>> Brave Fools

## Program Shutdown :: [The Vault]

"Woo! Yeah! And they TOTALLY listened to ALL MY SUPER AWESOME IDEAS!!! It was totally amaze-balls!" Badger yells, swinging Tufty about like a doll.

"Totally, lil mate." Zip teases.

“And! And! And!!” Badger bubbles, hoping and skipping and whirling his friend about. “And Kami said I was super smart! And-”

We all turn away, and snort. Demon knocking my arm with his knuckles, and smiling. “Zis….. Will it be backfiring?” He says. And I give him my best ‘ho boy, where do I start?’ look as Badger launches into a giddy, maniacal, rant about his ‘super-secret master plan’.

“Guess we’ll see.” I grin, then tilt an eye up at him. “Mean time, you doin’ okay?”

Demon blinks, slowly. “Me? I am fine.” His eyes flicker away. “Zis…. it is nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothin’.... You still hurt?” I frown, and he winces. Lashing my leg with that leonine tail as he turns.

“Nothing. It is nothing.”

My lips tighten. As he walks away.

“He is lying. He almost died during the night.” Intones the jagged machine of gears and numbers behind me.

“What.” My head snaps toward it. “WHAT.”

I turn.

But Polybius is already gone.

Leaving me blinking at Zipper - currently locked in a sword-fight with Badger and Tufty. (Which…. seems to be part of the explanation?) I shake my head, eyes tracking up to Kami - also in front of me - who snarls and beats on our clunky old 3D Printer.

Does…. Polybius want me to talk to them?

Well. I need to anyway.

Zip and Gremlin blast overhead as I sidle up to Kami. "Five." she growls. "Five! Come on! FOUR! You can bloody do it!" She raps the countdown on the Printer's bulky yellow pod, and it jitters horribly. "RRGH! COME ON! Just-" The thing jams on 'three' - and she kicks it, mercilessly, until it resumes. Finally letting out a long, tremulous, beep before stuttering to a stop. The hatch instantly pounced upon by the metal-armed spider-lady - who terrorises the thing until it gives up her prize.

Plus a massive stink of hot plastic.

"New guns?" I wince.

“Can’t beat home cooked.” She grins at me, lifting a pair of brand new, steaming hot, ‘LMG Executioner’ pistols. 10mm. Rocket-rail. “Titanium frame version. Overclocked, for high impact delivery. Plus upgraded capacitors, so they won’t burn out as quick.”

“Like the last ones?” I prod, drily.

“Too bloody right.” She smirks at me, flicking the weapons up into the air - where the inky finish gleams with inlaid lines of dark pink Almost imagery. She snatches both, and her extra arms slam fresh mags right up in there. They lock in place as the internals whirr. “Been itching to print these.” She grins at me, with devilish fire. “The guns they pretend we’re issued. Not the stripped-down knockoffs we actually got.”

‘They’ being the neoSoviet Empire.

“Yeah.” I hesitate. “Hey. Kam. Last night, did-”

“Hey. Niiiice. That art on em?” Zipper erupts over my shoulder. Dodging around me to peer at her guns. “Like - real, real, faint?”

“Nose out, blue-bollocks.” Our [Sniper] growls. Slapping his hands half-off as she slots the new pistols onto her thighs. Dark bluish armour locking them in place, nestled amongst the thread of gold circuitry. And eyes. Brassy, and sealed shut.

“Mate! Hey, like c’mon! Now I gotta see!” He cheers. Balancing precariously on his heels as he leans right in, with thumbs stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans. “Bet it’s, like, all pretty pink ponies in tactical vests? Right? And-”

Kami’s eyes boil with death and carnage. “I’m going to insert that console right up your-”

“Ah. Yeah. Alright, mate!” Zip rolls back up, shrugging widely. “But, hey, like now I gotta find out! Y’know that righ-?” Kami snatches up an empty reel of plastic Printer wire, and yeets it at his head. Forcing Zip to dip aside. “Woah!” He yelps, as she follows up with a trio of titanium powder pods that blast past my nose like missiles.

But this ain’t like last time.

