Shiny Things

The hum of the transport was nearly an exact match to the humming coming from Franklin Delano Donut himself, the young dirty blond practically bouncing in his seat on board the common area of the transport ship.

That was to be expected, of course.  It was still hard for Donut to process that he was actually flying through space for the first time in his life.  The Elvari had never even made it off-planet before now.

Oh, sure.  His family had traversed the cosmos a few times before on account of potential sales and what-not, but that had been back when little Donut had been too young for interstellar travel.  Then, years later, no one would even bother asking him if he wanted to go too.  But, that had been fine with him.  Really!  Donut understood how important it was for there to be someone around to watch the crops.

Right now, he was traveling through space because he had an important mission to do.  He could barely contain his excitement!

The common area of the spaceship had been practically bursting with activity earlier when they had taken off from Blood Gulch, but now it was fairly quiet.  It was an excellent time to think on ways the décor could be changed for ambiance later since Pink, though he personally preferred calling his mech by the name LR, was safely stowed away in the hangar with the Warthog.

He was pretty much all on his own given that Volleyball had gone to help Church and Doctor Grey with making sure that the mechs were as comfy as could be for the voyage to the New Luna colony.  They’d already looked mighty cozy to Donut, but he supposed everyone needed something to do on the trip, especially if mentally redecorating wasn’t their thing.  The half-Veroni named Carolina had gone to check up on their pilot.

Donut wasn’t quite sure where Lopez was, as the brown-colored robot had wandered out of the common area without so much as a word earlier.  But the Elvari suspected that maybe had something to do with Lopez being just as overwhelmed with his first voyage into space as Donut was.  If that was the case, even he could respect the need for privacy.  After all, it never did well to upset Lopez’s fiery Latin temper!

That just left Sarge in his “been there, done that” attitude when it came to space flight and Palomo in the common area along with Donut.

Sarge was busy cleaning his shotgun, and the older man seemed so invested in the action that he lost track of everything else.  So, naturally, there went Donut’s idea to polish his gun then himself.  He inwardly sighed at the missed opportunity to distract himself from “I’m finally in space!” thoughts.

Besides, Palomo had been lost in his own thoughts ever since they had lifted off.  Donut was about to ask the dark skinned young man what was on his mind, as it would be rude just to “look through” with his Elvari low level telepathy and Donut was not rude, when surprisingly the lieutenant beat him to the punch—looking over curiously at Donut in that exact moment.

“Oh, yeah!  You went to see your family before we left, right, sir?” Palomo asked, the light glowing teal lines of his half-Veroni heritage standing out on his face.

Donut blinked, feeling still a bit too young to be referred to as a “sir” along with being surprised by the inquiry.

Sarge paused in polishing his shotgun only for a moment at the overheard question, but Donut could tell that the Arenian was listening to the conversation.

Donut had to choke down the usual sense of dread that came with thinking about his family in order to smile and nod at Palomo’s question as if nothing was wrong, “That’s right.”

“How did that go?” The younger man asked curiously, “I mean, my folks live on Chorus so they were okay with me joining the military.  But with your colony so far away…” Palomo trailed off, but his line of questioning was fairly obvious.

“Oh!  That.” Donut grinned appreciatively at Palomo for his obvious concern, “It went well.  It was tough for them, I think, but they understood how I felt and why it was important for me to go.”

“Ah, I see!” Palomo nodded his head in understanding, “Cool, then!”

The teal-trimmed lieutenant then stood up and exited the common area, saying something about how he should probably check on Volleyball and the others.  Donut grinned even more and waved him off, glad to be with such a well-meaning crew.  Even if…

“So, what really happened when you went and told your folks?” Sarge asked quietly, having waited until Palomo left before speaking.

Donut smiled sadly, glancing over at the older soldier in red, “Do you even need to ask, Sarge?”

Sarge grunted in response, “Suppose not.” He stated, voice softer than it usually was as he added, “Their loss, son.”

Donut nodded his head in appreciation for the kind gesture.  For the rest of their voyage to New Luna, he tried not to think of doors slamming shut in his face.

