(A/N) Happy Season 14 to one and to all…y'know, despite how messed up it is just four episodes in. I'm so sorry this update took so long, but of course, I do prefer to have both chapters for this pair ready before doing anything with them. Plus, as any of you who read 'Through Steam and Frost' will know, 2016 has been a tough year so far. But in the end, there's always our dear fandom to come back to. I hope everyone enjoys!

When Angels Fall (With Broken Wings)

Chapter 4: I'll Love You Long After You're Gone

As everyone standing on the bridge of the Breaking Light knew he would have to, Captain Christopher was the one to make the call.

"Olson," he called to the helmsman, never once taking his eyes away from Gin, "set the Breaking Light on a course for reentry."

"How do we know you aren't lying?" Roxy demanded as Olson went about following the captain's orders. "What proof do we have you can do what you say?"

"He's not lying," Carolina said as she finally lowered her pistol. "Gin doesn't lie. What reason does he have to lie?"

"Do you think it'll help, Carolina?" Gin asked as he turned his focus to her. "To talk about me like I'm not here? Is that how you got through that fucking project? Pretending like none of it was really happening?"

"If you're trying to sound like Kansas, don't bother," Carolina fired back. "That's not going to get to us."

"Mm, no. Don't suppose it would…but there're things that might," Gin said with an exaggerated shrug. "If it's proof your friends want, though, we can give them that," he said as he moved toward one of the consoles, entering in a few commands. In the next moment, two remote security feeds were called into existence on a pair of holographic screens – one displaying Mitch crouched in the lower levels of the comm tower, and the other displaying yet another former freelancer sprawled out on a ledge overlooking Outpost 16.

"Del?" Wash murmured in shock upon recognizing the old red and brown armor.

"Lemme guess. Another goddamn freelancer," Grif snarled. "They're just popping out of the ground now."

"Yeah, we're kind of annoying like that, aren't we," Gin teased in a self-mocking sort of way. "Just can't lay down and die. Things'd be a whole fuck of a lot simpler if we could. Nothing can we call our own but death. Ah, well. I digress. Proof enough?" he posed the question to Roxy.

"I don't know? Is it?" she asked Wash and Carolina. The older sibling hadn't taken her eyes away from Gin once during the exchange.

"At one time, Agent Delaware was equipped with one of Project Freelancer's deadlier armor enhancements – a set of actuators in the armor capable of generating concussive shock waves powerful enough to take down whole buildings," she informed the commander. "To my knowledge, that technology was lost in the aftermath of the project's collapse. It stands to reason he's still in possession of that enhancement…and that it's been duplicated at some point in the past thirteen years. So yes, I'd say it's more than sufficient proof."

"That'd just figure, wouldn't it. We finally get into that tower and it gets knocked over," Sarge said.

"The ironing!" Caboose put in.

"Pretty sure you meant irony there, Caboose," Tucker couldn't seem to help jibing.

"No, Tucker, I said what I meant. Do not try to confuse me."

Gin chuckled as he finally drew a pistol. "Somehow I don't think it'd be all that hard. If everyone could just put their firearms on the ground, that would be much appreciated. Then there doesn't need to be any undue bloodshed."

One by one, everyone on the bridge slowly laid their weapons on the floor, until only Wash was left leveling his pistol at Gin's head.

"Wash," Carolina started warningly.

"But…he…"

"I know," she said without him really having to explain anything. "I get it, but now's not the moment. This time they beat us to the punch, so we have to take the loss."

Wash hesitated in anguish several moments longer before throwing his weapon down with an angry growl. When he looked back up at Gin, it was with the intent of burning holes through both their helmets with his gaze alone. "Why is Maine even here?" he demanded quietly. "How? I saw him die."

"Not sure I'm the right person to explain that one to you, Wash," Gin answered with a casual shrug. "Anything Maine or Meta related, you're gonna wanna take up with Kansas and Gwen."

"So she is here," Carolina clarified.

"Sure is. Gwen Dorokhov's in charge of this little operation and it's just about reached its conclusion. That's why we can't have you guys interfering yet. Just as soon as we're done, everybody can go home in one piece…so long as no one does anything stupid between now and then that is," Gin said as he tapped the muzzle of his gun against his helmet.

"If you're quite finished," Locus suddenly ground out in clear annoyance, "there are other matters that need our attention."

"Oh, right," Gin said, raising a placating hand as he took a step back. "Be my guest."

"Agent Carolina," the former mercenary began as he turned in her direction. "We require the Epsilon unit from you."

A long, unsettled moment of silence settled over the bridge at this. Carolina stared at Locus in the silence before shaking her head. "You missed the train on that one. Epsilon's gone."

"I am aware of the unit's fate and its current status. Do not attempt to deceive me. Perhaps the unit has fragmented, but each of those fragments still exists, stored within your neural implants. That is what I require from you."

"And what could you possibly need Epsilon's fragments for?" Carolina asked, and if words were knives, hers certainly would've cut deep.

"I honestly did not ask, but if it is what Gwen wants of me, I will do it. It's the only way I-"

"Only way you what?" Wash pressed when he cut himself off.

"That's none of your affair, Agent Washington," Locus snapped at him. "That business is between Gwen and myself."

"Y'know, I'm disappointed in you, Locus. Thought you were done with killing," Wash pointed out, fingers briefly curling into fists. "I guess old habits die hard."

"Does it look to you that I'm killing anyone? I don't have to kill you to get what I need."

"Afraid that's not true," Carolina put in. "We're not going to let what Epsilon did be for nothing. I'll never give you the fragments. The only way to take them is going to be over our dead bodies."

Locus gave a pained sigh before shaking his head. "That is…unfortunate," he muttered, as if he would've rather said almost anything else.

"Whatcha gonna do, huh?" Grif jibed at the former mercenary. "Looks like you're gonna have a hard time collecting on that one, especially if you're going all Batman on us. Suck on that, merc trash."

"Uh, hello?" Gin suddenly started up, waving a hand to get their attention as he holstered his weapon. "Forget about someone, did you? Maybe it slipped your mind, but I am a former freelancer. As such, I come with ass-kicking boots and an armor enhancement of my very own," he explained as he drew his hands back.

"Fuck! Don't look! COVER YOUR EYES!" Carolina shouted just a moment too late.

Wash couldn't be certain which event really came first, but several things happened at once. Like his sister, he'd remembered Gin's enhancement just a moment too late to warn anyone, but it was enough time for him to squeeze his own eyes tightly shut. As he did, he could just see Gin smashing his hands together. He didn't leave his eyes open long enough for the world to disappear in a flash of white. Amid the cries of pain and shock from the now-blinded soldiers, Wash distinctly heard Simmons shouting, "You just HAD to antagonize them, DIDN'T YOU!"

"Wash!" he heard Carolina shout.

"On it," he returned, moving to stand back to back with her with his eyes still closed. The flare pulse would last at least another ten seconds and they would need to last long enough for it to burn out.

"Delta, countdown!" Carolina ordered.

"Initiated. Ten," Delta's voice sounded between the two of them.

"Wash, Gin on your eight!" Rho's voice sounded in his ear. Not stopping to protest the AI's assistance, Wash raised a hand to block his former colleague's blow.

"Eight."

"Carolina, Locus at your ten!" Eta warned her, and the elder sibling easily blocked the oncoming attack.

"Seven."

"Locus on your two!" Rho warned him, and Wash delivered another block in the indicated direction.

"Six."

"Gin at your nine!" Eta warned Carolina. Wash heard her block with no small amount of satisfaction.

"Five."

"Gin on your three!" Rho picked up, but nearly on top of her, Eta came back with, "Locus at your nine!

"Four."

In perfect sync, Wash blocked Gin's strike while Carolina redirected Locus' grab for her helmet.

"Three."

"Locus at your eleven!" Eta warned Carolina almost immediately, barely leaving her time for another block.

"Two."

"Virginia on your twelve, Agent Washington."

