Strength in Secrecy - Braiding Lesson - Chapter 11
Synopsis
After a tragedy rips a young yotul's life apart, a mysterious organization offers him the chance to make sure it never happens again. Thrust into becoming a foot soldier in the never-ending fight against anomalies, Konsa must learn to balance the bizarre threats, his strange new allies, and old scars that refuse to close. Will he be able to find strength in secrecy, or will he die trying?
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Our favourite dogthing nerd is allowed time to yap. As always, thanks to u/RiftZombY, u/Inside_Judge5855, and of course, u/SpacePaladin15.
Character list is at the bottom, as usual.
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Neural Debrief Subject: Konsa, Yotul Vacant, LATF Skalga
Date [standardized human time]: May 28th, 2155
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My paws flow through Reqi’s hair, pulling it all into place as I go through the motions.
She’s soft…this feels so weird.
“So, Spots, what do you want me to do with it?” I ask her, lifting the hair from in front of her eye and looking at her in the mirror.
Simultaneously, the spectre meets my gaze.
Ignore her, Konsa. She’s minding her business.
“You’re calling me that too, now?” she responds, glancing up at me.
“Yeah, I like nicknames. Calling you Reqi all the time feels really formal. Now, answer the question.”
She grumbles before readjusting her hair to fall in front of her face again.
“Hm. I don’t think it’d look very good if you went all in, and I probably don’t have enough hair for it anyway,” she says. ”Maybe some small braids down the front like Vahni has? I’ve always thought those were cute.”
I scowl.
“What? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s not that. We don’t really need to be in the bathroom if I’m gonna be facing you the whole time.”
“Maybe you can do some short ones down the back, too? Then we can move once you’re done with those.”
“Works for me,” I say, grabbing a section to work on. “Wanna start with that lesson?”
“Of course!” she exclaims. “First off, Solim had us go over the rankings for agents.”
“That’ll be good to know, I guess.”
“It will, since hopefully we’ll all be at the top,” she says, smiling. “So, firstly, we’ve got recruits.”
“That’s us, I presume.”
“Yeah. Pretty straightforward: we’re still in training, can’t be sent on operations that involve anomalies above a Grade Three, and must be joined by a Specialist on any operations or patrols we’re deployed on.”
“They can deploy us while we’re still recruits?” I ask.
“Yup! He actually explained that at the halfway point of our training, we’ll be going on them whenever they come up. Called it ‘field work,’ and said that it was very important.”
The thought of getting deployed with my friends both scares and excites me. While they’re in danger, it’s what we joined for, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn a little bit more. Hopefully, whoever else we get deployed with is nice as well.
Maybe Ajay will go out with us. Or Richter!
“I could imagine. Anything more about us recruits?”
“No. Next up are Agents. Technically, every single person who works in the LATF, even the research and civilian teams, are Agents. There are varying levels of Agent, going from third to first class,” Reqi explains.
“Like anomalies?”
“Yeah, sorta. The lowest rank is third class, who, as you can expect, make up the vast majority of the Agents and staff. Second class is given once you’ve proven that you’re capable and have been successfully deployed on an operation. Usually, it’s awarded by your squad lead.”
“So Craig would promote us?”
“Yeah. He’s gonna get put through some extra testing and training and will graduate from third to second class immediately upon completing it. You should’ve seen the smug, shit-eating grin on his face when Solim said that.”
“I can picture it pretty clearly, bastard.”
“Exactly. First class is awarded by a director upon distinguished service. According to Solim, it’s up to them to decide what that means, but the most consistent is once you’ve gone on ten operations or secured ten anomalies. Apparently, it’s also really common for entire squads to be promoted at the same time.”
Guess I’ll be stuck at second class, unless I smooth-talk some other director to promote me, because Soap sure won’t.
“What’s next?”
“Specialist. Once you’ve hit first class, you can take an exam. If you pass the exam, you get granted the rank of Specialist.”
