Valiant: Tales From The Archive

[CURSEd #33: The Debt Comes Due]

Log Date: 2/5/12765

Data Sources: Darrow Bennion, Ilyana Kemaim

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Inner Crescent Hallway

10:35am SGT

…and as a result, communication is the most important facet of any relationship, whether traditional or non-traditional. In a multinational survey of relationship counselors conducted by the Marshy Institute of Statistics and Trends, 91% of respondents stated that communication issues were the most common issue they saw in their clientele. A further 68% stated—

I take a second to swipe to the side on my data slate, taking me to the next page of text. This time of day, it’s easy to read and walk at the same time, since there aren’t many people traversing the halls. Most times I usually sit down to read, but when I’m tackling material that has some heft to it, reading becomes less of a leisure activity, and more something to actively work on. 

—that communication issues in the general were a key determinator of whether client relationships could be improved or salvaged. In another survey of people who were in long-term romantic relationships that had three or more people, 84% of respondents stated that communication was the most important element of—

“Well well well, look who’s learning how to juggle.”

The voice comes from behind me and to my right; I turn around to see that there’s a hand being held over my shoulder… and in the center of the hand is a primitive eye.

“WwwaaAAAAHH WHAT THE HELL.” I yelp, staggering away from the hand and whipping around as I do so. It turns out that it’s attached to red-feathered avian vashy, dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket. The recognition is almost instant — it’s Kenkai Gekku.

“Oh, did that freak you out?” they smirk, the eye in their palm closing as they lower their hand. “And here I was expecting more from a battle-hardened Peacekeeper.”

“What are you doing here?!” I exclaim. “I knew they were trying to recruit you, but I didn’t think they’d actually let you onto the HQ!”

“Oh ho ho, look who’s regretting the consequences of his actions!” Gekku crows, looking insufferably smug. “Maybe you should’ve thought twice about trying to recruit me, mmh?”

“Oh screw off.” I say, narrowing my eyes at them. “You and I both know the only reason I did that is because I was ordered to.”

Gekku snorts. “Normally I’m the one doing the screwing, but it looks to me like you’re the one reading up on how to have your cake and eat it too.” they say, pointing coyly at my data slate. “I could give you some tips, if you like. I’m done my fair share of industry threesomes.”

“I think I’ll pass, thank you very much. A porn actor is the last person I want to get my relationship advice from.” I say icily, starting to walk again.

“Aw, now that’s just low.” Gekku says, doggedly following along. “So, who’s the lucky ones? Is it Whisper and that other girl that was with you when you showed up at R34?”

“If you think that I’m going to disclose details of my personal life to someone like you, you’re delusional.” I say, locking the screen of my data slate. “Don’t you have something better to do? I assume if you’re here in the HQ, it’s because you’re about to get sent out on an assignment.”

“Mmm, I’ll tell you if you tell me who else is in this mysterious polycule of yours.” Gekku says, staying close by my shoulder as I continue on my way to the mess hall.

“No. I’m not going to treat details about my personal life as bargaining chips.” I say, tucking my slate under my arm. “Now, is there something I can help you with, or is that all?”

“Hey, don’t get all hissy with me.” Gekku scoffs. “You and Whisper and that other girl dragged me into this, so you have to deal with me now. I just wanted to be left alone and go about my business, but no, you three strongarmed your way into my workplace and pushed another job on me. The only person you have to blame for this is yourself.”

I grumble at that, because it isn’t technically wrong. Still, it’s not like I’d wanted to recruit them — I was just following orders. “What do you want, Gekku? Is this you trying to get even for us dragging you out of your cushy life on Talingrad?”

Gekku shrugs. “I’m not asking for much. Just need someone to hang out with. I’m a social creature and you can’t socialize if you don’t have people to socialize with.”

I massage my forehead. “Could you not have chosen literally anyone else? Why’d you pick one of the people that arrested you? Do you have Seraph Syndrome?”

“Who knows, maybe I do. Would it be easier for you if I looked like a familiar face instead?” Gekku says, their exterior rippling as they assume Whisper’s likeness instead.

“No.” I say immediately, taking my slate out from under my arm. “Don’t ever do that. If I ever catch you trying to impersonate one of my friends, I’m going to beat you senseless with whatever I have at hand.”

“Alright, alright, relax your murder boner, big guy.” Gekku says, rippling back over to their standard appearance. “Just trying to make it easier for you.”

“You can make it easier for me by not reading over my shoulder or prying into my personal affairs.” I say, sliding my data slate back under my arm. “I’ll think about it, and if you don’t annoy me further, then maybe I might invite you out to drinks at some point.”

“Would it help if I brought back some juuuuicy information from my next assignment?” Gekku asks, wiggling their shoulders suggestively. “Intelligence-gathering missions always vacuum up a little more than they’re intended to. There’s a lot of interesting little tidbits you come across while you’re digging for pearls.”

I roll my eyes, letting out a sigh. “Yes. Fine. Whatever. If you bring back interesting information from your next assignment, I’ll sit down for drinks with you. But it has to actually be interesting, not just random information that can’t be used for anything.”

“Great, we’ve got a deal!” Gekku exclaims. “I get the goods, you buy my drinks. Classic spywork. This’ll make things soooo much more interesting. I’ll get out of your hair now!”

“Wait, hold on now, I never said I would pay for your drinks!” I protest as they turn and skip off just as quickly as they came. “Hey! Did you hear me? I said I never agreed… look, I’m already paying for someone else’s drinks! Are you even listening to me?”

