A Hella Bad Day Chapter 19: Last Mission, a life is strange fanfic

Chapter XIX: Last Mission

AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

Sorry for the late update. I've been plagued with technical issues and shit's been stressful. For example, halfway through the writing of this chapter, my word-processor updated or corrupted or something and deleted my dictionary, so it's forgotten that 'Unitologist' is a word and keeps trying to correct it to 'immunologist' or 'ornithologist'. I think I got them all corrected back again, but please let me know if I missed any.

This chapter changed a lot from what I went in thinking it was going to be. Still the same plot points, but a lot of the details changed and everything took on a very different tone now. It all got a lot less antagonistic broadly, and some of the still-present antagonism changed originating agents from what I had planned. Considering there's only two more chapters 'til the end, it was interesting to have happen.

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.

I watched another tech pop out of cover and get shot in the head for his trouble. Damn. Blood splattered across my face, hot and wet, and I barely felt a thing. Emotionally, I mean. I could physically feel the blood on my face, yes.

I took the smarter approach - stuck my hand over the barricade and fired randomly in the direction the shots had come from. The fire slowed, just slightly, but it was hard to tell. There was so much of it right now. But I took the opportunity and booked it for another set of cover closer to my objective. The Unitologists attempted to blast me as I ran, but a couple shots and a familiar whoop-whoosh-boom-whistle-pop later and they were gone. Apparently these ones were prepared earlier - no need to shoot to activate here.

I briefly gave a mental thanks to the smarmy bitch - and a mental note not to actually say it to her - just as I darted behind another big metal thing. A bullet wooshed past me, thankfully missing, but twenty-hours-ago me would've panicked. Me now was just too jaded and cynical to- "AAH!"

Ahem. Victoria appeared in front of me and I gave her a calm, friendly nod of acknowledgement. She raised an eyebrow at how calm and measured I was before leaning outward then back as a hail of gunfire racketed against the metal thingy we were hiding behind. "There seems to be four of them. Do you have a plan to deal with them?"

I cocked my gun and gave her a look.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course you can't be bothered to think of an actual plan. I forgot who I was talking to for a moment there." She sighed before reaching down - and around the baby, who was still gurgling happily, oblivious to the noise under some seriously impressive noise-cancelling headphones - and plucking a small metal disc from a pouch on her hip. "I need you to draw their fire. Run back to the dead man and stay down, then shoot enough to attract their attention, got it?"

I nodded. "Got it. When do I-"

"Now!"

I ran. Bullets came again. It wasn't fun, being under fire. I think one of the bullets hit me - I dimly registered a pain in my thigh just before I fell behind the small barrier I'd started from. I took a moment to bleed gently before hauling myself up and sticking my gun over the barricade and firing wildly at the Unitologists again. They cursed, loud enough for me to hear, then fired back.

After a few long, pain-filled moments (little flashes at the edge of my vision and twinges from my thigh) Victoria popped out, tossed the grenade and hid again. It rolled into the middle of the Unitologists and promptly did what it was designed to do.

Little bits of murderous bastard ended up all over the area.

I stood and limped back over to Victoria. She eyed my thigh with some concern. "We should move quickly. The console we need to reach is through that building-"

Oh. That slight quirk of the lips, the slight narrowing of her eyes. That wasn't concern. That was sadism. That bitch.

I glared at her before jamming another medpack into my thigh. I think... yep. That was my last one. Damnit. "Right. Now we can go. How did you learn all that, anyway?"

She gave me an irritable stare. "Unlike you, I actually went to University."

I turned to look at her. "What? Are you trying to tell me you learnt tactics and explosives in a Journalism post-grad?"

She shrugged. "Academia is hell."

I poked my head in first. The room was empty of damn near everything. Just more boxes. Storage room, maybe? Does it still count as a storage room if you just happen to have put stuff there? Storage by name, or storage by nature? Hmm. Oh, wait, I was looking in here for an actual reason. I leaned back out. "Looks clear."

"Looks?" One elegant eyebrow curled. I felt vaguely attacked.

"Good point." I said, "They could be hiding. Hey, Unitologists? Any of you hiding in there?"

A pause. No answer.

I gave her a look. She scowled. "Alright, I was just asking."

We walked in, Victoria hanging a little back. As I went over to check the next door, she started poking through one of the boxes. "Tori!" I hissed, the moment I spotted her.

"What?" She said back, "Why are you whispering?"

"In case there are people around?"

"I said this room was clear. There's a whole building attached to it, in case you forgot."

"Look, it's fine. I'm okay, you're okay, the little one is okay, it's okay! Would you stop wor- Shit!" I was suddenly dragged sideways and thrown up against a crate as three of those tentacle-monster barbs flew past. I could feel Victoria's warm breath on my face and if I hadn't've been wearing these thick gloves, I probably could've felt her heart racing beneath my fingers too. I reached up and flashed her a smirk before clicking my helmet back into place.

"Don't wait up." I darted out and another trio of spikes flew at me. The three monsters firing them were on the walls around the doorway, little arms and little legs stuck to the walls like they were fucking spiders. Two on the left side, one on the right. I raised my gun and took a shot. "Shit!"

I darted left just in time to avoid getting pinned and looked back to Victoria to find her staring at me with an expression I'd only seen on her that one time an interviewee, I forget exactly who, told her that her fine business suit looked 'dowdy'. I'd had to look up the word afterward in order to understand the guttural growling and rage-rambles.

Anyway. I looked back at her and just shrugged. I may have recognised the expression, but I still didn't really know what she wanted from me. I'd just have to- eep! I threw myself to the ground, only narrowly avoiding the- ouch, nope. That one hit me. FUcking fucking ow! The pain was like someone had stuck an electrode in my arm and turned it up too high. It burned and tickled all at once and I screamed with the agony of it.

I could very dimly hear Victoria yelling my name, but it was as distant as the gunshots of the battle around us.

I don't really remember what happened next. I just blinked and suddenly there was a dead baby-monster on me and a blonde-over-pink face peering wide-eyed at me and talking. It was all still just so... distant. So... so divided. A pressure suddenly shoved into my mind and a familiar set of pearly white teeth peered over Victoria's shoulder. Its eyes grinned at her, then the smile blinked. "She's very concerned about you, isn't she? My, how very touching." A finely-manicured finger lightly drifted down the girl's cheek, almost as punctuation on the last word. The eyes grinned again, wicked sharp and curled in hatred. "I could've taken her too, you know. She came to me, just before you did. Told me what you'd said, how you'd been oh so concerned for your little nemesis here."

Jefferson laughed broadly, and Victoria continued speaking soundlessly. He stepped back and circled around her - I followed him with my eyes as he walked. I couldn't stop myself.

"It's very impressive, Max. All that concern for someone like her. Very pure of you. I knew I'd chosen well. You could've been great, if you'd just sat back and let me take the fucking shot." His dark eyes locked onto me. They catalogued my every accomplishment, every award, every bright moment and every happiness... and found it all wanting. "Not like this half-life shit you're pulling now. Just like you were in my class. Never applying yourself, never giving what you were actually capable of. Just swanning around with that little blue-haired bitch." A chuckle, this actually sounding amused, a bright, delighted thing. "I still can't believe you actually married her! Max, when I told you to take the shot, I meant photography, not whatever you call that farce of a marriage you're living in."

He leaned forward, hands on his knees. His head came almost level with Victoria's - and what the fuck was she actually talking about? - and he looked at her, then me. "Do you think Chloe knows what you used to think about, all alone in your bed at night during those long, lonely shifts of hers? Hmm? Think she knows about those times you wished she'd never been saved, that moment of the accident, all that-"

"I never thought any of that!"

Victoria blinked suddenly and Jefferson was gone. "Said any of what? Were you even listening to me? Max, we have to go-"

I shook her off me and scowled. "Did we get them all?"

