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Realistic or Modern The Beast Project

"Ooo, climbing into bed with me? Not even gonna buy me flowers first?" Mantis winked. She covered her mouth and faked a giggle. "Just be gentle, I'm innocent." She fluttered her eyelashes before dropping the act and laughing. "That's got to be the biggest lie I've told yet." She joked and moved aside to make room for Cow.


"I just saw her." Crow pointed a thumb above his shoulder. He tried the blink away the blur from his eyes as he leaned in towards the ruined armor. "How did she survive that?" He asked. "That looks like a tank hit it. The armor must be pretty tough." Crow commented, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and giving his own armor a tap. "I guess that means us pilots have a better chance of surviving a crash." He looked at Condor before looking back to Magpie. He never felt as alive as he did when going through vicious dogfights with his equals. Even when he was destined to carry out a forced landing, he enjoyed it. It was what he was meant to do. "It should happen to us, though, right?" He chuckled. They were Beasts exactly because they weren't getting shot down. Not that many planes to go around for a mercenary company.


Wolf walked past the two guards in front of One's door and opened it after knocking twice. Like usual, One wasn't alone. Swan was sitting on one of the sofas but she wasn't writing anything down or reading. The girl was simply staring ahead. Things changed after her previous mission. Perhaps she finally cracked. Finally decided to drop out of the Program. If that were the case, it would be Wolf who would be stalking her in the middle of the night and going for the kill like she had done many times before. It was one of the things she couldn't trust her team to keep quiet about. Always so quick to brag, even when it was obviously detrimental.

"Sir." Wolf nodded to One sitting behind his large desk. His office reminded her of the countless she visited back in her corporate days. So many men spending so much money on lavish details which made them feel better about themselves. They were only asking for her to bring them down a peg.
One's office... Wasn't quite like that. Sure, it was so different compared to the rest of the base that one might think they entered a portal to a different era but it wasn't luxurious. No fancy paintings on the wall, no marble statues or golden door knobs. Just hardwood furniture, padded leather, and plenty of full bookshelves. The office was even pretty small. Not that much larger than a Beast's room. One did have expensive liquor in the globe in the corner but Wolf pinned that to diplomatic visits. She never saw him offer it to anyone when she was in the room. The office did, though, lead into two other rooms which, for all Wolf knew, could have been filled with gold bars and antique paintings.

"Sit." One motioned his hand at the sofa opposite to the one Swan was sitting on. The sofas were surprisingly sturdy. Beasts in full armor could sit on them without even a creak of the wood. Almost everything in the base was reinforced for such things. "Let's watch." One motioned his hand at the screen above Swan while Swan watched the screen above Wolf. He stood up and walked around to stand in front of his desk. It was the president. A failed project for One. He was lucky only a handful of people knew about it.


"My fellow Americans." Those were the words One would grow to hate, spoken by a man he already hated. The president was young. Surprisingly young, even. Being in his mid-thirties, no one expected him to win the presidency, least of all One. It was his puppet that was meant to win. The old fossil who made no decisions of his own. It was One's campaign as much as anyone's and he was the one who invested massive funds into the campaign. It was his associates in politics who pulled strings to make things certain. They even cheated to get that extra edge. All polls were expecting One's candidate to win. He didn't.
Somehow, democracy prevailed and One lost. He was stuck with a president who not only wasn't easily bent but replied in an aggressive way when offered a chance to work with One's group. Now everyone buried their heads in the sand, expecting the worst. Everyone went dark and cut connections until the storm blew over. All One could do, though, is wait.

"...charges of corruption." One rolled his eyes. The president was talking about his predecessor. He worked extensively with One but when his term was done, a lot of things surfaced. Problems One tried to not to solve but distance from himself. "...and after an extensive investigation, our intelligence services found that there is a group within the government working to enrich and empower themselves at the detriment of the people they are meant to serve." One clenched his teeth. That wasn't good. Not good at all. His associates have been made. "This group received assistance from various groups but many of them fall under the umbrella of Epsilon Corporation."
One felt his knees go weak. The president called out one of the biggest companies in the world for, at best, inciting corruption. If it stayed at that, the legal team in Europe would still be able to get them out of it. If it went beyond that... One would have a problem on his hands. The president went on urging people to stay strong and declaring a national emergency to combat the internal threat. One couldn't listen to it. His tower of cards grew too tall. Now the table shook and it threatened to come crashing down.

"Damage control." One declared. "Wolf." He turned towards the red Beast who simply wasn't sure what the situation meant for them. "We cannot allow rumours to surface. Make sure your team acts on anyone spreading stories."
Wolf's eyebrows slowly inched up. Cracking her knuckles, she asked. "How far are we allowed to go?"
One didn't hesitate. "You're allowed to do what is necessary." He nodded and looked at Swan. She was staring right back at him. "If you want to learn..." One raised a finger towards her as Wolf left the office. "You will stay. You don't learn when things are going great. You learn when things are going poorly." Straightening his posture and tie, One added. "Besides, you need to learn how to be strong. You can't break as you had with Rat. Be strong." He said and headed to the door.
"I..." Swan began but stopped when One opened the door. "I..." She tried again. "I'm just a student..." She crossed her arms on her chest and cast her gaze down.
"Stay and learn or leave and study." One said and closed the door, leaving Swan alone in his office.

As One exited his office, his phone rang. He didn't have time for calls. He had to address the soldiers. Assure them everything will be fine. That the accusations are false. "Yes?" One answered.
"It's... Me." The familiar whisper came from the other side. One felt a wave of relief wash over him. Snake wasn't compromised. "Figured you wanted to hear from me after that stunt."
One smirked, making his way to the main hall. Snake always made One more confident about his choice of Beasts. Just his existence meant One still knew what he was doing. "Yeah." One slowed his pace down so he could hear everything Snake had to say before reaching the troopers. "Go on, tell me what you know."
"The arrests started yesterday. This was just shaking the tree to see who else falls out. Most of your people have been taken in and, from what I hear, they are talking to get themselves off the hook."
One cursed. Cowards. All of them. There was never a relationship of absolute loyalty but they could have at least been concerned about what One would do if he found out about their betrayal. "What about Sinclair?" One asked through his teeth.
"The speaker isn't suspected yet and he isn't running. He's playing his part well." The whisper on the other end of the line paused for a moment. "More and more departments are turning their attention to you."
One stopped, rubbing his forehead. "Can we... Just look into the possibility of blackmail or... Assassinations. Of those arrested."
"I think the Asian branch might be more suited for that. They have more agents. More... Disposable agents. I can carry it out, though, if that's what you think is best."
One shook his head, continuing on his way. "No, no... You're right. Just keep me updated as the situation develops." One requested and hung up. At least there was still someone in Washington he could rely on.

"Your attention, please!" One raised his voice to silence the murmurs in the main hall. The large groups of soldiers began turning towards him, following his raised hand as he approached the centre of the room. "Soldiers!" He stopped, trying to get the attention of the few who still didn't realize it was One that walked into the room.


"Holy fuck." Mantis scratched one of the scars spreading across her cheeks. "That sounds like it could be a problem." She frowned but shrugged. She wasn't into politics and there were people brighter than her worrying about what that meant for them. "I say that calls for a drink." Not taking her eyes off Doe, Mantis leaned towards Cow and whispered loud enough that Doe would hear her. "Sneak us something nice, will you?"
 
Condor approached Magpie with a big grin. "Reports and flight diagnostics from both flights. Minor stabilization issues with the navigation gyro but otherwise fine. I took the liberty of adding some footnotes of my own and I had Crow glance over everything just a few minutes ago to make sure it all looked good." She said while extending the datapad towards Magpie.

---

Arriving safely at their barracks, Minotaur and Tigris reunited with Satyr, Pegasus, Fenrir and Manticore who had finished sorting out the personal packing. Soon after Cerberus and Griffin arrived as well, having finished their inventory of the team's weapons and ammo. With no more tasks for the day the team dropped their tactical gear and decided to hang out inside their rec room. Not a lot of words were said. Griffin and Cerberus were tinkering with some non-lethal breaching device on one of the tables. Satyr was studying something medical-related on her datapad while cuddling up against Fenrir in one of the couches.
Manticore was drawing something while Pegasus kept bombarding him with tales of odd technical specifications for all kinds of vehicles.

At the far end of the room, around one of the smaller tables, were Minotaur and Tigris. None of them said a thing. They simply relaxed and enjoyed the time off. Hopefully they'd get a couple of days off but knowing One the next mission could come any minute...
 
"No flower exists to express the passions I have for you," Cow muttered as he perched. "None die quickly enough. Now, shh, Mantis, it might be important," he imitated Doe, rolling his eyes as he shook his head in mock irritation for her voice talking over the president he forgot existed until a few minutes ago.

Cow knew only a little bit about the boy. He knew One was more annoyed than usual when the guy was brought into power, but otherwise his knowledge was limited. Still, if One was annoyed because of the boy getting into office, then his appearance had to be bad. Bad for the Program, bad for One, and bad for the Beasts in the end.

He sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm. His brain wanted to switch itself off, to die in a corner somewhere. He was finding it difficult to care.

The president was directly referencing the Program, and Epsilon, and he was one of the Program's Beasts, supposed to be one of the best-of-the-best in the world, and he could not make himself care. The entire thing boiled down to two words in Cow's mind, two words that were as burned into him as the tattoo on his face. So what? Occasionally the word 'fucking' would be thrown in between them, in a moment of emotion or irritation, but at this point there was nothing more than lethargy. So what?

The president was telling his fellow Americans that something big existed they didn't know about. So what?

No doubt it'd affect One, the president, their relations and the populus of America but so what? Cow didn't care.

He sat up straighter and rolled his neck. The room he was in, with Mantis and Doe, was supposed to be one of safety. Of recovery. Of hope. All that was probably threatened by whatever the president said. Pulling back the figurative curtain to reveal a crater the people weren't supposed to know about. The security of hope was being breached.

"What even made this happen...?" Cow heard Doe muse. She didn't sound as worried as he'd expected, but more curious.

"Maybe start worrying about what will happen, rather than what's already in the past," he said to her. "It's One's job to do that."

Doe looked at him, the slight pout of her lips indicating her consideration of his words, before she was drawn to Mantis' voice. Cow looked round at the recovering Beast blankly when she asked him to get her a drink. He scrutinised her for a moment before standing up. "Tell me not to bring her alcohol, Doe."

"Afraid so, sweetheart," Doe said, coming round to lay a hand gently on Mantis' shoulder. "We're not just trying to ruin your fun, it's in your best interest."

"Problem is, I don't have any alcohol. I have peach and passionfruit juice if you want." He folded his arms. "It's good. Takes the edge off. I'll forget to bring you some so don't look forward to it."

Doe raised her eyebrows at him. "Well, good to offer I suppose."

Cow shrugged. "Can't be nice all the time. Get better, Mantis. I refuse to deal with Wolf on my own." He nodded at her, ignored Doe, and sighed his way out of the room. He had already stored the president's appearance away in his mental file called 'Of No Importance To My Immediate World Or Vicinity' so he was going back to his duties. He had things to do - whatever those things were, they probably weren't important either - and recruits to break.

One of those was more enjoyable than the other.



The cameras at the headquarters were in Rat's clutches. Since returning and muddling over Moth's revelations to him, Rat had begun the processes of letting himself access the cameras via his helmet. He checked them periodically, feeling it would be more than useful for him to have whiskers all around the complex. To know where Beasts that he needed to talk to was efficient, and that was the most innocent use he could get out of it.

Otherwise, he kept an eye on public areas.

The main hall was one of them.

He checked while in the intel room at the moment the Director was striding through the hall. He froze, recognising the Director's gait was far from normal. This... just after that bulletin from the president.

Rat slammed all his files back into the cabinet, slid it closed and locked it with Cow's passphrase - for which his contempt for the bigger Beast only grew - and scurried from the room. As he did so, he got a different angle in the room with another camera: the Director was getting the attention of soldiers in the room. He was calling them, raising his hands, getting attention onto himself.

Rat moved through the complex with a purpose. He darted from corridor to corridor, eyes narrowed. He was seeing the Director in one eye on the HUD of his visor, and the other was planning his route. He passed soldiers, troopers, batches of recruits being led around by trainers. He ran past other Beasts as silently as his movement with Swan.

He had to get to the main hall.