“That sounds…too easy.”
“Solim assured us it wasn’t. He said he failed his Specialist exam like three times.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus with everyone. Loril thinks it’s probably some total horseshit.”
“I’d imagine it is.”
“There are also supposedly three internal classes to Specialists, but Solim said that they don’t often matter very much past seeing who can pull rank on whom. And, seeing who gets nominated for Tracker.”
“I assume that’s the big leagues?”
“Yeah. The entire Director’s Council votes on whether the year’s nominees get promoted.”
“How many directors are there, actually? I don’t think that ever got explained to us.”
“Uh, shit, Solim didn’t talk about that,” she says. “But I’ve met most of them. I think. There are five, from what I can tell at least. Directors Solim, Kashva, Abraham, Slimina, and Kate—er, General Director Jensen.”
“Why so many?”
“Each of them does a different job. I shouldn’t really be saying this, given I heard it from them, but Kashva is Science, Abraham is Logistics, and Slimina is Security.”
“I would think that Soap would be the Director of Security.”
“Solim, Konsa, please. But no, he’s the Director of Recovery.”
“Like…recovering from injuries?”
“No, recovering anomalies. At least, that’s what he was able to tell me. I’ve asked a bunch of times, and at this point I can tell when he’s omitting details. There’s definitely something else to that title.”
“Sounds like him.”
“That was more pointed than it needed to be.”
“Ah, whatever. I don’t like him; he doesn’t like me,” I reply flatly. “It is what it is.”
“I’d like you and my Dad to get along.”
“Doesn’t seem to be in the stars, Spots.”
She grumbles again.
“There’s a little bit more. Trackers are the only ones who can get assigned to the Emergency Response Team and lead most of the renowned squads.”
“So Sykes and Vylem are Trackers?”
“Yeah, they would be. Along with that, there’s supposedly some requirement for Trackers that Solim ‘couldn’t elaborate on until we graduated.’ Whatever that means.”
I choose not to say anything about his chronic inability to explain anything completely. Glancing down at my work, I’m surprised, as my natural inclination was far more intricate than she had asked for. The braids didn’t just go down the back of her head; they connected in the middle, melding together into one large, continuous plait.
Damn, didn’t know I could impress myself.
“Anything else from that one, Reqi?”
“No, that’s all you really need to know about the ranking structure. Next is…anomalous people, I think. Am I fine to start?”
“Go ahead. We’ll move after this, because I’ll almost certainly be done by the time you are.”
“Sounds good. Anomalies that manifest in people are far less consistent than those of normal anomalous objects,” she starts. “Namely, because they can be basically anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, an anomaly is formed by a bunch of people thinking and believing in the same thing, right?”
“Yeah…”
“When anomalies appear in people, they are completely random. Usually, they line up vaguely with a person’s personality, but sometimes they can go wild.”
“Is that not a problem? I mean, it seems like we have a hard enough time with normal anomalies.”
“It is, but the benefit is that anomalous people, once contacted, are usually pretty easy to contain.”
“We contain them?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s kinda fucked up if you think about it too hard…”
“Go on.”
“Okay, so, when an anomalous person is found, the LATF will set out to collect them. Usually, that means dispatching a team of friendlier operatives, who will contact them and explain the situation. Explaining that their separation from usual society is for the safety of themselves and others is often all it takes.”
“What if someone doesn’t want to go? Or if whatever anomaly they have is so hard to notice that it’ll never come up in daily life?” I ask, a startling realization slowly bubbling up into my head.
“If they’re dangerous, as in their anomaly is obvious or could cause serious harm to others mentally or otherwise, they don’t get a choice. For very concealed anomalies, they can often live normal lives, besides the pretty much constant contact with us.”
“So you just have to live life with a camera pointed at your back all the time?”
“Yeah, basically.”
“Do the ones that accept containment just get locked up?”
