1y7m3w6d BV
Nest Room, Whitecrest Clan Enclave, Wi Kao, Gao
Kent
Kent stood at the door to the hall, hesitating. Unfortunately this door had its hinges on the other side and there was no way to bypass it. He stared at the doorknob. After a moment, he tentatively moved his paw towards it.
Finally, with his teeth gritted, he surged his paw forward and grasped it. Nothing happened. With a sigh of relief, he turned the knob, sending a shock into his paw. Yelping in pain, he jumped back, cursing loudly.
The four Officers frequently compared notes, sharing what they had learned about the various strategies and maneuvers favored by the stalker. Based on its speed and the temporal gaps between attacks, they were all but certain that the stalker was a single Gaoian. They were also fairly certain that it was not Ronovin himself. The attacks were too textbook, too consistent and, frankly, too gentle to be him.
After the first day, the stalker’s tactics changed. No longer were the ‘events’ purely an every hour, on the hour affair. If Kent had not kept in close contact with the other trainees, he would too have been taken by surprise by the abrupt change in tactics. The sharp jolt of one of those paste-balls hitting his neck only a few minutes after the previous attack did still startle him slightly, but with the illusion of a safe time window shattered, Kent found that the assailant simply didn’t bother him as much as he had during the first day of the exercise. Pain had simply become part of his life, not something to concern himself with. He had almost come to trust the assailant, as there was a certain meticulous elegance to his attacks. Each engagement seemed carefully planned to inflict only a very precise amount of pain.
On the second day, the stalker had also started using traps. Immediately after being struck in the paw by a surge of electric current as he reached for a glass of water, Garot contacted the others to report his location and the time of the attack. Confident that he had a few minutes, Kent had raced to the ablution chamber to finish before the stalker had time to interrupt. He had been rather surprised to find himself pounced as soon as he took a seat.
Most of the traps were simple electrified objects. Perhaps ‘simple’ wasn’t quite the correct term to use. Some of the trapped items would have taken a great deal of effort to properly create. Truly, it was rather impressive just what could be electrified with the proper nano-filaments. Garot had been the first one to bite into an electrified naxas steak, while Kent, himself, had the pleasure of being the first to suffer from an electrified dust bath. None of the Brothers could quite figure out how that had worked.
But today the exercise would come to an end. All he had to do was make it back to the training room after exactly three days had passed. The stalker was almost certain to not make the final leg of the trip easy.
Kent cautiously worked his way through the halls. He was just about there. What would it be? Probably another Keeda-damned door handle trap. He grasped the handle, flinching. No, nothing. With a shrug he entered the room… and immediately found himself at the wrong end of the firing range next to the other three Brothers. He glanced down at the floor. Stasis trap, that’s a new one.
Ronovin was standing at the correct end of the range, holding one of the modified pistols in each paw. “This exercise was to end as soon as you entered the training room. Unfortunately not one of you actually made it that far.” With a malicious grin, he opened fire.
One of the other Brothers immediately drew a pistol of his own and promptly returned fire. Ronovin, taken by surprise, dove for cover.
The Brother in question had close friends in the Human Investigation Division; He must have been snuck a copy of the device. It made sense, this had to be a human design. No Gaoian would have made something so Keeda-damned difficult to clean up.
One of the pistols was pressed into his paw by the Brother on his right. He glanced to the side; All four of them were now armed. All but certain that he would suffer Ronovin’s retaliation whether or not he joined in the festivities, Kent joined the charge against Ronovin’s position.
Green balls flew everywhere as the bunker rush commenced. While the initial volley was aimed at Ronovin, the Brothers quickly turned on each other. The initial few shots were probably accidental cases of friendly fire, but the follow-up shots certainly were not. The volleys of fire quickly subsided as each Gaoian fled to cover; None of them seemed interested in enduring sustained fire.
Ronovin, now caught in the middle of his trainee’s line of fire, winced as he rose to his hindpaws. He had been struck dozens of times. The thick paste ran down his fur and dripped to the ground as he inspected his coat.
