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#Ignatius Voynik
crassussativum · 2 years
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@turianspeedjunkie
Ignatius Voynik pinched the bridge of his nose. Surprised there wasn’t a permanent indent from his fingers just for how often in the last several days he’d found himself making the gesture. The medbay personnel had reported Crassus missing from his bed shortly after midnight. Not long after that, one of the engineers had called to tell him his scout was sleeping inside his mech and that no attempt to rouse him had been successful. He’d gone to see the boy himself, finding him awake and dead-eyed, all but unresponsive but for a hollow please leave me alone. And what was he to do with that but give the boy the space he wanted? Voynik himself was exhausted, annoyed and bordering on angry. The smart thing to do was to leave Crassus exactly where he’d found him with a guard posted and get some damned sleep. He’d deal with it during the day cycle.  
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Sentinel: Chapter 7
Eros:
It smelled of smoke and rain inside the Temple. Scents associated with grief and sadness for most turians, for Eros they brought forth a feeling of spiritual safety and order. It was the smell of Palavenian pine when it burned on the pyres for the dead. The smoke guided the recently freed Spirit from the mortal coil to the less tangible afterlife and to the collective Spirit of Palaven where all things became whole. 
He loosened his grip on Ignatius’ hand as they passed together over the stone threshold and the smoke stung his eyes. But inside the Temple the weight of his grief eased, the burden lifted by the Spirits that always lingered here. Past Valluvian priests like himself, those that had witnessed Spirits or simply felt them more strongly than the average turian, they stayed within the Temple to help the transition of new Spirits and to bring what comfort they could to the living. Eros had always felt weightless here, like he was floating, like he was a Spirit himself. It was foolish, Eros knew, but it made him smile.
Ignatius smiled softly down at him. His mate wasn’t as religious a man as he was but he understood the soul’s call for it and for that Eros was grateful. He was grateful the Spirits had led Ignatius to him. If the Blackwatch hadn’t arrived on that colony when they had, Eros was certain he would have perished with the rest of his unit. He had been dying after an incendiary round had pierced his hardsuit. After it had burned through all the man-made material and begun to burn through him, Eros had begged the Spirits for any mercy from the agony. Even death if it meant the pain would stop. They had sent him a giant in matte black armor.
That Ignatius had stayed for more than just his rescue had been surprising but throughout his recovery, Eros had realized the Spirits had brought him into Ignatius’ life as much as the other way around. Blackwatch assignments had turned him world weary and cynical and finding Eros had restored his purpose to something more than just that of a skilled combatant. Support, companionship and then love had followed close behind.
Eros gave his hand a squeeze and returned that warm smile. Together they found Terronos’ alter and knelt before it. Eros folded his dark blue robes beneath himself and into his lap, then he lowered his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t need the image projected on the wall to see the face of his fallen friend, it was still clear in his mind’s eye. Square features and green star-burst markings that framed sharp golden eyes above a slow smile that had begun to droop on one side as the corpalis syndrome had arrived with its first signs... Shaking hands had followed and when Terronos had been unable to hold things without noticeable difficulty, they had known something was wrong. Loss of dexterity wasn’t uncommon with advancing age, nor were fading memories, but the inability to form new memories, to lose entire conversations the moment they left the mouth...
Eros didn’t want to remember Terronos that way and he struggled not to but the memory was persistent. He wished he could forget those final weeks of losing his friend piece by piece as corpalis had begun to ravage him. The disease had acted much the same as its chosen victims, it had been an overwhelming force of warfare on the body and mind, unstoppable and without mercy. As much as it hurt, Eros knew Terronos had made the correct choice to join the Spirits when he had, before he had lost even the ability to blink.
Ignatius squeezed his hand again tightly, their fingers laced together. Eros heard him clear his throat and swallow. His voice was quiet and cracked at the edges as he spoke to the Spirit of the former Primarch. It was a while before Eros found his own voice beneath the lump of emotion and joined him. 
The Primarch:
The twins were sleeping as they always did, snuggled together with tangled limbs and foreplates just barely touching. Vesimir was positive they had spent their time in the womb much the same way, sharing space and breath and Spirit. It brought him endless comfort to know they would always have each other, and Cato, once he was gone. Cicero, he knew would struggle to fit in with his inability to vocalize in an audible range heard by species other than turians, but Marcian would help him. Together they would find a way to adapt as he had taught them to. 
Vesimir pressed a kiss to each little fringe and tucked the blanket around them both. Their night-light was on and projecting ocean waves on the ceiling. If he thought hard enough he could almost hear them crashing against the shores. He yearned for the ocean as he had for few things in his life and no facsimile of sound or image compared but he was pleased the little toy gave the ocean back to his boys. 
