Artificial

Tension

Operator Reach

Reaver opens two beers and slides them in front of us.
"Thanks, man," I reply, pausing to sip the golden drink. "How did you get to be bartender again?"
"I asked nicely," he answers, laughing. "Not a lot of competition for slinging beers in a warzone."
"Fair enough," I reply, and take a generous gulp of booze.
"So," I begin, turning to face Evo. "What's going on with you? I haven't seen you shoot that bad... ever."
"How bad was it?" Reaver inquires, barely shifting his discerning gaze from Evo.
"Two for eight, one in both arms."
"What?!"
"I know, right?"
"Evo, what's going on, dude?"
"Wraith is pissed at me. We thought she died, but apparently her med sensors got disconnected so her heart rate monitor was malfunctioning. So, Apex flew into a rage to avenge her. He refused to come back to FOB Ayala, and now that Wraith is back up and Apex is probably dead, she's blaming me for his likely death. You have to understand, I didn't want to leave him behind. But I know that look in his eyes. It's the pure rage and righteous anger that one only feels after the early loss of someone you were ready to spend your whole life with. It's how I would feel if I ever lost Vel."
"I feel the same, babe."
We turn around to see Velox approaching, in a small, faded, gray t-shirt and gray IAF sweatpants with a green-and-white stripe dashing across the right leg at a 45-degree angle. She fluidly drops into Evo's lap and wraps her hands delicately around the back of his neck.
A smile begins to form at the edges of Evo's mouth.
Ah, feminine wiles, you can accomplish what beer and bros cannot.
"We tried our best, Babe, but he wasn't going to change his mind."
The door behind us bursts open.
"Then you didn't try hard enough!"
Velox stands up, going from soft and caring to intimidating and strong in an instant.
"Oh for fuck's sake! I'm sorry, I'm done being quiet. You. Knew. Him. For. A. Day."
"So?"
"There's no way you're this attached to him. You're acting like you've been together for decades."
"You don't understand, Vel. Infiltrators are all about high risk, high reward. If we get detected, the odds are pretty heavy against us. We live fast, and we love faster."
"That... is the corniest shit I have ever fucking heard," Velox replies, and begins laughing, much to Wraith's chagrin. "Are you shitting me? That's hilarious, like out of some shitty romance novel!"
"Get up, bitch," Wraith orders. "Let's go, right now."
Velox sighs.
"I was actually hoping I wouldn't have to resort to violence for once. But, I guess I'm just too damn good at it not to."
Velox and Wraith both shift into fighting stances, circling in front of the bar. Evo and I are about to step in when we hear a loud clanging at the door, like the toll of a damaged, ancient bell. We turn around to see Apex standing in the doorframe, armor bloodstained and scorched. He strikes his helmet with the flat side of his armblade one more time, then retracts it.
"What the fu—"
"That base is clear," Apex reports, speaking over Evo.
"What?"
"I don't think I can put it into simpler terms, but I'll try for you, old buddy."
He clears his throat.
"Uh, let's see, how about... Roses are red, that base is clear. I fucking killed everyone, can I get a beer?"
Everyone is stunned, the silence only broken by Reaver opening another bottle.