Chapter 29: Chains of Command

She had always heard the expression "light at the end of the tunnel". It was a human term from what she understood, originating from their belief that after death came a guiding light that led one to the afterlife and eternal providence. In the fleeting darkness, she couldn't help but be slightly amused that of all things in the universe that was what was floating in her mind.

'Is this it?' she wondered. 'Am I dead?'

No, that was ridiculous, she deducted. Digimon didn't die, they were just reborn from reconfigured information. The fact that she was still capable of remembering past events indicated that she was still alive.

Now she wished that she hadn't recalled anything at all. Self-aware of the luminescence breaking through, her mind became bombarded by the excruciating aches and throbs within both her body and head. On top of it all she felt a crushing weight on her lungs as they struggled to function and the stabbing pain like a dagger embedded in her abdomen. Each breath seemed to take in nothing of value, grasping at only dry emptiness.

Trying to focus on anything but the pain, she could have sworn she could make out a muffled voice. Forcing a scarred eye open, she quickly shut it against the blinding sunlight.

"General," the voice came again. "General."

She knew that voice from somewhere, but for the life of her she couldn't focus on it long enough to remember. Against the straining backdrop, a shadow fell over her to block out the sun.

"General Charybdismon."

"Lieu…tenant," she wheezed.

"I'm here, Sir," he informed. "You've been injured… badly. Try not to talk. We're going to try to move you back underneath."

Charybdismon tried to respond, but felt too weak to do so as she realized that the reasoning behind her labored breaths was that she had been almost all the way washed ashore, left to bake in the heat of the day like a helpless guppy displaced by the tide.

"We're going to lift you back in, Sir. We'll be careful, but this is going to hurt."

Whatever grogginess and aches she was experiencing before was instantly expelled by the torturous stabs that flooded her mind as the three Adaromon stabilized her and lifted her mangled form from the sand. Never before had such pain flooded her psyche, proven true by the piercing scream that escaped her. Against her will she thrashed against the helping hands of her subordinates, furthering her torment.

"Get the General in, quickly," the Lieutenant barked as they moved into the shallow. "Be careful."

Retreating back into the water for as much their sake as their commander's, the Adaromon set the General down as gently as they could onto the sea floor despite her struggles, allowing the crisp salt water to run flush over her gills.

Although the sea did nothing to ease her physical suffering, her shaking began to ease and calm her down significantly. She was finally able to crack open a swollen and scarred crimson eye to look upon her rescuers and the sapphire wasteland that was the product of their futile battle. It was in itself a baptism and granting of a second life; proof that the universe wasn't through with her just yet.

She knew her body would self regenerate itself over time and she would be back to normal in a few days, but the knowledge that she had come so close to being annihilated was traumatizing to say the least. She wouldn't allow it to show, however. Presence in the face of adversity was what separated the bold from the cowardly.

"My…men?" she forced.

Her question was met with the disheartening silence she had expected. The gloom in their demeanor said everything that needed to be said.

"They… fought valiantly, Sir," the mournful Lieutenant confirmed.

Through the affliction that plagued her, Charybdismon felt the distinctive pang of her heart sinking.

"How many?" she questioned, fighting back her emotions.

"Including you, Sir, we have barely enough for a platoon remaining," the Lieutenant lamented. "We held off as long as we could, but the enemy's artillery was too much. All four companies took heavy losses."

Never in all her life had Charybdismon, hardened warrior and fearless General of the mighty Glass Sky Empire, felt so forsaken as she did in that moment. Emotions long since locked away and labeled as weak began to surface, breaking down her mental fortress. Grief, sadness, loneliness, and fear mixed in with the brewing cauldron of rage and mindless anger for her failure as a commander.

"How are…survivors?"

"Sir…for the time being I've ordered everyone to rest and regroup. They need to lick their wounds and mourn for their brothers. I know this must be as difficult for you as it is for them, but they're going to need you to lead them past this. They're awaiting your command."

How the Lieutenant could remain so composed in this trying moment was beyond her comprehension. On the verge of a breaking down entirely, she, Charybdismon, a living legend whose very name sent enemies scattering, gathered every ounce of will power that remained to keep such an act of weakness from occurring in front of the warriors who respected her most.

"Tonight…let them rest," she ordered, defying the immense physical and mental pain that came with doing so. "Tomorrow will bring…reprisal."


Congregated in the galley of the submersible, the Digi-Destined waited impatiently in the suffocating confines of the claustrophobic room. With all fourteen of them cramped into a finite space along with a Conermon escort, the humans tried their best to make themselves comfortable, mainly avoiding bumping their heads on the low ceiling above that was obviously not designed for occupancy by such tall individuals.

The clamoring of the swinging doors slamming open to push them into one another even more alerted them to the small platoon of the mercenary Digimon that entered, each carrying an assortment of scrub brushes, brooms, and buckets no bigger than large cups. Throwing the tools unceremoniously into a heap, they saluted and exited just as quickly as they appeared.

"Alright then," the Conermon in charge droned lazily taking a seat on a stool in the corner, clearly annoyed or uninterested in the assigned task at hand. "From what I understand, you all struck some kind of deal and now I have to watch you scrub the mess hall and galley. Here's everything you should need, so hop to it."

