten her pregnant. I sensed your potential and I thought you deserved a chance to grow up somewhere you wouldn't be feared for your power.”

“You only wanted me because I'm... half demon.” The words came out bitter. “You knew I'd have powers and you wanted me as one of your toy solders. You wanted someone you could have in your pocket from the beginning. If I hadn't been of any use to you, you'd have just left me there.”

“Vert...”

“No. I'm done. I've heard enough.” He stood, shaking with anger. “Thanks, boss. Thanks a lot.” Commander tried to say something – call him back, calm him down, it didn't really matter. Vertigo stormed out of the tent, wishing he'd never gone looking for answers.