(A/N) Welcome back to Interphase, with another misadventure from Colorado and her squad, written by our mightily powered Mina!

Likely Allies; Unlikely Friends

Agent Colorado

Written by Minaethiel

"There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them."

-J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Wyoming sometimes had good ideas. Sometimes. His latest one had been squad training; pitting us against one another in an effort to increase our combat capabilities against any number of foes. Today, Wyoming had elected to put 'Sota and me against each other, which, quite honestly, was second only to being slotted against Neb. 'Sota didn't make idiotic jokes mid-match like Wyoming. He didn't make me feel like a hunted animal like Alaska did. He didn't ever make me feel like an inevitable chew toy like Cal did. And he sure as hell didn't make me feel like a walking bruise like Maine did. 'Sota was just 'Sota. Focused on winning, and he didn't treat it like a game. Just how I liked it. Especially when we were using lethal rounds.

Well, sort of.

The Danger Room had all kinds of neat little tricks, and the holographic bullets we had felt just like the real deal, as I'd found out when the other Freelancer had punched a hole straight through my armour with an SRS round to my side. Thankfully it had passed straight through, but I still felt that pain as bitingly as the real thing. Blood, hot and sticky, was steadily streaming from it, and I didn't need to see my own vitals to know that the wound would eventually kill me, and I didn't want that to happen before I took down 'Sota. Unfortunately, the bastard was proving to be elusive, as per usual. It had to be a sniper thing to conceal oneself so well. Sure, we'd all had the training for basic stealth operations, but marksmen took it to an entirely new level. I had a vague idea where 'Sota had shot me from, but I knew he would have moved after the first shot. The terrain we'd been placed in was mountainous and rocky. A typical mountain valley. Plenty of trees for cover, sure, but also plenty of perches to get the drop on anybody else. From how the bullet had hit me, 'Sota had been above me, and I was hoping to manoeuvre around and get a better view, hopefully through the canopy of trees. They were bursting with color, making it that much harder to differentiate anything that could be out of place. I supposed it was a blessing that Alaska, the session's babysitter, had thought to give some form of camouflage in the form of the flora. As he had glaring red armour, I could understand why he pushed the necessity of taking advantage of one's surroundings.

Too bad I didn't have a target to press any advantage against.

Even worse, I was actually at a disadvantage if 'Sota was actively trying to track me. Despite my best efforts to staunch the bleeding from my wound, drips were still falling onto the ground and brushing against leaves. It wasn't for lack of trying that my efforts to conceal a trail were being dashed, so much as it was becoming harder to think straight. I needed to find a cache of supplies that would hopefully have biofoam. That would at least solve the bleeding out problem.

A rustle of bushes behind me had my hand fly from my side to my gun in an instant as I whirled around to face whatever was stalking me. A low growl emitted from the foliage, and the biggest cat I had ever seen stalked forth. Its paws alone had to have been at least a foot long, and I didn't want to think about how long those claws were. But the part I was most worried was the jaws that looked like they could rend through my armour like it was nothing but an oversized can. At least five inch long fangs. 'Sota rapidly became the least of my worries as I squeezed the trigger of my DMR, each shot pelting towards the giant cat. With astonishing speed it pelted back into the bushes, but I didn't think I'd scared it off so much as pissed it off. Even worse, I'd given away my position.

A flash of black announced that the cat was returning, and I rapidly realized that staying in one place was suicidal. I needed to find a place that gave me somewhat of an advantage against the beast.

"Alaska, you piece of shit!" I yelled over the radio, not caring that 'Sota was on the same frequency. "Animals? Really?"

"The point of these exercises, Colorado, is to hone your skills to be able to adapt to any situation. If that means sending rabid animals after you, then so be it. Better figure out how to survive the next few seconds."

