CHAPTER 33
Nick woke up, as was becoming the norm, sandwiched between Gwyn's boobs and a gently purring Salad. He skritched the cat behind the ears, and when that failed to rouse him, added the chin, and eventually just picked him up and made his way off Gwyn's lap. She stirred, but they'd been up late last night furthering his horror movie education, along with a nice little makeout session. Well, little and nice for him, probably pretty intense for Gwyn, that many points of contact would be a lot for any woman. He let her sleep, they'd said their goodbyes.
He'd just dumped some yogurt down his gullet when Cait strolled in, beaming as usual. She scooped up Salad like a baby, faffing with his belly as she snuck past the dozing Gwyn. Nick had wondered where his friend had been last night, but he'd been able to smell that Lira and some strangers had been here before he and Gwyn returned from dinner so connected the dots.
Something about the smell of the strangers, or at least one of them, had disturbed him when he'd entered the room, sending a shiver of fear down his non-existent spine. When Gwyn had started the horror movie gauntlet, it had been quickly forgotten, if anything adding to the ambiance. Now though, as Cait walked up to him, he recoiled.
She reeked of it. A scent that turned his mind nearly feral with primal fear. Not one his human mind could place, or that he thought he'd ever smelled back when he was normal. He tried to fight it back. After opening up to Cait about his struggles with his instincts, he'd found the strength to open up to Gwyn too. The girl was no mental health professional, but she was smart, liked him, and was a good listener. She'd shared some of her own struggles, of which there were plenty, along with the ways she combated them. For her, the secret sauce had been anxiolytics, but that didn't mean the mental exercises didn't help.
He felt the fear, recognized it, and consciously separated it from himself and, importantly, from Cait. Obviously, the partition wasn't perfect or instant, and Nick was glad he didn't have to deal with hiding facial expressions, but he was able to at least refocus. As he did, he realized Cait was still beaming, holding out a hand for a high five. He slapped it, but didn't know what for.
SORRY
WHAT?
"Nice, like the instinct to slap hands even if you aren't paying attention. Guess who found out they don't have to sleep anymore!"
LIRA?
YOU HAVE TO ADMIT
IT WOULD EXPLAIN
A LOT
"Dick," Cait snickered. "Although, I wish, it would make my nights less boring. I guess it's not like I can't sleep, and I don't know if I've got a limit…."
She shook herself.
"Sorry, rambling. Anyway! I bet Warhawk's gonna love this, I can take all the watches and work on my kung fu if we have to camp out!" She said, with a karate chop for emphasis.
Nick wasn't sure if he was able to look unimpressed, but he tried. Unimpressed with the karate, not the weaponized insomnia, that did actually kick ass.
SHE DOES HAVE
SUCH FAITH
IN YOU
Cait flipped him the bird and went to go and get changed.
What the fuck was that scent? That fear was… well I don't have bones, but bone deep. Whatever I am now was scared.
In fear, Nick found resolve. Summoning his comm, he texted Director Swan.
B: Hello Director Swan. I'm experiencing some mental difficulties I imagine are related to my transformation. Do you have a specialist on staff I can talk to when we return from this mission?
Swan's response was almost immediate, which Nick appreciated.
DS: Of course, Breastman. Thank you for reaching out, I know that is often difficult. We have two psychiatrists on staff, not including myself. However, neither are Altered. If you feel this is directly related to your Alteration, beyond completely understandable yet perhaps unavoidable body dysmorphia, it may be best if you talk directly to me.
B: You're a psychiatrist, Director Swan?
DS: Technically speaking I am the most qualified on staff, although I only practice occasionally these days, in cases like yours.
B: In that case, yes, please.
DS: Do you feel capable of undertaking this mission?
Nick had to think about that. The fact was he was worried about this in the greatest part due to the danger he might pose to others should the more brutal instincts take over. On the other hand, they would be entering a highly target-rich environment, and a little brutality might come in handy, with no shortage of worthwhile things to exercise it on.
B: Yes. No point in giving myself an anxiety disorder on top of this. I'd be worrying about one of the exactly two people I can call friends when I could be standing next to them.
