#and i just think that kai and simmons should interact more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secretlystephaniebrown · 7 years

Text

Time’s Running Out: Kilo

IT'S STILL THE SECOND IN MY TIME ZONE I MADE MY GOAL.

Today marks the 8th anniversary of my participation in fandom! Hell yeah, kid me had no idea what she was getting into when she started writing ATLA OC fic.

Summary: The Reds and Blues; and their respective Freelancers, find themselves stranded on a strange planet named Chorus. Secrets, lies, and the unexpected seem to lie around every corner, and there might be even larger threats looming over the horizon.

They’re possibly even less ready for Chorus than Chorus is for them.

Pairings: Lots of friendships, Suckington, Yorkalina, Chex, eventual Yorkimbalina, possible others.

Start

Ao3

Things were finally starting to calm down. Tucker’s stomach was finally okay, although he had a pretty big, nasty looking scar.

Kai tried not to look at it that much. It wasn’t fair, she knew, because Wash had loads of scars and they didn’t freak her out at all, but this one… it was different somehow. Because she’d seen it happen, she’d seen Tucker crumple to the ground, she’d heard the sounds he’d made as the knife had gone in. Wash’s scars were older. They were faded. They were from before.

Kai hadn’t nearly lost Wash for any of those scars. Well, she had, but she hadn’t had to watch.

Armonia was okay. They had their own room and that meant they could have a lot of fun. They all had a bunch of promises and fantasies to live up to now that they were all together. But deep down, there was always something small and hard at the bottom of Kai’s stomach. It wasn’t like Valhalla; those days had been always touched with a slight glow in her memories. They were just good.

Even now, her face buried in Wash’s chest and her fingers tangled with Tucker’s, Kai couldn’t stop thinking about how Locus and Felix were inches away from trying to take this away from her. They were going to try to destroy this; them specifically and everything and everyone around them.

It made Kai almost glad when Doyle and Kimball called them all into the war room.

There was a nervous hum in the air; there were representatives of all armies. Lots of squad leaders; people who Wash had trained when they were with the Feds. A bunch of Donut’s friends too. The El-Tees were there, each of them sticking by their captains.

Kai stuck close to Wash, with the others who weren’t affiliated with either sides. York was the only one of them who’d been with the New Republic who wasn’t with a squad. Kai frowned, wondering about that, but refocused her energy on Kimball. She was hot, Kai decided quickly. She’d only had a few brief interactions with Kimball previously; things had been busy. But Kimball had visited Tucker a few times, which made her okay in Kai’s book. She had been worried about him.

“It’s been weeks now,” Kimball said, hands clasped behind her back. “We’re settled in as well as we can. And now General Doyle and I are in agreement that it’s time we begin to take action.”

Doyle nodded. “We’ve received word of a large cache of supplies, including ammunition. Which, I’m afraid to say, we are in grave need of.”

“But we also have had word about some… strange activity from the alien artifacts on the other side of the planet,” Kimball said. “Our current plan is to send a small, elite scouting force to see what they can find on that side of the planet, while organizing another, larger force to go after the supplies.”

“We’ll also be having a force remaining here at Armonia,” Doyle interrupted, and Kimball shot him a look which Kai could identify as a stink-eye a mile away. They’d fought over that, she guessed. Maybe a lot.

“The scouting mission would be volunteers only,” Kimball said. “We’ve been getting… strange reports from that area.”

“Whoa, hold up there, what kind of strange?” Dex called. “Are we talking like, alien bullshit strange or just “we’ve got no fucking clue” strange, because let me tell you, last time we got alien bullshit strange, someone got pregnant, and let’s not repeat that.”

“Captain Grif,” Kimball said, and oh boy, she wasn’t happy with Dex.

“I’m afraid the reports are inconclusive,” Doyle said apologetically. “A few small patrols have gone missing in the area. Those who have reported back have made mentions of… bears.”

“Which is why the force needs to be small and elite,” Kimball said. “We need them to be able to move quickly and be able to handle themselves should any trouble arise.”

“We volunteer!” Sarge said immediately.

“We, Colonel?” Doyle asked, looking at Kimball as he said it. Had they been hoping the Freelancers would go?

“Sure thing! Me and the boys would be happy to go! And the girl, if Red here wants to come with,” Sarge said, slapping a hand on Carolina’s shoulder.