Vesimir re-activated the security console as he left their room, trusting it to alert him and the Sentinels should the door be opened before the morning. He still wasn’t used to having their room so far away from his own but Cicero and Marcian had made a big to-do out of getting to pick their own room and he only wanted to make them happy. Where their room on Parthia had faced the ocean and the rising sun of the south, the room here faced the main garden and the northern setting sun. It was an old superstition, but Vesimir would have been more comfortable had they chosen a southern facing room as he had. 
Cato had chosen an eastern facing room with large windows and a balcony for better natural lighting. For his art, Vesimir knew, so he could see color as it was meant to be seen. He smiled for himself, some day he fully expected Cato to ask for ocular implants to see every spectrum of color. He would allow it, of course. There was serenity in art and Cato had as turbulent a nature as Parthia’s seas.
His mother would be proud of him. She had been wild too, a wandering Spirit full of wonder and joy at every new experience whatever it might be. Vesimir ached at her memory. The twins couldn’t remember her and in truth, they hadn’t even gotten the chance to meet her, it had all happened so fast. There were moments, shameful moments, when Vesimir envied them that. More often, he felt a crushing sorrow for what they had lost, what he and Cato had lost. He still remembered the struggle of explaining to Cato the arrival home of the two infants without their mother. So overcome to the point of numbness with grief that he had done nothing but stand there as his first son had collapsed into tears. Vesimir thanked the Spirits daily for the family next door -Philia and her parents- that had supported them through Marcilinaes’ death.
He wondered if she and Cato had made up yet, not seeing her when they’d boarded the shuttle to leave Parthia had been a shock and his son hadn’t mentioned her since. Vesimir sighed to himself and ran a hand back over his long fringe. He shouldn’t worry, children often had spats that seemed big in the moment and were later proven quite small. The two would make up and before long Cato would be asking for Philia to visit Palaven.
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 27: Recover
Sentinel: Cipritine, Palaven
The Primarch returned carrying Cicero in his arms, the boy’s face streaked with tears and Parthian paint, one of his little arms in a cast. Marcian clung to his father’s leg, mandibles wobbling uncontrollably. Ignatius was behind them, armored, expression closed. Crassus felt a spreading tightness in his chest.
“Where’s Mavic?” He demanded.
Ignatius sharply gestured him silent. The Primarch’s mandibles shifted. Crassus found himself lightheaded. Mavic had taken the twins for a day trip into town to see the Temple, to walk around, just to get the boys out of the house for a little while. It was perfectly safe. Only within an hour of their leaving the Estate, Crassus had gotten a panicked call. An attack in the Capitol had forced Mavic to hide with the boys, he wasn’t a combatant, and while he was of course armed he didn’t know what to do. Crassus had found Ignatius then and the Primarch had sent a force into the Capitol. They had found the twins hiding in a hard to reach outcropping of trees behind the Temple, protected by an old omnitool giving off a powerful kinetic barrier.
“Primarch!” Crassus’ voice broke without the secondary vocals under his words.
Ignatius grabbed his arm as the Primarch took his children inside and pulled him out of the way. Crassus could feel himself growling and he had to fight not to jerk his arm away. Ignatius held his stare. “Mavic took down the gunmen.” He said.
Crassus couldn’t imagine. Mavic was a fighter in the sense that he attended bootcamp like every turian. He knew how to handle a firearm, but he’d spent his service in a garage, too afraid to be in the field. He wasn’t... he didn’t know what to do in combat situations, he hadn’t trained for it. A pit opened in Crassus’ stomach. Worry, fear...  “Is he alive?”
Ignatius nodded once sharply. “He’s at the hospital now. Under guard. He left his omnitool with the children to protect them and then drew the gunmen away.”
Stupid, foolish, he’d have done the same, but then, Crassus knew what he was doing. “How badly was he hurt?”
The other Sentinel’s mandibles flicked. “Not too badly. He lost more than a little blood. The hospital is going to keep him overnight but they’re content to release him tomorrow.”
Crassus nodded numbly. Mavic was okay. He’d protected the children. He was hurt but he’d recover. For a moment there, Crassus had been terrified. “How... how did he take down the gunmen?” Mavic only carried a standard sidearm, twelve shots in total and Crassus knew he wasn’t the best shot.