The Director hadn't called a meeting with all the Beasts present, nor had he requested anything. Rat didn't see many other Beasts making their way to the hall: Rat didn't get an alert telling him to come. Considering their last mission, he would expect to, if the Director's appearance was connected. Rat's lips were thin. He had a theory. The Director... was he...?

"Moth," Rat opened comms with the other Beast. They had struck a deal. Rat had to uphold it. "Get to the main hall if you're not already there. The Director's panicking. I'm going to pick up as much information as I can. We can't let this opportunity go."



"Oh wonderful!" Magpie grabbed the datapad out of Condor's hands, eager to see everything she had considered on his little project. "Mmhm, mmhm, I'm glad you're so in tune with it, you really get to its heart don't you? Its soul. I bet she felt wonderful in the air, because she certainly felt great on the ground. Oh, I'd love to take a spin in it, but obviously I'll tune it up a bit... correct the gyro, add some fail-safes for stabilisation, hmm... hmm..." Magpie's speech became slower and slower as he began reading Condor's notes in detail alongside the records. His forehead was creased and the tip of his tongue was poking out from between his lips.

O'Shea came forward, "Oi, hey, yeah, he's gonna be out of it for a li'l while with that lot..." she peeked over his shoulder and tapped the screen. "25 screens?! Oh, my God, yeah he's gonna be out of it for a while. Well, thanks for... dropping it off, I s'pose. You'd best clear off before he goes all weeping angel on our arses. Oi, Mag."

Magpie didn't even look up as O'Shea laid quite a hard slug on his arm. "Ow," he said.

"Say thank you."

"Thank you."

O'Shea beamed at Crow and Condor.


Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual
 
Moth frowned as Rat pinged him. The man was holding up his end of the deal. Moth might even have to give him something back as a show of good will. Now, though, too many things were going on at once. Too many opportunities he could act on. One was in a panic, it seemed, which was a good time for a chat with him. Things might slip out. Swan, on the other hand, became more and more of a recluse since her previous mission and started rarely appearing at the base. Interrogating her could be striking gold. She was just too clever for Moth to work. Too much of a risk of her turning on him. There was also a chance to give One's office a quick look as his guards scrambled to follow their boss.

Moth settled on something else. He decided to gamble. Play on his hunch. Shark. She had to be cracked open. There had to be something to her that would aid him in his mission. There were only a couple of months left before he had to meet with his contact. He collected a lot of info in the previous year but Shark might be just what he needed to seal the deal. Maybe even get a fellow agent in the Program. It would definitely take the stress off.

"Thanks for the tip, Rat." Moth replied. There would be time to found out what exactly One wanted to say. Some soldier will mention it to another. One might even repeat it to the Beasts. "I'm afraid I'm working on something else, though." It was time to give him a bit of a tip too. "You might want to check out his office. His personal AI doesn't seem to log unwanted visitors." It was a terrifying mistake Moth learned from when he first arrived at the Program.
A quick rumble through One's office followed by an official visit where he heard the AI. There were no consequences, though. Not even on subsequent searches. Perhaps One was that confident no one could get in or perhaps there was nothing to gain from searching his office. In any case, though, Moth rummaged through it several times over the years. He even found useful snippets. Notes, photos...

"Armadillo." Moth switched communication channels and tones. The cold and calculative tone with which he dealt with Rat vanished in favor of the more naive and friendly one he interacted with everyone else. Even more naive when it came to Armadillo. "Could you meet me in a Beast common room, please?" He sent him a message and arrived at the Myth team barracks. The common room should give them the right ratio of privacy and lack of suspicion. The common rooms were the perfect place for that. They looked eerily like the living room of his last apartment. Perhaps because they looked like almost any living room.

"Minotaur?" Moth knocked on the doorway. "Tigris?" He smiled, letting his visor go transparent. He wanted them to see the smile going with his kind tone. "Do you two have a minute?" He asked. He decided before he even left the room that the interaction would best be presented as a favor to him. He wouldn't mind owing it and he could only gain from it. "...In private?" He asked after looking around and smiling awkwardly at the rest of the team. "We can go to a nearby common room." He pointed over his shoulder.



Finally getting their full attention, One went quiet. They were such animals. All of them. Reverting to their primitive instincts and gossiping. Some of the rats even spoke about leaving the ship. So quick to jump off. So untrustworthy. Couldn't even wait a few minutes to hear what was actually going on. So... Human of them.
One had to push back a disgusted frown as he looked around the room at their judging, concerned faces. He was the captain of their ship. There would be no jumping off. Epsilon corporation was far from sinking.

"You have heard what the president said." One said, motioning at the screens littering the room. He had to be direct and precise. A well-placed shot at their worries. An official announcement would have to be made later for everyone else over the speaker system. There were a lot of people in the main hall but that was far from being all of them. "I want you to understand that there is nothing to worry." He began. "Those of you who have been with me for years, the veterans of the Program, know that the Program operated fully within the bounds of the law." He lied.
Those who truly have been with him for long enough knew they didn't have to worry. They saw things and saw One get away with it. It was a unique situation but they had to trust him. "I assure you that none of you will be considered criminals and that these false accusations will be dealt with in the following weeks." Taking a deep breath, One looked around the room. The newer faces didn't seem all that convinced but most seemed to have relaxed to the point of not caring. They had the same expression that Cow seemed to carry when spoken to about almost anything.
"That said, I'd appreciate if you didn't concern yourself with this matter. There is no need to shout fire when there is no smoke." That was the end of his time. Some soldiers began moving back in the room or heading towards exits. He needed Wolf. He needed her to bring the fear back into them. The accusation the president made shook his authority and he needed to build it back up.


"Bye, big guy!" Mantis waved Cow as he left the room and winced when the sharp stab of pain reminded her that she still wasn't in the same shape she used to be. Her body needed to recover. Waiting for her body to catch up with her mind, though, would only get her rusty. Waste her. Not to mention how incredibly boring it would be.
"Hey, Doe..." Mantis began, looking down. She was much quieter and calm this time. "I know I have to rest and all." She began explaining while avoiding eye contact with the good doctor. "But could I go see my team? Just see them train, nothing more. I promise I'll take it easy. I just wanna see how they're doing. It's really boring here and, I don't know..." She shrugged, finally looking up at Doe. "It would make me feel better. Please?" Mantis was, to her credit, actually being honest.
She had every intention of upholding her promise but there was a part of her that knew she could gladly fight back if Wolf asked for it. There would be few things more satisfying than bringing Wolf to her knees even while at half her strength. All she really wanted, though, was to see Jay. See how the kid was doing. She visited Mantis, after all. The least she could do was check out how Jay was doing with her training.


Crow loved the Program. There were so many quirky people in it. So many good people as well. It was such a beautiful ecosystem where they all relied on one another and, most of the time, were willing to help each other in need. He even knew that One wanted only the best for him when he pulled him off most assignments. It was only turning him into a vegetable but he knew why One did it. "He certainly loves his work, doesn't he?" He chuckled, watching Magpie. How broken would he be if One assigned him to only maintain his private jet? "How are things...?" Crow let the question hang. He wanted to say the woman's name and he knew it well but it would without a doubt be slurred. He could allow that. Instead, Crow just cut the question short and decided that a bit of awkwardness beat them noticing.
 
Minotaur, sitting with his arms crossed, looked up as Moth arrived at the door. Tigris raised and eyebrow and glanced at Minotaur. Both of them had very little experience with Moth. Thankfully, because of their long deployment times in the field, Fireteam Myth was usually spared from most of the internal politics of the program though they did hear rumors every now and then. Some of these rumors surrounded Moth.
Getting up from their table Minotaur nodded. "Sure, lead the way." Tigris followed behind her squad leader, stopping briefly to grab her water bottle.

Once the trio were outside in the hallway Minotaur looked at Moth. "What's up?"

Mr_DC Mr_DC
 
Eyes were on the Director and Rat snuck into the room in silence. At first, he took in the expressions of soldiers, seeing them all bunched into groups in accordance to their rank. There were soldiers in the room who were recruits only months ago, and troopers who had recently improved in rank. Rat recognised faces, and knew he would be recognised if they were looking at him. They weren't vital: he knew their position. He didn't even have to see the soldiers to know where they stood. The Director was panicking and facing them, meaning they could, as one force, rip the Program from under him.

Fortunately, with the Director up front, the soldiers didn't seem to notice they had that power.

Hearing Moth's response, Rat grunted to himself. Moth had a powerful ally in this room. Someone who digested whatever he was presented with and could recall it with little effort. The Director's words sunk into Rat as he frowned at Moth's next advice: break into the Director's office.

On the whole, Rat considered, that should be simple enough. He was a Beast, which meant there was no immediate reason to be suspicious of him. True, he wasn't a fanatic like Wolf, nor was he docile, but he had given no reason over his years of service for suspicion. Rat had acted independently but professionally, and only his coldness might prompt someone to take precautions. But the precautions wouldn't matter even if they were taken.

The first step would be getting in. Simple enough. He would reveal he wanted an appointment with the Director, but only if he was asked. Otherwise, he would walk straight into the Director's office. It was all about confidence.

Then would come the time... and therein lay the risk. Rat reckoned he could stay in the Director's office. He was quiet enough to move around without being heard, and only when he started rustling things around would he become cause for suspicion. But, his access to the cameras around the complex would help him there. He could keep an eye on the area around the office, on the guards stationed outside, on where the Director himself was. So the risk would be minimised.

But the hardest part... was where the Director might keep things.

Blending in with the soldiers as they left, using their average height to hide his own small stature, Rat escaped the room to begin his machinations.



The next person to receive Moth's communications was out of his armour and jogging in his usual black-and-electric-blue tracksuit. As a result, he had in an earpiece. Armadillo wasn't often summoned, and usually went to find enjoyment among the other Beasts rather than be invited. As such, when he heard his earpiece pipe up with a voice, his eyebrows perked up, hoping it might be Lion or Crow like it was before, or maybe someone else wondering if he would like to join them.

But it wasn't a summons that promised relaxation. It was work. Armadillo stopped jogging and wiped his forehead as he listened to Moth.

"Of course, I'll come right over. I'm not too far away, I won't be a minute," he replied, hardly giving away his exercise in his breath. After assuring Moth he wouldn't be long, Armadillo jogged to his bag in which he was keeping his training gear and slung it over his shoulder. It had been one of those quiet, calm days for him.

Well, that was true until he entered the corridors of the complex. The soldiers he passed seemed to walk differently. They frowned, they had steel in their souls and Armadillo wasn't sure where from. He wanted to stop a soldier and ask what happened, if there was anything he could do, but Moth's request was priority. So he moved on, concern creasing his wide forehead.

When he got to the common room, Armadillo let his bag fall into one of the seats. The sturdy furniture didn't complain as his bag landed heavily on it. He rooted around, up to his wrists in small-scale exercise gear until he found a little case from which he drew his glasses. He settled them on his face and looked around for the Beast who summoned him. Ah, there, just beyond the door. Moth's back was to the door. He was standing near Fireteam Myth's common room, if Armadillo remembered right.

The big Beast moved around furniture as he made his way to the other door, as fluid as liquid. Armadillo knew his size and acted on it. It was something every Beast knew how to do, especially if they were abnormal in some way physically. Armadillo was tall, Armadillo was broad, Armadillo considered himself a little top-heavy. So he had to know how to handle himself.

He pulled open the door gently and smiled as he announced himself, "Hi, Moth. Oh, and hi you two. I've been meaning to say, I hope your mission went well. We really could have used you on the field in our last big one, you might have made all the difference," he spoke with a voice like twilight. Low, but clear and calm. "No mission goes perfectly. Can I help you now, Moth?"



"Well, the problem is, I'm not technically on duty for you... I shouldn't really be around," Doe smiled. She left Mantis' side and returned to her stack of files on the chair. "I just popped in to check on how you were doing, and i stayed to make sure Cow wouldn't upset you. Let me check how late I am on the files. Give me a moment."

Doe stood still for a while, bringing out her datapad and running few a few systems. From any outsider's perspective, she was tapping away at boxes and charts that made little sense. But that was the thing about the medical field. Some things had to be complicated. Some things had to be confusing so people couldn't abuse the system if they didn't know what they were doing. In a couple of instances, Doe input a code before checking the page and sending it off.

