Tags: High Noon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Summary:
The plan is set, the stage ready, there is no reason to delay. Win or lose, live or die, the fate of Kadara rests on the hands of Kate Ryder whether she likes it or not.
Ryder frowned, her brow tightening, a vice was trying to crush her skull. A sigh hissed out of her mouth as her nostrils flared. Her fingers reached up to her temples and kneaded. They fought a losing battle trying to chase the headache away. Over and over, fingers pressing against skin rubbed raw, nails cutting lines against the throbbing of her temples.
"Fuck," the curse escaped like steam from a high pressure valve.
She threw the datapad she was reading onto the desk and leaned her head back against the chair. Her neck popped alarmingly as she let it fall backwards. "SAM," she called.
"Yes, Pathfinder?" the AI replied instantly.
"You're sure about this?"
"Yes, the pattern matches up."
"Shit."
She squeezed her eyes shut. It had been days since SAM reported he had something definite to show her. That's all she had been doing, poring over the data that SAM had collated. She knew in her gut Reyes wasn't a simple smuggler. Nobody was simply anything, not on Kadara, not in Andromeda. Look at her. She was supposed to be a recon specialist, but here she was, the fucking Pathfinder. Thanks Dad.
"Then, he works for the Collective?" she asked hopefully.
"Or he is the Charlatan," SAM replied.
There goes that. "Yeah," she sighed, opening her eyes. "Either way, we have to be careful how we step around him. Kadara's power balance is shaky at best."
Ryder pushed herself up and tidied the stack of datapads. She was beyond exhausted. Running missions in the day and scouring this data in the night, she had less than ideal sleep over the past week.
"Pathfinder, what are you doing to do?" SAM's voice was pitched low, probably picking up on her elevated pulse or something.
She braced her hands against her desk and hunched over. The stretch seared down her neck into her skull, she could feel it behind her eyes. "Nothing."
"Pathfinder?"
"Nothing," she repeated, lifting her head and straightening. "I'm not doing anything about it. Kadara doesn't need my interference."
She stepped out of her quarters. The lights outside were dimmed, leaving only red strips lighting the corridors enough so that nobody, especially the humans, would trip and smash their heads open. She tip-toed over to the showers and got cleaned up, unwilling to risk Lexi's pointed looks and lectures about a proper eight hour sleep for humans. Her stomach growled as she inched her way back towards her quarters, she stopped and pressed a hand against her gut. Drack would be awake, and he would probably talk so loudly that he'd give her away. Grimacing, she took herself and her angry gut back to her room.
Ryder plopped onto her back, arms and legs splayed wide out on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, watching as the light from outside shifted and danced between shades of grey. She liked it when they weren't in transit, being on a planet felt different. There was a weight to things, but the one pressing against her chest ached.
"Am I being stupid?" she asked out loud.
The room remained silent.
Reyes glared at the datapad in his hand. If looks could kill the datapad would have combusted spontaneously already. His grip whitened his knuckles. He sat alone in the room above Tartarus. The heavy bass from below thumped against the floorboards. He could feel it through his boots, running up his legs, travelling along his spine, spiking inside his head, solid, strong and relentless, exactly like the pounding behind his eyes.
He sighed and forced his fingers to relax. "You've read the reports?" Eyes cutting over to the terminal with an active secure connection.
Keema nodded. "This is serious. A security breach like this can only mean one thing."
"Kelly is onto us," Reyes completed the thought.
She nodded, her gaze intent as she leaned towards her screen. The effect was lost since she wasn't looming in person, but in this crucial time, it was vital nobody put two and two together. Reyes squeezed the bridge of his nose.
"Reyes," Keema called, her voice tight with frustration. "We can't wait."
He didn't speak, instead he concentrated on keeping his skull from splitting apart.
"Reyes."
In through his nose, out through his mouth.
"Reyes!"
His eyes snapped up and held Keema's gaze, an intensity that made her flinch. He took a deep breath. "I know. The plan have to be brought forward. We're doing this now."
She looked somewhat satisfied. He had expected her to terminate the connection. There was, after all, a shit load of work to do before they could make their move.
