Shiny Things

Biff impatiently waited for the drop transport to land by the colony of Desert Gulch. His whole body practically quivered with anticipation, so much so that it was visible even through the layers of orange armor he wore.

His best friend since for who-knew-how-long, Mark Temple, watched Biff out of the corner of his eye, clearly amused, “Relax, Biff,” Temple advised and, yeah, there was a definite smirk in his voice as he spoke, “Everyone’s fucking distracted right now, but Surge will certainly pick up on it if you start jumping around like a little kid.”

True. Even his oblivious commanding officer wasn’t that oblivious. Biff tried to rein himself in, though it proved difficult, “I know, Mark, but I can’t help it.” He exclaimed excitedly all the same, “We only get to visit Desert Gulch every two months and I’m dying for the chance to see Georgina again!”

“Oh.”

Temple didn’t even bother to hide the disappointment in his voice and it was then that Biff remembered that Temple wasn’t fond of his colonial girlfriend or his relationship with her. Not like Biff paid much attention to the criticism. He was a grown man who could see whoever he fucking wanted, after all, and it wasn’t like the cobalt-wearing Arenian had ever tried to actively sabotage their relationship. No, passive aggressive comments and eye-rolling were Temple’s weapons of choice in that regard, and those were easily ignored by someone blissfully in love and who didn’t give a shit what other people thought about it.

Biff let the moment slide in the same carefree way he always did when Temple was being weirdly intense. He grinned and slung his arm over Temple’s shoulders in a comradely fashion, “Think you can buy me some time to slip away from Surge and the others during this supply run?”

Temple tensed for a moment in light of the physical contact but nodded all the same, no doubt rolling his eyes under his blue-tinged visor (typical Temple), “Yeah, yeah. Just hold your horses.”

“Nah,” Biff made a face at the remark and shrugged, “I’ve seen vid feeds of those animals from Earth and I think I’d just let the reins go. Thanks but no thanks.”

Temple chuckled, “Earth does have some weird-ass animals, huh?”

“No wonder our ancestors only brought the truly delicious ones with them when they boarded the Arc Ships.” Biff joked right alongside him.

“True.” Temple’s good humor was quickly returning in light of their interaction, which was great for Biff as a sulky Temple was no fun at all, especially if he was stuck talking with him for hours on end, “Have you ever seen a platypus? Talk about fucking weird.”

True to his word, when the ship landed close by the colony grounds, Temple managed to distract Surge long enough for the red-armored Arenian’s most reluctant subordinate to make a quick getaway from inventorying. Biff’s feet hurried towards the direction of the residential housing district where he knew Georgina would be waiting for him.

“Hey, Biff.”

Before the orange-armored soldier reached his intended destination, however, a young-sounding voice greeted him. The older man stopped in his tracks and turned towards the source as Antoine Bitters, one of his girlfriend’s neighbors, came into view.

“Little man,” Biff grinned and gave a friendly wave in the dark-haired youth’s direction, “What’s up?”

He figured Georgina wouldn’t kill him for being just a little late, and Biff sort-of lived for small talk since it reeked of domestic normalcy.

The gangly twelve-year-old shrugged his shoulders rather indifferently, “Not much.” Bitters frowned slightly before admitting, “My folks keep talking about moving to an independent world soon.”

If it were true, it didn’t really shock Biff. Rumors had been circulating like wildfire about a crazy human extremist group called Charon attacking out of the way, alien-controlled colony worlds exactly like Desert Gulch. It was bound to make quite a few people nervous, especially civilian colonists who didn’t have weapons training.

“I can understand, though it’s a bummer.” He told Bitters in response, “I know you’re a decent kid, and Loco loves making toys when we visit here.”

The dark-skinned youth pouted, “I’m not some fucking kid!” Bitters protested.

Biff laughed and rubbed the top of his head, “Sure, whatever you say.”

Bitters made a face at the motion and jumped indignantly away, his earlier troubled thoughts about potentially moving forgotten. Biff’s grin widened at the sight: mission accomplished.

“Biff?”

Another, achingly familiar voice greeted his ears then and Biff turned his beaming smile over towards Georgina, though his good mood fell completely when he saw the uncharacteristically serious look on the normally fun-loving woman’s face.

