(AN: The only things I own are my computer, bed, pizza debts, and a love
slave in a bunny suit that looks strangely like Terra from FF6. The salve,
not the suit...Well, anyway, I don't own the MMX Crew, but my guys can only
be used with permission, and if ye ask, ye shall surely receive.)
Lifesavor trudged out of Medical, muttering under his breath and staring holes into the floor. He drug his feet, as he always did, his grumbling growing a little louder then falling with the pace of his steps. He was completely oblivious to the world, and in a worse mood than ever. As the doors closed behind him, he took one look at the woman standing outside and plopped down on a waiting bench, ceaseless in his low mumbles.
"So...what's the sitch, Doc?" Alia asked. She looked at him with a look mixed with concern and fatigue. She felt like she'd been leaning against that wall for hours, and for all she knew, she probably had been. "How is he?"
Lifesavor paused for a moment then looked up. After a few empty blinks, he grimaced and began what was known around Hunter Base as the Doc Talk. "Commander, it's no surprise that the rookies may call me 'Doc', but I would expect some degree of respect, of sophistication from the leader of the Maverick Hunters. My name is-"
"Doc, I don't-"
'LIFESAVOR!!! And another thing, how do you expect me to patch up your troops with this antiquated gear. Douglas may like playing with relics, but I am a DOCTOR!!! You know what I found today???!"
"You know, I really don't-"
"A WRENCH!!!! A Wrench, Alia! How am I supposed to work under these conditions, especially with that little damage magnet of a rookie?! For five years, FIVE YEARS, I have worked and slaved and-"
"DDDDOOOCCCCCCC!!!!!!" The small crowd that had formed for the day's session of Doc Talk quickly scattered, as the commander they knew and loved revealed her true colors. Picking up the reploid who was a full head taller, she slammed him into the wall and glared an inferno directly into his rapidly widening eyes. "I don't give a damn if they give you god-damned SCREWDRIVERS!!! We've got no money, and I am sick and tired of your whining! I've never been forced to use my Buster, but if you don't shut the fuck up and tell me Night's condition, I'm going to blast that STICK OUT OF YOUR ASS!!!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Dropping him with a grunt, Alia fell onto the bench. With a great sigh, she rolled over onto her back. "Now...how is he?" All of the anger in her eyes had evaporated, and now it seemed as if tears were beginning to form.
Lifesavor scratched his head, confused and more than a little scared, then shrugged. "Well, it's not good. He'll live, of course, since this is MY Medical Bay..." Her frown quickly cut off the forming rant. "Well, it's bad. I've repaired all of the major damage, and unloaded a vat of synthskin onto him, but it's not that simple. His entire sensory grid was fried by the steam. Sight, hearing, touch...It's all gone, and a reploid's nervous system is still a mystery. I...there's nothing I can do."
Alia was frozen as she listened, hanging on his every word. As he finished, the tears were flowing freely She sat up, covering her face in her hands as everything sunk in. The doctor just stood there, staring at the floor. Finally, her choked sobs came to a stop, and she looked up. Her eyes were red from her fit of crying, but her expression was almost calm. "Can I see him now?"
Lifesavor merely nodded, stalking off towards the cafeteria. "Don't see the harm...I'm going to go get as befuddled as a reploid can. You shouldn't need me for anything..." Then, her turned a corner and was gone.
_____________________________________________________________
Night felt himself drifting through his mind. He knew he was in stasis, and he knew why, but as his consciousness floated about, he didn't really want to wake up quite yet. When he did, he knew he'd have to face Alia, face Serrael, face the fact he'd killed someone else, and that no one cared. *Yes*, he thought,* I'd much rather sleep.*
As he drifted, his thoughts drifted back and forth between memories. Flashes of faces, bits and pieces of voices seemed to pass over him as he floated in the darkness. He could see Sol's frown, one of Alia's bloodthirsty scowls, and, to his surprise, an annoying smirk from Serrael. He was about to investigate this new development in his dream state, but an uncomfortable weight on his chest caused the images to shatter, and the darkness became total as he awoke.
