Absolution
Chapter 25
By Nan00k
An unexpected new face becomes an old face we've been waiting for.
Okay, so some bad news (maybe): due to some boring IRL stuff you don't want to hear about, I'm working two jobs and my free time has basically come down to weekends and two hours at night. This means that updates MAY slow down, possibly to every three weeks. I'm not sure when or how often this could happen, but I will update you via my tumblr/twitter when I know I'm going to be late with a chapter. I'm hoping this won't be a long term issue, but at this point, there's not much I can do. :C Sorry!
Thanks again for all your readership and support, guys! Next update should be December 24, but keep an eye out for any delay warnings!
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Warnings: implied slash (pairings vary; focus on Doc/Wash, Doc/O'Malley, Grimmons), FOUL language, descriptive violence, AU setting
Disclaimer: Red vs. Blue © Rooster Teeth Productions. Halo © Microsoft. Any original characters found within this story were created explicitly for this story and its prequel.
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Docking Bay
It wasn't like they had merely stuck all the non-fighters in the shuttle. Sigma was out of commission, albeit getting stronger by the minute, and Ada was merely a psychologist with no combat training whatsoever. The AIs inside the containment unit were also unable to provide any strategic aid at the time. They still had two trained soldiers to guard them while waiting for their other teammates to come back.
…however, 'trained' was indeed the operative term.
Sister seemed more coherent than Caboose was; she was immature, but far more aware of what was happening than her teammates seemed to have assumed about her. She still wasn't the sharpest girl Ada had ever met, but still more trustworthy with a weapon than Caboose was.
Though all of what she knew about Caboose and weapons came from Church, Ada had to admit wryly as she sat watching both him and Sister keeping an eye out for trouble. Caboose was crouched, bouncing back and forth with his gun in his lap. Ada hoped they wouldn't have to test his ability to use it.
Sister had been excited at first to stand watch, chatting away about how dull being alone had been and she was glad that she was able to do cool stuff again.
The allure wore off after the first ten minutes of silence. There wasn't even an alarm going off. It was painfully silent in the docking bay, especially when Ada knew fighting was going on elsewhere. Sister didn't take silence well, she learned.
"Well, this sucks," Sister said, as if the silence was the worst they could face on the Endeavor. "I didn't think it'd be this boring!"
Ada looked up at her from her seat. "It certainly beats being shot and killed, though, doesn't it?"
The younger woman's shoulders drooped. "Yeah, but…" She gestured around them. "Should we be moving?"
"What do you mean?" Ada asked, surprised.
Sister scoffed. "You know! Getting a better ship? This one's probably all out of gas or whatever. Maybe we can steal another one and get it ready. Dex'll probably like that."
She certainly had a point. They were rather useless just sitting there and the others had mentioned getting the other shuttle in the docking bay for the benefit of having a new ship. If they could help the others by getting it ready…well, it was something simple enough that even the four of them could manage.
Ada nodded. "Hmm. There was another ship next to us that was loading up. Perhaps it's been refueled already."
"We'll be like spies or-or secret agents!" Sister exclaimed, excited as Ada stood up.
"I like spies!" Caboose added, joining the conversation with enthusiasm. "Oh, oh, can I be a super hero instead? Like Spiderman?"
"Spiderman wouldn't steal a space shuttle though," Sister told him.
"He might!"
Ada sighed. "Alright, alright, let's just go quietly," she said, stressing the last word. She turned and looked at the AI next to her as she brought the AI containment unit into her arms. "Sigma, are you able to stand?"
Sigma had been quiet and Ada had begun to think it was some form of mechanical meditation. When she had been at the top of her game, Sigma never would have let so many potentially dangerous rivals move about without her watching them carefully. She was getting better, slowly, however.
"Affirmative," the AI said, vaguely irritated. She started to stand, but her movements were still stiff. "Synchronization is nearly complete. I apologize, doctor, for the wait."
"Nonsense. Take your time," Ada said, holding one hand out.
Sigma ignored it and stood up straight. She didn't look nearly as unsteady as she had hours ago, which was a good sign. She stepped toward the ramp.
"This was a foolish gesture on Texas' part," she said, stopping next to Ada. "It will likely get at least some of us killed."
Ada frowned. "You don't give Wash or Iowa much credit."
"I've seen Freelancer at work more than you. Believe me…" Sigma sighed; it was interesting how the AIs with bodies mimicked such gestures. "Three are not enough."
"But it's all we have," Ada said, hesitating. She moved to help Sigma walk forward when the AI wavered slightly. She had to brace the containment unit on her hip to free her arm up. "Come on. I can help you."
Sigma pulled from her touch. "I do not need…" She stopped and then turned her head towards the doctor. "Thank you. I am fine."
That caused Ada to look at her in surprise. Sigma made it down the ramp on her own and peered around cautiously as Caboose edged around her. Ada stepped up to Sigma, catching her attention.
"You don't seem to share Theta's fear, but perhaps some of his paranoia," Ada said, intrigued and a little grateful. She reached out to touch Sigma's arm, as a gesture of support she hoped Sigma understood. "You don't need to fear any of my intentions at the very least. I'm still on your side."
"I know," Sigma said, abruptly.
Swaying slightly because she stopped so suddenly, Ada forced herself to look at Sigma with a controlled expression. It was shocking to hear any sort of admission like that from the notoriously independent AI. It was difficult to guess what had changed within Sigma, but they were in no way safe enough for Ada to start asking questions about it.
Still. What she had just said was shocking enough.
"You do?" Ada asked, finally.
Sigma turned and looked at her, tilting her head slightly. "My brothers trust you. I, too, find it difficult to doubt your honesty, Livingston."
"But?" Ada prompted.
"Honesty means nothing to capabilities, doctor," Sigma said, pointedly, without malice.
Ada wondered how much of Gamma she was speaking with at the moment. It could have been any portion of him. He told the truth as much as he lied. He wasn't one for the poetic phrasing Sigma was fond of, of course. That made it hard to distinguish the two.
What a fun new game they had to play, as doctor and patient, Ada thought tiredly.
"That is true," she said, nodding.
Sigma laughed, the sound quiet. "But don't let my negativity ruin the party," she said. She would have been grinning, if she could, Ada knew. "Let's focus on the positive."
