Chapter 132: Epilogue
Willin checked over the details of his assignment on his portable terminal again, though the simple list left him rather wary. He was to report on how relations were proceeding, the status of the staff assigned to the embassy, and finally, any concerning developments that may occur...
How reassuring.
Regardless, orders were orders, and after a year of sitting around waiting for the worst, he was on a transport to take the reins at the location of his ‘generous’ promotion. He spent most of his forced vacation with his parent’s den and helping them move to another planet. The initial stages of the alarmingly large relocation efforts were fairly disheartening, but thankfully, all the basic requirements for civilization were erected after two seasons, and his family’s new city was actually starting to look like one. It made leaving them behind much less worrying—unlike knowing that ‘Horizon’ was the entity behind both the selection of the planet, as well as the sudden boom in construction.
He wasn’t a fool; he was there during the congressional, locked away from the events behind barriers of rank and status. Even with all the hurdles in place, he was still aware of the notifications that reached the upper stations.
The High Elders were removed entirely, the Claws took their place, and new Claws were instated.
It didn’t take a genius to connect the pieces. Avalon, Horizon, and the United Military gathered, and on the second sun of the deliberations, there was an instant and brutal shift in command. With new leadership in place, the UM quickly accepted all conditions. It was only a season after when Geras was set to flame, and with it, the realm in which he was raised. Admittedly, it was a move required to escape the Union’s notice, but one he hated to agree with.
The shudder of the craft put an end to his reverie, a single low tone confirming that they had entered the atmosphere. He turned on the external view, but it looked about as he remembered—wild and unkempt. It wasn’t anything like a UM controlled space.
Or he didn’t think so.
He was proven wrong once they got low enough to notice some discrepancies. The treeline didn’t quite flow as it should, there was more silver on the forest floor than natural, and if he looked closely, a river diverged where it otherwise wouldn’t. It was all things that one would have to spend time on the planet to notice, but it was there. Odd.
They had built into the terrain and stuck to local materials—for the exterior of their constructions, at least. Not logging the entire habitable area was a strange move, but he supposed that when one’s hiding place was technically within enemy territory, it was wise not to draw attention to yourself. Place structures beneath the canopy, use the shade to hide from aerial view, and be selective with shuttle transit. Granted, it would slow expansion, but that was never really the point of relocating three colony ships here. It was a gene pool for if the worst came to pass; this planet would be their final hope.
A’lena would be their final hope.
At least he was on decent enough terms with his new neighbours.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The shuttle had set down amongst the trees, navigating what seemed to be a carefully plotted route to avoid direct exposure from above. He was unceremoniously deposited at a UM checkpoint that doubled as their main headquarters, asked why he was there, swiftly escorted once they heard his answer, then left to his own devices while he waited for a surface-grade transport to be prepared.
Because of course someone forgot to account for the time difference when scheduling everything, and he was several suns earlier than they expected. At least he could wander the premises and take in how novel everything was while he waited.
As he suspected, almost every building had been embedded within the ground. The first level or two were accessible from outside, then any subsequent expansion was subterranean. Not a particularly popular Lilhun design choice—and the general architecture struck him as somewhat alien—so he suspected that blueprints were supplied by their mysterious allies as well. Entire hallways were hewn out of the very rust-coloured stone it was dug into, but despite that, each immaculate wall was deftly decorated with engraved scripture and ideograms, as if a religious sculptor had chosen masonry as a hobby.
His unasked question was answered as he curiously followed the sound of scratching stone while waiting for his transfer. Beyond the nascent portions of the complex—past guards who paid respect to his supposedly important role and behind temporary doors—laid the workers in the process of carving out another room.
Atmo.
It took a few moments for the implications to fully reach him, but the dangling lanyards around their necks sported a ‘contractor’ designation, as well as the security clearance that would give them free access to where they needed to be. The massive insects paused in their work to see who was disturbing them, and—lacking a more cognitive reaction—he waved, getting a small greeting in return before they continued their task.
The UM was hiring aliens to assist in building their cities?
