(A/N) Wow, guys, I am so sorry it took me so long to get these chapters out. I just had to get my little steampunk AU off the ground and then the holidays got super busy at the bookstore. Now all that madness is done, though, I should definitely be able to dedicate a more reasonable amount of time to my stories.

So…y'know what's really hard about writing RvB fic? Actually writing the Red and Blue characters. This is the first real opportunity I've had to stretch my writing wings when it comes to the BGC, so hopefully I didn't do too bad on that. We'll just have to see what y'all think.

When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)

Chapter 3: To Break it Back Down

Even though Wash did understand Carolina's concerns for his health after he'd been dead for two minutes, if she was going to insist on treating him like an invalid, he might just have to remind her that he was, in fact, a bad ass space marine. Except for the lingering question of how one went about proving themselves to their warrior princess of an older sister and her psycho doctor friend; there was that tiny issue.

Wash was ready to get back into armor, but Dr. Grey insisted that he stay off his feet for an additional twenty-four hours so she could monitor him, just to be certain he wasn't still at risk from the akaythius poisoning. As such, it meant she was requiring him to have a serious discussion with the rest of the group in nothing but his boxers and a T-shirt. He'd been about ready to fight her on this, but had been doubly threatened by her and Carolina. Carolina with the revealing of the story about the cat in the shoebox and Emily with her own special cocktail of drugs that would knock out his motor functions for the requisite twenty-four hours. It was bad enough the Reds and the Blues were going to be finding out that Carolina used to change his diapers. They didn't need the complete escapades of David L. Church on top of that. All of this, of course, brought them to the present moment, with Wash sitting in his cot in Emily's infirmary, surrounded on all sides by their odd little family, including Emily and Kimball. While everyone had their helmets off, it didn't help the situation overly much. Carolina was standing against the wall next to Wash's cot and she was the one to finally speak.

"So I guess by now Tucker's spread the word to all of you."

"Yeah. Return of the scariest fucking mute in the galaxy. The Meta 2. Seriously, can we never catch a break?" Simmons lamented, sounding like he might actually cry. "We just survived the mercenaries from hell. Now we have to do this all over again. Why can't this guy just stay dead?"

"You finished?" Wash asked, raising an eyebrow at the maroon soldier.

"No. No, we're not, actually," Grif started. "Some of us were thinking we might actually get to take a break after saving an entire fucking planet. Now we get to deal with this? What does the guy want this time? Guess we are up to our ears in A.I. fragments at the moment."

"Grif!" Carolina snapped.

"What? Church snaps himself into a million pieces and suddenly I'm supposed to be nice to him? Fuck that noise."

"Yeah, you can just shut up about that one," Tucker said with a glare.

Grif shot back a glare of his own. "What are you complaining about? You're the entire reason it happened. And you got yourself a shiny new suit out of the deal."

"Grif," Simmons started in shock.

Tucker turned to face the orange-clad soldier head on, glaring fit to kill. "Say that again, man. I fucking dare you. You'll find out just how shiny this suit is."

"Would you all kindly shut the hell up?" Wash snarled at them. He might've gotten up from the cot were it not for Carolina's hand on his shoulder, holding him down. "I get that it's been a rough few years, and I get that we're all hurting right now, but is it really such a tremendous undertaking for me to ask my own goddamn friends to help me save someone I love? It's not the Meta we're talking about here. It's Maine."

"Maybe wanna clue us in on what the difference is there, son?" Sarge suggested.

Wash sighed heavily at this. Maybe it would've been better if he'd explained everything before, but he wouldn't have known how. Trying to remember the good times with Maine had always been too painful, but…now that he had a chance to get that back…

"That creature we fought…what you guys knew as the Meta…did you ever once hear me refer to it as Maine?" Wash asked them, near daring them to say otherwise with his stern gaze.

"Well…no. I guess not," Donut was the one to finally answer.

"That's because that thing wasn't Maine. As far as I knew, Maine had died during the Break-in. The Meta was just using what was left of him. I never talked about Maine because I didn't want to confuse the issue for anyone. The Meta was our enemy. Maine was…he's…"

"Oh, don't worry, Wash. Tucker told us all about the Maine-chicka-Wash-Wash," Caboose said with a dopey smile. "I think you and Big Kitty would've been really sweet."

"Uh…did you just refer to the Meta as a kitten?" Tucker asked his younger teammate.

"Si ese hijo de puta es un gatito, soy un elefante enano con las alas rosadas," Lopez put in.

Whatever else they might have said, Wash and Carolina didn't quite catch it. At Caboose's words, they looked to each other with mild confusion in their eyes, both just staring before their faces finally cracked into matching grins. He probably had no idea, but the younger blue's words had helped to ease things, even if only a little bit. Struggling not to chuckle, the freelancer siblings turned back to their teammates, amused by just how true Caboose's out there statements had been.

"I…probably wouldn't have used those exact words, but yes. Maine and I were a couple."

"Lovey dovey space marines, I get that part. What I don't get is how you know it really is him. I mean, we all saw him die," Grif pointed out. "Some of us a little more up close and personal than others."

"I know because I saw him last night," Wash said firmly. "Carolina did, too. The A.I. confirmed it. It was him."

"If I may," Doc started, raising a hand. "What exactly happened last night? So far we've just gotten a jumbled picture of you almost dying and that Maine and some A.I. and other freelancers were involved. A little clarification would be nice."

"Basically…I went for a walk last night and Maine came to the base to try and see me. But then he got it into his head that he was putting me in danger somehow."

"Not entirely untrue," Emily pointed out.

"Anyway, he tried to go back to the jungle, but I'd already seen him. I went after him. We had…a few moments before Gin and Mitch attacked us."

"And they are…?" Simmons pressed.

"Agents Virginia and Michigan," Carolina took up the explanation. "It looks like they're working for someone here on Chorus. We'd thought Gin was in prison all this time and Mitch…she really should be dead."

"Why's that?" Sarge asked.

"Mitch was badly injured during one of our missions back in the day. She took a massive shock to her neural implants and the circuitry got fried. The neural pathways were damaged beyond repair. She was basically brain dead," Wash offered, only just then thinking of how close he must've come to a similar fate when Locus had shot him. "It would've been better for them to just let her die, but Gin wouldn't allow it."

"Allow it? What? Was she his girlfriend or something?" Grif asked.

"No. God, no," Carolina said with a slight shudder. "They grew up together. They were more like siblings. Whatever it was, Gin had the power to decide, and he wasn't willing to let her go. Until last night, I hadn't seen either of them since the Break-in."

"So…if this Mitch is supposed to be brain dead, how is it she attacked you?" Simmons asked.

