Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“WRONG USERNAME AND/OR PASSWORD” flashes against my eyes. My head vibrates like a bobble toy as a low ringing buzz pounds into my ears. 

I drop to my knees and curl up into a ball.

Nearl kneels beside me. She rubs my back as she pours healing arts into me. The buzzing. It bounces in my skull. Aak cackles as he monitors my symptoms. 

It’s our fifth attempt in the control centre. We should have five more left. Amiya sighs and Doberman pats her shoulder gently.

“Five unsuccessful attempts to log in” flashes before my eyes. I run over to the jack and plug it into my visor. Greythroat slides over to a control panel and starts to screencap what is appearing on the monitors. Amiya and Doberman turn around.

“DOCTOR 000 ACCOUNT WILL DESTRUCT IN 1 MINUTE.”

Amiya’s face pales. Doberman clenches onto her whip. 50 seconds to go.

“There’s no stopping it,” I yell. Projekt Red speeds over and wrenches the visor off my face. She examines it as she holds it gingerly by her fingertips. She curls around it with her body, while making sure not to wrench the visor away from the jack.

40 seconds to go.

Greythroat and Aak are typing rapidly, trying to find a second authentication system, anything to delay the self-destruct. 

“Is it backed it up?” asks Aak loudly.

“Yes,” says Amiya as she presses tightly on her rings, “It won’t self destruct physically” she says uncertainty lining her voice. Projekt Red curls up around the visor even more, her bright red coat causing her to resemble an ori-slug. Nearl runs over to Projekt Red, her hands glowing with healing arts, ready to pour.

I hide my smile and pull the sides of my hoodie over my face. The faint heat of the originum warms my cheeks. 

30 seconds to go.

They’re still typing. I pull the sides of my hoodie over my face harder. 

“We’ll have to leave the Doctor’s research to Silence and Warfarin,” says Doberman to Amiya, “We’ve spent enough resources trying to enter the Doctor’s original account.”

20 seconds to go.

Amiya nods, her fingers rotating her rings, faster and faster,  

10 seconds to go.

“Anything essential was already obtained,” says Amiya, “It’s just that there may have been something more. In their private archives.”

0 seconds.

“DOCTOR000 ACCOUNT HAS BEEN DELETED.”

Aak leans back on the chair with a frustrated groan. Greythroat sighs. Projekt Red uncurls from my visor and hands it back to me. 

“I deal with bodies,” snaps Aak. 

“It’s fine Aak, there’s a back up, ” says Amiya, “We will get Ch’en to lead the project. Her team has people who specialize in data recovery.”

I snap the visor over my hoodie and let loose my grin.

 There will be nothing for them to find. After all, I corrupted the old account.  Let them think the corruption was as a result of trying to crack into the account. Let them think it was the Old Doctor. 

I pull out the jack and swipe my fingers over the left to log back into my account.

“Welcome Doctor001!”

I sigh in relief and put a hand on Amiya’s shoulder.

Amiya nods gently at me. 

“(・・、)ヾ” emotes on my visor.

“We’ll get through this. We’ve gotten through worse,” I say. Amiya gives me a wobbly smile. 

The Doctor is dead now. They can’t find the Doctor. They can only find me.

There’s only me. Doctor001.

No more Doctor000.

Amiya looks at me with that look in her eyes, just above my head – where my eyes would be if I was standing up straight.

I remember when she looked at me like that. When we first tried to collectively open up Doctor000. A few days before we arrived at Lungmen outskirts.

I take a seat at the back of the Control Centre and look for that video file. It was one of my very first files, swipe. Swipe. Swipe.

Oh no there’s that stupid video of Midnight trying to prove to all of us he can drink a whole bottle of vodka while Rosa puts him to shame. 

There we go

I drum three fingers on my visor to minimize play it with subtitles. No volume. It’s hard to distinguish between visor and life sound. I don’t want anyone to realize I’m rewatching my memories. I spin around on my chair. 

I see myself, a small pillbug curled up on the floor.

Amiya sighs loudly.

“I think we should move on with the Doctor’s combat training,” said Amiya overly loudly. I sat up. Doberman and Amiya nod to Projekt Red. Projekt Red nods at them and slink offs. 

Back then my main base assistant was Amiya. She still acts as my primary assistant. She hasn’t said a word of complaint against any of the other base assistants I’ve put into the roles. 

“Well, here’s all the arm movements Projekt Red saw when she saw the Doctor unlock their phone,” said Doberman as she points to a monitor, “We’ll gather more information first though.”

“Why?” I ask.

“The Doctor said that they rigged their phone to blow up after 10 attempts,” said Amiya a bit wistfully, “We’re on attempt 3 now.”

“Oh,” I said as I flop back on the ground. Amiya stares at me sadly as I lie down on the ground face first.

I pause the memory temporarily. Amiya’s eyes hurt to look at. 

Even if I justify it as I was actually moving my eyes to trigger the panel apps, it still hurts to look at me looking like that. Not that I could even do much with the panel apps. I didn’t get an actual account until much later. I could access the camera app but not the gallery app. Could access the volume app but not the settings apps.  

Past me is a bastard. A paranoid bastard who believes that multiple factor authentication, as a minimum, was a great idea.

I hate the past me that they talk to when they talk to me.

I hate the past me that the psychologists have difficulty not projecting over me.  I took eye shots of their preliminary reports when they thought I wasn’t looking. Severe retrograde amnesia.

I hate the past me that Amiya tries her best not to talk to.

I know it is what Amiya sees when she looks up over my head, where my eyes would be if I was standing at full, proper posture, when she thinks I’m fiddling with my Emotivisor.

I sigh, my orgy of self hatred threatening to consume my thoughts. I click play on the memory again.

“We’ll set up Doctor up as a new user on PRTS. Amiya can you set up the new account on the terminal?” said Doberman as she stood up and stretched.

I lift my head up.

“Get up Doctor,” said Doberman firmly but encouragingly.

I let my slumped body lie there for a few seconds more. I sat up.

“;____;” emotes on my visor.

Oh this was embarrassing. This was when the visor was still on auto emote.

“I know it’s frustrating,” said Doberman , in that gentle tone she reserved only for Beagle and it appears – me, “You’re currently on Guest Mode with PRTS. We’ll have to set you up as a new user,”.

“???” flashes.

“Right now, you’re a new operator put in command. We need to evaluate where your skills are at and what you can do before you head to Lungmen. We don’t know how your amnesia affects or impacts your combat potential,” said Doberman patiently.

 Amiya’s uncertain smile stays on her face a tad too long. She looks like she’s in rigor mortis.

I stood up.

“From Chernborg, we know you can take on command – no problem. We’ll put you through a course of tactics and strategy to bring you up to speed ” said Doberman, “Your physical health isn’t bad considering but there’s definite room for improvement there. We’re going to test out your arts today. Amiya is here as your arts measurer.”

“???” flashes again.

“I know what you’re capable of Doctor,” says Amiya, “I probably have the best idea of how your arts operate. You’ve been casting based on instinct since you’re currently wearing your casting medium.”

I point toward my jacket. Amiya nods at me.

“You cast teleportation arts using your jacket as the medium. Your jacket and hood are lined with origimum. You can teleport and deploy operators on and off the field,” said Amiya as she twisted one of her rings, around and around her finger. “You use your drones through Priestess to give you intel and a better range of sight to place operators when you teleport them.”

“There are limits to your arts,” said Amiya, “It appears you can only teleport operators and their weapons if you know their exact dimensions. We have a full body scale on the transvec for this. You can only deploy one operator at a time.”

“Some operators are easier for you to teleport than others – casters, guards and defenders take you longer to work out. if you can’t teleport them, your arts don’t operate at all so we don’t have to worry about accidents. You can only teleport a certain number of people onto a field but you can teleport them on and off the field at any time.”

“Why would I be teleporting them on and off? Apart from strategic retreats?” I asked.

“ Well what you can do is if an operator is running low on health, teleport them off the battlefield then get the medics to heal them up and then teleport them back onto the field,” said Amiya slowly.

“Seems a bit brutal,” I said off handedly.

Amiya and Doberman gave each other a look.

“You said it was efficient,” said Amiya slowly, “And the operators you will be able to use in your squad have all consented to that course of action should you see fit to do so in command.”

“Well whatever works,” I said with a shrug, “And if they’ve consented then I have,”

“Well, not all the operators have consented,” said Amiya hesitantly, “But we’ll discuss that when we visit HR. ”

“Now Doctor, I would like you to teleport me into the training room that your drones are currently focusing their range of sight on.”

My jacket glows blue. My left hand is outstretched and slides across my visor.

Amiya disappears.

Doberman’s smiling.

I clench my fist and open it slowly. I look dazed and amazed.

I hit pause on that memory and stare at my fists. I remember the little prayer I made then.

I prayed that the lining of my jacket would never split into my body. That my many layers will protect me should my outer jacket spilt.

I prayed that Amiya would never find out that I don’t know how I’m casting these arts.

I prayed that Rhode Island will never find out that the only thing I can do is cast these arts.

I prayed that no one dies because they believed in me when they shouldn’t.

Chapter Text

It’s 3AM.  I’m awake.

The low hum of my drones, the glow of blue strip lights running about the ceiling and the murmur of the ventilation system build up in my ears. The light footsteps of a returning operator tap outside my door. The sound courses through my veins. 

I turn over. The mobile base will arrive at Lungmen in the morning. My room is as dark as I am comfortable with. 

I turn over. 

My standard issue cotton pajamas rustle against my skin. This patchy knowledge I have- what should I do? What should I be? 

I don't know.

From what I was told, I spent the majority of the year sleeping. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep anymore. I better not let Gavial hear that thought.  I can’t relax in these standard issue cotton pajamas. They feel too soft. 

I get out of my bunk and rummage around in the cupboard next to my bunk. There it is. I pop my visor over my head. "OwO" emotes on my visor. I have only had this visor for a few days but it is a part of me now. I refuse to emote without it.  

I wander out into my office. I suppose it is pretty empty - Amiya took away all of the cardboard boxes. There’s a few bookshelves, a desk with a touch monitor and a chair that I chucked my casting jacket on. There’s also a few other monitors mounted to the walls. 

I lay down on the floor, my face up to the ceiling. It feels good on my back. I slide my fingers against my visor and open up my mailbox. One new message. It’s from Amiya. I open it up. There’s an attachment, a dossier on Lungmen. 

I quickly scan through the document. It is a neutral enough document but there are lines in between it. That is something, future me, can worry about. I flick a copy of it to a wall monitor where it glows there, slightly reproachfully.

I close my mailbox and open up the Rhodes Island Social Network. There’s 20 friend requests already. That was fast. Guess they want to get on my good side. If I didn't know better I would definitely think I’m popular. 

"The old you was useful," says a nagging voice in my head. I grit my teeth. I accept Amiya, Doberman and Dr Kal'tsit's connection requests. 

I sit up and open up a quick coding app. I might as well do something for myself. Let’s start creating a network map based off the social network. Names. Faces. Associations that the operators seem a part of. 

Amiya knows Dobermann, Dr Kal'tsit and I. The reserve teams are better off linked to Dobermann since she’s the principal trainer. I link my icon up to Dr Kal’tsit’s and snicker. She definitely knew me but she doesn’t know me now. I quickly code the icons to link back to the HR files. I look back at the list of friend requests. I recognize half of their names though, from the HR office stint I did this morning with Doberman and Amiya.

I flop back over to the floor and crawl over to a wall monitor.  I’ve started recording everything I see. I know that my memory loss seems to only affect my past but not my present. I know that. Feeling it is different.

Having all these videos comforts me. Knowing that if I wake up and I’m no longer a Doctor, I can learn what the Doctor was. 

I plug the USB-F cord sticking out of the monitor to my visor. I play the video from the morning. Amiya’s face, albeit distorted, appears on the screen. 

“It’s timely that a lot of our security contracts are expiring now,” said Amiya, “We can hire specific security company personnel as secondment staff rather than hiring the entire firm.”

The HR Director guffaws and snorts slightly. “I’ll take care of that Amiya. We’ll get the best. My team is currently working on Doctor’s Squad recruitment.”

“Doctor’s squad? So my squad?” I say uneasily. 

“It is something I discussed with HR and Dobermann,” says Amiya soothingly, “The Doctor’s Squad are any operators who have given their consent to arts teleportation and are prepared to follow your command.”

“It’s been hard finding operators for it,” says the HR Doctor, “ So when you get more operators, we would love it if you could assign one of the Doctor's Squad members to the HR Office. Just so they can tell those we're trying to recruit, what it is really like being part of the Doctor's Squad. When they get more training, they can handle the HR issues for the Doctor's Squad. For now, we’ve put together a list for you to recruit from. It is ordered by star level.”

“Star level?” I ask.

“All Operators are evaluated on the basis of their strength and potential growth. One star is for non combat personnel. Two star operators don’t usually engage in direct combat but they are authorized to take missions in combat zones. Three star operators are our reservists and are authorized to undergo combat in combat zones. Four star operators form the bulk of our combat forces. They have either a direct or a secondment contact with us. Five star and six star operators are our elite forces - they either act as leaders in the field, can be solo operators in combat zones or have a specialized contract. ”  

“I do the evaluation and tests with HR,” says Dobermann, “The responsibility for training the future of Rhodes Island is on my shoulders and I will do my best to be worthy.”

I pause the video and go through my gallery. I expand a photo of the candidates for “The Doctor’s Squad.” 

I wonder if they know they’re being teleported by an amensic who doesn’t know what they’re doing. I hope they don’t. I scroll down the bottom of the list - the 6 star code name people should be famous. I pull up a search engine. I close my eyes and touch a name randomly. Let’s look it up! “Silverash,” I murmur as I type. 

Wow, so many search results. Newspaper articles. Karlan Trading’s official website. A few articles on the evils of unchecked warlords. A few articles about how Kjerg is ruled by warlords. A glowing epdia article. 

“So why would a probable warlord consent to teleportation?” I asked myself.

Not something I felt like pondering that morning. It’s probably political anyway.

I click a link at random. It is a Columbian news site with an article on Karlan Trading and Silverash. It’s a puff piece, this man obviously has money and a PR firm. I click the main header and hit the home page.  There's a piece about Amiya and Rhodes Island on the front page. Let’s read it. 

Hmmm its a piece on Chernobog. I click “play” on the video. Amiya’s giving a press conference - her answers are assured and confident as she stresses the humanitarian values and mission of Rhodes Island. 

“There is still a lot of work to be done,” she says, “But Rhodes Island will walk on this path. We await further liaison with the Empire of Ursus.” 

“What does Rhode Island has to say about allegations that they were extracting The Doctor of Babel - a war criminal of Kazdel?” says one journalist.

“Our teams were hard at work while under attack from Reunion,” says Amiya reproachfully , “Our teams were focused on the mission at hand - to extract civilians and provide aid. That was our primary priority.”  

“How do you account for the fact that the terrorists who were auctioning off the Doctor of Babel fell silent after Rhodes Island entered Chernobog?”

“The City of Chernobog was in dire need of assistance,” says Amiya, “Reunion had destroyed the majority of the communication networks while the following catastrophe crippled any remaining infrastructure. Rhode Island was forced to retreat with any survivors. The situation as it was, it was a miracle that we were able to extract up to one thousand people. We have already begun our resettl-”

I turn off the video and lie down on the floor.

Well. It does kinda explain the sarcophagus? Kind of? I don’t think so.  Am I just a terrorist being held hostage in a deep sleep being auctioned by a group of terrorists to another group of terrorists?  It’s terrorists all the way down I guess.

I get up from the floor. I need to go for a walk. I grab my jacket and walk out of my office.

The base is glowing blue for the night time.  I am a ghost with my oversized black jacket. I am a ghost right now. Old me hangs over me like a ghost. I don't know what to do or the me I found out I might be. 

I don't think I can handle anything more political than a donut. 

I need bright lights and doughnuts. Catapult and Midnight told me about the trading post kitchen - where they hid all the sugar they sourced from Dobermann. I need sugar.
 

I walk out to the Dorm One Area. I’m not sure why we have Dorms when we have given all in house operators their own rooms. I’m not sure where the non-inhouse operators stay - maybe at the hospital. No one uses the Dorms anyway – they need to be cleared out by drones – they’re filled with rubbish. But they are bright, the dorms are bright.

I play a video on the side of my monitor. 

"It'll be alright Doctor. I can protect you now," says little video Amiya. 

She can’t. She can’t. She’s lying to me. I stretch out and almost hit a little ursus girl, sitting by the bright lights. She ignores me. 

What can I chew to relieve my teeth?

I rummage around and pick up a carbon rod. I start gnawing on it.

“That’s no good!” says the young girl. I look to the side, she seems like one of the ursus girls that was in the sickbay with me. There were 5 of them, two of them required urgent treatment out of the civilians and the other three weren’t that far behind. 

I keep gnawing on the carbon rod. It feels good grating against my teeth. She swats it ineffectively out of my hand twice. On the third attempt, she slaps it out of my hand and it goes flying.

“I was eating that!” I say indignantly.

“You can’t eat that!” she says in a loud whisper, “I know you’re hungry but some things you just can’t eat.”

She’s crouching, making her body much smaller than it should be. She’s a small blond ursus girl  - was she small for her age or small because of Chernoborg? I decide not to answer that question.

 She’s dressed in a hospital gown with a standard issue black jacket thrown over. I look at her hospital bracelet and blink rapidly twice. The photo pops up.

“Paдa. ”

My tummy rumbles. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask her suddenly.

She stares at me then nods.

“Just a little bit,” she says.Her eyes get wider. It’s a bit disconcerting.

"Do you want to get snacks with me?" I ask 

“Ansel’s not letting us have snacks outside of meals right now,” she says uncertainly.

“Ansel’s not letting me have snacks either. Come on, we’ll go to a kitchen,” I say. I blink three times and a map of Rhode island pulls up.

There's a bit of a noise. Two young Ursus girls in hospital gowns walk inside.

"Lada!" hisses the brown haired girl.

"Let's go back," says the blue haired girl. 

"Who are you?" I say.

The two Ursus girls glare at me then ignore me. The blue haired one links her arm with Leda’s. The brown haired girl stands in front of the two, in a fighting stance.

My fingers click. “LLOLOLOLOL” emotes on my visor. “Hospital girls!” I exclaim.

 The brown haired girl raises her fists protectively. 

“I’m the Doctor, ” I say, "I'm going to get snacks. You can either join me or go back to the hospital."

The brown haired girl bristles at me. Lada puts her hand on her. "They were in the sickbay with us Sonya," said Lada softly.

The brown haired girl glares at me. "We're going back," she says determinedly. 

The blue hair girl nodded. "It is best we stick to the diet we have been assigned," she says rather primly to me. 

“It is exactly as you say, Anna," says Ansel as he enters the room. He shakes his head at me. 

“: P” emotes on my visor. 

“Doctor, you shouldn’t have night snacks,” scolds Ansel, “Leda, you should be in bed. Come on girls, let’s go back.”

“No,” says Lada in a small voice, “I’m staying here.”

The two girls look closely at Lada. They lean next to her coaxing her. Lada curls into a ball and rocks back and forth, back and forth, her body jerking in racking sobs. She’s trembling and shaking. Anna kneels by Lada.

“Lada, Sonya and I are here,” she says loudly, “We’re here. We’re here in the light.”

Ansel kneels by Lada. “Lada, have you had panic attacks before?” asks Ansel calmly. Lada shakes her head.

“She’s been like this before,” says Sonya tensely. Ansel nods his head.  I don’t say anything – what can I say?

“Lada - Sonya and Anna are here,” says Ansel, “You’re safe here. We’re here with you.”

Lada gasps for air rapidly.

“I know this is scary but we’re here with you. How can we help you?” asks Ansel.

“Light,” gasps Lada.

“We’ll stay here. We’ll stay here until you feel like you want to move,” says Ansel, “Sonya could you help clear the area?”

Sonya nods and starts clearing up the carbon rods. I turn on my drone panel and activate some of my drones. My drones come buzzing over and start clearing up the debris. I send one drone over to shine a bright light near Lada. Lada can’t respond as she struggles to breathe, the racking sobs drawing out all breath from her body. Ansel talks calmly and soothingly at her. 

“Is it the light?” I ask. The three of them look at me. “Was your room dark? Did you turn off the lights?” I persist.

Anna and Sonya nod their head.

“Lada said,” says Anna in a small voice that trails off.

“That could be it,” says Ansel. Lada’s sobs have started to die off. 

 “Lada, can I pick you up?” asks Ansel, “I’ll like to take you back to your room. We’ll put the lights on for you.”

“I can carry her,” says Sonya quickly. Ansel shakes his head. Lada shakes her head.

“I’ll send my drone with you,” I say, “It’ll light up the way back to the hospital. You can use it until Ansel gets you a night light.”

Lada shakily picks up the drone. The bright light illuminates her face and the tears streaked down her cheeks. She nods hesitantly. Ansel lifts Lada up - he has a lot more strength than I suspected. Ansel smiles at me sadly.

“Thank you Doctor, we’ll return the drone to you in Lungmen,” he says. He carries Lada in his arms and walks away slowly, allowing her friends to walk behind them protectively. 

I watch them walk away before I glide softly down the corridor. I still need my sugar and donuts. 

It is 5AM and I am still awake. 

Chapter Text

“You can have the following rooms, Doctor,” says Amiya. She leans over the table so she can point to a map on the table monitor. “A reception room, a workshop, a control centre, a training room, HR office, lifts, 4 of the spare group dormitory rooms and hmmm 9 spare rooms for you to turn into either power plants, factories and trading posts as you see fit.”

“You’ll have to collect your own resources to clear out those rooms though,” says Dr Kal’tsit by video link, “Management and development of your facility will be left to you, subject to Closure’s approval regarding remodelling and refurbishment.”

A drone buzzes around me. I look upwards at the video recording drone.  “Hmmm, it’s going to take a lot of LMD,” I say.

“All of which you’ll have to generate yourself,” says Dr Kal’tsit, “There’s nothing in this year’s budget which will accommodate modifying the Doctor’s Squad rooms.”

“As long as I get full control over LMD generated by my section,” I say lazily.

“Of course. Operator training and ranks will still be through the usual channels. The training fees will go into the Rhode Island Operators Insurance Fund. Amiya will assist you in managing that,” says Doctor Kal’tsit.

I swipe on my monitor and look at my LMD. It's only 30000LMD. Oh it’s painful being poor. All my operators keep eating up my resources and my money. Even as mobile cities rise and fall and political crises come to a head, my operators still need to be fed battle records and promotions.

“Finally!” cries out Kroos. Fang and Beagle lean over Kroos to stare through the window. We’re descending. My ears pop slightly as the pilot maneuvers us down back to base. I stare at the carbon rod in my lap. The other carbon rods are in the cargo hold. 

Silence sits next to me, she’s quietly scrubbing blood off one of her drone units. I fiddle with the carbon rod in my hands and slowly lift it towards my visor. Silence’s head quickly snaps around to face me. She stares at me, unblinkingly. 

I slowly put the carbon rod down.  “Good Doctor,” she says as her head snaps back to focus on her medical drone. 

I sigh and slink down as far as I can go. The seatbelt restrains me. I flick through my offline material. There’s another dossier on Lungmen and Karlan politics written by Dobermann. I’ve read through it and I understand it but I’m no good at the political stuff. I flick through my videos instead. 

“The Doctor might as well go on that carbon mission,” says Dr Kal’tsit in her Lungmen hotel room. 

Amiya doesn’t react. 

“( ○ 人´∀｀) ” flashes on my visor. 

“The Doctor will be of no use in the preliminary negotiations. It would be more beneficial if they obtained combat experience and camaraderie with their squad while we have time,” says Dr Kal’tsit.

“It’ll be a valuable experience for the Doctor,” says Amiya holding her hands tightly.

“For the later discussions, yes. At the moment, it would be more important for the Doctor to work with their Lungmen squad prior to having to act in Lungmen.”

I stare at Amiya with “ {◕ ◡ ◕}” on my visor. Amiya twists her rings on her fingers for a few seconds before she takes a deep breath. 

“You can go,” says Amiya, her voice catching slightly in her throat. “But on a 30 minute carbon mission nearby. I’ll meet you in my office when you get back. We’ll head back to Lungmen together, that should speed up the re-entry process.”

 
“You may now take off your seatbelts. Rhodes Island thanks you,” says the Pilot. I unclip myself and stand up. I rush out of the transport vehicle. Fang, Kroos and Beagle rush behind me.

“This way Doctor,” says Fang gently with a hand on my shoulder. She leads me to the exit of the helipad as Kroos and Beagle chatter to one another. Silence follows us, entirely silent. An operator leads us to the entrance where they tap our lanyards or palms to the pass. I stretch - it was a short helicopter trip but it felt limiting to my limbs.

“You’re all dismissed,” I say, “I’ll be carrying my babies to Factory 1 and then I’ll see you in Lungmen.” Silence nods at me and wanders off. Oh yeah, I’ve scheduled her in the Factory. 

“Let me help you carry the carbon rods back Doctor,” says Fang. I shake my head.

“We’re not letting you eat the carbon rods!” says Kroos, her finger wagging in mock disapproval.

“I can help you carry the rods,” says Beagle hesitantly.

I shrug and nod. The three of them smile at me and take me to the Cargo Drop Off Zone. 

“I’ll go get a trolley,” says Fang quickly as she bustles off. Kroos wags her finger at me in mock disapproval as the carbon rod slowly approaches my mouth. Fang comes back with a Delivery Trolley. The girls nod at her and bustle to the cargo zone, loading up the trolley with the rods. I stand up to help them when Fang stops me.

“You’re still not allowed to do heavy lifting,” says Fang. I tilt my head in confusion.

“Master Dobermann gave us instructions,” says Fang sternly. 

“ (－‸ლ) ” flashes on my visor.

“She also said that you’re to visit Amiya in her office when we’ve finished transporting the rods back,” said Fang. I shrug. 

“And we’re to tell you that,” says Kroos with a lazy grin on her face as she arranges the rods on the trolley. 

Beagle comes up, panting slightly, dust marks on her long skirt.  “That’s the last one,” she says, panting. I nod and wave my hands in the air.

“Off to the Factory!” I call out as I stride off. 

The Rhodes Island mobile base is huge. A few Doctor’s Squad candidates nod at me as we walk through the base. Fang pushes the trolley as Beagle and Kroos make sure it isn’t veering off too much. My facilities are all on the left side of the mobile base. I’ve only had enough resources to excavate the first level so far but I’ve got a factory up and running. 

“Oh Doctor,” says Kroos as we’re walking.

“Yes?”

“I really wanted to speak to you about my schedule,” she says in a wheedling tone. 

“What about it?” I ask.

“Well, you’ve put me on so many Factory shifts,” she says, “I was wondering whether you could just give me a bit of a break? We’ve got more training with Master Dobermann.”

“Higher pay means higher duties. And you don’t have a second job unlike Silence,” I say in a sing-song voice, my visor facing her, “I’ll reschedule you if you can prove you have other commitments.”

Beagle quivers slightly. I turn around and see Lappland. She’s standing in front of Amiya’s office - or rather to the side. She gives the wall a deep sniff, scrunches her nose and shrugs her shoulders. Lappland  turns around and smiles at me. “Evening Doctor,” she says cheerfully, facing me, “I’ve just been cleared for duty on your squad. I’ll see you on the battlefield soon.”

I shiver slightly and emote “O w O ” on my visor. “I’ll see you soon then. What are you doing in front of Amiya’s office?” I ask. 

“Smelling,” she says lightly, “There’s something that shouldn’t belong here. It smells like roses… like Shining actually.”

“How do you know what Shining smells like?” I ask curiously.

"She's my primary healer,” says Lappland, “She kicked my ass a few times too and she’s not too mouthy.”
 

“Mouthy?” I ask. 

“All medics are mouthy - even the rocky ones. Healers shut up and get on with it,” groans Lappland, “Then there’s that little purple girl with her curing cuisine. She’s the real terror with her food.”

“Well I’m off Doctor,” she says as she waves at me, “I’ll see you once HR finishes up the paperwork.” Lappland walks off and the three girls relax slightly. 

“What's wrong?” I ask. Neither of the girls respond as we walk down until Fang clears her throat slightly. 

“She's a bit scary," says Fang guardedly. 

“So are you on the Battlefield,” I point out. I stare at the girls as they walk. They’re so strong. They’re young but I’ve been making them kill over and over again on the battlefield but they seem fairly self composed. Is it because it is just a job to them? Or is it because I’m taking on the morality of death for them?

"Battle and normal scary are different," says Fang, "also…. She's a freer."

"Freer?" 

"She’s stage three," says Fang hesitantly, “She’s holding up well though considering.”  

Fang takes a deep breath and I slow down to pat her on the shoulder. Kroos’s smile is a bit harder than usual. Beagle doesn’t respond and looks down on the ground. 

Fang keeps moving though and soon enough we’re at my Factory. I swipe my visor and open up the building mode app. Some of the Rhode Island drones take the carbon rods from the cart. Silence is inside, with a Rhine Labs tablet up and running as she monitors the Battle Record Production Machine. Her eyes blink sleepily at the screen. 

“We’re taking the next shift Dr Silence,” says Fang. Silence stands up and nods to the girls as she picks up her tablet.  I look back at the battle record projection screen.  It’s an image of Melantha slicing through orislugs as Adnachiel provides air support. 

“You know,” says Kroos with a drawl, “These battle records are going to start becoming a lot more interesting to watch with the new Doctor’s recruits. Lots of big personalities. ”

“Oh, like who?” asks Silence.  

“Well there’s Lappland for one. Cliffheart. Projekt Red. I hear that they’re gonna recruit the Enlightened One too.” says Kroos.

“Yes,” says Silence as she falls silent. We wait for her to speak. Kroos walks up to her and waves her hand in front of her face. 

“Silence is asleep,” says Kroos with a yawn.

“Hey Silence!” calls out a loud voice. A young Sankraz girl barges into the Factory. Silence wakes up with a start. 

Silence yawned. “My apologies, the room’s design makes me sleepy,” she says with possibly the worst excuse I’ve heard since waking up.

I put my hand on Silence’s shoulder. “Do you think you can make it back to your room?” I ask.

 She nods. “Ifrit can you help me walk back?” she says with a yawn. The young Sankraz girl smiles and zooms over to Silence. Silence leans on her and they walk off.

“Well that’s that. See you later girls,” I say to the A4 girls. I wave to them as they wave back at me.

I walk to Amiya’s office. The door’s already open so I walk in. She’s not in. I sit on one of her reception chairs and send her a ping on messenger . No response. I get up and walk around her office. 

I never thought Amiya’s office would be messy. Well, it’s not too messy - there’s just a bunch of boxes lying around. Monitors with a Rhode Island material flashing on it - guess that must be her screensaver. Three large bookcases, two filled with books, the middle filled with miscellany and knick knacks. 

I walk outside. It’s true that where Lappland was sniffing doesn’t correlate. I pull out a map of Rhodes Island. While there certainly is enough room for there to be a hidden room - it’s more likely to be Amiya’s sleeping bunk and bathroom. She seems like the type that would take a quick power nap in lieu of sleep. 

I walk back in and rummage through the boxes. One’s filled with neurology textbooks. Photo frames of myself with people I don’t know. Doctorates for myself that I don’t remember ever receiving.  Urgh it is the stuff I asked Amiya to get rid of. I know she’s probably busy - too busy to get rid of it.

But….

Maybe she’s keeping it around for the Old Doctor.

I clench my fist. I don’t care. Apart from the memory loss thing - I’m healthy and I seem intact. Intact enough that no one openly questions having me in command. I rummage through the box a bit more and see a mug. A logo is printed on the mug - “Babel”. 

I don’t want to know but I have to know. I open up my visor browser and pop “Babel” into a search engine. Ok, these results are useless - programming language, some Columbian-Iberian movie, a Latarano scriptural story.

What about “Babel company”?

There’s a epida article. It doesn’t give me much - it’s been edited over and over again for just some very cursory information. “Research company. Originated in Columbia. Expansion in Kazdel. Company deregistered.” The news articles speak of Columbian interference in a Kazimierz, Ursus Empire and Leithanien conflict which definitely did not exist due to non interference. 

I cross my arms. What if I told them I didn’t want to be involved in politics? The bile rises in my throat at all these things that should have been me but are not me. I’m starting to smell roses. There’s a vase of roses in a corner of the cabinet. 

The smell is irritating. I sit back down on the reception chair and take photos of her office with my drone. Oh yeah, three hundred and sixty degree secret exploration when I have time. 

I examine the picture through my visor browser. Little knick knacks. A collection of coloured gems and rocks. A miniature of a violin. Some paper roses and medals. Some awards given to Rhode Island. 

Photos - photos of Amiya with an older cauctus woman, photos of Amiya with Dr Kal’tsit, a photo of a woman and Amiya standing in front of a dessert cliff. Amiya’s much younger in this photo. The woman is holding roses. In front. Behind the woman, throwing cauctus ears with their fingers is a person in a black coat.

That’s me.  I curl over. The roses, they suffocate me. I vomit. It all comes spilling out.

Amiya comes out of her office. She sees me and screams. She swipes on her desk and then rushes over to me. My throat is constricted. It burns. The acid burns my throat.   Nearl comes racing in, carrying a blonde sarkaz girl in her arms. Shining follows behind her. Amiya hovers over me, taking deep breaths - her face pale and wretched. 

“Nearl,” says Shining quickly. Nearl gently helps the girl to the chair as Shining pours healing energy into me. Nearl then gets Amiya to take a seat next to the sarkaz girl. 