That was...fine... Strange, but fine. He excused himself out of habit, receiving some chitters of confirmation and a ‘take care’ displayed by one who had a tablet terminal along with their badge. At least they were as polite as he remembered.
And not threatening to behead him, which was nice.
Even when he asked the staff, barely anyone seemed surprised by his discovery. As far as he could gather from idle conversation, they were offered the Atmo’s services in exchange for cultural resources and an open dialogue with the new city’s officials—or put simply: art, various texts, and an agreement to do business in the future. The Atmo were hired, paid, given creative pieces, then left or rotated out once their job was done. Those who worked at the complex admitted to being wary of the insects initially, but have since come to tolerate them at worst. Most varied on a scale of ‘idly conversing with them’ to ‘pleasantly surprised.’
The biggest complaints were the current reliance on written mediums, their general size making them tower over Lilhuns, and an eagerness to speak of their Queen.
All mundane then. Now if those concerns had larger consequences than bored participants, then he might have bothered noting it. As it was, a lack of entertainment gained from a voluntary activity was hardly worth the breath it took to sigh when hearing about it, let alone the effort of filling out the forms to submit a grievance.
‘Locals bored by conversation they initiated.’ Yep, that would look great on a report.
The transport did eventually arrive—though not until Willin had been given the dubious privilege of wandering the premises of the complex unbothered. He wasn’t sure if his position was actually that important, or if security was just that lax. Either way, he collected his belongings and made his way towards the pickup.
The smaller shuttle’s passenger area was really only big enough for himself and maybe a few more Lilhuns. He could somewhat picture three Atmo occupying it, but that would be fairly cramped. The ceiling could support them, he supposed.
The speaker crackled inside the gold and silver craft when he got his luggage settled away, informing him that the trip would take a while in an effort to keep down on noise and that he was welcome to catch a nap if he wanted to. It was surprisingly casual—given his apparent rank and all—but it was nice not to feel more important than he was. He took the suggestion to heart and closed his eyes once the feeling of initial takeoff had passed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“We’re almost there, ambassador.”
His eyes opened slowly. Unlike previous shuttles, this one was never intended to exceed any great elevation, so windows were actually installed as opposed to the visual feeds he was used to being provided. The sun was still high, though he couldn’t tell if it was because they travelled along its path or if the trip was shorter than he expected. Vaguely familiar patterns in the landscape passed down below, not provoking him to question anything.
Which, in turn, provoked him to question everything.
“Pilot, was there a mistake?” he called out, rubbing away the remains of his quick rest. “I expected more to have been erected by now.”
The female on the other end of the speaker laughed. “The ma—” He raised a brow. “The high one of this territory has put emphasis on utilizing the land, rather than supplanting it.”
“A Blade?” he ventured. The speaker remained quiet until a sigh was produced from it.
“Sorry, the UM didn’t have a shuttle ready. You’re supposed to be with us anyway, so...”
The green-furred male considered noting it on his terminal, but again, ‘UM failures rectified by allies’ didn’t seem like a great start to his politically inclined position. Might be a good way to end it though.
He returned to staring out the window, watching the golden expanse speed by. The rest of the trip was quiet, if short. Silver walls of the settlement he was relocating to came into view, making him even more curious.
Nothing had really changed. Sure, the place had filled out—the interior was littered with various buildings, decoratively allotted trees, and even public rest areas around fire pits—but the broad strokes remained the same. The surrounding forest had been thinned out to support the materials consumed, but not in an intrusive enough manner to draw suspicion. He had almost expected it to quadruple or more in size, but his expectations didn’t seem to matter much to the human who owned the place.
Fences extended from the broadest points of the wall to a somewhat nearby hill, a pathway cutting through the closed-off area from the settlement to the further terrain. As they got close enough for him to pick out individual Lilhun and Atmo, he could see that the enclosed area had animals wandering within. A fence wouldn’t be enough to keep them in, would it? His experience with the wildlife was thankfully little, but the reports were largely about how lethal most of it could be.
