Chapter One: Lost In A Crowd
It's been forever since I've been writing, so I thought I'd get back into the swing of things with a Lunar Chronicles fic. Fallen into a fairytale phase lately.
I might have put posting this off for a while, but for two reasons: a) I wanted to be finished this multi-chaptered story before Wires and Nerve comes out, and b) it's much less likely I'll mothball a project if it's already online.
Also, the packs fascinated me. I wondered what it was that made Wolf/Ze'ev so special that he was the only one who didn't want to be there, and I came to the conclusion that he probably was just the only one with the chance to leave. That in mind, I was interested in developing the characters more.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs.
Still woozy from the vicious kick Alpha Brock had delivered to his ribs, Ze'ev stumbled into line. The lunar soldiers, other than Brock, didn't glance at him. They stared rigidly ahead, fists clenched to their hearts.
"You will soon learn that your placement in this pack is determined by strength, courage, and the ability to defend yourself," Master Jael said, his eyes on Ze'ev. "You will not see such mercy again."
Ze'ev averted his gaze, hoping that was what the thaumaturge wanted. Focused on a spot over Jael's shoulder, he nodded once. He felt that he needed to do more and copied the gesture the other pack members used, placing a hand over his heart. Judging from the half smile Jael wore, it was an acceptable reaction.
"I trust you will teach your new brother how we train here," Jael said lightly.
"Yes, sir." The cry was unanimous throughout the pack.
"Good. I will leave you to become acquainted. Training commences at oh-six-hundred tomorrow." Without another word Jael turned on his heel and walked off.
Ze'ev stayed at attention, his eyes flicking to the side to see if any of the others were moving. He noticed that no-one broke from their position until Brock did – who didn't shift until the scent (and Ze'ev was still shocked that he was able to smell distance) of Jael disappeared.
Then, continuing to follow the alpha's lead, everyone started crowding around Ze'ev.
"So. Teach you," Brock growled. He bent over slightly to look closer at Ze'ev, his face inches away from Z's. "Lesson number one is to always obey Master Jael. If Jael's not here, then you listen to me, got it?"
Ze'ev swallowed, and then nodded. The stinging in his ribs seemed to intensify. "Got it."
"Good," Brock stepped back.
"Welcome to the pack, Beta Kesley," one of the other pack members said cheerfully. He grinned. Ze'ev hoped it was just the tooth implants that made it look menacing. "Being here doesn't get any better."
"Lobo, hush," another operative said dismissively. "It won't take long for him to know the basic rules."
"Maybe we should start with the names, Beta Tsukino?" said a third operative. He folded his arms. "I'm Beta Gibbous Troya. This is Beta Masaru Tsukino, Beta Vanya Volkov, Beta Alex Rafe, Beta José Lobo, Beta Tristan Wynn, Beta Eclipse Garson, Beta Wane Becke, Beta Huang Liu, Beta Rille Baines, Beta Emil Katona, and Omega Aziz Sherazi. And you've already met Alpha Crater Brock."
The names blurred together. Ze'ev blinked, trying to remember any of them, let alone to whom each name belonged.
"Beta Aziz Sherazi," the smallest boy in the pack snapped furiously. He was at least an inch shorter than Ze'ev although he looked to be at least fourteen. "It's Omega Katona."
"Oh?" Gibbous Troya asked, almost bored. "When did that happen?"
"About two hours ago," one of the other members said. Ze'ev tried to remember his name but couldn't. "It wasn't one of their more interesting fights."
"Still, two weeks as a beta is probably Emil's record, isn't it?" Someone (Vanya something, Ze'ev thought) asked. He clapped another pack member (Katona?) on the shoulder. "Congratulations."
The operative growled, shifting slightly to free his shoulder. Vanya shrugged.
"Katona and Sherazi are always switching who's Omega," another operative quietly informed Ze'ev.
"What's Omega?" Ze'ev asked him, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Apparently he wasn't quiet enough. Everyone glanced at him, and there were a couple of derisive snorts from the pack.
The operative Ze'ev was talking to didn't change expression, but kept smiling kindly. "Omega is the opposite of Alpha. Bottom status."
"You have to fight for your place around here," the Beta that Ze'ev thought was José Lobo said. "Lesson number three is avoid being Omega. They're the weakest." Lobo smirked at Omega Katona, who bristled but held back.
Alpha Brock grunted. "Whatever. We should start training." He glanced at Ze'ev. "After all, we need our newest member to be up to scratch before Jael comes back."
Ze'ev hesitated. He wasn't sure if he would be safest to obediently follow or not. Defiance seemed foolish, but there was a new instinct twisting his stomach, refusing to let him grovel.
