Their shadows haunted him everywhere he went. He could feel them on the edges of his consciousness, catch the movement from out of the corner of his eyes. He had failed them. He was determined not to fail another.
The warren was almost completely empty now, its seemingly endless halls stretching out and twisting in front of him as he continued his endless patrol, the whispers of the dead echoing with every footstep down the long and empty corridor. He blinked, and forced the image back into alignment.
He was overtired. He knew he was, knew he was nearly three days past his scheduled rest cycle, and yet…
He was the only one. The only Guard remaining. To sleep now would be to abandon them, to let Kahna and her cohort go unprotected. None of them were military spec — he doubted Kahna even knew how to pull the safety off. She was soft-bodied, a Noble, and though her will was steel she couldn’t protect herself, she couldn’t —
He could already picture it, the images shimmering like a mirage, the trail of blood upon the tiles, the echoing screams, the help that could only come too late.
Someone… someone was… Something was…?
His footsteps slowed, stumbling, his mind fuzzing away into the darkness, eyelids sliding closed.
Some… one… was…
A jolt of bright adrenaline rushed through his veins, startling him awake again, sending him reeling against the wall, scrambling for purchase. Footsteps behind him, danger!, the cohort was sleeping, his hand reaching for his blaster, it was their off-shift, no one else should have access–!
A gentle hand was laid upon his shoulder, Kahna’s eyes soft as they locked onto his own. Kajj’s hand went limp upon his holster, his arms dangling uselessly.
“You need to go to sleep,” she told him, her voice just as firm as it was at any budgetary meeting. “The warren is locked, Motherguard. No one is getting in.”
Anger mixed with fear, a sharp prickling mess, and Kajj glared down at her, pushing her hand off of him and away. It was always supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be the most secure location on the flotilla, the innermost sanctum, behind locks and locks and locks and — *the smell of blood, old and congealing. The reek of flesh, half burned from the plasma blasts.*
“NO,” Kajj snapped, a little more forceful than necessary. Why did no one listen to him? Why did they always insist he was paranoid, send him away…? “It isn’ t safe anymore, Treasurer. If I — I can’t–”
“You will rest,” Kahna Commanded, eyes hardening, her jaw set, and Kajj felt the order snap into place within his mind, felt the push from the weight of the Collective, urging him to obey. His already aching head rang from it, and he fought it, even knowing it would only make it worse.
He was all that was left. Guarding the warren, guarding the shadows, the whispers in the dark. He couldn’t rest, not now, not ever, the moment he stopped, the moment he turned his back–
“REST, Motherguard,” Kahna insisted, grabbing a fistful of his uniform and pulling him towards his own resting chambers. Her hand was small, but wiry, full of an unexpected strength — but she could not move him without his cooperation. Eventually, he relented, though he could not have told you how. One moment he was there, the next —
Pacing his chambers, walking around and around the room, an animal trapped within a cage, the pressure of the order prickling at the back of his mind, losing time in fits and starts, his body moving robotically towards its next task, the shadows quavering in his wake, reaching for him, whispering, questioning. Where had they gone? Where had he gone wrong?
There would be no rest for him, not tonight. Not ever, until the answer was found.