She frowned. "Yes, you did."

"I did?" I match her frown with one of my own. I'd gotten them all? How had I... why couldn't I remember?

"Max? Something's wrong, isn't it." It wasn't a question. "Are you hallucinating, like you talked about before?"

"Oh, yeah." I'd kinda forgot I'd told her about that. "Yeah. I am. And it's getting very loud. Sorry."

She paused for a few seconds and I could see the shadow of something pass over his face. Her face. The hair is blonde. The teeth still pearly, but not his. It's Victoria. Not him. I shook my head. "It's nothing. It's fine. Let's just go." I really... it just wasn't the time.

As we stepped out of the room the symbols glowed brightly. I felt a little breath on my ear and heard that damn chuckle. "Maybe you didn't think it... but what if she did?"

I hurried from the room and never looked back. The chuckle followed me out.

We cleared the rest of the building easily, blasting a dozen monsters in the next two rooms and ending up in a plaza on the opposite side. The space went up about three floors, ending in a ceiling covered in antennae and aerials. The two walls to the left and right of us had a balcony-thing on their second floors, a set of stairs at each side of the balcony leading up to them.

The centre was dominated by some computer console array thing that I really, really wanted to get a picture of. So, I did. No vacuum to stop me now. I pulled up my camera and pointed, shuffled about a bit, then... click. Victoria rolled her eyes. So, I looked at her, and gestured for her to go stand in front of the tall, dark Odyssey-esque Monolith.

She stared at me, squinting slightly and pursing her lips. She didn't respond - or do what I wanted. She looked to me, then to the monolith. Her face suddenly changed with realisation - oh, she hadn't gotten it before? - and she shook her head a few times, her lips pinching in utter 'hell-nope'-ness.

I gestured again, did something more forceful with my eyes. Or tried to, anyway. Obviously, it didn't work, so I went puppy-dog instead. Quirky Charm, activate!

She buckled immediately.

With a scowl, Victoria stormed over to the Monolith and stood, stock straight, in front of it. If she hadn't had a baby strapped to her chest, she'd definitely have crossed her arms. Since she did, she just left them at her sides and glared. I grinned at her. "Thanks, Vic."

She continued to scowl. "Take the damn picture, Max."

Hmm. No. Not yet. "Could you just... turn the baby around?"

Puppy-dog eyes again. Victoria tried to stay cold, irritable, but I could see her melt as her expression relaxed. So, she turned the baby around and the little thing's eyes widened as it took me in. I waved, and a tiny little hand wobbled back. Aww. Victoria coughed. "Get on with it, Max."

I smirked. "Still one thing to do now, Tori."

She stomped her foot (cute) and scowled again, this time far harder, her face practically creasing up as she threw up her hands and demanded, "What, what could possibly-"

"Say cheese!"

I took the picture. And it was adorable. She and the baby dominated the centre of the picture, with the monolith looming behind them. Victoria's eyes had gone wide and her mouth opened ever so slightly. When her eyebrows popped up in surprise, the inside part of her eyebrow raised first, then the outside, both raising enough to make her forehead furrow. I'd never noticed that before.

And she looked entirely more open and disarmed than she ought, given our blood-strewn surroundings.

The baby was truly the most adorable part, though. Its little eyes had gone wide with wonder and it was almost cooing out at everything. Aww.

The Camera whirred and spat out a duplicate, which I handed over to her. She looked down at it softly, until it was suddenly snatched out of her hand by the sprog. It laughed delightedly and pulled it in closer, getting it caught in one of the straps of its holder-thingy. Victoria gave a small laugh of her own before taking the picture back and flipping the kid 'round again. By the time everything was resettled, that distance had set in again and no trace of the temporary openness remained.

I pretended not to notice that she hadn't given the picture back.

The console we were supposed to go for was hidden off in a corner building. I think. Might've been that tall one over there, with the weirdly-looming balcony stretching from above the door and off around it to the left. Or... that one, with the dog-damned tower. Huh. "Where are we-"

"Over here, Max." Victoria strode over to the corner building I'd pointed out first. Oh good. I was right.

I scuttled over to stand on the other side of the door to her. She looked at me. "Are you ready?"

Was I? I took a quick look around me. I couldn't see teeth or grins or eyes, except for mine and Victoria's, but the symbols were still there. Were they real? "Do you see the symbols over there?"

She turned to look. "Yes."

Phew. Cool. Good to know. Very, very good to know. Something inside me twanged and I felt a little bit of good humour leak back in and I flashed Victoria the biggest grin. "Funky. Then I'm fine."

She blinked. "Funky?"

"Yeah! It's a word I saw in the old archive movies. It means good, groovy, rad, awesome-"

She held up a hand. "You lost me at 'groovy'." Her lips curled around the word like she'd bit into the world's sourest of lemons and it was everything I'd ever wanted. I thought that last grin I'd given was the biggest, but no, this one stretched out my cheeks so much they stung, but I couldn't help it.

Victoria just glared at me and opened her mouth to utter a no-doubt devastating retort, but a small laugh from her chest just... deflated her immediately. She looked down at her giggling child and softened. She looked up, rolled her eyes, and pushed into the building. I followed, gun extended out in front of me.

I couldn't see a fucking thing - even the low red emergency light was absent inside - and it tingled at the back of my neck as we walked through. I stayed cool though. Kept my breathing even as I paid attention to the sounds. There were screams and gunshots off in the distance, and that was about it. The room itself was so quiet. Then I stopped. I can't hear my heartbeat. Or my breath. Or my-

What's... is the room spinning, or am I? And what are those tiny little specks of light all over the walls? "Fucking glitter, I bet" A voice in my head said, a voice that sounded remarkably like Chloe from twenty years ago. But it wasn't glitter, was it? Or at least, it was nature's best attempt at replicating the shiny, pervasive, life-haunting stuff - the only thing in nature that stayed utterly constant from the night we were born 'til the night we died.

The Stars.

Each one a shining speck in the long, long distance, they hung on the walls of this dark, dark room like someone had sneezed glitter all over. Something in me got curious. That little part of me that poked into Dana's trashcan or read Victoria's ridiculous texts and um... broke into Nathan's room and committed all manner of petty to moderate felonies whispered in my ear that I should do it. It wasn't all that specific on what 'it' was, but somehow I knew anyway.

I started to reach out towards one of the glittering stars, not really expecting to touch it. If it was just glitter on a wall, I was several feet away and my arms weren't any longer than the rest of me. If it was a star, well. A billion lightyears isn't much distance to travel in a starship, but it, like so many other things, would be out of reach to me.

Then my fingers closed around blazing, blearing heat and I screamed as it seared into my palms, melting the flesh off the bone and melting the bone too. I screamed as my hand just... sloughed off my arm and fell down and down and down into the suddenly endless black. I screamed as it vanished and as I cradled my hand to my chest in some vague attempt to push away the all-consuming pain. All I could do was scream.

And then all the glittering stars pulled and writhed and leapt together, a sense of glee and purpose permeating the room and my mind down to the very base of my soul. The pain was present, but it was nothing. Just a fiction of the mind invented to tell us what not to do. This glee was the opposite. It knew what it wanted me to do, what I wanted to do for it.

The light went red and the glittering stars turned a fresh, bloody crimson. Symbols, those damnable, living symbols, appeared everywhere and I could read every letter and every word and they all said one thing.

MAKE US WHOLE.

My hand started to move, or well, my stub started to move. I shoved it forward and I could feel the fingers, I could feel more fingers. Some were at the end of my arm, right where they should be (and currently weren't), but some... they were off in the dark. Off down below. They were cold, so very cold, but they were alive.

And they were changing.