“We need to talk.” Was all she said, and he knew this was going to be a big conversation.

“Uh-oh.” Bitters muttered from nearby, the child promptly excusing himself from the scene. Coward.

Biff was strangely silent the entire journey back to the Arc Ship. Temple finally had enough of the lack of noise and pulled him away from the others as soon as they had boarded the massive vessel, moving to its next destination within minutes of the door shutting close.

“All right, I’ll bite. What is going on with you?” Biff’s friend asked, raising an eyebrow as he jokingly (only slightly hopefully) asked, “Did Georgina dump you or something?”

Biff let out an exasperated sigh at Temple’s guess, scrunching up his face in a way that no doubt made him look slightly constipated, “Not even close.” He admitted before looking around to make sure that no one else was within earshot before dropping his voice even lower, “I want out of the service.”

Temple blinked and stood there for a few moments before his best friend’s words seemed to register. He had a slightly rushed, almost panicked tone to his voice as he asked, “Why this, all of a sudden?”

Biff looked out at the quickly vanishing planet down below, “You know this wasn’t what we really signed up to be doing, running all these errands for the colony worlds.” He told Temple, “And the Charon attacks aren’t exactly helping matters.” He sighed and braced himself before declaring, “I want to be safe. I want to stay on Desert Gulch with Georgina.”

Temple’s response was as sullen as Biff thought it would be, “Seems like an awfully large commitment to make for someone you’ve only been dating for six months.” He sourly noted, “Even less than that if you count up all the separations.”

Biff felt a small flare of anger at Temple’s bitterness, “Dude, she’s pregnant.”

Temple stared at him blankly, and he could just picture the question that he hadn’t yet voiced (thank fuck for small favors).

“Yes,” Biff said bluntly and with a roll of his eyes for good measure, “It’s mine and she’s exactly two months into her term.”

Temple looked as though something extremely painful had been lodged into his chest, but when Biff reached over to touch the black-haired man’s shoulder comradely and asked, “Help me get discharged?” …He reluctantly nodded his head anyways.

Word of the battle taking place over Desert Gulch between Charon and Freelancer reached them less than a month later, before Biff and Temple could finalize their plans to get the orange-wearing Arenian properly discharged.

“I can’t…I can’t believe they’re fighting in the atmosphere!” Cronut all but wailed as the transport hurried to the planet’s surface from the far too slow-moving Arc Ship.

“Let’s look alive, people!” Surge interrupted the younger man’s exclamations before anyone else could join in, “Our number one priority here is to help with the evacuation before we can retaliate! …Unfortunately.”

Not that their more defense-oriented Arc Ship could do much against fucking mechs or battle transports, Temple thought darkly. He had a feeling Surge would have tried fighting barehanded if he’d been ordered to. Beside him, Biff remained tensely quiet and stiff. It made Temple even more on edge than he was already.

They made landfall at the colony’s designated evacuation and shelter zone, promptly getting to work ushering the panicked residents into the waiting transports. It was all going quickly and according to plan until stupid Gene had to go and open his fucking mouth.

“Um,” the nervous, maroon-wearing man was looking down at a datapad as another transport left for the Arc Ship, “It seems like Housing District 15 hasn’t been fully cleared yet.”

The sound of a heavy crate being dropped had Temple turning in Biff’s direction, his heart pounding even louder in his ears at the stricken look that suddenly crossed his friend’s face. Why the asshole wasn’t wearing his helmet was beyond him.

“That’s where Georgina lives!” Biff exclaimed, suddenly racing in that direction, apparently oblivious to the explosions and guns blaring overhead.

“Biff, stop!” Temple ran after him.

A half-burnt mech crashed into the ground just a scant few meters away from Temple, blocking his view of Biff temporarily and knocking him to the ground from the force of the crash. There was a loud humming in the air as a one-man hover transport leaned in to assess the damage to the mech, a cyan-armored female looking down at the unmoving hostile rather dispassionately.

…She was no doubt a Freelancer, as otherwise an Arenian such as Temple would have been killed on the spot.

“Hey!” A small glimmer of hope rose in his chest as he shakily got to his feet and called out to her, “There are people still back there!” Temple felt a surge of panic threatening to overtake him yet again as he added, “My friend, he’s—!”