“With a knife.” Ignatius snorted. “He’d have made a good infiltrator. Small enough they thought he was another kid, tried to use him as a hostage, he let one get close and then pulled the knife from his sleeve, jammed it up through the first gunman’s jaw right as Sec showed up to get things under control. We have it all on footage.”
Crassus didn’t want to see it. He could imagine it, he’d killed men that way before. “Do... do you think the hospital would let me see him?”
Ignatius jerked his head to the still open door. “Go.”
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 2: Frayed
Kneeling uncomfortably on gravel, Crassus said his name again to no reaction. Mavic simply stared vacantly ahead with his mandibles hanging loose along the line of his jaw. Crassus had seen the behavior a few times in the handful of months they’d been partners but they had been episodes of sleep walking and waking nightmares. Never had Mavic done this in the field and he couldn’t figure out what had caused it.
“Mavic.” Crassus didn’t dare touch him, never entirely sure how the smaller turian would react, and his hands twitched uselessly. His instinct was to reach out, to put his hands on Mavic’s shoulders and shake him back to awareness but he still held his gun and his finger rested along the trigger. Crassus flexed his single mandible and opened a comm channel to the Commander.
“Sir.” He wasn’t certain what he should say about the situation and he was even less sure about what he should do. Mavic wasn’t a defenseless civilian he could just haul to safety, he was a skilled combatant same as Crassus was and he had a big thing about being touched. He was dangerous and in the right moments, he was deadly.
“I’m listening, Sativum.”
“Virim isn’t responding.”
“Do you have eyes on him?”
“He’s sitting on the ground here in front of me.” Crassus answered.
The Commander was silent for a long moment. “Mission status?”
“Incomplete, Sir.”
“Shit.” Commander Voynik sighed. “I’ll send another team. Get Virim out of the area however you need to. The medics will be waiting for him.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He cut communication and stared at Mavic as the smaller turian stared through him. However he got Mavic out of here, he’d have to take his gun away first. Crassus rubbed a hand over his fringe and shifted his weight. The only way to safely take the gun away was quickly and he could envision how that might go.
“Remember I’m your friend, alright?” He muttered and struck, shoved Mavic to the ground with one hand and his longer reach while grabbing the gun with the other. 
It got the predicable reaction. Mavic came back to himself with a snarl, his teeth bared and his omniblade-
“Mavic!”
Crassus could feel the heat of the omniblade centimetres from his throat and Mavic’s weight on his chest. He had no idea how he’d been able to get the upper hand so quickly when he’d been all but catatonic sitting flat on his ass seconds before.
“Mavic!” He showed the smaller turian his empty hands, the gun tossed away from them in the mad scramble and he’d never drawn his own. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax, please.”
He growled but pulled the omniblade away. “What the fuck Crassus.”
“By the Spirits.” Crassus let himself flop back on the ground with an expulsion of air. “You scared me, alright?” 
“Scared you? You scared me, you bastard.” Mavic climbed off him, the omniblade fading away as he paced a tight circle around his prone form. “The fuck you thinkin’ jumpin’ me like that? I coulda taken your head clean off.”
But he hadn’t, he’d stopped in the last crucial second and Crassus was beyond thankful for that. He pushed himself up to sitting, leaned back on his hands. “You went all...” He didn’t know how to explain when he didn’t know what had caused the episode or even what it was. “Distant. You were just sitting there staring off into space and you didn’t respond to me at all. I thought... I don’t know what I thought. I called the Commander and he said bring you back.”
“You called the Commander?” Mavic hissed. “Fuck, Crassus.”
“I didn’t know what else to do!” He scoffed back at him, rising to his feet. “By the Spirits, Mavic. It was like when I found you wandering the compound. You were completely gone and I have no idea why.”
“Fuck.” He hissed again, running both hands over his fringe repeatedly. “Fuck I... I dunno what happened either.”
“Clearly.” Crassus retrieved their guns and faltered on giving Mavic’s back. He didn’t think that was a good idea. “The Commander ordered us both back. He’s got the medics waiting for you and another team coming in.”
Mavic gaped at him. “The medics? Nah, fuck nah.”
“Yes.” He stared back. “What would you have had me do, Mavic? If you had found me like that, what would you have done?”
“Slapped some damn sense into you and dragged you to your feet.”
Crassus flared his mandible. “You would have taken my head off if I had done that to you.”
“I...” Mavic’s mandibles fluttered and he looked away. “...okay probably.”
“No probably about it. Mavic,” He heaved a sigh. “I know what you’ve been through, alright, and not that long ago. I don’t think reactions like that are abnormal but they are dangerous when my whole job is to keep you covered in the field. I can’t have you resisting me when it puts us both in danger.”
