Shiny Things

“No, not there. I meant there.” Four Seven Niner’s voice cut through the air like a knife as the tan-skinned woman jabbed her finger towards the left hand corner of the air transport’s cargo bay expectantly, “Obviously.”

Matthews, anxious about the possibility of upsetting someone who held a higher rank, glanced over at John Elizabeth Andersmith for reassurance only to smile a little at the dark oil smudge that graced the older lieutenant’s forehead.

They had been helping with inventory for a few hours now and it seemed that, in the moment that the Arenian pilot had addressed her two helpers, Andersmith had wiped sweat from his brow.  Matthews at least felt some of his stress drain by being momentarily amused by the evidence of their hard work on the dark-haired Arenian’s person.

“Of course.” Andersmith stated without preamble to the pilot, looking towards Matthews seriously as his hands regripped his side of the crate, “Ready?”

Matthews’ own grip tightened and he nodded, “Of course, sir!”

Andersmith smiled fondly, “No need for formalities, Matthews.” He told him, “We’re the same rank, after all.”

The Elvari couldn’t help but blush at his habit towards seeing anyone older than him as a figure of authority, “R—right!”

Within moments, the two lieutenants had moved the crate to its new specified location.  Four Seven Niner examined their work with a perfunctory nod, “Much better this way.” She said more to herself than to either of them before adding loudly, “Thanks, you two.”

“Not a problem, ma’am!” Matthews couldn’t help but salute in what was obviously a force of habit by this point.

“It was our pleasure.” Andersmith stated before glancing around them questioningly, “Now, did you need assistance with anything else, or…?”

“Nah, that should do it for now.” Four Seven Niner informed them, glancing again at a datapad that she was using to keep track of inventory.

Matthews, though he was more than happy to lend a helping hand where he could, couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.  After all, they had been here for the better part of the day.  He didn’t know about Andersmith, but Matthews felt like he could use some rest.  Possibly a shower too.

Four Seven Niner shot the younger man an amused look, “I could always think of something else, you know.”

“Err…” Beneath his glasses, Matthews’ face turned a bright shade of red.

The brunette smirked, “Relax, kid.  That was a joke.”

The auburn-haired lieutenant deflated a little although he was still blushing in embarrassment, “I—I got that.” He mumbled before laughing awkwardly.

“Sure you did.” Her smirk only widened as Four Seven Niner’s brown-eyed gaze went down the open ramp of the transport to the spot in the hangar where the Chorus mechs were usually located.  Those spots were all empty now, thanks to the Trocadero mission.

“I hope Caboose is doing all right.” The tan-skinned woman mumbled under her breath, obviously not intending for it to carry in the hangar.

Ah, so she was worried about her surrogate brother.  That explained some of the unease Matthews had been feeling from the pilot while they had been working on the transport.  The Elvari had known that the two Arenians had become as close as real family in the short time that Caboose had been on Chorus.  He guessed it was a cultural thing, similar to the mentorships in Strassian society.

Thinking of Strassians, Matthews glanced over towards the empty spots where Orange and Maroon usually were, wondering if Captains Grif and Simmons were okay too.  In the short time that he had known them, Matthews had found himself doing a lot of chores for the two pilots.  Well, mostly for Grif.  Simmons usually berated the human for taking advantage of a subordinate, but Matthews didn’t mind helping superior officers.  He felt his eyes tear up at the idea that he was useful to the two at all.

“I am sure he is doing well!” Andersmith stated reassuringly to Four Seven Niner, pulling Matthews out of his thoughts, “Captain Caboose is a top-notch pilot, and Freckles is the best mech of our group.  Not to mention that the others are with him too.”

Matthews couldn’t help but smile and nod in agreement.  Leave it to Andersmith to know exactly what to say, especially when it concerned Caboose.

Four Seven Niner straightened her posture a bit, “I know, It’s just strange to not be flying everyone myself.”

Right.  Trocadero was close enough that they hadn’t needed the transport this time around.  Matthews imagined being grounded during missions was a foreign experience for the pilot.

The tan-skinned woman sighed and shook her head, “At any rate, that’s it for now.” She informed them, dismissively waving her hand, “Why don’t you guys go take a break or something?  I’ll finish up here.”

With that, Four Seven Niner headed towards the cockpit area, leaving the two males standing there awkwardly with nothing to do.  The yellow-trimmed armored lieutenant’s stomach broke the silence with a loud growl.  Matthews felt his face flush in embarrassment at the realization that he had forgotten to eat all day.

Thankfully, Andersmith turned to Matthews with his usual gentle smile, “Want to head to the mess hall?”

Matthews couldn’t help but smile back and nod in response, “Yes, sir!”

