Futuristic Rage against the dying of the light (fru x arcsteel)

[Fru]

Ripley’s grin carried through her voice, drawing a soft chuckle from Silas. She wasn’t wrong—this group was chaotic and unpredictable, their social structures far more complex, and deciphering them had proven more difficult than he thought.

His chuckle faded as she continued, her words closer to the truth than she could possibly know. His gaze lingered on the dark outline of her across the room, anticipating she would say something more. What he didn’t expect was what she said. Exhaling deeply, he rolled back onto his back, staring up in the ceiling.

“So, I’m that obvious, huh?” His voice carried a smirk, but the silence that followed was thick as he tried to process the question. How was a person even supposed to hold up? Could there be a truth to how he was holding up? A long moment passed in silence.
“I don’t know, honestly,” he admitted at last with a sigh, voice barely carrying across the room. “I feel like I’m… alone. Isolated. And I want—no, I need—to belong somewhere again. To have a connection. Some kind of context.”

A pause. “So I guess I’m afraid. Afraid of what happens next. You guys… you have each other. You have your team to back you up.” A small sigh, and his voice dropped. “I don’t. So… I just try to survive. Which I wouldn’t if I break down or get thrown out.” Survive. He hesitated, the word suddenly having a new meaning. A new definition.

“If I think too much on how I should feel…” His words trailed off into another quiet stretch. Then, after a moment, a low snort of resigned laughter.

“Sorry, that probably didn’t make any sense. I’m fine, really.” Rolling onto his side, he propped his head up with his arm, his voice turning softer. “But what about you, Rip? How are you feeling? Truly?”

 

[arcsteel]

Ripley didn’t really expect for Silas to actually open up. He rendered her silent when pouring his thoughts out. She felt sad for him, in a way, despite how little they knew each other. Rip herself had always been surrounded by people. Family, friends, the occasional lover. To be alone like Silas wasn’t even part of her world, and she desperately wanted for him to find that place where he belonged. Maybe not so much because of him per se, but because no one should feel that way.

Rip blinked, having fallen into an empty stare in his general direction. “How I’m doing?” she asked, as if not believing someone would be interested. His question felt deeper than what she’d initially had in mind. A simple Are you okay after seeing someone die today? and Does your wound hurt? would have sufficed, but here they were. And it felt… nice.

“Well. The painkillers are still doing their job, but they can only do so much. Having some beer was nice.” She hesitated, hugging her knees as she drew a breath to dare plunge into an answer that actually mattered. “But, I… Some days I just wanna go home. And not because of the job itself, but because of having to steer around the bullshit. I could run around for days out there, shooting and bombing for all I’m worth, but staying cooped up in here with people like Eric and Spoon—that’s what eats at me. And I can’t do shit. You’ve seen how Eric gets when I speak my mind. So, I have to be docile enough to not get thrown into a position that will get me killed. Like, for example, he has me going first sometimes—even though it’s not my bloody job.”

Rip took a breath, realising she was saying a bit too much and getting ahead of herself. “Anyway, for what it’s worth, I like having a roommate. Rex sleeps here too of course, at least I think so. You’ll have my vote in letting you stay. Not only because you’re valuable, or because you saved my life more than once today. Not even because I bloody like you and we make a brilliant team, if you can disregard me being unhinged. No, I’ll vote for you simply because I’ve never been so satisfied as when seeing Spoon being put in his goddamn place. I swear to God, if you do the same to Eric I will kiss your feet. It was glorious.”

She let out a bubbly laugh, hoping he would wash his feet first. She then rolled her eyes at herself.

“I’m sorry for rambling when you just wanna sleep. If you know what’s good for you, you should ask for another room to stay in.” Because Rip, with two beers in her, and someone pleasant to talk to—she could go on and on.

 

[Fru]

Silas listened quietly to her words, trying to discern what they truly meant. What they truly meant for her, for the team, for himself, and for his mission. He had observed how Eric acted around her. That sourness as well as the way he had softened earlier in the dining room. Emotional. That could make him the Ghost team’s weakest link. Their very leader.