DS: Commendable resolve. Not my place to say, but I am the boss, so I want you to know Miss Smith greatly appreciates the loyalty you show her. She seems the type to forget to say so, however. I promise you, the day after you return I will clear an hour to get the ball rolling on whatever is troubling you.
B: Thank you Director Swan, that means a great deal.
Man, it was weird talking to Director Swan after being surrounded by his team. The woman oozed earnest professionalism, and while his team had plenty of earnestness, they lacked on the professionalism angle.
Cait walked out of her room in costume, then turned towards Nick, sticking out her ass.
"Is this thing, like, all the way up my asshole?" She asked, trying to look over her shoulder at the offending garment. "It feels like, tight, you know?"
Nick was getting good at actually sounding like he was sighing. He was getting plenty of practice.
"Hey, pretty judgy for a guy wearing a BREAST MAN hat!"
THE HAT SAYS
WHATEVER
I WANT
ASS LAD
SEE?
Cait's costume was no more 'up her asshole' than usual, and they were quickly joined by the rest of Team Amaranthine, neither of whom had any such issues.
"I must admit," said Dawn, her cervine face split in a wide smile and her big eyes sparkling. "I am so excited to get back out in the wilds!"
"It's in the name right?" Kennedy smiled at the happy deer, some of her excitement infectious. Kennedy herself looked a little more jittery though.
Understandable, baseline she's just a pretty girl, none of the defenses the rest of us have. Hope having the most durable human shield on the planet does something to calm those nerves.
"Pretty pumped myself, if I'm being honest." Cait said, rolling out a shoulder. "I did not like letting this aluminum fuck get away after we lost two Guardians."
"Oh!" Kennedy interjected. "Actually, mom said it looks like Harambe will pull through! We might even end up with a cyber-gorilla, if he elects to use some of the Bunker's more esoteric recovery options."
"Fuckin' A! Makes a girl wish she could get hurt." Cait responded, flashing a cheeky grin.
GWYN GIVES YOU
ALL THE GOOD
TECH ANYWAY
PUNCH MASTER
"Says the guy with bandoliers of laser cock rings."
POINT
Dawn rounded them up, and the team kept joking around to let off the nervous energy on the walk over to the Ready Station. The AEGIS compound was just starting to get going, a steady trickle of folks on jogs or going to get a head start on the workday. They were about 15 minutes early, and looked like that was enough to beat Rodeo Squad.
Those guys sauntered in right at 7 am, also laughing and joking amongst themselves, but with a lot less of the signs of nerves Cait's team displayed. Clyde sidled up to Cait, eyebrows going wild under his cyber-cowboy hat.
"Sounded like Qi had a good time last night," he whispered out of the side of his mouth. Cait grinned back.
"Could say the same about you and Bri," she responded. "That a long term thing?"
He nodded, "Comin up on two years. Any ideas on what I should do for the anniversary?"
Cait barked out a laugh, "I know we've just met, but do I give off the vibe of someone who usually measures relationships in years?"
"No, I suppose you don't," chuckled Clyde. "C'mon, looks like ol' Sando is getting the briefing started."
Note to self, find out who Qi is. Might explain the smell, Nick thought to himself.
Gwyn had added the nano-projection tech to a ton of facilities around campus, so when Warhawk pulled up the map of the area Northeast of the Tortoiseshell, Nick could actually see it. "Okay y'all," she began, gesturing to the map. "This should look pretty familiar. Only difference from yesterday, is we don't have a set route. We're gonna be followin' BREAST MAN'S… nose?"
She looked at him for confirmation, but just got a shrug.
"Close enough. We'll follow the scent he picks up till we track this bastard down, or we lose it. At that point, we check in with settlements nearby and see iff'n we can't pick it back up." A smattering of yellow lights indicating homesteads appeared across the map. "I might be doin' that anyway, if the situation allows. Help us get an idea of how things are goin', or if any new beasts been popping up after the last wave."
The display shifted to their holographic avatars, which arranged themselves into the formations from yesterday.
"I don't see no reason to fix what ain't broke, and this set up worked fine yesterday." She continued, indicating the formation. "We'll proceed as such. As I said yesterday, we'll be traveling relatively light, combat gear only for everyone but Bullrush. Any questions?"
No one took the bait, and Warhawk grinned.
