1. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. New Omega chapter. Boo yah!
2. Lots of "relationship" (not romantic, I'm afraid) stuff in this, but it's important stuff.
3. Remember how Falynn's been acting all... well, let's face it. She's been pretty crazy lately. Now we get to beat some sense into her.
4. This was a rough section for me to write, though, and I worry it got a bit too campy. We'll have to see, I suppose.
5. Have fun, everybody. Enjoy the ride.
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48: Burdens Lightened
The blueprints that the Omegas had recovered from the local computer systems outlined, in great detail, the layout of the complex’s rooms, corridors, access points, and facilities. They’d spent some time poring over the maps and charts, trying to find the best route into the deepest levels of the base, where all the really serious experiments had been conducted. The lifts between the levels were still operational, but most of the security doors intended to halt progress through the hallways had been cut off from the base’s main security systems and were now locked tight, preventing anyone and everyone from easily making their way through those sensitive areas of the base.
That made for some good news and some bad news. The good news was that the doors, despite their sturdy construction, weren’t, technically, a permanent obstacle. Given enough time, the team could circumvent the doors and get on with the rest of their lives. The bad news was that time was one of the things they had only in short supply.
Imoen and Jan had planted themselves in front of one of these such security doors, which was blocking their passage to the primary laboratory chambers. They were busying themselves searching for a way past it. One wasn’t immediately forthcoming.
The door had been specially constructed to resist, and even counter explosive blasts; it was unlikely that even a skilled demolitionist would be able to focus enough destructive power onto the door to disable it… not without lacing the thing with enough RDX (a.k.a. Cyclonite, a.k.a. Hexogen) to bring down the entire corridor as well. That meant that breaching the door would have to be done the slow way… and Jan was doing just that.
Omega Five, amongst his other “engineering” tools, carried an “Arc-fire” plasma torch, which, when properly utilized, emitted a “flame” capable of burning through even a foot-thick durasteel door. The catch was that the process, while guaranteed to work, eventually, was painfully slow – a fact that the team was becoming all too acquainted with. Jan had been at the job for the past quarter of an hour, Imoen working beside him to guide the furrow he was carving through the metal. In that time, however, they’d made little progress. Burning through to the door’s locking mechanism might take another fifteen, and that was far too long a time to just be sitting around waiting. It was going to put the whole team at a bit of a risk.
Imoen flipped the face-shield of her helmet up and blinked her eyes. The shield was constructed of a lightweight but exceptionally strong polymer, known colloquially as “duraplas.” It was normally transparent, but automatically darkened when exposed to bright light to help keep its user from being blinded. She wiped the sweat from her forehead off on her right sleeve. “Our backs still clear?” she asked, taking a pull from the canteen she normally kept tucked in a small pouch on the outside of her right shin.
The rest of the squad had set up firing positions to cover the unit’s flanks while Omegas Two and Five worked. They hadn’t seen a trace of any enemies, and the sensor feeds they were receiving through their tac-headsets were still showing that the area was empty of everyone but them, but they’d still been sitting there for over fifteen minutes, and everyone was starting to get a little antsy.
Imoen took the plasma torch from Jan and dialed the flame down a bit, narrowing it and focusing the torch’s energy output a little more efficiently. Sparks leapt from the door and bounced along the metal plating of the deck below her feet. More sparks flitted towards her face, skipping off her helmet’s shield. She called out over her shoulder. “So lemme get this straight: we’re just going to let the Marines clean up our mess for us?”
Falynn had the firing position closest to Imoen and Jan; the others were farther down the hallway. She had been keeping her eyes downrange, watching the otherwise empty corridor in the off-chance that some orcs might come barreling through at a moment’s notice. She heard Imoen’s question and responded to it. “I know, I know…” she said with a half-sigh. “But I don’t really have any better ideas. We can’t take that entire Dominion team out ourselves. Too many targets, not enough of us to cover ‘em all. We’d risk someone getting away.” She shrugged. “Besides, Command’s mobilizing all of First Battalion.” She smirked. “I’m thinking a thousand Confed Marines have about as much the same chance of getting the job done as we would.”
Her comment drew a few snickers and a mild rejoinder. “Feeling kinda cocky this afternoon, are we?”
“No more so than usual. What’s taking so long with this door?”
“Three things: It’s big, it’s made out of metal, and it’s here.”
“Oh.”
“The lock’s electronic, but it’s not tied in to the rest of the complex’s security systems, which means no remote access to it. We need to cut our way through to the internal mechanisms so I can disable them manually.”
