Expect

Sometimes plans go wrong, Mar.
It's always better to have one,
but don't be afraid to improvise.
Raising you alone wasn't in my plan,
But I thank the Great Zapfish every day
I have such a wonderful daughter.

Marie waits in the alley, charger loose in her hands, trying not to fidget. She knows the plan, knows Callie's better off getting the octoslob here, knows coming face-to-face with a primed charger with nowhere to run will be just the way to get it through that octoslob's head that they're serious, she'd better answer their questions, but the waiting is splatting her.

"They wouldn't send anyone but an elite out here," Callie mutters in her ear, "but I doubt she was in combat. She's got no finesse with that roller, avoids everyone on the other team."

"Maybe used to another weapon?" Marie asks. She changes from squid to kid a few times, just to ease her nerves. "If she's adjusting from a shooter or charger..."

Callie shoots her charger at someone in her turf match. "No, not that. If she were trying not to draw attention to herself, she'd get one or two splats each match. This is more like she's trying to avoid any combat. Completely unlike anything we've seen or Gramps can advise us on."

Marie groans and pulls out her phone. "I'll make a note." Combat-averse octoslobs, what will they think of next?

But making the note doesn't take long, and she's almost reduced to pacing when she hears Callie's voice again. "You're a bit cautious for a roller player, huh? You're strong, fast; you could've just mown us all over. Splat!" Callie must be talking to the Octoslob, not Marie. That means they're on their way out.

Marie takes a deep breath and releases it, inks a small splotch on the ground just big enough to stand in, and makes sure her tank is full.

"I don't want to actually hurt anyone." Marie recognizes the voice. The octoslob sounds different when she's not singing, but still recognizable. Still, what a strange thing for an octoslob to say.

"No one wants to really hurt anyone, but splat battles don't really do anything. It just kinda stings a little." Cod, Callie is so much better at this than she'd be. By this point, Marie'd be a tongue-tied awkward mess; she doesn't know how Callie can stay so calm. "I use roller myself, mostly. It's just so much fun, waving that thing around!"

There's a moment's silence. Marie checks that everything is ready, including Callie's roller, where she can grab it and guard the octoslob's exit. "Were you on the other team?"

"Yeah. My cousin and I were on opposite sides last splatfest, and I lost. We had a bet. I can only use a charger until the next one."

Did—did the octoslob just laugh? "Really, now." Marie has to find out if she had any real reaction.

Later. "Yeah. I had you in my sights a couple times but you never came close enough." Marie can hear Callie's voice for real now, not just through the headphones. They're close. She starts charging her charger. "It was nicely done, though. Want to get some food? My treat!"

"What's the catch?"

Full charge.

There's movement at the entrance to the alley, a small yelp, and the octoslob hits the ground hard. She rolls like a veteran but Marie's already got the charger aimed, and when the octoslob stops moving Marie's charger is close enough to touch her goggles. She stares at Marie with wide eyes, mouth partway open, on one knee with the other hand half-off the ground. "Just some curiosity." Marie focuses hard to keep her voice from shaking. She needs to sound polite and detached—an interrogation, but hopefully not torture. "We'd love to know what an Octoling is doing in Inkopolis. Care to explain?"

The gi—the octoslob gasps raggedly. Callie's right behind her, roller at the ready, and Marie feels better... except she doesn't. Not with a girl—an enemy on hands and knees in front of her, a single tear making a track through the mud. "I-" she says, her voice ragged, and swallows so hard Marie can see it from here. "I-"

The gi—the octoslob can't seem to get out another word. Marie almost growls. She has to do something, intimidating, something to—the goggles on the girl's forehead are already broken, lenses shattered, though the strap is secure. Marie recognizes the design as standard-issue Octarian, something every soldier wears. Marie jerks her charger so it catches on the nose-piece and pulls, hard and fast, making them snap off her head. They fly behind Marie and hit the wall there.

"You what?" Marie says, putting venom in her voice she doesn't feel with the girl so pathetic in front of her. "Make it good, Octoslob."

The girl squeezes her eyes shut. "Ju-just make it quick."

Marie almost drops her charger. She looks away from the girl, back at Callie, because this wasn't what was supposed to happen. The girl was supposed to snarl back a curse or an insult, and Callie nudge her feet with her roller, making her panic until she gave up an accidental nugget of gold; Maybe Marie would have to release a shot into her shoulder to keep her from trying to fight them and escape. Or she would start babbling excuses, pretend not to know what they were talking about, in a put-upon panic that would tell them just as much about what the girl was doing and why.

She's not supposed to be just another teenager, young and scared, crying in the mud and asking her to make it fast.

"There will be no need to splat you, if you answer our questions." Oh, thank Cod for Callie. She can do this, even if Marie can't.

The girl shakes with a sob and opens her eyes; she lifts one muddy hand to wipe a tear, but stops herself, eyes on Marie's charger. "Like I believe that." Her shoulders jerk; another tear slips out. "If an inkling showed up in the domes, and I didn't deal with it? I'd be splatted myself, no hope for respawn, and they'd make it last." She gasps once, raggedly, as Marie's stomach drops. She can't look away. "But I—I can't go back. They'll just make it take longer. So just—get it over with." She closes her eyes and pulls her head in close to her shoulders, her hands tightening into fists in the mud.

This isn't how it's supposed to go.

Marie and Callie were supposed to be the heroes. Not...

"Were you expecting this, 2?" asks Callie.

Marie swallows the lump in her throat and takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look away from the girl. Her goggles are still on the ground, her headphones knocked off at some point as well, but the goggles are the only thing on her not native to Inkopolis. "I think we need to try a different tact," she says, and squids quickly to get rid of her weapon's charge.

Callie leaves through the front, and Marie grabs the goggles off the ground before she climbs the fire escape, silent as slow swimming. She stays up there, watching the girl, her heart in her throat.

She didn't think the Octarian Army had defectors, but after today, she's willing to believe it.

"Now what do we do?" she asks, over the radio.

Callie's so silent on the other end, at first Marie's afraid she didn't hear. "Well," Callie says at last, "before Pearl left, they were discussing how they'd be on different teams next splatfest."