After a moment Ze'ev lifted his head higher, meeting Brock's gaze. "Okay," he said, straight backed and trying not to let his voice waver. "Where do I start?"
He was delighted to notice Brock's smirk turned into a slight smile.
He was cold, he was hungry, he was exhausted, and he was almost certain Brock had broken one of his ribs. Still, Ze'ev refused to complain as Brock led the pack through the training course.
They climbed monkey bars, sprinted along tracks, and mutilated punching bags. Despite his best efforts, Ze'ev constantly fell behind. Everyone else was stronger, faster, and quite simply knew what they were doing. Nevertheless, Ze'ev kept going.
Finally, finally, Brock called a halt. Ze'ev sunk to the ground, gasping for air.
He was discouraged to notice that everyone else seemed fine. Several of the pack were breathing heavily, but most were simply relaxing. Alpha Brock didn't seem to have even broken a sweat.
"Doing okay?" The relatively-kind operative that had explained about omegas asked, crouching next to him. Ze'ev guessed him to be about thirteen or fourteen years old, not too much older than him.
"I'm… I'm fine," Ze'ev panted, despite his genuine fear he might cough out a lung.
"You did pretty well for your first time," the beta said. "Don't worry. It'll get easier by the time we start doing the hard stuff."
"The what stuff?"
"Half of the modifications won't be noticeable for another few weeks," the operative continued. "Once your body catches up to the science you'll be better at this."
Ze'ev was dreading more of the wolfish abilities to come up, turning him into more of a soldier and less of a boy. Still, he wouldn't have mentioned it even if he had enough breath to do so.
It was encouraging that the other operatives looked mostly human. Other than deadly sharp teeth, Ze'ev couldn't pick out anything that was too close to the monsters he'd seen on the hologram. He had noticed changes to his own body, but changes didn't mean inhuman.
"I'm Eclipse." The operative held out a hand. "Beta Eclipse Garson."
"Ze'ev Kesley." Ze'ev took the hand and allowed himself to be helped up.
"Nice to meet you, Beta Kesley." Eclipse shook the hand he was still holding, and then dropped it abruptly. His nose twitched.
The other pack members were all getting up, looking around eagerly. Betas Sherazi and Troya were both sniffing the air. Ze'ev copied them, trying to tell what they were all sensing.
Meat. Blood. Something that made his stomach claw.
There was a gentle ding noise as a bell rang. And suddenly the training area was a stampede as five hundred lupine operatives raced for the dining hall.
Ze'ev stumbled backwards. His hunger forgotten, the new soldier desperately prioritised not getting crushed in the rush to get food.
An arm reached out and wrapped around his shoulder, tugging him against someone's body. Ze'ev didn't resist, pressing himself away from the crowd.
Within moments the training grounds were clear. Ze'ev pulled himself away from Beta Vanya Volkov.
"Thanks," Ze'ev muttered.
"Don't mention it," Vanya said flippantly. "The surgeries are expensive – Jael would be furious if we got you trampled on the first day."
"Is it always like this?" Ze'ev asked him.
"Well, everyone's always hungry around here." Vanya grinned at him. "Come on, let's go before all the good food is taken."
Vanya started off at a light jog. Ze'ev followed him.
He was just beginning to think that being a part of the Queen's special army might not be a complete tragedy when he walked into the dining hall.
The noise was deafening. The hall itself must have been soundproofed, as the voices he'd heard did not prepare him for the cacophony of boasts, threats, and howls that assaulted him the moment he walked in. Tables upon tables were filled with operatives, each snatching for the choicest pieces of meat available. Ze'ev could see no less than a dozen physical brawls throughout the building. The taste of blood and sweat filled the air, and Ze'ev didn't understand his new senses well enough to recognise how much of the blood was from the meal.
Beta Vanya Volkov was unfazed, heading through the mayhem easily. Ze'ev hurried to follow him, sidestepping a fistfight of two operatives from another pack.
The two found the table headed by Alpha Brock easily. Ze'ev watched in terror as Beta Gibbous Troya lunged for the meat in front of Alpha Brock. Brock threw his challenger onto the ground, a solid left hook thudding into the beta's stomach. With a growl that was almost inaudible amongst the rest of the chaos, Troya leapt back against the alpha.
Ze'ev glanced around desperately, and saw Vanya had gone straight for a piece of meat in the middle of the table. Beta Becke had been reaching for the same piece, but when he saw Vanya reaching Beta Becke chose another steak.
