This logfile is imported from aitelogs2 and may contain errors or wrong timestamps.
#FreedomFalls – February 21, 2016
Vasquez remains motionless, lying on her back on the surgical table. There is no sign of an incision.
Leah frantically looks her over just to be certain. She casts a glance back at Dr. Decker as she gives Vasquez a shake, partially expecting him to pop back up like something out of a cliche horror movie. "Come on, Chief! We've gotta get out of here."
Leah brings a bloodied hand up to her forehead and wipes a strand of hair from her face. "Shit. Alright. Just-... don't wake up and lose your shit on me, alright?" she asks aloud, mainly just speaking to keep herself calm at this point. Well, as calm as possible given the circumstances. She scoops Vasquez off the surgical table, assisted by biotics, and starts towards the door. "Sorry,
Chief. But I don't have time to wait for you to wake up. No telling what they'll do to my dad once they figure out what I've done..."
Vasquez is lifted without much trouble, still knocked out by the sedative. The Redrock car is still alone in the clinic's parking lot, unlike the hospital's ahead.
Leah hurries down the abandoned hallway, lifting her leg to push the door open with her knee. Once again greeted by the rain, she continues towards the car. "Alright... I'm just gonna set you down, alright?" she continues making chatter as she maneuvers herself to the passenger door and awkwardly does a little shuffle with Vasquez, trying to balance her while crouching just enough to
pull the door open with her fingertips, causing Vasquez' head to thunk off the car door lightly. "Crap! You're fine, you're fine..." she mutters as she uses the toe of her boot to pull the door all the way open. She struggles for a moment with Vasquez as she shoves her into the passenger's seat and brushes the woman's hair out of her face to make sure the car door didn't do any visible
Vasquez is unable to express her frustration at her head slamming into the car due to her unconcious state, and so ends up in the passenger seat without issue. The car's systems come online upon sensing the presence of Vasquez' omni-tool.
Leah frowns as she slips into the driver's seat and notices everything coming online. "Well that's not very secure..." she mutters, scrunching up her nose as she studies the console. "Alright. Sooooo I'm gonna steal your car, okay?" she asks, glancing back at the unconscious woman, "But, I mean, it's not really stealing if you're right here, right? You're not, like, telling me I
can't take it? Besides, it's to rescue you, so that's like a wash, right?" She takes a deep breath and glances back towards the door to the clinic, still somewhat expecting the good doctor to reappear. "...Although I guess I did sort of kidnap you in the first place, so does this really count as a rescue?" she continues to ramble as she starts up the car, her speech patterns picking up
speed as they tend to do when her nerves kick in, "Whatever! Shut up, Leah, and steal the damn car." The car kicks up water as it exits the parking lot and she turns onto the street, heading in the direction of her house. "Car: Stolen. Alright, hang on dad. I'm on my way..."
Leah sighs as she continues through town, anxious to get home. Her mind runs through all of the possibilities and the very real chance that he may already be in danger. "I'm just going to get dad and get out of there, okay?" she says, as if asking permission with a glance in Vasquez' direction, "In and out in a couple minutes. With any luck, we'll be back at the office before these
creeps even know what happened." She feels a sudden knot in her stomache as she realizes that heading back to the office means she's going to need to fill Jason, and whoever else is around, in on what's going on. It's too late to worry about that, all that matters is her father. She nods to herself, "Suppose I won't be able to stick around Aite after all of this..."
Leah frowns as Vasquez is jostled about after the car hits a rather large bump. "Okay, so maybe I skipped out on driving lessons. Didn't exactly have the most normal of childhoods. I mean, mom and dad tried but... When I was sixteen, I was a bit more worried about accidentally snapping someone in half with my mind when I got angry than learning the 'rules of the road', alright?"
she continues to ramble, as if Vasquez must be subconciously judging her from whatever dream-realm she may be in. "Vicky was supposed to teach me how to fly a shuttle, but that never happened. But I've got the jist of this!" she says defensively, "One makes the car go, one makes the car stop. Wheel makes it turn. Don't hit anyone. Avoid the sidewalk. Easy enough."
Leah breaches the edge of the city after a bit more driving. The dirt roads on the outskirts make the drive less smooth when the lights of Freedom Falls are at their backs. She grips the wheel tightly, looking for any sign of activity- movement, lights, vehicles - anything suspicious as she nears her quiet little house in the middle of nowhere.
Leah sucks in a deep breath. "Alright... Okay, maybe they haven't figured out what's going on yet." she says as they crest the final rolling hill that brings her humble home into view. "Maybe... Maybe they're just chalking it up to technical difficulties right now." she continues to muse hopefully.
Leah breathes a sigh of relief as the car screeches to a halt out front of her house. Without bothering to turn off the engine, she pushes the door open and hops out of the vehicle. "Just stay right here, Chief! I'll be quick!" she says under her breath, hurrying towards the front door. Her hand trembles as it grasps at the door and pushes it open.
Viper is seated in the living room recliner, hands locked behind her head in a relaxed posture. She would have entered the building just a couple of minutes earlier, identifying herself as a colleague of Leah's and asking to wait for her there (and proceeding to do so regardless). She waves enthusiastically at Leah with her usual unsettling smile.
