anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

"We sought a bounty on a crime lord's son. He took it poorly."

That's the shortest possible version of the story, but still essentially what brought it all about. Recklessness. He's since learned several valuable lessons, and fallen out of that business altogether.

"One of those clubs belonged to him. The new management seems to prefer a more petty line of corruption. I only counted two armed guards."

Taylor whistles. "Damn. That's one way to make an impression.

A negative one.

"Less trafficking, more gambling. Awful lot of talk about a fight for a club without television screens." Shit he overheard between songs. Shit he'd given half a look but didn't dig into because, um, hungry? And it's not enough to take a risk on just yet. Though...

"...When I've got the hang of shit I'll look into their accounts. Call it a practice run."

"I doubt their security will be much trouble for you, given your skills. But if you like."

It will give him something to calibrate with, perhaps. Give him an idea of just how quickly he can do the necessary calculations and adjustments. Hacking, contrary to popular culture's depiction, is rarely an exciting thing to watch.

But he just might. For York's reactions more than anything.

"You'd be surprised. Crime pays well and if you can afford a solid IT guy with loose morals? You can get a solid setup going." A beat. "Provided you know enough to do that. Most people that work on the seedier side don't always get that they can be fucked over without guns."

His favorite kind of crime. The kind where no one gets killed over it. Mostly.

"Then I'll be interested to see what you uncover."

The condo they're staying at is in the city's heart. A long list of guests in and out, and a high number of rooms keeps them mostly hidden and forgettable, as does a limited amount of luggage to bring with them.

They'll be unbothered. They accept cash and don't ask too many questions.

It's nicer than any place he's been able to find in the past five years. Having a bed, a shower, running water and air conditioning? Kickass. Space to actually detail clean and repair the armor is also kickass, but enjoying the night as a civvie has it's perks. Like a lack of helmet hair and none of that titanium weave smell the undersuits tend to leave behind. He toes his shoes off once they're inside, fiddling with the new phone he'd snagged along with the clothes.

Something basic like this is a good place to start- pulling up the old holographic testing program's easy enough. Soon he's perched on the sofa, flicking through shapes as fast as they're rendered.

Locus eases his way into a chair, watching from a short distance away. This has never been a skill of his, save perhaps disabling rudimentary functions. Cameras, likes, seals and the like. What York does is considerably more complex.

And competence looks good on anyone.

Soon his fingers are a blur- mind keeping time with Delta as they flick through puzzles one after the other, faster and faster, only the odd blip of green and soft beep of a successful solution interrupting the flex and twist of his wrist. It's easier than it was. "I can keep up with Delta, now. I have to actually slow down for this shit to render properly."

"You will find a rhythm that works. I had the same trouble for a time. Everything felt as though it were moving too slowly for me. It simply takes some getting used to."

Locus's mouth ticks upwards slightly in approval.

"But you're doing well, thus far."

"Having delta helps me compensate- the time dilation adjustment between talking to him out here and in my head's always been a thing." And now more so, but. It's not annoyingly difficult, just a balance.

The device beeps and shuts off in short order, leaving York squinting at his hands. "That...beat my old record by half an hour. Jesus."

It will be terribly impressive to see him at work in earnest. A world he couldn't fathom was open to him now, there for him to claim piece by piece as he grew stronger. More skilled. While he'd never heard of a vampire using his powers for hacking purposes, it shouldn't have surprised anyone that he could now outstrip his previous marks so far.

Locus gives him a faint nod. "You'll only grow better, given time. My aim was considerable before I became what I am. Now? I am unmatched."

Said with no ego at all, just matter-of-fact.

"How long have you been like this, if you don't mind me asking?" Nothing like a measuring stick to gauge his adjustment against. Maybe it's not the most healthy thing but; he wants to be able to measure...something. This isn't exactly something he can go to a physician about anytime soon.

"Decades. I was turned during the last great war on Earth. Before we even knew of the Covenant's existence." He'd been a soldier then, too. It seemed in his nature to seek out war, the chain of command, anything familiar from his life before.

His maker had known that. Tried to use that to win him back to his side.

Hadn't precisely gone his way, however.

That's- a considerable amount of time. Delta pings through the numbers and weighs what very little they know of Locus against what they know of the course of both wars, the military climate during and between both, and what they've seen so far. It's...puzzling, a little worrying, and no goddamn wonder he'd been trying to find something to do with his time.

No war on the horizon, not really, and all this? A way to fill his nights. "...so how long were you aware of the project?"

"The investigation by Chairman Hargrove brought the project to my attention. As keen as he was to unearth the Director's sins, he was less than discreet in the documentation he pulled. It was easy to find you. To seek out what remained to see what would become of you."

Luckily, he'd happened across the right place at the right time, to save at least one of them.

So, not during. A knot of tension in his shoulders eases somewhat- not that any one person swinging in to put a stop to it would've worked. Hell. It didn't really work when someone from inside the house was trying to change shit. He puts the list of names and sins he could (should) but won't hold against the remaining scragglers away for the moment.

"So how does a vampire ex soldier get into the mailing list of super secret military projects to poke around in the first place?"

"The Chairman wanted to hire me. I don't enter contracts lightly, so I researched the man and the projects he was entertaining at the time." One eyebrows arches ever so slightly. "You may be the best at what you do, but I've been able to manage through the years."

He's had to make do, to survive.

"Hire you?" That's- concerning. His attention flicks up from round two of 'digital lock testing module' and sharpens. "What the hell was he doing that he'd need to hire you? What's a businessman need with a merc?"

Nothing good, but- running the numbers on that has Delta combing through what few communications they picked up while on the run.

"He was hoping I would assist him in the acquisition of a planet on the far edge of the system. I was...deeply uninterested in doing so."

His mouth thins. There's more than one reason he's avoiding that planet, so let it be someone else's problem.

"...you don't just. Aquire planets-" Delta flicks from one process to another as quick as thought- they can't dig through Charon's business details yet but combing through backlogs of chatter? Doable.

"No. You do not. Particularly when they are inhabited."

And Chorus is inhabited. The population is locked in the midst of a civil war, however, and likely to doom itself in short order. The Chairman, so far as he can see, is simply being impatient on the matter.

"...that doesn't exactly sound good for the people living there." Not his problem, he shouldn't poke at it.

And yet, this is the same fuck that had the Director so paranoid in the past few months. The same guy poking at the corpse of the Project. There may or may not be a connection worth investigating. Maybe.

"They are currently concerned with killing one another, and little will deter them from that endeavor."

But now his attention is honed in on his fledgling once more. He's concerned for them. He may want to investigate further, or intervene.

That will be...unfortunate.

"He wanted you to nudge that shit along, didn't he?" One side or the other would leave survivors. Poking both ends would have them wiping themselves out, plausible enough deniability, leaving an empty planet to claim afterward. Some of what he'd picked up before makes sense now.

Locus's eyes narrow slightly, watching as York pieced it together. Naturally. Puzzles were his specialty, were they not? "He did. It would have provided a great deal of money, as well as an abundance of hunting. But I wanted no part in it."

And without someone by his side to convince him otherwise, he turned his back on what could have been a very lucrative contract.

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