A/N: Hey guys, I am here with Chapter 31 of Agent Reach. Now, the OC that makes his first (and only) appearance in the next two chapters was a real problem to come up. My editor and I always wanted to make an awesome cyborg-type character, but my art director (who designs all the characters in this fanfiction) absolutely hates us. Ah well.

*Chapter 31*

Sandbox

Massachusetts prodded Washington with her boot, yawning. "Come on. Get up, you lazy bastard. It's time to get going." 'Good thing we've got plenty of fresh water. It's already ridiculously hot as fuck.' Even though their armor had the most advanced cooling systems currently in production, it was incredibly hot by anyone's standards, but to the brunette, it was hell. Her home was cold, and even though it was glassed in the Covenant War more than 11 years ago, she was still better adapted to handle ice and glaciers over heat and sandy deserts.

"Get off, York…" Washington mumbled, still delusional and in a partial dream state. "No one wants to watch Grifball while you're inside Carolina…" Massa rolled her eyes and grabbed him, shaking him hard. "Wake. The fuck. Up." 'I've already had enough of this goddamn desert. I just want to find Epsilon, shoot anyone who tries to stop us, and get the fuck out.'

Around their camp were a few dead snakes, all of them killed by Massa while she made the scheduled call to the Chairman, to prevent her and Washington from being poisoned and suffering a horrible, agonizing death.

"What the hell!? Put me down! I'm up!" Washington was wide awake now, and the blue/white Freelancer dropped him onto the ground. "Good. We're setting out for the temple now. I don't know about you, but I'm already tired of this damn sandy hellhole." 'I hate Sandbox. It's nothing like Ilyccia. Hot, dry, boring, and filled with snakes that want to kill you. If I wanted that, then I'd move to the Australian Outback.'

The black/gold Freelancer got to his feet, wiping sand from his visor. "Shit, finally. I've been waiting for some decent action. I've had enough of just sitting around roasting to a crisp and having a hundred rifles pointed at me." Massa let out a slow breath, shouldering her Sniper Rifle and placing her customized DMR across her back. "Me too. Is it bad that I want there to be Covenant hinge-heads waiting for us inside?" 'Jason and I were too young to be in the UNSC when the Covenant War ended. But I still remember Ilyccia being glassed. That's why we enlisted when we could, for revenge.'

"No. I remember the Covenant War. I remember when the Covenant glassed New Alexandria," Washington murmured. "I was only a kid, but I remember it all too well. I guess we're lucky that Reach was able to hold off the attack until reinforcements from Earth arrived to save the planet." He then shuddered, the memory too vivid. "All I could see were flames and destroyed buildings."

"So, you have bad memories of the war, too," the brunette said quietly. "Don't ever forget what they did. The war might be over, but if we run into Elites, then shoot to kill." Washington nodded, grabbing his Battle Rifle and pulling the bolt back. "You won't have to ask me twice."

Massa looked on her datapad, searching for the temple. "Come on, come on…" 'Where could you be hiding, dear? Knock-knock, sweetheart…' She finally found it, and let out a sigh of relief. "Got it. It's about two kilometers northeast. We'll fly the Pelican as close as we can, then go on foot. If there are any hostiles, I wouldn't put it past them to have some sort of anti-air artillery. One salvo of fuel rod bursts from an AA Wraith would kill us."

"Oh, yay," the black/gold Freelancer replied sarcastically. "I definitely needed a reminder of just how devastating plasma weapons are." Massa rolled her eyes, smacking him on the helmet. "Shut up…you're seriously beginning to convince me that you are really a teenage girl on her period." 'Complains more than anyone. He's probably the person who hates it when you have to either make it up as you go along or improvise a bit. At least those plans are better than shooting your way out to mix things up a little.'

"Fuck you. I'll prove to you that I have a goddamn dick," Washington grumbled in annoyance. The blue/white Freelancer looked away, closing her eyes and trying to block the mental image. "No thanks. I really don't want to see your dick at all. Especially when we're in a hot-ass desert." 'Great. Thanks for putting the image of you whipping it out in my head.'

It hurt her knowing that she was going to stab him in the back at the end of their mission. And she knew that she couldn't afford to get attached to him, or it would be much harder for her to do what she was planning. 'I don't even want to think about it too much. If I do, I might lose my nerve and not do what I have to.'