A stray shot hit him in the snout. Ronovin turned to the Brother responsible, ears flattening as he bared his fangs in rage. Kent hurriedly hid behind his cover, not wanting to make himself the first target of Ronovin’s wrath.
It was then that he noticed the thoroughly exhausted Gaoian sitting on the stairs, Ronovin’s little cub. Well, not the whole cub, only his head was visible. What was he doing in a camouflage cloak? The realization came suddenly to Kent. How could he have been so stupid?
He had, of course, considered the possibility that the cub was the stalker, but had dismissed the idea as absurd. How could the stalker had been anything short of a hardened operative? The soft cub that had shown up at the practice room several weeks ago simply didn’t match the profile that he and the other Brothers had assembled.
But no Gaoian could possibly train with Ronovin and not toughen up. Taking a moment to consider, Kent did have to admit that the cub had improved greatly over the past month. There had even been a few of the ‘fair’ matches where he had almost had to stop toying with him to ensure victory. Unfortunately, this conclusion was only obvious in hindsight.
The cub rather obviously fit the profile: restraint, careful planning and far, far too many toys. His lack of paw to paw combat skills mattered little if the engagement never progressed that far. It was a shame that there had never been any close matches with the cub; all of them, instead, heavily favoring one side or the other. A balanced encounter would have made this connection far more obvious.
Kent quietly decided that little payback was in order. He carefully stalked towards the stairs, trying to remain unseen. The splotches of neon green on his coat likely did little to help him there, but he still got quite close before being noticed.
The cub yelped and tried to make a run for it, but Kent had been poised for the pounce. He quickly caught up and easily subdued the cub. Kent released him, and gestured back down the stairs. As an incentive, he held the pistol to the cub’s balls, a rather painful place to be hit, according to one of the others. Ears flat, the cub complied.
But, once at the bottom the the stairs, the cub threw up his hood and took off running. By instinct alone, Kent leveled his weapon at the aerial disturbance caused by the rapid motion. Several rapid shots rendered the cub somewhat less than invisible and forced him to the ground. Kent grinned as he glanced at each of his Brothers. “I found the stalker.”
Kent hadn’t even finished saying those words before he realized just how Keeda-damned stupid of an idea that had been. Even though Ronovin had apparently been willing to forgive some of his more ‘aggressive’ responses to the stalker earlier, this would not be overlooked. If attacking the stalker in defiance of the rules of engagement wasn’t bad enough already, the was Ronovin’s cub. Nobody messed with Ronovin’s cub without permission. Kent gulped; He was boned. Unfortunately, a couple of the other Brothers heard his proclamation and threw a few shots of their own at the fallen cub, further increasing the pain that was to come.
Hearing the distraught cub, Ronovin leapt up from where he had held one of the Brothers pinned. “You will stop now. You had your chance a week ago.” He pulled out a canister shaking it slowly. “Recognize this? Next Gaoian to shoot is spending the rest of the day in the infirmary.”
Kent did not, in fact, recognize the device, but Ronovin had access to human weapons. It was unlikely to be a pleasant experience, whatever it was. He stepped out from behind cover, setting his pistol aside and falling to the ground. “I comply, Brother.”
Each of the Brothers likewise came forward and surrendered. Glancing around the room, Ronovin snorted. “This exercise is now over. As far as I’m concerned, every one of you willfully violated the rules of this exercise. It will be run again. I will not be as merciful in the selection of the assailant next time. Now as for this.” He pointed down at his coat. “If you want to play with those pistols, so be it. None of you are to leave this room while I can still see the fur of your crest. Have fun.”
As Ronovin worked his way behind a transparent blast shield, collecting the cub along the way, he took a moment to stare despondently at each Brother in turn. Kent dropped his ears, crestfallen. His pride had been the cause of his team’s failure. Something would have to be done to atone for this, but what?
