anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

[ He's poised at a juncture in the hall, holding up a fist to halt their progress, before lifting four fingers, and gesturing around the corner. The rifle is effective when aiming, but slower than he'd like. One shot will take them by surprise, but then there will be three guns aimed in their direction.

He reaches for a stun grenade on his belt, counting off one, then two, before tossing it around the corner, waiting for the detonation before drawing out into view and taking a knee to fire.

That gives Vulpes room to step behind him and fire as well, from some kind of cover. ]

[ Four targets, Cerberus going low. Why the taller one goes low- well it makes sense. He's got both eyes, better aim. Being high gives Vulpes a better shot at hitting center mass. They've practiced this exact movement enough times he brings his rifle to bear and pivots around the corner in perfect sync, picking off two with blasts to the chest.

Squeeze the trigger, aim, squeeze. He doesn't worry about the closer of the two targets- Cerberus has those. ]

[ One gets a shot straight to the head, throwing him back over his collapsed comrades. The last barely gets his gun up to try a blind shot in their direction before the second shot is fired, catching him in the gut. He staggered back, crumples against the wall, and slides down with a groan.

Instantly Cerberus in on his feet again, taking point, moving past the pron bodies and pushing towards the exit. ]

[ Trackers clear, all hostiles down. As best he can tell they're good till they're out. Vulpes doesn't relax, though- he's been wrong before.

They've always come out fine but a healthy paranoia is kind of a requirement in these sorts of jobs. He's tight on Cerberus' back, checking alternate corners as they come through intersections in the hallway, half a mind on the trackers they'd left behind. ]

Our Six is clear.

We need to move.

[ As quickly as they can, before more arrive. They've got what they came for, no reason to be sloppy now.

Their back is clear. Anyone approaching from the front is going to be dealt with, just as they had already done. His mind is working to keep from straying too far ahead, to what will happen once they hit the shuttle. Stay in the moment.

No mistakes now. ]

[ Best he can tell, nothing coming up. He gives Cerberus' shoulder a faint nudge to keep going forward. It's not far now, then 100 yards to the shuttle, then the flight to the ship.

Then he can freak out.

The site isn't entirely clear- but the dots in the security hub are working blind thanks to his lockdown on the cameras and anyone deeper in the facility probably won't catch up till they're out. Perfect fucking timing.

If it weren't for the module on his back? He's be riding an adrenaline high. Right now it's all knotted up anxiety that he swallows down, bringing his rifle to bear to pick off the one poor asshole that swings around a corner between them and the exit. ]

[ Cerberus steps back, swings his leg low for good measure, and that blow sinks the guard to the floor with a heavy thud. The door's just ahead, and Cerberus motions for Vulpes to go first.

He'll cover if anyone else manages to slip in from behind. And he reasons Vulpes might need a moment, once they're clear of this mess.

He remembers the state he was in that night that he'd found him, sleep-deprived, talking to the echo of his AI. He hopes he's done the right thing here, but it's too soon to tell. ]

[ He palms the door open and scans the yard between the door and evac point. All clear. Or camo'd but what the hell. He flicks his own on, give's Cerberus' foot a tap with his heel as he sprints for it.

100 yards, 80, 75 and he's tempted to tap into the speed module just to be done but he hasn't quite mastered stopping on a dime yet. How the fuck did Carolina manage it?

Halfway there and trusting C's right behind him, not looking back till he's got an arm on the ramp hauling himself up, twisting to offer a hand down to his partner. ]

[ It's impossible to trust that they've made until they actually set foot on the settle, and Cerberus takes the offered hand to hoist himself up, quickly moving inward to allow room for the door to close behind them.

They've got it. And apparently much more than they'd bargained for. His gaze immediately falls to Vulpes, watching intently. ]

FLISS, take us out.

[ They got what they came for and more. It takes a stupid amount of self control not to rip his helmet off and jam the chip home but-

Debrief, take inventory. Work first.

Even if he's breathing a little hard as he stores the new modules. The AI storage unit goes on a side table as they take off, York's hands trembling when he reaches up to unfasten his helmet. ]

Good job. [ His current partner comes first. Always. ] We got out ahead of schedule and without tripping any serious alarms.

[ Locus peels his helmet off as well, watching the tremble of his hands, brow furrowed. He'd ask if he's alright, but it's clear enough. He doesn't really need to ask, does he? ]

It's been going well. Though this appeared to be much more than we thought. He must be getting better at hiding his tracks. That, or he didn't expect anything in there to be of any concern to anyone other than him.

[ And why would he? With only two Freelancers left alive, according to most, who else would go digging around in a facility like this? ]

It was a low priority site. I expected data, not modules. Not...this.

[ Breathe. He needs to remember to breathe. ]

Hargrove probably thought the same thing. [ After a moment he steps up to his locker and starts popping off segments of armor. He's not reintroducing Delta or whatever's on that chip while suited up. ] If it's not what we think it is- if something goes wrong? You need to be ready.

[ Sigma is a cautionary tale in every which way. Just because it was labeled Delta doesn't mean it's not one of the others. Best case scenario? Theta, Eta, or Iota. Epsilon would be a fucking mess, Gamma's a rotten liar, Sigma's a creepy motherfucker and Omega-

Christ. ]

[ His eyes narrow as he straightens, watching the armor pieces fall away. ]

...what are you doing?

