Rox didn't hear a single word her boys were saying. Her eyes and attention were fastened solely on the figure that just walked in the door.

Rabin.

Barely an hour after she'd dropped off their alcohol delivery, too, yet here he was. Not drunk, but not sober. He didn't come to say hello to her, either, but that wasn't anything new. They tended to ignore one another in public, especially when he was alone and she was with her boys. Neither was really the talkative type when others were watching; they preferred to wreak their havoc together and in solitude. But ever since they'd pranked Nicolai a few years back, Rabin hadn't come to her for anything but trade. No pranks. No jokes. Bereft of one of her most equal tricksters, Rox was actually a little worried about the sudden change in Rabin's personality, but didn't know how to breach the gap that had grown between them.

Still, that in itself wasn't enough to make her worry... but he looked depressed, and that was cause for extreme anxiety. Rabin never looked depressed. Angry, usually, or mischievious, or malicious, or just pissed off, but never quiet and withdrawn like that. Without a word to her boys, Rox left Mik and the others behind and strode over to where Rabin sat slumped in a booth. Glass in hand, she slid onto the seat beside him, and in a completely uncharacteristic display of serious concern, managed a quiet smile at him and raised an eyebrow.

But it occurred to Rabin that it had been two an a half years since Rox and he had played. Things changed in two and a half years. Rox's opinion might have also.

"What?" Her eyes widened comically, and she erupted in a fit of giggles, spilling the remains of her drink as her glass rolled off the table and hit the floor with a muffled clink on the carpet. It took a moment to regain some semblance of her composure, a little of her concern returning as she took in the weariness in his features. Her smile faded further when he met her eyes.

A thug?

But it wasn't one of Mik's friends - it was Rick! They haven't seen Rick in years... as commanders of two of the leading armies in Battle School, it was quite a surprise how Rick and Dal didn't compete with each other - but became friends of each other. They used to consult a lot during the old Battle School days... if dal ever had a close friend aside for Jab and Ramsey, it was Rick. He was more than glad to see his familiar face in this place. It won't be so bad, after all.

He thought for a moment.

"The brand. That fucking psychopath marking me; before that is the last time I can remember feeling normal. Like goddamn fucking cattle, that sonofabitch."

He was silent for a long moment, contemplating his coffee mug. It held no answers.

"After that, shit, everything went down the toilet. Fucking Callenstrom was bringing trouble down on herself and everybody around her right and left, Gregor was gone, and a few months after I got dropped from the Pilot AIT cause of this fucking g-intolerance. Christ, I could outfly any of those pissants, then and now. I was the best they had, and instead of putting me where I belong they stick me in this shithole Scorpion Quad learning to be fucking gestapo."

He was shaking his head. "It ain't me. I wasn't meant for this stuff. I ain't the type for sneakin' around and shootin' people from way off. That's part of why I liked flying; in the cockpit you see your enemy, and he sees you, and it's the better pilot that wins. I ain't cut out for spying. That fucking Gabriel bitch, and Solenis too, they're perfect; cheating goddamn spies to the core. But not me. Not me."

In all her years of knowing Shimon Rabin, Rox had never witnessed such a confession on his part. Even when they talked, it wasn't talk, not like this. Banter. Teasing. Sometimes, on very, very rare occasions, it was serious. But never like this. Rox didn't know what to say, and in typical untact fashion, she stared at him until she realized that her mouth had fallen open and her eyes were so wide she felt like she had to blink to keep them in.

He finished with a glance, and an inane apology. "Sorry, Roxy. Didn't mean to rant."

"No, it's..." she managed to close her mouth, and regarded him a little more closely. Part of her felt bad, on some level, for having missed all these problems with him. She took good care of her boys-- helped them keep their grades up, found them jobs, protected them-- but Rabin had been as close to an equal as Rox had ever had. Excluding Dominic, of course, but this was a different sort of equal. Guilt she never knew she was capable of feeling gave her a little kick in the ass, and she reached out to pat his hand in a clumsy display of comraderie.