1y7m3w6d BV
Training range, Whitecrest Clan Enclave, Wi Kao, Gao
Ronovin
The Officers quickly discovered that attempting to complete their assigned task alone was quite possibly the worst solution available to them. It seems that at short range, the shots were even more painful; apparently something to do with air resistance. After a few minutes of deliberation, they decided on a strategy.
Garot stood on fourpaw at the far end of the range, snout to the ground with his ears pressed flat as tightly as he could manage. The other three stood at the furthest corner of the range, lobbing their projectiles across the room. They had to stop several times to reload the pistols from the bags of ammunition that Ronovin had set upon the table.
Ronovin turned to Milt. “Are you satisfied, Brother?”
Milt stood confused. “Satisfied with what?”
He waved his paw at the Brothers in the range. “Justice.”
Milt winced as a pained yelp was heard from the far end of the range. “But… I shot them first.”
“During the exercise? That was under my orders, under my authority. This.” He pointed at one of the marks on Milt’s cloak. “Was personal.”
Milt said nothing, staring blankly at the Brothers before duck-nodding subtly.
Ronovin returned the gesture and turned back to the range, his eyes settling on the increasingly depleted case of projectiles. “I think they’ll be needing more ammunition.”
He couldn’t simply leave, though. It would be far too easy for his cubs to simply scrape the paste off the floor in his absence. Perhaps send Milt? Hmm, what exactly was stored in that particular cabinet? Mostly training tools, nothing particularly dangerous or secretive. It should be fine. He pulled out his pad, granting Milt temporary access to his office and the indicated cabinet. “Milt, will you run to my office and grab a few more cases of ammunition?”
Milt simply nodded and departed.
Garot was called back to the group, as another one of the Brothers took his place downrange. The barrage had just resumed when Milt returned, steadying a loaded hovercart as it descended into the range. It seems that during his errand he had removed the cloak and replaced it with his heavy shield.
Curious, Ronovin growled softly to draw Milt’s attention. “Will that work, Brother?”
“I think so.” He held his paw out.
Ronovin handed over one of his pistols.
Milt aimed the pistol at his paw then, thinking better of it, re-aimed it at his chest and fired. The shield did stop it, but without something soft to cushion the impact, the ball splattered with small droplets covering everything, and everyone, nearby.
Milt glanced at his chest, satisfied with the results, before turning back to Ronovin. He flattened his ears in horror as the noticed the results of the ricochet. “I’m sorry, Ronovin, I di-”
“Milt, I thought I told ya that you are not allowed to be afraid of me anymore. Besides, I’ve got already got another fifty of those damned marks to deal with already. You could shoot me right now, and I wouldn’t care all that much.” He pant-grinned. “Unless you hit me in the balls or something.”
Milt tilted his head, then raised the pistol.
Ronovin perked an ear inquisitively. “Really?”
Milt chittered softly as he shook his head, handing the pistol back.
Each of the Brothers took a turn as the target at the far end of the range. The inherent inaccuracy of the pistols ensured that they were all thoroughly soaked by the end of the exercise.
Once they had inspected each other, confirming completion of their assigned task, they stopped and turned to face their instructor.
Ronovin emerged from behind the wall, bringing Milt with him. He inspected each Brother, satisfied that his requirements have been met.
Ronovin growled softly and he set a paw on the Milt’s shoulder. “Intentionally targeting an unarmed non-combatant. That is completely unacceptable. What if this had been a female? You are supposed to be conditioning your reactions. This is not the sort of unconscious response I want to see you develop.”
He took his time staring down each Brother in sequence. Garot stepped forwards, beckoning Milt over. Milt glanced at Ronovin before walking over to meet him. The Officer set a dripping paw on Milt’s shoulder, showing only a slight hint of surprise when that paw stopped just short of its destination. “I apologize, Brother. Here, it’s only fair that you have the opportunity to return the offense.”
Milt shook his head, refusing to accept the offered pistol. “That’s not necessary.”
Garot tilted his head as he moved his paw across Milt’s static field. “Does that shield work with these pistols?”
“It seems to.”
Garot raised his pistol slightly and perked an ear at Ronovin.
