No one was wandering the base casually today. It was nippy as mid-November threatened the first snow of the season. The breeze was made especially bitter for the gray skies depriving the ground of the sun’s heat, and the world felt heavy and sleepy as both wind and cloud bore down upon them. Commander Rapax regretted not wearing a cloak over his uniform as he, Baca, and Arum were among the few braving the chill that afternoon. The commanders walked with purpose to the Lion General’s office.

Knock, knock!

“Come in,” the general ordered, and Rapax wasted little time turning the knob to usher the group inside, quickly shutting the door to leave the cold behind them. “Have a seat, gentlemen,” she said, indicating the chairs in front of her desk. “Forgive me for not getting up to greet you properly.”

“‘Nothing to forgive,” Rapax returned with a crooked smile. “How are you feeling, General?”

“I’m fine.” From behind her desk, the general didn’t look pregnant — her burdened waistline hid behind the heavy wood, but Rapax had seen her walking to her office earlier that morning. Then, her belly had seemed as big as the rest of her, and he knew she was horribly uncomfortable if her once spry gait, now more of a waddle, was any indication. As it was, she was shifting uncomfortably in her seat, her face pinching without any relief to find. “Let’s get to it, gentlemen. What’s your report?”

Commander Arum kicked things off. “Everything is normal with palace security, General.”

“You’ve…” she winced and shifted again, “... talked to all the captains?”

“Yes, General. Their reports are all as boring as you’d hope.”

“And their training?” she probed through a tight breath.

Arum frowned. “I’ve been overseeing their training, keeping it rigorous…. General, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she readily dismissed and did her best to settle. “Keep mixing up their training, Arum. Baca, how is the city’s security?”

“The Astu Centralis precincts have all reported a few incidents of petty crime this week.” Baca shrugged. “I’ve been working with the station captains to train their men to look for early warnings of conspiracies or terrorism, and, obviously, I’ve been making sure they are staying on top of their physical training and sword skills,” Baca reported, and then waited awkwardly while the general breathed through an apparent wave of pain.

“General,” Rapax prompted, “are you–?”

“I’m fine,” she cut him off.

“You don’t seem fine,” Rapax insisted, his scowl hardening. “You’re in obvious pain, and that’s significant when it comes to you.”

“This is normal,” she insisted. “As things get closer, your body is supposed to prepare for delivery, kind of like practice labor.”

“Are you sure you’re not in labor?”

“It’s too early,” she dismissed again, her voice constricting with yet another wave of pain that she had to consciously work through.

“I think we should get Rogue.”

“I’m fine, Rapax. Just deliver your report.”

Doing his best to shrug off what he was seeing in favor of what she was saying, Rapax continued the meeting. “Captain Gravis reports that the palace bodyguards are all in good shape, their training remains aggressive, and he is satisfied with their progress. Captain Indago says the facilities are well stocked, and–” He cut himself off as his friend braced against her desk, her face pinching in a subtle grimace, and Rapax stood up to take a knee next to her. Up close, he could see the sweat beading on her forehead and hear every hiss of her strained breath. “General, how long has your body been ‘practicing’ today?”

“Stop fussing Rapax. Finish your–” She couldn’t even speak through the next wave, and they were coming right on top of each other.

“Nope! I’m calling it, General. Arum, go get her husband.”

“Belay that order,” she rejected as Arum moved to stand. Half-standing, half-sitting, Arum glanced between Rapax and the general, not really sure whose orders to follow. “It’s too early.” And then the general doubled over her desk with a poorly stifled grunt of pain.

“Her husband, Arum! Now!” Rapax ordered much more harshly.

Convinced, Arum left in a rush. Instead of getting upset, General Yudah surrendered, and suddenly she looked exhausted. She submitted to the next wave, groaning helplessly as her body buckled from the strain.

“Primordials, she’s already pushing,” Baca gasped, and Rapax’s head snapped in his direction.

“What do you mean, she’s pushing?!”

“I mean she’s pushing!” Baca shouted, hastily standing up.

“How can you tell?!”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?!”

Normally calm and collected, Rapax turned back to see his commanding officer straining, her white-knuckled fingers clenching the wood trim of her desk as hard as she could, and he felt an unnerving jolt of panic hit him all at once. “What do we do?!”

“I-I don’t know!”

“You grew up on a farm didn’t you?!”

“An orchard! We don’t have livestock! Once our pet dog gave birth, but it’s not like–!”

“That’s more than me!” Rapax yelled. “What do we do? Think, man!”

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“Uh, um… towels! We need towels!”

“Good! And?”

“Help her lie down, and give me your jacket!”

“Right.” Rapax got up, stripped his doublet, and tossed it to Baca. “Apologies, General.” Helping her up whether she wanted the help or not, Rapax got General Yudha out of her seat, kicked her chair away, and eased her onto the floor behind her desk where he did his best to support her head and shoulders with his lap.

“I’ll go get some sort of towel and be right back,” Baca declared, scrambling to the door.

“There’s a blanket… in the cupboard,” the general gasped through another building contraction. Baca changed course and found the blanket in question, stumbling back to the desk in a rush to drape it over the general’s legs.

“Excuse me, General,” Baca offered, his hands moving to the waist of her pants and pausing for permission.

“Just do what you have to,” she whimpered, and Baca carefully peeled her pants off, respecting her privacy as much as possible by keeping his eyes above the blanket.

“What do I do?” Rapax asked, still trying not to panic.

“Just give me your hand!” the general cried, and moments later, Rapax stifled a yelp as his hand was crushed. Her grip relaxed and Rapax looked up at Baca who was white as a sheet.

“I can see the head.”

“What do we do?”

Baca shook himself and became stern. “General, you need to push.”

