Chapter Text
“How do you feel about working with an Infected?” The interviewer, a bespectacled Perro, peers up from her papers to look at Liskarm, folding her hands. Liskarm raises an eyebrow. This could go either way. She was kinda hoping that there wouldn’t be any weird questions after three rounds of interviews and combat demonstrations.
“I don’t have any particular feelings on the matter. If they do their job, that’s fine with me.”
True enough. Not like she has any real problems with it. There might have been a couple back home, but she’s never really interacted with any “infected” before. Ain’t it just some stupid illness? Chronic, maybe, sure, but whatever?
“Excellent! We intend to have you work closely with another operator, Franka,” the interviewer says, jotting it down as she speaks. “She’s an excellent combatant, but a recent incident has left her with a mild case of oripathy, which has made it difficult to find employees comfortable working with her.”
Damn. Were people really that bothered by it?
“What happened?” Liskarm’s asking before she realises that prodding for personal details about her upcoming coworker is probably not the smartest move. Thankfully, the interviewer doesn’t seem bothered.
“An accident, unfortunately – an unexpected building collapse saw her suit damaged during an operation. She was unharmed physically, but we confirmed her oripathy a few weeks ago. She’s been on standby since.”
“Right. So what would my role be, working with her?”
“Miss Franka is occasionally reckless, and as a defense specialist, you will be required to support her in those moments,” the interviewer continues. Liskarm frowns. So she’s – what, a glorified babysitter? Good grief. “As your partner, Miss Franka will also be required to support you. I’m sure you’ll find her capabilities up to scratch – she has excelled in her previous performance reviews.”
Well, at least she’s babysitting a capable moron.
“That sounds great,” Liskarm puts on her ‘hire me’ voice, and nods like all of that sounded like everything she’d ever wanted. “She sounds like a perfect partner for someone like me.”
A lie, but she wants this job. Working with Blacksteel International is sort of a big deal.
“I’m so glad! We thought you two would be a good fit for each other. Now, I have a few more questions…”
Liskarm receives a call from the Perro lady three days later. She starts Monday.
“You’ll find the dormitories to your right – four people to a room. The keys are in your starter pack,” Liskarm’s already forgotten the name of whoever’s showing her around Blacksteel. The muted elation she’s feeling is kinda making it hard to concentrate. She’s nervous, too, like they’re gonna change their minds about her any minute.
“And over here is the break room – you’re welcome to any of the unlabelled food in the fridge. We have a coffee machine, and loose leaf tea if you prefer. Used dishes go in the tray to the right of the sink. Oh – Miss Franka is here!”
Liskarm snaps to attention as she’s ushered inside, noting the one person sitting inside by herself.
“Hm? What’s up, Katie? You got fresh meat for me already?”
Okay.
“This is Miss Liskarm, your new partner. Can I trust you to get her settled in?”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll break her in.”
Alright.
“Excellent! In that case, I’ll leave you two be. Come find me at my desk if you have any trouble, Miss Liskarm. Bye!”
The peppy Perro showing her around vanishes, and Liskarm is left in the room with a smarmy-looking Vulpo. Franka takes a moment to stretch, and then exaggeratedly gestures towards the chair opposite.
Rather than continue to stand there like she’s frozen, Liskarm takes a seat.
“So,” Franka knits her fingers, “what brings you to Blacksteel?”
“Money,” Liskarm answers, immediately. Sort of true. The pay is definitely a benefit. Franka snorts.
“Least you’re honest,” she says, scratching at her neck, “What do you do?”
“I’m a defense specialist. My arts manifest as electricity.”
“Shocking. They let you in, so you’re probably pretty good huh?” Liskarm isn’t sure if she’s trying to make a pun or not. “So, wanna spar?”
“Oh, um — I use a gun, not a melee weapon —” Franka shakes her head.
“I mean your shield . I read your file, plus, like, no offence, but look at you. Not exactly expecting you to swing a sword around.”
Okay, that’s just rude. Liskarm knows she’s a Vouivre! So what if she’s short! So what if she’s a little scrawny. Liskarm’s strong. She didn’t do fifty pull-ups a day for nothing.
“Okay. Let’s do it. It’ll let me see how you fight, too,” Liskarm says, keeping her voice level. The corner of Franka’s mouth quirks up.
“Excellent. Let me show you to the training halls, rookie.”
Franka springs out of her chair and struts towards the exit, her tail twitching with energy. Liskarm looks towards her bags, and to Franka, and back to her bags.
“Ugh, fine, I’ll give you the tour first. Then I’m going to take you for a test drive. Let’s see how much you can handle.”
Liskarm is beginning to feel a little like Franka sees her less as a person and more as a walking shield.
As it turns out, Franka is very, very good at using a rapier. Five minutes into their sparring session, Franka’s already aiming for the weak spots in her form — ones even Liskarm didn’t know about until about five seconds. Franka stabs at her abdomen, blade narrowing avoiding the edge of Liskarm’s shield and jabbing her ribs. That would’ve been a killer blow, were they not using training weapons.