Ronovin snorted. “Ask him, he’s the one you intend to shoot. I don’t mind. It’ll just give the paint a little longer to set.”
Milt nodded and stepped directly in front of Garot as the other Brother gathered around. Knowing what came next, Ronovin quietly stepped back.
“Why don’t we do this right?” Milt asked. “This shield should be strong enough to stop sustained rapid fire from this form of low-impact projectile. Why don’t we test that? Just… please abort if the shield fails.”
After a few seconds of preparation, the Brothers lined up and opened fire. Ronovin chittered as the cloud of deflected droplets engulfed the Officers, lightly sprinkling their few remaining dry patches of fur. It took a few seconds for them to notice, and a few seconds more before a droplet to the eye and the resulting yelp brought the exercise to a halt.
Milt glanced back at Ronovin, just slightly cocking his head towards the blast shield. Ronovin slowly backed away, trying to remain unnoticed.
“You may want to close your eyes Brothers.” Milt suggested.
Kent immediately ducked under his forepaws and one of the other Brothers tried to run away. It wasn’t enough. With a quick pulse of the deflection kinetics, Milt’s shield was cleaned, and everything else, well, wasn’t.
Kent lowered his paws, grimly inspecting the damage. He sighed, flicking an annoyed ear towards Ronovin. “Are you sure he is still classified as a non-combatant?”
Ronovin emerged from behind the shield. “Yes. But I do believe that I have a resolution that will satisfy… All but one of the Brothers present.” He turned to Milt. “Set aside your shield, Brother, and anything else you do not wish to get involved. That’s an order, by the way.”
Milt hurriedly complied, in spite of the obvious twist of horror in his ears. Ronovin beckoned him back over, gently nudging him towards the center of the group. He pant-grinned sadistically. “Cubs play pounce.”
Milt panicked and tried to run. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. The initial few pounces were fast and brutal, but this quickly gave way to a much more playful engagement. Soon enough, the Brothers were taking turns smothering Milt in green-colored affection. While their intentions were… not entirely noble, the results were still the same; Transgression forgiveness and reconciliation. Ronovin chittered softly as Kent brushed his head against a not-yet-covered section of Milt’s coat. With a flick of his ear, Ronovin jumped into the melee.
He allowed the chittering pile of Brothers a few more minutes of fun before he stood and addressed the group.
“We’re not quite done here. There is still one more issue to address. Now I’m not mad at you for firing back at me. My engagement was not part of the stated parameters of the previous exercise and was clearly a hostile act. But, as your instructor, I can not tolerate that form of insubordination. As far as I’m concerned, one quick lap of the enclave and your little act of defiance will be forgiven.” He glanced at the concerned looks. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we stop for a few minutes in view of the female commune.”
Ronovin grinned and pulled out a datapad. “Hello, Sister… Yes, Officer Ronovin of Whitecrest.” Technically he still held the rank of Officer, and the females would likely find his current position less than endearing. “I wish to inform you that there will be a demonstration on the east lawn of our Clanhouse in a few minutes, if any of your sisters care to watch… No, thank you Sister.”
He turned back to the mortified trainees. “Won’t this be fun?”
Before they left, the Brothers pulled Milt into a hushed discussion that Ronovin pretended not to overhear.
Whitecrest was known for not being known. The Brothers decided to play the paint off as some sort of training aid. After all, what Sister would disapprove of such ‘dedication’ to… whatever it was that they were obviously not at liberty to discuss? After a few more details were worked out, the Gaoians headed outside.
East lawn, Whitecrest Clan Enclave, Wi Kao, Gao
Milt
Ronovin led the other five Operatives on a march through the enclave, their path taking them along many of the compound’s busier walkways. Nearly all other Gaoians moved aside as they approached, yielding the path to the Brothers. There were plenty of curious stares and hushed whispers, but nearly everyone they came upon acted as if half a dozen soaking, green Gaoians was not a sight worthy of ridicule.
Milt gently batted Kent’s shoulder to draw his attention. “I don’t understand. Why is no one mocking us?”