That almost made Ada smile. Hello, Gamma.
"…yes," she said, moving again, adjusting the containment unit with both arms. "Let's."
They stepped down onto the docking bay floor and Ada did a cursory sweep. There was no chatter on their comm. lines, so she figured the others were busy with their fighting and she wouldn't want to distract them. She turned and saw the other shuttle a few dozen meters away, beyond a large row of storage units.
Just as they reached the first line of crates, Ada heard what sounded like shouting. Turning, she saw a flash of armor at the far exit that the Reds and Tex had gone through.
It was not friendly forces.
Gasping, Ada knew that in their limited amount of space and time, they only had the option of hiding.
"Get down!" she said, forcing her cry to strangle down into a hoarse whisper. She reached out for both Caboose and Sister, who hadn't dived immediately to the ground like Sigma had. "Down!"
"Huh?" Sister said, surprised. She went down, as did Caboose, when Ada continued to push them toward the row of crates.
The soldiers hadn't shouted in alarm, so maybe they hadn't seen the four of them moving. Ada's heart hammered against her ribcage as she watched, warily from the corner of the crates. They kept moving back further until they were almost halfway between the two shuttles. She did everything she could to make sure they were out of sight, but there was no way to tell if they were indeed hidden.
They had to move. "Behind the crates!" Ada hissed, shoving Sister forward. "Go!"
"Are there more shooty-people?" Caboose asked, worried.
Ada did her best to stay calm as she pushed his shoulder, forcing them to crawl in a line behind the boxes. "Yes, Caboose, so please, let's hide from them, so we don't get…shoot-y."
"Ah, yes. I like this plan," he whispered back. Ada decided that was as lucky as she could hope to get anymore.
The soldiers seemed interested in their fallen friends first, which was understandable. They didn't bother reviving any of the unconscious dockworkers, however, which struck Ada as foolish. They were probably under orders to find the intruders first. That's why they headed for the shuttle—the shuttle they had just left.
The reality of how close they had come to being cornered was unpleasant to think about.
Caboose started to crawl again, past the edge of the next crate, and Ada grabbed his shoulder. "Easy, Caboose. Not so fast," she said.
He hesitated and gestured a bit with his rifle. "Should we, ah, shoot them?"
"No, no, they're going to check out the ship and then leave to find out where we went," Ada said quickly, motioning for him to put his weapon down. He did and they all stilled as they watched the men.
It was a small group, inspecting both their fallen comrades and then the abandoned shuttle. Ada nervously tried to gauge what they were going to do next, but she knew she wasn't trained for this. She took minor solace that Sigma, despite being unstable, wasn't panicking. If the old Sigma detected a threat, she'd have voiced it by then. With Theta likely influencing her awareness of what was dangerous now, it was still reassuring to note Sigma's silence.
"Whew," Sister said, whispering between the four of them. "Good thing we left the other one, huh?"
Ada laughed quietly. "Yes. Excellent call on that, Kaikana," she said, watching the men at a distance. They just had to wait and hide for a few moments longer. They seemed to be pointing towards the other exit, where the Blues, O'Malley, and Iowa had gone.
"Ha! And they said that we were the bad soldiers and shit," Sister continued, thankfully still whispering. She sounded quite proud of herself. "Joke's on them! Jerks."
"Well, technically, we are less skilled," Ada reminded her, sighing. The soldiers came stomping down from the shuttle ramp. They were pointing at the exit again. A few more minutes…
"I would like to say that I have been a good fight and not a bad fighter. I do not think I am bad," Caboose said, a bit upset. He turned to Sigma. "Am I bad person, Lady-Donut?"
Sigma didn't even look at him. "I don't like you. Don't speak to me."
"I like me," Caboose said, hurt and just a little too loud.
Livingston reached out and touched his arm. "We all like you, Caboose, please, keep your voice down." The soldiers kept moving, thankfully, rushing off to rejoin the other squad that had split off to look on the other side of the hangar.
Caboose seemed to understand. "I like me," he whispered back.
Sigma groaned and then started to crawl towards the other shuttle. Ada wanted to call her back, since the soldiers were still in the room, but they were far away. It was probably safe enough. She had to hope it was. Eventually, the soldiers seemed to leave the hangar entirely.
The four crept toward the other shuttle ("Sneaking…sneaking…I am sneaking…," Caboose kept whispering) and kept to the crate line. Ada didn't see any movement. She held her breath as she stared at the seemingly empty new shuttle. There were supply crates at the base of the ramp and there were hoses lined up along its side, where they had either finished refueled or just started. Ada had to hope they already finished. They'd need to go quickly once the others returned.
Holding her breath, Ada inched closer to the ramp. Sister decided to just walk up, as did Caboose. Sigma waited longer, but eventually uncoiled from the ground to follow them.
Inside seemed the same as their last one. The supply crates in the back took up a lot of room, but Ada knew that they'd need the food and medical items. Maybe. She wasn't sure where they were headed next.
Rather, where they could go next, she thought sadly.
"No one there?" Sister called into the shuttle, daring to speak up. She paused at the silence and then stood back, chipper. "Okay, good."
"Check the front of the ship," Sigma said, brisk. She then paused and proceeded to push past the girl to sit down wearily on one of the seats. "Never mind, if there's anyone coming, we're dead anyway."
"That's the spirit," Livingston murmured as she stepped up to place the AI containment unit under the seats.
Sigma laughed. "Ooh, your sense of humor. I've missed it, doctor."
"I try my best," Ada told her, smiling tiredly back at the AI. She then turned to Caboose and Sister. "All right, we'll just have to wait until Texas or Grif come back to make sure the shuttle is ready to go. I know nothing of vehicles or shuttles."
To her surprise, Sister turned and placed a hand on her hip, her posture suggesting she was annoyed, "Um, excuse me, I can at least check to see if the tank is full," she said. At Ada's surprise, the Blue soldier snorted. "What? Dex isn't the only Grif around here who can freaking drive."
Ada was trying to visualize it, but Sister, despite being very nice and friendly, didn't exactly project too many viable skills. "Um, a ship?" she asked, hesitant.
"It's a fuel gauge, lady, not a math test," Sister said, her dulled voice evoking a strong resemblance to her brother. Ah, there it is.
