[ He leans in and kisses her cheek. ] You're so sexy when you're murderous.
[ A cheap way to cut the tension, maybe, but he knows this job has got them both more on edge than usual, so he'll take what he can get.
With that he moves cautiously down the hallway, hand resting on the grip of his blaster. The hall splits off into two directions, and Peter decides to head right. Because, um, right shares more letters with suspicious than left?
(Actually he did eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head as they were heading up to it.)
The hallways have the look of a maintenance tunnel more than a living space, really, with pipes lining the walls and ceiling. It could be that the area is little more than a space for the water heaters or the fuse boxes or whatever, but it's as good a place as any to start. ]
We just need evidence. Leave Tukkir and his buddies to the Nova Corps. [ Peter feels he needs the reminder as much as Maya does. ]
[ Peter glances back at her briefly. ] Trust me. If this place is as shady as it seems, we should let them ship him off the the Kyln. I hear it's a whole lot shittier since the last time I was there.
[ And the last time Peter was there, it had been pretty goddamn shitty. The Nova Corps may be the law enforcement of the galaxy, and they may be their bosses from time to time, but their treatment of convicted criminals leaves a whole lot to be desired.
Perfect place for Tukkir, if it comes to it.
There's another split in the hallway up ahead, and Peter thinks he hears footsteps. He presses his back up against a wall, ducking in beside a pipe and pulling Maya beside him to do the same; he unholsters his blaster, just in case. ]
[ There's an "I know, but--" on her lips when Peter suddenly pulls her next to him, and she goes quiet instantly. As much as she loves her Maliwan armaments, the fact that they glow doesn't do much for stealth, so she tucks the gun slightly behind her, shielding it with her body. ]
[ Peter chances a quick peek out, watches as a man with blank eyes passes at a slow, deliberate pace. He continues down his intersecting hallway without even a glance down theirs; it's only when his footsteps fade entirely that Peter lets out the breath he was holding. ]
[ And then he's slowly creeping back up the hallway, blaster at the ready. He checks his corners again, making sure no one else is coming. Only when he's satisfied does he turn left, finding a door at the far end of the hall. He listens at it briefly, doesn't hear any movement. He counts to three, then slowly opens the door--
[ it comes out a little sharper than she means it to, the realization of what she's seeing making her angry to her core. She tightens her grip on her SMG, taking a deep breath in and out, focusing herself and channeling her anger towards the right people.
She slings the gun over her back and murmurs a quick "Sorry" at Peter. ]
[ Peter is startled by her tone, at first, but then he realizes what he said. His mouth is usually on autopilot, and seeing as how his default mode is "sarcastic as hell," he gets why she's offended.
He decides, as he moves further into the room, that maybe he should keep his big trap shut, professional mode only.
As he's looking around, he realizes he has no idea what he's looking for. He wishes Rocket were here -- he'd probably be able to tear this place apart and pull an answer out of the scrap.
[ She's hoping for some helpful documents, a formula for mind-control, something. Every drawer and cabinet she opens is full of medical supplies- harmless on their own, and not really proof, despite them being in a shady as fuck underground lab. ]
No.
[ She heaves a frustrated sigh, leaning against the nearest wall. She's about to open her mouth to say something again, when she hears voices in the hallway, just on the other side of the door. She freezes for a split second and- yes, yes they're definitely coming closer. ] We've got company.
[ She grabs Peter by the wrist and drags him to a door at the back of the room- a supply closet, she hopes. And it indeed proves true when she flings the door open, and shuts them both inside. ]
[ It's a damn good thing it was just a storage area, since knowing their luck, it could've just as easily been packed to the brim with cultists in a board meeting.
He slows his breathing on instinct, ear pressed against the door. He hears the voices of two people, one male and one female, and judging by their calm, monotone voices, Peter guesses they're two more of those vacant-eyed people.
Quiet as they are, he can only hear snippets of their conversation. Something about "new arrivals." "Screening." "Best candidates for the Process." (Peter guess at the capital "p" on that word, based on the emphasis.)
Suffice it to say, it doesn't sound particularly great. ]
[ Who the hell would even keep a board room at the back of an evil laboratory? (Evil cultists, probably.)
She's crouched slightly lower than Peter, ear to the door. Like him, she can't hear much, but what she can hear makes her blood run cold. She's wondering if it's worth it to try and interrogate these people- if they've been brainwashed, it's likely they won't tell them anything of use, and Maya has no desire to hurt them.