“I know.”
“Look at me.”
Mavic lifted his head and Spirits, his completely open expression had Crassus swallowing hard. What had happened to him in the Terminus lay unspoken between them, all the damage it had caused that was starting to show itself in force. Crassus felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach for him, but again, he didn’t dare.
“I’ll give you a signal.” He said and pointedly showed Mavic his opened hands, watched his eyes zero in on them. “Whatever you need in those moments, I’m receptive to. If you need me to listen, I will. If you just need me to be there, I will be. Whatever helps you, alright?”
“Why?” His voice wavered and cracked with suspicion and something else buried in the tones.
“Spirits Mavic, you’re both my partner and my friend.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 3: Lush
Palavenian pine filled Ignatius’ lungs with the subtle scent of approaching rain at every breath. The trees surrounded the courtyard, their trunks bordered by spindly ferns and reaching flowers. The smell of all of it together was almost sweet and nearly overwhelming when he was used to the smells of ships and barracks. Ignatius checked the time on his omnitool. He was far too early.
Left with nothing to do but wait, he folded himself onto a bench in the shadow of one of the larger trees. Crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands together over the knee. Birds chirped above his head and hopped along from branch to branch as they collected twigs and things for their nests. He shifted to get comfortable. Waiting without distraction was not his strong suit. 
Ignatius wished he knew more about plants. Maybe then the lush collection of the restaurant’s courtyard would be more impressive. As it was, he only registered trees and bushes and flowers as just that. Although he couldn’t help but think all the greenery made for decent cover. Ignatius felt naked without his armor and bared to the bone in casual clothing. Of course his uniform hadn’t been appropriate for a date. Spirits, this was foolish. He should just-
Eros smiled nervously at him from the courtyard entrance, his lilac painted mandibles fluttering. Ignatius rose to greet him and felt his mandibles doing the same. That was foolish too. He had stormed too many outposts to count, had marched wounded across active battlefields with nothing more than his armor and a gun low on ammunition. He had space walked without a tether. None of it had made his heart race the same way as Eros’ hand sliding into his. Ignatius could handle a date.
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 1: Alarm
A klaxon screeched through the air. Birds and other wildlife scattered in all directions away from the noise. Several clicks away, Crassus grimaced, his single mandible brushing the stock of his rifle where it rested against his face. 
“Son of a varren,” Ignatius muttered beside him. “By all the Spirits. In and out, I told him. No witnesses. No alarms.”
“I don’t know what you expected,” He muttered in return, watching through the scope. Lights were flashing around the perimeter of the outpost, people were running here and there.
“I expect him to follow a direct order.”
Crassus snorted. “Settle for a job done.”
The lead agent huffed but let the matter drop. “Do you see him?”
“No,” He shifted the scope by degrees. Already there were a number of fallen bodies. He couldn’t see how they’d been killed, not at this distance, but he could see that they were certainly dead. “He’s not leaving witnesses.”
“How many dead?”
Crassus counted. “Four at ground level. Three above.” Obviously he had no way of knowing how many inside had been taken care of.
Ignatius muttered again. “He always finishes a job?”
Through the scope, Crassus spotted an armored turian on the roof. After a moment, he lifted one hand in the all clear. “He does. And he has. Let’s go see what he’s let us to do.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 31: Overwhelm
Sentinel: Estate of the Primarch, Cipritine, Palaven
It didn’t truly sink in until he was inside the Estate, until Ignatius had led him all around the grounds and through halls and rooms, until he had introduced him one by one to the staff. He was Primarch of the turian people. Expected to lead and guide and make the final decisions of great and terrible things in equal measure. It didn’t truly sink in until Vesimir sat behind the centuries old desk of carved stone with the exceptionally tall Ignatius standing at rest across from him.
For a long moment, Vesimir felt as though he were back in basic meeting the state of his CO for the very first time. Young, inexperienced and clueless. It was easy to overlook that he had gotten here through decades of merit and learned experience, through trial and error, through victory and failure. It was easily to allow himself to feel overwhelmed with Ignatius’ all too knowing eyes on him.
“Were you here when Primarch Terronos began his term?” Vesimir asked.
“No Sir.” Ignatius shook his head. “I came after his head of security retired.”
“I see.” He leaned back in the surprisingly comfortable chair, his mandibles flickering into a nervous smile. “I was hoping for insight on how to begin.”
