The early morning sky was overcast, streaked with grays that mirrored her mood. The jet hummed faintly as its systems powered up, the muted glow of control panels casting soft light over the cabin. She yawned as she boarded, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and found herself face-to-face with Volt, who was pacing near the cockpit. His gloves crackled faintly, sparks dancing across his fingertips—a telltale sign that his irritation levels were already climbing.
"You're late," he muttered without looking at her.
"Two minutes, Volt," she replied, brushing past him to her seat. "Relax. Or maybe channel all that energy into not frying the controls today?"
Tank let out a low chuckle from his seat. "Easy, kids. Let's not blow each other up before we even hit the ground."
Ghost, ever the silent observer, smirked slightly as he checked his gear.
She slid into her chair, her nano-blade sheathed at her side, and glanced over at Volt, who was still pacing. "What's your deal this morning? Forget your coffee?"
"No," Volt snapped, pausing to glare at her. "I just like to take missions seriously. You should try it sometime."
She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? I'm here, aren't I? And if I remember correctly, I handled the last mission just fine."
"Fine?" Volt shot back, his voice rising slightly. "It's because of you—"
Before he could finish, Ghost intervened, his voice calm but firm. "We all know why we're here, Volt. Let's focus on the job. Jeez trouble in paradise already."
Volt exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he sat down. She turned her gaze out the small window, watching as the dark clouds blurred past, but the tension in the cabin didn't dissipate.
---
Kykuit's voice crackled through their comms as the jet leveled out at cruising altitude. "Alright, team. Here's the breakdown: desert outpost, remote location, limited civilian presence. Target is a high-level weapons deal between factions known for their hostility toward us."
She leaned forward, focusing on the display projected in front of her. Satellite imagery of the outpost filled the screen—a cluster of shabby buildings surrounded by arid wasteland.
"Who's hosting the party?" Tank asked, leaning back casually but with an edge of curiosity.
Kykuit continued, "The buyers are former Black Sun affiliates. The sellers? A splinter group with a taste for black-market tech. Expect heavy resistance if things go south. We're aiming to intercept before the exchange happens."
Volt narrowed his eyes at the display. "Who's leading the buyers?"
Kykuit hesitated briefly. "That's where things get complicated. Intel suggests it's someone you have met before. A repeat customer. Yay!"
She froze, her chest tightening. "What?"
Volt's glare turned toward her. "It's cause of what you have been doing. Or not doing! You thought we wouldn't notice!"
Her jaw tightened as she processed the information. She remembered the man— the blurred picture flickering in her right eye. The augmented fighter who nearly took her out during the Dagger mission. She had thought leaving him incapacitated was enough. Clearly, she'd been wrong.
"It was chaos," she defended herself. "I didn't have time to double-check everyone."
Volt's fists clenched, sparks flaring around his gloves. "That hesitation could cost us this mission. You better not freeze up again when we see him."
"Enough," Kykuit interjected sharply. "The blame game can wait. Right now, you need to focus. Your priority is to disrupt the deal and neutralize the threat. I'll guide you through the outpost's layout as we get closer. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Volt replied, his tone clipped.
"Got it," she muttered, avoiding Volt's gaze.
---
As the call ended, she felt the weight of the tension still hanging in the air. She stood, heading toward the cockpit to speak to PS, while pretending to review additional mission details on a sleek tablet.
"Got a minute?" she asked, leaning against the doorway.
PS spoke up, "Trouble already? The jet hasn't even landed yet."
"It's about the target," she said, lowering her voice. "The guy from the last mission. Why wasn't I told he'd be there?"
PS sighed, setting the tablet down. "Because it's not about him. It's about the mission. You're professionals. Adapt and handle it."
"But—"
"No 'buts,'" PS interrupted firmly. "This isn't the first time you've faced someone from a past mission, and it won't be the last. Focus on the objective. The rest is noise."
She frowned but nodded reluctantly. "And Volt?"
PS smirked faintly. "Volt is Volt. You'll either learn to work around him or through him. Either way, figure it out before you hit the ground."
---
Back in her seat, she noticed Volt glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. She met his gaze and held it. "You want to say something?"
"Yeah," Volt replied coldly. "Don't screw this up."
Tank, sensing the growing tension, intervened with a grin. "Hey, Volt, save the fireworks for the enemy, huh? Let's not singe the newbie."
"Newbie?" she shot back, grateful for the distraction. "I think I've earned more than that title."
Tank shrugged playfully. "We'll see after this mission, Speedy."
She smirked despite herself, leaning back as the jet began its descent. The banter helped, but the knot in her stomach remained. She couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would be far more personal than she wanted it to be.