On the Night Tyrant, she was a six-armed brawler dominating a narrow rear compartment. Packing him in with low ceiling, and narrow walls. Now? She’s a thundering, top-heavy, train-wreck skating on slick plastic wrappers. Forced to chuck whatever she can while Zipper, well, zips clear out of the way. Bounding from chairtop, to table, and back like a GMO.

Utterly untouchable.

“FINE!” She roars. “DON’T GET MURDERED! SEE IF I CARE!!” And then she stomps back to the printer. Jamming buttons, and muttering, until the tiny arms inside click and jerk into tremulous motion. Unpacking gears and wire, as the micro-welders burn white-hot - laying down the frames of two more guns.

“You n’ your pistol addiction.” I snort, and she slams her hands down. Taking a long, steadying, breath.

“Yeah. I got a real problem.”

“Right ya do.” My lip twitches. Our silence spinning out into a a savage morass, littered by the corpses of our conversation. “Look. Kami. Did….”

“Did I use all the titanium powder?” She rounds on me, with an overly dramatic stomp. “Yes! Yes, I did! I need guns. Alright? I know I bloody get through them, but-”

“Kami-”

Her hands rise to stop me, and she does some sort of Tai Chi breathing thing.

“A girl’s gotta shoot things. Y'know?” She drawls, in a calmer tone. Flicking back to the glitching, stuttering, old-school screen. The kind made of actual, physical, plastic - not virtual reality. “And Zipper has a whole damn swarm of guns now anyways. And a mini tank. He can wait for his tiny bloody missiles. And we STILL don't have that hand blueprint for Badger.”

"I'M OKAY!!" Badger yells, with a huge-handed wave that clocks him right in the skull.

"THAT AIN'T WHAT THE SHRINK SAID!" I yell back, making Kami snort. But I turn to her . “It ain’t about that.”.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

She blinks. Put out. “It’s not?”

“Nope.” I glance down. "Though. Material pods are pretty low….."

“Look. Alright. Sorry. Been…. I’ve been stressed out lately.” She grumbles, itching the scared flesh between the joints of her cyberarms. “Got a lot to think about. Been driving me nuts….” She tails off. Almost like she wants me to ask.

But I remember why I scurried on over.

And I trample the urge to oblige - guilty feelings or no.

“Did Demon…. nearly die last night?”

Her hands jerk. “What.” She shivers, then looks away. “Zipper?”

“Nope. Polybius.”

“Shit.” She growls. “I can’t punch Polybius.”

My head tilts, one ear up. “So.... What the bloody Hell happened?”

“Blood.” She mutters. “Blood is bloody right.”

“Kami. Please. No ‘code of silence’ shit. Not with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Her many fingers pause, their tapping quiet. “Spook. Look. You’re…. You’re up to your neck with Moon. Carrying a whole damn team on your back. And sometimes….” She stutters, and her head drops. “….it’s best if you just don’t know.”

“The shit it is. You could get us killed.” I jab her right in the face with my claw. “You saw him training today. What if I called a mission, right now? Thinkin’ he was all good?”

It’s a mark or my position that Kami backs off.

“Sorry.” She grits.

“Y’should be. Every bust lip and boo-boo is my business.” I jab again. “Now. Tell me. What’s this shit about Demon dying?”

“He can hear us-”

“How hurt?”

“Hurt.” She states. Face twisted through a rictus mass of expression. Her stony-white eyes twisted toward the others. But, after a second, she relents - flicking a hand to mute the zone around us. “Alright.,,,, He got torn up. Really bad. Nearly bled out on the way back. I was watching his vitals.”

And I wasn’t. Shit.

My own lip twists, and I stare at the machine.

"Knew he got hit, but…."

“It’s worse than you saw.” She carries on. Both of us ignoring the horned figure dragging itself up the stairs.

“Worse?”

“Wayman…. you know how they flipped to lethal ammo, right near the end? Or started to….” Kami answers. Softly. “Not quick enough to stop us…. But….”

“But….”