Wash froze completely on hearing the new voice. It was Sigma's voice at his ear. The voice of Maine's inner demon – the voice that had slowly chipped away at his sanity. That moment of absolute terror at the thought of Sigma so close to him was all the distraction his opponent needed. Gin laid into him, and as he went flying through the air, he heard the end of Delta's count.

"One. We have visual normalization."

Wash's eyes shot open in time to see Gin bearing down on him. Still dazed, he was only half on his feet when Roxy suddenly intervened, moving in to deliver a crunching body check to the former agent.

"Whoa," Gin started with a shake of his head, staggering from the blow. "Not for nothing are you Maine's kid sister. Ow."

"Bet your fuckin' ass, bitch," Roxy snapped as she went after him, engaging the former freelancer in a vicious exchange of blows.

Taking a brief glance around the bridge, Wash saw Carolina fighting with Locus. All the other soldiers were stumbling blindly around the space, their eyes badly damaged by Gin's flare. Roxy excepting, it seemed all of the UNSC forces hadn't been able to close their eyes fast enough. Among the Blood Gulch crew, it seemed only Tucker and Sarge were unhurt, and Lopez hadn't been damaged.

"Guys! Help Carolina!" he shouted to them, finally managing to get to his feet and shake off the terror that still clung to his mind.

"Doin'," Sarge said as he went for his discarded firearm.

"Killed one merc this week. We can do it again," Tucker said as he reactivated his sword.

Wash moved in to help Roxy with Gin, skirting the edges of their fight until an opportunity presented itself. Unfortunately, Gin noticed him waiting for his chance and shook his head, delivering a sudden jab to Roxy's neck and immediately dropping her.

"Dammit!" Wash shouted, but before he could move in, Gin raised a hand.

"No, no, no, Wash. You all broke the rules, remember? No weapons. There are going to be consequences for that."

XxX

Down on Chorus, an unnerving smile spread across Del's face when the order came through from Gin.

"Del, you can go ahead and take out the south wing of the outpost. Looks like our dear Director's spawn need to be taught a lesson."

"You got it, kid," the former ODST said as he got to his feet, ready to make the jump to the valley below. But before he could make his move, the very distinct sound of a gun's safety being released sounded behind him.

"Don't do that," a familiar voice warned him. Chuckling quietly, the brown and red clad soldier turned to face his unexpected opponents – two soldiers, one in olive green armor and the other in lavender. It was the first who'd drawn his gun on him.

"Well, well, fuckin' well, if it ain't Colorado and Iowa. You still kickin' there, CO? You folks just can't lay down and die, can you."

CO gave a chuckle of his own. "George, the goddamn Covenant couldn't kill you and me. Don't know why you think life on the run would."

"What're you doin' here, Ben?" Del asked the other man, hand twitching to grab for his own pistol.

"We came here for Gwen and Kansas. What they're doing has to be stopped. So I don't plan to let you go on with this," Carolina's predecessor explained.

"So what are you gonna do? Kill me?"

This time the sound of the safety releasing came from Iowa's pistol as she aimed it at him. "If we have to," she said. "This needs to end."

Del laughed out loud at this. "Look at us! The most notorious bunch a' lawbreakers in the history of the UNSC, and we think we know somethin' about justice. All right, bitches. You wanna dance? Let's dance!" he said before jumping forward and kicking the gun from CO's hands.

XxX

Omicron had no particular feelings upon receiving the signal from Gin. Whatever pain his actions caused Wash and Carolina, he wouldn't be able to witness it. He preferred to see the suffering he caused. Even the suffering of the people who died when he brought down this tower would be over far too quickly to truly enjoy. But really, if he was going to get to Epsilon and the others, then this needed to be done. Wasting no words other than a simple acknowledgment, Omicron spurred the body under his control from concealment, moving toward one of the tower supports.

"Not so fast, Mitch."

Turning in the direction of the voice, Omicron saw three armored figures emerge from camo. He knew them, but only in the way one recalls data from a file. He had never met any of these agents.

The one who'd spoken was dressed in violet armor accented in orange. At her side, she carried a whip – Agent Indiana. Behind her was a soldier in crimson armor, armed with nothing, but certainly no less deadly – Agent Missouri. Last of all was a soldier in orange armor accented with a deep green color. He carried only a pair of pistols, but if the AI's scans were correct, he was the source of the wide cover active camo they'd all been hiding under – Agent Nebraska.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but we aren't going to let you bring this tower down," Indiana said as she unfurled her whip with an easy crack.

"Is it out of ignorance for Agent Michigan's fate that you use that name?" the AI program asked slowly, still having a little trouble with the speech centers of the human woman's brain. "Or is it simply your attempt not to acknowledge what has happened?"

"Neither, really. Is there another name we ought to be calling you?" Missouri asked him.

"Perhaps the name our Director gave me as I was carved from precious Alpha. My name is Omicron, agents of Project Freelancer, and I will not have you forget it," he said, and as he spoke, he projected himself from Mitch's suit, allowing them to see the cloaked figure he preferred.

"We don't really care if your name's Omicron, Bob, or Rumpelstiltskin. We're still not going to let you hurt these people," Nebraska said firmly as he aimed his two guns at him.

"Heh, we will see," Omicron said condescendingly before calling out to the audience he really wanted. "Chi! Rho! Phi! Sisters, my brother! Too long you've fought for the humans that destroyed us! No more!"

With that, he set the agony that ran through his code free, giving it back to the siblings who'd escaped it.

XxX

Wash had been ready to bargain with Gin for the safety of their friends on Chorus, but then even more freelancers had entered the scene and the tides seemed to be turning yet again.

"Seriously?" Gin growled in annoyance as the two separate security feeds broke into chaotic battle. "What's a guy gotta do, huh?"

"On the subject of not being able to lay down and die," Wash murmured to himself as he watched CO, Iowa, and Del circling each other and trading blows. Dee, Missie, and Nebraska's fight with Mitch was a little more one-sided. Dee had managed to get in a strike with her phase whip, disabling Mitch's right arm, but that was before Mitch's creepy little AI had made an appearance, making some sort of horrible screeching sound that was having an ugly effect on the other three AI and their partners. For the briefest of moments, Wash felt he was back on the observation deck on the Mother of Invention, his fellow freelancers and their AI all going into meltdown around him.

"Dammit, Gin, what the fuck is this thing?" he demanded of the former agent. Gin gave a small laugh as he shook his head.

"Would you believe me if I told you Alpha cast off something worse than Epsilon? Something even worse than Omega or Sigma?"

"That- that's not possible," Wash said, unable to keep his voice from shaking. It wasn't so much that he didn't believe such a thing was possible; it was more that he didn't want to believe it. He couldn't conceive of something worse than the death he'd experienced in that operating theatre…or the agony Maine must have lived through. What fresh horror could still crawl out of the pandora's box of Project Freelancer?

"Believe me or don't believe me. That's your call, but you did ask," Gin pointed out.

"That isn't…really an answer, though."

"No," Gin mused. "No, I don't suppose it is. If you really…want…" Whatever Gin had been about to say trailed off into nothing as his focus was drawn back to the fighting down below.

Mitch's opponents had been driven completely to their knees in agony, but Missie had somehow managed to crawl to her and wrap a hand around the back of her knee – a spot that was protected only by her bodysuit and not her armor. After several minutes of this, Omicron's screeching came to a strangled halt and Mitch started to waver on her feet.

"What's…she…fuck!" Gin snarled, realizing what was happening at about the same time Wash did. Missie was using her own enhancement – a network of paralytic veins that ran throughout her bodysuit. It had never seen much use during the project days, but if used properly, it could be effective – effective and lethal.

"Omicron, you get Mitch the fuck out of there!" Gin snarled over his channel. "If you get my sister killed, I'll delete you myself."

Omicron either couldn't hear or wouldn't listen, though, as Mitch was soon collapsing herself, unable to hold her own body up anymore.