And with that, Alaska cut off to, I assume, go back to watching my grisly demise. Prick. I thought I heard 'Sota chuckle over the radio, which only made me more irritated, but all thoughts of killing the both of them fled my mind as the cat Alaska had sent after me exploded from behind a tree. I shot four more times, the bullets, to my horror, peppering its hide. Holy shit, what is this thing made out of? Fucking titanium? It leapt towards me, and in a moment of either pure stupidity or pure brilliance, I leapt towards and under its pounce, whipping out my SMG quickly to fire on its exposed belly. That earned a shriek of rage as it rapidly turned around and flashed a paw out, catching me in the head and throwing me down the hill I'd just climbed. My visor shattered, and I shut my eyes against the sudden assault of glass. My flight came to a jarring halt as I felt myself slam into something hard, and I groaned. Everything hurt. So much for walking away without feeling like a human bruise. I shook my helmet off and opened my eyes, unsurprised to see that the device was totaled. At least in the simulation it was. My cheek was on fire too, and I assumed the claws had gotten through. Damn. I looked up at the hill to see the cat pelting down towards me. With little time to think, I pulled a grenade off of my belt and clicked the pin. The cat still came, black pelt flashing under the setting sun so that it looked streaked with fire. I waited as it pounced, and then I dropped the grenade and ran like hell. I'd barely made it more than ten feet before the ensuing explosion threw me off of my feet and into another bush. I grunted with the effort of getting up this time, feeling more exhausted than I had been before the cat showed up. At least it was in pieces.

Sighing, I began my journey back up the hill, my steps sluggish and taking more effort than they should have. Still, I saw salvation in the form of a cave, and I felt relief as I stumbled into it. Even better? Crates off to the right hand side that looked undisturbed. 'Sota hadn't found this place yet. Good.

Popping off the lid of one of the crates, I almost began to sing with joy at the sight of a can of biofoam. That I applied immediately. It didn't help abate the dizziness or fatigue, but at least it ensured that the symptoms wouldn't get any worse. With the blood loss problem solved, I turned my attention to the contents of the rest of the creates. The two others had ammo, which I rapidly stocked up on, and the other had food. The chances of starving were absolutely abysmal since the simulation couldn't possibly last that long, but perhaps a little food would help me recover faster. Cracking into an MRE, I tried to think up a plan.

'Sota was still out there. The gunshots and explosive would have been like a beacon, and while getting away from the area would have been ideal, physical circumstances were working against me. Environmental factors were now in play too, since my helmet was out for the count. No night vision, no motion tracker, nothing. The situation was rapidly going downhill. Not quite FUBAR yet, but definitely toeing that line. Fatigue was further dragging me down too. Despite it being imperative to keep my wits about me, I wasn't going to be able to do so without even a brief nap. I replaced the lids on everything, cleared up as many traces of my presence as I could, and found a rock further in the cave that shielded me from view. Feeling unsafe, but certainly not in imminent danger, I settled down as best as I could and shut my eyes to try and recover myself.

"'Rado."

The growl of my name roused me from a far-too-fitful slumber, and I very quickly bolted up, head-butting 'Sota in the process. The Freelancer didn't even budge at the impact, but I yelped slightly, both in surprise, and because hitting helmets without one of my own actually hurt. Who would have thought? I thought sarcastically. However the question then begged as to why 'Sota hadn't won the match yet. He wasn't the dramatic type. Not when it came to finishing the mission. And the mission was kill or be killed. Not to say he didn't have an extreme advantage. He'd backed up and was aiming his SRS square at my heart.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I questioned tartly, kicking myself for such a poor performance. "Shoot me already."

To my utter surprise, he lowered his weapon.

"I can't, not yet," he said almost sullenly. "Alaska thought it would be fun to introduce a different primary objective, and I can't do it alone. Of course, you're in worse shape than I thought. You look like hell."

Snorting, I rolled my eyes and pushed myself to my feet, taking stock of my current state. I didn't know how long I had been out for. I felt a bit better, but still ached, and the biofoam I'd placed in my wound needed another application.

"Thanks, 'Sota. You sure know how to charm a girl. Now what's this objective and why can't you do it alone?"