Massa let out a sigh, walking away from their make-shift camp and back to their Pelican. "Come on. The sooner we get this shit done, the sooner we can get off-planet." Washington straightened up, and the two Freelancers broke into a run until their Pelican came into view. "Next time, can you park us a little closer? My AC can't take the fucking stress of goddamn desert, and neither can I. I'm sick of this hellhole."

"Me, too. And I'm not made for this kind of heat, either," Massa replied. "I guess I'll have to park us closer to camp. Just don't ask me to do it reverse; I might crash into the only tree on the planet." Washington snorted as they continued to run, kicking up sand. "I don't think your insurance company will take it personally if your credit's decent."

The blue/white Freelancer bit back a laugh as they reached their ship, covered in a light dusting of sand. 'Bird needs a wash…maybe I can land her in the oasis for an express cleaning. Though I'm not sure if it is deep enough…' "They would. Have you tested the depth of the spring?"

"No. But I'm going to guess that you plan on flying into it to wash the damn ship," Washington muttered. "Worst plan ever. Of all time." Massa rolled her eyes and she strapped herself in, engaging the thrusters. "What, are you afraid to get little wet and reckless? And you a Freelancer." 'Whiner…landing in water is more fun, considering we'll get a nice bath. It's not like we're landing in the middle of the ocean or something.'

"I don't swim," the black/gold Freelancer returned. "And being reckless is what got me in this damn mess. I shouldn't have agreed to undergo that damn AI procedure...it nearly killed me." He got inside the co-pilot's seat, letting out a sigh. "When I joined Project Freelancer, I was pretty sure that getting a hundred rifles pointed at me, being the Director's scapegoat, and doing the Chairman's dirty work was not in the job description."

"Neither was going after a rogue AI," Massa added, flying the ship away. 'None of this bullshit was. We joined to stop the Insurrection from tearing the UNSC apart, with the Covenant War now over and Operation: TREBUCHET now active again. Project Freelancer was designed to end the mess as quick as possible…and yet, we've done nothing. The Insurrection is getting new technology from somewhere, and we can't find their source.'

"Do you think that someone is purposely throwing arms on the barbeque to keep the war simmering for as long as possible?" Washington asked. "I mean, explain how else we haven't crushed them by now." Massa narrowed her green eyes, thinking. "Yes. However, we don't know who it is, or why they're doing it." 'One of those neutral guilds, maybe? But even the Blade Alliance isn't capable of that, and they're one of the biggest guilds in the galaxy. Not to mention this isn't their style…they're more of an assassin group. They don't deal in black-market weapons and equipment.'

Massa saw the temple loom into view, and a quick survey showed no contacts within a twenty meter radius of the structure. However, it was impossible for the dropship's scanners to penetrate the thick sandstone walls. 'Damn. Even the enhanced motion detector can't see inside. For all we know, there's a horde of hinge-heads inside, waiting to kill us.' "No antiaircraft batteries in sight. We're landing."

"Yay," Washington murmured, shouldering his rifle. "I hope to God there's some damn Elites inside. I need to shoot something." The Pelican landed, and the two Freelancers exited the dropship, weapons raised.

The entrance to the temple was eerily dark, and it looked liked it belonged in some creepy dark forest in the middle of nowhere rather than a dry, sandy hellhole. Massa walked forward with her Sniper Rifle, her eyes narrowed. "Turn your night-vision on. We can't see a damn thing otherwise."

"Got it," Washington replied. Both Freelancers activated their night-vision, and Massa let out a long, heartfelt swear as she saw them. "Fuuuuuck…" 'Ah shit. I was hoping for maybe five to ten Elites. Wasn't expecting an entire Phantom's worth of them.'

In front of the two Freelancers were a group of twenty, maybe thirty Elites. And judging by the furious growls, snarls, and reaches for their weapons, they weren't exactly in a talking mood. "Shisnos!"

"Hey, assholes, I have a little something for you," Washington growled, firing a three round burst from his Battle Rifle. "And it's from my rifle." The bullets impacted on the lead Elite's face, and purple blood splashed out as it slumped to the ground. The Elites snarled and drew their Plasma Rifles, firing furious bursts. "You will be crushed, like so many of your kind have."

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear your fake noble bullshit," Washington spat back, yanking the pin from a Fragmentation Grenade and throwing it. Massa was surprised at his immense hatred of the Sangheili, and she threw a Drop Shield down, shielding them from harm. 'Kid really hates them. He must have lost someone important to him in the war.'