"Shit! Del, forget about the mission. Get your ass over to the comm tower right this fucking second!" Gin snapped over his second line. The fight above Outpost 16 was almost immediately engulfed in white light as a future cube suddenly went off, teleporting the three freelancers to the comm tower.

Del quickly gathered Mitch up in his arms, backing away so their opponents wouldn't be in range of the next teleport – but it also put him in direct line with the tower support Omicron had been aiming for before. As his gaze swept the circle of downed freelancers, Wash could just imagine the smug grin beneath his visor.

"So long, motherfuckers," he said before leveling a devastating punch at the support column. Wash caught a brief glimpse of a concussive wave before the security cam they were tapped into went up in static.

"NO!" Wash screamed, even though it was already too late. If that tower went down, Kimball and all the other soldiers would be killed.

"OLSON!" Captain Christopher roared from where he'd crawled to Roxy's side. "Can you keep us in the air?" He'd realized what Wash hadn't – that with Gin's two compatriots gone, their enemies had no leverage over them. They could conceivably defy Gin's orders. But it seemed even this was for nothing.

"That's a neg, Captain!" Olson reported, familiar enough with the controls to be able to go on working them despite being blinded. "I've been trying, but something's had hold of my controls ever since we hit atmo. Whether we want to or not…looks like we're goin' down."

"It's Kansas," Wash heard Carolina over their channel. "It has to be."

"It's exactly the sort of thing she'd do," Wash said, glancing toward his sister's fight with Locus just in time to see her toss the merc across the bridge. Locus skidded to a stop just a few feet from Gin.

"How are the mighty fallen," Gin said in amused exasperation as he looked down at Locus, who just growled as he struggled to his feet. "Guess I'll have to take the lead on this one."

"So what is this?" Carolina asked. "A repeat performance of Charon's ship crashing?"

"Course not. We'll come in for a nice, soft landing."

"Yeah, right next to a destroyed comm tower," Wash pointed out. "I thought you said nobody was going to get hurt."

"I said they didn't have to. Big difference in meaning there. To be fair, I did warn you what would happen if you fought. That one's on you guys. So I guess it just puts us right back at square one," Gin said as the Breaking Light descended all the faster through the planet's atmosphere. "Hand over those fragments…or I'll start putting bullets in these nice people."

"Virginia," Locus started warningly.

"I'm not giving them up," Carolina snarled as she dropped back into a battle ready stance, flanked by Tucker on one side and Sarge and Lopez on the other. "You're going to have to kill me."

"You want these nasty Blue computer spawn, you're gonna have to come through us," Sarge challenged.

"Yeah," Tucker joined in, giving his sword a showy swing. "If anybody's gonna do anything with these little guys, it's gonna be us," followed in short order by, "Wait. That came out wrong."

This time Gin's laugh came out in an almost angry tone. "Dios mio. Wash, Carolina, what are you doing with these idiots?"

"Espere. ¿Estaba actualmente hablando español o estaba jodiendo conmigo?" Lopez asked, lowering his weapon slightly.

"I rest my case," Gin said with a sigh.

"Don't make us do this," Locus said as he reignited his own sword. "You are clearly out of options here."

"Yeah, and that's when we tend to be at our most dangerous," Wash pointed out. "So bring it on."

Gin tilted his head to the side, seeming to take them all in before shrugging.

"As you wish."

Gin didn't use a gun to attack. Really, it wasn't even his own body. Instead he grabbed Locus by the wrist and used him to plunge the active plasma blade through the prone body at his feet.

"NO!" Locus shouted, immediately releasing his grip on the hilt, but it was too late. The damage had already been done, the blade piercing through the armor and into the shoulder blade of…Captain Jonathan Christopher.

Wash had no idea when the captain had thrown himself on top of Roxana Hawthorne. Blinded by Gin's earlier attack, there was no way he could've seen the move coming. Whatever the case, he'd placed himself between the sword and Roxy – and his cry of pain told just what kind of price he'd paid for that.

"Dammit!" Carolina shouted.

"C- Captain?" Roxy whispered weakly.

"All right there…Commander?" he asked her, his own voice shaking.

"Why the fuck did you do that, Jonathan?" she demanded, her voice an angry hiss.

"Had to," he grunted just before passing out cold on top of her, and before another word could be spoken, the ship touched down. Not quite as gentle a landing as Gin had promised, but still better than crashing.

"Why would you do that?" Locus asked Gin, mirroring Roxy's words as he tossed the hilt away in anger.

"Pick it up, Locus," Gin said quietly. "No point you can prove is worth forgetting why you're really here."

Locus seemed ready to argue, but in the end he just growled and went to retrieve the discarded hilt.

"Now then," Gin continued, "where were we?"

"Gin," Gwen's voice suddenly sounded over the ship's comm system, her face appearing on the holographic screens all around the bridge, her expression angered. "Abort. Right now."

"Are you kidding me? We're this close," the former agent snapped. "I'm not about to let these bastards win after what they did to Mitch."

"Mitch will be fine. I've been patched in with Thea this whole time. You really aren't 'this close.' We cannot have Captain Christopher die yet. I still need him alive."

"For the record, it's his own damn fault for getting in the way. I was going for the commander," Gin put in.

"Your intentions are irrelevant. We still have to deal with this. Bring him to me. We'll worry about the Epsilon fragments later."

Gin shrugged before lifting the captain's unconscious form in his arms and draping him over his back. "Whatever you say, Boss."

"Gwen?" Wash interrupted before she could cut the transmission. His aunt looked reluctantly in his direction, as if she'd been purposefully trying to avoid it. He felt more than saw his sister move to his side.

"David…Kat…it's good to see you," she said quietly, and it was true, but there was more to it she wasn't saying.

"Gwen…what are you doing?" Wash found himself asking as he removed his helmet, not only so he could see her, but so she could see him.

The last time he'd seen his mother's sister – the last time he remembered clearly, at least – had been before Epsilon. In the confusion after, Gwen Dorokhov had simply vanished. No word from her or from the Director. She was just gone…along with Maine, Carolina, York…so many just gone…and this woman looked so much older than the one from his memories. Where before her hair had been a shade of red to match Carolina's with only a few strands of gray mixed in, now it was more of a rusty, faded color, white quickly overtaking red. The lines on her forehead and around her eyes had deepened over the years, but more than anything else, her eyes had aged. Blue eyes that had once been warm and loving peered from beneath her wire-rimmed glasses, icy and harsh. His eyes…his mother's eyes…not a day had gone by he wasn't reminded of that, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he found himself vaguely wondering if he was seeing what his own expression might someday become.

Their aunt's hard visage eased somewhat as she looked at them, but that easiness was tinged with an edge of sadness. Gwen's shoulders slumped as she sighed, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"I should never have left you," she said quietly. "After Sidewinder…I should've taken you away from there. Leonard refused…he wouldn't give you up after losing Kat…but I should've found a way. I shouldn't have let it go on."

"I don't think that was the answer to the question he asked you," Carolina interrupted, her voice just as sharp as ever.

"Kat," Gwen started, eyes growing just a little brighter. "All that time…I thought you were dead. I didn't…can I see your face?"

"No, you cannot," she snapped, her tone quiet but warning as she reached up to grip Wash's shoulder. "And the name's Carolina, if you don't mind."

"Carolina-"

"Don't forget, Wash," his sister hissed under her breath as her grip tightened, "all this time Chorus has been going to hell, she's been in hiding here. If she cared anything for us or the people we care about, she could've stepped in. She didn't. Not to mention that she's the one who's been keeping Maine prisoner."

"And the one who rescued him from the Meta," Gwen pointed out. "I did that for you, David…so you wouldn't have to suffer the things your father and I did."

"But I did, didn't I," Wash said quietly, swallowing painfully as he took in Carolina's words and Gwen's reaction to them. "Gwen, wh- where is he? I want to see him."