*****

New Luna was an aptly named lunar colony just a few hours of space travel from Blood Gulch.  It was primarily an Arenian colony, at least according to the statistical information the group had acquired about it.  Which, much to Carolina’s growing frustration, was about the only data they were able to scrounge up on New Luna, even with Church and Doctor Grey combing through the digital networks.

“They probably just like their privacy.” Four Seven Niner had assured her as they approached the moon’s surface, “A lot of Arenian colonies are like that.  Trust me.”

The redhead knew that Four Seven Niner was speaking from personal experience, having been raised in one such colony herself.

“Still, going in blind isn’t exactly my favorite thing to do.” Carolina mused.

“Huh,” Four Seven Niner’s response was immediate, “And here I thought it was the only thing we did.”  The tan skinned pilot ignored the glare her half-Veroni friend sent her way at that, instead talking over her shoulder: “Better get the team ready to move out.  ETA is roughly two minutes.”

There had been no chatter over their communication channels ever since their arrival in the colony’s airspace, but that wasn’t necessarily a major cause for alarm like some might label it as.  After all, not every single colony liked to broadcast out to the rest of the universe.

No, the truth was that what was more alarming to Carolina was the lack of traffic as they approached New Luna.  Even as rustic as Blood Gulch had been, there had been centers of activity on the planet’s surface.  Here, there was practically nothing.  It was enough for her to bark out a quick “Look alert.” to everyone as the lift lowered.

They would be joined by their two new pilots on this expedition, so who knew how long the search would even take…  But, Carolina’s thoughts about the mission halted completely when they stepped outside.

New Luna was empty.  It was a complete ghost town.  All of the power supplies seemed to be running on reserve status only, and there were scorch marks and rubble they hadn’t seen from a distance before.  Not to mention the tell-tale signs of bullet holes through pavement and metal too.

A battle had taken place here some time ago.  Maybe just a few months before they had arrived.

“No wonder we couldn’t find any information on this place.” Church whistled from behind her.

Carolina nodded her head in quiet agreement, jumping down from the lift onto a patch of rubble just below the landing site.  The soft crunch of stone beneath her feet did nothing to tear her gaze away from the stillness all around them.

…However, the sound of a mech’s thrusters did the trick.

She wheeled around with the others, hands going instinctively to her weapons as an unidentified mech flew several meters away from the transport.  It was gun metal green in color with a splash of blue paint on its helmeted head.

The cockpit suddenly opened as a blond-haired man around Donut’s age popped his head out, apparently unperturbed by the sight of heavily armed newcomers.

“Hello!” The Arenian newcomer said in way of greeting, voice cheerful and friendly as he grinned and waved happily over at them, “It’s nice to see people again.  You can be friends with me and Freckles!”

It appeared as if the mech actually nodded at young man’s comment, visor glowing blue as it spoke in a booming voice, “AFFIRMATIVE.”

…Carolina was fairly certainly that their day could not get any stranger.

*****

Dexter Grif’s lungs were burning and his heart was pounding in his chest by the time they had finally managed to lose the gang by running in and out of side-alleys and narrow passageways hidden throughout Rat’s Nest.  Plus, his legs felt like they were on fire and his stomach was getting a massive cramp too.

Maybe there was something to be said for not eating five lunches or smoking, but fuck it!  You only live once, right?

Thankfully the door to the abandoned building that Grif sometimes snuck off to for naps was partially open.  So, he and the redhead he had just rescued, who unfairly didn’t seem nearly as out of breath as he did (what the fucking hell?!?), were able to squeeze inside and shut the door behind them.

It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the grainy, emergency-only lights that filtered into the dusty space.  Still, shitty lightning aside, it was definitely better than being out on the street.

The tan skinned man wheezed as he found a crate to sit on while the other guy still regarded him nervously.  Really, it was understandable given what the redhead had just been through.  Grif’s dark eyes went down to the shackle still attached to the alien’s foot.  He frowned at the sight of the rope still hanging from it.

“Hey.” Grif finally managed to get a word out without sounding like he was going to keel over any second.

The alien, a few years younger than himself it looked like, flinched slightly at being addressed.  Grif didn’t bother getting offended, knowing he would probably do the same in the Strassian’s predicament.  Slowly and carefully so that the other man could see what it was that he was doing, the dark haired human showed the alien the small pocket knife that he had used before to cut the tether.

