“Come on, Sira. Time to wake up.”
This again? No, this time the voice is warm and inviting, and distinctly not coming from somewhere inside Sira’s head.
The warmth of a hand on their shoulder creeps into their awareness. They slowly peel their eyes open, eyelids feeling heavy and crusted over, and the blurry figure of Rani in dim lighting slowly comes into focus. She’s almost fully dressed in armor, aside from the helmet and mask. Behind her, other figures shuffle around the room with inaudible chatter.
She smiles, although she looks weary. “You don’t have anything to pack up like we do, so I didn’t want to wake you yet, but Karim brought us some stuff he wants you to wear on the trip over so you’re better protected. I’m happy to help you put it on if you want.”
Sira makes a small noise in response as they push themself upright. Rani removes her hand and takes a step back to give them room to orient themself, which gives Sira a view of the dark shapes laid out on the bed next to theirs: a bulky black jacket folded in on itself, alongside an equally bulky pair of pants, simplistic helmet, and a respirator that might be the same as the one they were given yesterday.
“The jacket and pants are reinforced. It’s not full armor, but it’s what’s given to civilians or non-combatant workers during transport or an emergency,” she explains.
The words register slowly in Sira’s head as they rub the crust out of their eyes and blink a few times to regain their vision properly. Everything feels heavy and sluggish, but at least they didn’t have another nightmare after they’d gone back to sleep.
“…I think I can figure it out.”
Rani nods and steps away. Sira rubs one eye as the other looks over the room. Everyone has fully donned their armor, aside from Lionel, who sits on a bed with his back to Sira as he wrestles with the laces of his boots. The array of belongings that took up the floor the previous night has been stored in canvas bags. Therese is on her feet but bent over her device, set up on her bed. They have to wonder if she ever parts with it completely.
Mikael is to their right, who sits on the side of his bed facing the back wall, hiding his front from view. His eye patch lies folded next to him and his head is tilted back as he holds something above his face: a small bottle that gives as he squeezes it between his fingers. Eye drops, it looks like.
They decide it isn’t their business and return their attention to the ‘protection’ laid out on the bed next to them. The jacket can serve as outerwear, obviously, but the pants also look big enough that Sira can slip them on without needing to go to the bathroom to change. It doesn’t sound comfortable, but complaining would be useless.
They slowly stand off the bed and absently roll one of their shoulders. A soreness pulses in their collarbone that they think is from sleeping weirdly or the mattress being stiff, but that fact hardly bothers them. What irks them are the traces of a headache wrapping around their eyes and skull – a consequence of not sleeping enough.
“Mornin’ Sira. How’d you sleep?”
Lionel’s voice. He still fights his laces, but there’s a grin on his face. Sira looks back down at the bed in front of them and bends over to pick up the jacket. They hold it out in front of them as it hangs open, already unzipped, to assess its size. Big, but not that they’d feel they’re swimming in it.
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“Had a nightmare, I think,” they answer as they turn the jacket around and start to slip their arms into it. It’s an odd mix of a material that feels like rubbery cloth with hard plastic set into its surface. “No dreams after that, though.”
Lionel’s expression falters like he feels stupid for asking the question now. “Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
Sira hadn’t answered like that on purpose, it was just the first thing that sprung to mind, but they have little energy to care. When they realize they still have their own boots on, they drop the jacket and plop back onto the bed. It would be easier to get that out of the way before restricting some of their arm movement with ill-fitted clothing.
“Leave them be, Lionel. They’re probably still half-asleep,” Rani says from where she stands next to Therese, although her voice lacks an edge.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lionel sounds more clipped than he did before, but the interaction barely registers in Sira’s head. They slide off the first boot after untying it and get part-way through undoing the second as a creak from their right makes them look back in Mikael’s direction. He’s on his feet now, eyepatch returned to his face and the straps of his canvas bag held in one hand. He has plenty of physical presence without it on, but the armor’s moderate bulk and hard angles magnify it. His attention glosses over Sira as he passively observes his teammates.
There hadn’t been more talk after the conversation last night aside from Sira telling him when they were ready to go back, which was fine. There was a point when their tiredness took over and they wanted to get back to sleep as much as he probably wanted them out of his hair.
Not going to be around much longer. Sira reminds themself as they return to undoing the last of their footwear. New faces. New stresses. More being carted around. Assume the worst.
Thankfully, the grogginess blanketed over them dulls any anxiety just as much as it dulls everything else.
“I’m going to get the rest of our things from the armory.” Mikael slings his canvas bag over his shoulder and starts on his way towards the door. “I’ll be downstairs.”
“Thanks, Mikael,” Rani tells him as he passes by.
“Mhm.”
Sira returns to a standing position and retrieves the pants. They have to sit back down to put them on again, but it doesn’t seem that anyone in the room is paying much attention to what they’re doing. Mikael shuts the door behind him, and the atmosphere feels a bit lighter afterward.
“What exactly is the plan again?” Sira asks absentmindedly.
“Safely getting you to HQ, where I assume you’ll be introduced to the director,” Rani answers without looking in Sira’s direction. “We’ll be in one of the armored trucks and Karim told us there’s supposed to be another team meeting us halfway just in case something happens.”
Their eyebrows raise. “Is it a dangerous trip?”
Lionel laughs a little mirthlessly. “Everywhere without any defenses or filtration is dangerous.”
“I know what you meant,” Rani says to Sira while shooting Lionel a look. “It’s not an especially dangerous route, but there’s always a risk and this is an important task, so better safe than sorry, right? I’m sure after what happened yesterday, you’ll be happy with some added protection.”
Sira actively resists their mind conjuring up any images of yesterday’s events as they finish pulling the pants over their existing pair. The layering feels odd, but it’s manageable. “Is that where we go our separate ways?”
“Not a chance,” Lionel cuts in again, now fully dressed. “We’re probably all in for a hell of a debriefing after this.”
Therese loudly groans as she finally closes the device she was fiddling with, “Oh God, please don’t remind me.”
“At least we’ll be getting a bit of a break while it’s getting sorted out, eh? You can go back to your projects.”
“…yeah, I guess that’s true.”
The conversation dies after that. Sira gets the jacket on and returns the boots to their feet. The armored parts of the jacket would poke into them if angled slightly wrong or with pressure applied. They pick the respirator up off the bed as well, but no one else has put any of their face coverings on yet, so Sira holds onto it for the time being.
“Ready?” Rani asks.
Past the grogginess, a hint of trepidation reaches them, but they still nod.
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