thelegion | Video

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[This day had to come eventually, didn't it? Just another one of those damn Blood Gulch Sim Troops arriving here to crash the party, and predictability a little late like always. But hey, it wasn't like he hadn't been busy saving a planet or being blissfully retired or anything equally as important. Nope.

The video shifted a little as Tucker tried to set it upright, but it soon found itself quickly propped at an angle that said this wasn't his first time recording himself; the purpose of such skills would be left up to the viewer to guess at their own discretion. But hey, have Tucker with that beautiful aqua colored armor looking right back at you, even as he sat back down and tried to appear relaxed, cool, okay with ...well, all this. All this.

Ladies in hot tight superhero outfits definitely helped.]

So, yeah, Tucker here. [It felt like an interview with Dylan. Good thing talking about himself was one of his favorite things to do.] Please try to contain your applause, but ladies, feel free to toss your bras in my general direction.

[No shame, this one.]

You know, I was kind of busy back home. [With Church shit. It was always Church shit, and there wasn't a single damn regret for it; in a way, he hoped it kept being Church shit because that meant that bastard was still around. Tucker wanted to be back there, needed to be back there because--] Those idiots - my idiots - have no one to lead them now unless you count Sarge and no one counts Sarge. Shit, I don't even think the Reds count Sarge. Okay, so maybe Simmons does, but whatever.

[He sighed, rubbing his hand over his helmet before he just waved his hand.] But cool, superpowers, am I right? I mean, if I was getting chicks before, I'm getting triple chicks now.

[Let the record show that he was not, in fact, getting ladies before, and that the triple of "zero" is still "zero".]

Look, I just want to get this shit done and over with so I can get back to being a badass back home and get my shit done. So, you know, I'll do what I have to, I guess.

[There's a sigh, that burden of few choices and responsibility - ew - before he cocked is head up.]

Hey, important final question: where do all the hotties hang out around here? There's the title of wingman up for grabs if you tell me.

[At least the video ends there, and everyone was probably better for it.]

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[What can she say, she's curious. There's a fair handful of Legionnaires who wear that kind of armour, and knowing who he knows would tell her a lot about him. ~~She just wants to check his references~~.]

There's a few old friends, and a couple I've gotten to know since I've been here. Chief looks pretty solid. Grif's fun, good for playing keep away from nightmare monsters.

[~~His references are totally bought and paid for.~~]

Wait, Grif actually did something? [Yeah, as if that didn't blow his cover.]

Who are you, anyway? [Probably a Freelancer. ...Right? Educated guess.]

He's done a lot, more that what I know since I got here. Without his help, the Robotican crew of the Silent Horizon would all be dead. [She crosses her arms, frowning a little at his reply. ~~What's your beef, dude?~~]

Legion name's Mirage, but most people call me CT. My friends call me Connie.

Yeah, I'm kinda hearing he's [more of a badass] different here than back home. Kinda glad he decided to pull it now rather than at the canyon; we might have actually had to put forth effort in that stupid fake war.

[Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. CT? CT was Connie?

Why the fuck wasn't she pissed at him? Why the fuck wasn't she trying to beat his face in? Why did she sound like a goddamn girl?!]

Um, no fucking way you are. I met the dude, and you sound nothing like him.

[Fake war? Then he must have been a sim trooper...which explains the attitude and the armour. She read the files about them when she'd hacked into Project Freelancer's database, if Tucker's aware that the whole thing was fake then getting abrasive with him wasn't going to help any.

Up until that last part, anyway. She sits up a little, switching their feed to a private locked channel as she frowns.]

You know another 'CT'?

[Well, that got someone's attention, didn't it? When she sat forward, so did he, leaning with one elbow on his knee and the remaining hand waving back and forth.]

Uh, yeah I do. The guy tried to fucking kill me in the desert.

[God, he hated that. He hated that whole stupid thing--]

He picked the wrong guy to fuck with, though. Church took him out with that dumb floating roomba laser face he was sporting at the time.

[The more the talks the more questions jump to mind. 'Church', he said. He can't possibly mean the Director, and what the hell was all that about a laser face?]

Hold on, one thing at a time. Why was the other CT trying to kill you, and what did he look like?

[She's got a hunch, but she'd rather have answers.]

Never saw his face. [Which, for the record, was vice versa as well. Asshole didn't deserve to see this beautiful visage.] He had brown armor though, different helmet then mine.

[The why--]

Tell me why you're so interested first, and then I might spill it.

[So. It was him. She'd seen him wearing her armour when the league of villains or whatever had kidnapped the native Legionnaires, tried to get him to see sense but she couldn't get through. Why? What had changed him?

Connie stands up and leaves the screen, but only for a moment. When she returns, she's got her helmet under her arm.]

Does this look familiar?

[Holy shit holy shit holy shit! Tucker stared at it, remembered staring down the gun as the asshole walked him nearly off the tall peak of the temple. His breath caught in his lungs, and shit.]

Voice modulator?!

[Because how else could she have sounded like him but--wait. No. That didn't make sense because she asked him--]

Wait, I'm fucking confused.

I'm not him.

[Connie sets helmet down beside her.]

