He'd been invited to the Control Room. Well... okay, not really. Rakashi had been called to the Control Room for some official reason or another, and since he was there and her assistant and everything (though it was most likely because she was just looking to share the abject boredom of the situation), she invited him along. It still counted.
        Rean had never seen the place. He also learned quickly that he probably never would, being told that he didn't have the clearance to be on that floor let alone in the waiting area... but the general managed to surprise him again by insisting. He was technically her personal assistant, after all, so it made sense. It was simply a little surreal. Like most things around General Vrunai, he supposed.
        And there were parts of her reputation that were lived up to. She wasn't exactly questioned when she side-stepped the guard and told Rean to get on the elevator. He could always have said that he was too busy following orders to have enjoyed the look on the guard's face, but that would have been a lie.
        Unfortunately, the furthest he got was what served as an otherwise abandoned "waiting room" outside of the actual Control Room--but by the general's glance before leaving him there, he really didn't want to go further. Oh sure, there was the urge to simply satisfy curiosity... but he was learning that Rakashi pretty much knew what she was talking about, even without having to say a word.
        With the door closed and assuredly locked, Rean sighed and sat on one of the most uncomfortable chairs he had ever encountered. Then stared at the ceiling. Metal. Damn. Not that he had any pencils with him. Still, it seemed like a decent use of his time to ponder just how much force might be necessary to embed a pencil into a metal ceiling. He'd bet money on Rakashi being able to find a way.
        While he was decently certain that the walls of the Control Room were soundproofed, his silent pondering combined with the fact that he was looking for something, anything to break the monotony allowed him to all too clearly hear the general's words from inside. "What do you mean we 'all have to make sacrifices'?"
        He cringed a bit. He'd never heard Rakashi yell. Hell, she didn't yell; her version of raising her voice was a stinging comment or a glare. This was kind of serious, then. And Rean was trying not to strain his ears to overhear, he really was, but he was pretty sure that outburst would be followed by bones snapping. All he managed to hear were muffled responses, far too quiet to actually make anything out thanks to the soundproofing. He doubted that they anticipated yelling.
        Still, when everything went utterly silent, he grew concerned. Just as he was about to press his ear to the door and see if he might be able to hear anyone breathing, the general managed to storm her way out of the Control Room with barely a sound. Oh, she looked like she had plenty left to say, but her jaw was set in quiet rage. She didn't so much as glance at her assistant, but he knew enough to follow. Shame that he didn't think to glance back and get a look at the inside, the mysterious place full of mysterious people that he'd likely never see again. Not that that seemed like a bad thing, at the moment.

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        They reached Rakashi's office without interruption, which seemed a lucky thing for anyone that might have accidentally torn that silent rage right open. The moment she stepped inside, she seemed to be considering the ramifications of systematically destroying her desk with the crowbar in the bottom drawer.
        Rean walked in behind her, strangely unafraid of that rage. Of course, he did admit to himself there and then it was probably stupid of him not to have dismissed himself and let her have some time alone... but if she wanted that, she probably wouldn't have a problem telling him. "It's not really my business..."
        But the woman seemed perfectly fine with answering. "I'm now a 'general off the field.'" She spat in monotone.
        That... made no sense. "Meaning?"
        She didn't even look at him, eyes narrowing on her desk as though she were considering fire rather than a crowbar. "I keep my rank, but I'm 'no longer needed on the battlefront.'" Not that she was all that fond of being involved in war, but she'd been looking forward to getting the hell out of her office and back to where things weren't so backward. Back to the life she knew, to Sarah and field reports and maps.
        Rean found it hard to manage a response. Rakashi was their sure thing. To keep her away from the battle... "That's... that is..."
        "Bullshit." She finished for him.
        "Why? Why would they..?"
        "There was an 'incident.'" She finally looked at him, a surprisingly warm look of murder in her eyes, making them look almost gold.
        "And they didn't tell you what it was." It was an easy guess for him to make, half from experience and half from Demi's drunken rants.
        "It's 'for my safety.'" She sneered, once again giving the desk the kind of look that said she'd have liked to rip its guts out.
