A/N: Ho. Ly. Shit. Forty fuckin' chapters. I really cannot believe I've been writing this story for so long. To commemorate this milestone, you'll see a return of Carolina, the introduction of Jun (he won't catch up with them just yet), and Alpha and Tucker's contest that's been postponed for the last two chapters. And for a bit of fun, Tex's random pregnancy cravings (yes, that's a thing) are going to be whatever I happen to have the munchies for that chapter.

*Chapter 40*

Sidewinder

Carolina limped down a particularly slippery hill, biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out in pain. She had woken up to find herself buried under nearly two feet of snow, and it had taken her almost three weeks to regain even limited mobility. She didn't know exactly how long she was out for, but it was certainly a long time. And by her estimates, she had broken too many bones to properly recover anytime soon.

Her Recon armor was gone, having been ruined beyond repair. It had been severely breached in critical locations, and with the suit's reactor failing thanks to the automated life support system running for far too long without a break, the redheaded Freelancer had no choice but to remove it, activate its failsafe and send it out with a bang. She was only wearing her black bodysuit, and even that was cut open in a few different locations. Blood was dripping from wounds on her arms and the back of her legs, and she was pretty sure she had a severe knee injury, judging by how much it hurt to put any sort of weight on it.

Carolina stopped to take a breather, panting from the effort. Her pride was ruined, and it angered her. She was furious at being reduced to a wounded deer, at barely being able to raise a Magnum thanks to a pair of fractured wrists from when Missouri threw her off of the cliff. And her head throbbed constantly, making her believe she was concussed. 'I'd rather be dead than crippled.'

Her left leg was mostly fine, apart from a broken tibia. Blood was leaking out from the gash on her lower leg, and the redhead fell to her knees, her bloody hands grasping ice. 'Dammit!' The temptation to scream in frustration seized her briefly, but the resulting shockwaves from the noise could possibly cause an avalanche and bury her permanently.

Carolina squeezed her green eyes shut as she struggled to her feet, every last cell in her body screaming in protest. She could feel every throbbing wound, every broken bone, and it took a hell of a lot of effort to not cry out in agony. She managed to limp forward again, and she wiped a trickle of blood from her lip, gritting her teeth. 'I have to know what happened to the others while I was out.'

Her vision was slightly hazy, and she spotted a large structure in the distance. Its shape suggested it was human in origin, and Carolina slowly began to make her way over to it. She was leaving a crimson trail behind her, the snow and ice stained with her blood. 'UNSC, hopefully…'

The wind started to blow, the icy cold biting her exposed wounds. Snow began to fall, and the howling winds suggested a blizzard was well on its way as Carolina limped towards the building. She thought about what happened to her missing friends, especially a certain nice handsome man and someone who was there during a few rough times in Project Freelancer. 'York…'

'Wash…'

The redhead heard an alarm start to go off as she approached the facility, and it was only about thirty seconds before a Warthog drove out towards her. The person driving was encased in light green Scout armor, and he had a distinct accent as he got out of the vehicle, a Sniper Rifle in his hands. "This is a private UNSC facility. Please state your identity and intentions."

Carolina's legs started to buckle, and she took one step forward before collapsing onto the snowy ground, her vision turning dark. She was aware of her head hitting the ice, and she coughed out one final sentence before she blacked out completely. "I-it's Carolina…" Her head went limp, and she accepted the inky darkness.

-0-

Jun looked down at the unconscious woman in front of him, placing his rifle across his back. "Damn. You're not in good shape at all, miss." He picked her up, and he was surprised at the extent of her injuries. "My God…" 'Who could've done this to her? She's lucky to even be alive, considering how badly injured she is.'

The woman, called Carolina, was breathing slowly, and the Spartan IV instructor pulled up her biosigns onto his HUD. 'Her heartbeat is beginning to flatline. At this rate…she won't live to see tomorrow.' He gently placed her into the Warthog's passenger seat, secured her limp form, and turned the vehicle around to drive back to base. 'Something doesn't seem right. Her neural transmitter says she's Agent Carolina of Project Freelancer, yet casualty reports from ONI say she was killed in action more than two months ago.'

Slightly curious, Jun drove the Warthog carefully, not wanting to cause any more damage to Carolina's body. When he arrived at the gate, an armed guard was waiting for him, checking his clearance. He took a look at the unconscious Freelancer, his grip on his Assault Rifle tight. "Who the hell is that? Your new date?"