Kent chittered. “Tell me Milt, who would be dumb enough to try something like that?”
That was a point that Milt had not considered. He had spent so much time around the Brothers that he no longer felt the menacing presence that they tended to exude. A presence that was clearly still present and felt by most of the other Gaoians nearby.
A thought struck Milt, as he scanned the passers-by. He studied their reactions, trying to discern just what they were looking at. Were they intimidated by the group as a whole, or one of the Brothers independent of the rest? Finding at least a few marks that met the latter criteria, he then searched for Gaoians that studied him specifically. He was surprised to find several beings that fit that description. Sure, most of them were Brothers that he knew personally, but not all the Gaoians that studied him were in that group. It quickly became apparent that there were people out there that feared him.
That was not a comforting realization. Milt had never sought to be feared, he simply wanted to be strong enough to protect those who required aid… Was an intimidating presence simply an inevitable side effect of working towards that goal?
A pair of Brothers that had trained with Milt in the first ring walked by. Milt gave them a little wave. They turned to each other, talking in hushed whispers, glancing at him every few seconds. Milt stepped out of formation to meet them but, upon seeing him approach, they bolted away. With a sigh, Milt rejoined the procession.
Eventually they made it to their destination, an open field between the Whitecrest Enclave and a local Female Commune.
Ronovin stopped. “Alright cubs, have at it.” He then wandered off a short distance to watch.
The Brothers’ planned exhibition started immediately, with each of them picking a target to pounce. Soon, they were throwing each other across the field. Milt stood confused for a moment, before Garot grabbed ahold of him and shoved him towards one of the other Brothers. “Get in there, Milt. Throw someone!”
So Milt did. At least, he tried to. He pounced the nearest Brother, who unexpectedly collapsed as Milt landed on him. The Brother twisted as he landed, using the momentum from his fall to fling Milt away, back onto his paws.
“Yeah, just like that. Keep going, Brother.”
With a confused shrug, Milt again leapt into the fray.
It seemed that his Brothers were Keeda-damned proficient at this theatrical form of combat. Rather than trying to win, each maneuver was designed to appear impressive to the bystanders. The engagements focused on acrobatic flips and pounces, along with graceful recoveries. His Brothers guided him along, covertly helping him with some of the more intricate maneuvers. Milt wasn’t sure what surprised him more; His Brothers’ willingness to aid him, or how Keeda-damned alive he felt soaring through the air without landing on his face.
While, sure, he would rather have not stood in front of several dozen females covered in paint, it seems his earlier fears of embarrassment were not entirely warranted. He had even managed to catch the eye of a few of them. Rather than being repulsed by the sorry state of his coat, they seemed impressed by what he still considered to be a rather inelegant display of athletics.
The event concluded nearly as abruptly as they had begun. The five of them lined up to face the females, bowed their heads, then retreated to join Ronovin. He had refrained from joining in the performance, perhaps trying to appear refined or dignified. How he thought he could pull off that looking like that was a question Milt could not answer.
The next thing he remembered was walking headfirst into Kent, who somehow managed to catch him before he could fall to the ground; He must be even more tired than he thought.
Ronovin approached, setting a paw on his shoulder. “You’ll have time to rest soon, cub. Just a little bit longer.” He threw an appreciative flick of an ear at Kent, then put his shoulder under Milt’s forelimb, hauling the bulk of Milt’s weight. Dragging Milt along, Ronovin led the Brothers to a secluded courtyard. After they had left the view of the outside world, Ronovin called a halt. He set Milt down against a nearby wall. “Don’t fall asleep just yet, Brother.” He then turned to the trainees. “So, any ideas on how to get this stuff off?”
A few of the Brothers chittered. Garot teasingly flicked a small glob at Milt with a playful grin. “I may have a few ideas.”
1y7m3w6d BV
Grrttlk’klk’s Salvage Yard, Lagrange locked asteroid, Capula system
Grrttlk’klk
Grrttlk’klk was surprised by the sophonts that arrived at his scrapyard; He didn’t like surprises.
