(A/N) Hey guys, NicKenny here with a new update for Phase Two: Betrayal, and I'm sorry that it's slightly late. I turned 21 yesterday, and that, along with some problems this weekend, kind of ate up the free time I needed to edit this and make it awesome, but…I really do feel as though this may be one of my best pieces of writing for Arkansas, and I hope you'll all think so too. We've been suffering a lot of delays recently, and I apologise for that, but sadly a lot of my time lately has been taken up in studying for end-of-year college exams, and I'm doing my best to keep on top of things. Just hang on in there; the summer isn't so far off! Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review, favourite or follow our fic, and, as always, I really hope you all like this one. I put a lot into it, and I hope that all comes across, on the page.

Enjoy!


Chapter Forty-Nine – Danger from All Sides

Arkansas

Written by NicKenny


"As time went on, we learned to arm ourselves in our different ways. Some of us with real guns, some of us with more ephemeral weapons, an idea or improbable plan or some sort of formulation about how best to move through the world. An idea that will let us be. Protect us and keep us safe. But a weapon nonetheless." ― Colson Whitehead, Sag Harbor


Ark blocked the first wild stab that was thrown at him with his own combat knife, twisting and throwing a kick in his attacker's direction as he did so, and catching her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground with an audible grunt. She recovered quickly though, and rolled back to her feet, brandishing her knives in frustration.

She charged again, and Ark parried her blows once more, his own knife flickering from side to side as he deflected her blows. Perspiration dripped from his brow inside his helmet, despite the climate control features, which were supposed to keep his core body temperature at an optimum level to prevent sweating, and the resulting dehydration. He couldn't keep this up for long, he knew that for sure. His attacker was clearly skilled in the arts of dual knife fighting, and close combat had never been his forte. He had to end this, quickly.

Ark ducked below her next swing, parrying her second blade with his knife before slamming the elbow of his free arm into his attacker's chest, knocking the air from her lungs despite the armour that she was wearing. Without giving her a second to recover, his free arm snapped down on her left wrist, knocking the knife from that hand, and he lashed out with her left foot, sweeping her feet from under her.

She collapsed heavily onto the ground, and he stamped down hard onto her right wrist, pinning it to the ground. He sheathed his own blade and bent down, applying extra pressure to her wrist, and prized the knife from her fingers with one hand, while using the other to pin her by the chest to the floor. After taking the knife from her, he raised it to her throat, the modified kukri blade with the heart-shaped gap glinting in the light of the base's training room.

"Think I win, girlie," he murmured, before dropping the knife on the ground next to her, where it landed with a harsh clang. He stood up, releasing his attacker, and proffered his hand to her.

There was a brief moment of hesitation before she took it with a slight sigh, and Ark dragged her back up to her feet. She raised her hands to her helmet and pulled it off, tossing her long blonde hair back and glancing over at him, smiling tiredly.

"Well, I definitely gave you a run for your money there, didn't I?" she asked, a smug ring to her voice, but Ark merely shook his head warningly.

"That's not the point, Athena," he replied, looking over at the far end of the room, where Goliath – his head of security – and Grendel – Penn's own protégé – where sparring furiously under Penn's tutelage, a scene which made him recall the fight between Penn and Maine all that time ago. However, the two behemoths couldn't hold a candle to the Freelancers, and, knowing this, Ark shook his head, turning back to the girl.

"Giving me a 'run for my money' isn't enough. I was far from the best Freelancer in close combat, and if we're going to have any chance against them next time round, we need soldiers who can match them in the battlefield! Until you can beat me, don't feel smug, don't feel confident. If you come up against a Freelancer, expect to lose. Expect to die."

She frowned at this, clearly hurt by his reprimand, and Ark regretted his words somewhat, but not the sentiment behind them. She looked away, focusing for a moment on Grendel and Goliath as the two battered each other senseless, her brow furrowed. Eventually, she spoke up.

