Pad always had a way with words. Among other things.

“Just be good, Keph.”

Try to get my good side at least.

Once back to Remiel's house, Kephales steps aside while the rest clean up or head to the kitchen for dinner.

He dials into his pad and puts a small pod to his near invisible earhole.

The phone rings at the precinct in a suburb on Akiton, Keph's old workplace. It rings longer than usual, things are in disarray, but he expected that.

Finally a voice picks up.

"Olanti?"

"Stolle, yeah, is the chief there?"

"Well sure, but... man we're kinda swamped down here. No chance you can spare a moment, huh? Nah, I expect you've got big bad Steward stuff to do." A sense of relief and familiarity seemed to wash over the officers tone.

"Stolle, theres nothing I'd rather do than be there to help Akiton, you know that," the detective lied, "But... I'm actually calling to ask for *your* help."

"Mine??"

"No, the precinct. Can I talk to the chief?"

Stolle, a medium sized ysoki with a beat in the southern part of their suburb where the border abutted the the norther part of the city proper, was a good cop, honest, one of the few, but not the brightest bulb. It worked in his favor most of the time, because he wasnt the type to scheme for bigger busts or sneak away with confiscated goods or play the politicking game with local lawmakers. He was just a Good Guy.

"Sure, Olanti, just gimme a sec."

Keph could hear the noise on the other end. They had to be stretched thin filling in for branches that got hit. But it didnt take long. Soon enough, the tired raspy voice of the chief who clearly hadnt slept in a week greeted him. Ruk had not slept in a week, and if she was being honest, she didn't intend to sleep for another two at least. Undead armies prowled the cities of Akiton, an invading force that seemed both willing and able to pour as many bodies at a problem as necessary to solve it with no mind to how many were lost. Mostly, the precinct had been working at keeping civilians safe and providing what little protection they could. Half the force hadn't shown up to work since the attack, and she didn't know if it was because they were dead, trapped, or simply felt they had more important things to do than attempt to keep peace in the middle of a war.

Still, it was not every day Keph called in, and considering what he'd given-- and lost-- on her watch, well, she wasn't going to not take the call.

"Keph?" She winced at how hoarse her voice sounded; she'd always been gruff, but the complete lack of sleep combined with the smoke weren't doing her any favors.

"Chief, I know this isn't a good time, but I got a big favor to ask you.." he knew it was a bad time, and he knew it wasnt fair; that's the part that bothered him the most. What rivaled that in guikt was the knowledge that there was a selfish aspect to his impending request, and that is to alleviate potential inefficiencies in Fisk's work by removing the distraction of his missing brother. It was mutually beneficial to everyone except the officers at the precinct...and well...anyone who doesnt receive help because bodies have been diverted to a personal request.

Still, what was the point of working for clout and reputation if you never called it in? All of these moral and ethical quandaries circled through Keph's mind in the few beating seconds that passed after his last words.

He leaned against a wall as much as one could when their head protruded so much further than their back.

"A colleague of mine in the field... his brother's not checked in since Akiton went dark. I know what that means, I'm pretty sure he does too, so I'm not calling asking for miracles... but if you could dedicate a few guys to finding him... either way it turns up... it might help his focus. The guy is named Fisk, his missing brother is Twib. The rest of his family is accounted for, I'm sure they can provide you with photos and such...."

He felt worse and worse, but knew he had to try.

"Can you... do that for me?"

The sigh that came over the line was the definition of weary. Ruk knew she didn't have the time or manpower to devote to such a request, but at the same time, she wasn't going to refuse Keph and it was likely he knew that.

"Last known location? Part of a warren? Names of family members I could contact who remain on Akiton? Any other pertinent information?" The ysoki sounded as exhausted as she felt, and the idea of diverting two men to try and find a missing boy in the midst of everything else that was happening certainly didn't help matters. How much more paperwork was going to be needed to get this overlooked by superiors? She could probably finagle a good reason, if she worked hard enough. And if she only diverted one person instead of two and then put herself on the case... Her mind swirled with possibilities, but she needed more information before she could reasonably begin.

"He's from a warren in the Kephak Depot area. I know it's not particularly convenient. I'll forward you details when I...." he broke off, something occurring to him or perhaps the privacy of the call threatened or more likely it was just a hard ask, "I didn't want to tell him I was making this call. I'd prefer this stay between us. Let me see what I can dig up on him and his brother. If I get that information, you'll put someone on it though?"

