th Squad



Water, that's all that could be seen. No, not water, it did not smell like water. Water had a fresh smell. No, this was something different. It smelled pure, sterile, stale; as if it had been sitting for eons...or at least as far as could be remembered. Eyes opened slowly, as if for the first time and that was all that could be seen, this translucent watery substance that was, in fact, nothing at all like water. A horribly distorted figure moved into sight now and said something indiscernible and waved a warped appendage. Whatever it was, its actions and words could not be understood and so the strange thing was just watched in silence, the liquid between them, distorting reality.

Buzzing? Was that what was heard now? Yes, yes it was a sound! Something so distant, yet it was somehow comprehendible. The intelligence that beheld the sound understood that something was happening. Sight told it that things were moving around and the buzzing increased its insistence. Louder, more intense. The buzzing began to throb at a regular interval. Louder, always louder. It began to hurt. This discomforting pain only grew and now the questions. Why? Why was this happening? Why did it hurt? What was going on? What was it that was being seen? Why did something seek to inflict such pain and torment? What had been done? Why was punishment being brought down? What transgressions had been committed? As the buzzing intensified, it became a low droning. The bass of the sound began to resonate all over, infecting the mind and body utterly.

All the while, the view changed constantly. Strange distorted figures moved back and forth here and there. What they were doing was totally unknown. They did not hear the sound, or if they did, it did not affect them. Were they the ones making the noise? Why were they doing this? What had been done? Why did they torment? Struggling would commence now, and this would get the attention of many of the figures. Many more began to drift in and out of view now. Their features warped and distorted as they seemed to do nothing but huddle and watch...the buzzing always growing louder. It hurt now. A scream of pain? No, there was no sound, only the horrible buzzing! Why? What had been done? Make it stop...please! Please stop...I am sorry. I did not know...what did I do wrong? Just please make the noise stop...

And then total nothingness. No. Not total nothingness. There was still that buzzing. That throbbing, buzzing still continued unabated. What was that noise? No. The noise was different now. It was not as loud, and instead of it being a throbbing buzz, it was a beep. The pain was gone, the noise stopped but that soft, monotonous beeping continued...

One of Tyger's feline ears flipped in irritation as he lay partially sprawled and leaning against one of the consoles within the cockpit of his Blue Steel Special. Several of the power armor's systems were up and running. The low hum of the active power core mingled with the occasional soft tones of operational systems going through their own constant checks and incomprehensible calculations. One of the consoles, the one that Tyger had inadvertently made a pillow with one of his arms, beeped constantly, begging for attention. One of his ears flipped again and he blinked himself awake slowly. His other hand moved to wearily rub the sleep out of his eyes. A low grown of tortured pain accompanied his movements and he came to realize what that horrible, evil buzzing noise was. Evil buzzing. Water. It was that dream again. He really could not consider it a nightmare, as it did not invoke any fear in him, only discomfort. Discomfort in that his own mind was trying to tell him something, and he just simply could not grasp it. These dreams came off and on, and they were always the same: viewing the world as if he were in an aquarium filled with a thick watery substance. He could not explain it, and this, like so many other things, was kept to himself. In fact, the dream had very few variances but the only one that seemed to vary all the time was how it ended. This was no exception, and it was now that he took to looking for what could have been causing that sound that he had become aware of as soon as he woke up. One of the systems he had run a check on some time before had completed, and his baby was telling him that it was done. He pressed the blinking button and once more wiped his eyes. He was unsure of what time it was, much less of how long he had been asleep.

It was only now that Tyger took the time to take in his surroundings. The motorpool bay was empty of anything alive, with the exception of himself, and all of the lights were out, save the service lights that remained near the doors leading to and from the motorpool. The various spinners and transports were cuddled together in their parking places, waiting in silent anticipation for when their operators would come down to take them out on their various patrols. Several suits of power armors sat in their loading cradles, some in various stages of disassembly as they were being repaired or maintained. Though most of them just sat there, with their pilot compartments open and warmly inviting, almost begging for someone to leap inside and power them up. Tyger had to smile to himself as he took in the powerful equipment that he found himself surrounded by. A low purr resonating from within his own throat as his hand lovingly caressed one of the consoles of 'his' Blue Steel Special. As he just silently stood there stretching and trying to get the feelings back in his limbs, he found himself recalling various aspects of his younger years, well before X.S.W.A.T. had claimed him. Of course, they would only dream of the sort of equipment that X.S.W.A.T. possessed here, it was irrelevant. A large bay full of high-speed assault vehicles and power armor, the acrid smell of lubricants, hydraulics and similar substances all stimulated his senses.