        "Bullshit." Rean agreed softly without thinking. Though, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when he wasn't admonished for his tone.
        The general could only shake her head, seeming to think better of destroying her desk and preferring to try and get the forming headache to go away. Of all the stupid things to have happen, and all of the reasons that didn't even seem to exist...
        "What happens now?" he asked quietly, unable to help his curiosity. If she wasn't going back to the field, then... was she expected to stay at the Tower permanently? Sure, Demi didn't mind but... he was very weird.
        "I am to wait for my briefing." She snorted distastefully, electing to actually approach her desk and sit on it, papers and all. "In other words, the Control Room doesn't know, either."
        It was all so... weird. And still none of his damn business, but there was just something about Rakashi's expression that invited theory. "Maybe they're trying to hide you again? To push you into the background?"
        She nearly chuckled at the idea, not to mention Rean's attempt at some kind of comfort, such as it was. It wasn't that he didn't have a point; military secrecy was kind of big around those parts. Still... there didn't seem to be a reason for such an action. "I wouldn't put it past them, though it doesn't add up." There was a thoughtful pause, something seemingly slow and dangerous. "Mr. Coi. I don't suppose that you might be able to provide, or get that friend of yours to provide, a suitable security distraction while I try to get recent logs?"
        --Wow. Did she just ask him to..? Well. Usually he was trying to remind Captain Dulce that he shouldn't be causing problems for people. Rean was aware immediately that Demi would agree to help right away on principle. Though, there was one concern. "That might depend on how much trouble this 'distraction' might get anyone into."
        "That might depend on how good this 'distraction' is." Rakashi managed to grin slightly, folding her arms across her chest. "Nothing major. That comes with problems. Something... annoyingly minor."
        Oh yes, the captain was excellent at those sorts of things. "Yes, sir."
        "This is not an order, Mr. Coi." She reminded.
        "Of course not." Rean agreed, quickly slipping out the door. He was the voice of reason most of the time, sure... but given the opportunity, he supposed that he was just as viciously playful as the general herself seemed. Kind of weird, actually.

------------------------

        Demi's plan had been surprisingly brilliant and alarmingly quick. He'd just stared at his friend for a long time after Rean had explained that they needed to create a low-level distraction, then had taken a few more seconds more to accept it as fact and start plotting.
        Laundry detergent. Specifically, the kind of shitty detergent that was supplied and used by all of the Tower. Now, everyone was aware that it could be used as one ingredient in explosives. It was sort of just a common fact, something that was kind of interesting for a time and then forgotten.
        Captain Dulce had decided to march up to one of the guards with a box of detergent in hand and demand they change brands. Now this on its own was nothing. The man could have gotten shooed away easily for being a nut... except that he was Demi. For the most part, Rean simply looked on in slightly sympathetic amusement as the raven-haired man managed to work first one, then two, five, ten guards into a frenzy of circular logic. The more people who showed up to explain the situation and be the voice of reason, the more people got swept up in the insane and wrong "facts" that the captain continued to list off, all the while having the box in his hand that would have easily disputed 90% of his claims.
        It was fascinating. It was also terrifying to think that with a little effort, this man could jump rank and be in charge of more pressing things. At the end of a two hour period of what was more or less watching one man make the heads of a small security force explode, Demi did the unthinkable: he finally read the back of the box, apologized for the misunderstanding, and walked away. Rean was almost too dumbfounded to follow, tossing a quick apology over his shoulder as he jogged to catch up.
        Only when they were quite far away from the scene did Captain Dulce grin and ask, "So? That what you had in mind?"
        "No." The brunet answered. "That was at least a million times better." He hoped that was enough time for the general... but then again, it was Rakashi.

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        He slipped quietly back into the office, not surprised to find the woman sitting at her desk. He was a little surprised to see two pencils embedded in the ceiling above her, though he didn't suppose he needed to acknowledge that. "Barely escaped with my life." He found himself joking, in a surprisingly good mood as he locked the door. "Find anything?"
        That mood was sadly going to get shattered. She felt the need to get straight to the point. "The logs are gone."
        "Gone?" Rean repeated, not quite certain that information had been heard correctly.
