Sebbain Pein tried not to look weary as he climbed out of the back of the car and stretched his weary legs. For the first time in a while, he felt all ninety of his years.
Narii Vost'yan, his adjutant, came around from the other side of the car and eyed him with concern, her dark-orange mantle showing spots of sickly purple.
"Sir, are you sure you don't want to go straight home? You've put in a long day and that last meeting was… unpleasant. It might be nice to clear your head. Whatever's waiting for you can wait 'till tomorrow."
"I'm fine, Narii; just frustrated, is all. Besides, my habit is always to go to my office and try to get as many of my work-related frustrations out as I can before I get back home and accidentally let it out on my family. I advise you to do the same once you're married."
She gave him an almost guilty smile. "I appreciate the advice, Sir, but I don't think I'll have to worry about that. I'm married to the job, after all."
Sabbain didn't comment. He'd seen and heard that sort of thing too much already, and it hurt to hear.
The Inkopolis National Security headquarters, was a black and orange, hexagonal building built to emulate the fortresses of old but with all the modern amenities. His office was at the top of a central spire, which gave him a grand view over the West end of Inkopolis.
On the way up, he dismissed Narii to her own office. Upon reaching the top floor, the doors parted and he was greeted by his personal secretary sitting behind her desk.
"Hello, Jazeel. Any messages while I was out?"
"Just one from your daughter, Sir. She sent pictures of your new granddaughter." She gave him a big smile. "She's a cute one."
Sabbain smiled back, feeling some of his weariness drain away, replaced with a father's pride. "That she is. I'll be staying for a little while but hold my messages for now until I can clear my head."
"Of course, Sir."
Sebbain walked past her and through the large double doors, under the sign that read "Chief of National Security."
His office was clean and spartan, free of distractions. He kept the lights off, preferring the solitude of the dark for the moment. His desk was raised several steps above the rest of the room, giving it a position of prominence. To the right was a small sitting area where he could conduct less formal discussions, and to the left was a work area for assistants or others whom he might need to work closely with. He had a feeling that area was going to be fairly busy soon.
He sighed and took a moment to look out the window at the darkening sky as the evening sun glinted off the Inkopolis skyline. His eyes ended up focusing on the darker part just beyond the tall buildings to Xapheerell Ward, butted up against the inner city and the harbour district. He could only see a small corner of it from where he stood but he could see it, and see how dimly lit it was compared to the rest of the city.
The earlier meeting called by Minister Madrelle had been full of unpleasantness. The cabinet members had spent as much time pointing fingers at each other as discussing the actual issue, that issue being the present and very real danger that had been lurking under their noses for probably several years in Inkopolis' own soft underbelly.
He remembered the incident almost a year ago, but he hadn't thought as much about it then. Xapheerel Ward had always been a place that took care of itself pretty well with only the occasional involvement of Inkopolis Security. When he'd heard about the incident, he'd called up the Chief of Inkopolis Security, and he'd told him about how worried he was with the crab's sudden and very effective aggression, pushing out several of the prominent shoals from the area; although, from the sounds of it, it seemed like they had been on the way out anyway. Now, only one holdout remained, under Matron Sunreader. The crabs hadn't attacked her so far, probably fearful of official government reprisals if they attacked a matron so directly. He hoped that would last long enough for them to come up with a way of resolving the crisis.
He pulled himself from the window and sat behind his desk. Turning on his work station, he thought through some of the things he should try and get done before he went home. Probably paperwork. He hated it enough that it would probably distract him from the day's frustrations sufficiently for him to calm down.
His ears picked up the sound of a soft click and he looked back towards the door. It sounded like the lock but he didn't see anyone.
Curious, he keyed the intercom on the right side of his desk. "Jazeel, did someone come up?" There was a pause before she answered.
"No, Sir. Nobody since you."
"Alright, just checking."
Just his imagination then, probably a combination of stress and age.
He heard a bump, this time from under his desk. Frowning, he slid his chair back and peered underneath, finding nothing but the glowing light of the power bar. Then he thought, maybe it wasn't there, but on the other side where the noise had come from, the front of the desk. He stood up to investigate, only to find himself looking straight down the barrel of a gun.
His body froze and his hearts kicked into high gear as panic, instinct, and good sense wrestled within him for control of the situation.
"Don't yell." The voice was direct, but also oddly beautiful. He looked up from the gun and saw his potential assailant. She, and it could only be a she with that voice, was completely covered in black winter gear that hid any descriptive features of her body and her face, save for the two red eyes staring right into his, calm and resolute.
"Sit back down."
