According to the Director, it was a fairly simple mission. Go in, download the info into the memory disk, torch the place and get out. Yet, somehow Agent New Jersey noted how almost every typical mission in Project Freelancer suddenly did a 180 turn to a downward spiral. She liked the excitement, but the good kind from skydiving and bungee jumping, not the "Oh-shit-we're-gonna-die-please-let-me-live" kind.
The redheaded girl let out an exasperated sigh, picked up her bag, put her CQB helmet on, and headed towards the armory for her weapons. "With my luck, it's gonna go wrong. At least I'll have someone to watch my back when the spiral hits."
Jersey was familiar with the other agent assigned to the mission, Agent Kentucky. He was the best demolition expert on the Mother of Invention, even made his own custom bombs, one shaped like a burrito. However, his habits were... eccentric to say the least. She had worked with him before on a few missions, which often led to fiery explosions in a very spectacular fashion.
She just shrugged and reminded herself that Freelancers come in all different flavors, no matter how bad the taste.
When she finally did arrive at the armory, her backup was already there, armored up and sitting amidst a pile of tools, frayed wires, digital timers, remote detonators and hand grenades, humming to himself as he worked.
"Boom, bu-boom bum boom..." He took a wire-cap and used it to splice a red and black wire together. "Buboom, boom, baboom." It was obvious that he hadn't noticed her enter.
Jersey quirked an eyebrow at the sight of a badass space warrior in full body armor sans the helmet, making bombs on the floor while grinning like a demented kid putting his toys back together after taking them apart. Next to him were several pipe bombs, C4 plastic explosives and grenades that were familiar from her days as a Marine.
Frag grenades, sticky grenades, wait, isn't that the Napalm he tried to make in the mess hall?
Then she spotted a defunct spike grenade next to him and picked it up, "You use a spike grenade as a melee weapon?"
"That I do, friend. Not as fancy as those little stabby bits you keep around, but it gets the job done." The green Freelancer didn't turn to face her as he spoke. "Good to see you again, by the by... Agent Joooiiisey." He plopped the tangle of wires and dull-gray putty into half of a spherical casing, then began screwing the second half on.
"Likewise," The orange-armored Freelancer quipped while inspecting the weapon she held in her hands. Her face contorted in disgust as she thought of the damage the explosive-turned-melee-weapon could do. Blunt force trauma plus spikes to the brain. Ouch.
"Look I'd usually cut you more slack than the rest of the schlubs around here," the green armored man continued, still working on his latest bomb, "But it'd be a dick move to not warn you: I wouldn't touch things near where I'm working if I were you."
"Come now, you know I've always been known to throw caution to the wind, Kent," The redhead said, putting down the makeshift mace beside its owner. She opened up an ordinance locker, picked up a shotgun and stared down its sights, despite the huge pile of explosives inches from her feet, "Though I have to admit, I still have never seen anyone with such an unhealthy obsession with explosives before. Way too many for a torch-and-burn operation."
"Says you!" Kent turned, speaking a bit defensively. "You can never have enough explosives, I can promise you that. I have never found myself with too many, only too few."
Kent gathered up the ordinance into his satchel before walking to the locker labeled "Reserved: Specialists Only." He flipped it open and retrieved his fuel rod gun from where it hung beside Maine's brute-shot. "Good mornin' gorgeous," he murmured to the weapon.
"To each his own, I guess." she shrugged, picking up two SMGs from another locker, along with three each of fragmentation, sticky, and spike grenades. Then she eyed the fuel rod gun and it reminded her of a question she had meant to ask, "Is it true that you tried to make fuel rod ammunition?"
Kentucky paused just as he was about to put his helmet on, and sighed. And I just keep getting pestered about my flaws. "Yeah. That happened." He turned to look at Jersey before tapping the large scar on the left side of his face. "And then I got this." He put on his helmet before brushing past her, and tapped her artificial arm with the spike grenade. "Besides, you're one to talk."
"Hey, I'm just saying," she said, stepping out of the armory, "It's better to ask than stare at it all the time. God knows I get that alot." Then she dug into her bag, "Anyway, here, you must be hungry."
Much to Kent's surprise, she held out a small burrito, filled with fried potatoes, sour cream and melted cheddar cheese wrapped in a white soft shell. She made them beforehand in the mess hall, going on the rumors that he'd sometimes forget to eat.
"It's never good to go on high-risk missions with an empty stomach."