"What?" he growled.
"Are you going to tell her?"
"Who?"
"You know who I mean," Keema insisted.
"No," Reyes said, his eyes narrowed. "No, leave her out this."
Keema shook her head. "I hope you don't regret this, boy."
He stiffened, eyes narrowing. Like a mask that descended over his face, a feral grin tugged at his lips, "Mind your words, you know who is running the show here, Keema."
She sighed and held his gaze. A weight pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. After, he promised himself. Once Kelly wasn't a problem, he'd tell Ryder. Right now, he had to concentrate on the threat. These security incursions into the Collective's system wasn't something to be taken lightly. Someone made away with intel, intel he couldn't afford to have stolen. There was only one path left for him, to act.
"I'll get things moving," Keema said.
"Do that." He terminated the connection.
"What's wrong?" Cora asked.
Ryder lifted her head and dismissed the message on her omni-tool. "Nothing."
Cora's eyes narrowed. "Ryder, you're sighing, very loudly."
"Is it a crime to sigh now?" she asked, throwing her hands up and sighed again. She caught herself and it just frustrated her that much more.
Cora pressed her lips thin in a bid to keep from laughing out loud. "Is it Tann?"
Ryder made a face. "You know this is the one time I'd rather sit in a meeting with Tann."
Cora slid onto the bench next to her, their shoulders bumping. Ryder lifted her cup to drink only to find it empty. She thumped it back onto the table with yet another sigh.
"Come on, what's bothering you? The message?" She shifted so that she could look at Ryder properly. Her eyes darting across the Pathfinder's face, noticing her dark eye rings and sallow skin.
Ryder tapped her omni-tool, triggering the screen. She all but shoved it into Cora's face. The message was seared into her mind already, she didn't need to read it again to know what it said. For it to come so quickly on the heels of her own discovery, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
"So Sloane wants to see you," Cora pointed out. "What's the big deal? You've have handled her before and you may be able to see your favourite smuggler too."
Ryder sighed.
Cora shook her head and chuckled. "This is a chronic case of sighs, I think I had better ping Lexi to come take a look at you."
"Might be terminal," she moaned dramatically, placing a hand on her forehead.
"Perish the thought, Ryder. Lexi will have a cure," Cora reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "But seriously, you don't have to carry everything by yourself, you know that right?"
Ryder leaned her full weight against Cora. "Yeah, I know. I wish…" Though her gaze was directed straight ahead, she wasn't looking at the various devices arrayed at the gallery's counter, she was looking at a future that was already closed to her. A future where she wasn't Pathfinder, she wasn't anything just a soldier under her father's command, where her family wasn't stripped down into its component pieces.
"You wish?" Cora prompted, pushing back against Ryder's weight.
She swallowed the words that threatened to spill her inner most thoughts. It wasn't fair to Cora, and it'd only served to dredge up painful memories they had put behind them, so she found different ones.
"I fucking wish Sloane doesn't treat me like one of her mercs. I'm not at her beck and call," she blurted. "Who does she think I am? Her fucking slave?"
Cora snorted, relief tugged her lips into a smile.
Taking that as a sign to keep going, Ryder went on. "I am not paid enough for this shit. Investigate these murders, ignore my drug making factory, get rid of the kett. Fucking hell."
Cora lifted her hands in surrender. "What have I unleashed?"
"Am I even being paid for this?" Ryder asked, the thought had never occured to her before. The Tempest has its own budget but what about their salaries? Was she risking life and limb and not getting paid for it?
"All right, all right. I'll go tell Kallo to get us to Kadara ASAP," Cora said, inching her way towards the door.
"No wait!" Ryder called out as Cora was mid-way out the door. Now that the thought had occured to her, she needed to know. "Are we fucking being paid?"
"Yes," Cora replied as she made her escape.
"But how much?" The door closed.
Ryder deflated like a whoopee cushion. Her headache had only intensified since she got the message from Sloane. Last night's sleep was completely useless.
We need to talk. Come to Kadara. ASAP."Fucking hell," Ryder sighed.
