"Church? Church!"
"For god's sake Tucker, what do you want!?"
"It's been 5 minutes. Are you finished with that data mining or whatever?"
"No, I've been dealing with running Carolina's healing unit too. I can only do so much. Give it...3 more minutes."
"We might not have that. Please try to finish soon."
"I'm an AI dude. I know my limits better than you guys."
Tucker was getting fed up with Carolina's injuries, the time wasted in worthless conversations with the Reds, and the constant nagging by Caboose to get out of there. Still, they hadn't failed yet on mission, and he didn't plan on dying for the cause anytime soon.
"Tucker, what do we do?" The question came from Wash. Maybe before, in the canyon, he would have doubted himself, but now, he was ready.
"Church, give me a sweep."
"Done."
Six red dots, only pinging every so often before, now showed a constant feed and direction of Locus' men.
"Flank left, along that ridge, and don't miss!"
"Got it!"
"Caboose, I need you to play our target game."
"What was tha- oooooohhhh..." He started firing with Freckles' help.
"Grif, Simmons, and Sarge. They're bunched up in front. Unbunch them."
After a curt reply, something about taking orders from a blue, he left the room, loosing a battle cry. A shotgun blast in the distance told him at least that it had started well.
"Carolina, can you fight without Church for a bit?" She nodded slowly. He had been working with them since the fight with...whatever the hell his name was. She was too dependent on Church. "I want you with Wash. He seems...tense. Last thing we need is wounded." She left.
"Church, how's it looking?"
"Better now. They must have had a signal jammer or something. Done in 30 seconds."
"Give me a readout." A countdown appeared on his heads up display.
Tucker turned on the team radio. Honestly, he preferred giving personal orders, but when Kimball had said they needed to learn how to fight like soldiers, he took it to heart. "Everybody be ready to break off and mount up."
Carolina spoke up. "Tucker, they aren't dead yet. We're beating them!-"
"-and if we aren't gone as quickly as possible, the intel we got and everyone here will be lost. We can talk on the way back."
"...Yes sir."
Shit. She never was a fan of taking orders from a former sim trooper. This wouldn't go over well. Maybe he could-
"Aaaaaggghhh!"
Dread fell over them. Caboose. He made a quick decision.
"Church! Are we ready!?"
"Yeah!"
"Everybody mount up! I'll get Caboose!"
He was too innocent. Too...well, truthfully, he wasn't the best of them, but he belonged...he lost the thought as the path Caboose took out shortened before him.
Bullets and lasers missed by inches. One hit his shoulder. He barely noticed the pain. One of his own was in danger, and that was not acceptable. He picked up Caboose, and to his relief, a Warthog slid in front of him. Then he saw the problem. Grif had driven the wrong vehicle to them. There was only one spot open. Caboose's.
"Give me a rifle and some ammo."
"Tucker, n-"
"Do. It. Take the data and get it to command."
"...good luck."
"Thanks," he turned around. "I won't need it."
I've changed, he thought. I became something better than a simulation trooper with no purpose. He had thought things like this before, but it never seemed so real until now. He checked his scanner. More had shown up, as he thought they would. Twenty now. He knew he had no chance to win free of them, but he could buy the others valuable time.
First, cover. The suit won't hold up against their weapons for long. A tall rock close to a flanking route caught his eye. A short sprint later, he was there, with a new scar on his leg to show for it. Now, to fight. These guys aren't as smart as Locus' originals, so I might be able to- he saw that the Warthogs weren't gone yet, and screamed.
"GET OUT OF HERE!"
They left quickly, but not before a laser hit Washington in the back.
Alright assholes... The first one to die was the one who shot Wash. He was too exposed from where he had shot. Tucker didn't even have to leave cover to shoot him. The others knew where he was exactly now though. Time to fix that. He lunged for the flanking path. Made it. They're still after my guys. Let's get their attention. He fired a clip into the general mass, now nearing 30 in number. Some screaming indicated he had hit a few people. They would be after him now for sure.
