When Callie told Four that she would be taken off patrols for a while and sent to help Work Detail she hadn't known what to expect, but none of her speculation had prepared her for this.

Half a dozen priestesses and acolytes stood in supervisory positions around a large knot of about thirty inkling boys and girls between twelve and sixteen, all sitting on the floor mats the octolings typically used for sparring and martial arts practice. Four had been told they were orphans, but she had no idea what they would be doing here.

Inkling society, even as far as many said it had fallen, wasn't known for producing many orphans. Inkling females were well known – infamous even, for their powerful maternal instincts. A mother would normally rather die than abandon her child unless she thought it was the best way to keep them well. Even then, she'd heard it was like trying to rip out one of your own hearts. So, it was extremely rare that a child was abandoned for any reason. More commonly, it was cases of parents simply not being able to care for the child and having to give them up for their own good; cases of parents dying, or, more rarely, neglect, which was considered a heinous crime.

Four thought that, in a way, the octolings of Work Detail were just like those orphans. None had seen their mothers since they were toddlers and had probably never known their fathers. Maybe that was why Callie had organized this thing; although, what was to come of it, she wasn't sure yet.

One by one, each orphan had been called to one of the ground floor rooms for interviews. That had been going on all morning. A catered lunch of sandwiches had been provided for lunch, and afterwards, the last few interviews had been done before the senior officers of Work Detail assembled behind closed doors. For what, Four again wasn't sure. In the meantime, she and everyone else was forced to wait.

"Is this what happens to inklings without parents?"

Vella spoke from her own spot on the floor next to Four, her tentacles swayed and curled with thought as she observed the collection of orphans with clinical interest, as if observing the behavior of ants.

"Pretty much. It rarely happens though. I think this many is pretty good for a city as big as inkopolis. At least, compared to most species."

"And just what do they do while they are orphaned?"

Four pulsed grey then belatedly remembered to physically shrug for Vella's benefit. "Dunno, you'd have to ask them. Never really thought about what being an orphan in the hall was like. When kids lose their parents, they're usually taken in by relatives or members of their shoal. If they're old enough, they'll live on their own while their shoal keeps an eye on them."

"So then, this is the akrit of your society, the ones nobody wants."

Four gritted her beak to hold a biting retort. Akrit meant "refuse" and "garbage" but was often used in the Octarian Army to refer to people that nobody wanted to deal with, for one reason or another, usually either malcontents or simply the incompetent.

"That's not fair. Those kids have been through a lot."

"So has everyone else," Vella said frankly. "They will get no sympathy from me."

Four couldn't bring herself to rebuke her there, even internally. After all, even those unfortunate orphans had likely enjoyed better lives than the average Octarian. Maybe one of the whole points of this exercise was to help the orphans realize how good they actually had it. But then she tried to imagine someone telling Three that after her mother had died and the scenario didn't play out well. Perhaps that wasn't the best comparison. Three still had two parents, after all.

Not that it makes losing your mom hurt any less.

The sound of familiar footsteps caused Four to turn her head as Callie stopped beside her, wearing a magenta jacket that was just a bit too small for her, dark sunglasses, and a pink toque.

Four giggled. "Reminds me of school whenever we had some kind of special guest that would come in that we kids would get all excited about and then they'd tell us some encouraging words."

Callie responded with a little laugh of her own. "Yeah, I remember those. Not a lot of them come out to the country though."

"Tell me about it. Nice to be remembered at all."

Callie's mantle subtly flashed green. "I hope those kids feel the same way. There are some octolings here the same age as them so I'm hoping they can all make a few new friends."

Four looked at her questioningly. "How? Field trip?"

Callie grinned. "Something like that."

"And I'm here instead of Three because…."

Callie's smile didn't waver. "You'll see."

Eventually, the officers returned from their meeting. Kifi, effectively the leader of Work Detail, held a clipboard. She met Four's eyes and gave her a small smile before she just as quickly returned to business.

"I guess I'd better get the rock rolling," Callie said, removing her toque and glasses. "Pay attention, Four."

She handed her the glasses and toque then strolled towards the waiting cluster of children. Without the disguise, they recognized her immediately. Gasps, followed by excitement filled the warehouse as she approached, smiling and waving just like she did on that talk show.

"Hey, kids," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly above the noise. "As I'm sure many of you know, I'm Callie from the Squid Sisters. I wanted to thank you for coming and to give you a little intro to what's going to happen here.