“But Demon took out half their ground force on his own. And I nuked their Carriers.” She leans against the wall. “They didn’t like that. Tried to nail him. And me…. But I had a big brick wall. Stealth. Holes to hide in.”

And Demon didn’t.

Jesus.

“He tried to cover it.” She finishes, eyes on the ceiling. “But I saw.... He was dripping blood and adrenaline all the way back. Drained his suit's mediPacks bone dry. Synthetic blood. Painkillers. Flesh nanites…. everything. Like trying to fill a drainpipe.”

And Demon’s ‘[Berserker]’ suit packs twice as much as mine….

Holy shit…..

“I smelt it, but….” But we were all bloody. All tired. All desperate to get back. And the rain. And the other smells. And I just wanted to sleep. And Demon’s a tough bastard…. And he was bandaging himself up fine…. And….

And so many other excuses.

I swallow. “How close…. d’ya think?”

“Close enough.” She retorts. “His back's a mess. Whole upper body, really….. Armour fractured, internally, and cut him up bad. He’s lucky his is extra thick. If he was in mine. Or yours….”

Dead…..

“He barely made it back to the ship. Spook.” Kami finishes. “Carrying Tufty, part of it. Loaded himself up on more synthetic blood, and dropped flat out. Then….” She stares holes in nothing.

“He nearly bled out in the night…..” I finish. “Holy shit….”

“Synthetic blood doesn’t clot. Did you know that?” She states, voice dead. “Not the crappy neoSoviet shit we have, at any rate. And it doesn’t matter, usually…..”

“Not unless you lose a lot of it….” I finish. “From a whole lotta holes….”

“Heard it called the ‘sleeper reaper’.” Kami says. “You get patched up. You’re fine. But you got too much synth in you, and it just…. leaks.”

“Kami…..” I whisper.

But she isn’t done.

“Polybius woke us up. Said something was wrong with you…. and Demon. But Demon….” She can’t look at me. “He was bad. Real bad. Me and Zip had to…. We had to glue him shut. And watch him. In shifts.” A deep breath as she twists her hair. “That’s why we didn’t fight your little nap. Sorry.”

“Oh….”

“Yeah. And that’s why we didn’t tell you.”

“Because you actually bloody care….” I mutter. Too low for her to hear. But out loud, I curse. “God. If any of you die, it’s my fault. My orders. My-”

“Spook. Shut up. Seriously.” Kami says, with all kindness. “You know you can’t control shit you can’t control. So just deal with what you can. Alright?”

I blow breath through fangs. “Very Zen.”

She stares off at not a lot, for a while. But there’s something eating her. Something deep. Dark. And scary. But she shakes it off. “Spook. Look, I’m sorry. I’m hard on people. I’m a bitch. A bad friend, honestly. And I can’t-” Titanium fingers twist. “I just-” The rage. “You-”

“Could tell me ‘bout it.”

But our [Sniper] sighs. “No. No. I just got done heaping crap on you. You don’t need my drama on top of that. Not when we’re already so beaten over.” Her head shakes. “Lets maybe lighten the mood, alright?”

“Sure. But…. what about you?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt too. Right?”

She scoffs. “Ribs are bruised. Big deal. Demon’s the one you should go help. Acting like some big dang hero….” A hand flicks, as if to knock the topic aside. “Anyway. We have to talk to him about that. But that’s not even our main problem.”

“Supplies.” I nod, slapping the Printer.

Which goes 'skreee!'.

“Damn right.” She grunts. “Wayman hit us hard. But they hit our kit harder.” She takes a breath. “Much harder.”

“Uh. How hard, exact-”

“Bad.” She gestures at the Printer. “Forget the pistols, even. Zip’s too giddy about the Carrier to have noticed, but his jet force is dead. Blown to bits, mostly.”

“He salvaged a couple.”

“Sure. And the Carrier is awesome.” She concedes. “But his new airforce is, basically, package drones with worse guns.” She starts pacing, back and forth in front of the printer. “It gets worse, too. I’m shit out of ‘big girl’ ammo.”

“For ya rifle?” I wince. “Crap.”

