#but no promises abt consistiency

[faulty-heat-vents]

//Narrative communication established.

No communication for a week. Before then, another hiatus. Radio silence. 

Being disconnected from his socialport made Ashton… uncomfortable. He had only been running the damn thing for a few Cradle months. How did a severance feel this strange and lonely?

Maybe it wasn’t the disconnect. Maybe it was the silence that came with it- no drama, no distracting stimuli, just himself and the monotony of the Academy. Training drills and mechanical courses, over and over.

A break comes when Command pages him, an unpleasant break as it was. He had broken protocol again, a risky maneuver in a simulation that cost his virtual teammates a respawn token- analogous to death in the real world.

The short walk to Command’s elevated office is one of shame. The barebones box sits suspended in the rafters of the mechanics’ wing, overlooking the vast garage and hangar spaces through a wall of glass. 

All Ash could see from below was the Commander’s silhouette. With every step up the metal stairs, he feels their eyes watching him through the window, tracing his gait and judging his every movement. 

“Come in,” the Commander drones as Ash reaches the door. He hadn’t even knocked yet, and they already started the conversation. Ash swallows the nervous lump in his throat and sweeps his wrist across the keycard reader, unlocking it with a quiet beep. 

“Sit,” the Commander orders, not turning away from their post at the window. Ash follows the instruction and waits for another, holding his breath as much as he can. The Commander was known to be irritable, and he was in enough hot water as is.

Even without them turning, Ashton feels the weight of the Commander’s eyes fall on him. 

“I have been made aware of your recent escapades, Cadet G-212.”

Pulling out class rank and designation? Oh fuck.

”This meeting is not about your simulation failures. Those can be programmed out.” 

They finally turn to Ash, all three eyes dead-locked. “You will answer for obfuscating your communications. Cadets under the Academy’s purview are to be monitored at all times. Your journals about our operation are not to be seen by the wider Omninet. If things were to go in my favour, there would be no journaling at all- but your memory issues present a unique exception.”

Journals? They had managed to break the encryption to my blog? How?

The Commander narrows their primary eyes at him and scowls. 

“Your encryption relied on your observer being under Academy credentials. Your failure was simple- all we had to do was log out of the Academy account, and it was viewable. Amateur mistake.”

Oh.

”Your communications with outside organizations and nefarious third parties have resulted in several Academy security breaches. Approximately nineteen Cradle days ago, Biohazard and Forensics confiscated an unregistered package found near your workshop space. You weren’t present during its calculated delivery window, but all other sources turned up null- nothing on cameras, sensors, or forensic left-behinds. Your infiltrator was thorough in their attempt.”

Ashton can’t even get in a word edgewise- not that it’d get him anywhere if he could. All he can do is think of his responses and let the Commander read them. 

Biohaz grabbed it? Doesn’t Cargo handle packages?The words aren’t even mentally refined before the Commander responds with a negative-nod.

“Cargo handles normal shipping deliveries. This package was sent to Biohazard and Forensics because of its contents. From what we could gather from your Omninet socialport, this package was left by an adversary from one of your previous engagements- ‘Hive Guy,’ I believe you call them.”

Ash’s face works faster than his tongue, clear to view without his helmet and death-cage armor. Hatred.

“The package was an effigy made of your remains, G-212. It appears that the enemy had returned to the scene and gathered scraps of your body once your mech and NHP co-pilot were exfiltrated. Then, they crafted some kind of mockery token with the salvage and delivered it in person. I’m still speaking to Security about the breach, but evidence is scarce. There’s not even any fingerprints on the box.”

Wait, 19 days ago? Why wasn’t I told sooner?

The Commander sighs in annoyance and places a hand on their temple. “Because you would’ve spoken about it before we handled the situation. We conducted a full sweep of the station in silence to make sure your infiltrator wasn’t still onboard. I was only just now informed that we’re in the clear. I’ve increased security measures all across the base- and if that ‘Hive Guy’ shows up again, we’ll know from the sentry turret gunshots.”

…so that’s it? That bastard broke in, left a hunting trophy, and fucked off?

“Sans vulgarity, yes. This is the second time hostile actors have infiltrated the Academy. First A-1, and now this.” 

A pause. The Commander lifts their visor and removes a diadem from beneath it. The third eye on their forehead squints shut.

“Full transparency time. No more Commander, just Oracle- a concerned party. Talk if you want.”

Ashton waits for Oracle to blink, then shakes his head. Not much to say. They sigh, crouch down, and continue.