'Hey babe,' Tyger murmured aloud, though his voice was soft and ragged as one just waking up. 'What time is it?'

'It is zero four thirty nine.' Replied the sultry, feminine, though obviously automated, voice of the Blue Steel Special's AI.

The onboard computer systems were very advanced, and the AI was astounding, but it was not autonomous. He knew that, and in a way, it was a shame, for 'conversations' with the power armor were generally short lived and, well, very boring; pretty much limited to the sort of question and answer sessions like asking for the time. He had actually gone through great pains to ensure he had a top of the line AI installed in this new member of the Blue Steel Project, of course he would not tell anybody why he had some of the requests that he had made installed though. Despite the shortcomings of the AI, he could not help feeling comforted by its voice...even if it was border lining on the totally emotionless. Sometimes, he thought, it was far easier to communicate and associate with his baby than it was for him to even make an appearance at his desk.

Considering that it was almost quarter-till five, Tyger realized that he could use this time to get to his desk and finish up the rest of that horribly dreaded paperwork before anyone actually came in. After all, it was just the night crew that was around at this hour, and they were usually not a bother to him. The decision was made and with a slightly saddened sigh, Tyger completed the shutdown procedures for his power armor from the cockpit before climbing out of the pilot's compartment and to the hard floor of the motorpool. A soft pat of his hand upon the armored hide of the Blue Steel Special is given as he smiles up to the armored machine. 'Alright, I'm off for a bit, I will be back to finish the routine stuff. Who knows, if my requests were heard, I may even have some new target acquisition software for you.'

At that, Tyger left the motorpool, but not before making a thorough physical check of his baby before leaving. With any luck, he could get himself a quick shower, in uniform and that blasted paperwork done before anyone came in. Hell, if things worked out how he wanted, he would be back in the motorpool with his baby well before even the mechanics came in...


Tyger sat at his desk, a hand tugging through his hair as he glowered hatefully at the monitor before him. Three days ago he had to put down a 'Borg that had decided that it would be fun to play hopscotch on the roofs of cars and spinners as they flew about their business. Even now, the investigators were interrogating the remains of the perp after Tyger turned its limbs into scrap. He had lost count of how many vehicles were severely damaged, how many buildings had their lobbies and lower floors thoroughly trashed. The only consolation in this incident was that nobody was killed. Sure, there were dozens that were in critical condition, and hundreds more who were hurt, battered, burned or otherwise injured. But they would all live, especially considering the medical technology that existed here on Angelus. Now, that the conflict was over, there was always the paperwork to contend with. Two days of going through the 'hunt-and-peck' method of filling out the seemingly endless forms, crossing every 'T' and dotting every 'I'. He hated it with a passion. To Tyger, this was utterly pointless and was obviously a torture mechanism created to piss off, anger or otherwise restrain and punish him. He released an exasperated sigh as he saved and then printed off yet another document in triplicate. As he sat there, beginning the next form that would have to be filled out, he let his mind wander back to the incident...

'This is Squad Four-Nine-Bravo, we are requesting immediate X.S.W.A.T. backup at Thirteenth and Pine! Gotta pissed off 'Borg who's taking its frustrations out on a parking lot and...' The distress call was cut off for a brief moment, accompanied by several curses, alarmed screams and the sound of twisting, tortured metal. '...holy shit it ripped through the barricade! We need Power Armor assistance now!'

'Squad Squad Four-Nine-Bravo, this is X.S.W.A.T. Dispatch, power armor teams are mobilized and en-route. ETA is twenty minutes. Please stand by and attempt to evacuate the populace. Do not engage the target. I repeat do n...'

The transmission was suddenly cut off as Tyger flipped through the frequencies and keyed himself directly into the dispatch station. 'Hey dispatch, this is Blue Steel Two out at Twenty-Third and Bayside, I'm running to intercept. My ETA is going to be less than three mikes. Tell th...'

'Blue Steel Two, this is not in your jurisdiction. Stand down and get back to your patrol sector!'

Tyger only raised a brow in the general direction of the voice coming from the radio. 'Fuck you dispatch.' Oh, how he hated those dispatch guys sometimes. Always more concerned about doing things 'by the book' instead of just getting the job done. Didn't they realize how much damage could be caused in twenty minutes? How many lives could be lost? He piloted his power armor, the new, improved Blue Steel Special MKII, into a leap, back, leg and foot thrusters burning white-hot as the powered the eight ton suit of armor into the air to land on top of a skyscraper. The roof of the building cracking and buckling under the immense weight that the structure was suddenly forced to endure.