The Nomad rolled to a stop. Ryder could see the Outcast's vehicle already parked. Sloane and her people were milling about outside. She turned to Cora and Liam. "I don't trust them, so keep an eye on the Nomad. It's our exfil if things go south."
"If?" Cora asked, one brow raised.
"Let's have a little faith here."
"Will you be ok going in alone?" Liam asked, unclipping himself from the seat, getting ready to disembark. "It's Sloane after all."
"She needs me, or rather the Nexus and the outpost as much as we do. I'll be fine," Ryder reassured. "Besides, SAM's watching my back. Right?"
SAM remained silent.
"Damnit, SAM. Should I be worried?"
"No, Pathfinder," SAM came online. "I was merely scanning the caves for life signs. There are multiple."
"The Charlatan," Cora said, "they are already here."
The mere mention of the word twisted something in Ryder's chest. It was more than uncomfortable, it was painful. Jaw tight, she forged on. "Anyway, let's just get on with it."
As Ryder strode up to Sloane and her party, the leader of the Outcasts glared at her. "What took you so long?"
Her jaw twitched, but before she could retort, another vehicle roared into the scene. She unholstered her rifle, Cora and Liam followed her lead. Just as she was contemplating leaping out of the way of the vehicle, it jerked to a halt. Anger buzzed against her skin as she glared at Sloane. Sloane looked unbothered by the entire thing.
"I didn't know you asked her along for the ride," a voice spoke up as a weight thumped onto the hard Kadara ground.
Ryder turned back to look upon a face she didn't expect to see again. "Zia Cordier," she hissed, eyes narrowing. "Looks like you found a ride after all."
Cordier snorted, tossing her fabulously sleek red hair back. It bounced and sprang back into its original shape. How the fuck she has hair like that? Ryder bit back a jealous growl and settled for a hard glare instead. She would give her right arm to get a hold of hair products but she drew the line at Cordier. There was no way she'd get it from someone who actually tried to kill her. That was a bridge too far.
"Covering your ass, obviously," Cordier replied, hands resting on her hips as she cocked it one side. "The boss here don't trust you to be woman enough for the job."
It sounded just like Slonae to have a back up plan but Cordier? If this wasn't a slap in her face, Ryder didn't know what was. She laughed. "Joke's on her. We all know how our last run in went."
Cordier's lips curled so much it was going to fold back on itself. Ryder didn't bother hiding her amusement. "I seemed to remember having you dead to rights."
"That was—"
"Enough!" Sloane roared.
Cordier flinched. Ryder folded her arms and smirked.
"Move out," Sloane commanded and her men strode ahead of her into the cave.
Ryder glanced back at Cora and Liam. Both of them nodded. "Here we fucking go," she muttered under her breath.
Reyes' heart thumped hard against his chest. It was beating no faster than before, but he could feel it in a way that was utterly disconcerting. He took half a step back to make sure he was well hidden within the shadows. Already he could hear the scruffs of boots against grit. A shiver ran down his spine. Excitement, it was near electric. His work was finally coming to fruition.
Kelly's voice bounced against the cave walls. A satisfied smile spread his lips. He stopped himself from glancing back, his people were in place, he didn't need to check. It would only give the game away.
"I'm here!" Kelly shouted, her voice echoing. "Show yourself, coward!"
Reyes studied the people entering the cave. A pair of turians flanked Kelly, no doubt mercs she hired since she couldn't trust anyone within her organisation. A familiar red haired woman stepped up to Kelly's side. "Fucking Zia," he hissed under his breath.
That was one complication he did not expect, but it didn't no matter. She would die if she stood against him. It was as simple as that. One way or another Kelly wouldn't be walking out alive.
There was one final set of footsteps bringing up the rear. Reyes frowned. How many did she fucking bring?
"Charlatan! I'm fucking here!" Kelly shouted louder.
The last person was a flickering shadow approaching with the sunlight chasing against their back. His eyes were trained on the shadow, squinting trying to see a little more. Their armour was mostly white, starkly different from the colours favoured by those on Kadara.
