For the first time since she had felt it, the chill autumn wind was actually a blessing to Eight, keeping her cool as she ran from the condo towards Inkopolis Square.
It was the first time in months, perhaps even a year, that Eight had needed to run like this. Despite that, muscle memory kept each step measured and her pace uniform. Years of running in formation with dozens of her peers every morning came back to her as she made quick work of one block after another. She could still hear her old training officer barking out the cadence, as if she was only feet away, with the training sergeants smacking anyone who got out of step or who lacked proper form, with a bamboo stick.
Another time, Eight would have thought about how her younger self would have been shocked and appalled had she known her future self would look back on those days with nostalgic fondness. She would have wondered how her old training officers and sergeants were fairing, if they were still alive. This time, Eight had more pressing things on her mind.
Yesterday, she had received a text message from Four, telling her she was needed at Cuttlefish Cabin at 16:00 today, and it was urgent. Unfortunately, that time cut it rather close to the end of her maid training lessons, as well as some important tasks Marina had left for her to do regarding Work Detail due by then. By the time she had all that taken care of, it was nearly time, and that left her a matter of only minutes to get to Cuttlefish Cabin from the penthouse.
This was the first time Eight had received any kind of formal summoning as a member of the NSS. She sometimes forgot she was an official member as she never participated on missions, for obvious reasons, so she assumed it had to be very important.
Inkopolis Square was bustling, despite the chill in the air. The crowds were so thick that Eight was forced to slow down lest she bump into anyone. It was considered poor manners to run in the square anyway.
Eight grimaced as she saw the clock at the bottom-right of the main screen hit 16:00. She was running late, and she still had a ways to go yet.
She moved to the isolated corner of the square where the familiar sewer grate waited, checked for anyone watching, then dove inside.
Travelling through the sewers took only moments but they felt like hours as she knew the seconds past her expected time of arrival ticked past. She hadn't even sent Four a text saying she might be late.
In her army days that would have resulted in a severe reprimand. Tardiness was not tolerated. She knew the NSS wouldn't actually punish her, but she did expect a firm scolding.
She burst through the grate on the other side, changed back to her octoling form and took in a deep breath, collapsing to her knees, panting.
She hadn't pushed herself like this since the metro. She was now realizing she was a bit out of shape, or perhaps it had to do with her increased weight since then.
"Eight!, You okay?"
A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Four's concerned expression, mantle dark-yellow and rippling.
Eight needed to catch her breath before she replied. This made her aware of yet another practical use of tuk-yan: it wasn't inhibited by shortness of breath.
"I'm fine," Eight eventually managed.
"Geez, did you run the whole way here?" Four helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as they made their way towards Cuttlefish Cabin.
Three was already there, wearing her uniform. She looked at Eight with worry but Eight managed to give her a reassuring smile, touched by her concern.
Callie and Marie were on the cabin's small porch area, garbed in business-like attire, probably from whatever they were doing prior to this meeting or what they would be doing soon after. They both looked very serious - Callie uncharacteristically so. That put Eight on edge.
Four helped her sit down, even though Eight had more or less recovered her breath, with herself sitting between Eight and Three.
"Well," Marie began. "Now that we're all here, we can begin. We'll skip the pleasantries; however, I need to state that operation is to be conducted without Captain Cuttlefish's knowledge. If anyone has a problem with that, speak up now.
Eight froze. For the commanding officer to be kept unadvised about even a potential operation was a huge breach in military protocol. A rogue operation was a fast way of finding oneself a demotion and relegated to unpleasant duties, even reassignment to a penal splatoon. What kind of operation could they possibly want to conduct they didn't want Captain Cuttlefish knowing about?
Despite her reservations, Eight raised no objections. Nobody else did either. Three's expression could have been carved from stone and Four looked wide-eyed and eager.
"Alright," Marie said. "We're all agreed, which means we all accept the consequences when we get caught.
Eight heard Four "ulp," and her eager expression was replaced with a worried grimace. Eight couldn't help but feel amused at her friend's sudden apprehension.