        Something closer to a hiss than a sigh escaped her, Rakashi finally looking up and right at her assistant. "All of my logs, my files, have seemingly vanished. I even broke into Seris' desk to see if they'd been 'forgotten for the night', but there was nothing."
        He couldn't quite place his finger on exactly what was so disturbing about that. Still, such a high-ranking official's logs suddenly missing completely didn't seem to be either a regular occurrence or a very good sign. According to both Rakashi and Demi, the military was so damn anal about those things... "Was it a trap?" It was all a little too conspiracy theory for him, but the idea wasn't exactly impossible.
        "Maybe." She shrugged. "We'll see. I'm sure you'll hear the yelling all over the Tower if so. But I'd have thought the trap would have been sprung by now..." Sitting back in her chair, she took on a thoughtful look. After what seemed like a long silence, she admitted, "Your logs aren't there, either."
        Any reassurance that he'd felt was instantly wiped clean. The weight of her words took time to hit, his question a bit numb and lacking the heat that he was sure it deserved. "What--when were you going to tell me that?"
        She had no defense and didn't offer lies. "I just did."
        "But you could have earlier." He pointed out, feeling childish. It was true, though.
        "I didn't really want you any more involve than you already were." Rakashi admitted, voice guarded and soft. "But it's becoming more clear that you already are involved, and you have a right to know."
        Strange... everything. Strange information, strange feeling he was going to throw up at any moment, strange that he wasn't unbelievably pissed off at this woman. He was a bit fearful, though. "So, what are we supposed to do now?"
        Her response was a complete shock in too many ways to comprehend. Rakashi didn't speak, merely tossed him (with astounding accuracy) a heavy plastic key card. He caught it a little clumsily, staring at it for several seconds in disbelief. "A security card?"
        She nodded. "I don't have a car."
        Rean didn't follow at first, giving the general a long stare until it finally clicked. "But you know someone who does, right?"
        Standing up without a word, she only grinned on her way out the door. What could he do but follow?

------------------------

        He had no idea what he was in for. He also had no idea just how many elevators went to floors he had no access to, a simple slide of the key card in almost invisible slots getting the floor numbers panel to add dozens of options he'd never seen. Every door they encountered also required the security card, and the fact that they had to use multiple elevators was starting to worry him.
        It was roughly three seconds before Rean was about to ask just where they were actually going that the elevator doors slid open--revealing a vast, seemingly endless basement garage. He'd never even imagined...
        Had he been able to see Rakashi's face at that moment, he likely would have turned around and gone right back to where he came from. It was the kind of barely-there but very real sort of grin that was a bit joyful and a little excited and mostly just evil in its own way. With great care, she reached into her right front pocket and pulled out... The Key.
        Rean followed after her when he realized she was walking away--and not stopping at the section of smaller, cheaper-looking cars. What she was headed for was several aisles down into what he could tell was the rather exclusive section, straight for the... no, that couldn't be right. The general reached out and gave one particular car a light caress as if she did own it, but... she just couldn't be serious... "T-that's a Fluxx_3 Roadster, isn't it?"
        "Oooohh, is it." She practically purred in a reverent tone, one hand splayed over the side mirror an instant before she opened the door and climbed in.
        It was sleek, black, sexy as hell, and... perfect. Truly, absolutely perfect. He'd never considered himself to be a "car guy" by any stretch of the imagination, but there were some things that demanded devotion regardless of what walk of life you came from. He could see how this machine could reduce men to tears... or was possibly about to. He really did find himself wanting to climb into that passenger's seat, but... "And this isn't yours?"
        "Nope." The general answered easily, almost making a bit of a show of sliding the key into the ignition, her other hand lightly caressing the steering wheel.
        It was at that moment when Rean thought he may want to reconsider. The logical part of his mind seemed to have been knocked completely unconscious by the part that sort of reveled in suicidal activity, however. (How else would he explain his friendship with Demi?) He wasn't even quite aware that he was in the car until he realized that the seatbelt didn't feel quite as secure as he would have liked...