*****

The walk to the mess hall was rather uneventful, so both Matthews and Andersmith were able to get their much needed food in peace.  By the time the two lieutenants made their way over to their usual table, they discovered that five other members of their rookie group were already occupying it.  Volleyball, Kaikaina Grif, Katie Jensen, and Charles Palomo all waved them over

It took Matthews a moment to realize that the fifth person seated there now, regarding their approach with curiosity, was not Antoine Bitters.  Matthews was surprised at the little bit of disappointment he felt at the realization, although he quickly shook his bespectacled head to rid himself of the emotion.  The human stranger deserved a nice welcome even if he wasn’t Bitters.

The dark-haired man smiled in way of greeting as Jensen spoke up to make introductions, “Guys, this is Lieutenant Zachary Miller.” She stated in friendly enthusiasm, “Miller, these are Lieutenants Matthews and Andersmith.”

“Ah, you must be the new recruit I’d heard about!” Andersmith said jovially to Miller as he and Matthews sat down, “It’s nice to finally meet.”

“Likewise.” Miller smiled back easily enough in a gesture clearly meant to put them at ease.

Following the introduction, the conversation at the mess hall table drifted back to the usual topics.  Every so often as he was eating his food though, Matthews felt eyes upon him.  He glanced up and Miller would smile slightly before turning his attention back to whoever was currently talking.

Matthews felt his face redden.  It was a little unnerving, to say the least.  He wasn’t used to being scrutinized unless it was by someone of a higher rank.  The Elvari wasn’t quite sure what to make of the attention.

Eventually, everyone’s meals were finished and they all stood to put their trays away, but Miller reached out and grabbed Matthews’ arm before he could do so himself.

“Matthews, right?” The steel-armored newcomer asked in a friendly tone.

Matthews nodded his head, face heating up at the sudden physical contact as his eyes wandered towards the hand on his arm.  Now that Miller had his attention, he dropped Matthews’ arm but lingered closely in proximity.

“I was hoping that maybe you’d be willing to show me around, if you have the time?” The human recruit asked hopefully, eyes set upon Matthews.

Before Matthews could respond, a food tray slammed down heavily onto the table behind him.  The loud sound caused the Elvari to jump.  He felt a familiar, angry presence nearby and a familiar orange-trimmed armor out of the corner of his eye.

Matthews glanced towards the armor to find Bitters standing next to him.  The Arenian with multi-colored hair was fixing Miller with a pointed glare.

“Unfortunately for you, Matthews already has plans to do something with me.” Bitters stated without preamble to the human, “But Andersmith loves giving tours.”

Matthews blinked in surprise, shocked that Bitters even remembered their plans, let alone that the dark-skinned lieutenant now seemed to want to go with him.  Bitters and Miller stared at one another for an uncomfortable moment before that same easy smile crossed over the brown-haired human’s face once more.

“Is that so?” Miller glanced over at Matthews, winking, “Guess I’ll take a rain check then.”

Bitters’ glare only intensified at the new recruit’s actions, “Guess so.”

With a wave, Miller walked away to rejoin the other lieutenants, leaving Matthews standing by the mess hall table with his angry-for-no-reason-that-he-could-see friend.  “Wh—what was that for?” He finally demanded when Bitters sat down at the table.

Bitters said nothing in response.  Instead, the Arenian ate his food as if the incident with Miller had never even happened.  Matthews sighed before grabbing his tray in order to put it away, the Elvari unsure of where this sudden feeling of anger was coming from.

*****

Even as the door to the his temporary living quarters on Trocadero closed behind him, Lavernius Tucker could still hear the faint noise of Michael J. Caboose talking excitedly about “sleepovers” and “How much fun we are going to have!”

The teal-armored mech pilot couldn’t help but smile and shake his head, rather glad that he wasn’t Sarge or Lopez since they would be bunking with the younger Arenian tonight.  Truth be told, it wasn’t like his roommate situation was much better currently.

After all, he knew that David Washington could have a stick up his ass at the best of times.  Right now, given whatever the fuck that “reunion” was with that Price guy?  Well, that certainly didn’t count as “the best” of anything.

Speaking of his roomie, Tucker cast a glance at his own bunkmate.  The blond-haired Strassian was currently sitting on his bed and staring at the wall with a hardened expression, almost as if the wall had murdered his entire family.  The dark-skinned man couldn’t help but let out a tired sigh that went completely unnoticed.

So, it was obviously up to Tucker to either do something, or let Washington continue to mope.  …A skill that Tucker already knew Washington excelled at.

The half-Strassian let out a tired sigh yet again, trying to be as dramatic as possible in order to gain the older man’s attention.  Of course, given how fucking stubborn and stuck in his own head Washington was, it didn’t work.

“Hey, dude, do you mind if I ask you something?” Tucker asked after a few minutes of contemplation.

Washington blinked gray eyes, turning his attention away from the wall to regard the dark-skinned man questioningly: “If it’s about the clothing policy I mentioned before—yes, they are mandatory in this sleeping arrangement.”