Calmly, he obeyed, moving slowly as he settled back into his chair. He didn't know who this person was or what her motivation could possibly be so he was intrigued as much as frightened by the degree of confidence she had in her control of the situation. Even if she was using a common turf war splattershot, it was all she would need to kill him.
Once he was seated, she reached into one of the pockets of her coat and pulled out what looked like a two-way radio device. She switched it on, clicked it a few times, then set it on his desk. A heart cycle later, a distorted voice came through it.
"Salutations, Mr. Pein, Chief of National Security. I apologize for taking these extreme measures but, as I'm sure you've just been made aware, Inkopolis, and all of Calachora is in danger. I'm sure you're very familiar with the developing issues in Xapheerell Ward right now."
The girl lowered her gun and relaxed slightly, though she kept watching him closely. Sebbain allowed himself to lean forward onto his desk and speak closely into the radio.
"And who are you?"
"The less you know the better, Mr. Pein. That's the slogan for this conversation. You'll want to remember it."
"Knowing less is part of what's caused me to be in the present situation. Had I known what was going on in Xapheerell earlier, I'd have tried to do something about it."
"Commendable, but you likely wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway, for the same reason the Chief of Inkopolis Security wasn't able to do anything almost a year ago."
Sebbain felt his stomach tighten. "And why do you say that?"
"Politics, of course. The obvious solution would be for you to summon every enforcer and spare officer you can get your hands on and purge all members of the crab gangs from Xapheerell, yes?"
Sebbain flinched, his stomach forming into a knot. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"
"Is it? Even knowing that the consortiums are backing the gangs and essentially trying to create a war right in our own capital?"
Sebbain flinched again, as if he'd been struck. That was a closely kept government secret. "How do you know about that?" In the brief second before the voice answered, he thought through the list of people who knew.
"One of the Wisdoms says 'loose lips sink ships.' I believe that's the best way to describe how I know."
Sebbain scowled, the last vestiges of personal fear all but leaving him. "Regardless, if you're as smart as you clearly think you are, you know I can't force the crab gangs out."
"Of course not, that would provoke a direct war with the Consortiums, a war which Calachora is not at all prepared for, not to mention it would immediately result in an invasion of Bellchora, a friendly nation, and so, your hands are tied.
"Even if you wait for the crab gangs to attack first, you'd still be forced to kill them to stop them all, and I know you've been investigating how many there are, and that would still provoke a violent response from the Consortiums who are looking for any excuse right now. You and the government are stuck between Scylla and Charybdis and you can't find a clean way through."
Sebbain's mouth and throat felt dry. The voice was, unfortunately, right. Half the reason the meeting today had been so unpleasant was because even though they knew the immediate problem, any solution they came up with would only create one even worse.
"I hope you didn't call just to tell me things I already know."
"Of course not, but it's important that you know I know. I also have recent information from Xapheerell that you might not know."
"I'm listening."
"Firstly, there's strong evidence to suggest military advisors and even professional soldiers have been sent to support the crab gangs."
"What? How do you know?"
From the circumstances of the large-scale turf war just under a year ago that resulted in Matron Sunreader's death."
"What?"
He couldn't help but cry out at that, and he found the gun barrel very quickly pointed into his forehead. The girl was fast, terrifyingly fast.
Several seconds passed in silence before she lowered the gun again.
"I must say I'm surprised, Mr. Pein. I thought you of all people would have known about the cover up."
Sebbain forced his body to relax and rubbed his hands together, fighting the anger and frustration building up within him. "You would think so."
"Well, don't blame Inkopolis Security. It worked to keep the crab gangs from overrunning the ward entirely, but I'm afraid that won't last much longer, which is why it's necessary to act even sooner."
"And just what solution do you propose? In case you missed your own point, we can't really do much."
"Actually, Mr. Pein, I want you to do less than much, I want you to do nothing at all."
Sebbain blinked. "What?" Then he realized what they really meant, and his blood chilled. "You want us to turn a blind eye. You're planning to handle the situation yourself."
"You catch on quickly, Mr. Pein. Consider me both impressed and pleased that our nation's security is in such intelligent hands."
"Don't patronize me. If you thought I was competent you wouldn't be calling me, and what you're asking me to do is in direct violation of my duty."
"On the contrary, Chief, your duty requires it. You said yourself that there's nothing you can do to directly respond to this clear and present danger to national security, which leaves alternatives like what we have planned as your only option to fulfilling your sacred duty. I assume you know what black ops are."
He did but that only made him feel worse about the situation. For the moment though, he couldn't do much other than listen.
"And what exactly do you have planned?"
"The less you know, remember?"