The former Blackwatch agent flicked him a similar smile. 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 23: Value
Cipritine, Palaven
It was just a little shiny stone barely as big as Ignatius’ palm. Pale blue with streaks  of silver and so light he’d thought it hollow the first time he’d held it. Back when it had been passed down to him. His father hadn’t been certain what planet it had come from, it had been passed down so many times. From father to son, mother to daughter and every variation in between. It was the only priceless thing their family owned and like every family, it was meant to be given away again and again. Ignatius rubbed the smooth surface with his thumb. His family had been spacers for generations, it probably hadn’t even been found on a planet and probably not even on an asteroid. It had probably originated at some market stall, traded for one good or another, a little trinket that had caught someone’s eye and then been all they had to offer when the time came. 
Ignatius rubbed his thumb over it again. It had been rubbed perfectly smooth. He wondered how many people had sat with excited indecision over the years with the little stone in their palm. Eros would appreciate its history, its meaning... Ignatius shouldn’t worry he wouldn’t see its value. Even if it wasn’t quite the proper mating gift, it wasn’t a gemstone, it was just an average shiny stone worried smooth by countless hands. By his hands as he wondered over and over if he shouldn’t just buy a gemstone that represented them, if he shouldn’t just start them with something new. But that was even less proper, less traditional and it rubbed him the wrong way.
Eros would like this stone and he’d say yes and someday, Ignatius hoped, they would pass it on to their children. 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 19: Cut
Eros sat stiffly on the edge of the gurney, head angled to watch even as he didn’t want to. The nurse cut away the wrappings meticulously, the little scissors tugging just so. He flinched with every snip, unsure what it was going to look like, what he was going to look like. He remembered how it had felt, the initial heat, the burning, the smell... Eros was certain he didn’t want to see the end result when it was on his own body. 
He glanced at Ignatius for support, the Blackwatch Commander stood with his arms crossed and his mandibles drawn in just by the foot of the gurney. Eros wanted him closer, wanted to hold his hand and the impulse felt foolish when they barely knew each other. He didn’t know why Ignatius had stayed for this. Surely he didn’t feel responsible for what had happened?
Another cut and tug of the wrapping and Eros flinched again, squeezing his eyes shut as the nurse pulled the remains away from his torso. He heard Ignatius hiss quietly and he let out his own sound. It must look bad. Was he even all healed? He still couldn’t look. He hardly heard the care instructions the nurse gave him before she left. The door shut gently but it was loud to Eros’ ears. He flinched again, breathed deeply from his supplemental oxygen machine. His chest was tight. 
When Eros dared to open his eyes some untold minutes later, Ignatius was crouched in front of him but so large he was still at almost eye-level. Eros felt his hands twitch, his mandibles too. Ignatius held his stare.
“You’ll be alright.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 13: Redeem
The Blackwatch Years
Ignatius was lucky he hadn’t been killed when he’d stomped through the encampment with his weapon drawn. He’d forgotten all protocol and his own safety as he’d met the slavers in the open. Foolish, careless and dangerous to more than just himself, Ignatius knew that. But he’d lost it when he’d seen the cages out in the open with no attempt to hide them or their contents. People, adults and children of several species. Mostly children. All half way to starved and emaciated and worse.
He dropped the first slaver within fifty feet of the cages. At forty-five his unit crested the hill and their gunfire joined his. At thirty feet from the cages, the slavers did the unthinkable and shifted fire to the captives. The screams and gunfire deafened him. Ignatius’ gun ran empty. Shots pinged off his kinetic barrier and he was forced to fall back as his unit moved forward. In the end, only the Blackwatch remained. 
Ignatius personally opened the cages and carried the bodies out one by one away from the encampment to an open field. His unit helped to bury the humans and burn the turians. The dirt covered them and the smoke forced them to retreat to a safe distance. The slavers they left where they had fallen, it was more than they deserved. Ignatius scrubbed his hands clean in a nearby stream, his mandibles so tight to his jaw that they quaked. He wasn’t the only one. 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 9: Magnetic
Eros smiled at the sound of the heavy stride that entered the enclosed courtyard behind him. He’d left the hospital a week ago and still Ignatius visited him daily. “Commander, you keep coming to see me, I might begin to think you feel personally responsible for my continued recovery.”
Ignatius huffed but there was humor in the under current of his tone. “I’m on leave.”
“Wouldn’t you rather spend your free time with your unit?”
He shrugged. “Not really. They’re partiers on leave. Comes with being young, I guess.”
“You aren’t old.” Eros flicked him a soft smile.
“I’m older than they are.” The Commander chuckled and sat next to him on the cushioned bench. “How are you doing today?”
