August of Whump day 14: dehumanisation | darkness | alone
Series inspired by @/i-eat-worlds (not bc I think it's in any way similar but bc I've been reading their Starcross and went "wait aliens and living weapons and what if humans trained living weapons against aliens and-" so this wouldn't have been written without them)
Josiah, a soldier and a handler for Earth Security, meets his new assets.
927 words
CWs: minor whump (aged 14 and up), multiple whumpees, dehumanisation, talk of people as assets, living weapons, talk of punishment, scared whumpees, brief mention of past death
Josiah skims the briefing for a final time before folding it into a tiny square and stuffing it in his inside pocket. It only tells him what he already knows. This is an asset team, usual make-up, previous handler lost in a solo mission. There's the usual photos and descriptions, but as long as none of them are malfunctioning too badly he'll do this on his own.
He raps on the metal door three times in quick succession. It opens shortly to reveal two teenagers standing at parade rest.
Only two are ready immediately. They can do better.
The one on the right is about 5', stocky, with pale skin and dirty blonde hair shorn short. The usual titanium plate replacing part of a mekanikisto's skull is painted with delicate, intricate flowers (not exactly what he'd class as acceptable decoration but he's not in charge of uniform, unfortunately). Pastel shorts are just visible under a very baggy t-shirt, and her eyes are narrowed slightly in a display of what's not quite outright hostility. This must be Ŝpalo. Youngest in the team at 14 years old, British mother, Texan father. Far too much spunk.
The boy beside her is a little taller. Dark and wiry, ginger locs flowing out from under a bright blue bandana, he doesn't take his eyes off Josiah. He's dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, but not from training, Josiah's pretty sure. He's just relaxing. This team has far too much unstructured downtime, and they're clearly not using it wisely. This is probably Viro. 17 years old, Grenadian, tradukinto.
There should be two more assets in here, and Josiah peers around Ŝpalo and Viro into the remarkably tidy dorm room. On one of the bottom bunks a third teenager is curled up, surrounded by bedding that doesn't quite touch them. Josiah can't see them very well, just the ends of a few dark, elaborate braids curling over their trembling shoulder.
The final asset is frozen, standing beside the bunk in overlarge fleecy pyjamas, holding a jug of water and staring at Josiah with large, wide eyes. They have light brown skin, short dark hair, and a port-wine stain on their left cheek. Josiah guesses this is Granda. Aged 19, Filipino-Chinese, the normie.
Which by process of elimination makes the person on the bed the mensoleganto. Luno. Aged 15 with DVD, Bangladeshi heritage, and they really should be better than this.
"At ease," Josiah mutters. Two out of four isn't too bad, he supposes, for a team that's just lost their handler, but really. They're old enough to know better.
Ŝpalo and Viro relax their stances, although Ŝpalo keeps her head high, jutting her chin out. "Who are you, sir?"
"Sergeant Wellsmith, your new handler."
Granda straightens suddenly and salutes, nearly dropping the jug. "Sir."
"At ease, Granda. Set that jug down before you drop it."
Granda blushes as they obey, setting it down beside Luno.
Ŝpalo and Viro exchange a loaded glance.
"What do you want from us?" asks Ŝpalo, fists clenching at her sides. "Are we starting training with you now, sir? Because–"
"Ŝpalo," Josiah says sharply, and she cuts off, chin tilting up, eyes narrowed, still looking angry–
No. No, not angry.
Scared.
Determined, and scared. Why is she–
Viro moves to block Granda and Luno from his sight. Oh. Huh. This is new. Assets aren't supposed to act like this.
"If you're trying to hide someone, you don't move to where they are," Josiah reminds him. It must be a reminder, mustn't it? He should've learnt that by now. It's part of basic training.
"They did nothing wrong," says Ŝpalo. "Punish me, not them, I'm the one who was defiant."
Very defensive. This is interesting. An unusual asset team, to be sure. And it seems his predecessor was very heavy on individual punishments. Unfair ones?
"If I was going to punish anyone, it would be a team punishment. But I've only just arrived, and I'm not." His gaze flickers to Luno again. "What's their condition?"
"What do you care? They're just a weapon, aren't they? So long as they're working why does it matter?"
"I require my assets to be in good working condition," replies Josiah stiffly. "And I want to know if they're not. Ŝpalo, if you don't want to earn your team a punishment then I suggest you rapidly improve your behaviour."
Ŝpalo looks off-balance for the first time, eyes darting around their teammates before she falls completely silent. Viro's eyebrows knit but he doesn't say anything. Good. Better.
Josiah's not impressed with his predecessor. Couldn't even get Ŝpalo's attitude under control. You don't want a mekanikisto with that sort of an attitude. Don't want to end up with another Omega team situation.
"They'll be in working order for their next training session, sir," says Granda quickly. Too quickly. Very eager to please. Does that rate higher than accuracy in this asset? He hopes not.
"Good. Do they need anything to assist with that?"
"No, sir."
"Right. I want to meet you all properly before we start training together. I'll give you ten minutes to sort yourselves out and meet me in the blue briefing room. You can wear civvies."
"Yes, sir," says Granda crisply. Ŝpalo scowls. Luno doesn't even look round and Viro just looks weary.
Good grief. He has a lot to train into these assets. Looking at their results so far they'll be worth it in the end, but they don't even have the right attitude. There's a long way to go with this team.
