15 - Conflicting Priorities

- Core Principles

The glass shatters and so does part of the wooden barricade as a chair is thrown through. The window is completely ruined and a good portion of the barricade as well. The flung projectile falls onto the street below. Inside the apartment, hell has definitely broken out. It started out as a minor thing but gradually descended into a brawl. That no gunshots have been heard is quite miraculous. Then there is a loud, feminine scream and then silence.

Over the radio, the hybrid can then hear panting before a door is closed and locked.

"Not exactly sure what happened inside there, but I assume nothing good." the Aparoid hears in the back of its head.

It's Martin, once again making himself audible with that awful doubting tone in his quivering voice. Just like he was moaning about those bombs placed around the square. How were those going to help in any way to getting his partner back? Stupid emotions that needed some logic to suppress them. Those inside would never let them in but to lure them out, they must present them with an unwinnable scenario if they chose to stay. They do not know whether or not those bombs will explode. But they will not take that risk because they want to live. Hence why it worked. What happened inside is of no concern. A deal has been made.

After a few minutes, the hybrid can see Trevor exit the building. With the core held underneath his right arm and his left arm behind his back for some reason. He does not look very well; his face is very red on the right side and it looks like he has a limp. He does not have his radio with him nor his sniper rifle. Just the revolver in its holster.

Trevor spots it, still with its tentacles and hand on the charred remains on the somehow still working jammer. The boils have not recovered however, meaning that the jammer is very low on power and likely will cease to work completely very soon. But he plans to be out of here by that time.

"I got your core here." Trevor calls out to the hybrid.

"Was not easy. Especially when your former partner disagreed to such an extent she'd fight me for it."

"But you won. And it does not please you?" the hybrid questions interested.

"I cared for her. I wanted her to come along with me. Like you said. But in the end… I picked myself over her. Might have been the best choice." he sighs melancholy.

"She is weak-minded. But you… you seem to know when you cannot go on. What is wrong with your appendage?"

"Hm? Oh that. She cuts me pretty badly. Couldn't find any bandage or patches that would stick so I grabbed some clean rags and I'm now holding them between the cut and my back. Weird? Yes. But if you want me to drop this giant egg, I can."

The hybrid gestures that such an action is not necessary. It would rather have its core intact. But it remains curious about Trevor's partner. How passionately she must have resisted against a very logical choice. They would both get to keep their lives, something their primitive lizard brain would prioritize over everything else. But this large-eared creature known as a bunny would rather fight someone close to her for what is important to the Aparoid cause?

Martin makes a remark that he would feel the same if he had to do something similar to his partner. How awful that would feel. That is valuable information for the Aparoids. A potential for later encounters with Cornerians? It requires further investigation.

"This partner of yours… Did you kill her?" it questions.

"No. I couldn't. I managed to knock her out. Tied her hands too so she wouldn't disturb us if she came to."

"Fair. You still care about her. For what use are emotions if you won't at least care for the woman you love?"

That hits Trevor quite hard in the heart. Who knew that an Aparoid hybrid could dish out such emotional zingers? But he has to play along, remain tough. Do not show weakness.

"Love… yeah. She was my Patches, you know?"

Behind his back, he clenches his open palm into a pained fist as he tries to keep his arm in position. The thoughts of him doing those things to her. Each jamming another needle into his heart.

"I couldn't do it myself. Not by my hand. Never would I. Not even if she stood in my way a thousand times more."

"Interesting. Now, the core. If you please."

"Not yet. We agreed on set terms. I couldn't get a consensus going with my partner so it will be on my terms. First, you step away from that jammer and come to collect the core. I want no weird Aparoid tricks with you using any sorts of soundwaves or frequencies to mess with me. Secondly, I want time to grab my radio and the broken remains of my sniper. Thirdly, you disable those bombs before I hand you this core. Fourthly, if you try anything, there is a good chance that you'll die. You may be big and tall but you only have one boil left. One shot would be enough."