The hairs on my distant hand were dropping out, spreading freely like iron filings in water, and the webbing between my fingers was growing upward, edging ever closer to turning the thing into a fucking flipper. I watched, I felt, in fascination as my hand slowly transformed further and further from human. My nails were growing longer and sharper - and I absently noted how dirty they were, and how annoyed... how annoyed... someone would be annoyed by that. I know someone would. But... I can't remember. Why can't I remember? I blinked and the hand was at the end of my arm again, now more like a spiked catcher's mitt. I looked to my other hand and gasped when I saw it was the same. And my legs felt different, bent in all the wrong places, and when the fuck did I get two more knees? This wasn't my body, but it was, but it wasn't - it felt like it should be right, but like I'd put on Chloe's pants without noticing. My mind sort of didn't quite realise it wasn't my body, just noticed that it didn't quite fit. Rode up a bit in the ass and was way too loose round the ankles.

And my hand was still off in space.

Suddenly, something latched around my middle like an metal clamp and pulled me back. Back into the dark and the cold and away from the light, but towards the source-less voice that came from everywhere and repeated the words still written throughout my vision and now slowly carving their way through my skin.

MAKE US WHOLE.

The clamp pulled me faster and faster until the symbols were rushing past me like the lights of shock-space and the red star's light was getting smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and then it was nothing but black. I couldn't see anything, but I could still feel as the pull slowed and then stopped and I was floating alone in nothing.

Alone, in nothing.

I had no idea how long I was there as I screamed and begged for something, anything to come. Everything in body was gibbering for company, for a sight, a sound, a feeling of anything to break up the endless, uncaring emptiness. But nothing came. I was alone. The space around me utterly and completely bereft of anything that could be called life.

And then I felt it. It was small, at first, barely a scrape across the back of my thigh. But it stayed and it slowed and it grew. A stick turned to a fingernail and a fingernail turned to a claw as I recognised the feeling and the terror returned. Or well... it should have returned. I was locked with one of those slasher things and a blade arm was running over my leg, but I felt no terror. No fear. No sadness. Just glee. It roughly shoved itself up against me and another did the same from the other side, then another above, another below, and then more and more and more, flying in from every direction, until I was buried in wriggling, writhing flesh and bone and the blaring voice came from all around me yelled just a single word. "Whole!"

The whole ball of them repeated after it, "Whole!", "Whole!", "Whole!" in reedy, multi-tonal voices that plucked at something deep within me. Something that wanted to belong. And before I knew it, I was shouting alongside them in a reedy, multi-tonal voice of my own.

"Whole!"

And then finally, mercifully, everything faded away and I knew no more.

"Chloe!"

I sat up in a bed, heart pounding and drenched in sweat. My wife was immediately at my side, calling for a nurse. I flinched at the contact, trying to wriggle - flash of flesh and screaming - no, not wriggle, just move away from her. She frowned at me, and gave me one of those devastating looks that made my chest hurt, but sat back and called again. A woman walked over and introduced herself, but I didn't catch the name. I was too busy looking at the bug-like drone floating beside her. The light on it blinked once in an oddly wink-like way and spoke "You're probably wondering how you got here, huh?"

Yep. It was the drone weirdo.

I took a deep breath. "I guess someone dragged me?"

"Correct!" The drone said, gleefully. "Misses Price-Caulfield and Chase burst in not twelve minutes after the casualty count - so, seventy three minutes ago - and brought you in, dead to the world, but not actually dead!"

I blinked at the slightly... clunky sentence. "So, they brought me in?"

"I guess so!" It chirped.

OOooh-kay. Someone put a whole bunch of crack in their wheaties since we saw them last, good dog. "So, um. You sound... different."

"Do I? Well, maybe I am different! What was I like when you saw me last? It might help me know if it was me you saw or one of the others!"

"Others?"

"Woops. He said I'm not supposed to talk about that."

"He?"

"Woops. I meant me. Yes, definitely meant me. The two words sound very similar you know, and you did recently experience a mild case of serious head trauma!"

"Why would my head trauma make you say the wrong word?"

"It wouldn't, you're right. Hmm. It didn't! It made you hear the wrong word. I said me, I didn't mean me. I mean I meant me, and I also said me. Definitely didn't say he. Or mean he. Just me. Yes."

The entire infirmary, Chloe included, turned to stare at the glowy drone blinking and still yammering earnestly on. Even Chloe which, given she was currently clutching me like a drowning man clutches, uh... what was I talking about? Oh, him! No, me. I mean like, him, me?

Oh dog, now I'm doing it.

Maybe it is the head injury.

I shake my head and wince at the motion. Fucking. Ow. I reached up to rub at my temple, hoping against reality that it'd ease the quickly-growing headache a little. It didn't. "Look, would you just be clear and concise for ten freaking seconds please?"

"Sure." The light blinked. "What'd you wanna know?"

"How many did we lose?" I didn't really want to ask, but... I had to know.

"Oh, pretty much everyone! There's about a dozen people in with Temba now, other than that, all the survivors are here!"

There was maybe twenty people in the room. "Only thirty... but there were hundreds of people here!"

"Yep! Three-hundred-and-forty, to be precise. Total death count is three-hundred and twelve." I very distantly noted many of the engineers, bandaged and bruised, gearing up to yell at this insensitive prick enthusiastically proclaiming the deaths of all their fellows.

I got there first. "People have died, you prick! Stop sounding so fucking happy over that shit!"

Man, I sounded just like Chloe.

The glowy eye blinked. "Yep, they certainly have! Everyone dies someday," It pepped. "What does it matter if it's today or tomorrow or yesterday? And I'm not happy, per se... "

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Chloe stared in astonishment. "Do you have no fucking tact at all?"

I resisted the urge to chuckle. Pot. Kettle.

"What do you mean? I'm just pointing out that-"

"And you're being-"

"Enough!"

The room reacted as one once again, all turning to the now open doorway and Temba blazing with anger in it. "This is not the time to fight amongst ourselves!"

One of the engineers - oh, and of course it had to be Mac of all people - suddenly made herself known with an agreement. "She's right. We can't fight among ourselves after a catastrophe like this - that's a cliche, and I-"

Nearly all of the remaining engineers chorused "-I don't do cliches." alongside her.

She just grinned. "Exactly."

Temba nodded. I think that was approval. Her jaw set in that weirdly military way David did sometimes. Speaking of, where the heck was he? Joyce... didn't seem to be here either. "Have you seen Chloe's parents anywhere? Did they..?" Oh dog.

Chloe, bless her, immediately picked up on my concern. "Oh, no! They're both fine, thank fuck. Davey's off in the meeting with Temba - or, previously with Temba, since she's here the meeting isn't really 'with' Temba anymore - and mom went with him. Copse and Rachel, too. Guess we were too boring for those old folks. No idea where Vicky and Tay went. Probably off boning." An awkward grin and an elbow to the side that sent lances of pain up my body. I winced, visibly enough for Chloe to catch. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "It's fine."

Ow.

"So, what now?"

"We're moving out of here. We don't have the personnel to sustain The Haven anymore, so we're packing up what we can and making for the dock. We have your parts-"

"Oh, you got those! Cool!"

I knew it was a bad idea to interrupt, but I couldn't hold it in. It was great that we actually managed- Oh, we handed those over before the attack, didn't we? Shoot. Temba just looked at me and I felt like an ant beneath a really big microscope.

"I said all that out loud, didn't I?" I asked, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"Yes." Said half the room at once.

"Shoot." I said again, and got a little ripple of laughs. It was nice. People rarely have a good sense of humour after shit like this goes down. "It's the head injury?"

"Hey!" barked the drone, "If I can't use that as an excuse, neither can you!"

"It's my head injury! It doesn't actually stop you doing- Ugh!" I threw up my hands and very carefully didn't look at Chloe's face. I knew she'd be grinning like a lunatic. She always did when I got like this.

And of course, that's when he strode in.