She pulled the bolt back on her rifle, and just as the shield finally gave way, she fired twice. Two high-velocity rounds struck a pair of Elites, and the two dead alien warriors dropped to the ground. "You lost someone, didn't you? Someone who you loved."

Washington hissed, and he rolled out of the way of a Fuel Rod burst before releasing a trio of bursts. "I don't want to talk about it." Massa caught a flash of silver, and her green eyes widened as she saw it was a small pendant around the black/gold Freelancer's neck. 'A gift, maybe? It's not just a pair of dog-tags.'

She looked away, not wanting to pry into his past, and ducked out of the way of an Elite that got a little too close for her liking. Its Energy Sword slashed down, getting stuck in the thick sandstone, and its wielder growled in frustration as it tried to free its weapon. "Dumbass."

Massa kicked it onto the ground, leveled her rifle at its head, and fired. The long-range weapon jerked against her shoulder, and the Elite's head exploded, showering her armor in guts and purple blood. "Ugh. Smells even worse than shit. And why the hell is everything with you bastards purple? It's like a tacky nightclub, except without the disco ball or mysterious stains on the carpet." 'Or a hooker's boudoir.'

A quick count told her that there were only a handful of Elites left, and the blue/white Freelancer paused to grab her DMR from her back, loading one of the special explosive clips inside. 'This will get messy. But they deserve what they'll get.' She imagined that when they did glass a planet, the bastards did some sort of prayer to sanctify the act or some other voodoo bullshit.

Massa looked through her scope and fired, her green gaze unflinching as an Elite fell in a heap. The special explosive round left a messy hole in the alien's midsection, and the sandy ground was slowly turning purple. She heard a series of heavy footsteps from behind, and she whirled around to fire directly through two Elites, intestines pouring out. One of the alien warriors managed to catch its internals before it collapsed, dead. 'I bet you felt like gods, assholes. And that was for what you did to Ilyccia.'

Washington had discarded his empty rifle and instead to proceeded to beat the last Elite to death with his bare hands, repeating landing heavy blows on its face and breaking the skull. Once the alien stopped twitching, he removed his helmet to spit on the corpse, his grey eyes dark with fury and loss. "That was for New Alexandria."

He picked up his empty Battle Rifle, reloading it and murmuring something that Massa was unable to hear. 'I feel even worse for him. Not only did he lose someone to the war, but he'll end up betrayed by a person in the same position as him.' The brunette lowered her DMR, walking forward and using her scanner to not get lost. "Come; we have to get Epsilon and get our main targets." 'Scanners indicate it opens up a bit, and there's nothing on the motion detector.'

"Right." Washington slid his helmet back on, and the two of them carefully made their way deeper inside the ancient temple. Strangely, it started to get easier to see as they went deeper inside, with more sunlight passing through. 'What the hell? We don't need our night-vision to see anymore.'

'This doesn't make any damn sense! It should be pitch black, but instead, it's getting lighter and lighter with each meter,' Massa thought, stopping as her foot hit something small, round, and metal. "What the hell?" She looked down, and her eyes widened as she saw it was a helmet. A black and blue MJOLNIR Mark VI, to be exact.

She picked it up, and there was no identification number on it. 'Damn. Maybe a Freelancer got killed here? But which one? This doesn't belong to Georgia. The color's all wrong.' "Someone's here. Keep your eyes open." She placed the helmet down, looking up ahead. Even though they were well inside the temple, it was very easy to see what was in front of them.

They were in some sort of chamber, with several ledges running at least three meters above them. But, on a small bench in the middle, something was lying there. Something they were looking for. "There!"

An AI unit. And it could only belong to one AI: Epsilon.

Washington backed away, for his own experiences with the rogue AI were not at all pleasant. "You get it. I'm not touching that damn thing for as long as I live." Massa rolled her eyes, and reached forward to pick it up when she heard a cold, yet amused, voice. "Well, well. Look who is 'ere, ja."

Above them was a man wearing blue armor, an Energy Sword hilt in his hands. Yeager, the leader of the Basilisk's Fang mercenary guild. Massa's jaw clenched, and she raised her rifle. "What the hell are you doing here, Yeager?"

"My, my. You really ought to watch zat pretty little tongue of yours, Mariah," Yeager laughed, flicking his wrist and igniting the Energy Sword's red blade. "Zough, you wouldn't be ze first to lose a part of your anatomy zis week, ja." Massa growled at the mention of her true name and fired her DMR, only for the mercenary leader to produce a small shield on his left wrist and deflect the explosive round into the sand. "Shut up, asshole." 'Black market weapons and equipment…him!? He's been the one supplying those traitors!?'