Kentucky felt a loud grumbling in his stomach and quickly took the food, before tipping his helmet up to eat it. "...Mmmm... you know what?" Kentucky smiled as he finished the first bite. "This ain't half bad." He dove into another bite as soon as he'd finished speaking.
Jersey crossed her arms and chuckled, "My dad always said eating cafeteria crap every day is bad for morale. Anyway, come on, Pelican's waiting and we've got a place to blow into orbit."
Kent chuckled. "Hey now, why stop at orbit? You gotta think big here, Joisey." he slipped his helmet back down as he followed her to the launch-bay.
As the two approached the launch bay, a small yellow armored figure took shape over Kentucky's shoulder. I hope you guys realize you're running late, right? Four-Seven-Niner hates running late! The figure wrung its hands nervously.
"Here I thought Lambda was a worrywort, " the shorter Freelancer said as her assigned AI materialized over her shoulder, a teal avatar in the shape of a man wearing standard Mark VI with letters and number scrolling down its body.
[I am going to pretend to you didn't say that.] Lambda replied almost bitterly.
Jersey rolled her eyes as they entered the Pelican and took their seats, "Come on, Lamb, you know that was a joke."
It's nothing to joke about, Agent New Jersey! She's only the person our very lives will rely on for the next part of our existences, it would behoove us to not upset her.
"Dear God, do you ever shut up?" Kent knocked the side of his helmet in exasperation. Both agents strapped themselves into their safety harnesses when the Pelican gave a lurch going out the hangar bay to the planet below.
"You need a rundown of the mission, Kent?"
"Well, I'd already got the general idea back at the briefing. But if you wanna go over the details again, by all means please do." Kent was happy their visors were so unreadable: He'd only paid enough attention to the brief to memorize the weaknesses of the enemy stronghold. He'd then been distracted by formulating the perfect boomers to exploit them.
"Well, did you pay attention to the secondary objective?" Jersey asked, "I remember the Director giving you twelve tons of shit after your last mission where you bombed the place and forgot to keep everyone alive."
He WHAT!? Rho put a hand to where his mouth would be, shocked.
Kentucky whipped around to face the hologram "Shut up, noob!" he turned back towards Jersey, slowly. "That was over a month back and you damn well know it." He leaned back and turned away before folding his arms. "Just tell me the goddamned secondary."
A small-scale hardlight projection of the facility appearing front of them, courtesy of Lambda. A blue arrow pointed to a room two levels below.
"While this is primarily a 'torch-the-fuck out of this place' mission, the Director wants us to find the main terminal down in the lower levels and download into this disk." Jersey pulled a disc out of her belt and showed it to her partner. "After we're done downloading everything, we set the place to blow and get out of there before the explosion is visible from space. How we do it is up to us, though. Should we stay together or split-up?"
You're gonna stick together, of course! Rho moaned before manifesting an image of the two agents back to back. By consolidating a two-man force, we can keep all three-hundred-sixty degrees within total situational awareness. without sacrificing much mobility.
The image then shifted to show Kent blasting several cube-shaped targets at range. Another cube appeared behind the image, only for Jersey's image to stab it. Not to mention, your skill-sets complement each-other quite nicely.
He's got a point. We really rely on these AIs a lot, Jersey thought while seeing Rho's display.
She quickly turned to her own construct, "Lambda, find the quickest route to the computer terminal, one doesn't run us into an ambush or a frickin' Scorpion tank."
Then she turned to Kent, "Can you see what kind of exploitable weaknesses are around the base?"
The boom-mongering agent smiled. "But of course! In the compound there's a rather large generator running on good ol' fashioned oil from a nearby pipeline. If we can find where it feeds into the facility, and rig a remote charge on the way in, we can pretty much put the demo job on speed dial. Easy-peasy!"
Jersey felt a little more confident in this mission, but it didn't stop the hairs on the back of her neck from standing. Why do I still have a feeling that something's gonna go wrong? It was as if the pelican would spontaneously explode.
Something impacting on the rear bay door, followed by a violent shake, made her think just that.
"What the fuck was that?!" Jersey blurted out.
"HEY!" Kent shouted up at the front of the Pelican. "Check your flying, lady!" He probably wouldn't have shouted had Rho not been screaming bloody murder in the back of his head.
"Hey, you want to fly this oversized metal while evading enemy rockets, then be my fucking guest, bomb-nut!" Four-Seven-Niner cackled over the intercom.