Carolina shook her head. “I think I’ll be more useful with the supplies team,” she said. “Plus, if it’s a pirate cache, there might be more of that Freelancer technology there.”

And so began the usual bickering about who was going where. In the end though, it split up just as Kai had figured it would, after Sarge had volunteered the Reds for the scouting mission. The Reds and Blues, minus the Freelancers and plus Doctor Hot Stuff, were going to check out aliens. The Freelancers and Kimball were going to the cache.

Doyle and the El-Tees were all planning on staying back in Armonia to try to keep the peace and hold down the fort. And possibly have an orgy, but Kai was pretty sure her suggestion on that front was going to be ignored, so she wouldn’t get her hopes up.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you two?” Wash asked, looking at Kai and Tucker nervously. “I can probably switch…”

“Dude, they’re both short runs,” Tucker said. He placed his hand against Wash’s visor and pushed him back slightly. “We’ll be home soon. Besides, Kimball’s gonna need you to have her back.”

Wash hesitated, before nodding in agreement. “Just… be safe. Both of you.”

“What’s to worry about?” Simmons said. All of them turned their heads to look at him. He was standing right next to Dex, just far enough away that it wasn’t obvious that they wanted to be holding hands, even though (duh) they clearly wanted to. “We’ve got four Freelancers on our side. It’s going to be fine.”

Dex let out a long, agonized groan. “We’re all gonna die now,” he said.

“What?” Simmons demanded.

Kai swallowed, and hugged Wash tightly.

Things were going to be fine.

The trek out to the cache was long and awkward as could be expected when York was in the same warthog as Kimball.

York had been avoiding her since… everything. Large meetings only, and certainly no situations which involved him in the shotgun position and Kimball driving. There was a Fed behind them in the gunner position, a kid named Dulles, which only made it more awkward. Because York wasn’t about to apologize, no matter how much he might have wanted to, not with a Fed in the back.

He’d met Dulles briefly in Armonia, sneaking around the edges of the meetings. Dulles could have been intelligence in another life, York and Delta were in complete agreement on that. She was quiet and slender, and favored knives in a way that kind of reminded York of Connie. The gunner position didn’t suit her, but York wasn’t about to ask Kimball for control of a powerful weapon. She was antsy enough in this position, with him close enough to slide a knife into her ribs. Her glances in his direction were twitchy and frequent.

He tried not to think too hard about why she’d even gotten into the warthog in the first place. It was probably to keep an eye on him or something like that.

There was a ping on his channel with Tex.

TX: have u tried pickup lines.

NY: please don’t

TX: ;)

NY: who are you and what have you done with my best friend

TX: <3

NY: you’re a terrible person you know that

NY: I’m ignoring you now

TX: boring

York glanced over at Kimball again. These past few weeks had clearly taken a toll on her. Her entire body was tense. The kind of tense that Carolina had been, those last few weeks at Freelancer before York had left. But at least when Carolina had been like this, York had been able to help somewhat. He’d been able to try to make her laugh, to try to rub some of the aches and tension out of her shoulders, to let her pin him to the wall.

He shoved the last one aside viciously, because those thoughts and Kimball were not compatible. Those thoughts and Carolina were hardly compatible these days.

Of all the things that he’d have thought Felix would screw up, York had to admit that his love life would not be one of them. But in hindsight, that was stupid of him. It was exactly the sort of thing that Felix would do.

“We’re approaching the nav point,” Kimball said.

York tapped his foot as quietly as he could. “Any sign of hostiles?”

“We’re expecting a small force,” Kimball said for a second, it was like she wasn’t furious at him. “No sign yet.”

York nodded, then turned back away before she could remember that he had lied to her.

“Private Dulles,” Kimball said suddenly, and there was the bite, the anger. She wasn’t happy she’d forgotten. “I need you to go rendevouz with Agent Washington. You’re going to be on the advanced team.”

“Yes ma’am!” Dulles said. At least she was one of the polite Feds. York had been hearing rumors. Not that anyone was dumb enough to badmouth Kimball in front of him, but he’d been hearing things. York could practically see the smirk on Dulles’ face as she began to launch herself onto the next warthog, clearly intending to leapfrog through the wave of cards until she reached Wash.

York laughed as he realized that Kimball had not been expecting that, given the spluttering that was emerging from her helmet. He stopped as soon as she turned her helmet to him, radiating coldness and a quiet, stern fury.

“Sorry,” York said.

“For what, Agent York?” Kimball snapped.

York looked away.

