Monday August 1, 454 MC
2251 GMT
Core 47
REQUIEM SPLIT his time between his own experiments, alterations to the Ares, and helping 108 adapt. 108 was still very skittish around Juni and other Fighters, as was understandable. To help with this, Requiem had 108 assist him in finding out what exactly had happened to Cores who were in the ships hit with the Impulse Barrier. Silently, they went through possibilities and hypotheses based on 108’s experiences when the wave hit. They sat on the edge of Requiem’s pod, each with a jack plugged into the inputs at the base of their skulls, and communicated through the system.
While they did this, Damion and Juni would talk and trade stories and experiences themselves.
Juni leaned back with Damion on the bed, watching a vid. “You think they even know we’re in the room?”
“Probably… I don’t know. All this time, and I still couldn’t tell you entirely what they do when they sit there like that for hours.” Damion shrugged and sipped his beer, looking at the two Cores only for a moment before concentrating back on the screen. “Maybe it’s selective hearing.”
“I finished up my simulations this week. Thank the Gods.” Juni sighed. “I was killed twice.”
“They make it hard so you learn.” Damion frowned as a sudden thought crossed his mind. “Twice? That just doesn’t make sense here. You should be doing better than ever. Maybe you need to learn to rely on your Core more.”
Requiem’s ears perked up a little more at hearing Damion mention the word Core. It was one word that could get his attention while he was in the stream with 108. He found it beneficial to learn what Fighter Juni thought of his Core, specifically so he could help 108 improve upon those points. He supposed he had become a bit of a mentor to the shy and withdrawn 108, but Requiem also discouraged 108 from relying on him too much for answers.
“He’s great… but, um….”
“But what?” Damion prompted Juni.
“I don’t know if he likes being my Core.” Juni frowned and swirled his beer around the bottle.
Requiem mentally nudged 108 through the system, pushing his mind back into the forefront and warning him to stay silent and still, as if they were still engrossed in the system.
Damion laughed. “I’m not sure if they have likes and dislikes much.”
“He just… I don’t know.” Juni shrugged, and it was obvious that he was having trouble finding the words he needed to explain further.
“They don’t show much emotion,” Damion said with a smile and a small shake of his head. “Don’t expect any offers to share a beer or hang out with you in the exercise area.”
“When we fly, he just seems to be holding back.” Juni’s thin lips turned into a deeper frown. “I’m not blaming him for anything, but it’s like he’s not using all his skills. Like he doesn’t trust me.”
Requiem’s eyes flicked to 108’s steel gray ones, sending a question through the system. 108’s gaze slowly lowered to the ground followed by a nearly imperceptible nod. Requiem’s lips twitched in a momentary frown. Another question. Why? The answer came back hesitantly but truthfully.
Of course, there was no way to lie through the system.
Requiem asked 108 to delve back into the system and practice the exercises that he had asked him to do. 108 immediately complied and soon was out of hearing—he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of being both in the system and listening outside his body at the same time.
“108 is holding back. He deduces that if he refrains from displaying his full potential then you will not punish him when he fails, as you would be unaware of his complete set of abilities,” Requiem finally explained.
“Why would I punish him? Oh….” Juni knew the answer to his question immediately after expressing it, but it seemed to upset him more. “Look. I’m not Arkin.”
“He’s not saying that, or I don’t think he is.” Damion finished his beer and tossed the bottle into the trash chute. “108’s just playing it safe. Give him time. He’s not going to let you die.”
“Fighter Arkin was not 108’s first Fighter. There was one before him who treated 108 with even more malice than Fighter Arkin. The Fighter had an obsession with testing how much pain 108 could tolerate before tears were produced. He ended up in the Medical Bay every three months for the first year of their partnership. The Creators were interested in the fact 108 could still produce the reaction. 108 was able to halt the reaction after the third trip to Medical. 108 was this Fighter’s Core for three years before the Fighter was terminated in a confrontation over gambling debts during leave on one of the entertainment colonies. With both Fighters, 108 nearly terminated himself several times,” Requiem explained, tilting his head slightly. “I have done what is within my capabilities to strengthen his… trust of you. While he can neither like nor dislike you, he is learning that he is safer being bonded with you than his two previous bondings.”