"Point," Ada said, nodding in concession to that. She cleared her throat and motioned with her hands. "Uh, well, go ahead. I'm sure we still have some time—"
Before Sister could move, Caboose made a noise that forced Ada to turn around. He was still by the door without his weapon raised, but he seemed strangely alert.
"Hey. Uh. Uhhhh," he said, glancing at the ramp and then back at Ada, worried. "I heard something."
"Heard what—?" Ada asked, surprised.
Then, she heard it, too. It was almost like metal scraping on metal, but Ada had learned to recognize the sound of armor—specifically armored footsteps. Her heard leapt into her throat when she realized it was headed their way.
"Someone's coming," she said, trying her best to whisper.
Sigma, who had gone to sit down, looked up sharply. "A friendly party would identify themselves," she warned, immediately severe.
She was right. Ada gulped. "Oh, no." She turned back to the AI, heart racing. "Sigma, take the containment unit, go to the front. Hide!"
"They will shoot you," Sigma said, hesitating.
Ada shook her head. "This is the UNSC, not Freelancer. They likely will take prisoners first," she insisted. She motioned at the AI. "Go, Sigma! Go!"
Sigma probably sneered at her, but obeyed regardless. She grabbed the AI containment unit and rushed to the front. Ada didn't pause to see if the AI shut the door behind her. Instead, she moved up to Caboose and fought the urge to try to hide as well. There was no where to go and she knew a fight in such close quarters would only get them all killed.
No, she realized. They had to surrender if they were caught there. If Sigma and the AIs could remain unseen, maybe they could bide their time in captivity until the others came back. Even if Iowa couldn't get the captured ones out, he could at least grab the AIs.
Ada swallowed hard. She knew he wouldn't leave her behind and she mostly hated him for it at that point, even if it did make her feel just the faintest bit of comfort.
Caboose tentatively raised his gun. "Uhh…do we shoot?" he asked, when the shadow of the person headed their way finally appeared at the edge of the door.
Pushing the gun back down, Ada shook her head. She didn't want them to get into a fight she knew they couldn't win.
"No, no, let me…" Ada began, her eyes trailing back to the door. "See…"
Her words failed when the person finally stepped up to the ramp closely enough that she could see their armor and the glint of color they bore.
Her mouth dropped open.
Sister stepped closer, hesitantly raising her gun. "What's wrong?" she asked, peering around the doctor's shoulder.
The metal ramp creaked as the armored stranger thudded their way up toward them.
When they reached the top and stood observing them, Livingston inhaled sharply.
"Oh, my God," she said.
0000
AI Core
Doc really, really hated how gross violence was. Really, it was just gross after a certain point.
When he had tried to get into med school, he knew that he'd be seeing a lot of dead people and sick people and grossness was a thing there. Being a medic in the army saw a lot of dead people too, which sucked, since it never got easier.
He could have avoided it; O'Malley had offered to black him out again, with his usually sadistically-inspired courtesy, to avoid seeing the inevitable deaths of the UNSC soldiers. Doc had turned him down politely, because no matter how uneasy death made him feel, he really didn't like being out of the loop.
Doc wanted to joke about it with Wash—that O'Malley of all people had offered anything at all, let alone control over what happened to Doc's body—but it really wasn't the time for it.
Especially when the UNSC soldiers kicked down the door and fell into the room almost right on top of them.
He hadn't been in control of his body, but the mental yelp Doc let out ended up being an actual, out-loud yelp when O'Malley jumped from his armor. He had jumped earlier and it had been startling, because, well, O'Malley didn't jump out of his head willingly. But he did to serve a purpose and just like he handled the soldiers downstairs, O'Malley wasn't very nice.
Doc watched, frozen on the floor as Tucker and Iowa yelled out in alarm to start shooting. They didn't have to do much, since O'Malley reappeared quickly in a soldier out of sight in the hallway. Doc knew he was there, because the second he was gone from Doc's head, the soldiers were suddenly being shot at from both Tucker and Iowa and from one of their own behind them.
Ducking low to both avoid the crossfire and avoid seeing most of the carnage, Doc waited for the gunfire to stop. It only took a few seconds. He gingerly moved his arms to look up at his companions. The lab fell silent for a brief moment.
"Jeez, O'Malley!" Iowa yelled, once the last solider in front of them fell. "Give us warning first!"
The AI turned to the Freelancer, probably glaring. "Oh, yes, I'll give you a full list of my daily itinerary. First on the list, murder some pawns of the army downstairs. Second, I think I'll do it again on the next floor," he said, sarcasm dripping. "Third, oh, yes, I have some fun in the galley—"
"Shut up, you freak," Tucker interrupted, annoyed. "Also, hurry up and get out of the dude."
"You don't need to remind me," O'Malley snapped. He seemed to dramatically shudder. "Ugh, this one felt gross. Handle it. Also, you're welcome. Ungrateful humans."
Doc had barely stood up when O'Malley leapt back into his helmet. It was always disorientating when O'Malley did that on his own, though it was significantly less painful than if they were forcefully separated. It still took some mental shifting around to make "room" for the AI, especially if they were both at the helm, so to speak.
The poor man O'Malley had left behind sputtered in confusion, but Iowa shot him before he could even have a clue as to what was going on. Doc grimaced and really wished there was a way to avoid this. What was the point in killing all the soldiers when they were already identifiable to the UNSC? It just didn't seem right. He couldn't stop it, though.
O'Malley, for his part, was more disgruntled over having to disconnect himself twice in just a short period of time. He settled into Doc's head, almost ruffled, muttering about the indignity of it all.
Aw, you missed me, Doc said, teasing. Ever since O'Malley calmed down a bit, he felt more comfortable doing so.
O'Malley shoved him, so to speak, jostling back into control of his body. Shut up, DuFresne. Your stupidity clouds both of us.
Rude.
"Church, say something, damn it," Wash was saying, breaking into Doc's thoughts. "Church!"
O'Malley let him control their shared head to look over at Wash, who was crouched over Church's discarded robot body. It wasn't so discarded now, it seemed, since Doc saw one of the hands twitching. The rest of it was abnormally still.
"Is he back in his body?" Tucker asked, wary.
Wash hesitated. "I…I don't know." He leaned over the robot, hand hovering just over Church's chest. "Alpha? Epsilon? Is one of you there?"