“No, actually!” Reqi says excitedly. “Our bases hold tons of them and their families. Not LATF Skalga or HQ, as those are way too important to standard operations, but a lot of the smaller area bases. They sometimes have whole communities built around them.”
“Do they have decent accommodations?”
“Yeah, actually…they aren’t the most impressive, but they’re cozy, and you don’t have to deal with paying for your housing or food. Actually, a lot of the civilian staff for those sites comes from said anomalous people.”
“I assume you know from experience?”
“Yeah, I lived in one of those towns up until last week. We had a beautiful community garden, and we kept actual chickens!” she exclaims. “Honestly, I kinda miss it.”
Given the frantic wagging of her tail and the warm grin on her face, she’s being genuine. It doesn’t help ease my worry, however.
“Reqi…am I gonna be stuck here?”
She narrows her eyes as she looks at me through the mirror.
“I…I guess? Honestly, I don’t know what they would do with Vacants if they didn’t want to be contained. I mean, you don’t really risk revealing anomalies to anyone, since you just make them stop working…but you’re also very important to keep around.”
My ears droop, and my paws pause their well-practiced movements.
I…I suppose it isn’t the worst outcome.
“Yeah…sorry, killed the mood.”
“No, it’s fine, Konsa. That sorta worry makes sense.”
“We should get on with the actual lesson.”
Her shoulders tighten briefly before she relaxes them, sighing.
“Okay. There are four classifications: active, passive, visual, and harmful. You just kinda mix and match until you’ve got a basic idea at a glance of what to expect. My strength and all that would make mine, if I can remember correctly, a passive-harmful anomaly.”
“Your strength is harmful?”
“Well, it’s mostly judged on whether it can be used to hurt people or not. If it can, it’s harmful. Even if the only harm is to the anomaly themself.”
“Shit, that sucks.”
“Yeah, just a little,” she says. “It only gets used on my entry, though, so it’s fine. I rarely even have to think about it.”
“Still, getting labelled like that is no fun.”
“It isn’t, but you get used to it here. Anyway, there isn’t that much more to them that can be explained, since you need particular examples. Any questions?”
“Uh, yeah, actually…do I nullify your anomaly when I touch you?”
Her face goes blue, and she clears her throat.
“Um…yes, you do.”
“What part do I actually nullify, because you were still really strong when you nearly broke my paw?”
“I…okay, this’ll be kinda hard to explain, Konsa. I’m sure you’ve noticed my…well, slightly weird response to stimuli.”
“Yeah, it’s like you lag. Your reaction is always behind the pain or whatever by about a second.”
“Right…why do you think that is?”
I mull over the options for a moment. Past some crazy theories, like her body naturally producing heroin, only one sticks out to me. One I’d been thinking about since her burn.
“You can’t feel pain?”
“Almost right. I can’t feel anything.”
I stare at her.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Pain, temperature, and even general touch. Any stimuli that my body isn’t producing on its own, without my involvement, are numb. A good example that just sucks is cramps from my cycle. I could get shot and not feel anything, but my body tries to convince me to get pregnant through repeatedly punching me in the uterus, and I can feel every second of it.”
“I can hardly imagine how much that sucks.”
“It’s worse since I don’t really have the chance to build up my resistance to the pain, so for a little while every month I’m just floored by it. At least, if I don’t have my suppressants.”
“And I nullify that lack of feeling?”
“Yeah, you do. The first time I touched you on the train, I could suddenly feel everything. It was…well, it was kinda overwhelming, I’m not going to lie to you. It was wonderful too, though.”
“Ralchi’s…that explains so much. So that’s why you’re so physical with me?”
“Yeah, basically. I mean, you’re also just nice to hold onto. You make me feel weirdly secure.”
“Just the Konsa difference, I suppose,” I say, finishing up with the plait. “Done back here. Wanna see before we head into the other room?”
“Sure.”
I walk over to the cabinet, weakly smiling at the apparition, who returns the gesture, and grab a hand mirror. Heading back over to Reqi, I hold it behind her head. The look on her face is one of astonishment.