Marie continued. "For Eight's benefit, I'll just state we are acting on our plan to free the Octoling Prisoners in the Polip Prison facility. Most of them are ones Callie knows personally from her captivity. Octarian command is content to let them rot but we're not going to allow it. I know this is a bit unusual but you'll all just have to trust us that this is important."
"Especially to me," Callie cut in. "I know those octolings we'll be freeing could really benefit the octolings already in Inkopolis, giving them some of the guidance, leadership and direction that Marina just doesn't have the time or status for." She gave Eight an apologetic smile and Eight smiled back, understanding.
Marina was remarkable and quite well respected, but she was still young and just didn't have the time to devote to establishing a new Octarian culture-in-exile. She was more useful as a positive public image of their people.
"But more than just that," Callie said. "I'll consider this a personal favour from me. These girls looked after me while I was in captivity. They treated me well and became real friends by the end. In a way, I'm also the reason they're in that prison, so I feel it's my responsibility to get them out. This whole operation was my idea, and it was my idea not to tell Gramps about it. So, if things go wrong, you can blame me for whatever happens, okay?"
She probably intended to finish that speech with a smile, Eight thought, but she didn't. If anything, Callie looked closer to crying. Eight wondered if she'd had nightmares about this operation. She remembered Four telling her Callie still suffered nightmares about her captivity.
"Moving on," Marie said. "This mission is high risk but we're going to do everything we can to minimize the risks. Even so, it's going to take most of us because this isn't a regular mission. We're used to recon and raiding, not rescue and infiltration, so we're going to have to be extra careful. The rescuees won't be in the best condition either, most likely tired, malnourished, not in fighting trim. They'll have to be protected, and they won't be fast."
Four made an ugly noise in her throat and whispered, "I hate escort missions in games. This is gonna' be even worse."
Eight had also hated escort missions as a soldier, whether it be a VIP, machine components, or something else, it was probably one of the worst kinds of missions to be on.
As an escort, you had to stay close to your charge, in the open, easily visible, slow, and vulnerable. In contrast, the raiders could pick when and where they wanted to strike, staying unseen until the moment of attack. If they knew the route they were taking, the raiders could set up an ambush, letting an escort group march into a prepared killzone.
It was Callie who spoke up next. "Agent 2 and I will be doing close escort of the prisoners. Agent 3 and 4, we'll be keeping you loose, moving ahead and to the sides to make sure the way is clear."
"Awesome," Eight heard Four whisper.
"And now," Marie said, looking at her phone. "We'll go over the sequence of the plan.
"First, Callie and I will get here early and head out before the captain knows we're here. We'll make sure he can't monitor the area so that'll buy us some time."
Three stood up straighter and crossed her arms. "You are the ones who have been messing with the surveillance systems."
"It's called preparing for the future, Agent 3." She cleared her throat and banished her smug grin before continuing.
"Agent 3 and 4, you will arrive when expected for your joint recon mission at 08:00. By then, Agent 1 and I should have everything ready. You'll get close and likely lose contact with Captain Cuttlefish. We need you to meet up with us by 09:30 at the latest.
"Speed is more important than stealth," Callie said. "So we'll be rushing to the dome and blasting anything in our way. Once we make it down, it'll be pretty much the same. I have a contact that should get us in without trouble.
"From there, Agent 3 and 4, you will take care of the outer sections of the prison complex itself. Clear the walls, guard towers, and quarters. Make sure they can't shut the gates on us too. Agent 2 and I will be clearing out the cellblock and doing the actual rescuing."
Three raised a hand. "Wouldn't it be better for Agent 2 to be outside if she's using a charger? Agent 4's specialty with splatlings would probably make her more ideal for inside work."
Callie opened her mouth to respond but Marie cut her off.
"There's no reason Agent 4 can't use a charger instead. It may not be her specialty but she is more than proficient enough."
Four frowned. The charger was her least favourite weapon. She preferred to get close and move swiftly than stay in one place. Then again, perhaps that was the point. Perhaps Marie was trying to keep Four out of trouble.