Then he noticed the ‘moss-wolves’ shepherding any overly-curious livestock away from a damaged section of the enclosure undergoing repairs. His jaw went slack as he watched several of them chase one of the other animals away from its escape attempt, then...return to the ongoing construction? They were hunting, but not committing?
“A greymaw got hungry,” the pilot chipped in over the speaker, chuckling when he glanced around for any video transmission devices. “You won’t find them. To answer the question on your face, the wolves have been working with the pack since Faye started training them. After we got rid of the greymaw, they were sent to keep the rest of our animals inside while we fixed the fence.”
Willin nodded, wearily eyeing the passenger area before looking back out the window, the shuttle slowly circling the settlement for landing. He let his curiosity return to other matters. “I thought there would be more done. It looks the same as the last time I was here, save for some minor differences.”
“The master has been selective in regards to who can join his settlement, and he’s a proponent of vertical expansion. The infrastructure is better, even if it’s not obvious, but most of the additions are out of sight. Every den has electricity, the pack has access to amenities, properly trained medical personnel... It’s a far cry from fire heat and outdoor toilets.” She paused. “The bath is still there, though. It’s nice.”
He perked an ear. “You seem well informed as to the previous state of the territory.”
“My job is to know things,” she replied nonchalantly. He hummed curiously for her to continue, but silence was all he was given.
They made one more loop around the settlement before the shuttle pitched downwards to land just outside of the walls. He was greeted by bright light—sun after sun in transit made it even harder to deal with—and a servant uniform he remembered surprisingly well.
“Ambassador,” the dark red-furred female greeted with a bow, releasing a yellow avian to the air.
“Scarlet, yes?” he replied as professionally as he could. He’d been away from stuffy ranks and military doctrine for a while, so it would take some getting used to again. His paw raised to provide some alleviation from the blinding environment as he watched the bird disappear into the settlement. “It’s good to see you are well.”
The Wraith smirked, her eyes looking past him. He followed her momentary gaze and stifled a jump at the unexpected presence. An Atmo was silently transferring the luggage off the shuttle and onto the storage area attached to their arachnid abdomen, the typically vibrant colours he was used to seeing in the species replaced by a muted dark grey. A hiss from the craft’s cockpit was ignored in favour of wondering how out of touch he was for an insect significantly larger than him to slip past his notice.
“The feeling is mutual, ambassador,” Scarlet assured in amusement, wiping the smile off her face when he looked back at her. “We have been awaiting your return.”
He exhaled, letting his concern over ‘rusted instincts’ leave with the breath. “I take it you are to guide me?”
The female shook her head. “I am here to retrieve the shuttle. Your pilot will act as your escort and is under orders to provide assistance or clarification—should you find yourself in need.”
Willin frowned, but accepted it quickly enough. “I was under the impression you were in charge of such things.”
“My duties are whatever the master wishes of me,” she clarified, nodding to someone behind him and stepping towards the transport. “It just so happens that his wish differed on this occasion. I pray the sun treats you well, ambassador.”
“You as...well...” He furrowed his brow as he turned to see Scarlet pass the female who had apparently piloted the transport. He knew that Avalon had been superseded by Tel—the rumours were quick to reach him when it happened—but he wasn’t sure how involved the Grand...Master Hunter was in the affairs of the Blades. Enough so that the usual servant or Blade attire he expected was replaced by something rather...different.
She had beige fur that shifted to a lighter colour around her jaw, an audio interface in her ear, a black jacket ending at her scarred midriff, a green shirt following the same length, and pants saturated with numerous pockets. All of her clothing looked thicker than appropriate for the season, but a glimpse of extensive wiring and various devices lining the outfit suggested that most of the garment’s bulk was for cable management. Her tail swayed in a lazy manner unfitting of a Blade, but nor was it an actively subservient display that the Wraiths preferred. The only thing stopping him from truly questioning if she was what she purported to be was the razor-sharp gaze that swept the area before dulling to a casual, half-lidded smirk.
