Quechkhonia, Harndon
"That's all of them," Loni said, staring into a blank patch of wall, the device in her hand lying forgotten on the top of her lap.
"Every single last one?" Feythr lowered the mug from her lips.
"More or less, yeah."
Feythr didn't know why her heart sank at that, least of all explain why she couldn't explain. She drained her cup.
"It's not really a thing to celebrate, is it?"
"No."
"Tea?" Loni was the one to finally break the silence.
"Fuck yes."
"Right," she grunted as she rose from her seat. She ambled over with all the grace of a cat just woken from its sleep. Her outstretched fingers plucked the beaker out of Feythr's grip. "Be right back."
Feythr could only nod at Loni's back, seconds after the operative had turned and walked away.
The wood made the faintest of taps against the ledge. Steam rose from the liquid held inside.
"Thanks," Feythr made herself say.
Loni sat down next to her, her cup a hand's breadth away from Feythr's.
"To fallen comrades." Loni had her mug in her hand, raised towards Feythr. The shine of her eyes belied the impassive face that held them.
"To fallen comrades," Feythr whispered, mirroring her friend's stance.
Ksandra, Thobarv, Nyquenoz. The Aspects knew how many more.
The two hollowed pieces of wood came together. And held, each owner staring at their respective cup, feeling the surge of memories and emotion.
Dafkane, Ginak, who was given the discharge he begged for. Ginak, who went after Dafkane.
The day before, news had come that he had caught up with him. Apparently the two died back to back, gunned down by the security forces that had them pinned.
Their two cups parted.
They drank.
On the other side of the world, the last survivors of the mission would be gathering. Soon - if it hadn't already happened - the final chapter of their vengeance would be written.
"That's all of them," Loni said, staring into a blank patch of wall, the device in her hand lying forgotten on the top of her lap.
"Every single last one?" Feythr lowered the mug from her lips.
"More or less, yeah."
Feythr didn't know why her heart sank at that, least of all explain why she couldn't explain. She drained her cup.
"It's not really a thing to celebrate, is it?"
"No."
"Tea?" Loni was the one to finally break the silence.
"Fuck yes."
"Right," she grunted as she rose from her seat. She ambled over with all the grace of a cat just woken from its sleep. Her outstretched fingers plucked the beaker out of Feythr's grip. "Be right back."
Feythr could only nod at Loni's back, seconds after the operative had turned and walked away.
The wood made the faintest of taps against the ledge. Steam rose from the liquid held inside.
"Thanks," Feythr made herself say.
Loni sat down next to her, her cup a hand's breadth away from Feythr's.
"To fallen comrades." Loni had her mug in her hand, raised towards Feythr. The shine of her eyes belied the impassive face that held them.
"To fallen comrades," Feythr whispered, mirroring her friend's stance.
Ksandra, Thobarv, Nyquenoz. The Aspects knew how many more.
The two hollowed pieces of wood came together. And held, each owner staring at their respective cup, feeling the surge of memories and emotion.
Dafkane, Ginak, who was given the discharge he begged for. Ginak, who went after Dafkane.
The day before, news had come that he had caught up with him. Apparently the two died back to back, gunned down by the security forces that had them pinned.
Their two cups parted.
They drank.
On the other side of the world, the last survivors of the mission would be gathering. Soon - if it hadn't already happened - the final chapter of their vengeance would be written.
Harndon
Some wanker with too much time and too little energy.
