The Marshal reeled back in surprise, letting out a small yelp of alarm as the rest of the covers were thrown back, revealing the marble white skin of the starborn draped casually over the bed, large, coal black eyes still boring into him.
With one hand, the starborn patted the bed beside him in a disturbingly seductive way and grinned, "Come on, I warmed it up just for you."
The Marshal turned, ready to flee out the balcony door, but found his way blocked by a dark huking shape.
The SE fealty armor was even taller than it had looked inside its climate controlled glass case, the door of which now hung open, the interior empty. The Marshal had no time to run as the armor's hand shot out, faster than thinking and clasped him around the throat mechanical joints whirring as he was hoisted into the air choking and gagging before being blamed bodily into the floor.
All the air he had left vacated his lungs, and he lay there mouth opening and closing like a beached fish as he fought to regain his ability to breathe.
A flash of White appeared at the edge of his vision, and he watched groggily as NEMO shot out from around the corner, making a B line straight for the fealty armor, and the data port on the back of the helmet, likely intending to shut the armor down.
She was only a few feet away when the visor of the fealty helmet snapped towards her. The Marshal watched as the visor of the helmet lit up with the pixelated image of a cartoon skull gnashing tis teeth. NEMO drew to a halt and then slowly backed away. The marshal felt his blood run cold.
He knew he was in trouble, but this.... was worse.
The Fealty armor, had an AI....
A combat AI
And NEMO had just done the AI equivalent of pissing herself.
The Marshal knew about combat Ais, had even thought about getting one, though he didn't have the money or resources to do so. Likely President Hunt had thought giving their pet assassin a combat AI would be a bad idea, and he had probably been right. However, in his research he had come across mentions of this type of AI.
And paired with an SE armor suit, it barely mattered who was inside.
He was dead.
The little Skull graphic vanished as the suit held out a hand towards NEMO, palm open and inviting. The gesture was clear, either give yourself up, or I do it for you. NEMO was a learning robot, smart and quick, but not particularly brave. She knew when she was outclassed. Knew that the combat AI had already mapped a thousand ways to kill her with its bare hands. At this distance it could probably grab and crush her with a single hand before she could move away.
So she did the only logical thing, slowly floating forward to land in the armor's oversized palm, letting off a sad sort of tone as she did.
The marshal finally managed to pull in a gasp of air, eyes still fixed on the scene above half expected the fealty AI to crush her. His heart sped up in his chest as he thought about it, one of his only companions for these few companions through these lonely years crumbling to dust, but instead of crushing her, the armored figure drew her closer to its chest, and stuck her against what must have been a magnetic panel against its upper right side.
It must have been originally designed for use in holding grenades or ammunition, but now NEMO hung there and blinked her lights sadly at him.
He was breathing heavily now, just barely able to squeak air through his windpipe, not quite crushed by the massive hand that held it.
"Mmmm I wish he'd choke me sometime."
The fealty armor whirred as the visor slowly turned to look up falling on the starborn who, from what the Marshall could see was now lying in an openly seductive pose, draped across the bed, leading on one elbow. The grip on the marshal's throat eased somewhat.
"You know when you invited me to bed, I thought we would be doing soemthing fun."
The marshal lay there and watched as the visor retracted into the helmet, revealing the Admiral's face underneath, looking mildly exasperate. The man looked older than the picture the marshal had in his memory. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his hair had turned completely white, evidenced by the light dusting of stubble over his chin. His mechanical eye glowed dimly in the room's failing light.
He even thought he saw a glowing line of orange pulsing in the man's temple.
"Do you think now is the time for this Conn?"
"It's always time to flirt with the father of my daughter."
"I wish you would stop calling me that. It was simply your DNA and my DNA used to make a person."
The starborn gave another leering smile, "Yes that is generally how it works."
"For the love of...." The man turned his eyes down to look at the Marshall, "You see what I have to deal with? And its not like I can lodge a complaint with HR for harassment or anything, I'm the damn president."
"Mm yes, a political engagement, how salacious."
"Who is teaching you these words, and don't say salacious like that, it giving me the creeps."
The marshal looked back and forth between the two of them eyes wide, not sure what he was supposed to think. Just then the overhead lights slowly adjusted to a dim glow, and despite that he narrowed his eyes in a squint, vision watering in pain.
"You know this is not what a warrior expects to see when she comes into her bedroom."
The three of them looked over to find the Saint of Anin standing in the doorway, a pearl white spear in one hand, a sleeping baby wrapped in a scooby doo blanket held in the other, "The director of intelligence sitting seductively on her bed, while her husband chokes a stranger on the floor."
"You make that sound way worse than it actually is." The admiral muttered standing slowly, and pulling the marshal with him.
Inside the fealty armor, the admiral dwarfed him by a good foot and a half.
None of them seemed worried, or even mildly concerned about his presence.
Conn looked her over once with a casual glance, "I suppose we can let you join us, I don't mind having a third party."
The Drev saint rolled her eyes.
In her arms, the baby whimpered and adjusted itself in it's sleep.
"Move, Conn." The admiral demanded, whistling once to call over the two dogs, who looked at the marshal warily. Even Pancake had gone a little cold towards him, but neither made a move as the Admiral motioned them up onto the bed, as Conn, grumbling, got off.
