goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"I'll get out of here when the job's done. And the tech sells for a fortune if you have the right buyer." And he knows exactly who to sell to.

He heads back over, closes the traps after him, reactivates them and holds out the jerrycan. "Different priorities these days. I'm getting paid to do what I'm good at. Not a lot of work like that around anymore." He inclines his head. "And I'm not good at a whole lot else."

"And those tend to always have the right kinda priorities, don't they? Just wanna slap it on a shelf and call it good." He's done things he's not all that proud of in the interest of staying off the radar and alive. But there are some things he never touched, never would touch, and would rather just pass right on by.

He takes the can and fills up the tank, keeping Wash on his good side. Habit.

"I'm not the guy to bang on the legitimate employment drum, but of all of us you had the cleanest record. Just say'n. You got options."

"We worked for a black ops program involved in illegal experimentation. I had a fragment of that tear my brain apart twice. What makes you think I care about whether someone has the right priorities. It doesn't matter. Even the good guys are awful."

He leans back against the car, watching York carefully.

"I don't know how to do anything else. Tried when they finally let me go. Didn't work."

"Back then it was fucked up but necessary. There was a war against alien race going on and we were facing down the very real barrel of extinction. Different time for different sins, but now? We're not exactly at war anymore." They shouldn't be. The fight's over, they should get to just- go home.

All he wants is to get enough time underground to go home. That's it.

"See- I'll buy that it didn't work. I don't buy that they let you go."

"It never ends. Not really. We just find someone else to fight against." That was the way it seemed. If that wasn't true, they wouldn't need mercenaries like him around. They'd all be out of business. "And you know as well as I do, winning the war was just an excuse for the Director. It was never the real reason."

He doesn't reply for a moment when York says that, and he can feel the words that remain unsaid beneath it.

"It took a while. But I wasn't as useful as they'd hoped. Why keep around someone who's half crazy and refuses to try another AI?"

"People are always gonna fight. But we don't need to be giving dynamite out to toddlers throwing a fit." There are lines you cross when you're protecting your planet. Red that drenches a ledger. But against your fellow man? Just use a damn bullet. Anything more is just- worse.

"Never gave a damn for his reasons. It was mine for signing on, and why I bailed." Part of it, even. But there's the rest, there. Investments that don't just walk off.

"...This before or after Maine went crazy and killed North?"

"It doesn't matter. I just do the job, and then go my own way. I don't care. I stopped caring a long time ago York."

He couldn't afford it anymore. It caused too much damage. Made him ache and lie awake at night, too fucked up even for nightmares.

The question about Maine and North hurts like that. He's tried forgetting them. Failed. Like he's failed with forgetting everything else where it's all burned into his brain.

"Does it matter? They're both gone."

"When you might be on the line for people that I've faked my death twice to avoid- yeah, kid, it kinda matters." Wash doesn't do intuitive- he's a number two. Well. The kid he knew was a number two, a type B in a group of type As. Yessir, no sir, three bags full sir and a lot of shit can change a guy. That empty space is one he's trying to be aware of.

But.

Most of them did better with direction. And someone is holding the chain here, Wash mentioned calling in. Aside from safety and paranoia, there's reporting in.

"Project Freelancer is gone. Only reason I had to go after you was personal. And here we are." Carolina might have words to say to him too. They'll see when it comes down to it he supposes. "I've got nothing on the Meta either. Seems I missed a whole load of crap there."

He's not sure how he would have taken seeing Maine like that, more than the glimpses he'd had. Those had been enough.

"Unless you've somehow managed to piss off the rebels in the time you've been here, which I would have heard about, then we're clear."

"All I've done is crash." not like that stopped anyone from shooting at him anyway- and the fact that Wash took a potshot at him over something 'personal'? This was probably not his best idea. Not his worst just yet, but not a good one. Whoever he's reporting back to better have a good line on hand or he's just gonna take the first rocket off this damn place, old friend or no.

Car full and ready to go he sets the jerry can in the back with the rest of the crates and swings back into the driver's seat. "Waiting on you."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem," Wash replies, and he's pretty proud that he manages to sound like it really is that simple, when it isn't simple at all.They are so far past simple right now that simple might as well be on the dark side of the moon. The moon back on Earth, not on Chorus.

"I"m coming." He double checks the security, just in case, and then climbs back up into the car. "Shouldn't be too long before we get to base."

