When we left the intrepid crew of the Hound, they were on their way back after a close call and a very confusing mission. Even Lieutenant Commander Rackham was having some doubts as to the official story. Now we get to find out what's going to become of our heroes when they return.
By the time they returned to the Naval installation on Krixus, tensions were running high - very high.
Cole flew the Hound down to the landing pad himself once he received clearance, landing the old girl gingerly on the pad. His disdain for the job he'd had to take for the Naval Intelligence Division even managed to supersede his customary five-second pause before unbuckling his belt; he was out of the pilot's seat as soon as they made contact with the ground. Miranda had gathered her gear together and was the first one to the ramp, watching it impatiently as Cole made his way over to lower the ramp, staring daggers at the woman. If it were up to him, and they could still get paid without being at least civil, he'd toss her down the ramp. As it stood, he lowered the ramp and said nothing.
Miranda made her way down the ramp quickly, marching across the tarmac pad. Cole glowered down the ramp at her as Edward made his way over nudging him in the shoulder with his own.
"Come on, Cole," he said. "We've made it through this much; we might as well collect a paycheck for it."
"Don't tempt me to raise the ramp and chalk it up as a loss, Ed," Cole growled in response. Without another word, he descended down the ramp, falling in behind Miranda. Edward shook his head and descended after him, quickening his pace for a moment to catch up to the other two. The overcast, dreary sky gave way to the sterile, standardized hallways and corridors of the Naval installation that Miranda called home. Unlike the two behind her, she was comfortable here; her posture and her pace relaxed a little bit as she neared the front desk. The corporal behind the desk looked up from his tablet and sat up straight, kicking the private beside him to make him do the same.
"Welcome to Naval Installation Krixus, ma'am. What can I do for you?" Cole came to a stop behind Miranda, sizing the corporal up and making a face; he remembered having that same high-and-tight haircut and pressed uniform, all of his insignia neatly stitched into their corresponding slots. I can't believe I used to look like that, he thought, running a hand through his significantly longer hair.
"Lieutenant Commander Rackham, reporting in for Captain Beaufort. Inform him I've arrived, and I'm prepared for my debriefing," she said crisply, her tone carrying that commanding quality that commissioned officers seemed to pull out of thin air.
The corporal gave her a nod, turning to the console at his side and typing a quick message. The reply came almost as soon as it was sent out, and the corporal stood from his chair, assuming parade rest.
"Captain Beaufort has requested that you wait for him in room 216. The pilots of your charter flight," he said, looking at Cole and Edward before turning to Miranda for confirmation, which she provided, "will be debriefed in room 312. Private Ekerson will escort you to your respective rooms." The private at the desk, a boy no more than 20 years old, jumped to his feet and tugged his uniform top down to straighten it out. With a mechanical "follow me," he made his way from behind the desk and marched down a corridor. Miranda fell in behind him, with Cole and Edward in tow.
Miranda's trip was short; not more than twenty meters and one turn away, Miranda arrived at the room she was told to wait in for her commanding officer. Providing a formal thank-you to the private, she disappeared behind the door, leaving Cole and Edward with the child soldier to lead them to their designated waiting room. They walked quietly for what felt like a much larger distance, taking a few more turns and ending up at a non-descript doorway into what looked to be an interview room. Cole looked at the room, then looked back to the private.
"Look, kid, I know you have no idea about anything cause I was there once, too," he started, scratching at the scruff on his chin, "but what the hell is this? I'm not trying to file a report or debrief anyone. All I want to do is get the hell out of here." Private Ekerson stared at him like he was speaking in clicks and whistles, which Cole should have expected. With a sigh, he waved the conversation off and stepped into the room. Edward followed him in, taking a seat at one of the metal chairs on one side of the table. Cole heard the door latch behind them, and he shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right about this, Ed."