It felt like he was making a deal. Maybe he was. Shit, Ruk deserved better, but what's done is done.

"Understood, Olanti," she said, coughing slightly. The switch to his last name indicated she was treating this as business. "Send me whatever you can get, but I'll get someone on it now. Kephak Depot? We can spare... We can spare someone, I think. I'll do it myself if I have to."

Unseen by Keph, the older ysoki was shaking her head, one paw pressed to her temples in an attempt at dismissing the headache that was building behind her eyes.

There was a considerable pause. When it came to Keph, he usually already had his next statements pre-planned, but in this case, he was clearly debating how to reply. These were unprecedented times and he knew that.

"Can I do anything for you..?" he tried.

"Not unless you're planning to run the blockade around Akiton just to turn up for the next beat shift," Ruk huffed, "I've lost have the precinct in the last week, we're understaffed as hell and the ones who are still showing up, well. I don't know how much longer they'll be useful. Keph, they've got undead bodies on every corner and--"

There was a choking noise, something akin to holding back tears.

"They're reanimating fallen corpses. I saw Kort two days ago, a hole straight through his chest, wandering the streets." Kort was one of the precinct's "muscles", a massive red-skinned Hylki with few words and an eye for trouble. He'd been Ruk's right hand man, a regular presence at the station and a neighborhood favorite. The mental image of him dead and still walking was no small part of why Ruk wasn't even trying to sleep anymore.

Keph's secondary arms twitched angrily, the equivalent of a clenched jaw and deeply furrowed brow.

"I didn't realize," he said, "I knew Eoxians *could* raise the dead. I didn't realize they were using it as an offensive strategy." He recalled the times he'd checked the news since Akiton fell. It seemed that Pact news was keeping this detail minimized if not hushed all together. It wouldn't matter for long as communications reopen. Everyone will know.

And that meant panic.

"It's effective psychologically as well, isn't it? It's working on you," he took a breath through a number of invisible spiracles, "Ruk, you need to sleep. I know it's hard, but you *will* feel better with a fresh head. This is a long game, and the sooner we start playing, the sooner we stop losing. I promise nothing will happen in the next 6 hours that won't be better dealt with after you've had some rest."

There it is, the guilt. He felt terrible for asking anything. The memory of the day after losing Pad played through his head like a highlight reel of nightmares. It felt like any small favor, even an inquiry, was going to make him snap.

"God, I sound like you," he admitted, knowing he did a pretty poor job of following instructions when the roles were reversed. That was all before the Stewards and The Job.

That garnered a chuckle, barely audible over the line.

"You're not wrong, on either count. I'll... try. To get some rest." Ruk sighed. She knew this had to be dredging up uncomfortable memories for Keph and she hated to put him through that. Guilt plagued her, the knowledge that she was, in part, responsible for the loss of his partner. Hell, she'd partnered them up to begin with, so long ago. She wondered if the contemplative knew her willingness to acquiesce to his personal favor requests was rooted in a pit of shame and self-hatred that she hadn't felt for the loss of any of the other men or women on her squad

"Thanks, Chief. I'll be in touch soon." He reached out a little and felt the humming minds of his nearby colleagues. These little lights were beginning to feel familiar to him and that was a comfort in the end.

"Keph? Stay safe, okay?" It was a request, but it had the tone of an order, the tone she'd use when he worked for her. "I'll keep an eye on my pad for any communiques from you."

The reply would have been a detached acknowledging smile, but from the Chief's side, it was just silence. Now he just had to get through dinner and he could finally be alone.

Alone.

He didnt want to be alone, no Contemplatives did, and for the first time in years, he wasnt. Ever since hed made the decision to bond with the group, there was this static in his mind reminding him of their presence. There is no alone like this, and that's the way it's supposed to be.

Everyone seemed to be adjusting well enough except....*right. Jeredith.*

He did feel a little bad for snapping at him, though the feeling still felt oddly justified. It occurred to him he ought to ask someone else, just to verify he wasbt the only one who thought the mysterious shapeshifter was a little *too* private.

After all, they're supposed to be a team.

He left the wall and floated over to the table, taking a seat across from Taroyn.

She reached out and took Kephales' hand and said, "Anyway, this could be your home now, if you want it to be.  I'm certainly glad you're here."

