When Brook woke up from his post- breakfast nap, Scorch pretty much jumped him. Brook had a sweater flung at his face and a thick pair of trousers followed shortly.
Disoriented he needed a moment to pull his head free and decipher what exactly had landed on him there.
"Come on, up! We are getting dinner." Scorch shouted across the room, already struggling into his own pullover.
Brook was stiff, so as he struggled to get his own sweater his arms refused to move over his head. Someone took a grip on the fabric and pulled it over Brook's head.
He surfaced with tousled black hair and Scorch pulled impatiently at his sleeve.
"Come on, move vod'ika." Brook struggled into his wool trousers and staggered after Scorch. He had the feeling that the clone was going easy on him and wondered how long his grace period would last.
Sunlight blinded Brook as he pushed the wooden front door open, careful not to catch a splinter. Scorch and his brothers were already kitted up, thick pullover, trousers, long boots and, Brook blinked, buckets and some wooden rods with strings.
One brother pressed one of each items into Brook's hands.
"Now, come on shiny. Laseema will be mad if we aren't back in time for dinner."
The three brothers strode ahead and after a moment Brook hurried after them.
Ordo followed his vode as they made their way to the woods.
Fixer, seemingly feeling his gaze, turned around. He followed the Null's line of sight. Fixer pointed at Brook's back, than signaled an 'all clear', before catching up to his team.
Ordo relaxed slightly, knowing the three would have the situation under control.
A warm hand settled on Ordo's shoulder.
"What is on your mind son?" Kal asked, steaming mug of caf in hand.
His son didn't answer immediately, taking a moment to lay out his answer. Kal let him, meanwhile sipping his drink.
Finally Ordo spoke up.
"When shall we question him?"
"Question?" Kal raised an eyebrow. "What for?"
Ordo started, "we have the report from his captain, but that things stinks." He then hesitated, noticing the half-smile on hiss Buir's lips.
He wanted for Ordo to figure something out.
"Exactly." His Buir said. "Something there isn't right. A Spaarti doing more than the precise orders he was given? No way, they just can not do that."
The last part was said with a sigh, Kal shaking his head, undoubtedly thinking of the next generations of clones he couldn't reach.
Ordo fidgeted, nearly reaching out, but giving comfort to his Buir was still weird. Kal was invincable.
In moments like this Ordo didn't know what to do.
So he did the next best thing.
"That means he either got other orders or he got screwed."
Kal nodded. "Exactly."
"And since he has no way out, you will assume that he is innocent and let him settle in and talk at a later moment."
His father smiled and although it was half hidden by the broad mug it send a warmth through Ordo, made him stand up straighter.
Trust Kal to only see the good thing in clones, altough a small nagging voice at the back of Ordo's head wouldn't stop whispering.
'What if he is wrong?' He squished it.
That simply couldn't be. This was Kal.
They made their way through the underbrush, smoothly and almost without sound. Brook on the other hand stumbled and felt like he sounded as much noise as the three brothers combined.
Boss turned around, glowering at Brook in a manner that told him he felt just the same.
"Could you be louder?" He growled. "Come on shiny, how about you try."
Scorch sighed. "He's shiny Boss. You just sad it." He was far ahead, calling over his shoulder.
"How about instead of glowering and growling you tell him how to do it better."
The group stopped. Fixer held back, let his brothers discuss it.
"Vau would not do it this way." Boss hissed. Tone and body language were enough to make Brook step backwards, but it seemed Scorch took it as a challenge.
He just stepped closer, pushed his shoulders back and his chin up. "He didn't do everything right."
Brook's eyes swayed between the two clones. Something went on, was left unsaid and even he recognized it.
After a moment Boss snorted, and marched past his brothers. "Someone else do it." He said, the woods swallowed him soundlessly.
Brook stared after him, felt uprooted and out of his depth. "Perhaps I should…"
"Perhaps you should listen." Fixer said.
He pointed at the ground. "Scan your way while you walk. Keep an eye on everything."
Brook frowned, was that even possible?
Fixer snipped his fingers. "Brook, I get you are hurt, but that's no reason for not listening. Concentrate."
Brook leaned forward and did just that.
"Now, before we get to moving it seems we really need to cover the basics. Breathe, and not just through your nose until you are panting. I could hear you all across the woods. Keep it even."
Fixer looked up, making sure Brook was still listening, which he was, seemingly soaking up the knowledge with wide eyes.
The commando turned to the trail again, nrealy unnerved by the attention focused on him.