“Doctor can you hear me? ” asks Shining as she squeezes my shoulder. I nod. Shining takes off my visor gently and opens my throat and jaw. Then she rolls me over into the recovery position. 

“Don't be afraid, I'm right beside you. Everything is okay,” says Shining. I lie there for a long long time when I feel my body being jerked upwards. Shining picks me up, as though she’s cradling something soft and precious – which I am not. Nearl places my visor on top of my belly.  

“We’ll return the Doctor when they’re fit for duty. Nearl. Nightingale - please treat Amiya,” say Shining. Amiya nods. My drone hovers over me protectively. 

Shining carries me down the corridor. I’m shaking. “Not the hospital,” I gasp. I feel Shining’s nod. She turns to the right and then raises her hand to the keylock. She walks inside. It’s dual dorm room rearranged for three operators. 

“This is our room,” says Shining serenely, “Do you like it?”

There’s traces of living from Shining and Nearl. At the front there’s a coffee table with a monitor propped onto it, a lounge and a bookcase. There’s a small kitchenette to the side. Two beds  - one queen sized and one double sized off to the side. Nothing I would guess from Nightingale - except for a mobility chair with a staff holder and an empty bird cage with an opened door on a bedside table. Shining gently places my visor onto the coffee table then settles me down on the lounge. She sees me staring at the birdcage. 

“It isn’t healthy for Nightingale to stare at it all day,” she says calmly as she takes off my jacket and places it next to me,  “It was the first thing she asked for when we were at Rhodes so Nearl brought it for her.”

“Visor,” I gasp. Shining hands me the visor. When I place it over my face, the darkness envelopes me and my breathing evens out a bit more. 

“Nightingale is?” I ask

“Nightingale is receiving treatment at Rhodes Island. She is a talented healer. She is currently undergoing the application process to become a Doctor’s Squad Operator,” says Shining, “There are difficulties but her application is progressing.”

Shining’s words wash over me like calming waves. It is soothing but there’s still a hurt, a pain. I have to pick at the pain.   

“What type of world did I wake up in?” I ask.

“Well Doctor, what type of world do you think you live in?” asks Shining.

“What is Babel?” 

“Babel was a research organization,” says Shining, “I do not know much about it, I apologize.”

“Was Babel a terrorist organization?” I ask.

Shining looks thoughtfully at me. I stare at Shining directly - as directly as you can with a blank visor. 

“Amiya is too eager,” sighs Nearl as she walks into the room, carrying Nightingale. Shining shakes her head slightly. “Amiya’s stable,” says Nearl as she assists Nightingale into her power chair. 

“Do I want to know what I used to be like?” I asked, “I have an idea of sorts but….”

“How did you find out?” asks Nearl in slight alarm.

“I guugled it. I was being held for ransom in a deep sleep chamber after being assumed missing in action in a Kardelz jail,” I say, my tone light and airy. Shining and Nearl exchange a look. Nightingale stares at her cage. A slight silence settles over us. 

“My ransom note was posted on the internet. I was being online auctioned off. I was an item of interest in a newstory about bumfucknowhere.” I point out.

“The Doctor was once in the centre of world events,” says Shining evenly and measured, “The Doctor was known by many, mainly by reputation.”

“Did you know me?” I asked. It was like picking at a scab that I would never let heal.

“I did not know the Doctor personally,” says Shining.

My hands clench. Nightingale moves over to me and leans forward as she touches my hand gently. I let her touch remain there, her hand is warm.  “I do not remember clearly. I see an image of you in them but that cannot be,” she says distantly. My hand jerks at her words.

“There are many things I can not recall. I am free now and so I try to think about what I can do now,” says Nightingale. 

“I don’t know what I can do,” I say in a tiny voice.

“Doctor, many people will assume you to be the Doctor of Babel,” says Shining as she takes off her hooded cloak, “ Many people will be unable to separate the Doctors. For now Doctor, my goal is to see that you make a full recovery and find yourself and who you want to be. As you do, I will protect you so you can take your time recovering. I know we’ve hadn’t much time but is there anything you particularly liked doing?”

“No,” I say in a tiny voice. 

“I have a suggestion,” says Nearl. We turn to face her. “Why don’t you start reading?”

Shining smiles approvingly at Nearl. “Reading will open up new worlds for you,” says Shining, “Maybe you could share your books with the younger people. The younger people of Rhodes Island - they should read more generally and their languages have become atrocious. I think particularly of Ifrit who needs to learn that arson is not an acceptable form of book criticism.”

“I brought this book for Zima but why don’t you read it Doctor? I’ll mail you the online version as well in case you prefer electronic reading,” says Nearl. 

I clench my hands together and give a tiny nod.“Maybe I could run a library,” I say quietly.

Shining and Nearl nod at me encouragingly. Shining leans over to me.

“How are you feeling Doctor?” asks Shining. I sit up. I feel shaky but I can still move. “If you like, you can rest here.”

“No it is fine,” I say, “Amiya’s waiting for me.”

“I’ll take you to Amiya Doctor,” says Nearl, “Do you think you could walk there?”

I nod. 

I open and close my hands.

I need to have a talk with her.

Chapter Text

I wasn’t really paying attention when it all started going wrong. I wasn’t watching the screen. Then it hit me for the first time. 

“OPERATION ERROR”

My head buzzes from the loud beep and vibrating red lines on my visor. I clench my gloved fists. Everyone seems to be ok. The snipers are safe. The vanguard is safe. The defenders are safe. Guards - oh no.

It’s that big boy. The red flash of the axe. 

Silverash is in mid swing, slicing through swathes of enemies to defend properly. He’s buying time for Angelina to burn and slow down the infected but she’s not casting fast enough. 

The axe is swinging down.

The axe cleaves into his skull. 

The crunch reverberates through the speakers of the transport vehicle. 

I frantically wave my hands on his icon. Gather the warmth. I am warm, originium flowing through my veins. Yank him off. Yank his image off the screen. My left hand clenches into a fist and I throw out my arm.

There is a loud crash as Silverash’s body lands onto the emergency retreat stretcher.  I turn around.  There’s blood. Blood is streaming down his face. I can’t tell whether he is breathing or not.  His falcon hovers over his body. The axe didn't teleport with him. Pity. Aak sets up the IV drip as Warfarin monitors his vitals.

“You can do it right?” I ask Warfarin. 

Aak shoots a cocky grin at me. “Just get on with it Doctor,” says Aak.

I turn back to the monitor. The big boy walks on but one last bolt from Angelina kills him. But there’s a blank space where Silverash was. 

“Zima can be redeployed,” says Silence. Zima strolls off cockily to the deployment bench and takes a seat there. I nod to Zima and stretch my hand out to her. She clenches onto her hatchet.  She lands on the entry point, near Angelina’s high ground. The drones focus on her instead. 

The big boys and those zombies are slowly approaching Ifrit’s range of fire. We’ve got fish to fry. Saria steadies her shield. Hoshiguma is beside her holding off an onslaught from the other line.  I mute the screen. The medics, apart from Silence, never like this part. 

“Burn Ifrit!” I yell into my mic, “Scorched Earth!”. 

Ifrit cackles. Lines and lines of reunion enemies burn. Saria and Hoshiguma clench their teeth and hold up their shields as best they can. Saria throws up her left hand in the air - her arts speed up Ifrit and Hoshiguma’s healing. On my visor - i see their hit points restored. I take a deep breath - they’re holding the line. 

In the reflection of the screen, I can see some of the medics wincing and trying not to throw up when they accidentally look at the screen. It’s amazing - they can keep calm in the face of battlefield injuries - but having to watch Ifrit’s work? 

I can hear the screams in my microphone.  Screams as they roast in their armour.  Screams for all the pain they’ve caused my operators. Screams for what they’ve done to my mission. It’s not my fault I wasn’t paying attention. If they had just been normal - normal reunion forces, they would have let…. I don’t want to finish that thought. I clench my fists.  There is silence.   Silence wipes away a proud tear. 

“Status update,” I say. 

“Three hundred and eighty identified enemy combatants out of four hundred identifed eliminated. Zero forces escaped. Twenty combatants to hunt,” says Projekt Red into my ear piece. 

"I’m deploying Silverash in one hour and ten minutes," I yell. Aak cracks his knuckles with a grin and prepares to shoot Silverash in the face.

 Ansel turns around and places his hand on top of the tranquilizer gun.  "No durian in enclosed spaces," says Ansel calmly.

“It’s not durian,” sulks Aak, “It’s lychee.”

“Carry on,” says Ansel as he lets go. Aak scowls at Ansel but Warfarin puts a hand on his shoulder. 

 “You usually forget the Durian rule,” says Warfarin calmly, “We don’t want a repeat of the durian incident. Shoot away.”

Ansel walks over to Meteorite who holds onto her crossbow protectively. She hops off her hospital bed. Her hair is drooping. When she makes her way to the deployment bench, she rearranges her hair. Ansel starts disinfecting and prepping the hospital bed for the next operator.  Behind him, Warfarin and Aak are still working hard on Silverash. Perfumer pours her healing arts into Silverash, Warfarin and Aak to keep them all steady.  Silverash is still having difficulty breathing.

My heart sinks.

I’m so used to the medics being able to fix anyone up - as long as I got the operators to them. It’s not my fault -  we’re pushing boundaries. Boundaries I didn’t even know of. I don’t actually know how many hits the human body can take - I’ve been relying on Priestess to tell me all of this.

If Priestess was wrong then… would Silverash die?   I force myself to focus on the screen. Silverash will not die. I won’t let Courier or Matterhorn see these battle records.

“Operation over,” blasts from the speakers. It’s Projekt Red’s voice, low but clear. Silence places put a partial screen around Silverash, Warfarin and Aak. 

I start teleporting them back. Nightingale and Shining are fine for what it is worth. They’re exhausted but they can relieve the other medics during the containment period. Siege brushes herself off and walks over to be assigned a hospital bed.  Zima’s eyes are dark and thoughtful. Angelina is breathing heavily, her body drenched in sweat. Ifrit is all smiles and only Silence’s touch can persuade her to sit down. Firewatch refuses assistance until Ansel assists her to a bed. Hoshiguma and Saria are the last I teleport back. 

“All personnel extracted,” says Projekt Red. 

I fall to my knees and curl up into a ball on the ground. Zima picks me up. “Come on Doctor,” she says, “The faster you get off the floor, the faster we can go home.” She carries me over to a bench next to Saria. Saria and Hoshiguma are sitting apart from everyone else - the stench of burnt flesh reeks on them. 

“Permission to return to base?” asks the Pilot to my microphone.

“Granted,” I say. 

It was a Lungmen mission, clearing out a Reunion cell. Small fry so I didn’t take it seriously. The main base was near the area. So we rumbled along by wheel. Meteorite bustles around trying to open whatever doors she can. Ifrit takes this rare opportunity to sit next to Saria, her face all smiles.  

“You’ve done so well on all your operations!” says Amiya, “I knew you could do it Doctor”.

I rub the back of my head sheepishly with a “(^ w ^ );;” on my visor.

“Don’t underestimate the enemy Doctor,” says Dobermann sternly, “After all, with the world around us being the way it is, we must train ourselves to all become stronger.”

The transport convoy pulls into the vehicle entry of the base. The doors slide open. Everyone lets Nightingale get off the vehicle first. They all slowly straggle off the vehicle. 

“Can we play Bash Sisters Saria?” Ifrit asks eagerly. Saria just pats Ifrit on the head and points towards the exit. She’s helping wheel one end of Silverash’s hospital bed out of the vehicle. Hoshiguma has the other end.

“Silverash will recover,” says Silence softly to me. She walks on quickly with the others to the containment ward.

I set “OwO” on my visor. I clench my fists and walk on mechanically to my office. When I reach my office, Amiya’s there - I forgot she was my assistant this month. She’s rearranging schedule requests on my desk. She rushes over to me and holds me by the shoulders. She looks over me head to toe. 

“Ok, you’re safe,” she sighs.

“I think I killed Silverash!” I blurt out.

“What?” says Amiya in surprise. 

“It went wrong,” I babble, “Lungmen Reunion Cell Annihilation. I wasn’t paying attention - I thought it was just a normal mission so I wasn’t looking. The big guy must have been stronger than usual - I don’t know, I didn’t calculate it and then Silverash got a massive big boy axe, cleaved his skull in two. I just accidentally murdered the CEO warlord of an up and coming trade company Amiya!”

“Doctor, it will be - ”

“Oh god, do we have to transition from paramilitary to full military now?” I babble, “I can barely hold together this fake security team - I can’t do an entire nation. And what do I do about you?”

Amiya grabs me tightly by the shoulders. “Doctor! Silverash isn’t dead.” she says calmly, repeating herself continuously. 

“He’s dying!” I say hysterically.

“Silverash is in observation at the moment,” says Amiya, “With some of our best medics. If his condition was serious, Warfarin would have notified Dr Kal’tsit and myself.”

“Really?” I say screaming.

“Yes,” says Amiya, “If Silverash was in a grave condition, I would know about it first. As I haven’t been notified - Silverash’s condition wasn’t serious enough to report to me.”

“Really?” I say slightly calmer. My voice is too hoarse and dry to keep screaming.

“Doctor, have some water and go to bed,” says Amiya gently but firmly, “You’ve been on missions non-stop especially with all the new recruits to your squad.”

“But I should stay up. I need to know.” I protest.

“Doctor, there is nothing you can do at the moment. You’re running low on sanity and I will not let you have a sanity potion right now,” says Amiya. Amiya takes my jacket off me and gently places it on my office chair. She pushes me towards my bed and rolls me in. She pulls the blankets over me then takes off my visor. 

“I’ll check up on you tomorrow. I promise I’ll tell you whatever news I get about Silverash,” she says as she takes a seat by bed.

“Promise you’ll tell me if Silverash doesn’t recover?” I ask.

“I promise,” says Amiya gently. I lie there flat on my stomach.  My hands shake and I clench my fists together. I need to play a memory. 

“Can I have my visor to help sleep?” I ask. 

Amiya hands me my visor.  I sit up and put my visor over my face. I lie on my back. I play my most recent, most boring memory I can think of.

Amiya’s in the HR office with Orchid. Orchid flips through the email print outs and a big roster.

“There will be two types of rosters,” says Amiya, “The first roster is the On Call Roster.  Operators on this roster must be prepared to arrive at the deployment location within 3 hours of notice. We update this roster every month.”

“The second roster is the monthly roster - this roster is the Doctor’s Facilities roster for all the Doctor’s Operators this month,” says Amiya as she pulls out a roster, “Doctor’s Operators have their rosters sent out to them two weeks in advance.”

“Operators are required to work ten percent of their contract hours in the Doctor’s facilities. For the standard full time operator - they will work 4 hours a week in your facilities. Missions and operators are considered as contract hours,” says Orchid as she pulls out some charts. 

“HR keeps track of everyone’s schedule,” says Amiya, “If there’s anything out of the ordinary - unexpected leave and such like, the Operators will liaise with HR. The Doctor’s Squad representatives compile the monthly rosters for your approval.”

“Is this how we can have busy people like Silverash and Ch’en practically at our beck and call? I assume they’re not on the On Call Roster.” I say.

Amiya nods, “It is part of the contract they signed. For operators who come as part of a trade or specialized agreement, we have part time contracts.”

Earthspirit walks in.

“Ahh Earthspirit, could you tell the Doctor about contract work hours?” asks Amiya. 

Amiya’s soft voice drones on about rosters and contracts. I hear a knock on the door. I sit up. Amiya’s gone.  A message pops up on my visor.

“Amiya - I’m outside”.

I slide my fingers on my visor to let my door slide open.

“Doctor, I brought someone you might want to see,” she says softly. 

I stumble out of bed and put my jacket on. I feel foul. I must have fallen asleep crying despite Amiya’s best efforts. 

It’s Silverash. 

He looks like he always does. He’s tall - too tall for me. I start crying but they can’t see. I flash “(0 w 0)” on my visor and give a shaky wave.  Amiya rushes over to me and starts rubbing my back up and down.    “See Doctor, Silverash is perfectly alright,” she says in a soothing voice, “He was cleared by the medical department during the containment period. His blood density levels didn’t change either.”

She gives a little cough. Silverash gracefully holds out his right hand. I grab his wrist with both my hands to check the monitoring bracelet. She’s right. His levels are completely unchanged. 

“Ok, he’s alive. Thanks you two. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say as cheerfully as I can muster.

“I do not fly out until evening my friend,” says Silverash, “Can I assist you today?”

“No, no not really. Oh wait, you can answer this question? Why do you use Tenzin to attack?” I try to say jovially.

“He has a little sword. He holds the sword in his beat and swoops down upon my foes. The element of surprise is an invaluable one,” says Silverash with a straight face as he looks down at me. 

I spread my hands out. I feel like a marionette. I could scream.

“Miss Amiya, may I speak to the Doctor?” asks Silverash.

Amiya nods her head - just with a touch of reluctance. “I’ll be right back,” she says gently, “I’ll get you two some Adnachiel pastries and coffee.” 

She leaves the room slowly. I remain still. 

“That girl... Amiya? She's no ordinary girl,” muses Silverash.

“Of course she isn’t,” I say snappily, “She’ll get your coffee order right despite you never having actually told her how you take your coffee.”

Silverash gives a small enigmatic smile at me. He gently grabs me by the shoulders and ushers me to the couch facing my desk. He softly pushes me down to sit on the couch.

“Stop looking so serious all the time. Can't you at least smile when I'm around?” asks Silverash.

Screw him. I take off my visor. My face is disgusting, filled with tears and mucus. 

Silverash gives a little smile. He cradles my face between his gloved hands. “Good. That's what I want to see,“ he murmurs. He takes a tissue out from the box beside me and starts wiping my face in an experienced manner. 

“Blow,” He instructs as he holds a tissue up to my nose. My face wrinkles and I blow my nose. He delicately discards the tissue in the waste bin beside my desk.

“Now Doctor, what is wrong? There is nobody better suited to solve your problems than me,” he says, my face still in his hands. 

I shake my head. I look at his face, it’s fascinating what Rhodes Island can do. Overnight, they’ve repaired a split skull with virtually no traces of what had happened. By all rights, he should be in a medical coma as they try to fuse his skull back together or whatever it is you do to try and get a skull back into one piece.

“Isn’t that right? Oh am I wrong?” he says slightly teasingly.

“Not that… Not that,” I mumble. 

I lean up to touch his forehead. There was no scar to feel. 

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

“What was that?” he asks. 

“I’m sorry,” I cry, “I didn’t teleport you out in time. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Silverash laughs. I glare at him.

“If this wasn’t Rhodes Island with the cutting edge medical technology, you would be the cause of a civil war at the very least,” I snap, “As your body lay there in a medical coma, Matterhorn and Courier would be pretending you’re alive and still giving orders and having to fake that you’re alive as Cliffheart suddenly steps in. And that would be the end of the Silverashes. And everything will get political which you know I hate!”

“My friend, I’m not laughing about my affairs,” he says as he strokes the side of my face with he hand, “I simply never would have expected the Doctor to apologise for any preventable injuries I sustained during the course of my time at Rhodes Island.”

“Oh god, you don’t think I’m the Doctor of Babel as well do you?” I groan.

“No, you are the Doctor of Rhodes Island. It is just unexpectedly compassionate of you to worry about your Operators and any injuries they sustain considering your strategies, after having dragged us into your war,” he muses.

“I have to care,” I say grouchily, hiding my face in my hands. I look away as my hands fumble for my visor to snap it back on my face.

“Your compassion will save no one on the battlefield,” he says harshly, “Many of your operators are skilled and seasoned warriors. They trust you to lead us in whatever war or battle you choose to enter. Whatever your plans are, do not disappoint me by curtailing them for fear of hurting your operators.”

“What if I don’t teleport you out in time again?” I ask, “What if...”

“What else do you fear?” he asks softly.

“Infection,” I whisper.

“Why do you fear that Doctor?”

“You’re constantly exposed. You’re exposed every time you get teleported. You’re exposed through your little sister. You’re exposed any time we’re required to use healing arts on you. You’re exposed ever since we taught you that rule of survival trick,” I say quickly, letting the words spill out, “A teleportation gone wrong, an operation gone wrong, a big boy leaves his axe in your skull, you know Reunion’s started using those nasty little shard scatter devices and bam - there’s an originum shard lodged in your body and your blood density level would be on rival to the palliative care ward. ”

“I trust you,” he says, simply for him. 

"Why?" I ask him. 

"When valour preys on reason, it eats the sword it fights with. My friend, you are far too invested in me, to ever let me die without cause. Were you not the one driven to discover how I could use the Rule of Survival without increasing my exposure? That cost you quite a bit of LMD, in paying Saria and Hellagur to conduct the research. Think of all the LMD and resources you have spent on me thus far. It would be a waste of your investment if you accidentally let me die,” says Silverash.

I make a filthy snort. That is true enough.  “You did cost me over one million lmd,” I mutter with a smile, “I need you to pay that back in trading post shifts.” 

I dive in for a hug around his waist. Silverash tenses up then places a hand on my head. He pats my head gently. 

“I trust that you would never deliberately harm me unless you had a reason to. There may be a day when we would confront each other but until that day.... Let us make the most of our time together,” he murmurs. 

"Don't die," I ask him stupidly, "You’re too expensive to die." He gives a low chuckle then yawns. 

“Let me rest for just a while. I'm more tired than I thought. My apologies,” says Silverash. 

I stand up.

“Stay there,” I say sleepily, “I need to double check the rosters for next month. And Amiya should be coming in soon. She’s good at coming in at the right time.”

Amiya rushes in with a tray of three coffees and two pastries. “Adnachinel was making meitschibei today,” she says with a smile, “The pastry is for us to split Mister Silverash - the Doctor insists on having their own pastry. ”

She places the tray on the table and expectly places a coffee and a pastry on my desk. I take a sip of the coffee - huh, she guessed my mood correctly today. She got me a flat white with three sugars. 

“May I ask what is in my coffee?” asks Silverash delicately. 

“Expresso, almond milk, no sugar,” says Amiya as she sits down on the couch.

Silverash raises an eyebrow. “You were indeed correct Doctor,” he says as he sniffs the coffee before drinking it.

“Of course I’m right,” I say as I sip my coffee, “Amiya is extraordinary.”

Chapter Text

I’ve watched too many Mission videos today. I groan. Why did I put myself through this? I play the cause and start of it again. 

“Mission Complete” says Projekt Red’s voice over the speakers. I stretch outwards. I didn’t think it would work but it did. Dobermann smiles in approval at me. Amiya gives me a cup of coffee. 

“Congratulations Doctor,” says Dobermann, “Autodeploy appears to be a success. It will become a valuable resource gathering and training tool for Rhodes Island.”

I stretch and yawn. I want a sanity potion, I'm running low again. I have to go through all these videos of the battles to see which ones would be suitable for training. I'm surrounded by monitors of battle videos playing. 

“Oh Doctor, you’re not in your unit,” says Rope teasingly.

I flash two peace signs at her. “I’m a big Doctor now!” I say cheerfully. Rope raises an eyebrow at me. I flap my hand at her as she mockingly scurries to the deployment bench. I turn on Priestess on my visor. Operation start. 

Fang and Plume are my vanguard. They slice through slugs.  Plunge and slice. Then the reunion runners. Their spears pierce through the bodies and they vanish.  Fang clenches her teeth after flinching slightly. She corrects her stance and slices down her spear at the next person running at her. 

My door slides open and Amiya walks in, dressed in a promotional paperboy dress. “Hey Doctor,” she says cheerfully, “I got some coffee for you!”

“( o w o) ” flashes on my visor. I take the cup of coffee and sip it quickly. She guessed my mood correctly today - long black no sugar. It's no sanity potion but I'll take it. “You’re in good form. Didn’t you just have a photoshoot and press conference?” I say. 

“Well, it didn’t take too long,” she says, before she sips from her big keep cup, “How has Nearl been as an assistant?” she asks.

“She’s doing a great job. Never would have guessed that she never even used a computer until a few months ago. Well same for me as well I guess,” I say jokingly.

“That’s good,” says Amiya, “It’s good to see the Followers mixing in with the rest of Rhodes Island. Anything I can help you with today Doctor?”

“Well, just one thing,” I say, my voice trailing off as I point to the monitor.

“Yes?”

"Where do all the vanishing bodies go?"

"PRTS teleports enemy combat casualties to a coronial vehicle," says Amiya calmly.  

"Really? How does Priestess know how to teleport the dead bodies?" I ask curiously.  Amiya twists her rings around and around her fingers as I stare at her. Ah. Right. “The old Doctor programmed it didn’t they?” I say, unable to keep the slight trace of bitterness out of my voice.

“Yes,” says Amiya in her press conference voice, “The PRTS is programmed to automatically teleport any combative matter in a combat zone for processing.”

“Oh. Is that why I have to send my drones out to map the area first?”

Amiya shakes her head. 

"PRTS sets up four drones to establish a rectangular barrier. The barrier can cover up to a hectare, two hectares if we can fly in 8 drones for teleportation support," she says, “Your own personal drones mainly provide you line of sight.”

“Huh,” I mutter.  Old me really was a genius. And to think I was so proud of my autodeploy program. I sigh and place my hands on the back of my neck. Amiya looks at me - a bit wistfully, mainly hopefully.  

“It would be fairly traumatizing, even for seasoned mercenaries, to be killing and fighting, ankle deep in corpses,” I say, “ How often does Rhodes Island use the PRTS Combative Material Teleportation System?”

“We call it the ‘Arts Coronial System’,” says Amiya, “Well we have always had it but we only started implementing it in battle because of you Doctor. Some of the Operators find it unsettling or have concerns about exposure. All Doctor’s Operators are aware of the risks of the Arts Coronial System.” 

“Well bodies vanishing in front of you is also the type of stuff that goes beyond the complimentary three psychologist sessions.” I murmur.

“Well it’s really not that unsettling,” says Amiya, “Please allow me to show you Doctor.” She plugs in a USB and pops in a video. It pops up on my monitor. It’s a standard PR puff piece. Shots of operators helping the wounded. Shots of people in black military gear looking important, helping out kids in need. White rose. Wounded mother being shown a photo of their dead child. 

“Rhodes Island will provide Catastrophe Relief. From the technological, medical and pharmaceutical, contact Rhodes Island to discuss how we can help Terra become a better place.”

Amiya....

“That’s just our promotional video. The convoys also form as an additional source of income for Rhodes Island,” says Amiya. 

"Income?"

"Although our primary work is pharmaceutical developments, we also invest in other areas since our focus is oripathy. We have arrangements with different jurisdictions to provide relief either in the form of aid, technological aid, medical care, pharmaceutical care or coronial work.”  

“I suppose it works like some type of insurance scheme,” I say distantly, “and it’s probably a small sum to have us dispose of infected corpses quickly.”

Amiya nods as she sips her coffee.  “Well, there’s more information on what we do in the handbook Doctor,” says Amiya, “Our policies are all public record.”

“Well I’m going to spend the rest of my day reading them, what else are you doing today?”

“Oh I’ve got another photoshoot and then I need to look over the proposed Research and Development Projects for next financial year,” says Amiya as she checks her schedule on her phone, “Just a quick look over. They’ve gone through Closure first but I want to cull some in the executive round before it goes before Committee Hearing.”

“Sounds like you’re busy,” I say.  Amiya nods as she sips from her keep cup. I rummage in my drawer and take out a sanity potion. “I’ll be fine,” I say with a “OwO” on my visor, “I’ll just be here reading.”

Amiya nods and waves at me as she leaves my room. I lock my door and pull out all the coronial procedure documents and videos onto my monitor.  

The training videos are sanitized but they tell me what I need to know. I sigh and crack my knuckles. There's probably CCTV footage about. I turn to a third monitor. If there's one thing I've learnt about Rhodes Island - they love their CCTV cameras and security cameras. I scroll through the storage and check each folder and file one by one. Ok. There's one that appears to be for a long white vehicle space, marked with grids and lines. Well... if I wanted to run a morgue processing area, it looks pretty good for it. I set it on sixteen times speed. 

Slugs. Drones. Half melted bodies. Crushed bodies. They all pop onto a gurney. People in white hazmat suits move about as body after body appears on a gurney. The staff wheel it, strip the body, wheel it, a white hazmat suit wheels the body off, another pair of white hazmat suits wheel the body off.

The video goes on and on into a blur and dance of moving dead bodies. So these are all the people I’ve killed. Maybe not with my own two hands but they died because they got in my way. I just watch the convoy of bodies - body after body being stripped and identified. 

What do we do with the bodies though?

I slide the monitor with the Rhodes Island Manual on it. There we are. Morgue. Jurisdiction gets body transferred to their own morgues/hospitals. The video of the mortuary processes is still playing. A calm female voice is narrating how the perks of the Rhodes Island Level 4 Hazardous Materials Suit. I switch videos. A calm male voice narrates the ethics and necessity of showing respect to the dead even if they were trying to blast you into tiny itty bitty pieces just a second ago. I switch videos. A calm female voice narrates how to sort out unclaimed bodies to either Research and Development or to the Hospital for the Organ and Blood Banks. 

I guess this is normal. I guess this is all normal. I stare back at the screen. No, I wouldn’t recognize any of the people there. My personal kill count is zero but my kill count by proxy? It’s probably in the thousands at the moment. I want to throw up. I hold my hands still and drink my coffee. I should feel a lot worse about this but I don't. I can't do anything for them now. And I know that if I had to do it all over again, I would get rid of them to protect my operators. 

With all the lives I’ve indirectly killed, I’ve also saved so many. But I’m no judge, I can’t start determining who is or isn’t worth of death. The old me might have been capable of that but I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I turn off all the videos and pull up the official procedure guides back on the screen. 

I need to put it out of my mind. All I can do is not think about it it. I shiver. It’s really cold. I grab my coat and zip it up.  I walk out of my room and down the corridor. I set my emoti-visor onto “.____.”.

I feel cold and I want warmth. I stand outside the Dorm Two Cafeteria door. The Reserve A4 Girls - Beagle and Fang rush about serving people. Hung is on duty today so huzzah! No salads. I’m… not hungry. And there’s too many people. The noise makes my head hurt. I turn on my heel and walk off into the elevator.

I peek into the Dorm One. Silverash sits there alone. Well, not entirely alone. I see Duran dozing off in a corner. She never uses the capsules. I glide in and sit next to Silverash on the couch.

“This is a surprise,” says Silverash as he closes his book. I peer at the cover - he’s reading Victorian poetry. Huh. Never would have pinned him for a Victorian sonnets type guy.

“I would have pegged you for a tablet guy,” I say dully.

“I have a preference for a book in my hand,” he says, “The aroma and the weight of a book, it is a luxury I only indulge in when I am at Rhodes Island.”

“Is it because you don’t have time to do so in Karlan?” I ask. 

Silverash gives a slight smile, the type he gives when he’s just a bit disappointed in you. Well I’m not a spy or a chess player now. He’s just like Amiya. I shiver. Silverash spreads his arm out and I scoot over to lean on him. He’s warm. He feels warm and soft and I want to be warmed up.  

“Can I stay here? For now?” I ask in a small voice. I feel his nod. “Thanks,” I murmur, “You can keep on reading if you like.”

His hand flips open one of his books again. I stay there, breathing, feeling his warmth. I will only feel warmth and think of warm things. I turn on my network messenger, I’ve been avoiding all my messages and emails. Oh there's a message from Saria. 

"Dear Doctor,

Research into the use of originium stones for arts without increasing exposure has concluded. 

Please see attached, the invoice for the research conducted.

Yours Faithfully,

Saria"

I pop “* 0 * ” onto my visor and stare up at Silverash. He doesn’t react. I hold out my hand and flex my fingers. He looks down at me, with a questioning glance. 

"I’ll schedule you for five am - promotion exam. Just before you fly out," I say cheerfully

He gently strokes my head, "and what, may I ask, do you wish to teach me?" He asks. 

"A survival skill. We can get you using your own personal originium arts now without increasing your exposure! With this still, you’ll have to pour your focus into your sword as your medium. It’ll strengthen up your defences while healing you at the same time. Oh but you won’t be able to command Tenzin. We might need to get you a new blade or maybe we can do it with just a single removable originium stone on the end of your hilt as a channel.” I say.

"You take my house when you do take the prop that doth sustain my house. You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live. I will play by your rules if it ensures my survival,” muses Silverash. 

“That would be a pretty good name for it, ‘The Rule of Survival!’” I exclaim. 

“Do you name all of the skills for the operators you promote?” he asks. 

“Yeah? It’s one of the few perks of constantly promoting you guys,” I say with a yawn, “You guys are all so expensive, having to come up with new techniques and ways to channel your arts while your promotions suck my wallet dry.”

“You haven’t changed one bit my friend. Rest up Doctor,” says Silverash, “Tomorrow will come and we will discuss how I shall channel this new skill you have devised for me.”

I’m about to protest that - I’ve only known the man for a few months now but… But… My eyes flutter shut. 

When I wake up, there’s a blanket draped over me. Silverash is gone. I’m cold again. I stretch and blink my visor open. There’s a message from Doctor Kal’tsit for me to go and see her from 1am to 4am. I’m not sure what she wants from me. I shrug and make my way to her office. It’s 2am so I guess she’s just gotten back. I press my hand to the lock and the door slides open. 

Dr Kal’tsit nods at me to take a seat. I slide warily in. I start turning around taking photos of her office before she calls me to attention.

“No, you’re not in trouble,” says Dr Kal’tsit, “I just wanted to do a check in with you. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, fine,” I say distantly. 

“How are you finding your assigned operators?” she asks.

“Good, they’re all good,” I say carefully.

We stare at each other, her face a careful poker face, my emoti-visor a smile. She sighs and shrugs.