"This is Work Detail." She made a grand, sweeping gesture at the warehouse around them. "This place used to be a total dump, but through a lot of hard work and clever thinking, it's now a proper warehouse. What's it for? Well, it's like a base of operations for the girls here," she directed their attention to the assembled octolings.

"They came to Inkopolis without a home, without money, with nothing more than the shirts on their backs, the skills they learned growing up, and their comrades. Despite all that, they still made it. Now, I want to give you all the opportunity to learn from them, learn not just the value of working hard, but working smarter." She let the words sink in a moment before she continued.

"Basically, you'll be working as part of Work Detail, learning skills along the way. If you do a good enough job, you'll eventually start earning pay too. Trust me, this kind of thing looks good on your resumé. Believe it or not, I had to start from the bottom too, working twelve-hour shifts packing cardboard boxes at Walleye Warehouse. I'm hoping to spare you that suffering." Pulsing grey, she took a few steps closer to the group. "So, what are your names?"

As each kid spoke their name in turn, Four observed them. Part of her training had involved picking out people in groups. She could still remember hiding in the dark shadow of a scaffold, watching groups of octolings, Marie speaking quietly through her headphones and teaching her which ones would be more dangerous and which would be easy prey; teaching her how to be a predator. Already, she was starting to pick out the ones who didn't belong, the ones who would be most likely to stray from the group and be an easy target.

Four shuddered and shook her head, eyes shut tight, trying to will away the sober memory of the first octoling she had ever killed.

These weren't enemy soldiers, they were kids just like her, fellow inklings, and yet, she could so easily identify which ones would end up alone. They were the ones who would answer Callie without enthusiasm, who wouldn't meet her gaze, or reply with some kind of challenging tone. Was that what Callie had wanted her to keep an eye out for? If so, why? Were they a threat? What was she supposed to do about them?"

The return of Callie's cheery voice snapped Four from her thoughts. "Now, I'll hand it over to Kifi. That'll be 'Boss' to you though." She winked and then made her way back towards Four and Vella as Kifi took over.

"Alright, as Callie said, I'm Captain Kifi, and I'm effectively in charge of Work Detail. I'll be organizing you into squads and you will each serve under a squad commander. To start with, you'll be assisting other squads with work, but as you develop your skills you will be trusted to do your own. We hope that by breaking you down this way, we can more quickly identify your skills and talents and make better use of them while also improving and honing them as best as possible. Now, when I call your name, you will go to the section I name on the wall. That will be the name of your squad."

As Kifi started listing off names and the kids got up one at a time to go to their designated place along the wall, Four turned her attention to Callie.

"So… that's why the orphans are here? We're giving them jobs?"

"Why not?" Callie peered down at her with a wry grin. "Work Detail gets the boost it needs in its labour force to keep up with demand, the kids learn valuable skills and a lot of the good life lessons the Octarians can teach them."

Vella grinned cockily. "You are wise to do so. Our philosophy has allowed us to survive where other civilizations would have withered and died."

Four's mantle rippled a dark orange but Callie just giggled. "Well, no reason we can't learn from each other, right?" She ruffled Vella's tentacles and the young octoling roughly pushed her hand away, indignant.

"But why am I here?" Four asked. "Were you afraid Three would make the kiddies cry or something?"

Callie smirked. "No. Part of it was because I figured Three could use a break from babysitting two cranky yun'brennen celebrities," then a nefarious gleam appeared in her eyes as she looked down at Four. "And I have plans for you."

Now that sounded ominous.

Kifi got all the orphans organized in minutes and then she began assigning squad leaders. One at a time, the leaders approached their new inkling squads, hiding their trepidation well. Four could just barely see it in some of them. Taking care of inklings for the first time, she could imagine that would be rather intimidating. They certainly wouldn't respond like octarians.

Most of the squads were then bolstered by other octolings about the same age, the handful of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds that had managed to escape the army. One squad, however, had received neither a leader or extras. Four's uneasy feeling got worse.

Kifi then turned to look directly at her. "Ms. Hightwater, since we appear to be short, you will take command of Cricket Squad."

It took Four a moment to realize Kifi was talking to her. Neither she nor any other Octoling had ever referred to her by her real name. Once the realization came, Four's stomach fell. Were they really expecting her to lead a squad of orphans on jobs? She had never worked a job with Work Detail before, and even if she had, why were they making her a squad leader? What were they expected to learn from her?"