If Gekku can hear me, they’re choosing not to respond as they gallivant off. Letting out an aggravated exhalation, I turn and resume my track towards the mess hall, grumbling under my breath as I go. While it wouldn’t be a drag on my finances — I made a considerable amount of money as a Peacekeeper — I’d rather not be known as the guy that pays for favors with free drinks. Unlocking the screen of my data slate, I pull up my messaging app so I can tap out a text to Kent.

I didn’t want him to think I was trying to replace him, and besides, our booth at Gritter’s only had enough room for one moocher at a time.

Encyclopedia Galactica

Seraph Syndrome

Alternately debated and scorned in psychology circles across the galaxy, Seraph Syndrome is the more popular name for a condition that is referred to by the medical community as Adversarial Sympathy Subversion. The condition, as described in several diagnosis manuals, is when an individual is trapped for a length of time with a person with whom they have an adversarial relationship, and over the duration of this time, develops sympathy or affection for their adversary.

While the science behind the condition has been hotly debated, the existence of the syndrome itself is not in question. There have been many documented and high-profile instances of Seraph Syndrome over the last century alone, ranging from a Venusian princess that was kidnapped for ransom and fell in love with one of her mercenary captors, to a group of hostages that adopted the political leanings of the terrorist cell that took them hostage during a standoff with security forces. These are just a few of the more widely reported and publicized instances, but psychologists state that these are more extreme examples, and Seraph Syndrome more commonly manifests in less charged circumstances and over longer periods of time, such as in prisons, mental health institutions, and other facilities, programs, or situations where attendance is involuntary and one group is charged with controlling or confining the other group.

Studies and close investigations of the syndrome and those that have suffered from it seem to reveal that it is attributable in part to the humanoid tendency for empathy and connection, but also requires a specific set of circumstances or factors to be met in order for the syndrome to manifest. Not all of the factors need be met in order to manifest the syndrome, but at least some of them must be present in order for the situation to be conducive to the manifestation of the syndrome. The major factors, as composed by a board of psychologists studying the phenomenon, are listed below, in no order of importance:

• charisma on part of the captor or captured
• a sympathetic narrative for the captured, or a righteous cause for the captor
• similarities in worldview between the captor and captured
• close alignment in the moral or value systems held by the captor and captured
• decently comfortable accommodations for the captured
• conventional physical attractiveness on the part of the captor or captured
• regular contact between the captor and captured, with interactions being long enough for conversations of moderate length and depth
• other minor or domestic commonalities, separate from the central conflict, that the captor and captured can bond over

In popular media, Seraph Syndrome shows up across a broad range of narrative mediums, most often used as a vehicle for romantic, tragic, or comic themes. While portrayals of Seraph Syndrome in fiction often highlight the more common features of the syndrome, the narrative representations of the syndrome are more often a vehicle for helping tell a story rather than an accurate portrayal of the reality of the phenomenon. Due to its presence in narrative media and the outlandish scenarios it can create, public awareness of the syndrome tends to be higher than many other, more common psychological phenomena.

The term ‘Seraph Syndrome’ does not predate the condition itself, and was not actually coined by an expert in the medical field. It instead originated from a professor in the literary field as a reference to Mistofelees and Seraph Viralis, mythological figures that started off as adversaries, and after a prank that ended in them being drunkenly married to each other, eventually became inseparable. The term was used to describe the trope of literary characters that found themselves in similar situations, and the term found its way into popular culture with the release of the action-comedy holomovie ‘The Seraph Syndrome’ (circa 12713), about a pair of rival intelligence agents tasked with kidnapping and extracting information from each other. The commercial and critical success of the holo helped popularize the term, and sparked a resurgence in enemies-to-lovers narratives within the media landscape…

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Gritter’s Bar

2/6/12765 7:37pm SGT

“You okay? You’re looking a little more pressed than usual.” I say as the waitress heads off, leaving us with our drinks. Kent is slouching in his side of the booth, melting into the leather with a long sigh.

“You don’t wanna know. It’s been crazytown over here ever since Tirsigal.” Kent says, picking up his beer and taking a sip. “They’ve had you and the girls out on assignments for most of the last month, but they’ve had the rest of us ramping up to wartime footing in the last couple of weeks. Readiness drills, equipment checks, function testing for station defenses, the whole nine yards. Administration’s taking this seriously.”

“Yeah, I did notice things seemed a little bit busier than usual.” I say, looking around and noticing that I’m not seeing quite as many people in the bar tonight. “Wartime footing, you say? Is it really that bad?”

“Administration seems to think it is.” Kent says, rubbing his nose. “Whole galaxy’s on edge right now. No one’s ‘fessed up to nuking Tirsigal, so that means there’s a group out there that might still be running around with a worldkiller weapon, assuming it’s not a single-use thing. So there’s that, and then nobody knows what the Collective is planning to do. But they’re congregating, and it’s never a good sign when they start doing that.”

“Hope it doesn’t turn into a war.” I mutter, sipping from my stein. “We don’t need that right now. Or ever, honestly.”

“I agree with that, but if they do go to war, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Kent says. “Any other nation would do the same thing if you suddenly subtracted seven billion citizens from their population register. Governments don’t let that kind of thing just go.”

“Yeah, but who would they be going to war with?” I point out. “We still don’t know who did it. At least, I haven’t heard anything on that front, and the Collective hasn’t made any moves yet.”

Kent looks around, then hits the button for the privacy screen. As the blue shimmer goes up around his booth, he leans forward. “Think Prophet and the COS have something to do with it.” he says, keeping his voice low. “After Prophet got bodied on Valcorria, he came back to the HQ after he got out of the hospital, but he didn’t stay for long. He left a few days ago for the Losinadae System, and CURSE isn’t sending him there — he’s going either of his own accord or on some other business separate from CURSE.”

