Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth, not me. I make no profit from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Nine: Murder and Memories
North and York were packing. They were going to follow the Freelancer in steel and yellow armor. They had their provisions. They had their first aid kits. They had a whole lot of weapons. Weapons that Sister was not authorized to give them. But Sister wasn't fighting them on the issue. She was standing on top of the base, acting as lookout. She hadn't spoken to either of the men since they said they were going after the one they called Wash. She could have told them no, and if they resisted her it would have been at best insubordination, and at worst treason, because in the Insurrectionist Army, she outranked them.
But Sister didn't say anything. She just walked to the top of the base and stood looking out of the canyon in front of her, thinking about how people always seemed to leave her. Mom left to join the circus. Grif left to join the army (granted, he had been drafted), and then he'd left her here. He didn't even question it when she didn't get shipped out somewhere new or try to get her reassigned with him. And now York and North, who had over the past year become two of the best friends she'd ever had, were up and leaving her in this god-forsaken canyon too. How were they even going to follow this Agent Washington without a vehicle? They were supposed to be super soldiers and they seriously just made shit up as they went? No wonder the Freelancer Program was collapsing.
It wasn't as if she had some deep defining grudge against everyone that had ever let her down or some psychological shit like that. She wasn't like that. Sister was free-spirited – live and let live. But there came a time in a girl's life when she got tired of being left behind. I mean, they could have at least asked if she wanted to come along. Hell, she probably knew as much or more about Project Freelancer than they did, because of trying to locate Grif. She was trying not to let her anger boil over and do something rash; she had gotten better about in the year she had spent with the two relaxed and even-tempered men.
Sister made up her mind. She was in charge of this base, and she trusted York and North not to return to the bad guys. Therefore, she was not going to let them run off and endanger themselves without her, nor let them jeopardize their friendly status with the Insurrection. Sven would be here tomorrow with more supplies on the pelican. She could get the Freelancers to wait that long and convince Sven to take them where York and North wanted to go. Sister would simply go with them and tell C.T. that she thought it was relevant to the cause – which it was, just a bit less so now that Freelancer was less of a problem than it had been previously.
Sister squinted. Across the canyon it looked like Sarge was heading somewhere in the warthog – not toward blue base, so she wasn't worried about it. She turned around to walk below and tell her friends that she was coming with them on their fool's errand – and stopped short. Lopez stood on the other side of base's roof, pointing a pistol directly at her.
"Son of a bitch!" – three dull pops echoed across the canyon.
York and North were readying their supplies to go after Wash. He was their best chance at locating Delta and Theta, and after the radio communication to Sarge they had overheard minutes ago (that they could easily identify as falsely spliced together) they were in an extra hurry.
"You know C.T. is probably going to think we betrayed him," North said.
"Yeah, if Sister tells him," York replied.
"Sven will tell him when he sees that we're not here tomorrow," North pointed out. "No matter how he feels about Sister."
"Do you honestly think we're gonna get another chance at this?" York snapped. North frowned at him and he sighed. "I'm sorry man; I've just buried the frustration for a long time now."
"Don't be. I feel the same, and I'm with you on this. I just feel like we're taking advantage of Sister's trust, big time. I mean, if we explain she might just come with us. After all, she has as much reason to thwart Freelancer as we do, what with her brother and all," North's usually mild face was lined with concern for the girl he thought of as his adopted sister. York rubbed his temples in frustration.
"Dang it, you're right. I'm so used to keeping it all close to the chest that I didn't even consider it. We've got everything pretty much ready to go. Let's go up top and ask her to come."
At that moment they heard Sister's shout and three muffled cracks outside.
"Was that what I think it was?" York asked.
"Sister!" North was already out the door and headed upstairs. York followed right after him and both men were on the roof in moments. Sister lay on the roof, looking for all the world like she was just watching the fluffy clouds go by, were it not for the blood seeping out of her armor from three bullet holes. They spotted Lopez sprinting toward red base.
"York, catch the son of a bitch, now!" North shouted.
"On it!" York took off after Lopez, and North knelt down next to Sister.
Kaikaina felt funny, almost like she couldn't breathe. Someone was kneeling over her. It reminded her of something from before.
"Sister! Sister! Kaikaina! You've got to stay conscious!"
"Sure thing...besty...bff...bosom buddy...haha...I said bosom," Sister rambled.