The cache was in a mountainous region, but still in the rainforest. It was far away from anywhere on Chorus that York had been before. The supplies were supposed to be in a cave, with a small guard force at the mouth of it.

York shifted in his seat as he stared at the natural beauty of Chorus, not looking at Kimball. A thousand confessions were heavy on his tongue. If anyone deserved to know his sins, surely it was her. “I…”

Because the universe had a sense of humor, that was the moment that York noticed the faintly paler patches in the dirt of the road they were driving on. York shot up on his feet, his good eye darting back and forth in accordance with Delta’s readings. “Mines!” He screamed into his radio. His heart was hammering in his chest, pushing aside his guilt. “Landmines, it’s a—”

The first line of warthogs hit the landmines with a deafening noise. York and Kimball didn’t hit one of them directly, but the shockwave still sent them backwards.

York and Kimball both scrambled out of the warthog. “Damn it!” Kimball snarled. “Agent York, Agent Carolina, get your AI moving, we need to see if we can map our way through this—”

That was when the first sniper shot went off.

Kimball saw it before York did, his back turned as he was to the nest.

“Get down!” Kimball yelled, and York let out a howl of pain as the bullet passed right through his left shoulder. He and Kimballl hit the ground hard, her lying on top of him. “Harris!”

York let out a loud gasp. “Dee—”

“Healing unit active,” Delta reassured both of them. Kimball’s hands were pressed over the wound. The blood was staining her pale armor. “Thank you for your quick thinking, General Kimball. The bullet’s trajectory would have been… fatal.”

Kimball’s breathing was heavy. “Someone take out that sniper!” She called into her radio. Around them, more bullets were flying. There were screams. A few more of the mines went off. “A trap,” she muttered, still on top of York, still trying to put pressure on the wound. “This was a—”

<Lucky again, Foxtrot?> A voice, soft and distinctly familiar, came in through the radio. From the stiffness of Kimball’s spine, she was hearing it too. York could just hope he wasn’t broadcasting on all channels.

Of all the ghosts from his past, it figured it would be him. “Siris,” York gasped out. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

<You’re supposed to be dead, Foxtrot,> Siris’ voice was perfectly calm, but there was rage beneath the surface. York had always been decent at telling Siris’ moods; it had been practice for North, in a way, learning to tell when the amiable sniper was about to lose his temper. <I figure I’d make sure that you got what you deserve.>

Kimball was staring down at him, clearly on the verge of a thousand questions. “Kimball,” he said urgently, ignoring the hammering of his heart in his chest, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, ignoring Siris’s voice echoing in his mind. “We need to get out of here.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, and he half wondered, in a dizzy moment, if she was going to just shoot him and be done. Kill him before any more of his sins came back to haunt the armies of Chorus. Maybe they’d all be better off that way.

But then there was a blaze of gunfire, and Carolina leapt into sight. Kimball’s head snapped up, breaking the moment with York, and the thought dissipated quickly. “Sniper’s gone,” she reported, breathing heavily. There was no sign of Epsilon, but there were streaks of soot on her armor. She must have been close to one of the landmines. “One of the Feds took out the nest with a chain gun, but they were already gone.”

“He,” York said. His own voice sounded faint and distant to his ears.

Carolina paused, staring at him. Kimball was still lying on top of him, practically straddling in, and his blood was everywhere. “You’re hurt,” she said. She sounded oddly quiet, in a way that York couldn’t place or make sense of.

“He,” York repeated, because if he focused on anything else he might lose consciousness or start panicking, and they couldn’t afford either of those things. “It’s Siris, another one of… he was… he’s like me.”

“Later!” Kimball snapped, but her grip on his shoulder had turned painful. “We need to pull everybody out of here. What’s the status?”

“They’re trying to circle us,” Epsilon reported. For a second, York thought that his projection was staticky, but he must have imagined it, because when he looked again, the avatar was clear as day. “We’ve still got a gap letting us retreat, but we don’t have much time. We’ve got to move!”

“Go,” Carolina said to Kimball, bending down. “I’ve got York.”

“Let someone else do it!” Epsilon howled, but that was the extent of his protests. Ha. York knew he’d grow on him. Delta hummed in his veins, irritated and worried in equal parts. Delta knew what Siris meant.

Kimball nodded stiffly, then got off York and walked away. For a moment, York missed the weight of her, before he pushed that thought so deep down it would take one of Sarge’s fancy drills to dig it up again. Delta had stopped the bleeding at least, so he didn’t need to keep holding it, but he probably should get patched up soon.

