#RedrockAgency – August 22, 2024

January 6th, 2186. It's a quiet evening at Redrock's headquarters. With Vasquez away on her trip, there's not even the steady clacking of keys and occasional frustrated noises that normally emanates from her office in the evenings. The sun has set, but Litae's glow leaves the snow luminous, and inside, the rooms are filled with warm colors from holiday decorations starting to outstay their welcome.

Jason has just finished a long, hot shower after a late date with a treadmill and sits on the couch, a partially-eaten MRE on the coffee table in front of him. Jogging pants and a t-shirt are the attire of the evening. One pilfered from the emergency rations boxed up in the hangar storage. Roasted chicken and potatoes with gravy. Or, at least, something masquerading as roasted chicken and potatoes with gravy. One of the more fond

memories of Alliance life. And with Vasquez gone, there's nothing to stop him from having (imitation) roasted chicken and (imitation) potatoes with gravy (substitute) every night. The week's asajura highlights play on the TV, illuminating the otherwise dark room and filling in the uncomfortable silence left by Vasquez' absense.

(the MRE is one pilfered*)

"Oof, Nos Astra were completely robbed, weren't they? Shoulda been a penalty." An entirely average, casual, and frankly not incorrect comment, that normally wouldn't be any cause for alarm, if it wasn't for the fact that Jason is the only person in the room. The familiar, intruding voice comes from somewhere just behind the couch, a little to the right, and is accompanied by the faintest of creaks.

Jason barely even registers the comment at first, nodding softly to himself as if the comment was merely a thought in his own noodle. But the cold realization hits him in the chest like a ton of bricks before he has the chance to scoop up another bite of potatoes, causing him to instinctively reach for the Phalanx sitting on the MRE's discarded foil packaging. In one swift motion, he rises from the couch and pivots in the

direction of the voice, bringing his weapon up towards the sound, best as he can pinpoint it.

A tense second passes before the telltale 'whoosh' of a cloaking unit sounds, and, with a shimmer of refracted light, Viper materializes not too far from where Jason is aiming, the placatingly raised arms at odds with the amused, sharp-toothed grin on her face. She's clad in her usual black suit, reptilian eyes looking almost like they're glowing in the dark of the room. "Hiya, Wolfie."

Jason shifts slightly in place, Phalanx tracing back-and-forth over where he pinpointed the voice, blue eyes scanning for the target until the familiar face materializes. Familiar, perhaps, but not what he would call 'friendly', so the Phalanx remains pointed at Viper's center of mass. A guttural, annoyed grunt escapes him. "You've got about ten seconds to explain why the fuck you're in my home." he says flatly, finger hovering

over the trigger.

Viper pouts. "Now is that any way to greet a friend?" she asks, not sounding particularly concerned by the implied threat.

Jason gives an unamused snort. "Nine!" he continues.

Viper rolls her eyes. "C'mon, we're really doing this? I know you're not gonna shoot me, Jay-Jay."

Jason scoffs, "I'm gonna shoot you." he assures matter-of-factly. "Hell, I want to shoot you!" he continues. "You've been nothing but a pain in my ass, and every time you show up, my life gets weird. Eight!"

Viper makes an exaggerated face that's somewhere halfway between 'gasp, scary!' and 'ooh, go on!', starting to lower her hands. "Uh-huh... correction: I've done nothing but help your ass. Got ya intel, saved your girl, saved pint-sized's dad, got you a meeting with the inlaw..."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you're just a beacon of fucking selflessness, right? Come on. Let's not act like you didn't have your own reasons for coming to that Cerberus base that had absolutely nothing to do with Linda. You piggybacked off my team for your own agenda. Seven!" After a beat, he gives a small gesture towards Viper with his pistol before she can respond, obviously annoyed. "And what is your issue with calling? Or,

I don't know? Ringing a fucking doorbell? You can't just show up in my home while I'm in the middle of dinner!" His brows furrow as he tries to keep track of his count. "....Five...?" he continues, not sounding all that confident with his count.

"Six," she corrects, before shrugging. "...and eh, kinda seems like I can. Plus it's lower profile, and I don't trust your little gang of misfits." She's gesturing freely with her hands now, barely bothering to keep them raised anymore, but there's no sign of aggression either.

Jason forces a fake appreciative smile at her correction. Once she finishes speaking, he gives a few small nod of understanding. "Oh, you don't trust my people? My apologies. I didn't realize." he offers in a patronizing tone before raising his voice once more, "I don't trust you! So next time you want to throw my life into a tailspin?" he continues, getting more annoyed over the fact that she seems to know that he's not going

to shoot her than he is over her breaking in, "Call first! Okay?" Brow furrowed, he allows the Phalanx to drop to his side. "Now what the fuck do you want?"

Viper flashes another smile and slips over onto the couch in a single, inhumanly smooth movement. "Just a chat," she says, picking up a piece of (imitation) chicken and popping it in her mouth, only to grimace in disgust and shoot the questionable meal an accusatory look.

Jason draws in a heavy, annoyed breath as Viper joins him over by the couch. His annoyance only grows when she invites herself to join him for dinner, but it's almost immediately replaced with a defensiveness when his choice in cuisine is questioned. "Wha-... It's roasted chicken and potatoes!" he snaps, as if that should quell her questioning. Dropping onto the couch beside her with a defeated sigh, he mutters, "...It's a

classic..." under his breath.

Viper seems entirely unaffected by Jason's annoyance - or, if anything, it makes her more lively. His defense of the meal elicits a skeptical look. "Doubt that stuff's ever even seen a chicken..." she muses, attention shifting to the TV for a moment or two. She doesn't seem in much of a rush, all things considered.

Jason levels a scowl at Viper as she attacks his choice in food. He stares intently at the annoying woman, jaw clenched. After a number of seconds pass without her speaking up, he sharply clears his throat.

Viper leans back in the couch and puts her boots up on the coffee table with a clunk, arms spreading across the backrest as she watches the sports anchor chatter away. "Heard you guys have kept busy since my last visit."

Jason blinks. He opens his mouth to speak but stops himself and takes a deep breath. "Are you getting to a point, or is this just a social visit, Viper?" he asks, his annoyance palpable.

Viper looks over and raises an eyebrow. "That whole... Collector thing? With the kid? You guys are a real magnet for that shit, huh?"

Jason pokes at his teeth with his tongue, silence permeating the room for a few moments. After a few seconds he seems to relent, glancing off to the side. "You're not wrong..." he says quietly with a tilt of his head. "Feels like trouble just sorta-..." he shrugs, finally sitting back in his seat and watching the end of the current asajura highlight on display as he speaks, "...follows us sometimes." He turns his attention back to

the woman at his side, "But you're one to talk. Seems like every time we cross paths you've got one boot in some shit." He leaves the underlying question unspoken. 'What kind of shit is it this time?'

Viper snickers. "Boots are clean today," she assures, wiggling her propped-up feet a little for emphasis, although right afterwards one hand lifts to peel a piece of dead skin from her neck. Is she... shedding? In the light of the TV she looks more true to her name than ever, green scales running along her neck where there was once only scattered spots on pale skin. "Here to talk to my favorite contact this side of the Veil, that's all.

Collectors... what happened?"

Jason winces as the creepy intruder begins to peel at her skin, forcing his attention back to the screen. "Who's asking? You? Shadow Broker? Cerberus? ....Amel?" he asks, the last name causing him to shoot a glance back to Viper. "Still haven't quite figured you out. One moment you're ripping off Cerberus for information brokers, the next you're playing errandgirl for one of Cerberus' top scientists. So who am I dealing with

today?"

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