Part 3: A Friend Amongst Enemies

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Dustan slowly helped Rico up the steps and they walked into the open aired mess hall. Soldiers sat around wooden tables in bamboo seats; singing loudly and with intensity, cheering their friends on as they performed strange food-related dares and acting as if the war was far away, and not all around them.

They were all celebrating as if the war had ended minutes ago, and was not raging on around them.

The new recruits edged nervously around the boisterous solders, sitting at empty tables with friends from training. Even the stuck up and socially capable nobles such as Sheppard were a bit uneasy around so many cheering, singing soldiers of all shapes and ages.

Dustan and Rico hobbled between the tables and eventually found a table in the dark, far corner of the hall. Rico collapsed into one of the seats and Dustan rushed over. Rico waved him of and sat up, still holding a hand to the bleeding forehead.

"Here, let me check that" Dustan said, slowly easing Rico's hand away from the injury.

It certainly didn't look pretty. The brutish Kondu had hit Rico hard. The skin around the injury was already swelling, turning purple and bruised. The wound wasn't deep but it was wide and blood spilled down the side of Rico's face, getting in their hair and eyes, some large pieces of the skin on Rico's forehead had even been torn off.

"I think the guy was wearing a lot of rings" Rico muttered. Gently prodding the wound with a finger.

"You ok" Dustan asked gently. Dustan acted indifferent but he hated it when people around him got hurt. It had happened to often during his life.

"Other than the sore hole in my skull, I think I'm alright!" Rico said brightly, the happy mood returning. Rico's multicoloured eyes focused on something behind him and Dustan slowly turned. A lithe woman stood behind him, carrying two trays of food and medical supplies in her hands.

"Welcome to the camp" She said, little humour or life in her voice. She set down the trays of food in front of them, the substance on them looked somewhat like shredded meat and potatoes, gravy drizzled heavily over everything.

The woman sat down opposite the two recruits and started unpacking the medical kit; Bandages and a bottle of alcohol to kill infection. Without saying anything she began cleaning the damaged tissue of Rico's forehead.

"Uhh... thank you miss?" Rico said, wincing as the alcohol soaked bandage was dabbed against the bleeding wound.

Dustan studied the woman. She was fit and agile looking, with strong muscles and long legs. Her skin was like roasted coffee, indicating that she was from the deserts to the east. Her eyes were a deep green, much like the bright foliage that surrounded them, but her expression was calm and serious, an odd attitude when compared to the jovial celebration around them. Her hair was dark black and choppy, having been roughly cut short with a knife.

The woman wore the standard uniform, exempt the coat was oversized and, much like her hair, had been butchered with a knife, probably so the oversized coat would fit properly. Its colour had been faded and replaced with the stains of dirt and rain and ash. If it weren't for the smoke of the large cooking fires, Dustan felt that the woman before him, and indeed all the soldiers, would have reeked offensively.

All around, the woman would have been flawlessly attractive, were it not for the jagged scar on the left side of her face, which pulled at the skin and contorted her face. It stretched from the corner of her eye all the way down past her mouth, leaving the skin on that side of her face taut and malformed.

The woman continued to clean the wound on Rico's head, before bandaging it slowly. Rico, obviously a bit uncomfortable at being treated by a random stranger, spoke up.

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