“Doctor, I’ve had some operators suggest that you may have a potential conflict of interest. Are you in a romantic or sexual relationship with Silverash?” she asks me bluntly. 

I would spit take but I have nothing in my mouth. “I’m not!” I protest, “I haven’t even been awake for that long!”

“I didn’t think you were,” says Dr Kal’tsit, “Their concerns did raise a concern of my own however. Doctor, your knowledge of personal relationships and interpersonal relationships may be limited. As you know - Silverash has powerful intentions and ambitions which once involved the Doctor of Kazdel. He may form his own conclusions as to you and your identity. You may find it difficult to maintain a relationship with him under the circumstances.”

“I know that,” I grumble, “I’m not that stupid.”

“It is hard for anyone to think clearly when it comes to relationships. You would have noticed many operators superimposing the Doctor of Kazdel when they interact with you.” said Dr Kal’tsit kindly, “Doctor, your personal relationships should ideally be reciprocal and consensual. I wish to fully empower you to make your own decisions about your interpersonal relationships. ”

“What do you mean?” I say in a stalling tone. 

Doctor Kal’tsit sighs and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to give you a lesson on consensual romantic and sexual relationships,” she says, her face remaining decidedly neutral, “I am going to give you the same lesson as I give to my wards.”

I squirm in my chair. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. The door’s slid shut. The monitors have started flashing extremely graphic charts and diagrams and cycle wheels. Oh god, is that?

“Now Doctor, I know you’ve got one of your camera drones on you. I would like you to record this to refresh your memory if you require it. ”

I nod and take out my camera drone from underneath my jacket. ":' ( " flashes on my visor. 

The next hour is one we would both rather forget although I’ve recorded it so we can’t. It's preserved for as long as my storage lasts. 

I stumble out of Doctor Kal’tsits office. There’s … just too much to understand. Amiya walks out of her office - I forget that they have an office nearby one another. Executive staff perks. She catches me wobbling about. 

“Oh dear,” she says with a soft voice, “I know that face - you got birded didn’t you?”

“???” emotes on my visor. Oh no, she knows that I know about all those cold bodies? 

“She told you about the Birds and the Bees didn’t she? ” she asks in a small voice. 

I nod energetically in relief.  “Well yes. In hindsight, it was going to happen.,” I say loudly, “Better now than later.”

“What do you mean Doctor?”

“Well, I’m an amnesic who is surrounded by folks like Saria, Silverash and well Gravel. She wanted me to know what reciprocal and consensual relationships were like,” I say with a shrug of relief.

“Oh. It slipped our minds altogether. I’m sorry Doctor. I don’t think any of us really realized that. We’re all a bit too alike,” she says in a small voice.  I squeeze her hand and she looks at me, her face press conference still.  

“It’s ok. If my care team didn’t pick up on it, why should you?” I say cheerfully. Amiya’s face becomes stonier. “Let’s spend right now together,” I say quickly, “I don’t have to do Silverash’s promotion until 5am.” 

Amiya smiles slightly at me.  

“Also I’ve got some good news to tell you as well. It’s a bit of a gift,” I laugh. 

“Let’s go to the Chapel. Have you been to the Chapel Doctor?” asks Amiya.  I shake my head.

“I’ll send Pramanix a message we’re coming,” says Amiya, “Just so we don’t intrude upon any services that might be happening. ” Amiya whips out her phone and types rapidly. Oh boy, she’s fast. 

“All good Doctor, it’s just Adnachinel and Spectre’s readings right now,” she responds. I hold her hand tightly as she guides me along corridors nearer to the hospital - where I don’t go at all if I can help it. I just don't like it.  

“Pramanix is the head of the Chapel but when she’s gone, Adnachinel maintains the chapel in her stead,” says Amiya softly.

“Huh they're both pretty young,” I mutter.

“Well Spectre’s not really leadership material,” she says diplomatically as we enter the Chapel. It’s a large room that could fit fifty distanced mourners. The front room is a pulpit with a semi circle of chairs. At the back near the door, there is a wall made up of screens with little lit up holes below. Adnachinel’s soft voice reads from his scriptures as Spectre looks up at him. Her face looks like she’s groping after lost knowledge but the light from the electric candles makes her eyes glow. 

Amiya brings me to look at the Memorial Wall.  “We keep the photos up for a month. After a month, Operators pay for rental of a space on the Memorial Wall. Some operators prefer to transfer it to their dorm rooms.” whispered Amiya. 

Huh. There’s a few holes with unlit candles. I lean in closely to look at it when Amiya holds me back.

“Oh the mourning period ended for that Operator,” says Amiya quickly. “So what do you have to tell me?” She asks as she ushers me away quickly into a pew.

“So I got some hints from 12F and I commissioned some research from Skyfire as a treat for you,” I whisper to her, “I’m promoting you next week if you can pick up Spirit Burst.”

“Spirit Burst?”

“That’s what I call it. Basically, it’ll stun you but you’ll be able to pull out six bursts of attack at once. You have to feel as though you’re splitting your powers into multiple sections. Or something like that. So you’re bursting your own spirit.”

“Doctor… you were doing that for me?” says Amiya with a tiny quiver. 

“The more ways you can protect yourself, the better the gift it is for you. Not much of a gift - I admit. Would you rather me bake a cake?”

“No, no, you’re not that good at baking cake,” she giggles, “Thank you but aren’t there other casters that need the caster chips more than me? And you have those guard chips too don’t you?”

“I can only modify Guard Chips into Specialist Chips and vice versa you know. You’re the Doctor’s Operator Caster I want to give those chips to.” I say, “Now you’ll cost me one twenty thousand Lungmen standard so you can’t die, ever. ”

Amiya holds my hands tightly and gives a small shaky smile. “Well I should be reminding you-”

“Who brought me to this place? WHO WAS IT?” echoes through the chapel. 

We stand up straight. Specter’s screaming and clutching her skull. Adnachinel flicks his fingers up twice before pressing a button and performing first aid on her. Amiya runs over to the two to assist. I’m not needed here so I simply move out to the entrance, to make sure the door is open. The first aid medics rush in.

I wander over the memorial wall and I light a candle for the Reunion forces. I look over the wall idly when something… catches my eye again. There’s two small alcoves. One is brightly lit. One is dark. They’re right next to each other. I guess the death period was the same. 

The bright one is a sarkaz woman. There’s little roses in her alcove. I take a photo of her alcove… I think she’s the same one as the one in Amiya’s office.

The alcove next to her is dark. Like the battery candles were just turned off quickly. There’s a piece of white paper sticking out behind to quickly hide it. I look around. Everyone is focused on Spectre. They’re going to start escorting her soon. I pull back the back backing and blink to take a photo of the wall. I slowly stroll back to the Reunion wall hole and lean forward. I examine the photo on my visor. 

It’s my face. It’s my face. It's my face. 

Liar.

But I’m not sure I want to know.

I zip up my jacket to try and feel warm again.

Chapter Text

“It’s not spying,” said Amiya, “We’re just conducting a spot check of the CCTV.”

“Is it ethical?” I said dubiously. Amiya raised an eyebrow at me.

“I know,” I said as I flashed ”(◔_◔)” on my visor.

“Well we have signs up advising that the public areas are monitored by CCTV footage,” said Amiya with a shrug.

I shrug in turn and turn around on my chair. I swipe my eye monitor and all the squares of the CCTV footage feeds appear on my monitor.

“Hmmmm,” murmured Amiya. She leant over and double tapped on the screen. 

“I see you refuse to be a worthy adversary, ” sneered Flamebringer. Executor continued walking down the corridor and out of the square.

Lappland placed a hand on Flamebringer’s arm. “He’s not going to fight you unless you break Laterano law,” she said, “Come on, I’ll fight you until one of us is full rocky or until you go kidnap a testator.”

“I choose not to squander my strength in your games,” said Flamebringer dismissively.

“You think I fight for fun?” laughed Lappland, “No wait… I do fight for fun. But also with my life. Funlife.”

“Oh dear, I hope I don’t have to report Flamebringer to HR,” murmured Amiya.

“You won’t have to. Flamebringer challenges but he doesn’t force people to fight. He’s just searching for a worthy adversary,” I said.

“Is he still challenging you Doctor?” sighed Amiya.

“Oh yeah. He’s still pretty crystal that I won’t leave him on the battlefield without Perfumer or Angelina. And that I teleport him out when he can still fight. He thinks it’s dishonourable.”

“Doctor!” says Flamebringer.

“Hmmm?” I say absently. I sit up straight, suppressing a yawn as I shut down the memory. Flamebringer turns around with a scowl on his face.  “Your face will freeze like that,” I say as I flash “(•‿•)” on my visor. 

Flamebringer shakes his head at me. “Your request is completed,” he says as he strides over to the usb printer, his sword bouncing on his back as he inspects the skill summaries. 

Funny but he’s one of the few that doesn’t take off their weapons at all if they can help it. Ifrit’s another one. Research and Development had to hire Manticore, Silence and Saria to distract her long enough to get that weapon off for modifications. Apparently, it was a real liability in the powerplants. 

Flamebringer strides over to me and places a bag of skill summaries onto my lap. I take one out and inspect it. Skill summaries are so cute - they’re shaped like mini notepads but they’re really usbs.

“Nice,” I say, “Were there any byproducts?”

“No,” says Flamebringer stretching out his arms and cracking his neck. 

“Good job,” I say, “Wanna head back to Club Midnight and grab a drink?”

“Oh?” says Flamebringer with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s my shout as thanks for all those skill summaries,” I say. 

“Do what you must,” he says as I place the skill summaries in a pocket of my jacket. 

“Well, if you don’t want the drink then you don’t have to come,” I say with a shrug. 

He stares at me, his lips slightly pursed together. He then lets out a small sigh. “If you really wanted to thank me, you would be deploying me on that next Contingency Contract,” he says, “I have slain crowns and generals after all. A mere regicide is nothing.”

“Come on, let’s head off. And you’re not on that contract since it’s just not a good mission for you,” I say as I stretch and head out of the workshop, “There’s a lot of teamwork involved in it and you’re not a team player.”

“Teamwork will rob one of the instincts that are liberated only through rampant slaughter,” says Flamebringer.

“Nah, I think trust and strategy are way more important in this mission,” I say.

“What "trust" and "strategizing" buy you are nothing but convenient illusions, and these illusions will one day take your life Doctor,” says Flamebringer meditatively. 

“I’ll take the convenient illusion of no fatalities thanks,” I say as we get into the elevator. I stare up at Flamebringer. He is tall, heads and shoulders taller than most of the people at Rhodes Island. He is certainly taller than me. What is it that Silverash and he eat? They say I’m twenty five years old so I guess I can’t grow anymore.

“Well, if we could heal you, we would keep you on the battlefield longer,” I mutter as we walk down the corridor, “Your adrenaline and Vulcan’s leech coatings keeps you going but sometimes it’s not enough.” 

“I bet my life on the battlefield,” he says testily, “I reap bone and blood to bathe in the blood of enemies. No enemy worth spilling my blood has appeared yet.”

“That’s because I prevent them from spilling your blood,” I point out, “If I could figure out how to keep your blood in your body longer, I would. Do you have adverse reactions to most of the battlefield medications and sped up healing arts? Is it allergies? Intolerances? Tell me your secrets Flamebringer.”

“You do not need to know. Do you harry Hellagur, Vulcan and Utage with the same questions?” says Flamebringer as we enter Club Midnight. Midnight waves at us from the bar and I wave back.

“Hey, Utage is openly allergic to almost everything we have here. It’s a race thing,” I say.

“What am I allergic to?” asks Utage as she hugs me from behind. “What are you guys talking about?” she pouts, “Is it about getting me those Lungmen boba cookies? You promised!”

“ Don’t worry, Dur-Nar’s on it. We’re talking about your inability to heal in battle,” I say, “How are your relaxation techniques working for you though?”

“Great!” she says cheerfully, “It’s all good. Although Doctor, my annual leave is coming up, are we heading near a beach any time soon?”

“Well, we’ll be flying near the Coral Coast,” I muse, “Gavial wants a few of us to go with her.”

“Coral Coast sounds cool,” says Utage as she rests her head on my shoulder, “Will Silverash be going there?”

 “I guess…. I think the Silverash family has a resort there,” I muse.

“Hey Vulcan!” calls out Utage. Vulcan is there, sitting down in a booth by herself. She nods at us. The three of us walk over to her.

“Not bad, you’re still alive,” says Flamebringer with a nod to Vulcan. She nods back at him as she lazily scrolls on her tablet. 

“How’s work?” I ask.

“We’re keeping on top of the damage reports and repairs. Everything’s normal,” says Vulcan, “Oh yes. Flamebringer, you can attend the forge in two days time. I’ll have that order in. Also I want to do maintenance on your coatings.” Flamebringer nods at her and Vulcan nods back at him. 

I look at Flamebringer with a “???” on my visor. 

“I seem to have used up my originium whetstone,” says Flamebringer, “I put in a request to Vulcan for new whetstones.”

“Guys, it’s time to relax now. Whatcha doing here Vulcan?” asks Utage, her tail waving about slightly in boredom.

“There’s a new drinks promotion at the bar,” says Vulcan. Matterhorn walks over, placing an elaborate cocktail in a whisky glass before Vulcan. He puts a partially elaborate cocktail in a wineglass before himself. 

“Ooo that’s such a cute drink Matterhorn!” says Utage, “Doctor, could you get me one?” 

“Sure, sure. Flamebringer, want one of those?” I ask. Flamebringer glances side eyed at me. “I can feel that you know,” I mutter at him.

“So….where’s Silverash?” asks Utage as she eyes the cocktails on the table.

“Master Silverash is currently in observation,” says Matterhorn stiffly. 

“So…. tell me, will Silverash be at the Coral Coast?” asks Utage. 

“That is not information I can disclose,” says Matterhorn stiffly. 

“Oh boooo I want to live it up at a beach resort,” grumbles Utage with a pout, “Doctor can you get me on a Silverash mission? Dylan said it was awesome.” 

“It all comes down to luck Utage,” I say as I shake my head, “Matterhorn are those drinks the Midnight specials?”

Matterhorn nods. 

“Ok, I’ll grab us the Midnight specials. Flamebringer, can you grab us a table? Utage, help me carry the drinks,” I say. 

“Just get me a whisky,” says Flamebringer with a sigh, “On the rocks.”

“Will do,” as I tug Utage away. Flamebringer walks off towards the booths. 

“Enjoy your date!” calls out Utage as I drag her off. 

“Not a date,” grumbles Vulcan. Matterhorn places his hand over hers lightly. Vulcan gives a small smile at him. “Ok, it might be one,” she murmurs at him, just low enough only I can catch it through my drone’s mic. 

Utage fishes around in her pockets as I drag her into the bar. “Omg, Doctor, let’s go Karaoke,” she says, “Let’s ditch Flamebringer and use up my two person discount coupon.”

“Not ditching him,” I say shortly as I look at the menu specials. There’s not that many this week. There haven’t been that many that month come to think about it. 

“But he’s just gonna tell us that long winded tale about how he rushed into some building and was the only person who came out alive,” she groans.

“I mean, he has other stories but that is a fair assessment of the majority of them,” I chuckle, “Midnight, can I have two Midnight Specials - A and B and a whisky on the rocks. The good whisky.”

Midnight raises an eyebrow at us. “Dear Customers, it is Sobriety Season,” he says doubtfully.

“Sobriety? Season?” I say slowly.

“Do you remember signing a pledge?” asks Midnight carefully, “A pledge to abstain from intoxicating substances, more intoxicating than myself, for a month?”

“No…”

“Well, your names are on the Pledge List,” says Midnight as he holds up a tablet. Huh, my name is on it. So is Flamebringer and Utage’s. Oh hey! Rosa signed the pledge for it as well. Good girl, she’s really trying. 

“Huh, I guess we all signed it,” I say with a chuckle, “Can we still have those drinks though?”

“You know the penalty is a week in an addiction camp with Doctor Shining and a care team correct? Well, you can have those drinks if you sign a waiver,” says Midnight.

“Will those waivers go to Shining?” I ask.

“Yes,” said Midnight.

“Pleaseeee Midnight,” I whine.

“Triple the price and no waiver,” calls out Catapult from the back.

“Deal!” I say cheerfully as I count out the LMD bills and slap them on the bar. Spot sighs and mixes the drinks for us. Utage coos and takes photos  of the drinks as they appear on the bar. She takes a few moments so I pop open my visor and map. Oh good, Shining is still in containment. I put a little tag on her name.

Utage holds the drinks. “Doctor!” she calls out. I nod and we walk over to the booth Flamebringer is sitting in. 

“It’s pretty quiet here,” says Flamebringer as he takes his whisky.

“That’s because it’s Sobriety Season,” I say, “You signed the pledge for it you know.”

“Did I? ”

“You did.”

“Remember when Gavial promised us all that she would let us all out of containment on time if we signed the pledge?” says Utage, “And we all signed it then? You were there Flamebringer.”

“Well, I was not interested. It was one of those useless Rhodes Island exercises,” says Flamebringer, “What was the pledge for?”

“No alcohol or recreational drugs for a month,” says Utage, “Otherwise you have to spend a week in one on one counselling with Dr Shining and her team.”

“Shining, huh? ” says Flamebringer nonchalantly.  I shudder. 

“It’s fine as long as we don’t get caught!” I say cheerfully with a “o ^ o” on my visor. “Well, to Bad Decisions!” I cry out.  We clink our drinks. I stand up and see a familiar white hat and black horns.

“Shit! Duck!” I whisper to Flamebringer and Utage.

Utage ducks with me. Flamebringer gracefully drops to the floor but he still has to fold himself up to fit under the table. He raises an eyebrow at me.

“I just saw Nightingale,” I whispered.

“And?” says Utage.

“The pledge! The pledge! Nightingale and Shining are a package deal with Nearl!” I whisper.

“What can Shining do to us? She’s a healer!” mutters Utage. Flamebringer’s face becomes rock still. I shake my head at Utage. 

 "Remember the top 1 video on the network a few weeks ago? The one where Shining picks up the really tall operator by the scruff of his neck and swings him into her arms, princess carrying him as he struggles to break free?"  I ask.

"Oh yeah that was a great video," laughs Utage. I jab my thumb at Flamebringer who looks away. Comprehension dawns in her eyes and Utage blanches as well. 

“How much do you two weigh right now?” I whisper, “If you know, I’ll teleport you.”

“How am I meant to know that? Rude,” she whispers. 

“I am by myself,” says a dreamy voice. Nightingale is in her mobility chair, looking down at us underneath the table. She tilts her head at us. 

“Oh, what are you doing here Nightingale?” I ask as we all stand up. 

“Catapult and Midnight are organizing costume fittings for the Spirits Night party. They want to see that my costume still fits.” she says. The three of us sigh in relief and move to sit down.

“Oh but Shining will be attending here when her containment finishes,” she adds, “Nearl and Shining wish to see how I look in my costume.”

The three of us look at eachother and we down our drinks.

“See you Nightingale. Don’t tell Shining we were here!” I call out as the three of us rush out of the bar. We’re down the corridor when I see Shining’s GPS tag start to move out of containment. Ok. She’s still on level three. I throw out my arm to stop the two of them. 

“Shining’s on Level Three. Where can we stay put until we’re sober?” I ponder.

“Greenhouse Level 1,” says Flamebringer, “Perfumer should be at Greenhouse Level 1. She’ll sober us all up. ”

“There’s just a scent about her that makes us heal or something,” says Utage, “It doesn’t irritate me or make me poop.”

I pull up my map and search for Perfumer. Perfumer and Podenco appear in Level 1. I nod at the two of them. “Follow me!” I call out.

I run through the backways into the Logistics elevators. The two of them effortlessly stroll with me as we catch this elevator and that elevator. There aren’t that many operators in the Logistics elevators at the moment so we’re largely unnoticed. 

“Should we duct it?” asks Utage as we approach the last elevator. 

“Nah, you won’t fit and they’re closing it up,” I say.

“Will fit,” she mutters with a pout, “Why are they closing it?”

“Lappland,” I say, “We found her passed out in the ducts.  So the Exec are closing off that route of travel. Closure’s working out the plans.” 

“She doesn’t know her limits. But she’s all the more powerful for that,” says Flamebringer absently as we arrive before Greenhouse 1. He taps his palm to the keypass. 

“Multipass!” I call out as the three of us walk in. Perfumer comes out of the greenhouse wheeling a trolley of seedlings. 

“There is no need for that,” says Perfumer reproachfully. Her little corgi yaps in agreement. 

“Perfumer, we need your help!” I say.

“Doctor, you’re overexaggerating,” she says as she raises her eyebrow at us, “What can I do for you today?”

“Could you just let us stay in the Greenhouse for a bit?” I say in a wheedling tone, “Just near you. We’re really interested in how you’re germinating those Karlan plants.”

“You broke your Sobriety Season pledge didn’t you? All three of you?” says Perfumer with a sigh. 

I nod. 

“Well, I do happen to be one of the administrators of Sobriety Season,” she says with a small smile, “All right, you three can stay near me for now provided that you assist in the greenhouse.”

“But will you tell Shining?” I say.

“No I won’t,” says Perfumer. Utage bursts into a large smile and hugs Perfumer. Perfumer shakes her head slightly. “Flamebringer, tray three please. Utage, Doctor, please look at the Greenhouse Level 1 moisture levels and tell me if there’s trays that have a moisture level below forty five percent please,” she says decisively. 

Utage pouts as she removes her nails and places them into her pouch. Flamebringer cracks his neck and moves towards the trays. I move towards the Greenhouse monitoring station and pull up the moisture sensor screen. 

Podenco comes out. Flamebringer stands up straight. “Podenco, help me fetch those seeds in the cupboard, won't you? Thank you,” says Flamebringer. 

Podenco blushes as she moves towards the cupboard. She runs towards the cupboard, quickly fetches the seed packet and runs towards Flamebringer.

“Ummm Flamebringer,” says Podenco hesitantly.

“Yes? Ah thank you,” says Flamebringer as he takes the packet of seeds from Podenco and places it into the seed trays. 

“The new varieties I’ve been tending to for so long have finally started to bloom in the Convalescence Garden! Aren’t they so pretty?” she says with a blush. 

“I have not had a chance to visit the Convalescence Garden. When will the petals next wither Podenco?” asks Flamebringer.

“Ahh those varieties bloom for ten days so in a few more days,” says Podenco.

“I will make sure to visit the garden by then,” says Flamebringer with a nod.

“Ummm do you want to visit the garden together?” bursts out Podenco. 

“If I am present in the garden, you can show me your work,” he says as he nods at her. Podenco’s tail wags slightly as she bustles off, her cheeks red.

I stare at Perfumer with “???” on my visor. Perfumer gives me a light chuckle. 

“Can we have some tea?” asks Utage, “Podenco! Can I have some of that tea you posted on Obsgram?”

“Oh you follow me on Obsgram?” says Podenco with a blush at Utage, her tail still wagging. 

“Yeah! Your tea and oils are the in-thing now on Obsgram,” says Utage cheerfully. 

“Oh, I’ll go make everyone some tea then,” says Podenco, “May I Perfumer?”

Perfumer smiles, “Of course you can,” says Perfumer with a smile, “Could you brew your new lavender blend? I believe the Doctor would like to try some.”

Utage stands up and winks at me. “I’ll go and help Podenco,” she says as she slings an arm around Podenco’s shoulders. I didn’t think it possible but Podenco is ultra red at the moment and her tail is going to fall off if it moves any faster. 

“That would be nice. Podenco can show you the office while you assist her,” says Perfumer. The two of them bustle off to the office as Perfumer gives a light chuckle. 

“Did that just happen?” I say.

“Oh, what did?” says Perfumer. 

“Did Podenco just get a crush on Flamebringer and Utage?” I say.

“Oh my, Doctor I can not indulge in gossip about my apprentice,” says Perfumer in a gentle scolding tone. 

“But I can talk at you,” I say to Perfumer, “And the others can’t hear. Isn’t this like her sixth crush since she’s been here? Didn’t we only hire her a few months ago? I remember - we weren’t sure whether she knew what Doctor’s Squadding would entail…. ”

“Well Doctor, isn’t it perfectly normal for a girl her age from her circumstances to admire a dashing mercenary or a fashionable exotic exchange student who have been kind to her?” asks Perfumer with a raised eyebrow. 

“Didn’t she have a crush on Siege or Courier? Last time I heard anyway,” I say with a shrug, “Oh by the way, you might want to look at Grid 3M. The water moisture levels are forty five percent.”

Perfumer looks at the screen and makes a light clucking noise with her tongue. “Well, many in Rhodes Island also admire Siege and Courier,” she says lightly, “Siege exudes charisma and leadership especially when she walks about with her fellow gang members. Courier always has a smile and a friendly word for all as he delivers our packages. It would be odd for a teenage girl not to admire them.”

“I heard she was admiring Saria strongly too,” I say bluntly. 

“Well, many do admire Saria. Saria is a talented researcher who is devoted to her family. She shields and protects many in battle to the best of her ability. But not to worry Doctor, Podenco’s admiration is purely that for a strong and capable researcher.”

I put my hands up in the air. “Ok, I’m glad her master is taking such good care of her,” I say with a “O w O” on my visor, “I can trust you with so much Perfumer.”

“I promise to fulfil all your expectations,” says Perfumer with a smile as the girls approach us, laden with tea trays. “Provided that you listen to me Doctor.”

Chapter Text

“No,” says Ansel as he organizes his desk.

I spin around on his office chair. “Ansel please,” I beg with a “（ 人・ω・)” on my visor.

“No Doctor. You know the rules,” he says calmly.  I spin around, even more rapidly, on his chair.   

“But you had two, I bet.” I say disgruntledly when my chair slows down to face him.

“Yes I did but not from the Snack Market,” he says, turning around to pop some papers into the shredder. 

“Boooooo,” I call out as I kick the floor. The force of my kick pushes the chair backwards, propelling me out of the Interns and Junior’s Office. I’m flying out, out and away when I come to a sudden stop. I look up. Cardigan is holding onto the back of my chair.  

“Hiya Doctor,” she says cheerfully as Steward looks at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Cardigan, Ansel’s not letting me have more snacks,” I whine. Cardigan laughs as she leans on the back of my chair. 

“The Doctor’s already had their Daily Snack,” says Ansel as he rushes out, “No more Snack Market Snacks for today.” He nods at Cardigan and Steward. The two of them put their arms around my chest and lift me off the office chair. Ansel pushes the chair away from me. “Thank you” he says as he wheels his chair back into the office. 

“You’re all against me,” I mutter as my feet dangle off the floor. The two of them settle me down on my feet.

“Come on Doctor, Ansel’s got a full theatre shift today. Let’s not disturb him,” says Steward.

“We’re free all weekend so we’ll play with you!” says Cardigan cheerfully, “What do you want to do?”

“Hmmm, this time of night - Dur-Nar is probably my best option….” I murmur, “Do you guys want to go to Club Midnight?” 

“Sure but I can’t drink,” says Cardigan with a shrug.

“Someone will pay. If no one can, I’ll pay,” I say as the three of us walk off. 

“Oh in that case, I’ll drink with you Doctor,” she says cheerfully. Steward sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. The two of us grab his hands and swing his hands as we walk towards Club Midnight. 

 “We’re off to drink!” Cardigan and I sing.

Steward laughs, holding onto our hands.  We walk into Club Midnight. “Ah, the interior is different from what I remember,” says Steward with a blink.

“Renovations baby! I got more furniture parts!” I say cheerfully. I let go of his hand to show off my interior decorating. “I changed it to a giant table in the centre rather than booths. To make sure everyone is socializing! Errr what is that?”

Some of my operators are sitting around the round table like I originally planned but… there’s a giant metal thing on my table. It's a giant pole with a web of metal. There's a plastic bag attached to it with a plastic peg.

“Spin the wheel, spin the wheel!” chants Savage waving a thick glass in the air. 

Skyfire is as red as her coat and she sways slightly. “It’s too hot,” murmurs Skyfire, “Can’t we go somewhere with a lower temperature?” 

“The air-con’s on full blast!” calls out Savage.

Leonhardt smiles and spins the metal thing. The plastic bag goes spinning around when it stops at Ayerscarpe.  “Bout time,” he mutters as he pushes aside his little plate of edamame pods. He slams a glass on the table. Leonhardt pours out a yellow liquid from the silver bag. Ayerscarpe chugs it whole as everyone else on the table drinks as well.

“It really does taste like piss. Terrible goon Leonhardt,” says Ayerscarpe. He pulls his little plate of edamame pods back towards him and eats pods of green beans whole. 

Utage's sitting next to Ayerscarpe. “That’s really not how you eat edamame,” she says as she wrinkles her nose. Ayerscarpe shrugs and continues chewing it, pod by pod. Utage looks at him in disgust.  

“Of course it tastes like arse up piss. It’s amazing we even got a box of goon Ayers,” says Leonhardt. 

“Ehhh, you c****s should have used the Snack Express. It's always guaranteed,” says Savage. Skyfire laughs as her head slams into the table.  

“She’s out!” calls out Savage as she leans down to touch her. “Ouch! She’s hot!” cries Savage.  

Orchid and Spot rush over with fire blankets and wrap Skyfire  in them.  “What’s going on here?” I ask as I run over. Cardigan zooms there and stands in front of me protectively as I skid to a stop. Steward is just behind us, having been slowed down by resetting the chairs and tables Cardigan knocked over. 

"Hey Doctor!" calls out Leonhardt. “Care to join us?” says Leonhardt, “We’re playing a traditional Eureka drinking game.” Savage elbows Leonhardt and he rolls his eyes. “It’s a traditional Eureka and Rim Billiton drinking game,” he says with a laugh. 

“What are the rules? Is that why you have this metal thing on my beautiful oak table?” I ask.

“It’s called a hills hoist! The winner spins it and wherever the goon bag lands, that person has to drink the whole glass and everyone else has to drink a half glass.” says Leonhardt. 

“And how many rounds have you been on?” I ask as Orchid and Spot prop up Skyfire in her fire blankets. Her head wobbles slightly. Spot sighs as he applies healing arts. The sobriety slowly dawns in her eyes and she begins to wobble off.

“It doesn’t really matter. This goon bag isn’t even half empty. You guys can join in now if you like,” says Leonhardt. 

“She can make it back to her room,” says Spot with a shrug, “She’s mostly sober I think.” Orchid raises an eyebrow and her heels clack against the floor as she follows Skyfire out while holding onto the fire blanket. 

Ayerscarpe shrugs and raises his hand.  “Oi! Leizi! Wanna join?” he yells across Club Midnight. Leizi glares at him and she doesn't move at all from her counter seat. Elyisum hands her a smoothie. 

“You’ve been asking her to shock you too many times,” says Savage, “Give the woman a break. You’re gonna get banned from the power plants.”

“Persistence is key,” says Ayerscape with a shrug.

“Hmmm, let’s get some more players in. Hey Provence!” calls out Leonhardt.

“Yeah?” she calls out from across the bar. 

"Wanna play goon of fortune?!" He shouts.

“Sure!” she says cheerfully. She walks over to us.  Utage waves rapidly at someone. Courier waves back at us and joins us.

“Ok. So Savage, Ayers, Utage, Provance, Doctor, Steward and you newbies are?” says Leonhardt.

“Courier of Karlan Trading,” says Courier. 

"I'm Cardigan!" She says cheerfully as she readjusts her ski goggles. 

“Ok, so more players,” says Leonhardt, “Hey Midnight! Can I have three more glasses and two bottles of wine?”

Midnight smiles at Leonhardt from the bar. Ayerscarpe sighs “It’s going on your tab,” he says dourly.  Catapult comes over and places three glasses before us and the bottles of wine before us. We all take out our lanyards and tap them on Catapult’s reader. Everyone gets the green beep.

“Ok, the rules, new players,” says Leonhardt, "Drink half a glass every time the hills hoist is spun. Whoever it lands on, drains their glass. Keep those glasses filled up. Now Ayers - spin!”

Ayerscarpe spins the hills hoist and the plastic bag lands on Savage. She chugs cheerfully as the rest of us just drink half. The goon? It’s rather acidic. Tastes like cheap wine. Courier’s keeping his business smile on as he sips down the glass. I guess he doesn’t like it.  The next few spins land on Leonhardt who chugs his glass down. Savage refills it for him. 

“It’s kinda bad,” I whisper to Steward.

“Can’t complain if it’s free,” whispers Cardigan to me.  And so it spins on my beautiful table.  It lands on Cardigan once but otherwise, I don’t really get much of a chance to drink. This game feels like one of Leonhardt’s pranks.

“Is this actually a Rim Billiton game?” I whisper to Cardigan. 

“Maybe? Ansel’s mentioned it once or twice,” she whispers back at me.  Courier nudges at me to drink. I’ve only had 4 glasses of wine in total I estimate.

Leonhardt’s had at least six glasses though this round. He sways slightly as he spins the Hills Hoist. Courier smiles at me and leans over. “Would you like to come to my room for an after party?” he whispers to me, “I’ve got some good whisky.”

“Can I bring along Steward and Cardigan?” I whisper back to him.

“They’re welcome to come along,” he whispers before nudging me to drink. 

“Cool. Hey Cardigan, Steward, wanna drink at Courier’s?” I whisper. The two of them nod.

“It’s getting boring here!” says Cardigan cheerfully. Leonhardt looks offended as Provence and Savage laugh.

“Maybe it is a lot more fun with fewer people and faster drinking?” says Steward with a slight hiccup. His face is flushed red which really shows through his white ears. 

“You’re burning up,” giggles Cardigan as she leans up to touch his ears gently. They both look up. “What’s that noise?” she asks. I shrug. It’s probably just a vent expresser. 