With every step the person came into view, the more he realised he recognised something about them. The bright white armour, the confident gait that ate up the distance, the arms that swung in a deceptively relaxed manner.
"Shit, shit, shit," he hissed under his breath. "What the fuck is she doing here?"
Reyes didn't need to see her face to know who it was. Brown hair and blue eyes, a smile that never failed to lighten the darkness in his soul. But…
"The Charlatan is not showing," Zia groaned. "Come on, let's just go. This has got to be the easiest credits I've ever earned."
He gritted his teeth. This was beyond them, whatever nebulous thing they had, this was bigger than that. This was for Kadara and its people.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the light. His eyes were trained on Ryder and Ryder alone. She stiffened, but beyond that she showed no outward sign of shock.
That came from Zia. "You!" she screeched, reaching for her pistol. "What are you doing here?"
Kelly glared at Zia, probably regretting her decision. "I'm here for the Charlatan, not you Vidal."
Maybe it's the trick of the light, but it looked as if Ryder's eyes darkened. She did not look the slightest bit surprised, she chuckled, a noise cold and resigned. "They are one and the same."
You're the Charlatan? What the fuck?" Zia demanded. "You're the fucking Charlatan?"
"Surprise," he replied in a singsong voice, forcing himself to smile.
Ryder's gaze was intent on him. She sighed, a small huff of breath barely audible over the tension in the cave, but it was disappointment made physical. He had expected anger, he had expected rage, but all he got was this quiet defeat.
Reyes tightened his jaw and dragged his gaze from her. He directed it at Kelly. He couldn't afford to be careless now. They were so close to ending this once and for all. He laid his offer out, and he could practically see the gears in Kelly's head churning.
His plan had struck into the heart of Kelly's operation. There was nobody she could really trust now that Kaetus was out of the picture. That she stood here alone with Zia, Ryder and a bunch of mercs was proof enough. She wouldn't be able to refuse his deal. The trap was primed, if only she would take the fucking bait.
"I'll take those terms," Kelly declared, she jerked her arms out and the others scattered. Nobody wanted to be collateral damage. Ryder hesitated before retreating with reluctance, her face twisted into a pained grimace.
Reyes forced the grin on his face to widen. He must have looked almost maniacal as he stepped forward. There was no time for distractions. His hand hovered close to his pistol as he and Kelly circled each other. This was it. His operatives have their orders, they knew what to do and he trusted them.
Kelly, the woman who had promised so much, not only had she failed to deliver on any of it, she ended up a bigger tyrant than Tann himself. The familiar anger rose in his chest, pushing away the twisting ache of Ryder's presence. Yes, this was right. It didn't matter how many would fall to this mission of his, it didn't matter if it was Ryder herself. He was the Charlatan, this was bigger than anything as small as one man's heart.
Movement just over Kelly's shoulder caught his eye. Ryder was moving before he could speak. Fuck. He had forgotten about SAM. It's impossible to hide anything from that AI of hers.
Time warped. His heart slammed itself against his ribs. The boom of a rifle rang out. Ryder launched herself into Kelly, knocking her over. Reyes reached for his pistol, his fingers wrapped around its handle and it was coming free from its holster. Kelly roared in frustration and brought up her own faster than he could pull the trigger. They fired at the same time. His went wide, hers seared a bright line against his palm.
It was all over. His hopes and dreams, all the scheming and lying, it had been all for nought. He ran as all hell broke loose.
"You double crossed me!" Sloane yelled as she picked herself up.
Before Ryder could do anything, the leader of the Outcasts unloaded two rounds right into her chest. The breath was punched out of her lungs instantly. Thank fuck for her shields absorbing the burnt of the impact. Gasping, she struggled to her feet in time to see Sloane chasing after Reyes—, no Vidal.
She coughed as she shifted into cover. "Fucking Vidal, fucking Vidal," she cursed hoarsely.
"Pathfinder, do you require assistance?" SAM asked.
"Yes, tell Cora and Liam to make sure to sweep the area. The fucking Charlatan brought an army with him. Don't kill anyone if they can help it."