'Blue Steel Two, what are you doing? Get back to your patrol! Blue Steel T...'

The prattling dispatch officer was cut off as Tyger simply turned off his radio, switching it back to the normal police band. He could only imagine what was going down at that particular precinct house, how they were reacting and the phone calls that were already being routed back and forth to complain to his own precinct. He didn't care. Fuck 'em. He had a job to do and he wasn't going to let little things like 'jurisdiction' and 'regulations' keep him from doing it. Tyger then focused his attention on his sensor systems, scanning carefully for the angry cyborg. The tracking sensors of the Blue Steel Special picked up the target after only a moment of searching. Tyger smiled to himself, he lied. He was going to be able to intervene a lot sooner than three minutes, and with another leap, his power armor powered into the air on a thick column of blue-white fire and smoke, another skyscraper's roof suffering the same fate as the last.

He would continue leaping from rooftop to rooftop, almost like a giant metallic blue grasshopper going from one massive blade of steel, concrete and glass to another. Soon enough he had managed to not only catch up to the enraged 'Borg as it tore into a traffic jam, but he actually ended up about a block down its chosen path. Apparently the police barricades were of no consequence to the man-machine. Tyger gave a mental shrug and keyed up the Data-Tracker for his Combat Computer. After a few seconds, he was able to pull up an astonishing array of information pertaining to his target. As he took in some of that data he softly patted one of the consoles. 'You get all that baby?'

'Affirmative. All pertinent data referencing the target has been uploaded into the target database. Running deeper combat simulations...combat systems are at optimal.' Replied the sultry voice of the Blue Steel's AI.

'That's what I like to hear. Let's go kick some ass.' Tyger grinned and charged forward, though instead of leaping from the building as he had done before, he instead ran totally off of the surface and began a free fall. As gravity began to exert its will over the free-falling suit and its pilot, Tyger reveled in the sensation. Of course, he had to end it far sooner than he would have preferred and engaged his fight system, immediately turning the haphazard free fall into a controlled flight-assisted descent. As the Blue Steel Special made its rapid descent, Tyger keyed the safety off of his 25 mm chaingun, the internal motors allowing the four independent barrels to spin to life with a high-pitched whine.

'Hmm...' the Clade smiled to himself '...sing to me baby, lemme hear you purr'. The high-pitched whine suddenly turned into a flame-belching roar of utter terror as a controlled burst was unleashed towards the unsuspecting cyborg.

On the street below, the berserker cyborg in question had just finished heaving a squad car out of his way and into the path of several others that were giving chase. A dark, mechanical laugh filled with cold malice erupted from the voice-processor. Those silly cops couldn't keep up with him, much less actually be able to stop him. He was in mid-gloat when he heard the whining of engines. This caused him to give thought to his situation, but he figured that he could outmaneuver the power armor, or at least duck into somewhere it could not follow before it caught up to him. It was not the sudden screaming roar from above that caused the cyborg to stop cold in his tracks. Nor was it the face full of shredded asphalt and concrete. It was the realization that the short burst that tore a deep gouge in the road at his feet came from above, and was terrifyingly close to tearing into his head. The cyborg looked up in startled surprise to see the ten foot, eight ton Blue Steel Special descending upon him.

Tyger whooped in exhilaration as the heavy fist of his Blue Steel slammed hard into the right shoulder of the rogue cyborg, as he landed, he used the weight of the fall to increase the devastating impact of his strike. The landing had not only been teeth shattering, but had left a huge crater in the middle of the road from his demanding and sudden impact. Tyger shook his head to clear it, laughing to himself. Oh, he was loving this. It was only here, now, in the throes of battle, locked in mortal combat with his baby that he ever felt truly alive. 'Alright you deranged bucket of bolts...I am Officer Tyger, X.S.W.A.T. P.D., and you, my walking scrap-heap, are under arrest.' As Tyger spoke, he edged the power armor to its full height, leveling the chaingun at the cyborg as it staggered back from the impact. Its right arm hanging limply at the shoulder, much of the appendage mangled and useless after suffering the brunt of the surprise attack. '...though I don't know why I'm even bothering. We both know you're not going to surrender...and as much as I would love to tear you limb from limb and dump you in the sea, I do have to try and take you in alive. So please, make this a little easier on me and don't put up too much of a fight.'

The cyborg recomposed himself quickly enough and took in the status of his shredded arm, and then to the one that caused such grievous damage. 'Fuck you, pig' was uttered before the cyborg began to run off towards an alley, trying to escape the bulky power armor.

