Chapter Text
One, two, three, four, five.
One, two, three, four, five.
One, two, three, four ….
Elerie is late. Again. Kriff it later's problem. More pressingly, Karo was missing Loki; the three members of the squad look nervous, whilst Thor looked almost skittish like the kid was ready to run at any given moment. This smelled like trouble.
“Thor, where is Loki?”
“Sorry Alpha I haven’t seen him since the last time I saw him.”
“When was that,” Thyme asked, regretting choosing the batch group, he should’ve chosen what is now Maze’s batch and watched Maze deal with this.
“The last time i saw him? Was definitely the time I saw him last.” Well no Osik kid, no kriffing osik.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Ferox had been watching the twins. They were being weird - well, weirder than before anyhow.
They knew things that they shouldn't, spoke in a language that no galactic translator even remotely recognised.
They seemed to be even more inseperable than they had been, tied at the hip, both better in accuracy than their peers by miles, improving at rates far beyond the normal; he had, on multiple occasions, woken to find the pair cross-legged, hands-clasped and unwakeable. At the very least they need to find a new hiding space for that.
"Zeal, we need to talk,” Ferox tried to slow his energetic vod down, to no avail.
"Later, Fer, we've got training now and I want to see Thire and Helios sparring again." Zealous' words tripped over themselves, trying to keep pace with his feet sprinting down the hall, crashing into Thyme in his haste.
If that brother doesn't learn to watch where he's going, he's going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and learn that intentions very rarely make good defences.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
It had been a normal day on Kamino when Loki got accosted by an older cadet bearing a smile promising pointy revenge. The following events are not entirely his fault and he will not take all the blame, but most of the credit certainly.
"A little birdie told me that you have a penchant for pranks and a talent for tricks. The name's Fox, and I have a job for you."
Loki followed the mystery vod into a the small sleeping quarters of a CC batch barrack, where he was introduced to another cadet.
"I'm Cody. This mission is covert trooper, so not a word of this to anyone outside of those in this room. Clear?" the one-day-to-be commander was clearly practising his command voice, and Loki would give the vod his due - it was pretty good. It was offset and undermined by the pink paint can held in one hand and the casket of gold glitter in the other.
The plan of action was as follows:
- Step 1) Paint his armour, weapons and anything you can reach hot pink.
- Step 2) Cover his room in gold glitter, such that he will never be able to clean it all up. That shabuir will never have a day free from Cody's favourite colour again.
- Step 3) Leave a speaker playing the most ridiculously annoying cantina songs in the galaxy in the vents above his room.
"Meet me in the requesition room, corridor 32A at 9AM tomorrow. Don't be late." Fox punctuated his order with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes - one reflected in Loki's own, "We're getting you in through the vents."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
If I can't catch Zealous, then I'll catch '72.
Ferox walked back towards the sleeping pods, hoping to catch '72 on his way to the training mats.
"'72, we need to talk about whatver the kriff is going on with you and Zeal" Ferox approached his brother in the corridor, trying to trap him in a corner.
"What are you on about there's nothing going on Fer, you're being paranoid... don't- don't take after the kaminii vod," '72 tried to joke but the stutter across his words, and his refusal to make eye contact left nothing hidden.
"'72 stop lying to me. I just want to help you hide it - do you know how many cycles I've woken up and found you both unresponsively meditating in the middle of the floor or some kark!?!" Ferox spewed his words with a fervor fuelled by every older brother who has ever been faced with the insanity of secretive younger brothers.
'72 pushed past him, clearly trying to flee the interogation, but he's never managed to hide anything from Ferox before, and he bloody well won't start now. '72 isn't going anywhere until Ferox has answers: he catches '72 by the wrist, where the cadet reds had slipped up.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Loki left Thor to cover for him which to be fair might have been his first mistake: should've gotten '81 to cover for him as he can lie or at least is better at it than Thor. He looked at the supplies the CC squad had given him. This prank would be a little riskier than his previous but for greater gain.
He sped past Zeal on his way to meet Fox and collect his weapons, his vod running late - again.
"Good luck Loki. I trust you'll make our revenge swift and silent."
He hauled a can of paint and the casket of glitter down 3 corridors of vents, careful not to make a sound, not to be noticed. Upon arrival to the trainer's quarters, he noticed that there were cameras focused on the door. Not to worry, they could be painted too - and Loki was a master at remaining unseen.
Step 1) Find and paint all weapons, armour and other posturing devices. There were viroblades left in various hiding places - back-ups no doubt - and holsters for various weapons hung neatly in the wardrobe alongside various spare pieces of armour. They all got a healthy few coats of pink. But he still had most of the can left, and the furniture was looking rather drab...
Step 2) Coat the room in golden glitter. That was easy enough. He went and sat in the vent once more, opened the casket, and watched the room disappear under the shimmering storm. By the time it was empty, the floor looked like the sea under a setting sun (but itchier) and the bed looked like an idol for the god of sleep.
Step 3) Leave a speaker (stored within his belt) blasting the annoying and unimaginative monotony of the galaxy's many, many cantina's and their unique - and indifferent - house bands.
Step 4) Scram, and hope that he can slip into training without Alpha-86 being aware of him.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
'72's heart pounded out of his chest, sweat beading on the back of his neck. Ferox knew. He didn't know but he knew.
FUCK
He prepared to deny everything (knowing, knowing that it would fail, and that he could not lie to his older brother.) but when he looked back to speak, Ferox's eyes had rolled up, only the white schlera of his eyes visible.
"Ferox? FEROX?"
There was no response.