She strode up to him, her paws stuffed loosely into her jacket pockets. “Ready to go? It’s hot out and I want to get back before mistress Volta starts recruiting for cleanup.”
“I... Yes?” He looked her up and down, but even her scent didn’t justify the sense of having met the female before. She tipped her head, gesturing for the Atmo to follow. Again, the insect moved with precisely placed steps that allowed it to make next to no noise. If he didn’t strain his hearing, he wouldn’t know they were there at all.
“Then let's go,” she declared tiredly, a yawn slipping out of her muzzle. The tilt of her neck allowed him to view another thin scar on her neck, but she was blinking away the tear of fatigue before he could wonder much about it. She walked on, keeping a few paces ahead of him.
The gate was as he remembered, save for some structural improvements. The security detail paused their conversation to see who was entering, but one look at the female was enough for them to dismiss their curiosity.
“Any weapons on you?” his guide asked, idly taking in the scenery as they made their way through the...streets? Close enough. He shook his head, remembering that although he was technically allowed to be armed, he wasn’t quite in the mood to be frisked to confirm. The Blade glanced back at him, her eyes falling to his hip, then his right leg. She stared, cycling a breath. “Don’t draw the pistol or the knife and we’re fine.”
“The knife?” he asked, feigning ignorance. Noticing his pistol? Fine, she was a Blade; she probably had something on the shuttle that checked for the cells powering it. His knife though? That was a new alloy given to him specifically because it would circumvent detection. Even the sheath it sat in wouldn’t affect the profile of his boot.
The beige-furred female’s ear flicked before she turned her regard forward and continued on her way. “Right side, slips from the outer edge. I don’t care if you have it, I’m just making sure you know what not to do with it.”
Willin halted his retort, deciding to let it go and keep following her. He was curious, but not enough to start trouble over it. He’d just make a note of it for his report later. “Understood.”
The expansion of the settlement didn’t have much of an impact on the general vibe of the place, surprisingly, but there were certainly changes elsewhere. Members of the pack conversed and carried on with more Atmo than he recalled there being. Agricultural plots were in full swing along the edges of the walls, staffed by the mix of species. He noticed a Trilaxin and a human he didn’t recognize tending to a disgruntled male who seemed to have injured his arm.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Moss-wolves wandered the settlement, following the few dressed in standard Wraith attire as they went about their duties. The animals would sit whenever their handler idled in one location for too long, their eyes finding and tracking Willin as he walked past.
“They won’t bite,” his guide stated. “It’s why I said not to draw your weapons—then they will.”
“They’re watching me.”
“You’re new,” she explained, pivoting to walk backwards. Her eyes unfocused every so often as she spoke, but even completely oblivious to the crowd behind her, she didn’t step into anyone or trip. “If you weren’t with me, they’d keep you out until one of us permitted you to enter. Don’t worry, they get friendlier once they know you belong.”
He glanced back at one of the watchful wolves, the vigilant stare replaced by a dopey expression as a kit pet it.
Wait.
“There are young?”
The Blade nodded, her eyes flicking to the edge of her vision for a moment. “Yeah. That one belongs to a new den that arrived recently. Curious little thing.”
He looked back at the kit, then at his guide. She didn’t even so much as turn her head to see who he was talking about. “How did you…“
His question stalled as they entered a more open area of the settlement, benches and trees surrounding a large circular pavilion. It was a hotbed of activity, most of it being members of the pack stopping in front of a towering sculpture that was host to a sermon being given by the priest and his mate, both walking from person to person to offer kind words. The Blade tilted her head, finally checking behind her to see what caught his attention.
“Oh, that.”
“What are they doing?” he whispered, watching a presumably mated pair approach the statue to give thanks and speak with the priest before going about their sun.
“Offering prayer,” she replied with a shrug. “Recent tradition.”
“Prayer for what?”
The beige-furred female gazed at the art piece with a conflicted expression. “Fertility, protection, and a peaceful passing of their young if the worst happens.”
“But isn’t that—“
“—Mama,” she finished with a sigh. He looked back at the sculpture in surprise.
