Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Twelve:
"Tell us everything you know about the Insurrection again."
Vanessa Kimball's clear voice cut through the datadpad-strewn meeting room without preamble, barely waiting the second that it took for David Washington and Carolina to enter the space both she and Donald Doyle currently occupied.
Not that Wash could necessarily blame the dark-skinned woman. He knew how tight of a spot Chorus was in due to the encroaching threat brought about by the power outages. It only made sense that the region's leaders were feeling immensely pressured by now. Not that others, himself included, weren't feeling the same.
He glanced quickly over at Carolina, silently nodding his blond head at the quiet inquiry in her green eyes. If the boss wanted to take the reins this time, Wash would be more than happy to let her. After all, he had answered the same question the last time it had been asked following the other night's blackout and subsequent attack.
"The Insurrection was a military and mercenary group we had several encounters with during the war." Carolina explained without hesitation.
Doyle glanced down at the datapad that held the previously filed report before trailing off, "And by we, you mean…?"
"Freelancer." There was a slightly unavoidable twitch in Carolina's voice when she said the organization's name out loud, but the redhead somehow managed to avoid grimacing.
It was rather impressive of her given that the memories that particular name dredged up in the former Freelancer's mind were no doubt the same horrible ones that Wash recalled. The genetically engineered soldier clenched his hands together tightly before taking in a deep breath of air, intently bringing his focus back to the present day.
"The Insurrection always seemed to be situated in a region of the opposing color as us, so we never had much of a chance for chit chat." The redhead continued, "However, I can tell you that they were well-armed, skilled, and highly efficient in combat."
Yes, with the amount of run-ins that Freelancer had with the Insurrection, it was no wonder that some remnants of the organization would perhaps want revenge on them specifically. But, targeting Chorus as a whole? There was more to that than petty revenge. There had to be.
"We'd assumed what was left of the group had disbanded after the war since we never heard from them following…well, everything." Carolina informed the two leaders, "But, clearly, that wasn't the case."
"Most likely they're here at Chorus for our resources." Kimball muttered pensively.
Carolina nodded, "That seems the most likely reason, yes."
"Revenge on a couple of Freelancers will just be a bonus." Washington remarked, more to himself than to the others.
Inwardly, the blond was upset at the thought that others living in Chorus such as the rookies and the Reds and Blues, particularly Tucker and Junior, were getting caught up in a personal grudge on top of a resource conflict. Life was unfair. That was something Wash knew from firsthand experience. But, this seemed particularly so after everything else their group had already been through.
"No matter how much we review it, none of this information changes the fact that Chorus is in danger." Doyle's voice was surprisingly firm even as he voiced all of their concerns out loud.
"So, what should we do then?" Kimball countered, her own voice rising in challenge, "Take up the mercenaries' offer of assistance?"
The older blond-haired man sat silent at his co-leader's pointed remark. Kimball sighed before looking over towards Wash and Carolina again, asking: "Now what do you both know about Malcolm Hargrove?"
Carolina raised a red eyebrow at the question incredulously, "That's who the mercenaries' assistance is?"
The former Freelancer had good reason to be surprised.
"During the course of the war, Malcolm Hargrove was a well-known diplomat who made countless inquiries on behalf of various regions for more peaceful solutions to their problems." Wash spoke up, "That's even continued to be the case in its aftermath. He also has several well-to-do-businesses."
Both Hargrove and the Director had seemed at odds over the goings-on at Project Freelancer, but that seemed more than understandable given what had been really going on there. Truth be told, Wash had always thought the rivalry a strange one given the man's known history and somewhat secretive business practices.
"That's all of the data that we have found on him as well." Kimball tapped on a datapad before her, brown eyes serious as she contemplated its contents.
"Are you thinking of taking up their offer then?" Carolina asked, voice surprisingly calm.
Before Kimball or Doyle could speak up, the lights around them in the room flickered momentarily. Wash nearly jumped up, his mind flashing to Junior and Tucker, as well as the two cyborgs and their three Virtual Intelligence. The gray-eyed man wasn't blind to the momentary alarm that flickered across the normally stoic Carolina's facial features as well.
