#2-1 - Sidewinder (AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
SkyRig
Wake the f#ck up, samurai.
- Location
- Someplace in California
- Pronouns
- He
Since you're all reading this, it means that Chase Ryder and the City of Lost Memories – Part 2: Revolution is finished. I'm currently waiting on the artist making the cover art before I start the process of publishing it.
You know the usual shill. If you wanna help support me financially so I can continue writing and have a roof over my head, please consider becoming a Supporter on p a treon / SkyRig, and if you enjoy my work, maybe check out Chase Ryder and the City of Lost Memories – Part 1: War. Okay, shill over!
ON WITH THE SHOW!
The first thing that registered in my brain after regaining consciousness was pain. Blinding white light, a horrid ache all across my body, and the sensation of somebody taking an icepick to my brain. It hurt to so much as twitch. I could hear voices above me, but I could not make out anything they said. Their voices were muffled and drowned out like they were speaking underwater.
I don't remember how I got here, where "here" even was, or even my name. Everything was a blur. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light. A lantern stared down at me, peeking through my helmet's visor. I realized I was still wearing my armor. Feeling slowly returned, though that made the pain worse now that I could actually feel the bruises and the uncomfortable weight of my armor.
The voices gradually became more distinct and clear. It was a man and a woman.
"Honestly, she's lucky to even be alive. Seriously, this armor is sooo out of date!"
"Emily," the man sighed. "The armor is only behind by a generation. Still, I will concede on how luck. The better question is, where did she come from?"
"Beats me. Haven't had a chance to study that crack."
"…please tell me you haven't thrown anybody into it."
"How can I? Have you seen this place? I'm up to my neck in wounded!"
I didn't recognize the voices. They were new. I turned my head, careful not to aggravate my wounds too much. The man wore white armor with orange-yellow markings, his helmet sitting on the table beside him. It's design was different than mine, more stylized with a narrow visor running down the middle. He looked like he was Dad's age, light blonde hair neatly swept back and tied into a small ponytail with a neatly trimmed beard, wrinkles nestled deep in the skin beneath his almond-colored eyes. Across from him was a woman in similar armor, albeit less "bulky" and more lithe, noticeably lacking in armor plating with purple trims. She was maybe a decade or so older than me, freckles decorating the bridge of her nose and cheeks with frazzled ebony-black hair spilling down across her shoulders. Dark sagging bags hanged under blue eyes.
I stared at them, wondering who they were and where I was. As I tried to figure out how I got here, I felt a throbbing pain in my left side. An involuntary groan escaped me as I reached for my left side.
"Ah, she's awake!"
Fuck, I thought acidly.
The woman smiled tiredly down at me. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"
"Sore," I replied. My throat was dry. Even cottonmouth was better than this. "W-water…"
"Right, right. Hang on a second." The woman retreated further back into the room, leaving me with the kind-looking man smiling down at me.
"I believe you are wondering where in the world you are at the moment, no?" I nodded. "Allow me to introduce myself first. My name is Donald Doyle. Despite what my appearance may tell you, I am no soldier. I'm the assistant secretary to the Brigadier General, who is sadly away on business at the moment. And you are…?"
My name came to me almost immediately. "Taylor…"
The woman, Emily I remembered Donald calling her, returned with a plastic cup full of water. She briefly set the cup on the table next to her to help me sit up straight, ignoring my body's protests and removing my helmet. The air felt cold. It reminded me of home. "Slow sips," Emily advised as she handed me the cup of water. "Don't try to drink it all at once."
"This is Emily Gray, our chief physician," Donald introduced her properly. "You have her to thank. I must admit, you gave us all quite the shock! A rather dynamic entrance, I should say."
The water spilled down my throat, wiping away the sticky dryness in my mouth. I kept the water to a trickle, not trusting myself to choke if I drank too much at once. "What," I licked my lips. "What do you mean? Where am I?"
"You showed up right outside the encampment," Emily told me with a dim smile. "At least three of our men saw you being thrown out of an honest to god crack in the fabric of reality. It's actually quite fascinating, honestly. I would very much like to know what the crack is, and more importantly who you are, but I have more important matters to attend to at the moment. It's hard work keeping everyone alive, you know."
