Tensai Productionz

The young sergeant balled their fists in their lap as they sunk into the uncomfortable metal chair, mentally counting to try to keep themself from saying something stupid. Their ideas were considered crazy. The COI see Eden as nothing but killing machines, while they thought they were just desperate people. Desperate people can become dangerous, especially when their religious leader turns the people against others. What did the Old World call them? Cults? Wasn't there one that was like Eden?

“He didn’t kill me though,” they mumbled under their breath. They knew the sergeant major heard. They refused to look up at the senior sergeant, knowing that he was probably fuming and trembling from his anger. If they were in a different situation they would have laughed at how red his face got from his anger. How his eye twitched in frustration and he gripped the hair at the start of his hairline.

“If your cadet hadn’t stepped in you would be dead sergeant! Recklessly running into trouble is not the role of sergeant. How many times do I have to remind you?!”

“Sergeant major Flores, how long have you known me? Since I was a kid? Besides, he was injured! What, you want him to die? Aren’t we supposed to save as many people as we can? We don’t have enough people to keep going, we need new recruits,” they shout as they sit up at the edge of the chair and threw their arms in front of themself, trying to prove their point.

The sergeant major was quiet for a while before sighing and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath as he tried to calm himself down. The hand on the table closed into a fist before being pulled as he plopped down into his chair.

"I swear to all that remains, you will be the death of me sergeant," he growled, right hand moving from his nose to his temple as his elbow moved to rest on his chair's worn out arm. He was quiet for a while, eyes closed as he tried to figure out a fair punishment.

They were right. The C.O.I. needed more people, more recruits to keep the stations running and to go on different missions. Especially one moon. However, there was a difference between a normal person from Eden; and this specific convict.

The Butcher

_____

"You're on disciplinary probation for the next 90 days."

They scoffed, leaning back in their chair with a roll of their eyes, arms dropping to their sides.

"Seriously!? For one measly scrap with a convict? Neither of us died-""-your cadet nearly died from shock! You were just supposed to guard the convict, next thing they knew you were being choked by someone who's said to have killed at least sixty people," the older man shouted as he slammed his left hand back onto the table, making the younger member of the C.O.I. flinch. He glared down at the other before sighing as he ran his hand over his face. "You are moved to kitchen staff for the next 90 days. If you attempt anything, including even looking at the holding cells, you are to be stripped of your status as sergeant, permanently. Do you understand?"

The younger sergeant was quiet for a while, looking up at the corner of the room. They didn't want to say anything; that meant they'd have to acknowledge that they were in the wrong.

"Do you understand!?"

The temporarily unranked C.O.I. member grumbled as they sat up properly and looked at their superior, then nodded. They put their hands in their lap then looked down at them, fingers picking at dead skin and the dirt from underneath their finger nails. They couldn't bear to look up at the older man, feeling like a child who had been caught by their parent in the middle of chaos. They knew that the sergeant major was fair in their punishment but that didn't mean they were jumping with joy to admit that.

"Good. You are dismissed," he sighed, left hand moving to his chair arm once again. He tapped his fingers against the cold metal as he stared at the embarrassed and frustrated C.O.I. member. They sighed before standing up, left arm loose against their side, right hand moving to press their pointer finger against their brow, eyes rolling slightly as they looked to the side.

They heard the older man give an exacerbated sigh and grumble as they turned to face the door and drop their hand. Their right hand reached for the door handle, rusted metal scratching against their hand as they twisted it and pulled the door open. Then, the sergeant major suddenly called out.

"Don't get too attached to that convict," he warned, making the younger officer pause and turn around with a raised brow. The older man had an, almost apologetic, tone. He never had any emotion besides frustration, anger, and tiredness. Something isn't right.

"The station on AT-5 needs more hands, if that Convict is not tamed in 5 months, or showing any signs of improvement, he'll be sent over to help with research. The exploration is going well for the most part, but there's been new activity."

The younger officer growled to themself before sighing and muttering an 'understood', then disappeared into the hallway. They walked through the fading, paint chipping halls, listening to their fellow comrades sneer and laugh as they walked by.

"What's the count at, now? Fifty," a blonde haired man laughed, nudging his elbow into his friend's side. The other man, with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes, rolled said eyes with a mocking smile, eyes creased from his mirth.

