K is for Kamabo (Splatoon)

Chapter 9

Saturday, 12:12 a.m.
Sector J03/D08

The two of them had been walking in silence for an hour, which normally would have been fine. Neither Nat nor Agent 3 felt like making small talk. But to continue staying quiet, Eight realized, would be passing up the chance to speak with an NSS agent. This was a good opportunity for Eight to learn a bit more about her own boss. Director Callie Cuttlefish was forthcoming and candid about herself, but only to an acceptably professional degree, so Eight hoped that her rescuer might shed some light on the military director and former agent.

"Do you know Director Cuttlefish?" Eight asked. Eight took note of how Agent 3 had taken the lead, an obvious breach of protocol. Even in combat situations, Octarian forces always ordered themselves by rank and seniority. There was no way Agent 3 could have possibly had more experience than Eight herself, a twenty-six-year-old who had clocked in more than a decade with the military. A teenager like Agent 3 should have been marching behind her seniors, and Eight should have been leading.

Unless Agent 3 had been training since birth or something like that. Things probably worked differently in Inkopolis, Eight mused, a city where people were supposedly willing to take any means necessary to get what they wanted. Eight wouldn't have been surprised if they forced their special agents to spend entire lives preparing for fieldwork. Maybe Agent 3 did outrank Eight in terms of experience.

Or maybe this particular Inkling simply had no idea what the rules were.

"No," the NSS agent answered after a noticeable pause. Eight was about to repeat herself, and she got caught off-guard by the Inkling's sudden answer—the younger girl had given no indication that she even heard the question, and she had spoken without looking back or breaking stride.

"Wasn't Director Cuttlefish part of the NSS?" Eight tried.

"No," Agent 3 repeated in Octarian, keeping her back to the former lieutenant.

Eight furrowed her brow. That couldn't be right. Callie had told everyone about how she freed Octavio, betrayed the NSS, and came to the Canyon. Callie had even held the title of Agent 1 for many years as the long-standing frontrunner of Inkopolis's assassins. Everyone knew that.

"Callie Cuttlefish came to us last year," the Octoling started. "After freeing Octavio."

She stopped, suddenly realizing that she was touching on a sensitive subject. Eight could sense that the little warrior in front of her getting upset—she made a barely perceptible change in posture, and her back straightened ever so slightly. Callie had betrayed the NSS, after all, so perhaps Agent 3 didn't exactly remember Callie in the best light.

"...Is this something you don't want to talk about, Agent 3?"

"No."

Eight took note of it.

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On the other end, Nat did her best to stay cool. An old wound had opened back up. Rage flared inside of her, and she gritted her teeth. Distractions such as sadness, grief, and anger were distractions and nothing more, she believed. She had never been great at dealing with her emotions, especially not these negative ones.

It wasn't Eight's fault, Nat figured. She wouldn't have known.

Once upon a time, two Inklings got very close very quickly, a logical consequence of being in close proximity for long periods of time. At first, it was all professional. They spent hours training together and discussing techniques. They saved each other's lives countless times. Agent 3 had her senior's back, and Agent 1 led her junior through the hairiest of situations. One time, the two of them got ambushed by a squad of Elites in broad daylight. Without hesitating, Nat jumped in front of her squadmate and took a bullet to the chest for her. Shot in the leg herself, Callie carried her bleeding partner out of the fray, escaping by the skin of her teeth. Callie was hospitalized for several days; Nat, several months. A bullet had punctured Nat's lung and lodged itself into her gut, rupturing half a dozen vital organs. And yet, despite the five percent chance of survival the doctors had given her, despite her near-zero probability of any kind of substantial recovery, Nat sprang back to life and went right back to work.