“Ok, I’m out,” I say out loud, “If this gets you guys drunk, man you guys are weak.” 

“Oh Doctor, you can’t leave yet,” cries Utage as she grabs onto my shoulders

“The wheel hasn’t landed on you!” cries out Leonhardt as he grabs me about the waist. Ayerscarpe pats him on the head. Savage tries to pry Leonhardt off me. I’m going to be here a while - he’s got drunk strength. The ducted air conditioning is really loud.

Savage grabs her hammer from off her back. I quail in my books when she’s tackled hard by a purple steak of fluff. “Not indoors,” slurs Provence, “Time and place for smashing.”

Courier wades in, prying Utage and Leonhardt off me. He practically flings me over his shoulder. I flash them all victory signs from his shoulder. "We’ll be going now,” says Courier with a grin. There is a loud thunk and Courier jumps to the side. The metal duct grate falls down and smashes itself on the table.

Midnight screams. I glare at him - he’s paying for the damages to my table. Courier pats me on the head. “Let's get outta here first,” he says to me. Cardigan jumps up and shields Steward as everyone else falls, forced to their knees. 

Projekt Red is standing on the table holding out a blade. Projekt Red’s exposed ear twitches as she draws out another blade - so quickly and points it up towards the vent. After a few minutes, everyone slowly gets back up to their feet. Well almost everyone. 

”W-what's that red one doing...? I... can't stop trembling... uh…” cries Provence. She trembles, her breathing quick and hasty.  

Savage leans down and props Provence’s arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here. Leave it to me!” she says cheerfully. 

Leonhardt tries to prop up Provence but he’s wasted and wobbly in my unprofessional judgement.  Ayerscarpe sighs as he grabs Leonhardt by the jacket collar. “Utage, help Savage,” he says gruffly.

“Danger here,” says Projekt Red simply.

“What type?” asks Courier.

“Grey one,” says Projekt Red. 

“Oh. Her. Too bad some people just can't let everyone live in peace,” says Courier while shaking his head. He sprints off, Projekt Red following him on the walls. 

Cardigan scoops up Steward over her shoulder and runs after us. “Who are we running away from?” she yells. Steward belches as he takes out his wand from his holster. Thank terra the bar lets everyone keep their weapons on them as long as you don’t go into the binge drink room.

“Some grey one!” I shout, “Lappland?”

“Yeah, Lappland,” says Courier, “Your orders Doctor.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” I ask Courier.

“Not at all,” says Courier.

I take a deep breath. Ok. This is just an operation like any other. Not a squad I would have picked up but can’t be helped. Sometimes you’ve just got to work with the hands you’re dealt. I pull up a map of the level on my visor. The way we’re headed, there’s a bottleneck near the dormitory area. I highlight Dorm Rooms and I see Courier’s name flash on the map. 

“Ok. Operation start! Courier! Navigate us to your dorm room corridor. Everyone else, follow my orders. We’re stunning!” I call out. I pull up the list of operators and turn on the GPS tags for Courier, Steward, Cardigan, Projekt Red and Lappland. I wince when Lappland’s tag flashes - she’s really really fast. 

As we turn the corner to the bottleneck, I fiddle with my drone so it projects an image of the last photo I took - one of the Interns and Junior Resident’s office. Ok. I hope this works. Courier makes a sharp turn left then stops. I look up to see that Projekt Red is on the wall. She jumps off with a nod at me and Courier. 

  “Wow you’re fast,” says Cardigan as she catches up. Steward nods at me with a thumbs up. 

“Courier’s bedroom is the bottleneck,” I say, “Courier stop here. You’re van. I’ll teleport you at Lappland. Projekt Red, on the ceiling please. Cardigan, Courier in front of me. Ahh shit.  She’s here. Courier, I need you to guard the bottleneck.” 

Courier puts me down gently and out of the way behind Cardigan and Steward. “Please keep yourself out of harm’s way Doctor,” he says with a gentle smile before he dashes off to the front of the bottle neck. Cardigan lets Steward down gently. She pulls down her skill goggles then readies her shield and baton.

We hear boots clicking on the tiles and a sword being drawn. There’s a cackle - not from any of us. Steward takes a deep breath and grips onto his wand. 

“You're my opponent? Then please do your bestest job, or I'll be reeeally bored,” laughs Lappland. Her eyes are dilated, her ears are twitching furiously. Her tail is ramrod straight as she throws a wolf spirit at Courier. 

 Lappland dashes towards him and strikes at him. He parries her blow. Lappland is fast which puts Courier primarily on the defensive as he gets a few strikes in - but not that many. “Courier! Command Defence!” I yell. He braces himself and he blocks Lappland’s attack.

I’m warm and my jacket is glowing blue. I take a deep breath as I mentally grab the outlines of Steward’s image and thrust it as hard as I can, in the spot just behind Lappland. Steward lands right behind Lappland. “Got it. Freeze.” he mutters as he throws a few snow white arts bolts at Lappland and then a charged up power shot.  It doesn’t do much other than attracting her notice.

I scrabble around trying to grab Lappland’s image but it’s fuzzy, she’s too fast. She’s turning around quickly. I turn and quickly grab Cardigan’s image in my mind. I throw out my arm. Cardigan lands right in front of Steward. “Understood!” she calls out as she braces herself. She raises her shield quickly just as Lappland swings her sword down. 

“Ha, you people... I don't even remember your faces. Whatever, let's go, huh?” says Lappland with a manic smile. 

“Your attacks have no effect!” laughs Cardigan. Her eyes are alert, darting back and forth desperately. I didn’t give Cardigan enough alcohol for this. Courier’s striking but it’s not doing much to Lappland. That’s fine. I like Lappland. I just need her away from Reddy.

“Hiya Doctor, Courier, I think I saw a red shadow flash by just now, ” says Lappland as her grin widens and she turns around to strike everyone with those damned wolf spirits. 

“RED!” I call out. 

“Speed. Wolfpack,” murmurs Projekt Red as she jumps on top of Lappland, "You have no way out.". Lappland staggers, stunned and still for once. Her eyes widen as her face gives a cheerful grin with way too much teeth. But that’s ok.

Got it.

I use both hands to grab onto Lappland’s image. I focus on the drone’s projection and throw Lappland at it. My hands thrust out through the projection. A faint blue haze drapes over Lappland and she disappears from sight.

I drop to my knees gasping.  “It’s over,” I wheeze. 

“Where did she go?” asks Courier.

“Medical interns,” I say shortly. 

“You threw that freer at Ansel?” says Cardigan with a face.  

“Cardigan stop it.  Well, it was a smart decision Doctor,” says Steward. His bandana slipped off so the black glint of his infection shows. He struggles to readjust his bandana and just leaves it.  “But I’m rather sore at the moment. Is there anywhere we can rest or heal up?”

“Guess we can still hold that afterparty,” says Courier wryly. He walks down the corridor and  presses his lanyard to the keylock. Cardigan stretches and pulls Steward. Projekt Red tries to hoist me up but she fails. I get up on my own. We all stagger into Courier’s Bedroom.

“ I can’t believe we just did that,” said Cardigan, as she falls down on the floor, belly down.

“She was going easy on us,” says Courier as he cracks his neck, “She was just trying to get to her goal.”

“What was her goal then?” asks Cardigan.

 Courier shrugs as he puts a first aid kit down on the floor.  “I’ll get us some drinks,” he says softly. Projekt Red prowls around the room looking as disgruntled as ever. Steward opens up the first aid kit and smiles gently at Projekt Red. She shakes her head and sits down on the floor next to me. Steward moves over to Cardigan but she shakes her head. He nods at her and begins fixing up his scratches. 

“Should we report Lappland to HR? Aren’t fights only meant to be at the Fight Club or Training Grounds? ” asks Steward as Courier comes out with cans of alcoholic soft drink, a bottle of whisky, glasses and some ice cubes. Courier shrugs as he puts his tray in the middle then sits right next to me. He pours himself some whisky. 

Cardigan reaches out eagerly for a can. “Wew! I needed this! Lappland sobered me right up!” she says with a laugh, “Wow, it’s pretty strong for a alchopop.”

Courier hands me a glass of whisky. I take a sip from it and hand it back to him. I shake my head as Projekt Red reaches out for two cans. She hands one to me. She looks at her can carefully, turning it over and over. Steward stands up to put the first aid kit aside before he pours himself a glass of whisky. 

“HR has been really antsy and forcing anyone in an unauthorised fight into mediation, regardless of the instigator,” I said thoughtfully as I snapped my can open. I sip it - wow, it’s nine percent. I look at the side - the text is Higashi. Huh. I can read bits and pieces of it but that was a side effect of proto-Doctor.

I look at Projekt Red as she reads the ingredients on her can. I remember her pre-public Operator File and shake my head. “Don’t tell anyone else this but Lappland has it out for Projekt Red here,” I say deliberately, “If we tell HR, they might force them to do reconciliation meetings and such like even if Lappland’s clearly hostile to Reddy. Knowing Lappland, she can mask it until she gets what she wants - a fight with Projekt Red. It’s going to end up with a massive fight in the HR office and Projekt Red getting blamed for it. ”

‘So why is Lappland after you so much?" asked Cardigan on the floor as she reaches for another can.

“Soft voice,” says Steward to Cardigan. She nods. I tilt my head. “Ah, Projekt Red just prefers quiet voices,” he says to me. 

“Lappland and Projekt Red have no pack,” she says while holding onto the can.

“Can’t you fight her? Aren’t you stronger?” asks Steward, “You were really strong back in Chernoborg.”

"Not allowed to fight other operators without instructions from the Executive Staff of Rhodes Island," she says disgruntledly, "Not allowed to evaluate threats on my own anymore. Instructed not to harm Lappland unless in self defence.”

“That’s right,” I say, trying to make my voice as soft as possible but still audible, “You can’t just eliminate every threat, you need to assess and consult. Just eliminating might just make it a bigger threat. Remember Ifrit? Luckily Frostleaf was there.”

Projekt Red nods. “I like Frostleaf,” says Projekt Red simply as she puts the can down, “Her tail smells nice.” 

“Do you want a different drink?” asks Courier to Projekt Red. 

“I have instructions not to drink alcohol,” she says. 

“Normally she’s only allowed to eat and drink Rhode Island approved things,” I say quickly, “She’s got a very particular diet. But since today’s a special day of hiding things from HR. Projekt Red, do you want to try this alcoholic soft drink?”

She tilts her head and then nods. She opens the can and smiles a very tiny smile.  “I want to try alcohol,” she says.

“Doctor Kal’tsit doesn’t let you have alcohol?” asks Courier.

“I agreed not to drink alcohol until after twenty one,” she says as she cracks the can. I look at it. It’s lime flavoured.

“Don’t you like cherry?” I ask her quickly. She looks at me with a raised eyebrow and takes a tiny sip. I shrug, “All good, drink whatever you like. So how do you guys all know each other?”

“We talk on operations,” says Courier, “Lappland talks about her alot on Trading post shifts.”

“We met Projekt Red in Chernobog. She borrows books from the Doctor’s Library,” says Steward, “She’s become quite good at Kjragan. She also attends the story telling sessions.”

“Frostleaf reads,” says Projekt Red softly, “She reads to me and explains things in her soft voice.” 

Projeckt Red leans over to Courier. He holds his hand out which butts her head. “Whoah girl,” he says slightly startled. Projekt Red looks at him in confusion. Courier smiles the same smile I’ve seen him give Leizi when she complains to the Delivery section.

“Doctor?” asks Projekt Red as she lifts her head up and resume her former position.

“Yes?”

“Why does he smell different?” she asks nodding at Courier. Courier blushes and drinks his can faster. Cardigan’s ears perk up in interest. Steward is politely focusing on his drink but I can see his left hand moving to restrain Cardigan by the handle on her jacket if need be.

“Well everyone smells different,” I say, “Does he smell different to you today or does he smell different to everyone else?”

Projekt Red takes some time to think about. Cardigan and I lean over to crack open some new cans of alcohol pop for ourselves. “Stronger,” she murmurs, “The same but different in strength.”

I grin to myself. “Homework time! Tell us what everyone here in this room smells like!” I exclaim. Courier has his business smile virtually stamped on at this point. Projekt Red nods then leans over to me, taking small little sniffs. 

“Doctor smells like roses, desert, blood and originium,” says Projekt Red. She gets up and walks around Cardigan crouching low. Cardigan sits up as though that would help Projekt Red smell better. “Pines. Snow. Cherry jam doughnut,” she says to Cardigan.

Cardigan gives her a thumbs up. “That’s right! Can I hug you Projekt Red?" Asks Cardigan. 

Project Red nods slightly. “Watch your hand. I might hurt you by accident,” she says softly. 

Cardigan hugs Projekt Red and Projekt Red gives a small smile.“Do Steward next!” says Cardigan eagerly. 

“Projekt Red, would you like to fluff my tail as you smell?” asks Steward kindly as she walks around him. Projekt Red’s ear perks up as Cardigan smiles and Courier’s smile looks a bit stiffer on his face.

“Can I?” she asks in a small voice.

“Of course,” he says. Cardigan slips down and waggles Steward’s tail enticingly towards Projekt Red. Projekt Red slowly stands up. Her tail wags as she swiftly approaches and reverently touches his tail. 

“I thought vulpos don’t like having their tails touched,” whispers Courier to me as we watch Projekt Red stroke and then bury her face in Steward’s tail. Steward gives a small sigh and pours himself some more whisky.

“Columbian vulpos and high society ones don’t. Think it’s a cultural thing. Don’t worry, Team Reserve A4 are together,” I said.

“You mean?” he asks me in confusion.

“It works for them,” I say with a shrug, drowning the rest of my alcoholpop. I crush the can in my gloved fist. 

“Smells nice,” says Projekt Red blissfully as she strokes Steward’s tail, “Snow, greenhouses, earth, lilies.”

“Well what does Courier smell like?” I ask mischievously. 

Projekt Red’s lone ear twitches upwards and she walks over to Courier. She sniffs him and then sniffs him again curiously. His smile seems stiff as she walks around him, sniffing him here and there. He gasps when she leans right up to him, her face right up close to his. I tilt my head. She’s only had half a can and they’re only nine percent. Must be Courier’s smell.

“Woods. Forest. Hunting. Moss. Hungry.” she says. I can see her eyes are slightly dilated and she’s panting, quite heavily. Her hands dig into his coat and the material bunches as she leans in to sniff his chest. Courier’s smile has slipped off, his fangs are protruding. He stares right into her eyes and lets out a deep breath. Projekt Red lets out a low growl which reverberates through all of us.

My eyes widen underneath my visor - I can smell a light floral smell from Courier. That smell is growing stronger - even Steward can smell it, judging by the way his ears twitch forward. 

Ok. They’ve clearly forgotten about us. Courier makes a tiny light growl and his ears twitch forward. He flips Projekt Red over and pins her down. I stand up and I nod to Steward. He gently reaches out and tugs onto Cardigan’s jacket. She follows Steward obediently as he leads her out of Courier’s room. 

“Do you want this Projekt Red?” I say softly. Projekt Red nods at me then flips Courier. Her hood falls off as she straddles him. She tilts her head back and forth, carefully examining him. She yanks down Courier’s scarf, leans over and bites him on the neck. 

“Easy there,” says Courier as he’s flapping his hand rapidly at me. I’ve seen more than enough. I run out of his room. Steward and Cardigan are standing outside the door. “GO GO GO,” I whisper frantically at Steward and Cardigan, making sure the door is shut. Steward darts down the corridor, holding on to Cardigan who has overtaken him. A piercing, guttural howl follows us. As we run down the corridor, we can hear the sound of operators approaching their doors to find out what that sound was. 

“Is it ok to leave them?” asks Cardigan, “She’s not very verbal usually.”

“Seems fine,” I said, “Dr Kal’tsit’s probably birded her already. And they were both telling me to leave anyway. Well he was. I don’t think she cares if there’s an audience. ”

When we duck into the elevator, we burst into laughter to the surprise of Absinthe. Absinthe stares at us but she gets off at the next stop. When she leaves, we burst into a fresh round of laughter. “What a day!” I laugh, “Now where can I drop the two of you off?”

“Well it’s almost 5am Doctor,” says Steward as he presses on the elevator button “I don’t know about you but I need a nap. I’m getting o ld.”

“No, you’re not Steward. But I do feel kinda slow,” grumbles Cardigan. 

“You can walk us to my room,” says Steward, “I’m in the second level dormitories, just down from General Practice.”

My breath catches slightly. Steward grasps my hand with a reassuring smile. “Thank you for your concern Doctor,” says Steward. Cardigan looks like she’s about to start crying. Steward puts his arm around Cardigan and she leans in tightly. I hold onto Steward’s free hand tight and try not to look at his arm and the little black growths on it.

“Ahh, we’ve had all too much to drink,” laughs Steward, “She’s usually good about it but when she’s had too much to drink, she thinks about what we can’t do, not what we can do. ”

“Doesn’t it form part of your identity?” I say in a small voice as we leave the elevator.

Steward frowns, “No, not for me,” he says measuredly, “But you can’t really know how the infected are treated unless you live it. You can see why it happens. Adnachiel has some interesting theories on that. It’s why he’s in the Chapel.”

“Maybe I should try talking to him some time,” I say.

“It’s always good to have a different perspective,” says Steward. He knocks on the door and then presses his palm to it a few times futilely.

“Your glove is still on,” I say.

“Ah right,” says Steward as he takes off his glove. I try not to look at the cracks on his hand. Adnachiel is still in his pjs when he opens the door. 

 "Just dropping something off," I say. He raises an eyebrow at me when Steward and Cardigan stumble in and crash in the same bed. They curl up around each other, their tails intertwined. Adnachiel yawns and peels the two of them off the bed. Adnachiel gently scratches the base of Steward’s ear. “Brush your teeth first and then get changed,” he says as he removes Steward’s wand pouch and Cardigan’s baton, “Doctor could you help me here?”. 

I put the weapons on the weapons rack as Adnachiel gently pushes them into the bathroom. Cardigan stumbles so Adnachiel grabs her about the waist. Cardigan makes kissy faces at Adnachiel. 

 “No kisses,” says Adnachiel as he steadies her.  Cardigan pouts and stumbles off to the sink where Steward’s already brushing his teeth. Steward’s eyes aren’t focused as he slaps on his skincare - guess he does it on autodeploy. 

“No looking Doctor,” says Adnachiel as I see Cardigan taking off her jacket. Adnachiel steers me over to the entrance, “They’ll be fine from here.”

I stare at Adnachiel with a “（ 人・ω・)” on my visor. Adnachiel walks over to the fridge and takes out a cream pull.

“You can have this cream puff,” says Adnachiel as he places it in my hands, “It’s fine, I’ll look after them from here. ”

I skip off with my cream puff when I run into Ansel down the corridor. He takes a look at me and shakes his head.

“I guess you got another snack after all,” he says with a sigh.

Chapter Text

"Ptilopsis found a copy on the library database,' said Silence abruptly. She held out a USB. "‘Electric Me’. It is a copy of Doctor of Kazdel's manifesto.” 

"I had forgotten about that," said Shining with a frown, "it was a limited circulation manuscript, written in the ancient Kazdel' language."

"Did you ever read it?" I asked. 

"Parts of it," said Shining. 

I took the usb and turned it over and over in my hands. "Well, I do want to find out what I may have been like," I said in a small voice, "Shining could you also read it?"

“Right now?” she said. 

“Yes.”

“And then what happened?”

"The crossbow goes flying out of the Plastic Knight’s hand!" says Nearl dramatically, thrusting with an imaginary sword. 

Ifrit's eyes shine. Ptilopsis is staring intently at Ifrit. Silence is pretending to read from her electronic reader but her eyes are shut and her head nodding. I squirm on the floor. 

Ouch! Book jab! 

I remove the book and look at it. There’s an Ursus detective grasping a swooning male feline in her hands on the cover. Ah. It looks like Istina’s. Shining clears the rest of the books away from my body. 

“We have been reading since noon. It may be time for a break.” she says. She looks at Ifrit and Nearl and smiles slightly. “Well most of us have been reading.”

I nod and sort out the books into piles. Borrowed from operators. Borrowed from Shining, Nearl and Nightingale. Borrowed from Silence, Ifrit and Mayer. I sort the books out then put my visor back on my face to sort out my ebooks. I’ve read most of the ebooks so it’s fine. I close tab after tab when Electric Me pops up again.

I take a deep breath. I close it and hide it away in my database.  I take another deep breath. I turn around to see Ifrit waving h er arms excitedly. 

 “To be a knight is to be the noble light that illuminates the land,” says Nearl proudly.

“That sounds silly,” says Ifrit, “Was she really the Radiant Knight Ptilo?”

“Affirmative,” says Ptilopsis.

“Oh yeah, you used to follow the Knight League,” said Ifrit, “I liked the Flame Tail knight best!”

“And why did you like the Flame Tail Knight?” asked Shining from the kitchenette. 

“Because she has a flame tail!” said Ifrit excitedly. She leans back, her arms waving about. She knocks down my piles of books. She glares angrily at me.

“It's fine Ifrit,” I say quickly, “Can you help me stack them back up?”

“Fine,” she says rolling her eyes, “Then, can someone help us take Silence back?”

“Of course,” says Nearl as she helps stack the books back into position. Many hands - light work. The book stacks are back there. Ifrit stands up and stretches. She runs to the entrance to  reequips on her flame wand. Ptilopsis stands there ready but unmoving. 

Nearl walk over to the kitchenette and kisses Shining on the cheek. “I will be attending my shift after assisting Ifrit and Ptilopsis,” she whispers. Shining nods at her with a quick fond smile. Nearl quietly walks over to the couch and picks up Silence in her arms. Ifrit hovers over, her arms on her hips.

 Ptilopsis moves to the entrance of the dorm room. “I shall navigate,” she says. Nearl nods at her and follows her out of the room with Ifrit. 

I take off my visor and stare at Shining.  Shining nods at me as she arranges a tray. Looks like she’s making a coffee tray for us. 

“Today was an unusual opportunity,” she says as she looks at her kettle.

“It was. I think I’m largely up to date with pop culture. For at least four mobile cities.”

“Is that so? Which book did you like best?”

“Hmmm, probably Projekt Red’s to be honest,” I say, holding up a book, “It’s ‘The Little Monarch’ in the original. She was originally insistent that I have Frostleaf read it to me.”

"Projekt Red? Well, that is quite a refined choice for her. Did you finish reading our original goal? " She asks quietly.

"I did. "

Silence turns around to spoon coffee into empty waiting mugs. I look down at my hands and get up. I put my visor onto the coffee table and tap on the side so it will automatically record. I flop on the couch, back down. 

“I had one of those dreams again,” I said quietly. 

“What happened in the dream?” she asks the kettle pings. She begins pouring hot water into the mugs.  

“Roses. I was with Amiya in a desert area, riding in an open buggy wheel. Cold winds, perfect day. A cauctus woman approaches us and pelts us with roses. Then the roses talk to me but I don’t understand what they say” I say distantly, my hands over my eyes. If i close my eyes hard, I can see faint lines of lights that squirm to appear as roses. 

“Have you been worried lately?” she asks. 

“Shining? It’s me,” I say tartly. 

“My apologies, what is your most pressing concern at present?” she asks. I tilt my head back. Everything seems pressing. I can’t choose. Weird meetings. Amiya clearly not wanting me to meet people who may or may not be part of my past. 

Amiya stood there, business like. Her fingers slightly rotated her rings. Silverash held my face in his left hand. I tilted my head at him questioningly. He gently brushed my cheek with his gloved thumb as I flinched away from him. 

“A bit of dirt on your visor, my friend,” he said in his low melodic voice.

“My friend? I’ve never met you,” I said. My visor remained black. I extended my hand.

“I’m the Doctor.”

I guess it’s the loneliness of not being able to walk with myself.  “I don’t really know Silence. There’s too much at the moment. Does that count as a worry?” I mutter.

“ Did you go back to sleep after that?” asks Shining as she places the tray before us on the coffee table. She picks up a mugs of coffee and settles herself into a side chair. 

“Yeah. I think so. At least I don’t remember.” I say absently. I turn around and lie on my side. 

“You don’t remember?”

 
“There’s a lot I don’t. A lot I’m supposed to though.” 

The doorbell rings. Shining moves towards the door bell. I turn around, my face to the couch back. Shining walks back to the coffee table. She puts the package down and opens it.

“Well Doctor, thank you for the whisky and cigars,” she says.

“No problem,” I say, “You’ve done a lot for me. ”

Silence nodded at Shining as she tapped at the scans. Shining nodded at her. 

“There’s something important I have to tell you Doctor,” said Shining quietly. 

I sat up straight. Shining stood up and put a finger on her lips. She held her staff. A shining honeycomb structure surrounded the two of us, blocking out my drones.

“You’re sterile. From the signs, it appears to be a procedure your past self had performed.” 

Her protection fell. I stared at her. Silence nodded her head gravely at me.  “Why the arts?” I said jovially. Shining nodded towards my drones. I took a deep breath.

“We felt you should know,” said Silence. 

“Is there… anything else I should know?” I asked hesitantly. 

Shining shook her head. “Not at present. Your stay in the sarcophagus appeared to have restored you to full physical health,” she said, “It does not appear to heal voluntary procedures although this is mere speculation.”

“ It does not exclude the possibility of head trauma received in the sarcophagus,” said Silence gravely, “All we can do is keep on observing. ”

“Hey guys,” I say in a small voice.

“Yes Doctor?”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you Doctor. However, I note that there is a Karlan Trading logo on the bottom of the box," she says. 

"Yeah I re gifted. And in the fullness of time, you too will regift these," I laugh. Shining shakes her head and gently pats me on the head. I sniffle then burst out into tears. Shining passes me a box of tissues. I sniff and blow my nose into them.

“What’s this?” I asked Amiya.

“It’s a gift that’s passed the declaration process,” she said.

“Declaration?”

“Every time there’s a gift of a certain value to an executive employee, gifts are forwarded and declared. The mail room inspects and records the gift. Just to prevent anti-corruption.”

“Am I an executive now?” I mused as I opened up the package. Amiya nodded.  A beautiful bottle of whisky and a box of cigars sat in front of me.

“It’s from Silverash. I guess he’s trying to get on my good side like any good warlord,” I muttered.

“Did Silverash ever get involved in Kazdel’s politics?” I ask. 

“I personally do not know however it is likely. All politicians get involved in one another’s politics," said Shining.

“”Urgh what’s that word again? It's like when everyone is fighting to get a finger into a pie. I call it power grubbing," I say, "it sounds like such a good word. It's an Ifrit word."

"Ifrit? That reminds me Doctor, did you ever raise with her the issue of her book criticism methods?" 

"Yeah, I mean I kinda did? I raised it with Closure. Oh yeah - did you feel something funny about her weapon?" I ask. 

"It is a Rhine Labs invention," said Shining. 

"Rhine Labs?” I ask.

“Doctor Silence would be better able to inform you, as she was a former employee. Rhine Labs inventions hold a high reputation due to their optimized Originium transmission efficiency. Their branded personal devices are quite popular - even among Rhodes Island employees,” says Shining.

“Hmmmm, I would imagine that her medical practices and yours are completely different. And they in turn would be completely different to Rhodes," I muse.

"There are differences," agreed Shining, "But we are forever learning. The dedication and reliability of the Rhodes Island Operators to learn new and different techniques is admirable. By learning from one another, we can do more than merely heal wounds."

The psychologist looked meaningfully at Silence. Silence stared at the brain scans hung up on the light box as Shining looked at me thoughtfully.

“Well Doctor, would you like to try cognitive rehabilitation?” asked Silence.

I twisted my fingers around and around and stare at my gloved fingers. Shining placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I guess so.” 

"I guess so" I say, leaning my head in my hands. Here goes. I take a deep breath.

"There is another dream I did want to ask you," I said distantly as I picked up a mug of coffee. 

"Yes doctor?"

I take a small sip from my coffee. It scalds but I barely notice it. I put the cup of coffee down and stay, taking in the small details of the kitchenette. 

"I'm hiding in a small room with 12F. We're waiting, just waiting. I get bored and I walk down corridors into a bright light. When the light clears away, there’s a throne. No one sits on it and as I walk around and around it, I see small crowns illuminated at the base. A sarkaz woman suddenly appears before me in a burst of bright light. She smiles and pelts me with roses that drown me.”

I take a deep breath after that long paragraph. Shining clenches her coffee cup. She doesn’t respond, she just stares at her coffee. After, what I later discover to have been five minutes, she looks at me. 

"Doctor, this dream may be a memory. Do not reveal that you have dreamt it," she says in a measured voice. 

I nod at her and sip my coffee cup. 

Chapter Text

“You’re not  what I expected,” laughed Warfarin.
 

I turned my head to face my arm. The dark red blood flows slowly down the tube and into the small vial Warfarin held upright.  I turned my head to face the basket of belongings where my jacket and visor are.

 
“Well what did you expect?” I asked, my voice sharp, “Can we finish up quickly?”

 
“Well I expected your blood not to sparkle? It’s so shiny.  Look Aak!” she said with a cackle. Aak moved over and tilted his head. He cackled. Warfarin removed the needle from my arm and dabbed at my arm with a piece of gauze with a green liquid. The puncture closed up immediately.

 
Aak and Warfarin continued cackling as they moved about the Blood Bank. I flexed my left hand up and down.
 

I flex my gloved hands and wriggle my fingers. I shake my head and hop out of the Priestess unit. My sanity levels are fine. Excessive – 545/125 but fine. It’s fine. I’m just too sane for everyone. I crack open a sanity potion and sip it slowly. Grasping the vial by the neck, I step over the empty sanity potion bottles and clamber back into the Priestess unit.

 
I pull up the Operations screen. I guess I’ll send out Doc Ops for battle record resources now. I click start and examine the roster screen. Guess they might as well fight again, they’re already on site.

I chug the rest of the sanity potion down and throw the empty bottle on the heap. I pat my pockets down and sigh. I don’t have anymore on me – that was probably my last one.

The squad’s been on a similar mission before so I just have to monitor for errors. Bless Priestess’s error risk function – it means I don’t have to pay attention.  Priestess will tell me if there’s an error risk anyway. It seems to be going smoothly. I look at the tiny figures. Grani glows, she’s activated her skill. Zima roars and Grani slices and blocks with greater fervour. They know what they’re doing. That’s good because I don’t. Zima looks so small and young. Despite her bluster and her confidence – I forget she’s like only fourteen or fifteen.

 
“Child soldiers with health care,” Ayerscarpe said, “But considering the state of terra, Rhodes Island is as good an orphanage as any other.” He picked up his beer, stared moodily into it then took a swig from it. 
 

“O__O” flashed my visor.  Provence slammed her empty cocktail glass down on the coaster. Her tail bristled. Leonhardt laughed and put a hand on Provence’s shoulder. He beckoned at Midnight who put a purple cocktail before Provence. She sighed, picked it up to sip while  pointedly ignoring Ayerscarpe.

 
“I guess it’s true,” I said with a sigh as I stared at my chocolate milk cocktail.

 
Leonhardt shrugged as he knocked back his beer. “That’s just the way Terra is in most places. You fight unless you’re rich and uninfected. Even then sometimes you fight. Well,  we were fighting at their age,” he pointed out, “Without health care or education to boot.”

 
“Yeah but that’s because you were a delinquent,” growled Ayerscarpe, “Eureka health care doesn’t cover self inflicted wounds.

“They were mere wounds for justice,” Leohardt says with a dramatic gasp,  “I fight for the future”.

“A world where children don’t have to fight would be nice,” said Provence sadly, “Do you think they will fight, Doctor?”

 
I clench my fists. They will fight. They will fight. They trust me enough so I can use them like this.  I gasp and flick over the operation screens. Let’s do a cargo mission – they’re all adults in that auto deploy squad. The bile rises in my throat and I shudder as I hit “Operation Start”.

As I monitor, a Rhodes Island Network message notification pops up. It’s from W.

 
“Thanks for the Promotion,” it reads, “As long as you don't remember what happened on that day, the two of us can get along after all.”
 

She keeps saying that. If I remember who I am. I am who I am. I am. 

In the chapel I held a candle with Frostnova’s name carved into it. I see W, in front of me. She lit a rose shaped candle and reverently placed it in a memorial hole. She turned around. Her eyes glinted angrily but the fury died down rapidly. She quickly smiled at me and pointed to the Memorial Hall.

 
“You shouldn’t light candles here,” she said lightly, “You shouldn’t  pay tribute to those you don’t know.”

 
“I don’t,” I say. W nodded at me.

 
“Is your life really that leisurely without memories of the past? Well, I suppose it’s good you don’t remember. Otherwise you would have to pay for your actions,” she said for a farewell.

 
I crept out to the front of the chapel and walked to see her footsteps die away. I walk back to the Wall of Memorial and take a good look. The hole she lit the candle in? It’s the hole that was next to mine – of a white haired sarkaz lady.

 
I tilted my head. Inside my memorial hole, there’s a little message carved into the wood.

 
“They will pay.”

 
I can’t pay for actions that I didn’t do. But maybe… they’re all waiting for The Doctor. The Doctor to come back. And the concentration of vengeance and judgement will pour upon our heads. Can I deflect it? Well my mere existence is deflecting it – if I’m here, Doctor 000 isn’t here. It’s hard to be better than the dead. I can’t even put two brain cells together. I have brain cells I can’t access.
 

“Operation Finish” blasts Priestess.

 
I stared at the CCTV monitors. One of the squares caught my eye. It is of Silverash and Amiya emerging from the Chapel. I flicked the sound to become a direct feed to my visor. 
 

