The next day ...
"Who are you?" The young soldier barked at Rebecca. She turned to look at the soldier, who she assumed was the commanding officer. He was in his teens, around her age, with blonde hair and stunning green eyes. His face was very familiar somehow. Very, very, familiar. "Who are you?" He repeated. The two girls looked so familiar to him. They brought him back to his days in the colony; Rebecca, and her sister Rachel. He missed them so much. But these girls couldn't possibly be them. They were older.
"My sister needs a doctor." Rebecca said. James frowned. Definitely not Rachel or Rebecca. This Styx's voice was silky and persuasive; more mature than the twins'. He was completely transfixed by the geometry of her face. The slope of her cheekbones was so steep that it was almost inhuman, but at the same time feminine and bewitching. She blinked, and he looked away, embarrassed. He realized now that he had been checking her out without intending to, and to cover his up this overwhelming sense of embarrassment, he ordered his troops to advance. A streak of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a crashing peal of thunder as the storm raged overhead and the Styx girl took a step back, making a last-ditch attempt to shield her sister from further harm. He kept his pistol trained steadily on her chest, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do. Mixed feelings though he had about killing them in their clearly weakened state, he knew that he had to in order to ensure the safety of himself and his men.
Despite herself and all she had been through in the past few weeks, what she had seen and done to reach this point, Rebecca was broken. She didn't want to fight anymore. For the first time in her life, she didn't have anything witty to say, nothing to combat the anguish and fear bubbling up inside her. She felt a single tear roll down her cheek, indistinguishable from the downpour that was soaking her to the bone. She had come all this way, and for what? Only to be shot in the streets like animals, put down because they had fallen from grace. Her eyes began to well up with tears, and she closed her eyes, defeated. There was nothing she could do. They had come all this way for nothing.
As he continued to advance, James realized that his soldiers were no longer behind him. They had stopped several paces back, staring at something just on the horizon.
Rebecca looked up, and a grin spread across her face. Limiters! "Impeccable timing." she muttered, trying not to laugh as she looked at the dumbfounded New Germanian soldiers. They were standing there, like deer in the headlights, staring at the Limiters. Some of them had massive attack dogs, Stalkers, which were making ungodly noises and struggling against their leashes. But the soldiers weren't looking at the dogs. They were transfixed by the Limiter's death's-head faces, their eyes so dark that they could have been drilled out.
James' eyes widened. Limiters! What were they doing all the way down here? Half of him wanted to shout out in joy; he recognized some of them from his days in the Garrison. Jacob, and his brother Jack. And was that Reggie in the back row? He couldn't tell from this distance. But the other half of him was screaming for him to run. To put as much distance as he could between himself and these brutally efficient soldiers. He chose neither, instead choosing a path that went entirely against his self preservation instincts as the soldiers lined up, their rifles trained on him and his men.
"Tell these men to stand down." He demanded, looking at the girl now standing confidently in front of him.
"Not likely." She said coldly. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. These men are Limiters. And although you and your men might not be able to see them, there are sniper detachments on the rooftops. If you and your men so much as think of firing..." She trailed off, knowing that the threat had had the desired effect. James' hand wavered, and he let it drop to his side, nodding. The Styx valued courage to some degree, but he knew for a fact that they didn't value stupidity. And right now the smart thing to do was surrender. She gave him a fleeting smile, as if glad he had seen sense at last. "I'm going to bring up two men. One's a medic for my sister. She's dying from a stomach wound. This is not an act of aggression, so tell your men to hold their fire." She ordered, as if speaking to one of her own subordinates. He almost smiled. He was alive so far.
Things were looking up.