Carolina pulled him to his feet, and York sagged against her. It was a familiar position, his arm looped around her waist. Even the blood didn’t make it unfamiliar, but there was a hardness between them that there had never been before. York had broken this. He had broken them. He had managed to destroy one of the few good things he had, and these secrets had possibly destroyed it beyond repair. He swallowed, and held on tighter, dizzy with bloodloss. The mines had stopped exploding at least, even if there’s still plenty of gunfire. But at least a part of those guns are from their side, so York just leans against Carolina as she half drags him, half helps him away from the chaos, and listens to Kimball shout and try to corral the army into a retreat.

A message pinged in the corner of his HUD.

But this time it wasn’t from Tex.

Felix: did u rlly think it would be that easy foxy?

It had been a trap. All of it; the weeks of recon, the supplies—it had been a trap, and they had fallen for it.

And Wash hadn’t been able to raise Tucker or Kai or any of the others since they’d figured out what was happening.

The pirates chased them back, and Wash tried not to freak out at their losses. The warthogs were bad enough, but he hadn’t gotten a casualty count. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Sir!” Fredericks, one of the Feds who had taken the gunner position on their warthog. “We’ve got to start conserving ammunition on return fire! We’re running low.”

Wash bit his tongue. “Not much farther, soldier!” He shouted. Armonia was quickly growing closer. Once they were inside the walls, they would be safe.

“Open the gates!” Kimball ordered through their radios. “Towers, get ready, we’re pursued!”

Wash had never been so grateful for a city’s defenses as he was at that moment, when the towering gates of Armonia swung open. There would be two layers of walls between them and the pirates soon enough.

As they passed through the gates and entered the deadzone, Wash realized something.

“Locus knows the traps,” Wash said.

“No he doesn’t!” Dulles, the driver, said with a whooping laugh as she slammed on the brakes. “We’ve been changing them up, don’t you worry Agent Washington! Your girlfr—uh, Private Grif has been helping us with that.”

Wash didn’t react to the near-slip, but instead leapt out of the warthog to go towards the others for answers.

“What’s happening?” He demanded.

Kimball was standing there, with Carolina on one side and a Rebel soldier on the other.

“Go, find Doyle,” Kimball ordered the soldier, who snapped a salute and took off. “We’re still trying to figure that out, Washington.”

“We were set up,” Texas snapped, decloaking suddenly. Kimball jumped and swore, one hand going to her weapon. “I just got off the wall,” she added. “They’re not moving.”

Kimball’s eyes flickered up to the top of the wall, doubtlessly wondering how Tex had made it down from there so quickly. Wash didn’t say anything. If Tex wanted everybody to know that her body was inorganic, that was her own business.

“How much did we lose?” Carolina asked.

“We’re still figuring it out,” Kimball said. Her voice was bleak but steady. “We lost more in the retreat.”

“Most of the casualties were equipment, sir,” a woman with orange stripes on her armor reported. One of Grif’s then. “We got lucky; a lot of people on the front line managed to hit the breaks before we hit the mines thanks to Agent York and Delta’s warning.”

Tex’s head snapped up. “Where is York?”

“Here, Tex,” York said. His arm was in a crude sling, and his armor was covered in blood. A shoulder wound.

Tex was standing very, very still. “Locus?” She asked, her voice careful and controlled.

York shook his head. “Someone else.”

Kimball shot him a look that Wash couldn’t decipher, but he didn’t have time because Doyle had just arrived.

“Thank goodness, you’re all alright!” Doyle said, breathing heavily. “I just came from the south—I’m—they’ve got tanks on the other side of the river!”

Kimball’s spine straightened suddenly, and she stared up at the sky.

“We need to get inside now,” she said. “They’re sieging us.”

“What?” Wash said.

“They’re going to try to starve us out or break down the walls—or—or something. But we neeed to get inside, because they might try a bombing run, and we need to figure this out.”

“We’re trapped,” Carolina said, quietly.

“Yes,” Kimball said. And then she and Doyle both started walking in the direction of the headquarters.

The four freelancers stared at each other. One thought was clearly on all of their minds.

The Reds and Blues were on their own.

#Steph Writes #The BFF Verse #Kaikaina Grif #Agent York #Agent Washington #Suckington #Yorkimbalina

9 notes · View notes