“I don’t know…” Mugs was speaking by the fire, across from Shin who was roasting a chicken he had managed to catch earlier that evening. Thomas sat beside him, mouth watering as he watched the bird’s juices drip and sizzle into the flames. Somewhere off in the dark were Jim and Kate, likely sleeping after the day’s nonstop trek out of the Wastes to make it to the meeting spot on time.

They were sitting under the rusted structural beams of an old and abandoned massive warehouse. High above their heads was a roof that was miraculously intact, though the walls themselves were pockmarked with holes. Half-broken and scattered wooden barrels were strewn around the premises, pieces of broken and useless machinery equally chaotic, giving the surrounding area an ominous appearance as the fire cast their dancing shadows.

“She never told me her name, Tommy.” Mugs flicked a twig into the fire. “And she don’t plan on givin’ it. What you have a burning ache to know it for, anyhow?”

“No need, bossman! Just curious, is all,” Thomas muttered.

“You fancy her, eh? Got a thing for mute girls?”

“C’mon, boss! Well…” Thomas gave a sheepish smirk. “She sure is easy on the eyes.”

“Don’t get too attached. Got no idea where she’ll be headed. We have no room for civilians in this crew and the way I see it she’s more use to our client. She’s dead weight here and everywhere else.” Mugs blinked and looked away from the fire. “Times are tough now. Won’t nobody that’ll take her in like that.”

“Ay,” Jim walked up to the fire munching on a piece of bread again. He was shirtless, his chest wrapped up cleanly to cover the skin that had broken from their encounter with the assassin. “She don’t need to speak to make use as a whore.”

“For the third time, Jim, it’s not happenin’, and if you make me repeat myself once more I swear to Mother Mary I will hit you again.”

Jim rolled his eyes and sat down, dismissing the subject. “So what we doin’ here, anyways? I thought the plan was to collect our money in New Petersburg and start movin’ up to the North Bloc.”

“Plans change, Jim,” Mugs said, “but we’re due to collect on our cash here. Tomorrow morning our benefactors will show. But whether they aim to fulfill their promise remains to be seen because we failed to fulfill our own.”

“Oh yeah, you’s was sayin’ before, something about that rich little native girl sittin’ lifeless back in the Wastes.”

Mugs clenched his jaw. The man’s insensitivity was a known factor, but it was more grating than usual. “Ideally, she was to be part of the exchange, yes. Her death has changed that. It will change a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like war,” Shin spoke up. “The Emperor has been dead for years. The Sparkfall took his life and nearly that of his revolution. The Imperialists need a new face for their people. They need inspiration.” He pulled the chicken away from the fire and took a delicate bite from it, chewing thoughtfully. “She was to become Empress and their enemies knew of it. Spies everywhere. Belonging to gaijin or the backwards Tokugawa cult or other evil men. Her leadership would be a threat to many people. And now it is no longer.”

“Everyone’s already at war, Leggy. What difference does this make!”

“A war can be civilized or uncivilized. It can be fought between each side, away from the innocent. It can claim territory where the farmer does not care of the outcome. Where he is left free and alone because without the farmer and his wife there is no food and there is no children. And when a war is brutal and senseless, when both sides see only blood and revenge, there is chaos. The innocent die, the crops wither away and our future turns to dust. The uncivilized war is annihilation not for one’s victory but for the burning desire to see the enemy defeated, no matter the cost.”