Chapter Thirty-Six – Aegis – Part Two

A sharp wit is only one component of being a commanding officer, the other is being able to lie your ass off to keep morale high.

- UWO General Markle -

My eyes stir as I feel mana coursing through my extremities. Warmth. A hand grips me tightly. Light sparkles in my blurred eyes as they open. I'm still in the field. The pungent aroma of death is still thick, yet somehow more stale now. The sun is in a different place than before. Cortez however is exactly where I saw her last.

"About time," she seethes.

"I told you I would get around to it," Verantha says, she looks irritated that she has to heal me again, a fact that's confirmed when she says, "Two times in one day, you really know how to waste my mana."

"Sorry," I say, but the word lisps, the tip of my tongue, I think I bit it off.

Verantha gives me an irritated stare, moving her hand toward my mouth. More warmth flows as I feel it regrowing. It's a weird feeling that tastes like lemon drops and Korean barbeque.

"All done."

She sighs, standing.

"What about his fingers?" Cortez asks, holding up my bandaged hand.

Verantha's face cringes. She was really going to leave me fingerless.

"Goddess of Light, hear my prayer, thy humble follower beseeches thy Divine Blessing. Holy magic, blessing of Goddess Amaetha," she says, very unenthusiastically, so much so that she winces, "Sorry Goddess."

Another reprimand?

She repeats it again, this time with the business smile and with more deference.

The bandages bulge as my bones take shape, the tendons and muscles attaching to it, new tissue covering and making skin folds over it. I take off the bandages, I'm missing fingernails, that's normal though, those grow back eventually. Other than that, they're back… I blink, except for my middle finger. It's malformed and tiny, like a scraggly baby finger. I look over at her. She's snickering.

"Oh, sorry. Divine healing has issues some…" she winces again, a spasm going over her body, twisting her face in a bunch.

"You okay?" Barlow asks her.

"It could be worse," Tran says, flicking my baby finger, "Though, I do feel bad for…"

Cortez gives him a look, and he doesn't finish his sentence.

"Apologies," Verantha says.

I feel the grumbling from Abyss as Verantha moves closer to me and repeats the phrase. An ornate necklace dances between her cleavage, if I had to guess it's at least a rare item. Though from the way Abyss is lusting after it, it might be Epic. What it does, I don't know. It's different from her storage ring though, Abyss is only mildly hungry for that. I pull my other hand and sit on it, keeping Abyss far away. She gives me a strange look, shifting her shirt to cover her chest more.

Did she think I was checking her out? Fucks sake. Damn it Abyss.

My little baby finger skips diapers and becomes a full-sized one now. A sigh of relief before I speak.

"Thank you," I say sincerely, not really meeting her eyes. I wonder if she's found out about her companions yet.

[ Blessing Lost ]

For giving a genuine thank you… that tracks. Whatever. At least I kept the twenty percent experience boost for the Emperor Dragonfly and… Trent. My thoughts sour, remembering how my hands battered his skull with the mace.

Verantha nods without another word and departs.

"Okay, what the fuck happened?" Tran asks, in a hushed tone, "What was that black shit that ate the gnome's armor?"

"And the sword," Barlow adds.

"And where the fuck did you go? You ditched us when we were running for our lives dude, not cool," Tran chastises.

"Very not cool," Barlow adds.

Cortez gives me a glance, then looks back at them, they return the glance.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"She knows?" Tran asks, seemingly offended, "You told your girlfriend but not your best friends?"

"Extremely not cool," Barlow says with a headshake.

"Bros before…" Tran begins, but Cortez's raised eyebrows pulls his mouth shut.

I let out a sigh.

"I didn't want you guys to get caught up in it."

"Caught up in what, Jimmy?" Barlow asks, looking around, then leaning in, "Bro, what the hell is going on?"

"Novak!" a voice yells over the cacophony of groans and loud voices around me, "Has anyone seen Novak!"

It's Gilroy's voice. My heart starts to beat a little faster.

"What's the play?" Tran asks, leaning closer now as well, "He saw too."

"He saw?" Cortez asks me, eyebrow twitching.

"Yeah."

She curses under her breath, not once, not twice, but seven times. She's pissed. Least of my worries though.

"Oi, Tran, have you seen…" Gilroy's voice trails off, "Ahh, three shitbags all in one place."

"Shit," Barlow groans.

Tran mumbles the same.

He steps up to us, mouth open but words don't come.

"Sergeant?" Barlow asks.

"Yeah, you uh, you okay Novak?" Gilroy asks.

We all blink at him.

"Yeah, think so, sergeant."

"Good, well, we kind of need to talk about you know what," he says, looking at Cortez, "Excuse us for squad business, Specialist."

"She knows," Tran says, standing at ease now.

I stand with Cortez's help, also going to at ease with the others.

"Right, well. We did a thing," Gilroy says, adjusting his chin strap and rifle, he looks really uncomfortable, "And uh, we kind of need to go over our story of why we shot the off-worlder."

"You shot an off-worlder?" Cortez asks me, eyes looking at me strangely.

"Technically Sergeant Gilroy shot him," Barlow explains.