At first, he didn't feel anything, only that something was on his chest. Then, slowly, he felt every part of his body begin to grow sore. Even his eyes felt like they were on fire, and he felt them forced open by some unknown control. At first, the image was just a white blur, but color slowly bled into it, forming a familiar ceiling, the antiseptic white of the Med Bay. Faint green text flashed in his peripheral vision.
X-PROBE ACTIVATION COMPLETE. REGENERATING....
The feeling of soreness gradually faded as he stared at the blinking message, unable to move. Then it was gone, replaced by a single word, which soon vanished with the rest.
DONE!
Alia had fallen asleep next to the bed, after another long period of mourning over Night's comatose form. She had cried herself to sleep, unable to lift herself from her firm, desperate embrace. She was just beginning to rouse when an arm wrapped around her back. At first, she smiled, thinking she was still dreaming. "You're back...", she mumbled, yawning with a cute smirk. But as her mind caught up with her and her eyes fluttered open, her reaction set in.
Night found himself lying on the floor as Alia jumped straight back, rolling him off of the cot. She leaned against the back wall, as if trying to push it backwards, flailing her arms wildly and screaming as he pulled himself off of the floor. "...The hell are you doing?! Calm down, dammit."
Apparently, she couldn't hear his voice, muffled by the floor. "You- You're supposed to be paralyzed!!! What the hell's going on?! Was that a spasm?! IS HE DEAD?!!! LIFESAVOR!!!!!!!!" Running to the door, she slammed through it, blazing a path through anyone in her way to the mess.
Night managed to climb onto the bed, chuckling to himself between groans of discomfort. "Damn, I'm sore...better go after her...Now, where do I find some new clothes..."
_____________________________________________________________
After consoling a hysterical Alia, fighting to refuse a few hundred gallons of liquor from the other Hunters, and consoling a hysterical Douglas over the totaled Chaser, Night found himself marching down the hall to the Brig. And he still hadn't managed to get suitably black clothing, so he was restricted to his armor. It didn't really exist as a prison for Mavericks, but the GDC had started a trial program, and its conversion was the end result. *GDC trials...Where any reploid can justly and equally be found guilty of any crime...* he thought. *Why the hell am I here, anyway?*
His confusion hadn't been remedied by Alia. She had spent the few hours he had been up torn between crying over, hugging, and throttling Night for his latest mission. *She's like family, but I gotta get away from her...*
As he entered the brig's main hall, he noticed an arrhythmic thumping coming from somewhere, but put it out of his mind. A nearby Hunter waved him over, rising from his seat outside of the nearest cell. He was humanoid, with wild strands of dark green hair coming out of the sides of his helmet. The helmet itself wasn't standard issue, with an extended cap and a spiked fin on each side. His armor was a mix of green and black, and a Commander's mark was etched in silver his shoulder plates. As Night walked over, a confident smirk crept onto his face as he stood.
Night looked him over, then shrugged. "Who the hell are you?" The Hunter's smile faded almost instantly.
"Don't you know the Commander of the 14th when you see him...Man, you really ARE a dunce." He shook his head, falling back onto his chair. "Name's Slate, but you can call me Sir, greenhorn."
Night spluttered, balling his hands into fists. "G-g-greenhorn?! Why, you little jackass...You're greener than I am!" he said. "And who are you calling stupid? The only stupid thing I see here is some wannabe UC with bunny ears on his head!!!"
"THOSE ARE DRAGON EARS!!! I oughta kick your sorry ass, but that would be too easy...but you'll get yours." Before Night could respond, cocked his head towards the door behind him. "Anyhoo, don't you think it's time we interrogate the prisoners?"
Fighting hard to compose himself, Night managed not to punch this newcomer in the face. Once he was fully calm, he took time to think about what Slate had just said. "Wait a minute, what prisoners? Aqueous went critical!"
"Nah...no such luck. She's pretty banged up and her weapon arm was blown all to hell, but she's still alive. Seems like she's clean, too. Not even a trace of the Virus. Alia gave us orders to get some info on the Angels before the GDC gets their hands on her, so shall we?"