He thought for a long time about her words and then finally replied, "Thank you, but I didn't come here to put you up to comforting me. I came here for you. I'm not going bother you with constant questions and the concerns. I'll just ask you this once and then it's done. But I need to know you're being honest with me in your answer. Are you...going to be okay?"

He could read minds, he didn't need to ask, but that's what friends do. And for once, he'd take a lie as an honest answer.

"I hope so.  Being... undead... it's not something I've ever really thought about.  I'll need some time to..." she paused, trying to find the right words.  "...acclimate." 

She paused again, longer this time, and said, "Before you go, can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Yeah," he replied in as upbeat a tone he could given the conversation.

She took a deep breath and began, "This might be a bit much, but when I was dying, or I guess dead, I had a... vision. Or something. I was walking up a staircase, and I met up with my parents, and then later, a woman I was close to after they died. We all climbed up the stairs until we reached a balcony, and then Sarenrae spoke to me. She said it wasn't my time yet, and that was when I, er, woke up. What do you make of that? I've been thinking about it since it happened. I can't decide if it was a real experience or just something my brain pieced together to fill the space between when I died and came back. I mean, we all had those weird dreams earlier in that cave, and I felt something similar to what I feel when I commune with Sarenrae, but that ended up being fake."

Keph tilted his brain with a few thoughtful pulsations, "Now that's interesting. Why do you think it was fake?"

He was careful not to answer until he understood the question from all its facets.

"The nightmare?  I guess I just figured that since the three of us had one, they were something brought about by the cave itself.  I thought maybe what I experienced after death was the same thing.  I'm a little fuzzy about the whole thing, though, honestly."

"Oh," he replied. She had him by the nonexistant Contemplative balls with that question. Either he risked lying and denying the experience for him exceeded parameters for what he considered a nightmare or he is caught admitting that he had some experience with faith.

But truth was truth. And as much as he wanted to believe the experience in the cave was meaningless, that was just another memory he was running from.

"Would you believe, there was once a time that I myself was a man of some faith? In my youth, I'd found some kinship with Yaraesa's followers. She values truth and wisdom and fact over blind faith. I thought that was beautiful. It's also possible I was a rebellious contrarian who despised my own kind, but that's another story. Nevertheless, I am familiar with nightmares of the most visceral and lasting flavor and that dream in the cave felt different. I cant explain it. I... hesitate to suggest it but... I wouldnt discount the experience just yet. As for the vision, how much do you know about Borai?" He tilted his brain sac and wished hed brought more libations, though he could feel its calming effects beginning to envelope him. If he wasnt careful, he was liable to make a slip of his tongue..or worse his mind.

He did his best to stay sober for the conversation.

Taroyn pondered for a moment.  She had met several Borai throughout her life, and had even been close to one; she realized, embarrassingly, that she actually knew very little about the people with whom she now shared a race.

"In truth, not much," she finally admitted. I know they--we--are people who have died and come back, but other than that, I don't really know anything. What about you?"

"Also," she said, after a moment, "I'm curious about your faith, if you don't mind me asking."

"Well, it's said that it's your spirit and will that bring you back from death. I can't personally think of anything more powerful when it comes to spirit and will than that of one's faith. Many have reported a confrontation of life and death in metaphysical and even mystical ways. Whether Sarenrae brought you back literally or not, do you not think it's likely that connection to her might have compelled your life force to remain, unfinished business...or something?" He tried not to sound melodramatic or kitschy, "Me? My faith? I don't know. I lost the spark of it when my partner died. World's just too dark a place for fancies like that. I'd rather just forget about existentialism and focus on material problems." He shrugged his small shoulders at her with a bulbous tilt of his pink head.

"I suppose that makes sense. I guess I didn't really want to die, but who does?  Maybe my connection to Sarenrae, and to you all, kept me here. At any rate, I'm glad you stopped by. I think talking to you has helped me see things differently.  I'm still... upset, but I did just have one of the most traumatic experiences of my life - well, you know what I mean. This is going to take some getting used to." Taroyn shifted uncomfortably before saying, "By the way, I'm sorry about your partner.  Were you close?" "Yes," he said plainly, "We were married."

He got up and collected his glasses and bottle and put them back in his bag. At some point it might occur to her that his use of the term 'partner' was literal in two different ways.