“I’m well,” Eros hummed. “It’s getting easier to breathe without relying on my little oxygen tank.” He patted the small machine next to him somewhat fondly like stroking the head of a pet. “How are you, Ignatius?”
He shrugged again. “Leave doesn’t agree with me.”
“Has it been a long one?”
“It’s administrative.”
“Oh,” Eros fluttered his mandibles.
“I’m not in trouble or anything like that.” Ignatius said tightly. “My commanders thought I needed some time to level out again.”
Eros looked at him expectantly. He’d gotten to know Ignatius during his recovery and the daily visits, the man always seemed steadfast and calm. But he knew how it was if a higher-up ordered you to take a break and he couldn’t imagine all the things the Blackwatch must deal with.
Ignatius laced his hands together in his lap and stretched his long legs out. “It’s been a long time coming if you ask the base therapist.” He muttered.
“I’d rather ask you.” He said quietly, glancing over at him.
The Commander eyed his sideways with irises the same color and intensity as his Palavenian markings. “She would tell you I’m feeling the weight of horrible assignments or that I find my command position burdensome.”
“Ignatius.” Eros pressed gently. He would name the commander a friend but he didn’t know if the feeling was mutual, after everything, he hoped it was. There were already things Eros had told him that he’d never told anyone.
He sighed and leaned his head back on the bench. “What burdens me is choosing the mission over the welfare of my men and knowing that it didn’t used to bother me. I used to be able to achieve victory at any cost, but the longer I do this, the more I think about just what that cost could be. Children without one parent or both. Or my leaving some family’s only child behind because the intel was more important. I think about fallen mates and the lost possibility of children with the person they loved. And that’s just on the good days. There’s so much that gets under my plates that didn’t used to. I’m so... tired of it, Eros. I find myself missing when I didn’t think about the cost of victory and then I feel guilty and it eats at me.” 
Eros watched him as he spoke, as he looked into the distance like he could see for miles, but he knew the commander was looking inward. “You have a good Spirit, Ignatius.” He said quietly. “But it is weighted down by all you’ve had to do, good and bad.”
“I know.” He sighed again. “I’ve... I’ve been offered a position. I think I’m going to take it when my leave is over.”
“What is it?”
Ignatius glanced at him again and his mandibles flickered. “Head of security for Primarch Terronos.”
“That... that’s a very prestigious position. Honorable.” He’d likely never see Ignatius again.
“Mmm,” The Commander hummed. “I hear you’re being relieved of duty.”
“I am.” Eros said. All his friends had died in the ambush, his unit. He couldn’t yet breathe on his own without the help of the little machine. His recovery was taking too long and that was just the physical. To the Hierarchy, he was currently useless as an asset. He felt useless.
“I was thinking you could do with some real sun and warmth while you heal. I know the snow and cold don’t bother you, but a change of scenery would be good for you.”
He would be left alone to grieve but for therapists and doctors when Ignatius left. He didn’t know how he’d become so attached to the Commander over so short a time. Eros looked forward to his visits, to his company, to the sound of his voice. It couldn’t be just because the man had saved him, it felt like more than that.
“Eros? Did... did you hear me?”
“I-” He blinked up at the man. “-forgive me, I was light-headed for a moment.”
Ignatius’ mandibles fluttered and he brushed their hands together. “I was hoping you would come to Palaven with me. It’s up to you, but... but I’d like if you would.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 30: Transport
The Blackwatch Commander was Palavenian, his cobalt markings painted boldly and precisely across his mandibles and beneath his equally blue eyes. He was just as stiff and proper as every homeworld turian Eros had ever met, pacing back and forth along the dry dock as he studied the THS Tarsos with a critical eye. Eros tried not to feel defensive or overprotective, but she was his pride and joy. The only thing he owned next to the clothes on his back and he’d poured his whole Spirit into making her the best she could be. And he still hadn’t gotten a straight answer as to why the Commander wanted transport via a cargo shuttle when he could have his pick of any Hierarchy vessel. 
“She doesn’t look like much.” The Commanded finally faced him to say.
Eros bristled, his mandibles flaring for a second before he got control of them. “Cosmetically, no.” He said through his teeth. “She carries a brand new drive-core, excellent shielding and as top of the line sensors as I could legally get my hands on. Taros runs as smoothly as water and she’s just as fast and reliable as one of your Blackwatch ships. Which you are more than welcome to take instead.” 
The Commander shifted to stand with his hands on his hips and his mandibles slanted into a smirk after his little outburst. It was almost smug and it made Eros want to punch him. Not that he would ever dare, the Commander was built for warfare and he was skinny as they came.