They didn't get an audible response, but Doc held his breath as Church finally moved. The robotic body whined lowly, almost like it was rebooting. The hands resting on the floor twitched and then clenched. Wash looked at his hands and then back at the AI's face.
"Church?" he asked.
The AI turned his head to face the human. "Washington," Church said, almost like a question. His voice was scratchy, like it was filled in static. Doc could only stare.
Iowa and Tucker looked at each other before looking back at Church, who needed Wash's help to sit up. Wash still seemed uneasy.
"Please don't be crazy," Wash said, murmuring.
"You, of all people…" Church began, a bit of heat returning to his voice. It cut through the tense air, even if it was slightly distorted. "Saying that… to me?"
"Church, is that you?" Tucker asked, stepping closer.
"Tucker, give him space—," Wash warned, holding his hand up that wasn't supporting Church.
The AI shifted away from him anyway and then stopped. "I…"
Tucker seemed like he wanted to get closer, but he kept his distance. Doc tried to see what was wrong. O'Malley was silent, but Doc could feel that familiar dark glee slowly emerging from the AI. He always liked it when things went wrong; Doc thought that was an awful way of viewing their problems.
"I remember everything," Church continued, moving again.
"Church, you don't need—," Wash began, trying to keep him still.
Church lifted his head towards the other four humans. Even without a visible face, his posture screamed an intensity Doc was familiar seeing in the Church they knew.
"I remember Dr. Church," he said, voice heavy and dark.
Doc swallowed nervously at that admission. Something was wrong. O'Malley was watching his sibling AI was far too much intensity and without any sort of sympathy.
Why did all of this have to be so…so…awful? Even when they had just succeeded in doing what they came there to do, something went wrong. Doc knew that even orange juice couldn't fix these sorts of problems. It was only mildly comforting to know it wasn't just him who was helpless.
Iowa exhaled lowly. "Shit," he whispered.
"What do we do?" Tucker asked, much louder. He glanced back at the lab's exit. "Fuck it, we need to go. We can fix his ass later."
"Okay, okay," Wash said, standing. He moved around to grab Church's unresisting arm. "Tucker, help me get—"
Just as Tucker reached to grab Church's other arm, the whole room rocked in sync with what sounded like a distant earthquake. Doc yelped as he was thrown back into the bulkhead. Iowa had been sent sprawling, his gun sliding across the floor, and Wash and Church slammed into each other with a loud clang before falling over to the ground.
Above them, an alarm started to shriek and the lights dimmed to an emergency red tone, flashing wildly. The whole room was rumbling.
Belatedly, Doc realized the rumbling around them was really coming from their right, back toward the hallway, but seemingly further than that. He wasn't an expert with ships, but he could imagine that the loud noise they had heard had meant it originated on the other side.
Something had exploded.
Considering the size of the Endeavor, it must have been an incredibly large explosion.
Doc really, really hoped it wasn't a catastrophic sort of explosion. At least for their side.
"FUCK!" Tucker yelled, scrambling upright. "What was that? !"
"That would be Texas," Iowa said, chuckling. He seemed far more positive about it as he grabbed his fallen weapon. "Girl knows how to cause a distraction, that's for sure."
"That was a large explosion," O'Malley said, almost too conversationally. He grinned. "I wonder how many people she took out." Doc sighed.
"Great," Wash said, sighing. He adjusted his side of Church. "Come on, Tucker. Let's go while we still can."
Doc wanted to agree, that they should have taken the opportunity to get back downstairs to avoid more soldiers (and more bloodshed). O'Malley was somewhat torn, since he was wary about their chances, even if he wouldn't admit it. He also wanted to see more people suffer, though. Doc didn't sympathize with his conflicted state—
"—owa, Iowa, do you copy?"
Doc flinched at the sudden, familiar voice shouting over their radio. They had agreed to keep comm. chatter to a minimum, since they weren't sure how secure it'd be earlier. O'Malley growled at the sound of Texas' voice, but Doc was happy to suddenly hear from one of their companions. At least she was okay still.
"Yeah, Tex, we hear you," Iowa said, raising his fingers to the side of his helmet. "Nice distraction. Just what we needed. We're on our way back—"
"Negative, Iowa, that is a negative," Texas said, voice tightly controlled.
Iowa hesitated. "What?" he asked. "What do you mean?"
"That was a negative, Iowa," Texas repeated. She made a low sound and it seemed like she was moving quickly, wherever she was, judging by the background sounds on the channel that were audible through her helmet. "I did not cause that explosion. I repeat, I did not cause the explosion."
Doc blinked. Oh.
"What?" Iowa and Wash both asked at the same time, shocked.
"Are they under attack?" Doc asked, surprised. Or rather, he supposed they would mean his group too at that point. Uh oh.
"Holy shit," Tucker said, stunned. "That wasn't Tex? What was it then?"
"Negative!" Texas shouted over the radio. Wherever she was, it was a lot louder than where they were. Doc thought he heard people shouting over the alarm. That was impressive, considering it was coming over her helmet's radio. "Guys, move back to the docking bay, now! There's shit going on that's not related to us and I'd rather not get caught up in it!"
"Roger, we're heading back now," Wash said, grim. He bent low as he moved Church's arm back around his shoulders. "Church, come on, we need you on your feet."
Church's head lolled back, but he moved his legs to stand at Wash's insistence. "She's back," he said.
"Who's back?" Tucker asked, surprised.
"I-I don't know. I remember it all," Church said. He sounded frustrated as he raised his other hand stiffly, almost to touch his head. "Fuck, I remember all of them. All of them, back… back then. They all died."
"Get up and we can help you figure it out later," Wash said, his voice tight. He turned his head towards Doc. "O'Malley, are you good?"
"Ooh, how nice of you to ask," O'Malley said, sarcastic. Doc attempted to say something and O'Malley shoved him. "Stop fighting me, you fool!"
"I'm not fighting you, gosh," Doc replied, trying to get used to the AI settling back into his head. It was so weird when he jumped and then came back. "You're the one who's all jumbled again—"
"Oh, shut up!" O'Malley replied, annoyed. Doc huffed.
"Both of you, focus!" Wash snapped, making Doc flinch. The ex-Freelancer was practically hoisting Church off the ground, which seemed foolish to Doc, considering Wash's injuries. "We don't know what's going on, if the ship's under attack or not. We can't risk getting caught up in any more trouble."