"Look at that," Callie said, her voice mimicking surprise and ignorance perfectly as she put her hands on Four's shoulders. "Congrats, squad leader."

Four uttered a groan, her mantle turning brown, but Callie lightly smacked her on the cheek. "None of that," she said in a quiet yet stern tone. "You're a leader; you have to be an example now, so you better act like you want this." She gave her a small shove forward.

Kifi regarded the exchange with a soft smile of her own, then turned serious again as she looked at the half-smirking Vella.

"Trooper Stormhook, you'll be joining her. You'll be attached to Cricket Squad for the foreseeable future."

Vella gaped. "What? Work with… with all those inklings? But I–."

"Problem with earning your keep, soldier?"

Vella snapped to attention and barked a "No, Ma'am," purely by reflex, one Four knew had been ingrained into her years ago.

"You have your orders. I expect you to obey them."

Vella seemed to suddenly remember herself and then her eyes narrowed in a kind of defiant glare at Kifi and Four unconsciously bit her lower lip to see what would happen.

"The army isn't here," Kifi said, her tone gentle but unyielding. "We are here, and while you are with us you will follow our rules and our lead. I thought that had already been made clear to you."

Vella continued to stare back, determined to remain defiant. Eventually; however, Kifi's gaze overpowered hers and the younger octoling's eyes fell to the floor.

Four sensed that they were dismissed and so started walking towards her new charges, making a point not to look back at Callie and try not to think about how bitter she was about being forced into something like this with no chance to prepare. She had never led anyone before; how was she supposed to do that now?

Forcing her mantle to it's natural orange and yellow, she sized up the squad members – her squad members. Right away, she could tell why they'd given this squad over to the inkling squad leader.

The first one was a boy with dark-green eyes and tentacles. As he leaned against the back wall he reminded Four of an irate type of crab, the kind that would fight or threaten to fight anything that came near it. She could see it in the way he tensed as he saw them approach and gave them a challenging look.

Next to him was a girl with a piece of her indigo mantle partially covering her left eye. Both tentacles were just a little bit longer and thinner than Four's and tied up behind her head. She seemed to scoff at Four and Vella both, rippling derision. It made Four glad Vella didn't understand tuk'yan.

Next to her was a much taller boy. He looked older than Four, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. He was neither smiling or frowning, like someone who wasn't entirely sure what to make of their situation. Reasonable. He watched them approach but didn't express himself in any way, keeping his bright-green mantle even and calm.

Finally, standing way off to the side was another girl with four long, dark-blue tentacles. This one looked to be about the same age as her and the other girl, maybe a year older at most. Unlike the other orphans which all wore donated shirts, pants, shorts, and the like, (nothing at all personalized), this girl wore a simple green tunic styled a lot like those temple acolytes wore. Was she trying to be an acolyte? A girl had to be at least 16 to start that training. She might have looked that age had she not been shrunken into herself.

Four stood in front of the group and forced herself to smile as brightly as possible. "Hey there, Cricket Squad. I'm going to be your squad leader. Nice to meet all of you."

The indigo girl flashed burgundy, the equivalent of an eye roll in tuk'yan, but spoke nothing. The light-green boy lifted his wrist in a kind of wave, the dark-green boy only glared at her. The dark-blue girl bowed her head but then looked quickly away.

Wow, this is going great so far. Four thought sarcastically.

She glanced at Vella who drifted to the wall then turned to face the front, standing at attention, as if to somehow distinguish herself more from the rest of the squad, despite being the only octoling. The others just gave her strange looks.

"Anyway, I'm Tani. What are your names?"

The indigo girl continued to ignore her, but the light-green boy's mantle cooled slightly.

"Gangrin," he said.

Four flashed a pleasant wave of green and yellow then moved onto the dark-green boy.

"Marsh" he replied sourly.

The girl standing far away from the rest, bowed her head again and responded with a barely audible "Tephilla."

"Tephilla," Four echoed. "What are you doing all the way over there? Come closer. It's not like we're gonna' bite."

"She might." Gangrin gestured to the indigo girl, who glared at him but didn't outright deny the accusation.

She actually reminded Four of Katrina, in many ways. Stubborn, proud, not particularly social, but that was just how Katrina was. Indigo just seemed to have a chip on her shoulder.

