The day came and went. Because most of the planned operations were at night, Tivon had them all on a reverse sleep schedule. Rest during the day, work at night. Marcellus had picked a spot right below the entrance catwalk. He had awoken early. Dreams were never something that came kindly to him to begin with. Add in some war memories and a few choice personal memories and it was a recipe for insomnia.

He had fallen asleep in a slightly reclining sitting position. His hammer still lay against his shoulder. He had long since adopted this sleeping habit during his time in the military. It allowed him to get up at a moment’s notice weapon in hand. Old habits die hard, as they say. And he saw no reason to break with tradition now.

Pandiculating and helping himself to a wide mouthed yawn, he roused himself to wakefulness. In one swift motion he swung himself up and standing. Marcellus felt a little stiff in his right shoulder. Normally he would not feel this stiff after a mission. Perhaps the gliding was more than he was used to.

He went to sling his hammer but hesitated for a moment. He looked around and noticed how quiet it still was. The moment of hesitation passed and he slung his hammer.

Safety is momentary, Marcellus thought.

Walking softly he examined the tables at the center of the bunker. Photos of reactors, trains, guards, official’s buildings, and - even more interestingly – the main tower

What are they planning? Marcellus thought as he shuffled some of the pictures.

The sound of rapid clicking and tapping came from the direction of the computer hive. Looking over and through some shelving he saw Declan working away at the numerous keyboards and at least one holo-board that lay in front of him. Curiosity was not normally one of his traits – it more often than not got you in trouble if not killed – but if this had something to do with the next job he figured it wouldn’t hurt this time.

“Have you even slept?” Marcellus asked walking up to Declan and leaning against a desk adjacent to the cat that he believed he was not utilizing.

“Oh- hey, hi, you’re awake. Um… no.” Declan quickly stammered. His eyes were beginning to become bloodshot and were already drooping.

Marcellus looked the young cat over. He couldn’t be more than a few years younger than him at most but he still had the physique and demeanor of a teenager at most. This made placing his age rather difficult. Marcellus being the straight forward person that he was did not bother with social graces. “Kid, how old are you? Aren’t you a little young to be doing all this? Fighting?”

A furious blush rose to Declan’s face that was clear even through the cat’s orange fur. “Heh, no… no not that young. I’m nineteen. And uh… I don’t fight.”

“Young enough,” Marcellus responded, not being entirely truthful. He himself had signed up with the military the first chance he could at eighteen so he was not really one to judge. Though to be fair, the military had organization and strength in numbers. This kid signed up for all intents and purposes to be an ecoterrorist. “You don’t fight?”

Declan shook his head. His hair blocked his eyes from view as he worked on his computers.

“What do you do then?” Marcellus said as he looked at the array of computers.

Declan kept typing furiously. “Information. Planning. Hacking. I’m usually only on site when the latter is involved, as you saw. Also bomb making when we need it but Erik and Tivon are just as capable. I’m usually there to make sure the yields are just right.”

“Just right?”

“Yea. Part of my planning I take into account exactly how much it would take to destroy our targets. No more, no less.”

Marcellus could get behind that. “Rationing your resources. Smart.”

Declan paused in his typing. “It’s not just that.” He paused for a moment. Marcellus thought he would not continue until he started typing again. “I just don’t want to be responsible to taking lives. So I make sure the yields are just right to minimize any possible collateral damage.”

“You know this is technically referred to as a war, right? In war you have to kill,” Marcellus said coldly.

Declan’s silence was palpable. “Maybe,” Declan said flatly.