“It’s your job to make sure that everyone properly evacuated.” The Freelancer didn’t even spare him a glance as she turned her craft around, “We have our own to do.”

…She was fucking leaving!

“Wait!” He shouted again, just before a row of explosions enveloped the nearby Housing District 15. Temple was thrown back even further this time, yelling out Biff’s name as his consciousness faded.

When he came to much later, it was to a deafening ringing in his ears and blood pouring down his no longer helmeted face.

The world felt like it was over.

Georgina was declared brain dead when they brought her body back to the Arc Ship, but her body was in cryo for the moment to keep her baby alive.

Biff wasn’t alive though, and Temple was positive he would never forgive Georgina for that. Or that fucking Freelancer either. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be very forgiving towards too many people ever again.

Even though a large part of him hated the idea, Temple was going to try to save Biff Junior as Biff had jokingly called it, so that there was at least something still partially Biff out there in the universe. One selfish yet still somewhat positive thing to help offset all of the terrible he knew he was going to do in order to get revenge.

Temple turned away from glaring at the cryo pod, putting his new cobalt helmet on as he turned to face his assembled, solemn and angry crew, “We have a lot to do.” He stated without preamble, “Let’s get fucking started.”

Gene let out a weary sigh, once again wondering why he’d been stuck with this particular assignment.

He knew that collecting research data on pheromone usage was vitally important if they wanted to be able to pilot the stolen Freelancer and Charon mechs without much difficulty, but in order to acquire said data, he had to be on an icy planet in the middle of nowhere and away from the goings-on of his teammates. It majorly sucked.

But, Gene tried reminding himself, his spy work was important and, as Surge and Cronut had both put it, no one else would be able to act so “endearingly sycophantic” to other aliens like he could. The Arenian decided to try and view that as a compliment. Besides, Temple had also tasked him with another important mission here.

After all, this remote research facility held several captive Strassians, and a Strassian would make for a perfect surrogate. He just had to pick the right one…

“That concludes the tour of the public uses for this particular facility.” The head doctor was saying on the opposite side of the room, “Now, we should stop by the examination room…”

The doctor had been giving a “tour” of the more benign sides of the area to a young red-haired Strassian, who seemed nervous just to be there, and his father (who had, unknowingly to his son, toured all of the facility already numerous times). Gene had seen the Strassian doctor go through this routine before to lull unsuspecting “guests” of the research facility into being trusting.

Gene almost felt bad for the redhead in light of the betrayal that was coming up, but…

…There was something about the younger man that caught his attention, made him think that he might be the perfect fit for Temple’s side-project. It would certainly be a better fate than being trapped here and bred indefinitely as his father and the doctor had planned for him.

He would really be doing the Strassian a favor.

“You’ll be much better off on the Arc Ship. You’ll see.”

Gene told him as much just a few months following Simmons’ stay on the icy planet after his father had abandoned his now helpless offspring to the head doctor’s care. The Strassian in question had just left the room following a feeding, and Gene had been assigned to clean Simmons up.

Afterwards, he sat on the bed and pulled the unresisting Simmons into his lap as he often did when given the opportunity. Gene ignored the slight shudder from the redhead’s form, stroking a finger along the Strassian’s temple, “We’ll be leaving soon, I promise.” He whispered to Simmons conspiratorially.

Simmons’ green eyes were wide with terror, but Gene was sure that in due time he’d come to understand that this was all for the best.

Temple would like his choice too, he thought. Another who had been betrayed by life, just like the Blues and Reds.

It was only a day later that the former Freelancer (must they fuck up everything?) named Agent Washington infiltrated and liberated the facility’s prisoners, including Simmons. Gene had to contend himself with putting bullets through the researchers’ heads and stealing their data and research samples.

He’d have to find another specimen. He was sure that Temple would appreciate his being so thorough.

Rat’s Nest was a hole-in-the-wall type of colony with a perfectly apt name for a place that stank mostly of humans. Temple hated it the very moment they landed there. But the shitty colony had supplies they needed, and he wasn’t about to go and attack any world with a sizable Arenian population if he could avoid doing so, which left him with very few travel options.

Besides, it wasn’t like they would be asking nicely for said supplies.