Kimball smiled wistfully as though what had just happened was something of a sign, glancing over at Doyle for a second. "We may not have much of a choice in the matter." She finally stated at length, frowning.
Washington and Carolina both frowned as well, but nodded their heads slightly in begrudging understanding all the same. It seemed that Chorus may have run out of other options.
"Hey, nerd."
Richard "Dick" Simmons didn't even have to look up to know who had come in to the kitchen area just then as they headed straight for the coffee pot as if it were a lifeline. The haggard voice of Leonard Church, as well as the insulting way he had addressed him, not at all like the oddly affectionate tinge that same insult took when uttered by Dexter Grif of all people, was enough to clue him in.
The redhead rolled his eyes, "Can't you come up with anything more original, Church?"
A shrug and an extended middle finger towards his general direction were Church's only responses, "Eh, not when I haven't had my fifth cup of coffee yet. Lay the fuck off."
A non-caffeinated Church was an even grumpier than usual Church. So, Simmons ignored the griping, choosing to focus on his own mug of coffee and inner-musings instead.
Simmons had been forced to go on to the warehouse this morning without Grif, who he imagined was currently stuffing his face with piles of buffet brunch food. Going to work without the tan-skinned man had been the only way to avoid both of them getting into trouble for being late. Seriously, the fat-ass really needed to be grateful for the fact that Simmons was still nice enough to cover for him!
However, the cyborg was actually glad that Grif had gotten distracted by an all you can eat buffet on their way to work today for once, if only because…
"So," Church cut into his troubling thoughts as though he had been reading his mind, "Another blackout happened."
Simmons blinked, looking up at the grimace plastered on Church's goateed face. It was more pain-filled than the exasperated one the dark-haired man usually sported when dealing with, say, Caboose or something equally trying. The look reminded Simmons of the lingering discomfort he was still feeling in all of his limbs.
The redhead nodded, "How are you feeling?" he asked the other quietly, already fearing the answer.
"Like shit." Church's response was immediate and succinct, "Now my brain always feels like it's on fire, even after the damn power gets fixed."
That was probably due to his cybernetics being so connected to his nervous system. Simmons felt a twinge of sympathy for Church given that. It was bad enough with what he was going through, but a migraine every time the power so much as flickered? That would suck. A lot.
"I think we should inform Sarge and Doctor Grey the next time they're not too busy." It was Church who spoke up just then, which was especially surprising given his usual reluctance to go to the doctors for anything, "Maybe even compare notes with Sheila and the others first to have a better understanding of what the fuck is actually going on."
Simmons nodded, not sure if he needed to actually say anything. It seemed like a pretty valid idea given that the power outages, while not occurring for lengthy sets of time, were still happening with more frequency than ever.
"Only," Church continued, remembering something, "Let's not say anything to the others just yet, especially Caboose."
That made sense given how worry-stricken the blond already was by everything. Simmons suspected that even Freckles was trying to act as if nothing was wrong for his friend's sake too.
"Or Carolina." Simmons mentioned, knowing how overprotective of her sibling the former Freelancer could be.
"Or the fat-ass." Church nodded helpfully, "Though the worry might help him sweat off some needed pounds."
"I doubt it." Simmons sighed, "He's something of a stress eater." And how! The cyborg suspected that poor buffet didn't stand a chance.
"It's too bad that big blackout canceled your date." Church stated nonchalantly, as if trying to change the subject all of a sudden.
Simmons' pale freckled face turned as red as his hair at the mention of his and Grif's last night out together, "Th—that was…!"
"So," Church smirked jokingly, looking both amused and curious all at once, "Tell me you at least got to second base."
Church must have been feeling slightly better, because the asshole fucking laughed at both the feeble sputtering that came from the other cyborg's mouth and at the extremely red shade Simmons' whole body turned just then.
Later that day, the warehouse was a buzz of activity. Not only had pretty much all of the Reds and Blues came there for work, or just to simply hang out while only a select few of their friends did most of the actual work, but several of the lieutenants had also come to do the same.