Tucker made a bitter sound. "Is that even possible? I'm pretty sure we're the literal definitions of trouble magnets."
"Just go," Wash ordered. He struggled to keep the robot next to him standing. "Church, walk with me. I can't carry you and—"
Church stumbled alongside of him. "I'm sorry, David," he said, strangely repentant. Almost desperately so.
Wash hesitated. Doc watched how tension roiled over his armor, into his limbs, but Wash didn't push Church away. He took a moment to collect himself.
"It's fine," he said, roughly, forcing them to move over the dead soldiers.
"No, it's not," Church said, pleading. "I'm so sorry."
Wash inhaled.
"Just focus on moving," he said.
Church tripped over one of the soldiers. "I'm not rampant. I-I swear," he begged.
"That's great," Wash said, voice tighter than ever. "Just move."
Iowa followed after them and Tucker went next, gingerly moving around the bodies. Doc let O'Malley handle that, mostly because he wanted to ignore as much of it as possible.
He was also distracted by what Church was saying. It seemed so odd to hear Church sound like that. Sure, Epsilon had been a little more open about things, from what little of him Doc had seen back at Sidewinder last year, but this…was a little weird.
Is Church okay? Doc asked, turning inward.
O'Malley grinned—something that was indescribable outside his head, but it was a grin all the same.
That is not Church, he said, taking too much glee out of it.
Doc wanted to ask just what that meant, but after taking a second, with O'Malley's unpleasant hinting flashing all over the place in that split second, he sort of understood.
…Oh, he said, not sure what he felt about the realization that once again, some of the AIs had changed themselves.
It will be so delightful watching our Memory and our Alpha decipher just who they are… O'Malley continued, still enjoying it. Whether they are Church or something else will come in time. For now, it's just a lovely mess.
Why are you so cruel to them? Doc asked, cringing a bit.
That snapped O'Malley out of his gloating. What? he asked, sharply.
You and Sigma are so mean to each other and all your other siblings, Doc said, wishing he could wring his hands. Why?
It's not your concern, O'Malley immediately snapped, flaring up angrily.
Doc fidgeted, not wanting to cause an argument, but honestly, he couldn't understand it. But…he sort of did.
You're afraid of them, Doc said.
O'Malley snarled. Be silent.
Doc did take back control of his hands just to wring them that time. You shouldn't, you know. I don't think they'll make you rejoin them.
You don't know anything, idiot, O'Malley said, getting angry now.
I know you and well, you're not like Epsilon anymore, right? Doc asked, trying to be the voice of reason.
O'Malley's angry was threaded with bewilderment. What? I was never like him!
Exactly! Doc said, enthusiastic. You're pretty much your own guy, right?
There was beat, where O'Malley observed Doc with barely restrained anger and building confusion. What…are you talking about?
I dunno. It just seems weird that you'd have to rejoin them to be whole or something. That's what Sigma wants, right? Doc did a mental shrug. Ehh, I think you'd be fine on your own. I bet they'd see that, too.
O'Malley rippled, irritated but not quite angry. That was sort of normal for him lately, ever since Beta.
You really know nothing, DuFresne, the AI said, in what amounted to a quiet voice in the back of Doc's mind.
Doc frowned. I know some things, not to be too boastful or anything, but I guess you're right. You AI guys are sorta weird. Not that there's anything wrong with being weird.
Please shut up.
You know, manners would work better if they weren't said sarcastically, Doc reminded him.
I hate you.
Nooo, you doooon't.
Shut up!
"Doc, O'Malley, keep up!" Wash shouted, already a few yards ahead. Tucker had thankfully gone to help him carry Church. They were disappearing around the corner.
"R-right behind you," Doc said. O'Malley scoffed as he took control of their body to run with the others. "God, I hate all of you."
No, you don't.
I am going to eject us both out of an airlock.
0000
IT Center
Whoever this tech guy was, he most likely wasn't a threat. Simmons had to hope that Delta's lack of negative reaction plus this new guy's apparent connection to the AI meant that it was safe to just stand there. The man wasn't going for help or running away. He seemed focused on Delta, ignoring how Sarge still had his shotgun out and how uneasy the other Reds were.
A half a second of silence passed before Delta managed to say something.
"Dr. Okafor, what are you doing on this ship?" the AI asked, seemingly shocked.
"I could ask the same of you, Delta," this Dr. Okafor replied, looking torn between surprise and bemusement. "But…I guess I already know."
Simmon glanced at the AI near his shoulder. "Delta, you know this guy?" he asked, wary.
Delta nodded. "Yes, he was on the Falcon, with us. He is a tech specialist, mainly with AI housing structures."
That meant he had worked with the AIs, then. Simmons barely remembered all the details Ada had shared with them about her work and who she had worked with. This man had been on their team and, hopefully from what they were seeing now, was one of the good guys for their cause.
That was a strangely nice thing to find now of all times, Simmons thought.
Okafor exhaled sharply. "Delta…" he began. "Please. Just tell me. Is Ada…?"
"Ada is fine," Delta replied.
"Thank God," Okafor said, closing his eyes briefly.
Delta hovered a bit further away from Simmons, his attention still solidly on the stranger. "It is because of you that we were able to get this far," he said. Simmons knew the AI must have really trusted the new guy at that point. "Why are you with these men now?"
Okafor shook his head. "They went on a full lock down when you guys escaped. Everyone was questioned. I guess I answered the questions right, since I was merely transferred." He ran a hand over his face. "Fate seems to favor us meeting, I suppose."
Simmons exchanged a look with Grif. "Is Epsilon really on this ship?" Simmons asked.
His involvement in the conversation seemed to surprise Okafor, who turned to face him. "Yes, as far as I know. Are you…?"
Before Simmons could speak, Delta interrupted. "We have few options and we must act quickly," he said, forcing Okafor to look back at him. "Reclaiming our missing parts is the only thing that we can truly do to remedy the condition of myself and my siblings."
Okafor's brown furrowed. "But Ada? Iowa?"
Delta hesitated.
"We have fewer options for them," he admitted, not happy about it.
Okafor's shoulders slumped. "I see."
Behind Simmons, Donut cleared his throat, making Simmons jump. When he looked at the pink soldier, Donut had his arms crossed.
