Loyalties

By Afalstein

The Earth swiftly grew outside the porthole, its gentle glow lighting the face of the girl who looked out at it. She so rarely had enough time to really appreciate its beauty, so it seemed new even though she saw it every day. The girl brushed back blonde bangs from her eyes to look out.

"Sir?" A broad Irish brogue called her from her thoughts. "We got an ETA of about 5 minutes."

Numbuh 362 roused herself and turned from the window. "Affirmative, Numbuh 86." She studied the girl piloting the COOL-BUS. "Are you all right, Fanny? You haven't said a word all trip."

The redhead laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, sir, it's just… ah… the whole business o' choosing a replacement for me old job… it's… it's a wee strange, you know?"

"Yes, Fanny." 362 turned back to the window. "It's strange."

Strange indeed. Fanny had held the position for longer than any previous head, since she had first been appointed by Numbuh 100 after the former head had been promoted to Director of Brumbleberry Distribution. Under her control, the Decommissioning squad had grown into an elite, hard-bitten team which she had led with an unprecedented zeal and fury. Numbuh 86 had become her own slice of history, if only for being the most hated operative in the history of KND.

Rachel, Soopreme Leader of KND sighed and leaned against the porthole. Already she was receiving hundreds of complaints from KND sectors of Fanny's behavior as Global Tactical Commander. By rights, she shouldn't have been promoted for another three months or so, and in any case, Rachel should have known better than to give her such a crucial position. But her first choice had proven impossible, and the post could certainly not go much longer open.

Politics were so exasperating, with all the double-dealing and back-stabbing. She would have to think of some reason to keep 86 at the moon base in the future, while she left to deal with crisises.

A cough recalled her again. "Um, sir?"

"Yes, Numbuh 86?" 362 responded, still looking out the window.

"I was just wonderin'… with all the things goin' on and so… why did you ask me to come along on this selection procedure? It seems like Numbuh 65.3 would be better suited to know protocols and stuff like that…"

362 nodded. "Numbuh 65.3 briefed me on the general requirements before we left moon base. That's not the crucial consideration in these things."

"Sir?" The question was evident in 86's voice.

362 sighed and faced her friend. "Of all the different officers in the KND, the head of decommissioning is the most necessary. He—or she" she added, noting the sudden glare. "is responsible for making safe the future of KND. It is his—her job to make certain that no one is left to be a threat to the KND. She bears the burden of fighting against everyone: friends, family—even superior officers." 362 glanced down a moment. "Therefore, the head of decommissioning must always be a touch… rogue. She cannot be completely obedient to the rules, she cannot completely respect the established head, and most importantly, she cannot have any loyalty to any particular individual."

Numbuh 86 nodded, eyes still ahead, guiding the descent. "Ah see. Still… why are ya bringing me along to help?"

"Because we can't follow the rules here." 362 answered. "The only thing we can rely on is personal experience. As the former head, you are the person most suited to advise me on who is to succeed you."

86 was silent a moment. Then, "Sir?"

"Yes, Fanny?" 362 rubbed her eyes.

"Why did you promote me to Global Tactical Commander?" 86 risked a glance back. "I mean, I know it was open and all, and I'm grateful to you…"

"Yes, Fanny?" Numbuh 362 replied a bit sharply.

"Well…" Fanny stammered a moment. "I'm just wonderin' why you decided to give me your old job all of a sudden. It's a necessary command, I know, but until the whole thing with Numbuh ZERO, you always kinda took it on as part of being Soopreme Leader."

There was no immediate reply, and 86 kept right on. "I'm just wonderin' why you suddenly decided to promote me to a position that's been open since you became leader of the Kids Next Door."

Numbuh 362 rubbed her chin silently, considering how to answer the question. "The broccoli incident." She replied finally. "It convinced me I couldn't handle both jobs by myself. I needed someone I could trust to help me."

"Then why were you gonna give it to that BOY?" The distaste in 86's voice could almost be felt.

Rachel, the Soopreme Leader of the Kids Next Door, made no answer.

Air cadets and landing officials scrambled about on the landing pad as the yellow school bus coasted to a landing. Guards lined up on either side and drew themselves stiffly to attention. A robust boy clad in full artic gear with spiky black hair poking from a small round cap walked up the central aisle and waited as the honor guard disgorged from the craft and formed their own line. Finally, out stepped 362, Numbuh 86 at her side.

The boy saluted. "Numbuh 60 reportin' for duty, sir!"

"At ease." 362 gave a short nod.

60's arm came down and he relaxed. "Welcome to the Artic Trainin' Facility, Miss Soopreme Leader sir! We're very proud to have you here!"

"I said at ease, Patton." 362 glared at him with a small smirk. "That means dispense with the formalities."

Patton, head sergeant of the Artic Base, grinned back. "Sorry, ma'am, but you know here at the recruitment center we need to keep a close eye on protocol. Cadets are watchin' and we don't want to confuse any of 'em."

"Understood." 362 nodded. She leaned forward, her voice sunk confidentially. "You are aware of our purpose here?"