The rookies' involvement had been at Washington's suggestion since both he and Agent Carolina were still at a meeting with Generals Kimball and Doyle. The former Freelancer had referred to it as a voluntary team-building exercise of sorts, which was why Matthews was so surprised to see Antoine Bitters standing in the warehouse about thirty minutes after the others had arrived.
The lieutenant in orange-trimmed armor looked completely lost as Matthews' sisters unhelpfully grinned at the situation and even gave him a thumbs up sign to "Go for it!" much to his embarrassment.
Thankfully, Andersmith and Kaikaina were too busy giving Palomo a quick tour of a spot he hadn't checked out on one of his previous visits to notice, and Bitters was too busy looking around in general to see the gesture either. But, Matthews' face was still a brilliant shade of crimson by the time he walked over to the other man.
"Wh—what are you doing here?" The auburn-haired rookie asked, hating how his voice trembled slightly when he did so.
Bitters looked at him as though he were a moron, "Team-building exercise. Remember?"
"O—oh! Right. I just thought that…" Matthews decided it was best to trail off before he finished that sentence.
"That I'd bail because it wasn't mandatory and would be a complete waste of time?" Bitters finished for him, looking more amused than annoyed.
Matthews said nothing in response, bowing his head slightly in shame at how accurate Bitters' assessment had been.
"You weren't wrong," Bitters stated, surprisingly reassuringly, "But I figured I would come by and give it a shot."
For some reason, the thought of the dark-skinned man wanting to actually help had Matthews smiling quite a bit. Bitters stared at him for a few moments before he coughed awkwardly and turned his surprisingly flushed face away.
"Right." He began after a few seconds, "So what should I…?"
"Oh!" Matthews blinked at the unfinished question, remembering that they were there to assist with work. He glanced quickly around the large warehouse, noticing several boxes that were ready for movement into the storage areas, "We should probably get started moving these."
The cargo boxes were heavily loaded, but the two of them would probably have no problem moving them.
"Okay." Bitters told Matthews, "Why not?"
Before, back when Bitters had been working for his mercenary group, he would have been expected to do this kind of work on his own. It would have taken him a hell of a lot longer by himself. However, moving the boxes now really wasn't all that difficult, especially with Matthews helping him.
In fact, they were down to their final crate in rather good time. Maybe there was something to this teamwork stuff after all. As they started moving the final crate, Bitters heard voices drifting their way from close by.
It was a group of the Reds and Blues: Lopez, Doc, Tucker, Simmons, and Grif. The older soldiers and robot were standing around a sorting table, their work seemingly forgotten and only partially done.
"I'm telling you that's what Wash told me!" Tucker was exclaiming in a loud sort of whisper.
"So," Doc sounded genuinely intrigued by whatever it was they were talking about, "This news from Washington is straight out of Armonia?"
"Of course!" The dark-skinned soldier grinned, "Naturally he told yours truly first."
"Naturally." Grif rolled his eyes from where he was standing so close to Simmons that the two were practically touching shoulders, "It's not like you aren't trying to contact him every five seconds or anything normally."
"Oh, like you're one to talk, fat-ass!" Tucker glanced pointedly at him and Simmons, causing the two men to blush awkwardly and look away.
"Todo el mundo sólo tiene que conseguir una habitación ya. Lejos de mí." {"Everyone just needs to get a room already. Away from me."}
"But, getting outside aid from the mercenaries?" Simmons looked understandably troubled by the news, "That must mean things are even worse than we thought, right?"
There was an uncomfortable silence that filled their space then. Grif looked as though he were about to reach out and grip Simmons' shoulder consolingly, but the tan-skinned man seemed to be holding back from following through with the motion because they were in public.
"Well, think of it as even more help is on the way! That's a good thing!" Doc suggested cheerily into the sudden quiet.
"Doc's right." Tucker picked up on that thread of thought very quickly, "Let's just focus on the positives."