Despite the helmet, I could almost feel his frown. Come to think of it, he was jumpier than normal. His gaze was darting from me to the entrance, clearly trying to keep an eye on both. I fancied a look outside; it was pitch black.

"Alaska thought it'd be funny to put dummies in the sim of the rest of the squad. The simulation ends when they're all dead, or we are."

I tallied off everyone in my head. Neb. Cal. Maine. Wyoming. Alaska himself. Shit. I understood now why 'Sota had tracked me down for help. Alone, neither of us stood a chance. Together? We might be able to pull this off. But we had to trust each other's abilities implicitly. There wouldn't be room for error, especially not up against our own squad. Alaska had managed to make a simple deathmatch into a team-building exercise, the diabolical bastard.

"I'm going to kick his ass for real when we get out of here. First animals, now this? Great. So what's our plan?"

He shrugged, motioning to a wood pile around a bend in the cave.

"We wait until morning. The valley is teeming with nocturnal fauna now. I don't feel like finding out if it's hostile. The only three people we might have to worry about stumbling across us are Cal, Maine, and Alaska. All of them would be crazy enough to brave the woods to hunt us down. I covered both our trails as best as I could. It should be enough. For now, time to rest up."

He slung his rifle on his back and grabbed some of the wood, wordlessly moving to go set it up in a friendly campfire position. Jesus. Like we were going to have a good old fashioned cookout. All we were missing was the hot dogs. Oh, and the lack of worry about an AI teammate coming in to murder us. 'Sota finally seemed to relax enough to slip his helmet off, running a gauntlet over his head to get some movement to his hair. Then he started trying to light up the fire with a torch he'd probably found in a cache. The second the fire spat out of the small handheld device, I felt myself freeze up and heard my breathing hitch in stark terror. I could hear the threats again, feel that heat gently kiss my skin before becoming a veritable inferno-

"'Rado!"

'Sota waved a hand in front of my face. The torch had been extinguished. There was no fire to be seen. The other Freelancer, even in the dark, wore a frown so deep that I could see it without the light. Heat blossomed on my cheeks as I realized that I'd freaked out at a small torch. Not only that, but I'd freaked out in front of somebody else. I hadn't had that happen before. Whenever I had a flashback to that day I was normally alone, and I had never lost it on the field. Now I'd managed to do both. The episodes were getting worse, it seemed. Great, just what I needed.

"I'm okay, 'Sota. Just get the fire going. I'm going to go get some more biofoam."

Before he could protest, I shot to my feet, grimacing at the pain that lanced sharply through my side, and slowly made my way over to the crates where the biofoam was. Picking up the second can, I made my way back, making out light from the bend. 'Sota must have gotten the fire up and running. Indeed, as I turned the corner a pleasant crackle was going as the flames licked at the wood. I took a deep breath, refusing to let it scare me again, and settled down on the ground barely close enough to feel a bit of heat, and definitely not close enough to have any sparks jump near me. 'Sota had looked up at my arrival, hand tightened on his rifle, but relaxed when he recognized me. Neither of us spoke as I reapplied biofoam to my wound, further sealing it up. The silence was broken when 'Sota sat on the opposite side of the fire and poked the pile with another piece of wood. Sparks flew up as he did so, and I kept my face as blank as possible.

"Does anyone know?"

'Sota's voice startled me, and I had to give myself a couple extra second to comprehend what he'd asked. When I did, I scowled.

"No. Except you and I suppose Alaska now. Not even the Counselor knows."

Granted, hiding any episodes from him was a serious challenge, but I was not going to be put on a chair to 'talk things out.' I just had to learn to live with everything and move on. He nodded his acceptance of this, toying with the log in his hand. I was hoping that was the end of it as I leaned back against the wall. At this point my face felt puffy and torn, and I really wished I had a mirror to see what kind of damage that cat had done. I settled for removing a gauntlet to gently trace the wound. From what I could feel, two claws had gotten through my helmet to gouge into my cheek. Not deep enough to hit bone, but they certainly felt ugly enough. Good thing this was just a simulation, or I would have taken a lot more pleasure in killing that animal for scarring up my face.