At first, these demands seem reasonable to the hybrid. But after some thought and having Martin pour over some things too, there are some glaring points of concern. They agree with the first and fourth points but not necessarily with the second and third.

"Why do you not have your radio and weapon with you right now?" it asks.

Behind Trevor's back, from his fist unfolds only his middle finger. But perhaps this Aparoid is still stupid enough to not realize that wearing a heavy brick radio on both shoulders with one arm pretty much disabled is not very nice when you are holding a massive egg underneath the other arm.

Without mentioning the middle finger for obvious reasons, he tells this to the hybrid. As for the rifle, what does it think he used to knock his partner out with?

"Stock broke. She had a harder head than expected. Recoil spring is hanging out of it. I can shoot maybe once more before the whole mechanism will eject itself into my shoulder." he chuckles on the wrong side of his mouth.

"But it was my workhorse weapon. Holds some good memories."

"Sentimentality… is weakness!" it states first somewhat understanding and then firmly discarding it.

"Depends on the situation. It could be a weakness but I think I've shown that I can transcend that by beating my partner out of commission with it, don't you think?"

"Fair. I accept. The bombs however… We see no reason why."

Trevor now relaxes his hand to relieve some tension to his hurting nerves and muscles.

"Put yourself in my shoes. What have you learned from people like me? How do we view you?"

"As a threat."

"Exactly. A threat to be feared. A threat that needs to be eliminated or at least made less threatening."

"Fear… we know how it feels."

"You should. You were once like me. Right, Martin?"

The hybrid shudders and freezes upon mentioning that name.

" And how would this former person feel when surrounded by bombs? Come on, dig deep. Use his memories."

"...Fearful." it answers, now comprehending the concept more while Martin inside of its head starts groaning in pain from having to relive those awful images.

"There you go. To minimize the threat that you pose, a person like me needs guarantees. Security: no tricks with that jammer. Confidence: I require my personal belongings to feel that. Comfort: no outside or surrounding threats, in other words those bombs. And finally, trust: Having a way out. Whether that means trusting you and being allowed to leave with my life or trusting in myself enough to kill you before you kill me."

The hybrid thinks about it for a moment and then utters low, heavily distorted chuckle. It lets go of the jammer with both its tentacles and its hand and then takes a few steps forward. With each, the ground shakes a little. Trevor would be lying if that did not unnerve him so his facial expression tells the truth. Then his arm starts hurting again, probably from the adrenaline scourging through his veins. In response, he puts his fingers together before slowly clenching them into a fist again.

At a reasonable distance, the hybrid stops and then raises its hand in the air. Like some kind of wizard, it waves it around in the air. But it has actual effect, as five distinct audio cues sound around the square, signaling the bombs' deactivation. They were standard issue remote control Cornerian Army explosives. Small but highly effective. They even have a secondary timed trigger on some of them, but only on the newer models.

"Comfort… achieved?" the hybrid questions.

Trevor tries to detect some kind of humorous undertone but he cannot confirm that. Instead, he gives up on it and walks over to the hybrid. Its hand has already extended to accept the core.

"Don't do it!" a hauntingly familiar voice shouts from the broken window.

Both Trevor and the hybrid look in the direction where it came from and both see that it came from Patches. Awake and untied. There is a strange satisfaction in seeing this person up and about coming from Martin.

"How is this possible!?" the hybrid bellows.

Trevor groans, now really regretting not paying attention in the crash course of tying a knot given to him by the military during basic training. How he passed that part, is still a question that requires an answer. He squats down, still with his back mostly towards the building and puts the core down on the ground.

"Patch, please. Not now. We had this discussion already." Trevor sighs while turning his head to her.

He does not need to raise his voice given the stillness of everything around.

"Discussion!?" she screams right back.

"You call beating me over the head with your sniper a discussion!?"

"Says the witch who threw a chair at me hard enough to break through the barricade!" Trevor counters just as aggressively.

"Not to mention you cutting my arm open."

"Good! I hope it hurts!"