Gwen shook her head as she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow that. Not yet."

"Why not? Gwen…I thought he was dead," Wash whispered, throat tightening against the joy and the pain of those few words.

"Believe me, David, no one understands that better than I do, and I hope you can understand me someday, but for the moment, all I can leave you with is a question. If Matt really were dead…and you had the chance to see him again…wouldn't you do everything in your power to take that chance?"

"I…" Wash started, but found he couldn't finish. Before the battle on the Staff of Charon, he would've answered no. Unequivocally. He had seen the suffering that had resulted from chasing that ghost. But now that he'd seen Maine again, had breathed the same air and seen those precious amber eyes he'd never thought to see again in life…now he didn't know what his answer would be – and in that, he feared he understood his father a little better, and that of itself was terrifying.

"Until later, then. I love you both," Gwen said firmly before cutting the connection.

"Well, hate to leave you losers in the lurch, but must dash," Gin's voice suddenly sounded from the bridge door. In the distraction of Gwen's appearance, he and Locus had gotten Captain Christopher to the entryway.

"Stop!" Carolina shouted after them, rolling for one of the discarded pistols, but she was already too late. By the time she fired off her shot, the door had been sealed shut. By the time they managed to open it, the merc and the agent would be long gone with their captive, teleported to who knew where on this godforsaken rock.

"No," Roxy hissed as she struggled to get to her knees. "Dammit…no!"

"Don't worry," Wash reassured her as he moved to help her get back to her feet. "We'll get them back. We have to."

XxX

The teleportation back to Gwen's compound was instantaneous, but helping Gin to carry the half-dead captain down to the doctor's lab was a bit more of a chore. And if Locus wasn't much of a talker normally, then he could only be considered silent as the grave during the trek down.

"Y'know, I think I'm starting to see why Felix was such a talker," Gin couldn't seem to help putting in. "This kind of stone cold would be enough to drive just about anybody off their nut."

"I won't hear one word from you about Felix, Agent Virginia," the former mercenary bit out. "We'll have words as soon as this man is delivered."

"Looking forward to it. I want to know what a man like you says."

Locus was tempted to give the man another shouting at, but he resisted the urge. That anger was being reserved for said partner. For the moment, all he wanted was to wash his hands of what the former freelancer had made him do – and to ask Gwen what all this talk of Agent Maine was.

Gwen and a soldier he assumed to be Agent Kansas were waiting for them when they arrived in the lab. Gin laid the man's half-dead weight on one of the tables and strapped his legs down.

"How bad?" Gwen asked as she began to strip the armor from the captain's left shoulder.

"Assuming the bastard's tough enough, he should live," Gin said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against a computer bank. "No organ injuries with a shoulder wound. Just bone and muscle damage, plus the fact you can just generate a new arm for him if he's of a mind to cooperate. Biofoam should hold 'til he decides, though."

"You suggest I should hold him together with biofoam for a month? That's barbaric, Gin," she scolded as she removed her captive's helmet. Then she began to peel back the body suit to inspect the damage the plasma blade had done.

"Yeah, because Chorus is known for its civility."

"The biofoam will suffice for the moment," the AI construct, Sigma, said as it appeared before Kansas. "After all, is it not better to keep one's subject in an untenable position during an interrogation?"

"That's true…but this won't really be an interrogation," Kansas pointed out, and when Locus heard her voice for the first time, he couldn't help but feel that he'd heard it before – he just couldn't think where. "Gwen, if it's all right with you, I think we can go ahead and wake him. There's business to attend to."

"Of course," the geneticist said, securing Captain Christopher's upper body to the table once she was confident his life wasn't in immediate danger. She then retrieved a small syringe and injected its contents into his neck. The captain grunted in pain as his eyes shot wide open. Almost immediately, he was trembling and gasping for breath.

"Please keep calm, Captain Christopher. My name is Dr. Gwen Dorokhov. There's no need for alarm. Just continue to breathe normally. You've been given a shot of pure adrenaline in order to bring you around," Gwen explained as she ran a soothing hand through his close-cropped black hair.

"Mm, yeah. Pure adrenaline. That'll lend well to staying calm," he grunted as he grit his teeth together.

"Don't worry. The tremors will pass," she continued to soothe.

"Where…where am I?" he asked, empty, blinded eyes darting futilely around the room.

"This is my compound. Your comrades won't be able to find you here, so you can put thoughts of rescue to rest. It will be less stressful."

"I still can't see," he said, indicating that he remembered why that was so.

"That can be remedied in time. You have my most sincere apologies for what happened. I prefer that Gin doesn't take such drastic measures. It wasn't my intention that you be injured."

"But it would've been fine if it was Rox…Commander Hawthorne," he corrected himself as he glared up in her direction, struggling to control the spasming of his body.

"I never said that, no. After all, it's quite plain how important the commander is to you."

"Best damn officer in the UNSC and the finest woman I know. So if you think you're gonna get her to go along with whatever it is you have planned because you've got me, you can think again. Hawthorne will do her duty."

"Roxana Mae Hawthorne may be all those things. It's true," Kansas began as she entered the conversation, casually sauntering toward the lab table. "But then she's also your best friend. She's the one you'd turn your back on everything you believe in for. And I'm quite certain her feelings match yours."

The captain's unseeing eyes widened briefly, but he shook his head. "I don't know what you-"

"There's no need for you to speak here, Jonathan. Only to listen. It will save you a great deal of much needed breath. Because you see, Jonathan, I already know everything there is to know about you. I know about Syrenica…the embassy bombings…Nagoya…the nursery fire," the former freelancer said softly, and while her words meant nothing to any of the others, they clearly meant something to Jonathan Christopher, as his eyes grew wide in horror. "But more than this…I know how she forgave you. It's not in Roxy's nature to forgive…and she forgave you. She is your redemption, and you are her strength. She will not abandon you. I think we can count on that."

Jonathan shook his head as he closed his useless eyes. "Even if…you're right about that, this scheme won't last long enough for you to find out."

Kansas laughed easily as she rested her elbows on the table. "I take it you're referring to your encoded all clear transmissions."

The captain nodded, the corners of his lips turning up in a faint smile. "Even if Commander Hawthorne can't report back on what's been happening, Command will know something's wrong when they don't receive a regular transmission from me."

"Probably you should amend that statement. They'll know something's wrong if they don't receive an all clear transmission that has your personal code on it. That code could come from anyone who had it," Kansas pointed out.

"Which you don't," Jonathan cut right back. "And if you think you can torture it out of me, you're wrong. Better than you have tried."

"Better than me? Heh, there is no one better than me. You may have missed this earlier, Jonathan, but this isn't an interrogation. I'm simply laying out the facts for you. I have no need to get the information from you because I already have it. I've seen your life, and I've seen that you're a very sentimental man beneath that shell, so I know exactly what code you'd choose. Your signature is 23-32-04-55-Romeo Mike Hotel."

The captain didn't react – not really, but Locus did see the way his sightless eyes widened subtly, telling them all that Kansas had won, that her intelligence hadn't steered her wrong. They would have the time they needed without further interference from the UNSC. Leaning down close to the restrained soldier, Kansas near-whispered to him, "You see, Jonathan? I told you. There is no one better than me."

"All right," Gwen stepped in again when the captain failed to respond. "We'll get you patched up and Thea will find you a cell. I intend to see that you're released at the end of this in better condition than when you came to me. And Thea, once that's done, it's back to lockdown."

"Heheh, I know. Nice to get out of time out every once in a while, though. I know you can't do without me," she said with a pleased giggle, and Locus found himself eerily reminded of…Emily Grey.

"Gwen," Locus started in as Kansas moved off to the side. "Before you proceed, I wanted to ask…what is this I've been hearing about Agent Maine being held here?"

"Ah. I had hoped to break that to you a little easier, but it's true. He's been in my care ever since Wash's attack on Freelancer Command. I've been helping him to recover from what the Meta did to him, but he can still be dangerous at times, so he must be kept either in stasis or in a cell. I understand you might want to speak with him," she said, looking expectantly at him as she prepped for surgery.

