Chapter Text
HK416 watched UMP 45 climb into the tractor trailer and close the door with surprising gentleness. The cold draft she let in pushed slowly through the renovated living space. First it ruffled the back curtains, placed to keep it out, and invaded the orderly common area already thrown into soda-bottled chaos by UMP 9’s hedonistic gaming binge. UMP 9 showed no reaction despite being semi-dressed. From there it passed G11, asleep on the futon whose face scrunched up. The draft ventured further, almost reaching 416’s video security terminal, but was killed by the heat of the commandeered server racks and generators that separated 416’s post from the main area.
Having silently entered, with only a deathly chill to announce herself, 45 quietly sat at the door’s little stool to remove her exoskeleton. 416 grumbled in approval as 45 untied her boots and left them by the door. 416 rolled her eyes in disapproval as 45 slung her gun back over her shoulder instead of securing it on the wall rack.
With her good vinyl hand, 45 navigated past the curtain. She walked soundlessly with a cool confidence, easily stepping over potato chip bags and plastic bottles without altering her natural stride. She stood over UMP 9, who was oblivious in her VR game. With a ritualized lack of ceremony, 45 dropped her SMG on 9’s exposed stomach.
“FUCK!” 9 shouted, kicking her legs up in the air, then slamming them loudly down on the ground, trying desperately to shimmy out from under the cold metal while not letting go of her controller. The trailer reverberated beneath her. 45 grinned like a predator. G11 pulled her coat over her face. 9 kept playing her game through it all before finally throwing off her VR goggles. 416 toggled the security feed to perimeter cameras just in case the noise drew unwanted attention.
“You almost killed me! I was fighting a boss!” 416 heard 9 screech. She was loud, even over the hum of the generators.
45 said something in her characteristically hushed voice.
“Nooooooooo….” 9 whined, “Why can’t we just use the drones? It’s cooooooooold.”
Another muted reply.
“Wait, really? No, it can’t be!”
416 toggled back to interior view. 9 was twisted around, stretching to shake the mouse hooked up to her gaming tablet. She was probably confirming the time, though what it specifically said was hard to read through 416’s feed. The security work station’s system clock showed it was almost 7 AM.
“Wow, yeah it is. Uuuuuuuuugh.”
45 gripped her over-charged sister’s power cable and disengaged it for her with a sharp tug. She coiled it and hung it from the wall while saying something. 45’s face was dispassionate, so 416 assumed 45 was invoking a pessimistic certainty, or a veiled kindness. Either or both. 9 threw a thick coat over her sports bra and seemed to think that was enough. 45 finally secured her SMG in the correct place and helped 9 attach her exoskeleton before she left. 9 let the door slam.
As 45 made her way past the futon and the generators, 416 tabbed back to exterior view. There, 9 was bouncing on her heels in the frost, letting the exoskeleton warm up.
“I hope that didn’t disturb your ice palace, princess,” 45 said, as she rounded the corner. “Though it looks like a dog’s made a mess of your great hall.”
416 gave the required glare. “Go to sleep.”
“It’s my shift as mission-control. You sleep.”
“You need to follow Deele’s defragmentation schedule. I’ll double shift. You get better. ”
“My throughput’s fine.” 45 looked over her nose at 416. “Did I interrupt your porn?”
416 sighed. “45, your diagnostics don’t even work. Trust your engineer and go to sleep.”
416 could feel 45 glaring at the back of her head. “What’s M16 been up to?”
“How should I know?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not the one with an unwanted fixation on commanding officers. You tell me.”
416 extended a rude finger behind her.
45 didn’t respond. 416 assumed she had wandered off in her standard silent stalk. With a sigh, 416 tabbed through more mission-control applications. Weather radar: no changes, no wind. Telemetry visualization showed the typical G&K night chatter along their regular perimeter routes. OGAS-side telemetry showed very little activity. Satellite feed was still overcast, so no visuals until the sun started to punch through. Civilian news was still curfewed. GKTV was just standard propaganda programming. Backchannel messaging had no updates. Interior cameras—45 was still standing behind her, baring a tired expression.
416 said nothing and tabbed back to exterior cameras. Daylight was still an hour away, but it was getting brighter out. She allowed 45 to subject herself to an hour of being ignored. It was an empty hour, spent mostly by listening in on G&K scouts arguing about this or that through supposedly secure channels. Eventually, 416 checked the interior camera again. 45 was still leaning against the wall watching the screen that watched her.
416 sighed. “What do you want?”
45 grunted and didn’t answer for a while.
Eventually, “Why haven’t you gone back to G&K yet, 416?”
“Mind your own business.”
“You’re my employee… so I’m…” 45 trailed off.
416 turned. 45 wasn’t leaning against the wall, she was slumping. She went stiff when she realized 416 was looking.
“Finally,” 45 said, playing it off. “Let me take over.”
“What’s wrong, 45?”
“Nothing,” 45 slurred. Bullshit.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Drinking what? You won’t keep it here. Let us keep it.”
416 stood and peered into 45’s eyes, trying to see if they could focus. “Is your gyroscope failing? Stand up straight.”
45 stood from her slump, then fell towards 416 and kissed her roughly.
416 pulled back, holding 45 away by the shoulders. “UMP 45, what are you doing?”
“Defrag. You told me—”
“—In bed! Asleep!”
45 fell on her knees and cradled her head against 416’s chest. Her hands grabbed 416’s back and hair. 416 peeled her commander off. 416 stood both 45 and herself up and then dropped 45 in the computer chair.
“Don’t defrag awake, you idiot! It takes up more free space than you even have. Just… sit here for a moment. I’m getting G11 so she can help me carry you.”
As 416 turned to go, 45 grabbed her hand. “…Leave me…”
“What?”
“Don’t…”
416 resisted the urge to yank her hand free. 45’s metal hand had a tight, cold grip. She craned her neck past the generators to demand some help, but G11’s head was wrapped tightly in her coat, and under a pillow too. With a patronizing sigh, 416 knelt down next to 45.
“I’m not leaving you. Will you please let me go?”
45’s grip released, though she didn’t withdraw her hand.
“You aren’t alone, 45.”
“Yes I am.”
“No, you aren’t. We’re… We are a family.” 416 blushed to say so bluntly what 9 said freely all the time. They weren’t her words. They were too… presumptive.
45 leaned down. “What does that even mean?”
“It means… Well, we—” 416 gasped as 45 fell out of the chair, her knees tapping on the rug on either side of 416. 45’s gentler vinyl hand snaked around 416’s neck and pulled her into a deeper kiss.
416 leaned back to escape, but 45 caught their weight with her strong arm and laid 416 gently on her back without breaking the seal of their lips. 45’s tongue pushed 416’s mouth open as 416 clawed 45’s jacket for a secure place to grab.
Eventually, 416 pulled 45 off of her. “Not in front of G11!” She hissed.
45’s hand fell onto 416’s breast, then pulled away. She looked embarrassed and angry.
“You’ll hate yourself if you do something like this while your brain is turned off.”
“Like you?”
416 grunted. “Yeah, like me.”
“But… maybe I won’t. Hate it.”
“Then I would.”
“You’re not drunk.”
“I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”
“…Of me?”
416 glared at 45. Then realize what she said. “Y-you know what I mean. ‘Let you take advantage of me.’”
45 smiled a wolfish smile at 416. “Com-man-der fet-ish.”
416 shoved 45 off of her. “Go to bed.”