The Blues and Reds left Loco on the ship and went to work finding the gangs who ran the colony’s sectors. Temple played suave until he realized that the ruse wasn’t really necessary, and he and the others simply “helped” push the already hostile groups into yet another turf war. Places like Rat’s Nest were way too fucking simple. They would be set to gather whatever they needed in the ensuing chaos, and the tried and true strategy proved as good as usual on this desert planet too.

As for anyone who got in the way of their helping themselves, who resisted? He shot, it didn’t matter who they were. Lives had to be sacrificed on the path towards justice. It just added to the count already in play.

“No!”

A little girl was trying to grip onto a medical kit that he’d been in the process of claiming and, while Temple saw the threadbare state of her yellow clothing and figured she was only doing so because she probably had need for it, he didn’t have the time or patience for her antics. He raised his gun, aiming it and squeezing the trigger even after her brown eyes widened and she let go, staggering back a few steps. He couldn’t afford to leave any potential risks.

“Kai!” Someone yelled, and then Temple saw the unarmored individual who was trying to tackle him while he was in full combat gear with what appeared to be just a fucking dinner knife in their hand.

Temple growled in frustration and shoved the orange-clad figure to the ground right in front of the now terrified little girl. He was an older teen who looked related to her by all accounts. Two bodies instead of one then. At least they would die together. Some people didn’t even get that opportunity.

“P—please, mister!”

He was about to pull the trigger as the girl tearfully begged with her arms wrapped around the downed boy’s shoulders as if trying to pull his far too heavy frame backwards to some sort of impossibly safe distance. The teen remained still though, staring up at him wide-eyed but defiant.

Temple froze because, for a split-second, it was a teenaged Biff he was staring down at instead of a filthy human.

“Temple! We gotta go, man!”

Temple tsked and turned to depart as Buckey called for him, annoyed and upset that a mere thrown-away human could ever remind him of Biff.

…Could make him hesitate. Arenians didn’t fucking hesitate. Ever.

Temple did not hesitate when they took over the Elvari colony of Iris, filled with the people that the long-eared aliens were most ashamed of: those unfortunates of their ilk born with pointy ears but lacking the telepathic and empathic abilities of most of their population.

It was just further proof that all species were assholes to even their own, but it wasn’t as though they’d traveled to this backwater world with any notion of liberating these people even if he was hesitant to kill them all at the moment. Truth be told, everyone being dead wouldn’t exactly help them further their plans here. He saw more potential in them alive than dead. For now, at least.

An example to get the rest to fall in line? That would do nicely. An older man, serious and weathered by the elements and the harsh circumstances of his life, just so happened to kindly volunteer. He’d dragged a young girl off to the side when the Blues and Reds had entered the town, before stepping in front of her and the other cautious residents as if to shield all of them.

“What do you want?” The old Elvari inquired in a grave voice, “Can we never just be left in peace?”

“Sorry, but no one is going anywhere right now.” Temple informed him, “You’re going to stay here and keep on doing what your own damn people abandoned you on this rock to do.”

There were mutterings from the colonists, hushed and worried. The old man glanced behind him before turning to speak to Temple yet again, “What we’ve been doing here is a very serious crime.” He noted plainly.

“I’m aware,” Temple reassured him in a voice that carried to the other colonists, “But what we’re about is even worse.”

At a quick hand signal, Surge stepped forward and raised his weapon, the older Elvari colonist essentially exploding in a mess of flesh and bone upon impact.

“Muggins!” The little girl, now covered in blood and gristle, exclaimed. She looked partially Strassian as well as Elvari given the blue-tinted freckles dotting her cheeks.

No one else stepped forward or said anything. Lorenzo wordlessly turned on a nearby hose and the shaking girl gaped as the gory remains of her potential caretaker (maybe? Temple didn’t really care what their relationship had been) was being wiped and scraped from existence.

She didn’t do anything else though, and that shocked inaction was what saved her as Loco pulled her back towards the rest of the terrified crowd and did his best to try to distract her from the horrific sight. Loco was too fucking nice for his own good.

“What now?” Surge asked, completely indifferent to the violent scene he just helped create.

Temple took off his once again blood-smeared helmet, reminding himself to have Surge use a different weapon next time if he was going to be shooting someone so close by him, “Now, we begin in earnest.” He said to the reflection in the gory visor.