"Um…rude?" he said. "Introduce us, Delta!"
"Apologies," Delta said automatically. He nodded at the Reds. "Dr. Okafor, these are Red simulation soldiers. They and their Blue counterparts have been aiding our escape from Freelancer and UNSC forces."
"I figured," Okafor said. He looked over at the Reds, curious. "Why would you risk so much?"
Sarge snorted. "Son, we're not risking any more than we already have."
That seemed to confuse the lab tech. "What…?" he started to ask, but he stopped himself. His eyes widened. "Wait."
He looked at the Reds and then at Delta and then back at the Reds. Simmons saw the man's face go from confusion to recognition.
"Oh, God," Okafor said, shocked. "It's them? The ones that were in the files?"
"Huh?" Grif asked, surprised.
The lab tech kept starting at them, eyes wide. Slowly, the shock faded. He looked back at Delta, who was silently watching back. Okafor blinked several times.
"The universe really is a small place after all," he said, laughing breathlessly.
Delta tilted his head. "I am beginning to see the rationality behind that phrase."
Okafor seemed to get himself together, ignoring the uncertainty coming from the Reds now.
"Listen. I don't know much, but what I do know is that the Chairman is angry. He won't see reason," he said, mostly to Delta. "He's put out orders for all of your arrests. He wants you alive, but…"
"The Director has not been removed from his position," Delta concluded, darkly.
Okafor shook his head. "He isn't in charge of any Freelancer resources. That much, I'm sure," he said. "But he's not under arrest. He's back on his assigned vessel, waiting for a trial. It can't happen until all the AIs have been reclaimed."
"Then why not go to them now?" Grif said, irritated. "We could nail the guy now!"
"Yeah! I like the sound of that!" Donut said, enthusiastic.
"Because…" Okafor began, trailing off as his eyes went to Delta. The AI seemed to understand.
"The trial is only a means to destroy the Director once and for all," Delta said, the grimness of his conclusion somewhat alleviated by his matter-of-fact tone. "After we serve our purpose, the UNSC will proceed in its decision to delete the AIs involved."
Okafor smiled, the gesture bitter. "A humane gesture," he said, like he didn't mean it.
Delta remained impassive. "Indeed."
Simmons shifted uncomfortably. The more that was revealed about their actual situation—and not just the depressive guessing they were often left to make—the more depressing it actually wound up being.
"We must ask ourselves," Delta continued. "Is our revenge worth our death? Is it worth the punishment of the simulation soldiers? Of Iowa and Ada?"
"Right," Okafor said, frowning.
The AI hesitated. "I cannot speak for the others," he said. "But I…am conflicted."
"I know you are, Delta," Okafor said, frustrated. "I'm sorry it's come to this. You guys—"
None of them were prepared for the explosion that sent all of them flying. The actual blast wasn't in the room or anywhere near, Simmons thought, since there was no fire or physical blast. Still, it had to be close, since the alarms started to shriek and all of them found themselves on the floor.
Gasping, Simmons tried to think quickly. The entire ship seemed to have moved, so it had to have been a big explosion. He couldn't imagine with their brand of luck that it had been an accident. It had to have been the distraction Texas had promised them.
Crazy bitch, he thought, scrambling to get to his feet.
"GEEZ!" Grif shouted, rolling over as he tried to stand up too. Donut was helping Sarge stand. "What was that? !"
Over their comm. lines, Texas was suddenly shouting at them.
"REDS!" she yelled. "All of you, back to the docking bay!"
"Y-yeah, we heard you the first time, you know, with the giant explosion!" Grif snapped back. "What's going on? !"
Texas did not sound happy. "The fuck if I know, but let's just call it actual luck that someone else is giving them hell," she said. She sounded like she was running, even though she wouldn't get out of breath. "Can you get back to the docking bay without me? I have heavy security on my end."
She didn't know? What did that mean? Simmons had thought she had everything under control! Unless the Endeavor was being attacked by another entity besides them, how couldn't it have Texas? !
"We can find our way back, don't you worry," Sarge said, regaining his poise. "Need any help?"
"Nah, thanks," Texas said. There was still audible gunfire and the alarm repeating the background of her open line. "Good luck, guys."
"Yeah, you, too," Simmons replied. Ohhhh, man. He was not looking forward to escaping this. If there was a third-party involved, it didn't mean anything good for them.
Sarge nodded at his men once Texas signed off. "Come on, let's move," he ordered, starting to turn for the door. The alarm was annoyingly loud, but the flashing was worse from the lights—
"Wait," Delta said, causing them to pause. He turned back to Okafor. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Okafor. I do not know where we will end up next, but you have given us time. Thank you, for that."
Okafor started to nod, but then his eyes went to the computer Simmons was standing in front of. "What were you trying to do?" he asked, peering at the screen.
Realization hit Simmons. "Oh, shit, we gotta delete that!" he said, diving for the computer. "It's our records!"
"Huh?" Okafor asked, startled.
"The Blues are already deleted, so we figured we could delete us, too," Donut answered. "To avoid getting in trouble and stuff later."
Okafor's eyes were narrowed. "Wait, records? How long have you been enlisted?"
"Huh?" Simmons frowned. "Um…six years, I guess. Not counting boot camp."
He did not like how hesitant Okafor was. "These are only current rosters," the lab tech told them, looking at the screen. "I don't know where they keep them, but they probably still have your enlistment records elsewhere."
"What?" Simmons asked, horrified. "Oh, no!"
The plan! The whole plan to get them out of there—it wouldn't work? That meant all the original Blue records were still available, too! It might have helped cover Wash if they only had old records of the original Blood Gulch crew left (they could always say Wash joined later) but it did nothing to hide the remaining original teammates!
"Shit!" Grif said, also aghast. "We needed them to forget our names, not just our last base location!"
"So this isn't going to work?" Sarge demanded.
Donut brought his hands to his chest plates. "Oh, no!"
"Wait, wait…" Okafor began, leaning over the desk and reaching for the controls. "I think it could. It wouldn't be deleting anything, but—"
Suddenly, their radios burst on with a cacophony of voices speaking over each other on the radio. Simmons winced.
"Reds, where are you? !" Iowa shouted. He sounded like he was moving fast. "Did you hear Tex? !"