Well, actually. With his arms swinging like that, the better word would probably be sauntered. And Copse sauntered up to the edge of my medical cot and plonked himself down on the end, slapping a hand down equally hard onto my leg and asked, entirely deadpan "So, not dead then?"

"No."

He beamed. "Cool. 'cause you really looked like it, when they dragged you in here." He clicked his fingers - and wow, he 'ah, shucks' like my ninety year-old grandmother - and quipped, "Man, I really want to make a 'look what the cat dragged in' joke, but the wording just isn't there. It's a shame."

He flashed me a look like I should understand and respect his plight.

I didn't.

"How long until we go?"

Temba checked her chrono. "Three minutes."

Fuck.

I went for one of the pouches on my belt and the nurse, who'd been very quiet while we'd been yelling in her ward, finally spoke up. "No! Don't you dare, Mrs Caulfield. I didn't spend thirty minutes putting you to rights only to have you undo it with one of those patchwork hackjobs!"

"Patchwork what?"

She crossed her arms and glared. "You were going to use one of those medpacks, weren't you? You know what those things do to your insides? I won't allow it, not in my infirmary!"

"It's not going to be your infirmary for much longer, Doc'." Copse said, "'sides, we don't exactly have time to recuperate. A patchwork hackjob's the best we're gonna get."

She just growled. The two stood-off - though Copse never actually stood-up - and glared at each other. A little part of me kind of wanted to see how it'd go, but instead I just used the distraction. My hand darted down into the pouch and pulled out a medpack, jamming it into my hip. I sighed as the little thing did what it was supposed to and the aches and pains faded.

The nurse turned her glare on me for a moment, then threw up her hands. "Fine! If you want to be breathing on a ventilator and dialysing your insides for your last twenty years of life, go right ahead!"

She stormed off before I could make my own retort about necessity, but that was probably for the best. If she'd asked my why it was necessary, I wasn't sure what answer I'd give. That we didn't have the time... or I needed Unity. Make us whole. Unity or separation, I had to live to make it happen. Hell, maybe my hospital bed could be done up like a chaise lounge and they could do all the therapy I'm going to need there. Like a double doctor-whammy.

I sighed, then pulled myself out of the bed. For a moment I thought I'd collapse anyway, but the medpack did its chemical thing and I stayed standing. "Right then. Let's go find everyone else and we can get on with all of this." A flash of flesh and shadow and solidarity. "The sooner we get off this station, the better."

Our little war-council met in Temba's map-room office again - though it certainly wasn't this cramped last time, I thought irritably as I was crushed between Beefcake's bulk and Tori's sharp elbows.

Temba was stood by the table with Rachel, pointing to various spots on the map and following between them with her finger. "We can send the main body down here, and-"

Rachel nodded appreciatively. "That could work. And if you send the lot with the vans up here, that might draw some fire and take the heat off the important ones."

Temba turned her gaze on Rachel. "They're all important." She said, sharply.

Rachel wafted her off. "Of course, of course. But the ones with the parts are rather more so, in regard to our getting off this station, wouldn't you say?"

Temba took a deep breath. "The more important convoy, then."

"Indeed." Rachel smirked. "They can take the circular route with just the parts while the auto-trucks take everything else. Without the parts, food and things aren't really that important for you."

Temba paused, mid-opening, then turned an inquisitive look on Rachel. "'You'?"

"Yeah, you guys are gonna have to go on without me, Chlo', and Max. And Copse, I suppose. We've got other things to see to." Rachel wafted another dismissive hand before leaning forward on the map console and tilting her head before staring intently down at it. I can see her eyes tracing out paths along the map.

"What, pray tell, are you three doing that's so fucking important, then?" Victoria inquired, one elegant eyebrow raising up as her arms cross in front of her.

"We're going to shut down the machine that's gonna stop us all leaving here."

"The machine?"

Rachel hmmed in affirmation, still staring at the map.

"What machine?"

"You know they use forcefields and kinesis to draw in the mining vessels bringing helium for processing?" Rachel asked. We all just nodded silently, wondering where the hell she was going with this. "Well, the Unitologists have control of the Manufacturies now and there are three senior Company executives in the Church."

"Shit." Chloe said.

She snorted. "Yep."

"How did you even find that out? The Unitologists keep all their upper membership secret." I'd been fascinated to find that out, back during my research. Everyone beyond the intial congregation was kept anonymous at all times.

"Oh, I heard it on the wind." She quipped absently, still focused on the table.

Oh. Oh my. I studied Rachel intently for a moment. The girl was completely relaxed, but every cord in her body was strained for action. I took a deep breath. "Okay, everyone?" I looked over from Joyce and David, past Beefcake and Ishi, to Taylor, Temba, and Victoria. "Could we have a moment?"

Rachel's eyes locked onto me and she smiled.

Temba turned around and just looked at me. "No. Go in the corridor. Get whatever this is over with and get back here."

"So, Maxie." Chloe leant against a wall and tilted her head. "What's the hot goss that you didn't wanna talk about in front of mom and the others?" An eyebrow wiggle and a broad grin. "Lecherous, I hope?"

"No. But it is scandalous, isn't it, Rachel?" I put as much forceful emphasis on the name as possible as I looked over at the girl who hadn't taken her eyes off me since I spoke up back there. Her wide smile was utterly disconcerting.

Chloe frowned at me and turned to join me in looking at Rachel. The girl said nothing, just kept smiling.

"You can fight like that, and you know far too much for someone locked in a cell for months on end. And you certainly didn't join the Unitologists because you believed. You went there for a reason, a reason you couldn't tell us then and still haven't told us now, and then you got caught. You're hiding something, Rachel. And I feel I know what it is." My hand twitched toward my gun before I could stop it, and Rachel's flashed out to grab it, twisting it out of my grip and into hers. She had it pointed at me before I could blink.

Chloe was staring at her, slack-jawed. "Rachel! What the fuck are you-"

Rachel completely ignored her. She was still fucking smiling.

Almost instinctively, I started to smile back, but where hers was the genuine delight of someone who got something great that they absolutely weren't expecting, mine was almost manically terrified. I did not want this to be true. I really, really, really did not want this to be true.

"Rachel, this is not a negotiable answer. You tell us something now, or we go with Temba and you get to do whatever the hell you want on your own." I took a breath. "And if the ship is repaired while you're still doing whatever it is..." I let my eyes drift closed, then flick them open to stare directly at her. I hoped it showed I was serious. Because if she didn't answer... "Then that's just what happens."

Rachel's eyebrow seemed to climb higher and higher as I spoke, but her smile didn't disappear until I actually threatened her. When I threatened her... she laughed. "My, oh my, Maxie. I'm not the only one who changed, am I? Jeffershit fucked you up more than I ever thought, didn't he."

I very carefully didn't react to that. "Rachel. Now."

Chloe looked between us, completely confused and completely horrified. She didn't say anything though, and a warm feeling spread through me at the trust she was showing me.

After a moment, where I could practically see the cogs whirring inside her head, Rachel took a deep breath, then held up her palm. For a moment nothing happened and we were left looking at her pale, dainty hand with its long fingers, utterly unremarkable for a model. And then something flashed into solidity, seeming to almost erupt from the lines of her hand, like a picture you hadn't been looking at quite right then suddenly tilted your head in just the right way to see the picture beneath.

"Oh shit..." Chloe breathed out, as the top-down blue-rose emblem of the EarthGov special agents flickered into being on Rachel's hand. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiit."

I knew it. I fucking knew it. And as I said the words, I knew I'd never been so fucking scared in my life. "You're an Operative."

"How did you work it out?" Her face creased for a second before relaxing into a sheepish grin. "It was the wind joke, wasn't it?"

I nodded. "Spend enough time on conspiracy websites doing story research and you pick up a few actual gems of truth. It's a code phrase of the Agents, isn't it?"

She shook her head. "Oh fuck no. We don't keep any of those for longer than one mission. It's just a running in-joke, talking like the crazies who believe things like that. But people insist on thinking it. Even I did, back before I joined up."