I sigh. “This again, Kent? Look, I know you don’t like the guy, but—”

“Dare, I’m being serious.” Kent cuts me off. “You’re right; I hate the guy. But this goes beyond that. I have… people I talk to. They tell me Prophet’s on their radar.”

I rub my temple. “You expect me to believe that Prophet was responsible for torching Tirsigal.”

“I don’t know, Dare. All I’m saying is that there are some warning lights blinking.” Kent says, pushing forward in spite of my skepticism. “He might play it reserved on the outside, but the man has pull in the COS. And the more I hear about him, the more concerned I am. From what I’ve heard and seen, the man wouldn’t hesitate to commit genocide in the name of his goddess, and the only reason he hasn’t done so is because nobody’s given him access to the big red button.”

“Alright, well that’s not a problem so long as that continues being the case, right?” I point out. “I assume the people he answers to know his tendencies and that’s why they’ve kept him away from the big boy toys so far.”

“You’re not hearing me, Dare.” Kent says, emphasizing his words. “The reason this is coming up is because after Mokasha, there are people in the Confederacy that have been considering giving Prophet access to the red buttons. I didn’t think they’d really do it, but then Tirsigal happened. And if they let him push one of the red buttons, they’re gonna let him push the others.”

“Alright then.” I say, leaning back on my side of the booth. “Where’s your proof?”

Kent sighs, slumping back again. “You know that’s not how I work, Dare.”

“Well, that’s how the rest of the galaxy works. If you’re gonna accuse someone of genocide, you need to bring the receipts.” I say, sipping from my glass. “I know that Prophet’s hardly a paragon of tolerance, but wiping out an entire planet is a bridge too far, even for him. And I’m pretty sure that the top brass in the Confederacy understand that too. So unless you’ve got some actual, solid proof that he has access to a superweapon, and the authority to use it, then you should probably keep your accusations to yourself.”

Kent shakes his head. “I’m tellin’ you, Dare. We’re gonna regret having worked with him. Might not be now, or any time soon, but eventually CURSE is gonna look back on this and realize that partnering with SCORN was a bad idea.”

“We’ll see.” I say, taking the opportunity to pivot the conversation elsewhere. “On another note, thanks for the Krysmis basket. I appreciated it.”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, don’t mention it.” Kent says, picking at an oil smear on his gray work uniform. I can tell that he knows what I’m doing, but he isn’t gonna fight it. “Figured you and the girls could do with something nice after you got back from Avvikerene. Seemed like that assignment was really hard on you guys.”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah. It was not something I ever want to repeat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No. Not right now. And not because it’s classified, but because it was a difficult experience, and I don’t think I’ll be ready to do that anytime soon.” I answer quickly. “If there’s one thing I can say, it’s the first assignment in a long time that’s gotten me to see a therapist.”

“Dang. That rough?”

“Yeah. In case you were ever curious about visiting Avvikerene, I’ll tell you right now: don’t go.”

“I mean, are regular people even allowed to go there? I did some snooping around while you guys were gone, and it seems like travel to that system is restricted. Seems like a lot of the major passenger starlines won’t transport there.”

“Yeah. They don’t want liability or lawsuits for people that go there and never come back.”

“I know you told me not to go, but man, this is making me curious.”

“Curiosity will get you killed on Avvikerene, or worse. If you value your peace of mind, Kent, you will do everything you can to avoid the place. I wish I’d known beforehand what I was getting into — if I had, I might’ve pushed back and refused to take the assignment.”

“Alright, alright, big guy, I get it. Not a place to mess around with.” Kent says, taking gulp of his beer, then nodding to my data slate. “…it wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with your sudden interest in polyamory, would it…?”

The screen on my data slate is locked and blank, but I instinctively reach for it as I feel heat rise to my face. “Why does everyone feel the need to read over my shoulder? Is that why you were hovering beside me when you arrived tonight?”

Kent smirks. “I mean, I usually catch you reading intel reports or mission briefs, so I was hoping to skim something spicy. I didn’t expect it to be that spicy, though.”

“It’s not spicy!” I protest, trying to scrounge together a coherent explanation. “It’s more like… proper communication techniques for non-traditional relationships, and, and… dispelling myths around non-traditional relationships, and like, setting expectations for what they’re actually like, instead of the way they’re often portrayed—”

“Mhmm.” Kent says, still smiling smugly. “And your interest in that is purely academic, right?”

“I mean, I, I, I felt like, it would be, a good thing to educate myself on the topic, so I would have a better understanding of people that aren’t. Like. Me.” I stammer, fully aware that my face is probably as red as it feels.

Kent just sways his stein back and forth by the handle as continues smirking. “Oh, yes, of course. Because a good little Christling like you would never consider such a radical approach to romance. Remind me again, when was the last time you went to church?”

“Hey, I was in church a little over a month ago when I went back home and visited my family.” I say quickly, pointing my finger at him. “So you can’t say I’m not attending.”

“Okay. And when was the last time you went to church before that?” Kent says, bouncing right back with the followup.

I open my mouth, then close it. “…okay, look. Just because it’s not a regular thing for me doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. There are some people that only show up for Ester and Krysmis services, and that’s like, what? Twice a year?”

“Sure, sure.” Kent says, sipping from his stein. “So, do Whisper and Kwyn know what you’ve been reading up on lately?”

I clamp my mouth shut with that, looking down and fidgeting with my stein.

“Oh hoho.” Kent chuckles, setting his glass down and lacing his fingers together under his chin. “You didn’t find that book on your own. You got that recommendation from them, didn't you?”

I give a hasty shrug. “Look, I— y’know, there’s nothing wrong with being openminded, and, i-it’s not like I’m committing to anything, per say; I just… agreed to have an open mind, and learn a little bit more about the topic, and, and, y’know… evaluate it objectively.”