Tyger blinked at the cyborg's words. He truly did not believe it would surrender. They never did...bloody, ruthless and totally with out compassion and yet when they were caught, they begged for mercy. A soft sigh is given, loud enough to be heard from the Power Armor's speakers. ' can just run away and force me to gun you down...' It was obvious that the moment of pleasure had long since past at this point. He casually keyed a different weapon system, which caused a laser projector to rise from its retractable hard point on his shoulder. There was a bright flash of light and a searing blue-white beam lanced forward for but a brief second, and then it was gone.

The cyborg did not even know what hit it. First, he was running from the Power Armor full tilt, and then he was falling face first into the ground, hard. He realized the problem when he tried to get to his feet; he lacked any real use of his legs. Looking down, he groaned in angry frustration. The situation was far different than he had expected. Instead of having his feet bound with some sort of adhesive or tripwire device, what he saw instead was appalling. That dammed officer just cut both of his legs off just above the knees! He looked from the severed stubs of his mechanical legs to where his feet lay, and then to the Power Armor itself which was, now casually striding over to his location, the chaingun leveled and trained on him.

'Alright scrapfucker, yes, that is my new name for you now, scrapfucker, because you fucking pissed me the fuck off.' Tyger said casually, the chaingun now resting on the cyborg's chest. 'You have caused a lot of trouble around here, and because of that, I am afraid I am going to have to place you under arrest. Now, I am not going to bother reading you your rights, because it is quite obvious that you won't listen to me anyway. So, instead we will just sit here until the regular police get here and I can hand you off to them. You like the idea of that scrapfucker?'

'M'name ain't scrapfucker y'dammed pig!' the cyborg retorted with no lack of rage and malice in its modulated voice.

'That's quite alright.' Tyger said with a grin that could be heard over the Power Armor's speakers. 'I'm not a pig. So I guess we're even aren't we scrapfucker? Now, shut your face before I blow it off. There, that's a good boy.'

Tyger shook his head slightly as he came from the memories of that particular confrontation. They all seemed to be like that best it seemed anymore. On patrol all day or perhaps in the motorpool on standby only to have something go down that was only a marginal threat. That's what it all seemed to be: anything from several hours of anticipation to several days or weeks of boredom only to be broken up by thirty seconds of action, if that. The situation three days ago was pretty much the status quo it seemed to him. Though, despite the general boredom, he did get some amusement from the aftermath though. It wasn't very long until Tyger had all of the paperwork completed and in Captain Shurbrooke's inbox. Tyger made sure that all his files were saved before he shut off the system. A bit of a smile curled over his lips recalling further memories of that incident as he cut the lights off and locked everything up before making his way back to the motorpool...

'Alright, Tyger...' Captain Shurbrooke murmured as Tyger stepped into his office, closing the door behind him as he did so. ' know why you're in here again, right?'

Tyger only gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, his ears facing forward, showing that he was at least giving the impression that he was paying attention. 'To tell me that you're going to renege on paying up on the Lace and Steel pool you lost three weeks ago?'

Shurbrooke raised a brow at this and frowned slightly. 'No.'

'Oh, so you're going to pay up then? That's good because...'

'No, Tyger.' Shurbrooke interrupted.

'But you just said that...'

Shurbrooke sat back with a slightly exasperated sigh. 'No Tyger, what I have you in here for has absolutely nothing to do with the Lace and Steel event, or the money I owe...even if the match was a setup.'

'Yeah, yeah sure.' Tyger grinned. 'That's what they all say.'

'Look, this is serious. That crap you pulled today...'

Tyger squeezed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb with one hand, the other holding itself up to stop Shurbrooke from speaking further. 'Waitwaitwait...let me guess. This is about me leaving my patrol sector to take down a dangerous cyborg rampaging through downtown Angelus. Right?'

' is' Shurbrooke replied with a sigh. He was about to continue when Tyger cut him off again.

'Was anyone hurt?'

'Yes, there were...'

'By my actions, Shurbrooke. And hurt feelings, wounded pride and a limbless cyborg don't count.'

Another sigh. 'No. But...'

'Would it have been possible, if not, in fact, highly likely, that the 'Borg would have gotten away by the time the precinct in charge had their forces mobilized and in position? '

'Possible...yes, but not entire likely. Tyger, look...'

'You're right. He would have eventually gotten captured. But at what cost sir? How much more damage could he have caused? How many more people could have gotten hurt? Fuck! We are fucking lucky that nobody had been killed up to this point!'
'You make a good point, but...'