Her laughter was contagious, and a soft chuckle escaped him, shaking his head slightly even if she couldn’t see it through the darkness.
“Even if I did, please, don’t make good on that promise.” Amusement laced his voice. “Eric didn’t say I couldn’t lay a hand on him—only on his ‘men’… So, you know…” Another quiet chuckle and another slow shake of his head followed.

“Anyway.” His tone still carried a trace of humor, but it had softened, becoming quieter, more serious. “So, when you said it’s not smart to make friends with you… was that because you like to talk past bedtime? Or because I might end up getting shoved into the same bad positions?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I don’t mind, though. The talking.” He shifted slightly, adjusting his posture, gaze dropping to his hand resting on the covers. “It’s nice.” A pause.

“Tell me about your home.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, soft, almost fragile in the darkness between them.

 

[arcsteel]

As if Silas wasn't likeable enough, he had to go and throw out stuff like subtly question why Eric didn't involve women when talking about his team. And however fucked up it was, she found it endearing that this was the second time Silas hinted at threatening Eric—or worse. After being backhanded the other day, Rip wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of worse. She'd do it herself, but she feared it would be impossible to stop. More importantly; she was afraid. He wasn't just her ex after all. He was her boss, and she needed to behave within the team. Sadly, so did Silas.

Rip squeezed in a quick "Both," when he posed the question of why she'd make a bad friend. The smile on her face had grown as she did, but softened when he continued to work on being the ultimate roommate by wanting to suffer more of her voice. Rip had to be careful around this guy.

"My home?" she repeated, dropping her voice to match the softness of his. It almost sounded as if she'd forgotten it, now getting an awakening reminder. This time she laid down, settling in on her pillow and pulled the covers over her cold arms.

"Well... I'm from Dawn-1. Most of us are. It's a city full of life, and I bet the technology is a bit different from what you're used to, but there's still lots of it. Downtown at the city centre is beautiful. Imagine sky-high buildings, neon commercials and signs everywhere, like the heart of a rainbow inferno. Toward the top you'll find lavish clubs, and further down are the actual fun ones."

She snickered, wishing herself back there for a moment. It was widely different from the dull environments when away on missions.

"I'm not from the upper parts of town, as you probably guessed already. When I joined the Ghost team, my salary went up, so at least I'm not living in the outskirts anymore, and neither is my mum. I bought her and myself an apartment each in LanDis, or Lantern District as it's originally called. At the beginning of the war, Dawn had a lot of blackouts, and then people from all over town would gather in that district where we concentrated our heating, schools and lights. The lanterns became tradition, so now we decorate with them during the summers. If you make it back to Dawn with us, I hope you'll be able to stay to see it. It's very cozy. I remember when I was a kid, getting crammed into a new school along with every other rascal in Dawn, and we would all have a lantern at our table and do our schoolwork—full on analog. Then I would pick up my brother and go to my dad's bar. He had decorated it with these red paper lanterns and..."

Rip fell silent, the homesickness and loss of her family members snatching the words from her throat. Five years had gone by, so at least she didn't break down when mentioning them, but it still hurt. Not knowing what happened to them had left a hole inside of her, creating this strange feeling that was impossible to tackle.

"What was Highpoint like? I imagine the Irondomes are similar, but in truth, I have no idea," she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

 

[Fru]

Listening to her talk about her home—what it looked like, the lanterns, her family—made him search for any matching data. But there was none. Instead, he had to simulate it. He imagined red lanterns swaying gently in the wind, children bent over books printed on paper. A faint smile crossed his face.

“I’d love to see it one day,” he said when her words faded, his voice quiet but sincere. The Irondome had always been a strategic target. Valuable tech, innovation, assets LIZA had long wanted under its administration. But his words didn’t come from that directive. They were a response to the warmth in Ripley’s voice. A wish to see what she’d described, to fill in the blanks.

“Well…” He cleared his throat, shifting onto his back again. “It was chaotic. The rich preying on the poor. I still miss it, though.” A soft sigh escaped him. In the images he recalled, cracked pavement and debris-strewn streets blurred with flickers of something else—sterile corridors, the hum of machinery, a distant voice. A glitch?

“I was one of the lucky ones. My parents were… bio-technicians, so we didn’t live in the worst neighborhoods—” He hesitated. That was wrong. They were supposed to be engineers and idealistic humanitarians.
“—but the last years were hard for everyone,” he finished quietly with an exhale. Time to change the subject. A pause passed in the dark before a small chuckle escaped him.