"Maybe she's a zombie…or a clone. Oh, my God. She's a clone zombie!" Caboose proclaimed, eyes widening in amazement. The rest of the group just rolled their eyes in fond exasperation.

"Yes, Caboose. She's a clone zombie," Tucker said placatingly.

"I knew it."

"Hey, zombie might not be too far off the mark, for all these freelancers don't wanna fucking stay dead," Grif put in.

"They're not zombies," Wash said with a long-suffering sigh. "Mitch's body was being controlled by an A.I."

Following this, there was a long moment of silence, which was only broken when Tucker finally continued with, "Yeah. Cuz that sounds way less totally fucking impossible than clone zombies."

"There's more than one clone zombie?" Caboose asked, suddenly looking fearful.

"Oh, boy," Wash sighed, briefly burying his face in his hands. He knew his friends could be capable soldiers when they really wanted to be, but sometimes…just…oh, boy.

"Mm, yes, impossible," Carolina picked up the slack. "Because none of you have ever seen an A.I. take control of someone. Never. Not once. Clearly we've been reading too much science fiction."

"Yeah, but this is a little different than all those other times. There was actually a person still present to take control of," Simmons pointed out. "Can an A.I. really just take full control without a human mind being present?"

"If last night is anything to go by, I'm going to go with yes," Carolina said.

"It's really not at all outside the realm of possibility," Emily started in. "If the neural pathways could be repaired enough to accept a new cognitive model, an artificial intelligence could easily move in and just…wear the human being like a suit," she said with her usual chipper smile, mindless of the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Carolina raised an eyebrow, an odd half smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Since when did you become an expert in cognitive impression modeling theory?"

"Last night."

The former freelancer shook her head. "Of course. Don't know why I even asked."

"So who was the A.I. controlling your friend?" Doc asked. "Anyone we know?"

"Ah…not exactly. None of Epsilon's fragments recognized him, but…he claimed to be one of the Freelancer A.I.s, and considering his effect on the collective, we're pretty sure he was telling the truth."

"And…what effect was that?" Simmons asked.

"I couldn't tell you exactly what happened. Something like it happened back during the project. This one…he reached out to them…and whatever he did, they were all in agony," Carolina whispered, the memory of it still sharp in her mind – the pain of each fragment raw and scraping over every nerve – and at that, she realized it still must have been only a fraction of what Wash had suffered with Epsilon. "This A.I. …he identified himself as Omicron…and I don't know how, but he's definitely one of Project Freelancer's A.I."

"But…weren't all the A.I. destroyed? Y'know, when you took out Freelancer command?" Donut asked Wash.

Wash winced at this. While he hadn't been conscious for it, Carolina had told him what all she'd seen last night and…well…apparently they just needed to stop assuming people were dead. "That was the popular theory, yes, but there was one other A.I. present last night that…sharply calls that fact into question."

"And that was…?" Doc pressed, moving his hands in a circle to urge Wash to continue.

"Sigma," Carolina answered. "Sigma was there, too."

"Sigma? The one who fucking started the Meta? Jesus Christ, Wash, have you ever actually managed to kill anything?" Tucker griped at the former freelancer.

"I wiped the complex with an EMP. That should have worked," Wash ground out. "I have no idea why Sigma's not dead."

"So the Meta is still alive," Sarge pointed out.

"Not necessarily," Carolina stepped in again. "Sigma's the only one we can say for sure isn't destroyed. Omicron was never part of the Meta. Until we know more, all we can do is assume that only Sigma's still around. I'd like to say that if it's just him alone, he's not as much of a threat, but I think we all know that's not true," she said, glancing uncertainly at her brother.

"Who was he paired with then? Virginia?" Doc asked, voice suddenly slipping more into the Omega tone. "Is that agent likely to succumb to Sigma's wiles?"

"No. It wasn't Gin. There was one other freelancer there last night. Sigma was with her…and she was the one who poisoned Wash. Agent Kansas. She definitely won't succumb to Sigma…but there's also no guarantee she's perfectly sane."

"Is there even any such thing as a sane freelancer?" Grif questioned, and there was another long stretch of silence before Wash offered up a response.

"Touche. But you should know that Kansas is a little bit worse than your run of the mill nut job, and she always had this really bizarre fixation with Maine and I. I don't know how yet, but I'd say it's all got to be connected somehow."

"But who are these agents working for?" Kimball finally spoke up. "It couldn't have been the Federal Army or the New Republic and we took out Charon. Who else is left?"

Carolina and Wash looked to each other at this question. They were finally about to broach the subject of their most closely guarded secret. More than likely after this moment, everything would be different.

"We do have a theory on that," Wash said when the pair looked back to their friends. "Before Kansas knocked me out, she and Gin were saying something about Dr. Gwendolyn Dorokhov being on Chorus. She was a geneticist with Project Freelancer."

"Hold up. You're talking about the Gwendolyn Dorokhov?" Emily suddenly interrupted. "As in the Dorokhov Principle for Flash Mitosis? Dorokhov's Laws of Cloning?"

"That's the one," Wash said. It was almost surreal to hear someone speak about his aunt in reference to her actual profession. He sometimes forgot how the rest of the galaxy saw his Aunt Gwen.

"And you mean to say she's here? On Chorus?" the doctor pressed, sounding even more excited.

"Looks that way. We don't know why. Neither of us has had any contact with her since the Break-in. Guess that makes us a pretty bad niece and nephew," Wash said as he looked to his sister again, trying to be casual about what he was saying.

"Well, for differing periods during all that time, we've been in psych wards, prisons, in hiding, and dead. I can see where she wouldn't have expected to hear from us," Carolina responded.

"Wait a second. You two have the same aunt?" Tucker was the one to ask, finally putting together just what Carolina had said.

"Yes," Wash said.

"But…then…that means…" Simmons started.

"No," Grif said slowly. "No way."

"Wait for it," Carolina said, resting a hand on her brother's shoulder yet again.

Caboose pointed and began to clap excitedly. "You two are totally cousins! Maybe even twin cousins!"

Both siblings immediately felt the tension in their shoulders break. "Uh…no. Not really, no. A little warmer there, though. Keep trying," Wash encouraged.

"Well…if you're not cousins, and you have the same aunt, that means that you share at least one parent…and that means…oh, my God," Donut said, working his way through the not so complex equation.

"Sweet Sam Hill, the two of you are brother and sister," Sarge was the one to finally say it out loud. "Meh, I saw that comin' like a year ago."

"Wait…seriously?" Carolina asked.

"Nope," the older man said as he crossed his arms, leaning back against the far wall. "But it sounded awesome to say it, just the same."

"Madre de Dios, esto se supone que es una comedia de ciencia ficción. Cuándo nos convertimos drama diurno?" Lopez almost seemed to grumble.