“I can get the rest of that off of your foot.  If you want.” Grif offered, indicating with a downward tilt of his head towards what he meant.

The redhead glanced down at the shackle on his foot then, and nodded as he realized what Grif was indicating.  Hesitatingly, he walked the steps over to the crate that Grif was sitting on, observing with wide green eyes as the chubbier man jumped down to bend over his foot.

Fortunately, the shackle had just been made of a tough, thick cloth material.  He’d be able to saw it off no problem after several minutes.  Taking hold of the Strassian’s leg, and trying not to focus on how smooth it felt in his hand, Grif started to work.

“I’m Grif, by the way.” He said a few seconds later, hoping a conversation would help ease the tension and unsureness still swirling around them.

“Simmons.” The Strassian took his cue gratefully, “My teammates and I—!“

“Were hoping to bring that big orange mech back to wherever the fuck it is you came from.” Grif interrupted, summing things up pretty much on point given the questioning look that crossed over Simmons’ face then.

“Everyone on Rat’s Nest has that part figured out.  Even the errand boy nobodies like me,” he continued to explain, motioning towards the shackle, “And especially the gangs that were having territorial disputes in the area.  You know, the ones who also happen to have ties to those Charon assholes.”

Finally, his knife went through the heavy fabric as the captive band and remaining tether fell freely to the ground.  Grif grinned triumphantly at the accomplishment, feeling particularly proud of himself.  He stood up as Simmons experimentally tapped his now free foot on the ground, smiling gratefully.

When he caught Grif watching the expression on his face in awe, his green gaze turned questioning and a quickly reddening Grif had to think fast to cover up why he had been staring: “I…err…have never met someone with freckles like yours.”

Damn it.  He could really, really kick himself sometimes.  As Simmons stared down at his arms and chest at the comment, Grif coughed awkwardly and continued, “Blue ones, I mean.”

“A—all Strassians have them.” Simmons muttered, poking at his skin self-consciously.

“Never really seen a Strassian up close before.” Grif admitted to the alien, before adding dumbly the next thought that flew into his brain, “They suit you.  Looks…nice.”

Now it was Simmons’ turn to look dumbfounded, his pale skin taking on a reddish tone from the tips of his gorgeous red hair down to his…  It was at that point that both men became horribly aware of the fact that Simmons was still dressed only in his boxers.

Grif coughed, trying not to stare as the redhead began futilely trying to cover himself up, muttering, “This isn’t happening!  This isn’t happening!” under his breath like a mantra.

“Er, yeah.  A change of clothes would probably be good now, huh?” Grif tried joking.

Tearing himself away before Simmons could respond, Grif opened up his portable communicator and contacted Kai.  She must have already heard about what had happened because, when she answered, she was oddly serious.

The tan skinned girl didn’t even bother talking back at his odd request to bring some of his smaller clothes to one of their childhood hiding spots.  Grif was thankful for that, really.  He wasn’t sure how much Grif family drama Simmons could take in his current state.

The chubby man was surprised when he turned off the communicator, muttering to himself about “So much for living here peaceably anymore.” to find a still furiously blushing Simmons regarding him with a questioning look on his blue freckled features.

“Why’d you do it, anyways?” Simmons asked softly, arms still wrapped protectively around his chest, “Help me, I mean?”

It probably made as little sense to the Strassian as it would to anyone else living in Rat’s Nest.

Grif sighed before giving him a serious look, “Because there are some things that shouldn’t be done.  No matter what.”

Simmons stared at him in stunned silence, clearly not having expected such an answer from the human standing before him.

Grif smiled self-deprecatingly, “Bet you find that hard to swallow coming from someone like me, huh?” He asked jokingly.

“Of course I don’t.”

The statement was so emphatic and declarative that Grif had to do a double-take.  He was shocked at how determined Simmons was regarding him then.

“I can swallow it because you did help me.” Simmons further explained, nodding his head at Grif, “Thank you.”

Grif felt a slight rush of heat to his face and a knot in his throat at the trusting expression on the Strassian’s face.

He turned away quickly to hide how oddly touched he was by the words, “Huh.  No one but Kai would ever say that to me.” He remarked, “You’re a weird one, Simmons.”