"Well, I gotta' call you something," Four said. "So I'll just call you 'Prune' for now."

Gangrin snickered while Marsh arched an eyebrow, his mantle dulling with a hint of challenge in his eyes. The newly minted, Prune, snapped her head to look at her, a mix of shock and anger in her eyes and mantle.

"Muhnamenuhprune!" Was what Four heard come out of her mouth. Was that Inklish?

Seeing her obvious confusion, Gangrin chuckled. "She's from Xapheerell Ward. They all talk like that. Took me months to start understanding her." He gave "Prune" a mocking smile and she glared at him in return.

"What's your real name then?" Four asked. "You're gonna' have to tell me, otherwise, I'll have to keep calling you Prune."

The girl glared at her, her mantle darkening and red blotches appearing throughout. Four could also see Marsh glaring at her from the corner of her vision, but she ignored him for now.

"Miazama," she finally said, and then looked away, displaying black spots.

"Miazama? That's a pretty name." No response.

Then came the sound of a loud whistle, interrupting all conversation within the warehouse. Kifi let the whistle fall and then gestured to the exit doors. "Everyone line up and prepare to board the buses. We're going to the work site. We have work to be completed before the evening and we must get all the new recruits back to the temple on time."

"Where are we going?" Tephilla asked, worriedly. "Are the priestesses coming with us?"

"Probably not," Four said. "One of the whole reasons for this was to give you all some independence, right?"

Tephilla's mantle and complexion paled, and she suddenly became rooted in place. Four smiled and gently took her hand. "Don't worry, there's nothing to be afraid of." She gave Tephilla a gentle tug but had to pull her hard to get her to move. There was no time to argue. She could talk with her on the bus if needed.

Tephilla – or "Tephy" as Four was already calling her, wasn't the type to do much talking. Even as Four tried to be as friendly as possible, she remained withdrawn, staring out at the world passing by them as the bus took them to another part of the city. Nobody else in her squad seemed particularly eager to chat either.

She was able to learn a few things, however. Tephy had been in the temple most of her life and Four guessed she aspired to become a priestess herself, judging by her attire. Gangrin, like most inklings their age, was interested in turf war and wanted to become a pro. Marsh and Miazama had all but refused to speak. The former sat on the same seat as Gangrin while the latter sat with Vella. This squad really wasn't off to a good start but it was Four's job to make it work… somehow.

The work site looked to be an old industrial complex that looked like it had been built during the war or shortly afterwards. Its muntin windows were badly perforated, leaving only a handful of intact squares.

After leaving the bus, everyone formed up by squads. Most of the orphans still looked confused, unsure of what was going on until Kifi began giving them each their assignments to be completed before the end of the day.

Most of the squads had been given multiple tasks, but Cricket received only one.

"They seriously expect us to do this?"

They all stared at the large puddle of ooze in front of them, occupying a low point of the interior of one of the buildings. At one point, a container must have broken and spilled its contents in that area and never been cleaned up.

"It's not so bad," Four insisted, looking at Gangrin directly. "Sure, it looks like a lot but it's only one job, which means we'll probably still be done before everyone else. Besides, they gave us boots to wear instead of our shoes. Just try not to get any on your clothes."

"Should children really be handling dangerous things like this?" Tephy kept her distance from the ooze, holding her shovel in front of her as if trying to keep the ooze at bay.

Vella let out an exasperated groan and casually stepped into the muck as if it were no more hostile than snow. "Barring one or two exceptions, it seems all inklings know how to do is complain."

The others frowned at this. Four was used to such talk so she'd forgotten to consider how some of Vella's comments might come off to the newcomers.

"Funny, thing coming from the losers," Marsh said as he stepped into the ooze next to her and began shoveling the ooze into one of the wheeled plastic bins they'd been given.

Vella bristled at this and glared at him. "We lost to a previous generation. The current one, I think it's pretty obvious we could beat easily."

They were facing each other now, glaring into each other's eyes even as their shovels scrapped the concrete.

"Pretty sure if you were able to fight you wouldn't all be refugees or whatever."

Vella's eyes narrowed. "I am not a refugee. I was assigned here and I am in this squad to compensate for the fact that nobody else knows how to work."

"Vella," Four said in a friendly warning tone. "The whole reason they're here is to learn how to work. We're supposed to be teaching them."