Of course he’d assume that Tucker would complain about that.  Again.  Fucking killjoy.

Tucker rolled his eyes, “Fuck you, and it wasn’t going to be about that.”

“It wasn’t?” Here, Washington seemed rather surprised, a blond eyebrow raised in question, “That’s surprisingly out of character.”

Tucker gave him the finger, “No, it’s about that Price guy.  And, again, fuck you, dude.”

“Oh.” Washington’s expression fell from mildly amused to downtrodden in a matter of seconds, and it almost seemed as if his blue Strassian freckles dulled for a second.

Given the blond’s reaction, Tucker was even more curious.  “It was obvious that all of you knew him already.” He started without preamble, “From that Freelancer program or whatever?”

Washington frowned, but nodded his head briefly, “That’s right.” He stated, cautiously, as if he was hesitant to reveal too much.

Tucker picked up on the sudden tension and his contemplative frown deepened, “I don’t know a lot about what happened then, but I take it that it was pretty fucked up?”

The Strassian sighed, “That’s one way to put it, yes.”

Damn.  This dude could keep secrets.  Tucker knew given Washington’s body language that now wasn’t a good time to pry further.  Instead, he simply waited for the other man to continue.

Washington let out a deep breath, “Freelancer is…was a complicated subject, Tucker.” He told him at length, “And Price happened to play a large role in it.”

There was a lot to the story that Tucker knew Washington probably wasn’t going to tell him.  He didn’t want to be the pushy asshole who tried forcing uncomfortable or painful shit to the surface.  So, Tucker instead forced an understanding smile onto his own face, “I bet it fucking sucked seeing him again, huh?”

Washington nodded in quiet agreement, a tired sort-of smile crossing over his face at Tucker’s comment.  An awkward silence settled over the room.  Tucker was debating on how to break it when, suddenly, Washington stood up and headed towards the door.

“I think I’ll go patrol the ruins just to get a lay of the land.” The former Freelancer remarked, “Maybe find some more clues as to what exactly Charon is after here.”

Tucker blinked, “Dude, don’t you ever rest?”

“Tucker…”

Tucker cut off whatever chastisement Washington was no doubt about to say in regards to his own work ethic with a wave of his hand. “I should probably contact Junior before it gets too late.” He said, “Let him know we got here okay and shit.”  After all, the half-human knew his son worried when he was away on missions.  He glanced over at Washington with a grin, “I’ll be sure to let him know that you say hello too.”

Washington smiled gratefully before he left the room.

*****

“That is where things currently stand on our end.” Carolina said as she concluded her report to Chorus, staring at the message terminal in front of her.

Vanessa Kimball nodded, a contemplative look on her face as she regarded the cyan-armored woman, “And how are you handling Price’s involvement?”

Of course the Chorus leader would ask.  After all, Kimball knew a bit about Project Freelancer from some of her conversations with Carolina and the others.  Naturally, that had included a fair bit of information on Aiden Price too.

Carolina sighed, “It is unnerving, seeing him again.” She admitted to the Elvari, “But I suppose we will have to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment.”

After all, he had been right in saying that they had all been used by Project Freelancer.  The half-Veroni narrowed her green eyes in contemplation.  She would just have remain more cautious around him in general.

“Not that you aren’t always cautious.  Right, sis?” She could actually hear her brother Church mock her in her head.

Carolina shook her red-haired head in an attempt to focus on the conversation at hand, leaning back in her chair.

“I’d stay on alert, at any rate.” Kimball advised with an amused look in her dark-colored eyes, “Not that I really need to tell you of all people to do that.”

“Agreed.” Carolina smiled thinly, “How are things on Chorus?”

“They are going rather well, all things considered.”

“I hope Church isn’t being too much of a handful.” She couldn’t help but joke, imagining her brother going off on one of his ranting tirades while she was away.

The dark-skinned woman smirked, “If you can handle him, I can.”

“Want to place a bet on that?” Carolina smirked right back at her.

Kimball looked ready to respond with another joking retort when Carolina heard the sound of rustling movement behind her.

“Kimball, I have to get going.” She informed the other woman, “I will message you again as scheduled.”

A brief flicker of disappointment crossed over Kimball’s face, but she nodded her head a second later, “Understood.  Be careful, Carolina.”

Carolina nodded and closed out the screen, eyes narrowing as she tensed with the recognizable presence in the room.  How the fuck was this even possible?  He should be dead!

“…Agent Carolina.”

She stiffened as the all-too familiar voice of the Director addressed her.  The redhead spun around to meet a piercing, indifferent gaze.

“What are you doing, wasting your time here?” He demanded, as professional and cold to her as ever.

Carolina’s throat was dry, and she found couldn’t speak.  What the hell was going on?

