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There’s a horror story that goes around all branches of the Agency, but it’s especially prominent in the American and Japanese branches, about an “Agent Oberon”. Not much is known about them, or at least not much is shared, except that they’re a male wolf that was trained by one of the best agents the Agency had and was in an accident involving Japan and some kind of scientific experiment; the accident ended up nearly dissolving the Japanese branch. Rumor has it that the body was never recovered, but that isn’t quite true.
I should know; I was there when it happened. You could even say I was partially responsible, though a friend of mine might argue with that.
It was an ordinary work day, at first; I was running security checks, making sure everything was working fine, when I noticed a PDS (short for Point Defense System) error in the—
Well, perhaps I should just start from the beginning, to that fateful day two years ago. Might make more sense that way, after all…
***
I opened my eyes slowly, a groan escaping me as I sat up and rubbed at my eyes to remove all the tiny crusty things that had formed, or come to rest, or whatever they did, overnight. A groan to my left alerted me to the fact I wasn’t as alone as I might have preferred. I turned my head to see my former instructor, Satō Ito (more widely known as Agent Gato) sitting up. He shook his head and muttered, “The fuck am I?”
I cleared my throat. The tod stiffened, remaining completely still for several seconds before he turned to look at me. He let out another groan, this time being one of horror instead of discomfort. “Oh god,” he said.
“Christ, could you be any more personable?” I muttered. “Not too long ago you were friendly as can be.”
“Yeah, and see where being friendly gets me,” the tod replied.
“Falling asleep in the same bed as somebody else?” I inquired with an arched eyebrow. Gato tilted his head.
“What?” he asked.
“Satō-”
“Gato.”
“Whatever. Anyway, tell me something: is your ass sore?”
“...No,” the tod said.
“Neither is mine. That tells me this is either a case of mistaken room number, or we both blacked out before anything could really happen,” I replied. Gato was silent for a long moment, a look of contemplation on his face. Finally, he just nodded and threw the blanket off. Both of us were wearing shorts, which further aided my hypothesis. That or our inebriated selves were extremely self conscious and reluctant to tie.
That was a possibility too, I supposed.
“We should get to our stations,” Gato said. “Probably already time for our shifts to start, and mine’s on the other side of the freaking station.”
“Or mine is,” I replied.
“Or yours is,” the tod conceded. “However,” he added, “this doesn’t look anything like my room.” A cursory glance from me found me agreeing with the tod with a quiet “Hm.”
“What’s yours look like, then? A bunch of cute anime girl posters?” I prodded. Gato glared.
“Do you see me judging you for your K-Pop obsession?” Gato asked in response.
“Fair enough,” I replied.
Silence lingered as we both got dressed into our role-mandated outfits. Gato was reduced to wearing his guard outfit from the previous night, but that was what happened when you had an unplanned sleepover with your former charge. I, meanwhile, got a clean security outfit that smelled fresh and unworn. Score one for me.
We exited my room, both of us turning and walking in opposite directions.
“Hey, Isei,” Gato suddenly called. I turned, tilting my head. “Be careful, okay?”
“You know it,” I replied, then turned and walked off.
I made my way down several drab, grey concrete tunnels with the only “decorations” being security cameras. It was honestly kinda depressing, the lack of color. Compared to the normally brightly colored and cheerful appearance of the city the facility was housed in, it was a stark contrast.
***
You’re probably wondering if me waking up with a friend in my bed is usual for me. The answer is both a yes, and a no. Allow me to explain: Agent Gato and myself used to be the Agency’s equivalent of partners. Think the ending to the first Mammals in Black, when Kay tells Jay that he was training a replacement instead of a partner, as seemed to be the case. It’s sort of like that, but when a trainee finally becomes a full fledged agent, there’s no removal of the trainer. That would mean that there’s one less qualified agent to train potential candidates, and that wouldn’t really make sense, now would it?
Besides, that was an isolated incident in that series.
Anyway, back onto the topic at hand. Gato was my trainer and I his charge, as I’m sure you guessed. Normal procedure is that a trainer and their charge share a room, and sometimes, sharing a bed is necessary on assignments, whether it’s to keep up appearances, maintain our cover stories, or whatever other reason. And also when the air conditioning fritzes all to hell and makes the room too cold to comfortably sleep by yourself. Yeah, that happened a lot.