She glances up at Peter, lifting her arm in an approximation of her phaselocking motion, silently asking if capture is ideal here, but whether or not it is doesn't matter, because the door to the lab is flung open again.
This new person isn't one of the vacant-eyed, distant people. He's loud, crass, and obviously has no patience. "Out, both of you," he barks. And when the woman murmurs "Elders be with you" as she goes, he just scoffs and goes "Yeah, whatever."
There's a beat of silence, where Maya assumes that he's waiting for the first two to go, and Maya has a terrified moment where she wonders if these are some of the guards from before, and they've realized that she and Peter are missing. Their mission could be over already and they haven't even found anything...
"Bring her in," says the man, and the order is followed by muffled footsteps and noises of movement. Something dragging across the floor-?
There's a second voice now, still male, but younger than the first, "Didn't we already work on this one? If it doesn't take it doesn't take." Neither of them seem to be brainwashed- or at least what they've been assuming is brainwashed- it's clear in their volume, the way they talk.
"Yeah, but it's the boss' orders. He wants her as one of his wives."
"Man, really? He does know we can only try this so many times, right? I mean, this'll probably kill--"
"I don't make the orders, junior."
"It's fucked up, is all I'm saying."
"Say it a little louder, why don't you. It'll be you we strap to this table next."
During this conversation, Maya has gone from cautious to downright livid. How dare they. How dare they. They have some poor girl strapped to a table and for what? To try and brainwash her to death? They should probably try and take these men alive- get some answers out of them. How they're doing what they're doing and why, but right now all she wants to do is see them die in the slowest, most painful way she can think of.
She tenses visibly, hand going for the doorknob. ]
[ Peter feels his anger boiling as the conversation goes on, and he seriously wants to slam the door open himself and deal with these assholes--
But then he can practically feel Maya's rage coming off her in waves, and he has to force himself to keep his wits about him. He needs to keep a level head, needs to keep them both in check. And when her hand goes for the doorknob, his own hand darts out and grabs her shoulder.
He mouths the words, One alive.
Just one. Doesn't matter what happens to the second, as long as they get info. ]
[ Peter's hand on her shoulder snaps her back to reality, grounds her a little. They have a job to do.
Her little flash of calm doesn't last long, not when the first man responds to the younger one's grumblings with: "Just go get the damn collar."
And suddenly she's back in the abbey, she's scared for her life and so, so angry as they snap that goddamned collar on her neck, and suddenly everything is pain and her body won't do what she tells it to---
She's flinging the closet door open before she realizes what she's doing. She doesn't even reach for the gun at her back- her hand is already coming up, tattoos bright. She's full of rage, and wrath and ruin, and she channels all of that into her phaselock. Once again, she manages to surprise herself, not to mention the two men in the room.
It's the older of the two she catches in her phaselock, and the instant he's lifted off the ground, the acrid smell of slag fills the air. (A scent Gaige often likens to "piss and nachos".) The man is covered in it, it seeps through his clothes, soaking his skin, making him more vulnerable to the wave of destruction that follows- flame and lightning and acid explode and converge inside the bubble of her phaselock. The man screams, but only for a split second, because moments later there's not much of him left.
The younger of the pair is standing wide-eyed in the corner near the closet door. Fortunately- for Peter and Maya, at least- he has a Siren standing with wings unfurled and tattoos bright between him and any chance of escape. Maya doesn't trust herself to turn and face him, so she speaks without turning around, ]
[ He's hissing Maya, wait as she's moving, but he's too late to stop her from slamming the door wide open, before they can form a plan of attack, and so both of his blasters are in his hands as she steps out.
Once Maya gets the first guy in a phaselock, Peter guesses that their plan of attack is just attack.
At her suggestion (it sounds a bit like a command, really), he nods, more for his own benefit than Maya's, seeing as how she's not looking at him. ]
Check on the girl, would you?
[ He does his best to ignore the smell, does his best to ignore the crumpled heap of what used to be a person (also? holy fuck.), and steps toward the younger man. Despite the situation, despite the smell of burnt flesh and ozone, despite the sound of sizzling and bubbling and whimpering as the man realizes how fucked he truly is, Peter smiles while keeping both blasters trained on the guy. ]
Hi there. We just wanna talk. [ A beat, then, ] Actually, I wanna talk. I'm pretty sure my gorgeous girlfriend over here just wants to kill you, but she was nice enough to let you live. So, hey, you tell us what the fuck is going on in this shithole, and we'll totally get out of your hair.
[ Maya doesn't listen to what the man has to say- she doesn't want to hear him beg for his life, she doesn't want to know the details of what they've been doing here.
