Nokgorka // Downtown Bahamut // Friday Evening
It had been barely a week since the most recent lull in the fighting. Both sides had pulled back to bury their dead, or at least honor them since all the bodies had been incinerated, but the war was still definitely on. The brown-haired boy had lost his mentor in that slaughter. The green eyed girl with him had lost a father. They had a war to fight, though, so they were on patrol. There had been reports of Red activity around the warehouses on the east side of the desolate center of the city, and something about it was making the Elders nervous, and so Makita and Proto were dispatched. So far, though, there'd been no signs of a serious Red presence.
"Looks like it was just scouting parties, or maybe a few squads running through the area." The boy's tone was conversational, but his eyes continued to sweep the snowy ground around them, rifle slung easily in his arms, ready in case he was wrong.
"Always so pessimistic," his companion scolded as she clambered up on to a ruined tank, pulling out a pair of field goggles. "It's the New Year, and I've been a good girl. I should get some Reds to kill for being on my best behaviour."
The grin dropped off her face quickly however, and her fingers snapping up to signal an alert which caused the boy's smile to fade into a serious expression. "Energy signature. Three blocks north; Protocol... unverified."
He didn't ask stupid questions like 'any sign of movement?' or 'what is it?', she would have told him without prompting if she had the answers. He just checked his rifle (needlessly) and swept his eyes around the terrain, thinking about the collection of blasted warehouses and tenements in that direction. "Hit it head-on do you think, or loop around from the east?"
"I'm not reading anything else," she answered, tucking the goggles back inside her coat and hopping down to unsheath a hammer and scythe from her back. "I say head-on. If anyone is there, they'll be expecting a loop-about rather than a frontal assault."
"How did I know you were going to say that?" he asked fondly as he held his weapon against his chest with one hand and checked to make sure his sidearm was secure. "Well, you know I can't ever say 'no' to you, so lead on."
"You could always try." The grin she shot him was bright and sharp as she picked up the pace, ghosting along between bombed-out buildings and moving from cover-to-cover as they neared the target. "I might like to see that, sometime."
Because he would say 'no', and she'd just ignore it.
*Switching to T.S.P,* she sent silently. *Testing testing...can you hear me now?*
*Online.* He scowled at her voice in his head even though she couldn't see the expression. *I hate this. Always gives me a headache.* Worth the cost, though, since it allowed them to communicate in complete silence. Still, it was tradition to complain about the headaches, and who was he to shirk tradition?
They swept forward in silence, not even really needing the T.S.P. to coordinate. They'd been together for so long that every movement was automatic. He'd watch the street as she swung around to clear a corner, and then she'd return the favor. It didn't take long to ascertain that... no one else was out in the cold with them.
"Damn Reds can't even show up for their own party," she grumbled, stalking through the ruins of the warehouse. "We're out here, in the cold and snow, using the Elder-cursed T.S.P. to be safe, and there's not even anyone here. How the hell am I getting a Protocol signature if there's no one around to power it? Some supply kaster take a wrong turn and forget to close a Gate?"
"The binocs could be on the fritz again," he suggested. Even though he knew that they couldn't be. Because that would require her to treat any of her gear with anything but the utmost of care. "Where is the reading centered, anyway?"
"Up there, second floor." The stairs were tested first, of course, to make sure they hadn't been damaged in the nearly two months of constant bombings from the Red Fleet. "Hey, can you see that purplish light?"
"What is that?" Oh, yeah. He could see it. "Doesn't look like any protocol signature I've ever seen." But... it certainly looked like a Gate.
"Looks like a Gate," she said, echoing his thoughts. She edged slightly closer to get a better look at the rippling dark-blue oval. "Wrong shape, wrong energy, wrong everything, but it just feels like a Gate. It's not one of ours, that's for damned sure."
"Haven't seen any Red protocols that look like this either. And... there aren't any of them around here." He knelt to run his hand across the snow which had blown in through a broken window. "Doesn't look like they were ever here, either." Something weird was going on.