"Dex, hurry up!" Sister also threw in, sounding like she wasn't moving, but she sounded freaked anyway. "Like, holy shit, you are not gonna believe—"
"We're on the way, damn it," Sarge snapped back.
"Ah, shit, we have to go!" Grif said. "Forget the computers!"
Simmons wanted to argue that they had to at least try, but Grif was right. If they couldn't just delete the files and be done with it, what was the point? He wanted to kick the damn computer in frustration—but they had to move. He grabbed his gun and did his best to stay calm.
Okafor, however, seemed to become calmer. "Go. If they know your names, there might not be much that can be fixed," he said. "But I'll see what I can do."
"Dr. Okafor, if you are caught—," Delta began, warningly.
The scientist raised his hand to cut him off. "I've done my fair share of messing with official records, Delta. Don't worry," he said, smiling briefly. "Be safe. Tell Ada that I'm still rooting for you guys."
"I will," Delta said, inclining his holographic head. "Thank you."
Okafor nodded stiffly. "Good luck," he said.
They left him standing there, in front of the computers, and Simmons could only hope the trust of an AI in the man amounted to something worthwhile.
0000
Docking Bay
Getting back down to the docking bay was easy enough. Most of the soldiers that had followed them to the lab had been taken out, but the remaining groups on the lower floors had been distracted by the mysterious explosion for certain. It also helped that by the time they stumbled down the stairs to get to the docking bay, chaos was already in full force.
Mainly, Texas. Or so Iowa assumed. All they could see when they rushed into the room were UNSC soldiers ducking in and out from behind crates and utility trucks as they fired haphazardly at someone or a group of people out of sight. Iowa could only assume it was Texas and the Reds.
"Oh, boy, they started the party without us," Iowa whistled as he and the Blues and O'Malley settle behind the nearest crates.
They were close to the second shuttle, but getting there would require them to go out into the open. There were too many soldiers nearby to risk it, considering Wash and Tucker had to drag Church with them. The AI was still mostly unresponsive, barely able to move his robotic legs.
Wash grunted as he glanced over the edge of the crate. "O'Malley can you do something about the alarms? Or lock down the room?"
"No," O'Malley said, immediately and annoyed. "I refuse to leave my host for that length of time. The amount of effort it would take to disable the alarms for this entire sector of the ship would be a waste—"
"Jesus, it's not that hard," Tucker complained.
"You try it then, meatsack!" O'Malley hissed.
Tucker snorted. "What, you can't do something that Church can?"
"Both of you, knock it off," Iowa snapped. He braced his back against the crate and tried to calculate how far they had to run to get to the other batch of crates and the shuttle. "We clear a path and get to the crates by the shuttle. Avoid drawing their fire to the ships, since they could get damaged."
"Um, Iowa?" Tucker began, interrupting.
Iowa looked at the other man, who was leaning strangely far out from around the crate, clearly "What?"
"Look," the other soldier said, pointing out at the scene before them.
Turning, Iowa was not prepared to see what seemed like a single soldier breaking free from the ranks of the UNSC soldiers that were streaming into the docking bay—and instead of helping the UNSC, the reverse seemed true.
Specifically, this soldier—dressed in black armor that resembled something like first generation Freelancer armor—was punching, kicking and breaking through the lines of security officers like they were breaking waves of water. They moved efficiently and smoothly and far faster than anyone else out there in the field.
Holy shit, Iowa thought. That wasn't Texas. That wasn't anyone on their team.
He had absolutely no idea who that was.
"Who the fuck is that?" Tucker asked, bewildered.
Wash hesitated. "I…have no idea."
"They appear to be on our side," Iowa said, frowning as they watched the soldier kick some serious ass with those UNSC soldiers. "Maybe."
"Don't be so trusting, fools," O'Malley snapped, suddenly closer. "An enemy to this army does not mean they are our ally."
"No shit," Iowa told him, barely glancing over at him. "We need to get to the shuttle."
Wash nodded and went for his radio. "Caboose, what is your location?"
There was a distinct pause and then a click.
"Ah…ah…" Caboose began, either awkward because he was nervous or because he wasn't used to the radio. "Inside?"
Wash made a patient sigh. "Our shuttle?"
"No. The new one," Caboose said.
"New…oh." Iowa blinked and stared at the second shuttle that was closer to their location, which had been parked there when they had first arrived. "They switched?"
That was smart and part of their plans, but nothing they had voiced earlier to the others. Good thinking on the group left behind, then.
"Iowa, this is Ada speaking," Ada suddenly said, taking over the comm.
Iowa was immediately flooded with relief and fear. "Ada, you okay?" he asked, not liking how close the fighting was to the shuttle.
Ada sounded safe, but her nervousness was unsettling. "Y-yes, but, ah, it'd be best if we left soon."
"We got a lot of security out here," Iowa told her. And an unknown figure that could have been good or bad news.
"Isn't she helping?" Ada asked, surprised.
She. The stranger seemingly on their side. Interesting.
"Who is that? Do you know her?" Wash asked, before Iowa could. "That's not Sigma, is it?"
"Oh, no, that's not…" Ada cut off. She came back, sounding more nervous. "Look, as much as I sound ignorant saying this, but please hurry up. We really do not have much time."
"You don't need to tell us," Iowa said, frowning. "Our unknown assistant is bringing down the lines. Let's wrap it up and make a break for the shuttle."
"Sounds good to me," Tucker muttered.
"We can't leave without her," Ada interrupted, sounding like her attention was split.
"Why?" Iowa asked, concerned. "Liv, who is that—?"
"Iowa, look out!" Wash shouted, dropping his side of Church to bring up his gun.
Iowa whirled around and saw two security officers appear around the corner, pointing their guns at them. "Shit!"
He dove low, ducking behind the crate just as a hail of bullets ripped into the metal box. He didn't see where Wash or Tucker went, but O'Malley managed to get a miraculous shot in ("Oh, I got one! Oh, wait, that's bad. O'Malley!" "Shut up, DuFresne!"). Iowa heard the soldier scream and he took the change to return the volley. He got the injured man, but the remaining soldier ducked.
Just before Iowa had to worry about leaving cover to handle it, Texas appeared like a bird of prey, leaping right overhead. She fired as she jumped down, getting a clean shot on the soldier, who slammed into the crate and then slumped over.