"Rockets on the what-ZOMBIE CHRIST ON A POGO STICK!" Jersey managed to say before another impact shook the ship much more violently than the first time. The Freelancer steeled herself as she took off her safety harness and stumbled over to the cockpit. "Hey, pilot, open up the rear bay door and fly low and as close to the base as possible. We're jumping off!"
"Wait, what?!"
WAIT, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!
[Agent New Jersey, are you seriously are considering-] Lambda began to protest because being cut off by the large door slowly opening, revealing the blindingly white snow below, [Oh, for the love of the Alpha, you are!]
Kentucky sprang up from his seat and kicked open a glass compartment labelled 'For Emergencies Only.' He took a thruster pack and tossed another one over to Jersey. "Well, it would seem as though a stealthy insertion has failed us. Only one option left... We party hard!"
As Kent slung his own pack over his shoulders, he could hear Rho get up to his blathering again. NonononononononononoNOOOOOO! The murmuring only got louder as the rear hatch of the drop-ship opened up.
"If the Director made stealth a priority on this mission, he would've sent the Dakotas instead!" The orange Freelancer yelled over multiple 102 mm projectiles whistling past the dropship while she strapped the thruster pack on her shoulders and leapt off the edge of the Pelican dropship.
Kentucky took on a manic grin before diving out of the Pelican. "BANZAAAAAAI!" The duo wove and dodged between the shots as the drop-ship cruised away, damaged but still able to fly. They plummeted down to terra firma until at the very last moment the thruster-packs fired automatically. Roaring jets of fire countered the agents momentum, and while Kent still hit the ground hard, the impact only left a few bumps and bruises.
With momentum, Jersey did a backflip in mid-air and landed on her feet with a THUMP with the impact leaving a noticeable impression in the deep snow.
At first it looked like the landing didn't faze her one bit...until she doubled over onto the snow and groaned out an "Ow...my knees."
[Jersey? Are you-?]
"I'm fine, Lambda," she blurted with false bravado, her legs feeling numb, "Just give me a minute...to get the feeling back in my legs."
[Then I suggest you find cover. I detect several enemies inbound.]
Kent sized up the Warthog speeding towards them before taking loading his gold-plated weapon. "Denied!" He launched a volley of shots, and while the Warthog dodged several direct hits, the air-burst from the times rockets still did a heavy number on it. The vehicle flipped on its side and started skidding towards them. Uh-oh.
[Oh dear...] Lambda quipped when he saw the Warthog barreling towards Jersey. Her armor enhancement, or even her armor for the matter, wasn't meant to protect his host from head-on collisions with speeding vehicles. [Jersey? Can you move yet?]
"Just give it a second."
[Jersey, I seriously think-]
"No, no, hold on."
The jeep skidded against the white powdery snow until it came to a complete stop mere inches from where Jersey was recovering.
The Warthog's driver and passenger hung upside down by the seat belts, groaning and trying to get their bearings. Or at least they would have if Jersey's shotgun hadn't torn a gaping hole in the windshield and their midsections.
Kent ducked down behind the wrecked vehicle as bullets spanked and whined off of his improvised cover. He glanced over at Jersey. "Heyo, think you can get us some cover fire thrown up?"
Switching from her shotgun to one of her two submachine guns, Jersey stumbled next to the Warthog, the feeling in her legs coming back. She popped out of cover to fire her weapons, only to see yet another rocket missed her head by inches and explode a few feet away.
With renewed vigor and resolve, she called out her construct, "Lambda!"
[Ready to assist!]
"Activate the Hardlight Shield! We're gonna give Kentucky some covering fire." Jersey gripped her guns
[Acknowledged.]
With a deep breath, the Freelancer made a dash out of the makeshift cover, away from Kent. She aimed and fired a single submachine gun while she stuck her prosthetic arm out and the mechanism on her wrist activated. Out of her hand, a teal hardlight rectangle materialized in front of her and deflected any bullets fired at Jersey.
"Kent!" she yelled out, "Fire your fuel rod gun!"
Kent grumbled to himself before loading up Tess. "Don't tell me how to do my job!" he barked. Then he took aim and let the rockets fly forth. The explosions took out several hostiles and threw up a veil of smoke and shrapnel and snow as the winds began to pick up.
Through the whistling, blustering cadence of the storm, Kentucky keyed his radio and whispered. "Much as it pains me to say this, we should probably just ignore these guys." He shut off his helmet's floodlights before smirking to himself. "For now, anyways." He had Rho put a waypoint up, highlighting the pipeline junction they were aiming for.