Simmons nodded, but the redhead didn't look entirely convinced. Grif was watching the cyborg carefully with a frown on his face, hooded concern evident in his brown eyes.
"Voy a tener que decirle a Sheila más tarde. Lo que ayuda a este problema de recorte hacia arriba más es bueno en mi libro." {"I will have to tell Sheila later. Whatever helps this issue from cropping up more is good in my book."}
Doc nodded as his glasses bounced on the bridge of his nose, "That's the spirit, guys!"
Tucker grinned, "Exactly!" he stated emphatically, before looking around the warehouse, "Now where did Donut and Caboose run off to with Junior?"
Then rookies were moving away and out of ear shot from the group. Matthews was working fast, but it seemed as if the boxes were maybe just a bit too heavy for him.
Both lieutenants seemed to be struggling as Bitters was left to ponder over what he had just heard. He wouldn't have thought in a million years that a mercenary company would willingly share their contact information with outsiders. Maybe his paranoia had gotten the best of him, after all. If the mercenary group's former client could help Chorus that was great. …Right?
They brought the box to the storage room as he was mulling over his thoughts, and Bitters absentmindedly helped Matthews place the box of already sorted and registered items on the lower shelf. He was glad they didn't have to deal with the top shelves given how heavy the crates were, and how even now the contents up there seemed wobbly.
"Look out!"
Bitters had just enough time to register that one of the top crates was falling and to grab hold of Matthews. The genetically engineered soldier pushed them both out of the way before there was a loud crash right where they had been standing seconds ago. His arms were wrapped tightly around the other young man, with Matthews' hands pushed tightly against his chest.
It was an odd sort-of embrace and, had either of them been thinking clearer, they would have probably pulled away from one another right then and there. Bitters certainly wouldn't have acted on the opposite instinct to tighten his hold a bit if he had been thinking more, but both rookies were reluctant to pull away just then with the crash still echoing in their ears.
"You okay?" He finally managed to get out.
Matthews swallowed and nodded, one hand clenching and unclenching subconsciously on the fabric of Bitters' shirt. They stayed like that for probably a second more than was necessary until the door opened and Sheila came rushing inside.
"I heard the crash." She asked, the robot both looking and sounding rather concerned, "You're not hurt, are you?"
The two lieutenants had pulled away from one another the moment the door opened, both men standing a few centimeters apart awkwardly.
"Ah, no!" Matthews assured her, "We're…ah, all right."
Sheila glanced at the shelves and then at the spilled crate, "I knew that top shelf wasn't the most stable." She said quietly, bowing her helmeted head, "I was distracted. My apologies. I'll clean this up."
With that, Sheila moved past them with a troubled, determined gait. It was fairly obvious that the Virtual Intelligence had a lot on her mind, even to someone like Bitters with notably horrendous people skills.
After their offers to help were politely refused, the two rookies left with the feeling of Matthews wrapped in his arms still lingering oddly pleasantly on Bitters' skin.
"That was the third such power outage this afternoon?" Kimball asked tiredly, looking at a datapad that only confirmed her suspicions.
"Yes," Doyle nodded unnecessarily in response, "They are lasting only seconds, but their frequency is increasing."
The dark-skinned woman sighed, glancing over to see Doyle doing much the same and noting the tired slump in his usually infuriatingly perfect posture.
She knew that this was news that neither one of them wanted to hear. The two Chorus leaders were at least on the same page in that regard.
"So, what do we do now?" Doyle asked her, but the resignation in his voice made it obvious that he already knew what the genetically engineered soldier's answer would be.
Kimball sighed again, rubbing her forehead in stressed frustration, "What else can we do at this point?" She asked, a determined glint in her dark eyes, "Contact Felix and Locus. We're going to have to accept their offer."
Author's Notes: …That might not be the best idea out there, guys. XD This chapter was a bit on the short side, but things will definitely be picking up in the next part with Hargrove's introduction into the plot and even a surprising reveal!
Thank you as always for taking the time to read this. I hope it was an enjoyable read even if this chapter was short and more of a set-up for the next one! :)