"You'll heal," 'Sota said suddenly, almost hesitatingly.

I scoffed, pulling my gauntlet back on.

"Of course I will. It's just a simulation. If anything ruined my good looks back in the real world I would have done far more than dismember it with a grenade." I let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Harper's lucky he didn't do anything that can't be covered up."

"I was talking about the fire thing," 'Sota clarified with a frown.

"Oh," I said with a tight smile. "That I kind of doubt."

I held up my arm, garbed in the shell I always had a hard time taking off.

"Every single time I go to bed, take a shower, look in the damned mirror, I am reminded that I was weak. Helpless. Pathetic. I couldn't stop him no matter how hard I struggled, in both Snowbound and that hole in the ground. And I will be reminded of it for life because of what he did to me. There is going to be no amount of time that will change those facts or stop me from reliving it all again when something reminds me of it."

That seemed to effectively kill the conversation as I sat on the ground, wrath spitting its own sparks from my eyes. One day, I'd get my own vengeance. I was tempted to see if Alaska would throw Harper in the simulation as a sort of therapy, but I knew it really wouldn't make me feel any better. Like I'd told 'Sota, not even time was going to make that wound go away.

"You know," I said, feeling a need to further explain why healing wasn't going to be possible, "I have been afraid - truly afraid - three times in my life. My very first firefight, when my boyfriend died, and in the Crimson Sun base. You don't forget fear like that. And now I'm going to be reminded of it for the rest of my life."

I was kind of surprised by my own admission. But then, Neb had been rubbing off on me for months, especially when he found me in the training room. The man across from me raised an eyebrow in surprise of his own. He hadn't been expecting that freely offered information. 'Sota shifted slightly, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"No, you don't forget fear like that," he agreed. "But you don't have to deal with alone. You have Neb and Jersey, after all."

"They don't need to know about this," I responded immediately, locking eyes with him. "Jersey has enough to worry about especially. And Neb knows enough as it is."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't push the subject further.

"I'll take first watch," I offered. "I already got sleep, as I'm sure you know. Mind if I borrow your helmet?"

"Get me in two hours," 'Sota stated, clearly expecting the order to be followed before he found a rock to rest against and shut his eyes. It was a good thing time outside the sim was slower than in the sim. We could have a twenty-four hour stretch in here and it would only be thirty minutes since we actually started. I slipped on 'Sota's helmet, feeling ridiculous just on the basis of how badly it clashed with my armour, and took up a position that allowed to keep an eye on both 'Sota and the entrance to the cave while remaining hidden. Once or twice I thought I saw an animal pass by, eyes glowing ominously. Luckily, nothing deigned to venture further than the mouth of the cave. I checked the clock I'd put up. An hour and a half had gone by. I forgot how much guard duty sucked.

There was a sound of something shifting in the entrance. I tensed, peering at it, glad 'Sota hadn't been stingy with his helmet. Sure enough, one figure came in, then two. Shit. No SRS that I could see, so it definitely wasn't Wyoming. Alaska, Cal, Maine, or Neb then. Shit. I didn't think the AI would find us so quickly. I melted around the bend and quickly got to 'Sota, shaking him awake urgently. Signaling for silence, I removed his helmet to give to him as the Freelancer came to, the gravity of the situation lending him speed in setting up. Glad I wasn't stuck with somebody less keyed in, I took a position to crouch behind some rocks, my head barely peeking out. The fire, by this point, was petering out into embers, only a slight glow remaining. It took my eyes some time to adjust to the sudden light shift, and they did so just in time. Beyond the firelight, in the shadows of the cave, I recognized both men intruding on where 'Sota and I had set up. Cal, for one, a magnum in one hand and a knife gleaming wickedly in the other. Neb, on the other hand, was kitted out with a battle rifle and a magnum. Despite myself, I felt my gut twist. I really really didn't want to kill Neb. Not even an AI Neb that wanted to kill me.