"As to where you are, young lady," Donald said. "You are currently in the main forward camp of the Federal Army of Chorus."
"…Chorus?" A sense of dread fell upon me. Slowly, I started to remember what happened. "Not…Sidewinder?"
"I'm afraid not. If I might ask, where is Sidewinder specifically? Moreover, where did you even come from? And what in the world were you doing that involved you being at the epicenter of a megaton bomb?"
Fucking Christ on a pontiff, where the hell do I start?
"A Worm in the Gulch"
AKA
Taylor Gets Isekai'd Into The Space-Ass End In The Middle Of Bum-Fuck-Egypt"
Welcome back to the fanfic, you cockbiting fucktards
Love, The Writer
AKA
Taylor Gets Isekai'd Into The Space-Ass End In The Middle Of Bum-Fuck-Egypt"
Welcome back to the fanfic, you cockbiting fucktards
Love, The Writer
You ever had a bad dream? A nightmare so bad you wake up in a puddle of your own sweat, hoping that whatever happened to you never happened and you just imagined the whole thing?
I've had them. Plenty since Mom died, in fact. They're never pleasant, less so because I never talked about them with Dad. I barely even remember the last time we had an honest chat or heart-to-heart since Mom died. When the bullying started and he barely noticed, I didn't even try broaching the subject to him.
I remember having a nightmare before waking up hogtied to a tree. It started off with me waiting for Mom to make breakfast. Dad and I are sitting at a table. I remembered smelling the delicious scent of homebaked waffles and cooked bacon and how I drooled. I got impatient and walked up to mom, asking when breakfast would be ready.
Mom looked at me. I didn't see a face. No eyes, mouth, ears, or nose. I only saw a flat space of flesh marred by bleeding cuts, glass sticking to parts of her face. I screamed when she reached for me.
It makes no sense, of course, but nightmares don't have to make sense. They just need to scare the shit out of you.
…still, as a pro tip in case you suffer from nightmares, adrenaline and anger are a good way to make you forget whatever the hell it is you dreamed of. It worked wonders for me when I realized I'd been kidnapped – AGAIN! – and tied to a tree.
#2-1
Sidewinder
(AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
Sidewinder
(AKA Taylor Still Hates being a Damsel)
"Oh, for fuck's sake…"
Honestly, I should have known something like this would happen. The Reds and Blues actually had a working plan, but it blew up in their faces. Almost literally in Church's case.
I was still kidnapped, and worse, I was someplace else. There was snow as far as the eye could see and tall mountains in the distance. I vaguely saw what looked like a military base in the distance, but I couldn't be sure. Not that I was in any position to do anything, seeing as how I was tied to a tree.
O'Malley, or Omega, or whatever his name is, was nowhere to be found. Lopez was here with me, but I couldn't understand a word he said. I could make out a few words, but nothing that would really help me. He also made no moves to help me, which I interpreted as him being hacked.
With Lopez standing watch over me, there wasn't much I was able to do beyond struggle to get out of my bindings. Including the rope tying me to the tree, O'Malley went the extra mile and bound my wrists too. Seriously, what was with the extra security? Who did he think I was, Sophia Hess?
"Lo siento, Taylor. Me habría negado si mi programación lo permitiera," Lopez said. He sounded genuinely upset. Somehow. His voice was still flat with barely any emotion.
I assumed he was apologizing, but I couldn't be sure. I looked at my surroundings and found little but fields of white and distant mountains. Behind the mountains, I saw what looked like the world being stretched and turned upward, forming a ring-like curve that went past my field of vision. It was the same as Blood Gulch, though I doubted we were anywhere close to the canyon, much less on the same planet.
Were all worlds shaped like rings in this place?
"Lopez," I asked. "Where exactly am I?"
"Sidewinder," the robot replied in English.
I furrowed my brow. The name didn't ring any bells, unfortunately. Before I could ask him where the possessed medic was, I heard a familiar obnoxious voice shouting from behind. "Lopez! What have I said about talking with the wildlife?!"