"Agreed, this snowstorm should give us some breathing room." The other Freelancer commented, following behind Kent and watching his back to make sure no one snuck up behind them, "Lambda, bring down the shield."
[Executing.]
While it was true that the winds picking up helped them, they remained alert in the formation that Rho had recommended earlier. Anyone with half-a-brain could see Jersey's orange or Kent's bright green at close range.
Thank god for the butterfly knives, the female Freelancer thought.
Kent crept forward, uncertain of his surroundings save for their objective. They gave the base a wide berth until the pipeline came into sight. The duo hurried to the target, wary for any possible interruptions. The snow may have concealed them, but it was also wreaking havoc on their motion trackers. Kentucky kneeled down and opened up his satchel before glancing up at Jersey. "Make sure nobody gets the drop on us, yeah?"
"Alright," she answered before turning to Lambda, "Keep an eye on your sensors. I need you to watch for hostiles and get the shield ready to deploy for when there's trouble."
After her AI followed her commands, Jersey kept an eye out for anything, pulled out her shotgun and waited.
Kent connected a few wires and a small, blinking device to a wad of heavy-duty demolition explosive before sticking it to the pipeline. "Alright, time to leg it." He bundled up his supplies and turned towards Jersey, his work completed for now.
"Lambda, put up a marker to the server room and find the fastest route," Jersey ordered.
Once her AI gave his affirmative, the two Freelancers made their way through the snowstorm, silently tiptoeing past grunt soldiers or anyone unfortunate enough within face-stabbing range.
That when she noticed something was off. The amount of manpower outside and inside was staggering, but what was in here that needed so many soldiers and Scorpion tanks?
"HEY! It's them!"
"What are you-oh, shit on a brick! OPEN FIRE!"
A small team of grunts spotted Jersey and fired their Battle Rifles and DMRs in panicked tandem, but her Hardlight Shield bounced the bullets off in any random direction. She answered back by bludgeoning one on the head with a spike grenade and kicking him towards the middle of group. The grenade detonated and the grunts died in a plume of red gore, sparks and shrapnel.
"...That...was a little messy." She said, her face contorted in disgust under her helmet.
They could hear frantic shouting from elsewhere in the snowstorm. It would only be a matter of time before the soldier's comrades traced the sound of gunfire right to them. "Well, stealth's failed. Again," Kentucky chuckled as he pulled a pair of grenades off of his belt. "Let's rock these bitches!" He took of at a sprint towards the objective with Jersey hot on his heels, and even slapped a plasma-grenade onto some poor soldier as he whipped past.
He could hear shouts of "Oh god, is it a spider!? Get it off!" just before the phosphorescent explosion.
"I was never good at stealth anyway!" she called, sent a grunt to his grave with a shotgun.
It was one of the few weaknesses she had. Jersey had the worst scores when it came to sneaking and stealth. Her ears turned warm on that thought as two grunts had their heads explode from her SMGs.
[As you stated before, the Dakota twins would've been deployed if the Director needed a stealthy approach.] Lambda commented calmly through the chaos of gunfire, plasma, and metal shards.
Kentucky nodded as he ran. "An excellent point, little man, he did sent ME after all!" The agents sprinted through the storm, chaos and bodies forming in their wake. Soon enough they drew close enough to the base that they could make out the entrance to the facility.
Kent emitted a high-pitched whine like a camera charging up, before his sprinting form took on a strange distortion. "Well, here we go!" he shouted as he pulled out a tube with a spiked tip from his satchel. The tube took on the distortion as he pulled back, and traded the warping aura for a huge boost of speed when he threw it.
The spike imbedded itself in the large, metal door before detonating, and blowing a hole in it large enough for a person to fit through.
Jersey let out a low whistle of the display of Kent using his Jump drive before Lambda caught her attention, [Hostile, behind you!]
Jersey whirled around just in time to see a blade of a knife swiping past her helmet. With little effort, Jersey seized and unfolded her butterfly knife in one smooth movement.
The grunt never stood a chance as the poor schmuck had his throat sliced. Red spewed out all over the pure white snow and he immediately crumbled into a heap. She folded and safely tucked her weapon away before turning back to enter the facility.
"I hate it when they do that." She said while following Lambda's route to the terminal.
"Agreed." Kent nodded as he darted to the side of the gap, fuel-rod gun aimed out into the storm. "Ladies first!" he chuckled as he nodded towards the entrance.