'So what? Are you trying to tell me, that I should have just let it go? That I should have just ignored the situation as a whole in favor of 'following the rules'? Is that what you are trying to tell me?'

'No Tyger, I'm not.'

'Then just what are you trying to tell me? Enlighten me, please.'

It was Shurbrooke's turn to squeeze the bridge of his nose now as he felt that he had totally lost control of this situation. 'Alright. First, this is not about you're taking initiative to do the right thing per se. But...but there are certain ways of doing things, procedures, as well as certain things that should be taken into consideration...'

'So you are telling me that I should have ignored the situation.' Tyger growled, folding his arms over his chest as he did so.

'No. you did the right thing by intercepting that cyborg. It was your actual method of getting there, and dealing with the situation that leaves much to be desired.'

'Tyger scoffed at this 'Oh for the love of...are they bitching about collateral damage again?'

'In a way. Yes.' Shurbrooke produced a rather thick folder and slapped it down on his desk in front of Tyger, who raised an eyebrow upon seeing the folder and looked back to Shurbrooke.

'Wow. That was quick...'

'Yeah, I think the paper monkeys have gotten the art of turning complaints about you down to an art form.' Tyger gave a halfhearted sarcastic smirk at this, but said nothing. 'Tyger. These are the complaints about today's incident. Most of these are detailing the extensive structural damage done to the roofs of several skyscrapers. Some of these are about people being scared shitless when you landed on top of their buildings...and let's not forget opening up with your chaingun. The list goes on, as you can see.'

Tyger shook his head. 'What I see is a group of people who are far more concerned about their comfort than their lives. They couldn't care any fucking less about anyone else but themselves...and heaven forbid that something fucking happen to their cars!' Tyger was on a roll now, he had suddenly become very animated, his irritation now a barely contained ball of rage, ranting with an exaggerated girlie voice. 'Oh no! This horrible Esper just came out of nowhere and is threatening to rape the minds of my best friends and coworkers. I hope that when X.S.W.A.T. gets there to take him out they don't damage my car in the process...or my computer. I can't have my work disturbed over something like this...oh jeeze, what if the computer gets destroyed along with my car? I don't care at all about my friends or coworkers, only my car and my fragile little bubble of reality I have imprisoned myself in!' Tyger shook his head, frowning. He continued, though is voice turning back to normal. 'Fuck that shit. It is my job to protect lives at whatever means necessary. If they can't accept that, then they can just go fuck themselves.'

'Tyger.' Shurbrooke growled. This was going a little too far. He was not sure what had suddenly set his best power armor pilot off like this, but having this devolve into a shouting match was not a good thing. 'You don't understand...'

Tyger spun on Shurbrooke barely before the words had left his lips. 'You're right, I don't understand. How can I understand? I'm just a dammed Clade after all! You Humans and your oh-so-high and mighty delusions of grandeur, thinking that YOU are important and superior when you're not. Yeah, I don't understand it at all. I'm here to do a fucking job and protect your kind and what do I get for it?' The statement was punctuated by a backhanded slap to the thick folder of complaints and paperwork that was on the desk, scattering the contents everywhere around the office. 'A desk-full of fucking bullshit!'

Shurbrooke was on his feet in a flash, his hands gripping the edges of the desk, as if willing the furniture to grant him the stability that it possessed. His voice was calm, level, though strained to the brink that he too was going to snap. 'That, Tyger, was completely uncalled for and you know it. Yes, I hear and understand your point, but this is getting excessive!'

'Excessive? Excessive?!? Since when does the cost of a life come with a price tag Shurbrooke? When did they start tallying the exact threshold when it was alright to allow someone to be hurt, maimed or killed instead of letting property take the punishment? Is there a point when I should hold my fire and let the bad guy do whatever he wants all for the sake of preserving property instead of life and limb?'

'There are rules and regulations that MUST be adhered to Tyger! There are reasons why they are in place, and that they have to be followed! As much as you preach about doing your job in protecting life and limb, following those regulations is also part of your job too! If you find that this is too conflicting, then perhaps you should have found a different line of work.'

