Chapter Text
"What're you doing?”
There was a bit of a broken rhythm to the bar’s ambiance. It wasn’t the highest class sort of place to be stuck in to begin with, but they kept the music playing at least. And that in itself should have been his tip off that things were getting ready to fly south quicker than usual.
The stuttering remix hardly got a rise out of the other patrons either. That was what made it so simple to ignore.
He reached up without looking away from his palm pad, grabbing a drink from the zipping by automaid, and brought it back down to his lips without even thinking twice about the commotion over his earpiece.
The blinking blip on his readout remained in place.
“What?” Church finally asked, letting his eyes dart up into the crowd for just a moment before returning to the map.
“Church! What the fuck are you doing? I need you to confirm. I mean, goddamn, dude!”
“What, you don’t trust your own eyes?” he scoffed in return, reaching up to his ear and fiddling a bit with the earpiece. “Your reception’s good. Did I fix it this time or are you close by?”
“You can’t fix shit. I’ve got eyes on the guy, nearby. Just tell me if that’s our guy!”
“Jesus, Tucker, calm down,” Church groaned before taking a long swig from his cup and looking back to rest of the bar. He scowled a bit, turning off the palm screen and pocketing the minute device as he checked around.
“What the hell were you doing anyway?” Tucker asked almost scornfully.
“Making sure our transport didn’t take off without us, Tucker. It’s kind of important if we want to get off this piece of shit rock after we bag--” Church stopped short as his eyes came across a stocky man, his faded neon pants and awful excuse for a crown line doing little for him other than to be some pretty dead give aways for the same guy responsible for stealing an entire cargo from a friendly Kig-Yar collective sent to the UNSC.
“Dude, Sheila wouldn’t leave me. Sheila loves me. She packed me a lunch for today.”
“Tucker,” Church spoke up again, not tearing his eyes from the target even as he pulled the last credit out of his pocket and handed it toward the nearest floating automaid to swipe. “You want your confirmation? You’ve got it.”
“Fucking finally. Okay, I’m by the exit, so if you want to approach him right now I can block him off--”
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute, I gotta make sure he doesn’t have anything on him,” Church muttered as he slowly made his way toward the table where the thief was all too comfortably sprawled out.
Only a few feet from the table, Church began reaching for the back of his belt, feeling for the hilt of his gun when a shoulder crashed into his arm, nearly sending him spinning on his heels.
“What the fuck--” he growled, looking as the other passed only to feel his chest clench painfully at the familiar back walking away into the crowd.
Church dropped his shoulders and stood dumbfounded. “Tex?” he asked almost weakly before rushing after the woman all in black. “Hey! Wait, Tex!”
“Tex? What the fuck is she doing here? Is she going after our guy? Church, don’t let her take our guy! We need that bounty! How am I ever going to get a ship without us ever getting a--” Tucker near yelped over the their commlink. “Church? Church, are you there? Aw, fuckberries! Not again--”
Ignoring his partner, Church raced after the woman, nearly knocking over every other patron in his way and flicking at least one of the floating automaids from the air in order to get to her.
“Ohhhh, no you don’t, you owe me--” Church growled out before grabbing the woman’s shoulder and turning her around just in time to get smacked in the face with a purse.
Church vaguely heard the gasps and laughs from the rest of the crowd as he went reeling back from the hit, hand reaching up to his reddened face immediately. But he was more baffled as he let out, “Tex doesn’t carry a purse--”
The woman, who once around showed to be far from the muscle toned freelancer with a winning scowl Church knew, was shaking with anger as she twirled her accessory. “I am so sick of getting grabbed in bars!”
“I, uh, thought you were someone else. Sorry,” Church grunted just before there was screaming and the firing of a gun from back behind him. He turned around quickly and threw up his hands in aggravation before racing over. “Don’t get started without me!”
“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” Tucker howled over comm. “He’s heading out the back! Cut him off from the front!”
“Got it!” Church yelled back, skidding to a halt before redirecting himself toward the front of the bar, leaping over the last table and taking off toward the streets. “Meet you there!”
He had barely burst out onto the streets and turned himself toward the alley when Church felt another full body freeze and stepped closer to the curb, keeping his feet in jog. He glared knowingly at the shitty vehicle parked beside the bar curb and, in particular, at the tubby driver snoozing audibly in the driver’s seat.