60 nodded, replying in the same low tone. "Quite so. I've given to the other sergeants to understand you're here on a routine checkup of the facility. Trainin' exercises will commence as usual."

"Excellent" 362 muttered, moving past 60 and heading toward the elevator. "The last thing I need is a bunch of papers being pushed my way of everyone's favorite for the job."

60 and 86 fell into step behind her, with a short nod of familiarity to the other. "What is the status report of the base, Numbuh 60?" 362 asked, making certain her voice could be heard by the surrounding guards.

"Sir!" Patton was immediately all business. "Kids next Door Artic prison secure and at two-fifths of capacity, sir! Kids Next Door trainin' facility fully operational and currently undergoin' level five of training maneuvers, sir! Cadets in final training procedures on sub-floor seven, sir! Perimeter security established to a length of…"

"That will do, Numbuh 60." 362 cut him off. "I think I'll take a look at the potential operatives on floor seven."

"Yes sir!"

The trio entered the elevator and Patton entered the code. As the doors closed, 362 breathed a sigh of relief.

"So much for that. What do you think, Fanny? Convincing enough?"

"Ah'm wonderin' why we have all this fuss." 86 wrinkled her brow in puzzlement. "Ah can't remember Numbuh 100 going through all this when he selected me. 'Course I was an unusual one, I suppose…"

"More likely," Numbuh 60 spoke up. "you don't remember because they did it secretly, without you noticing."

"Ah suppose so." Fanny frowned. "Still, it seems a wee bit strange."

The ding of the elevator warned them of the opening of the doors, and the three officers stepped out onto a wide balcony. Two guards at the entrance saluted, but aside from that the platform was bare. 362 strode quickly over to the far edge, followed by her assistants.

"Now to business." 362 bent over the railing, carefully studying the recruits training below. "Do you have any recommendations, Numbuh 60?"

"Cadet Mushi, sir." Patton replied, still stiffly at attention.

"Numbuh 3's Sister?!" Numbuh 86 turned on him. "That girl's more of an airhead than her sister is! She can't handle the rigors o' the Decommissioning office! Mind you, she is a girl and all, but even so…"

"At ease, Numbuh 86." 362 turned around. "Numbuh 60, I must likewise question the reasoning behind your choice. Mushi seems ill-suited for such a role as we are contemplating."

Numbuh 60 nodded curtly. "I am aware that she gives that impression, but Cadet Mushi, like her sister, is not all she appears. If you will remember, during the Cree incident, she displayed remarkable ability in acting and manipulation techniques." Numbuh 60 took a folder from behind his back and handed it over to 362, who began paging through it. "Likewise, in her time here, I have observed multiple instances where she has shown a frighteningly cynical outlook. She has coerced several cadets here into allowing her to beat them in basic training, and a few of the drill corporals have been manipulated into allowing her to skip morning routines." Numbuh 60 allowed a small grin to spread across his face. 'These are no accidents, sir. Each one of these incidents is the result of carefully planned acting and psychology."

362 cocked an eyebrow at the veteran. "You have been observing her regularly?"

"She tried to get better quarters on her first day here." Patton smiled grimly. "She almost got them."

"Hmmm." 362 returned her attention to the folder. "Still, she seems to be a trifle… detached from reality. Also, she has a dubious connection with King Sandy, a former opponent of KND."

"Sandy's still a kid." 60 pointed out. "And he and his cousins are now members of the KND—through Mushi's influence."

"Not all children are kids." 362 muttered, still deep in the folder. "and not all kids are good KND operatives. Sandy could cause problems later on."

"I don't think that'll pose a serious threat." 60 rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It don't seem to be a very deep connection."

"That's good." Numbuh 86 spoke up from the rear. "The decommissioning officer can't have too many connections." She bent her head. "It makes the job too hard."

The other two officers studied her a moment. 362 broke the silence. "Have Mushi brought up here. I'll speak with her briefly, and tomorrow she'll begin officer training with the other candidates. We'll see what happens from there."

"Very good, sir." 60 took the folder, saluted and marched off, signaling a nearby orderly to follow him.

86 and 362 were left to stare at the trainees running around below. "Brings back memories, doesn't it Fanny?" 362 leaned forward, lost in thought. "You, me, Abby, Kuki; all of us training under Numbuh 11? Every so often we'd go up against Numbuh 9's boys…" She smiled. "Seems so long ago."

"Oh, yes" Fanny smiled nervously. Numbuh 362 was something of a hero to her. "Eh, sir? I suppose you'll want me to show the new recruit around?"

"Hmmm?" Rachel was still lost in thought. "Oh. No, that won't be necessary. 65.3 and I will take care of the training for whoever we select. You remember, that's what happened when you came into rank."

"Yeah, I been thinking about all that happened then a lot lately." Fanny gave out a quavering laugh. "I'd hardly gotten used to the job when they asked me to chase down the former head."

"Yes, I remember that." 362 continued to stare down at the training ground, avoiding 86's eyes. "A pity she didn't go quietly. You'd think someone in charge of the rules would follow them better."