“Funny.  Here I was wondering the same thing.”

Turning around again, the former Freelancer saw York resting with his arms across his chest against the message terminal that she had just turned off.  His one good eye was glued on her and she couldn’t look away from his stare.

“Hey, Carolina.”

Carolina wasn’t sure what to think or do at this point.  Often she found herself haunted by ghosts of the past, but they didn’t usually feel so real.  She blinked and suddenly York was gone.

“…Are you all right?”

Carolina started at Sheila’s worried voice, turning to find the petite Veroni woman standing in the doorway of their shared room.  All traces of the Director had vanished from their quarters as well.

The half-human shook her head, “I’m…I’m fine.” She assured Sheila, “I think I just need some air.”

With that, Carolina quickly moved past Sheila, not daring to even take a quick glance back into the room as she left it.  Ghosts were better left unseen.

*****

“I mean, everyone knows what you mean by scented bath salts, you know?” Franklin Delano Donut said emphatically to his teammates over his now empty tray of food.

Frank “Doc” DuFresne nodded his brown-haired head enthusiastically in response to the pink-wearing Elvari, “Of course!”

Dexter Grif raised a dark-haired eyebrow at the topic of conversation that he was currently being exposed to while sitting in the mess hall of their temporary living quarters on Trocadero, though he figured that by staying silent he could maybe avoid getting dragged into it a little longer.

First, the two Elvari had been discussing room décor, and somehow the talk had turned inexplicably to bath salts?  Grif really wasn’t sure what logic that followed.  Then again, with Donut and Doc there wasn’t much logic to begin with.

Donut turned the orange-armored mech pilot’s way just then with a thoughtful look in his brown eyes.  Coming from Pink’s pilot, that glance could only mean trouble.

Fortunately for the heavy-set human, that particular moment was when Washington strode into the mess hall.  He spotted the group easily given that they were the only people there.  Washington walked over to the table the trio were sitting at with an air of purpose that Grif had learned to ignore by this point.

“I’m going to go and investigate some of the ruins.” The blond Strassian stated without preamble, “Any volunteers?”

And here was the point of discussion that Grif had learned to tune out.  Don’t say anything and hopefully your apathetic laziness will pay off.  Grif kept his head lowered as both Doc and Donut stood up from their seats excitedly.

“Oh, oh!  I’d love to go!” Donut exclaimed to the former Freelancer, waving his arms as if the older man had somehow missed him in his bright pink armor.

“A chance to explore some ancient Elvari ruins sounds exciting!” Doc added in, nodding his head as if he was agreeing to attend a party instead of going on a boring and possibly dangerous mission.

“Yeah, and we’ll show those Charon guys the best way to get head!” Donut joyfully said in a singsong tone.

“…You mean “ahead,” right?” Doc asked Donut a second later.

“Sure, that too!” Donut smiled and gestured towards the door, “So, lead the way, Agent Washington!  I’ll take the rear!”

As the two Elvari eagerly put away their food trays, Washington had a look on his face that clearly showed his dawning realization about what a terrible mistake he had just made.

Grif could only smirk in response, shooting the former Freelancer a “too late” look, “Sucks to be you, dude.”

The chubby human ate happily as Doc and Donut followed Washington outside, ignoring the fading talks of “adventure” and “mission.”

Grif’s thoughts briefly went back to Chorus.  He wondered what kind of trouble Kai was getting herself into there when Richard “Dick” Simmons entered the mess hall and took a seat across from him.

Grif figured that something was up since Simmons didn’t make any “fat-ass” remarks about him having two trays piled high with food on them, and the looming pained expression on Simmons’ face when he glanced up a second later confirmed that.

Grif covered up the momentary frown that found its way across his own features just then at the sight, smirking instead, “Something bothering you, Simmons?  Was your tool kit messed up?”

Simmons shook his head, “No, I think I’m just tired or something.” He admitted a few seconds later, “I kept thinking I was hearing things.”

Grif couldn’t help but shake his head in a chastising manner at the redhead’s remark, “What have I told you about the importance of rest, Simmons?” He joked only partially before pushing the other tray (that he may have been saving for the nerd, okay?) towards the Strassian, “And food too, for that matter.”  When Simmons looked up at Grif questioningly, his smirk only widened, “Trust me, a full stomach and a good nap will do you wonders.”

Simmons frowned at the suggestion, “B—but…!”

“If it makes you feel better, we’ll go check on the mechs before resting.  But only after we finish eating.” Grif stipulated.

Simmons looked to be so touched by the concern that Grif feared he would make the whole thing awkward, but fortunately he simply smiled through teary green-colored eyes.

The pilot of Maroon then began shoveling food into his mouth to cover up his tearing eyes, missing the fond smile that ended up crossing over Grif’s features at the sight before the human dug back into his third plate of food.