"Fuck you," I bit out.
The purple-armored 'medic' appeared from behind the tree. "Oh, great, she's awake," Omega/O'Malley groaned. "Just what I need, a chatty hostage!"
"Again. Fuck. You."
"Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he snickered.
DuFresne sighed. "I would be too if I got kidnapped and nearly blown up by a tank."
"What was that?" the A.I. growled.
He sighed again. "Nothing…"
Jesus, they sound like some married couple.
"Again, I'd like to say I'm really sorry," DuFresne apologized.
"Oh, for the love of evil, quit apologizing!"
…y'know, I didn't think he could sound anymore like a classic B-movie villain, but there he goes, proving me wrong. For as intimidating and dangerous as Omega/O'Malley is, he's like an idiot. The cynic in me wanted to believe it was an act, a means to make people underestimate him, but then I remembered Blood Gulch and its occupants. Maybe Blood Gulch was unique and was the only place in the world to host all sorts of idiots, or maybe everyone in this place was nuts.
Regardless, it didn't change the fact that the A.I. was dangerous or that DuFresne was as much a hostage as I was.
"And as for you," Omega/O'Malley said. "You're going to sit, nice and comfortably, while I deal with those pesky friends of yours."
I should have felt relieved to know the others were coming to rescue me, but instead, I felt an odd sense of dread. Why did I have such a bad feeling about this? "What are you plotting?"
"Oh, that is the question, now isn't it?" he laughed. "I could tell you my plans, but where would the fun in that be? No, I think you'll have to learn it for yourself. Now!" Omega/O'Malley rounded on Lopez. "Come, my robotic minion! We have work to do! I still need to perform the final touches before those idiots discover us!"
"Si, maestro," Lopez bowed. He followed the possessed 'medic', though not before giving me a pointed look. As he walked away, I heard a soft crunch next to me. I looked down by my feet and saw what looked like a switchblade.
I smiled under my helmet, making a mental note to double my efforts in learning Spanish so I could thank that robot the next time I saw him.
Church wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that it hadn't been an hour since the rescue mission started and things already went to shit in a handbasket or that his migraine hadn't ceased. Caboose was nowhere near him and Grif was surprisingly amicable company (well, barring the smell of course. When was the last time that fatass bathed?), yet his head was still hurting. It was like someone was taking a chisel to the back of his head and stabbing his brain. If he still had one. He had to remind himself he didn't have a brain anymore and that his current body was robotic.
He didn't get how he could still feel pain even as a ghost, or why his head was hurting so bad. Was it some sort of backlash from being in Doc's head? Or was it because of O'Malley? The possession was brief, and he didn't get a peak at went on within the so-called medic's head, but something happened. He just couldn't remember what.
No, that wasn't entirely true. There was one thing that stood out to him.
Don't say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.
Church was no stranger to anger. Considering he dealt with idiocy and Caboose on a daily basis, he was usually frustrated at best or furious at worst. Tucker's antics and Caboose being, well, Caboose never failed to make him angry.
Yet for some reason, those words elicited a fury in him he never knew existed.
"Uh, you doin' okay there?"
Church took a deep breath, putting the thought out of his mind. He could deal with…whatever this was another time. For now, he had to focus on getting out of this place. The sooner they rescued Lopez and Hebert, the better. Who knows? Maybe Tex was back and they could have a proper discussion for once! Figure out where things stood. Convince her to stay. Lord knew he needed all the help he could get.
"Tucker, seriously, you need to rest," Donut said for the umpteenth time. "You're gonna pull something!"
Texas never thought she would say or think this, but she begrudgingly admitted to admiring Tucker for his stubborness. Tanking a rocket explosion point-blank was nothing to sneeze at, especially for someone who barely qualified as a soldier. He was moaning and groaning in pain, barely conscious by the time she was cognizant enough to jump into the nearest robot body, but he managed to recover. In spite of his injuries, he was trying to bulldoze his way past Donut and hop into the teleporter.
Evidently, panic and anger were good motivators. Learning Taylor was still in Omega's clutches was enough to get him going.
"Fuck that," Tucker bit out. "Taylor's in danger! I can't just—agh!"
