Logan was not a big fan of Commander Iris - his counterpart in the Eyes was a woman of legend, but only amongst the ranks. In the general populace, he imagined none had heard of her, as was fitting for her station as one of His Eyes. But the reason for his disdain was not because of her glares, her stares nor her fiercely irking, nasal voice.
She was a conservative - one of the worst he’d ever met. He generally didn’t mind the more traditional train of thought; he subscribed to it himself, in many ways. But when it came to dealing with the Monstrum, the two couldn’t have been more different... the factum she'd turned his most trusted apprentice's life into a living Hell hadn't a thing to do with it - not if he was asked.
Never was this as apparent as when he sat at Mara’s bedside and watched Iris tend to the site of her disarmament.
The cut was clean and Jarek’s improvised tourniquet had been masterfully applied to spare every drop of blood. Mara’s room was much alike that of Jarek’s office, albeit with a warmer and more homely feel to the granite bricks. Jarek paced back and forth on the red carpet, grumbling his constant apologies for his maneuver, well aware that Mara was in no state to listen.
Logan had fed her two pinches of poppy dust, which was usually enough to knock out a man Jarek’s size and half his age, but if anyone needed and deserved it - he imagined it’d be her.
He had his legs crossed on the foot of her bed while Commander Iris tended to her lopped-off arm with rhythmic movements of her fingers - muttering a prayer as she worked. Finally, Logan turned to face the pacing Jarek to say: “I’m surprised. From what you told me about the Eastern Pass, you couldn’t understand my reasoning…” Jarek paused to look at Logan - the regret smeared thick across his half-burnt frown.
Logan went on: “You said I criticized your lack of action. Based on what I saw today, you’ve got a good handle on necessary evils.” Jarek forced his eyes shut, as if hoping they’d broach another topic.
The aged man answered: “I… I’m sorry. I did what I thought was best.” Logan nodded his understanding and confirmed: “It was the best choice. If you hadn’t cut us free, we’d have been dead by now. You have my thanks - and hers.” This did little to appease Jarek. Despite having saved his daughter’s life, he had cut her hand off, let alone done some serious damage to Logan’s hand, but by the looks of his stumps, he’d be just fine.
Commander Iris finally finished her work and joined in on the conversation to scold the two - boring the deep pits of her mask into them one-by-one. “We knew all we needed to. The course is clearly laid out - as soon as the rest arrive, we’re initiating the purge. This was a waste of her appendage.”
Logan attempted to raise a finger in protest, only to realize the futility of it. “You’re wrong. This isn’t just a hive under the town. Wherever that thing’s body is, it’s an old mobile - I’m sure of it. A Gargant? Something capable of psychically interacting with humans - I’ve never heard of it before.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
And there it was - that disapproving glare, those words always at the tip of her tongue. “You should know better than to insult Our Lord’s Gifts and insinuate that the Spawn are capable of using it - I’ve had about enough of your blasphemy! I can see where your apprentice got her foul teachings from... it's a shame I cannot beat yours out of you.” He could feel her rage exude from beneath the porcelain mask as she rose up.
“This one’s clean - the Spawn wouldn’t try to claim her if she had been Tainted. Take her and go - the rest will be purged by the end of the fortnite.” Logan rose after her and met her glare with one of his own.
A bright beam of sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her body - further increasing her holier-than-thou aura, but Logan hadn’t fallen for it before; he would not be falling for it at Mara’s bedside.
“You do that. Kill the Spawn’s food-supply without a plan and see what happens. I’d love to hear how you’d explain that to the Governor or to the Eye-General. ‘The ground just rose up and swallowed the entire sector - Behemoth-Bane tried to warn me, but I had my head too far up my ass to hear him’.” His mockery of her voice did not bemuse her in the slightest. Good - it wasn’t supposed to.
She took a stern step forwards and raised an accusing finger towards her fellow Commander. “You’ve got some nerve, Hand. You’re balancing on the blade’s edge of His Graces - you always have. Your idolization of the Spawn will land you in dangerous territories and one of these days, I’ll see you burn for it. Now… you have your orders. Get. Out.” He briefly pondered discarding her mask, if only to piss her off further - maybe he’d be lucky enough that she’d attempt to strike at him. He’d love the excuse to finally shoot the bitch, but as always, the eyes were more bark than bite. She turned on her heel and departed for the door, slamming it shut behind her.
“What a bitch…” Mara groaned from the bed. Logan was stumped to see her move, let alone talk. She sluggishly rose up, shaking her head back and forth to dispel the disorientation. She raised her left hand to rub it over her face, only to find that it was - naturally - missing.
“Shit, I forgot about that… I’m gonna miss that hand.” She sighed, but seemed oddly at ease with the dismemberment. Logan questioned whether this was a side-effect of the opiates, but he hadn’t seen such a toxicologically inspired calm before.
“Mara, my darling - I’m so sorry!” Jarek said, finally stepping towards her bed to wrap his arms around her. She returned the hug, but smiled to inform: “You saved my ass - what’s sorry about that?” It seemed both were fellow utilitarians - Logan couldn’t improve more of his new colleagues if he tried.
“Dad, stop - we need to talk about what to do next. Dad!” She raised her hand and arm to press her father away and, as he relented, he sighed to look up at Logan with a mournful grimace - seemingly respectful of his daughter’s insistence.
Logan looked to them in turn before stating: “I’m sorry about the hand too, Mara. But we’ll need to do something about that Monstrum or we’ll have more than some lopped-off appendages to worry about.” Thankful he still had his thumb, he reached up to rub his chin in deep musings... he couldn't wait to regrow his fingers again.
“It’s a stretch, but this could be a very old Monstrum. Maybe it consumed one of the villages before the Purge and has laid dormant somewhere around here… I thought it was creep at first, but no - those were offensive weapons, not the kind of organ-like growths you see inside a hive. I’ve pretty much concluded that this isn’t a Mobile Monster being grown - it’s a higher class of Monstrum growing in size… but this isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.” Those dreary words killed the room in an instant. Both Jarek and Mara stared up from the bed and towards their frightening visitor with dread.
“We’re gonna need some help on this one.”