"Any particular reason why you guys didn't feel the need to mention that one to us?" Tucker asked with a mildly horrified expression. "I am now feeling majorly dirty about some of the things I thought about the last two freelancers. Like…we're talking Star Wars dirty here. Seriously, why keep a lid on that one?"

"Force of habit from the Freelancer days, I guess," Wash said with a shrug. "We didn't talk about it a lot back then and we just kept not talking about it."

"But why?" Simmons pressed. "Was there something wrong with people knowing you guys were siblings? They knew the Dakotas were siblings. What's different about the two of you?"

"It was just…better not to call attention to that fact," Carolina said, gaze drifting down to where her hand rested on Wash's shoulder.

"There's one other thing about us you guys don't know, and it's pretty much the reason for everything," Wash said, feeling his voice become heavy in his throat. "We're not half siblings. We share the same parents, but in this case, the parent in question is our father. Our father…was Dr. Leonard Church, the director of Project Freelancer."

This time, the ensuing silence was broken by Donut, who started to hum the Imperial March.

"Goddammit, this shit is just getting more Star Wars by the minute," Tucker chimed in.

"Terminado. Cien por ciento terminado," Lopez put in.

"Uh…you guys didn't know that?" Caboose asked, glancing around at all the others.

"Blue…are you tryin' to say you actually knew the Director was their old man?" Sarge asked as all eyes in the room moved to the youngest sim trooper.

"Well, I mean, yeah, duh. You guys don't see it? Come on!" Caboose said, gesturing his hands emphatically toward the freelancer siblings. "Wash is Church."

"Are you kidding me? I always thought you just couldn't keep the two of them straight. There's no way you actually knew that," Tucker said, gaze darting between Wash and Caboose.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely convinced that's not the case," Wash said, staring uncertainly at the younger man. It had unnerved him when the simple trooper had at first insisted on calling him by his last name. Caboose had been so insistent that he was Church and for a long while, Wash had convinced himself that it was Caboose's inability to deal with Epsilon's loss that had lead him to do it. After all, there was no way the sim trooper could possibly know who he really was – was there?

"No, really," Caboose tried to argue, shaking his head and briefly clapping his hands over his ears. "It was there all the time. The scary lady said so."

"Scary lady?" Tucker asked. "Are you talking about Carolina?"

"Or about Tex?" Simmons continued.

"Noo," Caboose whined, crossing his arms and pouting as he turned away from them. "The friend lady. She was my best friend first and she told me all about Church so that we would be best friends. But then she…sorta…I…I was…" As his voice trailed off into nothing, a look of sheer horror spread across the younger blue's face. For a moment, his lower lip trembled, as if he were going to burst into tears. But then, just as suddenly, his face lit up and he smiled at them. "So when are we going to find the friends?"

"Aaaand we've lost him," Tucker said.

"Hold up a sec. Caboose…what was all that?" Wash asked him, moving to get up, but just as quickly held down by his sister.

"Very interesting is what it was," Emily put in, eyeing Caboose up and down. "I never got a response like that during our sessions. Perhaps we triggered something?"

"Don't bother, you guys. You're not gonna get sense out of him," Tucker reminded them. "Pretty sure if what Caboose said actually made sense, we just might understand the mysteries of the universe."

"Hold on," Simmons suddenly interrupted. "If the Director was your dad…you were going to kill your own father?"

Grif rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cuz this group has historically had such great parental relationships."

Wash could feel Carolina's brief spike of anger through her grip on him. He didn't need to look up at her to see the emotion he knew was in her eyes.

"After what he did to my brother, his own son…to all of us…of course I was going to kill him. I was going to make him pay…but I found out I didn't need to. There was nothing we could've done that would make him suffer worse than he already had."

"What's done is done," Wash added quietly, reaching his own hand up to lay it on Carolina's. "The Director is past…but Maine is now. I don't want to believe our aunt is involved in this. The Gwen we knew would never keep Maine prisoner against his will, but it's been a long time since we've seen her, and I'm afraid she really might be involved somehow. I know I have no right to ask this of you guys. It's my burden, but…Grif…if you thought Simmons was dead for a long time…and you suddenly found out he'd been alive and imprisoned all that time…what would you do?"

At this, Grif closed his eyes and sighed. After several moments, he opened them again, shaking his head. "Aw, who the fuck am I kidding? Of course we're with you. But just in case anybody's curious, I'm keeping the Grif shot. Your boyfriend can't have it back."

"Yeah, good luck with that, man," Simmons said with a snicker.

Wash couldn't quite help the smile that worked its way across his face as his gaze moved from the Reds and Blues up to his sister, who was also smiling faintly. Really, he should've known they wouldn't hold any of it against them. Despite their oddness as soldiers, they'd proven time and time again that they were good guys. There was no way they'd leave a man behind.

"Don't worry," Carolina said quietly, just to him. "We'll get him back."

Hold on, Matt. Just hold on a little longer. I'll find you. I won't let you down this time.

XxX

Ben Walker yawned as he moved onto the bridge of his ship, Lilith. He hadn't had much of a rest during the night cycle, but when you were a fugitive from the law, you tended to take what you could get.

"How are we looking?" he asked the pilot as he came up behind her.

Dee Carson's ginger hair was pulled back into a single braid, but several strands were coming loose from it and there were large dark circles under her eyes. Even so, there was still an exuberant smile on her face. She was in her element behind the controls of a ship. Unfortunately, this lead to her not getting a lot of sleep, as she preferred not to relinquish the helm to anyone else, but so long as she wasn't falling asleep at the wheel, Ben was content to let her fly. Plus, she had the help of her AI, an unassuming aqua-colored construct named Phi whose preferred shape was a young man in a wheelchair.

"Smooth sailing, CO. Charon's jammers are completely down and I've had zero interference from the tractor beam. Looks like dear old Chairman is really down for the count. We should be touching down on Chorus just in time for breakfast if you wanna start waking the others up."

Ben chuckled quietly as he sat down next to Dee and Phi. "Is there any point in asking you to drop the CO thing? I haven't been Agent Colorado in a long time. Haven't been anyone's commanding officer in even longer."

"No point at all," the pilot said in a chipper tone. "Doesn't matter where we end up, Benton. You'll always be our CO. Even Carolina said so."

Like himself, Dee hadn't been an agent of Project Freelancer in many years, but her nickname could serve as shorthand for either her actual name, Diana, or her code name, Indiana. She had the luxury of not having to pick and choose.

"Think any of the others still use the old agent names?" she asked him as she prepped the ship for reentry.