“I—I am not!” The Strassian shouted defensively.

It was even cute when he got annoyed like that.  Grif had a hard time covering up his grin at the thought.

“Yo!  Bro, you in here?”

…Though, thankfully, Kai’s entrance a few seconds later made that a moot point.  He reached out and pulled her into the area the whole way, ignoring her indignant yelp and middle finger at the rough treatment.

“Yes!  Now keep your voice down!”

She gave him the finger again, “Hey!  You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Kai!”

Instead of going into her usual independent tirade, however, Kai shoved a pair of shorts and a shirt into Grif’s hands, rolling her eyes, “Here are the clothes, asshole.” She stated before her eyes wandered over to Simmons, “Although wouldn’t it be kinkier to parade your alien boyfriend around in that get-up?”

“Yeah, yeah…wait, what?”

Both Grif and Simmons turned red at the exact same time as Kai’s words sunk in, the tan girl grinning and sticking her tongue out.

“Goddamn it, Kai!” Grif couldn’t help but mutter as Simmons awkwardly thanked them for the clothes and moved to put them on further away.

“So,” Kai stated into the silence that had descended between the two siblings just then, “We’re leaving Rat’s Nest now?”

“Kai…” Grif began but trailed off, unsure of what exactly to say.  Rat’s Nest had been a horrible shithole home, but for so long it had been the only horrible shithole home that they had ever known.

His little sister stopped him by holding up a hand, “It’s cool, Dex.  I understand doing crazy things for love and hot sex, so we’re good.”

Okay, he wasn’t even sure how to begin responding to that.

“It just sucks since the apartment was finally paid off.” Kai sighed, looking surprisingly serious for her, “I mean, what are we going to do now?”

“Um…!”

They both turned at Simmons’ voice then, the alien standing there awkwardly in an orange shirt and brown shorts that were swimming on him.  Grif tried ignoring how good the Strassian looked in his clothes all the same.

“I—I think I can maybe help you with that.” Simmons told them, fidgeting under their joint gazes, “That is, if you can help get me to where my ship is docked.”

*****

Richard “Dick” Simmons was immensely grateful for the unexpected help he received from the Grif siblings.  The humans, having nothing to lose now thanks to Grif’s impulsive decision to help Simmons (something that Simmons would now be indebted to the chubby man for), were excellent guides through the interweaving side-alleys and streets of Rat’s Nest.

By staying off the main streets, they were able to avoid trouble and even made it back to the hangar where the transport from Chorus was in record time.  Unfortunately for them though, it appeared as if the gang that had captured Simmons before had decided to beat them to the punch.

The hangar had erupted with a hail of bullets as some of the more unsavory denizens of Rat’s Nest tried keeping the transport grounded.  Seeing it made Simmons’ heart leap into his throat.

“Captain Simmons!”

It was Jensen who first spotted the trio from where she was laying fire from behind some storage crates.  The tan skinned girl noticed them emerging from a side-alley nearby, the smile of relief on her face at seeing her mentor again a stark contrast to the dark reality that was currently unfolding around them.

“You’re okay!” Jensen said in relief, trotting over to hand Simmons a weapon before motioning towards where Washington and the others were busy holding off the hostiles in their armored ground transports.

“Thanks to these two.” He managed to get out, nodding towards the two Grif siblings as a form of introduction to the brunette just as Wash took notice of the group as well.

Wash strode over to them in the midst of the altercation as though it were nothing.  Given the sight, the redhead could certainly relate to Jensen’s relief in this particular moment, particularly since Simmons found himself immensely grateful for the steadying presence of his own Strassian mentor.

“Simmons!  We’re glad to see you’re all right.” Wash noted, indicating the battle raging on around them, “Since you’re here, maybe this calls for an exit strategy.  I suppose we’ve overstayed our welcome just a bit.”

“You think?” Grif muttered sarcastically under his breath, causing Simmons to shoot him a glare before turning to the other Strassian again.

“It’s good to be back, sir!” Simmons told the blond earnestly, “What—what can I do to help?”

Simmons pointedly ignored the “Kiss ass.” comment that he heard Grif mutter as Washington glanced from the fire fight going on to their ship.  Andersmith had already made his way inside, no doubt to get it prepared for flight now that Simmons was here.

