Groom Lake was, as many suspected, packed with aliens and their technology, and—despite any similarities between the two—was the only place where MIB crossed paths with the U.S. military.
Calen stood against a hangar with his disguise on, staring out into the desert, horizon wavering in the Nevada heat. Another disguised alien dressed in full khaki stood off to his right, her eyes focused on the flip phone in her hand and her body stock still as she waited for any sign that any of the remaining hunt team had received her and Calen's messages. It had been ten minutes since she'd last called the seven or so names in her contacts list, and, as he drew in a breath to ask for another update, she started dialing again.
"Make sure to tell them I'm docking their pay every minute they're late," he said, "We should be doing airlock checks by now, Iohi. Where the fuck are they?"
"Out following the orders we originally gave them, I assume," Iohi said after she'd finished leaving a message. "If I had to guess, I would assume they're either asleep or in the field without their burners. Cellular servi—"
"Shut the fuck up. I don't give a fuck what they're actually doing. All I give a fuck about is that they need to be here and they're not. Managing the hunt team is your responsibility and getting them where they need to be is included with that. If it's such a damn problem, I suggest you rethink your policy of letting them galavant about without a way for us to contact them!"
"Keeping their devices on them at all times is already a part of my policies. If you'd let me hire the team myself, maybe they'd be a bit more inclined to follow orders."
"So you and your friends can have vacations to Earth on my dime?"
"Even if I had friends outside the current crew, I wouldn't foist your petulance and abuse onto them. My hypothetical friends deserve work that won't drive them to suicide."
"Shut your mouth before I move your bunk to an airlock. Just get those lazy shits here before they start owing me money."
Iohi rolled her eyes as she continued down the list, two of the team picking up and the rest either ignoring the frantic calling or unaware of it. An hour of calls, texts, and bickering later, Calen made the executive decision to abandon the rest of the crew, and alert O that they'd need to be taken care of in one way or another. The how didn't matter to him, but he had genuine hope that she would be as ruthless as he would in the same situation.
"They'd better pray that MIB kills them," Calen grumbled as he and Iohi stalked through the hangar to a service elevator near the back.
"For once, I agree. Whatever hell you're thinking of is probably far worse and likely a war crime." Iohi sighed as she followed him into the elevator, her face betraying far less of her emotional state than Calen's wrathful glowering. As the lift lowered, the latter deactivated his disguise, scoffing as Iohi opted to keep hers on.
"It doesn't fool anyone, you know," he said, pretending to brush something from the front of his robe, "I don't even know why you bother to keep it on so much. The crew and I all know how disgusting you are beneath it."
"I'm aware. Thought you'd be happy I started keeping it on."
"It really doesn't matter. I've already seen you without it, and once was enough to sear the appearance of your kind into my mind forever." He faked a shudder, looking over at the other alien with hate in his eyes. "I don't know why the rest of Kirota voted to keep you slimy savages alive, but I do suppose the lesser, unedited masses couldn't be as gifted as I."
"They realized we weren't a threat. Even your own 'edited' brother agreed with that. Why can't you?"
"Because I know your kind better."
"I help keep the records myself, Calen. You've never even been to Kiro-3. What would you know about my kind?" The elevator stopped, Iohi quick to begin the trek into the sub-hangar. Calen rolled his eyes but followed her regardless, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. In silence, the pair approached a black, tadpole-esque ship, Iohi pausing at its back to run through her preflight checklist once more. A circular door at its side opened and Calen climbed in, settling himself in the seat closest to the exit.
By the time Iohi had finished her external tests, the two members of the hunt team, one a Baltian named Alcion, the other a reptilian creature that didn't talk at all, had shown up and climbed into the craft. She followed, placing herself in the pilot's seat, the reptilian next to her.
"Any internal issues," she asked her co-pilot. They shook their head, Alcion securing the rear doors before buckling herself in. "Then we're ready for launch."
"Finally! Thank fuck." Calen sighed, leaning back against his seat as the engine whirred beneath him. "Iohi, if you can get us back to the Shear before the next meal, I'll award you the wages I docked from everyone else."
"I've heard it's a madhouse and we'll be lucky to make it to the moon before the shift change."
"Hmph! I hope we don't keep O waiting. We do have something very time-sensitive to be doing!"
"I'm aware, and I'm certain she'd much rather have you in one piece if whatever has you so excited is really that important." Iohi shushed him as he tried to speak again and turned her undivided attention to the controls. She had to, the only way out of the Groom Lake sub-hangar was a series of tunnels that released into the desert. They weren't particularly difficult to navigate, especially for a pilot as experienced with them as her, but even then they required the utmost attention to monotonous detail. So much so, that she normally enjoyed the occasional barrel roll to break up the ceaseless flying through that long, concrete tube.