Kent snickers, leaning back. “Yeah. Sure you did. I was wonderin’ how that little love triangle would shake out, and I gotta say, I didn’t expect this. But I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Look, there’s nothing going on right now.” I assert, motioning to my data slate. “There is nothing official, nothing official at all. All we’ve done, is we’ve talked about it, and decided that we should probably do some research, and see if it’s something that we’d be interested in, or if it would even be possible for us, and that’s all. We’re just doing our homework right now, and maybe something happens, or maybe nothing happens, but there is nothing official right now.”

“Dare.” Kent says, setting his stein down. “Two S-class ladies gave you a book on polyamory and non-traditional relationships and asked you to do some reading.” He leans forward, planting his hands on the table. “HOW MUCH MORE OF A HINT DO YOU NEED.”

I blow out a sigh. “Kent, it’s not as simple as that—”

“Look, I agree, women can be a little confusing and complicated sometimes.” he says, pointing at my data slate. “But something like this? That is pretty straightforward, Dare! Like, coming from a man? That would be considered subtle. But coming from a woman? That’s like having a neon sign shoved in your face. TAKE. THE HINT.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to bring this up around you.” I grunt. “Because you just can’t contain yourself. I knew you would want this to be a thing.”

“Yeah?” Kent says, folding his arms. “So are you saying you don’t want this to be a thing?”

“Well, no, I’m not saying that.” I say hastily. “I do— well, I, I suppose I want… y’know what? We’re taking it slow. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Uh-huh.” he says, picking up his stein again and sipping from it. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, big guy.” I can see a quick flash of inspiration in his eyes, and he quickly lowers his stein to add, “Of course, you’re probably sleeping good when you’ve got two ladies you need to keep happ—”

“Stop! Enough. Enough about me. When’s the last time you got laid, huh?”

“Well, if you really must know…”

“I… I don’t, actually. I changed my mind. Don’t answer that question.”

“No no, please. You sounded very interested in it…”

Event Log: Ilyana Kemaim

CURSE HQ: Executive Decks

2/8/12765 11:09pm SGT

“Helpful pointers, my ass. ‘Oh, just cut off his head instead! That’s the best way to incapacitate a vampire!’ Are you kidding me? Does she even know how sharp a blade has to be to shear through a spinal cord without getting stuck halfway through?” I grumble to myself, stalking down the hall that the Administrator’s office is on. Meetings are being held with all of the Peacekeepers involved in the Library assignment, apparently identifying points of failure and reviewing them with the operatives responsible.

My review boiled down to the fact that I apparently should’ve cut off Songbird’s head instead of impaling him. I kinda understood where it was coming from — impaling Songbird hadn’t kept him down, and he’d continued to be a nuisance afterwards — but being told I should’ve beheaded him wasn’t realistic. Severing a head was a lot harder than it looked, especially if the person wasn’t incapacitated or otherwise being held still. There was a reason guillotines and executioner’s blocks were engineered the way they were; taking someone’s head off usually required gravity, strength, and a vertical approach. I’d learned during my time in Accounting that you either needed ridiculous strength or a ridiculously sharp sword to take someone’s head off horizontally.

The whole thing had left a sour taste in my mouth, amplified by the fact that the feedback was coming from someone that spent the majority of her time behind a desk. It’s always been implied that Tenji’s had prior field experience, but I’ve never once seen her out in the field, beyond the trip to Chibundi to get the Spark. Even then, it was hardly a dangerous outing; she was surrounded by half a dozen Peacekeepers while deployed to an area that had no hostile forces present. I’d never seen any evidence that she did anything but lead from behind a desk, so getting a lecture from her about how I should’ve handled a combat situation really rubbed my fur the wrong way.

I’m still fuming about it when I round the corner and run right into Gossamer, who’s headed in the direction I just came come.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re going!” I snap at her, staggering to the side.

“Jeez! Make some noise, why don’t you? How am I supposed to know you’re there when you skulk around like a ghost?” Gossamer hisses back at me, mirroring my movement.

I glare at her. “Bitch.”

She scowls back at me. “Cunt.”

“Whore.”

“Floozy.”

“Bimbo.”

She scrunches up her face when she runs out of derogatory names to sling at me, and I sneer at her. “Haha! You lose. I’ve got the bigger vocabulary.”

That gets her to narrow her eyes. “Calyri’ashka.”

“Hey, nope! Foreign languages are off limits, you’ve gotta use galactic common.” I say quickly, pointing at her.

Gossamer rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time on you. I’ve got better things to do.” She turns with that, stalking down the hallway, and I stick my tongue out at her as she walks away. Rounding the corner we’d collided around, I make it a couple strides, then slow down and stop; apparently I’d been moving so quietly that Gossamer hadn’t heard me, but I can hear her. Particularly the thump of her boots and the cadence of her stride, and it sounds… a little off.

Coming back to the corner, I peer around to watch her walk down the hall, and I realize that her walking pace is a rushed stride, like how you move when you want to run, but you’re not allowed to. Something’s got her wound up, and she needs to get somewhere quickly; on top of that, she walks right past the door to the Administrator’s office. Something’s up, and it must be important if Gossamer’s still roaming the executive levels near midnight.

Grabbing the hood of my jacket and pulling it over my head, I activate my cloaking and slink around the corner, moving quickly to catch up with her. It looks like she’s heading towards the end of the hall, and once she gets there, she rounds the set of stairs leading up to the next floor. Once I catch up with her, I remain at a distance of six or seven feet behind her as she starts along the hallway of the next floor up. This is where the Administrator’s residential suite is, so she’s clearly planning on talking with Tenji — just not in her office.