Callie cleared her throat, once again taking charge of the briefing. "Once the outside of the prison has been cleared of guards and we have all the prisoners out of their cells, all four of us will escort them to some ruins about halfway between the prison and the exit. There we'll let the prisoners catch their breath and we'll give them some ration bars to give them a little strength for the journey ahead."
Marie spoke up and Eight stiffened when she looked directly into her eyes. "This is about the time where you come in, Agent 8."
Eight gave a slow nod. She wondered why she hadn't been mentioned in the plan yet.
"Shortly after we've begun our attack, we expect you to show up at Cuttlefish Cabin, between 10:00 and 10:30. The captain should be back by then and he'll probably send you to back us up somehow, or something, but mostly, we want you there to guard the cabin and the entrance to Inkopolis."
Eight frowned. "But, why have me arrive so late?"
"Because we don't want you sent to help us," she replied bluntly. "We trust you and you'd be an asset, but we don't want to put you in a position where you'd have to shoot your own people. We don't want you to be seen as a traitor."
'And so we don't accidentally shoot you.' Eight frowned. "I understand what you mean but I am already considered a traitor, a deserter."
"We're hoping that, in the future, it'll be possible for octolings to travel between Inkopolis and the domes peacefully. We're just trying to keep your options open. Besides, I doubt many of the octolings already here would be happy about you shooting at your own kind either."
Eight winced. She couldn't dispute that. Honestly, she didn't want to shoot anyone either. Killing the sanitized octolings in the metro had been bad enough, and they had been little more than brainwashed husks.
"I suppose," she conceded.
"You're there in case we need you," Callie said, her tone far gentler than Marie's. "We're trying to free some Octolings - good ones, and we need your help for that. I'm sure they would respond better if there was one of their own kind here to help them. It would put them at ease. To be honest, if they had seen you fighting alongside us, they might doubt your… impartiality."
So that was the other reason. It made sense but Eight still felt like she was being given special treatment. Still, at least they were involving her at all and protecting the way to Inkopolis and Cuttlefish Cabin while the other agents were away was an important duty.
She glanced sideways towards Three, who continued to stare towards Callie and Marie. Eight hadn't forgotten her worries about accidentally shooting her, an octoling, in the heat of battle, nor had she forgotten that incident where Three had used physical combat against that octoling girl during a tower control match.
I still have to deal with that girl. She'd better show up for the meeting.
"I understand."
"Good," Marie said. "Now, from there, I imagine you'll be dealing with the Captain's anger and frustration after he figures out what we're up to. Try and placate him as best you can and help keep a lookout for trouble. Agent 1 and I will deal with him when we get back."
Eight grimaced. "He'll know I knew about this."
Marie grinned. "Well, then be glad you're only a part-timer.
"Now, getting back to the rescue part, by that time, the local garrisons will probably know that something is going on. We'll need to make sure the elevator is secure so we'll need to…"
And the briefing went on from there. Most of the details being the route they would take back to Cuttlefish Cabin to make it in one piece as well as some of the basic tactics they would be using.
Eight listened, offering her opinion on how the garrisons might react and the tactics they might employ, but overall, she stayed silent for the briefing's remainder. Callie and Marie then ended the briefing by ordering Three and Four off on a final recon mission and telling Eight to ask Marina about using Work Detail to help get the newcomers hidden away for a bit and helped with getting accustomed to Inkopolis life.
After Callie and Marie left for another appointment, Eight stood and anxiously made her way over to Three who was getting her gear ready. The other girl paused and looked up as she approached before averting her gaze slightly.
This was the first time they had seen each other since Wahoo World, and other than a handful of text messages, they hadn't spoken to each other either. It was a bit awkward.
Three glanced in Four's direction- the junior agent's focus was on her phone- then stoically walked up to Eight.
"Are you sure about this?" Eight whispered to her. "The things you told me about before…"
Three flashed green. "As long as you're here and not there, I won't have to worry about accidentally hurting you, so I'll be able to focus on my job."
Eight made an unhappy noise and looked down at her feet. "I still wish I was going with you. This is an important and dangerous mission. I want to be by your side, especially after how your last rescue mission went."