"To the pits with that!" His shout didn't provoke the assassin this time. "You want my cooperation, you ask me to put my career and our country on the line, you better tell me everything. I'm not going to trust some disembodied voice over a radio who had to have a gun held to my head to get me to listen."
There was a long pause this time, the voice on the other side of the radio considering his words. Sebbain allowed himself a modicum of satisfaction at having caught them off guard.
"Agent 3," the voice said, "switch to the phone."
The black clad girl – Agent 3, turned off the radio and pulled her phone out of another pocket. She plugged a small cable into it and then inserted the other end into one of the ports in the monitor of his desk terminal. The screen blinked a few times before a solid image appeared, and the person he saw was the last one he would have expected.
"Marie Sansea?"
The light-grey girl gave a little smile. "I'm flattered you recognize me. Though, for you I imagine my appearance triggers different thoughts." She brought a hand up to the left side of her face and tilted it a little, adopting a cold expression. "I know the resemblance is uncanny."
She was right. Even now, old memories flashed in front of Sebbain's eyes, showing an older, nearly identical, version of the girl on screen standing tall in front of him in a previous office of his, face and uniform caked in the blood of more than a dozen dead crabs she'd single-handedly killed with a golf club.
"And we're back to crabs again," he muttered, rubbing his brow.
"So it seems. I'm sharing my identity with you, Chief, because I want to prove how serious we are about this situation, and I guarantee you we aren't taking it lightly. Had I come to you, as a mere celebrity, wouldn't I have merely come off as a spoiled, arrogant, self-important young socialite who thought she could go over the heads of so many to talk directly to the head of national security? I didn't have the time to go through proper channels. Even my grandmother doesn't know I'm doing this."
Honestly, Sebbain didn't think that doing it this way discounted acting as a spoiled socialite, but that didn't matter right now and she was holding the gun. "Whatever. What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Wiping out the crab gangs, of course. The government can't officially act, but if they get taken out through a common gang war, well, that's just the nature of the place they chose to settle, isn't it?"
"That's splitting hairs, especially considering they weren't happy with Callie killing just one of them, even though that should have been the 'nature of the place they chose to settle.' Besides, ignoring a prolonged gang war would be the same as us wiping them out ourselves, from the crabs point of view."
"It won't be prolonged. We plan it to be over in a single night, two at the worst."
Sebbain scoffed, but as he opened his mouth to tell her she was being overly optimistic, she waved a hand.
"Yes yes, I know, I know. This isn't turf war, you're in way over your heads, you don't know what you're doing, blah, blah, heard it before." She looked back at him, and even through the monitor she felt that power of that firm gaze, an all too familiar firm gaze. The eyes were different but the gaze was the same.
"We're talking about people's lives being at stake, Chief. We lost two to those crabs just recently, a matron almost a year ago, who knows how many we'll lose if they are allowed to strike. We're still gathering information on what their disposition is but, if all goes well, we'll be conducting the operation in about one week."
"A week?"
"I don't think we can delay it any more than that. They'll strike in three weeks at most. I'm not willing to wait long enough to find out."
"Where did you get that information, and where are you going to get the people to do this? We haven't had an army for almost a century, and even if you manage to scrape all the old Xapheerell shoals together, it wouldn't be enough."
"I'm well aware. I assure you, I'm handling it. If we're dealing with some professional soldier types, then we have to be extra careful."
Sebbain set his gaze. "Let's talk about that. How do you know there are professional soldiers among them?"
"As I said before, it fits what we know. They used somewhat archaic, but still effective, close infantry tactics to get through the Xapheerell shoal's lines, they picked a time of year when it would be cold so our ink weapons would be less effective, if they worked at all; and their strategy in concentrating their forces and blitzing one fortress after another also speaks to a military strategy more than typical turf war strategy, and it was carried out quite competently too by someone who knew what they were doing. The acting matron of Xapheerell gave us a first-hand account."
Sebbain rubbed his head. He couldn't dispute Marie's analysis, which only made him more concerned. How and why was a pop idol so knowledgeable about military matters? Was it her grandfather's influence? That had to be it. Maybe he had done the analysis? Curses, maybe he was the one really behind this. Had he actually managed to tear himself away from the phantoms of the Octarian Empire enough to focus on an actual threat?
If he really was behind it, then the monarch would do worse than fire him when she found out about this, but at the same time, he was desperate, and honestly, maybe she would find some way of having this all fall on Cuttlefish instead. Oh yes, she would relish that chance, probably enough to forgive him, he hoped. With his own hands tied by the political situation, maybe Marie really did present the only option. And Marie had been right, his duty required him to do what he had to to protect the nation, even if it meant a gamble, even if it cost him personally. Curse it.