“Point,” Franka says, triumphantly, withdrawing her blade and grinning from ear to ear. She’s so cheerful , it’s almost grating. “That makes 5 to 0, rookie.”
“Five to nil when I’m unarmed, you mean,” Liskarm retorts before she can stop herself. It simply earns her an even bigger grin. She hates to judge, but maybe — just maybe — this girl is deliberately trying to get under her skin.
Either that, or she’s just like that. Liskarm is unsure which is worse.
Still, as they ready up for another round, Liskarm’s got her eyes on the prize. Franka’s movements are well-trained, efficient, but the words of the HR manager are starting to ring true for her now. ‘Occasionally reckless’ is certainly an apt description. Part of the reason Liskarm’s having so much trouble blocking her is that Franka is more than happy to leave an opening of her own to seize an opportunity. It’s effective, and certainly caught her out, the first few times, but…
Liskarm watches carefully as Franka scans her, holds her stance cautiously, just like each round before. It’s her right to advance, so she takes a step forwards, forces Franka to adjust her stance. Franka steps back, effortlessly adjusting her footwork, before the glint in her eye belies an attack. There’s a certain way her pupils dilate when she sees it — which means, given prior experience, Liskarm is about to find an opening.
Rather than obeying instinct and guarding her body, Liskarm charges forwards, bashing Franka with her shield. Franka topples backwards, her rapier skittering off to the side. She looks at Liskarm, wide-eyed.
“You create openings whenever you lunge like that,” Liskarm says, offering her a hand, “It’s a smart trick, but someone observant will pick up on it fairly quickly.”
“So you think I’m smart, huh?” Franka thumbs her chin, before allowing Liskarm to pull her back to her feet. Notably, she doesn’t help much, letting Liskarm shoulder the brunt of her bodyweight. “Still, if I leave an opponent with enough time to study me, I’m not doing my job right.”
“You have a point there,” Liskarm admits. Blacksteel is known for being efficient.
“Still,” Franka advances a step, ignoring her lost rapier. “You’re pretty strong, huh? I’m not exactly sturdy, but it takes a good shove to knock me off my feet.”
“I’ve trained a lot. Wasn’t born strong, so I had to do something about it.”
Franka gets a little too close, and Liskarm isn’t quite sure what she’s doing. She paces around her, like she’s sizing her up.
“You train a lot, huh? You sound pretty dedicated, rookie,” Franka’s voice devolves into something roughly akin to a purr. “Mind letting me see the fruits of your labour up close?”
Up close? What does she — oh. Oh, no. This was not in the operator’s handbook.
“Are you —“ Liskarm has to ask, just to confirm, “— hitting on me?”
Franka blinks. “Uh, yeah? Not to be forward, but I’m hot, you’re hot, and I’m kinda bored.”
“Oh.”
Liskarm waits out a painful moment of silence before realising she has to muster some kind of response.
“I’m not, uh — I don’t think I’m into women,” Liskarm says, fruitlessly stuttering over her words. What kind of protocol was there for this? On her first day? Her first day, and she was already dealing with this kind of thing? If she hadn’t worked so hard to get here, Liskarm would simply pack up and go home.
Franka blinks, again. “Really? If I’m not your type, you can just say so, you know? I won’t be that offended.”
“Uh, no, I don’t think I’m gay,” Liskarm ekes out another sentence. It would preferable if this whole conversation ended sooner rather than later. She is here to collect a paycheck and gain experience, not to flirt with coworkers. “It’s never even crossed my mind.”
“Huh,” Franka looks genuinely shocked, “uh, my bad. Totally took you for a lesbian.”
She pauses, but then goes to fetch her rapier, shrugging it off like nothing’d happened.
“Well, whatever,” she says, flourishing her blade. “Forget it ever happened. I know I will! Anyway, I bet you can’t score another point before I score another five.”
Liskarm scoffs. “Unlikely.”
“Oh yeah? Try me, rookie.”
Liskarm did not win the bet.
Weird flirting aside, Blacksteel seems somewhat interesting. After their sparring session, Franka runs her through a bunch of logistical things (though she yawns all through it). First mission is scheduled a week from now, in Victoria. Bodyguarding for a rich merchant as he travels to the base of Kjerag, to trade. Feels somewhat archaic, but supposedly it’s the easier way to trade with them. Honestly, Liskarm didn’t even know where Kjerag was until last week or so. Apparently they’d opened up a new trading company.
Franka has the bunk directly above her. She can’t see her directly, but the light above her bed indicates a phone light. The other beds in their dorm are empty — for new arrivals, supposedly.
Which means, for the meantime, it’s just her and Franka. It occurs to Liskarm that up until now, Franka must’ve had this whole room to herself. She wonders, briefly, if Franka preferred it that way.
Was she really that lascivious? Is Liskarm going to have to find somewhere else to sleep some nights?
Well, whatever. Maybe she’s worrying about nothing.
Some first day, anyway.