“You’re damn right, ‘crap’.” She tosses back her braids, and scowls. “I’ve got eight big dumb kinetic rounds, but that’s it. No plasma. No armour piercing. No explosive. Guided. EMP. Nothing. And that's just me, on my own. We're in a bad way here.”

“Well…. shit. Thought we had a backstock?”

“We did.” She shrugs. “But we’ve been burning ammo like crazy. Wayman this week. That Pirate war last. The week before- Well.”

We both wince.

“We’ve got pistol ammo coming out our ass, at least.” She finishes, patting her pistols. “Three bricks, and change.”

“Zip’s new drones are gonna snaff that. And the change.”

Kami blinks. “Oh. Shit. You’re right. Three hundred rounds. Thirty rounds per bot. That’s ten bots.... And how many's he got now? Forty? Fifty?”

“Craaap.” I lean on the printer, which makes weird noises until I stop. “And he bust his whole stock of micro-missiles. Didn’t he?”

“He’s got a few in his room, but nothing like enough.” She concedes. “If those Wayman turds hit us again….”

My ears flatten. “No ta.”

“Better tell them that.” She grumbles. Glaring at the printer, like it questioned her gun-art. “Grenades are low, too. Except for flashers. We’ve got billions of those. Zip wants to try recreating that airstrike thing they did.”

“Oh, I bet….." My head dips. "I’m gonna wake up with em all over me. Aren’t I?”

“Depends how much ‘rifle food’ I get.” Kami says. Sweet as sugar-lead.

I blink. “Rifle what now?”

“Big Betty is a hungry girl.” She half-teases, in a wrung-out little voice. Then sighs, rubbing her face. "Well. I'm tying. I really am. But you kinda ruined my good mood back there."

"That." I say, very slowly. "Was a good mood?"

She grins, painfully. "Little bit. Now - are we gonna feed my beast, here, or am I gonna need to get creative?"

"Yeaargh. S'long as you never, ever, call it that again." I grumble. Tapping claws on the printer’s screen to add a small block of her speciality rifle ammo to the order. The machine’s wails gaining a desperate tone as it lays out a series of white disks beside the guns. “Half guided explosive. Half explosive." I say as it begins to build a dozen tiny rocket-engines. "But forget having six pistols, and don’t blame me if they don’t bloody finish.” She flicks my ear. “Hey-”

“No plasma?”

“Good bloody luck. We don't got the cores.” I growl, claw-poking her nose. “You’re lucky Zip made out like a bandit, or he’d be pis-”

“Hey! C'mon!!” She flips me a rambunctious six arm-shove. “Don’t make me beat em out of you!”

I jerk back. “Yeesh. I-”

Her face falls. “Oh. Right. I actually do that." She sags. "Sorry. Was.... just trying to lighten the mood....”

“Oooh! Can we help!?” Badger whoops, waving a frisky Gremlin over his head.

I toss a pillow. “Nope! So, git!”

“Aw! But I was just gonna-!” He mimes tossing Gremlin - who swipes the air excitably, making cute lil murdery noises.

“Oh, you were? Were you?” Kami purrs. “Go on! Do it! I’ll shove you so far up your own butt your head pops out your mouth!”

“Yah! You can DO THAT!?”

“Yep!” She grins, wiggling thirty metal fingers. "Or maybe I'll TICKLE YOU!"

"YAHAHA!!!! RUN!!" He squeals - and they scamper, quick.

I snort. “Thought ya muted us.”

“I did.” She shrugs back. “I think Badger is leaning to lip-read.”

“Seriously??” My head spins to the dork in question. “Dang. If he weren’t an idiot, he’d be a genius.”

“That’s how that works. Yeah.” But the light of forced amusement leaves her eyes, once more. “Spook. If our next job doesn’t pay materials upfront, we’re toast."

"Yeah. I know." I turn to her. "It’s time."

"Time?"

A shimmer in the air, and I conjure a map of The Pirate Enclave. A single, bright, dot shining in the deeps. "To go find The Left Hand Of The Devil....." I turn to them, fire in my eyes. "Looks like we're gonna need that intel Moon stuck us with...."

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