But I knew him. Before he took my name and my armour.

I'm guessing it's not to run up your credit card bill.

[Tucker sighed, shook his head, then grabbed the edges of his helmet and took it off. Brown eyes stared back at her, careful, cautious.]

Why? Why the hell did he kill a bunch of innocent diplomats and try to steal alien weapons? Did he hate you that much that he wanted to set off a inter-species incident and frame you for it?

[Now that hits her like a knife to the gut, to hear just how far he'd fallen...and just how familiar it felt to the shit the Director had them doing for the sake of 'progress'. And she remembers seeing him at the broadcasting station off Legion World, so sure in his belief that he was doing the right thing as he tried to convince her that senseless murder was the right path to take.]

I think that has less to do with me and more with who he was working for.

[But if she had to guess? Grief. At least it started out that way before turning into a small kind of vengeance against the Director.]

You familiar with Charon Industries?

[Tucker didn't have the luxury of hiding the look of absolute rage that crossed over his face behind a helmet anymore, having foolishly removed it a few minutes before. Charon. Hargrove. If that wasn't enough of an answer, the curl of his fingers around his sword filled in whatever was between those lines.]

Yeah, I know it and the guy who runs it.

[His teeth were grinding. Breathe.]

What about those dickslits?

[Well shit. The sudden change and vehemence in Tucker's expression is enough to leave a bitter pit in her stomach. She'd thought Charon would be her way out of all the bullshit and lies way back then. Probably best she wasn't able to stick around for the tables to turn.]

That's who he was working for, even when Project Freelancer was running all the high tech train wrecks.

[Sorry, CT; it was just trading the devil you know for the devil you don't. And sure, Freelancer was horrible, shitty, cruel, wrong in every fucking conceivable way, but Charon was just as bad. Worse. Worse to Tucker, who had to watch a bunch of fifteen year olds fight and die just for profit margins.]

Charon was all about a-

[He stopped, brow furrowing, before looking around. Shit. The rule, the stupid, important rule.]

When are you from?

[If she had lived long enough to know she wouldn't have stayed. And then it would be 'escape from Project Freelancer' all over again. But with more alien weapons, it sounds like.

She blinks at the sudden stop, frowning past a tired sigh. Busted.]

Before Project Freelancer fell. But you don't need to worry about that.

[Tucker made A Face, before leaning back. Shit, there was so much he wanted to say, but this meant everything had to go into lockdown. Crap.]

Um, sorry, but yeah I do. I already said too much, probably.

You really don't.

[Have a frustrated face right back. Connie huffs a breath as she leans forward, weighing the bitterness in her next words. Outside of the Freelancer and the odd merchandise who already knew, she hadn't told anyone what she was leaving behind or what state she'd most likely return to if the Time Trapper left her in the state he found her.]

Over whose dead body do you think your CT will get his armour from?

[Well, that changed things, didn't it?

No, really. Did it?

For a minute, he just stared; it wasn't that he didn't believe her - he did; it was that he didn't know what to do now. Was it still safe to tell a dead person? Could that...somehow change things?

Probably not. ]

That sucks. [Teeth chewed his bottom lip before he asked. ] Freelancer did it? [Because what hadn't Freelancer fucked up?]

The Director never liked people knowing his secrets. I...defected when I found out. Everything. The tests, the lies, what he was really doing to all of us...to Alpha.

[shaking her head she has to consciously unclench her fists as her nails dig into her palms in memory. It's more honest than she's comfortable with but it's hard to hide the anger that's always been there.]

I didn't want me and my friends to pay for what he'd made us do. And they were who he sent to kill me.

So, like I said. You don't have to worry about it.

Church.

[It was instinct to correct someone when they said it. Alpha. Epsilon. Both were Church, and the name was out before he could stop himself, a different Church than the Director to him and his friends. And even after it was out, he didn't think anything of it. It was just his best friend, a name that never seemed to go away no matter how many times the guy died.

He stared for a minute, unsure of what to say; he knew some of the things that happened, knew of the stuff that he was put through, but he couldn't imagine the Reds and Blues being sent after him to take him out. Fuck.]

Shit I tell you, it stays here, right?

That's another thing I wanted to ask about.

[But that's also another confirmation, Tucker's 'Church' is Alpha. How the hell Alpha would find his way to a Sim Trooper base is a mystery to her, unless it was another one of the Director's convoluted plots.

Connie nods her head, matching Tucker's gaze.]

Of course. And likewise, I hope.

What do you want to know?

[And what he would give away. Church...as a certain topic, something important. And while Tucker bitched and complained and everything else, Epsilon's death created a divide, a caution on what he would share, to apparently dead people and still living.]

Lips are sealed, unless you're kissing me. [There was a small raise of his eyebrow; it was so much easier to joke than to talk about this.]

How many years ahead of me are you? I know I'm eight years behind Wash...

[And she's got the feeling that Tucker might be familiar with Wash, or at least some of the other Freelancers.

As for that last comment, she raises an eyebrow, replying in deadpan that would make Wash proud.]

Oh I don't know, you seem pretty fond of the whole kiss and tell thing.

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