With a grunt and a nod, they entered the cell. In the dim light, Night could see her sitting in a corner, eyes open but vacant. She didn't seem to notice them enter. Night almost felt relieved when he saw her. "So...I didn't kill her..."
Slate shrugged. "Nah. She pretty much kicked your ass." he said, chuckling to himself as he shut the door. "She was hell of a lot better off than you, that's for sure. When we found her, she was conscious, but she's been like this ever since." He shuddered a bit as he crossed her line of sight. "Well, rookie, you're up."
"Me?" Night asked. He glanced back and forth between Slate and the girl who was just sitting there, oblivious. "All right..."
Creeping forward, he kneeled next to her. "I know you can hear me, Aqueous...Cooperate, and I'll try to help you. Now, what is the Angel Corps?"
Her eyes remained unfocused as she flatly ignored him. She didn't even blink. "Okay...What have you done with Sol?" Again, silence. "Why did you attack the news station? Dammit, answer me!!!"
At that moment, it was as if someone pressed an ON button. She pounced, her eyes aflame with rage. She began to beat at him with her remaining arm, pinning him with her legs, screaming at the top of her lungs. It took their combined strengths to get her off of Night. Slate quickly pulled them both out of the room, slamming the door. For a while, she pounded at the door, screaming curses and "Murderer!" at the top of her lungs. They both hung on to the opposite wall, worried that her emotional blows might actually break a door designed for the strongest reploids. Finally, she stopped, sobbing openly as she crawled back to her corner.
After a while, Slate managed a high whistle. "That went well...On to the next one. She's mine...and DAMN is she fine!!!" He ran straight for a door at the end of the hall, but Night beat him to it with a dash burst. "Now, hold on a minute, what next one? It was just me and Aqueous!"
Failing to push Night aside, Slate yanked helplessly at the door. In the back of his mind, Night noticed that the constant thumping seemed louder. "Apparently not, rook. This hot babe was found on the scene and led us to the both of you. She was hot as hell, but she didn't match up in the Registry, so she's being detained. Did I mention she's hot? That said, get out of my way!"
"Wait...she's hot? You don't mean-" In Night's moment of distraction, Slate pushed him aside and quickly ducked into the cell, with his companion hot on his heels. Night let out an annoyed groan as soon as he saw who was there.
"Nighty Light! Get me outta here! Closed spaces are NOT my idea of fun! Can't breathe! I CAN'T BREATHE!!!"
Night frowned at the insane woman, who was now bouncing back and forth like a pinball on the walls. "Um, Miss Ashton, reploids don't really NEED to breathe. It's just a habit-"
"Lemme out, lemme out, lemme out, lemme out, lemme out-"
"SHUT UP!!!!" Night grabbed onto her, holding her still. By now, Slate was on the floor, the fits of laughter bringing him to his knees.
"Ooh, firm grip. Did I ever tell you that you're cute in that armor? You're so scrawny without it...still kawaii, but scrawny..."
Tossing her aside, Night felt a nervous tic start up again in his face. Slate just kept laughing like a fool on the ground, slapping at the wall. "Dammit, are you supposed to be British or Japanese?!"
"Why, whatever you want me to be, Nighty Light..."
"Don't call me that!"
"Nighty Light! AH HA HA HA HA! That's rich!" Slate yelled, his giggling turning to spasms.
"Get the hell outta here, bunny boy!" Night yelled.
"DRAGON!!!"
"OUT!!!!!" Dragging the still-laughing Hunter by his helmet, he tossed him out of the cell, slamming the door behind him. "Now...I'm not letting you out of here until you give me some straight answers..."
Serrael merely smiled, lying on the small cot bolted to the wall. "Why, when the crooked ones are SO much more fun, luv?"
Night grumbled for a bit after that statement, then chose to ignore it. "What do the Angels want?"
"Oh, is that all, luv? We just want to spread the gospel to our reploid brethren. Such a godless age, you know. We could use a little faith and unconditional love, don't you think?" She winked at him, causing him to redden a bit.