Tyger was momentarily stunned at these words. He blinked a couple of times, giving the look as if he had been smacked upside his head with a lead pipe. For a moment, Shurbrooke thought that he had managed to drive at least part of his point home enough to get the pilot to understand his perspective. Shurbrooke was sorely disappointed. After Tyger recovered from his temporary stupefaction, his pupils narrowed into tiny slits, and his voice took on one that was cold and deadly serious. 'You fucking bastard. You god dammed fucking bastard. You know god dammed good and well that I was not given a choice. You know for dammed sure that I can't just fucking walk out of here either. Unlike you, you can do whatever you dammed well please. Me? Not only am I a fucking Clade, but I don't have the ability to just leave without getting gunned down like some rabid dog in the street! You have done a dammed fine job of pounding it into my head that i'm supposed to serve and protect...and now you are telling me that I am wrong? Fuck you!' Tyger punched the top of Shurbrooke's desk and turned on his heel, tearing open the door with a growled curse.

'Sergeant! Get back in here! I'm not done talking to you!' Shurbrooke moved around his desk, cursing as his knee hit the corner of his desk.

'You don't have anything to say to me that I haven't already heard before human.' Tyger flipped Shurbrooke off as he spoke over his shoulder. 'Why don't you go back to coddling your precious work and cars Captain Cockfucker? I have lives to protect and I don't have time to listen to your bullshit.' The door leaving the office area of the precinct house slammed hard, leaving Shurbrooke standing there with a strange mixture of emotions ranging from pity to anger and embarrassment. Those hanging around the office said nothing, though they had obviously heard every word, at least when things started getting loud.

Tyger stormed down the hall towards the motorpool, a black cloud seemed to have formed around the pilot that invoked some manner of aura. At least that is how it seemed to everyone in the hall, who suddenly stopped what they were doing to watch Tyger pass, or moved out of his way, like Moses parting the Red Sea. It went on like this all the way to the motorpool, a few of the mechanics tired to offer some form of greeting to Tyger, but were quickly warded off by his 'Gaze of Death', as that look he had occasionally gave seemed to be called. A string of barely audible curses met with Tyger's powering up of the Blue Steel Special, his Blue Steel Special, preparing the maintenance subroutines. When the pilot's compartment opened, Tyger crawled into the comforting leather seat of the cockpit and keyed the system to close, effectively locking him within the cold, comforting embrace of his power armor...

Tyger shook off those memories as he closed the door behind him leading into the hallway. He took notice that the doorknob had not been fixed yet from that particular incident. He cast off his thoughts on the matter, the issue had been resolved, and as usual, Tyger ended up having to deal with extra paperwork and other silly details. It could have been significantly worse he reasoned as he made his way down the hall and back to the motorpool.


Tyger sat at a workbench that he had pulled up beside his baby, nibbling at a breakfast sandwich he had purchased from a local vending machine. He was starting to develop a great dislike for processed food, especially when it was hot and squishy on the outside and still frozen on the inside. He purged the most recent bite from his palette with a gulp of micro-nuked old coffee. Yeah, he was developing a hatred for cold stale coffee too. He made a mental note to start bringing food from home...when he actually went home, so when he found himself in the motorpool like he did last night, he would not have to suffer such a wretched breakfast in the morning. The only thing that seemed to be going well enough was that he had managed to get that paperwork completed and on Shurbrooke's desk, and in record time too.

This was a very small consolation though. He was bored. It was not so much in being bored with X.S.W.A.T., or that he did not have something to do; it was more along the lines of the continuous repetition. Of course he could take his baby out on any patrol he saw fit, but more often than not, it was simply just that, a patrol. A reasonably long stretch of time spent running around in circles inside of a part of the city that was cordoned off by invisible walls and barriers. Oh sure, sometimes while out running through the maze of alleys, streets and buildings, something happened that was of interest or import, but that was seldom and disturbingly short lived. Upon recollection of this fact, Tyger suddenly realized that the incident that occurred three days ago was the most action he had seen in as many months. It was also at this moment that he began to question his own purpose at this particular station. These guys were X.S.W.A.T., sure. But they also were, more or less, complacent. Nothing happened in this part of the city, and they had patrols and on-call services to maintain appearances and to react in the event something actually did happen. Tyger held no doubts about the ability for these guys to hold their own in a fight, but the facts were clear as crystal: they did not seek action. They didn't want it...didn't crave it. Not like he did. Tyger sought action; he wanted the danger, the excitement. He Tyger needed it. It was in his blood and somewhere deep down, he knew it. It was right then and there that Tyger decided he needed to put in a transfer to one of the more active and down and dirty precincts.

It was well past nine in the morning before he had seen anyone, well; perhaps a better statement would be it was well past nine before someone came to speak with him. The mechanics and other servicing personnel had been present for some time running around attending to their duties, and he saw them of course, but did not pay them any attention, just as they simply ignored him as well. After all, he was considered to be 'that crazy obsessive PA jock' and was generally left to his own devices, which suited Tyger just fine. He had more important things to concern himself with other than what the mechanics were up to, such as the calibration of the shoulder laser for his baby.