At Peter's suggestion, she simply nods. Her wings dissipate and she suddenly feels so tired. She doesn't know what the hell she just did or how, and honestly, she doesn't have the energy to think about it.
She moves towards the table at the center of the room, giving the charred remains of the man's body a wide berth. There's a girl there- human, at least in appearance, and young. Barely out of her teens. Maya clenches her jaw, as the last dregs of her anger threaten to bubble up again.
Focus on the girl, she tells herself, and checks for a pulse. It's faint, but there. She has no idea what they've done to her- she needs a doctor, a real one, but in the meantime Maya raises her hand again, and the girl is enveloped in purple light. She doesn't know if her healing abilities are enough to help, but it's all she can do. ]
She's alive. I've done what I can, but she needs a doctor.
[ It's as she's speaking that Peter fires his blaster at the guy, electricity arcing the short distance between the weapon and the man's chest and sending him into convulsions before he finally goes limp on the ground. Not dead -- the settings were too low to kill -- but certainly unconscious, and certainly with the promise of a whole lot of pain when the man finally wakes.
Peter doesn't answer her immediately, in favor of grabbing the guy underneath his armpits and dragging him into the storage closet he and Maya had just vacated. He closes the door and locks it. As an afterthought, he drags a nearby table in front of it, as well.
It's only when that's taken care of that he turns to Maya. ]
We'll make sure the Nova Corps gets her treatment. There's nothing we can do for her now.
[ She watches, face impassive, as Peter hides the man in the closet. She would have killed him. She would have aimed her little Jakobs pistol between his eyes and blown his brains out.
Nova Corps justice was not Maya's justice, but in the end, it wasn't really her place to decide. ]
[ He's checking his guns again before heading back to the exit. And he's-- resolutely not looking at her, doesn't want to see the reaction when he rehashes what the guy told him. ]
They're using collars, but we heard that much, already. Some kind of imperfect tech. If it takes the first time, it's semi-permanent for a few months, then they come in for refreshers. But it doesn't always work. Some people are more resistant to it, I guess. But by then they know too much, and--
[ He falls silent as he listens at the door. ]
We get our hands on one of those collars and it's all the proof we need. Then we high-tail it out of here, take it to the bosses, and let them take care of this shithole.
[ She's not sure how to react at first- she's put two and two together by this point, so on the one hand, she's not completely surprised. On the other--- well, on the other, she's still angry, but she's managed to rein it in some. She's simmering now, instead of boiling over and melting people with every destructive element she can think of. (If she were being honest, that display of power frightened even her.)
She takes a moment to just breathe- to find her center and try to remove herself from the situation, just a little. This can't be personal. It can't, or she's going to do something stupid again, and next time they might not be so lucky. ]
[ He's quiet for a quick second, because he wants to say something reassuring, or something that'll bolster her spirits, but--
He can't quite muster it. Because just a bit ago? Watching that display of her powers? Scary as fuck, and that clearly came from some-- really dark place, or something, and-- he has no idea what to say.
So he just swallows, listens at the door one last time, then leads them down the hall at a brisk pace, moving as silently as he can. ]
[ She thinks she should probably warn him- mention that slag acts as a conductor, and will amplify damage, so even if he's looking to stun, his blasters will probably still kill.
But she keeps it to herself, and she hates herself for it.
[ Second room on the right -- Peter listens at the door again and once more, doesn't hear anything. He eases the door open, revealing another storage room; metal shelves line the walls, and each shelf holds several clear crates containing at least hundreds of collars, probably enough for each person living in the facility. ]
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[ A cheap way to cut the tension, maybe, but he knows this job has got them both more on edge than usual, so he'll take what he can get.
With that he moves cautiously down the hallway, hand resting on the grip of his blaster. The hall splits off into two directions, and Peter decides to head right. Because, um, right shares more letters with suspicious than left?
(Actually he did eenie-meenie-miney-moe in his head as they were heading up to it.)
The hallways have the look of a maintenance tunnel more than a living space, really, with pipes lining the walls and ceiling. It could be that the area is little more than a space for the water heaters or the fuse boxes or whatever, but it's as good a place as any to start. ]
We just need evidence. Leave Tukkir and his buddies to the Nova Corps. [ Peter feels he needs the reminder as much as Maya does. ]
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At his remark, she gives a derisive snort. ] I'll do my best.
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[ And the last time Peter was there, it had been pretty goddamn shitty. The Nova Corps may be the law enforcement of the galaxy, and they may be their bosses from time to time, but their treatment of convicted criminals leaves a whole lot to be desired.