"So, you plan to lead some kind of army against, likely, several hundred crabs and for it to be over in less than two days?"
"Something like that. I don't see it being easy, but we really have no other choice. We'll be hitting them with everything we have as soon as we can. All we need is the ability to operate freely, which is where you come in."
Sebbain gritted his beak and looked at her, weighing his options, reviewing the very basic plan she had outlined. She was obviously leaving out as many details as she thought she could get away with, but she had also given her identity as a show of faith. What she was doing was all kinds of illegal, but again, what choice did he really have but to take a gamble. There would be a heavy toll regardless of how it came out, but maybe they could at least minimize the damage.
"Fine," he said. "If you can manage to avoid being too overt, I might be able to work out something with Inkopolis Security."
Marie bowed her head and flashed white. "I thank you very much for your understanding, Sir. I can't promise everything will turn out perfectly, but I can promise you we will win the fight."
"Just do what you have to and I will too," he said. "Are we done?"
"We are. I hope the next time we speak, it will be to discuss how well we've succeeded."
"Me too. Let's hope it works out for all of us."
Marie flashed green. "We'll be in touch." And then she hung up. Agent 3 disconnected the phone and, with a nod, turned to walk away.
"Wait a second, girl."
She stopped and then turned around, asking him "what?" through tuk'yan.
"I want to know how you managed to get in here without anyone noticing. You can't tell me everyone just let you in."
The girl turned and her eyes sparkled between the small gap between her jacket collar and toque. "Trade secret."
"Barnacles. If you can get in, that means our enemies might be able to get in too. You can't tell me you're not worried about that."
She paused a moment and then gestured behind him with her gun. "In your shadow."
He turned and looked, seeing his shadow cast along the back wall by the last vestiges of sunlight peeking in through the window, but nothing else. He turned back to her, only to find her gone.
Stepping quickly away from his desk, he looked around the room, but found no trace of her, nor any idea where she could have escaped through.
He sighed bitterly and then returned to his desk. Marie's image had been replaced by his email program. He clicked one of the awaiting messages, and it contained an image of his three-month old granddaughter crying from her first day out of the tank.
He realized that if Xapheerell Ward fell, then a grim future awaited her, all his children and grandchildren, and those of every other inkling alive. They couldn't allow themselves to be hamstrung by politics preventing them from defending their own country. When had they become so weak that they could be so easily bullied?
For the first time in his life, he actually agreed with crazy Captain Cuttlefish's belief that Calachora needed a standing army. It wouldn't have changed the current situation, but it might have prevented it from happening at all.
Sebbain stood up and patted his coat, mentally checking that he had everything. He walked up to the door, remembered to unlock it, then left his office.
"Jazeel, I need you to send a high priority message to the Chief of Inkopolis Security. Tell him I'm coming to talk to him personally. He should still be in his office unless he left for home early. After that, please let my wife know I'll be home a little late again tonight."
"Y-yes, Sir."
"You can go home too after you're done. I have a feeling we will both be enduring long nights in the near future."
She let out a somewhat bewildered, "Yes, Sir" before he entered the elevator and the doors closed. He then switched his thoughts to the discussion he was going to have with the Inkopolis Security chief. A very long and very thorough discussion.
Avrika had never seen so many octolings assembled on the surface before. Many of them were ordinary labourers, past prime soldiering age, but most were young. Octavia had even added every member of the karth labour brigades she could spare. They all huddled close together to try and stave off the cold as they waited for the inkling's permission to begin.
Avrika hadn't been sure how the inklings would react to such a large force of Octarians coming, numbering several hundred in number, but, if anything, Callie seemed pleased by the turnout.
Agent 3, Agent 4, and Agent 8 were looking for any signs of stray people that might spot them. This operation did have to be somewhat covert after all, and they couldn't risk getting spotted by some random passer-by.
To add to the tension, the recently minted Lady of War was also present. Although technically not in command of the operation, Lady Sever had come to observe, and perhaps see the inklings for herself. Callie didn't seem bothered by her presence either. That unshakable confidence was unsettling.
The handheld radio in Callie's hand crackled with Agent 4's voice. "Last truck's on the way out. They'll be out of sight in a couple of minutes."
"Good, I'll get things started down here. By the time they start picking at the piles they'll be gone."
Callie stepped to the side towards a tarp covering a trio of large mounds. She quickly untied it, letting the wind naturally unwrap it, revealing three large piles of gloves.
"Work gloves," she explained. "Didn't want to show them until I was sure it was clear. Have your gatherers line up and take one each before they start working. They'll have trouble handling the metal otherwise."
