"OF COURSE NOT!!" Orion's internal shout was so loud it felt like it should have been audible to everyone around him. He even physically slapped himself on the cheek, the stinging sensation a welcome anchor to reality. Pawn had just given him a stark, logical warning for a very good reason! And he trusted the calm, disembodied voice talking in his *soul* far more than he trusted the panicked, desperate voice talking in his own *head*. Orion knew from brutal, firsthand experience just how much the latter one had screwed him over in the past, leading him into alleys that were traps, towards deals that were cons, and into hopes that were hollow. That voice was a liar born of desperation; Pawn was a calculator built for survival.
"Cmon universe, don't do this to me now," he whispered, his words a frantic plea muffled by the crate he was hiding behind. "Smile for me just once, please, please, please..." Orion joined his hands together, fingers tightly interlocked, and did a little "Prayer" motion, rocking back and forth slightly. He didn't know what it truly was, but he'd seen a few older, more superstitious folks in the alleys do it before attempting a risky theft or a dangerous trade, a ritual to bring good luck. So he copied it, pouring all his hope into the gesture. It was a child's mimicry of faith, a last resort when all logical options had evaporated.
Just then, as if the universe had indeed decided to smile upon him for the first time in his life, a clear, authoritative voice cut through the ambient noise of the base. It was the man in the intricate armor standing by the front gates, his voice amplified somehow to carry across the compound.
"Orion from Central. Arnold from Central. Robin from Central, Sylvie From Garrison."
Orion's eyes snapped open wide in utter surprise. He looked directly at the commanding officer, then his gaze shot up to the sky, a massive, disbelieving grin spreading across his face. A laugh of pure, unadulterated relief bubbled out of him. "My stars, universe, THANK YOU! I love you!!" he whispered fervently to the air. Without a second thought for his hiding place or his pursuers, he scrambled to his feet and ran towards the man, his heart pounding not with fear now, but with triumphant deliverance. He had been called! He had a mission! He was officially part of a crew, which meant he was under the protection of the base, if only for a moment. It was a shield, however temporary.
Orion stood before the man, doing his best to appear still and professional, waiting for further instructions. But as he waited, his natural, overwhelming curiosity got the better of him. He couldn't help but take light, furtive peeks at the slab of sleek black brick the officer was holding. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. On the other side of it, images began to appear, glowing with a soft light. One after the other, Orion saw pictures of people materialize on the smooth surface of the brick, and when the Commanding Officer touched an image and swiped with his fingers, it would disappear, and another image would instantly take its place. It was mesmerizing. Analyzing the images more closely, Orion noticed they were actually very simmilar in layout and content to the paper form he had signed when he first walked into the Base of Operations.
"What the hell are you looking at?" The Commanding Officer asked him, not looking up from his device. His voice seemed incredibly loud and penetrating to Orion, although the man was speaking calmly and in a relatively low tone. It was a voice used to being obeyed.
"AH! S-Sorry, sir! I was just curious, haha!" Orion immediatelly snapped to attention, saluting clumsily and straightening his back so rigidly it almost hurt. He felt his face grow warm with embarrassment.
The Commanding Officer finally looked up from his task and glanced at Orion, then followed his gaze to his own hands. "What, you never seen a tablet before?" he asked, his tone a mix of annoyance and genuine puzzlement.
"...Tablet?" Orion tilted his head, the word completely foreign to him. He had no frame of reference for what this amazing, glowing slate could be.
The officer stared at him, his eyebrows rising. "...Are you serious?" he asked, his disbelief palpable. "There are full-blown Holographic projectors in Central, but you've never seen a basic, civilian-grade TABLET before?"
Orion didn't know how to reply. He just stood there, feeling smaller and more out of place than ever. The technological gap between his life in the alleys and the world these people inhabited was a yawning chasm he had never truly appreciated until this moment.
"How old are you, kid?" the officer asked, his voice losing some of its edge, replaced by something else.
"Twelve years old, sir..." Orion replied, his voice barely above a mumble.
"Stars above," the man muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "This fucking settlement... The disparities..." He seemed to be talking to himself more than to Orion. "I'll have to talk with Management about this..." He massaged his temples as if warding off a headache born of bureaucratic and social frustration. He then looked back to his "Tablet" and seemed to swipe a few more times, his eyes scanning information only he could see. "Tsc," he clicked his tongue. "Mundane too?" he murmured, almost to himself.
The officer seemed to hesitate for a little bit after that. He stared directly into Orion's eyes, and for just a fraction of a second, Orion saw it—a flicker of pity shown at the very pit of them, a deep, weary sadness for the scrawny, ignorant kid from the slums who was about to be sent into the Wilderness utterly unequipped. But it was quickly hidden away, veiled by the practiced neutrality of a soldier following procedure.
At his words, Orion raised a hand, his mouth opening to try and say something, to correct this critical misunderstanding. "Actually, I—" he began, wanting to explain that he wasn't Mundane anymore, that he had Ignited his Spark, that he had a Familiar just this morning!!
But he was quickly and firmly interrupted by the man who gave another order, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Go to that corner over there and wait for your crew to assemble." He pointed towards a relatively empty corner of the yard where a few worn-out chairs were scattered.
Orion was about to try again to say something, to insist, but by that point, a new wave of panic hit him. From his peripheral vision, he saw that his old housemates had finally received some form of permission from the guards and were now actively looking around the base, their heads swiveling, searching for him. And that corner the officer had pointed to... it seemed really secluded and hard to spot from the main entrance. It was the perfect place to hide until they left.
The decision was made in a heartbeat. The immediate need to avoid a beating overrode the longer-term need to correct his official status. Orion quickly bowed his head. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" he said, and without another word, he hurried to his designated spot, melting into the shadows of the corner, pulling his hood up slightly.
After all, he reasoned to himself, sitting down on the chair trying to make himself as small as possible, not mentioning he had Ignited his spark earlier today wouldn't result in anything terribly bad happening right? The officials would find out eventually, surely. It was just a small omission, a temporary secret kept for immediate safety. nothing bad would come of it, Right?
Right?