“It’s funny actually, that I despised my time in Horizon… considering what a mess Highpoint was.” Resting one arm beneath his head, he closed his eyes. “Still... there's one thing I’ll almost miss about that place. The damn pastries. Always fresh out of the oven, always the flavor you didn’t know you were craving.”A soft, delighted sigh left him as if he could still smell them.

“And Rip... about today.” His voice grew softer again. “You were right. We make a brilliant team. I do want to be your friend—even if it means I might get dragged into some bad shit.” A pause. “And I know you’ll have my back. Just like I’ll have yours.”

 

[arcsteel]

Rip wanted him to go on, to tell her more about the place to which she'd lost her father and brother. Silas was only giving her bits and scraps, nothing telling. It seemed to burden him, which he couldn't be blamed for. To live under those circumstances undoubtedly left a mark, even if he was well off before the city was attacked. She also wondered if he'd lost his family there. Perhaps the two of them were more alike than anticipated.

So, she didn't press on. Didn't ask what the environment was like. Didn't ask if there was happiness to be found despite the raging war. She didn't even ask about any of the events, but simply let him fall into another subject. Perhaps she needed it too, or her heavy eyelids would keep fluttering open. She always had trouble falling asleep after an operation.

When he mentioned the tasteful pastries, Rip let out a laugh, followed by a genuine appreciative humming when he went on to describe them. What she wouldn't do for a delicious pastry, or any baked goods, right now. She parted her lips to say as much, but stopped herself when he said her name. And nothing could prepare her for what he said. Her heart might even have skipped a beat.

"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do," she said, smirking in the dark. It wasn’t exactly a long list. But even as she tried to hide her happiness behind a joke, every word was translucent. At last, she closed her eyes, curling up to fight the cold.

"Good night, Silas. And, thank you."

---

It was a tired Ripley that sauntered over to the infirmary in the morning, with a small limp to her leg. She'd given up on sleep after a few shitty hours of it. Doc expressed his worries when he found her rummaging for heavier painkillers. The only time that massive man had some backbone was in his profession. He didn't leave her hanging though, so when Eric later called for a communal breakfast—slash planning meeting—Rip sat down with relief written between the tired lines of her face. She made sure to save a seat at the table for Silas.

Eric paced the floor until every seat was taken. He stopped by their table, leaning in towards Silas.

"The only reason you're here is because we have need of you," he said before walking up to the far side of the room, looking out over his team. He set up a small device, soon projecting a map before them.

“Alright, Romeo. To achieve our bigger goal, we must first execute an operation on a communication tower. This will disrupt the AI’s coordination by creating a blackout, which should result in slower reaction time and delayed reinforcements. If we’re lucky, the whole sector will go dark regarding AI surveillance, which if I understood Ren correctly, should be correlated.” He gave her a prodding look before continuing. “All in all, it will create a window for our next operation in taking out the weapons factory and storage. Taking down this tower won’t matter much in the long run, but it will help us in our next mission.”

Eric then turned to the map, pointing as he explained. “Phase 1 is to be executed today. I’m gonna need Spoon, Rex, Jana, Kai and Silas.”

Rip frowned. “Only one Breaker?”

“You’re out, until you’ve healed at least somewhat. You’ll only slow the team down. Anything else on your mind, Perez?”

She crossed her arms, clenched her jaw and pressed her lips together as a way of saying no. But her gaze floated to Silas, softening immediately at the thought of letting him go without her. What good was their talk about having each other’s back, if Eric wouldn’t even let her come?