She turned as she lowered the pad, looking towards the door. At the same time, an aged medic pushed open the door with one hand. He had the tired eyes of a professional and the open face of a friend. He was wheeling something in his other hand.

"Are we swapping?" he said.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Thank you for this," Doe took the device from his hand and, with the flick of a fastening lever, unfolded a wheelchair by Mantis' bed. "I've put myself on duty so we can go see your team without being disturbed. I'd like you to be in the chair for the time being though. You're going to be weaker than you think from bed-rest."



"He... uh..." O'Shea looked at Magpie before sidling up to Crow and Condor. "Pretty sure he loves it too much, y'know? I've never heard him mention a girlfriend or nothing. I told him, I said, you can't make babies with your toolbox, and he said he'd get me in trouble if I said that again. I think he needs to get out more. Like, really out."

She gave Condor and Crow a manic half-grin, failing completely to hide her own amusement at the crass imagery she had put before them. She knew Magpie wouldn't be listening, he never was once he was engrossed in something. It took someone calling him to break him out of his stupor.

O'Shea loved mechanics and engineering as much as Magpie did, but she knew he had a spark she didn't have. For one thing, he was younger than her by a good few years. He kept his youth showing in his blond hair, cut in a fauxhawk. O'Shea had blond hair too, but it was heavily bleached and dyed, and more yellow than blond if she was honest. But she didn't mind being Magpie's understudy. She could shout louder and work louder than the average engineer, and Magpie's inexperience with command had assumed that meant she was better than the rest of them. She was happy to let him think so: the more she got to do, the happier she was.


Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual
 
Moth gave the group a friendly smile. He bowed his head forward so he could look up at them. Wringing his hands, Moth shrugged. He wasn't going too far with the act but it was bound to make him seem more humble and weaker. He was handing them control. They were the big, strong Beasts while he was just a humble soldier. It was an act many Beasts were susceptible to.
They were constantly praised as the best and it took only small effort from Moth to get the desired effect. So many liked their egos stroked. Their image of themselves enforced. Only a few Beasts didn't care about being better than the rest and, according to Moth, Armadillo seemed to be one of those. He would still do what Moth wanted. He was too nice to refuse such an innocent request made in such a nice manner.

"I hope I'm not bothering you." He shrugged nervously. "I just have a bit of a favor to ask you. Figured you'd be the best to ask. Wanted to check with Mantis too but she's still recovering." He lied. Mantis wouldn't quite fit his needs. At least not from what he saw before. She wouldn't have the right effect.
"You know the new girl? Shark?" He motioned his head towards the door as if she would suddenly appear there. Of course, they knew about her. Everyone heard of Shark. Simply being presented as the best in the Program meant knowing about her was unavoidable. Still, Moth couldn't be too direct. He had to dance around the issue a bit.
"She's still keeping to herself. I know she's new but everyone is hanging out with someone. Mantis has Panda, Wolf has Bear, you..." Moth motioned at Armadillo. "Have Lion and Crow, you..." He motioned at Minotaur and Tigris. "Have your team." He paused. Allowed them to make their own ideas of what he would ask. Let them process the information.

"I'd just like to help her. It must be impossible to make friends when everyone fears you. Can't imagine what that's like..." He sighed. He just had to stick the landing correctly. "I just hoped you could help me get her to relax. Be friendly with her. Approach her when no one else does, you know?" It was hardly a ten-point landing but at least he didn't break his leg doing it.
How well they did what he asked them didn't really matter. It was a sure bet for him. They either manage to open her up and he manages to leach info off her or they annoy her and make his subtlety seem better by contrast. "Could you do me that favor?" He added the cherry on top. Made them think he would owe them a favor but who would really expect payment for a good deed?


"You guys are way too fucking nice." Mantis grinned, pushing herself to sit on the edge of the bed. She knew Doe was right as her arms trembled from the strain on them. Still, Mantis would power through it even if she didn't have a wheelchair. "I'd hate to see you angry. Not healthy to bottle things up, you know? Let out some steam!" He laughed as she finally got in the wheelchair with some help from Doe.
"If I ever have a kid - which I won't because I'm responsible enough to know I'm too irresponsible - I want to name it after you..." She began as Doe pushed her through the hallways. "What is your name anyway?" She asked, allowing Doe a glimpse of her train of thought. "You know, I had such a good superhero name before the Program. Now I'm just Mantis." She pouted. "I used to be called the GREEN MANTIS." She waved her arms. "I could have been a superhero, Doe. A crime fighter! Like Batman." She mimicked the comic hero's gruff voice.

When Doe wheeled her into a training room, Mantis couldn't help but smile. She trained them well. Not necessarily how to be amazing fighters but how to be a great team. While Wolf's team was full of cutthroats who would stab each other in the back just to be the first to lick Wolf's boots, Mantis' team was working together. Helping each other learn and growing from each other's strengths.
Mantis was proud. She was confident in the knowledge that even if something were to happen to her, her team would still be fine. They could still share what they learned from her. If they even managed to learn anything from her. She wasn't a great taught but she lead by example.

"She's kinda hot." Mantis lowered her tone as she watched Jay. "Not just kinda. She's hot. But not just hot hot." She continued, not taking her eyes off the girl as she corrected the posture of her teammate. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things I'd do to her..." She purred. "But she's not just sexually hot. I... I don't know. I'd like to go for a beer with her too. Not even get wasted. Just chill. She's hot hot but she's beer hot too. Not many people are beer hot. A lot are hot hot... Some are just beer. She's-uh..." Mantis shrugged. "She's beer hot too." Mantis frowned, shifting to look up at Doe. "Is this making any sense to you?" Looking back at her team, Mantis shrugged. "Sure as hell isn't making sense to me."


Feeling she outstayed her welcome, Swan exited One's office. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her face was puffy. There were no guards outside One's office to see her that way but she did spot Rat heading in her direction. With an involuntary sniffle, Swan turned and rushed away in the opposite direction - heading towards the garage.
 
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Minotaur glanced at Tigris as Moth finished before shrugging. "I guess we could say 'hi'. You're aware what we do for a living though, right?"
While he didn't say it outright it was clear that Minotaur was referring to the fact that he and his team were more or less a squad of hitmen. Or janitors. Janitorial hitmen?

Oh well. Maybe this Shark-character preferred those that carried out wetwork operations?

Tigris scratched her chin while Minotaur crossed his arms. "I guess we could see if she wants to spar," suggested Tigris. Minotaur nodded and looked at Moth.

"Anything else?"

---

Condor chuckled in response to O'Shea's remark about Mag needing to get laid. "Don't worry. Give him some tools, a quiet room and a week. He'll figure something out. Always does."

Mr_DC Mr_DC 0stinato 0stinato
 
"I've been in this line of work for a good few years," Armadillo said after some thought, "and never do people walk into this occupation expecting friends. The Program is an exception that I've found, probably because we are forced to live and work in tandem. Beasts at least: soldiers not so much. I think a better base would be to establish a working relationship with her, and acknowledge her skill, so that we know where she fits in with us as a soldier first. So I second Tigris' idea. Besides," Armadillo's face softened. His smile - one of hope and concern at once - brought a security with it that juxtaposed his strong jawline with comfort, "from what I've seen, I wouldn't know where to start talking to her. I think we should work with her."

He paused for a moment and looked around at the group. "It's pleasant to see this camaraderie happening," he said quietly. "I suppose... it's the silver lining of almost losing Mantis isn't it? To value each other more. As soldiers. It'll make us stronger. We should talk to her as soon as possible. Get to know what she can do."

The easiest way to learn what she could do, Armadillo suspected, was to ask Rat since she was with him in the last mission. But he wasn't about to choose that path even if it was the easiest one. To do so would start a spiral into owing Rat something. So Armadillo didn't suggest it. But there was another alternative.

"Did Shark help Swan a few weeks ago? Should we ask her to join us?"



"Angry?" Doe smiled. "That's the difference between me and Gazelle. She gets stressed and I get angry. It's more common than you think, especially with some of the other Beasts. Some of them really don't realise how irritating they can be by not listening to a medical professional... ah, sorry. There I go." Doe laughed. She was looking forward to getting outside more than anything. Breathe in the air. Be below the sky, even if the day wasn't particularly pleasant.

"Hm, certainly a life I've not heard about. If I get a second off, tell me about your exploits. And I've got a bit of a strange name, but that's what you get for being Scandinavian. Etti Rörig. Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, eh?"


Doe let Mantis' manic mind continue on its merry way, replying sporadically. She was enjoying getting out of the ward, out of the building, if only just for a moment. When she was entering the building again, heading for Mantis' team, she felt lighter. The artificial light of the ward had been weighing her down without her even noticing. But now she was energetic and held her head higher.

She stood to the side a little, letting Mantis and her team greet each other. She felt almost as if she was getting ready to release a wild animal from her care. Letting a previously-injured fawn from her grasp back to its mother, or perhaps releasing a fox to pad into the undergrowth. Mantis was surrounded by likeminded people who did care about her. More than as a leader. But, Doe reckoned, that was a big thing with the Beasts. Some fell into the category of professional, and some into the category of friend even by default. The former category could be knocked down and in the ward, and others would only hope they recover to return to their duties. And others could fall and cause the base to hold its breath as one unit.

Doe didn't know how Gazelle felt on the field that day. She only wished she was by Gazelle's side so the solidarity was there. But that didn't happen: Doe was busy saving lives in another flank. She had her job, and she had done it, unaware of Mantis. But still, Gazelle had taken it all on. Worked to save her without worrying anyone.

Doe thought that, if she had seen Mantis dying, locked into her damaged armour, life teetering and threatening to fall away, she would...

"No, no, no sense at all. Just wait til you're off pain meds and maybe I'll let you go out with her. Although, you'll have to re-do your hair before you do," Doe tutted. "Can't let you go on a date in that state can we?"


(Rat section will be in another post.)

Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual
 
Thank God she left.

Rat didn't know what he would have done if, upon barging into the Director's office - in his own quiet, nondescript way of barging - he had come nose-to-nose with Swan. He knew he wouldn't have panicked and fumbled for an excuse, but he would have felt it necessary to explain something. The kind of quick-thinking that came naturally only to actors and psychopaths. Rat considered himself neither of those.

He didn't allow himself to pause as he moved, despite wanting to scope out where Swan was going.

While the Director was out of the room and accompanied, he could take the chance, take the suggestion Moth had given him. It was against his nature to even consider the word 'chance' but he understood why people had to. The moment could pass, the window could close, the door could lock. The Director could walk back any time. Now or never. That was it - now or never. He took the chance, and he was going to see it through to the end.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

Rat switched his views through the cameras to follow the Director's progress through the base as he let himself into the Director's office. It didn't look like he was heading anywhere - he would be coming back. Rat nodded to himself, then looked around the room. With an inhale, he began to digest what he saw. Bookcases, globe, doors, desk, various chairs, warm ambience, homely scent. Unlike anywhere else in the complex. Even Beasts who made their rooms more comfortable, more to their liking, could never shake the fact they were organised in a military fashion. With a few cameras, Rat had allowed himself a peek into a few rooms. Some tried to inject a sense of home into their sleeping quarters. Some didn't. Some were straight-collared enough to swallow what they had. Others relished the lifestyle: the room suited them because this was all they knew. They were born with a company-standard haircut. They were soldiers who had the potential to be beefeaters.

Rat went to the desk, feeling alien in the room. His light armour contrasted the Director's suit anyway, but at the moment he felt like a science-fiction cast member walking across the set of a war-time drama.

He crouched, teasing out the bottom drawer on the right side. Nothing here was locked. The Director was on his way back: Rat had to be quick.

The first drawer held documents, but nothing that was vital for Rat. He fingered the contents of the drawer for a moment to check nothing was important, then abandoned his endeavour and stood. He was looking for things relating to Shark. The Director's... little pet project.

His eye fell on the door to the Director's quarters-- bedroom. It wasn't a quarters. It was a bedroom. A rarity. A personal space. A comfortable space. Rat glanced at the camera feed in his visor, and decided to enter the bedroom. He was already waist-deep. Might as well fling himself up into his neck.

The door wasn't locked either, but led into the darkness. Rat refrained from activating the light, electing to move around in the dark. It was safe, the dark. He worked in the dark: always skulking around corners, staying in shadows, moving in dusk-clouds and the enemies' impaired vision. It was most comfortable.