North didn't move her yet, first assessing the damage. Two shots to the chest, one to the head, although that one had glanced off her helmet and didn't seem likely to have caused more than a concussion.
"I'm okay...totally fine...," Sister rambled on. "Did I ever tell you guys 'bout the time...ice skating...underwater for three hours..." That's what it was. A memory. Something happened just now that reminded her. This hurt more though. She tried to think of a better memory.
Kaikaina was on her back, staring at the sky. She and Dexter in the green grass. Soft wind.
Blood red sky, sunset. Or was that blood trickling down her visor? Like rain.
It rained when Dex left. On a ship that took him to the stars.
"Stupid starships...fuckers..." That was not a better memory.
"You just keep talking, Sister. Just stay conscious. I'm gonna pick you up and carry you downstairs now. We're gonna call Sven to come take you to the hospital," North had survived similar injuries – twice. It was a good bet that someone as tenacious as Sister didn't have any intention of dying just yet. That thought was all that kept North from panicing, but only just. He had failed to protect someone he cared for again...
Kaikaina had found her own way to the stars.
A bad way with a handsome mask.
She left what was behind the mask behind her.
But then it was raining again.
And she was on the streets.
Debased and abused.
Starving and scrounging.
But Sven saved her from that.
And then Kaikaina saved him from a bullet.
"Mmm...Sven is good. Don't need Hospital. I ever tell you how I met Sven? See, there was this guy I ran off with because he had his own ship, but he was a douche-face, and then there was this pimp, but then Sven showed up..."
That was destiny, she thought – to find her way out.
To find Dexter again. To find out what they did to him here.
Destiny was cruel. Back and forth, it made her dizzy to be with and without.
"Sister?" North asked after she was quiet a moment. He had made it back downstairs and lay her gently down to take off her armor and apply first aid. York staggered in dragging an unconscious, that is powered down, Lopez and tossed the robot on the floor.
"How is she?" York asked.
"Barely conscious," North replied vaguely, digging through the first aid kit, "Where the hell is the bio-gel? There's supposed to be bio-gel in here!"
"It's the stuff that looks like Aloe Vera."
"Oh, is that what everyone always meant by that?"
"You seriously just realized that?"
"Shut up."
"You're right, its not the time," York knelt down on Sister's other side and lay a hand on her bloodied head. The movement caused her to stir.
"Huh? No...no hospital...mmfine...wait, are we...goin' see C.T.? He's...pretty good guy, e'en though he acts like an ass some...love the hair...you know his name's not really C.T.? He refuses to answer to his real name anymore, since Connie...you ever meet Connie? I only did a couple times...she was really cool...always wanted...sister...Dex is dumb...Dex? Are you here?"
What was her identity without those she loved around her?
Was identity transient? C.T. wasn't C.T. But he was. He had made her who she was.
Sven brought her to C.T. - He had saved them and made them better.
But that wasn't good enough now.
She couldn't save Dex.
She couldn't save herself.
Did that make her no one?
North heard Kaikaina's rambling while he applied the bio-gel the Sister's wounds to stop the bleeding, and his heart broke for the girl. No one should have to go through all she had by the time they were was eighteen.
York had moved to the long distance radio and called Sven, requesting immediate evac. Sven responded stoicly as ever to the information, but confirmed that he would be in the air in two minutes. The two Freelancers didn't have to have the conversation deciding that tracking down their old teammate would have to wait. Sister was here right now, and they weren't going to abandon her.
York began fiddling with Lopez's innards after he got off the radio.
"What are you doing?" North asked quietly.
"Same thing we always do – reset his memory banks so he doesn't know we're here. Only this time I'm gonna make sure his video logs still show he shot Sister, so he thinks she's actually dead." York replied while squinting at some wires. "Aha!" He pulled up the robot's video feeds and began editing. "Did you get the bleeding stopped?" he glanced up at North.
"Yeah, she was going into shock, but I think she's stable now. When will Sven be here?" North tried to keep the fear out of his voice. Sister wasn't in the clear yet by any means.
"Soon," York replied, and kept working.
