Xenotober 2024 10 Frye and Irina, part 4 (lights)

a/n: Frye is fooling no one, not even himself. Which is not to say that Irina fully understands. Editing? No. I'm trying to outrun internet failure.

Irina took Frye's silence for agreement, which wasn't wrong. "I know that area around your mission," she said. "I've been there with the Colonel and her rookie. The rocks make the passage even more narrow. Only a careful pilot in a fast skell is going to avoid tripping over angry indigen."

"Making it a very normal, very Interceptor mission," replied Frye. "We clear swarms like that to let people get on with their lives. 100% pure Interceptor." The transport pane hadn't arrive yet, and there was nothing to do but pray to the gods of public transportation to speed it towards their stop.

"That area leads to caves. And caves mean Prospectors. Stop lying to me."

"What it means is we can get it done by midnight. A nice short mission in a nice compact area, and we get home to our own little beds by midnight." A shudder in the air above them proved that some small deity loved Frye. A second later the propellers of the transport copter drowned out any further conversation. "Mind your head as you get in."

Frye hated that Irina was so close to being right. He'd chosen a mission along that stretch because there was always a ticket for it on the mission board. He should know: he picked that same mission every week, most recently the day before yesterday. It was familiar and nothing beyond what he could manage even with the slight drag of a teammate equal parts capable and inebriated. Of course he had lied about being in danger of probation. He was as safe in his ranking as Irina herself. It was easier to get away with the other stuff he pulled when at least part of his record remained pristine. He'd stopped thinking why his preferred maintenance missions featured caves and not beaches, mineral deposits instead of scenic view points. It was just a habit by now, and he'd forgotten the origin. He didn't want Irina to remind him that it was anything but chance.

They got into their seats for the short flight. Irina slumped against the window as Frye fussed over her seat belt. "I hate people like you," she said. "You're a waste."

"Sure," agreed Frye easily. Again. she wasn't wrong, but this wasn't something he was desperate to hide.

Her breath misted the widow as they flew across the city. "He wouldn't have been a waste," she said to the lights below them. "Kids like Gwin are all about chasing the next big explosion, but Leon would have understood it all. He'd have understood how we got here, what it meant, where we need to go." She sagged a little lower. "I wish he had worked with Elma. He'd have given that Rook some real competition."

"Elma's rookie is okay," Frye said.

"Never got a chance," Irina muttered. She was starting to slur a little.

Frye knew it had to be said. "I'm sorry about your brother."

"That's why I hate guys like you. What a waste," she said, flaring up one last second before putting her forehead against the glass. Her eyes glittered silver in the reflection.

Once again Frye couldn't argue.

a/n: z15f20i12e09l14d on loop. Note to Guest: He he he I have been thinking about this pair for a month and a half and I am jumping ALL OVER this opportunity. Hopefully I can stick the landing.

Next up: Get in the skell, Frye! I mean it this time.