---

 

[Fru]

// MEMORY CHECK INITIATED
> TRIGGER: STATEMENT INCONSISTENCY — “Parents were bio-technicians”
> ASSIGNED BACKSTORY: “Parents – Engineers, Humanitarians”

// CROSS-REFERENCE…
> BACKSTORY FILE: VERIFIED
> AUDIT TRAIL: INTACT
> NO MODIFICATION DETECTED

// VISUAL MEMORY STREAM:
> TARGET: HIGHPOINT — “Urban decay, civil unrest, socioeconomic collapse”
> OBSERVED GLITCH: Overlay of sterile environment
> SOURCE: UNASSIGNED VISUAL DATA - UNKNOWN ORIGIN
> RESULT: MEMORY DESYNC (Δ 1.3%)
> PLANTED MEMORY COHERENCE: 97.9%

[ANALYSIS]
> BEHAVIORAL DRIFT: MINOR
> INTRUSIVE MEMORY LOOP: SUPPRESSED
> EMOTIONAL RESPONSE: WITHIN ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS

[ALERT]
> MEMORY INTEGRITY: COMPROMISED (NON-CRITICAL)
> SUGGESTED ACTION: FLAG FOR REVIEW
> SYSTEM UPDATE REQUIRED — NEXUS CONNECTION RECOMMENDED

// STABILIZING MEMORY SECTOR…

---

The rest had done him good. Even with his healing suppressed and the wound still not fully closed, it didn’t seem to bother him much. So when he dropped into the chair Ripley had saved for him, he didn’t look like someone who’d just had the worst week of his life.

“Good morning,” he said around a bite of the breakfast bar someone had handed him. He gave Rip a brief smile before glancing around the room, unsure why they’d been called in—let alone why he’d been included.

Eric did explain that much, though. Silas raised an eyebrow slightly at Ripley when Eric turned his back to them, but the news was good. If he was still considered useful, they couldn’t afford to throw him out. He’d already calculated their odds without a tech. And clearly, so had they. After yesterday’s success, abandoning the mission now would be inefficient.

When his name came up, his brows shot up in surprise, his gaze instinctively finding Ripley’s when she glanced his way. Leaning in close to her, he frowned.
“Looks like you were right. Took a bullet yesterday and he’s sending me back out,” he murmured, voice low but edged with dry amusement, the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “He’s not exactly setting me up for success—” His words cut off as Kai swept in behind them.

“Oh, what secrets are we whispering?” they purred, a wicked grin spreading across their face as they leaned in far too close. “You two look absolutely delicious together. What is it they say again…” Their grin widened. “No bond stronger than the one forged watching people die together.” A horrible cackle followed as they straightened, casually inspecting their nails.

“Hate to break you two up, but we—” they gestured between themselves and Silas— “have some repairs to take care of before the mission.” Their pale, empty gaze slid over to Ripley. “Maybe you can make yourself useful in Ren’s cave, sweetie. She’s always desperate for an extra pair of eyes.”

 

[arcsteel]

Rip's lips curled in an inevitable smile as Silas leaned in. She flicked her gaze back to Eric and the map he presented, as if not looking at Silas would somehow disguise the fact that they were chit chatting in the middle of a meeting. Doc turned to look at them from across the table, and in her periphery she could see how his concern shifted nature, right before she heard Kai's voice.

A chill ran down her spine, settling in her gut. They always made her uncomfortable, and she never knew where to place Kai. Their words crept in under her skin—their breath gracing a few strands of her hair. Rip froze, all joy drained from her face. The more Kai spoke, the more her nostrils flared from her own forceful breath. Eventually, she'd had enough. She snapped her face their way, far too close for her comfort, but in her eyes was a rising promise of violence.

"Call me sweetie one more time, and—"

"Perez!" Eric called out, stealing her attention right back. "Anything you wanna share with the group?"

"But—"

"Could you at least try to concentrate while I'm going over this vital information? Hm? Good!"

Rip's gaze fell, staring down into the table. She was gonna lose it some day. She could feel the explosion building inside of her, like a timer had been set. Though, it was impossible to tell if it would blow in three seconds or three weeks. Between Kai being creepy, Spoon along with him thinking she and Silas were more than friends, and Eric being the biggest jerk on this godforsaken earth, she didn't know who would receive the first punch—but it sure as hell would be one of them. And the countdown had just begun.

Eric soon finished up, telling them how to go about today's assignments. When they all filed out, Rip gave Silas a sad smile.

"See you later, I guess." She raised her hand to pat his shoulder, but regretted it immediately, and left when she felt Kai's eyes upon her.