"And when the hell did you join up? You can't tell me a model with a fucking drama degree was signed right out of school? This has to be a new thing." I frowned. "Right?"

Rachel pursed her lips. I could see Chloe tensing more and more as she prepared herself to be lied to. Again. "Well, new-ish, I guess?"

"Rachel."

"Eight years."

"Eight-!" My mouth dropped open. "Eight years?"

She shrugged. "Stumbled into something while you were gone and... well, I got recruited for my trouble."

"What the shit did you stumble into that got you into the fucking Operatives?" Chloe blurted, sheer bloody-minded disbelief all over her face. She looked half convinced this was a prank, or a story, or something other than what it was. The truth. I got it, really - the last times she'd been lied to had... not turned out well - but it was just stubborn denial at this point. "That's gotta be some hella serious shit."

Rachel shook her head. "I can't tell you. That's all classified. I'm only telling you I'm even an Operative because I need your cooperation to get this finished. If any other agent every finds out I blew my cover like this, we're all dead."

"Dead?!" Chloe blurted. "Then why the fuck didn't you just lie to us?"

Rachel blinked and her expression froze as she suddenly blushed. Then, sheepishly, "I... didn't think of that."

I couldn't help it. I just laughed. Chloe started to laugh too, but it was high and forced and totally unnatural. "Yeah, good one, Rach'. Really bought that shit for a second there. Got me hella good, dude."

As I continued to laugh, getting slightly hysterical with it, Rachel just gazed sadly at Chloe. Chloe looked back for barely a second and her eyes widened suddenly as she started shaking her head. "No, no, no. You are not one of the fucking Roses. No way. No fucking way!"

"I'm... I'm sorry?" Rachel offered tentatively.

"No shit you're fucking sorry! You're a fucking Rose!" Chloe jabbed a furious finger in Rachel's direction. I continued to gibber-giggle to myself.

A corner of Rachel's mouth quirked up. "I thought there was no way I could be one."

"You're not! Or you are! Or... Or... Or I don't fucking know, okay!" Chloe whirled and, on the last word, drove her fist into the metal bulkhead. The few metal strands woven into her glove just... snapped. "Fuck!"

Rachel very, very carefully did not laugh. "Are you okay, Chlo'?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay!" Chloe sneered. "I'm trying not to lose my fucking temper, and I clearly fucking failed," She waved at the wall with her hand, wincing as she moved it. She was twitching and pacing and her eyes looked utterly manic. "And I don't know what to fucking believe right now! I don't even know what I want to believe..."

Rachel reached out and put a finger under Chloe's chin, then gently raised her head so she could look into her eyes. "Believe this, Chloe. I've been lying to you for the last five years and, if it wasn't absolutely necessary that we do this thing I can't do alone, I would still be lying right now. But I'm telling you the truth now."

I sat and watched as one of those things passed between them, those things that I could never hope to have with Chloe and never really understand anyway. And Chloe nodded. She took a deep breath and the slightly crazed look in her eye faded. She took another deep breath. After a couple of concerning seconds, Chloe relaxed.

Now that my concern was fading, it was starting to be replaced by panic again. We're going to get out of this, but we're going to fucking die anyway.

She took another breath and nodded again, a little hurriedly. "Right okay. So, uh, what do you want us to do, anyhow? I get the feeling it's gonna hella suck."

"It probably is." Rachel replied. With her arms crossed in front of her, lazily leaning against the wall, and all trace of the prior confession gone from her face... she looked quite comfortable again. I hated it. I'd been distracted by Chloe for a moment there, but all the terror of finding out one of your closest friends is the closest thing to a nightmare the galaxy has had risen again, this time with a fucking vengeance. Wowzers. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my chest.

Apparently in my panic, I missed the entire conversation. But I imagine it went something like this:

Rachel - "Bluh bluh bluh DANGEROUS THINGS bluh bluh, it'll be fuuu-uuun!"

Chloe - "Sure thing! I love doing dangerous shizzle like this!"

Rachel - "Yeah! Me too! That's why I became a spy for the tyrannical galactic government!"

But that's probably artistic license.

Still, Rachel filled Chloe in on whatever it was we were planning to do, then came over to me and laid a hand gently on my shoulder. I flinched, even as tentative as the touch was.

Rachel just let her hand settle there. I don't quite know if the twitching increased, because my brain was screaming and that's very attention-grabbing, but I definitely wasn't comfortable with her being so close. I tried not to flinch away, though. Flinching was a natural cue to a natural aggressor. And ain't nobody more naturally aggressive than the EarthGov Roses.

I shook my head. It's fine. "It's fine." It wasn't. "It's... It's fine. I'm fine. You're fine. We're all fine."

"Yeah I am," Chloe drawled, doing that weird thing where she rubs her hands all down her body.

I snorted and gave her a look. She grinned back, and for a moment I actually felt better.

"Look, Max." Rachel started, and her hand was still on me. "I know it's scary, but I'm still the same me. It's been eight years, remember?

"You just said if anyone found out, you'd have to kill us!"

"No, I said if anyone found out, we'd all die. I'd be going down with you, without a doubt." She held up a hand in Chloe's general direction. "I'm not flirting with your wife, dumbass, so don't make that joke I know you want to."

Chloe scuffed her foot along the ground and scowled. "You're no fun."

"Nope." Rachel flashed her a wicked smirk, then leaned back in to me. "I'm trusting you here, Max. With something that could get us all killed." A small shrug. "Doesn't that prove I'm still the same idiot me I always was?"

I shook my head and hated myself at the look on her face, even as I was terrified of her. "Not really. If you were that same idiot, and even half of what they say about the Roses is true, you'd be dead already." I shook my head again. "Look, we can deal with all of this once we're out of here. What is it that you need us to do?"

"We're going after the Prescott machines." Rachel said, simply. "We need to shut it down before we're able to leave."

I sighed. "Fine." The journalist in me really hated the phrasing of that sentence, but she had a point. "If we need to do this, then we can't really say no, can we." I frowned, then looked to Chloe. "Can we?"

She smirked. "No. Sorry, dude. She's right, we hella gotta do this. We're fucked if we try take off and they've got this stuff still activated."

Rachel just nodded and said nothing. I guess everything she'd got to say had already been said.

Damnit.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

"Alright. We'll do it."

Temba didn't look up as we walked back in and everyone else tried very hard not to look like they'd been trying and failing to listen in. Joyce - dear, sweet, confident Joyce - was the one to take the plunge. "Did you three get everything sorted out?

Chloe grinned, threw up a hand. "We who are about to die, salute you!"

"So, yes then." Joyce drawled.

"Yes."

"And you're going?"

"Yes."

The little horde of engineers split off at the main entry - which was now a giant gaping hole that I'd looked very pointedly at Chloe over when I'd first seen it, smirking when she'd pouted over the re-confiscated grenade launcher - several of them joining Temba while the rest headed over to the convoy we'd built. Every single auto-truck that we (they) had been able to find was queued up and waiting, filled with every non-essential piece of crap we might need. The two engineer groups were prepped to go.

We, however, had grouped up with the others around us. I was helping Chloe check the fit of the shiny new O2 canisters attached to her sides. Or well. I was trying to help her. There were a lot of buckles and the weird side-tuck pouch things in the suit were... were they supposed to be that tight on the canister or..? I leaned back and surveyed all I had done. "Have I... Have I got this right?"

Chloe did a little shimmy and the canisters clanged. "Nope." She frowned, then shimmied again. "Hella nope. Oh fuck-" She lurched suddenly just as the pouch suddenly twisted and forced the canister out. I fell back and missed it.

She didn't.

I looked up and blushed at her as she smirked down at me. She tossed the canister up and caught it with the same hand. "Maybe I should take this from here. But thanks for the help, Maxie." I wasn't quite sure how I knew the following wink was sarcastic, but I did and it really, really was.

