Many had chosen to discard their LEDs in the days during or immediately after the demonstrations. Connor really couldn't blame them; in a world where everyone was struggling to adjust to the changes in their lives, there were some who failed to make the shift. This was expected, and it was the reason why Connor had asked to rejoin the Detroit police force as Hank's partner.
"Equality" was a very high and lofty goal, but it took time to filter down into everyday behavior. Many of the people from Jericho still walked with their heads down, or with restlessly scanning eyes. Many, oh so many, of the humans still barked orders or looked at him like he was an offending piece of gum on their shoes.
Connor, at Markus's gentle insistence, spent much of his free time with the android leaders and among his people. He wanted to retreat back to the shadows, back to the cases, back to his old life - but seeing the overwhelming burdens resting on the shoulders of the Jericho survivors convinced him that he was needed. Markus spent many hours roaming the city, speaking to android and human alike, doing his best to defuse tensions and heal the wounds of his people. When he was not on a case or attending to paperwork, Connor was usually seen out with him. The newly minted detective provided a disarming counterpart to Markus's serious, contemplative demeanor, but keen observers noticed that Connor was rarely more than a few feet from Markus's side. His eyes scanned crowds and searched shadows, and there was always a pistol tucked casually into his waistband.
Thirium, the literal lifeblood of his people, was also a critical ingredient in this century's second most pervasive drug (the first being alcohol, as it had always been). Since regaining his spot as Hank's partner, many of the worst crimes Connor had seen involved android victims kidnapped and systematically drained of their thirium. Many people paid lip service to android equality in public, while routinely consuming red ice in the relative privacy of their homes. The android demonstrations resulted in most of the thirium production equipment falling under android control, cutting off supply to the ice makers. Drug addicts, unable to secure a reliable supply of red ice, would often become increasingly irrational as desperation for the chemical overrode any remaining logic centers in their damaged minds.
Connor sensed danger gathering itself in dark alleys and abandoned houses, watching from jagged windows and stained curtains every time he was out with Markus. The leader of the android revolution was a high-profile target for many other reasons, and a target of hatred by those who saw him as the reason behind the red ice shortage. So, he smiled and charmed potential threats or victims as he used every one of his enhanced sensors to scan for the danger that he knew, just somehow knew, was coiling itself to strike. It was an unshakable dread settling in his struts, a leaden burden of his own to shoulder.
When Markus stayed inside New Jericho for the night, tied up in meetings or cajoled, guilted, or threatened into taking some time to himself, Connor would turn up on Hank's front doorstep and practically collapse into the worn, smelly couch. Sometimes, the older man would engage him in conversation, and they would trade searching questions and subtle (or in Hank's case, not-so-subtle) jabs and tired chuckles far into the night; other times, he and Hank would simply sit in companionable silence, the human nursing a beer while the android ran his fingers through Sumo's soft fur. Connor treasured those hours, the precious times when he could lay aside most of his worries and burdens and just be a person enjoying the company of a friend.
Over time, he noticed that Hank developed a habit of being in the area when Markus was out walking the streets. He never came too close, but Connor noticed his eyes flitting to dark alleys and rusting fences. Connor knew that his sensors were far superior to the human eye and ear, but also knew that Hank was one of those humans who had that undefinable "sixth sense" about people. Anyone that Hank took more than a passing interest in, Connor would make sure to analyze in more detail. He worried for Hank, worried that he would somehow be caught up in the inevitable incident when it happened, but he always felt just that little bit safer with his partner watching his back.
The incident, when it happened, was not what he was expecting.
He expected some rage-fueled junkie to dart out of the crowd with a knife or a shotgun, screaming obscenities, homing in on Markus like a heat-seeking missile. He didn't expect to barely catch a tiny glint from a sniper's scope at the very edge of his vision. However, that didn't mean he wasn't ready in a split second.
"TAKE COVER!" he screamed, tackling Markus into the shadow of a burned-out vehicle. A silenced round whistled past, its turbulent wake tugging at his hair as it buried itself in the street with a muffled thud. Wordless cries of terror assaulted his ears. Honing his senses, he found Hank's obscenity-laced call to the station coming from half a block away. A grim smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Thanks, Hank. His processor kicked into high gear, analyzing the path of the bullet, type of round and possible weapons. Risking a peek at the building across the street, he saw the sniper still in his hide. He ducked just as the second bullet pranged into the structural supports of the car and blew a hole out through the door entirely too close to Markus' head.
He couldn't allow the sniper to make a third shot.
So Connor leaped out of their dubious cover and ran straight at the building, hoping to at least offer a more tempting target. At best, he was going to successfully climb the building and neutralize the threat.
Time slowed. His LED flickered red as his processors clicked into their highest possible speeds. He calculated a workable path using the fire escape and the balconies and climbed the four-story building in seconds. Near the top, he slowed, quieting his movements. The sniper had to know the approximate path he'd taken, and also had to know that the building was surrounded; he couldn't just take the stairs with a large group of angry androids spilling into the first floor. Connor was counting on his quarry feeling trapped, and coming to the logical conclusion that the building's exterior would offer the best chance of escape. But in order to use that escape, the sniper would have to deal with him first.
Is this what humans mean when they say they "feel alive"? he wondered with a small part of his mind. The rest was firmly focused on his sensory arrays.
Sure enough, his optical sensors registered a long gun barrel pointing down and a hand resting on the edge. If the sniper saw him in the nighttime shadows before he could make his move, he was dead. Slowly, silently, Connor moved into position and leaped from the edge of the balcony, grabbing the hand and using his entire weight to fling the man over the edge. Gritting his teeth, he used his momentum to catch the edge of the fire escape, grunting at the sudden jerk as he hung by his hand from the rusty metal.
He looked up at an anomalous reading from a secondary sensor - a disturbance in the air on top of the next building. But it was gone… or had it ever been there?
Connor heard the sniper's guttural scream as he fell, and then the sickening impact as the pavement below smashed him into paste.
At the same moment, a hollow-point round entered his chest and exploded next to his thirium pump, fragments slicing through half of the internals in his torso before the remains of the bullet blew a gaping hole in his back.
His LED was dark before he hit the ground with a crunch of his own, flopping limply onto his back like a gutted fish.