social link GO?!!!

[aphelionix]

Wallabin's frankly boring visits were starting to become commonplace at the Gladsheim base; to the point where even Locke was getting dirty looks from the fellow soldiers. When he slanted his glance their way, they usually shut up their gossiping and returned to what they were doing, though. One would think they'd be used to it by now, but they didn't cease to find amusement in Locke running the duo around. (They always silenced themselves when Gearhorn turned up, though.)

Luckily for Weiler and Locke, they were allowed a break from Wallabin while he met with Gearhorn and several other officers. (More demands to be met, more money to be donated and the like, Locke was sure.) There weren't many safe places to talk on base, unfortunately. He didn't even trust his own quarters.

There was only one place that he knew would be safe, due to the sheer loud volume of it; the cantina. It was less than glamorous, and the drinks they had to offer were definitely not as exquisite as the bar they had gone to. The company even less so. It was with a little reluctance that Locke suggested it.

"We could kill some time at the cantina," he had said, "but I don't think you'll like it."

Comments

OF THE DEVIL ARCANA

[tactician]

Weiler, fingers folded behind his back, slid a look over to his side. "Why not?" he asked innocently.

[tactician]

'Later' came much later in the week and the day when most soldiers had retired to the privacy and relative quiet of their bunkers.

Wallabin hadn't made an appearance once in the base within that half a week, which was both unsurprising but unusual for him. The meeting he had last attended had sounded like a serious one, given the dour expression and the set in the senator's jaw the entire ride back to his residence. He had spent nearly the entirety of his next seventy-two hours holed up in his study, leaving only to sleep. He had ordered his meals brought up to him, and only gave Weiler a passing glance when the tray was set down. This wasn't entirely unheard of - despite his penchant for indulgence, the man did have certain bouts during which he actually did work, but considering how he had made it a point to visit the base at least once every two days (to 'touch base,' he said), some might have found it odd.

Weiler had been rather preoccupied too. He had spent the first day and a half carefully observing Wallabin in case this bout of seclusion wasn't ordinary, but none of the bugs and none of his instincts could pinpoint what was wrong, although the niggling feeling he had in his chest never quite left. Then, before he could really come to any conclusion on that, his bi-monthly report to the Circle had come and gone, which left him with an empty sensation that only intensified as the next day wore on. Weiler had all but forgotten the phone call until that last day, and even then, only as he was about to turn in did he recall it.

Locke's phone rang at eleven-forty-three PM, at the end of three days.