"Gimme a navpoint and an ETA. I'd rather not surprise someone." Surprises meant getting shot and he really, really doesn't like getting shot. he's had his fill, please and thank you.

Really, York was giving the rebels too much credit. Probably giving most of the Feds too much credit honestly by what he'd seen of them. Backwater planet, most of the people just weren't ready for the kind of life they were living now.

He gives York the navpoint. "And it should be... twelve minutes. There's an entrance to a cavern we're using as a base. Pretty extensive tunnel system around here. It's useful."

"Convenient." He follows the directions as offered, frowning a little at their surroundings. For a planet in the middle of a civil war it's- quiet.

disturbingly so.

"It makes our lives easier. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that crap."

As they get nearer, the spot signs of life. Buildings cobbled together, bunkers built into the rock. People. With weapons.

"Hey, pull over."

"We don't get gift horses, Wash. We get Trojans." But sure, driving to the cave system. till he hears people.

"...they yours?"

"And here I thought I was the pessimistic one."

It's the rebels. It wouldn't be anyone else, not down here. They've not arranged for any combat to happen until this is sorted out so... "Yeah, they're mine."

"...they really don't look like much." A beat. "I always did like rooting for the underdog."

"WHy do you think they hired me?" Wash replies. There's a smirk when he hears York say that. Probably best he had been picked up by Wash. Rooting for the underdog made this an easier prospect to sell at least.

"They're... not brilliantly trained, not really soldiers most of them. But they believe in what they're doing. They want to make a better life for themselves, apart from the oppressive government regime."

"And they didn't think to ping the UNSC for assistance...why? There are avenues for colonists. Shit, this'd probably be right up their alley since they're trying to get some good PR back in the aftermath of the...everything of their super soldier projects coming to light." Planet wide radio jam? that takes tech, power, know how- and resources a planet in the middle of a civil war shouldn't be able to swing easily.

Sure it's the first thing they'd do but- handling it on their own? Not tactically sound. From either side.

Bring in a Freelancer and-

well you're asking for explosions and new reasons for PTSD panic attacks. Not really fights won.

"They can't. They tried. Everyone tried. Don't know if it's been set up by the feds or if it's something to do with the alien tech but signal out here is... patchy at best. Non-existant for the most part." He shrugs and hops out of the car, waving to the couple of rebels who rush up. They stare at York warily, but for Wash there's nothing but enthusiasm and something near reverence.

"Hey, is Kimball around? Got someone she needs to meet."

"Unless it all got trashed in the war, shouldn't be like that." But then a lot of shit got trashed during the war. Not a lot of it ever got fixed. Still there's gotta be some way to boost a signal and god what he wouldn't give for Delta right now. He could run the numbers, point York in the right direction. Tell him what wires needed twisting and what lock needed cracking.

All he gets now is a migraine.

The reaction to wash, well. He's laughing a little inside his helmet but otherwise does his best to look unintimidating. "Hey guys. Just an old friend of Wash's here from back in the day. Heard you could use a hand."

Not mentioning the getting shot at thing. nope.

Wash gives a helpless shrug. "No idea. It's been like this since I got here."

They're good kids. It's kind of a shame what's going to happen to them, but if they want to lose their lives to a cause... who is Wash to stop them? York gets the same kind of reverent stare when he introduces himself, and the mutters about another Freelancer being there are clearly audible.

After a few moments they get waved through the checkpoint, deeper into the caves which are a hive of activity.

"Park up somewhere. I'll take you to see Kimball. She's the boss round here."

"Why is it always women? Wait, no, I know. men charge up front and get themselves shot. Women plan." At least the smart ones did. Smart men...still charged in and got shot. he'd know. He swings back into the car and pulls into a nondescript part of the cave, tugging out the camo netting he'd hauled along with him. Enough fuel to get him back to the site for another round of supplies if needed.

or to get him the hell out of dodge if shit went south.

Who is he kidding, he knows his luck. It's not an if, it's a when.

"What can I say? I like the continuity. She's not Carolina but she's pretty good at what she does." She'd survived longer than her predecessors had. Wash could respect that.

"I'd say I'd give you the tour, but there's not a huge amount to see. It's... they're always strapped for supplies, for everything really. I do what I can to make sure they have enough to keep going. I'm like you," he adds more quietly. "Can't help but root for the underdog."

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