The room wasn't packed with furniture. There was the bed, wardrobe, bedside cabinet. The wardrobe was a curiosity to Rat: perhaps the Director had something tucked away somewhere. But, he decided, likely it would be filled with the same black suit over and over and over again. Each hanger a clone of the previous. Rat couldn't face that. For some reason, the thought of it made him shiver. It was uncanny. That was the problem.

So he crouched near the bedside cabinet, teasing it out of its resting place by the edges, avoiding the handle. He had his armour on, so his fingerprints wouldn't be left behind, but after years of being careful, it was ingrained into him.

He peeked inside, scowled, and activated the light on his visor. What it illuminated was an old picture, aged through the years. It showed the Director, and... someone else. A woman. Never had the Director mentioned anybody like this. Rat would have remembered. He took in a breath, and decided to switch the feed from the cameras off: instead, he brought up the feed he would get from his own camera on his visor. He activated the camera to record, and let it capture the photograph for a few seconds. He would examine it later.

He didn't have time now.

He shut the camera off, the data announcing it was saved on his helmet's local drive, and pushed the drawer closed gently, producing nothing more than a susurrus.

That was enough from this room.

Something personal. It had to be. The long-dormant part of Rat's memory was lighting up quickly from its sleep. Soon, his mind would begin weaving machinations, creating plots, orchestrating this evidence and twisting it into blackmail. He would have to suppress that part of him. He couldn't afford to act alone.

Rat switched off the light from his visor and left the room. He switched the feed back to the cameras and flicked around to find the Director as he closed the bedroom door. Safe... as long a he didn't want to escape. If he wanted to escape, he'd have to run now. He could take the path Swan took, escape the situation.

Or... he could submerge himself.

Rat gritted his teeth and returned the desk. One final look. He would cover the right side of the room only with this search. But, since he hadn't disturbed anything, the Director would have no extra reason to increase security of the room... not that the Director had much to begin with. To be surrounded by half-loyal, half-manic supersoldiers, and to not even lock your doors, Rat thought that was foolish. Hubris, that's what it was. The Director did so because he was confident. His hamartia.

If he wanted to return and search again... it might be possible.

Otherwise...

Rat slid open the top drawer of the desk. It wasn't a calculated decision. It was just the place within reach.

And just the place he needed.

At first, Rat was going to dismiss the document inside as just as useless as the ones in the bottom drawer, but then he noticed it was a report from Gazelle. He looked a bit closer. Gazelle. If the document had anything on Gazelle, perhaps it would get him one step closer to accessing her clearance level.

But no, it wouldn't help him like that.

The report was on "The Subject."

Rat exhaled, and began another recording with his visor, recording the one-page report on front and back. He ended the recording as he slid the paper back into the drawer and closed the drawer. That was the end of his search.

Moving with the minimum of noise, Rat darted over to the door and turned his back to it. He laced his hands together behind his back, standing to attention. There was no way h could possibly leave now. He wasn't sure where the Director was, a result of the last recording, and so knew he had to face the Director. A reason for being in the room. A reason for barging in... when the Director wasn't there.

Rat nodded to himself. He had a reason.

When the door began to open, Rat looked over his shoulder as though surprised by the noise.

He couldn't wait to look at the Director.



"It looks great, Condor," Magpie looked up, speaking loudly to combat any retort O'Shea might make in regards to his sexuality. "Very thorough. This is what I like about working with drivers and pilots. They really care for their vehicle or their craft. They really connect with it. It's more than a tool, it's like a friend somehow. I used to feel that way about the equipment I maintained on my parents' farm... well, yeah, that's what I like about you guys..." he looked over his shoulder at Wolf's chestpiece in the sling and sighed. "Too many Beasts see their armour and their weapons as... just things. I think it's a shame."

"Oh, hey, speaking of that, boss," O'Shea tapped on the counter with her palm, glancing at her own datapad. "New order for ya. Apparently, under Director's orders, Cow needs his upgraded armour."

"Thank God," Magpie raised his hands skywards. "It takes up too much space on the shelves. Assign... hm, yeah, assign Sharma and her team to check it out."

"Yeah yeah, alright," O'Shea became engrossed in the tablet. So engrossed, the tip of her pink tongue poked out from between her dark lips.

"Happy to get that out of here... it means, it means... it means I'll have space to store the parts for the VTOL when I look at the gyro. Ooo, feel free to let Cerberus know I'll be messing around with the VTOL. I wouldn't mind having a bit of company."

"Oooo," O'Shea cooed from the datapad. "Cerberus and Magpie sittin' in a tree. F - U - C - K - I - N - G." She didn't get to continue the rhyme as her chuckle turned into a laugh.


Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual

(TOOK LONG ENOUGH, YOU BOYS HAPPY NOW?!)
 
Armadillo was almost too easy. It didn't feel right taking advantage of people that nice but it had to be done. Armadillo was just another piece of a puzzle and any discomfort towards fooling him had to be pushed down. As long as Shark didn't kill Armadillo, Moth could go on and convince himself it was all justified. All for a higher purpose. The other two, though... They weren't as simple as Moth had hoped for.
Minotaur and Tigris were less excited about the matter and didn't seem to find it as noble as Moth had hoped they would. It didn't help his friendly reputation but they didn't outright accuse him of trying something. They did, however, propose sparring. That... Wasn't great. If they win - no matter how unlikely One made it sound - then Shark might close herself off. One might even pull her from the Program if things were that complicated behind the curtain. If Shark won, though, she might open up to them. If that were to happen, Moth would need to be around. Find a way to inject himself into the situation.

Then, there was Swan. An idea Armadillo brought up. An idea Moth had to bury. Swan was way too suspicious and there was a constant risk she could see through him. Their methods were similar, after all. All she had to do was notice the little details. The details only she could notice. No, Moth avoided Swan like the devil avoids bishops. Having her in his plan would only complicate things. Luckily, they would have to get her on the rare occasions she was in the base. She was either on a mission or doing her studies. While few people knew Swan was still a student, Moth was probably the only one who found out where she went. Who she truly was. It was out of necessity. If she were ever to figure him out, Moth would have to act. No matter how disgusted he would be by it, Moth would have to stop her.

"I don't know if Swan would be helpful." He shrugged, hoping they would go along with him. "She usually keeps to herself. And besides, Shark was just her escort. I doubt there was time for a chat." He smiled and shifted the subject. "I'm glad you agree. It's nice to see Beasts working together even in private." Another few Beasts unknowingly becoming his agents. He quickly raised his hands after finishing to make sure no questions were made his way. He needed to pull out before it was too late. "I hope you'll excuse me but I have a meeting to attend. Enjoy your day." He smiled, backing out towards the door.


Mantis frowned when she head Doe say her name. "I... Got the Etti part but I don't think my mouth is capable of making out your last name." She shrugged. "And it's capable of a lot." She added with a wink before she was approached by Jay.
"You're up and about." The girl smiled back at the group's mentor.
Mantis scratched the back of her head. "About. Not allowed to get up. I could get used to this, though. Being driven around. Just need someone to feed me grapes and I'm living the life of wealth and luxury."
Jay chuckled quietly at Mantis' musings. "We'll carry you around when you're out of Doe's hands." Jay paused, lowering her tone. "And I can feed you grapes..."

Mantis felt herself blushing so she instinctively went to rubbing her nose in an attempt to hide it. "That would be pretty awesome. Though, you dopey fucks will probably bang my head in the ceiling." She laughed and waved Jay off. "Why don't you go keep the rest of the kids company. I'm sure Doe is getting anxious to get me back inside."
"Sure thing." Jay nodded, almost bowing to Mantis. "You just get better." She added and skipped off after the team.
"Well..." Mantis began shakily, staring at Jay's back as she left. "I know what I'm having when I'm out of your hands." Mantis grinned up at Doe. "Grapes."
Passing her fingers through her hair, Mantis commented. "Yeah, I'll need more chemicals for this than what you're pumping into me to keep me alive." Crossing her arms on her chest, Mantis finally calmed down. With a smile and a distant gaze, she quietly added. "Thanks, Doe. It was nice to get out."


One almost violently pushed open the door to his office but froze in place when he saw Rat. He stared at the Beast for a second before looking over his shoulder and then around the door. "I expected agent Swan to be in my office - if anyone." He murmured. Rat caught him on a bad day. He lacked the patience to interact with the Beasts that day. Most of them were too complicated. Not disposable enough. He couldn't write them off or hand them over to someone else. Except maybe Doe or Gazelle. No, One would have to listen to Rat's problem.
Closing the door behind him, One headed to his desk. "Agent Rat." He began, pulling out his chair and sitting down. At least Rat wasn't as quirky as some other Beasts. As much as he enjoyed them, they were just as tiring. "I assume you need me and aren't just taking a tour of the base." He commented, opening a drawer and reaching for something. The medical report. The one Gazelle gave him. He didn't have time to read it. Things just piled up.
One looked up at Rat as his hand hovered over the report. He could give the Beast half his attention. "What did you need, agent?" One asked, retrieving the report and putting it face-down on the desk.


Crow found it difficult to focus on the conversation. He was vaguely aware of what they were talking about but he just couldn't keep up. His mind simply jumped from one thoughtless cloud to the other. He was aware, though, that he was swaying from side to side. It was subtle but gravity was winning and there wasn't much he could do to stop it. His stomach, no matter how experienced, was doing backflips as well. "Excuse me." He mumbled, backing out of the room. "I need to check up on something." He quickly added. Bed. Crow needed his bed. Either that or the cockpit.
 
Condor chuckled as O'Shea rhymed. Cerberus and Magpie. Yeah right, that would mean Cerberus would actually need to get out of his comfort zone and speak to someone else but Minotaur and Griffin. As Crow excused himself Condor nodded. "Copy that, see ya later Crow."
She looked at Mag and O'Shea. "I should get going too. I'm glad you like the report, just let me know if something's missing so I can fill out the blanks." That said she did a faux salute and left the room. Time for some R&R.

-----

Minotaur simply nodded in response to Moth's final words before leaving. He glanced at Tigris who shrugged in response. Shaking his head Minotaur looked at Armadillo. "Any idea why Moth is so invested in befriending this Shark-character?"

Mr_DC Mr_DC 0stinato 0stinato
 
After watching Moth go on his way, leaving in his wake the hanging-thought of Shark and standing-ground of a plan, Armadillo turned to his companions. It was obviously down to them now. Moth was occupied. Minotaur, Tigris and himself would have to initiate contact. Part of him was nervous; in her presentation, despite being, in Moth's mind at least, the 'newbie' of the Beasts, she was an important player to the Director. And it made sense too. With the trying time of the future, the Director might need some reliable hands on deck.

"I'm not entirely sure," Armadillo admitted, sheepish despite his lack of a reason to be so. "Usually when I talk to Moth it's about tactics. We work on opposite ends of the same field, so that's where we cross over. I suppose... we should get to know Moth as well. Either way, Shark will no doubt be a powerful ally. Outside of your team, of course, Minotaur, but still a powerful ally."

Armadillo's smile faltered a little as he scrutinised the body language of the pair. He could read that. Sometimes, a pair of crossed arms was all that stood between defiance and action.

"Let's go and make some headway with her, if you're not busy," Armadillo gestured back the way he'd just come. "We should be able to find her. In the meantime... you seem concerned about something. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping a boundary with that observation, but I'm fairly good at perceiving these things. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Armadillo began to head back the way he had come. Half of his mind was on locating Shark, and the other was on Minotaur and Tigris.



The Director was just as Rat had anticipated. He was not the kind of man to sit around and panic from the comfort of his chair, his office. If he was, he wouldn't have the enterprise. If he was, he wouldn't be tactical. If he was, he'd have been taken out long ago. No, the Director was active, and his fuel today was that tainted kind of anger that stemmed from the steaming carcass of a bad choice. Rat knew how to handle people with this active outlet: avoid them.

The Director's mood was one that had to be handled from the background. It made actions easier to anticipate - which drew Rat to the hall to begin with - but the consequences more dire. The complex of the bull and the red flag. Stand in the wrong place, you'd become part of the wallpaper.

Rat didn't like to be in the firing line.

At the moment, from the Director's point of view, Rat had come into the room and waited: he was in no danger yet. The Director was simply angry.

"I saw Swan leave," Rat said, "on my way past. I remembered I hadn't given my account of events of the last mission. My point of view. On Swan's behaviour."