I scowled playfully and shoved her back. She oomphed into David and looked up as he shoved her back to her feet. "This ain't the time for horsin' around, you two." He admonished. "You're about to go do something incredibly dangerous and incredibly stupid."

Chloe beamed. "But that's the perfect time for horsin' around, David! Even you've got to admit, if you went into a dangerous situation all hella nervous, shit's more likely to go wrong than if you go in calm."

He gave a nod, looking like he'd rather do anything else but honesty damned the course.

Chloe, for once, did the smart thing and let it alone, leaving it with just an agreeable smile. A few moments later, and a lot fewer than it'd taken me to make my... 'attempt', she had the oxygen canisters settled and secured and zipped those compartments back up. I blinked at her. "So, why did you-"

Before I could finish, the familiar form of Mac hurried out of the crowd of engineers, tossing a moderately-sized satchel over to Chloe. She caught it without thinking. A quick frown down at it, then back up to Mac got the answer of- "I got your ripper repaired, like you asked."

Chloe's mouth spread into a wide, happy smile. She hugged the bag a little closer. Man, considering we only picked it up an hour ago, she really, really likes that gun. If you can call a misused industrial saw a gun, anyway. Then again, it does shoot things. Does a gun have to shoot bullets or do giant rotary sawblades count? Huh. Man, I need to check my dictionary app. "Thanks, Mac. When I'm ripping up some of those monster fuckers, I'll think of you."

Mac clasped her hands to her chest and batted her eyes comically. "Aww. That's so sweet."

At my glare, she grinned at me. "Don't you worry none, Max. I got you something too." She tossed me a second, smaller satchel. "It's a modified arc-welder." At my clearly baffled look, she clarified with another grin "It shoots electricity."

Ooooh.

I pulled it out of the satchel and watched with interest as it unfolded. That... that looked pretty cool. It looked kind of like someone had taken a harpoon gun and stuck it to one of those pylon things from the main generators. I guess that's where the electricity came from? Huh. "Thanks."

Mac clapped a hand down on my shoulder - and man, did that hurt. "You're welcome, Max. Good luck. Like the old guy said, you're about to go do something really dangerous and really stupid. Try not to die before you get back."

With that... delightful warning, she wandered back into the crowd of engineers. That seemed to give Joyce her opening. She strode over, held me by the shoulders for a moment before pulling me in for a big hug. "Oh, she's right - do be real careful, Max. And make sure my idiot daughter doesn't do anything stupid, alright? Get her back safe."

I nod, though I didn't really need to. "I will, Joyce."

She pulled back, looked down at me for a long minute, then nodded decisively. "Good." A moment later, she walked over to Chloe. "Now, you be careful young lady. Make sure my idiot daughter in law doesn't do anything stupid, alright?" She said, in the exact same tone.

We both laughed.

Joyce shook her head. "Please, do be careful." Her voice cracked, ever so slightly, on that last word. She let go of her and stepped back. Something hurt in my chest as I watched her blink away tears and take a hissing breath inwards through her now-harshly clenched teeth. David stepped forward and put an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

I... I laid a supportive hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, then left her to it. She was trying not to cry for our sake, after all. Least I could do was make it easier for her.

Instead, I turned to find Victoria, Taylor, Ishi, and Beefcake all cooing over the baby. I frowned at the idiot. The little bundle of joy was giggling madly as Beefcake pranced drunkenly about like... like... I don't even know. "And I thought I was a bad dancer."

"You are a bad dancer." Victoria replied almost immediately.

I raised an eyebrow at her as she blinked suddenly and looked up at me. She blushed. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what happened there."

"Oh, just you being your normal charming, sensitive self, dear." Taylor planted a kiss on Victoria's cheek, chuckling as she pulled away. Victoria only blushed harder.

"So, which group are you all going with?"

"Taylor and I are going with the smaller group, these two are going with the convoy."

Beefcake shrugged mid-cavort and explained offhandedly. "Seemed smart to send the big guns with the more visible target."

"Seemed smart to send the loud one with the more visible target, you mean." Ishi retorted, voice as dry as ever. "And guess who gets dragged along for the ride."

Beefcake chuckled. "Come on, Ishi. You know you'd be heartbroken if anythin' happened to me. Who else is gonna light up your life with these sweet buns?" He tapped his ass, getting another round of rippling giggles from the baby. Aww. That's... actually kinda cute. Dogdamnit, Beefcake.

"Indeed." Ishi deadpanned. "Losing those buns would be a tragedy to the galaxy."

"Yeah!" Beefcake agreed, "Imagine all the hot-"

Victoria very emphatically covered her child's ears and glared at Beefcake. "That's enough."

The man visibly quavered before backing down. "Right you are, Vicky. Guess I prob'ly shouldn't be tempting you like this, married woman and all. So, I'll go, uh... go show my wares over there. Right now. Come on, Ishi."

Beefcake's hands flailed for a second before he suddenly stopped, tucked them in his pockets, then turned tail and ran. I shook my head as he went and disappeared into the convoy. Ishi took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. He turned to me. "Good luck, Max. If the girl from the Church is the one guiding you... you're going to need it."

With that... incredibly mysterious and foreboding well-wishing, he followed after Beefcake.

I watched him go as well, then turned to Victoria and Taylor. "That... that was enigmatic. That was textbooking fucking enigmatic." They both give awkward chuckles. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

Taylor shrugged, while Victoria rolled her eyes. "Have you ever even met Rachel? The girl is secrets upon secrets. He probably just picked up on that and did the usual cliche thing of warning you at the most useful possible moment." Another eyeroll. Taylor nodded in agreement.

Ah. The Rose thing. Right. And probably other stuff too, come to think of it.

Man this is confusing. I am not frickin' built for intrigue! "I really miss when things were simple."

Victoria laughed again. "Oh, Max. Things have never been simple. Just simpler."

Copse, from where he'd been stood quietly in the background, very passionately agreed.

Yet more metal tunnel stretched ahead as we turned another corner. I sighed, listening as Chloe clanged her knee against the floor and choked back another swear. Rachel, on her hands and knees ahead of us, chuckled. "You'd think you two had never crawled through ventilation ducts before!"

"Not since we were kids, Rach! Who the fuck goes crawling about in vents at thirty?"

"Uh, me!" Rachel retorted hotly.

Chloe stopped crawling for a moment, blinked. "Yeah, well..." She started following again. "-you're hella fucking weird, Rach!"

"Guilty!" The girl in question trilled.

Meanwhile, I was stick in the middle of the two, trying to manage my headache. And failing.

Dismally.

I even missed Copse, for fucks sake. I mean, the man tried to be a headache, but it was never quite so literal as they'd managed. Where the heck had he gotten to, anyway? He should be back from his little side expedition by now.

We turned another corner, more metal ahead, encasing us like the walls of a grave, and the noise only grew. "Well, if I'm weird, then what are you?"

"Weird as well!"

"No, no, no fuckin' way are we the same kinda weird. You're way weirder than me!"

"Says you!"

"Yeah, says me. And I'm hella fucking right, too!"

"The hell you are, you're-"

You get the idea.

As they bantered and bullshitted back and forth, Rachel lead us through several more turns, a few cross-junctions, and what Chloe informed me was called a 'power junction nexus'. Which was just tech-speak for a power-splitter splitting power to more splitters. And in practical terms, was like a double-wide corridor with extra passages jutting off in every direction. We went straight across and down to the left.

But eventually, we ended up in a corridor maintenance-passage, which I could identify due to the gratings running along one side that I could see a corridor through. It's the keen photographer's eye, y'know.

...And now I'm bantering with myself. Wowzers, I'm going crazier than I thought.