The Atmo was meticulously crafted out of local woods, scorched to give it almost lifelike depth, and lovingly detailed down to the slight crease in every scale and the notch in her bladed arm. He didn’t know why, but just seeing it was enough to feel like the departed insect was affectionately welcoming him. She was lowered to her base, one arm to her torso, while the other offered the rounded joint of her wrist—as if to caress the face of the viewer. Even as unfamiliar with the original alien as he was, he could tell that whoever did it cared immensely for them. A plaque sat at the bottom, proudly declaring its contents for all to see.
[In memory of a twinned soul—The Mother of All. May she guide her kits to the Great Hunt, no matter who they may be.]
“Atrox spent entire seasons working on it in secret,” the Blade admitted wistfully. “Can’t say I’ve spoken with her before she passed, but I owe her in a way.”
He glanced at her with a raised brow. “You mean you could have talked with her?”
She turned on the spot and waved him to follow. “We’re almost there. Watch out for the wolf.”
A yellow blur passed in front of his feet as soon as he stopped to look for the animal he was to be wary of, said wolf sprinting to join another before both disappeared beyond a building. How did she...
A glimmer of light brought his attention to the corner of a den. A recording device... Sure enough, they were subtle, but interspersed around the settlement. He doubted there was a single section one could go without being on screen somewhere. That would explain how she was so aware of everything, but she hasn’t once taken out a terminal to reference. So how...
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Technical Operations?”
His guide stumbled slightly, turning an ear back towards him. “I’m just a Blade. No names or titles.”
“Joseph names his Blades,” he noted, staring at her back.
She chuckled, gaining back her confident stride. “He names his Wraiths. The Blades belong to the mistress.”
“There’s a difference?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Blades focus on elimination. Wraiths are a wider application.”
“With how you’re keeping tabs on the surveillance, I’d say you’re a Wraith then.” He smirked at a muttered expletive. “Your name?”
She stopped in front of a broad and tall building that was different from the others of the settlement. It had far more space around it, and used more traditional Lilhun architecture than the workshops it was near.
The Wraith sighed, her eyes peering over her shoulder with a strange hope in them. “Eris. Nothing more, nothing less.”
A part of him sunk, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity pestering the back of his mind. He joined her side, gazing at what looked to be the embassy, and where he’d spend the duration of his deployment. The Atmo he forgot was following them stepped past and into the building with his luggage, disappearing within the confines of the structure. He drew a breath as he tried to stifle the uneasy disappointment he couldn’t pin the source of.
“I suppose I shall encounter you again at some point, Eris. Thank you for escorting me, and I pray the rest of the sun treats you well.”
She stared at him, her expression flickering between the relaxed one she had worn up to this point, and irritation. Eventually, she settled on a faint scowl, nodding tersely as she turned to leave, muttering once more under her breath. He missed most of it, but two words caught his ear.
Cold Room.
His head snapped towards her retreating form. “What was that?”
She tensed, staring at the ground in front of her. “I wished you well.”
“No.” His feet carried him forward, his paw reaching out. The voice was different, the scent was incomparable, and there wasn’t a vocal modulator in sight, yet the way she said it was the same. He’d never forget it, because it was a part of their usual banter for the entire time they had been assigned together. He had played over those conversations over and over, reliving times reminiscent of when they were just idly scanning planets, instead of being betrayed by their government and shot at by the people they were trying to offer help.
The beige-furred female flinched as he gripped her shoulder. She didn’t even resist as he turned her to face him, but her eyes wouldn’t meet his own. He needed to confirm it. He was either right, or going insane, and he’d rather know which it was. The green-furred male pierced her with his stare, uncaring of the looks he was getting from passing pack members.
“Who am I?”
Eris kept her gaze down. “You are the ambassador.”
His other paw joined the first, a wince alerting him that the pressure was hurting her. His grip loosened, his tone becoming more pleading. “You know me, don’t you? What is my name?”
She finally looked up, distressed and hesitant, but something else seemed stronger. Her lips pursed in silent debate.
