the infiltration operation

[tactician]

The research outpost on one of Gladsheim's more distant moons was less a functioning facility than it was a glorified storage closet for all the projects the militaristic government abandoned in favor of stealing from other planets' research sectors. Now that they had acquired the Seventh, which meant that they were privy to a great deal of information from the Sixth, a large portion of Gladsheim's more legitimate research facilities had been shut down, according to what reconnaissance agents the Circle still had out on the field, many of its previous scientists placed under obligatory planetary residence as to avoid leaking anything.

But the research outpost on Gladsheim's distant moon contained one thing that was still highly relevant to modern day prosthetic sciences, even if the government itself didn't realize as much - a field of study regarding the signalling of brainwaves to operate machinery not only attached to the body, but perhaps even in an entirely separate form itself. If brought to fruition, it could limit the need for human casualties and greatly reduce the Circle's disadvantage of lesser numbers. It was something one of its previous researches had been looking into on the down-low.

Speaking of which.

"You're looking a little pale," Evan said, checking himself in the car's side mirror as he combed a hand through his newly dyed hair before donning a pair of red-rimmed, plastic-lens glasses. His eyes slid sideways in his reflection. "You remember where it is, doc?"

Comments

[aphelionix]

With a sigh, he leaned back again. His gaze was turned to the window, watching the deep, freckled black space.

"The fact that I had to use anything is distressing. It just... reminds me that I'm not the same person I used to be."

[tactician]

Evan hid a smile behind his hand. "What? You were jumping into all sorts of danger a few years ago?"

[aphelionix]

"I most certainly was not," he said, frowning at Evan. "Not... any danger I didn't have to, at least. But I wasn't a coward, either. Before all that."

[tactician]

"Being anxious doesn't make you a coward," Evan said, still looking ahead, his voice deceptively calm.

[aphelionix]

"Then I'm a coward separately of that."

[tactician]

"You're very insistent on that," Evan remarked, neither refuting nor agreeing. In his experience, people who talked like that were rarely dissuaded.

It seemed as though both Foster siblings were just as stubborn after all.

[aphelionix]

Bentley fell silent, closing his eyes again. He was remembering a lot of things he didn't want to, and overall just felt terrible. Curling into a ball on the floor was about the only thing he wanted to do, and he couldn't even do that.

"I don't suppose you have a sleeping pill or five?"

[tactician]

Evan tapped his fingers against his armrest. "You're the doctor here - I don't suppose you need me to tell you the possible side effects of taking five at once."

He leaned his cheek against his fist and, after a pause, said, "It's your brother setting you on edge, isn't it?"

[aphelionix]

"I just stepped into the last place I want to be, and ran into the last person I want to see ever," he said, almost exasperated if it weren't for the mental exhaustion setting in, hands over his face.

"So, yes."

[tactician]

Well, that was better than having Bentley just sit there feeling sorry and calling himself names.

Evan tread gently, regardless. He had read Bentley's files and had seen enough interaction between the two bothers (however brief) to understand that the relationship was hardly a peaceful one. The exact details of the obvious preexisting tension wasn't written in the report, but he figured it wasn't easy when your only remaining family was a person quite like Commander Joel Foster of the Gladsheim military, especially when Bentley was at such a polar opposite in terms of personality and disposition.

"You gotta think on the bright side sometimes, doc," he said slowly. "It turned pretty hairy back there, and we both still made it out of there in one piece with the mission objective completed. I'd say that's a good job."

[aphelionix]

"Barely," Bentley mumbled, his hands dropping back into his lap. There was truth behind Evan's reasoning, even if he was being stubborn and negative. But Evan was observant - he was sure to notice the defeat on Bentley's face, and the way he had already relaxed without seeming to notice himself.

Although he quickly seemed back to normal when he looked at Evan with concern, remembering something.

"God, I didn't even ask - are you all right? Your face is... well, all bloody..."

[tactician]

Evan blinked at Bentley for a moment and then began to laugh.

"Well, thanks for noticing, doc, haha!"

[aphelionix]

"Is... that funny?"

[tactician]

"You ask about it when I've all but stopped bleeding," Evan pointed out, running his knuckles against the underside of his chin. He could feel where the open wound was beginning to scab over on his jaw and over his lip, but no doubt the mess of the fight was still drying all over his face. "Great doctor you are."

[aphelionix]

He stared a moment longer before giving a huff of amusement.

"Quiet, you," Bentley said, reaching under the seat for the small first aid kit. "I was... preoccupied."

[tactician]

"You were having a meltdown," Evan laughed.

[aphelionix]

"That, that is not funny," he countered, passing Evan a couple antibiotic-treated wipes.

[tactician]

"But the best thing about it is that you waited until we were past all the really harrowing stuff to do it," Evan continued, chuckling as he ripped open the wipes to gingerly clean his face. "Talk about a good sense of timing."

[aphelionix]

"The medication wore off," Bentley defended, a little red in the face. "But yes, it would've been bad to panic while we were on the mission."

[tactician]

"I've never talked to someone who was so insistent on making sure everyone knew they were a coward," Evan mused, not at all dissuaded from his argument.

At the very least, the wipes were doing wonders for his face. The bruises that Joel had left on him would heal in due time, but there was a lot to say for not having crusting, brown-red blood smeared all over your features, even if the clean-up job did reveal some less-pleasant-looking shiners.

[aphelionix]

"I'm not making everyone know," he sighed, tossing a couple band-aids onto Evan's lap and stowing the kit away again. "I just... was remembering things. I don't expect anyone to get it."

[tactician]

"You could talk about it," Evan suggested, eyes otherwise focused on peeling the bandages away from their sanitized protective cover.

[aphelionix]

There was a short moment of hesitation before he answered. "I appreciate it. I... don't really know where to start, though."

[tactician]

"Wherever you want," Evan said, smoothing the edges of the bandage over his cheek. "It's less about me hearing it than it is you blowing off some steam by getting it off your chest."

[aphelionix]

Bentley ran his fingers along the edge of his seatbelt idly, thinking about it a moment.

"I know pretty much everyone knows about my history," he sighed, not exactly happy about the fact. He knew next to nothing about everyone else. "But it really began when we were young. I don't think my brother was all that right in the head to begin with. Like any younger sibling, I just wanted him to like me. We split ways when he joined the military, and a few years later I went to med school. We didn't meet again until I was abducted for Gladsheim's projects. I'm still not sure if he planned on that.

"Once I realized how wrong their purposes were, and their inhumane way of working, well... I tried to... rally up the other doctors and researchers into rebelling against them. They were behind me, and it seemed like we had a good chance."

Bentley paused, grimacing. This was where it got particularly unpleasant

"They had no reservations about outright slaughtering some of them. They threatened their families, beat them, just... awful things.

"Joel took it personally with me. It slipped that I started it. Just as I rallied them against him, he rallied them against me."

His hand dropped to his left arm, his thumb rubbing against the metal beneath his sleeve.

"Once they started blaming me out of desperation, getting them to... to cut me apart was easy."

Bentley's shoulders sagged, his gaze forward but elsewhere in time.

"The escape is fuzzy now. I remember fighting with Joel, barely winning and getting away. Then months and months of being on the run and rapidly losing my mind." He smiled wryly. "Getting kidnapped by the Circle was just about the best thing that could've happened to me."