“Holy shit, Konsa, that looks great!”
“Really? I think it’s alright.”
“No, it’s really good! Your sister would have been proud.”
In the corner of my eye, I see the apparition nod. Taking that as a sign, I smile at my friend.
“Well, I’m glad you like it, Spots. Ready to move out?”
“Oh, you know it,” she says, standing from her chair.
The two of us meander into the main barracks, but not before one final nod to our spectral spectator. She vanishes, but the smile on her face before she did is oddly comforting, like I did a good thing.
Reqi sits on a bunk, and I take the chair she had used previously. The strong overhead lights were more than adequate for my plan, but before I started, I had to grab something.
“Sorry, one moment, Reqi.”
“Uh, alright?” she replies, tilting her head.
I stand and make my way to my backpack, delving through its hardly organized contents, searching for something very special. When I feel the cold silver on my paw, I know I have it. I walk back over and keep it concealed in my palm.
“What did you grab?” Reqi asks.
“A present. Don’t worry, you’ll like it. Gonna keep it a secret for now, though.”
“Uh, okay. Should I start?”
“Yup,” I say, grabbing a lock of her fur and beginning on the tight spiral next to her bangs.
“Okay, so remember how Solim told you that your interest in mythology would be helpful?”
“Yeah, I still doubt it, though.”
“Well, don’t. The last type of anomaly is called a Saga. They’re characterized by one major trait. They inspire myths.”
My neurons activate as countless little mythological objects flood into my mind, and a big smile crosses my face.
“Wait, for real?”
“For real,” she replies, matching my smile.
“Okay, hang on. So stuff like Excalibur, or Hrunting, or Aegis, or the Sacred Treasures are real?”
“Don’t know some of those, but if you’re asking, then probably.”
“I would imagine it’s only human myths, like normal anomalies.”
“No, actually, that’s something that every sapient species has had to deal with. And it’s not just objects, either. Mythological people, monsters, and even gods are usually based on Sagas as well. Or, well, some of them, on the god front. Mostly people who were already heroes in their myths, and got deified.”
“Wait, so I could potentially meet some like Herakles or Kivo?”
“Maybe…wait, who’s Kivo?”
“Obscure mythological hero from Leirn. He was the one to whom Ralchi first delivered his flames, and Kivo led the original yotul tribes. When he died, they split up, leaving the nations of Leirn.”
“Oh, well, maybe! It’s kinda a shame, because most of the Federation got their cultures so mangled that they don’t really remember their myths.”
“They can reclaim them, though, and that’s what matters. Continue with Sagas, this is very interesting.”
“Sure thing. There are five classifications for them, and you need to pick one of the first set and a clarifier from the second set. The first set is: Solus and Progenitor. They signify if the Saga has its effects contained solely within itself, or if it creates new anomalies as part of its effect.”
“Sagas can create anomalies?”
“Yes, yes, they can. It’s just as bad as you would think.”
“I’d rather not have to deal with that.”
“No one wants to, but there are a lot of Progenitors. Anywho, the second set are simpler: Hero, Monster, or Object. Monster just means cryptid, usually.”
“So what, is something like Bigfoot real?”
“Oh yeah, super real. That was actually Solim’s example, alongside these things he called ‘rock mimics.’ Sagas always put off inordinate amounts of noospheric energy into the surrounding area, and it’s actually the reason why bigfoot footage, along with most other cryptids, is so blurry.”
“That…that doesn’t sound true.”
“But it is! And that isn’t the only thing about Sagas that sounds like bullshit. Our helmets, which we haven’t had the chance to try out yet, sadly, have protections against noospheric energy built in. Wanna guess what they use?”
“You’re about to tell me it’s something stupid like tin foil.”
Judging by the big smile on her face and her very shifty eyes, I’m right.
“There’s no way.”
“Tin foil hats protect you from noosphere energy! The stuff in our helmets is more sophisticated, but tin foil works more than well enough to get the job done.”
