Tim hears the door open and he blinks open his eyes, raises his head to see the door close just in time. He glances over at Chris’s bed and it’s empty, sheets pushed back, pillows scattered. Tim taps his watch and the hologram reads 12:56. It’s past midnight and Chris has gone out.
Which means he’s gone for a fistfight or a drink.
Which means Tim is going to find out which of which.
Because Tim's curious.
Tim pulls on his leather pants and digs into his small collection of clothes, satisfied with a collared jacket that he zips up to his chin. He brings his visors, makes sure his watch is slapped on and sets out after Chris.
He’s worn the boots he uses for work, light yet comfortable to move around with, and sees Chris disappear into the marketplace. He goes after him. Tim pulls on his visors and they’re instantly adjusting to Chris’s figure, individualizing him among the crowd. Tim follows him with light steps, keeping a distance and feels a flutter of excitement as he moves. It's exhilarating and it makes Tim feel alive, to have something to anticipate. He’ll get in trouble for it, but he won’t regret it. Not when his nerves are pumping with adrenaline.
Chris disappears into a random alleyway and Tim instantly uses his watch to scan for Chris on a map. He’s walking along the outskirts of the marketplace, traveling through the maze of alleyways. Tim watches him take turns along corners, walk straight and then turning left. He chases after him, as quiet as possible.
Where’s he going? Tim thinks, keeping his map out as he trails after Chris. Why’s he being so sneaky, coming out here where there’s no one? Tim considers it. Well, of course, he’d take this road, genius. He’s trying to be as subtle as he can. While his brain mentally argues, Tim loses Chris entirely and he’s out of range, his watch’s GPS unable to track him. Tim curses and tries to recollect the turns Chris has taken.
But Tim gets lost quickly in the maze of dark, dimly lit alleyways. Tim’s excitement is replaced by a spike of fear and panic that begins to bleed like ink on paper, spreading. He finally stops at a four-way intersection, looking up at his surroundings, taking time to calm himself as he does so. He uses the GPS to locate himself and decides to head back home. As much as he was excited, he was bound to get in trouble and he knew he’d regret it when it came.
Tim closes his GPS map and travels swiftly out of the maze of alleyways, finally emerging onto some street far from the marketplace and far from home. But he’s out of the shady zone so he uses the surrounding buildings in the night to see where he is.
The Watchtower, with its 637-meter tall glory, is about a half a mile away and if Tim squints, he can see the ripple of the energy waves of the defense biosphere. It was made with generated energy, by all six Watchtowers. The energy shield was to protect Genecis from foreign enemies and so far, Tim can safely that it’s Genecis’s most strongest defense.
There's a sudden roar that grows louder and louder and then, there’s an explosion that throws Tim off his feet and he’s hitting the ground hard. He drops low as debris starts flying, dust forming into fog and he is coughing as he looks up. The Watchtower is pulsing red, but strangely no alarms were blaring. Tim looks around and in the distance, the other five Watchtowers are only pulsing red, indicating an intruder alert.
“What’s going on?” Tim says to no one in particular, hearing the rising hysteria of the others as he stares at the destroyed Watchtower. About two thirds of the tower, some blown away and there are Nova soldiers flying into the Tower, jets hovering around, lights searching and among the fallen chunks of debris, Tim sees a small shiny item and he picks it up, inspecting it’s one inch size before Tim’s fingers presses a small button and something slides out. It startles Tim but it’s only a drive, a USB drive. Tim uses his visors to scan it and to his surprise, it’s not of Nova technology. Instead, it’s technology Tim hasn’t seen in years.
Human technology. But it’s been upgraded because Tim can see an encryption on the USB so it wouldn’t be able to be accessed. Tim hears another explosion and he’s turning, hitting the ground, running away from the Watchtower, and straight into the chaos where the humans are coming out, shouting and watching in panic and interest.
Tim’s runs past them, shoving his body through until he runs into someone and he’s yelping because his wrist is grabbed, pulled against a chest. He catches his breath, looking up to see Chris with an angry but relieved look.
“Tim, what the hell,” Chris hisses, his grip tightening, making Tim wince. His hand pulls Tim’s visors down so it dangles from his neck.
“Chris,” Tim gasps, his chest heaving. “I can explain.”
“You better be damn ready to,” Chris looks up and around. “We need to leave this street.”
Tim nods and he lets himself get dragged by Chris, just wordlessly, his other hand gripping the USB. Chris pulls them into the maze of alleyways that Tim had gotten himself lost in and he shoves Tim into the wall, making Tim gasp at the roughness of his back hitting concrete.