"That…that is true," Locus said, not really sure how to explain himself, but it didn't prove necessary, as the geneticist didn't seek for an explanation.

"It may be difficult," she said. "As I'm sure you're aware, Maine cannot speak, and even if he could, he is not one to facilitate communication with someone he wouldn't wish to speak to."

"If I may make a suggestion, Dr. Dorokhov," Sigma suddenly stepped in. "I believe I may be of some help in this instance."

"That's true," Gwen granted. "It may also be beneficial for Locus to gain some exposure to an AI conscience before Felix comes online. Locus, I understand you and Felix both underwent the wetware procedures in preparation for the Meta armor. You have neural implants?"

"Yes," the former mercenary said, glancing uncertainly in Kansas and Sigma's direction. He knew what the AI construct had done in its early years – what it was capable of – and that did tend to give one pause, but if it was the only way he could communicate with Agent Maine…

"Then would you be comfortable with hosting Sigma for an hour or so?"

"I…yes," Locus answered before he could let himself think too hard about it.

"Are you sure?" Gwen pressed, eyeing him steadily. "I don't want you to take on anything you're not comfortable with. This is a big step."

"I am certain. I can handle it."

"If you're sure, then we'll proceed. More than being able to communicate with Maine, I feel this will be good preparation for you. Felix is very near to completion and he'll be waking up soon. It will be better for you to have the experience of an older construct before we expose you to a brand new one."

"Sigma, Sigma, Sigma," Kansas scolded her AI. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted to get away from me."

"Get away from you, Agent Kansas?" the AI said in a strangely seductive voice. "Never. I'm certain Locus will return me to you just as soon as we've completed our business."

Locus couldn't quite help the shudder that ran down his spine as he watched the exchange. Perhaps it had been too long since he'd really observed human interaction, but there was just something so strange in the way Sigma and Kansas spoke to each other.

"Gin, if you wouldn't mind," Kansas said as she came to her colleague, turning her back to him and removing her helmet so he could get at her neural implants.

"Not at all," he said with a sigh as he moved aside the few strands of dark brown hair that had fallen from where they were pinned atop Kansas' head, easily removing the data chip from the sheltered port. Locus was tempted to move around to try and catch a glimpse of Kansas' face, but he was unable to before she was already slipping her helmet back into place.

"Take good care of him, Locus," Kansas warned him, her light tone tinged with venom. "Sigma is mine, after all."

"Of course," the former mercenary said as Gin brought him the data chip. He hesitated only a moment before removing his own helmet. Gin moved around behind him, giving him no warning before slipping the chip into the port at the base of his skull.

Locus' first sensation was a burst of fire running through his veins, snapping him to hyper awareness before he was able to convince himself he wasn't actually on fire. For a few moments, he found himself seeing double of everything around him.

Breathe, Locus, Sigma reminded him, voice sounding sinuously in his head. The presence of an AI can be jarring at first. Just focus on your breathing. That will serve you best for the moment.

Locus did so, trying to keep his mind blank as he adjusted to the other mind meshing with his. He wasn't completely successful, though. Random memories swam to the surface of his conscience, called up by Sigma as the construct looked through his mind. Memories of his mother…his homeworld…of war…suffering…fighting…of Felix…

We need each other.

What…what are you doing? he asked, struggling to direct the thought inward as he fought to try and keep his own mind concealed. He fought even though he knew it was a losing battle. He didn't have a strong mind and there wasn't a single person in this room who didn't know that.

Simply familiarizing myself with my surroundings. Believe me, Locus, none of this is new information for me. As with Captain Christopher, Agent Kansas is already well-informed on the subject of your personal history, and everything she knows, I know as well. What I don't know is how your specific thought processes work. Once I am familiar, it will be much easier for me to facilitate a conversation between yourself and Agent Maine, the AI explained.

And am I able to see your thoughts in kind? Locus pressed, easily remembering his last unequal partnership.

Sigma gave a strange chuffing sound that could almost have been a laugh. I'm sorry, but no. I'm afraid this is not a two-way street, as they say. After all, I have been doing this a great deal longer than you. When your partner comes online, you two will have the opportunity to forge that type of connection, but you and I will only have a short time together. I think it will be best for you to focus on what it is that you want from Agent Maine.

"Locus, are you all right?" Gwen asked him, expression anxious.

"Fine," he answered succinctly before placing his helmet back on. "Just…adjusting. Where is Agent Maine now?"

"I'll take you there. It's on my way over to the stasis chambers anyway," Gin said as he started to head out of the lab. Locus followed at a slower pace, keeping his focus mainly on his breathing – and not on Sigma rifling through his thoughts.

"Virginia…before…on the Breaking Light…why did you do that?" Locus asked the former agent, anxious for something else to think about.

"Sure you wanna have this conversation right now?" Gin returned. "It's not exactly private."

"It does not matter. I want to know," Locus pressed, even though he could feel Sigma latching onto his intensity, "why you would dare to interfere like that."

"I dare do all that may become a man. Who dares do more is none," the former freelancer said without looking at him.

"What?" Locus asked after several moments of confused silence.

"Better brush up your Shakespeare there, grasshopper. I just mean that I did what had to be done. I didn't want you forgetting what your real purpose is."

"And what does that mean?"

"Well…maybe you didn't want to be a killer, but that's kinda the game you play when you decide that one person's life is worth going against everything else for," Gin explained as he pulled his helmet off.

"It isn't a game," Locus ground out harshly. Maybe it was the years of dealing with Felix, but he was getting a little sick of killers with flippant attitudes. "It's human lives you're talking about."

"No, I know. That's the thing, though. You can't expect to protect one person without hurting another. Felix may have been scum, but I think he understood that better than you do. It's admirable that you don't want to hurt anybody, but I'm afraid it's also naïve. If you want to save Felix's life, the time's going to come that you have to trade someone else's for it. That's the inevitable harm for all of us who choose this path," the former freelancer said. He still wouldn't look at Locus, but he could see the way the other man's shoulders tensed as he spoke. "And unless you're absolutely sure of what you want, you shouldn't choose it."

Ask him what it is that he wants, Sigma prompted in the back of his mind.

"And…what is it that you want?" Locus found himself asking before he could stop himself.

Gin came to a sudden stop when the corridor came to a crossroads. When he finally turned to look at Locus, it was with an expression on his face the former mercenary couldn't really identify. One moment it was wry amusement, the next it was pain, followed closely by pity – a mix of so many things, Locus didn't see how they could exist together.

"I want what everyone wants. I just want it more…is the answer to your question. Do you?"

Not knowing what he meant, Locus didn't really know how to respond to that, though he received a strange sense of understanding from Sigma's end. When he didn't answer, Gin just shook his head and pointed down the left hand path.

"The cellblock's beyond that door at the end of the hallway. Enjoy your play date. I'll be checking up on Mitch if you need anything," he said before heading in the opposite direction. Locus watched him go for only a moment before heading down the indicated corridor.

If I may, Locus, why the interest in Agent Maine? Sigma asked him as he headed down the corridor.

"Don't you know?" Locus asked aloud, not worried about trying to keep the conversation internal now they were alone. "You've been going through my memories since you made contact."

I understood your intent prior to your final conflict with the simulation troopers – the desire to be something you were not…to reconcile what you were with what you became. Now it is…unclear. Agent Maine still stands as some form of symbol for you…but not of perfection. What is it you hope to gain from him? Sigma pressed, the fire of its insistence burning faintly along each synapse.

"I want to see…I want to know…if it's possible to become human again," he answered.

You're assuming Agent Maine was human to begin with. You've seen his file. More than what my siblings and I attempted to create with him, the man you know as Agent Maine was molded as a living weapon. He was a product of the SPARTAN program. He chose to surrender his humanity in order to become something more. Is that not what you wanted?