“I’ve read your reports on the anomalous visions you’re experiencing lately. I know you didn’t write them for my eyes, but we both know how that worked out.”

Silence follows again, broken by Ash’s shaky voice- “Leave Ciryn out of it.” 

Oracle turns their head inquisitively. “Why would I? You didn’t.”

“She didn’t do anything.” 

“You’re right. She’ll simply have the samples confiscated. You’re the only one to blame for her involvement.”

Ashton nods, but stays quiet. 

Oracle places a hand on his shoulder and leans to look him in the eyes. Their voice is gentle when they speak again.

“Ashton, what were you thinking? Why would you go behind my back like this? Your dreams are a new development… but lying to me?” 

Ash looks away, trying to hide his tear-welling face. Oracle presses onwards. “You know how I operate- hiding your troubles just makes them worse. I don’t like seeing my pilots like this. Just talk to me. You’re clearly hurting if you trusted my best medic with this.”

Ashton swings his head back to face Oracle and breaks. 

“I’m sorry!” he sobs, grabbing at his forearms. “I needed to get shit done. I never get answers from any of you! Not Commander Oracle, not the Admins, and RA forbid the bastards who dropped me off here! Nobody tells me anything!”

Oracle bows their head. 

“Ashton, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I can’t fix what’s going on in your nightmares. I can’t bring you up to parity with the rest of my pilots. I most certainly can’t tell you what SSC wanted with your assignment here. All I ca-”

“‘Assignment’?”

The sniffling stops abruptly. Oracle raises their head, and sees Ashton staring at them- dead-locked, just like they had done to him minutes prior. “What do you mean by ‘assignment,’ Ori? You said that they disposed of me for a special hire program.” “I- Yes, that was the dea-” Oracle leans back, taking their hand with them- until Ash’s own shoots up and grabs it by the wrist. His tail thrashes violently behind him.

“Oracle, you know what happened to me. The real me. The one in my head. Tell me.”

Oracle tries and fails to wrench their hand out of Ash’s unnaturally strong grip, only tweaking their wrist in the process. Ash’s voice is still broken with tears, but whatever this is- anger, desperation, something else- punches through it like a bullet through glass.

“I’m scared, Ori. I’ve been tormented for months now. Months. Do you understand? Night after night, cryo-cycle after cryo-cycle, I see it. That damned eye in the sun and the words I don’t understand and the snaking mass of guts that want to swallow me whole.”

“Ashton, unhand me at once! I don’t know how to fix you-” “Bullshit!” The word comes out as a half-sob, half-snarl, both parts overlapping. “You and the rest of Admin are keeping shit from me! I deserve to know what the hell that graveyard was about! What that breached cockpit painted in blood was! If I’m to be subjected to horrific nightmares and visions and- and- and hell itself, I deserve to know!”

As soon as the episode started, it stops. Ashton’s hand goes limp, like a breaker shorted out in his head. His breathing cuts to sharp pants. His body fights the haze any way it knows how. 

“I deserve to know,” he finally manages, devolving back into the hysterical tears his mania broke out of.

Oracle looks down at their already-bruising wrist, then back up to Ash. His tail and ears have receded back to normal, but he’s still a wreck.

“You’re right,” they start cautiously, “but I legally cannot help you. SSC set very specific terms and conditions for your surrender, and if I break them, it’ll put this entire Academy in jeopardy. Even telling you this is dangerously close.”

“So what do we do?” Ash asks in a whisper. “Do I just keep suffering like this? Asking randos on the net for help? Dealing with Hive whenever he decides to rear his ugly head?”

“I don’t know, Ashton. This is a problem I don’t have the answers for. I’d try to dissuade you from seeking the Omninet’s advice, but I know how you work. You’re one of the smartest pilots I have, and any blockade I place in your way will just steer you towards more dangerous avenues.” 

Minutes bleed into an hour. Over it, Ash slowly reels himself back in, apologizing profusely for losing his temper at his Commander. Oracle brushes the injury aside, citing their own mistakes. “Everything has a reason, Ashton. We might not understand it, we might not like it, but we can’t stop it until we understand.”

They stand up and offer their injured hand to Ash for assistance. He takes it and brings himself wearily to his feet, fighting out a smile in a vain attempt to end the conversation on a positive note.

“Thank you for bringing your concerns to me, Ashton.” Oracle says, placing their diadem back on their head. Their third eye flicks open and turns to look at Ash as he departs. “Please do so again if it gets worse.”

“Anytime, [Oracle|Commander]-” 

The dual-edged voice. Not here. Not now. Not wi-

The floor meets his face in a blink.