"It's flinging goop with a shovel," Marsh said, working his tool angrily. "It's not hard."

Four hopped to the side, out of the way of some of the flinging goop. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you're supposed to get it in the bin. Otherwise we'll be doing double the work. Work smarter, not harder, remember?"

Miazama snorted. "Smart be inta' the winfo'im."

Four blinked. She understood a few words of that, but it was clear that whatever odd dialect she was using was going to take some time for her to understand. She was confident she could guess the jist of what she said though.

"Let's just get started. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go. We do a good job, then they'll give us something better to do next time."

Three stepped into the ooze, which felt like stepping into what she imagined petrified ketchup would feel like. It smelled terrible now that they were breaking it apart with the shovels and it was sticky. Stepping carelessly would result in a fall.

The others reluctantly followed her, none of them happy. Work thus proceeded at a painfully slow pace, and Four found herself continuously looking at her watch as time went on.

Ironically, it was Vella and Marsh's ceaseless arguing that kept them going. They watched and listened as the two traded barbs, individually keeping score.

"Your species has to be poked with sticks to reproduce. I've heard how much your numbers are going down."

"Because we had to keep our numbers low after the war because resources were so scarce."

"That was a century ago. Maybe if you knew how to work and did not have to rely on all the other species, you would have recovered sooner."

"If you knew how to fight, you wouldn't have lost the war."

"I can fight just fine! Want me to show you, little inkling?"

"I'll fight you any time!"

Every round of arguing would basically end that way and Four would sometimes have to break it up at that point or they actually would start fighting. She couldn't let that happen.

For all their arguing though, they did get a lot of work done, more than the rest of the squad combined, really. They moved with the deliberation of sleepwalkers and the attitude of forced labourers. She tried to engage them in conversation between Vella and Marsh's bouts, but she was met only with cold indifference. None of them were interested in talking to her. Even Gangrin, who seemed to be the most mild member, became more irritated and temperamental as the work went on.

Eventually, they did manage to get the sludge cleaned up. Morale seemed to go up for a moment, believing their labour was over, but it was not to be. When Four informed them they had to scrub the floor clean with the brushes they'd brought with them, all, sans Vella and Tephy had glared at her, but even the latter had clearly been unhappy and uttered a quiet, "I shouldn't be here."

"Come on," Four said, sounding cheerful. "We're almost done. We just have to scrub the floor."

"We cleaned up the goop," Gangrin protested. "That's what we were told to do and we did it. We don't have to do any more."

"But there's still the residue. That's what they gave us those scrub brushes for. Come on, it's just–."

Miazama flashed black and red spots at her, then turned around and walked away. Marsh and Gangrin followed in her wake. Four could do nothing but watch them go, failure weighing her down like a heavy blanket.

"Let them go," Vella said, already scrubbing the floor. "They would only inhibit us further. We can still complete our assignment. That's what matters most."

Four bit her lower lip. "But I'm responsible for them. I can't just let them wander off."

"If something happens to them, it's what they deserve." Vella smacked the brush against the floor angrily, and muttered something bitterly under her breath in Octese.

Four stared at Tephy, who was just standing there, looking in the direction the others had gone. She seemed to sense Four's eyes on her and they stared at each other.

Four wondered how pathetic she looked. Her mantle was gloomy, that much was obvious and she couldn't think of any fancy, inspiring words to say like they did in the movies. Eventually though, she picked up a brush, dunked it in the soap bucket and joined them.

Four flashed her a thanks but she didn't return it, she just quietly scrubbed, mumbling only a single phrase that must have slipped out by accident.

"I shouldn't be with them."

Four wasn't quite sure what she meant by that but she dared not bring it up. The last thing she needed was another of her squad walking out on her. Some squad leader she'd turned out to be. Why did Callie think she could do this? She hoped Four was doing better with her patrols.

She huffed to herself. Of course she's doing better, she's Three.

Three stifled a yawn as she approached Cuttlefish Cabin. Callie had fixed a huge dinner and she had indulged a bit too much, leaving her feeling a little bit lethargic. Three and Marie both shared the trait that overeating made them drowsy; although, overeating seemed impossible for the Squid Sisters these days.

This was going to be her third winter in the NSS. Patrols in the winter were often unpleasant and if it got cold enough it would freeze the ink in her weapon, making it useless. The Octarians rarely went out during the winter months, in her experience, but that was before they had established a surface outpost.