Perfect place for Tukkir, if it comes to it.
There's another split in the hallway up ahead, and Peter thinks he hears footsteps. He presses his back up against a wall, ducking in beside a pipe and pulling Maya beside him to do the same; he unholsters his blaster, just in case. ]
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What do you think? Comin' or goin'?
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You're so smart.
[ And then he's slowly creeping back up the hallway, blaster at the ready. He checks his corners again, making sure no one else is coming. Only when he's satisfied does he turn left, finding a door at the far end of the hall. He listens at it briefly, doesn't hear any movement. He counts to three, then slowly opens the door--
To what appears to be a vacated laboratory. ]
Well. This is a good sign.
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[ it comes out a little sharper than she means it to, the realization of what she's seeing making her angry to her core. She tightens her grip on her SMG, taking a deep breath in and out, focusing herself and channeling her anger towards the right people.
She slings the gun over her back and murmurs a quick "Sorry" at Peter. ]
Let's look around.
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He decides, as he moves further into the room, that maybe he should keep his big trap shut, professional mode only.
As he's looking around, he realizes he has no idea what he's looking for. He wishes Rocket were here -- he'd probably be able to tear this place apart and pull an answer out of the scrap.
He clears his throat a little awkwardly. ]
See anything?
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No.
[ She heaves a frustrated sigh, leaning against the nearest wall. She's about to open her mouth to say something again, when she hears voices in the hallway, just on the other side of the door. She freezes for a split second and- yes, yes they're definitely coming closer. ] We've got company.
[ She grabs Peter by the wrist and drags him to a door at the back of the room- a supply closet, she hopes. And it indeed proves true when she flings the door open, and shuts them both inside. ]
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He slows his breathing on instinct, ear pressed against the door. He hears the voices of two people, one male and one female, and judging by their calm, monotone voices, Peter guesses they're two more of those vacant-eyed people.
Quiet as they are, he can only hear snippets of their conversation. Something about "new arrivals." "Screening." "Best candidates for the Process." (Peter guess at the capital "p" on that word, based on the emphasis.)
Suffice it to say, it doesn't sound particularly great. ]
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She's crouched slightly lower than Peter, ear to the door. Like him, she can't hear much, but what she can hear makes her blood run cold. She's wondering if it's worth it to try and interrogate these people- if they've been brainwashed, it's likely they won't tell them anything of use, and Maya has no desire to hurt them.
She glances up at Peter, lifting her arm in an approximation of her phaselocking motion, silently asking if capture is ideal here, but whether or not it is doesn't matter, because the door to the lab is flung open again.
This new person isn't one of the vacant-eyed, distant people. He's loud, crass, and obviously has no patience. "Out, both of you," he barks. And when the woman murmurs "Elders be with you" as she goes, he just scoffs and goes "Yeah, whatever."
There's a beat of silence, where Maya assumes that he's waiting for the first two to go, and Maya has a terrified moment where she wonders if these are some of the guards from before, and they've realized that she and Peter are missing. Their mission could be over already and they haven't even found anything...
"Bring her in," says the man, and the order is followed by muffled footsteps and noises of movement. Something dragging across the floor-?
There's a second voice now, still male, but younger than the first, "Didn't we already work on this one? If it doesn't take it doesn't take." Neither of them seem to be brainwashed- or at least what they've been assuming is brainwashed- it's clear in their volume, the way they talk.
"Yeah, but it's the boss' orders. He wants her as one of his wives."
"Man, really? He does know we can only try this so many times, right? I mean, this'll probably kill--"
"I don't make the orders, junior."
"It's fucked up, is all I'm saying."
"Say it a little louder, why don't you. It'll be you we strap to this table next."
During this conversation, Maya has gone from cautious to downright livid. How dare they. How dare they. They have some poor girl strapped to a table and for what? To try and brainwash her to death? They should probably try and take these men alive- get some answers out of them. How they're doing what they're doing and why, but right now all she wants to do is see them die in the slowest, most painful way she can think of.
She tenses visibly, hand going for the doorknob. ]
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But then he can practically feel Maya's rage coming off her in waves, and he has to force himself to keep his wits about him. He needs to keep a level head, needs to keep them both in check. And when her hand goes for the doorknob, his own hand darts out and grabs her shoulder.
He mouths the words, One alive.
Just one. Doesn't matter what happens to the second, as long as they get info. ]
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Her little flash of calm doesn't last long, not when the first man responds to the younger one's grumblings with: "Just go get the damn collar."
