27 Fresh Tools
a/n: In which we learn what Yelv is good for.
Slight swears.
All the good things belong to Monolith Soft.
H.B.'s jaw dropped in horror. Frye's scar looked less like a souvenir from a wild adventure and more like a guarantee of bodily injury. "Goddammit, Yelv..." It could have been either that growled that warning, or both in unison, or it could have risen from the air around them as an eternal truth.
"Ha ha, it was a joke," Yelv said hastily. "Ease up, pard and pard. I know what my job is supposed to be. Get us in, right?" The hint of question in his voice had Frye lunging at him, or maybe the Interceptor was wobbly with fatigue. H.B. stepped between them and glared at Yelv, who went on hastily, reciting the instructions from the briefing. "Ever since they put the roof back on, we can't just drop to the bottom, or only when they have it open. But the top floor is a good place to start anyway, since it'll be mostly full of roof-opening junk and not a whole lot of guards. No one watches the hinges, just the door."
He started trotting clockwise away from their starting point. "Gotta move pretty far away from the front," he shouted back to the other two, "because that's their whole glass elevator main entrance area. It's crawling with guards. I didn't get what Vandham said about chocolate and the oompy aliens, but whatever man, I just put it on the list to ask Eleonora later." Yelv screeched to a halt, dropping to his knees. "This one looks pretty sweet." He started to pry open an access hatch.
"Isn't it likely to have an alarm?" H.B. said with shock.
Yelv waggled the jagged tool in his hands at H.B. "Check it out: Ganglion screwdriver, fresh from some creep plumber they jacked this morning. Still had alien sweat on it. The alarms won't wig out for their own tools; the permission codes are built right in. This kind of thing is real handy for snagging alien tech, but you gotta use fresh tools before they change the codes." He bent his blond head and resumed prying. "Sweet mother of clams, I love being a Reclaimer sometimes."
They dropped into a dim corridor, cramped from the machinery that opened the roof. Yelv helped guide Frye through the close maze. H.B. had the tracking device out, trying to get a read on where Doug might be. The tiny twinkling device was of Ma-non origin, and didn't so much track anything physical about Doug as sniff out the pattern of his consciousness. Of all the data in in in the castle, only his thoughts would match, okay? It wasn't of any use outside the shielded building, but once inside they could use it to sweep several floors in either direction.
They had agreed to sweep the back half of the ring-shaped building, top to bottom, before risking the concentration of guards in the front area. It was a careful business, finding a stairway or better yet a ventilation shaft that could get them quietly from level to level. It didn't take long though. By the eighth floor down H.B. had a reading, and in four more floors the signal was assuredly coming from the next level. The only problem was that the corridors were becoming more heavily populated. A guard almost surprised them, but Frye made quick and quiet work of him.
"Clock's started, boys. Let's get Doug."
a/n: Not great at writing Yelv, so this was a tiny challenge. Shout out to 8-4 for their excellent localization. Short, because I want to go for a walk.
Next up: they get Doug, except he's made a friend.