Avrika blinked in surprise. Was she giving them to them? She thought about why but, then again, Marie had done the same for Lilibet.
Kentarch Vadrel, the one actually in charge of the operation, quickly shouted orders, and had everyone moving exactly where they needed to go in minutes, moving their troops and equipment from their hidden positions and into the open, ready to begin working. The ones who would be picking at the scrap piles quickly lined up in front of the three glove piles. Callie assigned the first one in each line to hand everyone else in the line their pair of gloves and the process began.
In the sudden rush of activity, everyone seemed to have forgotten the cold. Perhaps moving around was enough to stave it off. Avrika, however, was not moving around, and she felt the chill. Still, she stood resolute as the scrap piles came alive with octolings, grabbing large hunks of steel, iron, and even electronic devices of various kinds. It was uplifting to see. If not for the work the Trade Ministry had done, that she and Lord Hobber had done, this wouldn't have been possible. It wasn't enough to save their nation, but it was something, and it would buy time.
"Now then," Callie said. "Ambassador, if you and Her Grace have a moment, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Avrika blinked. "Is that so? What exactly?"
Instead of answering, Callie directed them both to one of the large, fully enclosed vehicles she had been waiting with. She didn't know what they were for but she was certain she had a reason for bringing them.
She opened a small door on the side of the vehicle and urged them quickly inside. Avrika went in first, instinctively looking for threats, but what she found instead was an impossibly opulent interior with clean furnishings, ludicrously plush seats, and brass trim. Even the floor was made of a bright, polished wood.
She sat on one of the sofas, and stiffened when she felt herself sink several inches into its plush cushioning, having to steady herself on the arm. Lady Sever sat next to her. Callie sat across from them in an equally plush chair.
"I have tea brewing. It should be ready shortly."
It was then that Lady Sever finally spoke. "You think it appropriate to be warm in here and drink casually while everyone else works?"
"I am working. I'm having official discussions with the two of you. Besides, you'd both be doing not much more than standing out there anyway."
Lady Sever's eyes narrowed and Avrika grimaced at Callie's bluntness, but that was probably accurate. As Ambassador, Avrika's main job was to talk with Callie, not help with the recovery effort, and Lady Sever was mainly there to observe, and provide useful feedback where she could find it. But mostly, yes, they would have ended up just standing there, not really being all that useful, so neither of them really had much room to argue.
"So what do you want to discuss then?"
"A trade, Lady Sever. That's all."
Avrika frowned. "A trade?" She and Lord Hobber had racked their brains trying to come up with things that they might be able to trade with the inklings, science, technology, even labour, but now they were coming to them?
"Yes, which is why I'm glad the esteemed Lady of War is here. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way."
Lady Sever's only response was a soft grunt. She didn't like Callie, despite Octavia's praise for her accomplishments on behalf of the Empire. Or maybe it was because of that.
"I need equipment," Callie said. "Military equipment." She produced a list from her jacket pocket and handed it to Avrika, just as something started beeping to her right.
"That's the tea. You two look that over. I'll just be a second."
As Callie got up and went to the small kitchen station, Avrika held the list, written in clear Octese, between herself and Lady Sever.
"Rolonium?" She whispered. "Why would they want that?"
"It could be for any number of reasons," Lady Sever whispered back. "But she wants a lot of it.
"Along with octorollers, octoshots, and replacement parts for both. Why do they even want or need these when they have their own weapons?"
"Try asking her," she said, as if the suggestion was obvious. Avrika honestly wasn't sure if Callie would tell her.
"Sorry for the wait."
Callie came and handed them each a tea cup and saucer. Lady Sever was cautious about the drink but Avrika didn't hesitate, taking a hearty sip and letting the warmth flow through her. She never tired of that refreshing feeling. Lady Sever eventually took a tiny sip herself and seemed surprised at it.
"It's lemon tea," Callie explained. "Little more zesty than what I gave you before, Ambassador. So, what do you think of the list?"
Avrika cautiously looked Callie over, trying to gauge her intentions, but the casual way she was sitting and the bright smile on her face meant she was either trying to hide how she really felt or she genuinely didn't think it was an issue.
"It's all military equipment. Why would you need so much of our equipment when you have your own?"
"Your equipment works and you can supply it in the quantities I need. It's not doing you much good where it is right now anyway, right? You have at least that much stuff sitting in warehouses doing nothing. This way it's actually being used for something and you get something out of it. You can see the prices I'm willing to pay next to each item. They're inflated a bit because I need it in a hurry." She looked at Lady Sever. "Which is why I'm glad you're here. You can cut through all the bureaucracy and get it approved right away."
