Page 120 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

With every file I add, our chances of defending against the enemy look slimmer and slimmer. A small shred of hope keeps me digging. What if the next file I pull up has details on where to find a cache of rockets, artillery shells, and mortars?

Jason exhales and stretches his arms above his head, his back clicking obnoxiously before he settles back into his chair and glances at me. "We’ve been up all night, you should go get some rest."

"I'm not going if you're staying," I reply, raising a challenging brow. "Can't have you calling me soft behind my back."

Jason’s mouth quirks.

When I first met Halley's friends, I didn't think I'd like them. I saw them as competition for her affection. A place where she could escape from us.

Now, I'm pleased to call them my friends too. They're even starting to become something I might call family.

Both Everlyn and Jason have been instrumental in keeping our Pack safe and, recently, this army from failing.

"Knox wants a list of assets to run through before the war council this afternoon," he says. "That translates into 'no sleep for data monkeys'."

The war council is, in practice, a collection of everyone with even a passing interest in leading this army. Knox knows exactly what he is doing by bringing them in. Once they get a proper look at the state the General left things in, they are far more likely to back off than challenge him for command.

I exhale on a dry laugh, "Am I supposed to guess that we're those monkeys?"

"Correct. Now this monkey needs a banana and another coffee for breakfast, want anything from the mess hall?" he asks with a loopy grin derived from a lack of sleep and too much caffeine.

"Nah." I shake my head and then pause. "But if you see Halley, send her my way?"

Jason's grin widens as he gives me a thumbs up, rambling to himself even as he departs the Comms Office.

"Ah, to be newly mated. I remember it fondly, Everlyn used to do this thing with her…" his voice trails away with him down the corridor, and I'm glad I don't have a fresh explicit mental image of my friends.

I'm hoping he runs into Halley so I can have a visitor. I have to keep working, but I miss my Omega like crazy. I want to kiss the tip of her nose and bury my face in her lavender-scented hair before I force myself through another few hours of dry spreadsheets and poorly written supply logs.

I know that if I don't get some sleep soon, I'll end up in the infirmary from burnout, even if my healing is enhanced thanks to our Pack.

The mention of the infirmary triggers my thoughts to slide.

It happens without my consent, my exhausted mind helpless to stop the surge of panic.

Two weeks.

Pregnant Omega.

The possibility. The might. The maybe.

Halley could be pregnant at this very moment, and this knowledge is sitting in the middle of the Pack like an unexploded device.

Logic tells me there’s no use building plans for pregnancy before we have confirmation. Plans require correct information, and right now we have nothing but a timeline and fear.

I repeat that to myself as if repetition will make it stick. I cannot make a plan yet.

It doesn’t work because my mind keeps returning to a question none of us know the answer to. Are we ready for a baby? If she is pregnant, the future becomes real in a way we’ve never allowed ourselves to imagine, and I’m not sure the members of Scorch Squad deserve to have it after all the killing we've done.

A soft chime cuts through my spiral. Jason’s datapad lights up with a priority flag. I leap out of my chair and dash into one of the side rooms.

This is what we've been waiting for.

A machine is manned by one of Jason's soldiers, headphones clapped over his ears.

I lean over the soldier's shoulder, eyes narrowing as I read the screen.

"Where am I looking?" I ask him, and he points to a recurring spike in the waveforms, and then at the time stamps.