Falynn responded to that with a nod of understanding. “Independent operation, huh? Probably redundant backup systems and all that good stuff.”
“Probably.”
“Must mean there’s something really important on the other side that nobody wanted us to find. And, of course, it’s our job to go find it, anyway.” She sighed.
“Right. Well, we’re working as fast as we can, but it’ll take us a while.”
“Ok.”
Imoen frowned. “You know, Lynn, that extra weight is not looking good on ya…”
“Say what, now?” She looked down. She was pretty sure she hadn’t, but she supposed it was possible that she’d been putting on the tiniest bit of flab around the hips, but-
“Oh, I’m talking about psychic pounds, Pumpkin. Something wrong? What’s with you?”
Falynn held back a frustrated sigh, instead letting out something akin to an annoyed grunt. “Nothing. You know, aside from the fact that we’re stuck in some hole in the ground looking for a bunch of crap we may not find, and I’m not sure we’d want to keep even if we -did- find it. Oh, and did I forget about that whole mess with us being ordered to throw away something that might… just might, help us win this war?”
Imoen dropped what she was doing (Jan took over the torch-work) and stared at her with an expression of clear disbelief. “Lynn… what… what are you saying? That you’re actually -glad- someone was researching this shit?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“All right, then enlighten me: what are you saying?”
Falynn shook her head and sighed tiredly. To be completely truthful about things, she herself wasn’t entirely sure what she meant to say. Her thoughts were jumbled… even more so than they usually were, and she was having a very difficult time sorting them all out. “I guess all I’m saying, Im, is that we’re in a bit of a jam. Confed’s been getting pushed back quite a lot over the past two years, you know. For every battle we’ve won, we’ve lost two. Active Naval forces are at an all time low. We’ve got fewer combat vessels on the front lines now than we’ve had at any other point in the war. Ship crews and infantry personnel are serving longer and longer tours, with shorter and shorter periods of downtime in between. New recruits are being shipped off to the front lines after only a couple of months of basic training. And look at us – we haven’t seen an offensive action in forever - we’ve been rotating from one defensive assignment to another since last Marpenoth. Now is it just me, or is the whole war effort unraveling before our eyes? That doesn’t seem like a bad sign to you?”
Imoen turned away from her work, planted her hands on her hips, and glared laser bolts at her older sister. “No more than you acting like we’ve already lost.”
“Look, I just mean that things are pretty bad… and getting worse. If it comes down to it, we may need this stuff to keep the Dominion from taking everything we’ve worked to build… and, incidentally, from killing all of us in the process. If it comes down to us or them, I choose us. No contest.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s right, Lynn.”
Falynn gave a dejected shake of her head. “I don’t think there’s much ‘right’ about any part of this war, Imoen… at least… at least, not anymore.”
“Y’know, this kinda talk is not something I ever expected to hear outta you. I’ve never known you to be so pessimistic, Lynn… about anything.”
“Maybe I’m just being pragmatic,” came the sullen response.
Imoen didn’t even bother to inject any tact into her response. “Or maybe you’re just being stupid. Hate to say it, Sis, but you’ve been doing that a lot lately… which begs the question: ‘Stupid’ ain’t a good look for you, so why have you been doing it?”
Falynn didn’t answer the question. “I’m putting in for a transfer,” she said instead.
“What?!”
“Huh. Funny, that’s what Jaheira said.”
“If that’s a joke, Lynn, I’m not laughing.”
“I’m about as serious as I’ve ever been.”
Imoen was practically spitting with fury. “How can you be serious? You’re talking crazy! See, this goes back to that whole ‘You acting stupid’ thing I was talking about earlier.”
“What’s so crazy about it?” Falynn replied, indignantly. “Look… the war’s not going so great for us. That’s a fact, and pretending things are different doesn’t help anyone. Plus, I get this awful feeling that it’s all just going to get worse, and I’m getting tired of it. The worse the war gets, the worse it’s going to get for the seven of us. More missions, and more dangerous ones, too.”
The part that frightened Imoen the most was that Falynn just might have a point. Yes, it was buried underneath a mess of self-loathing, failing confidence levels, and out and out bad logic, but the tiny kernel of truth wrapped in the middle of it all… that was there… and it scared her. “We’ve always managed to scrape by, before,” she said, almost having to struggle to believe her own words.
“But it’s never been this bad, before,” Falynn said with a sad shake of her head. “And even if it has… like you said, we’re ‘scraping by.’ How long do you really expect our ‘good’ luck to hold out?”
