Now, we are actually around where the storyline is going, although since this is more of a backstory piece disguised as a current-storyline piece, the recap of what’s happened between the last released story and now isn’t necessary just yet. I’ll add one when knowing what’s currently going on overall becomes relevant.
Every so often, Steirdrar dreamed of Prius.
The dream started the same every time — receiving the assignment of analyzing and improving the planet’s subpar defenses. Apparently, after years and years of fixing the results of enemy sabotage, whoever was in charge had finally gotten tired of the planet and its factories being so vulnerable.
How he was supposed to fix or even noticeably improve the situation without a major allocation of additional resources to Prius’s security (which still was not being done, for whatever reason), Steirdrar was not sure. Nevertheless, it was his job now, and he would do it to the best of his ability.
He might even catch a saboteur or a few in the act while surveying key locations. Interrogating them, if successful, would make his job easier, especially if the saboteur in question knew where else upcoming strikes were planned.
Yes. He could do this. After nodding to himself at the end of his mental checklist, Steirdrar would set out to the cargo ship that would take him and supplies to Prius.
Then the dream would change.
The ruins of the freshly blown up supply depot he had run to in pursuit of the saboteurs he had caught wind of. Smoke, blaring alarms, the seal of the emergency air filter pressing hard against his cheeks, jaw and nose. The sound of emergency vehicles’ sirens in the distance.
The grim Kolton with a rifle pointed at his heart.
“And where has your republic been all these years we and people like us have kept sabotaging your operations and factories here?“
“Do you really think shooting up and bombing civilian locations to root out a few enemies is worth the casualties, ruined businesses and lost homes?“
“How would you feel if your family home and the irreplaceable sentimental items within it burned down as collateral damage because there was a spy hiding in the neighbor’s house?“
“Have you ever witnessed with your own eyes that any of those rebuilding projects you were told about were ever even as much as started? Have you ever gone back to check what was happening and by whose hands?“
“I’m sure you know what happened to the Eskel-Zai who retaliated after their clans were massacred on Thyrif a few years back. What that right? Was any of that just?“
Steirdrar would never be able to even open his mouth to speak, not that he ever had answers. He never had explanations, not even excuses.
He had not had anything to say in response even the first time, when that encounter happened for real, but it was always worse in the dreamscape where the sirens kept on going forever, never coming closer to the site, to the fire raging around them.
He always just stood there, paralyzed by the realization of what he had continued to lie to himself about, the questions continuing to ring in his head, gnawing at his brains like all those brain-eating amoebas that media about Üngd always loved to point out, until a distant foreign voice called for “hairball one“.
After so many repeats, Steirdrar knew that the dream was almost over when that voice rang out.
At the call, the Kolton — Hisa of the Twilight Sky, he had learned from reading intelligence files in real life — slipped away into some hallway that was still clear.
Then the fire would overtake Steirdrar and consume his vision.
Like clockwork, he woke up to that, the smell of smoke still vivid in his mind. After so many repeats of that particular dream, his heart no longer pounded whenever he woke up to that, but he still had to just breathe for a little while to reorient himself in the reality around his bed before getting up.
Careful not to groan out loud, he rubbed his face. Back then, Hisa’s question about the aftermath of the massacre on Thyrif had felt distant, what with him not being involved in any of it, but now that he had become friends with an Eskel-Zai who has been affected by it all, he felt guilty for not having responded to the question strongly. He should have. He had known that many civilians died in their own homes that day, not even given a chance to defend themselves, much less evacuate, by then.
That should have been a wake-up call, to him and to everyone who was right there in the middle of that operation.
But it had not been.
Fuck, it had taken so much worse to force his eyes open.
He took a deep breath. Beating himself up over it was unproductive. At most, all it would achieve was worsening his mental health, which would make him less effective at his current job, not to mention force him to have more therapy sessions, which in turn meant spending more time with someone who looked at him like they would say something like “poor thing” if he was not a two-meter hulking Human with a long service record from the IRS of all places.
He let out a long, silent sigh. Spiraling like this was not good either. And with both Beyari and QWERTY on a mission, he could not look either of them up for a distraction.
…Maybe he could find Cou-1 and Cou-2, see if they need some maintenance… Just talking with them would take his mind off of things, honestly.
Yes. That was a healthy course of action. Actually something he could even mention to someone who cared about his mental health, too, at least someone who would not come off as patronizing in their positive response to it.
With that thought in mind, he heaved himself up. Time to start this damn day.
WindySilver 