Rise in Revolution (Chapter Twenty-One)

[tanadin]

 A very Shac-oriented chapter, with an extra helping of Scott and some technical bullshit.

Chapter list: https://tanadin.dreamwidth.org/650.html
World map: http://tanadin.deviantart.com/art/Kaldriel-RiR-map-594639189

Chapter Twenty-One

Everything to Say

Kyir’s house, Sector IAL. January 21, 2272. Time instance 842N.

Tanadin knocked carefully on the door to Kyir’s workshop. “You in there, Lu’ann?” It was a rhetorical question. He had been in there since getting up the previous day- she had found him passed out in a chair beside a workshop the night before. She had put a blanket on him and left him be. He was angry about Fan coming into his room twice and although he wouldn’t talk about it, Tanadin was almost certain that Fan had seen his eyes, not to mention the pictures in his room.

“No.”

“Kyir…”

“Actually, hang on. Yes. Can you get Seven for me?”

“What for?”

“To explain the total bullshit I have spread out on the table in front of me, why else?”

Tanadin cautiously opened the door, automatically dodging the small metal item that Kyir tossed her way. Inside, she could see the pieces of one of the three thousand units set on Kyir’s workbench and a table. He had spent a good chunk of yesterday separating the metal from the flesh in order to examine the cyborg without it rotting.

“Kyir, what the hell.”

“I don’t know! Get Seven.”

“Where is Seven?”

“Babysitting duty with Scott, I think. Last I heard, our resident not-a-drug-dealer was investigating an old car carcass that Hawk found when hunting yesterday. He had one of the earth elementals drag it back this morning. It’s near the lake, near street 3.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tanadin sighed. “Why can’t you get him yourself, again?”

“If I see Fan, I’ll murder her,” Kyir told her almost cheerfully. “And I don’t think you want that.”

“No. No, I don’t. Fine, I’ll go get Seven for you.”

“Great. Could you toss me that screwdriver I threw at you, also? I need that.”

Tanadin rolled her eyes and tossed it back before leaving the workshop, shutting the door behind her. She navigated away from Kyir’s house towards the lake, noting the people in the streets. They chattered more than they had previously, but kept glancing nervously at the sky. Seven had assured them the previous day that the anti-aircraft turret was functioning and that the Mainframe couldn’t reach them, but everyone was still afraid.

Who wouldn’t be, though? Tanadin shuddered as she passed a small group of injured humans, who fell silent as she passed. They know my name. They know who I am. I am somebody and I never thought that the reason would be revolution.

She sighed in relief as she stepped off of the paved street onto the dirt, seeing a rusty metal something a ways away closer to the lake. As she approached, she could hear a voice that was definitely Scott’s making ridiculous fake car noises. Tanadin crossed her arms when she stood a few yards away, watching her friends in amusement.

The car was nothing more than its exterior husk and seats, with its roof, wheels, and engine all gone. The windows were jagged lines of glass along the bottom of what was once frames, and the windshield was cracked and missing part of its top. Scott sat in the ragged old driver’s seat, making what he probably thought were very realistic driving car noises as he spun the old, loose steering wheel. Seven sat, arms crossed, in the rotting and half-collapsed passenger’s seat, looking thoroughly unamused by the events currently unfolding. He looked up as Tanadin approached.

“What’s wrong with this picture?” Seven asked her, standing up.

“Um...the car has no engine?”

“No. I’m in it.” Seven jumped out of the car and strolled away without a backwards glance.

“Wait! Kyir wanted to talk to you! And who’s babysitting Scott now?”

“You,” Seven called, still not turning around.

Tanadin sighed and looked back at Scott, who had stopped driving to look at her. “Get in, loser, we’re escaping some zombies.”

~~~

Kyir’s head snapped up as someone opened the door. He prepared to throw the screwdriver in his hand again when he realized it was Seven and lowered his arm. “There you are. Come on, I want you to look at this.”

Seven stepped forward to stand by the table. “What?”

“Half of this shit is really similar to your own, and the other half is totally different. What the fuck.”

“He was a three thousand unit. Some of our parts are different, such as energy reserves and his extra weapon ports.”

“Alright, so the two thousand unit over on that other table over there is like a shittier version of you. Why?”

“He’s a two thousand unit.”

“I can see that.”

“They’re essentially inferior seven thousand units. Less robotic and with less free thought. Seven thousand units are better in almost every way, but primarily mentally.”

“Why?”

Seven shrugged. “It’s more expensive to make a seven thousand unit than a two thousand unit, and most of the higher reasoning and mental capacity that makes up the majority of our improvements aren't really needed on the battlefield, or for a standard light infantry unit. That’s really only needed for the more complex jobs, such as say, peace keeping, which requires adaptability. The physical hardware improvements are primarily just because the now more expensive asset affords more protection.”

“Okay, then what’s a three thousand unit?”

“Heavy military units. Three thousands aren’t as fast or agile as seven thousands, but they’re built like tanks with better shields and more weapons. Nine thousands are similar, but far superior to all units in almost every way- they’re not as agile as seven thousands either, but far more so than three thousands, and have much better shields and energy capacity, not necessarily due to improvements in design, but because of better components, as in the nine thousand units aren’t build with cost as a consideration, so the Mainframe’s willing to use parts of a quality far past the point where the diminishing returns on increase cost for better performance would normally not make it worth doing.”

“What are one thousands? They seem to suck.”

“They do, as far as combat is concerned. They’re non combat units, used primarily for maintenance  purposes- monitoring a system, fixing broken wires, that kind of thing. The-”

Seven was cut off by Shawn opening the door to the workshop and poking his head in. “Have either of you seen Scott?”

“I was babysitting him earlier, why?”

“A certain baby phoenix in the next room wants to see him.”

Seven nodded. “He’s with Tanadin, out by the lake at the destroyed car.”

“Thanks.” Shawn shut the door.