She was right. Shit, did he think he was the only person here that had problems? The whole dame school was a mass of them. Everybody had problems. Rabin, Rox, Wick, Jor, Riya; hell, even Gabriel and Solenis. All he did was add to it. He was miserable, so he made other people miserable. That wasn't the way things should be.

"Goddamn right. You're absolutely goddamn right, Rox. Fuck, here I am feelin' sorry for myself and whining like a bitch, and not doin' nothing about it."

What could he do? What could he solve? Wick was Wick, and she wasn't likely to change; in any case, she wasn't his problem anymore, not since his transfer to Scorpion six months prior. Gregor was gone, gradutated; Rabin might see him again someday, but not anytime soon. And as for the Pilot AIT . . .

Don't be a dumbfuck, Shimon. They can't let you fly if you can't take the gees. It's that simple. They don't got a choice. And neither do you. You ain't gonna get over it; flying just ain't in your future. Deal with it.

Alright then. So what could he do?

Well, for one thing, he was going to get rid of those jackasses he hung out with. Snakes and jackals, all of them; Rabin had always known it. He just didn't want to be alone. That was the worst; not having anybody to talk to, to joke with, to be watching your back for you. But Rabin didn't need those bastards. They were the kind of guys he despised.

Rox was a good friend, but not a Scorpion, so there just wasn't time for much but hanging out on days off like this. As for Scorpion itself, Rabin didn't see too many prospects there. None in the older group; aside from the three "friends" of his staying for their final semester, there was only one other boy who was boring as all hell. The only one even remotely entertaining was Jackson; the kid was a flake, and Rabin had no idea how he'd gotten into the program in the first place, but he was funny at least. The others were goddamn boring.

And Cell D? Gabriel, Solenis, Minerva, and Riya. Like fucking hell.

But shit, that left nobody.

He looked at D again. Minerva he knew from Hydra, but not well; she'd never struck him as much fun, or at least, not his kind of fun. Riya, hell no. That was that. As for Gabriel and Solenis . . .

Rabin wondered what it was, exactly, that he didn't like about those two. He supposed it was the way they seemed separate from the group, no matter how large or small; they seemed to consider themselves their own group. Like nobody else had anything worthwhile, like they didn't need anybody's help, they'd do it themselved just fine. Like they were better than everybody else.

Rabin remembered that first day in Scorpion.

That day, Gabriel had been better.

Oooh, that made Rabin's blood boil to admit that. But he knew it was true, and he'd known it then. Gabriel was better, because the game was out-thinking your opponent, out-cheating your opponent. Gabriel was a cheater, Rabin wasn't ever going to relinquish that; but this was a program where cheating was the name of the game. That was what intel was about; cheating your opponents, getting a look at their cards while keeping yours hidden.

And Rabin would never finish this program if he didn't learn to do that. He had to learn how to cheat.

He couldn't be friends with Gabriel or Solenis; he had his pride. And he couldn't ever ask them to help him learn. But they could teach him without knowing it. He would watch, and learn. And even though they wouldn't know it, he would be looking out for them, too. He'd been an ass, and he knew it; he would never apologize, but he'd make up for it, someday.

Someday. Shit. Riya was trying to get them hurt, and he was here talking about "someday". Someday like now.

He looked to Rox again, broken out of his reverie. "Fuck, I gotta go, somethin' bad might happen and I gotta stop it. Thanks, Rox. I'll see ya around, yeah? We'll find somethin' to do with those gas grenades."

Dal was the first to remember. He was there, two years ago, even if it was only for a short while. Some things started coming back. "I...am not sure," he sad at last, smiling. It was good, to break from the official "formality" with Rick - and good to get rid of the hostility with the other kids of Command School. He already had a sense of how it was going to be. Last time he was here... he hardly ever noticed the place, nor the people. He noticed Mik - he hadn't much of a choice about that. But not anyone else... This time was different. This time will be different.

Jab on the other hand, was still confused. Only reaching Command School for the first time aged 18, things were just.. too different for him. He was on Ground School... never really realised why he was seperated from the rest of the kids in the programme. He was supposed to be valueble, no? He was brought back after being iced in Battle School - but Command School isn't Battle School, he had to remind himself. So, he looked back at Rick, wondering how much time the kid was there.