"Why don't you put Kay down so the grownups can talk." The admiral said mildly, and Sunny agreed walking over to place the baby between the two dogs, now resting on the bed. Pancake waved her tail once as the baby was placed next to her, and waffles gently scooted inward, sniffing at the baby's hair and nudging softly at the blanket as if taking care of her own pup.
The saint of Anin patted the dog's head for a moment before the group of them stepped out into the other room leaving the baby to sleep.
The lights in the living room adjusted gently as they stepped inside, and the Marshall was able to get a better look at the décor.
The center piece of the room was quite impressive, a massive silver barked tree, with lightning blue leaves, which grew up at least twenty or thirty feet into a ceiling that was mostly skylight. The roots of the tree surrounded a small water feature that bubbled and gurgled gently. Delicate water flowers floated on the surface, and small metallic fish swam just beneath that.
Admiral Vir forced the marshal onto the couch, locking eyes with him. The cold steely green of his human eye never wavered, "You, will stay here, do not move. If you do...."
There was a sharp whirring noise as the man held up a hand, and two long blades slid into place from out of the forearms, wicked sharp and curved like the talons of a bird of prey.
The marshal listened to the sound of the suit, as it whirred more loudly, giving him the impression that the AI was making its own statement. NEMO's lights blinked and then shut off, and he knew she had heard it.
He wilted in his seat, but nodded.
He knew there was no getting out of this.
One of the few greatest fighters on all of Arcadia, and maybe even the galaxy were here, and one of them was paired with a combat AI.
He had no chance.
Not to mention the grinning floating menace behind them, his coal dark eyes alive with pleasure in his catch.
"What did I tell you." Conn said.
The admiral grunted, "Why didn't you tell me sooner."
"We weren't sure if he was going to do anything. He wasn't sure if he was going to do anything. Harboring thoughts of hurting someone is not the same as harboring intentions." The Starborn must have heard the surprise in his thoughts, and grinned at him, "Oh yes, we have known about you since you first stepped foot on Arcadia, been watching you very closely, especially since you engineered Rogue's encounter with Waffles."
Sunny frowned and gave the Starborn a look, "A fact wich you failed to mention until last night."
"It wasn't relevant until last night now was it." The starborn said, "He wasn't sure himself if he was going to go through with it." The starborn floated closer and the marshal leaned back in his seat "Isn't that right Detective Emerton, Or should I say Agent Desmond Emerton."
He twitched slightly at the sound of his name out of force of habit. It had been a while since he had heard anyone speak it, and coming from the.... Voice or thoughts of this creature, it was more than odd. Especially knowing that it had likely been pulled from his own mind.
"not much of a killer this one." Conn went on, "He didn't plan to kill you anyway."
Adam sighed, "Kidnapping?"
"Exactly."
"Sunny snorted, If I had a Unit for every time someone tried to kidnap you I'd have about eight quarters, which isn't a lot but I think certainly establishes a pattern."
Admiral Vir glowered at her, "Don't give me that, you've been kidnapped at least twice."
"All marital squabbles aside." The starborn floated closer, eyes boring into him, and he couldn't help but feel his skin crawl, knowing that the creature was sifting through his head, "You don't want to be here do you..... you would like nothing more than to continue your quiet life on Arcadia, you like it here all things considered. You Take Rogue for a walk every night, when it gets late, and the streets are doused in blue. There is no one there, and you like to make friends with the wildlife. You have a few jellies you are friends with, like to pet them when you sit on your park bench."
He didn't say anything.
He watched closely as Adam walked over o sit across from him, furniture creaking under the weight of his armor. He looked almost comical sitting there, an oversized robot death machine sitting politely on a couch, hands clasped in front of him.
"You don't want to kill me, or kidnap me, so why even try."
Desmond looked between the three of them warily before letting off a deep sigh. It was no use, and either he make the decision to let go of his secrets himself, or he let the starborn do it. At least this way it would be his own choice.
He looked at Adam, "You probably don't remember m-"
"The Tesraki home world, you were the detective that arrested me. I seem to recall you telling me you thought I was an insufferable prick."
Desmond was surprised to find the Admiral remembered him, and so clearly at that, "I don't recall those being the exact words I used."
"I was paraphrasing."
He sighed, "Well, yes. After that, things seemed to be on the up and up for me. It wasn't long before I was head detective of the UNSC interstellar division, and I was good at what I did." He looked down at his feet, "A few years ago then Senator Hunt came to me with a proposition. He painted it all up like it came with Prestige and a massive pay increase. It was supposed to include exotic travel to new and exciting places as well. The way he phrased he job was...." He tilted his head back, remembering the man's face as he had spoken, "Dealing with problems in exotic locations." He shook his head, "I should have read the fine print."
I showed up one day for training and it.... well I didn't expect them to turn me into an assassin, and by the time I knew what was happening, by the time I wanted to get out, Hunt wouldn't let me go." He made a face and looked at the floor.
"He has collateral."
Adam shifted forward in his seat.
"What kind of collateral."
Desmond looked up miserably from where he sat on the couch, and met the man's eyes, not unkind, but not entirely sympathetic, "My ex-wife.... And.... My baby girl."