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me, them?” Church cried out before heading toward the alley. “Tucker! Listen to me!”
There was a yelp over the earpiece before Tucker screamed out, “WHAT?”
“Push this guy the other direction. We’ve got competition. Stupid fucking Warthog trash are here--”
“CHURCH! We’re on the fucking roof, dude, I don’t know how much more of an exclusive I can get us beyond that!”
“What, seriously?” Church asked before looking up. “Ugh. I’ll meet you there. Hold tight!”
“I can’t!”
“Just do it!” Church screamed back as he rushed into the alley and looked for the nearest ladder. “I’m on my way!”
Tucker glared forward as he continued pursuit, exhaling thickly through his nose as he listened to his teammate. “On his way my fine ass,” he snapped.
The asshole they were after was running out of roof fast, and Tucker couldn’t wait to see the dumb look on his face once that happened. Which was a little too soon for the bounty’s liking.
He backed away from the ledge, getting a good look at the distance to the next roof and realizing that, since it wasn’t a fucking movie, it probably wasn’t the best idea to leap over the distance.
“Ho ho! Look at this!” Tucker laughed, pulling his gun as he slowed to a stop just a few feet from the man. “Ran out of roof so soon, buddy? What a shame!”
The man turned, raising his hands. “I-I don’t want any trouble!”
“Pfft, fuck that! You shot at me first, dude!” Tucker ground out, holding his gun higher. “By the way, asshole, you’re a terrible shot. I have no idea how you’ve managed to steal what you have.”
“I never shot anyone!”
“Obviously!”
Tucker heard the loud wheezing and annoyed garbling behind him before the bounty ever looked over Tucker’s shoulder toward their approaching company. Which was fine, because Tucker didn’t need to look to know that it was the asshole he was still mad as hell at.
“Whoo. You guys got far. Want to introduce me?” Church asked, pulling out his gun as he got by Tucker’s side.
Tucker took his eyes off the bounty and growled out, “You know what, Church? Why don’t you head back in and get a few more drinks with Tex. Obviously this is one I’m handling alone anyway.”
Church looked back at him. “What? Oh. It wasn’t Tex--”
“Oh, gee. Fucking imagine. It’s never Tex, dude! That’s the goddamn point!”
“Oh, don’t start. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Eye twitching slightly, Tucker waved toward their target. “Hey, asshole, doesn’t matter that you’re here now. I had him. It was under control. I’m just going to take this one and cash it and be that much closer to my own fucking ship so I don’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore!”
Church blinked, almost in surprise. “What? You’re not taking all the money on this one! It’s fifty-fifty--”
“He almost got away because you’re too busy dicking around in a bar, pining over old bitches!”
“Ha. I want you to say that to Tex’s face,” Church sneered.
“Fine, I will. I’m pretty sure she likes to refer to herself as Queen Bitch for a reason, though, Church!” Tucker snapped back.
“What’s your problem with Tex?” Church growled a little more aggressively.
“I don’t have a problem with Tex. My problem is with my asshole, unreliable partner--”
Stopping only as they were cut off by a desperate yell, Church and Tucker both turned to look just as the hijacker tried to dive for their guns. Without a second’s hesitation, they both slid to the sides, allowing the man to stumble past them and right toward the edge.
“NO!” they both yelled, reaching too late as their target tumbled over the side.
“Why didn’t you catch him!?” Church screeched. “I was diving away--”
“Why didn’t you!? I was diving away!” Tucker yelled back.
He looked over the ledge just in time to see that the bounty was dangling just two windows below, two red garnished men sticking out from the window keeping him hoisted up.
“Good work, Simmons!”
“Thank you, Sir!”
Tucker’s fingers dug into his palms as he watched the Reds pull the prize right into the building. “Aw, fuckberries!” he growled, looking back just to see Church already heading toward the ladder. “Church! The assholes from the Warthog are here--”
“I fucking know! C’mon, if we’re lucky we can cut them off. Their driver’s asleep!”
“Goddammit!” Tucker roared, tearing after Church. “This is all your fault!”
“It is not!”
“It so is!” Tucker snapped, leaping down the levels of the escape rather than taking the meticulous stepping Church was opting for. He landed on the pavement and glared up. “Hurry your ass up, dude! Or tell me where it is--”
“Right at the--” Church looked up, Tucker following his gaze just in time to see the Reds tossing the bounty into a waiting car and taking off at top speed, music obnoxiously blaring. “Son of a bitch.”