'Hey! Is there a Sergeant Tyger here?' was the announcing voice of some stranger. Tyger heard someone calling his name and only grumbled from within the confines of the cockpit of his baby. The voice would call out several more times here and there, obviously trying to make itself heard over the clamor of those at work within the motorpool. Tyger knew that this stranger would be directed towards the Blue Steel Special eventually, so in preparation, he found himself a good stopping point in what he was working on and lit up a cigarette and simply waited. 'Umm...Sergeant Tyger?' the voice sounded off again, this time a lot closer.

Finally thought Tyger with a bit of a smirk to himself. He was sort of spoiling for an excuse to mess with somebody, and this was the best opportunity he would least without having to work for it. He was bored, and a bored Tyger is a dangerous Tyger. He peeked his head out from within the confines of his baby. 'Yeah? What is it?

'Captain Shurbrooke wants to see you Sergeant.'

Tyger looked over the young officer. Humph, fresh out of the academy. He had to be. Well, it was obvious that this kid wasn't anyone worth messing with, so with a sigh of frustration and irritation, he pulled himself out of the cockpit of his baby. 'Did he say what it was about?'

The young officer shook his head. 'No Sergeant. He only said for me to get you immediately.'

Tyger hopped down from the power armor and looked to the young officer, raising a brow. 'That so, eh? Did he sound pissed off?'

'He wouldn't tell me Sergeant. He just told me to 'get that walking war zone in here on the double', that's it. He did not sound too upset...I don't think.'

Tyger drained the last of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. 'Humph. I wander what the old windbag wants this time...' he mused aloud. He put out the cigarette and looked to the young officer. Tyger gave him a genuine smile and patted the young officer on the head as if he were a puppy with one hand. 'Thanks kid.' The other hand then placed the spent cigarette butt into the officer's front pocket, leaving before anything could be said one way or the other.

'Ahh. Sergeant Tyger' Captain Shurbrooke grinned. 'Come in and have a seat.' There was something in his voice, the way he smiled that had Tyger's fur stand on end. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but Tyger did take the offered seat as instructed and folded his arms over his chest.

'Alright, what's this about Shurbrooke?' Tyger frowned, there was just something, well, untrustworthy all of a sudden, about Shurbrooke and he let that fact drift into his voice.

Shurbrooke sat back and interlaced his fingers as he rested them upon his desk. 'I got an interesting report yesterday.'

Tyger noticed that Shurbrooke paused for dramatic effect, something that he was in no mood to deal with. 'So? What's that have to do with me?'

'Everything.' Shurbrooke placed a folder onto his desk and slid it just enough to ensure it covered the distance to Tyger's hand. 'The 9th Squad out of Precinct 13 took a trip into the Omega Sector...'

Tyger opened the folder and perused some of the report, mostly looking through what scant images were present. '...and they ran into some trouble and need someone to go in and look for and bring back any survivors, right?'

Shurbrooke shook his head solemnly. 'Nothing of the sort. The 9th Squad was determined to have been eradicated. Completely.'

Tyger raised a brow at this and put the folder aside. 'Alright, so what's your point? That sort of thing happens all the time.' He paused and looked to the folder for a moment and then back to Shurbrooke. 'Though usually it's not the entire squad that gets waxed. They screw up that badly?'

Shurbrooke shrugged his shoulders. 'No clue. All I do know is that Cadbury wants the 9th Squad rebuilt, and they are asking for volunteers before they start pulling people to the 13th Precinct. I figured you would be interested.'

Tyger frowned. 'And why would you figure that?'

'Quite simply, they see more action. The 13th Precinct is closer to the Omega Sector; as such they spend a lot more time getting themselves into the thick of it with entities. They also tend to have more hotspots and have to put down other nasties as well.'

'So?' Tyger was trying to sound uninterested, but like all cats, the tail never lies. At this prospect of a transfer and seeing some action, his tail flipped back and forth betraying his interest. Even his feline ears swiveled to be focused totally on what Shurbrooke had to say.