"This time it's different," Three insisted. "We're being careful and that's why we're having you stay here, so you can be backup."
"But it's so far away, I might not be able to reach you in time."
"It'll be fine. I'll have One, Two, and Four with me." She cracked a rare smile. "Besides, this is easy compared to the metro, right?"
Eight couldn't help but smile a little herself at that. "I suppose. I'll still be mad if you get hurt though."
Three flashed grey. "You being mad at me worked well for both of us last time."
Eight giggled. "I suppose it did."
Three leaned a little bit closer, her voice softer. "I actually like that side of you, you know. I feel better knowing you're willing to stand up for yourself, even against me. I'd feel like a bully otherwise."
Eight blushed. "I look forward to learning more about your softer side too."
Now it was Three that blushed, and she turned her head away. "Don't rush me."
Eight giggled again and gave Three a gentle hug. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Alive," Three assured, hugging her back. "I promise."
There was a cough and both girls turned to see Four, all geared up and looking impossibly smug.
"I don't wanna' interrupt, but can we go now?"
Three grumbled something and her mantle flashed through a myriad of colours and patterns faster than Eight could see. Four flashed grey with bright yellow spots in reply, her grin unrelenting as she headed off towards the domes with Three.
Eight giggled to herself and turned to head back to the domes. As she was about to transform and go through the grate, she wondered, where is Captain Cuttlefish now?
Cast in the gentle magenta glow of her command centre, Septain Avrika Betanuss watched the monitor in front of her. Electric fans hummed in the background, keeping the barely operable computers from getting quite hot enough to melt their own components, and circulating the musty air and clouds of dust that had probably been there since before she hatched. Violet eyes stared at the screen with a mix of inquisitiveness and incredulity as the century old inkling hobbled away from the hidden camera.
It seemed almost an insult that such a decrepit old squid was the mastermind behind the Octarian's every military failure over the past fifty years. Even if the Green Demon was the bane of every Octarian soldier's existence, a being spoken in hushed tones of scorn and reverence, it wouldn't have mattered if not for the machinations of that doddering old inkling. The thought caused her to bring her hand up to stroke the small metal pendant that hung from her neck.
"There he goes," a voice mumbled beside her.
Novem Altern Latria stood less than a foot length away. In the tight confines of the command centre, one couldn't be averse to cramped conditions. The younger officer's tentacles curled and twisted slowly as the gears of her mind turned endlessly behind her bright yellow eyes.
"Indeed. Any better idea what he was looking for?"
Latria shrugged her tentacles. "It could have been anything, but the pattern does seem to fit that of the Inkling's activities over the past few weeks." She gestured to a map crudely drawn on a piece of parchment made from fish skin. "They've regularly been seen along the corridor leading to the old domes."
"And there have been no reports of them being sighted within some of the older domes?"
"None," Latria sighed. "Most of those old domes were abandoned and stripped to supply and repair other domes. Even if there are sentries in the area, they're the dregs. Lax and lazy."
"And we've nothing of value in those areas at all? No resource stores, training areas, research stations, nothing?"
"Nothing that isn't classified, Ma'am," Latria replied calmly.
That calm was more than Avrika could have managed in her position. Unlike her, Latria had been stationed in this sector for almost a year, whereas she had only been there mere weeks. As a result, she found herself constantly asking simple questions one would expect the commander of a sector to know. Latria was young for her rank, but that seemed par for the course for frontline officers these days. It didn't help that Avrika was over two years out of practice when it came to the army.
"And no activity worth noting in the past few months?"
Latria shrugged again. "I suppose there were some males who visited some of the abandoned domes to see if one of them could be used for crop production. That's all I can think of. Maybe they're trying to collapse the domes so we can't use them."
Avrika hummed. "I suppose one never can really tell, but they're planning something, a big operation. We only suspected it before but I think we can be sure now."
Latria silently nodded her agreement and then looked back at the screen. "He'll be out of the valley soon. Slow as he is, he does seem to be in a hurry."