Eying the equipment curiously, Lona picked up one of the buckets and a mop that seemed more like a large paintbrush than anything useful.

"So what exactly do you want us to do?" she questioned.

If she could have seen through his blackened helmet, she most certainly would have seen the creature's eyes roll exhaustively.

"You take the bucket, fill it with water and soap, and use the brushes and mops to clean the mess hall and kitchen. Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

"Well you certainly do not need to be rude about it," Lutramon huffed.

"Whatever," the Conermon said with a wave of the hand. "Just have this all cleaned up by evening chow. You should have plenty of time."

"And then we get to meet with your Commander?" Trio questioned to ensure that their bargain was still agreed upon.

"Not my job, so I can't really say," the Conermon replied, leaning back on the stool and resting his domed head against the wall. "You'll have to talk to the higher ups on that one."

"Well a fine lot of help you are," Beakmon grumbled.

"What was that?!" the watchman questioned sarcastically, raising a hand to his non-existent ear. "You want to scrub the mess hall and the latrines?!"

Andreo eyed his partner warily with a faint look of disgust at the statement, in which Beakmon only mumbled incoherently with a slight scowl.

"That's what I thought," the sailor replied smugly. "Now chop chop."


"Hey, Captain," Erri snided as he wringed out a grime coated brush over a "bucket" and went back to scrubbing the mess hall's floor. "Just out of curiosity, how long can you hold your breath for? Cause right now I have half a mind to toss you overboard and see for myself."

Their temporary commander didn't bother to look up from his current task of helping Kiela tackle the mess within the kitchen, going about as though he didn't hear anything.

"Leave Trio alone, Erri," Kiela defended mildly from the kitchen area, sweeping a tuft of hair behind her shoulders as she scrubbed the silver pot in front of her. A mountain of filthy dishes remained off to the side still awaiting their turn. "It's not that bad."

"Exactly," Cubmon confirmed as he vigorously scrubbed away at an unyielding food stain on one of the metal tables. "We could have ended up cleaning the crap-tanks on this crap-tank. Just imagine how much fun we would have had doing that."

"What do you mean 'we'?" Andreo instigated with a chuckle. "That'd be a job for our courageous and glorious Captain. A good leader should be willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good, right?"

"No, no," Ry chimed in as he mopped up the mess hall with the puny equipment. "Trio's not big enough to count as a full sacrifice. We'd need two of him."

Trio only maintained his silence throughout the ordeal, working diligently on the task at hand with a small grin as he took a clean dish from Kiela and wiped it dry with a cloth before stacking it neatly to the side.

"Why do you let them pick on you all the time?" Chitalmon wondered aloud, standing beside his partner with fresh cloths draped over his antlers like a towel rack.

"Because men are weird like that," Keila responded matter-of-factly before Trio could answer. "It's their whole 'alpha male' mentality so they pick on people smaller than them to make themselves feel important."

"Mean," Diosamon stated observantly.

"Yes it is, Diosamon," she agreed with a playful tone. "If only men could be as caring and friendly towards one another as women."

From his perspective near the floor, Chitalmon could see Trio's grin turn upwards into an almost painful smirk as he dried off another dish. Seeming on the verge of violent laughter, he calmed himself down from the edge and maintained a happy smile.

"Please," he jested. "You and your family are always on the verge of starting World War III."

"Family is exempt," Kiela countered quickly. "Everyone's family fights at some point or another."

"Most family fights don't include actual weapons."

"Hey, that was one time!" she blurted out. "And it wasn't a weapon...technically."

"An angry teenage girl with a softball bat?" Trio argued smugly. "How does that not count as a weapon?"

"I wasn't going to hit her with it!"

"Bull."

"Jerk," Kiela laughed, sending a wave of water, soap, and food particles splashing onto the temporary commander.

A quick retaliation soon followed from the victim, ending in a thorough dousing to the assailant, which in turn created a rapid escalation in altercations, resulting in both parties drenched from head to toe.

"Do you understand anything that's going on?" Chitalmon asked Diosamon from the sidelines, trying to distance themselves from the waterworks. The seraphic Rookie beside him only shook her head in confusion.

Utilizing the flexible spigot's spray nozzle, the primary attacker quickly gained advantage over her opponent, who feebly tried to deflect the attack with a flimsy metal cooking pan. Merely changing the trajectory of her assault, the defense was rendered all but useless. Knowing that he had been defeated in this battle, Trio did the only thing a leader in his position could logically do: he surrendered.

"Alright, alright, I'm done, I'm done," he chuckled, raising his hands to shield himself.

"So you admit that women are the almighty gender, superior in every way?" she gloated, maintaining a steady stream pointed at his face.

"Sure, yeah! Whatever!"

With both parties sufficiently soaked, Kiela accepted the formal surrender and relinquished her attack.

"I am woman, hear me roar," she boasted proudly.

