The elevator opened one floor early, the doors parted for Aldous Follen. Besca sighed. “[color=lightblue]Good morning, Commander,[/color]” he greeted, stepping in beside her. It was only the two of them, and this lift was quite a ways from medical. He’d come all the way across to find her here, and she half expected him to hit the emergency stop once the doors closed again. Instead he said nothing, only smiled blankly ahead. Somehow she still felt as though they’d been speaking for hours. “[color=gray]What?[/color]” “[color=lightblue]Hm?[/color]” “[color=gray]What do you [i]want[/i], Follen?[/color]” He feigned offense, poorly—couldn’t even hide the grin. “[color=lightblue]I can’t check up on my friend?[/color]” “[color=gray]Checking up on your friend.[/color]” “[color=lightblue]My friend,[/color]” he insisted. “[color=lightblue]Who is very clearly struggling to bear the weight of her honorary diplomatic duties.[/color]” Besca sighed again, as involuntarily as the first. “[color=gray]You heard.[/color]” “[color=lightblue]Saw, more like. Every news channel in Illun is abuzz about it. Casobani dignitaries flying into Eusero; I think even high school newspapers can tell what’s going on there. The imminent erosion of Runa’s union with Casoban, laid at the feet of RISC’s amateur commander, and her uncontrollable pilot.[/color]” “[color=gray]They did not call her ‘[i]uncontrollable[/i]’.[/color]” “[color=lightblue]They will. Even our own people. Once Casoban falls in with Eusero, they’re going to blame Quinnlash’s actions at the duel—and you for allowing them.[/color]” The elevator dinged and opened again. Besca walked briskly like she didn’t want to be followed, and Follen followed. “[color=gray]So what, then? Come to offer some grand solution?[/color]” “[color=lightblue]I already did that, if I recall, you and yours just haven’t been able to deliver. No, I’m here because your theatrics with the Tormont girl are beginning to interfere with my department.[/color]” “[color=gray]What, you didn’t consider getting manhandled as interference?[/color]” she scoffed. “[color=lightblue]I considered it a part of those theatrics, but now things are moving backstage,[/color]" he said. "[color=lightblue]The Board may not want to squeeze you right now, but they’ve certainly made their displeasure known to [i]me.[/i] Our supplies are low, some of our men are sick and being prescribed [i]band-aids[/i]. This morning I received an email giving me reason to believe medical’s [i]payroll[/i] could be held until this situation is handled.[/color]” “[color=gray]They can’t—[/color]” “[color=lightblue]They [i]could[/i], and any public backlash they might face would be forgotten the moment you crack and they get to parade an enemy pilot to her execution. My guess is they’ll give her to Casoban, force us to work together against the inevitable retaliations from Helburke. Doubt it’ll work, but it’s better than nothing.[/color]” “[color=gray]Thank you for your suggestions.[/color]” “[color=lightblue]I’m not making suggestions,[/color] he said, stopping. She paused begrudgingly. “[color=lightblue]I’m telling you to do your job.[/color]” Besca couldn’t help the bristle that made her fists clench; she had to fight the urge not to grab him by the collar and show him what [i]real[/i] interference looked like. But she took a deep breath instead, lips curling into a sneer. “[color=gray]That sounded awful close to frustration, Aldous. If you’re not careful you might accidentally [i]feel[/i] something.[/color]” Of course then he grinned again, which was enough to remind her how impossible that really was. “[color=lightblue]Good luck, Commander,[/color]” he said, then turned on his heel and walked away. Part of her missed being colleagues—it didn’t look so bad when she yelled at him then. These days she did all her screaming on the inside. [hr][hr] She found Deelie in the sims. The monitors were off, but the readings came through normal at a glance. There was only one supervisor on shift, and, without anything to watch or any need for direction on the comms, there wasn’t much for them to do. So, when Besca came through the doors, they hastily took their feet of the desk, and wiped the drool from their mouth. “Commander!” they started, but Besca waved them at ease. “[color=gray]How long’s she been in there?[/color]” “Uh, well,” they checked the terminal, blinking the sleep from their eyes. “She was in before my shift.” Besca balked. “[color=gray]Since last [i]night[/i]?[/color]” “Since…uh…yesterday afternoon.” She’d sent Deelie a text reminding her to get something to eat before she came back to the dorms. Now she knew why she’d never gotten a reply. “[color=gray]Cut the sim.[/color]” “But,” the supervisor started, but a sharp glance told them Besca’s generosity was waning. “Yes ma’am.” She made her way out to the row of pods as one opened, and Deelie sat up. The girl seemed a bit bewildered, but mainly she just looked exhausted. When she saw Besca, a little life returned to her and she waved happily. “[color=skyblue]Heya,[/color]” she said blearily. “[color=skyblue]Where’s Quinn?[/color]” “[color=gray]Asleep, because it’s six.[/color]” “[color=skyblue]In the…?[/color]” “[color=gray]Morning, Deelie.[/color]” She helped the girl out, and held her steady while she shook the feeling back into her legs. “[color=gray]Seriously, you had two slices of toast yesterday, and this is the third day this week you haven’t slept.[/color]” “[color=skyblue]Mmh. Gotta.[/color]” “[color=gray]No, you [i]gotta[/i] go back to the dorms, lie down, and [i]sleep[/i]. I’ll make it an order if I have to.[/color]” Deelie looked at her, the haze clearing in her eyes just long enough for Besca to see how anxious they were. “[color=skyblue]Have to be ready,[/color]” she said. “[color=gray]You have to be functional. The sims will still be here in twelve hours—which is when you’re allowed back in. Go.[/color]” “[color=skyblue]‘Kay. Sorry.[/color]” “[color=gray]Not mad at you, hun,[/color]” she said, running a hand through Deelie’s fraying hair. “[color=gray]Just…worried.[/color]” Deelie nodded mechanically. The hours were starting to catch up to her. “[color=skyblue]Me too,[/color] she said, and walked away. [hr][hr] In her waking moments, as the warmth of her dream sloughed away, Quinn would feel a sharp chill pass over her. It slunk in through her cracked-open door, and moved across her bed as though she had no sheets at all. It touched her to the bone, not cruelly, but intently, as if to say: ‘[i]Alright, time to get up.[/i]’ Distantly, she might have heard something she could easily have mistaken for hoofbeats. A shadow passed by her room, large and antlered, and then it was gone—or perhaps it hadn’t been there at all. Her door opened wide, and standing there was not some ghostly beast, but the silhouetted form of her sister. Dahlia wobbled at the threshold, but eventually found her bearings and made her way in, step by shaky step until she nearly tripped into Quinn’s bed. This wasn’t the first time Dahlia had come to sleep here, and in fact, since they’d found out about [i]Dammerung[/i], it seemed she spent more nights here than in her own room. It was like she’d grown afraid to leave Quinn alone; then again, she had also been holing herself up in sims most days. “[color=skyblue]G’night…[/color]” she mumbled, absently patting Quinn on the head. Moments later she was fast asleep. Dahlia’s day had ended, but Quinn’s week had just begun.