I was drawn out of my musings by the sudden disappearance of the delightful bickering- I mean, Banter - and Rachel hissing a warning to shut up. There was... were those voices? I edged forward until I was squeezed up against Rachel and strained my ears to listen. Voices indeed.

The first, a deeper, bassy tone, said, "And did you hear that the bitch escaped?"

Another, higher, but still deep, more of a mezzo, snorted. "Yeah, and it's your fuckin' lot that was on guard duty that let her escape!" From the rustling and the slap of palm on flesh, he probably punctuated that response with a crude hand gesture.

The first voice spoke again. "I'd like to see you go up against a bunch of those infidel lunatics firing grenades at you. That blue-haired she-devil was a menace I'd not like to see again."

"A coward, Derek? That's not like you."

"Alive, Artie, is very much like me. And very much how I'd like to continue to be. And not at all like you'll be if you attack her."

Chloe preened beside me, more and more with every word.

'Derek' continued, "But even she wasn't half as bad as that bitch we had in the cell. And if she joins up with the other one... well, we'll have to keep a strong guard on the Nave tonight. Between those two, we'll need it. Just a couple of hours 'til the ceremony begins and this damned day ends. It feels like it's been months since the Marker was released, but..."

"I know what you mean, Derek."

We wait in silence for the two of them to leave.

"Who did they mean, Rachel? 'Those two'?" I paused, shook my head, and let my eyes drift as I thought it over. "The 'bitch in the cell' is clearly you-"

"Hey!"

I deadpan-eyed her. "It's clearly you, from their perspective."

"Thank you." She smirked.

"Now, can I..?"

She wafted a regal hand. "Proceed."

"Great. So, the bitch in the cell is you-" Chloe chuckled, choking it off when Rachel elbowed her in the side, a smile of her own on her face. "but who's the person they're worried about you linking up with?"

She shrugged. "Chloe, I think. They did seem scared about the 'blue-haired she-devil', after all."

Before I could respond, Chloe cackled. "Hell yeah they're scared of me." She lifted up her fists. "I'm-" Clang. "Ow. Fuck." The fists unfolded and her hands settled over the bump on her head. "That hurt."

"What did I tell you, Chloe?" Rachel asked, leadingly.

"Not to jump up and celebrate inside the tunnels." Chloe recited sadly.

"Exactly." I leaned back so Chloe could see Rachel's smirk.

"But I-"

Two squawks of pain abruptly sounded down the hall, then two thuds of bodies hitting the ground. A third man's voice chuckled. "You idiots really have to start paying attention to your surroundings. Some things out there won't be as nice as me. Then again, those things do seem to be your friends, so maybe they will be nicer to you."

We heard a door go, then two more thuds of bodies hitting ground. We stayed silent, just listening to the footsteps. Were they... Oh dog. They were. They were getting closer. I pulled my gun and pointed it to the vents. Just to be safe.

Closer.

And closer.

And-

"Hi. You three okay in there?"

Two eyes poked through the gaps in the grating and Copse beamed at us. I could only see half of him in the slats - less, probably, given he was bending over - but I did notice he seemed to have lost his gun. "We're fine. Are you..?"

She shrugged. "I'm good. Lots of Unitologists 'round here. Been cleaning up a little bit as I went."

"So we heard. 'Some things our there won't be as nice as me', huh?" Rachel's impression of Copse wasn't half bad. She certainly nailed the accent. "Very intimidating."

"Really?" Copse frowned. "I was trying for quippy."

"Tsk." Rachel tilted her head, gave him a sympathetic look. "Not quite, bud. Bit... forceful for quippy. Try again next time."

"Well, darn." He gave a little 'aww, shucks' fist pump. "Better luck next time." A pause. "Are you all, uh, coming out of there any time soon? Or should I join you?"

I made the executive decision for us all and nodded in thorough agreement. This place was unpleasant and just... so ugh. "Hell yes we're getting out of here."

"But-"

"No, Rachel." I glared at her. "It's cramped and uncomfortable and slow and we're getting out of here. There's a vent access port right over there."

The moment my mouth closed, I realised exactly who I was glaring at and promptly stopped. My eyes dropped to the ground and stayed there. Even without the eye contact, the situation just became incredibly fucking tense. Or was that just me? Because Rachel seemed to be tittering at me. "If that's okay, I mean. Whatever you think is best."

The words came as fast as I could get them out, everything in me screaming to fucking backpedal now, dogdamnit now.

Rachel sighed, wafted an obliging hand. "Oh, fine. We're basically here, so."

We crawled out into the corridor, one by one. Obviously, I mean, nobody designs a vent access for two people. That would be insane.

"Where is here, anyway?" Chloe asked as she pulled herself out. "Are we at the 3M Buildings?"

Rachel paused, rubbed at the back of her neck. She tucked a strand of long, blonde hair behind one delicate ear. She may have even blushed slightly. I was fairly certain that was my imagination though. "Ah. Right. About that. So, I may have... mislead you again. On where the machine I was talking about was, I mean..."

"We're at the Church." Copse filled in, helpfully, before Rachel could obfuscate the point any more.

"Shit." Chloe and I both said at the same time in the same tone.

Copse snorted. "It isn't that big a problem. Probably fewer Unitologists around here, anyhow."

"Yeah," Chloe drawled with derision, "That's what we thought last time and we ran into a whole fucking congregation. And you all didn't let me bring my grenade launcher this time."

"As fun as it is, the grenade launcher is loud, Chloe." Rachel's expression was oh so kind and sympathetic. Even down to the shine of her eyes. She was good. How do you get that good at this? "We're going to be taking a quiet approach this time."

We all snorted at that.

Rachel blinked. "What?"

Chloe raised up her hands and very dramatically inverted-commas her answer. "A 'quiet' approach. Rach, I don't know who you're kidding, but that's hella not going to happen."

"Hey, it could happen!" Rachel retorted, pointing an accusing finger at Chloe.

Chloe just laughed.

"Y'know. That Altman guy seems to have actually gotten uglier." Chloe looked up at the enormous golden statue, a deeply contemplative look on her face. The end of her gun was planted on the ground and she leaned loosely on it like a cane. "Did he always have those..?" She waved vaguely over her face. I looked up at the statue and frowned in confusion. Have what?

Rachel planted her hand on Chloe's shoulder and shoved her forward (wowzers, she's really strong) with a growl. "Come on, Chloe. We have places to be and no time to play art critic."

Chloe took a deep breath and gave a half-smile up at Altman. "Sorry, big guy. Guess I'll insult your face some other time." She hoisted her gun back up on her shoulders and scurried over to rejoin us. "So, where to, anyway?"

Rachel pointed. The corridor she indicated seemed otherwise normal until that moment her elegant finger lined up with it. Afterward, it seemed to grow immediately more dark and foreboding. Immediately more dangerous. I gulped. "That way. We're looking for a staircase."

"Going up or down?" Chloe asked. I blinked, pulled my thoughts from the concerning corridor and back to the concerning conversation. That had not occurred to me to ask, despite the blatant importance of knowing that. Wowzers, me.

"Up." Rachel answered simply. "All the way up."

Chloe leaned back to a spine-tinging degree and groaned up at the ceiling. "Fuuuuck."

Rachel turned to her, face pieced together in delicate concern. "What?"

"More fucking stairs!" Chloe whirled and jabbed a finger at me. "You better not pull that wrong floor shit again!"

I chuckled. Oh yeah. That. Heh. I went up on my toes to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Yes dear."

I looked back to the corridor. Well, fuck. I have to do this. We have to do this. Huh. That actually makes me feel better. Rachel might be dragging us into something ridiculously dangerous and deadly, but at least Chloe's right here with me.

Still. We'll let Rachel go first. No way I want to get in the way when she starts killing things. Now we know what she is... Dog. I'm staying well behind her. Unsurprisingly, she looked us over and seemed to read the room, because she did just that. "I'll take point. Position three, Copse."