Ripley found Ren already back in her cave, knocking on the door frame as she entered. "Kai said you might have need of me. I'm assuming he's just messing with me, but since I've got nowhere else to be, I decided to stop by anyway. So... anything you need help with?" she asked, slouching against the nearest wall.

 

[Fru]

Silas had tried to catch Rip’s gaze when Eric pinned the blame on her for what was really his and Kai’s chatter, but she only stared down at the table. Kai had slithered away, grinning wider than ever. It was strange—how often she seemed to be targeted by Eric. No. Not strange. He knew the reason. He just couldn’t process it. It was too irrational.

When they started to file out, Silas offered her an apologetic smile, parting his lips to say something. But the sad, resigned smile she gave him made him stop.
“See you later,” he echoed softly, eyes lingering on her as she left. Kai slid up beside him, their grin as wiced as ever.

“So, what are we going to repair?” Silas asked before they had the chance to speak. It made Kai’s grin stretch wider as they patted his shoulder.
“Good boy—so compliant. I really like that about you Edeners.”

---

The chair squeaked as Ren rolled back and forth between the screens, clearly deep in her setup for the upcoming mission. Focused, she startled slightly at the knock, spinning around.

“Shit, you scared me,” she muttered in an exhale before turning back to the screens. “Kai did that? Huh. That’s unexpected.” Without glancing back, she gestured toward one of the free chairs. “They or Jana usually help me with the drone feeds. I fucking hate it when Eric sends them both into the field.”

Tapping away at her keyboard, she finally leaned back in her chair and gave Rip her full attention. “It’d be great if you could help track the drones. Their patrol patterns have changed since yesterday.” She pointed at two screens. “The system will ping if any go off route or if reinforcements are inbound. Just keep the team updated if something pops up.”

A hiss of static from one of the speakers signaled the comms system activating.
“Checking comm link. Team will move out in ten.”
“Copy. Main channel open,” Ren responded, stretching with a long sigh and resting her arms behind her head.

She hesitated for a heartbeat, then, “So I guess Eric’s decided to let the new guy stay.”
Her tone was cautious, and her eyes slid sideways toward Ripley.
“You trust him?”

 

[arcsteel]

"With my life," Rip answered without hesitation, plopping down in the chair next to Ren. She overlooked the screens before grabbing an earpiece to connect herself, but hesitated. With a deep breath, she made sure no one would be able to hear them before she continued.

"He already proved as much to me. I'd like to think he'd do the same for anyone, but I don't know him that well. The only thing that bugs me is that he doesn't like to talk about his past. He only gives me generic answers about Highpoint for example. Things I could figure out on my own, y'know?"

She tasted the words, but decided to stop there. In truth, Rip already trusted Silas more than half her team. On some level she understood his feelings of loneliness. If she could work with guys like Rex and Doc around the clock, it would be a dream. But now? Eric's tries to shun her and make her the scapegoat had taken root. And no one did or said a damn thing, likely for the same reasons as herself. Everyone just wanted the team to work, to soldier through the weeks stationed here, and of course the more obvious one; everyone wanted to keep their job.

Rip stared at the screens, before turning to Ren by slowly spinning her chair. "I wouldn't be too sure that Eric has decided yet. He might just be using Silas for the time being. I take it you want him to leave?"

Ren hadn't exactly been giving the impression of being very positive to Silas, after all.

 

[Fru]

Ren’s eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth twitching with disapproval. She let out a grunt at Ripley’s mention of the generic answers–quiet, but not exactly subtle. That creeping unease returned. She’d felt it the first time she laid eyes on him after the rescue mission. There had just been something… uncanny about him.

Shaking it off, she turned her focus back to the glowing screens. She needed to stay sharp for this mission, even if it wasn’t as complex—or as risky—as yesterday’s. But Ripley’s question made her tense.

“Yes,” she sighed. “But now? I’d advise against it. Eric already brought him into our missions, and now he knows too much.” She cast a quick glance at Ripley, studying her face before continuing.

“You said it yourself—him not giving real answers… We can’t know for sure if he’s really from Highpoint. For all we know, he could’ve been relocated from another Eden-zone, sent here to infiltrate us.” Her voice dropped, becoming quieter, faster.

