Words: 993
cw: language
Taglist: @irnalia, @waysofink, @ashen-crest, @spacetimewraithwrites, @dustylovelyrun, @idreamonpaper, @abalonetea, @jaimistoryteller, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @reininginthefirewriting, @concealeddarkness13, @athenixrose, @asomeoneperson (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)
Beau had been surprised how little Valetta stressed with her hands stuffed inside enough explosives to take out three city blocks. She’d been relatively cool while giving him instructions –even as far as giving him one of her Bluetooth headphones to share the pop song she was listening to.
“So, what’d you think?” She nudged him, undoing the bulk of her blast-suit letting the top half fall to hang around her waist.
“I was impressed with how quickly you were able to disarm it. You’re very good at what you do.” Beau mimicked the energy of her smile.
“No,” she snickered, pulling at the strap of her undershirt to wipe sweat from her face. “I meant the music. What’d you think of the music?”
“Oh!” He pulled the earbud from his ear, handing it back to her. “It’s very bright with romantic undertones. I could see how it would help get rid of stress.”
“So, you don’t like it.”
“Well…”
“It’s okay if you don’t,” she playfully punched his shoulder, “You don’t have to like it just because I do.”
“I didn’t like it,” Beau admitted, following her past the barricades towards the trucks. “I think the voices are too high in pitch for my liking.”
“Fair enough,” she snickered making a sudden glance towards the sidewalk where people were attempting to gather. Officers urged them to keep moving, not to clog up walkways or prevent entry or exit of emergency personnel.
“Hey, Valetta,” a Mediator approached from another truck. Jona Falken, station 1 patrol officer, 31 years old. “You did fantastic out there.”
“Yeah, thanks Jona.” All of Valetta’s energy from earlier seemed to wick away, focusing on getting her gear back on the truck. Beau stood by quietly, watching Jona’s eyes flicker away from Valetta’s face and down her shoulders.
“How long you been doing this now?” He leaned on the side of the truck, an almost predatorial note in the curve of his smile.
“A few years,” was her dry reply. Even Beau detected this interaction wasn’t welcomed. Jona, however, didn’t come with that sensor.
“Officer Falken—” Beau tried.
“You clearly know what you’re doing, and look great doing it. If only you didn’t have piercings and tattoos,” he passed her a sleazy grin, biting his lip with his gaze trained on the ink exposed on her arms.
Valetta shoved her helmet onto the truck with more force than was necessary. “Yeah, too bad, coach. Better take me off the roster.” She sneered, giving Jona a once over. “Probably should go check a different catalog if you want a mail order bride.” The amusement fell from Jona’s face, shock that was quickly replaced with anger.
Beau’s defense protocols readied for action.
“The fuck did you say? You ugly—” he yelped as he was suddenly yanked back from the truck, disappearing as Garnet wedged himself between them.
“Hey man, you good? We got a problem? Huh? You got something you wanna add?” Garnet crowded him with each rapid fire question. “If you have information you need to add, you speak to me. Understand? Me. I don’t want you over here interfering with an operation. What is it –what’a yiz gotta say?”
Jona started to say something only to decide against it and turn away. Garnet hovered until Jona was back with his group on the sidewalk. Valetta shook her head, tossing her gloves onto the truck. “Ah, he was just runnin’ his mouth.”
“Yeah, well, I got tired of hearing that fuckin’ jersey accent.” he turned with a huff, crossing his arms to take Jona’s place leaning on the truck. “And what’re you doing?” he nodded at Beau, “You just gonna stand there and let him talk to her like that?”
“I had him, G.” Valetta passed a sharp glare to Garnet. “It’s not Beau’s fault. He didn’t know.”
“You ever see a human bothering another human, you knock his teeth out. Got it?” He told Beau.
“Stop, don’t tell him that.” Valetta hissed, smacking Garnet’s arm. “You’ll get him in trouble and he’ll end up as bad as you.”
“Just pop ‘em,” Garnet mocked hitting the truck. “Make ‘em eat molars.”
“No, Beau,” Valetta shook her head before sharply turning back to Garnet. “Quit it. He’s gonna believe you.”
“Okay,” Beau smiled, causing Garnet to grin wide enough to flash his titanium canine. “I also scrambled the radio frequency identification of his patrol car keys.” They both stared at him, eyes wide and stunned.
“Alright, Tamagotchi!” Garnet extended a hand over Valetta’s head to welcome a high five. Beau bounced up on his toes to meet it. “Wanna act like a beat cop, gonna walk like a beat cop –ahnno-dat!” He burst with a laugh that sounded more like wheezing air, gripping Beau’s hand giving it a shake. But Valetta didn’t seem convinced.