Jun resisted rolling his eyes, and he shook his head. "Negative, Corporal. I found her out in the snow; she was the one who triggered the perimeter alarms. Rather than letting the crows get to her, I'm going to try and get her help." 'Section Three wants me to hunt down a pair of Freelancers called Texas and Reach. But…who the hell is Reach? Surely that can't be Adam? I'm confident he was confirmed KIA about a decade ago during the end of the Covenant War.'

'But who else would be capable of giving ONI black-ops teams this big of a headache?' Jun unstrapped Carolina from the seat, placed her over his shoulder, and carried her inside the base, the doors sealing shut behind him. The current commanding officer, Captain Eberle, was waiting for him, and she didn't seem too pleased at the sight. "Jun, who the hell are you bringing into our base? We have enough trouble with these damn blizzards disrupting our excavations; we don't need some Innie slitting our throats in our sleep."

"I doubt that," Jun snorted, walking towards the medical facility. "This one isn't an Insurrectionist; far from it. She's Agent Carolina of Project Freelancer." 'Hard to believe it, but those neural implants don't lie. Tamperproof. Keeps going on to give a positive ID.' Captain Eberle's narrowed, and her hand slowly started to reach for her pistol when Jun shot her a glare that could stop a plasma bolt in its tracks. "Don't. Carolina isn't one of the Freelancers ONI is worried about. She's been a victim of something, and I'd like to know what from. So put the weapon down." 'Carolina hasn't done anything illegal, as far as ONI's concerned.'

The blonde Captain let out an irritated hiss as she stalked away, for Jun wielded a bit more power than her. "Whatever. I'm sending Dr. Zech to you. Lieutenant Dunkelman will stand guard outside, in case something happens." The Spartan IV trainer placed Carolina down onto gurney, and he removed his Scout helmet as the aforementioned doctor entered. "Alright, what's this I hear about you finding one of the members of Project Freelancer who is also supposed to be dead?"

Her white lab coat covered her black dress, and she gave the Freelancer a look. "Agent Carolina? Wasn't she killed nearly two months ago?" Dr. Zech then met Jun's exasperated gaze, and she let out a sigh. "You know what, forget I asked. Now, get out while I operate on her. The last thing I need is someone else to worry about."

Jun chuckled to himself, walking out and leaving the doctor to do her work. Outside, Lieutenant Dunkelman was standing guard, and she didn't look too impressed for some reason. "You've got a call for you from CINCONI. I think the spooks are getting pissed off with these Freelancers causing more trouble than Venezia."

"I'm on it," the former Spartan III muttered as he hurried to reach his quarters and receive the call in private. CINCONI Osman wasn't someone who liked to be kept waiting. 'Adam, if it's you, then ONI must be mistaken. You would never become an Insurrectionist; hell, you killed more of them than the rest of the Spartan IIIs.'

'Just exactly what the hell are you doing to make them label you as a war criminal?' He entered his own quarters, and a message on his personal tablet from Admiral Osman flashed up. "Sierra Alpha-266. If you are receiving, then acknowledge immediately. That is a direct order."

"Jun here. Go ahead, Admiral." Jun took a seat at his desk, picking up a lukewarm cup of coffee. Admiral Osman was a washout from the Spartan II program, after her body started rejecting some of the genetic enhancements and nearly killed her. But it made her resolve even stronger; she didn't even blink when she ordered Dr. Halsey to be tried for war crimes and executed.

"Our latest satellite imagery from the orbital research facility above Hypionia shows a Chiroptera-class ship landing on the surface to investigate the ruins of the UNSC frigate Mother of Invention," Osman started off. "We found this, upon heavy enhancement." A picture of one of the Freelancers appeared on the screen, and Jun's eyes widened as he saw the person. Even if their right arm was now robotic, and some of the armor was part of the HAYABUSA project, there was no mistaking him, even in a helmet. "Adam…"

"That's correct. We just found Sierra Beta-312, also known as Agent Reach of Project Freelancer, still alive," the Admiral nodded coolly. "With him are Agents South Dakota, Texas, Maine, and Washington. Now, Section Three is practically crying for me to send out black-ops team Delta-Nine to shoot them on sight. But I know better; I believe they're trying to hunt down Dr. Leonard Church, the Director of Project Freelancer. I want you to track them down, for your real target has taken the name of a former agent of that project and is an Insurrectionist commander, known only as CT. Follow them, and you'll stumble across that asshole sooner than later."

During Osman's reign, every anti-Insurrection mission provided the spooks with some vital intel about a Forerunner artifact. And every scrap of Forerunner technology that the UNSC and ONI had acquired in the last decade was going directly towards humanity's nearly six-kilometer flagship, the Infinity. 'There has to be something else. CT must be leading an Insurrectionist excavation team to find an artifact.'