"Also, technically they're a WHA member and an off-worlder, bigger deal," Tran adds.

"Was a member," Barlow corrects.

"You said she fucking knew!" Gilroy barks at Tran, then adjusting again, "Don't pin that shit on me, he was going to cut us to ribbons. I saved your ungrateful lives."

"Thank you, sergeant," I say, giving him a nod. I've never liked him, but after that, it's hard to hate him. He did actually save our lives. That sword would have killed at least one of us.

I nudge Tran and Barlow, they shoot me a look but say thank you as well.

Gilroy nods, still uncomfortable, "We need to brief sergeant Mwangi, and probably the Lt too."

Dorliac, I wonder how she's doing. Probably running ragged from healing and treating wounded. I should probably be trying to tend to the wounded as well. Shit.

"We have an aid station set up yet?" I ask him.

He nods, pointing off into the distance. I'm about to head over there when I hear a shrill scream. We all turn. It's Verantha, hand over her mouth, eyes bulging, looking down at what remains of Trent. She doesn't seem to have noticed Bregan's bullet-filled chest a couple of paces away. Either that or she never saw what he looked like. Judging from the greasiness on his body, he didn't get out of that armor very often. I wonder how he…

"Let's double time," Gilroy says, nervously scratching his neck and looking at the Cleric in the distance.

She's kneeling down in front of Trent, staring at the wounds on what's left of his face.

"Roger, sergeant," we all say, following behind him.

***

We find Mwangi and Dorliac, both in the aid station, directing the chaos. On the way there, two more Wither Charges slid up my spine. Two that didn't get to the Cleric or a Healer in time. Two more torches. All because I let Abyss get the item… because Trent… because… my mind's spinning, my pulse threading.

"Focus," Cortez says, giving me a caring yet stern look, "Finish line, don't break down yet."

I nod. Deep breaths push the thoughts down.

"Novak, where the fuck have you been?" Mwangi asks.

"He was wounded," Dorliac says, pushing past him and inspecting me quickly, "The Cleric didn't want to fix him up and I was already out of mana stones."

"Didn't want to…" Mwangi looks at me, "What did you do to piss her off?"

Dorliac shakes her head, "Regardless, he's needed in the aid station, you can reprimand him later."

***

Another twenty minutes pass slowly, wound after wound. It all becomes a blur. Our evac still hasn't arrived, and the planes need heavy maintenance before they're cleared to fly again.

I stare at the death tally scrawled on the sheet. Twenty-two confirmed. Soldiers and off-worlders. Nearly an even split. Usually, it's statistically more off-worlders. Being the cannon fodder and all. Command won't be happy with these numbers, but given the circumstances, I'm sure it'll buff. Besides the two they will confirm soon. Bregan and Trent. It's barely any paperwork if an off-worlder dies. A little more for a soldier. But for WHA members, it's an investigation. For two on one mission to die and the majority of the platoons to be alive. Well, that's abnormal.

Compounding that with the divine item drop near our post, and the spatial distortions from my RoD quest. I think our company is going to be put under a microscope. It's not a matter of if they will figure it out now. But when.

I have a pile of notifications in my inbox. Quest rewards that I swiped away, I also don't know how many levels I gained from the gate run yet. I assume at least one. Normal gates don't disperse level-up notifications until after you finish. Unlike the Respec on Death quest that gave the notification right away. Probably a mechanic to ensure people can't level up inside gates and make it easier. Another dick move by the system no doubt.

The Cleric barged into the tent a few minutes ago, her face was flustered. She's still talking with Dorliac and Mwangi. I don't know how much Gilroy and the others told Mwangi, but he keeps looking over at me with that soul measuring gaze.

I'm glad to be doing something to keep my hands busy. Once I finish here, I'll have to face what I've done. The weight of knowing that I'm responsible for so many deaths is staggering. Suffocating. Soul bending. Deep breath. Focus on what's in front of me.

Another five minutes pass before I finish the last wrap. My hands are shaking, damn it.

"Novak," Mwangi says, motioning me to follow him.

I do as he asks. He takes me beside the aid station, out of earshot from everyone else.

"Did you kill Trent?" he asks quietly.

My hand clenches behind my back standing at ease. A deep swallow later and I nod.

"Self-defense?"

I nod again. He stares at me for a bit, before putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Okay, I got you."

He's got me?

"Let's go meet with the others," Mwangi says, giving me a stern glance, "Follow our lead."

"Roger, sergeant."

We walk behind the aid station, toward a lopsided tent with bug guts smeared across it. Cortez is standing outside, she gives me a wary nod. The flap opens and I see the people inside.

Tran, Barlow, Gilroy, Dorliac, Tenny, and her platoon sergeant, the one who doesn't like Mwangi one bit. Each one gives me a measured look as I enter. Verantha is in here too, standing above the bodies of Trent and Bregan. Guess she figured out he was the gnome, or always knew. Doesn't matter now. Time to pay the piper.

Mwangi motions for me to join Tran and Barlow on the edge of the tent.

"Right, everyone's gathered, let's figure this out," Tenny says, pushing up her glasses.

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