Happy late 4th of July to any US readers.
Having finished storing his fresh laundry, Hit set about his second task: finding something, the more ridiculous the better, that could be passed off as tentacles. There were two routes he considered feasible, the organic and the non-organic. He wasn't familiar enough with the planet and its ecosystems, or the outpost and its supplies, to set his mind on either.
He did, however, know who might be able to help him.
Hit took a short flight down to the lake. It was easy enough to locate K'nsi and Cocotte in their bright uniforms. The shorter Pride Trooper was emptying water out of his boots while the taller one was wringing her hair dry.
K'nsi dropped his boot when he noticed Hit approaching. Then he decided he didn't want to stand there with his wrinkly toes sticking out and hastily jammed his foot in the still-sopping boot.
"Uh, hi, how's it going, Hit? Where's Dyspo?" K'nsi asked.
"Taking a nap," Hit replied.
"It's not a dirt nap, is it?"
This question was met by a glare that could instantly freeze water and then shatter the ice it created. Cocotte also punched K'nsi in the shoulder.
"Do you want to get us killed?!" the female Pride Trooper hissed.
"It just slipped out, I'm sorry!" K'nsi cried while rubbing his arm.
"Please ignore him," Cocotte said. "We're both sure Dyspo is fine."
Trying desperately to change the subject and not end up in the middle of a beat-down sandwich with Hit and Cocotte as the bread, K'nsi asked, "What did you guys get up to while we were working with Spot?"
Hit wondered, briefly and idly, what the two Pride Troopers would say if they heard the full and complete truth: that their teammate was having dalliances with an assassin from another universe.
"Laundry."
"No wonder Dyspo took a nap. He hates laundry. And chores. And anything that takes time and makes him stand in one place," K'nsi said.
"He did say he pays you to do his laundry," Hit said.
Cocotte muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "that lazy bum, I told him to stop taking advantage of K'nsi."
The blue Pride Trooper shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a man of many talents, cleaning clothes being one of them."
"How are you at finding tentacles?" Hit asked.
Cocotte and K'nsi exchanged looks. "Tentacles?"
"I'd prefer you not ask."
"There's a mollusk living in the lake that has a few tentacles," Cocotte suggested. "But it tastes terrible and it's covered in poisonous slime."
Hit shook his head. "I don't need actual tentacles. And I'm not going to eat them. I need something absurd that could pass for tentacles, at least for a few seconds."
"So joke tentacles?" K'nsi asked.
"Precisely."
"What about a garden hose? There's one outside the greenhouse."
The assassin considered it. "It would work better if it was smaller and more flexible."
Cocotte snapped her fingers. "I know what you can use. The botanists brought all types of rubber tubing with them. They use it throughout the greenhouse and lab but there are dozens of packs of it in storage. The Pride Troopers will have to reimburse them for it, but I'm sure we could fit it into the budget."
Five minutes later, Hit had several meters of pencil-width rubber tubing in his hands. It was perfect. Soft and supple, but not completely without its own shape and form. He could cut the tubing to any length he desired, easily tie several strands together, weave a whole nest of tentacles if it struck his fancy.
"Yes, this should suffice." Hit wound the tubing up tightly and slipped it into his pocket.
Mission accomplished—except for hashing out the final details regarding the tentacles—Hit turned to leave.
"We were going to get lunch after we got dried off if you wanted to join us. Not saying you have to. Just putting the invitation out there. If you feel like it. But no pressure," K'nsi said.
The assassin pivoted back to his original position. He silently regarded the pair of Pride Troopers. K'nsi and his big blathering mouth withered under Hit's cool gaze.
"You're under no obligation to include me in anything," Hit said. "I know I make you uncomfortable."
"You are intimidating," Cocotte acknowledged. "But you're Dyspo's guest and you're a great training partner for all of us."
"And Dyspo's gotta be fifty percent less mopey since you showed up. He acted like he was pissed at you, but you should have seen him over the last couple of weeks. I mean, I get it now. If nobody wanted to come to my universe after I invited them, I'd feel like garbage, too," K'nsi added.
Hit gave it some thought. These two had been an indispensable help in solving the tentacle situation. And while both of them were visibly nervous, their invitation seemed genuine. At least more genuine than the one from yesterday, where K'nsi had to be elbowed until he remembered his line.