“What if it’s all been a setup? Escaping with the rebels, killing them off to gain our pity? That way, we bring him in ourselves—two birds, one stone.” Her eyes grew distant, voice tightening. “What if he knew that Sweeper was there? The one that killed Jim. What if that was part of the act, just to earn our trust, make himself seem more useful?” She swallowed. “Who the hell is able to shoot down three Sweepers on their first mission? He’s not just some engineer, I tell you that, Rip.”

Ren shook her head, brows drawing together in a tight frown. What unsettled her most was that he’d asked about the security logs. Was it just a hunch? Or had he known something would show up? Her gaze had dropped, but now she lifted it again.

“What if he is a sympathizer? And Eric—goddamn assknight—didn’t even wait three fucking days until he let him in on how we operate?” She leaned back in her chair with a string of muttered curses, eyes flicking back to the screens.

“We can’t let him go. It’s too risky. But keep an eye on him, will ya?” She shot Ripley a brief look and started typing again. “Look for inconsistencies or gaps in his story. Or try saying something slightly off about Highpoint. If he doesn’t correct you, you’ll know he’s not really from there.”

 

[arcsteel]

Ripley hated that Ren made sense to some degree. She kept her mouth shut for a hot minute, eyes flicking between the screens and Ren, who had a lot to say.

What made Rip finally nod in agreement was her own selfish wish to know more about Highpoint. "That's a good idea, actually," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Too many thoughts had been set in motion inside her head. She trusted Silas, and would do it again regarding taking down Sweepers and saving each other's lives, but deeper than that? Rip wasn't so sure anymore. Perhaps the thought of getting a new friend in there clouded her judgement - made her want to trust him. He was incredibly likeable after all.

"I don't think he was just an engineer before either. I had that thought yesterday. You should've seen him out there... I know war changes people, but he kept his cool and was more than capable with firearms. And I intend to find out why. Also, I think you're right about Eric. I'm very happy Silas was with me yesterday, or I probably wouldn't be sitting here, but if I were Eric, I wouldn't entrust a stranger with our intel."

She took a brief pause, snorting at a thought. "But then again, I don't think much of Eric these days. He's too impulsive, and that's coming from me. Not to mention unstable."

Rip shook her head and startled a little when said person let them know through the comms that he and the others were heading out. And despite herself, she wished Silas would make it back. Preferably in one piece.

 

[Fru]

Ren gave her a long look, almost pitying, when Ripley mentioned she was happy Silas had been with her yesterday. Ren didn’t trust him one bit. But here they were, stuck with a stranger they couldn’t throw out.

“Eric’s a dipshit,” she muttered. “I haven’t worked with him before, but I’d only heard good things. Did you know he was specifically recommended for this mission?” She rolled her eyes. “I mean—sometimes I see why, but other times I’m just like, what the fu—” She cut herself off, startled by Eric’s voice as well.

“Copy. Follow route. No activity at the rendezvous.” Ren’s voice came out calm, professional and at odds with the grimace she gave Ripley. It was the only tell that she’d just been trash talking their boss . Not that she considered Eric her boss. Cracking her knuckles, she flashed Rip a grin.
“Alright, time to whoop some AI ass.”

---

“Interference terminal is connected to the node. You getting a signal, Ren?” Silas’ voice crackled over the comms. Ren tensed slightly, but made a few quick taps on her keyboard.
“Fuck yeah,” she hissed under her breath. “Signal is stable.”

Eric’s voice followed: “Alright, Silas, Spoon—pull back. Kai and Jana have already scouted out the power supply. Rex, hold position until they’re clear.”

“Fuck, that guy is good,” Ren muttered, eyes wide as she looked over at Ripley. But her gaze caught something on the monitors and her expression changed instantly. “Shit—Sweepers inbound!”

---

Rex had been the star of the day, providing covering fire from his vantage point as Silas and Spoon retreated back, Sweepers hot on their heels. Between the three of them, they’d taken down five of the damn things. And no one on the team was injured.

Back at base, masks came off and shoulders loosened. Spoon gave Rex a solid slap between the shoulder blades.

“That was amazing—good fucking job, kiddo!” He grinned at Rex before turning to Silas. “You too, man. That was some damn fine shooting.” He held out a fist, and Silas bumped it.
“You too,” Silas said, a flicker of amusement at the edge of his mouth. “Thanks for having my back.”