Imoen rallied back, refusing to answer the question she considered as being only rhetorical in nature. “And how does this fit in with you calling it quits and leaving the rest of us behind?”
“I’m not going to desert the war effort, Imoen. You know me. Assuming the Confederation would even let me, there’s no way I could just sit on the sidelines and not do anything to try and help.” She shook her head. “I’m just going to be transferring to another unit. The only difference between there and here is that-“
And suddenly, it all clicked into place. The motivations, the reasoning… what she was running from. Falynn hadn’t needed to finish her sentence; her point had already been made. Imoen’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You and I won’t be in the same squad, anymore.”
A slightly unsure nod. “Yeah…”
Imoen’s tone went cold, and it seemed as if every word was coming out through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. “And you won’t be in a position where you have to order me, or Jaheira, or Minsc or whoever into combat. Just another grunt, huh? Taking orders… and no responsibility for anyone but yourself, is that it?”
“Yeah…”
“You’re a coward, Lynn.” Imoen’s anger had been faint at first, a vague underpinning lurking in the metaphorical shadows behind her words. It built up with alarming speed, and she made no attempts to hide it.
“I’m sorry?”
“Did I friggin’ stutter? I called you a coward.”
Falynn let out a tired sigh, though, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t seem very fazed by her younger sister’s outburst of temper. “No, I got that. I’m just a little fuzzy on why.”
“Because, Lynn, you can’t just walk up to someone one day and say ‘Hey, you know this group I’ve been a part of for like four years? It’s not really working out for me, so I’m taking off. I’ll see you later.’ We’ve been through too much together for you to just walk away like that, so I’m not going to let you.”
“Imoen-“
“Don’t ‘Imoen’ me, Falynn,” she said, practically snarling as she over-enunciated the syllables of her older sister’s full name – something she usually only did when she was extremely angry. “You remember what we did last month? And two months before that? You remember what we’re doing here, right now? We’re saving the world – again. You don’t think that has any value? Well, think again. It sucks, Lynn – big time – but this war isn’t ending any time soon. It’s gonna keep going… with or without you. Now nobody can question your service; no one can question your commitment to making things better… and if you wanted to quit, to move on, because you thought you’d already done your fair share, then fine. I think a lot of people would go to bat for you… hell, they might even throw you a parade. I know I would.”
Imoen shook her head, her expression having gone through a sudden change from angry to troubled. She almost looked as if she would burst into tears at any moment. Her voice had dropped to an impassioned whisper. “But if you’re quitting because it’s easier than continuing the fight, then you are not the hero I’ve always thought you were.” Her voice trailed off for a brief moment before strengthening yet again. “The Confederation needs this team,” she said with utter conviction, “and this team needs you, Lynn.”
“That’s just it, Im. I’m not a hero… I… I never was… and I don’t think you understand how difficult it is…” Falynn protested feebly. “How hard it is to have to do this to all of you… send you out on missions… wonder if you’ll be coming home alive. And what happens when I have to send you to do something that I -know- will get you killed? What happens when I have to order you to your deaths? I used to think I could handle that, but… it… it’s too hard, now…”
“It -is- hard… but it’s not too hard. I know you worry about us. That’s who you are, Lynn, you’re a worrier… and all this BS about how we’re all adults and how we all make our own decisions, even those that’ll get us killed… I know that doesn’t mean a damned thing to someone like you. But for the rest of us, it -does- mean something. None of us hold you responsible for what could or couldn’t happen; none of us would hold you responsible if you had to make the choice between our lives and the lives of thousands or maybe even millions of innocents, and you shouldn’t hold yourself responsible, either.”
She frowned, looking her older sibling straight in the eye without flinching. “But you do. That’s a fact; that’s just how things are right now. You’re responsible for all of us because you’ve declared yourself responsible, and right now, nothing I say is going to change your mind. I can accept that. You worry about us, and you always will. That’ll never change. But I know you, and I know that you could never trust anyone other than yourself with the responsibility for keeping us alive. Even if we went home right now, and you marched right up to Keldorn’s desk and said ‘Colonel, I can’t do this, anymore. I’m out.’ Even if you did that, and you got your transfer, that wouldn’t be the end of it. You would agonize over what was happening to us. It would keep you up at night. Because while you might, in a fit of self-loathing, wonder if someone else could do your job better than you could, you would never, for a moment, accept the idea of someone else holding that responsibility. For all the good that could come, for all the bad that could come, you’ve claimed that responsibility as yours; I can’t ever see you giving it up.”