Jersey entered the facility and followed the diamond on her HUD while white grunt soldiers came in what seemed like endless waves.
"How many of you fuckers are in here?!" she blurted out while a grunt's chest exploded from a shotgun blast.
Kent just turned around and screamed "LESS TALK MORE HUSTLE!" the duo dashed down the hallways of the facility, shooting and blasting until they reached a large room. A blinking aura replaced the waypoints on the HUDs, showing around a large computer console in the center of the room. Kentucky hit a button labeled "Emergency Lockdown" next to the doorway they'd entered through and a huge metal door slammed shut, blocking the hostiles from getting in.
For a while, at least.
Jersey let out a huge sigh of relief, but soon realized that the grunts would use their brains and break down the door eventually. She slung her shotgun over her shoulders and pulled out the disk. Inserting the disc to the terminal, she called out her AI.
"Lambda, transfer yourself to the memory disk and start the download. We need to wrap this up quickly and blow this place to the ninth circle of Hell."
[Acknowledged,] the construct responded before his avatar glowed brighter and the numbers scrawling down its body moved faster than normal, [Beginning download...five percent...16%...29%...]
While Lambda was busy with the download, the team spent what little time they had to reload their weapons and set up traps, primarily proximity sticky grenades along with a plethora of explosives from Kent's own satchel.
"So, Lambda, any idea what's in there that worth throwing away hundreds of lives?" Jersey asked almost bitterly.
[Analyzing...], it took Lambda less a second to come up with an answer, [it seems to be a single data packet containing blueprints for...a vehicle of some sort.]
Kent inspected the screen as the various files being processed blinked past it. "Are you sure about that?" He peered closer at an image before it blinked off the screen. "Cause I'm pretty sure that was a boot just now."
[Download complete...accessing data...] Lambda brought up the files on-screen and blurted out, [Oh dear Alpha, it seems I was wrong.]
"HAH! Called it!" Kent pumped his fist triumphantly at his short-lived victory.
Rho, meanwhile, manifested and hovered next to the console. Brother? Is something wrong? He shifted his weight, uneasy with his fellow AI's tone.
[This...these are blueprints for a Heavy Mech. It seems the Insurgents have been busy.] Lambda waved his hand, the screen changing on command, [I think this answers your question, Jersey.]
Then he stopped and turned to his host, [These designs are the reason for the excess security and why everyone in the facility would kill and die for. No one in the UNSC has developed anything like this.]
Kentucky glanced down at the blueprints and cocked an eyebrow. "Really? We haven't?" he looked back up a Lambda "Why not? I mean you could just bolt some guns on a Cyclops, right?"
Rho edged closer and flipped through the files before turning to Lambda, his voice fluctuating from stress. Sweet Alpha, they don't actually have one of them here, do they? Oh man, we would be so boned!
[There is no reason for alarm,] Lambda replied to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulders, [According to the data, I calculate a 30% chance of the Insurgents were able to build a successful prototype.]
The moment Lambda finished his sentence, a loud metal crash caught both Freelancers attentions before the large heavy door went flying off its hinges and crashed into the other side of the room.
Jersey pulled the chip out of the terminal tucked it away safely before she asked, "So, Lambda, how is that percentage looking now?!"
[100%. I forgot to account the audio logs of the chief scientist.] The teal figure glowed with a tinge of red, a sign of embarrassment.
The metal giant was massive, and had to hunch over just so that it could fit beneath the ceiling of the terminal's chamber. Its frame blocked out a lot of the lights that shone above it, making it difficult to make out any of the fine details of its design. That said, the large tank-like barrel that extended from it was pretty hard to miss.
The agents stood stark still for a moment, until the machine spoke. Even through the suit's distortion, it was easy to tell that the pilot's voice had a cold, detached ring to it that could rival Delta's. "I hate to make demands before introductions... But I believe those blueprints don't belong to you."
Jersey squinted as she could make out a person inside the cockpit of the oversized machine. She gave her an idea and instantly pulled out her SMG. She fired a few bursts, but other than a few cracks, the pilot remained unharmed and the glass stayed intact.
Bulletproof glass. Right, it's never that easy...ever.
The giant was perfectly still for a single moment, with Jersey still pointing her SMG at it. The pilot then let out an indifferent grunt before an armored shutter closed itself over the cockpits glass. "Very well then."