Still, as much as she liked seeing him in pain while also demonstrating he could be a decent human being at times, she knew better than to enable suicidal idiocy. "You're not exactly in any position to be going in after them," she pointed out. "Plus, you won't be much help. Just take five, Tucker."
Tucker glared at her through his helmet. "But—!"
"We'll get her back. I promise."
Tex could tell he wasn't happy, but he backed down regardless. She would smile if she could.
"So, what do we do while we wait for them to get back to us?" Donut asked. "I mean, I'm more than happy to talk about Chantilly lace."
Please don't, Tex thought.
"Please don't," Tucker echoed. "And what makes you think they will? I mean, no offense to you man, but have you seen our teams? We suck. It's a miracle we get anything done!" He paused. "Well, except for Sheila. It's kind of sad that the only actual good team member on Blue Team 'sides Taylor is a tank."
"Why, thank you!" Sheila chirped. "I am very happy to contribute."
"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Tex complained.
Tucker gave her a pointed look. "Uh, you're a freelancer. You work for whoever pays you more, so you're really not on Blue Team."
"I'm helping you, aren't I?"
"Yeah, but we're also working with the Reds at the moment, so technically, you're helping them, too."
…Well, shit. She had to give him that.
"Do you think that Taylor friend of yours will be okay?" Donut asked worriedly. "I mean, after we blew him up, O'Malley seemed really angry. Like, really really really angry."
That was another thing that worried Tex, more so than the fact a civilian was caught up in all this.
Even without a host influencing him, Omega was violent. He was perpetually angry, simply because that was the basis of his existence. He was born from anger, and therefore, he was always angry. There was no excuse, no reason, no justification beyond meaning. The only way his anger could be tempered was if he possessed a mild-mannered host. With her, Omega was at his best because he had someone competent. As disgusting as it sounded, Tex and Omega were meant for each other because she understood his anger. She knew how to tame, how to control, how to direct it for her own purposes. With people like Caboose and Doc, he was subdued to an extent. He wasn't as angry because his hosts lacked a certain capacity for it, but that meant he had to express his rage via other means.
Based on what she knew and observed, Doc was the least threatening person in Blood Gulch, not to mention a total wimp. There was obviously some sort of repressed rage, otherwise Omega never would have gotten such a foothold in him.
And yet…
There's no way *that* happened, right?
Church seemed fine, if agitated when he came to. Then again, he was always irritated, but something about his temper seemed different. Tex didn't want to assume the worst case, especially not with Omega.
Something else also bothered Tex. Taylor Hebert had been in Blood Gulch for some time now, even though VIC and Command were doing their best to find a way to contact her guardians. The girl was genuine about how she came to Blood Gulch, but the fact that she was still here raised more than a few alarm bells. There was no way the Director didn't know about Taylor being here, so why hadn't he done anything? Even if they used the flimsy excuse of still looking for her guardian, there was no reason to keep her in Blood Gulch. Not unless they wanted her there.
Tex didn't want to consider it, not when it meant there were lines the Director was willing to cross.
It took twenty minutes of improvised planning, half of which nearly resulted in me nearly losing a toe, but I managed to cut through my bindings. I was definitely going to double down on learning Spanish when I got back to Blood Gulch.
Unfortunately, just because I was now free didn't mean I was safe. Omega/O'Malley could return at any moment, and I couldn't risk using my radio to contact Vic or the Reds and Blues. There was a chance he screwed with my radio or found a way to listen in. In any case, I couldn't afford to sit around and do nothing.
I could only hope that whoever was in that base in the distance were more sensible than the idiots I had to deal with…
Spoiler alert: They weren't. They really weren't.
For those wondering about the Chorus segment, Taylor arrives before Felix and Locus do. At this point in time, the Feds and the New Republic are still at each other's throats, but it hasn't escalated to where it is by the time of the Chorus Trilogy. Emily hasn't gotten herself stuck in her "happy place" and Doyle is still assistant secretary.
While Taylor's brief presence on Chorus won't have any huge impacts, it will have some effect when we reach the Chorus Trilogy.
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