"Gear up and mount up then, rangers. Let's roll out!"
They loaded into SUVs and were halfway to the border of the 'Shell when the comms crackled into life, Bubb-Bill's voice coming through.
"Alright folks, I'm dedicated support for this missi-"
"And Metric!" Interrupted Lira's voice.
"Uh, yeah, and Met-"
"Nanosmith is also riding the comms!" Said Gwyn.
"What?" Bubb-Bill actually sounded surprised by that. "Nevermind. Not gonna argue with a tech-adept Meta-brain. Yeah, Bubb-Bill here with some extra help I guess. Nanosmith will have drone coverage on you guys every step of the way, so not sure why she wasn't in the booth in the first place."
"The booth doesn't have my workbench!"
"Right. Anyway, keep Metric in mind, she-"
"-s fucking awesome! I'll tell you more than you ever needed to know about anything. For instance, did you know Fingerguns actually wasn't circumcised befo-"
"Fucking hell Lira!" yelled Kennedy. As the only member of her, Lira, and Cait's burgeoning throuple capable of feeling shame, she felt some responsibility for keeping the others corralled.
"Bill," came Gwyn's voice, "there should be a new button on your switchboard. Just hit that to mute Lira's mic."
"How-, right. Nanomachines. Thank you, Nanosmith." He said, barely 7:30 am and already exhausted. "Keep the others' abilities in mind. Remember, even though we should have visual on you, call out what you see. Waves have made plenty of things camera's don't pick up. If things get too hairy, Samsara is on light duty and extract should be quick. Godspeed."
"Good lu-" Lira's voice cut off with a click, and a satisfied chuckle from Bubb-bill.
Nick's personal comm buzzed.
G: Good luck babe! >-<
G: Also, try saying something over comms
B: :/
SO WHO ALL HAS BEEN TAKEN DOWN BY IRONHIDE?
His text to speech sounded over comms, now with a foppish British accent.
G: loooolllllll
G: not as sexy as I hoped though ☹
"Who the fuck was that?" Asked Warhawk as Cait smirked at Nick.
BREAST MAN, BLAME NANOSMITH
"Are you actually British?" Asked Bullrush
ANCESTRALLY SPEAKING. BUT NO, NEVER LEFT IOWA. IRONHIDE?
"Oh right," Warhawk caught the conversational hook. "Countin' poor Flyboy, bastard got Bloodhound, Garbagedump, Farewell, and Tonic. Didn't have enough combat healers to begin with and fucker got two of 'em."
"Aw, shit." Cait said. "That's what happened to Garbagedump?"
WE HAD A GUARDIAN CALLED GARBAGEDUMP?
"Hell yeah brother!" Cait exclaimed, turning on him. "Not around long, but he was awesome. 'Science' explanation on him was that he shared a quantum space with a dump. Could summon and manipulate anything in it. Doesn't sound that impressive, till you get hit with an old steel fridge at mach 1."
"Yeah, but unfortunately it didn't make him any tougher," Warhawk said sadly. "Couldn't kill Ironhide and eventually he got through his guard, you've seen what this bastard does to skin and bone."
YEESH
The rest of the ride was more somber, after Nick's question reminded the expedition team what was at stake, and what they were dealing with. Even Lira didn't try to stir the pot, that or Bubb-Bill was just really riding that kill-switch. The team piled out of the SUV, right at the edge of the 'Shell.
"Okay folks," Warhawk said, voice hard. "We've drilled this, and you know the plan. BREAST MAN, you got a read on the scent?"
Nick breathed in, tasting the air on his tongue and skin. The scent of the fight had faded, and he doubted any of his more human teammates would even pick up more than a hint of blood. For him though, the area was still painted with history. He could make out the individual scents of the human combatants, and the overwhelming stench of the Coonbeast horde. Within that roiling bastion of scents, he could just make out one that was unique.
It was like the others, kind of, the same musky bestial odor. But it smelled clean at the same time, as though it wasn't the source of its own scent. A strong tint of iron, distinct from the stench of blood, colored it.
I HAVE IT
"Then let's move out!" Warhawk yelled, circling her hand above her head. "We don't know how long our betentacled huntin' dog'll be able to keep that scent, times a wastin'!"