Codename Alpha: Intervention

Chapter Fourteen - Big Mess

I began shouting nonsense out of anger. Subconsciously, I knew that was a bad idea, considering that they could have been standing outside or something. Obviously, my better judgement was impaired, as I constantly kept repeating the fact that I could've recorded their entire exchange over in my head. That would've instantly turned the mutineers against them, once they learned about their true plans. It would've been such an easy solution, and I had absolutely screwed it up.

There really wasn't any other way to describe how I felt than simply hopeless. I doubted that there was anything meaningful I'd be able to do within the new ten-hour window. Hell, I hadn't intended to waste time or anything before, but now with a maximum amount of time, I just felt like all I could do was lay on the floor and just wait for death to come to me, or something.

I collapsed on the floor and just began to sob uncontrollably, with my body seemingly unwilling to do anything else. The fact that Yashina, Simek, and likely some others were either directly or indirectly - really, that part didn't matter - resoibsubke for the death of Dyson, and so many others, was just unthinkable. The additional fact that they were so casual about it in their earlier conversation, or whatever it could've been called, absolutely did not help.

Out of impulse, I suddenly clenched my right fist and slammed it hard against the metal deck plating, and instantly, I regretted doing so. "Shit!" I shouted, once more too loud, as I grabbed my wrist with my other paw to try and relieve the pain. I wanted nothing more than for it to have been Yashina or Simek - again, it didn't really matter to me who, in specific, carried out the attack - that I punched instead. In fact, a punch wouldn't have sufficed. Beaten to a bloody pulp, or perhaps choked out, were something I'd prefer.

"Shit..." I muttered, as I slowly pushed myself up from the ground, trying not to put too much weight on my right paw. I retraced my steps back into the armory, and as I shook my right paw, the automatic lights were triggered, blinding me for a few seconds. Despite this, I was still thinking about Yashina and Simek, and how, at present, I really wanted nothing more than to see them dead. The sudden burst of rage came back to me, and I kicked at the air, shouting nonsense once more.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to regain my composure. The ensuing silence and calm was certainly mellowing, and the thought dawned that once all was said and done, I really should go through with that counseling appointment I had scheduled. I certainly wasn't a patron saint, but I had never really thought violent things to that degree about anyone specific in recent memory. With a somewhat clearer head, I realized that my line of thinking wasn't exactly sound when it came to anything at the moment, and talking to someone would probably help. I seemed to be going through all of Nazarian's Stages of Grief at once, including whichever one made you laugh about a terrible situation.

I took in another long, deep breath and began walking around the armory once more, letting myself relax now that they were gone. The thought did occur as I admired the racks of weapons that were indeed far more humane ways to deal with them both. After all, capital punishment, even for treason and war crimes, had been abolished decades before I was even born. I wasn't sure what the exact arrangements could even be, but placing them under arrest and carrying out a proper trial on Earth would probably work.

Since they both seemed to be using the armory as a sort of covert meeting place, I thought, for a moment, about somehow luring them in and shooting them. However, I wasn't an action hero, they were heavily armed, and I was just one person. That's not to say it wasn't still alluring, though, as was the idea of them both being blown up by the pipe bomb I was going to build. However, all this only served to bring back some memories I had, from growing up in Korosten.

Oftentimes, Eric and I would attend a veteran's advocacy and outreach meeting at the seventeenth Precinct Community Center, a block down from our apartment in Kanin. Growing up, it was mainly for the free bacon pierogi as well as the subsequent videogame night with the veterans who stayed after the meeting. We, or at least I, were pretty young and so the stories and discussions oftentimes flew over our heads. However, there were some which stuck with me, and I was remembering one of them now. I don't quite remember their name, but they were a Kosjeric Lynx, and had served as a paratrooper landing way up north during Operation Kyselý-Sanford. In short, they'd said that contemplating killing people was easy, and actually carrying out the act is where it got difficult. Since they were a paratrooper in Kreml-occupied territory, their company couldn't take prisoners, and oftentimes had to execute surrendered soldiers on-site.