"Understood Pathfinder."
She struggled to her feet and started firing. Her rifle bucked against her hands, she had no idea who she was firing upon anymore. Neither Vidal nor Sloane were in the cave, Zia fucking Cordier ditched the place the moment the shooting started while Vidal's fucking sniper was keeping her pinned.
The ache in her chest intensified. Ryder put it down to the two rounds she took. It couldn't be the disappointment that nearly choked her when she saw Vidal stepped from the shadows. It wasn't that at all. But truly, she knew in her hearts of heart he was the Charlatan. The intel SAM got wasn't wrong.
With a growl, she lopped a grenade in the direction of the sniper. She waited for the yelp of terror and took the opportunity to run. The grenade would take them out or not, she didn't care. She had unfinished business with the Charlatan.
Ryder followed the trail of blood. Vidal was shot. She saw him jerked away in pain, she saw the flash of surprise, but what she was unprepared for was the crack forming inside her chest. It was somewhere inside, somewhere her hands couldn't reach, and it hurt terribly.
She ran, racing faster than she ever thought she could in full armour. "There is no way I'm letting it end like this."
The cave opened out at the other end to a ledge. Sloane had her pistol pointed at Vidal while he did the same with his. As she stumbled into the scene, both of them swung their pistols in her direction and she did the same.
A three-fucking-way standoff.
"I knew you would double cross me!" Sloane yelled, her grip on her pistol tightened, the muzzle swung between Vidal and herself as she pulled a second pistol out.
Ryder wasn't looking at Sloane despite having her rifle pointed in her direction. Her eyes were only for the Charlatan. The pistol she had aimed at him wavered, but his was steady. Ryder was surprised by how much her chest tightened, seeing the gun pointed at her. Their eyes met, the vague amusement that always danced in his was replaced by a grim and hard edged determination. Ryder couldn't say if Vidal had played her or did she do that herself.
He jerked his eyes away, looking over at Sloane. "Why don't we duel now?" he suggested, "for real this time."
"Nobody fucking duel anyone," Ryder growled. She had a job to do. What exactly it was she needed to accomplish she had no clue, but she'd prefer this to be resolved with as little bloodshed as possible.
Sloane glared at her, then at Vidal. "This ends today." She bared her teeth, her finger curled threateningly around both triggers.
"Hey, hey," Ryder shouted, shifting towards Vidal. She was running on instincts now, she had no ideas, no protocol to follow. "Look, I just don't want any bloodshed today."
"What about Kaetus? Huh? What about his blood?" Sloane's eyes hardened with a fury nothing but blood would quench. "You two were in on it all along! I've seen both of you together around Kadara. I have my sources of intel too," Sloane shouted, her pistols jerked in angry sweeps. "Both of you have planed this all along."
"Leave her out of it," Vidal shouted, trying to push ahead of Ryder only to stop when Sloane's second pistol tracked his motions. "This is between you and me."
"Look!" Ryder growled, her guts churning like she was about to throw up. The situation was spiralling out of her control. It's never in your control. Who the fuck are you kidding? "Let's just talk, all right?"
"Talk?" Sloane's nostrils flared, spittle gathering at the corners of her mouth. "You got to be fucking kidding me."
Ryder's mouth went dry. There was nothing she could offer Sloane to back down, nothing, but she had to try. She was the Pathfinder after all.
Deescalate. Get rid of the guns.
Who could trust anyone with a gun to their face? Taking a deep breath, she shuffled closer to Vidal, knowing, hoping, praying that he would at the very least hesitate before shooting her in the back. "Ok, ok. Look, I'm going to put my gun away. We can talk. This really doesn't have to end with blood."
Ryder could feel the incredulity literally radiating from Vidal. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw his gaze strayed towards her. "Fine, we can talk, only if you drop your pistol," he acquiesced.
"You first," Sloane countered, her eyes gleamed bright, her lips split into a grin.
Vidal stiffened, his chin lifted as a retort hovered on his lips.
"All right, all right. I'll go first," Ryder said as she took a deep breath.
