She flinches at it.
I drop the smile.
In hindsight, I should not be the one in a front-facing position. While my leadership skills are optimal for soldiers. I lack the soft touch these traumatized civilians need.
"Can you find them?" she asks, desperation straining her voice.
I scan the growing crowd. Dozens are waiting in line, shifting from foot to foot, pleading eyes on me. I’m their ticket to salvation. Their lifeline. More arrive every minute, and the flow will not slow down.
My military training as a Prime Alpha is clear. No special treatment. No exceptions. Resources and attention must be distributed evenly, or the entire operation risks collapsing.
And yet… her eyes are still on me.
I hesitate. Halley’s sweet face flickers in my mind, and I can almost hear the disappointment in her voice if I told her I ignored a plea for help from someone this vulnerable.
Damn Omega has changed me irrevocably.
I grudgingly accept that I’m about to bend the rules.
And that’s okay.
Prime Alpha Knox of the Fathim army no longer exists. I am not here as a soldier under orders. I am here as a volunteer. I have no Commander to answer to. I am my own Alpha, and I will decide the path I take.
I make a notation on the intake form and I call for one of the volunteers. They aren't soldiers, but civilians who have stepped up to aid in the evacuation.
“Yes, Prime Alpha Knox?” he asks, his voice timid, his gaze fixed somewhere near my boots.
I am not trying to intimidate him. I simply do not know how to turn it off.
“Search our records for…” I glance down at the form, scanning for the name.
The handwriting is a messy scrawl I can barely make out. It tells me what I already suspected. This young woman has never received a formal education.
How far has Fathim fallen if we cannot even teach our people to write their own names?
I feel cheated. The oath I swore to protect this land now feels cheap and tarnished.
I have given my entire life to fighting the Human invasion, believing every drop of blood spilled was in service of a righteous cause. I told myself the slaughter was justified, that I was defending a prosperous homeland worth protecting.
Two hundred and eighty-nine soldiers died under my command at Dunefold Fortress. They laid down their lives for their fellow Demi-humans. But while they fought and bled, who was protecting their families from the rot eating away at the inside of our country? Who protected them from the corruption within?
They gave the ultimate sacrifice. And our government failed to uphold their end of the oath.
Frustration burns through me, a hot pulse under my skin. My Alpha wants to growl, to bare its teeth.
I swallow it back down.
"... Mia Proudfoot," the girl supplies her name with a quiver in her voice.
I nod, amend the file, and pass it to the assistant.
"Search our intake records for Miss Proudfoot's family. If they came through here, find where they were sent and reunite them," I say, trying not to provide too much hope.
Even if her kin somehow survived the initial attack on their homes, they may have encountered Human forces on their journey here. Most likely, they never made it this far. I wish I could give her an immediate answer, but everything here is being done in analog.
Shade’s tech-obsessed heart practically stopped when he realized there was no database. Every name and record, all on paper. It was almost worth the chaos to see him chastise Prime Alpha Zero before storming off with his tablet, muttering underhis breath. I have no doubt he will have a functioning system in place before nightfall.
“Thank you… thank you so much, Mister Alpha,” she gushes, relief softening her thin shoulders.