What happened next can only be described as a once-in-a-lifetime miracle. An odd voice came not from the pilot, but from the machine itself. It sounded like a deep, foreboding, metallic baritone. That said, the nasally enunciation of the voice's owner made it obvious it was just recorded through a voice changer. And the loud, gaudy action music playing in the background didn't help. At all.
"FIRING MAAAAAAAAIN CANNOOOOOOOOOOOOON!"
Jersey moved with almost inhuman reflexes, placing herself in front of Kent before deploying the hard-light shield. The large gun fired a burst off, but the Freelancer's glowing shield deflected them. Two of them even took out some important-looking support beams.
That said, the impact still sent Jersey flying back into Kentucky, and the two ended up soaring through the air. They landed not so far from a hole another round had punched through the wall. Cold air rushed in to embrace them as the chamber began to quake.
The pilot on the other hand looked down at his controls, confused about why his design had gone and warned the enemy. And why it was still playing what sounded like some terrible, ancient electronic wailing. And then it hit him.
...Fucking interns.
A groan escaped from Jersey's mouth as she fought to stay conscious. Darkness skirting around the edges of her eyes became clearer and she shook her head to keep it straight. Despite no broken bones and her armor softened the impact, her whole body throbbed in pain and she struggled to get on her feet.
Only Kentucky was on top of her in a very awkward position and unconscious.
Good GOD! He is so fucking heavy!
"Kent, KENT! Wake up!" She said, shaking him awake, "This building's about to collapse any minute and a giant metal robot ready to kill us!"
Kent shot back into consciousness with a start, and it took him a moment to recall his surroundings. "Huh. Well." The agent rolled off of Jersey and stood up straight. "Seems like running'd be the best thing to do about now, doesn't it?" He offered the orange freelancer a hand.
With momentum, Jersey grabbed Kent's hand and climbed up on her feet.
[Escaping through the hole seems to be the recommended course of action.] Lambda said when the cheesy action music blared again.
Jersey glimpsed at the heavy mech as its thruster pack on it back flared to life in blue flames and pulled back its giant clawed arm. "DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAMOND PUNCH!" the machine roared as it blasted off the ground, into the air and for the two Freelancers.
"Oh, sweet Beatrice on a pita! Outside, NOW!" Jersey screamed rushing out of the building and into the harsh cold climate.
Kentucky wasted no time in following, and no sooner had the two cleared the chamber than the mech has smashed into the wall. That final shock brought the crumbling building down, the fortified roofing on top slamming to the ground with enough force to throw up a blinding veil of snow. The two kept running until the snow drifted back to the ground, and as they turned back they could see plenty of collapsed rubble, but no mech to speak of.
"Huh. Well." Kentucky sniffed as he shifted his weight. "That went... surprisingly okay. Mission accomplished, I guess."
SAYS YOU! Rho, obviously, hadn't calmed down from the running yet.
"What I'd like to know is why the damn thing kept warning us with that god-awful music?" the female Freelancer asked, brushing off snow, dust and bits of instacrete off her armor.
[I believe the interns are what played a part of the project's downfall,] Lambda replied, [The chief scientist gave them full rein of how the mech would be constructed. However, it seems most of the interns were quote/unquote "otakus."]
"O-what now?"
[A commonly used term for anime fans, mostly "Robotech" and "Mobile Suit Gundam" to name a few. In their minds, constructing a giant robot was in their grasp and they let their over-active imaginations take over. A grave mistake on the researcher's part, I believe.]
Jersey then sighed, "Well, at least we got that taken care of." She radioed to the Pelican, "Four-Seven-Niner, this is Agent Jersey, if you're still out there, we need a pic-"
"GIGAAAA ARMORED IMPAAAAAAAACT!"
The agents jumped at the sudden cry, and from the wreckage of the building a few large chunks of debris were sent flying through the air. None of them came close to the agents, but that was a comparatively small thing to worry about.
They were much more concerned about the mech now rising from the wreckage of the facility. "You're much too swift to reach conclusions." The pilot's voice droned over the intercom. "Honestly? Bases collapse all the time." Out in the open, with the clearing weather and the sunlight glaring off the now-upright machine, it was much easier to see the full design of it.
It stood tall, easily breaking twenty feet in height. The gunmetal-green surfaces of the giant had been scratched in places by the roof collapsing on it. That said, it looked to be more or less intact. The tank-cannon was slung over the right shoulder, with an odd, box-shaped device clung to the left-side of the back. A large vulcan-cannon hung from the left forearm, while the right hand was a gleaming metallic claw attached to an arm proportioned like a large crab-claw. The lower legs seemed to house a pair of large devices that looked like jet-engines.