"Which part?" Ed turned his box head to Cole, watching him pace restlessly around the room. "The part where we were sent out into the middle of the Nether without any explanation? The part where we boarded a derelict freighter and nearly died? Or the part where we're now sitting in what looks like an interrogation room? Plenty of parts to choose from Cole."
"Why do I feel an I-told-you-so coming on," he muttered, scratching at the back of his head.
"Because I told you so," quipped the android. "I told you not to take this contract. You even agreed with me about it, but you insisted. 'We need the money' was your excuse, if I recall."
Edward leaned back against the chair and set his arms across his chest. "Just know that, if I end up being turned to scrap metal for this and there is some kind of incorporeal afterlife for sentient beings, I'm coming after you first." Cole rolled his eyes and went back to pacing. Edward remained where he was, sitting bolt straight with his arms across his torso.
Minutes ticked by, creeping toward an hour. The wait was driving Cole insane, and all it did for Edward was reinforce the notion in his mind that this was, quite possibly, the worst idea they'd ever had. Just under that hour mark, Cole had finally had enough. He marched over to the door and opened it, only to find a Marine standing guard at the door. Both he and Edward were surprised at this, but Cole's desire to leave overrode any curiosity as to the situation.
"Alright, look, we've been here for an hour," he started, looking between the two of them, "and no one has come in here to tell us anything. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?"
"I don't know, sir. I was ordered to guard this door and prevent you from leaving until I receive orders otherwise," the Marine responded, standing at parade rest and staring straight ahead despite the fact that Cole was trying to speak to him. "Now please, return to your room and wait for someone to speak with you."
"Yeah, okay, I get that, but can you at least radio up or message someone, or something? I'm not trying to be a dick, but I have other jobs that I would like to handle," he offered, trying his best to sound like a busy professional. It all fell on the deaf ears of the Marine automaton staring at the wall across from their door.
"Return to your room, sir. Someone will be with you shortly," he repeated. Cole stared at him for a minute before reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. Without another word to the uniformed puppet standing by the door, he shut it behind him. He shuffled back to the table and sat across from Edward, shaking his head. "I cannot believe I used to be one of those guys."
"Used to be? You're still an asshole, Cole. You just tend to have a smartass answer when I ask you questions," he said, delivering the whole thing with a deadpanned politeness that forced Cole to chuckle.
"Says the pot, calling the kettle black," Cole retorted. "For being a robot, you have an excellent sense of sarcasm and humor."
"I have to. I don't have a face to show you how I feel," Edward returned, quick as a whip.
"Probably for the better, anyway. I don't think I'd like you nearly as much if you were giving me a death stare every time I came to talk to you," he said. Edward gave his shoulders a shrug, and Cole just laughed. Unfortunately, the levity didn't last very long. Another hour dragged on, with Cole shifting incessantly from sitting down to pacing the room. Just when he thought he was going to come out of his skin, a sound caught both his and Edward's attention. What sounded like a muffled groan from the other side of the door put them both on edge, and when the door opened, Cole fully expected to have to fight his way to freedom.
"Rackham?" He couldn't have hidden the surprise in his voice if he'd tried. She said nothing, dragging the unconscious Marine that was guarding the door into the room and shoving him into the empty chair Cole had been sitting in. "What the hell...?"
"Let's just say I'm not with NID anymore and you two are my only ride out of here," she said, pulling a pair of zip-tie cuffs from the guard's belt and tying his hands to the back of the chair and his ankles to the legs. "We need to get going. Time now. They haven't figured out that I'm not in my interrogation room yet, but that won't last. That goes double for you two." She stood up and grabbed the Marine's pistol, tucking it in the small of her back before smoothing out her uniform top over it. She was striding out the door when she realized she was alone, forcing her to turn and stare at the dumbstruck duo.
"Well? Do you two want to make it out of here alive or not," she barked at them. Cole snapped out of his stupor and gave her a quick nod, making a motion to Edward, who was already out of his chair and heading for the door.