Leah stops in place as soon as she spots Viper and nearly stumbles backwards. As she regains her footing, she shoves a hand into her jacket and pulls her pistol free. "Where is-..." she begins as she aims her Predator at the intruder. "DAD!" she calls out to her father, hoping for any sort of response. Her hands visibly shaking as her mind goes through a thousand horrific endings for
Viper seems unfazed by the gun, shrugging lightly and putting her feet up on the table. "Uh... he went to the bathroom, I think? No need to say thanks or anything..."
Leah's father suddenly appears in the archway to the kitchen. He's a heavyset old man in a white undershirt and a pair of grey slacks. The belt to his pants is undone and he's wrestling with it to get it latched. "What's all the shouting about, sweetie!?" he asks, a concerned look on his face. As he looks his daughter over, his expression changes from concerned to terrified at her bloodied state. "What happened to you!? Are
you okay!?" he asks, giving up on the belt as he hurries across the room to greet his daughter. As he begins to take in the situation, Leah aiming a gun at Viper, he glances over at his guest. "What is this about, Leah? She said she was a friend..." he explains, his stare lingering on the unsettling woman.
Leah shakes her head a bunch of times, wincing as the pain above her eye begins to really settle in. "Never seen her in my life." she says flatly, "And after the fucked up ni-..."
Leah pauses for a moment. "And after the effed up night I just had, we need to get the heck out of here. Okay? I'll explain on the way. Get a change of clothes, we're leaving."
Viper rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't make any rash decisions right now, just saying. Sniper's handled."
Leah's father looks a bit overwhelmed by everything that's happening, but he complies to his daughter's orders. He pauses in the doorway to the kitchen and looks back between Leah and Viper, mouthing the latter's words. 'Sniper?' With a fearful look in his eyes, he hurries down the hall to his left to pack up some clothes.
Leah waits until her father has left the room and takes a couple steps towards Viper. "I suggest you get talking real quick. Because as soon as he's done, we're getting the fu-... heck out of here and I'm gonna make darn sure nobody can find us."
Viper shrugs, glancing at the gun again. "Hey, I'm not gonna tell ya what to do. I'm just saying, I wouldn't be so sure running is gonna help. Anyway, the sniper's handled, and really, that's all I was here to do, so if you'd lower that gun I'd like to be on my way..."
Leah tentatively lowers her pistol towards the ground, deciding if Viper was here to do damage the damage would probably have already been done. "Who are you?" she asks, deciding to trust the woman at face value for now, "And why would you help us?"
Viper smiles, standing up from the recliner and tilting her head, reptilian eyes studying Leah with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Because I was paid to." She seems to grow bored and starts to walk around Leah without bothering to elaborate.
Leah scrunches up her nose, causing a crease in her forehead. "Who would pay to protect me...?" she asks, staring at the woman as she walks out. "Please. I don't know what to do. If you know anything..." she pleads.
Viper shrugs, continuing towards the door. "Nooo I don't know who hired me, no I'm not gonna babysit you, nooo I don't wanna grab coffee sometime..." Upon reaching the exit she opens it and steps out into the rain, mumbling something about weather and tactical cloaks.
Leah watches as Viper makes her exit, trying to piece everything together with little luck. Her shoulders slump as she becomes even more confused and dejected over the whole ordeal.
Leah's father steps back into the living room, tossing his jacket on and quickly zipping it up. "Leah, honey. You gotta tell me what's going on..." he says with panic in his voice, hefting a bulging dufflebag over his shoulder.
Leah nods slowly and glances down at her pistol. She tucks it back into the holster under her jacket and looks over at her father. "I will dad... Just trust me. We're gonna have to stay somewhere else for a little while, okay?" she asks, absently moving over towards a small wall-mounted shelf near the door. On it is an old picture of Leah, her mother and her father. She couldn't have
been more than 17 or 18 when it was taken. She grabs the picture and tucks it under her arm. "Everything is gonna be fine. I promise." she says, glancing back at her old man and forcing a slight smile in an attempt at calming his nerves.
Litae's Grace is a single-floor dive bar located on a corner near the edge of town. A bright, tacky neon-lit sign adorns a barred up window which displays a large moon with the bar's namesake beside it. Booths line the walls of the bar, and the bar itself is a large square counter in the middle of the room with stools surrounding it. A pyramid-like structure with numerous levels of shelves stands as the centerpiece of the bar.
A large assortment of bottles line each level of the structure all the way around. A single human woman seems to be the only one managing the bar tonight, despite a large volume of customers. Dressed in a black undershirt and jeans with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she moves from customer to customer with a smile, interacting with each of them in a way that implies familiarity. The room is dim, lit only by the
neon signs displaying the beverages on offer and the screens around the room which are tuned to different sports programs. Music blares, making one wonder why anyone would even bother coming here to watch a game to begin with. Despite that, the place is packed. The patrons themselves are a wide variety of races, many of which are wearing hardsuits and visibly armed. A few are donning a more primitive selection of armor.
Nathan steps into the bar, face obscured by his helm. Donned in his blazing red armour and armed with enough weapons and explosives to level a building, he cuts a rather... Interesting sight. He strides over to the counter with an arrogant swagger, his mirrored gaze sweeping the bar. He arrives and pulls himself up onto a stool, resting an arm against the counter.