"Gwen almost never does, of course. Kansas always seemed to prefer the codename and I suppose Gin and Jim are similar enough it doesn't matter for him. Maine, I think, is just used to living under a codename – first with SPARTAN, then with Freelancer. I know Delaware won't go by anything else and I'm pretty sure Wash and Carolina have beef with their proper names, so it suits them better to use the codenames. All told, it seems most of us have things we'd rather keep hidden," the old soldier commented as he watched Chorus grow larger in the forward view port.

"And…do you think they're really still down there? Even after all this time?" Dee asked, stealing a quick glance at him.

"I have no doubt. With everything Gwen and Thea have done, I'm sad to say the genocide of an entire planet must seem like nothing to them. Thea doesn't care and Gwen, well…she's probably rationalized it to herself a hundred times over by now," Ben said sadly. Sometimes he really thought he might break down and cry if he thought too long on just how far Gwen Dorokhov had fallen from the caring woman he'd once known.

"And I don't suppose it's at all dangerous to go after them now. Y'know, what with the UNSC just a few hours behind us and all," the pilot said with a good-natured roll of her eyes.

Ben just chuckled at his younger friend's levity. "Dee, I wash my hands of it. You all knew how dangerous this would be. You had the chance to get off back at Isis. Me, I'm in this thing until the end."

"Heh, you know we'd never leave you, CO. Be a pretty odd time for it, given the other shit storms we've lived through. But I am in so far in blood that sin will pluck on sin…or whatever Shakespeare shit Gin would've said."

"Are we sure we want to be talking about blood when we could potentially be heading into a dangerous battle?" Phi asked nervously, crimson light briefly coloring his aqua form. "I don't know that this is a situation William Shakespeare could've ever imagined."

Ben couldn't quite help chuckling at Dee and Phi's words. Unfortunately, the chuckling was just a little too much when taken together with the lack of sleep and the harsh forces of reentry on his body. Slumping in his chair, the former freelancer began to cough.

"You okay?" Dee asked when the coughing stretched beyond a minute, immediately turning her attention to him.

"Ben, are you all right?" the voice of his own AI, Lambda, suddenly sounded in his head as she came online, her peach-colored figure shimmering into being beside his head. "You haven't had enough sleep. What are you doing up?"

"Fine. I'm fine," he lied, waving them off once the fit had passed. "The old ticker's still going. I just need to get back into armor. You should probably do the same once we've touched down, Dee."

Dee gave him a very pointed look that plainly told him she knew he was lying through his teeth, but she chose not to comment on it. After all, they all knew just how bad off he was. What need was there to discuss it? They knew what he'd come here to do.

"Think the others are up yet?" the pilot asked instead, turning her full attention back to guiding Lilith through reentry.

"Meg's up already. I saw her in the kitchen on my way up. It's the other two I'm not sure about. Jonah could sleep through a hurricane, after all, and if he's not up, Elsie won't have any reason to be. So really, it all depends on him," Ben said with a faint smile.

Sighing fondly as she rolled her eyes, Dee sent a direct communication line to the bunk the former Agents Nebraska and Missouri shared. "You two had better hang on down there. I won't be held responsible if you break your necks during a routine reentry. If you have anything to say, you can come say it in person once we're planet side," she said, smirking to herself as she cut the link, disengaging it just as quickly as she'd engaged it to begin with.

"Elsie won't let that sit, you know. Especially if they were in the middle of something," Ben reminded her.

"Oh, I know. Can't help it, I guess. Jonah's a fucking easy mark and Elsie's like the little sister I never wanted. I've always got to put my two cents in with the two of them. They'll probably need another good talking to before we're neck deep in shit creek all over again. Don't tell me you're gonna start taking my fun away, too," the pilot whined.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ben said with an easy shake of his head.

Hell knows you'll need as many chances for fun as you can get before we go head to head with Thea again.

You really ought to get some more rest, Ben, Lambda told him privately, her tones laced with concern. Dee has things taken care of. Maybe you could sleep a little longer.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn't sleep, Lamb. We're running short on time here. I'll sleep when…when it's over, he told her, as much as he knew it pained her, because if anyone knew the words he hadn't let form, Lambda did. She was going to stick by him until the bitter end, no matter how much of a stubborn old fool he was. They were all going to stick by him, and even if he never said it, he appreciated it. He appreciated the little family they'd formed from the ashes of Project Freelancer. He could only hope Leonard's kids had been as lucky.

XxX

Not for the first time in the intervening twenty-four hours, Locus found himself wondering if he really had recovered from the alcohol poisoning.

Everything seemed to be happening in a daze. He'd gotten back into armor and helped Gwen transport Felix's body to her compound. She'd explained to him that he probably wouldn't want to watch what she had to do next, but he hadn't wanted to leave, so he'd watched her laser open his partner's skull and remove his brain. Then she'd loaded the dead organ into a machine and she'd been running the CIM scans on it for the last half hour.

"How exactly is this different from what the director of Project Freelancer attempted to do?" the former mercenary found himself asking as he watched the geneticist go about her work.

"The chief tenet of cognitive impression modeling is that the human brain being used for the base remain just that – a base. A foundation for the artificial intelligence to build upon," the doctor began to explain as she ran a series of numbers through her computer. "The resulting consciousness will be very similar to its progenitor, but never will it be an exact match for that human mind. And that's the point. It removes the possibility of existential dilemma for the AI, allowing it to function as it's meant to…as a computer program. This was what Leonard was attempting to overcome in his quest to bring back my sister."

"So you've figured out a way around that?" Locus pressed.

"Just so. You see, as a geneticist, there are certain aspects of the human brain I have access to that Leonard never did. The thin of it being that I can cultivate an exact copy of Felix's mind, instead of a mind simply modeled after his."

"And this is preferable to simply…cloning him?" Locus asked, gaze lingering on the scanner that contained his partner's brain.

"It is. Apart from it being slightly less than legal, the trouble with simply cloning a human subject is that you can't recreate the human experiences. The clone would be subject to its own lived experiences. This is why I put all of my efforts into creating clone bodies without higher brain function. The AI consciousness will simply be inserted into the clone brain and it will be as if the person had never died. If you want back the man you lost, Locus, this is the only way to do it," she said as she looked up from the console. "I can do this for you. I just want you to be certain it's what you want."

When Gwen reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder, it was like they were back in the safe house, with him out of armor and vulnerable. With Gwen Dorokhov, it felt almost like she could see through him – like the armor wasn't there at all. After what he'd been through with Felix, he almost thought he should feel manipulated by this, but in the short time he'd known this woman, he'd felt a strange sort of sincerity from her. Maybe he was being a complete moron about this, but he couldn't quite help trusting her.

"I want this. This is what I want," he repeated, more for himself than for her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew something felt off about this whole situation, but he was perfectly willing to ignore that something because he knew he couldn't live like this. He needed Felix back. "How long will it take?"

"The cloning process will take roughly a month to complete, but the modeling should be finished in about twenty-four hours. Just in time for you to perform your first assignment."