 “Legally, huh?”
Eros glanced quickly at the angular hull of his ship before he could stop himself and then back to glare at the Commander, appalled he would even suggest such a thing. “Yes, legally. Every run I do is one hundred percent legal and I don’t appreciate the implication otherwise, Commander.” 
He was still smirking and the superiority of it rubbed Eros completely the wrong way. There was a reason he’d never continued on with his military career after basic, several beside the obvious that he had no stomach for combat, authority figures tended to piss him off without trying. Particularly when they insulted his ship as the Commander was doing now. Eros clenched his fist.
“Very well.” The Commander inclined his head after a moment of looking over Tarsos again. “My men will be ready to leave within the hour, I’ll of course reimburse your for the time and effort of our safe transport. Name your price.”
Eros was still baffled at the whole arrangement but... naming his own price? He couldn’t pass that up and it would only be for a day, two at most. Still, he high-balled it. The Commander grimaced at the number but transferred the credits all the same. Eros rolled his shoulders loose and gave a smug smile of his own. Once aboard the THS Tarsos, Commander Voynik would have to listen to him. He wondered if the uptight Palavenian had thought of that. 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 25: Gigantic
There were nineteen children in the medbay. Of the four infants, one had had complete control of Ignatius’ attention since the moment three tiny and soft talons had grasped sporadically around his own. Babies liked to grasp at things and one of the doctors had told him it was one of the first instincts they had. Still, Ignatius hadn’t expected the grip to be so strong. He could wiggle his finger free if he wanted to but he didn’t. There was something oddly soothing about the infant holding onto him and staring up into his eyes steadily. And the infant had the same fresh snowfall colored eyes that his mate did. Ignatius found himself unable to look away, lost in that unwavering stare and dreams of the life that could have been. Could still be with a few properly signed documents...
Eros answered after a few rings, smiling as always. “Hi there.”
“Hey,” Ignatius said in return. “We’re nearing Palaven and should be there in a few days.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I’ll be taking a leave when we dock, it’s not scheduled but...”
Eros peered at him, concern clear in the way his mandibles fluttered. “Were you hurt this time?”
“No,” Ignatius shook his head. “We intercepted a distress beacon. The Hastatim was cleaning out a colony, there were children and-”
“By the Spirits.”
“They’re fine. All safe.” Ignatius hastened to reassure him, wishing he’d chosen his words better. He saw the relief in Eros’ eyes. “There’s an infant here, maybe four months old. He hasn’t let my finger go.”
Eros smiled again. “What’s his name?”
“We don’t know and either the other children we found didn’t know it either or they won’t tell us.” Which wasn’t unheard of, in their own way, they were trying to protect each other. “I’ve been sitting here with him for hours now and I was thinking he looks like a Tiberius to me.”
“A fine name for a boy.” Eros said and Ignatius could see that he hadn’t quite caught on. He smiled for himself.
“You know, he’s got a good strong grip and the cutest mandibles.”
“May I see him?”
Ignatius shifted his omnitool to face the infant and heard his mate make all the expected coos and trills that he’d hoped for. Tiberius made a few gurgles and trills of his own and for the first time in hours, he let go of his finger to grab at the omnitool. Eros cooed to him again.
“I was also thinking,” He said as he moved to be in view. “Voynik would be a good family name for him.”
Eros’ eyes flashed toward him. “Are you serious?”
“I am.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 20: Scorched
Ignatius felt bile rise to the back of his throat amidst the sickly sweet stench of burned bodies. He thinned his mandibles at the charred remains of the few still standing buildings. Even the grass was blackened and crisp under his boots. Spirits-damned Hastatim, he hated working with them. They were all a special kind of crazy, all suffering from a certain kind of Spirits-sickness to be so thorough in their scorched earth procedures. They were also a necessary evil. Whenever an upstart colony reared its ugly head to renounce the Hierarchy, a Hastatim unit would arrive in the middle of the night and issue an ultimatum. Full surrender or total annihilation. It still surprised Ignatius how often a colony chose not to surrender. 
“How many were taken to the safe camps?” He asked Sativum. The man wore as distasteful an expression as he was sure was on his own face.
“Nineteen individuals.” He reported. “All children.”
“Thanks the Spirits for small mercies.” Ignatius muttered. “What’s the age range?”
“There are four infants and two toddlers. Seven are between the ages of three and ten. The rest are between ten and twelve.”
All so young, all orphaned because their families wouldn’t lay down their weapons and admit defeat... Ignatius felt a weight building on his Spirit. “Are any of them related to each other?”
