Making The Alpha Submit (BL)

CHAPTER 12.5: LATE AFTERNOON AUDIENCE

October 19, xxxx (Late afternoon)

NUKA ANSWERS THE TENTATIVE knocking on the door and to his surprise sees eleven Blue Sun omegas shuffling their feet queueing on the steps of the Alpha's office.

The ringleader, buzcut George they call him seeks an arbitrary urgent audience with the Alpha. Nuka softly close the door and walk back in towards the hunched, focused Alpha furiously scribbling, reading and munching on coffee sweets—too occupied to even look up not to talk of pausing his multitasking to entertain a sudden audience.

"Alpha North," he calls, counts to three before forcefully calling his attention. "Alpha North."

Precious concentration snaps, the pen halts, his brain blinks, the sweat breaks and for this, he raise frowning eyes to a sheepish but determined Nuka who knows better than to disturb him.

"What?"

"Blue Sun omegas are outside asking for an audience."

"Send them away."

"They claim it's urgent. They won't leave unless you receive them."

The last is an outright lie Nuka hopes won't come back to bite him in the ass but part of his job as secretary is ensuring the Alpha take a break from his everyday rigorously mind-numbing tasks (even if the break is attending to another work)

Dropping the pen, Precious chews, swallows, leans back rolling a hard sweet between his fingers to then wave a hand towards the door after a long-suffering sigh.

One after the other, eleven sunken cheeked omegas file in (high cheekbones is a fashion statement almost all Blue Dun aspire for but after a full year as North Star, Nuka has taken to the round cheeks the Pack favour more: Their sunken cheeks is a result of not wanting to be influenced but at the same time, being far from home to really care) spreading out across the office large enough to accommodate thirteen people but small enough for the fit to be a tad uncomfortable, each clothed in various stages of dressing, most favouring knickers and tank tops.

Buzzcut George, a small but large omega whose nervous eyes skitter around the Alpha to ultimately land on his blue/white polkadot tie.

Precious notes that the omegas are not a firm united front; five on one side, Buzzcut George leading that group, six on the other side admiring wooden floors, the lantern chandelier, drawn curtains, brown leather sofa.

Buzzcut George beats around the bush with his verbose greeting but Precious doesn't have time for his nerves. Impatient, he tells the omega to spit it out.

"We want to be North Star."

The declaration comes as a surprise but doesn't take him aback. For some of them, it's been close to a year since their controversial arrival, for others less so. Particularly the latest addition omega that tried to kill him as little as what, fourteen days ago?

"And everyone agrees with this?"

"Ye—"

"I wasn't asking you."

An eyebrow arch, he observes and hears noncommittal variations of agreement. Dissatisfied with the lacklustre answers, he shines a spotlight on omega Galari, the latest addition.

"What about you? You agree wholeheartedly?"

He hums and haws but one sharp look from Buzzcut George has him stammering an acquiesce.

"You do realize, George, that every single one of you have waved a knife in my face," awkward at the reminder,  they glance away biting the insides of their cheeks, "Forgive me if I don't believe the sudden change of heart."

"It's not sudden!" Taba springs forward, wide-eyed and chafed at the accusation. "We didn't wake up this morning and decided to bother you."

"We've thought long and hard about this," Buzzcut George wisely interrupts, giving Taba a side-eye. "We live under the same roof as North Star, we obey the rules, act like... Essentially, we are North Star without the proper transition."

"Besides, you gave him a second chance," Taba pouts, referring to Nuka, "Why not the rest of us?"

"Nuka didn't try to kill me." He says matter-of-factly to which Taba balks and back down. "There's nothing I can do. You are Blue Sun. Your Alpha will have to reject you, traditionally."

Buzzcut George shakes his head, sticking sweaty hands in his pockets. "He doesn't care about us. You can force it, it'll be easy on omegas. We want to be North Star."

Heads bobs in passionate agreement.

"Unfortunately, I can't do that. But if you stay here long enough and are as loyal as you say you're, the Blue Sun mark will cease. That's the only time I'll intervene."

That's the only time a transition will be easy. Buzzcut George adamantly tries to convince him.

"It could take years, Alpha North. We are rival but don't feel that way. The Alpha Blue Sun doesn't want us, the North doesn't trust us, we're stuck in an unfair limbo."

Unmoved like an anchor, Precious spreads his arms wide and shrugs.

"Then why are you complaining? Do you think I'll hold your hand? If you don't want to prove yourselves, then don't. Wait for your Alpha to collect you."

At his no-nonsense tone, the omegas bow their heads as if grieving, submissive and silenced.

"If you want to stay here, then no matter how long it takes, you'll prove you deserve to be here. North Star doesn't run a charity."

They want to argue, Taba and Buzzcut George in particular but the authority of his stature, of his gaze—the finality of his words makes them reconsider and shuffle forlornly out of his office.

Their presence must've opened a reaction for disturbances that mere seconds after their departure, a troubled Doc enter bringing with her the saddest news of the day.

"Lata suffers from PTSD. She remembers certain things like her name, her friend... She knows she's a Shifter, is a Blue Sun but anything significant is a total blank. She doesn't recall anything about her Pack, not her family or even the Alpha."

Nuka gasps behind a hand covering his mouth and while it is a sombering news, Precious expected it. From Anduan discribing in vivid details how they met her, it's a miracle she remembers anything at all. He worries about Kamil—the state of him this morning had been concerning, wonders how he'll take the news.

"I don't recommend her confinement," the Doc continues, "Sure Hayan is a constant presence and the Major worries about her but being stuck in that room will set her back."

"It's too early to parade her about. Our informant hasn't returned with any illuminating news—"

"What damage can imprisoned Blue Sun omegas do? You and I both know North Star will welcome her with open arms."

He contemplates for effect. "How about clandestine walks? Will you be willing to do that?"

"I will but she's familiar with the Major—"

"I can do it," Nuka pipes up, face contorted in pity. "She's Blue Sun. I can tell her things about them and see if anything jumps out at her," a shrug, "It'll be easy to extract information from her too."

"Try not to show your dubious motives when talking to her, will you?" Nuka dips his head and blushes in embarrassment.

"Besides, you're busy enough as it is—"

"No, no. I can do it. Let me. It'll be easy enough, Blue Sun to er..ex Blue Sun."

"That sounds reasonable. Alpha?"

"You're certain, Nuka? Clandestine means later in the night. Way later in the night. Won't you sleep?"

"If there's anything I learn from you Alpha is that sleep is underrated."

Nuka jokes and smiles but Precious doesn't share the humour.  Insomnia should be the last thing Nuka or anyone else should learn from him. But he nods and gives the okay as if he'll be glad to have a sleep deprived secretary one of these days.