Sven was not pleased when he set his ship down directly in front of blue base. Sister may well have been dying, and he didn't have anyone to blame for it or kill for it. York had explained that the robot had snuck up on Sister while she was on watch. Even the best training wasn't perfect, he supposed. Sven would have preferred it if he could have smashed the robot into tiny unrepairable pieces and seen its electronic guts spilled out across the canyon, but strategically York had made the right call rewriting the thing's memories and dropping it back at red base.
The freelancers carried Sister gently but quickly out to the ship, and Sven was in the air again before they had even spoken. Sven pushed the bird hard, straining its upper limits of speed the entire way back to their hospital headquarters. It was reckless flying, but it would have taken something far less precious to Sven than Sister's life to slow him down. York and North, for their part, weren't overconcerned with Sven's wild flying – 479er had frequently flown like this with them in tow on missions in the past.
When they were most of the way there and Sven had confirmed with North that Sister had not resumed bleeding and her heart rate was steady, he asked for a normal report on their situation. York and North looked at one another for a moment, understanding what one another wanted to say to Sven just from working together for such a long time. The non-verbal communication came in handy on a regular basis. They confirmed with one another that they would trust Sven.
"A freelancer came looking for the reds and blues that had been stationed at Blood Gulch. He was asking about who had experience with the A.I. It's been pretty quiet on that front for the past year, so our bet is the Meta is moving again," North explained.
"We especially think so because the red sergeant received an obviously false transmission from "Command" ordering him to reassemble the red team, but it was spliced together from fragments of another message. We're pretty sure we know the voice that was on the radio too. She only works with Recovery Agents, not Sim. Troops, so she wouldn't have called Sarge anyway," York continued.
"I think I can confirm your suspicions," Sven began. "We've had a report of a lot of activity at another Sim. base called Valhalla. Apparently some crazy stuff went down when a ship crashed there a few weeks ago."
"Sven, we're going after them – Wash and the Meta both. We have unfinished business," York said.
"I know," he replied. "I'm going with you, as soon as we're sure Sister is safe."
"Without orders from C.T.?" York asked.
"C.T. trusts my judgement. Besides, he's been out of radio contact for days."
"Should we be worried?" North asked.
"Not yet. He does that sometimes," Sven replied nonchalantly.
The feeling was all too familiar as they set down on the roof of the hospital and a stretcher was rushed out to carry Sister to surgery. The men followed after, wishing they could be there with her.
"You remember when we brought Maine home after he got shot in the throat? Sven flying like a maniac has sort of thrown me down memory lane," North watched as Sister was wheeled into surgery.
"Yeah, Wash was really torn up about it – best friends and all. We almost lost Maine then. I understand what Wash was feeling a bit more clearly now. I know we've lost others; hell we almost lost you once before that. But this is like deja vu – its eery," York recalled comforting his friend as they watched the surgery.
"I guess we did lose Maine, in the end," North sighed sadly.
"Maybe," York looked thoughtful.
"What do you mean?" North looked away from the lit 'surgery' sign and at his friend.
"Something Delta said to me after the Meta almost killed us that time. He was certain that Sigma was the one manipulating Maine – he wanted to achieve Metastability by combining with his siblings," York frowned, deep in thought.
"So, if we get Sigma out of his head...," North suggested.
"He may go back to being good ole, only kill you if you actually piss him off first, Maine. It's a long shot though. It's been a long time. I don't know how much of him is left in there," York shrugged.
"True – we can spot the differences in Wash's personality from a distance when we haven't seen him in years, and he only had Epsilon in his head for a short time." North pondered the idea.
"Either way, if we get the chance we may be able to do some good," York decided.
The doctor soon came out of surgery and Sven came over from where he had been pacing non-stop. The three men looked at the doctor expectantly.
"She's going to be fine. That armor is really something. The bullets didn't penetrate her body deep enough to do major damage to any organs, so she's mostly going to be recovering from blood loss and a concussion. I'm going to keep her sedated for a while though. Sven, you remember what happened last time we didn't do that."
Sven chuckled and the freelancers looked at him questioningly, "A story for another time my friends."
He turned back to the doctor. "We have a mission to complete, doctor. Give Kaikaina my love when she wakes, and tell C.T. if he makes contact that our freelancers are finally earning their keep, but don't speak to anyone else about it. You two, lets go. You'd better be able to track this guy down again," Sven headed back to the roof and York and North followed.
"What do you take us for, amateurs?" York joked. At long last, they were going to have a chance to regain some of what they had lost.