[ He's gone tense, but he's not moving to stop him. Not yet. Getting that containment unit was one thing, but was York seriously planning on just sticking that thing into his head, without any sort of preliminary precaution?

He knew the system better than Locus did, but that seemed very unwise. ]

Changing.

[ It's something methodical and normal enough for him to calm the fuck down. Gradually his hands steady as more of the armor comes off, slotted neatly into his storage locker. ]

There's no real way to scan the contents and I don't have anything else to plug it into. If it's empty, fuck all happens. If it's D- I'll probably cry a little, not gonna lie. If it's anything else I'll try to react accordingly but knock me out and pull it.

If I can pull it.

[ Locus's jaw works tightly. It's his choice, but there are a number of risks to be taken into account. Risks he doesn't think Taylor's fully considered yet, even if he appears to be bracing for them. ]

We don't know for certain what's on there, if the data's corrupted...how it might affect you.

An AI is and isn't like a data file. It's either cognizant and aware and communicative in some way or another, even Epsilon was- or it isn't. At least in theory, fuck knows if this is gonna work.

Also why you're staying in the suit.

[ He'll be faster, stronger, better able to do something if York loses his damn mind. Down to the undersuit and this is probably the least contact he's had while changing out- fucking afterward isn't always a thing but it's a pretty normal celebration. Tee, sweats, suit locked up and it's just him barefoot, that thing on the table, and Locus armored up. ]

And what if it affects you? What if it manages to cause damage before I can pull it?

[ There has to be another way, a safer way, one that doesn't involve him putting himself at the most possible risk.

It's concern, in his own way, even if he won't tell him not to, won't try to dissuade him if this is what he really wants. But like Hell he won't say anything at all. He's past that unquestioning phase of his life. ]

You told me what Epsilon did to Agent Washington. We can't afford that happening to you. Not now.

Sudden surge of suicidal urges and a massive guilt complex? Nothing new.

[ It's been awhile, a long fucking while since he's taken a good look at a sidearm and thought 'what if', only because getting shot hurts and he's pretty sure he'd fuck it up. But the basic concept isn't that different.

Still.

He's got a point. Taylor skims a hand through his hair, fingers going tight as he tries to run through safe alternatives and coming up empty, tension winding so tight in his shoulders and spine that he feels like he's shaking.

Probably because he is. ]

There has to be a way to see what's inside without risking harm to you in the process.

[ Locus Greatly Disapproves. But if this is the course he's set on taking, he can be here to pick up the pieces if things go wrong. If there's anything left to pick up. It would be cruel to give him this opportunity only to deny him that closure, that certainty.

It jeopardizes their mission, which is far more important than a single AI. And some smaller, uglier part is furious that Taylor would risk what they have for the chance of having Delta back, even if he'd suspected that would be the case for a long time now. Finally, he lets out a breath, gesturing to the containment unit. ]

But it's up to you.

FLISS doesn't have any scanning tech that wouldn't involve connecting it to the ship and even if it is D that's exposing him to flight controls and FLISS' data. She can hold up pretty well but he's a sneaky fuck.

[ Taylor would know, he taught him how. ]

Maybe- fuck. [ Breathe. It's just a job, but it's not a job, it's D. It's the other half of that hole in his brain that he'd gotten used to because there wasn't ever an alternative. ] You're right. I'm not think'n clear.

[ Compromised would be the word. All because of a storage unit that may or may not have Delta in it, and even if it does, who knows what version of D it is? Taylor digs his nails in for a moment before turning away from the time bomb on the table, taking the few steps to close the distance between him and Locus. Thuds his head against his shoulder and tries to breathe. ]

...he was your partner.

[ It's quiet, as is the gentle hand that lifts to cup against the back of his head. Breathe. That's all he needs to do right now. The mission's complete, and they'll find a way to take a look at the device one way or another.

Hargrove didn't have the means or he might have dug him out of there already. Locus tries to think, processing what he knew about the entire ordeal. Alpha. The fragments. The Director.

Who had been found in a base no one had known of prior. ]

Are there any remaining Freelancer bases Hargrove might not be aware of? Most would have been stripped and dismantled, but if there's even one left...

This was the last one. Everything else has either been stripped or blown up or looted to fuck.

[ Deep, even breaths. Some of that trembling tension eases a little with Locus steadying him. There's gotta be a way. Gotta be something. ]

I could...rig something with one of the helmets. Isolate the system, shut off the broadcasting and network connections, plug it in there.

[ See what happens. ]

Just long enough to see what we're dealing with.

[ That's all he's asking for. A little caution. A little rationality. After all that's transpired, after they've come this far, to have something threaten that now...

He wants him to have this, truly. He does. He wouldn't have told him otherwise. ]

And this-

[ He mumbles, thudding his forehead against Locus' shoulder. ]

Is why I have you. Keep me from doing stupid shit.

[ Among other things, but right now? That's the most important aspect of their partnership. After another moment or so of breathing and trying to get his hands to calm the fuck down he peels away to tug out his helmet and gets to work. Cuts out network access, radio transmission, bumps up holographic projection. Popping open the AI unit makes him twitch because-

He knows that chip. He knows that shade of green, that letter. ]

Fuck.

[ Locus's hand settles on his shoulder. It's alright. It's going to work itself out one or another, and either way he's not going to be alone.

Just maybe less alone in one case than another.

His eyes fall on that chip, and he doesn't know why, but something anxious twists at his gut. Something he promptly pushes down and ignores. ]

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