Sure enough, she stops in front of the door to Tenji’s suite, tapping the doorbell pad next to it. When there’s no response and it asks to take a message instead, Gossamer folds her arms. “It’s Chi. Something’s come up. We need to talk.” As she’s saying this, I notice how one of her feet is up on its toes, her knee bouncing impatiently; I hadn’t noticed it when I ran into her, but she’s tense, almost like she’s in fight or flight mode.

It’s about a half minute more before the door unlocks and slides open, revealing Tenji in her pajamas and looking a good deal more laid-back than she usually is in her suit and tie. Her red hair’s down, instead of being bound back in a ponytail, and it looks like she’s wiped away any traces of makeup she may’ve had on during the day. “Hey Chi. Closed-door conversation?” Tenji asks.

Gossamer nods, and Tenji turns and heads back into her room, motioning for Gossamer to come in. As Gossamer does so, I quickly follow, slipping in behind her and immediately slinking into the corner to the side of the door, remaining as still as I can to reduce any cloakshimmer. Gossamer waves the door shut behind her, not really looking back as she follows Tenji into her living room, where it looks like Tenji has a video paused on her central holoarray.

“So what’s the issue?” Tenji asks, sitting down on her couch and looking up at Gossamer. “Is it work or personal?”

“Work.” Gossamer says from where she’s gravitated towards the bar counter that divides the kitchen from the living room, running her fingers along the glossy marble. “I’ve got a favor I need to ask of you, and it’s really important. It has to do with the group of Preservers that we’re contracted with.”

Tenji tilts her head, her brows furrowing; that evidently comes as a surprise to her. “Oh, the Drifters? Didn’t know you were keeping up with them. Have they done something that’s affected you?”

“Mm, no, it’s…” Gossamer begins, then tilts her head down and leans her weight on the hand she’s got on the counter. “Look, I need you to just… let them be. I know they’re being really difficult and they’ve got one of our big assets, but I need you to just let them go and let them do what they need to do. Don’t send any recovery teams or Peacekeepers after them; just let them do their thing and get it over with.”

Tenji’s brow remains furrowed. “Who told you we were going to send a team after them if they didn’t comply? The only people I had that conversation with were Nazka and SCION.”

Gossamer rolls her lips in, pressing them tight, and doesn’t meet Tenji’s dark red gaze.

That seems to tip Tenji off to the fact that there’s something else at play here, and she leans into the couch, hooking an arm over the back of it like she was settling in for a longer conversation. “Spit it out, Chi. What’s going on?”

Gossamer blows out a long sigh. “I owe someone a favor.” She’s still avoiding looking at Tenji; she obviously doesn’t like admitting this, but the fact that she’s folded and come clean this quickly speaks to the relationship she has with Tenji. Gossamer is usually a prissy bitch that wouldn’t ask for help if she was up to her elbow in a dragon’s mouth; these two clearly go back a long way if she’s dropping her guard so easily. “And that person is currently aboard the Dandelion Drift.”

Tenji frowns. “You owe a debt? To one of the Drifters? They barely have their shit together on a good day; how did you end up owing them this kind of intervention?”

“It’s not one of the Drifters. It’s someone else that’s currently traveling with them, that has a vested interest in making sure they handle the task they’ve been given.” Gossamer says, still avoiding looking directly at Tenji. “I owe him a favor, and he called it in earlier today.”

“Of all the times…” Tenji mutters, rubbing her forehead. “Tell him you’ll have to take a rain check on that favor. The Drifters have gotten way out of control; we can’t have them running amuck at a time like this. We’ve already got enough trouble on our hands without shuffling more wildcards into the deck.”

“I can’t.”

I find myself wishing I’d thought to pull my phone out and record this entire conversation from the start. Just the audio alone would’ve been a goldmine, and the look on Tenji’s face when Gossamer declines her suggestion is priceless. It’s the look of someone who’s gotten accustomed to giving orders and getting her way, so having someone tell her ‘no’ is almost disorienting to her. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“It’s not a normal favor, ‘Ji. This wasn’t a handshake agreement or a backroom deal; this favor I owe is magically binding. If I don’t honor it, there are consequences.”

“What kind of consequences?” Tenji demands, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and looking almost indignant.

Gossamer shakes her head. “I don’t know. It was never specified. He might come to collect my soul if I don’t follow through, or something along those lines.”

“Your soul? What the hell, Gossamer? What did you do that this guy can take your soul as collateral if you flake on him?” Tenji asks incredulously.

Gossamer sucks in a deep breath through her nose. “He’s a demon Lord. I ran into him twenty or thirty years ago while I was on a Challenger mission. Long story short, he bodied our squad and I was the last one standing, but he agreed to spare me and the others in exchange from a favor, from me, that he could call in at any time he desired. And I agreed, because… I couldn’t let my squad die. So, here we are now.”

“A demon Lord. Okay, it’s starting to come together now.” Tenji mutters, pushing off the couch and standing up so she can start to pace. “So that’s what she meant. There is actually a demon Lord on the ship. Shit.”

Gossamer finally looks at her, though by this point, she’s staring at a turned back. “Wait, someone already told you about the demon Lord?”

“Lysanne. One of the Drifters.” Tenji says, gesturing a hand to the side. “She snapped and went ballistic during the last conference call we had with the Drift. Said something about a demon Lord being onboard, but I thought she was just being hyperbolic. And it’s this same demon Lord that you owe a favor to, I assume.” Tenji turns around at this point. “What’s his name? What does he look like?”

“Redhead. Immaculately dressed; he’s always in a vest, collared buttondown, slacks, and a tie. Thin glasses, big vocabulary; sounds and looks like an aristocrat.” Gossamer says. “I’m sure he has other names, but he’s always introduced himself to me as Lord Syntaritov.”