"Pretty coherent for someone I beat into a concussion."

"I'm not even going to respond to that."

So she turns to the hybrid instead.

"Martin! I know you can hear me! Just like you responded to me after I took that core. You can be free. You can fight your way out!" she encourages the hybrid, as it enters into the same petrified state as when Trevor said it.

But this time, it is not so easy to break out of. Patches continues to encourage him to break free. She has seen the potential now and is not going to stop. And the hybrid is clearly having a bad time with it. Convulsions appear all over its body, like something is trying desperately to escape from it.

"Martin, stop this! You are ruining this!" the Aparoid says internally.

But poor Martin cannot help it according to himself. He is not comfortable in this place. And hearing his name spoken gives him strength.

Seeing this, Trevor sees his chance of escaping intact and proper disappear like snow before the sun. He turns his whole body now towards her and walks away from the core.

"Patch! Cut it out will you? You are ruining this!"

"Ruining what? Your egotistical, cowardly escape attempt? Good!" she snorts.

Trevor feels his eyelids twitch.

"One last chance Patch; stop your pestering or else I will finish what I started!"

The way he said it, made it seem like she was nothing but a disobedient pet that needs to be sent back into its cage. As punishment for being a bad girl.

"I will not be talked down to!" she shouts before she throws a glass at him from the window. It is thrown short however, shattering onto the floor below.

But at least some glass shards hit his boots. The intention is clear. Trevor's fingers now hover over his holster while he glares right at his former partner. The glare is returned before she breaks it off and resumes her attempts at getting Martin to fight out of his Aparoid confinement.

This is too much for Trevor. He pulls out the revolver and aims it right at her. Pulling the trigger right away. She ducks for cover upon seeing this and the projectile impacts just below the window-still.

"And stay down!" he shouts after.

But she does not listen to her "owner". He is not the boss of her in any capacity. Not as a Corporal, not as the leader of Nova 7 or even as Mr Bones. He cannot be trusted in any capacity. So she pokes right back out with his sniper rifle now pointed right at him. Seeing that, makes him shake his aim a little.

"What are you planning to do with that? That's not going to work very well." Trevor ridicules, if a little uncomfortable.

"Didn't you say you could get one shot of it before it would "eject into your shoulder"? I'll take that gamble!"

"Bah! As if you'd even know how to aim with a sniper rifle. You never held anything bigger than a pistol because otherwise the recoil would blow your tiny ass away." he continues to ridicule.

Patches then audibly sniffles as the safety is switched off.

"I'll take it anyway. I-I've loved you… Trevor."

Another shot straight through the heart. Another piece chipped away. So emotionally painful it is, that he almost goes through the leg he was limping on. Its support is failing to keep him upright properly, so now he has to take a knee.

"Then don't do this! For the sake of what we had. I will not miss a second time!" he cries out, now in desperation instead of anger.

His hold on the grip of his revolver is shaky at best now that emotions take hold of him. On her side, it is not that much different. Her vision is muddled by the moisture welling up and her doubting finger is only lightly pressing against the trigger.

"Had… Trevor. We had."

She takes a deep breath, dries her eyes and then resumes calling out to Martin. Trevor only has to mildly glance over to see that it has effect. Everyone he sacrificed so much for, is falling apart at the seams. He calls out to Patches one last time as the hammer is cocked. But she ignores him.

He has no choice anymore. He has to steady his aim and with a lot of strain, he manages to lift his left arm into position. It hurts so much to do this. But it is necessary.

- Blow Me Away

He raises his left arm into the air. With his hand, he only extends the index and little fingers while holding the middle and ring fingers down with the thumb. The metal horns. The signal is giving and a devious grin is formed. No blood is dropping from the arm and there is no pain at all.

Then a small but loud explosion rocks the square as a fountain of ashen jammer parts is sprayed into the air. The tower is now cut in half and loses whatever power it still had left. The hybrid, now fully back in control, can only look on in a building rage as the gravity of the situation comes to it.