“How do you do that?!” she cried.

“I don’t know! You… you push!”

“Gee! That clarifies a lot!”

“I don’t–!” Baca was cut off as the general started folding in half, a guttural growl escaping her throat, and Rapax got his hand crushed again.

“That’s it! That’s–” A slick, wet sound preceded the wail of a baby near the general’s feet and Baca wrapped the baby in Rapax’s jacket before flopping it gently onto its mother’s chest. “It’s a boy!” Just then the door flew open, and Arum returned with the new father.

“Congratulations, Rogue! It’s a boy!”

“Both of them?!” Rogue asked excitedly.

“B-both of them?” Baca frowned.

“She’s having twins.”

“Twins?!” the three commanders chimed in unison.

“You didn’t tell them?” Rogue asked his wife.

“It never… came up.” And suddenly she was pushing again. Rapax snatched the baby off the general’s chest before he could fall to the floor.

“Move, Baca!” Rogue ordered, and Commander Baca gratefully relinquished his position as the baby catcher and started stripping his own doublet for the next baby. “You’re doing great Callida,” Rogue encouraged, tying and cutting the cord connecting the first baby, now crying in the crook of Rapax’s elbow, to his mother. An eternity later, but probably really only a minute or two, another wailing infant emerged to be wrapped in a doublet and immediately passed to Baca so Rogue could tie off and clip the second umbilical cord. “It’s another boy!” On the other side of the desk, Rapax caught a glimpse of Commander Arum as he swooned against the wall and crumpled haphazardly to the floor and out of sight.

“You alright, Arum?” Rapax called.

“Yeah. I think I was holding my breath,” came the muffled reply. “I just need a minute.”

“Primordials, Callida, you’re losing too much blood,” Rogue was muttering, and the general whimpered with her husband’s fist massaging her gut. And then he stopped. “Oh. Oh, Primordials….”

“What?” the general asked what everyone was wondering. And suddenly she was pushing again. “What… was that?”

“Callida, there’s another one,” Rogue informed her, sounding stunned himself.

“No there isn’t,” she rejected immediately.

“M’lady, listen to me. I need you to push.”

She snapped. “People need to stop telling me to push! I already–” She was straining again, but even Rapax could tell it was different this time. Instead of helping or even allowing her body to push, she was fighting the contraction.

“Callida, you have to push!”

“No!” Her head still resting against Rapax’s leg, the general started crying. “No, Rogue. There are two of them. You said there were two of them. I–” Another contraction. She was weak, refusing to bear down, and panting unproductively from the exertion between her tears, and it occurred to Rapax that, not only was she in denial, but she was absolutely terrified. For General Yudha, of all people, to be crippled by fear, something had to be terribly, terribly wrong. Rapax felt another growing surge of panic.

Rogue moved to grab her face and force eye contact. “Callida, if you don’t push, you’ll die. You’re bleeding out, and I can’t do anything to help you until you push.”

“I don’t want to. Please, Rogue…. I can’t– I can’t do this.” She was begging and rapidly approaching delirium from blood loss.

“You have to. Please? For me?” After a moment, she set her jaw and braced herself, rallying her strength and determination. “Give me one good push, Callida.” The contraction was building, and the general came through, bearing down with everything she had left. Moments later, a third screaming infant escaped from beneath the blanket. “Arum, take the baby!”

“Me?! I don’t know what to do with–”

“TAKE THE BABY!” Rogue shouted, holding the naked, screaming child out to him. “She’s bleeding out!” Arum scrambled, reaching out to catch, and while Rogue returned to his wife, Baca gave Arum instructions.

“Don’t hold the baby out like that; hold it to your chest.”

“Like this?” Arum asked, flopping the baby uncontrolled against his shoulder where it started screaming harder. “Oh. Uh… he doesn’t like me very much! Why is he so slimy?!”

“Tuck him into your jacket! He’s cold!” Baca ordered.

“Right. Erm…” One hand keeping the baby against his shoulder, the other unbuttoning his uniform, Arum managed to slip the infant down the front of his doublet, providing a little extra head support and the necessary heat.

“Rapax, I need you to set Callida’s head on the floor,” Rogue said, and Rapax shifted. He wasn’t sure when the general had passed out, but all the blood puddling on the floor and staining Rogue’s sleeves seemed a likely reason.

“Rogue, is she…?” Rapax couldn’t finish the question, and Rogue was busy concentrating anyway, his eyes closing and fist mercilessly digging into the general’s gut as though trying to put pressure on an internal bleed.

“Come on, Callida. Almost there,” he was muttering, mostly to himself. A minute later, Rogue reached out to check the general’s pulse and then sat back on his heels, his face sweaty but relieved. Reading his reaction, the commanders released their own collective sigh of relief, and Rogue moved to find a chair with which to prop the general’s feet up.

“So, they’re all boys?” Baca asked. “I mean, mine is.”

“Mine is,” Rapax nodded and then chuckled at Arum who was rummaging through his jacket to check what was between the legs of the infant resting against his chest.

“Mine too!”

“I… can’t believe that just happened,” Baca mused with an uncertain laugh. With the babies now calm and quiet, the group sat in processing silence.

“What now, Rogue?” Rapax asked after a minute.

“Now? Now I need to get Callida home and to bed — the babies too.”

“Hey, congrats, by the way,” Baca said, nudging Rogue’s shoulder. “From zero to three kids in record time.”

“Yeah….” From Rogue’s response, it was clear that he was still in disbelief about the whole thing. “I need to go clean everything up, find a stretcher, and–”

“I’ll do it!” Arum volunteered. “I’ll find a stretcher and a medical clean-up crew.” He stood up and stripped his doublet so he could pass it along with the baby to the new father. “I’ll be right back.”