“Did the Doctor  of Kazdel inform you of our relationship?” asked Silverash coldly. 

Amiya shook her head. “No but I could guess. They were my Guardian,” she said in a sweet voice. Silverash sighs and nods at her.  “If they trusted you, they would have told you,” she continues on, her head tilted at Silverash, “What it means to be infected.”

 
“I had an idea,” he said. 

“No you don’t. You’re not infected,” said Amiya with a crack in her voice, although her face remained neutral as always, “To be infected is to disappear and die. We’re always prepared for each other’s death. To enter the sarcophagus is commit suicide. Silverash. My Doctor… Our….  no… The Doctor of Kazdel has well and truly disappeared.”

 
I don’t want to disappear.

 
I stare at the ceiling of my priestess unit. I feel tears dripping down my cheeks. Snot is slipping down my nose. I sniff hard but the mucus keeps falling out. Why am I crying? I’ve worked harder, done harder things. Have I become weak? I can’t become weak. I can’t. I just have to do what I can do.

 
The Doctor of Kazdel wouldn’t be like that.

 
But that’s not me. I force the dry heaving sobs down my throat as I start yet another operation. It’s going well, it’s going well, all these programs that I wrote on top of the Doctor of Kazdel’s programs.

That’s not my work.

That’s not me.

 
I rummage through my pockets and touch a cigar. It was from Silverash. I crush it in my hand and throw it on the growing trash pile outside my priestess unit.

That’s not me.
 

“That’s not me, that’s not me, that’s not me,”  I sobbed on the west helipad. 
 

“My friend,” said Silverash distressed.  He put down the box of cigars and attempted to approach me. I flinched and curled up in a ball. Silverash reached a gloved hand towards me. I struggle to inch away from him. He took a step back and gestured at Matterhorn.

 
Projekt Red landed in front of me, a blade held out. Courier and Matterhorn shield Silverash. They stagger from her stunning.  “Doctor, your orders. Eliminate threat?” she said simply while she held out her blade. 

 
Frostleaf and Silence came running. “Stand down Projekt Red!” yelled Frostleaf.  She slid in between Projekt Red and Courier, her arms stretched. Projekt Red slowly lowered and resheathed her blade. Courier and Matterhorn lowered down their  respective sabre and shields. Silence slipped in behind Frostleaf. She sprayed me in the face with her drone.

 
There is silence.  My body is limp on the ground. Projekt Red sniffed at me, her lone ear twitched. She attempted to lift me off the ground but my limp body just slumped on the ground.
 

“Matterhorn, emergency ward two,” said Silence. Matterhorn nodded as he walked over carefully to pick me up. Frostleaf and Projekt Red flank him off with him. Silverash moved to follow us. Silence stopped him with her arm out.

 
“No Silverash,” she said.
 

“The Doctor,” he begins.

 
“The Doctor will ask to see you when they’re ready,” she said.

 
“Are you ready?”

 
“Redeploy. Same mission. Same squad,” I say into my mic.

 
“Doctor? Is all well?” asks Shining in a Rhodes Island network message.

 
“It’s fine Shining. Just rest up,” I send back.

 
Amiya and I looked glumly at  the table. There’s a box of fancy cigars, bottles of whisky, bottles of brandy, champagne and expensive chocolates.
 

“It’s all addressed to the Doctor of Karldez,” I said, “Who accepted delivery of these? Who told the mail room to send them here?”

 
“I told the mail room to send any mail addressed to non-Rhodes Island personnel to me,” said Amiya quietly as she examined the packages, “I placed it in your room as you may wish to decide what to do with these products.”

 
“Why should I have any input?” I snarled, “I’m not the Doctor of Karldez.”

 
“But you are still one of our field commanders,” said Amiya in conciliatory tones.

 
“Hah! Do you go to Dobermann with such enquiries?” I sneer.

 
“Yes I do. Also to Doctor Kal’tsit, Shining, Warfarin,” said Amiya.

 
“Oh,” I said in a deflated voice. I sighed and rubbed my head. “Sorry Amiya.”

 
“Apology accepted,” she said. Amiya looked at me. “Well, you shouldn’t push yourself Doctor.” she said hesitantly.

 
I shake my head. “Well, they’ll come in handy. Cigars and liquor make good bargaining tools. Give it all to Club Midnight but with a Exec sticker on everything but the champagne. They can have the champagne.” I said.

 
“Exec sticker?”

 
“A new thing I’ve done with Orchid and Midnight,” I said, “Anything with an exec sticker is on the house for executive staff during negotiations. So like gifts, liquid candy, the works.”

“Oh yes, I did read about that within your Dormitory Four proposal. It’s a good idea Doctor,” said Amiya.

 
“Well even I can have some good ideas. Why else did you retrieve me? It wasn’t to be a mascot,” I say suddenly and harshly.

 
Amiya looks at me steadily, hurt in her eyes.

 
“0/135 Sanity” blares my visor.

 
I slam my fist down. Damn it. I need LMD. LMD. I scream and scream.  My visor begins pinging with network messages. My chest burns and the air is knocked from my lungs.

 
Screw them. Screw them all.

 
Someone’s got their arms underneath my armpits. I thrash about trying to get free. I look up. Ansel is sliding me out of Priestess and onto a stretcher. “Doctor, you have to rest,” he says calmly, “I’ll take you back to your room after a check up.”

 
“No!” I scream. I thrash about harder but he holds on, his grip strong.

 
“You’ve remote commanded twenty auto deployment operations today alone. Your operators are exhausted and so are you,” says Ansel calmly and reasonably.

 
“I need to keep fighting. Give me a sanity potion,” I snarl as my words fight to come out of my flailing body.

 
“No.” says Ansel, “Doctor, you are going to finish up for today. We can take you back to your office if you like but you are finishing up for today.”

 
“You can’t make me,” I say belligerently.

 
“I’m exercising my professional judgement here. I’ll give you extra snacks for being a good Doctor,” says Ansel. 

 
I struggle to stand up as Ansel holds on to me. “I am perfectly fine,” I say as my legs crumple and I begin to slump.

 
Cardigan speeds over, her boots crunching against the broken plastic of the sanity potions. She picks up my feet and the two of them move me over the stretcher. “Come on Doctor,” she says cheerfully, “Relax and play. We’ll get the deep cleaners in, you’ve made this room look like Scavenger’s.”

 
I sit up and cling to her neck. She’s warm and comforting. She reminds me of being warm on cold days. “I could be working harder,” I mutter. 

 
“Doctor we all need to take breaks,” says Ansel gently, “Rest and play is all essential to us all.”

 
“I know but,” I say as I begin to sniffle. Ansel pats my head gently as I cling onto Cardigan’s neck. I burst into tears again. I didn’t know there was that much liquid in me, mucus and tears dribbling through my screen and onto Cardigan.

 
Cardigan picks me up in a princess carry, “There, there Doctor,” she says in a soothing voice, “Let’s go to the Convalescence garden,” she says to Ansel. Ansel hesitates then nods as he bends, folding up his mobile stretcher.

 
Cardigan holds onto me steadily as she hums a pop song while walking. My visor prickles with heat but I keep it on. I don’t want anyone to see me crying. Ansel clears people out of the way but I can still feel the stares of the standard Rhodes Island personnel. 

 
“We’re almost there,” says Ansel soothingly to me as he rubs my head, “Almost there.”

 
“They’re not my people,” I mutter at the staring operators. I ignore the stares by curling up into a ball, focusing my eyes on my browser visor. The blue of my desktop burns into my eyes.  I’m starting to realize why most people don’t use visor monitors but I’m not going to give it up.

 
I look at Ansel and Cardigan. Cardigan’s cheerful and her caring nature makes us overlook things – like her tendency to trip over everything if she’s not on the job. Ansel is by the book and regulations but because of that, he keeps everyone responsible. They’re not infected, their oripathy monitoring devices clearly show that. I don’t know why they volunteered to be Doctor’s Squadders.

 
I know the pay is good but it also means you go on constant missions through arts teleportation. So you’re exposed, over and over and over again. Is the pay is so good, they’ll take the calculated risk? Or is that the guarantee they will never die on the mission so good that they’ll risk dying horribly in the hospital bed? 

 
Ansel taps his pass to a door. I am carried into the convalescence garden. The current theme is The Secret Garden. It’s filled with little hiding holes and hooks for the hospital patients and children to hide and play in. 

 
“Why didn’t I send you two out? Why were you two near me?” I mutter as Cardigan lowers me and settles me onto a garden bench. 

 
“I was passing by the remote operation room after my theatre shift,” says Ansel patiently. He nods to Cardigan who salutes then trips over the bench. Ansel grabs her by the collar and steadies her.

 
“Thanks Ansel. I was with Ansel -  The kids need me since we’re preparing for the Winter Festival,“ said Cardigan.

 
“I’ll be right back,” says Ansel as he walks off calmly. I feel the warmth of the air conditioning. Cardigan’s tail wraps around my back as she slings her arm around my shoulders. My head nestles into the crook of her shoulder. She’s not as warm as Silverash or as soft as Amiya. A shudder runs through my body at that thought. I look out at the distance.

 
“Hide Phase Completed.” says Ptilopsis as she sits on a bench, her eyes closed. Her eyes flutter open. “Training Exercise – Search Phase to commence.”

 
Executor is standing behind her, his back to her back. He turns around rapidly. “Search begin,” he says. He turns his head back and forth rather mechanically, scanning the horizon. He strides over and pulls out a giggling Suzuran from the hydrangea bushes. He tucks her under his left arm. He takes four long steps to his left, turns precisely and pulls out Vermeil from the rose bushes. She’s covered in scratches but she pouts at having been found. He tucks her underneath his right arm and strolls off with two vulpos under his arm.
 

“Two operators found,” says Executor to Ptilopsis as he sits the vulpos one by one next to Ptilopsis. He strides over to the grape vines. There’s two Shamares – one up the fig tree and one among the grape vines. He pulls Shamare out from the vines. He carries her under his arm. She goes limp as she holds Morti. Morti waves a little arm at me. He drops her at Ptilopsis’s feet.

 
“Three operators retrieved. Operation over. Executor victory..” Says Piltopsis.

 
“That looks fun, wanna join in?” asks Cardigan.

 
I take a deep breath. I need to be responsive and be a proper Doctor of War. 

 
 “I think that’s their search and discover exercises,” I mutter, “If the under eighteen Doc Ops can beat a trapless Executor in one month, I’ve promised to take them all to night time markets together.

Executor’s the hide and seek champ though.”

“Why?” asks Cardigan, “Is it because he’s a robot with heat functions?”

 
“What? Of course not. No, he just has some type of immunity to arts illusions,” I mutter.

 
Ansel bustles over with blankets on one arm, snacks and cans piled up in the crook of his other arm. Cardigan takes the blankets from Ansel and he sits next to me, the two of them working the blankets over the three of us.

 
“I got these from Mousse. They’re not on your name,” says Ansel as he hands over three eclairs. I stare glumly at my éclair and put it down.  Ansel stares at me in concern. I can feel his worry piecing me. “What’s on your mind?” asks Ansel as he tucks a milk tea can next to me.

 
“Nothing much,” I say moodily, “Let’s just watch the kids.”

 
He nods and settles back in. I lean back and the two of them lean on me. They’re warm. Ansel uses a tablet so I know he’s not contacting anyone about me. Cardigan’s too poor for personal devices what with her self inflicted poverty..

 
From the main entrance, Popakar and Ifrit run over to Ptilopsis. “Hey Ptilly has the next round started?” asks Ifrit as she bear hugs the stone faced liberi. Popakar nods shyly to the other girls. Shamare stares at Noctis. Suzuran gives a friendly nod back. Vermeil is there constructing a trap out of rope. She gives Popakar a nod back.

 
“Negative. Would you like to join as player four?” she asks.

 
“Yes!” says Ifrit eagerly.

 
“Registering Player Four. Operator Ifrit.”

 
“Can I join in?” asks Popakar shyly.  Popakar twists her fingers nervously when Ifrit grabs her hand and raises it up.

 
“Confirming request. Would you like to join as player five?”

 
“Yes.”

“Registering Player Five Operator Popakar. Registration will close in thirty seconds. ”

 
The girls giggle and whisper amongst each other. Executor turns around, his back to Ptliosis’s back.

 
“Registration complete. Hide phase has commenced. Hide phase will conclude in three minutes.”

 
We watch them run around searching for hiding positions in the garden. They’re putting their lessons in practice. The way they hide is characteristic of one another. Vermeil quickly climbs the tallest tree and Popukar follows her. They quietly set up net and resin traps. Shamare walks over to me and Morti points to underneath the park bench. We lift up our legs and she crawls underneath.

 
“What’s the prize?” asks Ansel as we watch Ifrit grab onto Silence who just entered the garden. Silence smiles and Ifrit hides in a hollow. Silence sits in front of the hollow. Ifrit starts to let out a big laugh when Silence places a finger on her lips. Ifrit nods.

 
“Hmmm? If they could beat trapless Executor, I would take them all to the Lungmen Markets with Jaye and Hoshiguma,” I said.

 
“That’s going to be hard even with all their lessons,” says Ansel.

 
“Well they wanted something more challenging after beating Ethan. They sought, he hid,” I said absently.

 
“So you went straight to the highest difficulty?” laughs Cardigan.

 
“Well Executor isn’t allowed to use traps. Anyone under 16 can participate with non lethal traps. Ptilopsis is the administrator”

 
“I would like to see Gummy and Absinthe join in but I suppose they think they’re too old for hide and seek,” says Ansel meditatively.

 
“They’ve joined in a few rounds,” I say, “They’re still eligible for the prize since they’re under 16 even if they’re not in education stream.”

 
“I couldn’t do what they do at their age,” says Cardigan, “You’re teaching them well Doctor. Well, you’re teaching all of us well. I used Regeneration and it saved my life.”

 
Ansel nods. “You’ve taught us valuable skills to help us keep others alive”

 
“I’m just working,” I say, “Working.”

 
Ansel puts his hand on my shoulder, “Doctor, you’re working hard. When was the last time you properly rested?” he asks firmly.

 
“I don’t really now… Its not enough, It’s just not enough,” I whisper, “I could be so much better,” I sigh.

 
“Doctor,  did you know our Operator combat fatalities have dramatically dropped? Did you know that Operators skill development has increased? You’ve invested time in getting to know your operators.” Said Ansel thoughtfully.

 
“Isn’t that what a good commander does?” I ask semi ironically.

 
“My old sarge spent more time telling us what not to do,” laughed Cardigan.

 
“A good commander isn’t always a caring one,” said Ansel reflectively, “Not all commanders would take an interest in ensuring our younger operators are educated. Not all commanders would consult with the care teams of our operators. You’re a caring commander.”

 
“Caring doesn’t make me good though,” I say bluntly, “Caring means nothing to Rhodes if I’m not good enough to achieve their aims. I’m trying,” I sob, “I’m trying and I’m trying but I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 
Ansel and Cardigan both hug me as hard as they can. My visor shields my face so they can’t see the extent my tears run down my face. My body is wracked with sobs. They just hug me.

 
“It’ll be ok Doctor,” says Cardigan quietly, “We love you and we’ll protect you even if it’s from yourself.”

 
“It is perfectly normal not to know what we’re doing. But we esteem you Doctor,” says Ansel gravely.

 
“No. They esteem past me,” I say.

 
“What do you mean?” asks Ansel.

 
“The reason why they retrieved me. The reason why I’m hired. Past me. They all talk about past me. Bigger. Better. Faster. Stronger. Monster. But I can’t be like that. But they’re watching to see whether I become that person again.”

 
“Doctor, many of us see you for you,” says Ansel, “The Doctor before us is the only Doctor we know.”

 
“But they want that monster,” I whisper, “They want that monster back...”

 
“I don’t know much about that type of thing. I never met past you. I only know the you, you are now. Will you make different choices? Maybe? I don’t really know,” says Cardigan.

 
I take off my visor. My face is absolutely caked in dried tears and mucus. Cardigan flinches slightly. Ansel pulls out a packet of wet wipes and tissues from his pocket. Cardigan leans over to pull out the wet wipes. She wipes my face thoroughly, cleaning carefully around my eyes. She discards the used wipes into a portable bin held out by Ansel.

 
“Blow,” she instructs me. I smile and blow my nose into the tissue. I keep blowing much to her slight growing horror. Executor looms over us. The three of us freeze suddenly when he leans down, puts his hand through our legs. Our legs automatically lift up.

 
Executor pulls out Shamare who is limp on the ground, her face slightly disgruntled as she hugs Noctis. He picks her up and tucks her underneath his left arm and strides away.

 
The three of us relax and I finish off my nose blow. “Well I do tell you that people have a lot more mucus than expected,” smiles Ansel as he holds out spray on sanitizer. She sticks her tongue out as he sprays her hands.

 
“Hands out,” she tells me. I stick out my hands. Ansel sprays my hands. It burns slightly. “Good Doctor, you can eat your éclair right now,” she says as she and Ansel pack everything back in. 

 
I do feel pretty empty. I pop my éclair out of the packaging and nibble on my éclair. It’s still good. Ansel cracks open the milk tea can for me. I take a sip and the instant warmth floods me.

 
“Thank you,” I whisper.

 
The two of them resume leaning on me. Ansel’s ears flop against me “I’ll be with you Doctor,” says Cardigan, “We all love the Doctor we have now. Just as you trust us, we trust you. We trust you, the only Doctor we have right now.”

 
My eyes grow misty again. “I think the girls are finished,” says Ansel as the younger operators run to me.

 
Ifrit hugs me around the shoulders.  “Doctor!” she cries out, “Did you see me almost beat Executor!”
 

“No you didn’t,” says Shamare quietly, “Executor found you before me.” Morti waves at me to lean down. I lean down.  “Monsters stick together,” whispers Shamare quietly in my ear as she holds out Morti. Morti pats me on the head. I give her a shaky smile. She gives me a small smile back.
 

“Girls!” calls out Suzuran, “Do you want to take a break from Search and Discover? The Doctor can read us a story?”
 

I scratch my ear slightly. “I guess I can,” I say. Executor, Silence and Ptilopsis walk over to us. Silence and Executor look at me keenly - guess they don’t want me telling their wards inappropriate stories. 
 

“Doctor!” calls out Courier.
 

“Yes?” I call back. Courier moves swiftly towards us. 
 

“Package from Karlan Trading,” he says with a salute as he holds out a Rhodes Island pass tap. I tap my palm on it. Courier hands over the package with a sunny smile. 
 

“Open it up!” calls out Ifrit eagerly. Ptilopsis turns to Executor who shakes his head. The package is from Silverash and I cringe slightly. 

 
“Would you like to open it now?” prompts Cardigan.

 
“Guess I should,” I mutter. 

 
 Silverash’s gift is a small pot plant. It’s actually the one I was talking about. 

 
I give a little smile despite myself. 

I have a little hope.

Chapter Text

“Well we can’t force them. We can only leave the option open for them to attend culturally and racially sensitive psychological and psychiatric services,” said Amiya. Her hands slid down the tablets, “Conflict, fighting, humans, it takes its toll on everyone. It is why we have a regular leave program for our employees and we make any reasonable accommodations for operators to feel safe on base. ”

Nearl and Dobermann looked thoughtfully at me. Shining gently soothed the lines on my forehead. I sat with my head on Shining’s lap, my arms wrapped around her knees. Amiya glanced at us, her lips pursed.

“Security Operators can only be detained by the Mental Health Ward if they present an active threat to themselves and others. We cannot force people to engage with treatment,” says Shining gently as she soothes the lines on my forehead.

I lifted up my head and raised my eyebrow at her. She gave me a small smile. “I am very persuasive,” she said sweetly.

“Well, the Doctor has raised a point I fear we have neglected by omission,” said Dobermann thoughtfully, “We forget that for many of our underage security operators, they come to us, still in their formative years, traumatized and prioritizing only their survival. We must approach their training and treatment differently to our other recruits who are seasoned mercenaries. We need to focus on building mental resilience, camaraderie and bonds within and with our operators. We should keep an eye out for mental stress, trauma and vicarious trauma from operations.”

“I can’t be everyone’s mental lynchpin,” I grumbled, “If I go down, a good chunk of your morale is gone. All those contracts that you say are dependent on my relationships? Gone.”

Amiya gently nudges me. I sit upright. They can’t see me through my visor so they can’t see I’m asleep.

We’re in Dr Kal’tsit’s office. The room is set up in a square format. Dobermann and Orchid sit together, recording notes and taking minutes.  Opposite us are Pith, Sharp, Touch, Stormeye and Nearl. 

“We move onto Rosmontis,” says Dr Kal’tsit, “She is currently in the Elite stream as a six star and under the Elite Leadership program. Should she be offered the opportunity to participate as a Doctor’s Squad Operator?”

“No,” says Pith angrily as she grasps onto her casting staff, “Rosmontis under the command of this amnesic arts gremlin?” Sharp and Touch put a warning touch on her shoulders. Amiya starts up angrily. Doctor Kal’tsit looks calmly at Pith as Pith inflates with anger. 

I shook my head at Amiya. “She’s not wrong,” I say mildly, “the Arts Department are still pretty furious that I can’t provide academic explanations as to these telearts. ”

“As an Elite Representative of the Caster Security Operators, I lodge my objection to having Rosamontis act as a Doctor’s Operator,” says Pith crossing her arms. 

“Sharp? Touch? Stormeye?” asks Doctor Kal’Tsit.

“Well, you can always override us Doc,” says Stormeye with a drawl, “But I agree with Pith.”

“Why is that?” asks Doctor Kal’Tsit.

“As Rosmontis’s temporary trainer, she needs some time,” said Stormeye, “The kid’s still having trouble coming to terms with Chernoborg. She’s lost her team, her parental figures, mentors and she’s had to fight in war by herself. She needs some time, she is a kid.”

“We don’t have enough time to be kind,” says Doctor Kal’tsit firmly.

“Yes we do,” I say, “On my end, I’m great, I’ve got plenty of operators. And we’ve talking about this for an hour but have any of us actually asked Rosamontis what she actually wants to do?”

“Rosmontis is an elite. She will have to fight. It’s the best way to nurture her gifts without her having to turn into a weapon,” says Doctor Kal’tsit.

“Does she want to go in pseudo-command again like Amiya? Or does she want to be a solo operator like Blaze? There’s plenty of ways for us to nurture her gifts. I think your elite elite program is bullshit since you’re not asking these kids what they want to do," I say.

“We’re here to guide the children,” says Pith angrily.

“She’s fourteen not four,” I say, “She has probably thought long and hard about what she wants to do.”

Pith glares at me. I flick a “.____.” on my emotivisor. Pith turns to Doctor Kal’tsit who stares deeply at her HR files. 

“Aren’t you raising her to have the skills to make her own decisions? Sure she can’t decide what squad she gets to join but she can at least think about where her talents lie. Maybe she wants to learn how to hit a damn aerial target,” I say to Doctor Kal’tsit. 

Doctor Kal’tsit is clearly in thought. Pith uncrosses her arms and holds onto her casting staff. The others - apart from me - left their weapons at the door. I’ve never teleported Pith, in my memory, but I could probably teleport her out of here. Amiya puts a hand on my arm, as though she’s read my thoughts. I nod at her and lean back.

If I had to be honest though - at the moment I’ve got enough to do without Rosmontis on my plate. I’ve already got so many children operators to babysit, I don’t need any more child soldiers with me. I can barely handle the teenage soldiers with their hormones and their issues and their mental health trauma and their god damn puberty brains when half of my adult operators seem to be suffering from the same. 

For a ship that is literally crawling with at least a ten to one ratio of psychologist to operator, we’re all really bad at actually going to therapy. Everyone needs therapy on this god damn ship! And I’m probably one who needs therapy as well but let's not think about that. 

I sigh and I shrug. The room looks at me.  Oh no. Oh well. 

“Look, Chernobog was hard on all of us, isn’t that why you’ve forced almost all of us into therapy? I’ve already got most of the Kal’tsit kids in my squad anyway - probably because I let them wear what they want in battle,” I say with a laugh, “Look, if anyone wants to sign the teleportation arts exposure clause, let them - I’ll make room for them. Drag me in here after you’ve confirmed that she wants to join my squad and you still don’t want to let her in? Outies y’all.”

Everyone stares at me as I leave my seat and skip merrily towards the door. Just as I approach the door, I turn around and stick my middle finger up at Pith. I skip down the corridor and don’t stop as my drones - left at the door - follow me out.

"That is who you want Rosmantis to learn from?" Pith yells. 

If I can hear her, guess they didn’t put that arts silence barrier up. 

As I skip down the corridor, I open up my messenger browser and delete the fortnightly message from the arts department demanding that I report and record my arts functionality to the Arts Department.  Another week, another week spent frustrating Pith. Good job me. 

I walk into the chapel. No one is around. I hear the soft chanting of Pramanix. I lean over and see that she’s saying prayers for the hospital funeral. I sit in a back pew, lower my head down and open up my browser window.  

I open up Priestess from my visor.  I’ve programmed my operator files to show me their estimated attack, defence, etc state values. Well I didn’t program it but but I suspect the original Doctor didn’t program it either. This program… sometimes I suspect the Priestess program might be some type of AI. It’s too responsive. Too fast. But some things my tiny brain isn’t equipped to deal with. 

I’ve also put a number value on how much they trust me - with their public files. I’ve been trying to worm my way into their good graces enough for them to sign over the disclosure documents with the psychologist and HR. I tried hacking into the HR database but Ptilopsis caught me when I had almost made my way through Ifrit’s files. She corrupted a good chunk of the files and I’m still sorting them out!

Suddenly it’s dark.

I sat in darkness, my left hand turned and turned a handle to power the originium battery generator.

“It’s almost time, are you charged up?” asked a voice in the darkness. I nodded and patted one of my drones. It flew and sat in the loading dock. 

A woman with long brown hair leaned on me. “The sarcophagus… it’s such a risk. I don’t know whether I trust you when you say you know how to use it.” she sighed.

"Well I’ve got my own ideas in mind. Just trust in the light.” 

 “Well we’re out of options, what else can we do?” she said.

“Only from your perspective. I am your god and you are my priestess. I see further than you.”

“You’re almost pitch black crystal. I'm going to crystallize soon. Amiya… knows what we’ve resolved to do.”

"We're out of time," snapped someone in the darkness, “We’ve got to go!”

“Let’s go. We’ll be together even after the end. For the light.”

I blink, the light floods my eyes. I don’t have a visor on me. I try to move my hand but it’s held down. I look to the side, my hands are strapped to the restraints of a hospital operating table.  I struggle for a few moments to try and loosen myself but I can’t.

My head’s loose so I look around. My visor, jacket and drones are in a basket by a table with a large x-ray light box mounted over it. By my side is a table filled with operating implements. The CCTV camera is covered. Whoever did this doesn’t want Control Centre to know what’s happening. They’re also probably one by my operators. There’s a camera drone just hovering about. So they probably still want to record it. The camera drone isn’t facing me so whoever captured me probably doesn’t know I’ve woken up. How long have I been here?

Would anyone here really come to save me?

 Kal’tsit?

Nah.

I lick my dry lips and do a little whistle code. My head is whoozy. My drone flies over to me and I whistle an SOS code to it. Hopefully someone will come to save me. I doubt it.  Does anyone really want to save me?

I'll have to save myself but do I have anywhere to go even if I escape? I have no money, no identity, no skills - I only have what Amiya and Dr Kal'tsit tell me I have.  Even if I left Rhodes Island - what could I do? My head falls down as I stare despondently at the drone. Well, I have to get out of here first. I can have an existential crisis later.  I look upwards. The drone still isn’t focused on me. I whistle to my own drone a little whistle code to bring my jacket to me. The drone hovers unsteadily and clumsily before it drops my jacket on me. 

If I need to, I can teleport the assailant out now. I’m tempted to teleport Blaze or Shining to me but they don’t need to know that. I just have to keep calm. They obviously didn’t intend to kill me. They just wanted to investigate me. They’ve knocked me out but I’m not dead. 

My jacket hums slightly on my chest. I feel the warmth but still myself. I know Shining thinks I shouldn’t wear it but I will. 

Shining looked at me disapprovingly. I twirled around in my long jacket as they shook their heads.

“Doctor, the longer you wear that jacket, the higher your chances of infection," said Shining warningly.

"These records are confidential," said Silence, “It is ultimately your choice whether you wish to keep wearing the jacket. But it comes with a severe likelihood of oripathy infection, especially should that jacket be damaged in any way.”

“So do my arts,” I said, “I’m hurtling downwards to infection every time I cast guys.”

I hear sinister laughing. My head snaps to attention. “Knock knock!” calls out a voice. I turn my head and I see Warfairin come out of her office.

She wrinkles her face. “Oh my, that dose wasn’t enough for you?” she says sadly as she turns to her table, “Well I don’t want you to feel pain so let me just...”

I hear a revving noise. The door smashes open. Warfarin screams. As the dust settles, I see Blaze stands there brandishing her chainsaw. Behind her is Dr Kal’tsit. Projekt Red speeds over to me and cuts my restraints. I sit up and rub the feeling back into my wrist. 

“Warfarin,” says Dr Kal’tsit warningly, “what do you think you're doing?"

“It’s for science,” laughs Warfarin, “There’s a few things I want to figure out and the Doctor’s blood could really help us all. Also they didn’t attend their check up so two birds one stone.”

“Warfarin do you know what you’ve done wrong?” says Dr Kal’tsit with a deadly calm. Warfarin crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side, her face screwed up in confusion. I quickly sling my jacket back and zip it up. I sneak over to the basket to retrieve my face visor. Projekt Red stalks about the office, picking up a few papers, reading a few, keeping some and placing others back.

“One wrong move and that jacket would have killed us all," says Dr Kal’tsit, "it's practically an origiunum reactor. ”

“We were careful,” says Warfarin dismissively, “We could find out so much from the Doctor.”

Blaze scoops me up over her shoulder. “Geeze you keep getting yourself into situations like these,” she says with a laugh. 

"How do we forget?" I ask Blaze suddenly, "it feels like an eternity ago but there’s always light. There will always be light. "

Blaze stares at me startled as Dr Kal'tsit looks interested at me momentarily when she turns around to look disapprovingly at Warfarin. Projekt Red reappears behind Dr Kal’tsit. Dr Kal’tsit stretches out her hand and Projekt Red places papers within it. Dr Kal’tsit speed reads through the papers and she takes a deep breath.

“What… are you planning to do to the Security Operators?” asks Doctor Kal’tsit in a quietly deadly voice, “Doctor. Skadi. Cuora. Deep Colour…. ”

"It's for the sake of research!” protests Warfarin, “I won’t kill them! I’m just doing a close up examination! Their physiology could teach us so much! ”

They start to yell. Blaze nodded at Dr Kal’tsit and walked out of the office. I bounce on her shoulder.  “Where are you taking me?” I ask groggily as I watch the corridors go past.

“Just to Doctor Shining,” she says as she escorts me down the corridor, “Doctor Silence currently isn’t in today. ”

I can see that we’re on the hospitals and medical research level of the base. I start trembling, I was so close to becoming just a cadaver on the slab. 

“Doctor?” says a concerned voice. We turn around to see Shining and Nightingale coming towards us. They’re both dressed in their usual clothes. Nightingale holds onto her staff for support as she walks towards us.

“Oh Shining! The Doctor needs you,” Blaze says in relief. She hefts me off her shoulder and stands me upright. She gives me a little gentle push towards Shining. Shining catches me.

“Oh? What is the matter?” asks Shining as she casts a professional eye over me.

“Warfarin had them,” says Blaze grimly, “I’m going to go back but the Doctor’s had it a bit rough today. Just… let them take it easy ok?” Blaze runs back to Warfarin’s office. We watch her going off like a streak.  Nightingale pats me on the shoulder. 

“We’ll take you into our office and you can tell us what happened,” says Shining. I slowly shake my head when she looks at me in concern. She suddenly hugs me. “Whatever it was, it was scary wasn’t it?” she asks. 

I struggle momentarily and then my limbs turn into jelly, all the adrenaline seeps from my body. It all comes flooding back to me - the fear and the uncertainty. I burst into tears and hug her.  "I thought you were in an operation," I mutter, my arms around her neck. 

"We finished early," she says serenely. I'm not going to question that. I left out a few sniffles and wail. Nightingale rubs my back. “Let’s go inside Doctor, you can tell us everything that happened. We’ll listen to you.” 

Chapter Text

The uncontaminated orislugs are cute.

They pulsate green and slowly wibble about in their tanks. They look nothing like their red and yellow cousins which we slowly slaughter en masse and harvest. You know, if we could eat them, they could make a renewable and sustainable food source. I suppose the public doesn’t really want their food to explode in their gut though. 

I stand up and lean over the tank. It’s an open tank so my gloved finger prods a slug. The slug squeals and curls up into a ball. That… that’s so cute! Perfect pet material! We can market them as Rhodes Island Ori-Slugs! Some of the labs are working on originium extraction from organic matter so if we run out of the original variety, we can grab some of the infected type. Steady supply for a growing market! 

My fortune is made! 

“Doctor! Put down the orislug,“ calls out Franka playfully as she runs towards me. Liskarm walks after her, throwing a shrug.  “Don’t eat Vanilla’s pets,” says Franka in a mock scolding tone.

I shrug and move away from the tank. “You’re such a bad Doctor, eating everything in sight like before,” she says, mock play chopping me in the head. 

Eating everything? Like before?

I mean sometimes I put carbon rods and elite promotion materials in my mouth but I just like how it feels against my teeth and gums. Oh. Oh.

Guess she’s talking about Doctor 000.