However, for full-fledged agents, it’s considered odd for more than one to occupy a single room. An exception would be Agents Seawolf and Balao. For whatever reason, everybody except for Director Wolfe acknowledges that they’re in a romantic relationship. He’s not stupid, so I’m sure he knows, but he refuses to acknowledge what quickly became common knowledge. Nobody knows why.
I’m getting off-topic again. Sorry. Bad habit and all that. The point is that me and Agent Gato are used to sharing a room, but it’d been a while and, considering the circumstances, understandable that both of us immediately assumed that relations had taken place. After the party celebrating a full year without an accident (and also the main prototype reactor finally working, but mostly the lack of accidents) the night before, nobody had been spared inebriation. Even the goddamn IT workers had joined in, and they only ever left their offices for emergencies!
Granted, in hindsight, perhaps a party had been a terrible idea. That was just tempting fate. Yet we did, and a lot -- and I do mean a lot; -- of people nearly died; like, the entire hundred mile radius could have been wiped out.
Obviously, since this story is being told by me, that means the accident was prevented and the day saved, right? Um, sort of. A couple of people still died, very nearly including myself, and there was still an explosion; however, the radius was minimized to the reactor room.
Okay, back to the story at hand.
***
I stepped into the room housing the reactor's readout control stations without a sound. I don't mean I entered the room silently, but that it went dead silent when I entered. Everybody turned to look at me, their gazes a mix of surprise at my lateness and annoyance at the disturbance. I frowned faintly, but didn't say anything as I walked over to my designated “stand here and look intimidating” spot. It held a complete view of the room rivaled only by the corners; I could see all the workers, the door, and out the giant plexiglass window to where the prototype reactor was housed. It looked almost nothing like a typical reactor, or at least what I imagined a typical reactor to look like. First off, it was a sphere. Odd, I know, but it worked so I didn't question it. I wasn't very sure on the details, but I did know it was supposed to be many times more efficient than even the best nuclear reactor. Again, not sure how, but it worked and that was all that mattered to me.
I expected to be spoken to about my tardiness, sure, but I didn't expect it to happen not even five minutes into my shift. I was already trying to fight off a hangover on steroids, so my self control was on the fritz. Somehow, I held it together and didn't punch my superior in the face, so I call that a win.
I mean, sure, I fantasized about punching him, but I didn't actually do it.
When the talk was over, the elk waltzed back over to his seat and sat down. I stood there, my expression stern and unwavering. I could already tell it was gonna be a long day.
***
Listen, Mister Interrogator, I'm getting tired of you looking at me like I'm weird, alright? You try nursing a hangover on every existing kind of steroid imaginable, and then see how well your self control is.
No? You won't? Oh, how predictable.
***
It was during my fifteen minute break, close to five hours after I made it to the control room, that I next saw Agent Gato. He was sitting at one of the tables near the far corner of the room, and since he was the only other person in the room at the time, I sat down across from him after getting a serving of ramen from the kitchen. Is it a bit stereotypical to serve ramen in a facility harboring American workers but located in Japan? Perhaps, perhaps not. Regardless, the chef could make some mean ramen. The three minute cooking packs ain't got nothing on genuine ramen cooked by somebody who knows what he's doing.
Gato looked up at me, an eyebrow arched in surprise. He swallowed some of his own ramen, let out a sound similar to trying to clear his throat, then hummed and said, “I think Nagisa added something to the recipe. This is a lot better than normal.”
“Oi, the ramen here is delicious, regardless. Don't let him hear you suggest otherwise,” I said, then failed miserably at picking up some ramen with the chop sticks provided. You'd think that a full six months in Japan would allow me to learn how to use chop sticks, but nope. “...Excuse me while I go see if he has a fork.”
I went to stand, over for Gato to pull a plastic fork from a pocket and set it down. I looked at him in a mix of amusement and bewilderment. “Why do you have a fork in your pocket?”
“You never know when you're gonna need it,” Gato replied, completely straight-faced and with a level tone of voice. I quickly realized he was dead serious, so I willed away my feelings of confusion and picked up the fork.
Needless to say, it was much easier to eat with the fork.
“So,” I began, “How's your day gone so far?” Gato shrugged.
“Well, Urako got pretty pissy at how I was five minutes late when everybody else was early – motherfuckers are crazy, I say – but other than that it's been about normal. You?” the tod replied. Urako – full name Urako Yoshida – was a female honey badger that was in charge or Security Team Alpha, which Gato was a part of. They covered the Western side of the facility.