Three went inside the cabin and headed straight to her locker. She removed her bodyguard's uniform and donned the black jacket and reflective vest of Agent 3. She kept the pants though, considering the weather.

As she strapped on her ink tank she wondered why Captain Cuttlefish hadn't addressed her yet. He would always brief her as she got ready, filling her in on the latest developments and movements of the Octarians. She grabbed her Hero Shot and headphones then started poking around the small cabin.

He wasn't in his usual spot in front of the monitors or bulletin board, which was odd. The bathroom was unoccupied as well. It wasn't until she reached the living area that she found him, lying peacefully on his side.

Three smiled. Callie and Marie had been saying the captain had been pushing himself lately and Four had reported him being unusually tired. She should probably let him rest. After all, with things as they were, she could easily handle a simple patrol by herself. So, she put on her headset, checked her gear one last time and headed back out into the cold.

Avrika did her best to hide her restlessness as she conducted yet another inspection of the outpost. After almost a week of waiting for a response, she was starting to think a response from the inklings might not come. She had also become convinced that it was her fault. She had known Captain Cuttlefish was not sympathetic to Octolings that had not defected, yet she'd given him the letter anyway. She had used Octarian logic to justify her decision at the time, neglecting the obvious fact he was not an Octarian.

She had seen Agent 4 on patrol a number of times, but tracking her was difficult. Even so, she hoped she would come to them carrying a response to the Ravalda's message. But they would see her begin her patrol, and then lose track of her completely until she returned to the incline separating their territories. The troops were starting to refer to it as the "Demon's Gate."

Avrika did her best to hide her frustration and helplessness as she continued her walk about. Facing the terrible cold gave her something more immediate to worry about.

As she'd waited, she used what few things she had learned during her captivity in Inkopolis about preparing for winter, and ordered the troops to use tightly bound clumps of grass and dirt to plug up holes and gaps in the handful of makeshift buildings to keep the cold out as much as possible. Unfortunately, she had yet to come up with anything that could work as insulation to make the barracks any warmer and the command centre was simply too small for all her troops at once.

Some of the off duty troops were huddled by one of the command centre's exhaust vents, letting the heat from within keep them warm as they played Tappers, a game involving crudely cut stones the troops made themselves, with numbers etched into each side based on the likelihood of it landing on that side. The side least likely to be landed on would be marked as a 1, and then upwards from there.

The game worked by selecting a number of dice from the entire collection, usually three or five, and then lightly tossing them onto the ground. The numbers on whichever sides were landed on would be added up and added to the players total. At the end of however many rounds would be played, the totals were added up and whoever had the lowest score, won.

Avrika remembered playing it often as a young trooper and NCO, but after becoming an officer, she spent more time dealing with army bureaucracy and rare moments of free time were more often spent mingling with fellow officers. She dearly missed those simpler days.

As Avrika approached the command centre, the troopers started to stand, but she waved them back down. She didn't want to interrupt their game and it was better they were kept distracted.

Entering the command centre, a wave of heat splashed over her and created a burst of vapour in the cold air until she closed the door again. The air inside was hot and stuffy, but it was generally preferable to the chilly conditions outside.

Latria turned to face her and came to attention. "Ma'am."

"Altern, anything to report?" She couldn't help the weariness that crept into her voice when she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am". Her voice held a mix of anxiousness and excitement. "We have just spotted Agent 3 starting patrol."

Suddenly very alert, Avrika gently brushed past Latria and stared up at the monitors where it showed the young inkling just reaching the bottom of the eponymous Demon's Gate, wearing warm-looking clothing that the Octarians could only envy.

Avrika envied her warmer looking clothing. She couldn't simply stay in her base this time, she needed to act. There was too much at stake and she had waited too long already.

"Hold things down here, Altern Steelarm. I'm going out."

Latria frowned at her. "Ma'am, are you going out to intercept her?"

"That's the plan. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to talk to her and find out what's going on."

The look Latria gave her made it clear she wanted to protest, but she too knew what was at stake and Avrika was her superior, with orders of her own to follow.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. I should be back soon."

Avrika then promptly left the command centre, stepping back out into the bitter cold and making her way, briskly across the compound and out the perimeter gate into the ruins beyond.