“Doctor?” says Franka startled as I wander away. Liskarm shakes her head at Franka. 

I fold my arms and tilt my head to the side as I walk. Where can else can I go tonight for quiet? I don’t feel like running into the Duct Dwellers although since we’ve made sure that Lappland isn’t anywhere near Projekt Red, there haven’t been many thunks in the vents. The west side? Nah, probably everyone is doing a trady shade deal at the moment, under the impression that the CCTV there for 2am is rarely checked. 

Guess my office is the only option. I head towards my office, waving and nodding to Operators who greet me. I don’t remember most of them… are they even my operators?  Better check the files. I walk into my room and sit on my desk.

Silverash comes out of my kitchenette. He holds a mug of coffee and walks straight back in. I pull up my To-Do list. I cringe - gah! I’ve really got to finish up those educational materials. I lean my forehead on the desk and rock my head from side to side. I feel a warm gloved hand on my head. I lean up with a “O^O” flashing from my visor.

Silverash places a mug of coffee before me as he pats my hooded head. “What is currently occupying your thoughts my friend? What are you planning?” he asks.  

“Education and puberty,” I mutter.

“Would you like to elaborate? I may be of assistance to you. There is no one better than myself to solve your problems,” he says.

“How so?” I ask, “Well I’ll tell you anyway. So like a bunch of my operators are under 16 right?”

He nods.

“So they all come from wildly different educational backgrounds so they’re on different playing fields even if they all managed to pass employment tests. And then the healthcare has been on trauma and half of them haven’t actually been educated on puberty. The other half? They got birded.”

“Birded?”

“Kal’tsit’s sex education talks. They’re terrifying. ”

“How so Doctor? Is it simply not physical and health education presented in a much more scientific manner as befitting Rhodes Island?” he asks as his ears move forward in confusion.

“You wanna see some?” I say as I cackle in laughter. 

“Doctor, surely you exaggerate the matter. You may show me some examples,” says Silverash.

I tap my visor to open up the images. I slide my fingers against the visor so the images project onto my big monitor. Silverash doesn’t flinch but I can see his tail stiffen at the images of the repercussions of Oripathy and STDS and originium aggravated STDS. There’s the oozing wounds burning red with crystal. Faintly red glowing pus leaking out of genitals. Black crystal being stuck as urine passes out. Warts coated and rimmed in black crystal. Crystal spiked genitals. 

“Told you,” I say as I take the images off the screen. Silverash’s tail settles. “Too specific, especially when it comes to cross species sexual intercourse. Remember when Blaze ran out of base screaming as she hijacked a motorbike? Like three weeks ago.”

“Are you referring to the occasion when Blaze was found completing a level 7 contingency contract?” he asks. Should have known but I’m not going to ask him how he knew that. It was probably spies, politics or both. I’ll leave that side to Dobermann and Amiya.

“She got birded by Kal’tsit,” I say as I take my visor off my face to rub my temples, “Kal’tsit focuses too much on avoiding everything that could go wrong, making puberty and growing up far too terrifying. You can’t scare kids in order to protect them. ”

Silverash starts typing on my touch monitor. My hood slips off my head as I watch him. Documents appear on the monitor. Silverash stops typing and faces me. “I have compiled materials which I have found useful in my own endeavours to devise an educational curriculum for those aged fifteen and under,” he says, “Some of the documents may be dated but the principles contained within are sound and relevant today. ”

“Huh, this is a big help, thanks Silverash,” I say as I look at the thumbnails, “But how and why would you need to know about this?”

“ It was my responsibility to foster and guide those of my clan. As such I was required to devise suitable curriculums to educate my siblings and wards of the estate,” he says, “Once devised, those curriculums were taught by Matterhorn.”

“Matterhorn?”

“Matterhorn is fully qualified to deliver education up to a secondary school level in at least two jurisdictions,” said Silverash, “In addition, he has accumulated various qualifications in areas such as housekeeping, floristry, caretaking and coaching. I suspect he enjoys collecting accreditations.”

“Thanks Silverash, I’ll go through your materials right now,” I laugh. Silverash gives my head a fond pat before taking a seat at my coffee table, which his laptop is perched on. I raise an eyebrow at him. I bet he’s still thinking about offering Elysium from the Communications team a secondment contract to help install arts resistant wi-fi towers.

I hope he does it after we’ve persuaded Elysium to join my squad though. I really want Elysium on my team. That man can establish battlefield communication infrastructure which are fully resistant to arts interference with nothing more than two pieces of wire and maybe a beer can. 

I shake my head and start to read through the materials given to me. We both type away and work in comfortable silence. I’m typing, just typing away in regards to curriculums, materials and tailored learning plans. The clock ticks. I check the clock. Wow. It’s been two hours and Silverash is still focused. I’m not. I rest my head in my hands. I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit. Gotta prevent eye strain after all.

I blinked, dazed by the sudden plunge into darkness. I started waving frantically. The people in the library stared at me. A silver haired young man pushed me out of the library and back into the bright light.

“So what gives me the pleasure of your company today Little Doctor?” he asked as he pushed me out, “I last heard you were in private practice in Rim Billiton.”

“Still am!” I said, “I’m just here because my supervisor is threatening to withdraw my entry from my masters if I didn’t attend this headhunting meeting. There’s a Doctor Kal’tsit headhunting for this company … Babel?”

“Babel?” he said with a frown as he stopped pushing me, “You should be careful with this opportunity Little Doctor.”

“Well it’s in Kazdel so there’s probably no harm in it. I’ve always wanted to visit it, you know! Come on, let’s get lunch! I wonder if the old food court is still about!” I said as I grabbed his hand.

He sighed as he held my hand. “Well yes the old food court is still around,” he said, “Though I have not visited it since you graduated from your bachelors. I thought you intended to remain in the academic environment however.”

“Nah. It’s a hell hole of backbiting. Adults are so stupid,” I grumbled as I pulled him in the direction of the food court, “Let’s go get a curry, I haven’t had a decent one since I left Victoria.”

“Well you cannot deny that we are both adults,” he said with a small laugh, “Even if you are just nineteen.”

“Hey, don’t cast my old age up to me! Leave this academic hellhole with me! You’re bright enough to have left it long ago. I should know - I don’t associate with stupid people,” I said proudly.

“You are still quite young,” he laughed, “Well there are things more valuable than academics, my time at this institution can provide me. For example, my time here with you is more valuable than my classes.” 

I leant into his body. His tail wrapped around my waist. So warm. I was so warm.

I am so warm. My heart is flooded with love and affection for people of the past. I hope they are nothing but dream people because it scares me to think that they are real and I’ve killed off the love they had, merely by existing.

I shake my head to wake up properly. Ok. I’m awake because Silverash draped his jacket over me at some point. I put my visor back on and pull my hood over my head again. My network map is pretty. I’ve put it on a public mode for 0% trust and any operator can go into my room to view it. 

Private mode especially when the operator really, really trusts me?  I’ve got the Priestess analysis of their hit points, attack power. Files I’ve been extracting from their official HR records. I probably shouldn’t do that but if no one knows, no one finds out. Battle outfits. Priestess sends a message to Operators to wear the costumes I pick. I smile cheekily to myself at the Silverash sitting on my couch, maybe I should get him to wear that pirate costume again.

I rolled around on the training floor laughing. Silverash stood there his tail stiff in annoyance as the other operators in the room tried not to sneak peeks at his chest. 

“Doctor, may I offer the suggestion that this outfit is impractical in battle?” said Silverash. The other operators, in various degrees of fancy dress, nod.

“I concur with Silverash,” said Ch’en, in her qipao, hands on her hips. Hoshiguma shooks her head at her as Swired laughs fabulously into her fan. 

“You can fight in anything in battle, sometimes you don’t get a choice,” I said, “Let’s admire Matterhorn’s abs everyone!”

Everyone turned to face Matterhorn who nodded courteously at all as he adjusted his grip on the surfboard.  “But are these outfits really necessary? ” asked Ansel, in his beachwear complex with esky. Cardigan, in her Winter Festival clothes, linked arms with him with a wide smile on her face. Melantha stood behind her as she tugged on her old school uniform.

“There’s nothing like embarrassment to get one out of their comfort zone, that’s my prescription,” I say, “Also you guys need to get used to the idea that originium arts are an expression of will. It controls physical objects, it is not controlled by physical objects. So we’re going to practice using your skills with whatever you have on hand.”

Istina raised her hand. I nod at her. “Doctor, could you advise how it would apply to me?” she asked rather primly.

“Well in your case, you rely on books,” I said as I twiddled my thumb, “You could just do the same with pancakes. Does that assist?”

Istina nodded her head doubtfully.  “The things we do for you Doctor,” said Silverash dourly

Heh. That was a funny training session.

Well anyone in swimwear was fine fighting in it. I scan through the swim wear catalogue. Skyfire is probably the happiest to fight in her bathing suit but that’s probably because she’s just happy not having clothes that burn off when she accesses her blue flames. It’s gotten to the point where every time she fights in swimwear, she only insists on using burning point flames. She still does the same amount of damage though.

Maybe I should make them fight in swimwear. Hmmm. Who can fight in swimwear? There’s Platinum,Shining, Utage… Shining…I accidentally open up Shining’s file. I might as well read it while I’m at it. 

I read Shining’s file and pale. Amiya….  I take off my visor and bury my face in my hands. I knew it but… I hoped. Why?

My shoulders shake. I know she didn’t mean to and I know she thought it of not much importance but it still hurts. I wish I knew who did things and liked me solely for me. Silverash comes in with a tray of coffee and pastries. He’s another one that doesn’t like me for just me. 

Amiya left the room. The door slid shut. I took off my visor and placed it on the desk. Silverash turned around and paled. He grabbed me by the arms. “Is that you my friend? You haven’t changed,” he whispered.

I stared at him in confusion. 

He continued holding me as he stared at me. His eyes hungrily searched my face. My face is blank. He let go of my arms and gave me a business smile. 

“My apologies for that Doctor. Your resemblance to an old friend is so uncanny, it threw me off guard.”

My breath catches short, I sniff and hiccup as I take off my visor.  “Doctor?” says Silverash, “What is wrong?” 

He places the tray down on the coffee table and rushes over to me. He gently strokes me on the head. I almost sink into the warmth when I draw back. All this, none of it, is meant for me. It was never for me. 

“Silverash?”

“Yes Doctor?”

“Do you… Do you wish I was the Doctor of Kazdel?”

Silverash’s breath catches in his throat. I bury my face into my arms. I knew it. I knew it. Silverash wrenches my arms away from my face and lifts it up. My head moves up but I turn my face away. I’m not going to look.

If I look, he’ll say it.

He’ll say yes. 

“No.”

I look at him. He looks at me in the eyes, his entire body is tense. His pupils are so dilated, they’re blown out. A little part of me can’t help but want to laugh about about how I’ve finally forced him into giving a one word answer.

“No Doctor. You are You are the Doctor of Rhodes Island,” he whispers, “You are not… you are not the Doctor of Kazdel. ”

I nod. He lets go of my arms. I rub my wrists when he walks over and picks me up in a princess carry. I curl up against him, my fists clutching at his jacket front. The material bunches in my fist. He carries me over to the couch and takes a seat, with me sitting on top of his lap. He hugs me and holds me tight. 

Is it fine? Is it fine to accept this warmth? No. This is all a lie but for all that, I settle into the hug. 

“I do miss the Doctor of Kazdel,” he says contemplatively, “But you are not them. They are not you. You are as different as the sun and the moon.”

“Tell me about them,” I mutter. He looks down at me startled.  

“I want to hear it from you.”

“There is not much I could say in any event,” Silverash murmurs, “A daring person who could have dragged me into war. A sworn ally. They were a brilliant mind, lost in battle too young. In any event, the infection may have consumed them just as quickly. Doctor was just a cute nickname for them but they graduated as a Doctor of Neurology, the youngest at Victoria University.”

“Ummm… were you together? ” I ask hesitantly.

“No,” he says as he gently cradles my face with his hands, “Our relationship was one of absolute trust. The Doctor … was too far away. They went out to private practice with a classmate in Rim Billiton when they were headhunted. Then when they were working for Babel, they became infected and it increased rapidly.”

He’s trembling so slightly I can barely tell.  I guess he’s not going to say it. I won’t either. Maybe things could be different. But they’re not. 

“Doctor,” he says. He gives a wry little chuckle and shakes his head.  “It is hard to address you without a name isn’t it? Do you have any other names? You never gave me another name when we were introduced or since.”

“You know I don’t,” I say, “My only name is Doctor. It’s what they told me my name was.”

“It is rather difficult to be without memory is it not?” he says as he places his head on top of mine. I nod and bunch a fist around his jacket.

“We should let you be, to make your own memories,” he says meditatively, “Many have told you what you could be and should be. You are your own person. We should treat you as such. With new experiences and new memories, you will build your sense of strength. And then, you will find a name for yourself, a name we can all call you. ”

“Silverash.”

“Yes Doctor?”

“Will you wait for me? Give me time to find my name.”

“Doctor, I swear to you upon our bond, that should you need it - you will always find a place within the Snow Realm.”

“Promise?”

“My friend, I promise this to you upon my name and my bloodline,” he says as  he holds out his hand. 

“Aren’t we going to fight each other someday? You can’t exactly offer me refuge,” I mutter as I clutch at his hand and hold it to my chest.

“The day will come when we confront each other, that is true. ”

“You seem happy about it.”

“You warrant it. Let us make the best of the time we have now.”

Chapter Text

It's 12am. I'm sitting here on the west side of the base. 

It's officially off limits but it has the best views. It’s off limits for a good reason though. There’s technically nothing there but a thin ledge railing of about one metre. If you’re not careful, and people have, you can fall off and no one will know that you’re gone because you’ve just fallen about 20 metres off base. 

But there’s only a few CCTV cameras pointed around here. I’m sitting in the blind spot. I found it out after days and days of having to watch the footage. My legs dangle precariously as I swing them. My emotivisor is stuffed in my pockets. The cold wind whips around my cheeks. I look up at the starry sky - no matter where there is, there are always the stars. My chest feels empty and cold however. My hands shake but I hold them tight. 

There will always be a part of me that is missing. I miss the woman with the long brown hair. She lied when she promised we would always be together. 

"Doctor! Turn off your emotivisor!" said a cactus child impatiently. She put her hands on her as her brown ears twitched.  I ran ahead of the child and dove onto the patch of grass. The child sighed then ran after me.  A brown haired woman followed us. She stared at the grass as though she could never see enough of it. 

I laughed and laughed on the grass. The brown hair child hesitated and then dove onto the grass with me. I caught the child as she laughed. A white feline woman and a white haired sarkaz woman approached us. 

"Welcome to Kaldez," says the sarkaz woman. She held out her arms for a hug.  The cauctus child hesitated and looked at me. 

“It’s up to you. You don’t have to touch her if you don’t want to,” I said. The child suddenly sprang up and gave the sarkaz woman a hug.

The sarkaz woman holds her tight.  "I see we are going to be friends," says the Sarkaz woman. The cauctus child nodded. 

“Huh, she’s usually pretty reserved around strangers,” I said to the feline woman.

The feline woman shrugged. “Theresa’s got a knack for it,” she said dismissively. The two of them walked off so the feline woman followed Theresa and the child off the runway. 

The brown haired woman clutched at my hand. "A new start," she whispered, “thank you Doctor. Let’s catch up to them."

I don’t know what happened to that woman. I’ve been seeing more of her since Chernoborg. When I see her in my dreams, I feel lonely. All the things she says, all the love and affection she cherishes… they aren’t for me. They’re for the mind I should have had but don’t. 

Today was not a good day. I’ve been at Rhodes for a while now but I am so lonely. I may have two hundred percent trust with some of the operators but it means nothing. It just means I persuaded or hacked into HR’s files to find out more about them. I have to hack. 

"Your title of Doctor is purely honorary," said Doctor Kal'tsit, "I ask that you stick to your position description.”

I looked at her and nodded. I shrugged and stared at my gloved hands.

I stare at my hands. Well, at least I’m getting somewhere with my skills and arts research. You don’t need accreditations to research luckily, provided you get results. I have a feeling that my ability to assist people in developing their personal oripathy arts is more the fact that I’m the only one stupid enough to give perfectly healthy people, rocks that could kill them. 

There are good days and bad days but there is nothing else but days at Rhodes Island. I’m lonely. So lonely. 

A message pops up on my visor.

“Silverash - My apologies Doctor but I am occupied at present. I will see you before I depart. ”

Hah! He says occupied but I know he’s probably with Myrrh and Perfumer. I’ve seen them all together on the CCTV.  Under Perfumer’s influence, Myrrh has been working on some alternate medications. 

I suppose he’s got a lot to talk to Myrrh about. They’re both from remote and secret regions of Terra. There’s not much I can talk to my Operators about sometimes. It’s lonely and it eats away at me. Maybe if I was a different type of operator, I would be running off to the Greenhouses to get my recreational drug fix. Or to the bar for my alcohol fix. I sigh. I’m their prize arts weapon. Since Chernobog, Shining’s put me on a three week recreational and alcohol ban and everyone’s taking it seriously. 

“You change the flow of battle Doctor,” says Dobermann frustrated. “You can teleport operators before they receive severe injuries, you can teleport operators right on top of the enemy, you can retrieve and teleport operators to achieve unheard of tactics,” she snaps, “This is why you need to master your arts! So we know just how we can use your power!”

“If I knew how to do it, I would have!” I screamed, "I'm thinking as hard as I can!"

The days are longer and longer because I can’t help but think. If I slip and fall then all of these days will stop. And that is a tempting prospect. All I have to do is slip down and fall and let my head crack open. Smack bamn with no one noticing your corpse because the treads probably pulsed you, the you that was, into a thin paste. 

It's tempting though. 

In the distance I watch the forests frees, slowly reaching up to the sky. Will it reclaim Chernobog? I think so. The trees pass by us as we crawl out of the Chernobog, trying not to hear that song. 

The song… the song that Mephisto sang. It echoes in my ears. Sometimes when I think all is quiet, I hear it in the corner of my ear. I’ve been hearing it since we’ve returned to base, trying to get back into the rhythm of the everyday. For all of Dobermann’s insistence that we’re not military, the military routine she’s settled on all of us has helped the majority of the base.

Refugees milled uncertainly outside the base as the Justice department was catalogued and escorted prisoners of war. Not too far away, Warfarin and Aak were moving quickly and fast ensuring that their set up was still functioning. Closure ran, maintenance robots at her heels, as she nibbled on her fingernail to ensure the external systems kept up to the demand. 

In the mass and chaos, the junior doctors and nurses triaged everyone who came into the outside camp. Silence ran into Emergency Surgery tent with her drone following her. I milled about the south entrance. Doctor Kal'tsit pushed me out of the way and ran into the base. 

Bagpipe put a hand on my shoulder. "All right let our leaders and Chenchen through!" she roared. Amiya and Ch'en walked through, bedraggled, covered in soot and with grim satisfaction on their faces. Tallulah was cuffed and led on a string. Her face was blank. Nearl and Shining ran to the two. Amiya shook her head and asked quiet questions.  I gave her a sanity potion. She drank it. 

 “Under what jurisdiction are we taking her in?” asked Exusiai as she tucked a red lock under her ear, her eyes sharp. 

"Terra jurisdiction," saids Amiya quietly as Hoshiguma and Swire lead Tallulah away to the underbase, “But if that is unacceptable, caretaker jurisdiction on behalf of Chernobog in the absence of and until contact is made by the Ursus Empire.”

“That works for me,” said Exusiai, "Hey Vanilla, can you get Liszkarm here?”

This is the world I've woken up in I guess. It’s too hard to continue to be in. My dreams lately have just been screams. Screams and screams for all the deaths I'm responsible for.  There’s really no one I can talk to. If they could, they would spit at me. 

"We risked Ace for you," said Pith, her eyes red with weeping yet seeped in hatred, "And what do we get in return?". Touch shook her head and led her away. I stood there until Amiya took my hand. 

" Doctor, time for your next check up," she said quietly, “Let’s head to the chapel.”

 I can't go back into the chapel at normal hours right now. We've got Pramanix, Shining, Spectre and Executor doing a round the clock, multi faith funeral at the moment. It would be so easy.

"Oh you're here Doctor," says a voice up above. I hear a thud and footsteps approach me. A mass of red drops down. Ah, it's Zima. She stands there, strong and tall. You wouldn’t think but to look at her but she's just a scared kid. So am I. 

The only adult I know in this joint is probably Shining.

"Hey Zima," I say. She nods at me. I pat the space next to me whereupon she takes a seat. We sit there in silence watching the trees go past.

“Hey Doctor?”

“Yeah Zima?”

“Wanna listen to some music?” she asks as she pops out an earbud. I nod and take the earbud, placing it to the side of my visor. It connects to the side of my visor and I hear heavy dubstep music. It’s doofy.

“Weren’t you just at the memorials? You were listening to this during them?” I ask.

“Nah, I kept these in my pouch,” says Zima, “I went there for An-Istina. Didn’t you go?”

“I made a quick appearance there,” I say softly. She tilts her head, staring at me penetratingly. I ignore her stare and focus on her beats. Sometimes… I wish I had a home. 

"Do you ever want to go back? To what your home used to be?" I ask.

"Even if it wasn't ash and rubble?" 

“Yeah.”

“Nah there’s nothing left back there for me,” she says rubbing her wrists, “Plus it was a boring and stuffy place. There’s things for me to do here.”

“True enough. Oh yeah, I got in that book you wanted by the way.”

“Which one?”

“‘What to Do’. I personally think it’s all intellectual superiority crap though,” I say absently.

“But you’re still going to let me read it right?”

“Of course. You need to form your own opinions on these things. You may not be in education stream but I’m still going to educate you as hard as I can,” I laugh.

“Thanks Doctor. I’m going to head back to Gummy and Istina now,” says Zima as she gives me a quick smile, ruffling the top of my head. I pop her earbud back to her. I flap my hand at her upon which she scoffs. She waves her hand at me as I chuckle. I hear the thud of her climbing back into the vent. 

I look down and there was a piece of paper that fell out of Zima’s pocket. I pick it up, I’ll give it to her tomorrow. 

“ Hoc est verum et nihili nisi verum ”

I bite my lip. That was what someone vandalized on The Doctor of Kadlez’s memorial.

Two weeks ago it was “ ex falsis, ut ab ipsis didicimus, verum effici non potest ”.

It was probably a Kal’tsit kid or Kal’tsit herself. Or Shining. Very few would know the ancient Sarkaz language.  I feel bad for Kal'tsit. She hates my guts but she'll treat me as kindly as she can for all that. Just for the sake of Theresa. Theresa who I can't even remember. Theresa who I killed. Theresa whose memorial monument is perpetually lit up as mine lies in darkness, vandalism and maybe a cigarette or two from those who loved The Doctor.

"You're here Doctor," says Amiya.

Amiya always catches me. I’m tempted to think she’s put a tracking device on me but it’s probably just her powers. 

"Come here Amiya," I say. Amiya walks towards me and takes a seat next to me. She holds onto my hand tightly. We hold hands, watching the stars slowly blaze forth as the lights die. 

“I though Silverash would be with you?” she says slightly jealously.

“Enciodas? Nah,” I say. I fold my hands together. I bite my lips together. “He’s started talking to others in Rhodes Island. He sees business opportunities everywhere. Though you should start getting worried - he knows how unequal the contract is.” I say lightheartedly. 

She squeezes my hand. I squeeze it back and look at her. For all that we joke about how she’s a mascot bunny - she’s the core of Rhodes Island. Why is she running this joint? What can I do for her? Does she actually trust me?

Does anyone here trust me? I may have 200% trust with my operators but do I trust any of them? No. Not at all. They all want something from me and I can’t give it to them. I can’t give anything to them.

Amiya flinches. I guess it’s cold. 

"I'm sorry," I tell her, "I'm sorry I couldn't be the Doctor you were expecting.”

"All that matters is that you're alive," she says as she turns her face around.  “Doctor, you were a surprise but…,” she says quietly, “You are here now and you will help me achieve my dreams.”

“And what will those be?” I ask.

“Doctor! I’ve told you about them before!” she says in mock offence.

“I like hearing you speak about them,” I say softly.

“Oh.”

We watch the moon slowly slip past before she says her usual well chosen words. They lull me to peace like a lullaby. 

“We fight but we differ from the military in that we give our Security Operators choices and freedom in routines,” said Dobermann. I tilted my head to the side.

“A lot of fighting and war is just boredom,” said Amiya, “I want them to realize there is more to life.”

“How did you come up with this at eighteen?” I asked. 

“Trauma,” said Folinic bluntly.

“Making this base a home for those on board,” she says quietly and deeply, “Giving those who I can protect a home. Developing treatments to give the Infected dignity, capacity and quality of life. Empowering the infected to live. Rhodes Island stands for life. Doing my part to make a future for the infected to live.”

“Did you think there would be so much killing and death for your dreams?” I blurt out. She looks at me.

“I’m not sure I can handle all the killing. It’s funny for me to say so since I’m probably responsible for so many deaths through my command but… I don’t think I can handle another Pith.”

“To live is to die,” says Amiya, “Every day people die - for good reasons, for silly reasons, for no reason at all. At least... here... we,”

“Kill hundreds and hundreds of people,” I add bluntly, "What happens if I start liking it?"

“You don’t have to like it. In fact you shouldn’t like it,” says Amiya whimsically, “Look at Lappland - she enjoys the fighting but the killing is a side effect of fighting. Otherwise she would have failed the psychological evaluation. ”

“I’m not sure if I can do this.”

"Neither am I. Even I have my doubts as to my fitness. I can only try my best Doctor," she says simply, "I have been lucky and protected. Even I am not naive enough to think I can change Terra itself. But I can do my best to protect what I love. As do you, Doctor.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

"You're helping Rhodes Island become a second home," she says, “Dobermann is hard on you sometimes but… I see what you’re doing and you’re my Doctor. I’ll protect you Doctor.”

She won’t but it’s nice to hear those words.

"I’ll protect you too,” I say as I squeeze her hand, “I'll walk with you Amiya. I want to make the world you see come true. I'll be with you on your journey."

Chapter Text

A grey haired lupo child, dressed in a red windbreaker, sniffed at the brown haired cauctus child. The cauctus child glared at her. The lupo child sat on her haunches and howled. 

“If that’s an example of your education, I don’t think it is suitable for Amiya,” said the brown haired woman diplomatically. I snickered and turned away from the window to face the white haired feline. 

“Aren’t you interested in expanding your boundaries? You’re wasting your gifts here in Rim Billiton,” said the white feline, “At Babel, there will be many opportunities for you to research your two specialities - arts and neurology amongst a cohort of the best and the most talented on Terra. You would be able to touch the sky.”  

If I spread my fingers out further, I can pretend I’m touching the sky. 

The wind rushes past me and howls in my ears. My body plummets downwards, speeding.  The sky is streaked with maroon clouds, racing across the horizon. I know that if I look a bit further out, there are no stars, only the lights of the city. 

It’s beautiful.  It’s real.  I reach my hand out to touch the sky and my body shimmers in blue. 

I land on my bed. 

I did it. I really did it. My body tingles with electricity. I hug myself and let loose a little giggle. The giggle expands into laughter - pure, gleeful laughter. 

I want to teleport around and around and around! I stumble over to my desk monitor and quickly reprogram the cctv footage.  Did people see me? Probably? But let them think it was just another Doctor Gremlin style hallucination.

I can go anywhere I want! But for now I’ll stay here. But it’s freeing to know that I could teleport my way out. My stomach rumbles and I laugh. I finish replacing the footage and I run straight to the cafeteria. 

It’s early in the morning as I run. Only a few operators move about base - the cleaners, the couriers, the late night shifters, the medicos. In the Doctor’s Cafeteria, the only one present right now is Fang. She diligently preps the vegetables for breakfast, chopping and peeling quickly into large vegetable bins. I wave at her. She nod at me to tap my pass to the holder. I tap it and she leaves off chopping, sanitize her hands then hands me a sandwich and a mandarin.

I pout at her. Fang shakes her head with a laugh. 

Oh well. I’ll just beg Ansel for some pastries later.  Teleporting is hungry work. I head to an elevator and head to the roof of the base. The helipad is in use. Surtr is sitting on one of the lobby benches, licking her ice cream. I nod to her. She nods very slightly back at me. I take a seat at her and devour my sandwich. Crumbs fly from my face.

I like sitting next to Surtr - she doesn’t comment on my drifting in and out of memories. She pats the side of her mouth. Oh right. I wipe at the side of my mouth with my hand. As I wipe, I squint at the blue sky. It’s rather early for anyone to teleport.  If I squint and enhance the image, I might be able to make out Silverash’s helicopter. I peel the mandarin.  

I leaned on the kotatsu table and took one of the mandarins sitting on the fruit bowl. I rolled it around and around on the table. Silverash rubbed his forehead with his palm then continued typing on his laptop.

“You can nap,” I said as I rolled my mandarin. He shook his head. 

“Madam Hoshiguma has advised me that it is traditional to eat those as you sit at this table,” he said, “Young Lady Suzuran concurs with her.”  I sat straight and slowly peeled the mandarin. Silverash clucked at me and took it from my hands, peeling it quickly. “Pith or no pith?” he asked.

“None,” I said with my gloved hands outstretched. Silverash placed the peeled mandarin in my hands. I examined it, it is pithless. I split the mandarin in the segments and looked up. Silverash stared politely at me.

“Hmmmm?” I said before I popped a mandarin segment in my mouth.

“It is nothing, my friend.” 

“Spit it out, Silverash.”

“Just how do you eat and drink with that visor on?” he asked in slight bemusement, “As closely as I have watched over you, I have never settled it to my own satisfaction”

“Do I trust you?” I said lightly.

“You do,” he said solemnly.

I picked up a mandarin segment and held it where my visor is. The light diverted around my visor. “Partial light screen,” I said, “ Top half is glass see through monitor. Bottom half is light screen.”

Silverash tilted my face towards him.  “It is only at Rhodes Island, I have been exposed to such new and marvellous technology. It is due to this, I have entrusted my younger sister to you. Truly such new and wonderful technology, how exactly would it change all of our lives?” he mused.

“Well you’re part of that rapid changing,” I commented, “That watch on Courier’s wrist  - Higashi . Matterhorn’s phone is Rhine Labs, you yourself use a Rhine Lab portable tablet when you’re not using your lapotop but it’s been modified by… Magnellan I would guess. Not Mayer because it doesn’t go ‘Meeeee’.”

“Well just as Rhodes Island is a medical innovator, Rhine Lab is a technological innovator. The battery life and processing speed is unparalleled.” said Silverash.

“We do our best at Rhodes. We’re not the leader in anything, not even in oripathy treatment,” I said, “but we’re getting there.”

He held out a mandarin segment near my visor. I leaned forward and chomped at it. He chuckled lightly. 

A watch beeps.  “My apologies, I must leave to make my flight back,” said Silverash, “You can call on me anytime my friend.”

“I’ll just teleport you out,” I said with a yawn.

“I prefer that you not do that. I must go through the proper departure procedures, like any other operator,” he said as he stood up. He strode over to the chair and pulled his coat back on as I packed his laptop into his briefcase. His falcon flew onto his shoulder as I handed him his briefcase. He patted me lightly on the head and strode off.

I sat there and finished off the mandarin.

I swallowed my mandarin segment after chewing. I sigh and stretch. Surtr’s still eating an ice cream.  “Enjoying that?” I ask. She nods. She’s lucky – she’s got a Dobermann exception for her ice cream. Shining and Silence won’t give me a complete Dobermann exception for my snacks. Right now I’m officially limited to one snack a day. Heh. 

“She’s jumping again!” screams some of the flight staff. The helipad staff run about madly as some of them scream. The rest clear the area and they look anxiously towards the skies. I look with my visor and see a small speck in the sky. The speck contains a parachute. 

“I guess Blaze is back,” I murmur. Surtr scoffs and keeps licking her ice cream. “Hey Surtr,” I ask quietly.

“Yes Doctor?”

“Do you ever wonder how it is that you know how to speak different languages?” I ask hesitantly.

She ponders my question and shakes her head.  “Uncertainty hurts us Doctor,” she says dismissively.

“Well you should know your birth languages,” I said to a young cauctus girl who looked disinterested. “Your mum taught you quite a bit of Higashi so your foundation there is strong. But you should probably know your dad’s language too.” 

"But I already know the Kazdel language!" she protested, ""And no one speaks the formal language anymore!

"All you know how to say is '' need to pee' and ''I'm hungry!"' I laugh, "Look, you've got a knack for languages and understanding as an empath. Learning languages will only help you develop your gifts."

“Isn’t there a chip that could automatically translate everything for me?” she groaned.

“Hey! Only I get that chip!”

“I guess you could call it Babel Brain,” said Silence hesitantly as she peered closely at my scans. SIlence clucked her tongue at the scans as Silence held my hand. 

“Babel?” Shining and I chorused.

“That Laterano story. Once upon a time in Terra, all the people in the world spoke one language?” asked Silence.

We both nod.

“I had Ptilopsis confirm it. There’s a chip embedded in your brain, Doctor. This procedure must have been performed prior and voluntarily to your entry in the sarcophagus.”

“What exactly does this Babel chip do?” asked Shining with a frown.

“It appears to automatically translate and make neuron connections when it comes to languages,” said Silence marvelling, “It’s amazing work, it enhances neuron connections. This partially explains your languages abilities, Doctor. In layman’s terms - it’s an automatic translator.”

“Oh,” I say in a deflated voice.

“Don’t worry Doctor,” said Silence as she gently rapped on my skull, “We’ll find out what’s happening.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said morosely.