“If you could go out in Maroon and keep them off our backs for takeoff, that would be perfect.”

It seemed as they had been talking that Jensen, Bitters, and Matthews had already moved to the lift—providing much needed cover fire as they did so.

Simmons nodded his head in understanding, ignoring the nervous pit in his stomach that came at the thought of piloting Maroon in an actual combat situation.  Of course, he had practiced with Tex on Chorus.  But, that was hardly the same thing as actual combat, especially since he knew the Veroni had held back to avoid smashing a perfectly good mech to pieces.

Washington turned to Kaikaina and Grif as well, “You two just get on board!” He ordered.

“Hey!  You can’t tell us what to do, cop.” Kai shouted defiantly even as Grif forcibly hauled her over to the open lift with Simmons quick to follow as Wash went to help the lieutenants.

While inside the ship, the fighting noise dimmed slightly but didn’t totally diminish.  The eerie noise was a strange backdrop to finding Maroon.  His mech was placed exactly where Simmons had left it in the docking station, though now the orange mech found right here on Rat’s Nest was sitting next to it.  Simmons supposed they would just have to find its pilot later, given how the situation had deteriorated.

Stepping over to Maroon, he touched the cockpit door and watched as the metal dissolved away as if it was nothing.  Before he could step inside, however, Grif grabbed his arm.  A look of stunned disbelief was on the human’s features.

“Hold up.  You’re a pilot?” Grif asked in awe, before something akin to alarm crossed over his face, “You’re going out there to fight?”

Simmons gulped nervously as he felt his nerves and anxiety building up again.  With great effort, he pulled his arm free of the human’s steadying grip, “I—I have to!” The lankier man said as steadily as his voice allowed, “I have to help my friends!”

For a moment, Grif looked stunned.  Then he opened his mouth to say something, but Simmons stopped him out of fear that his resolve would waver.  Instead, he practically shouted: “That—that includes you and Kai now too!”

The surprised look crossed over Grif’s features again, and Simmons took the opportunity to slip into the cockpit.  The last thing he saw before the metal came back and the cockpit’s machinery swirled to brilliant life all around him was Grif’s dark eyes regarding him with an expression he couldn’t quite identify.  Then he was off.

*****

He couldn’t believe it.  Grif couldn’t fucking believe it.  The skinny, lanky Strassian was a mech pilot.  It was so hard to wrap his head around!

Simmons was a mech pilot.  That awkward, pale-as-fuck nerd was going out there under heavy gunfire to buy this ship time to take off.  He was trying to help save them…  For some reason, the thought of the kiss ass doing that alone bugged the hell out of Grif, even though he knew he wasn’t really part of this world that he accidentally stumbled on.

He was so very desperate to just take a load off and not think of suicidal redheads or of space battles that he had inadvertently thrust himself and his sister into.  Maybe it would be for the best if he could chill and sleep for a solid eight to ten hour nap like he normally did to destress.  He could honestly fucking sleep anywhere and at any time.

That moment of apathetic contemplation was when Grif leaned back against what he thought would be a resting place, only for the solid metal against his back to disappear.  The chubby man swore as he fell into a space that was so tech-based it was probably some nerd’s dream room.

It took Grif’s brain a few more seconds to process that the thing he had been leaning on before was the orange mech he had only ever seen from a distance, and that what he was staring at now was its cockpit.

“What are you doing?” A harsh voice that the tan skinned man recognized but didn’t have a name associated with yet suddenly demanded from above his head.

When the human looked up, he found the older blond-haired Strassian from before in steel and yellow-trimmed armor glaring down at Grif as if the human had broken something really expensive.  Shit.  Maybe he had.

“I—I…!”

The Strassian sighed and pulled Grif up, pushing him into the one chair in the cockpit, “You’re here now, so you have a decision to make.” He told him quickly in a voice that held no room for arguments, “Are you going to help or not?”

Something inside Grif wanted to say “Yes.” despite his slacker reputation.  After all, Simmons was out there fighting.

“Good.” The man nodded his blue freckled head approvingly, “Then let the mech tell you what to do.”