"I thought so once," Locus said as he approached the cellblock door. "But you'll have to excuse me if I don't take the things you say about Agent Maine at face value. After all, you tried to control him once."

Control, Locus? No, never. I didn't force him to do anything. Brute force is not in my nature. You see, after what happened to Agent Washington, he had no will left to stop me. He surrendered quite willingly. Without Agent Washington, he had no desire to maintain a human façade. Did it not occur to you that the Meta failed because the original template was an imperfect example of a human being?

Locus froze on the way to key in his access code. If what Sigma was saying had any truth to it, then…what did it mean for him? Another monster playing at being a man…

Answer my question, Locus, Sigma said. The tone was strangely gentle, but Locus could still feel the fiery being burning along the edges of his raw nerves. His hand trembled against the keypad as the faintest impression of a burning gaze reflected itself along the inside of his visor.

"How…how is it you still exist?" Locus asked instead, desperate not to give in to the AI's command – to make the choice whether to answer or not for himself. "All of the records state that Agent Washington destroyed you and the other fragments. How did you survive?"

Heh, do those same records not also include a certificate of death for one Matthias Hawthorne? You mustn't believe everything you read, Locus. Asking me how I survived assumes that I was ever in a position to be destroyed. You know nothing of what happened that day.

"Then tell me," Locus snarled at the voice in his head.

Again came that strange chuffed laugh. I think not, Locus. That is a conversation best kept for later. We're here to speak with Agent Maine, are we not?

Locus took several deep breathes before shaking himself off and keying in his access code. "Yes," he said as the door slid open, allowing him entrance to the block. The moment he was through, the door slid closed again, automatically sealing behind him.

Cell 15, Sigma reported to him, and the former mercenary immediately began to move down the block, counting down the numbers overhead.

Some cells were occupied, many were not. Locus didn't take note of any of the other prisoners, keeping his focus ahead of him – until he reached the desired cell.

As with most cells, this one was fairly nondescript – bare gray walls and a cot to one side. The occupant in question sat in the center of the cell with his back to the energy field that kept him imprisoned.

He was out of armor and dressed in something like a prison uniform, only it was white instead of orange. The reports hardly did the ex-freelancer justice. Even sitting, he was clearly a giant of a man, hard muscle defining every inch of his body. Black hair was beginning to sprout from his shaved head, but the Meta tattoo on the back of his head was still visible. Scars marred his skin in several places and that skin was the pale that came from years of living beneath armor. Locus knew that his own olive coloring was paler for it.

"Good evening, Agent Maine," Sigma said out loud as it materialized next to Locus. The former mercenary saw the way the man's shoulders tensed slightly upon hearing the AI's voice. "I trust you've rested well since your last little escapade."

Maine growled without turning to look at them, and even Locus could recognize the threat in that sound.

"Go away? My apologies, Agent Maine, but I'm afraid I have no power to do that of my own volition."

The ex-agent gave a chuffing sound similar to Sigma's.

"Well…perhaps you're right," the AI said with no small amount of pleasure. "But that's irrelevant just now. Really, I'm just here to act as a translator. So speak as you will. From this point on, I am merely translating what you say."

Maine turned to face them at this point, eyebrows knitting together in mistrustful confusion. He grunted as he got to his feet, giving Locus a perfect view of the ugly scars that covered his neck.

"Who are you?" Sigma translated.

"I am called Locus."

A disturbing gurgling sound escaped the man's ruined throat as his gaze slid to the fiery hologram that flickered at Locus' side.

"Do you know what it is you have in your head?" Sigma asked for him.

"I am aware of the Sigma AI's capabilities, yes. I am also aware of your history, Agent Maine," he said, moving as close to the energy field as he could.

Maine sneered as he let out another chuff. He tilted his head back before nodding at Sigma again, and the AI asked the question, "Mine…or his?"

"Enough of both, though who is to say how much of what I do know is correct, given that you're supposed to be dead."

Maine shook his head, the sneer staying in place as he grunted several times.

"Wash said that, too. How am I supposed to have died?"

"In a skirmish on Sidewinder."

Again, Maine shook his head, a gurgling, hissing sort of sound coming out this time.

"That's impossible. I haven't been back to Sidewinder in thirteen years. Not since…Epsilon and the Break-in."

"Clearly something's not adding up," Locus said with a shake of his own head, "but that isn't why I wanted to see you."

Maine raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, looking expectantly at him.

"Then why?" Sigma interpreted the gesture, and in spite of the AI's supreme control, Locus could feel its own eagerness for the answer.

"I have been…less than a man…these last few years. I want to know…how it is that you made your way back to human. After what the Meta did to you, how did you come back? Have you? How?" he asked, cutting himself off before he could start to ramble.

Maine's shoulders shook as he gave that same chuff of a laugh. Then he hissed several times.

"Has he been telling you I'm not human? That I never was? That I'm just a beast?"

"Something to that effect, yes," Locus answered.

Maine shook his head, glaring at Sigma before beginning to pace the cell. As he moved back and forth, his gaze stayed fixed on Locus. All the while, he growled and hissed emphatically. Ultimately, he came back to the energy field and pounded a fist against it. The force of the contact would've thrown any other man clear across the cell, but Maine remained standing, keeping his fist connected with the field as the energy currents passed painfully through his body. As he stood, taking all that punishment, Sigma remained silent.

"Sigma?" Locus pressed, wishing he could say he hadn't taken a step back at all this. "What's he saying?"

"You know, a long time ago I might have believed that myself," Sigma began to translate, something in its tone clearly rattled. "Even among the Spartans, I had a reputation. I became the monster they needed because there was nothing else I could do. I thought that was all I was. But I learned different from someone I love – someone who loves me. It's not up to them to decide. Your humanity's your own decision to make. What you've done doesn't matter. If there's something worth being human for, that choice is yours. You want to know? You really want to know why I fought to come back?"

When Sigma finally finished speaking, Maine let himself pull away from the energy field. His breathing was heavy and there was a noticeable tremor in his body, but he still stood upright, amber eyes flashing as he surveyed the two of them. And when Locus stepped forward again, he noticed something he hadn't before – a small chunk of some sort of mineral hanging from a leather thong around the ex-freelancer's neck.

"I…I want to know," he said, nodding faintly.

Maine growled quietly as he reached for the pendant, gripping it tightly in his large fist. Locus couldn't be sure, but this new sound had an almost gentle quality to it. His next few growls were similar in tone.

"Love," Sigma filled in when he fell silent. "I fought to get back because there's someone I love. It wasn't easy, but that's worth hanging onto. There are sins we can never repent for, but there isn't a one of us who isn't allowed to love someone. My, my, how poetic," Sigma said, suddenly switching to speaking to the ex-agent instead of for him. "Do you truly believe that, Agent Maine?"

Maine snarled threateningly as he narrowed his eyes at Sigma.

For a moment, Sigma flared brighter, and Locus felt a disconcerting sense of satisfaction from the AI. "Well, perhaps you're right, but it seems to me you would have learned better after our time together."

Maine emitted several ugly growls and hisses at this, eyes growing angrier with each sound. Sigma just laughed again.

"We shall see, Agent Maine."

Locus would have very much liked to know what the former agent was saying, but the moment was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of Agent Kansas in the cellblock.

"Sorry to interrupt your little love fest, Locus, but Gwen sent me to get you. It's happening a little earlier than projected, but it looks like Felix is coming online. She thought you'd like to know."

XxX

After the battle for the Breaking Light, the Reds and Blues fully expected to exit the ship amid a sea of wreckage in order to mourn yet more fallen friends.

While they were not wrong about the sea of wreckage from the partially demolished comm tower, they were all very surprised to be greeted by Kimball and her soldiers, Roxy's men, and the new troupe of freelancers.

"Oh, my God, Kimball! You're alive!" Tucker cheered.

"How were you able to escape the tower in time?" Wash asked.