But there'd be no such fun today. As much as it would do for the tense, frantic feeling that was emanating from Calen, Iohi didn't feel like arguing with him about whatever excuse he'd come up with to justify a reprimand. She didn't look back at him, but she knew that he had his face pressed against the window and that he was sulking.
"So, are you going to tell us the reason you're dragging us back into space and abandoning our coworkers or..." Iohi asked, Calen scoffing as he realized he was going to have to explain himself.
"My girlfriend's been potentially kidnapped. O entrusted me to search for her."
"Ransom?"
"We don't know. MIB is hesitant to even call it a kidnapping, but I don't think it would've been anything else." He twisted and untwisted his tentacles in frustration, his brow furrowed. "Now that you know, will you please speed up! God only knows what they're doing to her, and god only knows she can barely defend herself! She's so much weaker than me, Iohi! For the sake of my love, my nerves, and your own job, get us out of these tunnels!"
"This is literally as fast as I can go without tripping the alarms."
"I will pay them whatever fine they want at the fucking border. Just know that I'm ten seconds from taking the controls!"
"Calen, we are two minutes from the exit. If you're this worried about getting started, call O and get briefed on any leads they've made. But forebears help me, you touch me while we're in these tunnels, I'll rip your head off and use it as a hatrack." He went to argue back, but Alcion shot him a look before closing her eyes to rest.
"Fine, but the moment we're there, we're leaving. Not stopping for a goddamn thing, just taking any lead and running with it." He rested his head against the window again, grumbling to himself as he dialed O. She gave him little more to go off of than a handful of passenger manifests that they felt could've been Eula's potential kidnappers or accomplices, and as he skimmed through them, he started to get confused.
There were sixteen in total. Eight freighters, six cruise lines, and two personal craft. The first fourteen he dismissed almost immediately. No business working within the confines of MIBs policies would even think of letting a human off-planet, and almost every ship destined for Earth came equipped with a literal alarm system that would silently alert the bridge if one were to board.
"Does O know that?" he thought, glaring down at the screen. "She can't possibly. She wouldn't send me freighter manifests if she knew there was no way for Eula to be on them, right?"
Silently, he turned his attention to the last two vessels. The first had a single Belfese pilot, an Arquilian co-pilot, and no passengers. This wasn't exactly abnormal to Calen, so he did wonder what O's suspicions were. The second craft had a much larger list, it rattling through a collection of eleven Arquilian passengers, two acting as pilots. It was here that he put his phone away and returned to staring out the window.
"Alcion, Iohi? How stupid do you think I am?" The Baltian's eyes snapped open and she looked over at her boss, brow furrowed.
"What makes you ask," she wondered, Calen sighing.
"O sent me the manifests to sixteen ships. Fourteen of them are ships I know for a fact would have a detection system for humans attempting to stow away. I'm honestly not even completely sure if she knows this herself, but... The other two were personals, both had Arquilians on them. What might you two assume about the situation?"
"Were there Arquilians on the others?"
"Many."
"They suspect one of them?"
"And the Belfese or Kirotish, plenty of us, or..." His voice trailed off and he frowned. "Sergala."
"...What does a diplomat have to do with this? Other than occasionally having tentacles?."
"O told me she'd only be on Earth for a day, so she left sometime within the past twenty-four hours. Her bodyguard is an Arquilian. Kylothians are the least similar out of those three, but Belfe embraces total pacifism, and I would know if it was Kirota who did this. Why wouldn't they give me the manifest to Sergala's ship too? Even if we're just taking what they sent at face value; Othniel's an Arquilian who left right before Eula turned up missing. Why isn't his name on here?"
"I..." Alcion started, but shrugged, unable to come up with a reason. "Not a clue."
"Because you're a danger to their mission," Iohi stated from the front, "As far as I can tell, you're not a total moron, but you're not a person who has a good handle on his emotions. No matter how hard you try, they get the better of you. And O sees this as something that will compromise the mission. Seems pretty simple to me."
"I have plenty of control over myself, creature! If O doesn't recognize that, it's her problem... But you could very well be correct about what you're implying."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't worry. Once we're on the Shear, there's going to be a slight change of plans. Instead of chasing dead ends like this bitch wants me to, we're going to Jorn. She should make it there fine. Right, Iohi?"
"Should being the operative word. If the core gives out, we might be stranded for a few days, but we'll probably make it to Jorn."
"Good enough for me. If they question you on where we're going, tell them we're going after the Arquilian craft. Probably the least suspicious place to start."
"What are we gonna do if we run into the other operative?"