“Did crazy people on the internet just happen upon that answer randomly?”
“No, actually. It was planted there by LATF agents to keep the crazy conspiracy nuts from dying out in the woods because they suffered an aneurysm. It’s for the protection of the people who might actually search for stuff.”
“That sounds way too convenient not to be true…” I say, rubbing the bridge of my snout. “So the clearest footage of cryptids is actually the fakest?”
“Yeah, usually. Solim said the LATF has specialized cameras that can take clear pictures of them, but they’re horribly expensive and fragile, so they don’t get used often.”
“Funny,” I say offhandedly. “What about Saga heroes? Are they just immortal?”
“No, actually. The anomaly takes hosts. Usually, the myth is based on an original host, and then its essence is passed down to different people throughout the ages. As you said, people like Hercules.”
“Herakles.”
“Yeah, whatever. There are a bunch of them that work in the LATF, although we aren’t supposed to out their identities unless they want that knowledge to be spread among us.”
“That, at least, is fair. Can’t just drop something like that without their consent.”
“We did get told, though, that at least one of them is Odysseus.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed and mouth agape.
“You’re joking.”
“Nope, he’s the only one that Solim felt comfortable mentioning. Apparently, it’s an open secret.”
“I need to meet him. That would be so fucking cool!”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get to. He’s around here pretty frequently, from what Solim said,” she explains, smiling.
The excitement on my face must have been palpable, probably for the first time since I arrived on base. Well, besides my fights with Richter.
“There’s a bit more about Sagas, if you think you can contain yourself for a while,” Reqi says, smirking.
“I can, I can.”
“Good,” she says, adjusting her glasses. “Saga’s didn’t form like normal anomalies. Instead of being formed by sapient belief, they existed prior to it from what the LATF can tell.”
“They were around before sapience?”
“Yeah, from the looks of it. Although it’s unclear if they only manifested the first time that sapience occurred. Even though they weren’t made by it, they can still be shaped by it. Their effects don’t change, so speculation is fine, but their appearance does. Say…uh…what’s a good example of a myth thing that changes all the time?”
“Excalibur is easy.”
“Excalibur. The way that most people picture it is what it’s going to look like.”
“So…it’ll probably look like the version from that movie the humans made like thirty years ago? With weird holes in the blade and stuff?”
“Uh, maybe. Solim didn’t explain how that works very well, although he said that it was because they don’t exactly know yet either. The jury is out on whether it’s always changing or if the most popular depiction throughout history is what it looks like. It could just be a really cool-looking sword for all they know.”
“So they don’t have Excalibur?”
“Nope. They have several Sagas, but Solim said he couldn’t tell us which.”
“Why, because we’ll want to see them?”
“Yes, actually. Sagas are super dangerous to be around if you don’t mesh with their personality. If you do, though, you can safely use them.”
“So what you’re saying is that I could potentially pick up Excalibur and just use it?”
“If you’ve got a regal enough personality, I guess, which…” she says, eying me up, “I kinda doubt is the case.”
“You don’t think I’m regal?”
“No, you’re…I mean, to be honest, Konsa, you come off as a peasant.”
My eyes widen as I meet her gaze, a smug grin spreading across her face again.
“You are so mean to me.”
“You like getting bullied, don’t you?” she asks, sticking her tongue out at me.
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do as long as it’s harmless.’
“And what makes you say that?”
“You’re smiling.”
Fuck.
“Y’know, Konsa, for how good you are at reading people, you do a terrible job at hiding your own emotions.”
If only you knew.
“I mean, I don’t really need to. Besides, it’s good for throwing feints.”
“That seems counterintuitive.”
“That’s because I’m making it up.”
She scowls.
“Mean.”
“Turnaround is fair play, Spots.”
“Whatever,” she huffs, before a wave of realization hits her. “Oh, I forgot something with the whole rank lesson.”