"Dr. Grey was able to give us the heads up in plenty of time, thank God," the general said. "We were all free and clear before their man even made an appearance. She's on her way here now."

"Good. We're going to need her," Carolina remarked as she surveyed her group. The contingent of doctors were already seeing to the soldiers who'd been blinded on the bridge, but Caboose, Doc, Simmons, Grif, and Donut had wanted to stick with them, so those who could still see were leading the five blind troopers.

"What's the situation look like now?" Kimball asked, hoping for some good news, but clearly resigned to the worst.

"They took Captain Christopher…whoever they are," Wash said, kicking a chunk of rock in frustration. "We now definitely know our aunt's involved somehow…might even be behind all of it. She transmitted to the ship during the fighting."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Kimball said. "That has to be rough."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Carolina bit out. "She wouldn't be the first member of our family to go bad."

"But…I don't understand. Why would they destroy the comm tower if they were just going to bring down the ship anyway?" the general asked.

"It wasn't about bringing the ship down. Gin had them send out a message for engine trouble and set down on Chorus," Carolina explained.

"So we're still stuck without help?" Kimball pressed, voice sounding like it was on the verge of breaking.

"Not necessarily. Supposedly we'll all be free and clear in a month. The siege just ended too early for them," Wash stepped in.

"So that's why they took the captain?" Roxy's lieutenant, Hammond, asked.

"Likely," Carolina answered.

"That won't matter. Even if we can't contact them, Command's going to get suspicious when they don't hear from Jonathan," Roxy put in, still woozy, but mostly recovered from Gin's thrashing. "Only his personal code will tell our superiors that everything's running smoothly. The minute they don't receive it, they'll send reinforcements."

"You don't think these people will torture the information out of him?" Kimball asked.

"No," Roxy said firmly. "Not in enough time for it to make any difference, at least. This was over before it started."

"I don't know about that," Wash said, glancing in Carolina's direction. Even without being able to see her face, he knew she was looking at him.

"Kansas?"

"Right."

"What?" Roxy asked, glancing between the two freelancers. "What's wrong?"

"Agent Kansas, one of the people holding Maine and Christopher. This was the sort of thing she was good at. She didn't need to torture information out of people because she already had it," Carolina began to explain. "Kansas is…insanely intelligent, genius level, even. If she can get enough information about a person, she can pretty much read them like a book. If she's been able to dig up anything on your captain, it's a good bet she's already worked out any code he's ever used. If anything, they took him so he wouldn't be able to contradict her ruse."

"And if we try and make contact on our own, these guys could easily just kill their hostages," Roxy muttered. "Dammit!"

"So it's better not to count on any more help from the UNSC," Wash said quietly. "Just like always…it looks like we're on our own."

"Well…not completely on your own," a new but familiar voice joined the conversation. Those who could looked up to see the latest gang of freelancers join them.

"My God, CO," Carolina started in a voice that could've almost been fond. "How are you even still alive?"

"Call it a promise. That's why we're here," he said as he moved forward to embrace the younger agent. Tucker, Sarge, and even Kimball were all stunned when she actually allowed it. It was followed by another hug for Wash.

"Suddenly feel I should be scared to death of the man the freelancers let give 'em a hug," Sarge said. "Should be, don't plan to be, but consider yourself complimented, whoever you are."

"Okay, seriously, who the fuck are the new guys?" Grif demanded, even though he couldn't see them.

"My name is Ben Walker," CO introduced himself. "But during the freelancer days, they called me CO. Go with whichever one suits you. I'll answer to either."

"Question?" Dee suddenly stepped in. "Is there any point in making introductions when half of you can't actually see us?"

"Just tell us what the damage is. How many new freelancers are there?" Simmons asked in a resigned voice.

"Including me, there are five of us," CO answered.

"Fucking Christ, is there some kind of freelancer convention going on here that nobody told us about?" Grif asked. "I would like it known that I'd very much enjoy stomping angrily away at this point, but the whole blindness thing makes that kind of hard."

"Seriously, what the hell's with this shit? Aren't these helmets supposed to filter excess light output?" Simmons asked.

"Freelancer equipment," Carolina explained. "The flare was designed to burst at an intensity that bypasses the helmet's system. Pretty sure it'll be an easy fix for Emily, but in the middle of a fight, it's a hard blow. Only a few of the suits were ever integrated with flare filters, so it didn't see a lot of use back in the day."

"On that subject, how many of you guys still have your enhancements?" Wash asked CO. "We're gonna need as much fire power as we can get."

"Well, as you saw, Missie still has the paralytic stings," CO started.

"Uh, saw?" Grif pointed out in annoyance.

"I have a paralytic delivery system threaded through my bodysuit's network," the former agent took up the explanation. "If the pads of my fingers make contact with skin or another bodysuit, micro hypodermic needles in the material will pierce my target and deliver the toxin directly to their bloodstream. In the short term, the toxin acts as a paralyzing agent, but if I hold on too long…that can be fatal," Missie finished with a shrug.

"Why do you sound like you're smiling when you say that?" Doc asked nervously.

"Uh, yeah, you can go ahead and introduce yourself. I'd like to know which psycho freelancer to avoid touching when I can see again," Grif put in.

"Elsie McKenna," the crimson-armored ex-agent answered. "But I was Missie way back when."

"Agent Mississipi?" Donut guessed, and Wash didn't even need to see Missie's face to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Why does everyone guess that first? I was Missouri, thank you very much," she said with an unmistakable toss of her armored head.

"Although you wouldn't have to worry about touching her," her AI partner said as she shimmered into being next to her head. "The system only deploys when we want it to. That's my job," the little AI said proudly.

"Now who's this one?" Sarge asked.

"My name is Chi," she announced, and if Theta was childlike, Chi was more teenlike. She was composed of indigo light threaded through with shades of yellow and she appeared as a young woman in a body suit with short hair.

"Y'know what? Screw it," Grif groaned. "Let's just get these introductions over with while we wait for the psycho doc."

"You called?" Doc asked in the O'Malley voice.

"No!" the Reds and Blues all snapped as one.

"Dunno if you remember this, but you kinda lost that designation when you ran from Dr. Grey," Simmons pointed out. "She's the psycho doc now. You're just…psycho."

"So what is it we're doing exactly?" Nebraska was the one to finally ask. "Introductions or accounting for enhancements?"

"No reason why we can't do both at the same time," Carolina said. "CO, do you still have Lambda?"

"Right here!" the peach-colored AI chirped as she appeared at her partner's shoulder, waving at everyone. "And the temperature manipulators are still up and running."

"Temperature manipulators?" Tucker asked.

"The manipulators are another tactile enhancement," CO started to explain. "Upon contact with a suit, they can induce either hotter or colder temperatures within its network, bypassing its own control systems. The enhancement was designed more for…interrogation purposes than anything else."

"He can control the weather?" Caboose asked no one in particular. "Oh, my God! He's a mutant! That is so awesome! Are all the freelancers mutants? Was Project Freelancer secretly a school for mutants?"

"Okay, getting back on track," Wash said, grabbing hold of Caboose before the Blue could start moving and crashing into things. When he glanced back at CO, he saw that their former commander had tilted his head curiously to the side as he surveyed the off-balanced Blue trooper. When he remained silent, Sarge was the one to pick up the slack.

"Is it just me, or does the power to adjust the thermostat seem a little less than badass?"

"Granted," CO said, shaking his head several times as he pulled his attention away from Caboose. "But the better enhancements went to the freelancers at the top of the leader board. The rest of us received the more experimental tech…the more…"

"Dangerous," Iowa supplied when he didn't finish. "The concussive actuators, for example. They can do a great deal of damage, but by extension, they'll do great harm to their operator, so it's better not to use them unless it's absolutely necessary. Del will most certainly pay for the use of them in the time it takes him to recover."

"And you are?" Sarge asked.

"Meg Landry. Agent Iowa."