“Yeah, pretty much the same. Hachigoro was pretty understanding, though,” I said. Hachigoro – full name Hachigoro Shirasu – was the elk I mentioned that talked to me about my tardiness. He was in charge of Security Team Beta. Unlike Urako, he was pretty lenient when it came to tardiness. He treated those under his command like his flesh and blood, which made him a popular person to go to if you needed emotional counseling without any fear of mockery. If anybody found out, he was fiercely protective and would stand up for you regardless, even if he had to get physical with the mocker.
Urako, on the other hand, was an ex-drill sergeant. Tough as nails, strict, and generally not very fun to be around (and that's on a good day!), many members of Security Team Alpha were vocal in their dislike of being under her command. Of course, they never said this where somebody who would tell her would overhear, nor when she was present. Rintaro Umari – a male white tailed deer – was particularly vocal about his dislike of serving under her.
Given his attitude and derisive tone when speaking of the badger, you'd be forgiven for mistaking him for a sexist. Just pray he never found out you thought that; he took the matter very seriously. I was surprised when I found out that he wasn't as sexist as I thought, and I didn't even think he was that sexist to begin with. Certainly not as bad as some people I'd met in the past.
***
Ignore the fact I use past tense when referring to the Security Teams. The only people who died that day were a couple scientists that fell asleep at their stations. The only reason they didn't hear the alarms was because they were mandated to wear earplugs to protect their hearing due to how noisy their workstations were. Everybody else made it out fine, for the most part.
I mean, sure, a couple others got injured, including myself, but for the most part it was a pretty harmless accident. Unless you count the fact that it very nearly forced the Japanese branch to be dissolved, of course.
Look, if you have any more questions, save them for after I finish the story, alright? It's getting annoying having to take a break from telling it to you when you keep asking me things. The only reason I stopped there was because I saw your worried expression at my use of past tense. You probably thought that you'd gotten incorrect or even false reports, right?
That's what I thought. Now, no more questions until I'm completely done, okay? Okay.
Now, back to the story once more.
***
“Well, at least you didn’t get into much trouble,” Gato said.
“Well, Hachigoro is usually a nice guy. I think he mostly just gave me a talking to for protocol’s sake rather than feeling a need to. After last night, I think he’d be willing to pardon any amount of tardiness,” I replied.
“God, don’t remind me. The alcohol they served tasted like shit, but holy hell was it strong,” the tod said. He grimaced, smacking his lips as if trying to get rid of a bad taste. “Ugh, I can practically still taste it.”
“It was pretty gross,” I agreed. “I mean, it does the job of getting ya drunk, sure, but how people managed to drink enough to get drunk in the first place boggles my mind.”
“Need I remind you that you were one of those people?” Gato commented.
“So were you,” I fired back.
“Touché.”
Both of us laughed, then went back to eating. I was unashamedly a slurper. While in America it might seem rude, apparently in Japan it’s a sign that you like your food and is considered rude not to slurp. Also, it makes the noodles taste better. Hooray for bad table manners, eh?
When we were done (and by “we” I mean “I” because Gato got done like two minutes after I sat down) we both stood. I clapped my friend and former mentor on the back, a grin on my muzzle, and he returned the gesture. “See ya soon,” I said.
“Try not to make it in a body bag,” Gato joked.
“Same for you,” I replied. It was something of a joke amongst us. The less dangerous a job was considered to be, the more often we said it. For something where all we had to do was stand around and looked tough, you can imagine if got said plenty.
Neither of us knew it was about to be put to the test.
As I stepped into the command room and made to walk over to my spot, an empty seat caught my gaze. I tilted my head and walked over to it, looking at the screen. I blinked when I read what it said, then turned my head towards Hachigoro. “Yo, Hachi, who mans this station?” I asked.
“A timber wolf, if I recall,” the elk replied. “Is something wrong?”
“You mean besides the fact he’s not at his station?” I asked in reply. The elk grunted. “This computer says there’s a problem with the PDS.”
“The Point Defense System?” one of the techies, a weasel, asked. Don’t ask why a reactor had a PDS, because I couldn’t tell you. It boggles my mind too.
“That is correct,” I replied.
