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The cafeteria felt different to him.

Iago sat alone, in a corner booth, watching the other volunteers mingle and talk to each other.  They were laughing, telling stories, one was clearly mimicking the act of carrying someone, and Iago knew exactly what training exercise it was related to.

And he knew most of these people; not the freshest volunteers, but anyone who’d had much time in Response had spent time under him.

Yet now they all were strangers.

They left him alone, which was good.  Probably the newer initiates were hesitant to talk to him, and the officers . . . well, they probably pitied him or felt too awkward to talk to him since he had fallen so low.

And he had.  He could recognize it; he should have realized it sooner, but he was not going to regain his old position.  At least, he’d come to feel that he was never going to be fit for it.  What had happened to him had changed him, permanently.

Pirra was doing well in the role, he thought.  From his vantage, at least, it seemed that way.  He’d seen far worse transitions under far better circumstances.

Meanwhile, he had broken.  Cracked apart, and even though he’d pulled his disparate pieces back together again – it wasn’t the same.  He wasn’t the same.

He’d made the mistake of seeing something that he wasn’t meant to see.

Just a moment of weakness, looking too deeply.  Just as he wasn’t supposed to look too deeply now.  Because whatever had made him look too long at that data, at those unnatural shapes and geometries out in the Terris system, was making him do it again.

He couldn’t unsee any of it.  Not those hideous, unnatural thoughts, nor his insights into the world he’d known his whole life.

He sipped his drink.  It took all his composure to look normal, to eat his food without gagging.

His system informed him of a new message.  It was Alexander again, asking to talk to him.  For the last while he’d been messaging asking how training had been going, how he felt, all kinds of questions.

Alexander . . .

He felt a pang of regret.  They’d been friends since they were young men and Alexander had first left his home station, and Iago had always looked out for him.  But he couldn’t talk to him now.

Even if Alexander had seen that truth, that glimpse of actual reality, he’d not understand it.  He was too naive, too pure . . . a good person.

He found that his hand was shaking.

It was getting hard again to keep up the facade, to act normal.  He’d been doing it all day, and by god it had been tiring.  Over these last few days he’d been trying to let it all go.  Just go back to how he’d been before.

He could work back up to his old position.  He just had to get used to it again.  He could gain back the respect he could see that he’d lost in everyone’s eyes.  At first he’d thought it was for the weakness of his breakdown, but no.

That was normal.  The mistake, the weakness that no one could forgive, had been that he’d looked in the first place.

Perhaps on some level, everyone knew the truth, but they did not want to think about it, to actually understand and accept it.  His mere presence was a constant reminder.

God it was hard.  It was only him and Elliot, and he couldn’t let his son know just how bad things were.  They were stuck here until after this current madness was over.

Someone walked by his table, smiling, and he forced his own smile with herculean effort.

If only there was someone to talk to about this.  To probe for a like mindedness.  Someone equally out of place-

Kessissiin walked in, carrying a tray and looking around.  He seemed to be searching for someone, but evidently didn’t see them.  His crest fell in a way that was too subtle for most humans to catch, but Iago had been around Pirra enough to recognize the disappointment.

Dessei were a very gregarious people, and being away from their circle and thrown into another was very hard for them.

Which . . . was something he could empathize with right now.

The Dessei’s eyes wandered his way, and Iago found himself waving to the being.

Surprise went over his face – or rather his crest lifted in a way that indicated it – but he did head over.

“May I sit?” he asked, his tone formal.

“Please,” Iago said.

Kessissiin sat down.  “It seems I still need to make more friends outside of training,” he said.

“It can be tough,” Iago said genuinely.

Unlike the others, he had this feeling he could trust Kessissiin.  The being was an outsider, unknown to him, but that’s what made him perfect.

He didn’t seem to look judgmental when he looked at him, there was no prior history that had been upset.

“You do well out there in training, though,” Iago said.  “I’m frankly surprised you aren’t assigned to a combat unit.”

“I wished for that,” Kessissiin said, the passion in his voice that Iago recognized, could empathize with.  “But Commander Pirra determined that since I had only just come here for detachment training it was best if I was in a non-combat unit.”

Which was a completely normal procedure, Iago knew.  He might have made the same call.  But it still seemed an injustice from this side.

“Well, we probably won’t face any combat, anyway,” Iago muttered.

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Kessissiin said.  “It is foolish to trust any being not to act in their own self-interest, and . . .”

He cut himself off.  “I am out of line,” he said quickly.  “I shouldn’t have spoken.”

“No, it’s okay,” Iago said, curious.

Kessissiin frowned.  “You are Iago Caraval, yes?  Former head of Response Team One?”

“Yes,” Iago replied.  So Kessissiin knew – but he still didn’t seem to judge.  Iago found himself fearing that, suddenly, but nothing in the Dessei’s face or body language changed.

“I’m speaking poorly about your friend and former subordinate, and-“

“Really,” Iago said.  “Words among friends.  We get to grouse.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Kessissiin added quickly.  “I have a very high regard for Commander Pirra!  She is something of a hero among our people, the first Dessei of rank to serve on a cratonic ship.  She is well known!”

“I’ve heard,” Iago said.  “But anyone can make mistakes.  What were you going to say?”

Kessissiin still hesitated, but then leaned closer.  “The Craton is a mighty prize.  It is the most advanced technology humanity – even much of the Union – has.  And here it is, alone, in a fleet of aggressive Hev.  They would have so much to gain from taking this ship.”

“You really think they’d try?  They’d have a war on their hands if they did.” Iago asked.  The thought was one he’d had – probably many had had.  It was audacious of Kessissiin to say it to him, but he respected that.

“It is short-sighted, yes, but many beings are.  They simply see a gem dangled in front of them-“

“It’s also a warning,” Iago said.  “And frankly, I think they’d find the Craton a lot harder to take than they’d think.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Kessissiin said quickly, as if to cover saying something insulting.  “But they could take the ship eventually.”

“If we didn’t just jump away.  We probably could, before they could overwhelm us,” Iago said.

“Yes,” Kessissiin agreed.  “If.”  He shook his head.  “But tactically-“

Iago held up a hand, and Kessissiin dropped silent.  “Your instincts are good.  I understand your concerns, of course.  They’re not unfounded.  But we are Response – not Operations.  We don’t train to make those decisions.”

Kessissiin nodded, reluctantly.  “Surely your words must carry some weight with the Captain, however.  I am not afraid to fight, of course – I have taken part in rescue operations during and after combat in the outer sectors.  But I feel part of our job is to anticipate, not simply react.”

“Your willingness to do the right thing is a credit to you,” Iago told him.  “I don’t know if anyone will listen to me right now.  But why don’t we make a report on this and see if we can get Pirra to listen?”

Kessissiin’s crest rose in surprise, but then he nodded.  “Thank you for taking my concerns seriously, Commander.”

“Of course.  You’re talking sense.”

It felt good to be called Commander again, Iago thought.

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