“Explain yourself,” Chris looks angry, his eyes blazing blue fire. His teeth are clenched and for a moment, it scares Tim. He’s never looked so angry. “What the hell are you doing here? Why were you following me? And why the hell were you caught in that explosion?”
Tim doesn’t know where to start. He opens his mouth, searching for words to explain himself, but he’s trembling, shaking. His brain isn’t working right and he can only grip the USB in his palm.
“Timothy Hawthorne,” Chris growls.
“Whoa there,” A voice says and Tim slides his gaze from Chris to a figure landing silently, almost gracefully, onto the ground and in the light, Tim can see the phoenix insignia, it’s one gold and one silver wings unfurling, head turned back into a cry in a circle of metallic steel. It’s a Resistance fighter. Tim thinks, shocked and awed.
Chris must’ve noticed too because he’s back on defense mode, pushing Tim behind him, stance ready to strike. “A Fighter? What’re you doing here in the slums?” His voice is rough, suspicious.
The Fighter only cocks his head like he’s amused, his own visors hiding his eyes, his face. Tim can see the shine of kevlar and the belt around the waist, weapons strapped to the Fighter’s body. He’s got gauntlets on his forearms with blades sticking out, black boots that act as knee guards and boots. It’s so unlike Nova, so human, that Tim almost can’t believe he’s seeing a Fighter in the flesh.
“Well, actually, I’m here to take what that kid took,” The Fighter says, his voice easy. But there’s a twinge of caution. His stance is tense, ready to strike.
Chris looks at Tim who looks at his palm and he opens it, revealing the USB. “What the heck?” Chris curses.
“Yeah I know, stupid of me. I can’t believe I let it out of my possession to some kid,” The Fighter says easily. “Can I have it back? If I don’t go without it, I’m screwed.”
“Tim, what is that,” Chris says with a low voice.
“A USB,” Tim isn’t sure why but he’s hesitant to give it back. So he’s babbling on. Hoping to make enough time so something happens. “Not Nova tech, human tech,” Tim says. “There’s an encryption on it, strong enough to keep a normal human from accessing it. Might take time for a Nova alien, but the lock is easy enough for me to break,” Tim says, looking up at the Fighter whose stance has gone still.
“Prove it,” The Fighter says as soon as Tim finishes his ranting. “Prove to me right here that you can break it and you’re not a ‘normal human’ and that it's ‘easy for you to break into’.” There’s challenge in his voice, almost defensive, and Tim looks at the USB. “Then I’ll think about what I will do with you.”
“Oh, so were you going to kill us?” Chris challenges. “I thought you were a Resistance Fighter, agents who saved people like us.”
Tim instantly gets to work, using the programs on his watch as he spread open some screens and placed the USB in the scanner, keeping it afloat as he runs a diagnostic test on it. He has to inspect it to see how he could break the lock. Chris growls and Tim can read his mind.
This is not the time and place to be proving yourself. Chris is probably thinking that.
But Tim is determined to show the Fighter. Out of curiosity about what the USB holds. Tim can make some assumptions, some points and one of them being that the explosion had something to do with this USB and the Fighter who was leaning against the opposite wall, watching him with arms across his chest.
Tim runs tests on it, over and over until the information is chipping away and Tim can finally use another program to start coding on breaking the lock. Tim’s fingers are moving like a flash on the keyboards and he opens another one, using his left to type dexterously. He’s not trying to show off, but Tim could really save the time. Because Chris is right; this isn’t the time and place.
After a few more steps, Tim hits enter in finalization. Like a game on a screen, everything shatters and in green letters reads ACCESS GRANTED.
“Holy shit,” Chris breathes, looking shocked and proud as he let down his guard, turning on Tim. “Holy shit, Timmy.”
“It’s the Watchtower’s data, isn’t it?” Tim says quietly, exiting the program and putting down all his screens until the USB in his palm. “You were on a mission to retrieve the Watchtower’s data. So you can track their aero log in to infiltrate. As well as other information.”
The Fighter only stares and he finally pulls down his visors, revealing wild, wind-blown auburn hair and green eyes. He’s handsome under the visors with a chiseled, prominent jawline and sharp features. He looks serious, grave. “Who are you?” He says, suspiciously.
Tim holds out the USB to him. “My name’s Timothy Hawthorne.”
The Fighter takes it, raising an eyebrow at the USB in his gloves. “Well, Timothy,” He says slowly. “It looks like this USB isn’t the only one I’m taking back.”
Before Tim can fully let the words sink, before Chris can even react, there’s a flash of lightning and then excruciating, hot pain traveling Tim’s spine and he opens his mouth in a silent scream before everything crashes and then grows dark.
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