He saw the Director take out the report on 'the Subject.' Still confident his Beasts would ask no questions. And he was right: the intelligent ones wouldn't ask questions. The intelligent ones would find the answers. Rat waited until the Director had laid it own before continuing. He was right not to have taken it. That came down to the Director's confidence too, Rat thought. Remembering where things were in his own space. Vital information.

"Clearly, you're in no mood for that conversation. But, be aware, I do want my opinion and view of her behaviour documented. Just in case there's something she hasn't told you. I am prepared to do this at a later date if you don't wish to hear me now." Rat looked away for a moment, then back. "As I'm here, I'd like you to know I pledge my support to you in any defence or plan regarding responding to the President's message. It was tactically naive of him to be as bold as he was. I'll be on call if you need me in this."

Rat let his stance relax slightly. The moment for formality had passed.



O'Shea and Magpie both extended their goodbyes to Crow and Condor, allowing a moment of ceasefire between them both. After that, though, O'Shea called to Magpie and, when she knew she had his full attention, threw the datapad into a graceful arc. She began laughing, drawing great pleasure from Magpie's eyes widening. He leaped into action, following the datapad and running back a few steps before jumping and fumbling the pad back into his arms.

"Oh, my God, if I hadn't caught that--" he paused to breathe. "I'd court martial you without hesitation."

O'Shea hopped up and perched herself on a bench. "I got Sharma on the armour. And hey, what do I always tell you? Back up your data. Back up, back up, back up. Back up Condor's data an' you won't get aggy over me throwing the thing. Was you never in command track? When I was a trainer, I had that shit drilled into me. Cow makes all his trainers as neurotic and anal as him." O'Shea sat up straighter as she tried to get away from her own east-London accent, attempting to mimic Cow's comparatively flat one. "Back up everyfing, do yor invuntrey, write yor reports, file yor shit, then do your invuntrey again. Almost fuckin' made us OCD."

"Yeah, I'm glad I never had to do all that. Why are we making him armour again?"

"Dunno mate. It'd be kinder to let 'im fuckin' die."

Magpie chuckled.

"And less work for us."

Magpie looked up, "Or, less work for Sharma."

O'Shea shrugged. "Yeah well... she's dangerous if she's left alone."

"Kind of like you."

"Oy! Fuckin' cheeky git. I'm not the one who was lying under molten-hot plaster inside a heavy as fuck chestpiece with no eye protection."

"You wouldn't have worn eye protection either."

"Well no, but still, I wasn't doing that, my life wasn't engendered!"

Magpie raised one eyebrow at her. "En...dangered you mean?"

O'Shea shrugged again. "Meh. I'm better with tools. Words are for nerds."



Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual
 
Getting away from the two, it was time for Moth to plan his next move. Rat could have found something - or could have been found. That would give him something to do. While Moth himself was an infiltrator, he was far too cautious to find something useful in One's office. He played it safe, checking only a drawer each time. He couldn't afford to have the Director even suspect him, let alone catch him in the act. Rat, though, was disposable. Everything he says could be denied and denied. Unless he was far too paranoid, Rat wouldn't have any evidence to present.

As Moth turned a corner, he saw her. His pray. His way in. Shark. Even from a distance, she had a certain aura around her. Perhaps it was the way she walked. She held her back straight only when she stood still. That was when she towered over everyone else. When she walked, though, Shark was ever so slightly bent forward like a bodybuilder who neglected working on their back. Like a predator lurking through the brush. While Moth was trying to pry his eyes away from the huntress, something happened that gave him a reason to stare. Panda.

Her frame was smaller than that of Shark but she still stood firmly in front of her. It was almost an image of David and Goliath. As Moth came closer, he heard what made his skin crawl. "I challenge you." Panda's flat murmur reached Moth, cutting him at the knees. He almost collapsed in shock. What the hell was she doing? Not only was Shark meant to be better but... That. That was it. She didn't believe the Director. She wanted to prove Shark was nothing special. Just a Beast with a good PR campaign. It all put Moth in a horrible situation. He would end up either with a pissed off contact or a broken key. It would take some considerable effort to crawl out of that situation unscathed. Perhaps... He could channel Panda's anger of she loses. Perhaps he could lick Shark's wounds if Panda somehow comes out victorious.

Shark, unsurprisingly, simply nodded and the two headed towards the simulation training room. The soldiers who found themselves nearby would definitely spread what was about to happen. The entire base might show up to watch the new Beast at work. Only Rat saw her in action. Hell, even Panda never challenged anyone or accepted challenges. It was an event people would pay to see. An event Moth would pay to avoid.


One frowned at the document he read while Rat spoke. It was too subjective. He did ask for Gazelle's opinion on the matter but he didn't expect her to try and school him. She was clearly conflicted. He needed someone like Wolf in the medical team. Someone who would do as he said without questioning. Someone he could trust without fearing ethical complaints. He could trust Gazelle but she was far too moral. Doe was just as bad. While Gazelle had an edge by knowing what not to talk about, she lost that edge by questioning his decisions non-stop about things she was allowed to talk about. It came from a good place but it wasn't what he needed. He would have to look into introducing Doe to project Ambrosia. See if she could keep her thoughts to herself.

Laying the document face down again, One stared at Rat. He allowed silence to set in. "Not in the mood." One repeated a part of Rat's reply. "Where would we be if I acted upon moods?" One intertwined his fingers on top of the document. "Not here. Relying on moods is such a human thing. While I'm not beyond it, I at least hope to keep them out of issues that matter." One paused and then nodded. "But thank you for your support. I'll keep that in mind in the time to come." He lowered his gaze. "I agree. It was a tactical setback." But strategically, he won the war. One kept that opinion to himself, though. There was still a chance to resist the pressure the president was going to put on him without cracking.

"What did you want to tell me about agent Swan?" One leaned back in his chair and motioned his hand. While Swan's complaints have been directed at One and about how he unnecessarily put her in danger, it seemed that her behavior triggered something in Rat. Something that he had to act on. One didn't need his infiltrators unable to work with each other. He preferred not relying on the Asian branch of the corporation if he could avoid it. They may have been his intelligence team but he ironically didn't stand their mercenary attitude towards requests.


Wolf opened the door to one of the recruit barracks. She chose the one where Cow would be. Her job required having him on board as well, as much as she disliked it. If he stood up to her in front of the recruits, she would have to take him down a peg or two and that would only complicate matters when reporting back to the Director.
The reaction of the recruits when Wolf barged in with two of her squad members was instant and predictable. Panicked looks towards her, then towards Cow, then standing up in attention. She would cackle at it if she wasn't meant to instil fear in them. Ignoring the recruits, Wolf made her was to Cow while her squad members remained by the door.
"I'm here on Director's orders." Wolf kept her tone low enough that the recruits don't hear her. "Go along with everything I say or I'll end up undermining your authority." She paused. "I won't hurt them." Wolf understood Cow's approach to recruits almost too well. It was all about who had control. Being on a job for One, though, meant she had to have control. Having a common goal meant sharing that control with Cow. It meant extending an olive branch. For now.
 
Minotaur shook his head and placed a hand on Armadillo's shoulder in a friendly manner. "No, no, sorry. It's just a habit." As he chuckled Tigris chimed in. "Once you start spending more days undercover and off the grid than you do off-duty you become inherently suspicious."

The two of them weren't lying either. To protect their team Minotaur and Tigris had set up numerous safety nets in the form of safehouses, supply caches, vehicle and weapon drops, underground stockpiles, panic rooms and so forth. Some had been established with the help of One while others were completely off the books. Why? Because when you're waist-deep in shit and every breath you make rhymes with the word 'covert' there's no cavalry coming for you, no magical backup team.

If all else failed, Fireteam Myth had only each other.

As the trio walked through the hallways Tigris looked up at Armadillo. "You still work out a lot? I was hoping to tag along, maintain my routine y'know."

0stinato 0stinato
 
"Ah, a habit," Armadillo nodded. "Hard things to break. It is no bad thing to be suspicious, but I always think it is just as important to trust people. We are Beasts, after all, selected for loyalty and talent." Feeling he was musing to himself rather than responding to the pair, he looked at them. "You know, it's just as your team trusts each other. I doubt any of you have to question that part of each other. Unless, of course, you've forced loyalty between you, which is a strategy I've seen employed before. From what I know though... it seems your dynamic is friendly. You are a lucky Beast, Minotaur, you probably have the most stability of a lot of us."

He smiled to himself, but was broken out of his reverie by Tigris' inquiry. It caught him off guard - just like when Lion had asked if he would like to accompany him and Crow to the bar for the evening. Armadillo wasn't sure how to respond for a while, owing to his own assumptions of himself and other Beasts, but knew he would enjoy working with someone. Perhaps Moth's request had sparked some surprising friendliness from the team member. He had to accept now: Armadillo knew he wouldn't know how to ask later.

"If you can keep up with my regime, you're welcome to. I've got it up publicly on the system, so people know where to find me. On non-mission days, I start my outdoor exercise at 6am after a cold shower, so it's my most rigorous two hours-- oh, excuse me." Armadillo was cut off as a line of off-duty recruits funnelled between him and the wall. Because he wasn't in his armour, he was able to move to the side to let them through. As the last one passed him, Armadillo caught them by the shoulder briefly.

"Sorry, where are you off to in such a rush?" he asked.

The recruit recognised Minotaur and Tigris immediately, and greeted them hurriedly with a brief, "Sir, ma'am," but took a moment to recognise Armadillo. Not in his armour, Armadillo was much less imposing. Although his broad frame, square jaw and low voice lent him an unshakeable air of professional strength, the round, dark eyes guarded by his glasses softened his appearance. Armadillo waited for the spark of recognition patiently.

"Oh, sorry, sir," the recruit said. "We're going to see the simulation."

"Simulation of what?"

"A duel between Agent Panda and Agent Shark, sir. A sniper duel, sir."

Armadillo's readied response of, "Be more careful where you're walking," faltered half-way through. He looked at Minotaur and Tigris. Panda had beaten them to it. "All we can do is watch," he told them. "Perhaps we can find out more about her style? Thank you, recruit. Just be careful in the corridors."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." The recruit saluted before scurrying away. An oddly professional one. Armadillo was glad he didn't deal with the recruits: he was better with his bite than his bark. He was better at acting than speaking.

"I suppose we... should watch then. We'll have to organise something with Shark another day. At least seeing her in action will be good for getting to know her." Armadillo's internal self grimaced as he realised how the statement made him sound. On the surface, it was an optimistic twist on the situation. But inside, he realised his thoughts had got the distinct flavour of Rat. Gather information. Learn. Digest. Act afterwards. It was a natural step in getting to know a new Beast - Armadillo had agreed on that with Moth, Minotaur and Tigris only minutes ago - but it was impossible for Armadillo not to picture that distasteful person when he considered watching Shark.

But he couldn't turn away from the opportunity. They would watch, they would have to.



The Director seemed calmer at least. Perhaps his emotions were suppressed by Rat's presence, or in the process of being rerouted thanks to the document he was reading. Rat wasn't prepared to make a guess: he didn't know what the document said yet. But ignorance was good in this situation. He wouldn't be giving away any signals of anxiety or knowledge. He would know soon enough. Time had to be taken, and care had to be doled out generously.

Rat couldn't stop an eyebrow from twitching as the Director made a point about never acting on his moods. His mouth was open before he knew it, but his certainty was behind his words all the same. "Inaccurate. We are exactly where we are because you do act on moods. Constantly. You did it five minutes ago with the recruits."

He spoke with a dry, purposeful tone. But patient. He was right about one thing at least: he wasn't above it. It was difficult to rise above. And the Director wasn't him: he considered Swan and his behaviour and saw her react to her emotions, but only remembered himself acting within the bounds of absolute professionalism and expectation. He'd worked with Armadillo without complaint on that mission, and that was proof. He had opinions of the girl, and they outweighed his emotions entirely. He stood in front of the Director to tell him about those opinions. But he would do it with dry eyes and a steady pulse.

"Swan did the same. Allowed her emotions to control her, instead of following the direction of her escort. Now we know there were hired mercenaries on the field, I'm glad I took the precautions I thought it necessary to take, or she'd be dead. But instead of listening to and following my orders, she broke cover and threatened her own life. I refuse to work with her if such behaviour continues. If she can't control herself, she should be put into Cow's programme, as a recruit, and start from the bottom, because she's clearly not entirely ready to be your understudy. That's all."