Avrika walked along what had once been the main thoroughfare through the town, a broad highway that connected the town to other cities in Octarian territory and another very old highway linking it to Inkopolis itself. Despite how much rubble was strewn around, there wasn't much cover, but that wasn't the point: Avrika wanted to be seen. Agent 3 would not allow herself to be caught, so the only thing she could do was hope Agent 3 would see her first and come to investigate.

"Stop."

The voice was short, sharp, and direct. Avrika froze instantly, the physical cold forgotten as she raised her hands in surrender.

"Turn around, slowly."

Avrika obeyed, turning slowly around until she was facing directly with Agent 3.

Unlike everyone else she had spoken to, Avrika could never see Agent 3 purely as the "Green Demon," she was too fresh from the core domes where she had spent three years preparing for and raising her children. As a mother, she couldn't help but see the child that was still in her. Young, impressionable, painfully vulnerable. Even in those hard green eyes that looked directly into her own and behind the barrel of her ink weapon, she saw that vulnerability.

"I was hoping you would find me. I wanted to talk with one of you."

Agent 3 frowned, glancing around warily even as she kept her weapon pointed at her. Her mantle changed to a dark yellow colour with rippling red. Did she not recognize her?

"Why?"

"I wanted to make sure you received our message: the letter from the Ravalda Imperium. It was a response to your message about the possibility of reopening diplomatic talks."

Agent 3's eyes narrowed. "I didn't hear about receiving any message."

Avrika cringed. She had been right.

"I gave it to Captain Cuttlefish."

Agent 3's eyes opened slightly wider and her mantle rippled again, obviously a sign of discomfort. For her to show even that much emotion, she must have been very distressed indeed.

"I see," she said eventually. "Fine, I'll find out what happened. If I find the message, we'll deliver a response as soon as we can."

"Thank you. We did deliver it almost a week ago and I've been getting increasingly urgent messages from the Ravalda asking if we had gotten a reply yet."

"Understood. I'll see what I can do. Anything else?"

"No, that is all."

"Fine then." Three motioned her along, back the way she had come. It seemed she was being let go.

"Vella's well, by the way," Agent 3 said suddenly.

"Vella? Oh, yes." Avrika had so much on her mind the last few days she had barely time to spare thinking about Vella. She felt guilty about that. "I'm glad to hear she's doing well. I hope to see her again soon."

"She's very defensive and serious, even around other octolings. Most who come to Inkopolis embrace having fun and have a lot of passion, but she seems to be resisting the idea of fun. It's making her sister worried."

She was speaking of Hachiko Turfer - or Agent 8 as the inklings knew her.

Honestly, the idea of having fun had been somewhat foreign to Avrika as well until she became eggnant. At that time she played simple games with her nurses and other mothers to occupy her mind. Vella being so resistant to leisure probably wasn't a good thing but she could understand why she would be doing it.

"Most of the octolings you know deserted of their own free will and came to Inkopolis because they already wanted to embrace what it offered and severed their ties with the rest of us. Vella is different. Having fun with you and the other octolings there is closer to associating with the enemy or with criminals. Regardless of what Inkopolis offers her, it's clear she has a strong sense of loyalty. She hasn't disregarded her past life like the others have."

This time Agent 3's entire mantle turned blue with those same ripples from earlier barely noticeable against the slightly darker shade.

"Noted."

Avrika took that as her cue to leave. Agent 3 didn't seem the type for small talk and, honestly, there wasn't anything else to say.

"Well then, I'll await your response." And with that, she left and headed back to the base, happy to have survived, happy to have heard about Vella, and happy to have perhaps corrected one of her mistakes. She hoped it would be enough. She hoped and prayed.

Three skipped the rest of her patrol. Time was of the essence and she needed to get back before Captain Cuttlefish woke up.

The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon and the temperature was already falling. Three was glad she had worn pants.

She ran up the gap in the escarpment and sprinted the remaining distance to the cabin. She heard no sounds inside and she didn't see any movement through the windows. The little bit of scouting gave time for her hearts and breathing to calm down, which was important for being stealthy.

The cabin door creaked loudly when it opened. This was by design, letting anyone inside know that someone was coming in. For Three, this posed the biggest obstacle but a mostly unavoidable one. Fortunately, she had been going through that door for over two years and had learned some of its quirks.

Rather than opening the door slowly, she jerked it a short distance, the door only able to utter a brief squeak. Then, she switched to squid form and slid through the tiny gap, reforming on the other side.

