A/N: Here's chapter 10 people! I hope this goes over well, but you can never be too certain. Don't worry; I haven't forgotten that this is supposed to be a dumb humor fic. Even if the last few chapters have had more serious implications.

Paradox Effect

Summary: Dying sucked. Dying and being killed by the same teammate again? That sucked even more. Dying and being thrown back into Blood Gulch as a girl? That REALLY sucked. Now, Leona Church will have to put up with Tucker's perverted looks, Caboose's stupidity, and worst of all, Tex's laughter…

*Chapter 10*

Agent York pulled his shotgun from his back as the Pelican dropship he was on started to descend towards the desert canyon below. It looked completely desolate save for a pair of training bases used by Project Freelancer in the past and the tan and white Freelancer undid the harness keeping him strapped in the seat. 'Texas…'

He let out a frustrated sigh and checked the weapon. It was loaded with six powerful eight gauge shells that would put a giant hole through the armor plating on a Warthog and kill anyone it hit within seconds. However it was no good for medium to long range combat and as a precaution he brought along a battle rifle. While he wasn't an expert with the weapon, he was competent enough with one to be able to use it effectively should the need to arise.

He didn't anticipate any trouble, but it never hurt to be careful. Especially if took his objective into consideration; he didn't know if Tex's mental state had deteriorated even more since their failure of a rescue mission. For all he knew, she'd attack him on sight.

'Please. I'm not that fucking lucky.' York scoffed bitterly and stood up from his seat as the dropship began to lower down to one of the circular metal buildings. An M808B Main Battle Tank was parked outside, though on further inspection it didn't look like it was in working condition; half of it was dismantled and parts were strewn all over the sand, meaning someone was actively attempting to repair the Scorpion class tank. There was only one person he could think of who'd go out of their way to try and repair what was the UNSC's definition of divine intervention, and that was Agent Texas.

'Looks the information the Director gave me was right. Fucking prick.' York hated the man with every fiber of his being for what he did to Carolina, but right now the Director was the only thing currently preventing him from spending the rest of his life looking at iron bars.

The dropship extended its landing gear and York jumped down to take his first steps on Blood Gulch, his shotgun in hand. He motioned for the pilot to go on and take off and he performed a quick sweep of the area. There wasn't a single trace of movement in sight and he lowered his weapon, carrying it as he made his way over to the base.

Several blue flags hung from the walls of the fort and he could safely assume that this was the Blue Base. 'Well, my search sure as shit got a lot easier.' He only had to take a look around this area, which was fine by him. "Delta, are we alone out here?"

A light green hologram of a soldier in basic Mark V armor flickered to life near York's right shoulder and it shook its head. "Negative, Agent York. Radar indicates four friendlies and one enemy contact within thirty meters of us. I suggest you complete your objective as soon as possible so we can report back to the Director."

Delta was always the intellectual of the AI fragments used in Project Freelancer. He was always running analytics and theories regardless of the time of day, using outstanding logic and reasoning to get his results. Sometimes, York really hated that he was always so scientific and wanted him to loosen the fuck up once in a while. Sadly, due to his nature, that was something that was never going to happen.

"No, Delta," he said with a defeated sigh. "I have zero intentions of following through with the Director's orders. It wasn't Tex's fault and you know that, D. I have too much to talk to her about." 'She doesn't deserve to die. She did what we thought was right at the time. And even all these years later, I still think she was.'

"Agent York, you are aware that disobeying the Director's orders will lead to you being a wanted—"

"I'm aware, Delta," York cut him off with an irritated growl, his teeth gnashing. "I fucking know. And you know something? I don't give a shit what the Director thinks. He can go to hell for all I care. I need to talk to her, D."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you need to talk to Agent Texas? You have no idea if Omega's rampancy has corrupted her mind and possibly permanently damaged her mental state. For all we know, the Agent Texas we knew is no longer alive," Delta replied. That fucking monotone voice was going to drive York nuts one day. Couldn't he be a little more sympathetic from time to time?

'Fuck no he couldn't. Asshole.' York approached the nearest window to check what was going on inside and his jaw promptly hit the floor. "No way. Delta, is this an illusion of some kind? Or is what I'm seeing actually real?"

The scene currently before him made him doubt everything he actually knew about Tex. The blonde woman was currently on top of another blue haired woman making out with her, tugging the straps that bound her hands with an amused smirk on her face. "What's the matter, Leona~? Can't handle being dominated?"

'Holy shit. No fucking way, man. I heard the rumors from Massa and Wash, but I never thought they were actually real. I figured they were just fucking with me.'

The two women continued their makeout session and York soon started to feel very uncomfortable in his armor. Specifically his crotch area and he nervously shifted around as to not get part of his anatomy pinched. 'Well…I can certainly say I didn't fucking expect this. Didn't ever take Tex to be into bondage, either. Guess I learn something new every day.'

He coughed to regain his composure, his implant burning a little as Delta started to grow irritated with him. "Delta, stop being an asshole."

"Unlike you, Agent York, I do not take pleasure on spying on people during actions of extreme intimacy," Delta shot back.

"Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up. You've spent way too much time talking to Wash."

Days like this really made him ever agreeing to undergo AI implantation.

He wasn't sure whether or not to intrude considering his 'mission', but he didn't get a chance to really dwell on that thought because he felt someone tapping on his shoulder. The Freelancer turned around, shotgun ready to blast whoever touched him to pieces, only to see a soldier in aqua armor raise his finger to his lips.

"Shush, dude! Don't give us away! Been wanting to see this shit for days!"

York heard Delta sigh in his head and he knew he was definitely going to need a beer or twenty after today.

A/N: Another shortie, but meh. I don't really care too much about chapter length for this fic. It's meant to be short like this. A few chapters might end up longer, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

C. Strife#5371