She scrunched up her nose, thinking for a moment before re-harnessing her weapons and scooping up some snow, packing it into a ball and backing up a few feet. "Take cover, lover."
She was going to throw it right at the Gate-Not-Gate, and see what happened.
Falling back a bit and training his rifle on the Gate-Not-Gate, he gave her a nod. "Clear." The ball of snow sailed through and... nothing happened. Just like you'd expect from a Gate. "Well... it's a Gate. Maybe."
The look she shot him was both scathing and amused. "Brilliant deduction, Proto." When nothing came back out at them, she dug around in the snow until she found a bit of splintered wood from the former roof, and scooted closer again to poke at it. In. Out. In. Out. Not Dirty. And nothing was shattered or burning or trying to kill them, so... "I'm going to go with Gate. Experimental Protocol that got away from them, then, or maybe something Transnational."
"Which means we get to check it out." Oh yes, that grin meant exactly what he thought it meant.
"Oh, no, that's a terrible idea, Maki." Yet, despite his objections, he was already swinging his rifle up over his shoulder and checking his pack. What had he said earlier about saying 'no'?
"We're the recon team, we do the job," she reminded him as she started securing her own gear. "I'm sending a report to Dushka now. Hopefully he'll get it all down and remember to give it to someone before he goes off on another tangent -- Dammit, Dushka!" Makita shook her head, mentally scolding the person on the other end of the T.S.P. "I'm on hold. He says the Elders have other orders."
There was a pause, then; "You got everything you need? The Gate is our transfer, something about specialized training. We're shipping out, effective immediately."
Proto rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" He shook his head before she could answer. "Of course. Would it have killed them to give us a transfer-warning? Or tell us what gear to pack. Well," he sighed, "it's not like we actually own anything more than we've got..."
"They can never tell us the whole plan, what if we're captured, blah blah blah..." Makita's expression probably spoke volumes about the likelihood of either of them ever being taken alive. "Ready?"
"You're point," he nodded. "I've got your back." Always.
"Always." And with a grin and a wink, she was gone.
He, and his laugh, were right behind her.
[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC = Love. Written by make_the_shot and gorka_wolf.]
"Looks like it was just scouting parties, or maybe a few squads running through the area." The boy's tone was conversational, but his eyes continued to sweep the snowy ground around them, rifle slung easily in his arms, ready in case he was wrong.
"Always so pessimistic," his companion scolded as she clambered up on to a ruined tank, pulling out a pair of field goggles. "It's the New Year, and I've been a good girl. I should get some Reds to kill for being on my best behaviour."
The grin dropped off her face quickly however, and her fingers snapping up to signal an alert which caused the boy's smile to fade into a serious expression. "Energy signature. Three blocks north; Protocol... unverified."
He didn't ask stupid questions like 'any sign of movement?' or 'what is it?', she would have told him without prompting if she had the answers. He just checked his rifle (needlessly) and swept his eyes around the terrain, thinking about the collection of blasted warehouses and tenements in that direction. "Hit it head-on do you think, or loop around from the east?"
"I'm not reading anything else," she answered, tucking the goggles back inside her coat and hopping down to unsheath a hammer and scythe from her back. "I say head-on. If anyone is there, they'll be expecting a loop-about rather than a frontal assault."
"How did I know you were going to say that?" he asked fondly as he held his weapon against his chest with one hand and checked to make sure his sidearm was secure. "Well, you know I can't ever say 'no' to you, so lead on."
"You could always try." The grin she shot him was bright and sharp as she picked up the pace, ghosting along between bombed-out buildings and moving from cover-to-cover as they neared the target. "I might like to see that, sometime."
Because he would say 'no', and she'd just ignore it.