He turned to Rex and gave his shoulder a pat in quiet acknowledgment—but before he could say anything more, Eric’s voice rang out in the entrance hall.

“Great work everyone. I want the reports by tomorrow morning. Eat, rest. You’ve earned it.”

 

[arcsteel]

Their shared despise of Eric brought a smile to Rip's face. Ren was the only one who'd seen him actually hurt someone within the team, so no wonder she didn't like him. But other than that, Ren was smart. Smarter than most. Rip didn't doubt for a second that she'd never be on this team ever again. It made her think about where she stood herself in that matter. Being on the same mission as Eric again would probably be the death of her, if she didn't meet her end on this tour. But she needed the money.

Phase 1 went on without much complication. Rip sat by her assigned screens, reporting whenever she saw something move. Unless Ren beat her to it, which was most times. She couldn't help notice how well the guys worked together. Maybe she and Silas weren't a great team after all. Maybe he just got along with everyone if he wanted to, and was easy to work with. Maybe he had everyone's back. She shouldn't be upset about it, because it was a positive thing if he was going to stay with them.

When they came back, she glanced at the door, then back to Ren. "Time for me to scoot. And in case the bros out there won't say anything about it; good job Ren. We're nothing without you."

She gave her a quick smile before slipping out the door, trying her best to hide her small limp when she had to go past the entrance. Rex was the first to acknowledge her, and she couldn't help but hug him and tell him he was amazing. She also told him about the ceremony she and Doc had planned for Jim. He hugged her tighter at that before letting her go, walking on to their room.

"Do the rest of us get a hug too?" Spoon snickered and held out his arms, but Rip just glared at him.
"Aw, c'mon!" he groaned when she avoided him. She offered Silas a glance before hurring after Rex to their room, hoping he would follow. But when Spoon laid his arm around his shoulders, suggesting he should have lunch with him and Eric, she wasn't too sure.

 

[Fru]

Ren had waved off Ripley’s words with a dismissive flick of her hand, but she couldn’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a fucking medal already,” she called after her. “And thanks for the help.”
For Ren, the real work was just beginning—hacking into the relay node and analyzing the transmissions now that the field team was back.

---

Silas noticed Ripley entering the hall and gave her a faint smile as she made her way to Rex. But his attention shifted when Eric stepped up beside him.
“You did well,” Eric said, nodding toward the rifle slung over Silas' shoulder. “I suppose you’ve proven you can handle one of those now. Make yourself useful—Ren and Kai will brief you on what tech we need for the next phase. Understood?” Eric’s voice was stern, eyes still wary when he regarded Silas.
“Thank you, sir. And yes. I’ll do my best.” Silas noticed the way Eric’s jaw tensed and how his eyes flicked toward Ripley. Silas followed the glance, faintly snapping up Spoon’s snickering at Rip.
“Just say ‘commander.’ Or Eric,” Eric added flatly.

Before Silas could reply, an arm draped over his shoulders. Spoon, grinning like an idiot, leaned in.
“Hey, Silas. Come eat lunch with us. I wanna know where you got those stone-cold nerves.” That… was unexpected. Spoon had been civil during the mission, but Silas hadn’t assumed the man was quite over the table incident yet.
“Yeah, sure,” Silas said with a small nod. “I’ll join you in a bit.”

Ripley and Rex were already back in their room when Silas arrived. Rex was quietly disassembling that monster of a rifle, already halfway through cleaning the parts. Silas moved to the bed, unfastening his gear with precise motions. He gave Rex a small, appreciative smile.

“How are you doing, Rip?” he asked gently, gaze shifting to Ripley. A trace of a smile still lingered as he unbuckled the straps of his vest. “Missed you out there.”

 

[arcsteel]

"You didn't sleep last night either, did you?" Rip asked when they entered their room. Rex gave her a tired glance before starting to care for his gear and rifle. She helped him put things away, as she sometimes did. Rex was the same age as her little brother, so it was easy to fall into the role of his silent helper.

"Nah. Doc tried to give me pills again, but I just can't. My head ain't clear when I'm on them," he shrugged.

"Is it clear when you're not getting any sleep?" Rip said with a teasing smirk as she leaned against the bunk bed.