“Goddammit.” Tenji sighs gustily, running her hand through her hair as she starts pacing again. “I think I know the one you’re talking about. Could be different, since the one that I saw was in a bathrobe, but the red hair and the aristocratic behavior matches, and he also identified himself as a Syntaritov, so I’m pretty sure it’s the same one.”

Now it’s Gossamer’s turn to give Tenji a look. “What have you been doing that’s put you in proximity to demon Lords?”

“It’s a long story. Short version is that we needed his help to get the Spark that Axiom has now.” Tenji says, rubbing her temples. “So you owe him a favor and you can’t turn him down?”

“That’s correct.”

“And he wants you to use your connections to get CURSE off of the Drifters’ backs? So they can… do whatever it is they’re trying to do? Rescue that half-wild vixen that the witchling is dicking down?”

“He wants us to stop trying to rein them in, and to provide whatever assistance the Drifters need in terms of revenue and resupply. We don’t have to send them any people or equipment, but he’s asked that we continue paying for the Drift’s operating costs, and paying the Preservers what is stipulated in their contract.”

Tenji rolls her bottom lip under her teeth, her deep crimson eyes darting around as if she was searching for hidden factors or making calculations. “…not as bad as I expected. It almost sounds reasonable. We basically just leave them alone, keep paying their salaries, and pretend like everything is business as usual.”

“Which is basically what we were doing before.” Gossamer points out.

“Don’t remind me. I think they’ve caught onto the fact that we’ve been trying to quietly dispose of them.” Tenji grumbles. “And there’s no way for you to negotiate something different with this demon Lord?”

“Not really. And I don’t think he’d be happy if I tried it — when he showed up to call in the favor, he made it clear that he could be demanding much more than what he was requesting.” Gossamer says, finally meeting Tenji’s gaze. “I hate to admit it, but he has a point — he’s not really asking us to do anything, kill anyone, or steal anything. He’s asking that we just sit tight and let the Drifters finish whatever they’re doing. All we have to do is sit back and make sure the money keeps flowing.” There’s a moment of silence, and then she adds, “Tenji, coming from a supernatural creature, that is really reasonable—”

“I know.” Tenji says. “That’s what bothers me. It’s one thing when someone orders you to do something; it’s another thing when someone orders you to stay out of it. I’d rather be in the loop, and know what’s going on, instead of being told to stay out of it.”

“That’s true.” Gossamer agrees. “But looking at it another way, this is one less problem we have to deal with. We just keep the Preservers paid, and they rescue the morphox and deal with the Tirsigal problem. That gives us the freedom to focus on other things, like the Valiant or the artifacts we’re trying to collect.”

Tenji gives Gossamer the side-eye. “And you’re not just saying that because it’s your ass on the line if you can’t deliver on the favor that you owe?”

Gossamer folds her arms. “Excuse me for not wanting to be beholden to a demon Lord.”

“While we’re on the topic, are there any more inconvenient debts I should know about?” Tenji says, reaching over to the holoarray to swipe away the video she’d had on pause, and pull over another screen, one that looks like it’s got work-related windows. “I appreciate everything you do, but having your dirty laundry come back to bite us in the ass… it makes my job harder, I’ll say that much.”

“No. I mean, I do have a few debts, but none that are as big as the one that I owe to the demon Lord. They’re all small matters I can settle on my own.” Gossamer says, reaching up to corral some of her long black hair back over her shoulder. “It’s just that this debt is one I can’t run from, since it’s magically binding. I have to pay it now that it’s come due; I don’t have a choice.”

“Fine. I’ll call off the dogs and tell Nazka and SCION to let the Drifters do what they want.” Tenji says, heading over to the kitchen to open her fridge, digging around for something to drink. “They’ll have questions, but I can tell them I’ve received intel that changes our approach to the Drifters. Hopefully, if they get the foxgirl back, they’ll settle down and be more compliant afterwards. Dealing with them is starting to become a headache.”

“I told you, back when we first drew up that contract with the Preserver Academy, that we were ceding too much control.” Gossamer points out. “The level of independence we have allowed them—”

“CURSE was still fledging at the time. We weren’t in the position to negotiate for more, and needed the legitimacy that a partnership with the Academy would bring.” Tenji retorts impatiently, swinging the fridge door shut with enough force to rattle some of the contents inside. “You know how things were, coming off the war with the Challengers. And if we try to renegotiate the contract now, the Academy will probably get cold feet and just sever it altogether. We can’t afford that in the middle of a PR war with the Valiant.”

“What are we going to do about them, then?”

“I dunno, Chi!” Tenji snaps as she comes back out of the kitchen, then leans back against the bar counter, folding her arms and pinching the bridge of her nose, screwing her eyes shut. “If I’d known back then that being Administrator was just going to be cleaning up other people’s messes for the rest of eternity, I wouldn’t have listened to you when you pushed me to apply for the position.”

Gossamer shrugs. “You wanted power. I pointed you in the direction you needed to go to get it, just like I always have.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t the fun kind of power.” Tenji says, pulling her hand away from her face and staring at her fingers, opening and closing them. “I wanted power, not authority.”

“Do I need to tell you the obvious?” Gossamer asks, folding her arms.

Tenji glares at her. “Authority is a trap. It’s power, yes, but it’s power that comes with strings attached. That’s not the kind of power I wanted, and you know it. I never wanted this — having to be in charge of people, having to answer for their actions and mistakes, having to tell them what to do.”

Gossamer raises an eyebrow. “You don’t enjoy having people obey your every command?”

Tenji doesn’t answer right way. Instead, she looks away, still opening and closing her hand. “If I could have that without always having to babysit them…”

“No such thing. Authority always answers to the people that it commands.”