They arrived on the unusually named Scar Chaser, a smallish ship with several other smaller craft attached to it. It pulled into his yard, setting itself down manually with far more grace than should be possible for such a disaster of a vessel. As soon as the vessel landed, one of the modules affixed to the top disengaged and landed beside it. Curious, but still not unusual enough to be the cause of significant concern.
What troubled him were the ship’s occupants. A Gaoian and another being he could not identify had emptied out of the main ship and approached him. In recent months, Grrttlk’klk had learned how to deal with unruly Gaoians; He had to if he wanted to avoid being robbed again. But the being with the Gaoian… If she meant trouble… Well, ideally, she did not.
Cautiously, he addressed them. “Hello, gentlebeings, what do you require from me?”
The two customers shared a wordless glance at each other, then, surprisingly, the female spoke through an external translator. “We’re looking to sell this ship.” She pointed at the recently dismounted vessel. “And use the funds to purchase some raw materials.”
Grrttlk’klk shook his shoulders. “What is the condition of the ship?”
“Recently refurbished and fully functional.”
“Hmm.” Grrttlk’klk walked over to inspect the vessel. The non-Gaoian followed him, unlocking the ship to allow access. He inspected a few key structural locations on the ship, then spent a few minutes studying the ship’s diagnostics. “Whoever rebuilt this vessel didn’t accurately restore it to factory condition, but all relevant functionality meets specifications.” In truth, a surprising subset of the systems were performing above specifications. “I’m prepared to offer you this.” He sent a figure to the two customer’s datapads.
The Gaoian outwardly expressed his outrage. “This ship is worth a lot more than that! The reactor alone is-”
Grrttlk’klk stepped back, preparing to draw his pistol. But the female had already grasped the Gaoian’s muzzle and pulled him back. After another unreadable glance between them, the Gaoian relented.
“Are you sure that’s the best you can offer?” The female asked.
Obviously, it wasn’t. “I run a salvage yard here. I don’t sell ships. This vessel will take significant effort to liquidate.”
“Well, we are looking to purchase from you. How much would you be willing to offer in store credit?”
Grrttlk’klk studied her. “What do you mean by ‘store credit’?”
“Store credit. Instead of paying us, you simply provide us with the materials that you are trying to sell anyways. It costs you a lot less than if you had to pay cash.”
Grrttlk’klk thought through this. Did she have that explanation rehearsed? The idea of such an answer simply being constructed as it was spoken… wait, no, that wasn’t the important part of the conversation.
He pondered a little longer. It was an unusual offer, to be sure, but the transaction suggested could prove beneficial. If he could acquire the ship at no cost… “Very well. I’d be willing to offer, hmm, two and a half times that amount worth of full-priced goods from my yards.”
The two customers again held a silent conversation with their eyes and ears alone. The Gaoian finally lowered his ears and ducked down. It seems that the female had won that debate. She turned back to him. “Here’s what we need.”
1y7m3w5d BV
Ronovin’s office, Whitecrest Clan Enclave, Wi Kao, Gao
Milt
“Thanks for coming, cub. Let me get right down to it. Why are you still scared of me? I’m pretty sure I ain’t done nothing to hurt you since we got back from the Crimson Oasis.”
Milt glanced around. “Is this one of those times that I’m supposed to speak freely?”
“Keeda’s balls, Milt, yes. This is just a talk between friends.”
Milt growled slightly. “Friends? Is that why keep throwing your Officers at me?”
Ronovin perked an ear. “Is that your concern?” He snorted. “You can walk out of here at any time. You asked for this, Milt. I told you it would be tough. And you know what? It hasn’t been.”
“You don’t think I’ve been struggling here?”
“Of course you have. But I’ve been very careful, almost too careful with controlling exactly how far I’ve been pushing you. Milt, I’ve taken great care in making sure I never let you see the truly brutal parts of the training process. My cubs suffer hard, and I don’t want to burden anyone with the knowledge of just what that entails.”