"And what is that?"

"Not anything you're unfamiliar with," a new voice announced as its owner entered the lab. Locus looked up to see a soldier in gray and blue armor, flanked by two other soldiers, one in gray and red and the other in brown and red. "We'll just be bringing down the latest UNSC frigate to hit our atmosphere."

Locus glanced briefly between the three soldiers and Gwen, features forming into a scowl beneath his visor. "I was under the impression these tasks wouldn't involve murder."

"Relax, grasshopper. We've got no need to kill anyone. We just need to convince them not to report back to the UNSC for a month," the first soldier said as he came toward him, reaching out to pound him on the shoulder. Before he could make contact, though, Locus snatched his wrist, stopping the motion mid-air.

"I did not give you permission to touch me," he snapped at the soldier.

The former mercenary was used to reactions of fear from his fellow pirates. He might've even expected anger or indignance. What he didn't expect was the breathy chuckle he got.

"We gonna dance, big boy? I might be a little rusty, but I'm always up for a few practice rounds," he said, and even though Locus couldn't see his face, he could practically feel the smirk that must've been twisting the other man's lips. Almost before he was aware of what was happening, the gray and blue soldier was spinning out of his grip, coming to a stop a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest and his hip jutted casually out to the side.

"A little consideration wouldn't go amiss, Gin," Gwen warned the soldier. "Locus has been through a lot these past few weeks."

"Guess our new friend's wet behind the ears in more ways than one," one of the other soldiers, the one in brown and red, suggested, his voice having the sound of someone older.

"Locus, I'd like you to meet Gin, Mitch, and Del," Gwen introduced each of the soldiers. "All former agents of Project Freelancer. They'll be your comrades in the coming weeks."

"Agent Virginia. Agent Michigan. Agent Delaware," Locus said slowly as he looked to each of them, the images and names from the captured files gradually coalescing in his mind. "Are there any other remnants lurking around that I should know about?"

"Just Kansas, but you'll meet her later. She's not joining us on this one," Gin explained.

"Why not?"

"Gwen put her in time out. She just about killed Wash and Carolina a few nights back, so she's on lockdown," the gray and blue armored agent continued. "Normally she's in the lead for this sort of thing, but she just couldn't leave well enough alone."

"Just might be the reason our good doc saw fit to bring you onboard," Del added with a shrug and a chuckle.

"Well, I don't know how you get through life, Del, but I for one think it better to avoid unnecessary death," Gwen said. "I think the decisions Locus has made are very admirable, and unless I'm much mistaken, you all have a flight to catch."

"Right you are, boss. Don't worry, grasshopper, you won't have to do much. Just stand in place and look intimidating. I'm pretty sure you can handle that," Gin started to explain as he led his new team from the lab.

Once the soldiers had gone, Price entered from a hidden observation area.

"How does he seem to you?" Gwen asked the former counselor without looking back at him.

"He seems…certain. And with a man like Lucas Amidah, that is almost more dangerous. While he has kept a narrow focus in the past he has been uncertain of himself before now. I cannot say that I would trust to his continuing stability…especially if your efforts should come up short."

"They won't. The process will work. I've seen it work," the doctor said firmly as she turned a frosty gaze to her former colleague.

"Yes…in separate stages, but Felix will be your first attempt to combine each process into a single coherent individual," he reminded her sharply.

"Your lack of faith notwithstanding, you have other purposes to serve here, Aiden. Would you say I can count on the boy's loyalty? At least until the process is complete?"

"You won't have to worry about that. Lord knows what you did during your first encounter, but Locus seems to have latched onto you…perhaps even in the capacity of a mother figure," Price said, briefly glancing at the modeling in progress.

"A little human decency goes a long way, Aiden. Heaven knows that boy could do with a mother figure after everything he's been through. I failed my own family one time too many. I have no intention of failing Lucas. I just need to be sure he'll stick with us until the end," she said as she turned her focus back to her work.

"As I said, you've nothing to fear there. He won't turn on you. I just don't know that he'll remain mentally stable, and that could go wrong for either us or the simulation troopers," Price warned her.

"Then we'll just have to do our best to keep him stable, now won't we," she said, once again half ignoring him.

"Do you plan to tell him you have Agent Maine here?" he asked her all of a sudden.

"It hasn't come up yet. Is there a terribly compelling reason I shouldn't?" she asked, idly pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose while she typed with one hand.

"Only that you should be aware. Locus has a…particular interest in Agent Maine and the Meta. I would advise controlling the manner in which he learns this information."

"As you will, but I have no intention of lying to him."

"Really? Because it seems to me you may have lied to Agent Virginia," the former counselor couldn't quite help pointing out.

Pausing in her work, Gwen looked up from her computer, staring at nothing in particular for several moments before answering.

"I haven't lied. I've done my best for Mitch. If he chooses to invest more hope in what I have said than can reasonably be inferred, that's hardly my fault."

"And yet you still find yourself in need of his services…or perhaps simply his presence," Price suggested. "What does it say about you, I wonder, that the only way you can hold onto human companionship is through half-truths?"

Once again, Gwen's expression hardened as her gaze zeroed in on him. "When I want a psychological profile, I'll ask for it. You would do well to remember I'm in a perfect position to hand you right back to the UNSC. I sincerely doubt you would be so lucky as to be happened upon by a pair of mercenaries working for a dirty politician a second time."

"Of course. Perhaps I was out of line. I apologize," the psychiatrist said, putting on a contrite front, but secretly pleased that he'd managed to get to the woman, even if it had only been in the smallest of ways. In his current position, he was willing to take whatever victories he could get.

XxX

The original plan when the UNSC arrived had been for the Reds and Blues to travel immediately to Earth, but with the new information about Maine, Kansas, and Gwen, Wash and Carolina knew they'd have to convince whoever showed up that they'd need to delay their return. And if they couldn't convince them, Wash had every intention of defying them. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to defying the UNSC; it was just this would all be much easier with them on his side. As such, he found himself on edge, even though he was grateful to finally be back in his armor.

The UNSC Breaking Light was currently in orbit around Chorus, having arrived earlier that morning. After Emily had cleared Wash, Kimball had had the Reds and Blues accompany her back to the comm tower, where the frigate was sending an advance party to meet with the Chorus leaders and ascertain just what sort of aid was needed.

The area surrounding the tower was still very much in chaos, with both Chorus and pirate dead still to be gathered up. They'd made a half-hearted attempt at locating Felix's remains, but they'd had no luck. None of them had really expected to find him or Locus. With any luck, the remaining mercenary was halfway across the galaxy by now. Most of the pirates who'd survived the battle were in custody, but there was a handful that remained free. Wash and Carolina would've been hunting them were it not for the strange events of the past few days. Now that would be left to the soldiers the Breaking Light dropped off.