It wasn’t until much later, after the extraction team had cleaned up and the detectives moved in, they were dismissed to head back to the station. Valetta and Beau rode back with Garnet, passing the solar deck where Officer Falken was angrily pacing on the phone beside his patrol car.
“That’s what he gets,” Garnet cackled.
“That’s what you get!” Beau yelled from the window, Valletta falling over in the backseat, hands covering her face.
“Tell ‘em, Beau. Get him!”
“If I see you bother my friend again, I’ll knock your teeth out!” He leaned from the window, Garnet grabbing the back of his belt so he wouldn’t fall.
“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Garnet choked, trying not to laugh.
“Fuck you guy!” Beau yelled until he was too far away.
“Get back inside. Garnet, get him inside!” Valletta sat up, smacking the plexiglass partition. Garnet pulled him in, gripping the steering wheel as he wheezed laughter.
“Good job, Beau.”
“Yeah,” he turned, smiling. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore, Valetta. He heard what will happen if he does.”
"You have a purpose, an obligation for living in our world." Duras again offered the flash drive. Beau hesitated, considering what she'd said. If it was true, if he was their last chance, what he wanted didn't matter. "Take it. It's what you owe."
"No, you don't!" Garnet's bark startled them, neither aware of his entrance. He was there when he shouldn't have been. Battered, grimy, fighting for air, but he was there. His glare fixed on Beau as if Duras wasn't even in the room. "You don't owe anyone anything. She may have put you here, but that doesn't mean she gets to make decisions for you. You're only purpose is to be you."
When you were being made to do something you didn't want to do and you don't think anyone's coming for you, but then your fuckin' soulmate kicks in the door and says we're going home
TB Drabbles — Street Light Interference Phenomenon
Words: 722
CW: None
(Robots can't figure out a weird human thing so they turn science into a betting game Aka a 4am idea –Also Beau is how I pick sports teams)
Taglist: @everlastinq, @waysofink, @ashen-crest, @spacetimewraithwrites, @dustylovelyrun, @idreamonpaper, @abalonetea, @jaimistoryteller, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @reininginthefirewriting, @concealeddarkness13 (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)
They started the game on September 20th during a station outing at one of the local bars. Without a need to eat, Beau had joined Ives and Mikki on the rooftop to get away from the noise and crowd.
Ives leaned on the railing, watching the sidewalk across the road with more intensity than was typical. "What is it?" Beau asked, leaning as well trying to see.
"These are solar-powered streetlights," Ives said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world. "Each on this street is nearly fully charged with no current damage or connection errors. According to the city grid, they're working perfectly fine."
"Did... did you hack into the city traffic system just for that?"
"We needed to be sure they were working properly," Mikki defended, leaning around to look at him. "We need to know why they stop working when some humans step under them."
Ives nodded along. "I've witnessed two separate pedestrians, one of which must live locally who went down to the convenience store and returned to their apartment. They caused the third light to go out, and on their return, the fifth and seventh. The other pedestrian caused the third to go out as well, but they haven't returned."
"It could be electromagnetic discharge," Mikki speculated. "Perhaps it's dependent on height and the rate the human is able to produce it."
"The range on that would be minimal, wouldn't it? It could be the light simply cycling or caused by a power surge."
They debated it the rest of the night, making Beau begin to wonder. He didn't actually think it to be anything of interest until he witnessed it one night while on shift.
Now it had become common practice, especially when the three of them were together. And while they hadn't been able to come up with a definite answer, they each had their theories, making something of a game from it.
At the holiday party, they all three stood out front of the bar, waiting and watching last-minute shoppers scurry up and down the sidewalks.
"I bet on the tall man," Mikki nodded in the direction of the bundled, bag-littered man who approached from two blocks away. She believed it was static related, theorizing the number of layers, make up of clothing, and height would be a sure winner. Ives surveyed the playing field, expression vacant as he worked.
"The mother with the two children," he finally announced, approaching quicker, and he believed it was some type of timing mechanism in the lights. He expectantly looked to Beau, awaiting his verdict.
However, Beau had a theory he couldn't put into words. It didn't have a definition other than who felt right. Of course, none of them had won the silly game since it started, but Beau wasn't going to change his tactic just yet. He drummed his fingers together in thought before nodding. "That lady with the takeout." She walked hunched and slow, clearly exhausted from whatever she'd been doing.
Ives stared for a moment before nodding. And they waited.
The woman with her children arrived first, passing beneath the stretch of streetlights they monitored without one flickering at all. Ives shifted his weight in disappointment. Mikki and Beau's pick arrived at nearly the same time, passing each other in opposite directions.
Just before they were out of range, the second to last light the woman passed under went completely out. Beau threw his hands in the air, cheering. "Oh! I got one! Let's go!!" he took a victory lap around them.