“Yeah?” I say, almost getting to the end of her front braid.
“Y’know our uniforms? The uncomfortable cloth ones?”
“Yeah…what about them?”
“We don’t actually wear those when we’re deployed.”
My braiding halts as I look her in the eyes.
“Huh?”
“So, Loril asked if we, and I quote, ‘have to wear the ugly blue outfits or the cute suits that make our butts look nice?’ Solim looked at her funny and asked her what she meant, ‘Of course we wear the bodygloves.’ Then he explained that the uniforms, the blue ones, are for recruits only, to signify what rank we are easily and to let us get used to how…revealing, the bodygloves are. It’s a human thing, obviously.”
“I mean, mine takes some adjusting to be any kind of modest,” I say, tugging on the arm of my bodyglove.
The fight from the farsul to not look down is painfully obvious.
“Hey, eyes are up here, Spots.”
“Y-yeah. That sucks, right?”
“Oh, it does. Is yours not bad as well? I assume the girls have similar problems.”
“Uh, not really. I mean, they need to be moved around, sure, but the issues aren’t as…visible.”
“Judging by the stares you get, I kinda doubt that.”
“I get stared at?” she asks, looking surprised.
“I mean, yeah? Have you not noticed?”
She blushes hard again, and if not for the fact that I’m holding her hair, she probably would have turned her face away.
“I…no, I didn’t. Who has it been?”
“You’ve had heads turning every so often from a bunch of different people in the halls. If the blue uniforms are anything to go by, then a lot of recruits. I imagine Soa—Director Solim wouldn’t be too happy with his more experienced agents if they started ogling his daughter, so they’ve probably got more restraint.”
“Very few people know about our relationship. Both of his not-technically-adopted children are shy, and I’m far shyer than even Nahvin.”
“You didn’t seem very shy when we met?”
“There’s a point when you realize that being shy is only going to end in you having a panic attack and that having someone to talk to will help with that.”
I blink at her a few times.
“Ah.”
“You’re a very good emotional support yotul, Konsa.”
“My sister used to call me her emotional support brother.”
“Seems like your sister was a smart girl.”
“That she was, that she was…speaking of Tessa, though…” I mumble as I prepare to put the finishing touch on her braid.
Slipping the small, silver bead over the end of the central plait, I tie it off and pull my paws away, reaching for the mirror behind me and holding it up to show her. While her excitement is clear from the get-go, it takes a moment for the farsul to notice the surprise.
“Wait…was the bead hers?”
“Yeah, it was,” I reply, passing her the mirror so she can get a closer look. “I’ve held onto it as a keepsake, but I feel like seeing you use it would make her happy…well, and make me happy too. You’re a good friend, and I know that Tess would love you.”
Reqi doesn’t say a word, only letting out a small, quiet whimper as the tears begin rolling down her face, and she pulls me into a tight embrace. I hug her back, letting the warmth engulf me, before I feel her snout move up to my ear.
“Thank you, Konsa…I love it,” she whispers.
There’s no need to respond.
When she eventually pulls away, wiping the tears from her eyes, her breath hitches as she laughs.
“I didn’t expect to cry because you braided my hair.”
“Well, guess you caught some of my emotion,” I reply, rubbing the back of my head. “I’m more surprised I didn’t cry.”
“Maybe my presence is just that comforting?”
“Maybe…I think that it just felt…normal. Like I was back home before this all started. You’re nothing like Tessa, really, no matter how many comparisons I make between you two. But...I guess there is some sense of comfort around you.”
She smiles warmly, reaching up to feel the bead.
“Well, I’m glad to provide that, Konsa. Having friends is nice.”
She is about to get up as she slaps herself in the forehead.
“Oh, duh, didn’t finish the whole suit talk,” she exclaims, sitting back down. “Just a little more, Konsa.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, so we will be wearing basically only the body glove or civilian clothes alongside it around base. When we’re deployed, though, we have a full rig to wear. Have you seen anyone wearing those big transparent blue ponchos? And the orange belts and stuff?”