Kentucky stared awestruck at the giant. "Well. This is... bad."
"...and this is where we hit the downward spiral," Jersey said deadpanned before both Freelancers immediately scrambled for cover behind a now-defunct Scorpion Tank.
Kent glanced down at his stock, but he already knew he hadn't brought anything strong enough. He let out a frustrated sigh. Never too many. Only too few. Some things never change.
"Shit, we need a plan to take this thing out! Lambda!" She barked.
[Ready to help!]
"Go over the schematics for that abortion against all things science and find a weak spot in that armor."
[Complying. I would recommend staying in cover in the meantime. Your shield cannot stand up to that much firepower again.]
Lambda began scanning when it turned to his brother, who was screaming hysterically as the "MAIN CAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNON!" fired at their now-dwindling cover, [Rho, get a hold of yourself! I need you to help me!]
A hint of urgency skirted on his usually calm demeanor, something that happened when the slightest hint of his host dying on the battlefield was possible.
OHGODOHGODOHGODOHG- Kent punched the side of his helmet. Quit it, I'm workin' here!... Alright, not seeing any particular weaknesses as far as structural goes... You might be able to soften that plating with sustained exposure to extreme heat. We got anything like that?
"Extreme heat?" Even with a vulcan cannon firing at the tank, Jersey racked her brain for a solution and remembered back when she was fighting Brutes in the Marines, zoning in on a special kind of grenade, "Wait! Kent, do you have any firebombs on you?! The napalm could melt through the metal no problem!"
"Normally, I'd say go for it, but out here? In this cold? I don't think it would last long enough!... Wait a minute..." Kentucky glanced over towards the base, the pipeline in plain line of sight. "I've got an idea." He took out a smoke grenade and taped it to the end of his spike grenade. "Follow me, I'll get you some cover. Rho, prepare a jump set to a sine-pattern compression rate."
"Please tell me this plan ends with us alive and most of our limbs intact." Jersey said deadpanned, "Otherwise, the good Dr. Cassidy would have another patient on her hands."
"Not if we pull this off right, it won't!" Kent dug through his satchel and handed Jersey an orange, glowing canister. "Now when I give the word, torch the bastard!"
Rho appeared, wringing his hands. Calculations are done, Kent. Now what?
The agent shot Jersey a manic glare. "Now we think of some inspiring last words!"
"If I die because of this, consider your ass haunted for all eternity." the Freelancer yelled over her radio, then she peeked over her cover at the mech before it fired another round from its hand cannon, "Son of a bitch!"
She held the glowing canister filled with deadly napalm, though she stared at it like it was going blow up any second. Then it dawned on her, "Wait, why do I have to carry this?!"
Kent paused for a moment and turned back towards Jersey. "Creep up on the big, dumb robot. Then when I say so, throw the bomb to make the people fall down."
Then, with another whining camera sound, Kent popped the smoke grenade and took off. He took on a bizarre, unnatural warping pattern, at times moving almost faster than the eye could trace, at others barely moving at all. Yet through it all, he kept the consistent stride of a full sprint. The distortion played hell on the mech's sensors and the hot, obscuring smoke wasn't helping, with most of the shots going completely wide and several targeting systems entering standby mode for recalibration after failing to track the target.
"I have a really bad feeling about this," was all she could say before she ordered Lambda to take all power from non-critical systems and put it into her shield enhancement, if things went wrong.
As best as she could, Jersey skirted around the mech using barrels and debris from their rampage into the facility. She managed to get behind without alerting it.
"What is he doing?" She said, peeking her head from over her cover.
Kent darted through the ruins of the facility, zipping about like a surreal, cracked-out cartoon character. "Whazzamatter, bigg'n? havin' trouble keeping up?" Kentucky let out a gale of manic laughter as the robot followed him, trudging along with earth-shaking strides. He sprinted to the pipeline and shimmied up the ladder on one of the smaller distributor pipes. "Well?" He turned to face the Robot. "Don't be a pansy! SHOOT ME!"
Uh, Kent? The distortion surrounding the green agent finally ebbed and faded away. Auxiliary's died.
"...Uh-oh."
The mech paused for a moment before the pilot addressed the agent. "Well. This is your plan? I must say I'm rather disappointed. Not very creative of you. A child would know not to shoot you. That's common sense." The metal figure reached out with its large clawed arm, ready to crush Kentucky beneath its grasp.