"Alright," Hit said. "I'll join you."
"Great! Feel free to get Robo-Chef warmed up and we'll be there in no time," K'nsi said.
Hit was poking at some sort of dumpling floating in broth when K'nsi and Cocotte entered the cafeteria. He looked up from the mystery soup—that's what Robo-Chef had actually called it, mystery soup—as the Pride Troopers approached.
They moved like prey animals inching towards a watering hole that may or may not contain a crocodile. Hit sighed heavily.
"I have an agreement with Top not to kill anyone within the Eleventh Universe or my life is forfeit," the assassin said. "If that helps you feel any safer."
"It makes me confident I'd be avenged," K'nsi replied. "I guess that's pretty reassuring."
Cocotte face-palmed. Oblivious to his teammate's reaction, K'nsi evidently did find Top's righteous retribution comforting enough to pick up his pace. Despite his much shorter legs, he reached the table before Cocotte.
"Ooh, is that mystery soup?" the blue Pride Trooper asked.
"What is mystery soup supposed to be?" Hit jabbed the floating dumpling again.
"It's a new flavor every week. Sometimes twice a week," K'nsi explained. "I wonder what it is this time."
"My theory is mystery soup is whatever ingredients are about to expire," Cocotte said as K'nsi jogged off for his own bowl.
Hit was sure Cocotte was right but "eat it or it goes into the compost pile soup" wasn't as catchy. The assassin figured, if K'nsi had been ordering mystery soup for weeks and hadn't succumbed to food poisoning, it was safe enough.
"I think I'll get a salad," Cocotte decided.
Hours later, long after K'nsi had polished off the last of the mystery soup, Dyspo rolled out of bed. He had a little stretch, brushed his teeth, made sure his uniform didn't look like he'd just finished a sex marathon, and then went searching for his teammates. He planned to pointedly ignore Hit until "tomorrow," which was at exactly a minute after midnight, at least as far as Dyspo was concerned.
Dyspo came across K'nsi first. He was standing completely still in the middle of the sparring grounds. That seemed like a weird thing to do, so the rabbit approached to see what was up.
"Hey, K'nsi, you okay?"
There was no reply. Or any reaction at all. As Dyspo got closer, he noticed there was no movement either. Not even blinking or breathing. He tuned his ears in and heard no sign of life.
In a span of seconds, Dyspo flew from curiosity to alarm. K'nsi couldn't be dead, he was on his feet! But he couldn't exactly be alive, not without so much as a heartbeat. Unless this wasn't actually K'nsi but was some sort of hologram or afterimage or suspended animation or-
"Over here!"
Dyspo stopped thinking up crazy sci-fi scenarios and turned at the sound of Cocotte's voice. She was waving from the shade of the nearest tree. Hit was seated beside her and looked to be either meditating or sleeping. In the blink of an eye, Dyspo joined them.
"What's going on with K'nsi?" Dyspo asked.
"Hit froze him in time," Cocotte replied.
The rabbit stared at her. "He did what?"
"That was my first reaction. But Hit swore the technique was safe and all the swamp rats he tried it on were fine afterward. K'nsi shouldn't even realize anything happened to him. At least, that's what Hit said."
"Hit better know what he's talking about," Dyspo muttered. Not that there was anyone in the universe, except maybe Marcarita, who'd be more knowledgeable about timey wimey bullshit.
Dyspo's eyes flickered to the assassin in contention. Up close, it was immediately obvious something was wrong with Hit.
"Why are you so sweaty? Hit! Can you hear-"
The Pride Trooper found a hand over his mouth and Cocotte physically dragging him away.
"He doesn't want to be disturbed," Cocotte explained. "That was the last thing he said before he sat down."
Dyspo shrugged out of Cocotte's grasp. "But look at what's going on! K'nsi's a statue and Hit looks like someone dumped a full bucket on him!"
"I know, but he should be done soon. I think."
"How'd you figure that out? Oh, because he'll have to pass out from dehydration before much longer." The rabbit grimaced. "Then he's going to need medical care. This place doesn't even have a proper infirmary. I know there's a first aid kit but none of us are exactly doctors. Can you start an IV?"
"Can I- No! And that's not even what I meant. It's been nearly 48 minutes," Cocotte said.
"So what? Did he say whatever this weird shit is would stop after 48 minutes?"