They'd been awaiting the arrival of the frigate's advance ship for about half an hour when they caught sight of the small craft descending through the clouds. Wash thought he might've heard Grif grumbling about making them wait, but he really couldn't have cared less. If the orange-clad trooper needed to bitch in order to vent, then let him. The former freelancer's attention was focused completely on the UNSC ship as it docked beside the comm tower.

When the ship's ramp lowered, a cadre of soldiers trooped out in full gear. They were followed by a figure who was clearly their commanding officer – a soldier suited in dark green armor accented in white. The thing that really drew Wash's gaze, though, was the EVA helmet that topped the suit. There seemed to be entirely too many of those in his world recently. As if this wasn't strange enough on its own, when the soldier began to speak, Wash could have sworn there was something almost…familiar about her voice.

"I recognize most of you from the Freelancer reports," the woman started as she moved toward them through her troops. When she reached Kimball, she came to a stop. "So that would make you General Vanessa Kimball."

"Yes, Ma'am," Kimball said, offering her a salute. "You have no idea how grateful we are to finally see you."

"I'm Commander Roxana Hawthorne. The Breaking Light is under the command of Captain Jonathan Christopher. I have a team prepared to hunt for the remainder of Charon's thugs. I've also been instructed to assess your medical situation before further personnel are deployed."

Whatever Kimball's response was, Wash didn't hear it. The name Hawthorne had struck a chord in his memory. Hawthorne – Maine's name, Matt Hawthorne…and Roxana. She sounded so familiar. It couldn't possibly be – could it?

"Roxy?" he suddenly interrupted whatever conversation she and Kimball had been having. Commander Hawthorne turned her head sharply in his direction.

"Excuse me?" she started, clearly recognizing the old name.

"Roxy," he repeated, taking a step forward without even thinking. "It is you, isn't it. It's been so long."

"Who are you?" the commander asked, tilting her head uncertainly to the side.

"Roxy, it's me. It's David. David Church," he explained as he pulled his helmet off to let her see his face. "Remember? Matt's boyfriend?"

For several long moments, the commander made no response. She just continued to stare at him. When Wash was really starting to think he just might have overstepped his bounds, she reached up and removed her own helmet. The face beneath the green and white EVA helmet was not that of the fresh-faced young ensign he remembered, but he imagined that his face wasn't fully the one she remembered either. After all, it had been near fourteen years since they'd last seen each other. Even so, he still recognized the pale, sharp features of the little spitfire he'd known in the woman that stood before him. Her black hair had gotten longer in the intervening years and there were a few new scars added to her face, but her eyes were still the same. The intense amber eyes that she shared with her brother looked back at him in shock.

Almost before Wash realized what was happening, the commander was hugging him. Despite the armor, he managed to hug her back. He could see several of her men shifting in surprise, but they all seemed to respect their commander enough to keep silent about her outburst.

"Dammit, David. I thought you were dead!" she growled, the strength of her embrace nearly matching that of her supersoldier brother. Wash managed a small laugh as he pounded her on the back.

"For a while there, I may as well have been. Jesus Christ, Roxy, you don't know how good it is to see you."

"So…you two have met," Carolina's voice suddenly broke into the conversation. Wash could hear her smirk without needing to see it on her face.

"We might have," Wash said, offering his sister the same smirk before putting his helmet back on. "Guys, this is Roxy. She's one of Maine's little sisters."

"I'm sorry. Did you just say one of?" Grif asked.

"As in there's even more than two Metas running around?" Simmons asked, sounding more than a little panicked.

"Pretty sure we had the Meta conversation already," Wash started warningly

"There are two remaining Hawthorne sisters, to be exact," Roxy said, looking slightly confused as she tucked her own helmet under her arm.

"So…is this the one that's a clone zombie?" Caboose asked.

"Man, would you fucking forget about your clone zombies," Tucker snapped at his teammate.

"Uh, Tucker, they are not my clone zombies. Duh. They're the Freelancer zombies. You should learn to pay better attention."

"Is it bad that what he said almost made sense?" Sarge wondered aloud.

"Yes. Yes, Sarge. That's actually a very bad thing," Grif pointed out.

"I dunno if I'd jump the gun on that one. Maybe the world's a lot less complicated from where Michael J. Caboose sits," Simmons put in, and after a moment of silence, he finished with a revelatory, "And I suddenly understand John Elizabeth Andersmith's philosophy on life a thousand times better."

Roxy blinked several times in confusion, gaze shifting between the sim troopers and the Church siblings. "What was that I heard about heroes?" she asked Wash.

"It…can take them a while to get a good momentum going," Wash granted. "But they'll surprise you."

"Normally I'd make a joke about getting your momentum going," Tucker said to the commander. "But…I dunno. I've seen some shit, man."

"Appreciated," Roxy said, raising an eyebrow as she surveyed the aqua soldier, but her focus ultimately shifted back to Simmons. "What was that you said before? About there being more than two Metas?"

"Roxy," Wash started in before any of the others could say anything, realizing it might be his only chance to break things to her even semi-easily, "this is going to sound crazy, but Matt's not dead."

Roxy's expression hardened at this. She turned away from him and snapped her eyes shut, as if he'd physically struck her with his words. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he's alive. He's here on Chorus. I've seen him. Carolina and I both have. I don't know how. I don't know anything at this point. I just know we have to save him. You can't take us back to Earth yet," Wash pleaded with her. He didn't know if it was coincidence or destiny or whatever, but somehow the universe had sent him the one person who would listen without question – who would have just as great a stake in saving Maine's life as he did. There was no way he was going to let that go.

For several moments, the entire assemblage just stood in silence, waiting for Roxana Hawthorne to make a call. When she finally looked up again, she turned her attention to the soldier who stood at her right shoulder.

"Hammond, I want you to coordinate with General Kimball to get the hunt for the pirates going. Report to me once you have a search grid underway."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And the rest of you," she continued as she turned her gaze back to Wash, "I'm going to have to get you to the captain."

XxX

Dr. Grey would admit she'd been on edge ever since Carolina had brought Wash to her, but the arrival of the Breaking Light had managed to lighten the mood around her infirmary somewhat. She'd been looking forward to receiving some good news from Kimball on what kind of medical aid the UNSC was sending for them. What she got instead was a nightmare she'd believed she'd long ago woken up from.

It started when the door to her makeshift office suddenly slid shut and locked itself of its own accord. If there'd been any doubts in her mind as to what was happening, the lights suddenly flicked off, a series of pale blue emergency lights shuddering to life from the floor. For several moments, the doctor just stood in silence, waiting for something to happen.

That something finally came in the form of a child's voice singing an old lullaby – something from the distant past.