"They have better resources then we do, have access to better facilities and more men, and the power of the UNSC behind them. How on earth can we ever be expected to match them? There isn't a soldier here, not even Harper, who can compare with you or Penn! How are we meant to beat Freelancers, when you two can't?"

Ark stared at her for a moment, troubled by her words, for they echoed many of his own doubts and gave him a moment for pause. "By working harder than they do, Athena. Your potential is only limited by your ambition, and I've fought alongside those Freelancers. They may be some of the best soldiers in the galaxy, but they're only human. They have their weak points – arrogance, pride, greed, laziness, even love – and that can all be used against them. You're faster than me, but you didn't make full use of that advantage, and you also didn't try to play off my emotions. You're a female soldier. Men don't like fighting women."

She snorted, and glanced over at her leader. "Yeah, like batting my eyelids would have stopped you."

Ark accepted her rebuttal, and began to walk past her, pausing for a second to pat Athena on the shoulder. "Not everyone is as good at putting their emotions aside as I am," he murmured, before moving on.


"Hey kid!" a voice called out, and a young man looked up from his data-pad guiltily, a bacon sandwich half-raised to his mouth, surprised that anyone other than himself would be up in the bleachers of Cursor Academy's Grifball stadium at this hour.

He stood up, embarrassed, praying to god that he could bluff his trespass by the caretaker or lecturer who had found him. It was only then that he realised his discoverer was much closer to his own age, and what is more, someone he recognised instantly, though this only increased his embarrassment.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to report you!" the girl laughed, tossing a strand of bright red hair over her shoulder and smiling warmly at the boy. "Didn't think that anyone would be up here. Used to come up here all the time, back when I had just arrived in Cursor. Good place to study, if you're smart enough to evade campus security. By the way, I'm–"

"I know who you are," the boy interrupted, smiling back at her nervously. "Your name is at the top of pretty much every record-board on campus, after all."

The girl's grin spread, and she sat down on one of the chairs, her vivid green eyes sparkling back mischievously. "I was pretty sure it was at the top of every record-board, kid. Get your facts straight!"

Across from her, gaining some confidence at this point, the boy put down his sandwich and holo-pad, and sat down himself. "Well," he began, his smile growing more and more smug with every word. "You were at the top of all of 'em, but then, today, some snot-nosed Freshman beat your high score on Target Profiling and Identification, Tactical Planning and Strategic Assault. Quite embarrassing for you, I imagine…"

The girl looked at him guardedly, almost suspicious, then took out her own data-pad from the backpack by her feet. After a few seconds of scanning it, she whistled softly to herself, and shook her head.

"I'm guessing that you're Cadet Fi–"

He interrupted her once more, smug as can be. "I, Cadet Church, am your reckoning. Every time you slip up, I'm going to be there, waiting. None of your records are safe!" he finished, somewhat theatrically, and she raised a delicate eyebrow, amused by his antics.

"Well, Cadet 'Your Reckoning', I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" She stood up gracefully, slipping the data-pad back into her back and hoisting the bag itself around her shoulder.

"I'll see you around, kid."

And with that, she walked down the steps of the stadium, disappearing through one of the exits. The boy watched her every step, eyes tracing out her outline until she disappeared from sight, and he leaned back in his seat, his heart throbbing. A few seconds passed before the sudden realisation that he had just threatened to unseat the position of the deadliest, not to mention the most popular, girl in the academy, and he groaned to himself, thumping his forehead with the flat of his palm.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, mentally reprimanding the past version of himself. Why couldn't you just have been too awkward to get a word out, like you usually are with girls?

He sat there for a minute, running the conversation through his head over and over again, and groaned once more. Goddammit, you are such a fucking loser, you know that?

There was a few minutes more of mental replay, punctuated by the odd groan, before he finally consoled himself with the thoughts that she was hardly likely to remember him. After all, luck had played a major part in those high scores, and he had little doubt that she'd be able to surpass them if she put her mind to it. And, for popular girls like Cadet Church, there were illegal parties to sneak off to, friends to chill with, and teachers to evade, deceive, and generally make fun of.