"Robbing factories and killing newsmen isn't exactly Christian of you." he said, crossing his arms.
"There's a few bad apples in every bunch, and there's a rotten one influencing our leader...this Master bloke...what a bloody git he is..." she muttered. "Why do you think I helped you out? Master's up to no good, but he's got his hooks in Father..."
Night took a moment to absorb this, then sat down next to her.
"Okay, so who's this Father?"
"Our master."
"But I thought you said your master was bad?"
"That's Master, not Father. Father's really my father."
"So Master isn't the master, but Father's the master, who's being controlled by Master...Wait, you're all related? I thought Ignis and Aqueous had a thing...Eww..."
Serrael scowled, an exasperated scowl leaving her lips. "Not really! Father's only really the father to me and my brother, Gabriel. The bloke who you de-armed a few days ago?"
Night looked confused for a moment, but soon caught on. "Oh, him...Wait a minute, if you guys are so honorable, why'd you attack the Hunters?"
She shrugged, leaning on his shoulder. He started to push her off, but something held him back. "We weren't after the Hunters, silly...well, my brother was. You see, a Hunter killed our mother., so he holds a grudge, but I'm over it."
"What were you after then?"
"Your brother." As soon as she said it, Night was on his feet. He'd almost forgotten about him while they were talking, but it all came back to him in a flash, and he was suddenly on his guard, again.
"Why?! Have you hurt him?"
"To recruit him! He's unharmed. Matter of fact, he's being given every freedom, well, except when we took his weapons and his warp generator...Aside from that, he does what he wants, and he hasn't complained!"
"That...that doesn't make any damn sense!" After that, there was silence. Both tried to say things, but the tension stifled whatever they wanted to tell the other. For a while, they just stared at each other. They were broken from their trance when Slate barged through the door, a broad grin on his face and a datapad tucked under his arm. "Hello, lovebirds!"
"Hmphh!" They said in unison, turning away from the other.
"Fine, sheesh. Well, did you get anything for our report?"
"Yeah, I got-"
"Wait, is that datapad connected to the Net?" Serrael asked, grabbing it away.
"Hey!" Slate exclaimed, trying to take it back with very little success. They ran in circles around Night, who was fuming at the spectacle.
"I'm just checking the Registry!"
"We already checked it, and you're not on it, now gimme that!" Slate finally pried it loose, panting from the effort. "Fine, I'll check it again."
As he began to type into the pad, Serrael started to hum to herself, delighted. Night leaned on the wall, feeling a sudden need for some fresh air. After a moment, Slate let out a confused grunt and typed a few more commands as his eyes began to widen.
"What's up, bunny?" Night asked.
Slate didn't even notice the insult. He kept typing into the pad, with the same end result. "She's registered! More than that, it seems that she's a Hunter!"
"WHAT?!! Lemme see that!" Night grabbed it from him, and soon himself stuttering in amazement.
NAME: SERRAEL ASHTON
CREATOR: CAIN LABS
DATE COMPLETED: August 4th, 219X
PURPOSE: Hunter Technician
EQUIPMENT: Flight Capability, Advanced CPU, Total synth-frame.
CLEARANCE: A
"How did you do this?! I mean, you're a-"
"Hunter! It was my first day today, and here I'm locked up, just because I tried to help you! I mean, really, Nighty Light, how rude! Now, if you'll excuse me..." Without waiting for an answer, she strolled out of the cell, smiling from ear to ear.
Slate whistled softly to himself as he headed for the door. "Damn, she's got an ass on her...Well, I'm gonna give her a tour, maybe ending at my quarters, eh? You know a total replicate frame means...she can-" Night slammed the door after him, sliding to the ground of her former cell.
"What the freakin' HELL is going on here?!"
(Well, that took longer than I thought. Ah, well. Anyway, I have few things to address. First of all, I am male, Imp-chan. Sorry, all you fawning guys out there, but I prefer the softer side of the spectrum...
RandomGuy: But we never liked you in the first-AAAGH!!!