Beta Aziz Sherazi had climbed entirely onto the table. His nose was bleeding heavily, but he still kept moving for a good quality piece of meat. Meanwhile, Beta Wynn had already thrown Beta Baines over the table entirely. Baines got up off the floor with a wince, holding his arm tight to his body.
Ze'ev quietly took a seat at the end of the table. He was relieved to note that not everyone had gotten involved in the free-for-all: Eclipse Garson was scavenging whatever he could get without resorting to violence, Beta Becke was calmly and methodically picking at anything left behind, and Omega Katona had seated himself as far away from the bloodbath as he could.
Snatching a small piece of meat that was passed over by Beta Huang Liu (or at least, Ze'ev was fairly sure that was his name), Ze'ev gnawed on his tiny meal and tried not to think about what the rest of his future would hold.
The barracks were hardly luxurious, and the moment the pack stepped inside Ze'ev picked up on the metallic scent of blood that he was alarmingly familiar with. However, the rooms were at least somewhat soundproofed, and the reduction from five hundred to thirteen voices gave his overstimulated hearing a rest.
There were fifteen beds across the room in two rows, seven beds above and eight below. A small series of closets were against the back wall, and a door led off to a communal bathroom.
Beta Gibbous Troya headed over to Ze'ev as soon as the new member walked inside.
"We've got two beds spare," Gibbous said calmly, pointing out one top bunk and another bottom bunk across the room. "If you don't want either of those, you're welcome to fight someone for theirs."
"Seriously?" The question came out a little higher than Ze'ev had intended.
"Well, yeah."
"I wouldn't bother," Beta José Lobo advised him. José was lying on his bed, rolled over to watch the recruit. "They're all the same. Top bunks are just a pain to climb onto after a bad day, and bottom bunks mean you can get stepped on. The only one whose got a better bed is Alpha Brock."
José pointed at the bed nearest the door. It was the eighth bed across the bottom row, without one directly above. Brock was sitting on it, watching the conversation with a cocky smirk.
"And no offense newbie," Lobo added, "but he's alpha for a reason. You're not going to beat him, and definitely not on your first night."
Ze'ev nodded weakly. He chose the empty bottom bunk that Gibbous had suggested. It was underneath Beta Baines, who barely glanced over as Ze'ev sat.
"I think they might have got you some clothes," Beta Eclipse Garson said, heading over to the closets. There were fifteen boxes set in the walls, along with a space for formal uniforms to hang and a shoe closet.
Eclipse tugged out one of the boxes and checked the label. "Yep, they did. Here." He tossed over the sleepwear included. Ze'ev caught them with a mumbled thanks.
All around him, the other pack members were stripping off their dirty clothes, stained from the day. Beta Gibbous Troya was somewhat reluctant, ducking into the bathroom to get changed. No-one else seemed modest.
Ze'ev tried not to stare at the scars that spread across each of them. Some wounds were new, bright purple bruises that had swelled up in the past few hours, and others were year old scars that had faded as much as they ever would.
The filthy clothes were all tossed into a small basket. Ze'ev copied them, changing into the unfamiliar pyjamas, and then crawled into his new bed.
Alpha Brock turned the light off. The noise drastically reduced, but Ze'ev could still hear everything.
Someone that he thought might be Beta Wynn was already asleep. Ze'ev knew that the heavy breathing came from the top bunk, third on the right, and from the smell alone he could tell that it was the operative with red hair: he wasn't sure that his name was Wynn.
Likewise, Ze'ev wasn't entirely sure if the person who let out a soft whimper with every breath was Beta Becke or Beta Rafe, but he knew it was the boy not too much older than him who had gotten into a fight with the big Beta Tsukino.
Eclipse Garson was talking quietly. Ze'ev could see the other boy kneeling before his bed as he murmured something that Z couldn't quite pick out amongst all the sounds.
Ze'ev rolled over, not enjoying the noise. Ran probably wasn't any quieter than the new roommates, but even without the bigger numbers, back then Ze'ev couldn't hear every breath in the room.
He'd also been able to sense his brother's bioelectricity. Sometimes he could even pick up on where in the house his parents were. Every other sense had moved from telling him there were roommates to screaming it at him, but his Lunar gift was a blank slate. It felt almost like the other operatives weren't real. Ze'ev wondered if this was what it was like to meet a shell.
It had been over a month since he'd shared his room with Ran; Ze'ev had been unconscious for most of that time and it felt like only a few nights. He'd been gone for minutes and it had been an eternity.
Every part of his body stung, from the rigorous exercise to Brock's beating to the surgeries he'd woken up from hours ago.
Exhausted and homesick, Ze'ev drifted into sleep.
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