"Ryder," Vidal's voice was a low warning growl, a tone she had ever heard him speak with before He really was the Charlatan, she should stop lying to herself. Disappointment didn't even began to cover how she felt about herself. "Don't."
She ignored him and stowed away her rifle, keeping her pistol handy in her other hand. She wasn't quite that foolhardy.
"Pathfinder, Sloane Kelly—"
SAM never got to complete his sentence. Sloane's grin spread wide. Ryder's eyes narrowed, her breath lodged painfully in her throat. The pistol in Sloane's hand bucked once. Ryder expected a boom, given their proximity. There was nothing but a sharp whine.
She was moving before she could put thought through her mind. Twisting, she lunged at Vidal— no, Reyes. His eyes widened as he realised what was happening. He tried to dodge but his body was moving so slowly he might as well be frozen. Their bodies collided as the slug sped through air towards them, whistling as it sliced through the short distance between them.
They fell and time righted itself once more.
Teeth gritted, Ryder's pistol flashed up and she fired. Sloane jerked once as blood bloomed from the middle of her forehead. Ryder's aim was unerring. Sloane's eyes rolled up into her head and she slumped to the ground without ceremony. Just like that the leader of the Outcasts was dead.
But… she scrambled up to her feet, realising she had been lying on top of Reyes. Is he hurt? Was he shot? Her mouth was dry, her chest squeezed so tight she thought her ribs might snap. Reaching down, she flipped Reyes onto his back. His eyes were closed. She knelt down next to him and ran her hands over his chest. No blood. Relief washed over her as she patted his face. "Hey, wake up. There's no need to pretend. Sloane's dead."
Reyes didn't move, he didn't even twitch. Her pulse began to race again. "SAM, is he dead?" she asked, despite seeing for herself his chest rose and fell on its own.
"Please scan Mr. Vidal," SAM replied.
Hastily, she complied. Orange light swept over Reyes' still body, tingeing his dusky skin a darker than usual colour. She waited breathlessly for SAM's report. Her fingers brushing his hair from his face, lingering where a bruise was forming on his brow.
"Mr. Vidal is healthy, he had been knocked out by the violent collision of his head against the ground. It is unlikely he would have a concussion, merely a headache."
Ryder let out the breath she was holding. Tears, she didn't know had welled up, pricked her eyes. She took a couple of shuddering breaths to steady herself.
"Ryder, come in, what's going on?" Cora's voice came through the comms. "We're cleared out the Collective."
She glanced at Sloane's fallen body and sighed. "I'm all wrapped up here. Just… I just need a while to clean things up."
"Are you all right?" Cora asked. "Where are you? I can come over. You might need back up."
"No, no," she interjected hastily. "I'll debrief everyone when I get back. I just need to finish something."
Cora didn't speak, the silence itself spoke on her behalf all on its own — disapproval. "We'll leave you the Nomad," she said in the end.
"Thanks Cora."
Ryder turned her attention back to Reyes— no, the Charlatan. What a fucking big mess. She sighed. Reaching out, she took Reyes' hand in hers, remembering how it felt when he held her hand and brushing a finger against his arm right where his omni-tool implant would be. "SAM, a little help." (See The Fart Bomb Incident for hand holding.)
It didn't take long before the omni-tool interface flared to life. She found what she was looking for quickly enough. It didn't take long before a connection was made. A familiar voice came through. "Is it done?"
Ryder recognised the voice. She sighed, yet again. "Keema."
Silence greeted her. That was expected, she had just breached the Collective's security after all. It didn't matter. She didn't need Keema to acknowledge, not really. "Keema, he needs a pick up. Preferably by someone with some kind of medical knowledge." More silence. A exhale was forced through her nostrils as she kneaded her temples. "ASAP."
The connection was remained live as she stared at it, wondering why Keema didn't just terminate it. Just as she was about to close the connection, Keema spoke. "ETA five minutes."
"Thanks, Keema."
The connection died.
