02 Immortals (Frye, Bozé): Old soldiers never die. Sightless cont.

All the good things belong to Monolithsoft.

Frye lurched out of the administrative building at not quite a run. He didn't want Pappy Vandham grabbing him and setting him down for a talk about balance and patience and maybe scheduling a chat with the Mediators. Recently the boss man was all about getting counseling, and Frye was in agreement on that point, in theory. In practice, what Frye wanted was to go blow up a certain monstrous fish until it was nothing but cat food.

He stopped at the bottom of the steps, sucked in a long breath, and rubbed his eyes against the sunlight. He could always go back to the Repenta Diner and down a bottle or two. Take the edge off, maybe think of something besides revenge on a fish. But he wasn't going to do that, he told himself, he wasn't like that, not this week anyway. He was going to be focused and level and...

A slap on his back almost sent him nose first into the pavement. "KAAAAATSU!"

"Baldy, not in the mood today," said Frye with uncharacteristic sourness.

The Harrier, bald as his nickname and built as broadly as Frye, only laughed. "I heard you were looking for help on a fishing trip."

"How'd you know already? I just left the commander's office." When Bozé just smirked at him, Frye added, "He said no."

"And?" Bozé lifted a brow. The mandala tattooed on his forehead danced.

"And I guess I'm taking vacation days. You in?"

"That I am."

"Great. We need two more. What about that student of yours, what was it, Reggie or Ronnie or...?"

Bozé's hearty cheer vanished. "Reggie is recovering from a recent mission."

"Ah." Frye waited. "He gonna be okay?"

"Yes!" Bozé said firmly, although his face was grim. "What about the fighters who were with you when you were attacked by the unknown indigen?"

Frye frowned almost as fiercely as his friend. "They're both too messed up to help. The two that made it back. The third..." He shook his head and spat to one side. "I'm getting sick of leaving parts of my team behind. I keep getting older and they keep ... not."

Bozé nodded agreement. "A young recruit called me The Immortal. It didn't feel like a compliment."

a/n: Strictly speaking, the third teammate was dead before the fish attacked Frye. This will continue.

Next up: Writer. Frye as a writer. Could be worse. Could be Yelv.