"Maybe you're right," Mikki said to Ives, "maybe he is hanging around Garnet too much." He merely gestured after Beau as if to say 'you think?'
"Streetlight Champion!" Beau finished his celebration with another bouncing leap. "I won!"
"So, how'd you do it?" Mikki asked, "What do you think causes it?"
"Oh, I don't know," he shrugged, "I just picked her because it felt right. I liked her."
"That's your reason?" Ives threw up his hands, "Not facts or reasoning besides you liked them?" Beau shook his head.
"Doesn't matter, because I won." he shot his fists up in the air once more before turning to head back inside. "I'm getting celebratory oyster crackers!"
"We are never going to hear the end of this..." Mikki shook her head.
@sleepy-night-child had wondered about Ives and Ryker meeting, which happens before TB begins, but it got me thinking, what did that look like? Gay panic, that's what.
Words: 1070
Taglist: @everlastinq, @waysofink, @ashen-crest, @spacetimewraithwrites, @stormharbors, @dustylovelyrun, @idreamonpaper, @abalonetea, @jaimistoryteller, @kaiusvnoir, @writeouswriter, @reininginthefirewriting
(Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)
2031, 10 yrs Before The Main Plot
"Ryker," he looked up from his desk finding Captain Thatcher in the door, "c'mon, BT's here." With a knock on the jamb, he started down the hall towards the back parking lot. Everyone turned to look but no one got up. Not surprising considering no one else was exactly partial to the idea of bringing on Synthetics.
Locking his desk, Ryker got up to follow Thatcher. He almost ran smack into Garnet at the door. Sometime over the weekend, he'd exchanged his locs for cornrows, grinning widely as he peered around Ryker. "Did I miss it yet? Are they here?"
"They're in the parking lot," Ryker sighed, slipping past him.
"Yess," Garnet hissed, following him with rapid, harmless punches to his shoulder. "Oh-ho, this is great. Can't wait to see this. I hope you get the most bugged one they got."
"C'mon, Garnet, really?"
"I'm talkin' dialup days. Lag everywhere. Watch'et come with a power cord."
"Don't come out here."
"Y'know I gots'ta." He even hurried ahead, backing into the door to hold open. Ryker squinted in the sun, shooting Garnet a glare as he stepped out into the parking lot. Beneath the solar panel canopies, a number of sleek cars were parked, each adorned with BloomingTech's golden logo. A woman in a white pantsuit stood beside Thatcher and the station's Commander, holding an umbrella as she chatted.
Beside her stood a short humanoid A.I., with most of its mechanics showing from under the panels that made up its upper face. They were similar to most units Ryker had worked with while in the military, having partial human-like features with either transparent paneling or lacking sections, hair, and too large of eyes.
Wearing a suit as well, they stepped forwards, passing a case to their Commander before back in line with the woman with the umbrella. He recognized her now, Ms. Duras, CEO of BloomingTech who had offered the opportunity.
"Ryker," Thatcher waved him over, stepping aside with a hitch as he noticed Garnet. "I'm sure you remember Ms. Duras."
"I do. How are you, ma'am?" Ryker offered her a hand.
"Wonderful," she took it, shaking firmly. "I'm so excited and thankful for this opportunity. I'm also honored to have you on board with this, I know you've had experience with A.I. during your service. I couldn't ask for a better match!"
"Thank you," Ryker chuckled, glancing over at the A.I. "I don't think there's going to be any issue at all. I'm familiar with these kinds of units."
"Oh, no," she giggled, "this is my personal assistant. One moment." She turned to the line of cars, waving. Another suit-wearing man stepped out from the lead car, rushing around to the back door to open. "IV5 was designed on a commission base, originally designed for military use, but, with the relatively stable situation of the world, there isn't necessarily a need."
Ryker had gone deaf.
The BloomingTech agent stepped aside, holding the door open as IV5 ducked to get out of the car. At first, Ryker thought they were just another agent, nothing about their initial appearance giving clues that this was a Synthetic. It was his movements that gave him away.
Fixing the black blazer of his suit he scanned the parking lot, pale and blank-faced, something a little too smooth and level about the movement. He was tall, dark hair slicked back to neat standard, face square and clean-shaven.
Well, duh. I doubt he shaves. Ryker mentally scolded himself, realizing he was staring and trying to avert his attention back to Duras.
"Oh, shit..." he heard Garnet mutter behind him.
"We've adjusted the initial programming to better suit him in de-escalating confrontation. IV5 is programmed to be logical, pragmatic, and preventative. Cataloged with the understanding of all weapon and vehicle grades, his top priorities are civilian and team safety. He has infrared, with a lift range of up to 1.5 tons and a top speed of 55 mph." Duras waved this away with a wrinkle of her nose, turning to look at IV5 as he stepped up beside them.