“Please,” he begged quietly. “No protocol. No rules. Just tell me I’m not crazy.”
The female looked away, firmly brushing him off. “Goodbye, ambassador.”
With that, he let her go, reluctant to draw breath again. Maybe this was it. Maybe, after a year of holding his keepsake close, he had finally cracked the moment he met a female that looked like her. He couldn’t stop the feeling of loss as she walked out of view.
“Hello, Leader!”
He blinked away unwanted dampness, forcing a smile as he turned to regard the white-furred female approaching with a kit in her arms as she said farewell to the other seamstress of the settlement—Idee, if he remembered right. “Huntress Pan, greetings. Is he yours?”
The diminutive female shuffled her bundle of kit with a giggle, using a freed paw to play with the small male. Closed eyes led blind efforts to capture the claw brushing his fur, but his black and orange-furred tail eventually found the target, bringing it to tiny paws that happily grasped it.
Her eyes softened further as she returned her attention to Willin. “He is Harrow’s, but she is occupied at the moment, so I offered to care for him. I believe Sahari and Nalah are tending to his sister until Jax returns.” Pan tilted her head, an ear flopping alongside the motion as she looked around for something. “Is Tech— Apologies. Is Eris not here? She was rather insistent on greeting...you...”
He barely heard the fading voice of the Paw, the wind quickly assaulting his ears as he tore through the pathways without concern for appearances. Blurs of silver dens and workplaces passed, yet his vision remained sharp on where his guide had disappeared. A choked, frustrated sob in an alley brought him to a halt. He approached the shade behind a den, letting his eyes adjust to the difference in illumination. Another corner, and she was there, sat on the ground with her face buried into arms supported by her knees, her muffled voice catching in her throat as she noticed the intrusion on her privacy.
He crouched in front of her, her ear flicking erratically in the nostalgic habit she had when checking her augments. She finally looked at him, but she remained quiet, her gaze both fearful and expectant.
“You’re alive,” he whispered, terrified that he was wrong. “H-how? I... I watched your funeral...”
Tech...Eris wiped her face with the heel of her paw as she cleared her throat, the scratchy response weak and defeated. “I need to be dead, Leader. I don’t need to tell you what would happen if the UM found out. Just go. Pretend you don’t know, and go. I’ll stay away—“
“—No.” His paw caught her wrist when she tried to wave him off. “I lost you once. I’m not losing you again.”
Fresh tears built in her eyes as she struggled against his grasp, but she barely put effort into it. “The UM—“
“—The UM can burn,” he hissed, falling onto his knees. “The UM has your... Tell me... How?”
Eris’ tension melted at the firmness in his voice and the intensity of his stare. “Joseph used the body of another who perished. His kin had the equipment to bide time until replacements could be made.”
“Replacements? But they should have been top secret at best. You’d have to hack into...”
Her shy smirk ended his thought. Of course she would. Not only were the UM lied to about one of their experimental soldiers being disposed of, their allies had acquired the means to make their own. If word got back to command, the entire alliance would turn into a bloodbath by the end of the sun, Union be damned. He nodded to himself slowly.
“So, Tech is dead,” he murmured. The beige-furred female didn’t even try to deny the sorrow staining her fur, but her expression gained a tint of confusion as he smiled at her.
“Exactly. You should go back to the embassy and forget. That’s what’s best.”
“You’re right,” he admitted, shuffling to his feet. She let out a soft yelp when he tugged her up with him, weakly protesting when he wrapped her in a tight embrace.
“Leader, seriously. You should go before—“
“—What’s my name?”
She stiffened in his arms. “You know that I can’t—“
“—Please.”
Her paws reached up behind his shoulders, pressing herself further into him. “...Willin.”
“You’ve known for a long time, haven’t you?”
She buried her muzzle into his neck. “I know more about you than I should.”
His rumbling chuckle drew a questioning expression as he parted to arm’s length. “I don’t know anything about you, sadly.”