And suddenly she's back in the abbey, she's scared for her life and so, so angry as they snap that goddamned collar on her neck, and suddenly everything is pain and her body won't do what she tells it to---
She's flinging the closet door open before she realizes what she's doing. She doesn't even reach for the gun at her back- her hand is already coming up, tattoos bright. She's full of rage, and wrath and ruin, and she channels all of that into her phaselock. Once again, she manages to surprise herself, not to mention the two men in the room.
It's the older of the two she catches in her phaselock, and the instant he's lifted off the ground, the acrid smell of slag fills the air. (A scent Gaige often likens to "piss and nachos".) The man is covered in it, it seeps through his clothes, soaking his skin, making him more vulnerable to the wave of destruction that follows- flame and lightning and acid explode and converge inside the bubble of her phaselock. The man screams, but only for a split second, because moments later there's not much of him left.
The younger of the pair is standing wide-eyed in the corner near the closet door. Fortunately- for Peter and Maya, at least- he has a Siren standing with wings unfurled and tattoos bright between him and any chance of escape. Maya doesn't trust herself to turn and face him, so she speaks without turning around, ]
You'd better grab him Peter.
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Once Maya gets the first guy in a phaselock, Peter guesses that their plan of attack is just attack.
At her suggestion (it sounds a bit like a command, really), he nods, more for his own benefit than Maya's, seeing as how she's not looking at him. ]
Check on the girl, would you?
[ He does his best to ignore the smell, does his best to ignore the crumpled heap of what used to be a person (also? holy fuck.), and steps toward the younger man. Despite the situation, despite the smell of burnt flesh and ozone, despite the sound of sizzling and bubbling and whimpering as the man realizes how fucked he truly is, Peter smiles while keeping both blasters trained on the guy. ]
Hi there. We just wanna talk. [ A beat, then, ] Actually, I wanna talk. I'm pretty sure my gorgeous girlfriend over here just wants to kill you, but she was nice enough to let you live. So, hey, you tell us what the fuck is going on in this shithole, and we'll totally get out of your hair.
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At Peter's suggestion, she simply nods. Her wings dissipate and she suddenly feels so tired. She doesn't know what the hell she just did or how, and honestly, she doesn't have the energy to think about it.
She moves towards the table at the center of the room, giving the charred remains of the man's body a wide berth. There's a girl there- human, at least in appearance, and young. Barely out of her teens. Maya clenches her jaw, as the last dregs of her anger threaten to bubble up again.
Focus on the girl, she tells herself, and checks for a pulse. It's faint, but there. She has no idea what they've done to her- she needs a doctor, a real one, but in the meantime Maya raises her hand again, and the girl is enveloped in purple light. She doesn't know if her healing abilities are enough to help, but it's all she can do. ]
She's alive. I've done what I can, but she needs a doctor.
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Peter doesn't answer her immediately, in favor of grabbing the guy underneath his armpits and dragging him into the storage closet he and Maya had just vacated. He closes the door and locks it. As an afterthought, he drags a nearby table in front of it, as well.
It's only when that's taken care of that he turns to Maya. ]
We'll make sure the Nova Corps gets her treatment. There's nothing we can do for her now.
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Nova Corps justice was not Maya's justice, but in the end, it wasn't really her place to decide. ]
So, what do we do now?
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They're using collars, but we heard that much, already. Some kind of imperfect tech. If it takes the first time, it's semi-permanent for a few months, then they come in for refreshers. But it doesn't always work. Some people are more resistant to it, I guess. But by then they know too much, and--
[ He falls silent as he listens at the door. ]
We get our hands on one of those collars and it's all the proof we need. Then we high-tail it out of here, take it to the bosses, and let them take care of this shithole.
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She takes a moment to just breathe- to find her center and try to remove herself from the situation, just a little. This can't be personal. It can't, or she's going to do something stupid again, and next time they might not be so lucky. ]
Did he tell you where to find one?
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Down the hall, second room on the right.
[ He takes a breath, then turns back to her. ]
We gotta do this quick. I'm sure they'll be missing those two dickwads soon. You ready?
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He can't quite muster it. Because just a bit ago? Watching that display of her powers? Scary as fuck, and that clearly came from some-- really dark place, or something, and-- he has no idea what to say.
So he just swallows, listens at the door one last time, then leads them down the hall at a brisk pace, moving as silently as he can. ]
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But she keeps it to herself, and she hates herself for it.
She just follows him silently. ]
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-- Holy shit.
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