"IV5, this is going to be your new team here at Station Six. This is Captain Thatcher," she motioned to him. Thatcher offered out a hand, IV5 looking at it for a moment before extending his own.
Up close IV5 was somehow more and less human all at once. His face looked like a face, not silicone or paneling. He had pores, individual eyebrow hairs, eyelashes. Eyelashes for days. But there was something off about his eyes, possibly too large. If only just barely. But they were blue, vivid, like cornflowers.
"And this is going to be your partner, Officer Ryker."
Ryker barely heard his name, stuttering as IV5 turned to extend the gesture. "Oh, uh, yeah –hey," It took him a moment to remember he had hands, catching the first, faint note of expression on IV5's face as his brows rose, staring expectedly. "Nice to meet you," Ryker finally shook his hand. His grip wasn't too tight and far too real.
"There is no need to be nervous, Officer Ryker," IV5 spoke, clear and low. "I'm sure my presence will take time to become accustomed to, but I assure you there is no reason to be anxious."
I am made of anxious, bright-eyes.
"Alright," Ryker chuckled, remembering he was still shaking his hand and quickly let go.
"Might as well go ahead and take him inside," Thatcher sighed, nodding in the direction of the building. Ryker turned, surprised to find Garnet was nowhere to be seen. His absence was quickly explained, however, at the many faces plastered in the window, scrambling over one another once they were spotted.
"Y-yeah, come on in and meet everyone," Ryker waved IV5 on, having to keep waving him along to walk beside him. "So, you got a name?"
"I have no designation."
"Oh, well do you have one you want me to call you?"
"I will respond to whatever you prefer."
"Well, okay then," Ryker paused at the door, not yet opening it. "What about Ives?" He tried a smile in case a joking tone was needed to avoid insult.
"Ives?" IV5's mouth turned down faintly.
"Yeah, like IV5, but you... like you make the 5 an S?" IV5's eyes became distant, Ryker not entirely sure IV5 wasn't X-raying through the wall.
"Ives," he announced with a nod. "My name is Ives."
CW: Gun Violence, Language, Abduction, Abuse, Blood
3395 Words
Tag List: @everlastinq, @ashen-crest, @waysofink (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)
The clock is ticking to find Ryker, but as the team moves in on what they think is his location, Ives senses trouble. Spiteful, Captain Royston refuses to believe him, leaving Ives to decide if he should listen to data or intuition. With a team committed to Royston, Ives finds support in the strangest possible place.
They had Ryker’s possible location. The address of the warrant had floorplans with an 87% match to the interior layout of the hostage tape, and a 93% network match through the VPN chain. With orders to raid that night, they were within the statistical time limit of probable survival. They had a 79% chance of finding Ryker alive –if they had the correct location.
Ives finished with his gear, strapping on his helmet and heading to the armory. His locker was filled with his pre-approved weaponry for this mission: a shotgun with breaching rounds, lighted rifle, handgun, and the typical electroshock pistol. His shield lie on the shelf below.
He barely heard the sharp whistle.
Royston appeared beside him, glaring, jaw set. When Ives didn’t instantly drop what he was doing, Royston stretched out an arm, snapping fingers in his face. “I’m talking to you,” he demanded.
Ives nodded that he was listening as he synced to his weapons, pulling them one by one from their place to holster to his gear. “Look, I don’t know if it’s true. If –if Ryker had a thing for you, if you knew about it, hell, if you do too, but this is a mission. A job. You go out there just as professional as always if you expect to tag along.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Captain.” Ives leveled, not wasting time on addressing him with a stare.
“I mean behave out there. Regardless of what we find. No personal vendetta, got it? You do your job. You do your job like you're supposed to. No off-the-wall shit. No rogue antics. You might not be on my squad, but you are still part of my team.”
Ives wheeled on him, locking eyes and holding contact for a moment. Royston swallowed uneasily. “Captain, it’s my highest priority to protect those at our station. Ryker falls within those bounds and that’s what I’m going to do. It’s what I’m here to do. What I’m made to do. I suggest you don’t get in my way.”
“W-wh—” Royston blinked widely, “what the hell did you say?”
“Hey! Everything alright in here?” Garnet’s bark from the door caused Royston to turn, still blindsided as he fumbled to focus. He started to say something until he recognized Garnet, mouth hanging open stupidly. “You gonna stand here all night Captain, or you gonna fuckin’ do something? We have a hostage situation going on. No time for locker room gossip.” He motioned down the hall with a bewildered look.
Royston turned to give Ives one last glare before storming to the hall. His attempt to shoulder Garnet out of the way was for naught, rebounding between him and the door like a pinball. Garnet didn’t budge, scowling with a shake of the head as Royston went on his way. Muttering curses rose into shouting orders as he found the rest of the team.