“Go check it out. I’ll alert the other Security Teams,” Hachigoro said. I dipped my head, then turned and jogged from the room. When I moved into the hallway, I shifted into a full on sprint. If something was wrong with the PDS, that meant there was something wrong with the reactor. If there was something wrong with the reactor, then...well, everybody in the vicinity of the facility could kiss their ass and their neighbor’s asses goodbye.
The door to the reactor room opened and I walked in. After doing a detailed physical investigation of the reactor's shell, I was able to deduce that the problem was inside the shell, but (hopefully) between it and the reactor itself.
There was a crawlspace to allow for maintenance workers to fix problems inside the shell protecting the reactor. It was accessed by a simple hatch with a very obvious warning – as in, the word 'warning' in big, red, bold letters. And also completely capitalized; you know, in case the big, red, bold lettering didn't get your attention.
I set the panel to the side and ducked into the crawlspace, a frown on my muzzle. I walked around the reactor, but didn't find any obvious – or even obscure – errors with the systems. I felt worry settle inside me as I realized it must have been something inside the reactor. If that was the case, then it should registered instead of coming up as a PDS error. The only explanation for why would be–
I felt my eyes widen. ”Oh shit,” I whispered. I stood there for a few seconds before I turned and bolted for the hatch to the crawlspace. I slid through it and got an arm to the throat as I came up, resulting in me flipping onto my back and landing a couple feet away.
I had been moving pretty quickly.
I gasped and choked as I rolled over and attempted to stand, only to receive a harsh kick to the side. I flipped over, using the chance to roll away from my attacker and stand. I raised my arms in a defensive posture, only to be caught off guard by a harsh kick to the stomach that sent my stumbling back. I managed to get a good enough look at them to see they were a timber wolf, however, which told me all I needed to know.
We had a saboteur on our paws.
***
W-what did I just tell you five minutes ago? I told you to leave the questions until the end of the story, and here you are, asking questions! Yes, alright, the whole “terrorist saboteur that infiltrated a high security reactor plant tries to blow up said reactor plant” is cliché, but that's what happened, okay!? If you're going to keep interrupting me, then at least do it when the story is on a cool down, for Christ's sake!
No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry for snapping. This is just a stressful story, and I hate being interrupted, so it's just making it worse. I mean it, it's fine. Just...please try and keep the questions until I'm done, if you can. I'll be more than willing to answer your questions when I'm done, if they aren't answered by what unfolds in the story.
Thank you. Now where was I...
***
My eyes widened when I saw a pipe wrench in the wolf's paw. That was gonna do some damage if it connected, there was no denying that. The only good thing was that a pipe wrench packs some weight behind it, therefore making it slow and clumsy as a weapon if you don't practice with it.
Yes, I know people that do practice with a pipe wrench. They say it's an effective weapon in a pinch, but it seems much too clumsy to me.
The wolf swung the wrench, which I barely managed to dodge. I was still partially winded from both the throat and abdomen hits, which you wouldn't think being winded would slow your movements so badly, but if you say that then you've never been winded before. It sucks.
I closed the distance between us and sent a couple solid blows into the wolf's midsection, eliciting a grunt from him before I danced back as quickly as I could. True, I could stay close so he couldn't effectively maneuver the wrench, but I also wanted to tire him out. Unless he was some kind of endurance god, then that wouldn't take too long with him flinging such a large weapon around.
Er, no, that is not a euphemism.
I leaned back as the wrench came at me again, backing away. The wolf advanced, swinging away as hard and often as he could. I simply dodged the wrench with ease, a small smirk forming on my muzzle as the wolf began to pant. I made to dodge back as the wolf swung again, only to bump into the wall. I blinked, caught off guard, and took the wrench head to the shoulder.
A scream tore from my mouth as the impact shattered my shoulder. I stumbled to the side, tears in my eyes and sobs escaping me. The wolf grinned, raising the wrench above his head. His arms tensed as he moved to bring it down and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Three gunshots sounded in quick succession, and a couple seconds later the sound of the wrench clattering to the ground made me open my eyes slowly. Gato stood a couple feet behind the wolf, a New Nambu M57 in his paws. The nine millimeter pistol was shaking as the tod himself shook. It wasn't from shock, like I remember initially thinking; I later came to find out it was rage that caused his body to shake like that.
The timber wolf collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around him as he let out grunts of pain. I stared at him, slowly pulling the sobs under control as Gato rushed over to me. He holstered the pistol and crouched down, reaching out to grab me but thinking better of it. He finally sighed and asked, “You okay?”