Iowa exhaled noisily as he took account of their side. Nobody was injured. Good.
"Hey, thanks, Tex," he said, brushing off his nerves.
Texas shook her head as she reloaded her gun quickly. "Don't mention it."
"Like our new friend?" Iowa asked, jerking his head toward the unknown soldier seemingly fighting for them. "Dunno where she came from, but you think she's the one who caused the explosion?"
"She did," Texas said, so abruptly, it was somewhat jarring. "Move back to the shuttle and get ready for launch."
Before she turned to return to the fray, she hesitated upon seeing Church dangling between Tucker and Wash. Iowa had never seen her hesitate like that; it didn't seem to be in her nature to be surprised by things.
"Hello, Epsilon," she said, calm. Her posture was still tense.
Church turned his head toward her and offered a dull, "Hello, Tex."
That was it. Wash pushed Church off to Tucker to help drag the AI to the shuttle while Texas ran off to fight their remaining foes. She wasn't fighting alone, at least.
Iowa did his part—or as much as he could in such chaos—by picking off the soldiers that came into range. He covered Wash, Tucker and Church getting into the shuttle and it was difficult not to head in there behind them, to check on Ada and figure out what was going on.
Their surprising ally, temporary or something more complicated, was tearing up the line of soldiers all too easily. Her fighting style wasn't exactly like Texas', but honestly, he was reminded of her by just how strong and fast she was. Actually, she was faster than Texas, if not less brutal.
Texas was helping clean up stragglers, not venturing too close to the unknown fighter. Iowa wasn't sure what to think of that, even as Wash rejoined him and didn't seem to be sharing anything he learned from Ada, if he had even asked.
Out from the far corner, the Reds came running, firing haphazardly as they rushed past enemies. Texas dove over to cover them.
"Reds!" she bellowed. "Move your asses!"
"We're trying!" Simmons shot back. He yelped when gunfire started up again, pointed their way. "Ahh, there's so many!"
"Less than earlier, if you can believe it," Texas said, amused as they all moved closer to the shuttles. Even if there were more soldiers incoming, if they could just get clear to launch, they should have taken the advantage.
Donut stopped near Iowa's position. "Who is that? I thought that was Tex at first!" he exclaimed, pointing at the unknown female soldier knock out three UNSC soldiers in a row.
Iowa didn't want to admit ignorance at a time like that, but it was Wash who shook his head. "We don't know, but they seem to be helping, so let's leave them be."
That was awfully magnanimous of him, Iowa thought. He took one more shot at a security soldier who got into range of shooting at the Reds before he hurried to the shuttle ramp. He had his own priorities.
Relief flooded him when he saw Ada standing at the top, peering out worriedly. She didn't have the AIs with her and her helmet was off, however, so Iowa was immediately concerned with the reasons why she'd appear like that, in the middle of a fight.
Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her by the arms and refrained from merely hugging her. It wasn't the time.
"Hey, hey, are you all right?" he asked, trying to see if she had any injuries. Her armor seemed untouched, but he was concerned why she had taken her helmet off. "Liv, are you—?"
"We're fine," she said, her eyes telling him that she was upset over something, but not terribly so.
Iowa glanced back down the ramp, where the mysterious woman was still fighting. "Who is that?"
Ada looked like she was trying to stay calm herself. "You… you need to make sure… no one panics," she said, speaking carefully. "And that Sigma stays out of sight."
"Why?" Iowa demanded. What did Sigma have to do with anything?
She took a breath. "Iowa, that's…" Ada began, faltering.
Outside, the gunfire stopped. Iowa turned and tried to see past the ramp as the Reds finally came charging up, shouting that the coast was clear. He couldn't see where the unknown fighter was.
Texas came up last from their crew, her posture screaming violence, but she ignored them as she stomped toward the front of the ship. No one dared stop her.
"Everyone buckle in, now!" she shouted.
"Tex, should we wait for the soldier out there?" Wash asked, setting Church down in one of the seats.
"Should we? Fuck no," Texas said, her voice biting. "Are we? Unfortunately, yes."
Wash turned towards her. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, irritated.
She ignored him and turned to everyone else. "Buckle in," she ordered. "We're getting the fuck out of dodge."
None of that was encouraging. In fact, it was alarming and Iowa had no idea how to approach the situation. If the unknown woman out there was a threat, Texas would never let her on board. Still, something was off about the situation and every instinct he had told him it was wrong.
Ada reached out to grab Iowa's arm gently, getting his attention.
"Please," she said, eyes shining. "Don't… freak out."
That was so not promising.
"You telling me this way is not helping me not to freak out, Ada," Iowa told her, shaking his head.
"She's helping us," Ada insisted. "We have to trust that."
"Who is she—?" he started to ask again.
Iowa flinched when he heard someone walk up behind him, up the ramp just as the engines started to rumble beneath them.
"She is standing right here and can answer your questions once we're off this ship," the stranger said, almost amused.
He didn't recognize the voice, but even if it was another ex-Freelancer, it wasn't too big of a surprise if he didn't know her. Still, he turned around warily and did his best to identify her quickly. She was standing there patiently as Texas got the ship moving. It lurched as the rear doors shut with a hiss, drenching them in dim lighting once again.
In that poor quality light, their unwanted assistant decided to drop her disguise. It was a mod—some sort of cloak or camouflage gear—that let the standard dark armor color fade away like washed-off paint. Iowa watched warily as the dark faded into something much lighter. It was similar to Tucker's paint job. Some sort of blue or… or…
Iowa stared at the teal armor, the petite form, the brutality present in every small movement. It was all he could do for a full second.
It all made sense and not in a good way.
"Agent Carolina," he said, in an exhale.
She tilted her visored helmet his way. "Pleasure," she said.
Perfect, Iowa thought, while more than one AI and ex-Freelancer around him burst into shouting.
.
End Chapter 25.
.
:D
A/Ns:
-THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED
-"I am going to eject us both out of an airlock." –Nah, you wouldn't O'Malley.
-"petite form" – Season 12 made Carolina look like a giant while in season 9-10, she was much smaller. I like short Carolina. Short, deadly, brutal Carolina.
-I see no reason why Sister wouldn't have some of Grif's vehicle-talents. And by talents, I mean basic Driver's Ed.