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be all right

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound

"I don't think it's meant to scare me," Emily said quietly, tone dropping into something more serious than her put-on chipper tone. "You know better than that…Dorothy."

A voice that matched her own in intensity came over the comm, laughing before answering. "It's been such a long time since anyone's called me that name."

"I know. I hear you go by Thea now. Any particular reason you decided to change it?"

"Well, you know just what sort of sordid past I needed to cover up. Even Project Freelancer couldn't turn a blind eye to some of my more colorful escapades."

"Dorothy, why did you even join Freelancer? You're not exactly the warrior type," Emily pointed out, resisting the urge to turn and look to the comm unit. Her real opponent was no doubt hundreds of miles away and it would be child's play for her to take control of the base's security systems from wherever she was.

"I joined because Maine did. You've read the files by now. You know who Agent Maine really is," Thea said, now with a layer of ice in her voice.

"I do," Emily responded, voice becoming quiet again as she moved toward her desk. "And you…you still blame him for-"

"For everything," Thea finished before she could. "I swore he would know what it felt like."

"Dorothy…please," Emily started, even though she didn't really believe this mad woman would hear her after all these years. "What happened wasn't Matt's fault. If you want someone to punish…punish me. This is my fault."

"I will punish you, Emily, but not more than I punish Matt Hawthorne. You might not have been able to do what I asked, but he was the start of it. I want him to know what I felt that day."

"What? Watching him die once wasn't enough for you?" Emily pressed as she sat at the desk.

"No. Really, it may never be enough, but that doesn't mean I won't keep trying," the former agent said, the sneer on her face quite plain to be heard in her voice.

"Why did you try to kill Wash?" the doctor asked after a moment of unsettled silence.

"I didn't, really. It was more of a calling card for you. After all, you knew it was me the moment he went into shock, didn't you."

"Yes," Emily conceded stiffly, remembering the unpleasant tremor of absolute terror that had gone down her spine…and the edge of hysteria she'd seen in Carolina's eyes that night…how she'd known with total certainty that if Wash died, Carolina wouldn't survive.

"I was confident you'd be fast enough to cure the strain this time…even though you've never been quite fast enough in the past," Thea said with an unsettling chuckle. "It also served to show Matt just how much control I have over events. Really, you should have heard the way he screamed when Wash stopped breathing. You can tell little David I said that, too. I'm sure he'd love to know how concerned his precious lover was for him. Though, on the subject of telling…have you told your friends about us yet?"

"I haven't. There hasn't exactly been a good moment to bring it up. In truth, I'm hoping they never have to find out."

Emily could just picture the woman who called herself Thea shaking her head as she spoke.

"No such luck there. They'll learn the truth sooner or later. I should think you'd rather tell them yourself…than to have them hear it from me. Then it just might seem like you were trying to hide something from them. That might not go over so well, especially with my fellow freelancers. I understand you have an interest in my old roommate."

Emily couldn't quite stop the glare that worked its way across her face. It wasn't that hard to figure out who Thea meant.

"Carolina has nothing to do with this. Leave her out of it."

"Mm, no. Afraid not. You brought her into it when you decided she was worth…psychoanalyzing."

"Dorothy," Emily growled warningly, and Thea actually laughed to hear the sound.

"Your friends must not know how adorable you are when you're angry, duckling. Well…who but Matt or I has seen you angry and afraid? Do you plan to let Carolina see all of you? If it makes you feel any better, I know for a fact that she's bisexual."

"What do you want me to do? What will it take for you to leave Carolina and Wash out of this?" Emily demanded, rubbing her temples in frustration.

"There's nothing you can do, Emily. Leonard Church's children are just as much a part of this as you and Matt. They've become the key to everything now. It's awfully convenient, isn't it. The two people I hate most in the galaxy end up falling for a pair of siblings, and those siblings just suffer so well. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to seeing it."

"I don't know what you think you can do. What with the UNSC finally showing up and all," Emily pointed out. "If anything, you should have made your move during the war."

"Oh, I'm not worried. In fact, I'd say the Breaking Light is about to have a few troubles of her own…right along with your friends."

"What have you done?" Emily asked, feeling a tremor of fear move down her spine at the exhilaration in the other woman's voice.

"It's not what I have done, duckling. It's what I'm about to do," Thea said, her voice cutting off just as the lights flickered back to life. Feeling panic begin to grip her, the doctor immediately set up an emergency line to Kimball.

"Doctor? What's happening back there? Why the urgency?" Kimball's voice came to her when she finally answered the call.

"Carolina and the others. Where are they?" Emily demanded.

"Flying back to the Breaking Light with Commander Hawthorne to discuss the situation with Captain Christopher."

"No! They can't! Vanessa, you have to stop them. Whatever it takes, you raise them and you tell them to get out. Get out now!"

XxX

Like the rest of his friends, Wash had been slightly unnerved by Roxy's plan to fly them up to the Breaking Light. His first thought had been that Captain Christopher could easily ignore what they had to say and just haul their asses back to Earth. Roxy had given him her word, though – her promise that Christopher would listen if she asked him to. Apparently they'd been through hell together, and if Roxy trusted her captain, that was good enough for him.

Carolina seemed to be a little wary of his quick inclination to trust her, though. He'd felt the slight tension emanating from his sibling on the flight up from Chorus and now that they were being escorted through the corridors of the Breaking Light, he wasn't at all surprised to hear her open up a private channel with him.

"So," she started, speaking to him without seeming like she was speaking to him, "you're awfully certain of a woman you haven't seen or spoken to for quite a few years. Are you sure you can still trust her?"

"Positive. Do you remember…it was just after the freeway, and they were sure Maine was going to live," he stumbled over the words, finding that even years later, he still had trouble not choking on them when he spoke them. "Do you remember when the old man let us go on leave together…so Maine could recover out of the field?"

"I remember," Carolina said, and he couldn't help noticing the slight tremor in her voice at the mention of the freeway.

"Roxy was able to get some leave time, too…to come see her brother…and we all stayed with Selina that month. Roxy and I just…I don't know. We got really close during that visit. I'd trust her with my life. She'll help us. She'll help us get him back," he said firmly.

Carolina probably would've said more, except that was the moment they were finally led onto the bridge of the Breaking Light. The ship's personnel were all busy going about their work and at the head of it all, Captain Jonathan Christopher stood waiting for them.

The captain was dressed in jet black armor that was accented with a very distinct neon green color. When Wash thought about it, it occurred to him that the man was actually fairly short, barely taller than Felix had been, but for some reason he didn't come off as being short. There was just some sort of presence about the man that belied his actual physical stature.

"Captain," Roxy started as she approached him, snapping him a salute. "These are the men and women of Blood Gulch we've all been hearing so much about."