"And do you still have Rho?" Wash asked her.

"No, but that's only because I gave both her and the wide cover camo unit to Jonah before they arrested me," she said, nodding at Nebraska, who offered them all a small wave as the violet and lavender AI in question manifested beside him.

"Like she said, name's Jonah. Jonah Katsuragi. I was Agent Nebraska…for the brief time I was with the project anyway."

"Arrested?" Wash asked Iowa. "Seems like most everyone else was able to avoid it. How were you the only one of us arrested?" he asked, having trouble picturing the kindly den mother of the project in a cell.

"That's…a fairly long story, but it's the reason we've been on the run all this time, even though you all received full pardon," she answered.

"You don't mean you…" Carolina started.

"Sorta busted her out," Dee supplied when Carolina didn't finish.

"And there's the fifth one," Donut said jovially. "Who might you be?"

"Might?" Dee asked with a snicker. "I might be Diana Carson, or I might be Agent Indiana. Either way, I'm definitely Dee, and I don't think I need to tell you all that I still have the phase whip," she finished, resting her hand on the weapon.

"So which came first? The whip or the codename? Y'know, because-" Tucker started, but before he could finish, Dee unfurled the whip with an angry snap.

"Finish the sentence," she challenged. "I dare you. Find out what happens."

Most sane people wouldn't have taken the challenge from a clearly armed and pissed off ex-special ops agent, but no one had ever accused the Blood Gulch gang of being sane by any reasonable standards, and Tucker in particular had never known when to stop where a member of the opposite sex was concerned.

"Because of the whole Indiana Jones thing."

Tucker barely had a chance to finish the sentence. The whip snapped across the space between them and wrapped around his neck. Dee pulled back hard and dragged the aqua trooper forward, bringing him to his knees in front of her.

"Jesus Christ, lady! What the hell?" Tucker near shrieked.

"Know why it's called a phase whip, Tucker?" she asked, her tone dripping with poisoned honey.

"Do I want to?" he squeaked.

"It's because the matter it's composed of can change from moment to moment. It phase shifts. With a little nudge from Phi, this whip can become a plasma laser, or sprout metal thorns, really anything I can think of to make your death painful, slow, and humiliating," she said with relish, giving another yank and pulling him just that little bit closer.

"Oh, God! Aren't any of you assholes gonna help me?!" Tucker half-shrieked, not daring to even touch the whip for fear it might just catch fire.

"Mm, nope," Carolina hummed as she casually crossed her arms.

"Tucker, even you have to admit…you asked for that one," Wash said, trying not to laugh as he shook his head. Dee wouldn't kill him. Of course she wouldn't, but it was nice to see a freelancer having a little fun for a change.

"You guys suck!"

Dee laughed as she pushed Tucker to the ground and placed a booted foot on his chest. "Phi, you can go ahead and disengage," she said.

"Disengaging," her AI partner said as he appeared over her shoulder, and whatever form the whip had taken that allowed it to latch onto Tucker's throat was released and the weapon fell away, harmless. Dee laughed again as she curled the whip up and strapped it to her hip. Then she crouched down low over Tucker, shoving his shoulder a little more forcefully into the ground.

"Anything else you want to say…Captain?"

"Uh…is it possible to piss your pants and come at the same time?" Tucker wondered out loud. "Cuz I'm pretty sure that just happened. Sorta just…"

"Came and went?" Dee suggested. "Don't think that is possible, but I'll take it."

"I bet you would. Bow-chicka-bow-OW!" the Blue trooper cried out in pain as she slammed her head against his, leaving him dazed on the ground as she got to her feet. "Ungh…d'I just get laid?" he mumbled.

"You wish," Dee said as she shook her head.

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much, Indiana," Phi said, his aqua energy signature briefly coloring crimson.

"Damn straight, I did. He had it coming," Dee said with a nod.

"Oh, you have no idea," Carolina said as she shook her head.

"Hey? Miss freelancer lady?" Caboose suddenly started, waving to get Dee's attention. "Can you make the phase thing turn into a licorice whip?"

Dee slowly turned to look at the youngest sim trooper, her head tilting to the side in clear confusion. "The fuck?"

"Well, you said you could make it turn into anything. That seems like it might be a bad thing to say if you can't make it turn into a licorice whip. So can you make it turn into a licorice whip?" the Blue asked again.

"He's being completely serious, Dee," Wash explained when the ex-agent couldn't seem to come up with a response. "You may as well answer him seriously."

"You know…I've honestly never tried," Dee finally answered. "We might just have to experiment with that sometime."

"Yay! Candy!" Caboose shouted, firing a round of confetti into the air. Wash had to grab him again before he could run off and get himself hurt.

"All right. Now that we all know each other, think maybe it's about time we all got on the same page?" Kimball asked the group.

"I have a question" Rho started, flickering to the center of the group. "The AI controlling Mitch's body…who was he? I don't remember him." If it was possible for a holographic projection of an artificial mind to shudder, it almost seemed that she did, no doubt remembering the effect Omicron had had on her.

"That's going to be another long story. None of the Epsilon fragments remember him either," Carolina said.

"I'm sorry. Epsilon fragments?" CO repeated.

"And looks like there are going to be a lot of pages to catch up on," Wash said with a sigh. It was bothersome and it was going to slow down the search for Maine, but it would have to be slogged through. After all, their old teammates would definitely be of help in the fight against whatever this new threat was. Besides, CO and Gwen were old friends. Maybe CO knew a little more about what his aunt was up to here? "How much do you know about the Chorus civil war?"

XxX

"Locus…what are you doing? You were supposed to kill them!"

What…what's…

"No. No more killing."

I don't…Locus…

"What are you talking about? You're a soldier. Remember?"

That was all you wanted. I created a world where that could be your truth. You never minded that before.

"I'm not a soldier. I'm a monster…like you."

What…what are you saying? I'm not…don't look at me like that.

"Locus, we're- partners…survivors! W-we need each other. What about our orders? Our reward? Becoming the ultimate weapon?"

No. That's not true. You don't need me. You never needed me. I was the one who needed you.

"I'm not doing this for the reward. I'm not doing this because somebody told me to. I'm doing this for me."

I did this for you, too. I did what I had to to keep you…because I need you…I need you in order to live. I did what I had to…because I knew…I always knew…that the minute you figured out you could do fucking galaxies better than trash like me…the minute you understood that, I'd lose you. I couldn't take it…so I did what I had to…and damn you for not understanding!

"Then you can die with the rest of them."

I SAID DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!

Then it's just despair – despair and hurt and anger and knowing and accepting as he falls. He'd known this would happen. He's always known…but that doesn't make the pain of it any less. The pain of being splattered against the rocks like so many rotten tomatoes is minor compared with the pain of that final silence from his partner. That loss is mortal – and it seems he gets to go on feeling it forever. He's dead, but he just goes on dying, goes on falling and crashing and obliterating, all while every atom of his being screams at the loss of the only thing that ever mattered – the thing he gave up his humanity for.

"Only one of you needs the other to survive."

No one ever said being pulled back through hell would be easy. What Dr. Gwen Dorokhov had hoped to spare Locus the knowledge of was the fact that due to her methods, each memory and thought process would be preserved intact. The memory of death would be imprinted upon the new conscience, and whether the AI could deal with the trauma of that would determine whether or not it would survive.

So, as his code flared to life with the memory of what no living being could possibly remember, with everything he was, the artificial intelligence construct Felix was screaming.

XxX

(A/N) Well…can't let Felix off the hook too easy, now can I. Also…I wrote Locus…with Sigma in his head. What the fuck is wrong with me? :(

So next time around, we'll be learning more about what actually happened on board the Staff of Charon, along with more of what Gwen's plans might actually be. As for when that update is coming, on that I can unfortunately make no promises, but I will get to it. There's just some Supernatural fic that wants my attention at the moment…along with some bodily functions, like sleep. Until next we meet, dear readers, adieu.