“Yeah, thanks for warning me about that a decade after the fact.” Tenji mutters. “I hate being tied down by these responsibilities. I only ever wanted power so I could be free. So nobody could tell me what to do; so I only had to answer to myself. Go where I wanted, do what I wanted… live the life I wanted. Not the life other people wanted or expected me to lead.”

“I’d say you could retire and hand the reins over to Nazka, but I know you too well.” Gossamer says, lifting her hand and checking her fingernails. “You might bitch and moan about it, but you like the power and authority too much to give it up.”

Tenji snorts at that. “There’d be a riot if I put Nazka in charge. He’s good at administration, but he’s got as much charm as a roadkill special.” She clenches her hand again, staring at her whiteknuckled fist. “I miss being able to go on field missions. It really helped to burn off stress sometimes.”

“We’ve talked about this before. You can’t go on field missions; you need to find other outlets for your stress.” Gossamer says, idly nibbling on one of her nails.

“I know. I know.” Tenji mutters, unfolding her arms and rubbing her temples.

Gossamer side-eyes her. “You need sacraments, don’t you. Would explain why you’re so bitchy tonight.”

“Why, you offering?” Tenji snaps, sending another glare in Gossamer’s direction.

Gossamer takes her nail out of her mouth, pushing off the counter and crossing the few feet between her and Tenji. I suddenly realize where this is going, and glance towards the door beside me, but it’ll be impossible for me to open it without both of them noticing. Please, for the love of Sylak, take it back to the bedroom—

“Maybe.” Gossamer says softly, leaning down slightly as she hooks one of her fingers in the corner of Tenji’s mouth, pulling it back enough to expose Tenji’s pronounced canines. “Has the student been craving her teacher recently? And here I thought you’d gotten tired of me.”

“Really. I thought it was the other way around.” Tenji scoffs. “Did you run out of impressionable new recruits to con into your bed? I could do another hiring wave, if you’ve burned all your bridges with the latest wave of recruits.”

“As if I could ever tire of you, Ten.” Gossamer purrs, gliding her finger along Tenji’s bottom lip. “You haven’t aged a day since you were my student. All that delicious youth, preserved by a vampire’s baptism. Lucky bitch that you are.”

Tenji snorts. “Still just a pretty little thing to you, am I? Just another pretty thing to do.”

Gossamer smirks. “Can you honestly say you’re any different from me?”

Tenji’s eyes flick down, presumably taking in the view down the open v-neck of Gossamer’s shirt. “If I am, I learned it from you.” Her dark red eyes flick back up. “I’m topping tonight.”

“Ha? Is that so?” Gossamer laughs, her amusement evaporating as she leans down enough to get right in Tenji’s face. “I’d like to see you try, little vampire.”

Tenji pushes off the counter with sudden alacrity, grabbing Gossamer and swinging around to try and pin her against the wall; Gossamer sees it coming and plants a foot against the wall, kicking off of it and throwing both of them against the back of the couch, rolling over it. The momentum bounces them over the cushions and straight onto the floor with a thud; from where I’m tucked into the corner of the entry hall, they’re mostly out of view behind the coffee table, but I can still hear thumping and grunting as they wrestle with each other for the upper hand.

Slowly crouching down, I press my knuckles against my forehead as I try to block out the sounds of an aggressively sexual struggle. This was not what I been looking for when I decided to tail Gossamer. All I wanted to do was snoop around and get some intel; now I was trapped in here while these two fought over who got to top who tonight. If I’d known this was how things were going to go, I would’ve never tailed Gossamer — no amount of intel is worth having to sit through this. My only hope is that they’ll figure out who’s topping and then take it back to the bedroom, and I can sneak out at that point—

There’s a thud that has me lifting my head to see the coffee table’s been knocked out of position; it looks like Gossamer’s got Tenji pinned down, though she’s still struggling. “W-wait! Hold up, let me turn on the sound damping; we’re making too much noise—”

“Oh, you’re gonna be making some noise tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Shut up! System, turn on sound suppression—”

“Don’t want anybody to hear you shouting my name?”

“I am going to kill you—”

“While you’re pinned to the floor like this? Don’t make me laugh. Now, let me see if I remember where you like being bitten…”

Sweet Sylak save me, they’re gonna do it right here in the living room. Goddammit—

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

CURSE HQ: Axiom’s Quarters

2/9/12765 2:23am SGT

I’d ignored the doorbell when someone started spamming it a few minutes ago, but the sound of someone kicking open one of my vent covers drags me back out of the sleep I’d been trying to salvage. Letting out a long sigh, I rub my eyes, then begin to feel around on my bedside for my touch lamp.

“Whisper, that better be you, because if it’s anyone else, you’re one bad answer away from getting the business end of a stunner.” I grumble, soft light filling the room as my fingers brush the base of my touch lamp. I start reaching for drawer built into the side of my bed that has my stunner pistol, but a dark silhouette takes shape in the bathroom, resolving into Whisper as she steps into my room proper. Upon seeing that it’s her, I let my arm go slack, dropping my head back onto my pillow as I close my eyes again. “Would it kill you to do these visits closer to normal waking hours?”

I feel the mattress sink slightly as she clambers on to the bed, and then a moment later, when I feel her grabbing fistfuls of my nightshirt, I open her eyes to find her pulling me up, her icy blue eyes drilling into me. She looks frazzled and just slightly unhinged. “I have seen things I cannot unsee, Dare. Tonight, I have heard things that are going to live, rent-free, in my head for the rest of eternity.”

I stare at her blearily. “Uh. Did something happen?”