“...We should keep it that way. We can’t have people learning...” Her voice faltered as his claw caressed her cheek. Everything was different, but still the same. Same crafty nature, same dry sarcasm, same stubborn attitude, and same...
“Tech is dead,” he reiterated softly. “But Eris is in front of me, and I would very much like to know more about her.”
He watched the gears in her mind turn as her face ticked from expression to expression. Yep, still the same.
He wasn’t ready for her to lunge at him, the emotional tangle of joy and terror fuelling her cries as she lay on top of him, nor the passionate kiss that came after, but when her tail found his? Well, he suddenly found that a part of him had been ready for a long, long time.
He had prayed when he carried Tech’s dying form into the settlement that moon, then believed that the Hunt Mother spurned him for his lack of faith. It turned out that her blessing came through her Guardian, and he just needed a little patience to receive the reward for helping when few others would.
Eris raised herself off of him, her panting giving way to a shocked realization at what she had just done. “I... That was...”
He quieted her with a gentle claw, his paw slipping back around her neck. “I heard my room will be rather cold this moon. Perhaps you could help me stay warm?”
A blush betrayed her scowl. “Really? A pickup line?”
He smirked, losing himself in her eyes. “Will you not?”
She plunged in for another kiss, biting her lip when she came up for air. “I’m blasting the conditioner and disabling the heater.”
“I guess I’ll need you often then.”
Eris sighed, mirth colouring a small smile. “I needed to die before you thought to ask.”
His question was stopped by a paw over his muzzle.
“Shut up. I spent our entire deployment waiting, the last year convincing myself that I’d be okay when you got here, and the first thing you do is confront me by saying the title of a dead female.” She pressed her snout to his, their lips separated by naught but what silenced him. “Here’s what’s going to happen: when I move my paw, you’re going straight to your room, I’m slipping past security through a back route, and neither of us are leaving until all you can do is say my name. Okay?”
Willin nodded, already mentally drafting his ‘nothing of note’ report for the next few suns.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
“...And that’s what you missed, really,” Joseph finished, staring into the small cave and taking in the details long since abandoned. Shallow etchings on the walls designated shelving that had yet to be added next to measurements for a doorway that was never made. An indent in the floor held rainwater, and the remains of a firepit sat in the centre of the space. The red stone maw opened itself to him through the misting rain, memories of a man much more frail coming to the surface.
He could picture Mama sculpting away at her art, evaluating them before depositing them into the fire at random to start a new one. Violet would ensure he was comfortable, practising applying healroot on his palms and listening to stories as he escaped reality. They would lie together in front of the flames and eat the strange geological animal, or process what catch they managed with his snares. He could hear the river not far in the distance, the thing they had saved him from now being just another feature of a world he no longer feared.
He laid a sampling of all their latest creations where Mama used to sleep, the collection of crops, textiles, and Violet’s craft projects marking about a year since the Hatcher had passed. It was a sentimental moment to find where he had first met the Atmo and deliver his gift, but it felt right. The pack offered prayers, hoping that the Hunt Mother would see another like herself in the insect, and bestow upon her a duty she deserved.
‘The Mother of All.’
A cheesy title, sure, but it fit her to a tee. Mama always saw everyone in the pack as a child in need of love, and she had ample amounts to give. Maybe it was because of what she was, or maybe it was something unique to her, but the pack were steadfast in their decision. He never said a word against it; he was just happy that others missed her as much as he did. It was why he bothered spending the time to locate this out-of-the-way cave in the first place.
The pack knew of her kind heart at the settlement, but him? He experienced it here. He just hoped that she would be happy for all the progress they made since she left them. That she would see what her sacrifice let them achieve. He was even planning on bringing Harrow’s kits, but Lilhun infants apparently didn’t do well with flying. That was fine. One day, he’d bring the twins to see where he had met the Atmo that saved them, their human father, and their mother. They might never quite understand it, but Mama would’ve melted seeing the fluffy things, so even that was still worth it.
His earpiece chirped a distinct tune, alerting him of an incoming call. He smiled at Violet standing off to the side and gestured for her to go on ahead, his daughter reluctantly nodding before giving him a hug and walking off.