Oddly enough, it did.  Panels began glowing, and each time Grif touched one a new action happened.  The cockpit resealed, and they were moving to the lift…

Just in time to see that the maroon-colored mech had drawn pretty much all of the fire attention on to itself.  Grif swallowed nervously at the sight, as a new panel lit up.

He hit it and bullets were suddenly careening into the armored transports that had surrounded the other mech.  That action on his mech’s part provided Simmons with enough time to pull away and start heading back, just as the ship lifted up into the air.

The blond Strassian with Grif swore and hit a panel that helped stabilize the balance of the mech so that Orange wouldn’t fall at the ship’s sudden movement.  On the monitor, Grif watched as Simmons’ machine flew towards them right before everything went black.

*****

When he came to, Grif was lying in an unfamiliar room of the transport.  Even though he was seeing everything in a drowsy haze, he was coherent enough to figure that it must have been a clinic of some sort due to all of the medical equipment lying around.

It made sense considering he felt like he was experiencing a massively shitty hangover at the moment.  Truthfully?  He was more surprised by the blue freckled face currently swimming in his vision.

“Grif!” Simmons sounded relieved, a smile plastered all over his features as he stared down at the human, “You’re awake!”

“What…happened?” The tan skinned man managed to groan out.

The last thing he remembered was falling into the orange mech’s cockpit and…  Shit.  Did he actually pilot a mech?  Grif sat up on the bed, Simmons grabbing his shoulder gently to help support him.

“The first time always drains you.” Simmons told him sympathetically.

“You’re telling me.” Grif groaned, “I feel like I could use twenty naps and a whole shitload of food to recharge.”

“Kai said you would say that,” Simmons smiled slightly, “And that you’d do it anyways.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” Grif grinned and then looked around for his sister, “Where is she, anyways?”

“Oh!” Simmons glanced at the door, “She thought it was boring letting you rest so the lieutenants are showing her around the ship.”

Grif sighed, glad to know that she was as all right as she could be following all of the chaos he had just gotten them involved in.  An awkward silence descended upon the clinic area as Simmons turned to stare at his hands.

The redhead opened his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something.  He always hesitated and stopped before actually uttering a sound, though Grif could take a guess as to what topic was on the socially awkward alien’s mind.

“So,” the human began conversationally, “Guess I’m a pilot now too, huh?”

There was a quick glance his way from Simmons, who also nodded his head in confirmation, “Any idea what you want to do now?” he asked quietly.

Going back to Rat’s Nest had been out of the question ever since he chose to help the nerd sitting next to him.  Not that there had really been much of a future there for him or Kai anyways.

However, being a pilot now certainly presented him with some opportunities that he hadn’t quite dreamed of before.  Grif looked at Simmons and grinned.

“I guess I might as well stick with you guys, so long as Kai can too.”

“Of course!” Simmons looked downright relieved at Grif’s decision, his smile a welcoming one, “We’d love to have you both on Chorus.”

“Good.” Grif couldn’t help but add, “You’ll personally help show me the ropes, right?”

There were definitely a few perks to being a pilot that Grif planned on taking full advantage of, especially if it meant being able to stay close to a certain alien.

“It’s a promise.” Simmons, not quite getting the hidden meaning of Grif’s question, just seemed thrilled at the prospect of the chubbier man deciding to stay on with them.

Grif couldn’t help but smile lazily as he said: “I think this is going to be the start of a singularly beneficial relationship.”

*****

David Washington watched Grif and Simmons talking to one another through the clinic window, smiling slightly to himself and letting out a sigh of relief.  Despite the bumpy start, it seemed as if the mission had ended up being a success after all.

Not only had they secured Orange, but miraculously they had found its pilot as well at the last possible second.  That was a win-win, in his book.

He was about to go check on the lieutenants and their other Grif guest when a comm-signal flared to life on the wall next to him.  He hit it, not at all surprised to see Carolina’s face come into view.

“Hey, boss.” He said in way of greeting, nodding his head slightly as he reported on their progress, “We found our first pilot and are on our way to the final mech location now.”

“Excellent.  We just found our third.” Carolina informed him, wasting no time with getting down to business either, “We’ll meet you there.”

With that, the transmission ended.  Wash stood there for a few moments, trying to fight the sudden urge he had to bang his head against something.