...Anyway. Second, thanks for all the reviews! 14 reviews, whew...even if about 13 were from Imp...makes me feel all warm. Now, if only I could get these suckers out faster...)
Lifesavor trudged out of Medical, muttering under his breath and staring holes into the floor. He drug his feet, as he always did, his grumbling growing a little louder then falling with the pace of his steps. He was completely oblivious to the world, and in a worse mood than ever. As the doors closed behind him, he took one look at the woman standing outside and plopped down on a waiting bench, ceaseless in his low mumbles.
"So...what's the sitch, Doc?" Alia asked. She looked at him with a look mixed with concern and fatigue. She felt like she'd been leaning against that wall for hours, and for all she knew, she probably had been. "How is he?"
Lifesavor paused for a moment then looked up. After a few empty blinks, he grimaced and began what was known around Hunter Base as the Doc Talk. "Commander, it's no surprise that the rookies may call me 'Doc', but I would expect some degree of respect, of sophistication from the leader of the Maverick Hunters. My name is-"
"Doc, I don't-"
'LIFESAVOR!!! And another thing, how do you expect me to patch up your troops with this antiquated gear. Douglas may like playing with relics, but I am a DOCTOR!!! You know what I found today???!"
"You know, I really don't-"
"A WRENCH!!!! A Wrench, Alia! How am I supposed to work under these conditions, especially with that little damage magnet of a rookie?! For five years, FIVE YEARS, I have worked and slaved and-"
"DDDDOOOCCCCCCC!!!!!!" The small crowd that had formed for the day's session of Doc Talk quickly scattered, as the commander they knew and loved revealed her true colors. Picking up the reploid who was a full head taller, she slammed him into the wall and glared an inferno directly into his rapidly widening eyes. "I don't give a damn if they give you god-damned SCREWDRIVERS!!! We've got no money, and I am sick and tired of your whining! I've never been forced to use my Buster, but if you don't shut the fuck up and tell me Night's condition, I'm going to blast that STICK OUT OF YOUR ASS!!!! HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?!!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Dropping him with a grunt, Alia fell onto the bench. With a great sigh, she rolled over onto her back. "Now...how is he?" All of the anger in her eyes had evaporated, and now it seemed as if tears were beginning to form.
Lifesavor scratched his head, confused and more than a little scared, then shrugged. "Well, it's not good. He'll live, of course, since this is MY Medical Bay..." Her frown quickly cut off the forming rant. "Well, it's bad. I've repaired all of the major damage, and unloaded a vat of synthskin onto him, but it's not that simple. His entire sensory grid was fried by the steam. Sight, hearing, touch...It's all gone, and a reploid's nervous system is still a mystery. I...there's nothing I can do."
Alia was frozen as she listened, hanging on his every word. As he finished, the tears were flowing freely She sat up, covering her face in her hands as everything sunk in. The doctor just stood there, staring at the floor. Finally, her choked sobs came to a stop, and she looked up. Her eyes were red from her fit of crying, but her expression was almost calm. "Can I see him now?"
Lifesavor merely nodded, stalking off towards the cafeteria. "Don't see the harm...I'm going to go get as befuddled as a reploid can. You shouldn't need me for anything..." Then, her turned a corner and was gone.
_____________________________________________________________
Night felt himself drifting through his mind. He knew he was in stasis, and he knew why, but as his consciousness floated about, he didn't really want to wake up quite yet. When he did, he knew he'd have to face Alia, face Serrael, face the fact he'd killed someone else, and that no one cared. *Yes*, he thought,* I'd much rather sleep.*
As he drifted, his thoughts drifted back and forth between memories. Flashes of faces, bits and pieces of voices seemed to pass over him as he floated in the darkness. He could see Sol's frown, one of Alia's bloodthirsty scowls, and, to his surprise, an annoying smirk from Serrael. He was about to investigate this new development in his dream state, but an uncomfortable weight on his chest caused the images to shatter, and the darkness became total as he awoke.