“Aside from my fucked up shoulder, you mean?” I replied. “Yeah, I'm fine.”
“C'mon, let's get you out of here,” Gato said, grabbing the front of my security outfit to lift me up. I let him, though my paw slipped a knife from its holster on his side when he did. As he approached the door, I roughly pulled from his grip and spun, sending a kick into his back that sent him stumbling across the threshold. I slammed the knife into the door control, then watched as it closed. Gato pounded on the door, his mouth opening and closing as he shouted. I couldn't hear him, but I could guess as to what he was saying.
Probably weren't compliments.
I turned away from the tod and walked over to the wolf, grabbing his shoulder with my good arm and pulling. He flipped onto his back, letting out a gasp as he did so. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer to me. “What did you do?” I shouted.
“You can't fix it anyway, Agent Oberon.” The wolf spat out my designation as if it were a curse. Fine by me. Gave me a chance to get rough, and if I'm being honest, I missed that.
I lifted the wolf off the ground and slammed him back down, a yelp escaping him as the bullets inside his upper body shifted. He was still bleeding, so I couldn't be too rough, but I knew what I was doing. “I don't want to fix it,” I snarled.
“Good. That means you know it's a lost cause,” the wolf replied. “Besides, there's no way you could have the know-how to reverse a chain reaction meltdown.”
I grinned. “You're right. I don't know how to reverse it. But you didn't let me finish,” I said. “I don't want, or even need to fix it. I just need to dampen it.”
The wolf's cocky demeanor vanished at that. His grin reappeared quickly, but his heart wasn't in it. “That'd be suicide to somebody without the proper equipment,” he said.
“Gonna die anyway; might as well die doing something to ensure others don't,” I replied. The timber wolf blinked, as if surprised by my response. I don't think he expected me to care about the other workers.
The wolf's expression softened briefly. “I underestimated you, Agent Oberon,” he said.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“I'm serious. You agents have a reputation, and yet, here you are, trying to do the right thing when you easily could have escaped and doomed so many others.” The wolf's words made me pause. For somebody that had tried to kill me (and succeeded in breaking my shoulder), he was awfully kind.
I looked at the wolf, a small smile on my muzzle. “The temptation was there, I'll admit. Nobody is perfectly good; we all have our selfish desires. But that's not what makes somebody good. What makes you a good person is doing the right thing regardless,” I said. “So that's what I'm going to do. Even if I have to die, if it saves just one person, then that's fine by me.”
There was silence from the wolf for a long moment as he just stared at me. Eventually, he let out an amused huff and gestured to the reactor. “Good luck, then,” he said. I dipped my head and stood, turning and ducking to enter the crawlspace. I paused, then turned towards the wolf.
“What's your name?” I asked. The wolf blinked, then chuckled.
“Hagiwara. Tadasuke Hagiwara,” he said.
“Takabe. Isei Takabe,” I replied, dipping my head. He returned the gesture. I turned and ducked into the crawlspace.
I searched and searched everywhere I could think of, and eventually found the issue. It was just a simple pressure buildup. A little anticlimactic, sure, but effective if you hide it long enough. And as the wolf had said, it was to the point that it couldn't be reversed. And like I had said, I didn't need to reverse it, just dampen it and mitigate the explosion.
So, I got to work.
***
Hmm? Oh, you want to know why the wolf was so affable, don't ya? Don't lie, I can see it in your eyes.
To tell you the truth, I don't know. Maybe he realized he'd made a mistake, maybe he just realized that he didn't want to kill anybody like he'd thought. I never really found out the full answer, and I doubt that I ever will. All that matters is that I managed to do what I set out to do.
How'd it end, you ask? Well, officially, the reactor went and me and Tadasuke were killed in the explosion. Truthfully? Well, I can't tell ya.
Look, there's a reason that I can't tell you. If I did, then that'd be a violation of at least five different signed and processed documents, not to mention breaking the trust of one of my friends. However, my friend isn't bound down by those documents, so if you want the truth, then you should ask him.
His name? Well, that should be obvious. It's Agent Gato. I mean, I wouldn't recommend being brash and always asking questions like you did with me. You do that and he'll paint the walls with you.
I can see it in your expression that you don't believe me. That's fine; I don't need you to believe me right now. You will when it happens. Of that, I promise you.
As for me? Well, it just so happens that I have something I need to go do. I'd say it was nice talking to you, but that would be a lie. See ya.