As the water dripped steadily from their hair and clothes and the laughter died down, the two Digi-Destined looked around at the many eyes staring at them in their current water-logged state and felt a sudden rush of embarrassment and slight guilt at the havoc they had caused. The already mopped floor was now semi-flooded with soapy water and bits of leftover scraps and their Digimon were shaking off their drenched fur they had received in the friendly fire. Most of all they had attracted the attention of the Conermon guard, who seemed both intrigued and mildly amused at their antics despite lacking facial features.

"Havin' fun back here?" Croix prodded with a Cheshire smile, peering through the window that separated the mess from the galley.

"Oodles," Kiela replied, playing it off.

"Uh-huh," the cowboy responded devilishly, eyeing Coppermon and Andreo as though to signal to them to watch closely. His partners in crime instantly picked up on the hint.

"Ya know that it's considered harassment to flirt with your subordinates," the "Sergeant" baited. "What kinda example are ya tryin' to set for us with all this hanky panky goin' on back here?"

"Hanky panky?" Trio replied, realizing instantly that Croix was trying to get a reaction out of him by stirring that particular pot up. Despite knowing exactly what the cowboy was trying to ensue, he just couldn't help but let it get under his skin.

"We have no idea what you're talking about," Keila defended in feigned ignorance. "We've just been cleaning the dishes."

Leaning over to Coppermon, Croix raised his hand to whisper something covert, of which the serpent replied with a snicker.

"Cleaning the dishes? Is that what the kids are calling it now?" the serpent repeated the message.

The only acknowledgements to be had toward the jab were a pair of rolled eyes.

"Ry," Jurassimon questioned innocently from the entranceway to the galley. "What's hanky panky?"

The uproar of laughter that followed his inquiry instantly had the young reptile wondering what he had said that was so funny, for as far as he knew it was a genuine question. Looking up at his partner, he patiently waited to see what the answer might be. Everyone else in the room seemed to be following suit, eagerly awaiting a reply as well.

"It's kinda how guys and girls show they like each other as more than friends," Ry explained crossing his arms and putting on a show to redirect the question at hand. However, much to his embarrassment and annoyance, Jurassimon continued deeper into the subject.

"What do they do?"

It didn't take Ry much to realize that everyone's attention had now been directed back to him. Without saying anything, he tried to disguise his growing irritation. Why of all times and places, he thought, did Jurassimon want to get on that particular subject? Ever since their talk in Gravestone City, the yellow dinosaur couldn't help but ask all sorts of questions about human behaviors, many of them childish and easy to answer or skirt around. He was curious and he understood that, but this was just not the moment to ask those questions.

"I'll explain it to you later, alright," he assured with a fake smile.

"You always say that," Jurassimon said dejectedly, lowering his head.

"Geez, Ry. What are you teaching him?" Erri teased.

"Nothing," he growled under his breath. "Just drop it."

Watching one another in confirmation, everyone could sense that the conversation had taken a sour turn for the young man. Where they would normally continue on with their jokes with someone like Trio who just took it, something just seemed off about Ry's reaction, as though he was genuinely aggravated by the whole thing.

"Back to the matter at hand," Andreo pressed on, steering themselves away before they crossed a line. "We cannot have our Captain tainting the innocent minds of his female troops with his smut."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," Trio fired back with a scoff. "You and Croix are the about most depraved people I know."

"Apples and oranges," the Bearer of Loyalty egged on. "Either way, this is highly inappropriate behavior. How are we supposed to trust you to lead us now knowing this is what you do with your troops?"

"Give the poor guy a break," Lona interposed. "Whatever they want to do behind closed doors is their business. They just need to keep it down from now on whenever they do decide to do something. "

"Not you too," Lutramon groaned softly, rubbing a blackened paw over her face.

"Well a kitchen is hardly a convenient place for…whatever it is you humans do in relations," Beakmon observed astutely.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Lona joked.

"Does this mean that I've been promoted?"

"She was making fun of you, birdbrain" Coppermon explained with a sigh.

"Oh…"

"I swear if you guys were any more dense in the head the whole damn ship would sink," Erri mumbled to himself as he returned to his task.

"Yeah, some crack team you got here, "the Conermon observed. "And as much as I enjoy slacking off on the job, now you're all just wasting my time. Get this mess cleaned up, pronto."

Strolling back to his stool, the sailor turned his crossed his arms in boredom as he waited impatiently for their duties to finally get done.

Eyeing the two dripping culprits, the Digi-Destined offered no help in services as they too returned to their assignments.

"I'm not cleaning that up again," Ry stated disapprovingly, letting the miniature mop fall haphazardly from his grasp and thud on the metallic floor at their feet.

As Ry took his leave and the Captain retrieved the mop and bucket and placed them in the corner for later use, Chitalmon observed the manner in which his partner returned to his post. It was difficult to describe, but the soft smile on the young man's face showed that for all their harassment and bickering, all was normal within the group.

"I suppose there's a lot about humans that we still need to understand," he spoke to himself, watching as his partner took another plate from his female companion and wiped it off without a word.


Everybody deserves a friend like Croix who will just mess with you for absolutely no reason at all. Sorry for the wait guys, things have been hectic on my end as usual. To be continued...

K.K.