fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

"The fire drill last week had a good premise," Arthur began, as soon as everyone had gathered. Even if he'd disagreed with the execution of it. "We'll continue mapping out the island today, although our current task is far more simple. In the event of a sudden attack, we must be aware of the easiest and quickest trails leading to a gathering point or a way of getting off the island. When the alligators invaded, many of us met up at the park - that's one location. There are only two ways off the island: either by boat from the docks, or by causeway. I'd like you all to go to one of these three locations by use of the route that seems fastest to you. Then return to us, and we'll compare exit strategies."

Leto had managed to acquire copies of a map of the island. "These might be helpful when you decide on a route, and will enable you to communicate your choice with precision to everyone else." He held the maps up, and offered everyone to take one.

He nodded at Leto once, then turned back to those gathered. "In case of another invasion, we should meet in the park if the threat is dispersed, or at the gates when it seems to be more cohesive. That way, we'll be able to coordinate our strategy accordingly." He nodded at ~~shamelessly modded~~ Zack as well, and let the exercise commence.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! ]]

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"This isn't for real," Ben said.

"What's the difference?" Her tone is conversational, curious even.

Ben almost ran smack into a wall. "I'm not dodging blaster fire, for one," he said.

"I suppose there's that," she allowed as she glanced over at him. "Careful there."

"And I'm not thinking about killing anyone," Ben replied.

"What's to think about?" Triela asked casually as she planted a leaped up onto the edge of a dumpster to throw herself over a fence. In her world it was simple: you killed people. Nothing to think about, really.

Ben stared. "You're killing someone."

Triela didn't break stride, but did slow down a bit to look over at him with a frown. "On orders."

Because that made it all okay.

"Because that makes it okay?" Ben demanded.

"Someone has to decide when the bad guys need to die." Triela shrugged without changing her running pattern. "And it can't be the people pulling the triggers." It couldn't be the weapons.

"Sure it can," Ben declared vehemently. "We're the ones who have to live with it."

Triela shook her head. "It's too dangerous to let a weapon decide what it's aimed at."

"I'm not a weapon, I'm a person!" Ben replied.

Triela thought about that in silence for a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic sound of her boots on the ground. "Then maybe it's different for you," she suggested.

"Why wouldn't it be different for you?" Ben demanded, catching sight of the docks and bolting toward it. "Don't you feel things?"

"Yes. But not about killing. The Conditioning takes care of that. It makes me more effective." With the goal in sight she picked up the pace.

Ben looked absolutely horrified. "They drug you?"

"It's necessary," she answered simply.

"Why?" Ben said, more breathless at this news than the run.

"The drugs are necessary to ensure integration between my cybernetic parts and my natural parts. I'd shut down without them."

"Besides, I'm too dangerous to go unsupervised." The scary part was that she sounded like she really believed that.

"The first part, I buy," Ben said. "The second is a cop out."

"It's true," she said with simple conviction. She was dangerous. They'd made her that way.

Ben pursed his lips. "So without this drug, we'd have to put you down like a rabid animal?"

"I don't think so," Triela frowned. "But it's at least theoretically possible." The Agency hadn't done much (any) testing with taking the girls off the drugs.

"Then you need to take responsibility for what you do," Ben decided. "You're not just a weapon. We don't keep you in the locker until it's time to fight."