For lonely, geeky, broken guys like the boy who would eventually become Agent Arkansas, there was constant study, diligence, and the quest to attain academic perfection.

Friends just held you back.


"Hey Barbie, looks like you just got your ass handed to you!" a voice called out, as Ark and Athena were about to leave the training room floor.

Ark spun around, grabbing Athena by the shoulder as she started forward, preventing her from doing anything stupid. Penn, Goliath and Grendel had paused in their training, turning to the speaker, who clapped his hands together sarcastically at the far side of the room.

One of Harper's men – the newest one, Rook – stood with his head tilted slightly, a smug grin on his face. Ark disliked him, but again, he wasn't fond of any of Harper's crew. They all shared their leader's traits on untrustworthiness, lack of foresight, and mental instability. It was a volatile mix, and Ark suspected that if anything ever happened to Harper, they would tear each other to shreds instantly.

Rook was particularly obnoxious, having been recruited by Harper from the UNSC force he and his team had dealt with previously, and Ark, while technically also a deserter, felt uncomfortable to be around a man who could betray his loyalties at the drop of a hat. They were trouble, each and every one of them, and sooner or later something would have to be done about them.

But not today.

"What, did you just say?" Athena asked in a quiet voice, and Ark felt her muscles tense beneath the grip he had on her.

Rook smiled, his gleaming white teeth matching the shining white chess piece painted onto his torso, which had provided his nickname. "You heard me, Barb. Nice to see the quality of the competition."

"We're on the same side," Ark murmured quietly, and Rook's eyes glanced over to him, narrowed slightly, and he nodded at that.

"Sure we are, boss. For now, at least." Behind him, three other figures appeared from the corridor – more of Harper's men, Circuit, Geist and Crosshair – and this time Ark tensed slightly, and he cursed himself internally for leaving his gun behind. Goliath began to lumber over, leaving Penn and Grendel behind, his face grim and clearly expecting a fight.

"What do you mean by that, Castle?" Ark asked quietly, and the men tensed.

"It's Rook, sir," the other man spat back, and Athena's hand drifted to one of the knives by her side, but Ark squeezed her shoulder warningly and she relaxed.

"Do I look like I give a flying fuck about your name, Castle?" he returned, his eyes daring the younger man to try and start something, though they were hidden away behind his visor. "All I want to know is do we have a problem here?"

Geist leant over and whispered something in Rook's ear, and the younger man's eyes flickered over in Penn and Grendel's direction, and then he relaxed slightly.

"Of course not, bossman. Just us layabouts, screwing around is all!" He smiled and he said this, but it failed to reach his eyes. He then turned to Athena, nodding in apology. "Sorry about that Blondie. Didn't mean anything by it."

With that, he turned away and joined his three teammates, and Ark and his two followers stood silently for a moment, watching them leave. When Ark finally turned away, Penn and Grendel had disappeared as well, and they were all alone.

"They're going to be a problem," Goliath ventured, his brow furrowing in worry, but Ark merely released his hold on Athena and patted the giant on the shoulder.

"We'll deal with them. Just not today."

"They're dangerous, sir. We'd be better off without them. Just say the word and myself and two dozen men will take them out of the equation," Athena offered, and Ark smiled grimly at her enthusiasm.

"Sadly, we need men like Lieutenant Harper and his team. We can't win our war without allies, and we're not in the position to pick and choose. And for what it's worth, they are very good at what they do."

"They're psychopaths," Athena stated plainly, and Ark chuckled at that.

"They are indeed. But I never said that what they do was nice. We need them, and until we come to a point where that no longer rings true, we won't move against them," he ordered, and the two nodded reluctantly.

"Ok, sir, but I don't like it. I just don't like the way they look at me," Athena replied.