“What are you really afraid of?” asks Surtr bluntly. I stared morosely at the Operators Wills Pack on our laps. She looks at her own pack. “Oh. Those,” she says. 

Ptilopsis sat at a corner of the desk and typed away on a set of six monitors. Executor had an open file in front of me and looked me in the eyes.    “Should this not be completed” said Executor precisely, “The estate reverts to Rhodes Island. All debts will be assumed by the next of kin. Should there be no next of kin nominated any debts will be paid out of the estate with the remainder of the estate reverting to Rhodes Island.  Please consult the fee schedule for extra services available.”

“An electronic pack has been forwarded to your inbox,” said Ptilopsis, “Please file your Operator Will Pack in 10 business days. ”

“Well, it doesn’t matter to me,” says Surtr, “Rhodes can deal with me however they like. I won’t be around to care.”

“You know Warfarin will probably call dibs on your body right? I know she’s planning to do the same with Skadi’s,” I say. 

“If it’s not her, it’s going to be Aak,” she says dismissively with a shrug, “He’s told me in extensive detail the research he plans to do with my corpse.”

“Huh, you’re pretty cool you know that?” I say looking at her with a “(*O*)” on my visor.

“No I’m burning hot,” she says with a deadpan face. I chuckle lightly when a noise attracts my attention. There’s the sound of swearing. 

I love that sound but I stand up and walk over to the helipad entrance. I peer. Huh. It’s Chiave again.  “You wanna go at it!” yells Chiave as he cracks his knuckles.  Ayerscarpe gives him a lopsided grin. Broca stands protectively in front of a quivering Greyy.

 Aosta sighs and takes out his phone. “Ok, when do you want to take us on?” says Aosta as Leonhardt runs up and smacks Ayerscarpe on the head. Ayerscarpe looks around as he falls to the ground. 

Leonhardt drags him by the collar towards the exit. “Provence!” Leonhardt calls out, “Found him!”

“What’s this all about?” I ask, approaching Aosta. 

“Ayerscarpe’s trying to find a fight club team,” says Aosta dryly as we watch Leonhardt drag Ayerscarpe off to Provence, who stands at the exit with her hands on her hips, her fluffy tail waving impatiently.

Broca pats Greyy on the head lightly as Chiave shrugs and puts his  hands behind his head. “You ok little fellow?” asks Chiave. Greyy nods as he grasps his casting rod.

“Is Ayerscarpe bothering you?” I ask.

“Not really,” says Greyy, “He just gets a bit funny whenever he comes out of observation. He does the same to Glaucous.”

“Funny?”

“He asks for sparking him,” says Greyy.  I tilt my head – I better ask Provence about that. HR issue if any. 

I feel something gently push me out of the way. It’s Ifrit. She runs up to Chiave, meeboos at her heels. He leans down and he picks her up, piggyback style. He spins and she squeals in laughter, her coat and weapon flailing around as he spins. I’m just thankful that flame wand has been modified so it’s a lot more stable as she is flung around and around. The meebos gambol around Chiave’s heels with a hum of “Meeeees”

 Mayer comes running up, the arms on her exoskeleton frame waving. “Hiya boys, down meeboos” she says cheerfully, “Morning boss!”

Chiave spins slowly to a stop. Guess it was too much even for him. Ifrit leans on his head and pokes Broca. Broca lifts his head and nods at her.  “Did I miss out on Ayerscarpe?” asked Ifrit. Broca nods. “Oh. I wanted to electrocute him,” said Ifrit with a pout.

“What?” says Chiave with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s really dangerous,” protests Greyy.

Ifrit gives a shrug and almost falls off. Chiave grabs at her legs, keeping her stable. She’s hanging upside down and laughing.  Broca pushes her up and she grabs onto Chiave’s shoulders. She leans her head between Chiave’s ears. His ears twitch. “He gives off a funny noise when you shock him,” says Ifrit. Chiave and Mayer look at each other in concern. They nod at each other. Ifrit taps Chiave’s shoulder impatiently and he gently spins around.

“And when did you shock him?” asks Mayer.

“Oh like I was in the powerplant and he wanted to see how many volts we could pump through his body,” says Ifrit carelessly as she holds onto Chiave’s shoulders, “Like the boss wasn’t there for me to ask so I just did it.”

Mayer shoots a look of concern at me. I nod at her and place a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll investigate it,” I whisper to her. She nods and smiles at me. 

“Ifrit, Greyy, you can tell me anytime if any operator is bothering you,” I say seriously, “Even if they’re one of my operators. You guys are also my operators. ” Ifrit mocks salutes me. Greyy nods hesitantly and stands next to me.  My head twitches. 

“All this for nought. You’re better off dying a legend.”

“I will do what I must.”

I glance sideways at Greyy, not that he can see it. I don’t know what it is about Greyy but standing near that kid makes my head hurt and I remember things. It’s not his fault though. I suspect it’s because he’s seeped in electricity and originium.  

“You’ve been working hard,” I say to Greyy, “You should be able to take your breaks peacefully.” He smiles at me.  “So what’s on the agenda today?” I ask.

“We’re going to do combat robot testing and maintenance. We’ve got to make sure the bots are good for Chiave. I may have given Thermy ideas. Maggy and Euce are meeting us there,” smiles Mayer, “Greyy, Doctor, want to come along?”

Greyy gives a hesitant nod. Chiave and Ifrit run off to the escalators. Aosta and Broca shrug and follow their boss. Greyy runs after Broca who slows down and waits for him to catch up. When he catches up, Broca gives the younger perro a quick pat on the head.

“Are you coming Doctor?” call out Chiave and Ifrit as they spin and wave at me. Mayer pushes my back in a friendly way. A meebo at my heels “meeees” at me.

“You sure?” I ask. Mayer nods and pushes me forward. 

I nod and run after them. 

The visor can’t hide the giant smile on my face.

Chapter Text

Why are six stars so expensive to promote? 

I am so tired. I don't know how many sanity potions I've consumed but I'm down to 2 sanity.  So tired. So tired. I slump in my remote operations chair. 

Do I have enough to promote? 

I could just check my operators management panel or my inventory. Nah, I’ll risk it. I’m confident I have enough. I throw my weary body out of the chair and roll towards the door. I stand up and start walking over to Vulcan’s forge.

The corridors are moderately crowded for this time of day. Operators walk in and out of the Weapons Maintenance corridor to make sure they’re set for the next operation. After all, preparations could be the difference between being found barely alive and dying. 

There’s a line outside of the Snipers Maintenance workshop where Adnachinel works. For a crossbow user, he’s really meticulous when it comes to guns so he comes recommended by the gun users usually. “I heard Executor entrusted his secondary guns to this workshop,” whispers a non-doc in Rhode Island combat fatigues to May. 

Vulcan’s forge is the furthest down the corridor and the largest. To the side of it is her sleeping quarters and a kitchenette. Vulcan works on the repairs and creation of our more innovative melee weapons and shields. Ah, she’s there sitting at her reception desk, looking through schematics and plans. As I approach, she raises an eyebrow at me. 

I pull up my projector mode and project Silverash’s elite two requirements. Damn it! "You are almost there Doctor," says Vulcan as she bites her lip, staring at her plans, "You’re still short twenty thousand LMD."

I groan and drop to my knees. Vulcan ignores me as I scoot around on her floor. “Why is it so expensive?” I complain. 

“The materials, the energy costs, maintenance, the insurance costs, the promotional scheme costs and the fact that we’re making ground breaking revolutionary technology?” says Vulcan rolling her eyes.  I sit up and stick my tongue out at her. 

She shakes her head. “Well, I’ve done some tests so I’m confident that a coating of manganese bathed in origninium will do the trick. With some Lappland power for the hammering,” she muses.

Lappland spreads two victory signs at me as she sits at the bottom of a human sized hamster wheel. The hamster wheel is attached by a series of pulleys and wheels to a massive hammering contraption.  There’s a picture of Texas affixed to the wall.  "Lappland power is slow but the irregular rhythm works best for manganese," says Vulcan absently, “Makes it much more stable.”

"But it's almost done right?" I say impatiently. 

“We can create the Manganese Orinium coating as Silverash undertakes the promotion examinations,” says Vulcan absently.

Ok. I just need twenty thousand LMD right? I check my sanity. Damn, I only have five sanity left. I sprint down the corridor of the Weapons corridor, dodging anyone in my way. As I run, I switch on my base control panel. Maybe if I use drones to speed up the delivery process and crash the stock market I’ll have my LMD. 

Why is my base so far away from the main facilities? I have no idea. I skid down an elevator and  hop out. Goody, ventway. I pull myself up and climb through the vent while keep and eye on my panel. I send the drones over to speed up the trade process. I see Courier looking in surprise at the tablet as he sees a fluctuation in stock market processing speed. He notifies Silverash who takes a deep breath then pulls up the different Terran market charts up onto the monitors. 

Sorry Silverash but I need to work the gold market.  The secret to my LMD is gold. My factories refine gold bars. My trading post sells it around the world on the gold markets and exchanges.  We also do the origiunum market but that's riskier for everyone involved. 

I trust tap his Courier’s image. I can see Courier flinching in surprise as my drone dive bombs him. I scroll to the workshop over and I click on Vanilla’s image. Vanilla smiles and giggles at the drone.  Ok. Should be here. I close my base panel map and look for a duct exit to pop out of. 

 "Ahhh Doctor," says Courier cheerfully at the vent where I am, "The gold market in Leithania has been quite good lately."

How did he know? Who cares? I explode out of the vent. Courier catches me, smiling his usual sunny smile. "What type of mischief are you up to today?" he asks as he carries me to the board table where the other two are sitting. Silverash is calmly sipping tea as Matterhorn types away. Guess he managed my markets despite the sudden fluctuations. The printer is whirring as labels print out. I look upwards at my base control panel and see the money for order after order deposited into my account.  

Yes! I have enough.

 I jump up at Silverash and wrap my arms around his neck. "HEY HEY SILVERDADDY, WE'RE GONNA GET YOU TO SCHWING SCHWING!" I shout. 

Silverash’s ears flicker slightly in confusion. My eyes are heavy and I close them momentarily. "Schwing schwing," I mutter.

"Schwing schwing!"

"Pardon?" asked the silver haired feline. He nonchalantly punched away  a feline dressed entirely in black.

"If you were fighting properly with that sword, that's the sound you should make," I said absently as I fiddled with my wand, "I’m thinking wide stances to give yourself the advantage. That’s the problem with you nobles - you don’t fight dirty and so you die."

“For all their virtues, the nobility is not known for honourable fighting,” commented the feline wryly. I slid in front of him and jabbed a perro running at him with my wand. The perro is enveloped in blue and disappears in front of us.

“Happy birthday by the way,” I said. He laughed sardonically and cracked his gloved knuckles. I stood upright and my foot crunched on top of a cctv camera. Blue and red lights flashed closer towards us. The sirens blasted in my ear.

 I hurriedly twisted the wand faster and faster. “Charged!” I yelled as I waved the wand with my left hand, grabbing onto the feline with my right. 

We appeared in a bright white apartment. He staggered onto the couch and leaned with his head back. I sat next to the feline. A forte came out of the kitchen and rushed over to the feline. “It’s fine,” I said as I handed a potion over to the feline, “I’ve got a speed heal substitute. It’s from the Colombian genius Silence.”

The feline grimaced and drank the potion. “No matter how much technology advances, the medicine we drink will always be bitter,” muttered the feline. 

“No long talking, you’re winded,” I said, “No long speeches for two days give or take. Could you get some sports drinks for Enciodas? He needs electrolytes at the moment. Then water will do. Oh and can I get a plate of sandwiches?”

The feline nodded at the forte. The forte bowed to me and walked to the kitchen. “You’re too tall,” I muttered, “Happy birthday, sorry about the whole almost getting you assasinated thing.”

“The assassins were just the usual birthday gift,” he said dismissively as he leant an arm over his eyes. I took out a box and opened it. I placed it on his lap. He put his arm down to see six beautiful originium ice crystals sitting in their box.

“I’ve eliminated their ability to cause contamination. Happy birthday Enciodas,” I said.

“Thank you my dear friend. I will treasure your gift and the sincerity in which you gave it to me,” he said seriously. I leaned over on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. 

A silver haired sarkaz lady coughed. “Can I see your face? For the last time?” she asked in between shaky coughs, her arms and fingers outstretched to the visor on my face. There is a sword embedded in her chest and the red slowly blossomed from the sword.

Red petals dripped from the sword. Petal after petal fell until all was red. 

Except for my hands which shimmered in blue.

"Doctor? Doctor!"

" Doctor?"

I sit upright. Silverash is bent down on one knee to examine me. I’m on a couch on the trading post.  “Silverash! Silverash!” I cry out!

“Yes my friend?” he asks in his unflappable calm. 

“I’m promoting you to Elite Two. You’re strong enough, we’ve compiled all the required programs, there’s enough money to pay into the fund and I’ve got all your materials for your final skill! Let’s head over to Vulcan’s now!” I ramble as I slide my fingers across my visor. I pull up the base view for the trading room and popped in replacement icons - Jaye, Bibibeak and Croissant were available to do a quick relief shift so I popped them in.

“Come on, the three of you!” I laugh, “I’ve got replacement people, let’s get Silverash here promoted!”

Silverash nods at Courier and Matterhorn who quickly pack up. We stride out. “Well, I suppose I must be ready to enter those contracts with Rhodes Island since I am to be promoted. I am only too aware of how unequal those contracts are,” He says quietly to me.

“Don’t ask me about that,” I say genially, “I don’t know anything about it. I don’t want it to be my business.”

“You should learn from Rosa,” he says with a slight hint of disapproval, “She may only be sixteen but even she is trying her best and learning how to best use every skill she has.”

It’s interesting but so many people get out of Silverash’s way so quickly when he’s walking. Is it the height? Or is it the fact he’s followed by Matterhorn? Or is the combined bulk of both? 

“I’m only interested in whatever takes my interest now,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, “I’m useless as a business rival to Silverash, that’s more an Amiya thing. I’m just here to play with death rocks.”

“Well in that case, in some respects, you really have not changed my friend,” says Silverash as we walked into Vulcan’s workshop. Vulcan nods at Silverash who makes a formal bow towards her. 

I run towards Vulcan and lean at her, my hands on her desk. “Can we do it? Can we do it?” I ask eagerly. Vulcan nods. I clap my hands and open up my operator screen on my visor. I sort it out by rank and click on Silverash’s icon. I hit the promote button.

Vulcan’s holding a small tablet and scrolling down it. She watches the money be automatically deposited into her account.  Vulcan rubs her head. “Lappland, I need you to run at a “Texas is accompanied by Exusiai” speed,” she calls out, “Fast, fast, faster, slow!”. Lappland mockingly salutes her and starts pacing herself on the hamster wheel. 

Vulcan nods and presses a button onto the intercom machine. “Dobermann, I think you should come to my workshop,” she says as she holds out her hand. Silverash hands over his sword cane without even a hint of reluctance.

“Use this for your exams,” says Vulcan as she hands Silverash a practice sword cane.He nods.  She quickly strolls over to her anvil with the sword. I tug on Silverash’s hand and push him towards the practice room to the side of Vulcan’s sword. 

I plug the Elite Two Guard Promotion Chips simulation into the training room and flap my hand at Silverash. He enters the training room. I wave at him from outside. He nods at me and then prepares himself to fight the simulation enemies to prove his worth. “Faster, better, stronger, harder,” I hum with my arms crossed.

 Dobermann runs over to me. She takes a look at Silverash excelling at all the Elite Two Guard drills and sighs. Her tail droops and she stares at me out of the corner of her eye. “Doctor, you’ve set off a political minefield,” she says in mild exasperation.

“That may be so but… Rhodes Island’s policy of non-interference should apply here,” I say cheekily.

“You know perfectly well that’s not how she works,” she mutters, “His sword craft is beautiful though, a lot of my students could learn from him.”

We watch as Silverash completes the Elite Two Guard drills. At some point, his jacket has been thrown to the side. Vulcan and Lappland join us, Vulcan reverently holding onto the sword cane. Lappland stinks of sweat and her tail is wagging slightly. Doberman and I move away from Lappland.  

The red buzzer beeps. Silverash has completed the Elite Two Promotion. He strolls out of the room, Matterhorn on hand to hand him a towel. Vulcan hands him his sword cane. He nods graciously to her and accepts it, walking back into the training room.

He tests the sword out on the training dummies. It is sharp, his slices ring through the air. Lappland whistles, impressed. Then he slashes, he slashes the sword so fast that only a silver impression is left from his swings.

“When he swings like that, he is overwhelmingly powerful but also extremely vulnerable,” murmurs Dobermann, “His defences are sacrificed for attack power. ”

“It’s beautiful, it’s a silver slash,” I say entranced.

“True silver, the slashes look like true silver,” says Vulcan critically.

“I hope he calls it True Silver Slash,” I say whimsically as Silverash stands still. He slides his cane sword back into his sheath.

“It takes a daring person to drag me into their war. That being so, I, SilverAsh, will show my prowess for all of Rhodes Island to see,” declares Silverash.

Chapter Text

The monitoring equipment isn’t too loud when Warfarin and Aak take obs. The periodic beeping doesn’t echo around the room when they’re there.

Lappland lies in bed. Her face is paler than usual, if such a feat was possible. She stares up at the ceiling which papered in Penguin Logistics promotional pictures of Texas. Now and then she grits her teeth as her blood flows into one tube and out the other.

Aak types away on the obs machine. Warfarin asks Lappland questions I can’t hear. Lappland seems to be answering her politely enough although her ear is twitching in irritation. Now and then her eyes drift off to stare at something the rest of us can’t see.

“Everything feels the same as always Doctor Warfarin,” she says, “Are you certain that the experimental blood recycling actually does anything? Apart from making me feel like shit?”

“Well it is a trial,” says Warfairin, “And remember last year? Well, we’ll stop here for today. You’re doing really well Lappland. Once more, thank you for taking part in the trials.” she says

“Thank you Doctor Warfarin for visiting,” she says politely, her breath slightly laboured. 

I look at the monitoring screen. Everything seems fine. Except for Lappland in bed, struggling to breathe or be comfortable for sustained periods of time which apparently is normal.  “There won’t be anything unusual there,” cackles Aak, “She’s a guinea pig, she’s not dying.”

Warfarin puts a hand to Lappland’s forehead and gives her a little smile. “Rest up for today. I’ll see you at the Blood Bank next week,” she says gently. Lappland gives her a little nod. The two of them walk out, Aak pushing the obs trolley out of Lappland’s dorm room.

“Next week?” I ask.

“That vampire wants my blood once a month,” says Lappland as she puts her hands over her eyes, “In exchange for cultivating artificial blood transfusions, I let her have ten percent of the products for research. I’m very valuable as a cadaver, being a later stage three and all.”

“Your body is not as valuable as Skadi’s,” I joke as I lean over the side of her hospital bed. 

Lappland cackles. She looks so thin in her hospital gown with the monitoring clamps pinching her fingers and the tubes running in and out of her. “Nowhere near that valuable,” she agrees, “Can you get me some water Doc? These new blood nukies are really draining.”

I nod at her and pour her out a silicon cup of water. She sits up shakily, her hands trembling as she sips the water. I press my thumb on the Fluid Intake column on her obs monitor. “I’ll be back in action soon enough Doctor,” she says with a smile at me, “You can’t keep me away from the fight.”

“Don’t intend to,” I say as I take the cup from her, “I’m just going to make you more and more powerful.”

“Huh, you really like seeing me grow don’t you?” laughs Lappland.

“Why else do I feed you promotion records? Rest up Lappland,” I say as I rub her head gently, “I’ll watch your back for you. We’re memory buddies after all.”

“Grazie,” she murmurs. She shuts her eyes and slowly her breathing grows less laboured. She’s unusually clean today, she smells like hospital shampoo. Her hair is plaited in two, one over each shoulder. When she snores, I quietly sit back on the chair beside her bed.  My fingers tent up and my teeth are clenched. 

Shining stops outside Lappland’s door. She nods to me and walks over, taking a seat beside me. “Well Doctor, how are you enjoying your stay in the Stage Three Doctor’s Operators Dormitory?” she asks. 

“All I’ve done is watch Lappland undergo her Orialysis and the experimental Orifiltration. Worse ways to spend my annual leave I suppose,” I say with a shrug, “This dorm gets quite depressing though. Did the people here volunteer to stay here or is it involuntary medical treatment?”

“Everyone has different reasons for staying in this dormitory. You best ask each operator why they stay in this dormitory,” say Shining, ”I cannot tell their stories for them.”

“Fair enough,” I said as I let go of my fingers and prop it behind my head, “Though I’m wondering - why can’t you use healing arts on her right now? You use it often enough on operations.”

“Many of the treatments Lappland undergoes are in the clinical trial phases. We cannot provide standard care for her as it may impact the efficacy of her clinical trial treatment,” says Shining.

“Oh. Makes sense though it’s a bit hard on her,” I comment. 

We sit there in silence, looking at Lappland. Her moment of ease was temporary, her breath becomes laboured and choppy once more. I hear the various medical machinery beep in the background. It hurts to look at Lappland like this. “Did you see Amiya and Dobermann’s latest Doctor’s Squad recruitment dossier?” I say, forcibly injecting a tone of casualness in my voice.

“No,” she says in confusion, “I generally do not assist in that department.”

“Oh, just asking,” I said quickly, “There’s a few interesting healers there in that dossier. Do you know any of these healers or doctors?”

I project the dossier screencap I took of it. Shining points to the face of a Sankta researcher. “There are unsavoury rumors about that researcher,” she says, “I am afraid that they may be entirely true. You may wish to ask Provence or Blaze as to the veracity of those rumors. They have been on operations breaking up child trafficking rings.”

“I know,” I said, my face turning hard underneath my visor, “Provence told me all about them. They will never join Rhodes Island as a Doctor’s Operator.”

“I trust your judgement Doctor,” says Shining, “I trust that you will make the correct decision.”

“You’re just about the only one that does,” I laugh morosely. 

“Well, I will notify you if they are hired by Rhodes Island at another branch. People of their ilk… the light will bear witness to their actions,” says Shining, “Do you think Lappland would be equal to eating dinner in per say… an hour’s time? ”

“Doubt it. I think she’ll be more likely to throw it up,” I say bluntly, “She had some chicken before but she threw it up. She managed to keep down some liquid food though so that’s why they could progress.I know they were thinking about tubes if she keeps throwing up.”

“I will consult Warfarin in regards to food substitutes for Lappland, ” says Shining. “As you know Doctor - that there is a culture of pass evasion when it comes to dietary and drug taking in Rhodes Island. It is for situations like this that we insist upon sticking to your pass. I will see you around Doctor.”

Shining nods to me. I nod back at her as she leaves. I settle back into my chair. It’s hard to believe just a few days ago, I was up in the vents with Lappland. I play the memory on my emotivisor, just in the corner of my attention.

I staggered with a bottle of vodka about my person.  I wandered over to the western side of the landship.I threw up.

… Fast forward.

I am on my hands and knees. I wiped my mouth and threw up some more.

Fast forward. How does the body contain so much vomit? Oh right. An entire bottle of Ursus student confiscated vodka in all honesty.

I pulled myself up. I staggered about and climbed through a vent. I curled up in a corner. “;___;” flashed on my visor. I took a drone and played a little projection.

The drone can’t see the projection but… I know what the memory is. It’s one of the few memories I am certain about.

“That’s messed up,” said Lappland as she stared at my little projection. My head turned around. Lappland lay on her belly next to me, her ears twitched to catch the sound of the projection. Her jacket caused her to glint in the darkness.

“You think so?” I said.

“I do,” she said nodding,  “standard entrapment.”

“Thank you, I thought I was going mad… sorry about that,” I said.

“It’s cool Doctor, I know that I’m not the lupo I once was,” she said casually, “If I think it’s messed up, it’s pretty bad you know?”

“Huh? Lappland, you’re speaking casually to me?”

I feel a tug on my jacket. Morti is tugging on it. “Stop that,” I say absently, “Too much pressure and we will all die. What can I help you with?” I turn around to find Shamare sitting in the chair next to me. 

“First aid?” I say. Shamare nods.  “Rigtio, get me a sewing kit then,” I say. Shamare places a sewing kit on my knee. 

“Ok, time for first aid Morti,” I said. Morti nods at me. Okay…. I’m just gonna do stitches. I do quick, precise invisible stitches. I guess it really is muscle memory after all. I shouldn’t have the hand eye coordination for this.

I slammed my gloved hand against a “Rhodes Island Wants You” Doberman poster. “I’m not letting them in my Squad. The base is filled with children! A good chunk of my operators are underage! You have child soldiers! There’s an entire hospital dedicated to pediatrics!” I snarled.

I do a knot and snap the thread off vindictively.   “Ok, you’re all good to go Patient,” I laugh to Morti, “Just take it easy while you get used to it ok? Shamare? You’ve been good right? Is everything ok in your world?” I ask quietly. 

Shamare sits still staring at Morti when she nods. I give a small sigh of relief. Executor and Meteor appear by Lappland’s door. Guess it’s time for the nighttime younger operators tracking lessons. “Ok, see you,” I say. Shamare nods at me as she follows the two sniper operators. 

Executor and Meteor probably left the rest of the kids outside of the Stage Three Dorms with Provence. They’re good kids. I rub my head and pull up my recruitment screen again.  I will fight Amiya and Dobermann if I have to. Good. They deleted their suggestion. I knew it. It was just one of their stupid, stupid tests to check whether the old Doctor was there. I am so sick and tired of all those stupid, stupid tests. The only monster I will allow on my turf is Monst3r and myself.

Christine approaches me and rubs her body against my legs. I kneel down before her and give her an elaborate bow - it’s a clumsy imitation of Silverash’s. "The shadow behind you looks heavier than it was yesterday," says Phantom in a quiet voice.

“She’s not doing great at the moment. She’s just finished the worst of it,” I say, nodding my head at Lappland, “Welcome back Phantom.”

“I return Doctor,” says Phantom. “May I ask why you are present in Lappland’s abode? It is rare to have visitors here especially when one of our members is undergoing treatment.” 

Lappland slung an arm about me in the vents. “Come on Doctor! Let’s raise hell!” she laughed with a mischievous cackle, “We won’t let them implant false memories in us!” 

“You know you’re right,” I said, “Yeah! Let’s do it!”

There is a whoosh past my ear. Lappland slumped on my shoulder.

“Time for your treatment,” said a voice. A golden eye glinted from behind us.  

“Oh, I’m just here to observe,” I said, “I’m your commander so I should really understand the type of toll Stage Three treatments have on you guys. I don’t want to roster you when you’re not in peak condition.”

Lappland suddenly turns her head at us and bares her teeth. “Perhaps you should hire Texas to visit her now and then,” muses Phantom as he leans down to scoop up Christine.

“Can’t afford that,” I say as I close the recruitment screen, “Emperor would charge me through the roof. Let alone Texas.” 

A Rhodes Island Medic scurries in with a tray of liquid foods in biodegradable containers. Lappland scowls at it. “Jelly and mush,” mutters Lappland, “Just jelly and mush.”

“Just for today and tomorrow,” stammers the medic as they drop the tray by her bedside table, “Ummmm I’ll leave the food here!”

“Good evening Lappland,” says Phantom, “Miss Christine thanks you for those supplements for her toiletries.

“Think nothing of it,” says Lappland wearily, “The operators keep giving me psychiatry services advertising brochures for some reason. Glad someone’s getting use out of that crap.”

“Are you hungry Lappland?” I ask quietly as I walk over to her. She nods and gropes about tiredly for the apple container. I snap off the lid and pass it to her. She sucks on the nozzle disgruntedly.

“I need to keep my strength up but food like this makes me wonder why I bother fighting the oripathy,” she grumbles when she holds the packet, “It’s your turn next month Phantom.”

"Well, you’ll be able to eat properly when this round of oriaslysis is all finished,” I laugh, “I promise I’ll smuggle you whatever you want to eat, Hibiscus be damned.”

"Hibiscus?"

"The little purple medical resident," I say, "the one with the healthy food campaign."

"Oh her, Phantom threw her out for me last session," laughs Lappland, “We’re already dying, we don’t need to be threatened with salads.”

"You're assassins and you're afraid of a doctor with a salad?" I joke.

“I’m not the assassin, Phantom is,” says Lappland with a shrug.

“I simply fulfil the requests of my employers,” says Phantom softly, “If that makes me an assassin then I am one.”

“Huh. I would say you guys are assassin like?” I laugh.

“You think I'm an assassin, huh? Very well. You can see me as whatever you want,” says Lappland with a roll of her eyes, “Doctor, you’ve got to let me polish my swords. The later I stay here, the more my swords and skills will rust.”

“No. You’ll throw up all over your swords. Again. I've got Vulcan on the job,” I say insistently, “She’s coming in tomorrow afternoon so you can watch her perform maintenance.”

"Fine. She's the only one, other than Texas, I would trust with my swords," she mutters, "She knows what she’s doing."

“Rest up so you can be at your true power ok? I’ve got some people for you to test your power against when you’re at full strength. Why do you need to polish your swords so much?”

“Blood rusts the blade, fat contaminates the core. Have you tried slicing people in half? There’s a lot of resistance there. Not that you would be able to continue doing that if you don’t maintain your weapons - you’ll end up getting sliced up while you were struggling to get your blade out of some poor sucker,” grumbles Lappland.

“That is true,” murmurs Phantom, “Preparation is the key to all operations. However, once more I thank you Lappland for being the explorer of these new treatments. Would you like to have Miss Christine console you?”

“I can’t even eat. How am I expected to do all of Christine’s fancy bows?” grumbles Lappland as she places the empty liquid food container on the table by her bed, “I am a living cadaver.”

“You cannot obtain power without going through the trials of pain,” says Phantom.

“At that rate, I ought to be strong enough to annihilate the whole base. But you’re right. A small setback rather than a large one in the future,” sighs Lappland, “Did Texas ask after me in the Trading Post?”

“No. But she’s not on Trading Post anyway,” I said quickly. 

“Miss Texas did receive your letter. I saw Courier deliver it to her at the Vanguards training,” said Phantom. I tilt my head at him. “I had been requested by Ms Dobermann to provide training to some of the specialists,” he states.

Lappland gives a dry cackle and hacks up coughing. Her coughs slowly cease and she lies back down. “Thanks,” she says, “I can sleep now.” Phantom nods at her and walks out of the door, Christine following him.

“I shouldn’t ask but… letter?” I say as I tuck her in, making sure she’s good for blankets.

“Just a little love letter,” says Lappland, “About my scrapbooks. Beside drawer. Could you please give me the black one? You may look through the red one if you like,” she says. I go through her bedside draw and give her the black book. I put the red book carefully in my pocket. She sighs contentedly when I put the black book over her heart.

I sit down and watch Lappland. When her chest rises and falls with an ease I haven’t seen in days, I flip idly  through the scrapbook. They're small books, small enough to hide inside the breast pocket of a jacket. There’s faded photographs, half printed, faded poor quality.  The majority is photographs of two lupo girls. They look so young. Happy? I don’t know about that. But they’re definitely living, even if there’s a photo of the two of them hand in hand as a building blows up behind them. The white haired girl is more of a blond in the photos. She looks like an unscarred Lappland. The other girl who is a bit more solemn sometimes in the photos? That’s definitely Texas

“ Hey Lappland,” I asked in the darkness as we struggled to push the vehicle out of the mud, “What’s up with you and Texas?”

“You want to know what happened between Texas and I? Ha, that's... a real tricky subject. You'll find out the truth someday, but not from me,” she said as she leaned her back on the vehicle, “I don’t know what the truth is.”

"Oripathy?"

"Oripathy. I have my old scrapbooks which tell me what my truth was though. And my truth was Texas. Everytime I read through them, I fall in love with Texas again.”

“Why?”

“She’s just so cool in them!” gushes Lappland as she suddenly lifts the ute out of the mud.

Texas….

Texas calls me every week to request that I stop scheduling her with Lappland but she won’t give me the reason why. I can guess and I feel like a douche, scheduling them together with Exuisiai. But she doesn’t tell anyone else she doesn’t want to be near Lappland - just that she’ll rather not interact with her. 

“It’s up to her,” said Emperor, “She’s got to make her own choices.”

I nodded and walked over to Texas. She stared into her glass of whisky. “Doctor,” she said measuredly as she put down her glass amongst the myriad of empty glasses. 

“Doctor. Lappland is alone wolf. She's lost her family and will never truly be a part of another one. I can’t be her family, ” said Texas.  Texas rubbed her ear in frustration and picked up her whisky.  “No matter how hard I run, my past will catch me one day,” she mused quietly, “But… not today. Not right now.”

“Well, here’s to running away from the past,” I laughed as we clinked glasses.

I flip through the scrap book again. Lappland will show it anyone who will look and to the medical professionals and the Justice Department to prove that she’s not just Texas’s crazed stalker. It just proves to them howerver, she’s Texas’s crazed stalker ex.  That’s probably why there’s not that many pictures of them bloodied and brutal. The photos in it are soft, a happy couple. 

“No one can make you do anything, Doctor. The things I do, I do it because I can. I do it because it’s in my power. The weak die.” she said, the wind whipping her hair back and forth.

"Good Evening Professor" whispers Arene, "I'm here to do the night observation watch."

"I thought you were part of the Biochemistry lab," I mutter.

"I’m also part of the Warfarin lab, I need to get my observation hours up to graduate," says Arene, "Wow the test subject is really quiet when she's sedated… even a bit boring."

“Isn’t that the whole point of sedation?” I say quietly as I put the little red book into my pocket, “Have you had much to do with her?”

