(AN) - It's been awhile since our last update, but we're not gone yet. While Nick is preparing something special for the future of one of our other 'verses, Mina is back with boots on the ground from Phase One. Thanks to all of our reviewers!

Battle Brothers

Agent Alaska

Written by Minaethiel

"There are ways you can trust an enemy you can't always trust a friend. An enemy's never going to betray your trust."

- Daniel Abraham, The Dragon's Path

"Need I remind you, Penn, that we are down here to investigate and not pummel everyone we see?"

"Well, Al, considering these idiots are getting in the way of investigating, I'm not inclined to leave them in one piece."

The pair had been sent back to the ruins of the armour-producing factory they'd blown up as a kind of insurance policy to make sure no suits - even damaged ones - were recovered from the rubble. Alaska figured the Director had picked the pair because they'd known the layout of the base by heart. He figured Penn saw it as another chance to improve his standing on the board. No matter what either of them saw it as, they had a job to do, and when they'd arrived on site and found URF goons digging through the rubble, both of them performed an encore of their previous expedition. An encore that, of course, led to a pile of bodies that weren't all killed by bullets. As it turned out, dropping the men up top did not get rid of the problem growing below ground in the ruins.

Al had taken up a sentry position as soon as Penn had knelt to retrieve the datapad off of one of the soldiers. When the blue Freelancer tossed it away, Al knew he'd finished searching for whatever it was he needed.

"Looks like we get have another chance to blow this place away, Al. The URF sent a small force here to excavate what they could and try to salvage any research. They want to restart production at another undisclosed facility if they manage to find anything here. Personally, I'd rather not deal with anymore of those sorry ass copycats."

Indeed, Al had not been a fan either. Taking down just two of them had been a colossal waste of time; an army of them? Not something the crimson Freelancer had the desire to deal with.

"Where is the tunnel entrance, Penn?"

The behemoth cracked his knuckles before throwing a waypoint up on their shared comms. Alaska knew that point. He distinctly remembered Penn helping him up off the ground. The entrance the URF had chosen to go through had been the tunnel that they had used to escape the base as it crumbled around them. The charges either weren't as strong as they thought, or the base had been sturdier on that side. Either way, the lack of a complete collapse had come back to bite them in the ass.

"Let's get moving. Maine wants to have another go in the training room and I want to be warmed up when we get back."

"You mean you actually relax sometimes? I'm shocked," Alaska quipped as he began to jog towards the waypoint.

"Bite me."

The simple two-word response was dry, but Alaska thought he could detect the barest twinges of amusement in it. True to form, only very rarely did either of them actually let themselves relax. Penn was always vying for that coveted one next to his name, and Alaska, as a rule, never let himself fall below a set of standards he kept for himself. As a result, the pair rarely enjoyed the casual bonding the rest of the Freelancers took part in. The only bond they needed was the bond of war and the burden that came with it. The feeling of knowing that they were death incarnate, and most people lived or died by their will when they were let off the leash. The other Freelancers didn't understand it. But Penn embraced it and ran with it. Perhaps, Alaska thought, that was the reason he and Penn worked in tandem so well. A greater sense of being than the others. An acceptance that they were weapons.

Whatever it was, the two of them stalked to where the entrance the URF had cleared was, making sure to keep to the perimeter so they didn't fall into any pitfalls. Whatever guards that had once been guarding the facility entrance were now gone, courtesy of Penn and Alaska's entrance onto the scene. Instead of a door, they were faced with a gaping maw, the interspersed temporary lights along the excavated path doing little to chase away the darkness that threatened to swallow them whole. Penn swung the shotgun off of his back and cocked it, the sound echoing through the corridor ominously. Alaska followed suit with his battle rifle, the flip of the safety a far cry quieter than that of his companion's weapon.

"We've got two options, Al: the surgical way or the havoc way. Your pick."

Al hummed in thought.

"Why not cause some havoc? We're all children of chaos after all."

"Right, whatever you say. Let's get this done."

As one, they began their dash through the base, carnage following in their wake. Penn was having some difficulties manoeuvering thanks to his height versus that of the ceiling, but Alaska more than made up for it, becoming a veritable whirlwind of destruction against enemies Penn couldn't get through to. On one such occasion, the two Freelancers got cornered down a dead end, six soldiers preventing them from leaving. The hallway leading out was not large enough for the two men to charge side by side, and the ceiling was too low for Penn to properly manoeuver. For Alaska, however...

Feeling like he was the deliverer of death on swift wings, the Freelancer tossed Penn his battle rifle and pulled out his pistol and knife, charging the group.

"Duck!"

He instantly dove and tucked into a roll as two bursts of fire went over him. The choked cry of one of their attackers told Alaska that Penn had downed the first of them, and as he finished his roll and started to run, he saw that she'd been quick on the draw with an assault rifle. Not quick enough, but credit where it was due. The other five ambushes drew their weapons and began firing a mere second before Alaska reached then, and he felt a few bullets bank off of his armor. One found a chink and lodged itself just under his shoulder, earning a grimace beneath his helmet. But after that it didn't matter, as the red warrior reached his foes and engaged. One pistol shot disarmed a man who was turning to aim his weapon. His shout was silenced as another burst of fire from Penn brought him down. A third man fell victim to Alaska's blade, the Freelancer slashing it across his chest and stabbing it back through his heart. His pistol was knocked from his hand when the fourth guy landed a solid punch to his wrist, and he retaliated with his own gauntleted fist, the sound of glass and bone smashing as his fist sailed through the man's shoddy visor, creating a sick symphony as he screamed in pain. A three burst volley from his back told him Penn had had another opening, which followed as a another body hit the floor.

"Al, ammo!"

Grabbing the guy he had punched and throwing him into his last remaining comrade, Alaska ripped a magazine off of his belt and tossed it to the blue-armoured behemoth, barely hearing as the spent mag hit the cement floor. His attention had returned to the men recovering on the floor. He threw his knife into the dazed man he had punched earlier and picked up his lost pistol, ending the last man with a single shot. He retrieved his knife and wiped the blood off of it before returning it to its sheath, and reloaded his pistol. Heavy footsteps announced Penn's arrival as he held Alaska's battle rifle out for him. Taking it, he placed the pistol back on his thigh to bring the rifle to a combat friendly position.

"Nice cover fire, for a brute."

"Not bad close quarters work, for a ballerina."

Snorting at the reference to one of their training room bouts, they continued on. Only one last group opposed them, leaving the pair to plant the charges they'd brought without further harassment. Alaska blew the charges, collapsing what they had dug out. The URF hadn't even made it to the production facility. The ride back was spent in companionable silence, neither man feeling the need to say much of anything. With Penn, there was never a need.

Alaska didn't think there would ever be a need.