"Of course," the captain began in a deep, even voice. "It's an honor to finally meet all of you."

"Y'know, maybe it's wrong, but I'm kinda starting to get used to people thinking we're guys worth meeting," Grif couldn't seem to help putting in.

"At least they think so until you say stupid crap like that and give us away," Sarge said with an exasperated shake of his head.

Captain Christopher turned his head to the side in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Apparently it's a long story, Sir. One we don't have time for at this exact moment," Roxy started in before the conversation could devolve into something truly confusing.

"Right, of course," Christopher said, shaking his head to get things back on track. "Commander Hawthorne told me there needs to be a delay in our return to Earth. What exactly is going on here?"

"Well, you see, it all started about thirteen years ago in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere," Donut began.

"Actually, if you want to get technical, everything can be traced back to Project Freelancer," Doc put in.

"Fuck, maybe we're supposed to go back to the part where an asshole and a bitch had two beautiful children. Story might make more sense if we start from there," Grif added.

"But then the bitch got killed and the asshole went crazy. Or maybe it was the two beautiful children who went crazy. Kinda hard to keep it straight anymore," Sarge said.

"That's because it's not," Caboose pointed out. "The love story's about two boys now."

"True enough. Wash, are we talkin' rom com or Romeo and Juliet here?" the Red leader asked the former freelancer.

"Uh…"

"Y'know, I almost can't believe I'm asking this, but who was on top? You or Maine?" Tucker asked.

"Jesus Christ, Tucker! Are you seriously asking me that now?"

"Well, now I'm curious. You're a badass to end all badasses, but Maine…I can't really see anybody topping him. How does that shit work?"

"Uh…if I may…what the fuck just happened?" Roxy asked as she looked around at all of them.

"A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away," Caboose tried to start again, "but not too far away, cuz we're all still here and everything."

"Wait. Are we talking about the original galaxy far, far away or the alternate timeline one from the Jedi Gambit trilogy?" Simmons asked. "Cuz those movies honestly went to complete shit after Episode XVIII."

"You know what? Fuck you, man. There is nothing wrong with the Jedi Gambit trilogy," Grif argued.

"Ah…Hawthorne?" the captain started to ask as he turned to look at his commander. "I did actually wake up this morning, yes? I'm not dreaming all this?"

Throughout all of this, Carolina had begun to snicker, and by now, she'd reached outright laughter at the poor captain's confusion. "Well, Captain Christopher, welcome to Red and Blue 101. It's sort of pass/fail, but I think you'll get the hang of it."

"Agent Carolina, I presume?" Christopher asked, latching onto the one bit of sense he was getting.

"That's right," she said with a nod as she reined herself in. She really had let the discipline slide if she could just laugh in a commanding officer's face like that. "As for what's going on, several…remnants of Project Freelancer have resurfaced in the aftermath of the war with Charon. May I presume you're familiar with the Meta Incident?"

"Yes, I…I am," the captain said, head briefly turning back in Roxy's direction, indicating to Wash and Carolina just how familiar he must be.

"One of Project Freelancer's greatest sins," Carolina said quietly. "But it looks like we might have a chance to at least start to put it right."

"Maine's alive," Wash picked up. "He's being held somewhere on Chorus. We need your help to get him back."

At this, the captain sighed. "Ask for something difficult, why don't you. It's going to be complicated. My orders were to drop a few divisions on Chorus and get you all back to Earth as quick as possible to give testimony for the Hargrove case. To my knowledge, the man hasn't been caught yet, but the case against him's pretty much already been built. All it's going to take is eyewitness testimony. I'm not sure how long I can reasonably delay leaving."

"Not to sound like I'm giving orders on your ship or anything, Captain Christopher, but you've got to. Tell them you've got engine trouble or some bullshit," Wash insisted vehemently. "Hargrove may have dug his own grave, but he's still filthy fucking rich. Even when you do catch him, he'll keep his case tied up in the courts for years. If we leave now, it could be just as long before we're able to return. I'm not leaving here without Maine. I'm just not. Not again. And if that means I have to do something crazy, then I will. Wouldn't be the first time."

Again, Christopher sighed, but his attention ultimately wound up back on Roxy. "Well, Roxana, you know all you have to do is say the word. What do you want me to do?"

"That is an excellent question," a new voice suddenly broke into the conversation as its owner materialized out of thin air. In only a few moments, Agent Virginia and Locus were standing among them. "I think Wash was onto something earlier. Telling your superiors you have engine trouble, I mean."

"Fuck!" Grif shouted.

"Holy shit!" Tucker followed suit, quickly drawing his sword. But before he could do any damage with it, Locus had drawn his own sword, easily blocking the Blue's swing.

"Gin," Carolina growled as she drew her pistol on her former teammate.

"If we could all just calm down, that would be good," Gin said, not drawing a weapon of any kind, just raising his hands placatingly in the air.

"Where's Maine?!" Wash demanded as he drew his own pistol on Gin. "What did you do to him?!"

"Relax, man. He's safe, and so long as nobody does anything stupid in the next few minutes, he can stay that way."

"Tell me where he is," Wash hissed in anger, keeping his weapon trained on the other agent. Gin sighed and shook his head.

"I hate it when negotiations go south. Thing is, Jonathan, you all being here is a pretty big inconvenience for us," Gin informed the captain. "Me, I'd be just as content to torch the lot of you, but apparently we need to keep you alive so the UNSC won't get suspicious and send out more ships. That's the last thing we need. So if you would be so kind as to order the Breaking Light to set down on Chorus, that really would be the simplest course of action."

"So just what is it you think will prevent me from informing command of our situation if I were to do as you say?" Christopher asked the former freelancer.

"My two compadres on the ground. We don't need any Purge to wipe people out. I've got one guy in position at the comm tower and the other in position at Outpost 16 – one to take out the general and the good commander's squad and another to take out our war weary heroes' dear friends recuperating under the care of Dr. Emily Grey. So land the ship and inform the UNSC you're having engine trouble…or I'll tell my people to start blowing shit up. Your call, cap," Gin finished with a shrug.

Wash gave an angry snarl of frustration. Much as he wanted to tackle Gin to the floor and beat him until he revealed where Maine was being held, his thoughts also went to the others thousands of miles below them – Kimball, Grey, Andersmith, Jensen, Matthews, all of them. One word from Gin and they would all die. Could he really risk all those lives…just for Maine?

"What's it going to be, heroes?" Gin asked mockingly. "I won't wait forever. Make your choice."

XxX

(A/N) Duh-duh-duh-dum! Okay, shouldn't leave you hanging nearly as long this time. The only note I really have to leave you all with is that the lullaby Emily heard is 'Safe & Sound' by Taylor Swift.