Leaning on the doorframe, Garnet slowly turned his head to look at Ives. He lingered, appearance much more intimidating in the breaching gear. Bulkier, heavier, helmet shadowing his face elevating his glare from acidic to lethal. He scanned Ives up and down before offering a nod, “Let’s get it, Shitbox.” Leisurely straightening himself from the wall, he went on his way.
Ives stared at the empty doorway trying to process why Garnet had interjected into their conversation. Even if he had heard from the hallway, why had he taken an almost defensive position against Royston? And in favor of anyone, why Ives?
-03:59:59 CRITICAL SURVIVAL TIMEOUT
The alert in his HUD ended his pondering. They were now under four hours until the chances of finding Ryker alive plummeted. Taking his shield and closing his locker, Ives made his way to the briefing group.
Each team staged at a location nearby the apartment complex, doing what they could to stay out of sight and not alert any GodHead affiliates. Now able to see the building, Ives compared it to that from the hostage tape.
It was a twenty-story complex, registered with the city to occupy 340 rooms. Comparing information with images and video uploaded to the internet by tenants and the apartment’s PR staff, Ives calculated the building had far more space than what was occupied. With the included gym, lobby, halls, elevator, and other necessary maintenance rooms, there should have been space for 360 rooms.
“Captain,” he whispered around to Royston, who pretended not to hear. “Sir, there’s something not right about our information.” Officers around them turned their attention curiously.
“What are you going on about?” Royston scoffed.
“There are too few rooms registered for the square footage of the building. At least, the twenty stories here. Even the studio rooms are far too small to match that of the video.” The three officers that were crammed between Royston and Ives glanced back and forth, heads volleying as they waited for Royston’s suggestion.
“You think this isn’t the place? I thought you were sure at the station. Which is it?”
“I believe this is the right place, per the VPN trail to this IP address. But I don’t think it came from any of the floors. I believe there may be more substory levels.” Royston finally turned to look at him, narrow face skewed in disgust.
“Remind me to have you sent in for maintenance, Ives. There are no substory levels on this building. If there were, it’d be registered with the city.” He huffed a chuckle through his nose, “I thought you were supposed to be smarter than that.” Quickly searching for the zoning paperwork, Ives found Royston was correct. There were no registered in-ground floors besides a boiler room and storage space.
But Ives couldn’t shake the idea.
Valetta came over the radio, alerting them she was able to jam all signals coming out of the building. It was their cue to move. “Stick to your orders, Ives. Like we talked about,” Royston reminded, pulling down his visor and signaling them to move.
Out from the bushes of a neighboring parking lot, they rushed for the lobby entrance. As they burst through the front door, their sister unit moved in through the back exit. No doubt, as synchronized as they were, the third team was making their entrance from the roof.
Into the lobby they moved in a wave, ordering everyone to the floor, securing the doors, and starting for the first rooms. Ives moved with the team going door to door, checking the interiors for any clue of Ryker. They were too small. The more rooms they checked, the more Ives knew he was right. He continued along with his team, more interested in doorways that weren’t labeled as rooms.
Someone jarred into his shoulder as they passed in the hall. He dismissed them as someone from another unit until he was seized by an arm. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Garnet thumbed the visor of his helmet out of his face, “I thought you said this was the place. These rooms look a whole lot nicer than the poured cement on film.”
You do your job. Royston’s voice echoed.
PRIORITY – FIND RYKER
PRIORITY – STICK TO YOUR UNIT
>Delete?
“I have cause to believe there’s a basement,” Ives admitted.
“What?”
“Floors below.” Garnet didn’t look at him the same as Royston had, it wasn’t anger hardening his brow. He glanced around before his gaze went to the floor as if lost in thought. Nodding, he turned back the way he’d come.
STICK TO YOUR UNIT DELETED
Ives followed him past vending rooms and bathrooms to an unlabeled door. Garnet tried the knob, locked. It was steel like most other maintenance rooms, only this one didn’t have a keypad like the others. Throwing his weight against it without any luck, Garnet finally stepped back.
“Think you can get it open?” He motioned to it, awkwardly hooking his hands on his hips. Ives found no hinges, meant to open inward, another abnormality. Touching the knob he followed electric pulses leading to a lock panel on the other side of the door.
“It’s locked from the inside.”
“Oh, that’s not suspicious.” Garnet snorted.
“Step aside,” Ives gently pressed him away, withdrawing a step before jamming his heel into the center of the door. It shrieked, echoing a pop down the hall as the brace-bar in the center gave way and the entire door fell inwards, screeching as it slid down several stories of cement steps.
“That’s more like it– nnk!” Garnet started down, nearly gagging as Ives pulled him back by the rear of his breaching vest. “The fuck man?”