Lady Sever narrowed her eyes but said nothing, instead looking back at the list and the numbers next to the prices.
"I'm not sure the Dictatrix or Lord Hobber would approve of this sort of trade," Avrika explained. "I don't think they would object to the items, but, honestly, your money wouldn't be of particular value to us since we don't have access yet to your market."
"Oh it wouldn't be money, per-say," Callie said. "It would be credited. Basically, instead of being given money directly, we agree to hold this amount of money in reserve for your use. If you find something of ours you want to buy, then we can buy it for you, as long as it's within the amount of credit you have."
Avrika's eyes lit up. They could get any item? They wouldn't have to wait for some kind of ideal trade, they could get whatever they needed. Of course there was no way of knowing if the prices were fair, but they had no negotiating power to set the price, did they?
"You still haven't said what you need this for," Lady Sever said.
Callie shrugged visibly. "Does it matter? You're getting something out of it, something more valuable than any item we could give because you get to choose. Just trust me."
Avrika bit her bottom lip. That was fair enough, but all they had ever done was trust them. They hadn't let them down, but their entire relationship was built on a fragile thread of faith built on fairly uncomfortable pretexts. What's more, there was no telling what the consequences of using their equipment on someone, if that's what it indeed was being used for, would have on their own nation's future. No, she couldn't allow that, not without knowing for herself what was really going on.
"Personally, I do trust you, Callie. I trust both you and Marie. You've been sincere and more than generous in how you've treated us; however, my duty as Ambassador of the Octarian People prevents me from trusting you officially. Without knowing how this equipment can be used, without knowing who it's going to be used against and what the consequences might be, I cannot approve this trade."
For the first time, Callie's smile faltered. She tried to hide it behind a sip of tea, but Avrika could tell she'd been taken off guard. The sliver of satisfaction that gave her was bittersweet. She didn't look at Lady Sever but sensed approval from her, so she felt confident Lord Hobber would have approved too.
"Alright," Callie said. "To put it bluntly, we're using it to kill some crabs that are trying to invade inkopolis. There aren't all that many of them and the fight will be relatively brief, but this equipment will make it a lot easier. That's also why I'm willing to pay to have it delivered quickly."
"Crabs?" Avrika asked. "I thought everyone got along in Inkopolis."
"For the most part, everyone does, but the Consortiums, that's what the crab countries are called, are trying to undermine us by slipping in soldiers disguised as civilians to a less populated ward of the city. We're just trying to stop them before it happens. They're a little tricky to fight since they're less vulnerable to ink, so we have to be tricky ourselves."
"And they won't be expecting you to use Octarian equipment," Lady Sever said, nodding. "I see."
"Yes," Avrika said, "But if we provide you with weapons, would that not make us enemies of the crabs as well?"
Callie took a deliberate sip of her coffee, her expression suddenly deadly serious.
"One of the reasons we're taking on the crabs is because they murdered an octoling. They tried to kill Vella too."
Avrika's blood ran cold. Vella had been attacked in a city like Inkopolis? An octoling had been murdered?
"She was deliberately targeted," Callie said, taking out her personal electronic device and thumbing across its screen. "She was living a fulfilling life, had a bright happy future ahead of her, but some crabs caught her and did this." She showed them the screen and Avrika gaped in horror at the image of the mutilated body, decapitated and it's limbs torn off in a bloody mess.
"She did nothing to deserve that. This is just the kind of enemy we're facing, and the enemy you'll be facing if we end up losing. So, as you can see, beyond the trade, it's in your best interest too."
Avrika considered this. She didn't doubt Callie's story, gods knew there were plenty of old stories about the old crab enemy from wars generations ago, but once again they were leaving their fate in someone else's hands, a major thing. But it didn't have to be that way, they could make a difference, they could determine their own fate, no, their destiny.
"What if we could offer more? Would you be willing to pay it?"
Callie frowned. "I don't think we'd really have any use for any more than what's on the last, and even that might be overdoing it."
"I'm not talking about equipment, I'm talking about soldiers."
Callie looked surprised, almost as surprised as Lady Sever, who stared at Avrika, shocked and appalled. Avrika forced herself to ignore her.
"You said it yourself, we have a stake in this, so yes, we should trade our unused equipment, but just like we have equipment not being used, our soldiers are not being used much either. This scrap gathering is the first thing they've really done in a fair while. However, the Ravalda would never approve of us offering to send you troops for nothing. As far as many of them would be concerned, it is your issue and you don't have time for them to debate it. So, if you were to provide an incentive, they might be more willing."