Again, she heard no sounds, no sign of movement or action, but that didn't mean there wasn't any. The captain may have been old but he still knew plenty of tricks.

Shutting the door the rest of the way, Three crept along the floor, avoiding the creakiest floorboards as she peeked into the Cabin's living area, where she found Captain Cuttlefish lying in the same position he had been in when she'd left. She couldn't quite tell if he was actually asleep but it would have to do.

Now, where would he put a document he wanted to hide or get rid of?

She started with the piles of papers around the bulletin board, then moved onto the map board and then the monitoring station. Captain Cuttlefish was not a particularly clean individual, something Marie and her mother had groused about on multiple occasions, so it was slow going sifting through the stacks and clumps of papers strewn throughout the cabin. The only clues she had to go off of was when the message had been received and that Octarian paper didn't look like the paper Three would find in most Inkopolis stores.

Octarian paper was usually made from recycled bits of certain crops and was darker and more rough than the mass produced sheets made in most of the world. She hoped that would be enough for it to stand out.

Eventually, she came to the overflowing wastebasket and began picking through crumpled up papers, trying to be as quiet as possible. She was about halfway to the bottom when she found it, a tightly crumpled piece of tan paper.

Three grabbed the sheet and very carefully uncrumpled it, revealing a single page letter written in Octese and in a very pretty cursive form. Although she wasn't as familiar with the fancier lettering or more flowery language, she understood enough to tell, with complete certainty, that this was the letter the Octarians had sent. She needed to get it to Callie and Marie immediately.

Three went to her locker and retrieved her phone. There was a single message from Marie telling her to check that gramps was taking care of himself.

Obviously he hasn't, Three thought as she changed back into her bodyguard uniform. Otherwise he wouldn't have worked himself to exhaustion.

Three stiffened as a very uneasy feeling came over her. Captain Cuttlefish never slept like this, not when a patrol was due. Callie and Marie normally had to threaten him somehow to get him to so much as take a break, never mind a nap. For him to sleep through so much activity when even a small disruption would normally wake him, a product of his wartime experience, yet, he hadn't moved since she arrived, hadn't moved since she had left him at the start of her patrol.

Three stuffed the letter into her jacket and hurried back to the living area, stealth no longer a concern. Again, the captain didn't move. Three's worry spiked.

Three knelt down next to him and leaned in close. She couldn't hear him breathing. Panic swelled within her, memories of her mother's limp and bleeding body flashed in front of her eyes like a malevolent spectre. She put a hand to his chest and felt a pulse, but it was weak.

Relief flooded her, helping quash the panic, and the training took over. Okay, he was alive and breathing fine; now what did she do? She needed to get him to a hospital, but that would mean bringing him back to Inkopolis first. An ambulance couldn't reach them there.

Three carefully picked him up, his body limp as a damp rag. Inklings partially relied on blood pressure to maintain the solidity of their boneless bodies. His blood pressure had to be dangerously low, as his arms and legs had virtually no support to them whatsoever, bending in all kinds of unpleasant ways.

Eventually, she managed to get a hold of him and place him on her back. "Stay with us, Gramps," Three said softly. "We still need you."

She would have to be quick so that he wouldn't be affected by the cold outside, but at least the way through the pipes would be warm. Once she got to the Shromacci Misto, she would call an ambulance.

Three hurried outside, making careful steps to avoid jostling her the captain too much. As she made her way to the grate, she tried to think of a way to pop it open without putting the captain down. Then, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud cackling.

Her head snapped to the left and she saw Octavio spinning gleefully in his globe.

"He finally did it! He's finally gone! That means I win. You hear me, squid? I win in the end! And with that old rag out of the way, you inklings with your lazy ways will give us all the time we need to build up our strength, and there won't be anyone to stop us."

Three glared hatefully at him, her mantle turning a menacing dark-red. Suddenly, more than any other time in her life, she wanted to kill him, to rip him apart with her bare hands and feed his scraps to the Salmonids, but she had to stay on task. The captain, who had been like a grandfather to her, one of only two she had ever known, was not dead yet.

Three managed to pry the grate open by finding a spot just wide enough for her boot to fit. She then flashed at Octavio a combination of colours and patterns that would have made even the most colourful sailors recoil in shock, wondering who could have taught her such language, then, she vanished from his sight, praying to the Sovereign God that she wouldn't be too late, and that Captain Cuttlefish would live.