“Stay behind me. I’m on point.” Ives drew out his rifle and started down the stairs. Garnet grumbled in protest but followed.
“Beau, we’re headed downstairs. To the basement,” he radioed on their comms readying his sidearm. "Yeah, I didn't know there was a basement either. I'm following Ives." They came to a landing with a windowed door, Ives carefully prying it open, weapon first, and stepped inside. It was true to blueprints, a boiler room connected to a carefully cooled server room. Garnet stuck close, no longer complaining about their pace as Ives meticulously cleared each room. Confirming it was empty, they continued down the flight to the next floor finding a heavier door with no window.
“Hey, if we get fired for this, and they tear you down for parts, d’you think I could get the cash from you to pay my bills?” Garnet whispered.
“As optimistic as always, Lieutenant.” Ives rolled his eyes, slowly opening the door.
It was another, smaller hallway, lined by doors marked with little numbered plates. Ives waited, listening, trying to keep his predictions and processes from running wild with possibilities. Scanning for signatures he took one step inside, Garnet leaning out around him with a feral chuckle. “Here we are. Good call, Shitbox.”
One of the doors opened, bassy music spilling out as a young man stepped into the hall. Ives dropped his gun, swapping out for his electropistol. The boy spotted them, falling on his backside in his scramble to get back in his room, effectively dodging Ives’ shot. With a yelping warning, he slammed the door behind him. The music went silent.
“A little late buddy,” Garnet slid around Ives, pounding knocks into the door, “come on out. We just wanna talk.”
A door to Ives’ left burst open, gunman diverting his aim from Garnet to Ives at the last moment, not expecting to find him there. Ives knocked his gun aside, the desperate shot rupturing air pressure beside his head. It was deafening with nowhere to go between cement walls.
AUDIOS DEACTIVATED
Knocking them to the ground, Ives rendered them useless with his electropistol. He whipped around, processes rearranging in a dance of flickering in his HUD as Garnet’s safety became priority. Two doors near the end of the hall flew open, a gunman in each peering out from the entrance to fire. Ives rushed forwards, yanking Garnet behind him as bullets hammered into his shoulder, another burrowing into a panel on his arm.
COMPONENT #3443 DAMAGED
ILLEGAL AMMUNITION DETECTED
.50 CAL ANTI-MATERIAL ROUNDS
An instant sooner and they would have pierced Garnet’s vest, capable of tearing through military-grade armor, fatal for the Lieutenant. Ives caught one of the gunmen with his electropistol. The other yanked their door too, but not before Garnet rolled in a stun grenade.
|Beau, we have shots fired in the basement. At least fourteen anti-armor gunmen. They must be hiding something down here. I’m going to get Garnet to cover.|
|I’m on my way.|
Another gunman emerged from an open room, toting a high-powered machine gun. Ives was momentarily distracted as he caught a new reading, a heartbeat in the room at the end of the hall, so frail and slow it was nearly drowned out by the others. He was still too far away for a biometric scan to confirm who it belonged to.
Reaching over his shoulder he freed his shield, bullets caught his sleeves, a few grating his arm and neck before he could shield them from the barrage of bullets. Garnet pressed a hand to Ives’ back, falling in behind him. The hand moved, grabbing the sling of his rifle, Garnet heaving it to his shoulder. At the first break in shots, he leaned around Ives’ shield landing a shot. The gunman stumbled back, piling in the floor.
AUDIOS ACTIVATED
“–at your six!” Garnet barked. Glancing over his shoulder, he found Garnet downing the first resident that had come out of their room. They jerked from the shock before going still. Three others bolted from the room, making a rush for the door. Pivoting, Ives seized Garnet’s electropistol, downing the lot of them.
Besides the groaning, it was still.
“Ugh, I had them,” Garnet snapped, yanking the pistol back from him. “I’m fucking breach trained too—”
“I’ve got a heartbeat,” Ives announced, ignoring him. “Room at the end of the hall. Seven individuals,” taking back his rifle he started towards it.
“Beau, we may have a positive. Second substory. Room B7,” Garnet relayed, swapping out for his own rifle as well, following. “Right behind you, Shitbox.”
|Ives, give me five minutes. I’ll meet you there with backup.| Beau begged, still lost somewhere upstairs with his unit.
|No, I’m not waiting another second.|
Come on, buddy. I need you. Ryker’s words played over and over inside his processor. Faint things he’d barely been able to grasp through the BIOSerker virus’s haze. Now they were a reality. After days of hunting, Ryker could be on the other side of this door. If they weren’t too late.
-01:33:56 CRITICAL SURVIVAL TIMEOUT
Backup was still fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes. A difference between life and death.
Dropping his rifle onto the slack of its sling, Ives pulled his breaching shotgun from his back, jamming the barrel to the door lock. And if Ryker wasn’t alive? If he didn’t make it? If Ives was too late? What then?