I didn't have to make that choice.

'Sota's rifle cracked loudly in the cave, the echo hurting my exposed ears. Neb pitched backwards and onto the ground, blood pooling from a new hole in his chest. Doing my best to ignore the way my heart leapt into my throat, I popped up and unloaded towards Cal, but the AI version of my teammate managed to duck behind a rock. At this point I was really regretting not having my helmet. Hopefully 'Sota would understand what to do as I leapt from cover, throwing my rifle on my back in favour of my knife and SMG. Then I used my thruster pack to leap on top of Cal's chosen piece of cover and tackle him to the ground from above. The AI grunted at the impact, and began fighting back immediately. Bullets and blows went off between the two of us, the AI doing a very good job of imitating Cal's fighting style. I had been well-trained, and a decade of fighting had only improved my skills, but I still couldn't keep up with the speed that Cal's doppelganger was moving. I ended up deciding to avoid the knife at the cost of having to deal with the bullets on occasion. All the while I was slowly backing up and into 'Sota's line of sight. Man, I hope he doesn't hesitate like I would have for Neb.

Finally, I caught a break. Cal finally emerged into the open with me, pursuing me with magnum and blade in hand. Another bullet banked off of my armour, making me thankful for whoever had designed the suit. Another piercing SRS round screamed through the air, impacting Cal in the side and throwing him backwards. Even being an AI he groaned in agony, but like Cal would have done, he still moved his gun forward to keep fighting. I ended him with a quick shot to the heart and heaved a breath, gulping down a few breaths. Cal had gotten a few good slashes in, the worst one being a thin slice along my throat that I barely managed to pull back from in time. 'Sota stalked over from his perch to lightly slap my shoulder.

"You had that shot on Neb as soon as he rounded the corner, but you didn't take it. We had the element of surprise and probably could have avoided a confrontation altogether," he accused.

I bristled at that, a stubborn frown etching on my face, but the other Freelancer plowed over whatever I was going to say.

"I get that you two are close, really, I do. Shooting at them feels wrong. Hell, I felt a bit bad after shooting Cal. But these aren't our teammates. They're AIs trying to kill us. It was either you or him, and I chose you. Don't hesitate, or we won't be walking away from this as winners."

I nodded as answer, still frowning.

"How sweet, are you going to hesitate for me too?" Alaska's voice came over loud and clear despite my lack of helmet.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, Alaska," I said bluntly, earning a genuine laugh from the other agent. "I'm actually going to enjoy killing you."

"Such unsavory language from a lady."

"Bite me, Crazy," I shot back. Another laugh was earned before the line went dead.

Shaking my head, I scavenged Neb's battle rifle and the ammo for it, sliding my SMG back on my thigh. Having a weapon for all occasions wasn't bad. I tossed 'Sota the extra pistol magazines.

"We should move while it's still dark," he suggested. "It'll be dangerous for us with the animals, but if I know Wyoming, and I like to think that I do, he'll be watching the cave to see who comes out. Take one of their helmets, or we won't be getting far without being able to coordinate over the radio."

I hesitated slightly, but ended up taking Cal's. I didn't need to see Neb's face. It was already bugging me enough seeing his doppelganger dead on the ground. Luckily, Cal's helmet was fully functional, and I quickly set up a channel between 'Sota and myself. Having night vision and a motion tracker made me relax further, and I followed 'Sota's lead. That was two down, and three to go, and part of me thought Wyoming and Alaska would be the biggest problems. Both of them were going to be fresh opponents. While 'Sota would no doubt have to deal with Wyoming, I'd have to keep Alaska busy, and that would be a pain in the ass. Nevermind the fact if Maine showed up too. The crimson Freelancer had almost always beat me in training. The only times I'd won had been when I'd done something even he didn't expect, and this AI probably expected all of my tactics.