Rat watched the Director, aware of his antagonistic stance to Swan. But he was right: Swan shouldn't have the Director's favour if she couldn't control herself. Calculating and emotional didn't go together. Emotion was the fertiliser of spiritualism and panic. Neither of them was useful. And yet this whole headquarters - or at least anyone who mattered - made it a habit to act when that tap was open.



Usually seeing Wolf on his turf meant she was here to a) steal a recruit away without his authority, b) not listen to his advice if he gave it and c) not do her paperwork regarding the recruit. In fact, seeing her was rare. Usually, a recruit just went missing and Cow would know only by his own scrutiny or via a trainer telling him one of them didn't show up for training. It exhausted him. The cycle exhausted him. But what could he do about it, nothing. He wasn't about to go and beat her up, because he couldn't, and kindly asking her to do her sodding paperwork never did anything. No, it was easiest if he accepted it and did it for her.

So it was a surprise when she headed directly to him as soon as she entered. He had assumed she'd walk on past, or snatch someone. In fact, he was waiting for it. She'd lost a member of her squad, after all, so Cow assumed it was only a matter of time. But here she was.

A rare shred of optimism pulsed in his blood: maybe she was here to get one, but didn't know who would be best. Maybe the infallible Wolf was ready to admit she could use his advice. He looked back to the recruits he was addressing. There he was: the one he had earmarked for Wolf or Minotaur. He was aggressive but had an eagerness to please. Not to please Cow or any of the trainers, but to please One, the Program, and its assets. He talked like he knew more than Cow, to which Cow would disassemble his argument with a disinterested sigh. Just the kind of insufferable arsehole Wolf would go in for.

But then the optimism died. The recruits were looking at him as he listened to her. He turned his head to her slowly, hating her threat, and kept his eyes on her for a moment or two before scrutinising the two squad members by the door. She wasn't here to ask him anything. She was here to do what she usually did.

"Undermine my authority, with those two?" he muttered, meaning her squad members. "This is my slaughterhouse, and they grew up in it." He rolled his neck and shrugged, fatigued. "But I appreciate you notifying me first..."

That wasn't a lie. He did appreciate it. But he would have appreciated it a thousandfold if she was going to tell him why she was here.

But she was Wolf. She wasn't going to.

"Well, let me be nice and warm up the crowd for you."

He didn't wait for her answer as he left her side and neared a wall, striking his arm down to unleash the collapsible baton from its housing in his wrist armour. He slammed it against the wall, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "Wolf's here from the top. So you know what to do. Listen."

He slid the baton away and leaned on the wall, folding his arms. He didn't have to tell her the floor was hers.


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One started reading the document again when Rat began speaking but he soon stopped. By commenting on his behavior, Rat gained One's undivided attention. One waited, though. He didn't interrupt, he simply put away the document and stared at Rat. When the infiltrator finished, One nodded. It was his turn to speak. Allowing a beat to pass, One stood up. He pushed his chair back to the desk. He moved slowly, taking his time as he moved around the desk. The silence hung in the air but One made sure to make his moves smooth rather than sharp. Finally, he stood in front of Rat.

"Not even going to ask for permission to speak freely?" He asked. Clasping his hands behind his back, One nodded. "Well, that's your opinion." One commented casually. "One which I disagree with but that's not the point." He added. "The point right now is your comments on Swan. They are valid but..." One looked to the side. "You proposed a 'solution' to her behavior. You do know that my job is to manage you? As much as one can manage a herd of hot-headed apes constantly pounding their chests to establish physical or-" One motioned at Rat. "Mental dominance. Allow me to take you a step back." One started as he paced around Rat.

"Swan has the ability to wrap people around her little finger. That is what she's good at. That's what she's still learning. Not running through gunfire. Not thinking tactically. The only reason she is active in the field is that she needs to learn how to act under stress. Simulated stress. I put people I trust around her. People who I expect to keep her alive. The fact that she is still alive in spite of cracking is not because you surpassed my expectations. You simply met them." One went to his desk and leaned back against it, crossing his arms on his chest.
"When we go to Russia, all those generals and politicians fight amongst each other to get her attention. She makes them feel interesting. Important. She makes them think someone cares about their insignificant lives. I may be a friend to the emperor but she starts political infighting for invitations." Slowly raising a finger to point at Rat, One continued. "I'm sure she could do the same with you if given the order. Make you feel smarter than the rest. Feed that starving ego which just made you speak more than you should have."

Pushing himself away from the desk, One went to finish his monologue. "She's great at being a diplomat and a spy but she's not great under pressure. That's her fault. She's not a perfect soldier. You are great at infiltration but you don't appreciate authority. You're not a perfect soldier either." There was a knock on the door but One ignored it. He needed to finish his point. "She couldn't control herself but you failed to control your mouth right now. You... Are no different to her." Intertwining his fingers with a smirk, One shrugged. "Excluding the inappropriate approach, thank you for your input." The knock happened again and One raised a hand to stop Rat from speaking. "Come in." He raised his voice.

It was one of the two guards of One's office. The soldier was simply poking his head in. "Sir. Agent Panda challenged special agent Shark. They are about to duel."
"Thank you. Close the door." He instructed and took a step away from the desk, towards the door. When the soldier did as told, One looked at Rat. "I should go and watch the perfect soldier. Anything you want to add?" One smirked. He knew the situation he put Rat in. Tempting him into saying something more. Something even further out of line. Perhaps even something that would warrant disciplinary measures.


Wolf let Cow do his thing. It was better for the Program that way. It maintained the stability if he handed her what she needed instead of her simply taking it from him. As useless as he was, recruits questioning him would only lead to even more useless soldiers than what Cow was training up already. And so, Cow handed her the attention of his recruits. It was up to her to pass One's message along. She would have to make them believe it was Wolf who was crushing their whispers while One didn't give a damn. "Some of you heard what the president had to say."

She raised her hand high, open palm towards the recruits. "Some heard what the Director said. Those ignorant among you who don't follow the news - there's some political chatter going on. One isn't worried about it. I am worried. Worried you might get the wrong impression. So here's the gist of it. The Director says there's nothing to worry. I say that you shouldn't start panic. You start a panic..." She closed her hand into a fist, still keeping it raised. "I'll make sure One doesn't find out what I did with your corpse." Spreading her arms, Wolf raised her voice. "How's that for a fucking deal?" She had to throw a curse in there. Just another inch of distance between what she was doing at One's order. One was the cool head at the top, she was the fire burning away anything eating at the Program's stability. "They're dismissed." She grumbled at Cow, handing him back their attention.
 
Minotaur was caught a bit off guard by Armadillo's compliment. "I appreciate the kind words but I just do my job and make sure that my team survives at the end of the day."

Tigris grinned. "I think I'll manage, big guy. I'll see you tomorrow then." Just as she finished the trio bumped into the recruit who informed them of the sniper duel. Minotaur and Tigris looked at each other with a special look only they knew the meaning of. When Armadillo proposed watching the fight the two of them nodded.

"Time to see what this Shark-character is like," said Minotaur.
 
"I would joke about taking notes, but something tells me we might have to..." Armadillo felt his jovial attitude was unpractised, but he tried to follow the joke through all the same. "It's a shame I didn't bring a pen." He patted his trouser pockets to emphasise the point. "Nothing but air."

The volume of recruits was increasing all the way. Fortunately, they let through any Beast eager to see the fight. There was that at least: they knew what the armour meant, and they knew what the titles meant. They were pliant, especially to three Beasts moving through them at once. Although it was uncommon for a recruit to speak roughly to the Beasts - apart from Cow, who got it daily judging by his complaints - it was even less likely any recruit would protest more than one. Armadillo thought about it. That was another reason why Moth's suggestion would be a good thing: bonding Shark to the established Beasts would give her a support she currently lacked.

Although... Armadillo felt he lacked that same thing too.

The reasons were different though. Shark had the enigmatic intimidation around her. Armadillo, on the other hand, was never sure what to say to people.

"Let's get a good vantage point, so we can get to know her abilities," he said. That was the right thing to say, he reckoned. It was a good suggestion.



Most of what the Director said Rat already knew about. But he was wrong. Talent in one area, no matter how important, did not excuse her from putting the life of herself and two Beasts on the line that day. She needed to go back to basic training, because she wasn't doing half of what the recruits were doing. Training taught idiots to think like generals. It taught them to look at the ceiling when sweeping a room, it taught them to never ignore a glare of light on a reflective object, it taught them to triple-check the firearms in their hands before they unleashed themselves on the fields. It taught them to see the dangerous areas on the field, and taught them when they ought to group up and when they ought to spread out. It taught them not to break from cover and run into gunfire wearing only the clothes from the back of the wardrobe.

Talent was secondary to the basics. Did the man not understand it?

But it was throwaway. Unimportant. The Director was talking about Swan, but Swan's mental file didn't need updating in Rat's head. Instead, the infiltrator found himself updating the Director's. Here he was, revering Swan, in front of a man who also knew how to manipulate. In front of a man who could recite another person's information as if it was a hymn.

As for the inappropriate input... and Rat's apparent failure to control his mouth... those were the Director's twisted little views. Rat was calm when he delivered his verdict, and the Director's response was not one of consideration or even rejection. It was defensive. Untrained. Incorrect.

Oh... but wasn't that it?

What had the Director prioritised? Who did he prioritise? Wolf - the brute who followed him without a thought. And Wolf had Bear, someone so stupid he couldn't form an opinion and was forced to go along unquestioningly with hers.

Unquestioningly.

That was it, wasn't it?

Beasts' value was undoubtedly put on their loyalty. Their ability to think was secondary. Swan's ability was tied to loyalty, because she hadn't learned to think. And the Director's defence of her... was his own loyalty to her.

Rat realised he was staring at the Director, who had carried on moving; Rat's eyes had followed him on autopilot while his brain had become sidetracked. He had missed something the Director said. Frustrating... he could only hope it wasn't important. He blinked when the Director asked him that last question... a question one would ask a child.

Rat slowly held up his hands. He had to submit. But he kept his pale brown eyes on the Director, like prey not willing to look away from the teeth of the predator. "Tell me how I'm supposed to be loyal to you when I can't give you my advice, even when I believe you could have used it. I'm willing to walk and talk, so you don't... miss the fight. Just tell me. Tell me what Swan is doing right that I'm doing wrong."

The last word he spoke made him grimace internally. Wrong. No, he wasn't wrong... the system here wasn't right. But here he was, and he had to play to the system. Had to follow the instructions, avoid being contrary. That was what loyalty was, according to the Director. Rat lowered his hands and raised his chin a little, setting his features in an expression of attention as he looked the Director in the face expectantly.



"God, Wolf..." Cow muttered to himself as she finished. He pushed himself away from the wall, hit it once with a fist, and looked over the recruits. "Back to normal, basically. Whatever the hell's going on, it's not your thing to worry about... you know what," Cow made a shooing motion with his hand. "Get out of my sight, I'd rather continue this when you're all focused again."

From what he was seeing, Wolf's stirring of the pot had unsettled some of the recruits. Still, it was - probably - an important message. Cow didn't know. He could think about it, if he wanted. He could watch those channels, read those columns, talk to those people, but it was all pointless. All it was was arguing about who said what, and who had the money, and who could press what buttons, and whose name was on a bit of paper, and who spoke better, and who could get into what rooms, and who lived at what address, and who was allowed to do and who was allowed to not do. Whatever that meant.

The only po-li-tic Cow cared about was the po-li-tic of his cowshed: the barracks. Because in here, he was the guy who did.

"Wolf, wait a moment, would you? I hope you've not found someone to replace that guy who died on your team, because I have the perfect guy for the position," he held up a hand to tell her to wait, then looked back to the dispersing recruits. They were quiet, possibly out of fear of Wolf... well, all except a few. One even laughed.

"McKeown! Get over here. Not done with you."

Admittedly, the recruit had one of the best names Cow had ever come across. Cormac McKeown, Private, 1887255. Wisconsin-born, bully-trained. Destined for command track if neither Wolf nor Minotaur had a use for him. He had that straight back that promised a good soldier, but had the ooze which let him schmooze as he saw fit. Cow didn't like him because he tried to schmooze. And Cow knew McKeown didn't like him, because his schmoozing had failed.