Avrika only glanced at the screen to confirm that for herself before peering back down at the map. "I believe that means they'll be acting soon. And, since high command seems to be as rudderless as ever without our Lord of War, then it falls to us to decide what to do about it."
"Yes Ma'am," Latria said softly. "They'll have a minimum of four agents if it's a full assault."
Avrika kept her expression carefully neutral. How depressing was it that a mere four inklings constituted a major operation for the enemy and was still considered a threat? It was enough to make one whimper.
"Could we stop them?" She looked Latria in the eye and the younger officer looked away shamefully. "I thought not."
Avrika turned around and gazed down at the large sector map on the table. It was decades old, yellow and curled at the edges, but its large size was useful in planning the disposition of her forces. Different coloured pieces of stone and concrete were used to indicate the positions of her troops.
They were spread out, part of standing orders from command to maintain surveillance over her sector despite the risk of the Inklings picking apart her forces piece by piece. Not that having them all together would stop them either.
"Not a good situation," she heard Latria mumble beside her.
"No," Avrika agreed. "But, The Wisdoms tell us that we should always endeavour to make the best of a bad situation."
"Perhaps," Latria said. "But so far, all that's happened in almost four months is troops being moved from the inner domes out here. Nice as it is to have the backup, if the inklings get past us it'll just be easier for them to sneak into the inner domes." She sighed. "Maybe if we had those reinforcements now we could actually fight them."
"Indeed." And that was when the kernel of an idea popped in Avrika's brain. "Assuming we need to fight them at all."
Latria frowned and Avrika lifted a finger to explain. "We know we can't stop them; we'd just lose troops for no real gain. If we keep our troops scattered as they are, they'll be picked off. So, what if we concentrated and attacked instead of defending?"
Latria stared at her, eyes wide but those ever turning gears spun behind them.
"But the standing orders-."
"Can be superseded by the commander in charge to respond to an immediately developing situation. Yes, I've checked." She grinned at Latria's surprised expression and then looked back down at the map, bringing her finger down gently to touch a spot that indicated the route leading to Inkopolis.
"The inklings almost always use this route. If we position our troops correctly, we can keep them out of sight. After we see them pass and go into the domes, our hidden troops can strike out and attack their headquarters." She tapped the map then stood up straight with a predator's grin. "If all of the agents are indeed conducting an assault, there will be little, if anything, standing between us and their headquarters."
Latria's eyes focused intensely on the map, finger to her mouth as her tentacles curled sharply.
"It could work; it's been done before, but that could mean the inklings now expect and plan for it."
"Perhaps, but if we do nothing we're doomed either way. At least like this, there's a chance we can get there, break out Octavio (assuming he's still there), wreck their headquarters, and retreat before the other agents return. How long do you think that might take."
Latria bit her lip, her eyes not leaving the map. The full route to Inkopolis wasn't on it but she had served in this sector for years before she reached her current rank. She knew the area and its operations well.
"Assuming we don't try to capture data and assuming we can retrieve Octavio quickly… an hour, depending on where we hide our troops and where we retreat to."
"We'll have to work it out, Avrika said. "Order all Splatoon commanders to convene here ASAP, but keep all of our troops in place; I don't want to spook the inklings." She grinned. "We've got a rescue operation to plan."
Author's Notes:
And now we introduce the other side of the conflict. I actually liked writing the octarian side of this arc and I hope you enjoy Avrika's perspective as much as I do.
Just for clarification: Avrika's rank of Septain is the equivalent to the rank of a Captain in a modern army and she's one rank below Captain Cuttlefish, who is (or was) a Senior Captain in the Inkling army during the war, the equivalent of a modern army Major. Latria's rank of Novem Altern is one rank below Avrika, equivalent to a full lieutenant in a modern army. I wasn't sure how to organically exposit this information in the story itself so I'm putting it here.
Avrika's surname Betanuss literally means "bloodflow" in the Octarian language, but it can also be translated to "river." In ancient times, Octarians considered water to be the blood of the Earth and so rivers were viewed as its literal veins and arteries.