“No, Sir.” Sativum said quietly.
Perhaps that was for the best. Ignatius rubbed at his eyes. “Call down another shuttle.” He instructed. “I want our medics and the Spirit-Carer on it. We’ll take the children with us to Palaven.”
“Yes, sir.” 
He observed the settlement in front of them, for just a moment grateful their ship had been passing through the system as he again took not of all the smoke and char. The Hastatim unit still removing bodies from the rubble. His stomach churned.
“You’ll be their escort off world, Crassus.” He grasped the giant’s shoulder pointedly. “The children don’t need to see this.”
Sativum nodded his understanding. “Of course not, Sir.” 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 12: Limbo
The new cybernetic implants hadn’t quite synced yet. Ignatius watched himself blink with a time delay, the left eyes just a few milliseconds behind the right. And occasionally, the ocular input fed in the visuals up-side-down. It was painfully disorienting. He’d walked into a number of things when his vision suddenly flipped. It would be awhile before he could walk around outside his own home safely, let alone return to the field when he had to stop every half hour or so and keep his eyes closed while he waited for the implants to correct themselves again.
He didn’t know what he’d do without his mate. Always so attentive that the softest sigh of annoyance brought Eros within touching distance. Provided him a hand to grab and lead him to somewhere to sit while he waited. Ignatius felt like he was doing a lot of waiting. At first waiting for approval for the implants, then waiting for the surgery, waiting for weeks just to open his eyes again. And now, waiting for his sight to return to normal with a few extra perks. When all was said and done, Ignatius would be able to see further than ever before, and in all the spectrums he hadn’t naturally been able to. It would be worth it once the healing was done. 
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crassussativum · 3 years
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Day 11: Prickly
Ignatius rubbed at his foreplate as if to ease away the frown there. Across from him, Agent Sativum held his single mandible stiffly against his jaw. The giant Invictian had his own copy of the dossier but of course his version contained all the blacked out sections that Ignatius’ own revealed.
“Agent Virim spent four months running a classified op in the Terminus.” He filled in the recent blanks as much as he could for the other agent. “For the last three, he’s been recovering from the injuries he suffered during the op but the docs have cleared him and he’s being reassigned to my command effective immediately.”
Crassus inclined his head but said nothing. Ignatius was used to that. His second was a man of few words.
“Obviously I plan to partner him with you.” He continued. “Agent Virim has a reputation for flying off the handle but by all accounts he can back up the attitude that comes out of his mouth. Which I’m given to understand is a lot of it, but I know that shit doesn’t phase you, Crassus. You’re currently my most steadfast agent, I don’t think he’ll get under your plates, and I believe you’ll make an unstoppable team once he acclimatizes to activity again.”
Again, Crassus said nothing, just looked at him with that impassive stare.
“I’ll of course run a few assignments with you both just to see how inline I need to keep him. He has a tendency to go off on his own when he gets frustrated with the process.”
“I’ve worked with him before.” Crassus said then.
Ignatius blinked in surprise. Known associates had been lacking -or just dead- in the dossier and here his agent had let him go on and on before dropping that bomb on him. “When?”
“After basic. He and I both served aboard the Havincaw.”
He scanned throat the datapad again. “Virim only served aboard that ship for a year.”
“Eleven months.” Crassus corrected dully. “Spec ops conscripted him after that mess on Pheiros.”
Ignatius wasn’t familiar with whatever mess on Pherios Crassus was talking about but at the moment it wasn’t important. “Did you work closely with him?”
The Invictian shook his head once. “I just saw him around. Knew the family name. He and I ran one op together with a number of others but we had no contact. I was the field medic at the time. He was our engineer. Always thought he’d gone into the Corps. Spec ops didn’t seem like him, but as I said, I didn’t know him more than in passing.”
Ignatius sat back in his chair and crossed his hands in his lap. “Your impression of him then?”
“Unfavorable.” Crassus said at length. “As I’m sure his was of me. But we were young, time changes people.”
He glanced at the open dossier, his copy, and the section that detailed what Virim had suffered in the Terminus and seemed to have brushed off. Few people went through that kind of ordeal unscathed even if the damage took years to really show itself. He was certain Crassus’ unwavering disposition would be beneficial for the still recovering agent. 
“He’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He said and passed Crassus the uncensored dossier. Against regulation, sure, but Agent Virim was a valuable asset, he needed every edge in keeping him from going off the deep end. “Familiarize yourself. You’ll be responsible for him.”
Crassus took the datapad after a long pause. “Understood, Sir.”
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