Part 7: "A Friendship"

Sergeant White Gloves: Lieutenant, I still don't think it's a good idea to just let that squirrel and his crew walk away.
Moldir: They've already done far more than we asked of them, Sergeant.
Moldir: Now, this so-called "trial" could begin at any moment. We need to be ready. I won't accept any more losses—I can't.
Moldir: There are a lot of Manus believers out there. We'll have to break through their lines if we want to have any chance of reaching David.
Moldir: It's also possible David's lost the ability to move or act on his own. We have to be fully prepared, and that includes adjusting the size of our rescue squad.
Sergeant White Gloves: Are we declaring war on Manus Vindictae?
Moldir's fingers brush lightly against the radio on her shoulder.
Sergeant White Gloves: I know we're going after David, but does the admiral know we're about to reignite a war?
Moldir: We can't abandon David ... the admiral would never let us, Sergeant.
Moldir: I believe that wholly. I have to believe that.
The sergeant doesn't argue; he only stands at attention.
Sergeant White Gloves: So, it's war.
Moldir: No. The admiral is trying to earn their trust. We can't compromise his operation.
Moldir: Our only objective is to bring David home.
Sergeant White Gloves: Then what IS the plan?
Moldir: For now, I'll draw their attention while you lead the squad in to rescue him.
Moldir: If I don't make it back, command of this unit transfers to you.
Sergeant White Gloves: What?!
Moldir: It's protocol, Sergeant. We need a solid fallback plan. Everyone on this mission is counting on us.
Penguins: Wawk wawk wawk!
A shrill cry cuts through their conversation, out of place in the icy stillness.
Sergeant White Gloves: The squirrel's penguins?
Moldir: It must be about Mr. Fairchild. This one is Scarlet Titan. I marked them so I could tell them apart.
Sergeant White Gloves: Hmph. You always did have a soft spot for animals.
Penguins: Wawk wawk wawk wawk wawk—
While Moldir cannot speak with animals, the look in the penguin's eyes gives her a pretty good guess.
Moldir: You need my help, don't you?
Penguins: Wawk.
Maybe it's the sincerity in her voice, but the penguin seems more at ease now.
It lifts one wing, revealing a colorful tuft of squirrel fur stuck to the tip.
Moldir: Begin preparations, Sergeant.
Moldir: I'll be back as soon as I can.
Sergeant White Gloves: Understood. But Lieutenant, are you really going after that squirrel?
Sergeant White Gloves: Antarctica's no place for a solo rescue. This is reckless.
Moldir: I gave him my word. It's the least I can do after everything he's done for us.
Moldir: Forgive me, Sergeant. I know my actions may put the team at risk, but this is about my honor as a soldier.
She takes the tuft of squirrel fur from the penguin's wingtip and nods in thanks. The penguin squawks twice and gestures for her to follow.
This is the second time Buddy Fairchild has woken up on this exact table. Though at least this time it feels like a relief.
Buddy Fairchild: Hey! Was that all just a nightmare?
Moldir: If you count delirium as a kind of nightmare ... then yes.
Buddy Fairchild: Good grief! Lieutenant, it's you! I thought I was imaginin' things.
Buddy Fairchild: Was that one o' yer arcane skills? Fixin' up all that shattered ice in a blink? Puts mine to shame.
Moldir: There are limits. Many things in this world can't be fixed.
Buddy Fairchild: Golly, but ya already fixed so much.
Moldir blinks slowly, weighing the words.
Moldir: Perhaps. But this ability has also made me greedy.
Moldir: Once you fix one thing, it's hard to stop yourself from trying to fix everything else, too. You just keep trying and trying, because there's always something to be fixed.
Buddy Fairchild: Oh, I getcha, Lieutenant. Heck, if I had that kinda power, first thing I'd prolly fix is my old oak's knotty trunk back home.
The squirrel shrugs, then suddenly catches himself, remembering he's supposed to be mad.
Buddy Fairchild: Just for the record ... ya may've saved my bee-hind, but that don't mean we're square!
Moldir nods as she arranges some vials.
Moldir: I suspect your delirium is linked to the Manus, those "masked freaks" you mentioned.
Moldir: There are reasons I can't explain everything, but fighting them may have been what triggered your condition.
Moldir: That's on me. You don't owe me anything.
Buddy's ears twitch. The logic is messy, but it sort of tracks.
Buddy Fairchild: Hmm ... I'd say it's you who owes me, but, either way ... I figure I should thank ya.
Buddy Fairchild: How 'bout a frozen fish?
Moldir: I appreciate the offer, Mr. Fairchild.
Moldir: And if I make it back in one piece, I will take you up on it.
Buddy Fairchild: "Make it back"? This mission of yers really that dangerous?
The squirrel weighs his anger and loyalty like acorns on a scale. After a beat, he makes a decision.
Buddy Fairchild: Well ... ya did help me, and I'm a squirrel o' my word. So, I s'pose I can help ya one last time.
Buddy Fairchild: As long as it don't involve teamin' up with those masked-up creeps, me and my penguin pals're in.
A new plan begins to take shape in Moldir's mind. Risk and reward race through her calculations. She hesitates.
Moldir: I do want your help, Buddy. But I can't share everything with you without compromising military intel. I hope you understand.
Buddy Fairchild: I getcha, I getcha ... Well then, let's make this fair. You tell me what ya can plus a lil somethin' in the way o' payment.
Moldir: Payment?
Buddy Fairchild: Nuts, scarves, a lunch ... I'll take anythin', Lieutenant, just so long as it means we're friends again.
The squirrel scratches his ear, seemingly uncomfortable with talking payment.
Buddy Fairchild: Shoot ... I forgave ya the moment ya showed up. Maybe we can still be friends if ya give me another chance to help ya out.
She seems lost in thought. Buddy begins to sense he's been turned down, but before he can say anything, Moldir checks her watch.
Moldir: We're running out of time, so I'll keep this brief.
Moldir: For now, I'll draw their attention while you lead the squad in to rescue him.
Moldir: But we have to assume they aren't as mindless as they look. If we launch a second wave after our initial distraction, the sergeant's chances of getting in and out unnoticed are much better.
Moldir: It's dangerous, and while I'll handle the riskiest part ... I could use your help.
Buddy Fairchild: Hmm ... sounds like a tough nut to crack.
Buddy Fairchild: Lemme see ... I'm gonna need at least a whole bag o' trail mix, a fancy dinner with iced fish, and ... aha! A military rank. How does "Captain Buddy Fairchild" sound to ya?
Buddy Fairchild: Shouldn't ya be salutin' me 'round about now?
Moldir: If I were recruiting, I'd have to check with my superior first.
Buddy Fairchild: Ah, don't sweat it ... I was only yankin' yer chain 'bout that anyway.
Moldir: Well, regardless of how this mission goes, I'll bring it up with my commanding officer. Though ... "Captain" may be beyond my power as a lieutenant. But, if you're willing, how does "Sergeant Buddy Fairchild" sound?
Buddy Fairchild: Sergeant Buddy Fairchild?
Buddy Fairchild: My momma'd be so proud!