        The universe became a streak of motion behind them. How Rakashi managed to navigate through all those other cars at such high speed was a matter better left to philosophers. It allowed her passenger to focus solely on wondering whether he was going to survive the ride.
        Sunshine. All of a sudden, it covered them through the car windows and the, for once, properly-named sun roof. Warm and gold-red from late afternoon, the light seemed like a foreign thing. As strange and new as the wind across their faces from the narrowly opened windows, the landing strip beneath them that eventually gave way to cobblestones and then open dirt.
        Dust streamed behind them, the car's shock absorbers truly pushed to their limits over the uneven ground. The artificial valley before them swiftly became rolling hills--and one very steep drop. When Rean finally managed to locate his stomach, he looked over to find the general looking... strangely calm. It really hit him, then: they were Outside. Rakashi... did not belong behind the walls of the Tower, behind that desk in that little room. Maybe she didn't belong behind the wheel of an expensive, powerful sports car, either, but the speed and the open landscape suited her. The sunlight suited her.
        When at last her assistant gained wits enough to speak, the question seemed an obvious one. "How are you not going to get into trouble for this?"
        "I will tell you a little secret, Mr. Coi." She turned the wheel and tapped the brake, giving the car a little spin-out before changing direction. Each point she made seemed to add weight to the foot solidly on the gas pedal. "Being a general pays off." Another burst of speed. "Being a female is better." The engine went from a rough hum to a roar. "But being known as a vicious bitch is a free pass."
        He laughed. Hard. He didn't mean to, but it bubbled out of him long before he expected it to happen.
        "Any more questions?" she teased openly.
        No. No, not at all. Not really. Well... he couldn't believe he'd come up with it, let alone the fact that he was actually saying it, asking it out loud. Demi must never know. "Do you have to call me Mr. Coi all the time?" He'd been seconds away from using that old line about it being his father's name, though he imagined that might ruin the moment.
        The question caused what seemed to be an honestly surprised glance from Rakashi before her eyes went back to the landscape in front of them. "Habit. I don't usually use first names." Her voice dropped in tone and emotion. "It becomes too familiar."
        Not if they're friends... Went through his mind, promptly squashed by whatever logical disillusion he could muster.
        "But..." she continued softly without prompting, recovering as she made a wide turn at extremely high speeds, "I suppose there's no harm when we're not under the gazes of a bunch of assholes."
        Rean was still trying to wrap his mind around so many things about that statement when she skidded a long ways into what finally became a dead stop. She completely interrupted his train of thought by pointing, clearly indicating that he should follow her line of sight.
        "See that exceptionally steep incline over there?" she asked with a hint of deviant plotting.
        He wasn't sure if he ought to say yes, that he did indeed see it, or no, he did not and had no interest in getting closer. Unfortunately, he nodded before he really understood what he was doing.
        "We can't set foot outside of the car, or we'll get dragged back inside." Rakashi informed him, revving the engine slightly as he eyes were glued to that incline as if staring it down, preparing to go in for the kill. "And even if we don't get out of the car, they'll be sending a small army of military vehicles to bring us back before long. So, wanna jump that?"
        What a stupid question. What and utterly moronic, ridiculous... "Yes."
        The general gave him a long, appraising look. Her assistant gave off every appearance of white knuckles and a forcefully set jaw... but that answer had sounded surprisingly certain. Almost level-headed, even. Well. There was an old saying about gift horses.
        Half of the landscape seemed to erupt from underneath them as the tires spun--but only for the space of a quick heartbeat or two. Traction was nearly instantaneous as the engine made noises that no machine should be capable of, thundering them both straight ahead and firmly in their seats.
        Ground became sky. Earth became flight.
        And then there was dirt. Cracking, breaking fiberglass, twisting metal, jolting, and... more dirt. A lot more dirt.
        What at last the dust settled enough to survey the world around them, there was silence for a little while longer... then a tire popping. A coughing fit came after that, and then the sound of a seatbelt releasing.
        "Well." Rakashi cleared her throat. "That was a complete success."
        Rean stared at her for a moment before he managed to release his own belt. He decided that it was in his best interest to remain silent. Especially since, apparently, they'd be walking back.