She lets go of me, letting me drop back to the bed, then twists to the side and falls back on the bed next to me, staring up at the ceiling. “Gossamer was being shady. So I decided to follow her and see what she was up to. She went all the way to Tenji’s suite, and I snuck in to eavesdrop on them.”

That wakes me up a bit more. “Wait, you snuck into Tenji’s residential suite to spy on her? C’mon, Whisper — that’s taking it a little too far. You know what would’ve happened if you’d gotten caught?”

“I almost wish that I did.” she grunts, still staring up at the ceiling with her arms sprawled out on either side, one of them flopped over me. “Gossamer’s in debt to a demon Lord that called it in and asked her to use her connections to get CURSE to back off of the Preservers that CURSE is contracted with.”

I open my mouth, then close it, needing a moment to process that. “What does… but why… do I even want to know?” I say, still very much confused.

“Probably not.” Whisper says. “Anyways, Tenji agreed. And then they started talking about how much Tenji hates her job, and how she only took the job because she wanted power, but this wasn’t the type of power she was looking for.”

I squint my eyes a little. “You’re not making this up, are you?”

“Dare, do you think I’d wake you up at two in the morning to tell you lies?” Whisper says, then goes on before I can answer. “After that, Tenji started complaining about being stressed out and not being able to go on field missions anymore. And then Gossamer offered to help her ‘de-stress’. That got them to start taking shots at each other’s romantic histories, and then they started arguing about who would get to top. And then they actually started fighting over who would get to top—”

“Wait.” I say, suddenly realizing where this is going, and glancing at Whisper. “Are you telling me…”

“Yup.” Whisper nods.

“Really?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you were in the room while they—”

“Like I said. I’ve seen things that I can’t unsee, and I’ve heard things that I’m never going to be able to unhear.”

“Couldn’t you have snuck out—”

“They would’ve noticed me opening the door!”

“Why were you in the bedroom with them? Couldn’t you listen around the corner?”

“They WEREN’T IN THE BEDROOM! They didn’t even make it to the bedroom!”

“Wait, you mean—”

“Yes! In the living room! On the floor, on the coffee table, and then on the couch!”

“Goddamn. And each of those…?”

“Was a separate instance, yes.”

“That is… a lot of stamina.”

“I know, right? I thought they would never stop! They just kept going, and going, and… god, it’s making me hot and bothered, which is deeply disturbing.” Whisper sits up, running her hands through her hair. “I was stuck in there for two hours, Dare. Two hours! Thirty minutes of intel, and then ninety minutes of two tops fighting each other, tooth and nail, over who gets to be in charge! I am scarred.”

“Kent would’ve been happy to trade places with you.”

“I would’ve let him have it!” Whisper exclaims. “Do you know what it’s like to be stuck in a room while two people you hate have some of the roughest, most passionate, adversarial sex you’ve ever seen?”

I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help myself. “Sounds like you envy them.” I remark with a little smirk.

Whisper’s head instantly snaps towards me, giving me a dangerous glare. “Don’t you dare.” she growls.

I shrug, lacing my hands behind my head. “Just sayin’, I figured you would’ve seen worse on Avvikerene.”

“On Avvikerene, people have an excuse. This…” Whisper shudders, shaking her head. “This made me want to retch, but also made me feel horny, which is the worst combination in the world. I just… ugh. Covert ops will traumatize you in all of the most unexpected ways.”

“So did we learn our lesson about spying on our coworkers?”

“Shut up.”

“And how did you end up escaping? You’re here now, so obviously you found a way to get out without tipping them off.”

“They eventually took it back to the bedroom. As soon as I heard the bedroom door close, I opened the front door, slipped out, and came here as quickly as I could.” Whisper says, dragging her hands down her face. “I had to tell someone. I couldn’t just sit on this cursed knowledge alone; it would’ve driven me insane. I couldn’t tell Kwyn, because I don’t want to sabotage her faith in the organization, and I wasn’t gonna confide in Kent, horndog that he is. All the other Peacekeepers would’ve thrown a fit if they found out I was spying on the Administrator, so you were the only person I could tell about it.”

“So you’re basically making me an accomplice to your crime.”

“It’s not a crime if no one in charge finds out about it.”

“That is… definitely not how that works.”

“Just remember that if I go down, I’m taking you with me.” she says, rolling onto her knees. “Thanks for taking the time to listen to me. I didn’t want to do this to you in the middle of the night, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep until I got it off my chest.”

She starts to climb off my bed, and in that moment I think back on the book I’ve been reading, at Kwyn’s behest; about the last late-night talk I had with Whisper, about whether I could ever see her differently. “Hey Whisper?”

She stops at the edge of my bed, looking at me. “Yeah?”

“It’s pretty late.” I say, hoping the proposition won’t come out either awkward or creepy. “If you want to, you can sleep here tonight.”

Whisper stares at me, then at the unoccupied half of the bed. “Oh. In my cat form?”

I hesitate, then: “No, you can stay in your human form if you want.”

There’s a moment of silence. I can tell she’s sifting through the implications in her head, reading into it, trying to parse out meaning and subtext from the offer. I don’t know what conclusion she reaches, but it’s one where she accepts, turning back around and climbing over to the side of the bed she’d been lying on earlier. “Yeah. I think I will. Thanks, Dare.”

Shedding her jacket, she slips under the covers, quickly getting comfortable. There’s plenty of space between us, and I’m okay with that — small steps feels like the right way to start. “Just a heads up, my alarm goes off at eight a.m. It’s not super early, but that’s about the time that I start waking up in the morning.”

“That’s fine. Eight a.m. is pretty reasonable.” she says as she finishes settling. “Sleep well, Dare. And thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“Hey, what are friends for.”

That gets a small smile out of her, if only because we both know that this goes a bit further than just friends helping each other out.