Ark nodded thoughtfully, turning back to stare down the corridor the men had left through. "I know, Athena, I know. That doesn't mean that I'm saying we shouldn't implement some precautions, should they ever think of trying something."

He paused again, before glancing at his two lieutenants, who stared at him expectantly.

"Mingle amongst the men, and gauge the popular opinion. Goliath, you're well known amongst most of our force, so sound out their thoughts. Make sure they're on our side. Athena, play up on the fact that they have no women in that squad. Given their lack of discipline, I'm sure there's been some problems with them and some of our female soldiers since we began. Build on it."

"What about Pennsylvania and his squad?" Athena asked, and Goliath tensed at this. Ark noted his reaction tentatively, and hoped that it wouldn't cause trouble in the future. Goliath idolised Penn, that much was known throughout the camp, and Ark just hoped that when push came to shove, Goliath would be standing next to Ark, and not the former-Agent Pennsylvania.

"I'll deal with Penn," Ark replied, keeping an eye on Goliath. "I have reason to believe that he'll support me over Harper, should any conflict ever arise. I wouldn't be prepared to stake my life on it, but…well, I guess I'm going to have to. He still needs me though, at least for a short while longer. Until then, we don't have to worry about Penn…"

He trailed off, then snapped out of his trance suddenly, glaring at both of them. "Well what are you waiting for?! Get moving!"


The boy had seen her here and there over the next few weeks, but given that she was constantly surrounded by groups of people – mostly sycophantic admirers, but several of them were also prominent members of the college, or in other words, leaders, like Cadet Church herself – he never approached her, not even to say hello.

It was tough, seeing replays of her constant record setting being played almost daily throughout the campus, with the faculty eager to impress the importance of emulating their rising star to the student body.

The boy himself eventually put their conversation aside, knowing that she wouldn't remember him, that he was just another nobody to her in a haze of nameless faces. He focused on his classwork instead, and soon began to gain praise from his teachers for his work in demolitions, hacking and strategic planning, and set a few more records himself.

A month after their conversation, he saw her sitting by herself one the steps of one of the academy's founding fathers, and plucked up the courage to go over and speak to her. However, he was more than fifty yards away when she suddenly stood up, smiling, and he turned away in embarrassment, looking back to see a bespectacled man with black hair embracing her.

Of course, it was visiting day for the families of the student's here in the academy, and the boy moved on, smiling sadly to himself. Given that most of the cadets here had high-ranking parents in the UNSC, Cursor did their best to keep them pleased, and allowed them to meet their children once every two months or so.

He, of course, had no one to come visit him. No one who cared where he was, or what he was doing. That had all been taken from him as a child, and he threw himself with even more determination into his studies, the fire burning away in his heart once more.

His teachers were pleased by his progress.


He walked back into his room, locking the door shut behind him, determined to avoid any possible interruptions, though he didn't really think that Harper would try anything this soon. He had work to do. For months now, since Eisenberg's death, he had deliberated over who the Crimson Sun's next target would be, and how they would pull it off, before eventually deciding on Sergeant Major Jira Olumbu, the head officer in charge of Whitegate Penitentiary on Amity, a largely isolated Outer-rim penal colony. More importantly, he was one of the few names on Ark's list whose death could be considered personal. It wouldn't do to mess up their chance at this, as it would be unlikely that they would get another. The plan had to be flawless.

Ark pulled up another image of the prison-base, shaking his head as he did so, already knowing that his efforts would prove fruitless. The prison was impenetrable; having withstood several attacks by local Innie forces over the years. Its defences were far beyond their capabilities, and the entire body of Crimson Sun roughly equalled the number of security guards at the facility. The only time that it had even come close to falling had been during…had been during a prison riot.

Ah…now there was an idea. A very, very stupid idea, but, to go with the old cliché, it just might work.