"Shit. I just broke my older brother."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Loki was headed back to training, prank fullfilled, face showing no signs of his satisfaction and glee. However, Zeal had decided that this was the perfect moment to have remembered that he also had training this morning, and couldn't stay to watch the CCs spar.
"...Why did you just emerge from the vents?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"...Was it deserved?”
"Undoubtedly. Now we ought to get a move on - we are rather late you know."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Streaks of colour and sound invaded his mind. Barrages of images flooded his conciousness - set almost consistently in an open and impossible hall. Ceilinged with potions of colour that swirled together without mixing, the celestial space felt like something out of a dream, something divine.
His brothers, two women, and a montage of weapons training, language lessons, intelligence sessions(!?!) and wrestling training. Ferox had never seen his brothers so happy, nor heard them laugh like this before.
How...? How do I make my brother's smile like this again? How do I give this to Lenio, to '71, to 70? How can we have this...?
He heard snippets of conversation: philosophy, legends, history, science, maths, music, art, language, accents, distance, culture, society, books, the holonet, holo-films and series, education. Spoken between the familiar intonation of his brothers and the unfamiliar tones of the strangers, Ferox watched his brothers debate and learn concepts far beyond those that Kamino dictated neccessary for soldiers to know.
Grief, for the life that he was only just discovering that his brother's could have had. Grief, that his younger brothers didn't trust him with their joy.
Darkness slipped over the colour like a shroud.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Do any of you know where your brothers are?" Alpha-86 was growing antsy, the knowledge that it would take a miracle to save his brothers at this point, the intervention of someone sympathetic of which very few are free to intervene at this time in the morning. There is a 0.25% chance of that occuring at this present moment.
"I believe that I saw Ferox insistently cornering '72 in corridor 32B on our way to training. They seemed to be having some sort of argument." ‘70s voice rang clear across the room, more truthful than he had intended to be.
He knows he can be too harsh, speak the truths so brutal that my brothers would rather leave unspoken. 70 knows that the training halls aren't a safe space to admit to faults, but somehow he don't know how to stop. If 70 was asked a question to which he knows the answer, 70 can’t seem to withhold an answer.
"What '70 is trying to say is that Ferox and '72 have lost track of time in their conversations, but are in no way at risk," '71 cut in, clearly trying to cover up his faults, 70s unfiltered information. 72 has always been good at covering 70s tracks, at fixing the failures, taking on the responsibility that 70 had never asked him to, taking on the risks that supporting him brought.
"Thank you '70, for offering me the reality of the situation.'71 that doesn't work in person - you can't just erase what someone else has says."
He had never been praised for his unflinching devotion to the truth before.
"That was cruel '70.”
"Watch your words '70, someone might hear.”
"Thanks '70, I am betrayed by my own brother.”
But if Alpha-86 thinks that an honest view of reality can be a good thing, then maybe he was not a defective waste of space. It's good for reports, for clarity in the chain of command and communication. It's good for building relationships, or so he has heard - though 70 has yet to see that be true.
Maybe Reality doesn't have to be terrifying. Maybe it can be his.
Maybe it could be in his name.
Reality.
Relity
Ralety
Realiten
Realten
Reáltín.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
'72 dragged his brother desperately into the closest doorway - one that luckily opened into a fairly sizable storage cupboard. There was a cleared bench space on which he lay Ferox, trying desperately to wake him without creating too much noise - if they were found then even Alpha-86 couldn't save them now they were 20 minutes late to training with a history of lateness behind them.
"What are you doing in here cadets?" came a vaguely-croaky voice from a hunchbacked silhouette standing in the doorway.
"Shiiiiiiiiiiiit," '72's thoughts devolved into a screaming spiral of swearing. He yanked the figure into the room and scrambled at the lock-mechanism, hoping to the fucking force that he could reason his way out of this alone. "It'll be easy to explain why Im hiding my unconcious brother in a supply closet 20 minutes after training started..."
"You aren't in any danger from me vod'ika, I swear. Which of my brother's are you missing from?"
The figure kept talking, words slipping across '72's brain like the waves off Tipioca city, incapable of tearing down the platfroms of panic that kept '72's secrets afloat.
"Ad'ika talk to me, I can't help you if I don't know anything."
Everything shuddered to a halt within his brain - "...help?"
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Where are those two ads. Ferox is supposed to be a more punctual one"
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Where are you '72?!? What did Fer want to talk to you about - was it really this urgent?"
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Was I too blunt? Please don't hate me brothers, I need you."
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
"Thyme! I believe these are yours vod'ika, found them in my quarters. Ferox here seems to have had a rough morning." Thyme's older brother brought the missing cadets into the training hall and the room let out a sigh of release.
'72 looked less tense than he had been in months, like a weight had been hauled off his shoulders, but it seemed to Thyme that this weight had been transferred to his brother's young shoulders.
"Why do you have my cadets 99?" he sighed
"Ferox hit his head on the way and '72 here panicked slightly, nothing serious."
99 is hiding something, and it clearly can't be spoken here.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
Training continued as if nothing happened, Loki having arrived at somepoint between Realtín's statement and 99's arrival.
~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
A roar of fury was heard all along corridor 31A that evening. The trainer having opened his door to reveal his redecorated quarters, and got glitter in his armour instantly - from the cloud the moving door displaced.
In their barracks, a batch of CCs pulled their stolen CT in closer, faces of satisfaction and vengence grinning sharply at each other.
Loki sat in his bunk with some very handy blackmail on Alphas 17, 26 and 86, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Fox might have handed over his blackmail on the alphas willingly, but he also left Loki with something on him and his batch. He was sure that the trainer at the recieving end of his toils would appreciate knowing who orchestrated his humiliation - and that the CCs would prefer for that particular fact to remain a secret.