"I don't know man, I lost count. Think it'll last this time? Or the favorite gonna get away with shit again?"

The, temporarily civilian, sighed through their nose before standing tall, head held high and arms pressed against their sides, trying to build up their confidence. It didn't work very well. Especially when someone stuck their leg out and tripped them. They gasped as their legs moved, trying to find steady footing while their arms went up, trying to protect their face. They let out a noise of pain as their body hit the ground with a heavy thud, the hall burst into scattered laughter as the young civilian lifted themself onto their forearms and looked around.

There were maybe ten people in the hall, some having come from the cafeteria while others had come from training. They stared with anger, frustration, mock sympathy, and glee. The C.O.I. was normally very strict, if anyone else had done as much as the 'sergeant' had, they would be stuck as a private until a new Sergeant Major was promoted and replaced Sergeant Major Flores. Even then, they likely would be stuck cleaning and working in the kitchen.

The fact that the soft hearted 'sergeant' only got a slap on the hand, every time they made a mistake…well, it was clear why people weren't happy.

Their sympathy and empathy made fun of and thought of as a weakness. Why waste resources on convicts, especially the most dangerous and deadly convict?

With a growl, they pushed themself to stand, fixing and straightening their shirt before continuing to their barracks. About half way there the hallways started to darken, the yellow lights became sparse, only one in every five lights turned on to conserve power. When only one person lived in a wing of the barracks, why waste resources? Especially for the misfit who cared about convicts?

With a grumble, the unranked C.O.I. member took a left instead of a right, wondering into the old library that hardly anyone used. They pull out the first chair at the first of six tables, looking down at the old, solid wood that had somehow survived the Quiet Rapture and the hunt for materials that ensued. It was splintered, and the center of the table was a lighter color due to the friction and oil of people using it.

With a small click, the sympathetic person turned on the small, lone lamp as they prepared to do research.

"Let's see, growing plants, medicinal herbs," they muttered, walking with their hand just brushing over the spines of the faded, tired books. They had visited so often, looking for some way to help the C.O.I. in their own way. If they learned what kind of soil medicinal herbs needed, they could find seeds and plant them. Then the C.O.I. could rehabilitate the convicts. Having something to do should help keep the convicts calm enough that they won't cause problems, and the C.O.I. needs the herbs. It'll have to stay balanced for it to work.

"There you are," they say softly, grabbing the tired spine of the book. It's pages were worn and fragile, an occasional page was missing while another was faded and hard to make out the words. They flipped through the carefully marked pages, taking notes on the plants, their soil type, minimum square footage, as well as which plants could be grown together.

"We have wheat and dandelions, food will always be needed, the leaves and roots are medicinal, and they both grow in the same ph level. Ginger and green tea plants can grow together, that means we'd need separate fields."

They walked back to the table with the book in hand, plus a book on soil acidity and how it affects crops, as well as which foods produce more or less of certain elements. It was quiet a few books and they couldn't help but wish for someone to help them with their research.

Tag List!

@ohhelloimsotired @galactix-bunny @itsjustmebluesilly @bdifh-main @thewitchandthepangolin @pjuske12hh @playful-pupster @differentduckmentality @catherineisabunny @starlitwitch11 @aceduzmusic @starryvirus @holymolylover @woodsyrain56 @bugs-chan @zappy-xander @funnierbusiness @daeagon @knees-and-bees @living-deadb0y @bad-at-living @an-atlas-or-other @cloudyoutpostranger @9sealsinaballgown @cartoons-n-cereal @mistic404 @feather--down @tigersharktheautisticseawing @the-one-and-only-vic-lociraptor @yourdeargatsby @collarado @alwayssc0nfus3d @knine-nights @zephyre-fantasmic @sleepdeprived-foxlol @bonesexegraveyard @marmora-keith @babipotato @taffyfairy @innersanctuaries @currentlylivingonaprayer @oliverquary @rusty-spooooooooon @slow-reboot @hildaravio @nebulonvoid @whymustwebehere @neptunic-chaos @thevictoryqueen @randominternetartist @heartswirl3025

It's here!!! No Simoon for now, but more Grace & Rocky shenanigans! Hope you enjoy!!!

if anyone doesn't get the Grace part in this; it's referencing the light that appears on his face from the petrovascope in that one scene!