The female Pride Trooper sighed. "What event that lasts 48 minutes might require Hit to keep someone locked in time?"
The gears of Dyspo's brain turned until the incredibly obvious answer smacked him in the face. "Tournament of Power. Duh. But didn't he try something like that on Jiren, and Jiren blasted his ass right off the-"
Dyspo's comments—especially his casual mention of Hit's humiliating defeat at Jiren's hands—earned him a time-out locked inside Cocotte's barrier. The Pride Trooper rolled his eyes. "You think I can't pop this bubble? I can."
"You can also be quiet for four minutes unless you'd like to lose your cheap laundry service. I'll pay K'nsi ten times what you do to never wash so much as a pair of your socks again."
Dyspo plopped down inside the barrier and crossed his arms. He glanced at Hit then at K'nsi and scoffed at the absurdity of the whole situation. The crap that everyone got up to when he wasn't around to supervise…
Four minutes later, just as Cocotte had predicted, Hit opened his eyes. For a moment he seemed disoriented. Then he shook his head, rattling his thoughts back into some semblance of order.
"Spill," Dyspo said, standing up once Cocotte banished her bubble. "What kind of freaky time trap did you invent here?"
"I didn't invent it here. I used a failed version in the Tournament, which I then altered to catch the swamp rats that would invade my camp any time I left. What you just saw was a further modification for combat." Hit wiped his face. "It needs refinement and significantly more practice."
"And you need some water. Probably some electrolytes, too."
Hit sighed. "I do. I should have quit when I felt what a drain it was on my energy and my body, but-"
"You're a stubborn old bastard and nothing short of passing out or croaking was going to stop you."
"How much farther do you want me to go? Dyspo? When did you get here? And why is Hit all wet? Wait, wasn't that cloud just covering the sun? But it's way over there!" The recently thawed Pride Trooper looked around in bewilderment.
K'nsi's increasingly distressed questions took priority over finding out more about Hit's freshest technique. Cocotte, who'd been witness to the entire event and was a more reassuring face than the diaphoretic assassin, hurried over to her teammate.
"This is going to come as a shock, but you've been frozen in time for the last 48 minutes," Cocotte explained gently.
"But- when- how? I was just walking where Hit told me to go."
"Yes, and you were perfect. What Hit didn't tell you was that he laid a trap along your route. He didn't tell me either until you just...stopped."
"And the trap stopped time?"
"Just for you," Hit clarified. "The world continued around you."
"I don't remember any of it," K'nsi said.
"You wouldn't. Your neurons weren't firing, your heart wasn't beating. For 48 minutes you became a lawn ornament."
K'nsi turned away from Hit and stared at the horizon, contemplating what it meant to lose nearly an hour of time and the implications that came with it. Cocotte took notice of the budding existential crisis and sprung into action. She gently laid her hand on her teammate's shoulder.
"I think we've all had enough for one day. Let's go have a cup of tea, maybe get a little drunk, and watch some cute animal videos," Cocotte suggested.
"That sounds nice," K'nsi said.
Once the two Pride Troopers were on their way to the barracks and well out of earshot, Dyspo looked down at Hit, who was now resting with his back against the tree. "You can't go around freezing people in time."
"I think I can and I did," Hit replied.
"Let me rephrase that. It's cool as hell but K'nsi's going to spend the night staring at the ceiling and he'll be watching his step for the rest of the month. At least. So, please, don't test your crazy mousetraps on anyone else without getting their full permission first."
Dyspo then asked, "Did you really jump from catching rats to catching Pride Troopers? Nothing in between?"
Hit nodded. "I had nothing else to practice on."
"Color me impressed. You sure you don't want to join us? With you, we'd finish missions in no time. Get it? No time."
"It's not going to happen."
The rabbit shrugged. "Can't blame me for trying again. Oh well. Let's get you hydrated before you dry up into dust. Robo-Chef can probably concoct something that's not too gross. Think you can get there on your own or-"
Hit stood in one fluid motion. "I'll be fine."
"You better be. At least by tomorrow." Dyspo grinned lasciviously. "I want to wear you out myself."
Author's Notes:
The phrase "timey wimey bullshit" was clandestinely borrowed from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, and is itself a reference to the long-running British show Doctor Who.
Thanks for reading.