"Kill it." Calen looked over at Iohi, smiling. "If everyone keeps their mouth shut, it won't be a problem, and I know plenty about dealing with noisy pests."
Iohi sighed but nodded, Alcion shaking her head. He ignored both of them, his gaze focused towards the moon and his mind focused towards how exactly he planned to get back at O for double-crossing him.
"What if I just keep Eula on Kirota?" The thought had come to him almost immediately and the more he tossed it around in his head, the more convinced he became that it was a good idea. She wanted to be free of MIB, he wanted her, and he felt he had plenty of motivation to never return to Earth again. "I can spoil us both on what I make back home. Even then, I don't need to come to Earth. I can delegate. It's brilliant! Eula gets her freedom, I get back what's mine, and MIB can go fuck themselves. I just have to get to her first!"
He smiled, fidgeting as they climbed through the atmosphere, his fingers constantly tapping against his lap by the time they'd passed through the ARC net. Iohi was ready to kill him once they'd made it to the Shear, and she very nearly did when he rose out of his seat before the airlock had even sealed. The moment he heard the hiss of breathable air being returned to the room, he threw open the hatch and climbed out. The remains of the hunt team watched him as he sped to the other side of the airlock, Alcion laughing as he rolled under the still opening door. Calen barely gave pause. By the time the doors had even fully opened, he was already on the other side of the hangar and heading directly for the bridge.
Eremil was younger than his brother by a few years—and more than a few shades greener—but out of the pair he was definitely the better pilot. Granted, he'd been one since he could see over the controls, and even before he'd had a love of sitting in their father's lap whenever he flew. He wondered—on occasion—if his love of piloting came from his wanderlust, or because he knew that Calen was going to be handed their father's cushy government job. In the end, he didn't really care and it didn't really matter. That deal had been set in stone long before he and Calen were thought of, let alone created, and Eremil hadn't had much interest in the position—beyond its pay, but he had reason to believe that it likely wouldn't be worth it.
"Shit, this job is barely worth it," he thought, turning to the door as Calen swept in. Eremil waved at him and sat down at the controls.
"Before you ask, Jorn," Calen said as he paced behind his brother's chair, "And don't declare that officially. MIB doesn't need to know where we're going this time."
"I always feel like I should ask questions in times like this, but I have many gut feelings that I will like none of the answers." Eremil sighed, looked over the dashboard, and began punching commands. "Alright, Jorn. Are we sure this won't fuck the core?"
"Iohi doesn't think so."
"And how many times has she piloted the Black Shear?"
"Just the once, but she still got us through that asteroid field. I'm not taking it as gospel, but we should be fine."
"Should, but okay. You wanna jump and get it over with?"
"Please. There's an Arquilian there who might've kidnapped your inevitable sister-in-law."
"Bastard. Are you gonna kill 'em?"
"As much as I want to, no. It's Othniel and it's Jorn, he's in no way unprepared or unarmed and that renders an overt rescue impossible." Calen huffed, Eremil widening his eyes.
"Kay, so, a completely insane, Kylothian-loving, military-grade nutcase kidnapped Eula... Why? Like, for what? What is this gonna do for him? Piss you off?"
"If I had any answers, I'd give them. Maybe he's trying to save the Kylothians? I don't care. All I know is I want the love of my life back."
"When are you going to grow a backbone so you can finally just call her your wife?"
"Shut up. It's more of a commitment between humans."
"That's why half of their unions end, right?"
"Maybe not to all of them, but it matters to her. And you act like I'm not prepared!" Calen rolled his eyes and took a seat next to Eremil. "I have both their ring and I've had our circlet woven and ready for a couple months now. I may very well ask the moment she's in my arms again. This whole mess has really... It's really put into perspective just how deeply I love her, Eremil. I don't think I'll stand being away from her anymore. She's coming home to Kirota with us."
"Finally! You can actually do your job, and I can take over here!"
"I would trust no one more, but I absolutely will audit your ass if I think you're shorting me."
"I'm not that stupid. One of us knows better."
"Haha. Jump us to Jorn already, child. I'll give the warning." Eremil turned his attention back to the dash as Calen rose and walked to a large yellow button on the wall to their left. With a press, a warning light next to the door began flashing, and the intercom buzzed to life, repeating a warning message in a few different languages. "How long should we give them to secure everything?"
"Ten minutes. Should only be the mechanics securing anything but their bodies, and they've likely already done that." Eremil pressed a few more buttons, a countdown appearing on the console in front of him, and the intercom updating its message. "If we receive the all-clear before then, we'll go ahead."
"Perfect." Calen said, taking his seat again and buckling himself in. Eremil did the same, folding his hands on his lap as he watched the clock.
"So are we really bringing Eula home with us or were you just teasing me?"