*Switching to T.S.P,* she sent silently. *Testing testing...can you hear me now?*
*Online.* He scowled at her voice in his head even though she couldn't see the expression. *I hate this. Always gives me a headache.* Worth the cost, though, since it allowed them to communicate in complete silence. Still, it was tradition to complain about the headaches, and who was he to shirk tradition?
They swept forward in silence, not even really needing the T.S.P. to coordinate. They'd been together for so long that every movement was automatic. He'd watch the street as she swung around to clear a corner, and then she'd return the favor. It didn't take long to ascertain that... no one else was out in the cold with them.
"Damn Reds can't even show up for their own party," she grumbled, stalking through the ruins of the warehouse. "We're out here, in the cold and snow, using the Elder-cursed T.S.P. to be safe, and there's not even anyone here. How the hell am I getting a Protocol signature if there's no one around to power it? Some supply kaster take a wrong turn and forget to close a Gate?"
"The binocs could be on the fritz again," he suggested. Even though he knew that they couldn't be. Because that would require her to treat any of her gear with anything but the utmost of care. "Where is the reading centered, anyway?"
"Up there, second floor." The stairs were tested first, of course, to make sure they hadn't been damaged in the nearly two months of constant bombings from the Red Fleet. "Hey, can you see that purplish light?"
"What is that?" Oh, yeah. He could see it. "Doesn't look like any protocol signature I've ever seen." But... it certainly looked like a Gate.
"Looks like a Gate," she said, echoing his thoughts. She edged slightly closer to get a better look at the rippling dark-blue oval. "Wrong shape, wrong energy, wrong everything, but it just feels like a Gate. It's not one of ours, that's for damned sure."
"Haven't seen any Red protocols that look like this either. And... there aren't any of them around here." He knelt to run his hand across the snow which had blown in through a broken window. "Doesn't look like they were ever here, either." Something weird was going on.
She scrunched up her nose, thinking for a moment before re-harnessing her weapons and scooping up some snow, packing it into a ball and backing up a few feet. "Take cover, lover."
She was going to throw it right at the Gate-Not-Gate, and see what happened.
Falling back a bit and training his rifle on the Gate-Not-Gate, he gave her a nod. "Clear." The ball of snow sailed through and... nothing happened. Just like you'd expect from a Gate. "Well... it's a Gate. Maybe."
The look she shot him was both scathing and amused. "Brilliant deduction, Proto." When nothing came back out at them, she dug around in the snow until she found a bit of splintered wood from the former roof, and scooted closer again to poke at it. In. Out. In. Out. Not Dirty. And nothing was shattered or burning or trying to kill them, so... "I'm going to go with Gate. Experimental Protocol that got away from them, then, or maybe something Transnational."
"Which means we get to check it out." Oh yes, that grin meant exactly what he thought it meant.
"Oh, no, that's a terrible idea, Maki." Yet, despite his objections, he was already swinging his rifle up over his shoulder and checking his pack. What had he said earlier about saying 'no'?
"We're the recon team, we do the job," she reminded him as she started securing her own gear. "I'm sending a report to Dushka now. Hopefully he'll get it all down and remember to give it to someone before he goes off on another tangent -- Dammit, Dushka!" Makita shook her head, mentally scolding the person on the other end of the T.S.P. "I'm on hold. He says the Elders have other orders."
There was a pause, then; "You got everything you need? The Gate is our transfer, something about specialized training. We're shipping out, effective immediately."
Proto rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" He shook his head before she could answer. "Of course. Would it have killed them to give us a transfer-warning? Or tell us what gear to pack. Well," he sighed, "it's not like we actually own anything more than we've got..."
"They can never tell us the whole plan, what if we're captured, blah blah blah..." Makita's expression probably spoke volumes about the likelihood of either of them ever being taken alive. "Ready?"
"You're point," he nodded. "I've got your back." Always.
"Always." And with a grin and a wink, she was gone.
He, and his laugh, were right behind her.
[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC = Love. Written by make_the_shot and gorka_wolf.]