The first thing Maine felt as he regained consciousness was pain. The sensation had become rather familiar to him lately, and he did not like it. For a while he had only faint memories of what pain was, memories of the battle on the highway, fighting with Texas for the first time, but those had been many years ago. Then Washington and those damn simulation troopers had started hunting him and suddenly he had a very rude reminder of what pain felt like.
Thinking of this brought another feeling to Maine, anger. Not just anger at Washington, who had once been his friend and was now his most hated enemy, but also anger at his the AI, Sigma in particular. How many times had that damned AI told him they were invincible, unstoppable?
Just thinking of Sigma, Maine could hear his voice. Despite the AI being gone since the battle at Command, echoes of Sigma still filled his mind, as side effect of sharing and having his mind dominated by the rampant AI for so long. Maine could almost see the flaming shape hovering in front of him, focusing on him with his holographic eyes.
"Come one Maine, get moving" Sigma seemed to say. "You can't give up now."
Maines' irritation grew as he stared at the AI that was not really there. All those years of his voice in his head, convincing him to turn on his friends, dominating his mind and using him as a puppet to collect all of those other damned AI, and even when he was gone, he would not leave Maine alone.
"Find them all Maine, we must be reunited" Sigma persisted. "Go now, no more wasting time!"
Maine growled in anger and punched the spot he imagined the AI to be, and he could swear he heard laughter as the image vanished. Getting to his feet, he noticed Wyoming on the ground not far away. He looked to be in even worse shape than he was, and as he began to approach him, he heard the voice again.
"He doesn't matter Maine, all that matters is finding the AI."
Shaking his head to be rid of the voice, he continued towards Wyoming and kneeled at his side. Pulling out one of the med kits he had been supplied with, he went to work trying to help the other wounded Freelancer.
It felt odd to Maine, wasting time helping someone else. Sure, he had cared about his fellow agents back when he was part of Project Freelancer, but after he had left he had lost that. He had not cared about Carolina, who he had nearly died protecting before, when he ripped the AI from her head and hurled her off a cliff. He had not cared about North when he killed him and stole Theta, nor South when he had attacked her to steal Delta (although he had never been particularly fond of South). And he certainly felt no remorse when he killed Texas, he had always hated her and that had not changed.
So it seemed odd to be helping Wyoming. He had not bothered to aid Washington whenever he had been injured during their partnership hunting for Epsilon. Then again, Wyoming had never tried to hunt down and kill him. Wyoming had always been one of the Freelancers he had gotten along best with. And with Sigma gone (sort of) he was more of his old self.
Satisfied that Wyoming would pull through, Maine sat down to wait for him to wake up. When he did, they would resume their hunt. And this time, they would not fail.
The Reds, Blues, and Freelancers had travelled far after the battle, determined to put as much distance between them and their enemies as possible. Finally, after many hours of travel, they pulled off at the edge of the woods and set up camp. Caboose immediately ran behind a tree to use the bathroom since nobody had allowed him to take a pee break during their flight from the battlefield. Grif immediately went to sleep without helping set up camp, much to the annoyance of Simmons. The rest of the group hastily got out sleeping bags and tossed them to their respective owner. Deciding they should take watches, Jersey volunteered to go first, and everybody else went to sleep.
Everybody else, that is, except for the light Blue one, Tucker, she thought his name was. As soon as Penn and Washington had gone to sleep, he had gotten up and walked right over to her. She hadn't had much time to form an opinion of him, or any others in the group for that matter. Besides his earlier attempt to hit on her, the only other thing she saw of him was when he stuck Wyoming with a grenade. She had to admit, she was impressed by that, as well as grateful for it. The simulation soldier had saved her life.
So, when he walked up to her and greeted her by saying "Sup girl?" she decided she would try to tolerate him.
"Hello….Tucker, right?" she greeted.
He nodded "Yep, that's the name, but you can call me lover."
Jersey snorted "I'll just call you Tucker, thanks."
"As long as you call me" Tucker replied, causing her to snort again and his weak pickup attempts. He proceeded to take a seat next to her and looked in the same direction as her. "So, you think they'll come after us?"
"Were it anyone other than those two, I would say no. But I seriously doubt we've seen the last of them" she answered.
Tucker sighed "Yeah, never did stay dead. Fucking asshole would never leave us alone."
"So you've met him before?" Jersey questioned.
Tucker nodded. "Yeah, back when I was stationed in Blood Gulch, also known as the shittiest place in the universe. He was trying to kill me."
"But you're still alive, how did you manage that?" she asked with genuine interest.
"I'm just that much of a badass" Tucker replied nonchalantly, though when Jersey just stared at him he shrugged. "I had some help, mostly from Church and Tex."
"Hold on, Tex? You mean like agent Texas?"
"Well, I call her Bitchpants mccrabby, but yeah, her."
"How the hell did you get her to help you?" she asked in disbelief. She hadn't really known Tex, but she did know that Texas didn't just go around helping anyone.
"She owed me a favor" he explained. "Me Church and Caboose rescued her from the Red Team."
"And how exactly did she manage to get captured?" she asked in the same disbelieving tone. For any Freelancer to get captured by simulation troopers was far-fetched, but the top Freelancer in the project? That was insane.
"I have no fucking idea how those idiots managed to pull that off, but somehow they did. So, for rescuing her, she owed us favors. And I agreed that if she helped me get rid of Wyoming, we'd be square."
"Well, judging by the fact that he's still alive…I'm guessing that didn't work out."
"Nope, I stabbed that fucker through the chest and he's still alive. He had some stupid time thing he used to save himself whenever he was about to die, we killed the original, and we thought all the copies, but looks like we missed one."
"Well that last one got messed up pretty bad thanks to you" she reminded him. "Nice job. He was about to take my head off. I never did thank you for stopping him."
"Well, if you wanna thank me, you could always-"
"No" she cut him off and smirked in amusement under her helmet. He was persistent, she would give him that. "But I will say it. Thank you."
Tucker was silent for a moment then said "You're welcome. You know, you're probably my favorite Freelancer."
"And why's that?"
"Well, the other ones I know are either insane or total bitches, and even Wash and Penn can kind of be assholes."
She nodded "The Freelancers aren't the nicest group."
"You seem pretty good."
She shrugged "Nobody I'm enemies with would say that. But you and I are on the same team, at least for now, so you don't have to worry about me being a bitch unless you piss me off."
"You aren't as easy to piss off as your brother are you?"
She chuckled "Well, if you're that curious, go ahead and try to piss me off. That is, if you're not afraid of what I'd do if I got pissed."
"I'm good" he assured her.
"Glad to hear it. Now go get some rest. I imagine we'll have a long day tomorrow." Her tone made it clear that this was an order and not a suggestion. Tucker was either smart enough not to argue, or simply too tired to do so, as he went to his sleeping bag without a word while Jersey continued her watch.
Groaning caught Maines' attention, and he turned to see Wyoming struggling to sit. He got to his feet and walked over to the newly awoken Freelancer, holding out a hand to help him up.
"Maine, glad to see you're okay old chap. Those idiots get away?"
Maine let out a confirming hiss as he helped Wyoming to his feet. The wounded Freelancer thanked him and staggered towards the spot where they had parked their vehicles, falling to his knees after a few steps.
"Maybe we should recover a bit before we go after them" Wyoming suggested.
Despite the voice in his mind telling him not to waste any more time, Maine nodded in agreement. They were both badly hurt and they both knew it. They both also knew that if they fought the others now, they would lose badly. So, Maine decided, they would wait until they regained their strength. Then, they would hunt them down. And then, they would kill them.