Juni groaned and pressed his left palm into his left eye. “It’s like having a girlfriend.”
“Worse.” Damion chuckled as he gave Requiem an approving smile. “They don’t even comprehend what they do to us.”
Requiem tilted his head, his chin-length bangs covering one eye. “I do not understand what you mean. Please clarify.”
“I don’t think I could.” Damion laughed and Juni did as well. “Maybe one day when you know more about relationships.”
“Ah, your little girl is growing up.” Juni sniffed and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.
“He’s definitely becoming mouthier.”
“Those rebellious teenager years.”
Damion grunted. “All those years remind me of is girlfriends and how there are no women on this entire ship who will come near me right now.”
Damion and Juni began a conversation about the female sex for a few more minutes, or really the lack of “available” women or those who didn’t seem to be carrying some sort of space venereal disease.
Requiem clenched his teeth against asking another question and turned away from the Fighters by putting his feet in the pod, his back to them. It was fine if they chose to mock him. It was their right and a particular habit that all Fighters seemed to have. Even his own, whom he had thought was above that type of pettiness. He did not understand them, and they did not understand him. It was the way it was and the way it was supposed to be. If Fighter Damion thought Requiem was being… mouthy, then he would only speak when spoken to.
Ever since Damion had taken over retrieving his food from the mess hall, most of his mandatory provisions had ended up down the trash chute and Damion had somehow gotten a reputation for having a massive appetite. Requiem had tried to protest, but Damion had quickly told him to eat his food and keep quiet. He did so while still ingesting a small amount of his rations per day so that he did not go into withdrawal, and he understood this brought more emotions to the surface.
Juni stood up and walked over to the two Cores, placing a hand on 108’s shoulder and shaking him gently. “You awake?”
108’s eyes snapped open, immediately going to Juni’s face, and the trace of panic could be seen clearly. Requiem silently soothed him through the system, letting him know that Juni wasn’t a threat, and that he wasn’t going to hurt him. 108’s eyes went back to their normal blankness, and he nodded to Juni.
After reaching over, Requiem placed a gentle hand right underneath the skull port and then grasped the cable with the other to twist and pull the jack, releasing the cable.
As 108 stood, Requiem unplugged his jack, letting both cords retract back into the capsule.
Damion waited until Juni and 108 left before speaking to his own Core. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything is acceptable,” Requiem replied, flipping open the programming panel to reset the capsule for one instead of two.
“You have that scowl that you use when you think something is not acceptable.” Damion tugged at the back of Requiem’s hair gently.
Requiem blinked at the pull, but he had gotten used to Damion’s random touches. “I did not know my face betrayed anything. I will work on improving on that problem.”
“You don’t have to.” Damion sighed. “It’s more comfortable for me to know that I can understand you just a little bit.”
There seemed to be no real way to respond to that, so Requiem went back to changing the settings again. He wondered that if Damion could read some emotion on his face, who else could too? But perhaps Damion’s ability was only due to the fact that they were together constantly.
“You didn’t answer the question.” Damion crossed his arms over his chest in apparent exasperation. “Or do you just not want to talk about it?”
“I answered that everything is acceptable. I am trying to avoid being ‘mouthy’ since you appear to disagree with it.”
Requiem rubbed at the input port at the base of his skull, trying to massage feeling back into it and also stretch the tight muscles without looking like he was doing so.
Damion let out another sigh. “I don’t mind that you’re… mouthy. I didn’t mean it as an insult. You seem comfortable enough around me to voice what you want. I enjoy it.”
Requiem was silent for a moment, his attention fixed on Damion’s face. “Your personality type gave favorable feedback on my being able to speak with more liberty than if I were paired with a different Fighter. That is why I have given detailed information to you that no other Fighter would be privileged to. I apologize if my apparent reaction displeased you. As a Core I am used to being the object of less than favorable conversation but have gotten out of the habit of acting accordingly.”
He finally stood, discreetly stretching his stiff shoulders.
Damion snorted. “You have an odd way of making me feel lucky and a bit sad for you at the same time.”
“Lucky? Sad?” Requiem tilted his head. “I do not understand.”
Damion gently gripped Requiem’s shoulders and began to rub them, having probably noticed the subtle stretching despite Requiem’s attempts to hide them. “I know.”
