“Just so I have this straight, we just supposed to yankadi in, do some air and earth sampling, and check out the architecture. Figure out what sort of culture would design a city that way.” Robin stroked her chin. She studied every data point with her large, fearless eyes. “Cultural reconnaissance only?”

“Yes.” Fela didn’t bother to paint a prettier picture for them.

“Shit.” Anitra’s pronunciation had a way of breaking the word into two syllables. “We’re not anthropologists or any other kind of scientist. We’re gbeto.”

“We have no idea what we’ll find. I hate the way Command makes us feel disposable.” Robin scanned about the terrain.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” Fela said. The irony of using weapons, even living ones, to forge peace was a hard conceit at the heart of Muungano. “Gbeto. That’s the job. Going into the unknown, trained to improvise in the moment. A shield ready to defend because that is the human condition.”

Once the fifth wave migration into space began in earnest, with people flocking to Mars and the Dreaming City, religious fundamentalists attempted to seize power on O.E., as if they had waited the entire history of their faiths for this opportunity. Something the First World cofounders saw coming, which was another reason why they began leaving O.E. in the first place. The HOVA regiments were originally established for the defense of the budding First World outpost.

After the Lunar Ukombozi War, the established Muungano community broke free and declared its liberation from O.E., but the outpost maintained the established structure of the HOVA. Most of the foot gbeto in the HOVA unit were of Ugenini origins, always the first to volunteer to defend the idea of Muungano. Almost as if they had something to prove. That was another thing Fela loved about the Ugenini, though frankly, she was troubled that so many of Muungano still defined themselves by those identities. Ugenini, Asili, or Maroon for the sake of claiming authenticity.

“First, all of you have been trained in a variety of fields in your long lives, especially with the amount of downtime between missions.” Fela hoped to be able to lead on the strength of her word alone, but she’d break out chain of command if she had to. “And second, the orders come straight from the R.”

“Damn. Why didn’t you say that from the get?” Anitra waved them forward, her beloved tactical rifle slung across her body, always at the ready. The DMX-3000 had obviously been through some times, but it remained well maintained. “Let’s move out.”