"You'd think." Another shaky laugh. "She didn't go quietly though. We had to chase her all through hill and dale and all." There was a pause and Rachel heard a gulp. "I been thinkin', sir—do you think she was afraid cause she knew about all what happened? You know, with the decomissionin' and all…"

Rachel thought very carefully before anwering. "I think." She said. "That if I was head of Decommissioning, I'd want to go."

"Sir?" the confusion rang in Fanny's voice.

"I'd want to forget." Rachel nodded, looking down. "I'd want to forget all the fights, the battles, the friends I had to turn against." She nodded again, more slowly. "I think I'd run to the chamber."

"But, sir, wouldn't you…" Fanny began, then stopped suddenly. "Sir," she snapped, in a very different tone. "Do you hear that?"

362 listened. Slowly she began to hear a swiftly growing whine, like a banshee swooping in.

"DOWN!" 86 screamed, jumping forward, knocking 362 to the ground. The icy wall before them exploded, scattering splinters of clear, jagged crystal to the air, crashing to the ground. The confused screams of the cadets below could be just heard over the wail of the alert siren.

"86, get off me!" 362 struggled. "We need to help those kids down there!"

86 ignored her. "You, there, and you!" she screamed, pointing at the guards. "Get over here! Now!" The guards, who had been knocked to the ground by the blast, jumped up and ran over. "Get Numbuh 362 out of here! Cover her!"

362 finally threw 86 off her. "Negative, Numbuh 86! I'm fine! We need to get down there and get those cadets out!"

"That's a negative, Numbuh 362!" Numbuh 60 came running up. "The cadets are fine, but security shows a coastal fleet just off our perimeter. We need to get you to the hanger bay and out of here ASA-NOW!"

"I'll get up to the Command Deck!" 86 screamed, pointing at 60. "You take anyone you can find and lead a counter attack!"

"I'm the head of the Artic Base!" 60 shot back. "I'll alert the rest of the garrison, you take 362 and get her out of here!'

"I'M the Global Tactical Commander!" 86's scream grated in 362's ears. "Now you get out there before I decommission your…"

"QUIET!" 362 yelled. The two officers fell silent. They stood and looked at the Soopreme Leader as the siren wailed and the cannons rumbled. Ice fell around them in chunks, thudding and breaking with violent noise.

"Numbuh 86, take Sector A and lead a strike across the ice cap to see who's firing at us. Numbuh 60, take a rescue squad through the Artic base and minimize the damage. I'll go up to the command room and coordinate the two of you. 60, once you're finished, gather all forces and make a cooperative strike to assist Numbuh 86." She glared at them. "Now MOVE!"

"Sir, I mean ma'am, I mean," 60, 86, and the two guards flew about in mad haste. "sir, yes sir!" They dashed off.

362 sighed and leaned against the shattered railing, watching Fanny round up the surrounding operatives. She felt a tug on her shoulder. "Excuse me, did you want to see me?"

She turned to see a short Japanese girl in a light purple shirt, staring at her, a goofy smile plastered across her face. "Numba 60 said you wanted to talk to me." She explained.

"Ah, cadet Mushi." 362 looked down at her. "Yes. You've been selected to enter Decomissioner's training. See that girl down there?" She pointed.

Mushi ran up to the railing and watched 86 storm out the door, operatives behind her. "Yeah. Isn't she the new Global Tactical person?"

"Yes." 362 nodded. "You'll be replacing her as head of decommissioning."

"Okay." Mushi nodded happily. She seemed to take the momentous news in stride. "By the way, why'd you make HER the Global Tactical Lady? Doesn't she stink at her job?"

362 glanced quickly at the young cadet in surprise.

"Seems like you just gave her the position to get her out of the decommissioning chamber." Mushi glanced up brightly.

362 made a mental note to listen more closely to 60's recommendations in the future.

"Numbuh 86 is a completely capable officer, and I have every faith in her ability to measure up to the task." She said, staring at the young cherub. "Any comments against her will regarded as insubordination."

Mushi shrugged. "Okay."

362 looked out again. Far away, she could see the fire of battle flaring on the ice. Somewhere out there, she knew, Fanny would be in the thick of it, screaming orders and firing at the enemy with unbridled fury.

Rachel sighed and let her head fall forward onto her chest. Politics, rules, regulations… they could be so difficult to follow at times.

Yet Rachel was the Supreme Leader, and had to obey them just like everyone else. She had to read regulations, follow rules, and carry out protocols, even if they were ones that involved your dearest and oldest friends.

And one protocol that had held since the Great Teenager rebellion stated that as the Head of Decommisioning neared her twelfth birthday, she must be removed from her position and transferred to some useless administrative position. Otherwise, when she turned 13, there would be no other head of decommissioning to chase her down.

Rachel lifted her head up, staring at the cold hard ice and the girl she saw in it. It was not her, though it too had blonde hair and a tiger-striped oversized sweatshirt. It was some other girl, harder and colder, who followed the rules whatever the real her said about it.

A tear slid down Rachel's cheek, but it made no reflection.

I have no idea what I'm trying to say here. I was just thinking about the different implications of the Decommissioning office, and this thing came out.

By the way, this is part of a longer story that is still in the works. I'm new to the whole KND fanverse, but I'm willing to try my hand.