We stopped near the entrance, and he held up a fist, scoping in with his rifle, no doubt checking to make sure we were clear. After a moment of searching, he motioned me forward. I obliged, battle rifle up as I moved out, checking either side of the entrance.

"Clear," I murmured. "Let's get going."

'Sota took point again, leading us up and up to get to more favourable ledges for sniping.

"This is awfully exposed, 'Sota," I pointed out, unnerved. He didn't seem bothered.

"Wyoming is good, but he's not so good that he can get a shot off without being close enough. I didn't see him on scope, so he's either across the valley, or in the trees somewhere. It's exposed, but I can blend in well enough. You, on the other hand..."

"Are you going to use me as fucking bait?"

"I never said that," he retorted with a scoff. "You can be the lookout when we find a good perch. Make sure Alaska and Maine don't sneak up on us, because I've got to concentrate on nailing down Wyoming before he does the same to us."

That sounded reasonable enough. Listening to Wyoming for so long, it often escaped my mind that 'Sota could lead just as effectively when he wanted to. We climbed the rest of the way in silence, and when 'Sota spotted a good rock, I boosted him up before accepting a hand to also get on the perch. It was perfect. Overlooking the whole valley, it was low enough for 'Sota to get off shots into the trees, but high enough not to be jumped from above. Setting up a bipod, 'Sota laid down and got into a good position, and then the great waiting game began again. Man, sniping was boring, but I wasn't about to allow 'Sota or myself to get killed. I wanted to win, and most of all, I really wanted to kick Alaska's ass, both in the AI and physical sense. I watched time tick by slowly, and all the while, 'Sota maintained his position, moving only when he needed to move the scope. His patience was astounding, and I was so used to the peace around us that, when 'Sota shot, I almost jumped in surprise. He seemed to feel that sudden tense surprise, because he chuckled.

"Found him. This is going to be a while between the two of us, but watch out for Alaska and Maine. No doubt they'll know where we are now. Get your DMR out. Since it's dark, they may be tough to spot for once."

I could agree with that logic. Swapping out my two weapons, I scoped down to the forest below, expecting them to try and sneak up. Thankfully, my ears were sharp enough to hear a sudden small avalanche of rocks above us. Flipping around, I saw Alaska nearly on top of us, DMR up and ready, aiming straight for 'Sota. Oh hell no you don't. Flipping my own weapon around I shot his gun once to knock it off course, and as he fell towards us, I leapt up and activated my thruster pack, delivering a solid, swiping kick to his side that sent him off the side of the hill. So much for my 'high enough not to get ambushed' assessment.

"I'm going after him! You take care of Wyoming!" I called to my teammate.

'Sota shouted an affirmative as he rocketed off another shot, no doubt meant to suppress Wyoming as I leapt after Alaska. Despite the darkness, my night vision cut through it, Alaska's only cover a slight hazing of dust from rolling over so many rocks. Even though he had landed badly, Alaska managed to recover and was now sliding on his back and aiming towards me, DMR in hand. Damn, the AI really didn't give any quarter, and no way was my armour deflecting a barrage of armour piercing rounds like the marksman rifle had. I used my thruster pack again to shoot to the side as he started shooting, and tucked forward to duck beneath the second volley. I got to retaliate as I rolled to my feet, skating on the loose rocks as my momentum carried me down to the other Freelancer. My own DMR rounds sliced through the air towards him, but the first waver elegantly rolled behind a tree, and the bullets met nothing but trunk or air. Growling, I leapt up and blasted off my thruster pack again, grabbing hold of the lower branch of his cover and swinging myself around to land a kick square in his face. The AI grunted in surprise, and I got the satisfaction of it as I dropped to the ground and rushed him.