Somewhat in awe, Tucker jogged toward the road, watching the vehicle speed away with their reward money -- not to mention the food budget, the repairs budget, and the Tucker gets his own ship budget. He then turned to face Church as the man came up closer.
“I’m not losing another paycheck to those assholes!” Tucker growled.
“Yeah, me neither,” Church replied, reaching to his earpiece before running toward their speeder.
Tucker didn’t hesitate to follow. “What’re you doing?”
“Shut up a second, Tucker,” Church snapped. “Sheila? It’s me! Who else would it be? Get ready to rumble. We’ve got a space fight on hand!”
“Aw, dammit,” Tucker moaned. “This will end well.”
Sheila always found herself waiting on the return of her crew not in glorious success, but half panic and more than a seventy percent chance of walking away without a paycheck. Its consistency alone had her somewhat impatiently waiting for the call where her captain said that everything was falling apart.
That call had come at least fifteen minutes earlier than scheduled.
“SHEEEEEEIIIIIIIILLLLLAAAAAAAA!!!”
Without so much as a blink, the AI looked to her control panel and assured herself that the hatch was already opening while Church and Tucker raced across the docking bay to get to her.
“Start the engines start the engines!” Church cried out from the back, impatiently yanking (rather uselessly) on the hatch doors as if that would quicken their closing behind him and Tucker.
“Sheila! We’re up shit creek without a paddle!” Tucker called out, diving for the pilot’s chair. “Think you can go ahead and lock on the Warthog’s signal?”
“I already have the Warthog pulled up,” she informed Tucker, waving toward the bay screen. “Not to be presumptive about your failures.”
“Nah, it’s okay, I presumed it, too,” Tucker responded with a wave.
“What!? Oh you fucking -- Sheila!” Church screamed, racing to the front. “Are you telling me you knew the Red guys were here and didn’t tell us?”
“You didn’t--”
“And don’t tell us it’s because we didn’t ask!”
“You did not ask, Captain,” she informed him, hands on her hips as she narrowed her eyes in warning. She tilted her robotic head down to Tucker. “During take off, unstrapped in passengers often have colliding injuries...”
“Nah, sorry, Sheila, I need him for now,” Tucker responded as their ship began to rattle with takeoff. “Besides, pretty sure you would be left to Tex in his whipped-ass will.”
“Oh, I would very much like that,” Sheila said, tapping her chin.
“Tucker, man, you’re not helping my crazy ass ship AI’s desires to kill me,” Church growled.
“Depends on which results you’re hoping for-- HERE WE GO!” Tucker cried out just as their thrusters blasted.
Sheila smiled proudly at how well her tutoring had made their young pilot over the short time since he was brought onto their crew. She had grown rather fond of him -- enough so to pack him snacks. But her true smile came when, as her own mechanical feet grav locked to the metal flooring, Church let out a choked off howl and flew from the cockpit through the door into the back hall.
“I did warn him,” Sheila announced to Tucker.
“Yeah, I guess in a way you did!” he exclaimed in that way that perfectly encapsulated why Sheila approved of him on her crew.
“Oh, shut up, both of you!” Church growled, gripping to the door frame in order to pull himself through to the cockpit as they began to exit orbit. “Sheila! I need you to take aim for the Warthog the second we’re in cleared space. I don’t want those fuckers getting away again--”
“I am afraid I can’t do that,” Sheila responded, crossing her arms.
“What!?” Church near squealed.
“Is it dangerous this close to docking stations? Or illegal or something?” Tucker asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Oh, no, not at all,” Sheila responded with a wave of her hand. “But it is entirely too rude--”
Before the words had even finished coming form her mouth, the Tank shook, jarring all three of them at once and sending Church plummeting forward, face to the ground.
“Ow, motherfuckers!”
Tucker looked to Sheila just as their lights began flickering out.
“However, it seems that the Warthog is very rude,” Sheila announced. “Also, I believe we are now in need of immediate repairs--”
“Goddammit,” Church growled. “I don’t have money for this shit!!!”
Once again, Sheila and Tucker looked to each other.
“There is one mechanic that would still take your credit, Church...” Tucker began.
“We’re not going to him.”
“It is our only option at this point, Captain,” Sheila reminded him.
Church rolled over on the floor, glaring at the ceiling. “But I don’t want to go to Caboose...”