Lady Sever's mouth slowly closed as Avrika went on. That didn't mean approval, but it did at least mean she understood what she was trying to do.
Callie eyed her carefully, Avrika could imagine her mind whirring with calculations. Finally, Callie sighed. "I suppose we could negotiate a price, depending on how many troops you'd want to offer."
"How many would you need?"
Callie sipped her tea and considered. "No less than two platoons. No more than three. So one-hundred to one-fifty."
Avrika glanced tentatively at Lady Sever, who met her with a steely gaze that didn't look at all pleased. She crossed her arms and let out a reluctant sigh. "If the Dictatrix approves, we can send one-hundred fifty."
Callie nodded. "One more thing, they'll need to be placed under my command."
Lady Sever's glare sharpened but Callie was unperturbed. "It's our city, they're aren't going to understand the situation as well as I do. And, unlike the others, I actually know how to and have commanded Octarians in the past. I know how they operate, I know I can lead them, and I'm not letting an army loose in Inkopolis without supervision, my supervision." Callie met Lady Sever's glare, and Avrika thought she could see their two energies clashing in mid-air, neither willing to back down.
"I will discuss it with the Dictatrix."
Callie's smile returned. "You do that."
Avrika let out a breath, allowing herself to relax. This could work, it could really work, and, this time, the inklings were relying on them. They had a mutual partnership in this, even if the inklings were the senior partner, and the Octarians had just regained a little bit of their own agency. She would doubtlessly suffer Lady Sever's wrath later, and perhaps that of the entire Ravalda, but it would be worth it if this all worked. Of course, there was no guarantee of that.
She cleared her throat. "So, about the price..."
Gangrin stumbled in through the temple doors, his whole body aching like never before. His muscles felt on the verge of tearing as he trudged down the hallway, trying to get to the cafeteria. Next to him, Marsh was in much the same state, but he had an infuriating smile on his face.
"What are you so happy about?" He grumbled.
Marsh pulsed grey, a few flickers of bright yellow in there. "I kinda' enjoyed it. It's the sort of work an inkyar should be doing. 'Sides, the captain was good."
Gangrin grunted. "I thought he was going to kill us. You can't pretend you're less sore than me."
"I'm in better shape than you."
"You were having just as much trouble as I was."
"You're bigger and older."
Gangrin bared his beak but didn't further the conversation. He was too exhausted to argue with Marsh, and the younger boy showed a tired grin in triumph.
The cafeteria was already bustling by the time they arrived, but at least there was only one person ahead of them in line. They each grabbed a tray, got their food, and looked for a place to sit down. Most of the tables were full, the other kids making a point of not leaving any space for them to sit down, wanting no association with the ones who had caused so much trouble. That left only one table open, where Miazama and Tephilla sat.
"I see you two survived," he said, looking them over. "At least Tani didn't bite off your arms and legs."
They glanced up at them but said nothing at first, until Miazama wrinkled her nose. "You smell like fish."
"We've been working on a fishing boat all day," Marsh said proudly. "Priestess Gallara thought it would help us learn the value of hard work."
"Not enough," Gangrin grumbled. "You'd have to pay me a lot to work that job every day."
"You better not be gettin' paid if we aren't," Miazama muttered.
"Of course not. We'll be working on that boat for the rest of this week and probably into next week." He stabbed at his food, taking a bite. "What about you two? What did Tani end up making you do?"
Gangrin expected a scowl, depressed colours in their mantles, mixed in with some anger. Instead, the two girls looked at each other, as if unsure how to answer.
"She just needed me as a guide through the ol' turf," Miazama replied.
"And she brought me along for another pair of eyes," Tephilla added.
Gangrin frowned. "That's it? I expected her to try and make you wish for the black pits."
Their mantles rippled, revealing conflicted thoughts and feelings. He suspected that what really happened would be something they wouldn't want to talk about.
"Never mind," he said. "I have a feeling I don't want to know."
"Probably not," Tephilla said, and she quietly returned to her food.
Miazama pulsed a light-grey. "Well, she did teach us some self-defense the other day. I guess I felt better knowin' even a wee bit of it. Oh!" She looked directly at Gangrin and leaned closer. He did the same, feeling like he was about to hear something good.
"That girl, Maiya, that you looked up? We saw 'er at Work Detail that same day. She was teachin' everyone 'ow to fight crabs."
Gangrin's eyes widened. "What was she doing there? Did they hire her as some kind of self-defense instructor?"
"Dunno, but seems like the Work Detail girls all know 'er. They did everything she told 'em, kinda' like army officers in the movies."
