> Hush little baby, don't say a word

> And never mind that noise you heard,

> It's just the beast under your bed

> In your closet, in your head

> Exit light

> Enter night

> Take my hand,

> We're off to Never-Never Land

Metallica - “Enter Sandman”

----------------------------------------

Musashi pressed a glass into the former Khonhim leader’s hands, before pouring one for himself. “I don’t know if your species uses alcohol, but you look like you could use a stiff drink right about now,” he said.

Jiyazh accepted the tumbler of amber-colored liquid, giving it a cautious sniff. After a moment he raised it to his lips, letting the fiery liquor play across his tongue. “My people make something similar,” he said after a moment, as he took a second sip. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Musashi smiled, easing into one of the available chairs. He looked over at Nassat, indicating his glass. The Saurotaur waved him off. “My species lacks your tolerance to ethanol,” he explained.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, as he took another drink. He glanced at Tango, who had made herself comfortable at the table and was now disassembling and cleaning a rather impressive array of weaponry. Her own glass sat untouched at her elbow, as her full attention was currently on the sniper rifle she was administering to.

“Graybird is working on some new modifications to his equipment, as per your suggestions, Jiyazh,” Musashi explained. “We’ll touch bases with him in the morning, and check his progress.”

“And the other one?” Jiyazh asked.

“I told Whisper to go amuse himself somewhere...which means we’ll be hearing from the MP’s,” he sighed. “But he won’t be bothering you anytime soon, if that’s what you’re asking...at least until we prep for our first mission.”

Jiyazh took another long drink, before setting down his glass. “If I told you I was looking forward to it, would you believe me?”

“Not hardly,” Musashi chuckled.

The former Dhyaksh nodded, before turning to Nassat. “When I said I owed you a debt, this is not what I had in mind.”

“I know,” the Saurotaur said. “I am under orders. But as much as it pains me to admit it, Admiral Fujimoto makes an excellent point. Your knowledge and skills could prove valuable.”

“I have no doubt,” Jiyazh said, before turning his attention back to the human. “Just where did you find your…associate?” he asked.

“Whisper was assigned to us, much the way you were,” Musashi replied. “As for his background...I’ve learned not to ask.”

“Why?” Jiyazh inquired.

“Because he’ll tell you,” Musashi said.

“...in detail,” Tango chimed in, not bothering to look up.

Jiyazh shook his head. “And they call my people barbaric.”

“I guess you could say Whisper is a throwback,” Musashi said after a moment, “or perhaps...you could call him a reminder. A living memorial to what we once were.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tango snorted, as she ran a brush down the barrel. “...once?”

“Humans are...complicated,” Nassat explained. “I have witnessed them perform great acts of compassion and sacrifice...and then turn around and commit acts of pure savagery. No one is more aware of this dichotomy than they themselves, and yet...sometimes they do not grasp how they appear to others. Even now, after all these years, I still find myself occasionally uncomfortable in their presence.”

“And me?” he asked, regarding the Saurotaur. “Do I make you uncomfortable as well?”

“Not you personally,” Nassat said after a moment, “but if you are asking about your species, then uncomfortable is not the word I would choose. Something more...visceral, perhaps.”

Jiyazh gazed at him. “You have always been an enigma to me, Nassat,” he informed him. “The pacifistic herbivore who became a warrior...a rather skilled one, in fact.”

“They gave me little choice,” he said quietly.

“That is true enough, I suppose,” the Khonhim admitted. “And yet I have never forgotten how you stayed your hand when you could have struck me down. Especially after you learned my identity...and that I had just attempted to kill you.”

Tango looked up at that, cocking her head as she regarded Nassat, before going back to her cleaning.

“As I explained then...I will always choose life over death,” he answered, growing self-conscious at his words.

“And yet, despite all that,” Jiyazh pressed, “you showed no hesitation in turning me over to them.” The venom in that last word was unmistakable. “Perhaps the time you have spent among humans has made you more like them than you realize.”

Nassat opened his mouth to respond...only to be interrupted by a loud metallic clack. Heads swiveled towards Tango, who had finished reassembling a sleek looking auto pistol, slapping in a fresh magazine with a smirk...and a gleam in her eye more than a bit unsettling. Musashi just sighed, shaking his head, as he took another sip of his drink.

“...if you are suggesting I am not the same person I once was, then the answer is yes,” Nassat replied. “How could I be, given my experiences? But if you are accusing me of something more nefarious, that by following orders I am complicit in a criminal act…” He paused for a moment and then bowed his head. “I can only offer in my defense the advice the human who trained me, and now serves as my aide-de-camp, once gave.”

“And that advice is?” Jiyazh asked.

There was a faraway cast to his eyes, as Nassat lifted his head. “...do what you have to do,” he whispered.

Jiyazh appeared to be unmollified, as Musashi cleared his throat. “General Nassat speaks the truth,” he said quietly. “I won’t apologize for our questioning you. I won’t even apologize for Whisper’s…unique approach. I realize that you are not responsible for the current attacks...but in a very real sense, you bear a certain amount of culpability. If you had not attacked in the last war, we would not be here today.”

“And if General Nassat’s ancestors had not tried to wipe my people from existence, we would not be here either,” Jiyazh shot back. “If you are looking to place blame, I can assure you there is plenty to go around.”

“Isn’t there always,” Musashi said. “But this time...your people have crossed a line. Had they attacked using more conventional means, we would still be outraged...but this...” He shook his head. “Jiyazh, the very nature of these attacks have aroused something in humanity...something dark, and ugly. You thought Whisper was bad? Try picturing a billion Whispers...all coming for you.”

Despite himself, Nassat shuddered. Musashi nodded in understanding. “I was there on Uzaunx, you know,” he continued. “They dropped us in before your forces landed. We watched and recorded every atrocity for weeks until Nassat and his team pulled us out.” The tone of his voice had become unfriendly. “Whatever you may have suffered at our hands, pales compared to that.”

The temperature in the room seemed much cooler, as the gloves came off. Nassat rose to his feet, ready to intercede and stop things from getting any more heated...when they were interrupted by a chime from the console. A press of a button and Admiral Fujimoto’s face appeared.

“We just received word from Marshal Antuma,” she said. “There’s been another attack.”

Nassat closed his eyes. “Where?” he asked.

Her gaze lingered over Jiyazh, before turning back to Nassat. “...Zion,” she said quietly. “We’re projecting casualties of over five hundred million.” Hélène worked her jaw as she stared daggers at the Khonhim.

“Your people just signed their death warrant,” she snarled before the display went blank.