Ryder let go of the Charlatan's hand, placing it gently on his chest. Five minutes. It wasn't all that long really, but it felt like an eternity to be watching over a man she thought she knew. Pretty soon she could hear the roar of a shuttle approaching. She pushed herself back to her feet, her boots scuffing against loose sand and grit. She noticed his breath hitched before returning to an even regularity. Snorting, she holstered her pistol, eyes tracking the shuttle as it came in for a landing.
"You know," she said out loud, "you could have told me."
He didn't reply, lying there motionless. Ryder sighed, she kicked at the ground, throwing sand and grit into his face. He sneezed and she sighed again. The shuttle rumbled as it touched down.
"Take care of yourself, Charlatan."
And she walked away. There was nothing left for her. She had done his dirty work for him. As unintentional as it was, she had done what she swore to stay out of. Now she was irrevocable tied to Kadara politics.
Reyes counted her steps. He listened as they receded back towards the cave. Her words echoed in his head.
"You could have told me."As hard it was to admit, Keema was right, Ryder was right. He could have, he should have but like so many other things in his life, they had all fell by the way side.
Propping himself up with his elbow, he watched as Ryder's white armour turned a corner and disappeared from view. His chest ached, pressing a hand against spot where Kelly's shot hit him. His shields took the burnt of it, the rest was negated by the jacket Ryder had given him. (See The Replacement.) She saved him twice over and he repaid her with lies.
The shuttle's door hissed open and men poured out securing the area. With a grim determination, he stood, brushing the sand from his clothes. Somehow, through a relationship that was hovering on the edge of something precious, he had won. Kelly lay on the ground, eyes open and glazed over, dead at his feet. He would claim this victory, nobody needed to know the truth. This death was on his hands.
"Let's go," he said as he entered the shuttle.
As it took off into the skies again, he lingered at the window, his eyes trained on the Nomad pulling out of the Draullir caves. Pain flared in his chest as it tightened.
"Sit," Lexi instructed, gesturing at one of the medical beds.
Ryder sighed as she eased herself onto the bed, dropping the ice pack she had pressed against her chest. Her armour had been striped off, her undersuit unzipped and the top half gathered around her waist. The cool medbay air prickled against her skin as her sweat slowly dried. Her sports bra was too tight and it made breathing that much harder.
"This has to come off," Lexi said. "Do you think you can remove it yourself?" She lifted a hand holding a pair of medical scissors. "Or do you need help?"
Ryder looked at the bruise forming just under her left breast. There was no saying she's fine because she's not. Grimacing, she curled her fingers under the bra and pulled. Her chest protested at the mere hint of the motion. Lexi watched, more than happy to let her reach her own conclusions.
She sighed. "Help?"
Lexi was gentle. One half of the scissors' blade slipped between the fabric and her skin. It was cold and she shivered. Snip, snip, snip, the scissor went.
"I don't know how to put this into the report," Ryder said. "I guess I can say failure to remove garment, garment had to be destroyed."
Lexi chuckled. "That will work, but you can try putting it under destroyed due to combat."
"My bra?"
It came free and she breathed a little easier. Lexi tossed it into the recycler. She resisted the urge to cover herself up. It's not like Lexi hadn't seen her naked in various forms while treating her wounds.
"Yeah why not?" Lexi shrugged. "Lie back. Let's get a proper scan. I want to make sure nothing is broken before I palpate the area."
"Yes, that would be preferable."
The scanner zipped over her body from head to toe twice. The readout popped up on the screen next to her. She tried to sit up only to be pushed back onto the bed by Lexi's hand against her shoulder.
"It doesn't look broken, just bruised," Lexi declared.
"Thank fuck I'm not dying."
"Do you feel like you're dying?" Lexi's blue eyes met hers for a moment before darting back to examine the bruise. Her hands brushed gently against the site, careful not to put too much pressure against it.
Ryder closed her eyes and grunted against the discomfort. She did felt like she was dying. The disappointment she kept under lock and key was welling up in her chest again. The fucking coward would rather pretend to be unconscious than talk to her, but it felt wrong to leave the way things were. If only he had told her. But she knew, she chose not to act. She had been stupid about it. Possibilities flooded her mind, scenarios where things had gone just a little differently, where she could have talked them down.