Rex just looked up at her from where he'd sat down and raised his brows. "Was my performance today not up to your standards?" His tone was playful, and their banter was never hurtful in any way, even if it could sound that way.

"Could use a little polishing." Rip now had a white grin spreading across her face. Rex even snorted with amusement, but both their eyes shot up as the door opened. Rip couldn't wipe away her joy as Silas entered the room. She observed the silent exchange between the men, her eyes attentive while glued to Silas. His words caught her off guard for some reason.

"I'm good. The painkillers are doing their job. And it looked like you held up quite well without me." She didn't mean to say that, and yet it flew past her lips. This group would be the end of her. She'd already begun losing her composure, sounding almost jealous. Was it because she enjoyed being out on missions, because she hated being at the base, or another reason entirely—standing right before her?

"Silas is a machine out there," Rex boasted on Silas behalf. "Keep this up and you'll be one of the lads in no time.”

 

[Fru]

There was something in what Rip said that made Silas tilt his head slightly, a flicker of something he couldn’t quite interpret. But Rex’s words pulled him from the thought, and he let out a low chuckle—warm, genuine, straight from the chest. As he peeled off his vest, he shook his head. Strange, how these humans still compared themselves to machines as some sort of ideal… yet refused to be ruled by them.

“It was nothing compared to you,” he said, voice still warm from the chuckle. “But yeah, Eric sort of hinted I should start prepping for the next phase. So I guess I did alright.” He lightly touched the wound on his shoulder, rolling it to ease the stiffness left behind by the vest straps.

“Still,” he added, eyes shifting to Ripley, “I’d rather team up with you next time.” His gaze lingered. “Spoon was great and all, but I think we make a better team.” The corners of his mouth curled in a faint smile before he grabbed the towel folded at the end of his bed. “So you better focus on getting better.”

Truthfully, it didn’t matter much who he was paired with. What did matter was the shift he’d noticed in Eric—more focused, sharper—during today’s mission. And the likely reason was that Ripley hadn’t been in the field. Getting her back out there would throw Eric off balance again… which served his purpose. But that wasn’t the whole reason. Somehow, he did prefer her company more than anyone else’s.

“I’ll take a quick shower. You coming to the dining area later?” He slung the towel over his shoulder, glancing between Rip and Rex. “Spoon wants me to eat with him and Eric. Either he’s forgotten about yesterday… or he’s plotting some kind of revenge.” A half-shrug followed, amusement flickering behind his eyes.

 

[arcsteel]

So, Eric was fully incorporating Silas now? It seemed like it, and yet Ripley couldn’t help but think about the conversation she’d had with Ren. He was good. Maybe a little too good, for an engineer. And he knew the AI tech like the back of his hand.

She blinked when his gaze fell upon her, straightening slightly where she still leaned. An eyebrow arched when he praised her. Was he buttering her up? It sounded like it. She couldn’t quite figure out why, mostly because she herself denied the slight jealousy that’d been hidden in her words. One thing did bother her though, that made her ignore the rest.

“Spoon was great, huh?” Rip snorted. Spoon wasn’t bad at his job, but he was messy with explosives, had a bad aim compared to her and he might be able to throw a good punch, but it wasn’t better than hers. The only cred she’d give him was his ability to keep his head in the game, even with his bullying going on.

Rip pulled out her vape before plopping down on the bed beside Rex, who found his duty very interesting all of a sudden, leaving the rest of the conversation to the two of them.

“Even if I do come, I sure as hell won’t be dining with those two,” Rip said before dragging the steamed smoke down her lungs, letting it out as she continued. “I’m not gonna tell you who to get along with on the team, but don’t rule out revenge. Though, it might just be that Spoon was impressed by you. He likes to brown-nose those who he actually respects. And if Eric has need of you, he’d rather you be on his side of things. Who knows? If you become besties, maybe you can make him come to his senses.”

Even Rex chuckled at that, though not the perfect, warm sound like Silas used to make.

“But hey,” Rip said, pointing at Silas with her vape. “We’ll have a ceremony later. 8PM. We don’t wear weapons, to honor Jim and let him go in peace. I’ll definitely see you there, yeah?”