All's Well that Ends Well

The call with the brass up top on the way back was gratifying, after everything they had gone through. Spec ops was suspicious to say the least, an unauthorized mission to the middle of nowhere coming back with a war criminal the board had dismissed as missing and or killed was a hard sell for anyone, but Chaplain Henry managed to convince them of the truth when he revealed he had recorded all the conversations the Brigade had had with Doctor Sylvie Rosette.

The revelation that the amoral doctor was still alive came as a surprise to the leadership, but not one they had serious concern over. They promised to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, even already having a lead on the possible identity of Sylvie’s missing daughter.

And, to the surprise of the Brigade, honored Sylvie’s fraudulent promise of an honorary discharge and citizenship within any of the Sanctuary Cities. On the condition of temporary return to duty for any extraordinary missions, of course. Though the Brigade were given the chance to pick their missions, rather than just be given them.

Cato Horst was tried before the Republic’s tribunal and found guilty on all charges Henry listed, as well as a couple more Fred hadn’t heard of. The mad general tried and failed to insist he was unfit to stand trial, but the leadership reasoned that if he knew he wasn’t fit to stand trial, then he actually was intelligent enough to accept the trial’s decision.

At dawn the next day, a firing squad had sent the bastard straight to hell with the rest of his war buddies from the war’s end. Henry had offered the Brigade front row seats to the execution. Fred declined, having found a quaint rambler with a wrap-around deck to relax in the city of Argos to watch the sun rise for the first time in his life without expecting mortar fire to rain down on him.

It was nice.

Sitting in a rocking chair, next to Kaia in hers, hand in hand, he realized just how miraculous this all was. Just when and how did this happen? Fred wondered. He needed to remember the date, this was something to celebrate. Checking his internal chronometer, he saw it was the fourth Mundus of Saphron, the sixty eighth year of the Fifth Age. Definitely a day to remember. A day to praise the Divinity for.

Could this day get any more perfect?

He doubted it.