She sighed.
"You know I've heard about this chronic sighing," Lexi noted, picking up a tube of medi-gel and applying it liberally over her bruise.
Instantly the analgesic effects took hold and she sighed, this time with relief. "Who has been tattling?"
"Nobody, I have observational powers of my own," Lexi pointed out, helping her to sit up.
She braced her hands against the edge of the bed and let her head hung low. It felt like she hadn't slept in ages. All her worries and fears had come to pass and she did nothing about it.
"Here," Lexi handed her a zip-up jacket.
As Ryder threaded her arms through the sleeves, Lexi turned away to rummage through her cabinets. She returned with two white tablets and a glass of water. Ryder was having trouble putting the tab into the zipper to zip the jacket up. She gave up with a growl and took the tablets from Lexi. With a quick pop into her mouth, she chased them down with water.
Lexi cocked her head, a question in her eyes as she looked at the undone jacket pointedly.
"Yes please," Ryder said. It took Lexi mere seconds to do it up, she could only cursed her clumsy fingers betraying her.
"There, it isn't so hard to ask for help right?"
"No mother, it's not," Ryder admitted.
It was Lexi's turn to sigh.
"Oh shit, this sighing condition is catching," Ryder pointed out, chuckling.
"Get out of here, Pathfinder. You're on medical leave until I clear you," Lexi rolled her eyes.
She picked up the ice pack and pressed it gingerly against her chest. "Yes mother." She escaped feeling Lexi's eyes on her back.
Ryder took herself back to her quarters. She was tired and stinky, but she could only fix one of them, the thought of showering was too much for her right now. Gingerly, she eased herself onto the bed, she shifted one of her pillows to her side so that the ice pack could be propped up without her needing to hold onto it. Ryder placed her forearm over her eyes and sighed as she tried to sleep.
Reyes glanced at his terminal. Keema was calling him from her throne room. She fit the place well. Regal and poised, like a queen. Maybe Kadara would finally see some peace and quiet.
"You know what to do," he said.
Keema nodded. "We will talk next week. Remember, you have to talk to her. We need the outpost as much as the Nexus does."
Before he could retort, the connection died and the screen turned black. Keema was learning.
Reyes sighed, leaning back against the sofa, his bandaged hand and head throbbing. It was barely 48 hours since it all went down. Utter chaos was how he'd described it. The Port had turned into a shooting gallery where the Outcasts and Collective vied for control, but with Kelly dead, Kaetus captured, the Outcasts had no chance.
Today was the first day that didn't start and ended with gunfire ringing in his ears. Keema needed time to consolidate things on her end, but the violence was done. In the quiet, his thoughts strayed back towards Ryder.
You could have told me.How it echoed against his chest. He grunted. An impressive bruise had bloomed on his chest where the bullet had hit him. A small price to pay for control over Kadara.
His omni-tool buzzed. He frowned as he tapped on it. A message from an unknown sender. His eyes narrowed. Not suspicious at all. Running the message through his usual software revealed nothing malicious about it. Curiosity got the better of him. Gingerly, he tapped on it and waited.
First, it was an invoice for… he squinted and pulled his omni-tool closer to his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was reading it right. A bra? "Why the fuck am I being billed for one sports bra?" he cried out. "And why the fuck is it so expensive?"
Next was a tally. "Of the number of times Ryder sighed since…" he checked the date. "Two days ago." Reyes groaned. It was rapidly becoming clear who it was from. "Why the fuck SAM sent me this?" The number was an inordinately high one. It came with a comparison chart as well. "Is this my fault?"
Clearly, SAM thought so otherwise he wouldn't be sending this to him. Reyes sighed and dismissed the message, squeezing his eyes shut. It all went to hell. Without Ryder's unwitting help, he would have probably died. My investment of time had paid off. His lips curled at the ugliness of his thoughts.
"I need a drink," he muttered before forcing himself to his feet.
His omni-tool buzzed again. It was the same unknown sender, but this time it only contain one message. "Please pay up."
Reyes sighed.