“So, things are starting to feel a little tense,” Degar’s voice rises above the others in a bout of surprising authority. “What do you think? Maybe we all hold hands and sing a little song together or something?” The moment is over before it even began.
“It is because of you we are even in this predicament,” hisses Cari, their deep frown visible even through the water helmet that keeps them breathing.
“Don’t –” cuts in Viveca, who stands to her full height beside the bard. Though she still barely reaches his shoulder, the sheer warning in her tone causes a brief ripple of unease amongst their number.
“All I did was tell you all what I learned.” Degar would never use Viveca as a human shield or anything, but if he happens to stand just a little closer, just a little more behind her during this transaction, that’s his business and no one else’s. “What did you want me to do, keep it to myself?”
“If it had saved us all this trouble? Yes.” Palva isn’t nearly as heated as the majority of their crew are, but there’s something terse and weary about her tone that suggests she is just as invested, if not more so.
Beside her, Mica idly twirls around a butterfly blade, cheek pillowed in her other hand like she’s being made to sit through detention. “What’s the big deal? So we go in and kill the Emperor, so what?”
“Absolutely not,” cries T’Tama, at the exact same time Baen crows, “I call dibs!”
“We already have the orb,” Juniper reminds them all, their gentle voice doing little to ease the storm in everyone else’s.
“So — what?” Posey has pulled down her mask by now, frustration written all over her features. “We’re supposed to just let this guy keep doing what he’s doing? What about the people?”
“The people will carry on as they always have,” says Usui, prompting Yudae to look over at him, stricken. He meets her eyes steadily, but there is a note of apology in his tone as he continues. “This is not our fight.”
“Bullshit,” says Faro, hands fisting into balls at his side. “It became our fight the second we showed up here.”
“Is it really so bad to leave the people here a little gift?” It’s not often Signolo partakes in these team discussions, but when he does it’s never for a good reason. “They’ve been quite hospitable to us, wouldn’t you say? Why not relieve them of their current burdens?”
“Haven’t we already done enough?” Kaj’s tone is aggrieved, and for a second everyone remembers the incident at the East Gate earlier that week. Several of them wince or grimace, but Signolo barks out a laugh, delighted.
With a rough clearing of his throat, Ropurrto attempts to draw everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Shall we put it to a vote?”
One by one, they call out their choice. Kaj tallies the numbers off quickly, though it’s obvious even before his grim announcement — it’s a tie.
All at once, all heads turn towards Emerton, their official unofficial leader, who has up until this point been standing off to the side in silence, arms folded across his chest. The muscle in his jaw twitches as he works to find the words, weighing out their options, processing all that has been said.
“You haven’t led us astray yet, Commander,” says Viveca, her bright eyes fierce in fading daylight.
“Whatever you decide, we will heed,” T’Tama agrees. The rest of the team voice their accord, until finally the room falls into a hush once more.
Emerton draws in a deep breath, the decision made.
As the memory fades, so does the shard of the orb; it will reappear in the North Wing, joining the other shards there, and touching it there will trigger no new memories.
no subject
“It is because of you we are even in this predicament,” hisses Cari, their deep frown visible even through the water helmet that keeps them breathing.
“Don’t –” cuts in Viveca, who stands to her full height beside the bard. Though she still barely reaches his shoulder, the sheer warning in her tone causes a brief ripple of unease amongst their number.
“All I did was tell you all what I learned.” Degar would never use Viveca as a human shield or anything, but if he happens to stand just a little closer, just a little more behind her during this transaction, that’s his business and no one else’s. “What did you want me to do, keep it to myself?”
“If it had saved us all this trouble? Yes.” Palva isn’t nearly as heated as the majority of their crew are, but there’s something terse and weary about her tone that suggests she is just as invested, if not more so.
Beside her, Mica idly twirls around a butterfly blade, cheek pillowed in her other hand like she’s being made to sit through detention. “What’s the big deal? So we go in and kill the Emperor, so what?”
“Absolutely not,” cries T’Tama, at the exact same time Baen crows, “I call dibs!”
“We already have the orb,” Juniper reminds them all, their gentle voice doing little to ease the storm in everyone else’s.
“So — what?” Posey has pulled down her mask by now, frustration written all over her features. “We’re supposed to just let this guy keep doing what he’s doing? What about the people?”
“The people will carry on as they always have,” says Usui, prompting Yudae to look over at him, stricken. He meets her eyes steadily, but there is a note of apology in his tone as he continues. “This is not our fight.”
“Bullshit,” says Faro, hands fisting into balls at his side. “It became our fight the second we showed up here.”
“Is it really so bad to leave the people here a little gift?” It’s not often Signolo partakes in these team discussions, but when he does it’s never for a good reason. “They’ve been quite hospitable to us, wouldn’t you say? Why not relieve them of their current burdens?”
“Haven’t we already done enough?” Kaj’s tone is aggrieved, and for a second everyone remembers the incident at the East Gate earlier that week. Several of them wince or grimace, but Signolo barks out a laugh, delighted.
With a rough clearing of his throat, Ropurrto attempts to draw everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Shall we put it to a vote?”
One by one, they call out their choice. Kaj tallies the numbers off quickly, though it’s obvious even before his grim announcement — it’s a tie.
All at once, all heads turn towards Emerton, their official unofficial leader, who has up until this point been standing off to the side in silence, arms folded across his chest. The muscle in his jaw twitches as he works to find the words, weighing out their options, processing all that has been said.
“You haven’t led us astray yet, Commander,” says Viveca, her bright eyes fierce in fading daylight.
“Whatever you decide, we will heed,” T’Tama agrees. The rest of the team voice their accord, until finally the room falls into a hush once more.
Emerton draws in a deep breath, the decision made.
As the memory fades, so does the shard of the orb; it will reappear in the North Wing, joining the other shards there, and touching it there will trigger no new memories.