The next hour passed for Tucker in flashes. He felt nothing but savage joy in dropping so many of the enemy. He was severely wounded, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered was how much ammo was left. When he ran out, an occurrence that took a while, considering he had procured ammo himself and not relied on Grif, he took a moment to survey. Hopelessness engulfed him. What was a gang before was now a teeming mass. They would not show him mercy now. They would kill him with no hesitation. The only weapon he had left could be used against his team, and his army. I don't have a choice. I'm going to die today. I can't let the sword go to them.
He placed the sword under his boot.
He raised his foot.
His foot began to fall, but lost all force when a tranquilizer put Tucker to sleep.
On the trip back to base, no one spoke.
When they arrived, Kimball and Doyle were alerted to their return, and asked for Tucker to report immediately. Caboose and Washington went to the infirmary with Simmons, and the rest went to go give the bad news.
"Where's Tucker?" Asked Kimball, already guessing what happened in her imagination.
"He...stayed behind." Grif said it. No one else offered to continue, so he started to describe it, gaining confidence, and becoming more detached as he spoke. "The mission was going fine, we had the data, a minimal opposition to fight, a well put together escape plan...Caboose got hit when we tried to leave though, and someone" he very pointedly looked at the driver of the passenger model Warthog, Carolina "didn't bring around the right vehicle." Carolina immediately uttered a wordless shout, and began to scream at grif, but Church must have said something to her, because she let it go, and stormed out. "So he had to stay behind to cover our escape. Washington got shot when we tried to leave. I don't know anything past that."
Doyle spoke next. "Do you have the data?"
"Yeah. Right here." A monitor flared to life as Church pulled up the information. "I have to go. Carolina needs someone to calm her down." He left.
Kimball and Doyle looked at each other with that sad look. The one people only use when everyone knows what they have to do, but no one wants to do it.
"Tucker was one of the best leaders we had. He heroically sacrificed himself so that our cause could advance. More importantly, he did it for all of you." she gestured to the remaining Reds and Blues in the room. She sighed. "Tomorrow we will have a new leader assigned for your team. There may also be other changes we make so you don't lose people again."
"That's it!? A short eulogy and a new leader!?" The accusation stung Kimball, and Grif knew it. After all, it was how she herself had begun leading the New Republic. A quick death, a short eulogy, and a quick reassignment. However, she wasn't about to take that from him, from anyone right now.
"Out. Now. That's an order."
"Fine."
"...Miss Kimball. I understand he was a friend of yours...I cannot pretend to know what you're going through, but I can tell you that none of those men and women are ready to lead that team." Doyle looked at the list of operatives on the team, hoping for a miracle solution to show itself. When it didn't, he left.
There is an entire army to handle here, and I am mourning one soldier? Stupid. I only wish someone cared enough about Tucker's team to...Sarge maybe? He has previous experience in battles, but then who doesn't, and anyways he's too violent to reliably strategize and win. Who else? There's Washington. He led blue team in the canyon, was a freelancer, and is tactful in most situations, but his relationship with Locus could jeapordize any mission we send him on, not to mention his self loathing from his early days could result in me having to assign a new leader again before I know it. Carolina is not an option, too much danger of insubordination and mutiny. Nor Simmons, doesn't have the people skills. Grif? Well. Maybe. His only issue is laziness, and I can try to fix that. He comes across as intelligent, only indifferent, and, if the stories are true, can withstand quite a hefty amount of pain after a particular fight with Tex. That settles it then. Grif. I'll tell him tomorrow.
When Tucker woke up, it was to complete darkness. A voice spoke.
"You are going to remain silent. If you do not, you will die. Is that clear?"
He figured Locus would have something to do with his incarceration. And if Locus was here, Felix would be too. As if in reply, Felix piped up.
"Hey there Tuck. We had a whole lot of fun with you while you slept. Made a few adjustments here and there, got you some new armor, and gave you a couple of friends to play with." The last sentence came with all the evil Felix could muster. "Enjoy the power induced insanity!"
Another voice spoke, this time in his head. "Hello Tucker. My name is Sigma. We have a lot of work to do."