'Now I know what Kal always ways about.' He thought.
" When you need to listen don't hold your breath, open your mouth slightly, make sure you get enough air and, as I said, keep it even."
After a long lecture and a slow, very slow, pace they finally reached the ground. Brook felt like stretching out again. His right leg in particular was protesting heavily.
Brook set the rod and bucket down, stretched his arms out carefully. They hurt too, but not as much as his leg.
Boss was already ankle deep in the water, he pointed at a larger rock, smoothed by the weather.
"Sit down. You can watch and learn." He still sounded rough, but Brook found him more likeable than before. He seemed less tense, like he was more at ease with himself.
Brook followed the order, found that he could even prop his leg up a bit and that felt good.
He considered things for a moment, then spoke up.
"What should I watch?" He asked. Boss didn't react, but Fixer spoke up.
"Well, how to fish, watch what we do, try to see the similarities."
"Ask," was Fixer's only comment.
With that the commandos deemed everything said, so Brook watched the brothers as they fiddled the hooks and bait onto the rods, tried to see the patterns in how they chose their spots.
After a while he started to feel restless. Nothing changed, the clones just repeated the same moment over and over again. Brook bit his lip and made his choice. He stood up slowly, watching the three brothers carefully. None of them reacted, just continued casting out the hook and pulling it back in.
So Brook knelt down carefully, careful to avoid putting pressure on his wounds.
There was an odd amount of different coloured little things and hooks. Brook hesitated, Fixer and Scorch had just taken one, but which one?
Fixer had said to ask, so... "Which one should I take?" He said, then held his breath. Had he spoken too low?
Schooling on Centax-2 had been flash training. No asking questions, no possibility for asking.
Had he said something wrong?
"Second row from the top, second box." Scorch said, sounding as upbeat as ever. "Try a roundturn knot."
Having the fishing rod and bait, there was only a single jar as he discovered with relief, Brook now had to find a spot in the river.
Scorch and his brothers had spaced out evenly in the more shallow water of the river, so he stepped further downriver, 'at least I won't disturb them here.' Brook figured.
He chewed on his lower lip, felt a small sting, and breathed out as he swung the rod over his head. The hook landed with a small 'plop' in the river.
Imitating the movement he had seen by the others Brook retrieved the line.
"Bit ^more relaxed, remember to breath." Boss' voice rumbled behind him.
Brook swallowed, had almost forgotten them and tossed again. Somehow he found a rhythm, balanced the pull of the water and found he enjoyed the movement.
It was an enjoyable afternoon, spend in companionable silence. Although Brook didn't catch anything it didn't seem to matter. The others had a struggling fish on the line more or less regularly, sometimes made Brook get a net, asked him for a hand getting the animals into the buckets.
Brook soon felt the strain, but the calming atmosphere made him want to hang on, continue, before he started to tire too much Boss called them back.
"Come on, we got enough." He called, waved towards the house.
Brook waded out of the water, slipped on stiff legs. A short pain shot up his right leg. A strong, beefy hand caught his arm, skillfully evading the scabbing and the bruised areas.
"Let me take that." Boss said, taking the rod out of Brook's hand. "Just concentrate on walking."
Scorch scoffed. "What, did that hurt vod?" He called.
Brook flinched, but all Boss did was fling a cold fish at Scorch's head. "About as much as thinking hurts you." He snapped, telling grin on his lips.
The brothers packed up in record time, made their way back through the trees.
Fixer waved Brook closer to him. He seemed to preffer green to the earth colors Boss and Scorch wore, nearly faded into the background of the bushes even as he just stood there.
Brook wondered if he did it on purpose, blending into his surroundings like that.
The commando, slightly broader than Brook and slightly taller, waved the spaarti closer.
"So, what did I tell you earlier? Show me." He pointed ahead, where Boss and Scorch were already making headway.
Brook took a deep breath, trying to slip into the movements that Fixer had gone through with him on their way here.
He took a moment to watch the two clones up ahead, then moved.
Fixer followed, smoother, almost soundless and unseen to Brook, a thin smile on his lips.
He had been doubtful when Scorch had approached him, but for once his pyromaniac brother had been right.
It was good to have four people again.
A.N.:
My most sincere apologies.
College has me in it's grip ever since the new year.
I promise that I am working on this story and at least this story arch should be finished before exam season starts.
This chapter has Brook with his new brothers, yep there is some tension there, plot bunny is busy!
So, I love to hear what you think.