Milt hung his head as he thought. “I’ve been a burden, then. I’ve taken time away from your other students.”
Ronovin stopped for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, his face hardened and he turned to address Milt once more. “The galaxy is changing, Milt. When the humans climb out of their hole, they’ll break everything. We won’t be ready, we can’t be ready. The only thing we can do is to learn how to adapt.
“Let me tell you a secret, Brother. A secret that I ain’t told anyone else.” He paused a moment. “I’m not ready for that kind of change. Sure, I can see a new toy and figure out how to play with it, but I can’t take a missing toy and figure out how it should work. I definitely don’t know how to teach new cubs how to discover the idea of finding new fields of operations.” He sighed and plopped down on his seat. “I’m just doing the best I can, Brother. Exposure to novelty is the best idea I’ve come up with to prepare for the future. It’s why I brought in Chuck as soon as I found him.” He glanced at Milt. “And why I’m glad that I found you.” He tilted his head. “I gotta say, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by your little tinkering projects.”
Milt duck-nodded sadly. “So you need my tools. Other than that, I’m just target practice.”
Ronovin looked puzzled. “That’s not right at all. Hmm, how should I say this… Before Chuck came along, I’d stagnated. I could best any Gaoian that had the time and willingness to train with me. You can’t learn anything if you never find anything that can challenge you. You can’t see how much you have improved if you never lose. Until I can find another challenge to overcome, the only thing I can do is teach what I know and hope that one of my cubs discovers a better path.”
Milt was confused. “You were afraid that I would grow overconfident by winning only grossly unfair fights?”
Ronovin pulled his ears back as he pondered the question. “When you put it that way, it… hmm.” He drummed his paws on the chair. “It’s true, you were not the only beneficiary in those engagements. I suppose it could be seen as a bit gratuitous, but every once in a while, even hardened operatives need to run free. If I never gave the cubs a chance to play around with you every once in a while, there is no question in my mind that they would have learned to resent the little cub that bested them time and time again. Trust me, you do not want to have a team of assassins that hate you.”
Ronovin got out of his chair, walked over, and carefully pulled Milt to the ground. “But look at what that bought you. Playing with toys, sparring with the best.” He chittered softly. “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy pummeling the snot out of them.”
Milt relaxed a bit. “I’ll admit, it often was fun but-” He sighed and shook his head. “Those engagements hurt them. I know it.”
“Learning to cope with the necessary suffering of others is one of your challenges. Enduring it was one of theirs. That’s just the kinda thing that happens when you have mixed discipline training.”
Milt curled up next to Ronovin. He toyed back and forth with whether or not he should voice the concern that still bothered him. “What about Crimson Oasis? Was that supposed to be some sort of training too?”
Ronovin tilted his head. “What, that?” He ran a paw against one of the scars he had inflicted. “No, Like I told you, I fucked up, and I am sorry. If you need something more sentimental than that, you’ll have to go find a female to talk to.” He cocked his head slyly. “Perhaps one of the ones eyeing you yesterday. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Milt was still caught up on the first part of Ronovin’s comments. “You never apologized before.”
“I didn’t? Hmm. Well, even if I didn’t earlier, now I have.”
Milt lay back against Ronovin, purring softly.
Ronovin, sat up abruptly. “Really? That’s what you’ve been worried about?”
Milt nuzzled Ronovin. “If someone like you is willing to apologize to someone like me…” He trailed off as he rested his head against Ronovin’s chest.
Ronovin chittered as he ruffled Milt’s crest. “Someone like you… Don’t sell yourself short, cub. You’re probably never gonna be a Special Operative, and that’s fine. But, you’ve still built up an impressive skill set here.”
“I… no, I don’t think so.”
“Oh come on. That hostile environment engagement exercise was your Keeda-damned capstone project, and you fucking aced it. You tell me right now that you could have done that two months ago.”
“I suppose not…”
Ronovin grunted. “Alright I think a demonstration is in order. You and me, we’re going hunting. You have two days to get your gear ready, infiltration and assault.”