Shurbrooke hid a bit of a smile. He had learned how to pick up on Tyger's mannerisms long ago, as such; he knew very well just how interested the pilot was at this point. 'I know you're bored Tyger. Don't try to deny it, because it's the truth. Hell, everyone in the bloody building knows it. You need to be out there taking care of business.' Shurbrooke jerked his head in the direction of one of the windows with that last sentence. 'Not in here waiting for the business to come to you.
'Look Tyger, I'll be perfectly honest with you. You cause a lot of damage and more than a little trouble for this part of the city, and Cadbury herself suggested that you be placed somewhere where your energy, skill and aggression could be put to far better use. You get moved to the 13th precinct, pick up the slack left over there as a member of the newly reformed 9th Squad, you get the action that you crave and all the ass you care to kick. That also gets you out of here where my life is made easier because I won't have complaints about a power armor pilot tearing up the street at the slightest provocation. It's a win-win situation for all of us.'

Tyger thought on the proposal for a few moments, taking a long, thoughtful drag from his cigarette as he did so. Was he interested? He would be a dammed liar if he said he wasn't. Was he considering taking up the offer? He would be insane not to. Apparently, the Captain's words had hit a good spot within the Clade which caused him to smile. It was not a warm, jovial smile, rather it was a cold predatory one. 'That's what I thought.' Shurbrooke grinned. 'Take the rest of the day off and report to Precinct 13 Monday morning at zero-eight. They will make sure you're all taken care of from there.'

Tyger raised an incredulous brow at what Shurbooke just told him. 'What? Did you suddenly become an ESPer and now you can read my mind? What makes you think I even want to go join up on some suicide squad?'

Shurbrooke only grinned in reply. 'C'Mon Tyger, I know you well enough. And we both know that you'd be a dammed fool to not take this opportunity.'

'Well...what if I told you that I decided to become a pacifist?' Tyger gave a Cheshire Catlike grin.

Shurbrooke blinked and then just broke out laughing. 'The day you become a pacifist will be the day of your funeral or the day that Hell freezes over, whichever comes first!'

Tyger could not help but laugh as well. 'Alright, alright. Ya got me there.' After taking a moment to recompose himself, Tyger then stood up and offered his hand to Shurbrooke. 'Thanks, I really appreciate this.'

'Think nothing of it.' Shurbrooke replied, taking the hand offered to him. 'We all know you belong out there on the front. I'm only thankful I can send you there on good terms.'

'Speaking of good terms...' Tyger smirked. ' about that cash you owe me?'

Shurbrooke groaned good-naturedly and shoved a hand into his pocket and withdrew a plastic card and handed it to Tyger. 'Here, now get the hell oughta here ya bloodsucking Pirate.'

Tyger raised a brow at the comment. He was unsure how he should respond. Obviously Shurbrooke didn't mean anything by it. He gave a mental shrug to the slur and replied with a grin 'Aye! I best be getting' off wit' mah booty then.'

Both Tyger and Shurbrooke enjoyed a bit of laughter then. 'You know,' Shurbrooke smiled 'I am going to miss you.'

'Me or the fact that I keep things interesting here and your paper-monkeys busy?'

'A bit of both I guess. Though I won't miss any of the paperwork that you caused...and I'm sure that nobody else will either.'

Tyger offered a shrug of his shoulders in reply. 'Well, I guess it would be best that I get oughta here then. Have to make sure that my baby has the best parking spot you know.' Tyger grinned as he left Shurbrooke's office.

Fortunately for Tyger, there was not much that needed to be dealt with along the lines of paperwork. This ended up making the transition all that much easier to say the least. Oddly enough, when he climbed into his baby, he felt better. He actually had to admit that it has been well over a year and a half since he had felt this good. Of course that did not bode well...the last time he felt things were going good and all was well, was when his luck ran out; when he bit off far more than he could chew and got kicked in the head for it. He looked at a battered picture that he kept in every suit of power armor he had ever owned. He knew that many of the people that those faces belonged to were dead. Most of them had simply found their end at various raids at any given time, while others had met their fate attacking Angelus with him. Some, however, he could not know what had become of them. Most of those faces, both alive and dead, were friends of his, or at least the closest thing he could consider to be friends at any rate. The way he saw things, was that when a given situation was at its best, what would immediately follow would be the exact opposite. A constant track record with him it seemed: the higher he rose, the harder he fell. It wouldn't be so bad except that he rarely, if ever got to enjoy being on the top. With a mental shrug he decided that it would do no good to dwell on the patterns of his life and simply go with the flow. Who knows, perhaps he would be wrong this time? I still can't believe that I've gone straight. Tyger shook his head and banished the thoughts and powered his Blue Steel Special from the precinct garage and into the city itself. He wasn't exactly sure what he should expect when he got there, but at least there would be something for him to do and targets to unleash himself upon. That was at least something...right?