He didn't understand what was so special about these three - why, even stripped down to their wetsuits, they needed an armed escort. "Blood Sisters" they told him. The best of the Aegis apparently, and the most dangerous. It was a stupid name, and they looked more like entertainment than soldiers to him.

Those had been better times - when the military had stood for something - when soldiers risked their lives for home and country, and women like these were...grateful. But that had been before the Aegis. Now soldiers like him were obsolete, and ones like these three were purpose grown for combat.

Even what they wore was another reminder of where they stood in relation to a baseline like him - state of the art wetsuits, cells filled with non-newtonian goop, while he was stuck with ordinary laminated plating.

They were supposed to have died out. That had been the plan, but they'd all lived well past their expiration dates and the higher ups weren't happy. These transports had been sent to bring them back - usually a hundred to a vehicle, but there were special instructions for these three.

A glorified babysitter. That’s what he'd become.

Relegated to a member of the frustratingly symbolic home guard during the war - now he and eleven other soldiers, were forced to guard the things that had replaced them.

Two of them wouldn’t even look at him.

Rebecca, Catherine and Paige, those were the names he’d been told. All of them Ayin apparently. Whatever that meant.

The one in the middle; Rebecca. She was the one that unnerved him – clicking her fingernails against her bindings and cutting into him with her eyes.