"We absolutely are. O double-crossed me. I have no reason to not wipe my hands of Earth."
"Good. Dad will finally have his requirements for marrying her met."
"He couldn't stop me if he tried and he's the one who was so insistent I try to wed a human anyway! He could've come to Earth with us at any time to meet the woman he apparently so desperately wants as a daughter-in-law, but—"
"Calen!" Eremil shouted, mimicking someone much older. "I'm your father! I made you with my own two tentacles! Do I not at least deserve to spend my final years on my own planet? I'm too old for this running around with no rest. I did plenty of it as the Prime Minister!"
"I know, dad! You never shut up about having to retire to raise your son! I'm so sorry you decided to create me!" The brothers looked to each other and Eremil immediately started cracking up, Calen hiding his face in his hands as he laughed too.
"Why did he even make us if he was just gonna bitch about raising kids?" Eremil asked, still giggling.
"I have no idea! Especially considering that you exist. If he didn't like raising kids, he should've quit after me."
"I think I'm only here because his narcissism wanted himself but better, and the only way the lab would let him put his DNA in there was if he was gonna raise the result."
"Either that or he missed me being small, cute, and non-defiant and thought another baby would fix it."
"Fool! I was the picture of non-compliance from the moment I was brought into the world screaming about this wretched fate!"
"I still swear you were sentient at birth. He pulled you out and then you looked over at me, then up at him, and just cried and cried and cried and you didn't stop until he gave up and told you to scream forever."
"Defiant right out of my own artificial amniotic sack! I made sure the bastard knew from the beginning that he had no control over me! I hope he regrets me 'til the end of his days!" They both cackled, Iohi walking through the doors. She cleared her throat as she approached, the brothers turning towards her.
"I'm here to strap in and give the all-clear," she said, sitting down on the other side of Eremil. He smiled at her, waiting until she was fully secured before returning his attention to the dash. He cleared the countdown, the engines groaning as he initiated the jump. The standard twenty-second timer began counting down, Eremil offering one of his hands to Iohi, and the other to Calen. Both accepted.
"Alright, everyone. Brace yourself, and pray we make it." He said as the last five seconds passed them by.
It was over and done in a second or two, but by the time anyone on the bridge had registered the metallic rattling coming from beneath them, it was too late to stop the core from grinding to a halt, a small explosion following. As the jump ended—not anywhere within the vicinity of Jorn—Eremil groaned and planted his face on the barest spot of dashboard he could find.
"I always forget how much jumps suck," Calen said, letting go of his brother's hand. "How do I always forget?"
"For what it's worth, we just lost the fucking core so we had to come out of it fast. Io? You alright?"
"I'll be fine," she said, "I just need my organs to catch up with me."
"Soon. But for now," Eremil unbuckled himself with his free hand, Iohi releasing his other as he stood. "Time to go fix it! With any luck, we'll have Eula safe again in a day or so."
"How much would replacing it set us back," Calen asked.
"More time and money than we'll lose if I just get down there and make it work. Side note: this type of power core isn't even in production anymore. It was made by the Archanans back before they got devoured. One of the most powerful kinds, next to maybe a literal galaxy. You replace it with anything other than one in verifiably better condition and I kill you."
"Oh, how I imagine one day stealing that fucking thing and wiping that smug, little, over-armed narcissist off the face of the universe."
"Good luck. Arquilians are at the top of the arms race, and while that smug, over-armed narcissist might've bowed out after what happened to the Rosenberg, he's still involved with the military—involved with top brass! To finish this argument: you have the most minuscule fraction of his experience in live combat situations. We do not under any circumstances try to fight Othniel. We're gonna ask nicely and beg he doesn't hate you enough to kill us on sight."
"How are you this scared of him?! He's six inches tall! I know he's great at combat, that's wonderful for him, but I have an extra seventy-two inches on the fucker, and I can move far faster than him. If we happen to cross paths and he's not in a suit..." Calen glanced at the window and smiled, the sort that was full of intent. Eremil rolled his eyes and cast an exasperated look over to Iohi, the latter silently laughing to herself.
"In the event of that, I'm gonna do the smart thing and snap your neck if you try. Kirota doesn't need war, especially not against Arquilians. How long is it going to take for you to realize that, as one of our heads of state, your actions reflect on the whole of our species?!" With that, Eremil stormed out, Iohi quick to follow while mumbling something about sleep.
Calen sat there for a moment and stared into the stars, frowning at what he thought was a comet; a small, silver streak against the unending void. Unbeknownst to him, it was a ship—like his, destined for the Kylothian system—one carrying not only the king regent and commander of the Zarthan military, but his ward, the Light of Zartha, and someday its queen, Leonia.
