"We did," she says. Carolina takes in a long breath, blows it out, and keeps speaking with her eyes closed.
"He was holed up in an old off-site storage facility. Freelancer had a lot of those, more than you'd think. It took me a years to track him down, especially once the Oversight Subcommittee started digging too."
The space behind Carolina is warping, slowly at first but then more definitely as the memory begins to fade into another one. Trees, overgrown concrete walls, a collapsed fence... Carolina makes her way through the abandoned facility alone but for the occasional white flicker of Epsilon at her shoulder.
"Epsilon got me in. The system wouldn't take my voice print anymore, but Epsilon? It thought he was the Director."
'Are you ready to meet your maker?'
'I got your back, Carolina.'
The Carolina in the present doesn't notice. She's remembering.
"I knew the security system was still online and that would be a problem. I didn't know what it was."
The memory blurs, fastforward, and finds them staring down an army. Every one of them is Tex.
The past Carolina freezes.
'Oh no,' breathes Epsilon.
'Church, what is this?' Carolina asks.
'He kept trying. He kept trying to get her right.'
"It was Tex. It was all Tex. Dozens of her," present Carolina says.
'You think these things are anything like the real deal?'
The black armored figures, in disturbing unison, punch one fist into the other hand and crack their necks.
'You have no idea what kind of trouble you are in.'
Finally, as her past self levels a pair of plasma rifles, Carolina notices what's happening.
"Oh fuck- I didn't know it was going to do this. Shit. Okay. It's fine."
She backs off and ends up standing next to York as the fight plays out.
'Carolina, I don't think I can do this much longer!'
'Just hold on!'
'Seriously! You need to slow down!'
'No!'
'Carolina! Calm down! Get ahold of yourself!'
"I couldn't beat her," she says in the present. Her hands are closed into fists and her shoulders are braced. She winces a little as she watches her past self slam into a metal crate, armor leaving a dent. She hits the floor. Epsilon begs her to get up, and she does.
'She was right. I can't do this. I can't beat her.'
Present Carolina looks away.
"I could never beat her," she and her past self say in unison. The inflection is the same, but present Carolina is much calmer.
She isn't looking away in shame, though. She's looking at what she knows is going to happen next.
Three plasma grenades stick to the heads of as many drones.
'NINE POINTS, YA DIRTY WHORES!'
"But I didn't need to beat her. Not alone."
The cavalry rushes in. The troopers are there. There's Tucker. There's Washington. Her disbelief radiates through the scene as the group rallies around Carolina.
'I told you they're not so bad once you get to know them,' Wash says as he pulls her to her feet.
"They came after us. I still- I didn't exactly give them a whole lot of reasons to. I was out of chances."
She smiles. Just a little.
"That's the thing about chances, York. You don't get to decide when you're out of them. It's all what other people decide to give you."
It's something she said to Wash, not too long ago. And the rest of the fight is a beautiful thing. She keeps talking.
"After this, we found him. I made my peace. That's... I'm not going to talk about why he's gone." She meets York's eyes, and there is something legitimately vulnerable there. "Don't ask me about that." She isn't ready to pull out that memory, it's something sacred, and her nails are biting her palm as she forces herself to stay far enough out of it that the dreamscape doesn't warp again.
"The official story is that we're heroes for taking down big bad Project Freelancer and bringing the Director to justice. I didn't stay with the rest of them, after. Wash did. Epsilon and I started hunting down equipment stolen from what was left of the project."
In the background, Epsilon has shut down the rest of the drones.
'What comes next, Carolina and I need to do alone.' Carolina will not let this memory go further. She will not. The image freezes.
"There's more that's happened since. But that's the story of how the rest of them saved my life."
no subject
"He was holed up in an old off-site storage facility. Freelancer had a lot of those, more than you'd think. It took me a years to track him down, especially once the Oversight Subcommittee started digging too."
The space behind Carolina is warping, slowly at first but then more definitely as the memory begins to fade into another one. Trees, overgrown concrete walls, a collapsed fence... Carolina makes her way through the abandoned facility alone but for the occasional white flicker of Epsilon at her shoulder.
"Epsilon got me in. The system wouldn't take my voice print anymore, but Epsilon? It thought he was the Director."
'Are you ready to meet your maker?'
'I got your back, Carolina.'
The Carolina in the present doesn't notice. She's remembering.
"I knew the security system was still online and that would be a problem. I didn't know what it was."
The memory blurs, fastforward, and finds them staring down an army. Every one of them is Tex.
The past Carolina freezes.
'Oh no,' breathes Epsilon.
'Church, what is this?' Carolina asks.
'He kept trying. He kept trying to get her right.'
"It was Tex. It was all Tex. Dozens of her," present Carolina says.
'You think these things are anything like the real deal?'
The black armored figures, in disturbing unison, punch one fist into the other hand and crack their necks.
'You have no idea what kind of trouble you are in.'
Finally, as her past self levels a pair of plasma rifles, Carolina notices what's happening.
"Oh fuck- I didn't know it was going to do this. Shit. Okay. It's fine."
She backs off and ends up standing next to York as the fight plays out.
'Carolina, I don't think I can do this much longer!'
'Just hold on!'
'Seriously! You need to slow down!'
'No!'
'Carolina! Calm down! Get ahold of yourself!'
"I couldn't beat her," she says in the present. Her hands are closed into fists and her shoulders are braced. She winces a little as she watches her past self slam into a metal crate, armor leaving a dent. She hits the floor. Epsilon begs her to get up, and she does.
'She was right. I can't do this. I can't beat her.'
Present Carolina looks away.
"I could never beat her," she and her past self say in unison. The inflection is the same, but present Carolina is much calmer.
She isn't looking away in shame, though. She's looking at what she knows is going to happen next.
Three plasma grenades stick to the heads of as many drones.
'NINE POINTS, YA DIRTY WHORES!'
"But I didn't need to beat her. Not alone."
The cavalry rushes in. The troopers are there. There's Tucker. There's Washington. Her disbelief radiates through the scene as the group rallies around Carolina.
'I told you they're not so bad once you get to know them,' Wash says as he pulls her to her feet.
"They came after us. I still- I didn't exactly give them a whole lot of reasons to. I was out of chances."
She smiles. Just a little.
"That's the thing about chances, York. You don't get to decide when you're out of them. It's all what other people decide to give you."
It's something she said to Wash, not too long ago. And the rest of the fight is a beautiful thing. She keeps talking.
"After this, we found him. I made my peace. That's... I'm not going to talk about why he's gone." She meets York's eyes, and there is something legitimately vulnerable there. "Don't ask me about that." She isn't ready to pull out that memory, it's something sacred, and her nails are biting her palm as she forces herself to stay far enough out of it that the dreamscape doesn't warp again.
"The official story is that we're heroes for taking down big bad Project Freelancer and bringing the Director to justice. I didn't stay with the rest of them, after. Wash did. Epsilon and I started hunting down equipment stolen from what was left of the project."
In the background, Epsilon has shut down the rest of the drones.
'What comes next, Carolina and I need to do alone.' Carolina will not let this memory go further. She will not. The image freezes.
"There's more that's happened since. But that's the story of how the rest of them saved my life."