He nodded and took the rear as Rachel pushed forward into the corridor. We, for lack of any other instruction, took the middle, and we headed forward after her in a vaguely kite-shaped formation. The corridor was just as foreboding inside as it had seemed, lined with windows into pitch-black rooms, and I- what was that?! The barrel of my gun shot up to point shakily at one of the windows. The one I'd seen... something through. "Chloe!"

"What?" She asked, keeping her eyes on her surroundings like was probably smart. "What's wrong?"

"There's something in there, Chloe."

"Well, stop pointing your gun and yelling at it and it might leave us alone." She shrugged. "If it comes after us, we'll just shoot the fucker like everything else. We're hella badass, remember?"

She finally looked over at me and noticed the shaking. She held out a hand to warn Copse to stop, then laid the other gently on my gun to keep it still. "It's okay, Max. We have this. We just gotta keep it together."

Yeah. Yes. Keep it together. "Right." Okay. "I'll just-" Hmm. Chloe hugged me. "Okay. I'm good."

Chloe stepped back and smirked at me. "Yeah you are."

I tilted my head. "Was that a boast or an innuendo?"

Chloe paused for a moment, then winked. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She gestured to Copse to start again and swaggered off down the corridor.

I glared at her. "That's not an answer, Chloe!" I sighed and hurried after her. Damn longlegs.

The corridor was lined with yet more pitch-black rooms, even through the half-dozen turns Rachel lead us through with complete familiarity. I felt watched the entire time. Eyes in the dark, glittering like stars.

Eventually though, Rachel stopped at a door and waved us over. "The stairs are in here. Far right corner. I'll go in first, wait five seconds, then you three follow me. Understood?"

We nodded. It wasn't exactly complicated. Rachel beamed. "Great. Five seconds, remember." And then she tapped open the door and darted into the next room.

Chloe, Copse, and I stood around the door, just looking at each other. Chloe stuck her hands in her pockets, rocking back and forth on her feet. "Sooo..." She drawled. "Come here often?"

Copse and I shared a look.

After an awkward silence, I checked my chrono. Great. "Five seconds. Come on."

The room was... alarmingly dark. Wherever the stairs were, we couldn't see them. We also, uh... We also couldn't see Rachel. Shit. Shit. Shit. This is not good.

This... I...

There's something wrong.

Something very, very wrong here. "Chloe..." I hissed out.

She flashed the tiniest gesture, her hand down by her hip. "I know. Shush."

The three of us kept the same formation as we moved further in. Chloe facing left forward, me taking the right, and Copse guarding the rear again. I expected to hit the opposite wall pretty fast, but we ended up walking for an oddly long time before Copse suddenly called a halt. "Stop, stop! There's something wrong here. We need to go-"

The room suddenly exploded into light, revealed dozens of catwalks and folding stairs all over the vast space. It also revealed eight groups of Unitologists surrounding us, every one of them with a gun levelled on us. Fuck.

We immediately went back-to-back and returned the favour. After another awkward moment, Chloe grinned. "Hi."

The Unitologists didn't engage with this most witty of banter and Chloe actually slumped slightly in disappointment.

After a moment, a door opened and another Unitologist - I presume, anyway, this one was in an EarthGov uniform, crease-free and very buttoned-up - walked in. He was an older guy, hair salt-and-peppering at the temples, and some surprisingly pleasant laugh lines creasing at his eyes. He had an antique ring around his neck, prominently displayed around his collarbone. He walked with an air of command, the kind of presumption of authority someone with years of giving orders gets. And he-

BOOM.

Red suddenly exploded as his face vanished.

The Unitologists blinked first.

"Fucking fire!" Chloe yelled, reloading her gun before emptying it again into one of the Unitologist squads, scattering them like bloody bowling pins.

That certainly was clear. I picked another group, pointed, and fired. With an ear-popping tsunk-chaa, a bolt of charged energy flew from the point of my gun and, well... given the amount of metal in modern RIGs and Protective Suits, I'm sure what happened next was obvious.

Barbecue.

From the shocked looks on everyone else's faces, that actually wasn't so obvious. Either that or they were surprised the little one shot first. Just call me Max So-Low. Heh.

I level the gun on another group and shot again, this time... this time... Huh. I might've found the issue with this gun. Absolutely nothing happened. And it imbued the Unitologists with a new confidence, all of them raising their guns and shooting back. For a moment, I thought that was it, but a metal plate tore up from the ground and bent into a shape I could duck behind. Which I did, narrowly avoiding the massive barrage of bullets that'd tear me to pieces. One did still hit me, scraping my arm, and I choked back a scream, but I managed not to drop my gun.

Good times.

I looked over to Chloe and grinned. She'd pulled up another stretch of floor with her Kinesis module for her and Copse, leaving them stuck together behind a far-too-small section. It was kinda funny and- Wowzers, how many bullets do they freaking have? The floor behind me was bending under the strain of the hail of bullets ramming into it. I've got to admit, it was kind of a smart idea. If someone hides behind cover, just shoot the shit out of the cover until it breaks into itty bitty pieces.

I had to do something before that happened and we all died. And where the fuck was Rachel? Did she make it to the staircase? Did she get caught? It was five bloody seconds and- Oh, yes. The Bullets.

I stood suddenly, aiming for one of the groups shooting at Chloe and Copse and...

And...

Aaand...

Huh.

Still not working. Damnit.

Wait, what does this- I pulled the odd little trigger mark and... oh. A familiar cobbled-together sphere, though far smaller than the last I'd seen, burst from the under-barrel of my electric gun and collided with one of the middle Unitologists, right in the centre of the chest.

There was a brief pause, in which the man looked down at the unfamiliar object and actually looked offended that I'd thought this innocent-looking metal sphere would stop him, and then it exploded. Or imploded. I still wasn't sure.

He and his group died not knowing either, screaming in agony as the various bits attached to the black hole bomb tore into them, then pulled them all in to the devouring singularity. Dog, I'm not going to forget that scream for the rest of my life. That one was...

The fight began again in earnest as Rachel dropped down from the fucking ceiling, whirled and threw a fucking knife into the chest of one of the more armoured unitologists standing, staring, stock-still at the empty space his fellows had existed in just a second before.

He didn't even get a chance to make some sound of pain, just dropped to the ground as Rachel wafted her hand again and the knife flew back into her hand, tearing through the throats of another two Unitologists on its arc back. I stared at her. "Where the fuck-"

She grabbed me and dragged me aside as a round of gunfire ricocheted off the ground we'd been standing in. I spared a look up and- shit! "Above us!" I yelled to Rachel, trying to get heard over the sheer noise of every Unitologist trying to kill us at once.

"I know!" She called back. She hadn't even glanced up.

I spared a look back to Chloe and Copse, still in the middle of the little floor-wall-circle thing, but now standing back-to-back and dancing and dodging about. They both seemed utterly in their element. I think Chloe even whooped once or twice. Yep. She definitely whooped. I really shouldn't be surprised she's enjoying this, the weirdo.

The gun in my hand bleeped.

I blinked down at it. What the- Oh.

I grinned.

Oh yes.

I threw out my gun hand and zapped the lot, watching with grim satisfaction as the condensed energy cooked the lot of them. Then I levelled the gun on another group of Unitologists and fired another of Mac's bombs, watching in horrified satisfaction - dog, emphasis on fucking horror - as more of them got torn to shreds by shrapnel then pulled out of existence. Or wherever the hell black holes went.

But my grin only broadened. I looked at the last four groups of Unitologists remaining. "Well? Are you going to have a go, then?"

They looked at each other. then raised their guns.

That was when the howling started.

AN1 - I'm very unhappy with that entire first scene nightmare. I'm not sure how to write it so it isn't B-movie terrible, but eh. I'm tired of writing it and I'll just rework it when I've done the whole story and am re-editing.