Well, shit.
The other Freelancer pulled out the firebomb and stared at it before the wheels began to turn in her head when she gazed at the thrusters on the back of the mech's legs. What if...?
Fuck it, Jersey. Just throw the damn thing.
With that thought, she pulled her prosthetic back and hurled the volatile bomb towards the giant's leg, leaving a hot orange streak in its flight. The grenade remained true to its mark and the orange explosive goo splattered everywhere upon impact. One of the thrusters exploded, causing the mech to topple over into the pipeline. The oil inside spewed out of the massive hole and onto the machine, with the fire spreading at an alarming rate.
"Oh hell," the female quipped, "that escalated faster than I thought."
The impact of the robot hitting the pipeline sent Kentucky falling down from the pipeline, the snow thankfully breaking his fall somewhat. The Boombringer managed to hobble away from the wreckage, barely outrunning the advancing wall of flames before getting clear of the rapidly growing pool of oil. He turned back to look at the machine, and saw that it was having trouble getting up thanks to the slick mixture of snow and oil beneath its feet. It started to spark and sputter as the flames coating it belched out filthy black smoke.
"Get clear! Get clear! It's gonna start cooking off at this rate!" Kent screamed into his radio.
Jersey ran like hell out of the blast. She didn't even have time to look back when she saw the blinding flash and almost lost her balance when she felt the shockwave a second later. The blast knocked on her ass just as a series of explosions bombarded the facility as it went up in flames.
It was like the world moved forward a few feet.
When Jersey finally got her bearings, she saw the facility in shambles, small fires and instacrete debris covered Ground Zero. The mech had torn itself apart in the fire while a huge chunk of the giant machine had lodged itself in the destroyed pipeline.
"KENT!" She yelled over the radio, "Kent, where the hell are you?!"
For a moment, the only response she heard over the radio was mindless static. Then a familiar demented chuckle piped through the communications. "DID YOU SEE THAT? DID YOU FRIGGING SEE IT!? My god, I think I've outdone myself this time. HA! I'VE NEVER FELT MORE ALIVE!" Jersey could tell from the jittery tint to his voice that Kent was probably shaking.
Agent New Jersey! Thank Alpha. Get over here, get him out of here! I don't think he's quite noticed his state yet. Rho was obviously more than a little concerned.
Kentucky just scoffed at the notion. "I can read the bio-com. Five ribs broken, sprained an ankle, left radius fractured. But you NEVER let pain go before art little man, NEVER!"
She let out an exasperated sigh and answered, "Roger that, heading towards your location."
After Lambda set a waypoint, Jersey urgently sprinted through the wreckage, ignoring fires and avoiding oil slicks to find Kent lying in the snow, giggling like an insane schoolgirl.
"Are you fucking crazy?! You could've killed yourself with that stunt!" She said, picking him up and slinging his arm over her shoulder, "Still, mission successful I'd say."
"Damn straight!" Kent snickered again, and the duo began trudging to the exfiltration point. "Hey, if I edit the actual mission out, think I could put the helmet cam footage on the intranet? That was too awesome to not be saved forever."
[Protocol dictates that all audio and video missions logs are to be classified, Agent Kentucky.] Lambda commented, [I doubt the Director will you let you do so.]
"Still, it was a blast," Jersey said, immediately kicking herself for making an unintentional pun.
Kent laughed probably a little too hard for such a simple joke. Then again, to him far too many people under-appreciate the comedic value of the humble pun. "Hehehe... Yeah. Sure was."
The two strode off towards the approaching Pelican, alive if not well. All was right for just another day at Project Freelancer.
. . . it had been a good long while. The flames had probably died out by now. A cold, impartial voice spoke into the all-encompassing darkness. "Computer: Assess environment."
A digital voice, now deprived of music and enthusiasm during the interim replied. "Probability of survivable exit at present: 89%."
Probably the best it'll ever be.
He hit the releases on the cockpit, and was suddenly very glad he'd installed the double-redundant plating on it. The rest of his design had been blown clean apart. "Hm. A pity." The figure stepped out of the former cockpit, and looked around at the crumbled ruins of the base.
The bloodied figure limped away, his bloodstained lab-coat flapping in the breeze as he did so. "... I do believe some improvements are in order." He stopped at a particular piece of debris from the mech. "Yes. Not nearly sturdy enough." He passed the part and activated his emergency distress beacon. "So. improvements first... Reparation later.