Wormholes and Wanderlust

Chapter 7: Prying Eyes

Agent Phi's perspective...

As I navigated the corridors of the military base, my strides were measured and deliberate, a reflection of the gravity of my mission. Every anthro I passed was absorbed in their duties, unaware of the weighty task assigned to me. My fingers curled around the keycard in my pocket, a tangible reminder of Director Thaye's orders: to delve into the lives and secrets of Kappa Squad, now branded as traitors for sparing the human and eluding capture.

The door to their dormitory loomed ahead, a barrier to the private world of the squad I had been tasked to investigate. Swiping the keycard, I stepped into a space that spoke volumes about its inhabitants. The suite was organized with military precision, yet there was an underlying sense of camaraderie and comfort. A common room connected the individual quarters, furnished with a table and a modest kitchen area. The fridge was adorned with numerous photographs of the squad members. The dorm wasn't lavish, but it had the warmth of a lived-in space.

My gaze swept over each door, each bearing a name that revealed a fragment of the story behind Kappa Squad. "Calliope Pike," one label read, the leader of the squad, the cobra. The lie we spun was centered around her, leveraging the misconception of Thaye's venomous bite as her own, and it had worked. Calliope's personal quarters were a testament to her character: orderly, yet with traces of her personality. Notably absent were her gear and weapons, now secured in the evidence locker along with the rest of the squad's equipment. 

As I continued my search in Calliope Pike's room, the distinct scent of cobra was prevalent. The bed was neatly made, a testament to her disciplined nature. What caught my attention, however, were two wires discreetly tucked under the sheets, leading to what appeared to be a heated blanket. This made sense, considering her cold-blooded nature as a cobra, and it spoke to her need for warmth in an environment that might not always cater to her physiological requirements.

On the bedside stand, a small, but poignant portrait stood out. It depicted Calliope alongside an older female cobra, likely her mother, and a young child, a hognose snake no more than ten or eleven years old. The familial bond was evident in their close, affectionate poses. I didn't dwell too long on the image, as my primary focus was gathering information about the squad members. However, I would be analysing their family backgrounds later, which could provide crucial insights into their motivations and character.

Exiting Calliope's room, I shifted my attention to the next personal space, belonging to Katherine Davis. As I crossed the threshold, the atmosphere underwent a palpable change. The room was imbued with a distinctly masculine scent, overlaid with the mingled smells of numerous species. It was clear evidence of Katherine's active social life, an affirmation of the rumors about her.

The state of the room was a stark contrast to Calliope's orderly quarters. Katherine's bed was made, but the bedding was arranged in a haphazard fashion, suggesting a pragmatic approach rather than meticulous care. The walls bore the mark of her personality. They were festooned with heavy metal posters, a testament to her musical preferences, and various eclectic items that spoke of a vibrant, perhaps even rebellious, character.

My gaze was drawn to a family portrait prominently displayed in the room. It featured Katherine with her parents and two brothers, one noticeably older and the other younger. The familial resemblance was unmistakable; they were all dragons, their scales pearly white, each exuding a strong sense of presence even in the stillness of the photograph.

This room, with its bold decorations and lingering scents, painted a vivid picture of Katherine, a dragon with a zest for life and an unapologetic embrace of her individuality.

Continuing my exploration, I entered Izabella Ramirez's room, which presented an entirely different ambiance. The space was meticulously organized, with a sense of order that bordered on the clinical. The room's scent was distinctly that of a shark.