"What?" Gangrin couldn't help but be confused. Inkopolis had no army, hadn't for nearly a century, so where would she have picked up that kind of behavior? During her bodyguard training? No, that didn't make sense. Maybe she was a natural at it or one of her relatives was a veteran.
"Did she act like she knew Tani?"
"Treated her like a sister."
All eyes turned to Tephilla, suddenly no longer silent, bitterness oozing from her words like hot tar. Gangrin and Marsh looked to Miazama who pulsed green.
"They did seem pretty kin-like. It was subtle but you could see it."
Gangrin felt jealousy and bitterness well up within him again, but he knew it to be irrational. It was natural for strong talents to find each other in Turf War, but Tani… she just didn't seem the type, no matter what the stats suggested. Surely someone with that kind of prowess wouldn't have let him talk down to them as much as he had.
"Are you guys going back to fishing again tomorrow?"
Marsh flashed green and smiled. "Yeah. It's way better than just stacking bricks and cement. Working on a boat you learn what it means to be an inkyar."
Tephilla said nothing but Miazama cracked an amused smile, the kind one might show watching the antics of a fool, at least, that's how Gangrin saw it. He might have been amused himself except he had put up with it all day and would again tomorrow.
"You don't like it?"
Gangrin looked up, meeting Tephilla's eyes. There was a hint of challenge in them and it dug just a little bit under his skin.
"You can't tell me you're happy being Tani's servant girl. You're even a year older than her."
She met his eyes, not wavering in the slightest, but her eyes changed, becoming distant as they looked towards something unseen. "I was at first, but I didn't feel like a servant. Honestly, it felt more like how we were doing things before, with her just being the leader and telling us the jobs we needed to do."
Gangrin glanced at Miazama who confirmed her statement with a flash of green. "I don't think even you would have minded what she had us do." A savage grin split her face. "Actually, if you'd come with us and seen what we saw, you'd have been turned on more than anything."
Tephilla snickered, flashing her agreement, even Marsh looked amused, but Gangrin only snarled.
"I'm not interested in a girlfriend. It's just someone else trying to tell me what to do."
The other three looked at him, surprised for just a second before disapproval showed in their faces and mantles.
"As opposed to what?" Tephilla demanded. "Listening to you? How did that work out for you last time? For all of us?"
"I made a mistake!" He winced, realizing he'd spoken too loudly and then brought his voice back down. "I made a mistake, but that doesn't mean I'd be wrong all the time."
"Don' make you better'n anyone else. You're actin' like you bein' in charge is the way things ought'a be."
"And what's wrong with that? You didn't like anyone telling you what to do either."
Miazama's mantle turned light-pink with shame but she maintained her gaze and fought it down. "I changed my mind. You just gotta' be choosey who ya' let boss ya' 'round."
"You honestly think that's Tani?"
"The gods seem to think so if they had us placed under her as our divine punishment." Tephilla regarded him with an accusing look. "Are you doubting the will of heaven?"
"Don't quote scriptures to me, Tephilla. The gods haven't done me any favours. My parents taught me that the best way to get through life was to be your own boss. Either you're a leader or a follower."
"Your parents are in jail."
Marsh's blunt words cut through the conversation like a searing hot knife and Gangrin snapped his head to face him, his eyes blazing furiously.
"How did you know?" He demanded in a harsh but quiet tone.
"Everyone knows," Tephilla answered instead. "All it takes is one kid to find out and the rest will eventually too. You can't keep secrets in the orphanage. I've been here longer than almost anyone. I know."
"We don' know why they're in jail though," Miazama said. "You plannin' on sharin'?"
"No," he replied acidly. "But I will say it wasn't from lack of effort when it came to parenting."
Miazama's eyed hardened into orbs of fiery sapphire, her mantle a molten red. Tephilla put a hand on her arm, her own mantle a flowing pattern of ocean blue and grassy green.
"Don't let him get to you. It's not worth it."
Miazama let out a growl then forced her mantle back to its natural indigo. She hurriedly scarfed down the rest of her food then stood and left with her tray, not saying another word.
Tephilla finished a moment later and stood up too. As she turned away she said. "You know, nobody is going to want to follow a leader who only thinks about himself. I thought what happened Friday would have made that obvious. After all, we all got in that mess just because you wanted to go play turf war, like some kid." She scoffed. "I would much rather be Tani's servant than your follower."
"Oof," Marsh muttered through a mouthful of fish nuggets.
Gangrin ignored him but watched out of the corner of his eye as, inexplicable as it seemed, Miazama waited for Tephilla before they left the cafeteria together. When and how did they get so close?