At first, he didn't feel anything, only that something was on his chest. Then, slowly, he felt every part of his body begin to grow sore. Even his eyes felt like they were on fire, and he felt them forced open by some unknown control. At first, the image was just a white blur, but color slowly bled into it, forming a familiar ceiling, the antiseptic white of the Med Bay. Faint green text flashed in his peripheral vision.
X-PROBE ACTIVATION COMPLETE. REGENERATING....
The feeling of soreness gradually faded as he stared at the blinking message, unable to move. Then it was gone, replaced by a single word, which soon vanished with the rest.
DONE!
Alia had fallen asleep next to the bed, after another long period of mourning over Night's comatose form. She had cried herself to sleep, unable to lift herself from her firm, desperate embrace. She was just beginning to rouse when an arm wrapped around her back. At first, she smiled, thinking she was still dreaming. "You're back...", she mumbled, yawning with a cute smirk. But as her mind caught up with her and her eyes fluttered open, her reaction set in.
Night found himself lying on the floor as Alia jumped straight back, rolling him off of the cot. She leaned against the back wall, as if trying to push it backwards, flailing her arms wildly and screaming as he pulled himself off of the floor. "...The hell are you doing?! Calm down, dammit."
Apparently, she couldn't hear his voice, muffled by the floor. "You- You're supposed to be paralyzed!!! What the hell's going on?! Was that a spasm?! IS HE DEAD?!!! LIFESAVOR!!!!!!!!" Running to the door, she slammed through it, blazing a path through anyone in her way to the mess.
Night managed to climb onto the bed, chuckling to himself between groans of discomfort. "Damn, I'm sore...better go after her...Now, where do I find some new clothes..."
_____________________________________________________________
After consoling a hysterical Alia, fighting to refuse a few hundred gallons of liquor from the other Hunters, and consoling a hysterical Douglas over the totaled Chaser, Night found himself marching down the hall to the Brig. And he still hadn't managed to get suitably black clothing, so he was restricted to his armor. It didn't really exist as a prison for Mavericks, but the GDC had started a trial program, and its conversion was the end result. *GDC trials...Where any reploid can justly and equally be found guilty of any crime...* he thought. *Why the hell am I here, anyway?*
His confusion hadn't been remedied by Alia. She had spent the few hours he had been up torn between crying over, hugging, and throttling Night for his latest mission. *She's like family, but I gotta get away from her...*
As he entered the brig's main hall, he noticed an arrhythmic thumping coming from somewhere, but put it out of his mind. A nearby Hunter waved him over, rising from his seat outside of the nearest cell. He was humanoid, with wild strands of dark green hair coming out of the sides of his helmet. The helmet itself wasn't standard issue, with an extended cap and a spiked fin on each side. His armor was a mix of green and black, and a Commander's mark was etched in silver his shoulder plates. As Night walked over, a confident smirk crept onto his face as he stood.
Night looked him over, then shrugged. "Who the hell are you?" The Hunter's smile faded almost instantly.
"Don't you know the Commander of the 14th when you see him...Man, you really ARE a dunce." He shook his head, falling back onto his chair. "Name's Slate, but you can call me Sir, greenhorn."
Night spluttered, balling his hands into fists. "G-g-greenhorn?! Why, you little jackass...You're greener than I am!" he said. "And who are you calling stupid? The only stupid thing I see here is some wannabe UC with bunny ears on his head!!!"
"THOSE ARE DRAGON EARS!!! I oughta kick your sorry ass, but that would be too easy...but you'll get yours." Before Night could respond, cocked his head towards the door behind him. "Anyhoo, don't you think it's time we interrogate the prisoners?"
Fighting hard to compose himself, Night managed not to punch this newcomer in the face. Once he was fully calm, he took time to think about what Slate had just said. "Wait a minute, what prisoners? Aqueous went critical!"
"Nah...no such luck. She's pretty banged up and her weapon arm was blown all to hell, but she's still alive. Seems like she's clean, too. Not even a trace of the Virus. Alia gave us orders to get some info on the Angels before the GDC gets their hands on her, so shall we?"