Ark looked at the assembled crowd before him, friendly faces mixed with ones that were…not so friendly. Men and women, the young and the old, the nervous and the confident – all were represented in the room, united under the banner of the Crimson Sun. United under his banner, waiting for him to tell them what the next move would be, hanging on his every word.

With so many people placing their utmost belief in him, why did he struggle to believe in himself? Why was it so hard to know that he was making the right decisions?

He glanced over to Athena and nodded, and she looked down at the screen in front of her, her fingers whizzing away on her keyboard, and the holo-table in the middle of the room lit up, the prison appearing before the assembled crowd.

"This," Ark began, surveying the faces before him during a brief pause. "Is our next mission. Whitegate Penitentiary, the UNSC penal colony, and run by our third target, Sergeant Major Jira Olumbu. You are all probably familiar with the name – he is the man who destroyed my home, amongst his many, many crimes. Lately, it appears that he has been made the warden of Whitegate, presiding over a small UNSC force, and numerous criminals and prisoners of war."

He took a slight breath, and noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Harper whispering something to his second-in-command, Falcon, who sniggered slightly.

Ignore him.

"However, it seems in recent times the good Warden has taken to purchasing men and women from local slavers, in an attempt to increase his labour force. Over the last decade or so, Whitegate has been used as a source of manual labour, with the aim of aiding the UNSC's war productivity, mostly for producing parts for USNC frigates. No weapons, for obvious reasons."

He gestured to the table, and Athena's fingers darted across her keyboard once more, and the prison's defensive structures were highlighted in a bold red, contrasting starkly with the unchanged blue remnants.

"The building itself was built to be impregnable by anything short of a direct Covenant attack, and the weapons on-board this ship would not be able to breach these defences within the necessary time period. As a result, a direct assault is not an option."

Harper let out an audible groan, and some of the assembled crowd's heads swivelled to look over at him, but he merely grinned back and crossed his arms. Ark chose, again, to ignore this interruption, and carried on.

"The only available objective with a high probability of success is infiltration."

The holo-table's projection blinked for a second, and the prison was now replaced by a convoy of trucks and modified warthogs, heading along a dirt track, the walls of the prison appearing in the distance.

"At least once a week, groups of local slavers make the journey to Whitegate Penitentiary, selling their captives on to Olumbu and his men. Olumbu himself is never present, evidently in an attempt to distance himself from the proceedings, but instead his second-in-command – Sergeant Arthur Dent – oversees the transactions."

He took a deep breath, well aware of the curiosity in the eyes trained on him, and even more aware of the fact that they weren't going to like the next bit.

"This is our way in. Penn, Harper and their respective squads will be sold to the slavers, gaining us a small amount of funds for the cause, and will then be sold on to Whitegate. From that point, they are to orchestrate a prison riot large enough to sufficiently distract the UNSC guards on site and allow us to hack into their security system, leaving us with control of the prison's security measures. At that point, we fill feed a continuous loop into the prison's security feed, gaining us some time before aid is dispatched by the UNSC. Then, we will land a pelican in the front square, where, after carrying out the assassination, our soldiers will rendezvous, and leave long before the UNSC realise what's happened."

A slight pause.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

Another pause, then Harper raised his hand, almost lazily. "If you really think we're going to go for that, then you've got another thing coming. How do we know you won't just abandon me and my squad and leave us to rot in there?"

Ark stared at him for a moment, and then his head turned slightly to Penn's own questioning eyes, the monstrous former Freelancer standing near the back of the crowd, but his presence felt nonetheless.

"Because I'll be coming with you," he replied, and the crowd began murmuring amongst themselves, clearly surprised at this revelation. "Athena and Goliath will take control in my absence, and they will be in charge of getting through the site's security measures and establishing the loop. I'm willing to put my life in their hands. I assume there are no further objections?"

More murmuring, which eventually faded into silence.

"Good," Ark said, smiling grimly. "Then let's do this, shall we?"

In the end, she hadn't remembered him, just as he had always expected.