Torn sat in one of the booths at the far end of the bar. People were celebrating, proud of their victory over the Metal Heads, and more importantly, the Baron. They weren't thinking of tomorrow. They were only thinking of right now and how they had somehow, against impossible odds, accomplished their goal.
They weren't thinking about all the casualties. All the men that had sacrificed themselves so the city could live free from a tyrant and a pressing enemy species.
Torn knew every one of their faces, every one of their names. And he would never forget them. People who had given everything they had to a dream. This movement would be nowhere without them and he was determined to never let people forget it.
For right now though, he could let them celebrate. And though he'd never bring it up on his own, he would always remember.
He acted like a hard-ass, sure, but he cared--not that he'd ever admit it. These men and women mattered to him. And that was why he could let them enjoy th