Cow scrutinised the recruit as he drew close, then looked round to Wolf, gesturing to McKeown like he was a mess Bear had left on the floor. "Give him a run on your squad, would you? I've had him marked as a potential for you for months. I can't stand him anymore. Please. Wolf. I hate him. Take him. I'll even do the paperwork voluntarily this time." He pulled his features into his best exaggerated version of a pity-me-pout as he looked at Wolf.


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The annoyance or even anger which was present in One's voice until that point disappeared. It was replaced with something that sounded too much like sympathy. Rat was still one of his soldiers. They all needed a firm word from time to time and some even needed to be punished but that didn't change the fact that One did it because he cared for them. Even the most vocally opposed Beasts like Panda didn't get thrown out for breaking the rules.

"This isn't about you and Swan, Rat. You told me your worries about her and I appreciate that but there is a time, place, and way to say things. You need to think about how you say things or you'll often find yourself asking the wrong questions..." One took a deep breath. "You are doing your job right. She is doing her job right. Asking what she's doing right and you aren't is like comparing you to Mantis. Or Bear. Or any other Beast." Leaning on the door, One looked away from Rat.

"Each of you requires individual management. It's not easy to herd all of you and I make mistakes. I don't mind my mistakes pointed out to me so I can avoid repeating them. What I mind is those mistakes being barked at me in a personal tone." He took another deep breath. "Look... I know you don't need lessons in how to deal with people, you're good at bending people to your will. You wouldn't be an infiltrator if you weren't. I also appreciate you thinking highly enough of me not to try and manipulate me. Just take some time to think and find a balance to strike. I don't want you to lie but I don't want you to talk to me like we've been friends for years. Understood?" He asked in a much less confrontational tone than he had before. As anxious as he was to see Shark go up against Panda, One was willing to stay and keep going through the situation with Rat.


"I'm not here to take your trash, Cow." Wolf frowned, hands on hips. "Why would I trust you to know what I need?" She asked but it was a jab with no weight behind it. Both of them knew that it was Cow's job to determine who among the recruits would be best suited for what. While Wolf picked her own based on the reputation of the recruits, Cow spent all of his time hovering over the recruits. Hell, Cow knew who would be best for Wolf's team better than she did. Even before Cow called over the recruit, Wolf started getting ready to test Cow's claim. With her hand on her hip, she removed the clip from her handgun and stored it in one of the smaller ammo pouches on her armor.

Wolf scoffed when the recruit approached. She... Wasn't impressed. She wasn't expecting Cow to give her another Bear but the only thing she could judge him on was outstanding physical appearance and there was nothing outstanding about the man. "And you're meant to be useful for me?" She talked down to him. "Wonder if you'll throw up when you realize how well the burning corpses of your fellow man smell." She leaned in, dropping her tone to a whisper. "Or if you could stand the smell of burning hair. The sight of melting faces." Wolf's expression went stiff behind her visor. She looked almost like a skeleton. Cold eyes, sunken features, the darkness inside her helmet turning every pore into a crater.

"But you're not backing out now." Wolf straightened her back, tone returning to its usual sharpness. "Let's see if you're actually useful for me." She unholstered her handgun and offered it to the recruit. "Kill. Someone. Anyone. Kill one of the recruits you don't like. Hell, kill two. Three. Just kill."
 
Backing off had been the right move. As much as Rat felt like he had rolled over and exposed a vulnerability, he reminded himself that it was all false. The Director was reassuring what didn't need to be reassured. But if that would pacify him, if that would make him feel like he was in command of the situation, then that was better for Rat. He kept quiet while the Director spoke, keeping any more 'personal' opinions to himself. The Director couldn't understand his objective decisions, his professional opinion, his methods of saying it.

But it was time to end the engagement. Rat had information to look over: a document, a picture, and some new discoveries into the Director's persona.

He looked away from the Director, as if he was thinking about the man's words and digesting them. Roll over and accept it. There was no point trying to assert himself. The Director held all the important cards. He held whether Rat would live or die. That was truer than Rat liked to admit: all it would take would be an icy frown from the Director and a summons for Wolf's crew. Rat wouldn't have time to widen his eyes before she set in on him.

Rat looked back.

"I will present my objective opinions to you to be constructive, by no means do you have to take them. You command me, and you command Swan, and all the others... you... know best. That's the fact of it. And I'm like you, in that sense, if I'm correct. Preferring to work with facts than... the alternative. No assumptions, no conjecture, no biases. As far as I can. You've made yourself... clear."

Rat gestured the door. "I'd like to watch Agent Shark's methods, also. So I can understand her better next time I work with her," he said.

There was something strange in the Director's standing point in this fight. He was told of it just before it began by one of his guards. He was out of the loop, even about his most cherished Beast. Shark, his new plaything, was involved in something he had not okayed, or was even involved in.

Rat remembered the Director's claims though after Shark had revealed herself in the armour when they were all gathered: fight her, she'll accept. And Panda had challenged her.

Rat reckoned he would be watching Panda just as much as Shark; Panda's choice had to be analysed. Where had her curiosity come from? Where had her confrontation come from? Why was she challenging Shark now, and not at the beginning like the Director had encouraged?

The infiltrator wasn't about to move before the Director did though. He would follow the Director to the scene of Panda's decision, but he wasn't about to make the first move to leave the room. It was the Director's room, the Director's headquarters, the Director's Program. Rat couldn't bluff against that. So he waited. He would follow. For now.



"Oh, well, usually you just flutter in here and pick up my trash of your own accord. Thought the least you could want is some hand-selected shit for a change..." Cow's eyes followed Wolf's firearm as she removed its ammunition. For a second, he was concerned she was taking it out to shoot either him or McKeown, which would be immensely annoying for him, but as she put it away he only became more confused. Still, he backed away and watched as Wolf advanced on McKeown.

Her method of short-term hazing wasn't seeming to phase McKeown. There he stood, jaw jutted out in defiance. That was a face Cow had come to recognise. It was a common expression by some of the wanna-be-dominant recruits. Most of them didn't like having to listen to a trainer, but they knew the consequences for not listening. The more they pushed against the authority upon them, the more Cow pushed back. If a recruit was defiant, non-compliant or aggressive, Cow would stay close to the recruit and coax, gaslight, and bully them. He would target them, torment them, taunt them. It resulted either in a slow-burn haze, or allow him to react against a recruit's outburst.

In this situation, he never swung first. He'd make the recruit lose it first.

McKeown hadn't reached that stage, thankfully. Cow didn't have to haze him. He was intelligent enough to see the futility of it. But he stayed contrary in attitude.

Cow glanced to the side to see bunches of recruits curious about Wolf's intimidating interview of McKeown. So when he looked back to Wolf, to see her hand McKeown her gun, his eyes narrowed. But her words cleared things up.

"Ahh..." he let the realisation make sense of the situation. It was a test. And a decent one.

Cow was just glad the gun was empty.

He brought his hand up to scratch his neck, as if casual about the situation Wolf had presented. It was her test for him: Cow wasn't involved.

He saw McKeown glance over at him, not putting away that defiant jaw. All Cow did was twitch an eyebrow in response. Not my choice.

McKeown looked at the gun, then at Wolf, and stepped away from her to raise it. But he was pointing behind her. At one of Wolf's team stationed by the door. He didn't even look at the recruits. He pulled the trigger, his wrist steady, and Cow even saw his body prepare for the kickback... that didn't come. His expression softened as this happened, but then he narrowed his eyes at Wolf.

"Permission to load it, sir," he said. "So I can do this test properly."

As disgusted as Cow was that McKeown didn't realise the gun wasn't loaded by its weight, he kept his expression neutral. He occupied himself with pulling a cigarette out of its case and tucking it behind his ear. He knew he'd need one after this.


Mr_DC Mr_DC
 
"Good." One nodded and opened the door to let Rat out. "Let's watch the fight then." He added and exited the office as well, motioning for his guards to stay put and not follow him. He wasn't in any sort of danger. He was going to Shark, after all. Panda might be a bitter loser but she was smart enough not to overreact. The worst she could do was claim her loss was a fluke. Heading towards the training room, One knew exactly how to disarm her arguments if she lost.

Panda and Shark were there already, accompanied by a dozen soldiers. They were all eager to see Shark in a fight. They were probably as eager to see Panda work her magic. Most of them knew her only as the lightning bolt from gods that struck down any enemy who seemed to be giving trouble. That image was about to be broken. Shark was going to bring her down to her knees. Make her give up on her futile attempts to sabotage One's authority at every turn.

One looked around the room, examining the settings on the three big screens, one projected above the training pods, on every wall except for the one they entered.
Urban environment, populated by non-targets, standard pain limit... The settings were fair. Both of them would have equal changes in such settings if their skills weren't a factor.
"Now that's a bit too easy." One said, motioning towards the screens. "You're gonna need every edge you can get, agent." One turned to Panda. He knew he was getting her blood boiling but that was the point. He wanted to raise the stakes. He wanted her to give it her best.

"Snow." One motioned and the settings changed. "Agent Panda gets a height advantage." The settings changed again. "Extremely low temperatures, ES-45 sniper rifles, heightened pain thresholds, no armor." One paused to see if there were any complaints. Both of them were silent.
On Panda's end, she believed One was too confident. He gave her all the advantages she could want. It would lessen her victory but she wasn't about to object One. It would be his own hubris that brought down his best.

One waited a few more seconds before motioning at two pods. They resembled some futuristic stasis tanks. A merger of a massage chair with an MRI machine and a sprinkle of high-tech magic. "Get ready and enter the simulation." He gave his permission. A part of him was worried. A part of him didn't like the small risk. Didn't like the effect it might have on Shark. He was confident she could do it but... There was always the risk.

The two Beasts removed their armor, dressed only in the fatigues they wore under it. Both of them gave each other the same blank stare before entering the pod. Quietly, One made note of Shark's improved tone. She looked far healthier, something that Gazelle noted in her report. The two pods soon closed, the Beasts seemed to enter deep sleep, and the projections which previously showed the settings turned black. Their fight was about to begin.


Wolf scoffed. He had balls, she had to give him that. He had balls. "You little fuck..." Wolf growled, taking the gun and loading it again. Cow chose well but there were some rough edges she'd need to buff out. "You're in but..." She wrapped her arm around the recruit's shoulders and began leading him to the door, gun still in hand. "I'm gonna teach you some manners. Explain how things work in my team." She said, looking over his shoulder at Cow. She wasn't happy with his choice. It wasn't quite the right kind of approach she wanted in her team but she could work with him. If nothing else, send him on suicide tasks until he's working as she wanted.
 
The walk over to the sim-room was brief mostly silent as Minotaur, Tigris and Armadillo eventually made their way to it. Once there Minotaur and Tigris pushed past several recruits, throwing angry glares at those who hesitated to step aside, as to secure a spot on the metaphorical front row. From there they watched as Panda and Shark got into their respective pods while the screens up top showed the simulated battleground.

Tigris glanced over to her superior. "So...how do you think it'll turn out?"
Minotaur glanced at Tigris before turning his attention to One. "Quick, intense and extremely one-sided if One's expression is to go by."

Tigris raised an eyebrow and studied One herself before looking back at Minotaur. "What expression? He looks neutral to me."
"Exactly," replied Minotaur.

"He's not worried or anxious. He already knows how it's going to end."

Mr_DC Mr_DC 0stinato 0stinato
 
"I think we want her to win," Armadillo said to the pair. "If she wins, we'll know what we're up against, and working with. Although, this isn't quite her area... still, we should hopefully get some insight..."

They would have to rely on their experience when watching Shark and Panda. Their collective database of Panda, and their untouched white page of Shark. Anything would be useful. Armadillo settled, much more comfortable in his workout gear than in his armour, and brought his hand to his chin in thought. What was the best way of doing it?

"We ought to try to dissect what she's doing. How she moves, where she chooses cover, her accuracy and her ability to adapt to the situation. Especially that last one. Adaptability is crucial. We know... she's going to be good at this. The Director mentioned she could take over all of our positions, so she'll have experience with the sniper. The only rogue element here is Panda."

Once again, Armadillo was struck by that note of jealousy, and with it came a strike of frustration. He wasn't Rat. He didn't have a limitless capacity to work out what even Panda's movements would be, or how likely it was Shark would win. All he had was the vaguest grasp of what to look for, and what it might mean. As if there was a cap on his intelligence.