At his hesitation, Garnet stepped up beside him, touching his shoulder. Ives broke from the scrolling list of outcomes, glancing to him, half expecting to find a sneer. Instead, Garnet held eye contact, a flat grin with a nod. “Let’s get it, Shitbox. Either way, give’em hell.” He took half a step back, readying his gun.
Please, Ives.
He squeezed the trigger splintering the lock. Screams went up, shots fired as he kicked the door in. The first thing he saw was the battered form of Ryker curled against the baseboards, wrists cuffed to bare pipes exposed in the wall.
KERNEL DATA ERROR
Bullets ate into Ives’ shoulder and vest, clacking off his helmet. “Shit, Ives, get with it!” Garnet leaned around him, downing the first man in the room. The list of priorities in his HUD crashed, every assisting program going dark. Ives overrode the attempted restart, turning his shotgun on the first attacker who charged, and blasting a breaching round through them. He flipped the gun around, grabbing it by the barrel to swing across the next attacker’s head.
Throwing it, he knocked another in the head, sending their unconscious form tripping over their camera and terminal setup. Two charged him, bellowing and snarling. He caught one by an arm, snapping before slinging them into their partner. Their writhing gave him enough time to reach for his electroshock pistol. Firing into each of them, he bought himself ten minutes of temporary paralysis.
It was silent.
I don’t know how to start down this road if you’re not here.
Ives didn’t want to scan the room. Didn’t want to turn around. He instantaneously wanted to know Ryker’s vitals as much as he didn’t. All he could do was stare at Garnet who was frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth fallen open, horrifically silent. When Ives had seen the live-stream, he couldn’t imagine being more scared, but there, in that silent moment, in the same room, unsure if Ryker was dead or alive, he was overloaded with the feeling.
“God… you’re fast,” Ryker wheezed. Alive.
Ives stumbled a pivot, dropping his weapon. Ryker smirked from his huddled place, one eye swollen shut, a hand twitching in some weary attempt of a wave around the pipes.
|Ives—?!|
DISCONNECTED
He shut off all external connections. Everything.
Half tripping he reeled to catch himself in his way over debris to Ryker. His rifle scraped the ground, dragging as he slid to his knees. Ryker was littered with scrapes and bruises, lacerations on his brow and chin, clothes dirty and torn from scuffles and assault. Ives couldn’t process what to say, only able to look from one injury to the next.
PRIORITY– FIND RYKER
COMPLETE
MISSION SUCCESS
“Hey Bright-eyes,” Ryker’s voice was barely such, smiling as he scanned Ives’ face. “You’re okay… I’m so glad you’re okay.” He winced a laugh, moisture gathering in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Ives.”
“No. There’s… You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” He took care in reaching for Ryker’s hands, grasping the outer edge of the cuffs to prevent them from digging into skin as he snapped the chain apart. Lowering his arms caused Ryker to hiss, face contorted in pain as he drew his arms close to himself. “You’re badly injured. How much did you smart off to make them this angry with you?”
“Smarting off? You know me...” Ryker chuckled with another wince. He was ever gradually sinking to one side, sliding as if he could no longer hold himself up.
“I’m taking you to a hospital.” Ives was finally aware of the ground beneath him, calibrating his footing well enough to move closer to better support Ryker. He lurched, tensing as if startled, looking to the door. Ives turned to check as well, reaching for a sidearm in case of more gunmen. It was only Garnet stepping in to begin making arrests. “You’re safe now,” Ives whispered, soothing his tone as he slid a hand between Ryker and the wall. “I’m going to get you to a hospital. You’ll be alright. I’ve got you.”
Ives carefully adjusted him, startling when Ryker went completely limp, diving into the chest of his vest. “Ryker?” Ives tilted, cradling his head as it flopped backward. His eyes weren’t completely closed, unfocused and unseeing. “Hadrian?!”
“He’s passed out,” Garnet whispered, suddenly kneeling beside them. He pressed a hand to Ryker’s neck, nodding after a moment. “He’s still gotta pulse. He’s alive, just passed out.”
Ives nodded along even if he didn’t entirely believe Garnet. How could he know? How was he sure without a heartbeat sensor? An electromagnetic reader? A—?
“Hey, look at me. Look at me, Ives. Eye contact,” reluctantly he did so, tearing his stare from Ryker to look Garnet in the eyes. “He’s gonna be alright, okay? We need to get him upstairs to a medic. Can you carry him?”
“Yes,” he calculated his bearings, Garnet helping him gather Ryker up, sure to tuck his head against his shoulder. He stood with Ives, still speaking calmly.
“Down the hall, up the stairs, to the lobby –just don’t drop him.”