"Ooooh, a feisty little minx, aren't you~?" Yeager purred. "I like a girl who has a little spice to her, ja." He then looked down at Washington, who had his rifle pointed at him. "Zough it seems to me you already have yourself a nice little boyfriend, ja."

"He's not my boyfriend," Massa hissed, her fury growing. "And you've been supplying the Insurrection, haven't you!?" She fired again, but the mercenary leader merely produced the small shield again to deflect it. "My lips are sealed shut tightly on zat matter, ja. But, it would be very bad for me business if ze UNSC gets too strong, ja."

'Asshole practically admitted to it,' the blue/white Freelancer thought in fury. "You fucking asshole!" She reached for a grenade on her belt when Yeager threw a small orange device at them, laughing. "As much fun as it would be to sit and play with you, I have a business to run, ja. Captain, please, do zem ze favor of separating zeir heads from zeir bodies."

The orange device erupted into flames, and Massa threw down a Drop Shield, shielding them from the intense fires. "That son of a bitch!" Washington growled in agreement, and as the fires died away, he let out a hiss. "He's gone. The bastard got away."

And Yeager wasn't the only thing missing. Epsilon's AI unit was also gone, having been snagged by the mercenary leader while the two Freelancers were distracted by the fiery grenade. And in front of them were a group of ODSTs, and Massa drew her Sniper Rifle from her back. "Dammit! Get out of the way!" 'Fuck! How the hell did the UNSC find us!? Or are these guys being employed by Yeager as well?'

A man appeared from the left, clad in black and blue armor. His black hair was tinged with silver streaks, and both of his arms were robotic. The mysterious man faced the ODSTs and gave them a quiet nod, the soldiers saluting before leaving the chamber.

"Who the hell is he?" Washington whispered. Massa shook her head, trying to wonder why the newcomer seemed so familiar to her. "No idea." 'He looks familiar…why? Who is he?'

Her FOF tag then showed her another interesting feature, and it wasn't one she was expecting. "What the hell? It's saying he's…a Freelancer!" 'But who? Is he the one who left his helmet back there?'

The man then faced her through cool green eyes, his face expressionless. "I guess there's no fooling your equipment, is there?" Massa's own eyes widened, and her heart began to pound in her chest as she recognized the mysterious Freelancer in front of her from his voice. 'N-no…it can't be!' "New Jersey!?"

When Massa and Missouri first joined Project Freelancer, they were still brash kids who weren't great fighters. However, being a veteran soldier, Agent New Jersey took them under his wing and trained them, making them formidable Freelancers worthy of being in the project. However, he had lost his right leg, arms and left eye due to a series of Fragmentation Grenade blasts, and retired from the UNSC. Or so Massa thought. "What the hell are you doing, Jersey?"

The black/blue Freelancer looked at her, his eyes frosty. "Consulting with you is not one of my duties." The coldness of his tone surprised the brunette, and she gasped. "New Jersey!" 'No…this can't be happening!'

"Great. So that asshole Yeager has a Freelancer wrapped around his thumb," Washington growled. "You can't possibly be thinking of stopping us now, do you?" Massa's heart was pounding harder, and she swallowed nervously, for she knew firsthand that New Jersey was one hell of a fighter. He was one of the original Freelancers, and the only one she could accurately say who was capable of rivaling Carolina and Texas in terms of pure skill. 'Please…I don't want to fight you!'

New Jersey reached for his weapons, a pair of SMGs. Washington let out a small gasp of surprise, bringing his Battle Rifle to bear. "What the hell!?" Massa shakily raised her own rifle, for she knew she could never hope to beat her former trainer in a fight. 'New Jersey…why did it have to be this way? Why?'

New Jersey aimed his weapons at the two, his green gaze cold and calm.

"Captain Ryan Schwann, formerly Agent New Jersey of Project Freelancer. Pleased to do battle."

A/N: Sorry guys, but I've decided to do the fight between New Jersey/Captain Schwann and Wash and Massa next chapter, mainly to think how I'll write it. As for Yeager talking the way he does…well, my editor and I wanted him to be as much of an asshole as possible, including his speech XD. If he doesn't sound like a damn European dickhole, then I don't know who does.

P.S. Who else is excited for RWBY Volume 4? That trailer literally made me have a nerdgasm XD.