With a grunt and a nod, they entered the cell. In the dim light, Night could see her sitting in a corner, eyes open but vacant. She didn't seem to notice them enter. Night almost felt relieved when he saw her. "So...I didn't kill her..."
Slate shrugged. "Nah. She pretty much kicked your ass." he said, chuckling to himself as he shut the door. "She was hell of a lot better off than you, that's for sure. When we found her, she was conscious, but she's been like this ever since." He shuddered a bit as he crossed her line of sight. "Well, rookie, you're up."
"Me?" Night asked. He glanced back and forth between Slate and the girl who was just sitting there, oblivious. "All right..."
Creeping forward, he kneeled next to her. "I know you can hear me, Aqueous...Cooperate, and I'll try to help you. Now, what is the Angel Corps?"
Her eyes remained unfocused as she flatly ignored him. She didn't even blink. "Okay...What have you done with Sol?" Again, silence. "Why did you attack the news station? Dammit, answer me!!!"
At that moment, it was as if someone pressed an ON button. She pounced, her eyes aflame with rage. She began to beat at him with her remaining arm, pinning him with her legs, screaming at the top of her lungs. It took their combined strengths to get her off of Night. Slate quickly pulled them both out of the room, slamming the door. For a while, she pounded at the door, screaming curses and "Murderer!" at the top of her lungs. They both hung on to the opposite wall, worried that her emotional blows might actually break a door designed for the strongest reploids. Finally, she stopped, sobbing openly as she crawled back to her corner.
After a while, Slate managed a high whistle. "That went well...On to the next one. She's mine...and DAMN is she fine!!!" He ran straight for a door at the end of the hall, but Night beat him to it with a dash burst. "Now, hold on a minute, what next one? It was just me and Aqueous!"
Failing to push Night aside, Slate yanked helplessly at the door. In the back of his mind, Night noticed that the constant thumping seemed louder. "Apparently not, rook. This hot babe was found on the scene and led us to the both of you. She was hot as hell, but she didn't match up in the Registry, so she's being detained. Did I mention she's hot? That said, get out of my way!"
"Wait...she's hot? You don't mean-" In Night's moment of distraction, Slate pushed him aside and quickly ducked into the cell, with his companion hot on his heels. Night let out an annoyed groan as soon as he saw who was there.
"Nighty Light! Get me outta here! Closed spaces are NOT my idea of fun! Can't breathe! I CAN'T BREATHE!!!"
Night frowned at the insane woman, who was now bouncing back and forth like a pinball on the walls. "Um, Miss Ashton, reploids don't really NEED to breathe. It's just a habit-"
"Lemme out, lemme out, lemme out, lemme out, lemme out-"
"SHUT UP!!!!" Night grabbed onto her, holding her still. By now, Slate was on the floor, the fits of laughter bringing him to his knees.
"Ooh, firm grip. Did I ever tell you that you're cute in that armor? You're so scrawny without it...still kawaii, but scrawny..."
Tossing her aside, Night felt a nervous tic start up again in his face. Slate just kept laughing like a fool on the ground, slapping at the wall. "Dammit, are you supposed to be British or Japanese?!"
"Why, whatever you want me to be, Nighty Light..."
"Don't call me that!"
"Nighty Light! AH HA HA HA HA! That's rich!" Slate yelled, his giggling turning to spasms.
"Get the hell outta here, bunny boy!" Night yelled.
"DRAGON!!!"
"OUT!!!!!" Dragging the still-laughing Hunter by his helmet, he tossed him out of the cell, slamming the door behind him. "Now...I'm not letting you out of here until you give me some straight answers..."
Serrael merely smiled, lying on the small cot bolted to the wall. "Why, when the crooked ones are SO much more fun, luv?"
Night grumbled for a bit after that statement, then chose to ignore it. "What do the Angels want?"
"Oh, is that all, luv? We just want to spread the gospel to our reploid brethren. Such a godless age, you know. We could use a little faith and unconditional love, don't you think?" She winked at him, causing him to redden a bit.
"Robbing factories and killing newsmen isn't exactly Christian of you." he said, crossing his arms.