No sooner than later it incurs another painful blow from another unexpected corner. A loud gunshot followed very soon by the sound of a popping balloon heralds the destruction of its last boil. Trevor's smoking barrel is the harbinger. That smug grin on his face… etched into the hybrid's consciousness. For as long as it exists.

Then it sees Trevor's attention turn to something behind it. The senses are dulling and the vision is getting blurry but it can faintly hear him calling out to someone. To… run? He turns his head and spots a brown smudge in the distance. If anything, it is going down, it might as well look.

"Henry? I… See… You!" it proclaims before its left eye is shot out by a distant, suppressed gunshot from Patches.

The mechanism recoils as it should and the bolt is pulled back. All working fine, all working smooth. The stock is still intact and the magazine only misses two projectiles; the one just fired and the one now in the chamber. Fired right away but missing the right eye. It still embeds itself into the forehead of the hybrid. Its scaly armor weakened by its deflating and wilting state.

As the hybrid starts screeching, feeling the pain and fear, it starts peeling like a banana as a foul odor rises from the decaying husk like steam from a pipe. Its tentacles shrivel up like raisins. Trevor watches this happening with a sense of pride and accomplishment, but is quickly reminded by Patches to grab the core and get back into the apartment.

Snapping out of the trance, he runs for the core and takes it back underneath his actually unhurt arm. That he managed to pull that off convincingly still boggles him. The amount of theatrics he had to pull off… he definitely deserves some kind of award for it. But as he looks back at what he helped destroy, he sees that its story is not over.

It looks like a vase standing on collapsing feet, holding the most disgusting blooming flower with rotten lily pad leaves. A geyser of blood, some kind of steam and purple puss is violently ejected into the sky. Trevor quickly takes shelter underneath the cover the entrance to the apartment building provides but sees that the ejection of remains might be the least of his worries.

From the meat flaps, four slightly gelatinous but mostly fleshy masses with very angry eyes emerge and charge right at him for revenge. They are like enlarged, enraged snails without a house and their ooze is corroding to both stone and asphalt. He calls for covering fire from Patches as he himself opens up on those weird things.

In the flurry of fire, neither of them see what has blossomed from the mutant flower. Something that resembles a native canid Cornerian. Definitely canine but with all identifying marking removed. A dark, thick purple coating prevents any fur from being shown. If it even has any left. It looks bewildered at its independence and its freedom. It can move its own arms and its legs. Down to the smallest finger and toe. And they look… normal even? But mentally, it is not alright. It instantly gets a headache until it remembers something. Or rather someone. It looks in the direction that someone went. His vision close by is perfect but anything beyond a few meters is nothing but a smudge. A sad situation caused by a lack of his prescription glasses. But he knows that whoever that was, helped him escape from his Aparoid nightmare and looked like it had brown fur. And when he looks in that direction, the headache is gone. It makes sense now; it must be him.

"H-Henry…? W-wait…"

So he runs for it. And fast too. It feels so weightless, like it is ice skating.

In the meantime, Trevor and Patches have turned those slimy monstrosities into useless paste. As their remains seep away into the porous stone below, Trevor can holster his revolver in the knowledge that the danger has been dealt with.

He steps out from underneath the cover and gives his +1 a big thumbs up. She cheers in response after putting the sniper rifle back into the apartment. They compliment each other on their performances and managing to defeat that awful hybrid. They have a nice big gaff over it, especially the part where Patches improvised that moment of broken love. But she is not having that compliment without mentioning how Trevor did such an amazing job with the hand signals she could observe with that monocular.

"Well, how about we say we both did amazing?" Trevor suggests.

And Patches can agree to this compromise. However, are they not leaving someone out?

"Your girlfriend was instrumental as well."

"Oh of course! But she's not in the window now. Is she in already?"

"No not yet. Maybe she's celebrating with herself." she reasons.

Trevor can see that. He can already see her chuckle to herself while walking through the hallway. But instead of a chuckle, both he and Patches hear a blood-curdling scream coming from inside of the building.