Sykes’ and Vylem’s uniforms, despite seeing them so long ago, are still burned into my mind, and I flick my ear affirmatively.
“The base layer is the bodyglove, alongside boots, gloves, and tail covers if you need one. It’s cut-resistant, keeps you warm, can stabilize broken bones, and can stop major bleeding by cutting off circulation to your limbs. Then, over top of that, you have your harnesses and webbing. The orange belts and stuff, which hold your gun, your knife, and any other random pocket or pouch you need. They wrap around the waist, over the shoulders, and then around each thigh. Although they’re kinda tight.”
“Think the person who designed the uniforms was going for sex appeal?”
“Maybe…I mean, I’m not really complaining, as long as it works,” she replies.
“Fair enough,” I say before tilting my head. “Wait, how do you know they’re tight?”
“Oh, we had an agent come in and show off her rig. This short, strong-looking venlil lady. She was kinda spooky, actually. Looked like she could kick our asses no problem.”
“Sounds like I would’ve liked her.”
“You probably would. Anyway, next up is the armour. We’ve got fitted plates that go over our arms and legs, leaving a bunch of space for our joints, as well as a big chest plate. It’s got groin protection too.”
“Anything on the back?”
“Uh, yeah. On the back side of the chest plate, at least. Nothing on the backside of the hips, or on your butt. Your back is kinda exposed, now that I think about it.”
“I mean, is the armour bulletproof?”
“Supposedly, yeah.”
“Well, it’s not supposed to make you impervious to bullets, then. It’s supposed to take a couple and keep you alive and fighting. I bet their goal is mobility over protection.”
She scratches her chin and leans back, supporting herself with her paws.
“Makes more sense than my theory.”
“And what would that be?”
“That they wanted to stare at our butts.”
“Both can be true.”
She giggles and leans forward again.
“Last up is the poncho. Blue and made of a similar, but way stiffer, version of the bodyglove fabric. It’s even more protective, too, and the venlil tracker said that she’s caught bullets in it before. Still cracked her shoulder, but kept her from losing it.”
“That’s pretty good for a big piece of cloth.”
“I’d say so,” she replies, shifting and sitting cross-legged on the bed. “That’s it, though. At least, that’s everything you missed, condensed.”
“Nothing you’re neglecting to tell me that’ll get me killed during our field work?”
“Not that I can think of.”
"Thank you kindly for the synopsis, Spots."
I move from the chair to my bed, flopping backwards onto it and sinking into the stiff, comforting mattress. I’m surprised, however, as Reqi moves over as well, sitting to the right of me.
“What’s up?” I ask, looking up at her.
Reqi averts her eyes as her tail starts wagging.
“I…I wanted to try having a nap.”
“Yeah? What does sitting next to me have to do with that?”
“Uh…I was wondering if I could share your bed while I try.”
I stare at her.
“You what?”
“I think, or Solim thinks, I mean…” she tries, tripping over her words before she takes a deep breath. “We think that my anomaly is partially to blame for my nightmares. The other part of it…it might be helped by just having someone warm to hold on to.”
I continue to stare at her. She slowly transitions from a soft blush to a deep blue hue piercing through her fur. After it all, though, she sighs and stands.
“Sorry…it was stupid to ask. Fuck, I’m so—”
I strike, sitting up and grabbing her around the waist, despite protests from my chest, and pull her back onto the bed.
“Eep!” she squeaks.
“Don’t start with any of that self-deprecating predshit, Spots,” I say, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m your friend, and I’ve got nothing else going on, so why not? Plus, I’m kinda tired myself.”
Her heart’s beating really fast. Mission accomplished.
The noises Reqi makes are indescribable as I scoot into the optimal napping position. She follows shortly after, snuggling up against me as I wrap my arm under her shoulder again. She shifts, resting her paw on my chest and burying her snout into my neck. Her tail gently wags as she stares forward, seemingly intent on not looking at me.