"There's a few bad apples in every bunch, and there's a rotten one influencing our leader...this Master bloke...what a bloody git he is..." she muttered. "Why do you think I helped you out? Master's up to no good, but he's got his hooks in Father..."
Night took a moment to absorb this, then sat down next to her.
"Okay, so who's this Father?"
"Our master."
"But I thought you said your master was bad?"
"That's Master, not Father. Father's really my father."
"So Master isn't the master, but Father's the master, who's being controlled by Master...Wait, you're all related? I thought Ignis and Aqueous had a thing...Eww..."
Serrael scowled, an exasperated scowl leaving her lips. "Not really! Father's only really the father to me and my brother, Gabriel. The bloke who you de-armed a few days ago?"
Night looked confused for a moment, but soon caught on. "Oh, him...Wait a minute, if you guys are so honorable, why'd you attack the Hunters?"
She shrugged, leaning on his shoulder. He started to push her off, but something held him back. "We weren't after the Hunters, silly...well, my brother was. You see, a Hunter killed our mother., so he holds a grudge, but I'm over it."
"What were you after then?"
"Your brother." As soon as she said it, Night was on his feet. He'd almost forgotten about him while they were talking, but it all came back to him in a flash, and he was suddenly on his guard, again.
"Why?! Have you hurt him?"
"To recruit him! He's unharmed. Matter of fact, he's being given every freedom, well, except when we took his weapons and his warp generator...Aside from that, he does what he wants, and he hasn't complained!"
"That...that doesn't make any damn sense!" After that, there was silence. Both tried to say things, but the tension stifled whatever they wanted to tell the other. For a while, they just stared at each other. They were broken from their trance when Slate barged through the door, a broad grin on his face and a datapad tucked under his arm. "Hello, lovebirds!"
"Hmphh!" They said in unison, turning away from the other.
"Fine, sheesh. Well, did you get anything for our report?"
"Yeah, I got-"
"Wait, is that datapad connected to the Net?" Serrael asked, grabbing it away.
"Hey!" Slate exclaimed, trying to take it back with very little success. They ran in circles around Night, who was fuming at the spectacle.
"I'm just checking the Registry!"
"We already checked it, and you're not on it, now gimme that!" Slate finally pried it loose, panting from the effort. "Fine, I'll check it again."
As he began to type into the pad, Serrael started to hum to herself, delighted. Night leaned on the wall, feeling a sudden need for some fresh air. After a moment, Slate let out a confused grunt and typed a few more commands as his eyes began to widen.
"What's up, bunny?" Night asked.
Slate didn't even notice the insult. He kept typing into the pad, with the same end result. "She's registered! More than that, it seems that she's a Hunter!"
"WHAT?!! Lemme see that!" Night grabbed it from him, and soon himself stuttering in amazement.
NAME: SERRAEL ASHTON
CREATOR: CAIN LABS
DATE COMPLETED: August 4th, 219X
PURPOSE: Hunter Technician
EQUIPMENT: Flight Capability, Advanced CPU, Total synth-frame.
CLEARANCE: A
"How did you do this?! I mean, you're a-"
"Hunter! It was my first day today, and here I'm locked up, just because I tried to help you! I mean, really, Nighty Light, how rude! Now, if you'll excuse me..." Without waiting for an answer, she strolled out of the cell, smiling from ear to ear.
Slate whistled softly to himself as he headed for the door. "Damn, she's got an ass on her...Well, I'm gonna give her a tour, maybe ending at my quarters, eh? You know a total replicate frame means...she can-" Night slammed the door after him, sliding to the ground of her former cell.
"What the freakin' HELL is going on here?!"
(Well, that took longer than I thought. Ah, well. Anyway, I have few things to address. First of all, I am male, Imp-chan. Sorry, all you fawning guys out there, but I prefer the softer side of the spectrum...
RandomGuy: But we never liked you in the first-AAAGH!!!
...Anyway. Second, thanks for all the reviews! 14 reviews, whew...even if about 13 were from Imp...makes me feel all warm. Now, if only I could get these suckers out faster...)