Imoen paused for a moment, but then continued before Falynn could respond. “Lynn, you need to understand something. We’re all here because we all have something to contribute. We all have our strengths; none of us have yours.” She reached out and tapped a finger against her sister’s forehead. “this is what separates you from the rest of us… this is what makes you different. Something needs to get done – maybe the rest of us could figure out the where and the when… but you… you figure out the how, and, maybe more importantly, the why. I can’t do that. Jaheira can’t. Minsc can’t. Jan definitely can’t. That’s always been up to you… and every single one of us, yourself included, knows it. So don’t try to tell me otherwise.” She looked Falynn in the eye and stared hard. “We need you; you know we need you. You’re not going anywhere.”
Neither of them said anything for the next few seconds – Imoen because she felt she’d made her point, and Falynn because she simply didn’t know what to say. Imoen was… probably right, and it was Falynn’s mistake for having underestimated her yet again. People were always underestimating Imoen; Falynn should have known better, and yet she’d once again fallen into the same trap. Despite how close they were, despite how long they’d known each other, even Falynn was sometimes surprised at how her younger sister just seemed to instinctively be able to grasp a situation, take it apart, and find what needed to be fixed.
But more than that, she found herself even more astonished at just how… loyal her younger sibling was to her. It didn’t matter how much she doubted herself, it didn’t matter how much she questioned her own decisions, or even how many close calls they’d had over the years – Imoen had never judged her, never blamed her… she had always stuck by her, and had always supported her. Falynn loved her for that, and yet it frightened her, too… because she was never sure she could live up to those expectations, to be that hero she apparently was in the other woman’s eyes. Falynn never liked to fail at anything, but failing at this was one of the worst things she could ever imagine happening. She couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t.
“You are such an idiot,” Imoen said, the harsh words belying the gentleness of her voice. She stood up on her tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on the other’s forehead.
It was a hard thing when someone told you they loved you, and you didn’t feel like you deserved it. Falynn swallowed, fighting past a lump in her throat. “Love you, too.”
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“I saw you two talking. Is everything all right?”
“No, but it’s better. Maybe it’s not a lot better, but it’s better.” Imoen sighed. “I don’t know, Jaheira. Sometimes… sometimes it’s like Lynn absolutely refuses to acknowledge that she’s good at what she does… like she can’t let herself believe that it’s not just dumb luck that we’ve been at this for so long and haven’t gotten ourselves killed. I try to tell her I have faith in her-”
The Tethyrian frowned, sadly. “And all that does is make her think that trust is unjustified.”
Imoen managed a cheerless nod.
“She does it to me, too.”
“I know… and it’s not fair to you, Jaheira.”
“What isn’t?”
“You know what I mean. She always gets so defensive around you.”
Jaheira managed a shrug. “I -am- often harsh with her. I won’t deny that.”
“I know, but it’s more than that. She acts as if… like your only purpose in life is to yell at her for any mistakes she might ever make. Even the tiniest slip, and you’d be all over her. I know that’s not what you’re trying to do. I know you’re just looking out for us, and it just bothers me how she sometimes acts as if you’re not… as if you think she can’t be trusted. But you do trust her… don’t you?”
“I suppose I do at that.”
“So how come you know that, I know that, and she doesn’t? Or at the very least, she won’t accept it.”
A small, sad smile formed across the half-elf’s face, as if the question were one she asked herself all the time. And the answer she gave her younger friend was the same answer it had taken her a long time to come up with. She could never be sure of course, but she felt, deep down, that she’d stumbled across the truth of the matter. “Because, Imoen, it is easier to put me in the bad light. Hating yourself constantly is a painful thing… too painful even for someone like Falynn. Instead of blaming yourself for all the shortcomings you see in yourself, it’s easier to act as if someone else is passing judgment on you. I just happened to be the rather obvious choice for that role.”
The younger of the two Llyr sisters looked up, eyes slightly wide in surprise and confusion. “But… that’s not right.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
”Then why do you put up with it?”
Another sad smile. “For the same reason you do, Imoen: she is my friend, and I care for her, same as you.”
“I wish she knew how you felt. It might help.”
“She does. After all we have been through, I honestly don’t see how she could not. Whether she allows herself to admit it, however… that is an entirely different story. But I trust her… I trust her with my life… and I trust that, on some level, she truly knows how we all feel.”
Imoen nodded. “That’s comforting, I guess.”
“I like to think so.”
