Chapter Text
Locus stared at the screen that displayed the distress call. He couldn’t believe his ears. The person on the other side of the distress call was Agent Washington. He was agitated, fearful even.
…are my coordinates. Please, someone, anyone, please help. Oh, no. No. NO.
It sounded like a door was forced open, followed by screams of pure terror from Wash.
Locus took a deep breath as he entered the coordinates into the navigation system.
This day was not going well.
It was easy enough for Locus to get close to the large ship. He had powered down his engines and drifted among the asteroid field before connecting to an emergency hatch. The enemy ship wouldn’t have picked up anything more than another asteroid drifting lazily through space.
He still had his cloaking device from Chorus. He used it as he sneaked around the ship, looking for the holding cells. He tried to ping Agent Washington’s armor, with no response.
The ship was surprisingly empty. A skeleton crew from the looks of things.
Then he heard it. A mechanical voice, echoing through the corridors.
“This will all be over, if you just tell me what I need to know,” the voice said, sickening sweet.
“Fuck. You.”
Washington. He sounded dehydrated and tired.
Locus inched closer. Wash was tied up to a chair. His left eye was black and swollen. Blood pooled around the chair he was sitting in. His armor was laid out neatly nearby. Four guards surrounded him. One hit Washington in the head with his gun.
“I’m not telling you anything,” Washington hissed, rolling his head to look at a nearby screen. Blood dripped down his face. “So, you might as well kill me.”
“Hmm.” The woman on the other side of the screen pursed her lips. “You would like that wouldn’t you. Unfortunately for you, this will only end when you tell me where the other simulation troopers were sent.”
Another guard picked up a knife and ran it along Washington’s throat. Washington grunted as a small red line of blood formed.
Locus had 6 bullets in his sniper rifle and 4 targets. Their bodies hit the floor before they could register that the shots had been fired. They weren’t dead – not yet. The crew on the bridge would find them and hopefully get them medical attention. Washington gasped and strained against the ropes holding him to the chair. The lady on the screen looked surprised. Locus shot the computer that powered the screen and the image turned to static. One bullet remaining.
Washington was breathing heavy. He looked around, his eyes darting to all the dark corners of the room.
“Hello?” he asked, fear beginning to creep into his voice. He didn’t know the guards weren’t dead. He didn’t want to be left to starve.
Locus cupped Wash’s chin and dropped the cloaking. “Hello, Agent Washington.” He pulled a knife out of his armor. “I need you to hold still.”
Washington awoke with a start. The room was warm and the bed he was laying on was soft. The smell of bleach and chemicals hung in the air. Wash looked around. Medical equipment. Needles. Jars of cotton balls. Blood-soaked towels. He was in a small hospital room.
He tried to think back to what had happened. Locus? And some computer lady? His neck hurt and so did his leg.
The door slid open. A man stood there looking at him. Tall and broad shouldered with dark skin and a large X scar across his face. His black hair was pulled back, but a few loose strands framed his face. He was in grey and green armor. Locus.
He put a scar on his helmet. Washed mused to himself. That’s pretty fucked up. And he tried to say he’s not crazy.
Wash opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He cleared his throat and struggled to sit up. His wrists were swollen and didn’t want to support his weight. Locus put a hand on his back to steady him.
“How are you?” he asked softly.
“Where are they? Are they safe?”
“What?”
“Simmons, Donut, Tucker, the sim troopers!” Wash tried to yell, but his voice was barely a hoarse whisper.
“I don’t know.”
Wash’s loyalty to the sim troopers was foolish, but admirable.
Wash put his head down and groaned. “Can you take me to Chorus. To Armonia? I’ll… I’ll put a team together. I’ll track them down.”
Wash was desperate and his voice had an edge of hopelessness. That was unbecoming of a -
No. The war was over.
We aren’t soldiers anymore, Locus thought.
“No time. When I went back to get your armor, I had A'rynasea pull data from the ship. They already have the robot you call Lopez. Imagine what he can tell them. We’re en route to his location now.”
Wash looked up with confusion on his face. “You’re…you’re helping me?”
“Of course. Now shut up and rest. You were stabbed in the thigh and are on a high dose of antibiotics and painkillers.”
“But...” Wash wiggled his feet but couldn’t feel his toes.
Locus pushed him down. “Rest.”