Requiem tensed at first but then began to relax as relief flowed out from his stiff shoulders and down to his sore back. His eyes slowly drifted closed, and he let out a barely audible sigh of relief. “Explain it to me, please?” he inquired hesitantly, quietly.
Requiem was uncertain why his Fighter was silent. He opened his eyes and glanced over at Damion. The Fighter’s mouth was twisted. Requiem had noticed this was a movement that showed Damion was collecting his thoughts before speaking.
“I didn’t have such a bad upbringing, so your experiences evoke sadness. I still feel honored you chose me to be your Fighter.”
“So you no longer believe that I will terminate you?” Requiem looked through his bangs at Damion. “Do not concern yourself with my past or the pasts of other Cores. That is why it is the past and nothing can change it. I thank you, though.”
“There, see. That is more normal for you to sound like.” Damion grinned. “You’re helping 108 out? You seemed a bit tense.”
The massaging of Requiem’s muscles felt… pleasant and helped him relax. “I am trying to help him bond more closely with Fighter Juni. Trying to make him understand that Juni will not harm him. Unfortunately, some things are hard to reteach. As for being tense, even though we are medically and electronically enhanced, we still have some of the same limitations as normal humans.”
“You push yourself too hard and too often.” Damion frowned down at him in disapproval. “I wish you wouldn’t take so many chances.”
“That is another thing Cores are for. To take the chances that Fighters should not.” Requiem was reluctant to give up Damion’s hands but wanted to continue on his projects for the Ares.
“I don’t want you to take chances. There. That clarify?” Damion shook his head.
Inwardly sighing, Requiem looked toward the ground, stepping away and out of reach of Damion’s hands.
“What are you doing now?” Damion asked, watching him.
“If you have no need for me, I was going to go work on the Ares.”
“You could just sleep.” Damion let his arms fall to his side since Requiem was now out of reach. “It’s late.”
“We have a sim in two days. I want to be ready to test the energy draw for the Impulse Barrier by then. I am also designing a new defense mechanism, and I would like to see how it will fit into the system by initiating some tests,” Requiem stated, his head still bowed. “Of course if you do not wish me to go, I will obey your orders.”
“I hate that Impulse Barrier,” Damion growled as he sat at the small table. Even if their lives had been saved by it, Damion had voiced multiple times that he didn’t like his Core using himself as a battery. “Just… don’t take long.”
“I am attempting to remove myself as an energy draw option. For that, I need to increase the actual draw port power so that it will not revert to me when it runs out.” Requiem looked up and tilted his head slightly to the side. “What is an acceptable time frame?”
Damion had learned better than to deter Requiem when he was set on a goal. “Thirty minutes?”
Damion sat back and continued to watch the vid he and Juni had been watching. Requiem knew he wouldn’t follow him, which was a good thing because Damion would be bored to tears and would slow him down.
For a few seconds, Requiem merely looked at him, but then finally turned and walked toward the door. “As you wish,” he said. The door slid open, allowing him to leave the room. He didn’t know what Damion expected him to get done within those time parameters, but he had to listen. He may have time to start a diagnostics check.
Once outside, Requiem started toward the flight bays, walking quickly. The faster he arrived there, the more time he had to work. He thought of, assessed, and disregarded or accepted many trains of thought—including, briefly, his Fighter’s strong hands. He could only hope that Damion would give him another massage in the future and maybe trust Requiem enough to return the favor. It would honestly improve Damion’s fighting if his muscles were loose and easy to move.
Requiem’s mind was on the tests he wanted to run and the modifications he wanted to make, and he was not paying attention to his surroundings.
He was nearly to the flight bay when he heard a noise behind him. Stopping, he turned, his gaze flicking back and forth through the empty corridor. Damion had been correct: it was fairly late and most people would be sleeping right now. But something didn’t feel right. He started slowly backing up toward a door console, his hand edging upward as he continued to search the hall, listening intently. The tips of his fingers were about to drift away from the console when someone grabbed him by the wrist. Requiem immediately dropped to the floor, hoping his weight would force his captor to release him, but the grip only tightened, grinding the bones of his wrist together as he was dragged into a dark, open doorway.
Twisting about, Requiem saw his attacker’s face.
Arkin.