He tapped his ear once she was out of sight. “Hey.”
“I hate you.”
He chuckled, turning away from the cave to step into the shelter of a rubber-wood tree, resting his back on the trunk with crossed arms. “Did I call it?”
Harrow echoed him in a mocking tone, playfulness in her voice removing the sting. “Yes. Eris just jumped him, slipped away, and transferred control of the network over to me.”
Joseph shook his head. “I told you she had a thing for him.”
“Yes, obviously, but I wasn’t expecting Pan to mess up and blow her cover so quickly!” she moaned as a rustle in the brush drew his eye. A wild moss-wolf exploded out of the bushes a split-second after.
“You know as well as I do—“ A flash of an Atmo blade bisected the assailant before flicking back into the foliage, sending two halves of the wolf crashing to the ground at his feet. He adjusted his posture for the footrest. “—that she didn’t ‘mess up.’ Pan’s a romantic at heart; I wouldn’t be surprised if she just jumped in to save the poor female the wait.”
Harrow sighed. “I’m only counting it because you’ve been a great help with Kena and Rhylin.”
“Hey, they’re my kits too,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, they are…” The orange-furred female took a few seconds to continue. “Anyway. Bets aside, Nalah just finished another round.”
“Any progress with Sahari’s bond to her?”
“Nothing solid yet, but we think it’s working.” He could practically hear the smirk forming on her face. “You’ll have another one of us glued to you yet.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he deadpanned, fighting his own smile. Jax had come back from visiting his family with his nose in a weird type of cast and an eye-patch. After a few weeks of it healing, he got them alone, tore off the cast, then promptly cried himself into a puddle while refusing to let Harrow or Joseph go. It never really crossed his mind that Jax had only minimal exposure to his scent, so he was surprised when the guy kidnapped them until he had ‘made up’ for the time without it. Harrow didn’t complain too much, but needless to say, she was over the moon when Jax reciprocated the bond.
“Made us love you,” she provided teasingly. He rolled his eyes.
“Love you guys too. Now if only you could—“
“—We’ll wear you down one sun, Joe.”
“It’s been like two years, Harrow.”
“Then you should know we’re not stopping!”
He forced his sigh, thankful that his friend was putting in the effort to lighten his mood, considering the occasion. His eyes turned to the cave as he was forced to address actual business. As welcome as some levity was, she wouldn’t contact him over this line just to carry on. “Funny. So what’s up?”
Her tone shifted instantly. Eris typically managed all communication and network traffic for Avalon, but with her...occupied, then that meant Harrow was in charge of it, and the female took her role seriously.
“We have requests you should look at.”
He pushed off the tree with his hip and snapped his fingers. Four Atmo and Lilhuns silently appeared from the foliage, one of each collecting the deceased wolf. He nodded approvingly to see that the other half had accompanied his daughter. “The Atmo aren’t ready for an external mission. Tel, Vi, and Daisy have done great, but…”
“Well we should be thankful no one knows about them,” she returned dryly. “But no, the UM wants a Blade and a Wraith to help clear out a Union data centre on an ‘abandoned’ homeworld; Intel suggests there’s a lot of notation on currently observed species they’ve quarantined. The second is from Horizon. There’s a public station acting as a ‘testing grounds’ for a new contact and they need us to observe and facilitate an escape without notice, if needed.”
“Both risky, but for different reasons… Payment?”
“Enough to finish furnishing the fifth level of the bunker and copies of whatever data we find. New friends too, if we’re lucky.”
He grunted, gesturing to his security detail that it was time to head back to the transport. “Let Tel know we’re going to want a Blade; I’ll see who’s ready on my end.”
“Will do. See you when you get back, Joe.”
“You too, Harrow. Later.” He ended the call with a tap, shooting one last glance back to the cave that played the role as his first home on the planet. Even if it started with a crash landing and an unexpected swim, he could only look back on it fondly. He adjusted his wedding ring with a sardonic smirk.
The vacation was over, but his work had just begun.