~~~

Shawn raised an eyebrow as he approached the old shell of the car where Scott and Tanadin sat. Tanadin appeared to be pretending to shoot at imaginary monsters while Scott drove and shouted, making car noises the whole time.

“Bam!” Shawn suddenly shouted, making Tanadin yelp and jump in her seat, head whipping around.

“Shawn! What the hell was that for?”

Shawn burst into hysterical laughter. “Had to get your attention somehow!”

“You’re being eaten by zombies,” Scott informed him. “Get in the car.”

“And run out of plot devi- I mean, gas?”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME, SHAWN!”

Shawn snorted. “Anyway, Clash is wanting you back in the Black Market.”

Scott immediately got up and jumped out of the car, Tanadin not far behind. “Okay. We’ll get back to escaping the zombies later. We should bring Sadie next time.”

“No way. She gets people killed.”

Shawn rolled his eyes as he led the way back to the Black Market, sitting down at an empty table once they got there. Tanadin joined Emma, smiling at her silently, as Scott scooped up Clash in his hands and sat down. Clash was growing quickly, as regenerated phoenixes often did, and was able to disable the destructive burning of his flames.

Shawn’s eyes drifted across the forms of his friends until they paused on Tac. A slight smile pulled itself on his face until it died at the sight of her struggling with a glass bottle- one of Mars’. She swore quietly until Jimmy, sitting next to her, picked it up and held it up for her to drink from. Tac thanked her quietly, clicking her metal claw-fingers against the table surface.

“Sorry you can’t handle that,” Jimmy told her. Gali snickered quietly. Tac glared at her suspiciously.

“Don’t.”

“I have to hand it to you, that’s a scary glare,” Gali said, giggling.

“Your hair looks great, by the way. How do you do anything with it so long? Looks like a very hands-on job.”

Tac jumped to her feet, slamming her hands into the table. “I’ve had it with you two!”

Shawn stood up and crossed the room as Tac stepped towards them. Gali scrambled back, falling out of her chair, but Jimmy stood up. “You leave her alone!”

“You guys are being serious assholes!”

Shawn grabbed Tac’s arm. “Tac.”

“Stay out of this!” She pulled out of his grip and stepped forward to stand in front of Jimmy, metal clicking as her hands balled into fists.

Shawn sighed and scooped up his drunk friend, ignoring her yelp of protest and wild flailing.

“PUT ME DOWN! I NEED TO KICK JIMMY’S ASS!”

“C’mon, Tac.” Shawn turned and carried her out of the Black Market, thanking Cap when she opened the door to Kyir’s house for him as they passed. Tac struggled to get free, but her attempts were somewhat half-hearted and she stopped entirely by the time they were walking along the quickly darkening street.

“Can I put you down? Are you going to behave?”

“Mhm.” Shawn set Tac down and she barely was able to support her own weight for a moment, leaning against him until she remembered how to stand properly. “Sorry…”

“Hey, it’s okay. If they kept that up I might have punched them myself. That’s kinda insensitive, you just lost your hands.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tac mumbled, crossing her arms as if to hide the contraptions at the ends of her arms. “I hate it.”

“Hey.” Shawn hugged her briefly. “You’ll be okay. Kyir will make you some better replacements once he’s got time, right? It’ll be okay.”

Tac shivered and didn’t answer, afraid that if she did, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes would find an escape route. She took several seconds longer than Shawn to let go, and stayed close to him the whole way as he walked her back to her room.

When she was inside and he was about to leave, Tac found her voice betraying her, speaking on its own. “Please don’t go.”

Shawn looked at her in surprise, and Tac silently cursed herself, hoping that he would shrug it off as it being the alcohol. It was, partially. Its escape from her certainly was. Tac sighed in relief when he shrugged and came in, shutting the door behind him before sitting next to where she had sat on the bed and let her lean slightly on him. Tac’s head was spinning with emotions and was fuzzy from the alcohol, and she decided to sort it all out in the morning, if her head wasn’t pounding.

Shawn smiled slightly at her several minutes later when he realized that she’d fallen asleep leaning on him. He carefully got up and gently set Tac down on the bed, covering her with a blanket. He turned off the lights and left, glancing behind him as he did so.

He shut the door reluctantly, and walked home with only Tac on his mind.