He would do what he could. He wasn't Rat. That was just the fact.

He gave a sharp sigh, let his brow fall into a scowl and narrowed his eyes at the screens. He would do what he could.



The devil on the other side of the room wasn't feeling much more confident. Rat had scuttled away from the Director to give both of them space. Rat chose an area near the wall, away from everyone, already disliking the volume of people. There was that feeling in his chest, that they might all turn their heads straight towards him. That the room felt bigger than it was. The screen didn't help either. There they were, showing their wide-open battleground. Nowhere to hide... not really. Not from the tracking AI, at least. That always saw both of them.

He breathed, huffing through his teeth into the room. He had to settle down. The Director had ruffled Rat in the office; not through what he said, but through what Rat was realising about him. What the Program stood for, and what kind of person you had to be to rise in its ranks. It all made sense really. It explained why Wolf was at the top, and why which Beasts fell into the categories they did, not in terms of clearance level, but the Director's preferences. He had to swallow that.

The room wasn't making it easier to settle down either. So Rat clouded his visor for a few moments while the screens were being set up. Its orange tint went from transparent to opaque, frosted, enclosing. It gave Rat a moment to be alone, alone in his armour with nothing but his memories.

With this moment of peace, he brought up the memory files on his helmet. The document from the Director's desk. The photo from the Director's bedroom. He had them positioned to the side of his visor, underneath the feeds of the cameras around base.

He chose the document first. He would watch Shark, and he would read what the Director had read. He would be on the same level, at least in this. Gazelle's report might be imperative to his understanding of the new Special Agent. After all... Gazelle ranked higher than Rat in most things. To have her insight, even through espionage, was one step closer.

He cleared his visor and looked at the screens, more comfortable with his place in the world at the moment. He was buoyed up by what he had, and by what he was about to receive. For the moment, before the fight began, he read the document. Saw it signed off by Gazelle. Time to concentrate.



For a few moments, as Wolf walked away with her prey, Cow watched her. When they made eye contact, he felt the need to act. He took a breath, turned to the remaining recruits in the room, the ones curious enough about McKeown's fate to stay and watch, and flung his hand out.

"I said, dismissed, I want this room clear of all you idiots for an hour." He shouted across the room, watched them walk away, and looked back to Wolf.

What exactly did she think she was doing?

With a growl, Cow started towards her. "Hey, Wolf, I'm not letting you take him out of this building before he's officially yours. Teach him a lesson under your jurisdiction, not while he's still under mine. Not having a repeat of last time."

As he drew nearer, Cow brought up the form. He had filled this in numerous times, especially for Wolf. With her tendency to vulturise his herd, he was always filling it in. He had gone so far to create a separate form just for Wolf's takings. One that didn't require the Beast to sign off on it. Cow could do it on her behalf, with his scrawled, clumsy digital signature. But today, he wanted her to go through the normal one. Since she was here.

He might get some proper paperwork off her yet.

"I'm not going to let you walk out of here," he said, tapping the screen and selecting options from dropdown menus. He didn't have to look up as he typed in McKeown's recruit number, "without this being done." He glanced at Wolf. "Beat his arse on your turf."

McKeown gave a shocked scoff, "Beat... because I did what she asked? Or tried to?"

Cow looked at Wolf, eyes full of nothing but neutrality. "Yes. Sign there, Wolf." He turned the screen round to her. He looked at McKeown again. "You're a clever kid. Perhaps think about what you've heard about Wolf over the time you've been here. Then shut your mouth, and fall in line."


Mr_DC Mr_DC Viper Actual Viper Actual
 
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The air was knocked out of Panda's chest but shocked back the next instant by the freezing cold. Her body was out, laying in that pod. Her mind was transported to a frozen arena. She had a few extra moments on Shark. Being put into a simulation for the first time always caught everyone off guard. Unless where ever One fished Shark from also had a state-of-the-art simulation system, she would be out of action for a few precious seconds. Enough time for Panda to prepare.

The snow was untouched and thick. Such blinding whiteness that even Panda stood out in the middle of it. The only colors in the frozen landscape were long-dead trees and several boulders. Natural cover created by the simulation. She would have to put them to use.
Panda had no idea how cold it was but every gust of the wind shaved away at her body temperature. Being without her armor meant her time in the simulation was limited. The longer the fight went on, the lower her efficiency. It would only be a matter of time before her body went too rigid to pull the trigger. At least it will be over quickly without their armor. One shot would put either of them down.

Panda rushed to a nearby boulder on the slope to the vast valley below. Shark was bound to take a more aggressive approach which meant she would be walking into her sight at any moment.
She cleared the snow behind the boulder and settled her rifle by it. It was yet another edge she had. It was the rifle she knew better than anyone else. Spent almost a year designing it to perfection. Even made the prototype herself. The rifle was an extension of her body and that was something Shark couldn't match.
Laying down, Panda steeled herself. It was time to wait.


Shark gasped and fell to her knees. The world was a blur of mostly white. She was in the base one moment and... Elsewhere the next. The vision became clearer when the wind blew through her. It was like she wasn't even corporeal. The wind chilled her insides, her bones, her mind. As much as it helped her snap back, it also made things brutally clear - if the fight didn't end quickly, she would freeze to death.
Pushing herself back to her feet, Shark examined the rifle. A modern model but new. She couldn't expect it to behave like the most recent sniper she used. She couldn't go after Panda without getting to know her weapon.

Putting the rifle up to her shoulder, Shark aimed down the sights. It would give up her general location but that was a minor advantage. Panda was bound to spot her in the snow with ease regardless. Shark aimed at a branch of a tree on the other side of the valley. A branch with a thick tree a smaller distance behind it. Adjusting her aim, Shark slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger.


Panda froze. A gunshot. Could Shark have spotted her already? Was she that good? The bullet didn't hit her or anywhere near her. She didn't hear it fly by either. Was Shark counting on her to take cover and reveal herself through movement? Panda scanned the area, keeping her movements limited. The gunshot came from the dead forest, if it could be called a forest. The dry trees were positioned more densely than the rest of the area. It seemed like a fair place to start Shark in.
Panda watched the forest with a frown while shifting her rifle ever so slowly.

She looked through the scope and searched for any movement. For anything that didn't belong there. It would be easier to hide behind so many trees but they weren't any sort of cover. At least Panda's boulder could stop a bullet.
Panda's heart skipped a beat. There she was. The supposed best soldier - running among the trees. She wasn't even trying to keep a low profile. The only clever thing she was doing was taking cover behind the occasional tree.
There was no time to waste, no opportunity to pass up on. Panda put her finger on the trigger and aimed at the next tree Shark would hide behind.
She pulled the trigger moments before Shark would reach it.


Shark knew how the rifle behaved. She wouldn't need many shots to take Panda down. The only problem was finding her. That was what made snipers difficult. It was an added difficulty that Panda's location was likely scaled to her benefit. Though... That made things easier at the same time. Panda had to be on an advantageous position. Higher than Shark. A spot with cover.
She looked up through the forest at the hill. Panda had to be there somewhere, no doubt training her sights on the source of the gunshot. Looking around, Shark decided she couldn't hide. Not well, at least. Burying herself beneath snow could work but it would speed up the clock and she didn't know where Panda was. No, she would have to take a different approach.

Securing the rifle in her hands, Shark started running as best as she could through the snow. She took cover behind every tree between her and the hill but sometimes stopping for longer and sometimes just running past. She needed to draw Panda out. Make her act. There shouldn't be anything more attractive for a hunter than seeing their prey so careless. So easy to take down. She was a hunter and she wouldn't miss an opportunity. Especially when she was on a freezing timer.

And she took it. The bullet cut through the log, sending splinters flying on the other end. Shark, though, was already a step ahead of it. She was already past the tree and heading towards the next, making sure to repeatedly change her running speed.
When the bullet passed through the tree, she looked back, taking a quick mental note of the splinters on the ground. It wasn't enough.
A second gunshot. The bullet flew before Shark, that time. She turned on her heel and began running the other way, taking another quick look at the snow. She could see the bullet hole but that was it. Still not enough.

Two more bullets headed for Shark but neither of them not enough. Both missed, both frustrated her opponent. Shark changed directions after every shot and Panda was rapidly going through her magazine. She would have to reload in three more shots. Just three more shots. The next shot was another miss. Shark wasn't feeling the cold - she was burning her energy, keeping her body in optimal working order. Burning bright but faster.

Another shot. A streak of blood fell on the snow. It was a serious wound. Fatal if she didn't get assistance but only slightly more deadly than the freezing cold. It cut right through her stomach, destroying the speed she had. Shark stumbled, stopped, and threw herself back, looking away from her attacker and towards the blood-splattered bullet hole in the snow. As the final shot in Panda's magazine flew over where Shark was before she fell, Shark allowed a smirk to escape. It was enough.


Panda breathed a sigh of relief when the snow was finally red. She had to settle for a body shot. Non-vital. There was no way she could kill her with one shot with the way she was moving. Wounded and bleeding, Shark would be trivial to take down. The final opportunity presented itself when Shark stumbled and stopped. It would be a chest shot. Either a shot killing her instantly or completely taking her out of the fight.

Tensing up, Panda fired. It didn't connect - Shark threw herself back. She wouldn't be getting back up and running. Not with the wound she had. Panda just had to reload and end her. Her movements were optimal. She didn't waste a moment with her reload. She knew the gun perfectly, after all.
Looking back down the scope, Panda felt her a chill. One not connected to the environment. It was a horrifying image - Shark's emotionless face against the scope, her rifle pointed right at Panda.

Panda was fast. She rolled to the side but the bullet that followed shattered her scope to pieces. She could still win without a scope but... Shark knew exactly where she was. How? How did she know her exact position? It wasn't the sound. The sound had to give her only a general idea.
Gulping, Panda ran the fight through her head. As Panda realized her mistake, desperation washed over her. She made a mistake. Fell for a trap. A lure. It was a risky move but it worked. The situation changed. Panda was the hunted and Shark knew exactly where she was. She couldn't move. Couldn't even start running from her prone position.

Clenching her teeth, Panda poked her hand out above her rifle. She quickly withdrew it but there was no bullet. It was as comforting as it was terrifying. Shark was wounded which meant she wouldn't have time to waste. She was coming for her. It would only be a matter of time before Shark appeared above Panda. She had to put down the beast. She wouldn't give her the victory.

Poking her hand out one more time, this time for longer, Panda was certain that Shark was on the move. She rolled back out of her cover and looked down her rifle, finding the spot where she had last seen Shark.
Panda went numb when she realized she had been played again. Shark was still there. Still lying in the snow. Still aiming her rifle. Panda saw the flash but couldn't get herself to even try and move.


In the simulation room, everyone watched the fight go on over the screens. The one in the center showed an overview of the entire area while the other two each showed the fight from the perspective of one of the fighters.
Finally over, One crossed his arms on his chest. Shark won. It would be about a minute until they were fully out of the simulation so he would take time to enjoy his victory in silence. He allowed a smug smirk to surface and overshadow the scowl he had when Shark was wounded.

She was clever. She used Panda's eagerness, her desire for victory. In the end, it was a trade of flesh but Shark ultimately ended up on top. She helped One prove she was the finest soldier. Anyone who doubted her in the future would face the same fate. He only needed a few more challengers to fail and she would earn the reputation he gave her.
When the fight ended, the soldiers that gathered didn't cheer. There were no bets being made before the fight. No one knew what to expect. No one knew who they should root for. Panda was the best sniper and Shark was a newcomer.



Wolf scoffed. She didn't like Cow throwing around his weight. Signing wasn't the hard part. The difficulty was with Cow thinking he could order her around. Tell her what to do. "So, you'd rather keep him?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Now that you told him how much his life is worth to you? Now that he knows you'd let me take him out back and shoot him between the eyes for a single signature?" She crossed her arms on her chest. "You'd be willing to prohibit him from joining my group and have him resent you... All for a signature?"

She smirked, enjoying the little game. A poke here, a push there. Just enough to maintain the balance. She came respectfully, did her job, and relaxed. "Fine, fatass." She took the form, signing it. "Here, now you can finally get off to something." She snorted and grabbed the recruit by the back of the neck. "Now let's go. You're officially my new chew toy."
 
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