I was hoping a rapid, overpowering attack would take him down. I couldn't give him time to recover. I tossed my knife at him and was rewarded by him having to dodge again, and by that time I had pulled my SMG off of my thigh and was hosing him down. A couple bullets caught him in the side, and he hissed displeasure before jumping away. I realized my mistake in sticking close to the tree as I went to follow him. His fist came flying at my helmet, and I reeled back at the impact, and that was all the opening Alaska needed to press the attack. I did my best to block with my SMG and DMR as he swung with two machetes he pulled off of his back. Eventually, however, I felt my strength begin to wane.

"'Sota, if I get Alaska out in the opening, can you nail him?" I panted, feeling blood ooze from my reopened wound that the sniper had given me earlier.

"A bit busy right now. Wyoming is still in play. You're on your own."

Shit. If Alaska didn't kill me then-

A brilliantly stupid idea struck me. Darkness was still heavy, and animals were out in abundance. I refused to believe that giant ass cat was the only one of its kind. And if it was attracted by the scent of blood…

I suddenly dropped and tripped Alaska, slinging my DMR on my back and rolling onto my knife he'd dodged. As he got up, I tore off a gauntlet and sliced my palm, blood flowing up like a well from the new cut. As if I haven't lost enough blood already. If this doesn't get the job done, I'm cooked. Alaska came at me again, and this time, I obliged his desire to get close. I slipped my SMG on my thigh and put my knife back in its sheath and went classic hand to hand. I parried and weaved, doing my best to slide my blood on him when I could. All I needed was for the cat to notice him instead of me.

A pair of glowing eyes glinted to my right.

With a savage roar, another one of the beasts I had killed before leapt from the bushes and towards our melee. I dropped to the valley floor and rolled out of the way as Alaska's AI cried out in fury and shock, and gunfire erupted as he tried to fight it off. As for me, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I unhooked my last grenade and clicked the pin, chucking it at the two fighting parties. An explosion went off, followed by the agonized wail of the cat, and no sound from Alaska. Limping over to observe the carnage, I was pleased that both had been eliminated. Suck on that, Alaska. Still don't regret adding animals?

"'Sota, status?" I inquired, slowly making my way back to the base of the hill.

"Wyoming is down," he said smugly. "These AIs may know our teammates, but they don't have their instincts. Coming down to you now."

The sliding of gravel announced 'Sota's presence, and I laughed as I replaced my gauntlet, slapping him on the shoulder.

"That is damn good work, 'Sota. Look at us. We managed to take on a four on two and survive against our own teammates, even while injured. The Crimson Sun is screwed if we keep up performances like this. And we had some great teamwork too, especially in the cave. That might be a good tactic to employ in the actual field. I'm sure we can rustle up some actual bait."

"And some predatory cats too?" the sniper inquired with wry amusement.

"Don't even bring those up. If I ever see one again it'll be too soon," I groaned, sinking against a tree. "Hey Alaska? You wanna end this thing or what? 'Sota and I kicked the collective asses of your-" A sudden thought occurred me to me "Hey, what about Maine?"

"Sorry?" Alaska asked far too innocently.

"I am not in the mood for your bullshit, Al. Where's Maine's AI?"

'Sota seemed to stiffen at that, his rifle up in a snap as he watched the foliage around us, his ears no doubt on red alert.

"Not there," he said. "I wanted to give you and 'Sota a fighting chance."

"Prick," I snapped at him, which he laughed at. I had to find some new insults for him.

"If you'd like, I can put him in there?" the absent Freelancer questioned, a smug grin clearly on his face.

"NO!" 'Sota and I shouted at once.

The only answer we got was a disappointed sigh, and the room fell into its normal state, with all pseudo injuries gone and my actual helmet in shining condition. Thank god.

"Up for a drink?" I inquired to 'Sota. "After working that hard, I think we're entitled to something frosty."

The sniper looked surprised, but nodded.

"Sure, why not? York probably restocked the fridge in the rec room after the last shipment the ship got."

Amid Alaska protesting his lack of invite, I waved him along, chatting amiably to 'Sota. I wouldn't forget, no matter how small, the reassurance he'd given in the darkness of that cave.

You don't have to deal with it alone.