Ives rebooted his HUD, creating his own new list of priorities.
> Down the hall.
> Up the stairs.
> To the lobby.
> Do not drop him.
He staggered around unconscious bodies for the hall finding Beau entering from the stairwell. Starting to ask what had happened, he stepped aside to let Ives by.
“You get him help," Garnet called behind him, "Beau and I will handle things here. If you see Royston, tell him I said to fuck off!” Ives barely heard him. He took care in carrying Ryker up the stairs, minding his head to keep from knocking him against the walls. He was motionless, draped completely against Ives' chest. It took all of his concentration to keep his footing on the stairs, finally reaching the lobby where a number of officers had people lining the walls, searching and questioning residents.
Royston emerged from a huddle of officers, face already pinched with a frown. Ives beat him to it, flashing his own teeth-baring snarl, “Stay the fuck away from me.” It was enough to stop Royston in his tracks, speechless.
Holding Ryker closer, Ives made a bee-line for the red pulses of an ambulance outside.
@ashen-crest requesting some Put In Rice from this Tag Game
This was like one of the very first bits I wrote for TB in the days before any Beau/Garnet softness was even considered. It's the first time they have to work together and Ryker's a little worried considering how Garnet treats him. When they finally get back Ryker isn't happy about Beau's condition. Garnet sees no issue.
Ryker was just about to radio out when he heard the metallic hiss of a motorcycle pulling into the lot. Squinting from under the awning, he was relieved to find there were two riders. It coasted to the curb, Beau’s hair drenched and stuck to his forehead, chattering loudly to the yellow helmet.
“Captain,” he noticed Ryker, waving. “You were right, sir. We found the car. We've linked all four robberies!" He cheered, nearly tripping on his face as he dismounted the bike.
“Hell yeah!” Garnet lifted his visor, snorting laughter.
“Yeah! Hell yeah!” Feeding off Garnet’s humor, and the success of their mission, he trotted up the steps, beaming with a smile. There were a few smears of black on his chin and cheeks, a scrape along his jaw exposing the framework underneath. A dark stain on the shoulder of his jacket was also apparent.
“Easy there, boy scout. You’re leaking TLN.” Ryker pointed to his jacket, wincing as he took a closer look at his face.
“I got shot!”
“What?!”
“Oh, it was like one time,” Garnet defended. “And he said he was fine!”
“I can still move my arm.” To demonstrate, Beau wagged his elbow up and down, only causing the black stain to grow in the cloth of his jacket.
“Good God, Beau. Stop doing that –get inside and see Mikki before you bleed out everywhere.”
“He said he was fine!”
Ryker tapped his wrist against the door, unlocking it and ushering Beau inside. “You did great, just go get patched up.” He quickly closed the door behind him. “I said to make sure nothing happened to him. Did you raid that house?”
“Do I look stupid?”
“From here, yes!”
“You said to bring him back in one piece. He’s in one piece!”
Lora wasn't sure exactly when the beeping started but noticed it around the time she finished pouring her coffee. She leaned back to check the microwave, tilting her head in hopes of pinpointing the source.
"Is that Valetta or Beau?" She called.
"It's me," Valetta answered from down the hall. "My leg fell off."
"Do you need any help?"
"Nope. I got it." Lora finished the brew before stepping out to check on her. Beau was crouched in the hall beside Valetta, offering help as she fit the prosthetic back on. "I got a new grip and it's garbage."
"Is it beeping because it's hurt?"
"Nah, it's just telling me it's upside down." She twisted it at the knee, turning it completely around causing Beau to lean back as his face went slack. Had he been human with a cardiovascular system, Lora was sure he would have blanched.
"Oh, hey, my grandma had one of these," Valetta chuckled from her side of the room, "Garnet you remember these?" Beau assumed it wasn't the suspected explosive item she was pointing to on the bookshelf as Garnet waltzed over. He finished his message to Dispatch, laughing as he picked the item up.
"Oh man, yeah. These were everywhere when I was a kid." It was a dark cylinder, shorter and wider than the standard can of soup. "People were freaking out to have these things in their house, and now look where we're at." He motioned to Beau, noticing he was watching. "Hey, come say hey to your grandma."
"Garnet, don't," Valetta jabbed him in the side. Beau glanced at Ryker in the kitchen before making his way over to Garnet, curious as to what he was referencing."
"Yeah, see? You're an A.I., this is an A.I. It's your grandma. Say hey, granny." He plopped it in Beau's hand, grinning. Turning it over in study, Beau took a moment to try and understand.
"This is a virtual assistant," he announced. "I don't believe there is any relation to me."
"Is that how you respect your elders?"
"Leave him alone," Valetta swatted Garnet's shoulder, taking the cylinder to place back on the shelf. "I can't take you anywhere."