“Not too much, I know that the instructors are thinking about having me follow and observe her. Seeing her here really makes you realize… she’s just another human. She doesn’t seem like the Lappland on missions we see,” muses Arene as he pulls out the Obs machine and logs in.

“Oh yeah, I put the two of you on the same mission for chips. You have similar fighting styles you know. Did you get a chance to talk then?”

“She told me in detail about her power fighting system,” says Arene, “It’s interesting how she considers anyone who earns above two hundred thousand lungmen dollars per annum powerful by default.”

“What?” I say, “She’s managed to put a monetary value on it?”

“It is completely crazy but it makes a mad sort of sense,” mused Arene as he typed away, “Her logic appears to be that if you’re powerful to earn that much money, you’re either physically powerful enough to protect yourself and the money or you have enough money to hire protection which she will defeat which makes it a fair fight.”

“That’s … actually pretty interesting. I wonder if she accounts for things like changes in the market and dollar power,” I muse before I yawn. 

“You’ll have to ask her that. You can take a nap Professor,” says Arene, “I’m on shift.”

“Thanks Arene,” I say as my eyes close shut. I remember to project a  “(´〜｀*) zzz.” on my emotivisor. My thoughts idle about .  It’s… really hard to nap in this room, it’s just filled with eyes… Texas’s eyes. Yeah, even having no light on doesn’t help because they’re still looking. Maybe if there was light?

“Light?” said the silver haired young man. His feline ears twitched in confusion as he struggled to pull apart the chopsticks. He frowned as he snapped apart the disposable chopsticks.

I shovelled the cheap rice down my throat. “It’s an old religion only still practiced in Kadlez,” I said as rice splayed from my mouth, “I came across it in the library. It seems really cool! I’m going to hunt down any remnants of that religion when I go to Kadlez.”

The young man winced and avoided the spray of food. He leant over and wiped my face with a tissue. “Chew with your mouth shut,” he instructed, “You are fifteen not five.”

“We’re eating cheap foodcourt food. Huh, where’s that bodyguard of yours? The big forte one?” I asked.

“Oh. He has travelled back home to assist with the young ones,” said the young man, “I am but an ordinary student here after all.”

“Ordinary students don’t have flash cars or people begging them for viva la revolution. But young ones? Your two little sisters right?”

“And an itra. You would like them, especially since the middle children are about your "

"Get out of here!" Screamed a Yen shop keeper, "infected!"

"It’s sad to watch families abandoned the infected but I guess it's just pragmatic," i say, "the needs of many outweigh mercy to one person even a child."

“You were right! Those bitches have no standards, no mercy for even children! She's infected!” 

The brown haired woman buried her face in her hands. The sun shone on her despite the blizzard that whirled outside.

“How did it happen?”

“Did you know back in Rim Biliton she was casting? Because of that, her exposure in the forsaken land has only increased,” cried the woman, “It’s happened to us but… it’s happened to her too. It’s all Kal’tsit’s fault.”

“We can still send her to my friends. It isn’t too bad over on Kjerag. ”

“She won’t leave. She wouldn’t leave in any event, Theresa’s filled her full of crap about her birthright and war,” moaned the brown haired woman. She rocked back and forth crying. I slapped her. She stared at me with confusion in her eyes. 

 “You trust me don’t you? Then trust me. I have a plan. This may seem like a nightmare but I’ll get us out of it. Kal’tsit and Theresa will be forced to wake up from their dreams.”

“Wake up?”

“Wake up Doctor!” whispers Arene.  My eyes flutter and I stare at Arene groggily.  “Aak is here,” He whispers to me. Aak waves at me. Arene nods to the two of us and walks off.

“Just doing a quick obs my man,” he says cheerfully as he hops onto the obs machinery, “Though with Lappland, we never have to do obs for long.”

"BloiWork once every three weeks and orialysis once every three months," said Shining as Lappland lay down on the convoy hospital bed, "Lappland's work for you doctor ensures she can access all of these treatments"

"Letting the docs worry about it means I can focus on becoming more powerful," laughed Lappland as she sat up suddenly. Shining pushed her back down gently.

“You would be more powerful if you stopped exposing your belly,” I grumbled.

 Lappland groans as her eyes flutter awake. “Those new meds are a bitch,” she groans, “You know what Doc? Sometimes I really regret signing up for those damn medical trials?”

“Want breakfast in bed?” I ask her gently. She rolls over to the side and throws up. Aak cackles. It’s just liquid.  Well… that answers my question. I walk over to the cupboard and gather cleaning supplies to mop up.

Gavial strolls into the room, nodding at Aak. “Jelly it is today,” she says as she inspects Lappland, “We’ll keep you on liquid foods today - that should do it for your fluid and dietary intake. If you get any worse, it’s the IV drip for you ma’am. I’ll get you on Healing Arts as soon as Warfarin gives the ok.”

“Not with you,” groans Lappland, “You jab that needle into my arm any harder, you might as well rip my arm off.”

“Sorry Lappland but I’m the Dorm Doctor for today,” cackles Gavial. Lappland groans and flops back onto her bed. 

“Doc, I feel like I’m dying. Can you bring Texas here? I'm not dying without her watching.”

“You haven’t reached your full potential yet, so you’re not dying today. I promise Texas will be there watching when I let you die,” I say. She cackles and ceases.

“Doctor?” she says in a small voice.

“Yes?”

“You promise you’re gonna make me stronger?”

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

“Her name’s not really Amiya you know? It’s a heathen name her mother gave her,” said the white haired Sarkaz woman as she rubbed her chin, “Her father was a distant member of my bloodline.”

“If you knew of her existence, why did you leave her in the orphanage?” 

“Even royals must work. Her father immigrated to Columbia and then to Victoria and we lost track of him. I guess at that point, they must have been at Rim Billiton, they were far enough that the confessarious could never bless her into her birthrights,” sighed the woman. 

“But you’ve somehow managed to recognize her?”

“Blood is blood,” said the sarkaz woman with a shrug, “For better or worse, it’ll be the blood that counts.”

”Theresis?” 

“Theresis. He’s always been obsessed with blood purity. Oh there are probably others in our bloodline but Amiya is special,” she said as she grasped her hands over her knees.

"You're gonna turn her head by telling her she's special due to her blood. Well, she’s very talented at arts casting for someone her age."

“She is, isn’t she? Kal’tsit thinks she’s extraordinary gifted,” laughed the white haired woman.

“Huh? She managed to get Kal’tsit to approve of her? Well, aren’t you glad that you guys headhunted me after all?”

“Babel was blessed when you came to us, Doctor.”

“Doctor.”

“Doctor!”

I’m being shaken awake. My head is fuzzy. When I open up my eyes, I see Mountain leaning over me, grasping me by the shoulders. Urgh. I must have blacked out for a bit there. I can’t remember what I was dreaming about. There’s a bottle of wine on my lap and a bottle of water beside me. “Is it time?” I mutter sleepily.

“Yes, it starts in a few minutes,” says Mountain as he peers into my face to make sure I’m alright. He hands me a bottle of water. “For you to fall asleep so defenselessly in the company of others... I can't tell if you are being trusting or negligent.“”

“Thanks Mountain,” I say with a yawn. I chug the bottle of water down. Mountain’s tail whacks the floor slightly as he settles back down beside me. I put the bottle of water down and pick the bottle of wine off my lap.

“You have had enough for today. Anymore and you will not be capable of composing that brief for Dobermann,” says Mountain as he takes the bottle of wine away from me. He stands up and places the bottle of wine on the table, his white suit jacket neatly placed over the nearby chair. When he turns back around to see me, I flip him a finger as I take out a pilot palm out of my pockets with my other hand.

“That is not a rude gesture,” says Mountain. He tilts his head and his ears twitch slightly in thought. “Except maybe in Sargon,” he says amending his statement.

“Huh really?” I say distractedly as I stretch out my arm and wriggle my fingers about, “My fingers are rude in different cultures then. You know, you shouldn’t be drinking that much,” I say as I look up at Mountain, “Bro, you’re infected.”

“I can still drink in moderation,” says Mountain, “Of course, taking in account my fitness and my body mass, my moderation and capacity is greater than most others on base. You really should just drink at your own pace Doctor.”

“This is my pace,” I say, closing my eyes, “It just happens to match yours”. My brain feels fuzzy - I’ve missed this feeling. Mountain sits back down and pats his lap gently. I happily lie on his lap. He’s an awesome lap pillow. He idly strokes my head and I dig my head further in his lap. It’s really comforting.

My emotivisor is currently being used for projection against the white wall. The screen projects an empty room with a few tablet stands to represent the speakers and chairs for an audience. The front table isn’t really a table. It’s an enclosed plastic cube with a oxygen tube. There’s a projection screen behind it. It’s probably for Amiya. I keep forgetting how severely she is infected. 

“Are you taking your notes now?” he asks.

“Not note notes, I’m going to go at 2x Speed,” I say as I place the palm tablet on his knee within easy reach to tap on, “I’m just going to note down the times and points I should summarize for now. After all, most press conferences are mainly fluff you know? Even the Annual Shareholders Report. Man, it’s such a circus.”

“No matter the land or the nation, humans love a show,” remarks Mountain dryly, “How much do you know about the different cultures and countries that inhabit terra?” 

“Not that much,” I say, shifting my head so I can see the screen, “Amnesia did a number on me. All the stuff I know is from the internet and the other operators to be honest.”

“Oh, your impressive multilingual skills led me to believe otherwise,” says Mountain. I feel his tail settle over my legs like a blanket. I idly stroke his tail. 

We’re in the Ursus student room. It’s fine to drink here -  the Ursus kids were sent off with the Press Conference Contingency so we can’t trigger any of their underage drinking problems. 

“Your language skills are also pretty impressive. Victorian, Iberian, Leithnanian and a very good smattering of modern Yen from you. I’ll teach you Sargonian while I’m at it maybe,.” I say, “Do you like languages?”

“I had the time so I taught myself languages with the assistance of my fellow inmates. However I had not the opportunity to learn in detail the culture of those nations I learnt the languages of. All I had was Columbian Literature. It is a rather one sided perspective,” says Mountain moodily. 

“Well, almost all the literature is a one sided perspective due to isolationist policies,” I say as I lean on Mountain’s arm, “So whatever people write is as a result of their research and the internets. You get really weird anomalies from it.”

“That is true enough,” says Mountain with a small smile. We settle into a comfortable silence as we watch the projection. Nothing much is happening. The journalists are just trickling in. Now and then I catch a glimpse of one of my operators on the screen, doing an odd job. We saw a flash of Zima setting up some of the conference call gear under the direction of Istina and Nearl. 

“I keep telling you Doctor,” says Mountain as he swirls the wine glass, “ That the poor taste of this wine comes from inadequate storage. Well Doctor, have you decided to build that wine cellar yet?”

“That poor taste is because I brought it from Perfumer, Mountain. It’s her lesson plan wine. I don’t think she actually expects anyone to drink it but here we are.”

“Well Doctor, all the more reason why I should teach you what good wine tastes like.”

“Teach me it without the wine cellar Mountain. I’m still being punished by Shining at the moment,” I groan. 

“So that is the reason why you’ve chosen to watch the press conference in this room?” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, it’s not that. It’s just that the projection works better in this room because it’s so analog. No other light sources or machinery to interfere. I could have also done this in the cafeteria but I already got my popcorn from Dur-Nar,” I say with a smile as I settle onto his knee.

Amiya walked up confidently to the table and took a seat behind the protective screen. “Thank you for attending the Rhodes Island Annual Shareholder Report,” said Amiya, “I want to thank you all for attending and for your interest...”

“Probably due to the sheer extent we’ve been fiddling in politics lately. Lungmen. Chernobog. Reunion. Victoria. Mansfield Prison thanks to you Mister. Dobermann’s been having a hell of a time. Well I leave the politicking up to her and Kal’tsit,” I said absently.  

“That is unwise Doctor,” says Mountain puts down his wine glass, “To leave your destiny in the control of others.”

“To seek new paths, to seek new ways is the destiny of Rhodes Island...”

“My destiny remains in my hands. It just isn’t tied up with the countries, politics or even Rhodes Island,” I say with a shrug, the best I can when I’m lying down, “ I’m just here for the ride.”

“Is that because you feel like you could get off at any moment?” asks Mountain as he lets me pull onto his right hand and hug it. It’s so plush, soft and warm. It feels good. I rub my cheek against it until I feel that he probably wants a response.

“You’re prying Mountain,” I say, “I’ll tell you when you need to know.”

“Hmmm it is strange. You’ve seen me at my most bloodthirsty, my most destructive and my most violent,” he muses, “And you call me your friend. Yet… you don’t call me by my name.”

“You never told me to,” I said as I rolled, lying on my back, facing him. 

“Such a simple reason is like you, Doctor. Please, call me Anthony,” says Mountain, “My friend, what is your name?”

“Anthony… Well I’ll probably keep calling you Mountain unless we’re alone. I’m just Doctor. I haven’t found any other names to call myself yet.” I say.  

“So why have you kept the name of Doctor?” asks Mountain.

“It was Amiya’s gift to me,” I shrug, “I like presents. ”

“Well Doctor, just you wait, I will give you Mansfield as a gift,” says Mountain.

“That would be one hell of a gift. It would make a better gift to your girls you know - especially Kafka. She's the one who likes puzzles,” I laugh, “Oh, they’re doing the Q and A first off before going onto the financials.”

“Victorian Parliament has alleged that Rhodes Island is creating a military in contravention of Terran Law. Why does a pharmaceutical company have a military presence?” asked a journalist. 

“I don’t know why it surprises people that Rhodes Island had to turn paramilitary,” I grumble as I tap, “Terra’s a not very nice place to begin with.”

“The surprise is nothing more than a pretext when it comes to preventing the creation of a new city landship,” says Mountain contemplatively, “Although Rhodes Island is under Columbian jurisdiction, it is nominal. Any adherence to their laws is purely out of courtesy.”

“Well, they should be glad we give them that courtesy while they don’t pay the same to us,” I groan as I tap at the next few questions and answers, “They kill their talent via brain drain while trying to steal our patents and headhunt our staff. Ch’en’s gonna lose all her hair by the end of the month just from having to deal with Legal and the jurisdictional changes.”

“Well, the Migration and Travel sector of the Legal Department assists the mobile base and our operators to travel about smoothly,” says Mountain soothingly as he gently rubs the back of his hand against my cheek. 

“I refer to the resettlement of the Oripathic. After all, many jurisdictions rely upon the Rhodes Island Certificate of Clearance when it comes to their immigration processes. ”

“You think people would lay off because we’re one of the few organizations that provide care, aftercare and corpse disposal services for a god damn plague but no,” I grumble.

“May that is why they are especially cautious. Altruism in our world does not come without a motive. Every nation and cultural group is simply looking out for their own interests,” says Mountain.

“So is every bandit, assassin and thief out there. Closure has traumatised enough engineers and logistics cleaners by making them clear out human gunk from underneath the base treads. Though mind you, there’s an interesting new threat out there if we head around Iberia.”

“Oh what is it?”

“Ideological beliefs. There’s this new religious group out there that thinks oripathy is a punishment from the Gods higher and below. So they have their severely infected turn into originium blocks and use those blocks to power their equipment. I suppose the scarcity of resources has lead to that but still....” I complain.

“How do you respond to allegations that Rhodes Island’s attendance at catastrophes is to secure limited originium resources and monopolize pre-catastrophe technology?” asked a journalist.

“Most of our pre-catastrophe tech comes from the brain of Adnachiel if I had to be honest. He’s a reservist in the Engineering Weapons section,” I murmur sleepily.

“Is he not the young boy who goes about with the severely infected nun?” asks Mountain.

“He’s about your age, you know? He’s older than he looks. Spectre finds him soothing to be about. ”

“He’s establishing a flock amongst some of the staff and refugees,” says Mountain, “It is interesting what little things can make people believe so fervently.”

“Well, all the Doctor’s Operators have a big presence at Rhodes Island, even our robots and two stars,” I say, “Yato and Noir Corne have a very dedicated fan base trying to matchmake them together. I believe there may a schism when it comes to who is the dominant one.. ”

“Rhodes Island will continue to release the patents to key oripathy management devices,” said Amiya, “Our goal is to eradicate oripathy. We cannot eliminate oripathy by ourselves - it is only through the assistance and cooperation of the scientific community, we can help lead to a better future. We are the vanguard but we are not the whole army. Now I move onto the financials of Rhodes Island.”

“Amiya is very impressive for her age,” says Mountain, “I do not think I would be capable of being a key executive for such a large corporation at her age. Well, even if I had had those opportunities.”

“I’m tired Anthony,” I whine as Amiya goes into a spiel of numbers.

“Take a rest Doctor,” says Mountain, “I’ll prompt you when something interesting occurs.”

I nod and relax my body. His tail is heavy but warm. I slightly shift it away from my jacket lining - that could be dangerous.  Mountain looks and listens intensely to the press conference. Numbers, figures and charts wash over my ears. 

Dobermann rubbed her temples for the fourth time. I lay there slumped on the table as I chewed on a chess piece. Amiya looked extremely disappointed.  “Well, a mind for chess is not indicative of a mind for strategy, ” Amiya tried to say in a reconciliatory manner.

“In fairness to the Doctor, they seem to be a tactical genius even if nothing else is there in the upper story,” said Dobermann grimly, “The results achieved in Chernobog speak for themselves.”

Ok. Not a memory I wanted to think about. Damn the drunkenness. 

Silverash gave me a look of disappointment. I stamped my feet. “I am not going to save the world or solve any great problems,” I cried, “Heroes die. I’m going to live in as much comfort as I can afford!”

Also not a good memory. I tremble. Mountain starts to rub my head. My body is tense.  “You may hug my tail,” he says with unusual gentleness. I nod and grab at his tail and curl up. It feels like hours but it was minutes in reality. 

“The Warlord?” says Mountain with a frown, “Doctor, you may wish to pay attention to the screen.”

Silverash sat next to Amiya at the press conference table. “I am proud to announce the start of a fulfilling partnership,” he said, “A partnership for the betterment of not just our nations but to Terra itself...”

“Who?” I say as I lean my head up to take a better look. “Oh! Silverash! Ummm what’s so important about that?”

“His actions… that is quite the message to send to the greater world.”

“Why?” I say curiously.

“He’s sitting next to an openly infected person,” says Mountain, “While there is considerably less discrimination of the infected in Columbia, other jurisdictions may not look so kindly on such a position. For example in Victorian, it is not uncommon to refuse to do business with those known to reside with infected family members. Victorians hide their infected family members while publicly disowning them. ” 

“I see,” I said slowly, “It’s a rather sad type of world isn’t it Anthony? Just people attempting to overwhelm each other by shows of force and power while we’re dying… we’re all dying. There are too many sorrows to drown. Are we really achieving anything?”

“Rhodes Island is,” says Anthony slowly, “I used to think that Rhodes Island was just another Mansfield, a prison of 'freedom.' And you. You are me. You are a prisoner of freedom. You are the king. Yet now I know that's not the case. This is not a prison, and you are the friend of everyone here. You will achieve many things merely by being our friend.”

Chapter Text

From my Priestess Control Chair, I watch my operators methodically kill wolves, then grunts, then big boys with their harpoon guns. Oh, they may be the latest thing in Ursus Empire technology but they’re also no match for Sutur’s fire sword of death.

Breeze hums a Victorian pop song as she prepares the medic bay for Surtur. “Can you get the temp drop?” she calls out to Sussurro who nods and takes out the bottle. 

On the screen, Siege spins around smashing skulls as Indra steps fast to bash skulls with her knuckle dusters. Blue Poison is up high, systematically picking off combatants with her poison vial shots. 

It’s all under control as I have Lappland go Lappland, picking off the Ursus Empire strike drone. It’s gone. I can't help but feel this annihilation mission is a chore to get my weekly haul. We’re stuck out here for another week at least. We’ve got to go through abandoned mines, pick off Ursus Empire cells posing as Reunion and annihilate the lot while taking their originium resources. Gotta have some reward for our work. 

I feel like I should care a bit more about the sanctity of life but the opponents are soldiers, we’re protecting civilians and for the opponents, death is but an occupational hazzard. 

Is there another way? Probably. But they come with consequences and we won’t be able to lie to the younger operators that what we do is for the greater good or self defence. Also… if I go against Kal’tsit’s plans, that just gives her an excuse to eliminate me. 

It’s been a good time to get off base. As a result of Rhodes Island’s emergence as a major playor in Terra politics, tensions have increased. In turn, base tensions increased as we prepare for battle - potentially against everyone but ourselves. 

Silverash has been lying low, overshadowed by the many other personalities that entered Rhodes Island as one of my operators. Executor and Ptilopsis have been freaking everyone out, stalking after them at midnight to ensure their wills are up to date. Dusk has been temperamental and her “I’m immortal hence humans have done this all before” act is going to get on everyone’s nerves soon. Even Kal’tsit’s feeling the tension - she’s getting worse at treating me with sheer neutrality although no one else has detected the sheer hatred she has for me. They just think she finds me annoying, like the majority of the base does.

Whoops, I wasn’t paying attention. I focus on my priestess screen and drop in Sideroca to cover one of my lanes and give Bison a hand. She drops into the battle field and begins to slash systematically. 

Kal’tsit…. 

That woman’s keeping me around for a reason and I doubt it’s solely due to her love of Amiya or her promise to that Theresa woman. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to do things solely for a reason. I don’t think she’s 45 either. From what Folinic and Passenger have let slip, if she’s 45, I’ll let Warfarin bite me repeatedly. 

I feel like there’s a clue left in Old Me’s memoirs. It was a book of a ruthless although strangely charismatic young adult. Full of hope for the future yet with an utter determination to do whatever it took to create their vision for the world. And they had the power to do it as well.

Well I don’t have that power. All I can do is keep my head down in the environment Kal’tsit’s constructed for me. It’s not a prison because I suspect that if I walked out, she would let me leave provided I never breached certain rules. Unfortunately I don’t know what they are. 

“Operation Complete,” says Projekt Red into my ear. One of Kal’tsit’s kids. Well I’ve been trying to win them over to me but they’re ultimately loyal to their mummy.

“Thanks Projekt Red,” I say as I teleport people back onto the ship. They’re all dirty, bleeding, sweating and dishevelled in various degrees. Breeze smiles at all of them and lines them up one by one in order of severity. No one has severe injuries, nothing that a speed heal could fix up from where I’m looking.

I hop off on my command unit and take a seat. The driver drops by and nods at me. “Mission complete Doctor?” he asks. I tilt my head and p ull up my originium quota. My drones scavaged 350 originium and I doubt we can get any more this week.

“Yeah, once Breeze and Sussurro give the all clear and the latest round of civilians are deposited back to their village, let’s head back to base,” I say with a yawn, “We’ve been here for a while. ”

“Will do Doctor,” says the Pilot with a salute. I crack my shoulders as Surroro leads a string of villages towards me. 

“They wish to return to their village,” she says with a quiet whisper.

I give her a thumbs up. “Ok, where do you want to go to? What’s your village name? Is it ok if we leave you at the entrance?” I say in Ursus.

The oldest one there looks at me in surprise. “Umm yes, we would like to go back. Our village is Shlisselburg,” says a middle aged man.

“Ok, well you know the drill. If you tell the empire where you’ve been, they’ll kill your village. And that will save us the bother of killing you,” I say, “Dead men don’t speak.”

They nod grimly. They’ve probably all been through this before.

“Okie dokie, if you can point out your village on this map, we’ll teleport you there,” I say as I roll out a map of nearby villages. The middle aged man takes a deep, hesitant breath and points at the map. I flash “просьба подтвердить” on my visor. He nods.  Sussurro nods at me and ushers them onto a small makeshift telepad created by four drones hovering in the shape of a square.

“Ok, I’m dropping you there. So by the way, if you’ve lied, you’re going to fall exactly in the place you lied,” I laugh as I grab their image and throw it towards the map. They shimmer in blue and disappear. 

They probably didn’t lie. Probably. But we’ve done more than enough for them - medical care, military checks and getting them home. If they tried to use me as an opportunity to settle a blood feud, I don't care. I had no idea that civilians would get caught in the crossfire of the abandoned mines so we simply didn’t prepare any civilian casualty or refugee services. Sure, we packed enough for our squad, convoy to survive for a month but that was in case we got lost.

It’s feelings like these that make me realize why they’re keeping an eye on me. I simply don’t care enough about people. 

“Hey Doctor,” calls out Indra as she slings an arm about me, “Are we heading back now?”

“Yup!” I say with a laugh, “I’ve got all I need so let’s head back to base.”

“We’re heading back guys!” calls out Indra. The others let out cheers and the mood significantly improves.

“Finally, Lappland will take a shower,” says Siege. Indra laughs and nods.

“Take a seat Doctor,” says Indra as she pulls me down onto a seat. Siege sits down and hands me a lollipop. I pop it in my mouth, the stick of it juts out of my visor. It’s really sour.

“Urgh how do you eat this, it’s so sour?” I say as Indra laughs.

Siege just sucks on her lollipop. She shrugs. “I had a friend once,” says Siege, her ears twitching slightly. “They used to smuggle me these lollies from the village sweet store. They always gave me the sour flavours.”

“Did you want it or because they didn’t want it?” I ask, temporarily taking the lollipop out of my mouth.

“Because I wanted it,” said Siege, “I wonder where they are now, they were a child prodigy.”

“Probably stuck at a university somewhere,” I said, “You girls are Glasgow right? Most of the Victorian child prodigies ended up at a university or college.”

“Egghead factories,” jokes Indra.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so. They didn’t seem like that type of person back then,” says Siege

“When was the last time you saw them?” I ask.

“Hmmmm, twelve years ago,” says Siege.

“Well, people change a lot,” says Indra with a yawn, “Was it that gloomy goth looking kid?”

“Yes,” said Siege.

“Then you’re probably better off asking Mister Silverash about them,” said Indra, “As smart as Docs is, I don’t think they can help you track down your old Londinium friends.”

“You’re right there,” I laugh, “Stalking isn’t my line of work. Ask Lappland though. She’s a genius at it.”

“Yeah, only for finding Texas,” snorts Indra.

“Texas?” asks Lappland brightly as she sits next to me, linking her arms with mine.

“Do you know where Texas is right now?” I ask.

Lappland tilts her head, her face scrunched up in thought. “Probably…. On a delivery mission for Penguin Logistics located in…. I would say Lungmen!” she says triumphantly after a few moments have passed.

“Ok, we’ll check up on that when we get back. I’ll buy you a Vulcan polishing service if you’re right,” I say with a laugh. Lappland nods and starts polishing up her swords. There’s nothing for me to do so I close my eyes.

I’m actually really tired. Really, really tired. 

“Doctor. Explain it to me like I’m five,” said the brown haired woman in amusement. “That’s going to be the rough mental age of your proposed investors.”

“Ok. Fine. It’s reverse originium,” I said, “Normal originium supplies energy. Reverse originium sucks away energy. It’s a reverse of the conduit technology. For something so simple, it’s amazing no one else explored it yet. Must be some type of conspiracy. ”

“Possibly because no one wanted to waste all that originum. What happens if it sucks up too much electricity?” asked the brown haired woman with a raised eyebrow.

“It explodes. And….”

“And?”

“Well, I don’t know because it’s purely theoretical?”

“Stop lying.”

“Fine. It would kinda kinda generate an anti-originium style barrier.”

“What would this barrier do?”

“Do you remember when we wandered around the University of Londinium open day and got to try out that artificial chemical weathering machine in the Geology lab?”

“You mean that you’ve created a barrier which weakens and disintegrates originium and anything remaining is a chemically different waste product?”

“Complete with the bubbling over foam that dissolves. ”

“Doctor… what you’ve just invented would change warfare and possibly not for the better….”

“I knew that you would find something wrong with it ,Priestess.”

“Of course there’s something wrong with it! Our technology isn’t sufficiently advanced enough to allow one’s brain map to be uploaded onto the internet! And that’s not even in discussion of the ethics of it!”

“Lots of things aren’t ethical,” I laughed, “Like stealing Kal’tsit research Priestess. ”

“You don’t mean….”

“I do mean the sarcophagus. ”

I wake up. The vehicle is rumbling along silently. Everyone is sleeping slumped, seat belts strapped on. I undo my seat belt and make my way up to the driver’s section.

“Hey Doctor,” says the Driver.

“Hey. ”

“It’s a nice night, if you want, you can stick your head out of the vehicle roof.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” I say. I make my way to the body of the vehicle and stick my head out. I stare at the night sky. When I look at the stars, all my worries seem to dissipate in the wind. I feel as though I have nothing to worry about. But I have everything to worry about. 

Nothing like me at the moment. I close my eyes and let the cool breeze comfort me.

“Time to get below!” whispers Sideroca as she slings an arm around my legs. I'm being dragged down to earth. I stare at her slightly nonplussed.  “Safety hazard,” she whispers as she carries me back onto a seat, “We have to minor catastrophe storm shelter right now.”

““Hey Sideorica, have you ever heard of reverse originium?” I ask quietly as she fusses over me trying to put a seatbelt on me. Her eyes widen and she quickly hugs me.

“Don’t speak about it openly,” she whispers into where she thinks my ears might be.”

“What do you know about it?” I ask her against her skin.

“Not much. Doctor…. Please don’t research it…. A few of my employers were assassinated when they started researching something they called reverse originium. And the assassinations were always in a way that only a really meticulous coroner could have detected. But there was none,” she finishes off with a tremble.

I hug her. I hug her as tightly as I can. She’s shivering slightly. She’s so young but she’s had so many employers through no fault of her one.

“I promise I’ll stay safe,” I lie. 

Chapter Text

Let it never be said that Executor doesn’t have a sense of humor. 

Sideroca and I stare down his booby trapped corridor. Ansel is calmly lying in one of the nets above, he’s reading a textbook on his tablet.  "Heart attack female liberi aged 24," calls out Ansel.

"Lethargy, abdominal distension, blueish tint in skin around eyes," calls out Hibiscus trapped in goo on the floor.

"Chest discomfort, pain extending to jaws and lungs, needs artery decloggers," calls Myrrh from the wall. Vermeil is crawling on the wall, patiently cutting the nets that trap Myrrh to the wall with a hunting knife. 

Executor has a sense of humor and I suspect it leans towards physical comedy. 

“Is this his idea of ‘non lethal’?” asks Sideroca, blinking her eyes at the sight. 

“No, it’s his idea of ‘no lasting effect’,” I say absently as I send my drones over to Ansel and Hibiscus, “His idea of non-lethal sent too many interns to the hospitals.”

"Blossom was just released," volunteers Hibiscus, “The no oxygen trap got her.”

My hands simmer in blue. I thrust my fist forward and pull it back. Ansel appears behind me and falls down on his face. I punch the air and carve out the air around my fingers. Hibiscus appears behind me, smiling gracefully as though her body isn’t entirely covered in slime.

“Thank you Doctor,” says Ansel as he shakes his head and pats himself off, “Would you be able to teleport me to Executor?”

I give him a thumbs up and set up my projector through my drones. “What about Myrrh?” I ask as an image of Executor’s room projects against the wall.

“Vermeil’s almost got me out,” she calls out, “Ansel’s the one with the message. He needs to get to Executor.”

“Okie dokie,” I call out. I take a deep breath. I thrust my hands out and imagine myself grabbing Ansel by the collar. My hands simmer in blue and as I throw, Ansel disappears.  He’s probably throwing up in Executor’s office right now. The man gets arts sickness but he’s not infected at all. Odd how that is.

“You don’t do that on missions,” comments Sideroca as she tilts her head, her tail swishing about in idle curiosity.

“Well, I can still cast my arts without a PRTS unit. The PRTS unit amplifies my arts to the extent I don’t need to do physical actions,” I explain. 

“Oh right. Doctor, you’re really interesting. Well, how are we going to get to the office?” asks Sideroca.

“Run across,” I say as my drones come back to me and I spread my arms out towards her.

“What?”

"Ansel, Hibiscus and Myrrh have triggered most of the traps already,” I say as I scroll through the images on my emotivisor, “There’s two untriggered traps in the middle but if you take a step back and then dash forward, we should be able to avoid it.”

“What can’t you just work in the legal office?” she groans, “It’s nice and air conditioned and there’s a lovely kitchen there.”

“Because I don’t like the people there,” I pout with a “(◕︿◕)” on my visor. 

Sideroca sighs and hefts me over the shoulder. "Hold on tight Doctor,” she says as she takes a deep breath. She takes a few steps backwards and then runs forward. Sideroca is like the wind as she leaps and uses the imprints of the intern’s bodies in the traps as a foothold.  As we reach the door, a ball comes flying at us. Sideroca dodges but it hits my head.

All is black. 

The brown haired woman trembled a bit behind me. I held her hand tightly. A sharp mechanical tentacle slices my emotivisor off my face. “Oh don’t pretend you wouldn’t have done the same, if you weren’t the first to discover it,” I laughed, “You know you would have. And killing us won’t kill off the knowledge.”

“What have you done? Do you know what you have done? ” said the white haired feline, her ears bristled in anger, “What did you do to Amiya?” 

“You really like her don’t you? Don’t worry, it’s not permanent or anything. It’ll just make her stronger,” I said, “And it’s reversible although I wouldn’t if you want her to wear the crown. She’ll wear the crown you all seek.”

“You studied their religion for what? A few years? You were only baptised yesterday. And now you think you’re in a position to tell them what to believe? How to believe? The arrogance,” said the feline disdainfully. 

The white haired sarkaz woman stretched out her arm. “What are your demands?” she asked quietly.

“Let us access the sarcophagus,” I said, “Let us access it and we’ll call off Theresis.”