“Thank you, Konsa…” she whispers.
“Of course,” I reply. “Have a good rest, Spots.”
As I lay there with her, it doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep. Soft, whistling breaths are all I can hear from her, and the equally soft rise and fall of her chest is adorable. Not to mention just how warm she is. As I begin to doze off, the tail-wagging, heated blanket on my right side trying desperately to drag me into the world of dreams, I’m brought back from the verge of consciousness by a very distinct Australian twang.
“Oh, this is gold,” says Craig as he pulls his holopad from his pocket.
I don’t say anything to him, but I wave and bring a finger to my lips. Luckily, he seems to get my meaning and mimics the gesture to what I can only assume is the rest of our squad behind him. As they walk in, Loril’s reaction is the strongest, as she bleats in surprise. Kenra thankfully gives her a smack on the back of the head, which seems to remind her to keep her voice down. While the thought of voices, and potentially photos, puts me off, Reqi looks so…peaceful. Without much hesitation, my eyes become heavy, and I drift into a cozy slumber alongside my friend.
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Standardized Earth Time: July 3rd, 2155, five weeks from last file.
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“Y’know, being horny isn’t a personality trait,” I say to Loril as we cool down from our last drill, taking a much-needed breather.
“It is, actually, but I get your point. Not sure why you’ve started caring recently, though,” she replies.
“I’ve just noticed the sheer amount of partners you’ve had while we’ve been here.”
“How do you know about that?” she asked, ears blooming.
“Hard not to when I hear you sneaking back into the barracks,” I respond, taking a sip of water. “Or when you’re bragging about it with Kenra.”
“You little eavesdropper.”
“Can’t really call me that when you two don’t even try to keep quiet.”
Loril punches me in the shoulder, and although there’s a slight twinge in the recently healed scar, I’m happy that it doesn’t feel like it’s going to fall off.
“You’re not going to talk about it,” she hisses.
“I won’t if you give me a number,” I reply, sticking out my tongue.
She gives me a shocked, even appalled look.
“Y-you’re joking, right?”
“Nope.”
“What would you even do with that info?”
“Mm, blackmail?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Tell me,” I plead, putting on my best begging face. “I wanna know, Lori.”
She stares at me, eyes wide, before averting her gaze.
“F-four…”
I laugh and wrap my arm around her, pulling her into a hug. One that she doesn’t appreciate, given the grumbling.
“Ah, just a bunch of repeat customers?”
I deserve the punch in the back of the head wholeheartedly, but it’s worth it just to see the look on her face. Surprisingly, Loril giggles.
“You’re so lucky that you’re cute, Konsa,” she says.
“That’s what they all say,” I reply, letting go of her and taking a step forward. “They’ll be waiting to congratulate us. Let’s head back.”
We start our walk around the assault course, idly chatting as we pass by the shot-through and cracked targets, until we finally see the rest of our squad.
What are they all standing there for?
All four of them stand huddled together, their body language anything but relaxed, and look at me nervously as we approach.
“How was our time?” Loril asks, paws on her hips as she proudly walks up to them.
When they don’t respond, but just stare at each other. Loril notices, tilting her head and eying them up.
“Was our time really that bad? I thought we did pretty well.”
“Loril…” I say, which prompts her to look at me as I shift my gaze to our comrades. “What’s wrong, guys?”
Wordlessly, they glance at one another before Jalu nods and walks over. Their movements are measured…unsure, as they gently hold their pad. Its light illuminates their beak, and while it seems normal…I can’t help but feel a sense of inexplicable dread.
“J-Jalu?”
They present the pad to me, which I accept. Steeling myself for a brief moment, although I’m unsure why, I glance down at the screen. It’s a news article. My heart sinks as I read the headline over.
And over.
And over.
AND OVER.
I hardly even notice the tears running down my snout.
T-they didn’t tell me? T-those…those fucking monsters!
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