#freshbaked

Sova’s … okay, Jett supposes. Like, he can get a little cold-shouldered, but he’s a nice enough guy. Jett doesn’t really feel all that strongly in either direction. She wouldn’t consider him her friend, but it’s not like she hates him either. He’s just Sova.

Brimstone likes him a lot, but it’s pretty obvious why — Jett has yet to see Sova refuse literally anything Brim’s asked him to do. He’s a very good order-follower. He’s also a halfway decent teacher, which is more than Jett can say for most people that have ever even attempted to teach her anything. Jett has no patience at all. Sova’s patience apparently never runs out.

But he’s also, like, it’s hard to explain. The opposite of too much? He’s super chill. He’s super supportive. But he never really — Jett’s not quite sure how to word it. She’s not trying to insult the guy. Sova’s fine, but he’s kinda boring, and he fades into the background a lot.

Right now, for example, she and Phoenix are technically out in the field. It’s really cool because they’re almost never assigned together, but this time doesn’t even really count because Sova is also here as their assigned babysitter. His job is to find some hiding spot somewhere up high and literally watch them do whatever. 

So regardless of whatever cool points might be in his favor back on base, Sova being here now is kind of a wet blanket. He’s definitely cramping Phoenix’s style too, because he’s got them posted up on either side of an abandoned building and told them each to stay there and keep an eye out for … whatever, she supposes. She thought she outgrew the kids’ table.

“Jett, any update?”

She sighs. “Just as boring as it was before.”

“Yes or no, Jett. Do you see any movement?”

“Ugh, fine. My update’s no, is that better?”

“Copy,” says Sova, without acknowledging anything she’s just said. He’s really particular about the comms, and whenever they’re in the field he’s constantly on everyone’s ass about it. Smaller phrases, shorter words, get to the point. Brim’s the same way — ‘no color commentary’. Jett thinks it’s a stupid thing to get so hung up on, because everyone in the Protocol is decently smart, and there’s like, seventeen bajillion ways to say yes or no. So it’s not really her problem if these supposed geniuses can’t rub two brain cells together and actually listen to each other for once.

Plus, most of Jett’s ground missions end up like this anyway — super boring, with nothing to do but stare at empty buildings for hours while they wait for nothing to happen.  

And if Phoenix thought he was off the hook, then he’d be wrong, because Sova’s voice comes through again. “Phoenix?”

“No, I’m. I’m just over here having the time of my life, you know?”

“Phoenix.”

“Come on, man," Phoenix sighs too. Jett smiles to herself. “Yeah, my update’s also no.”

“Yes, you see movement, or no, you do not?”

“No, I see approximately zero movement, sir,” Phoenix spits out. Brim would already be scolding him for his insubordinate attitude. “I’m absolutely positive that, negative, there is not even the smallest bit of movement.”

“Copy,” Sova says again. He doesn’t cut off his comm right away, so they both get to hear the beginning of a tired sigh. 

At least Jett’s not the only one not having any fun. She can’t help but snicker at the thought of their babysitter being just as annoyed as them that he’s babysitting. If there was a way for her and Phoenix to talk without Sova hearing it over comms, they’d already be halfway through plotting how best to ruin his entire day. She’ll have to keep that in mind for next time. 

“I’m gonna scope out the roof,” she says suddenly. Standing around makes her antsy, and it’s a relief to launch into the cool air. Same boring streets, obviously, but at this point she’ll take any little change-up she can get.

“Negative, Jett, hold your—”

Something loud cracks to her left, startling her out of her windstream and nearly causing her to fall. It doesn’t sound like it came from Sova but it’s too dark for her to see anything else. She lands on the fire escape and ducks behind the railing. “Did you guys hear —”

“—hell was that?” 

“Get down,” says Sova, sharp and sudden like an order. He must not be able to see her then, because if he could then he’d realize that she’s already three full steps ahead of him. “Stay hidden, I’m en route.”

“Sounds like it came from over there,” Phoenix adds unhelpfully.

Jett scans the area that she thinks the shot came from. It’s still dark, nothing’s changed, so she doesn’t see much of anything outside the limited range of the streetlamps. “Over where?”

“Uh.” Phoenix hesitates. “North?”

“North-northwest,” Sova says quickly. “Do not push in. Do not engage. Stay where you are.”

Jett doesn’t know why Sova’s getting worked up all of a sudden. This is what they were expecting, right? For something to happen? They didn’t bring guns like these for show and tell. She might not have grown up around them like Sova did, but that doesn’t mean she’s a bad shot. Her accuracy back at the range is in the high nineties. 

More shots ring through the air, both behind her and in her ear. She hears someone — Sova? — snarl across the comm like an animal. Her pulse is picking up fast.

But she’s apparently more out of it than Phoenix, who says, “Sova, you good?”

Sova doesn’t answer, the gunfire continues in short waves, and Jett can still hear the sounds of him breathing and moving around. The time between the shots gets longer, and longer, and then stops entirely. It’s only then that she hears Sova’s voice again. “Two. Both radiants. Fall back, rendezvous at Vulture.”

Jett scoffs, “Uh—”

“Yeah, no, that’s a big fucking ‘negative’ from me, Sov,” Phoenix adds. “Jett, can you—”

“On it,” she says gleefully, and takes off.