"I won't bother you anymore, but just know, if you ever need to talk, I'm always here. Now, I need to go do some work. We have a lot to accomplish on Absalom and I'd prefer not to be blindsided like we were in those caves."

"Thanks, Keph. I'm glad you're with us."  She replaced her goggles, and then got up to open the door.  "And if you ever want to talk, about your partner, religion, anything, really, I'm always here."  She looked at Kephales and smiled for the first time since she'd died.

To be continued...

"I mean, that's why its called a nightcap right?" 

 Taroyn took the glass and blankly stared into it for a few moments, "Thanks."

She muttered before drinking, "I'm sorry," she said, turning her head to Kephales, "I never asked how you were holding up. To have your home devastated like that is... it's something you never think can happen. I mean, a whole planet, a Pact World, subjugated. And all those people killed." Taroyn's voice began to tremble, "It just seems hopeless. I don't know if dying changed who I am, but everything seems so bleak."

Her voice was soft now, and she began absentmindedly holding her throat, "But there's really nothing we as individuals can do to stop another planet from being invaded. I know we did a good thing finding Sarozanyxia and convincing her to return, but..." Taroyn trailed off, seemingly losing her train of thought. She handed the glass back to Kephales and laid down on the bed, saying "I'm sorry about Akiton."

"Everything is bleak, Taroyn. That I can confirm. We are an unfortunate people to be at the forefront of a new war. I will never understand what compels a people to fall to such violence, but I always believe that there are a hundred times more willing to stand up against it. We are just at the beginning now. Can you feel it?" he floated a bit closer and laid a small hand on her arm, "Can I tell you the truth of my feelings about Akiton and...hopefully avoid too much of your judgment?"

Taroyn carefully studied Kephales before replying "Please do."

Keph flopped into a seated position, his oversized brain supported over him more-so by his telekinesis than actual neck strength. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, small vestigial secondary limbs twitching like someone might tap their fingers on a table.

"In truth? Despite the tragedy -- and yes my rational mind is struggling to conceptualize the horror of it -- I'm... relieved." he said it like he was getting a great weight of his chest. "Before you judge me, hear me out."

He settled in and took a breath, which was so small it was in audible, but his chest heaved deeply. It was likely he did most of his breathing through spiracle-like orifices rather than through his mouth -- where was it anyway?

"I left the force on Akiton when I couldn't bear to be there anymore, when uh... when you love someone and lose them, it seems like everything exists to remind you of their absence. When I was headhunted by the Stewards for a job that needed someone of my expertise, it was the excuse I needed to quit. I could wrap up my feelings in paper of the Greater Good. But in truth, it ached every moment I was away."

He took another sip of his tiny Contemplative draught.

"I returned home, feeling hopeful. The pain of distance was evidence that I belonged on Akiton after all, wasn't it? Wasn't that the proof of it? And...it's true that I did find some joy in being with old friends again, having my old home back, being among my own, where every day life isn't so frustratingly incongruous. But... once again... everywhere was ghosts. And you know what was the worst? It was the knowledge that every person I met had this one first thought: 'I wonder how he's holding up after his partner died?'"

Keph shook his head with a single exhale, "I can only imagine it's the same when everyone looks at you and sees a Borai. The expression on their face, expecting you to suddenly explode like a landmine if they stepped too close. Like you're this fucking fragile thing."

The bottle ran out as he poured a final glass for each of them.

"I know what fragility is. Losing him didn't make me fragile, it made me angry. I couldn't bear their thoughts anymore. I left and never went back. Still, I've always carried this guilt, like I abandoned them or something. Like if I was a real cop, if I really gave a damn about Akiton, I'd get over myself and go home. Well..."

He downed the last glass.

"Now there is no home. And there's nothing my presence could have done to stop it. And had I been there, I'd probably be dead. So yeah... I'm relieved. As fucked up as that might be."

Taroyn sat up and faced Kephales, "I don't think there's anything wrong with that. We can't control our emotions, and losing a loved one isn't really something you just get over." She removed her goggles before she finished the last drink and continued, "I think everyone carries scars from their past, echoes of pain reverberating inside us. I can speak from experience that the feeling of guilt never really goes away. I find it helps to do all I can to keep my friends safe now."

She reached out and took Kephales' small hand and said, "Anyway, this could be your home now, if you want it to be. I'm certainly glad you're here."

To be continued...