But, Jun knew better than to ask too many questions. He took a sip of room temperature coffee and placed it down, picking his helmet up. "Understood, Admiral. I'll set out at once." 'I doubt Adam is capable of staying on that planet for long, considering Section Three has him and Texas at numbers one and two on their hit-list. I won't be surprised if he's about to leave Hypionia's airspace.'

"Good. Osman out." The screen winked off, and the former Spartan III pushed back from his desk, grabbing a Sniper Rifle and DMR. "Adam, you always were a pain in the ass…"

"But even this is something else. I have a feeling I'm gonna end up chasing your ass halfway across the galaxy and back." He put his helmet on, cracked his neck, and he left his quarters. Jun passed a pair of guards, who snapped to attention seeing him. "Tell Captain Eberle I'll be gone for a while; I have an old friend to catch up to." 'For the love of God, stay in one place for once, Adam. It makes our lives easier.'

"Sir!" The guards saluted, and Jun strode towards the main hangar, where one of his newest acquisitions was waiting for him. It was one of Osman's old black-ops team's modified Pelicans, Bogof, and it was nothing like any normal stealth dropship. Having been modified by both of Kilo-Five's Huragok, the ship had the latest UNSC technology, including the Infinity's new Slipspace COMs and new drives. He was lucky the good Admiral was willing to give it to him; that bird had a lot of interesting data in its onboard computer from being one of Kilo-Five's main ships used in a old mission on Venezia.

Jun sat in the seat, and he flicked a serious of switches on to start the engines. The dropship roared to life, and the Spartan IV trainer pulled on the throttle, the Pelican slowly ascending. "Come on, you damn heap…" 'This thing's been through three circles of hell and back; it's a wonder Osman didn't see its databases purged. Wonder why she even let me have one of her old ships.'

'No point in worrying about minor details. And why do I have a sneaking suspicion I owe you a bunch of beers?'

-0-

Hypionia

Texas folded her arms as Alpha and Tucker each picked up a Sniper Rifle, and she looked to her right as South entered the shooting range. "Want to place any bets?" The blonde shook her head, and she rubbed her eyes tiredly as the two began to load their rifles. "Not really. A bit too much to worry about nowadays." 'I'm pregnant, one of Adam's old teammates is trying to hunt us down, Wash can barely walk around without bumping into anything, and we still have no idea where the hell either the Director or the Meta are. No time to place bets on a stupid shooting contest between an idiot and an AI that both have shitty aim.'

Both Tucker and Alpha fired their first shot each, and Texas sighed as they missed, hitting the wall. "You've got to be kidding me…" 'This is going to be a long fucking day. Good thing Adam has a bunch of headache powders stashed in our room; I'm gonna fucking need them after this. Who was the one who came up with the idea of making them have a shooting contest again?'

'When did I get this bitchy all of a sudden? Or is that just from being pregnant? And why do I have a sudden craving for garlic crab legs? I don't even like seafood!' The blonde felt her stomach, and she let out a slow breath as she tried to repress the weird pregnancy craving. "Of all the fucking things to suddenly want to eat…"

"You have the munchies too?" South murmured, keeping an eye on the contest. "Let me guess; some sort of crappy seafood. You always registered disgust at the rancid stench of the salmon they used to serve every now and then on the Invention. Can't blame you either; it tasted like shit." She smirked as she elbowed her in the hip, making the blonde give her an exasperated stare.

"And how would you know how shit tastes?" Texas jabbed back. "Sounds like a horrible personal experience to me." 'Right back at you.'

"You'd be surprised what you can get Caboose to do if you give him cookies and a glass of orange juice."

Texas rolled her eyes, trying to not pick up the nearest heavy object (in this case, a giant crate filled with Spike Grenades) and throw it at both Alpha and Tucker as they continued to miss the target. Alpha paused to reload, and he kicked Tucker in the shins with a grumble. "Who keeps fucking with the sights on this thing!?"

"Have you ever thought that you just suck?" Texas suggested dryly. "Seriously, I bet I could hit that target blindfolded before you." 'Hell, Adam could probably shoot that thing looking the wrong way; that footage from the MOI proves he's damn good with a Sniper Rifle. We didn't think anyone would be able to tie Wyoming's record; even North couldn't beat it. Good thing both Maine and Reach aren't here to witness this atrocity…'

Maine and Reach were both busy testing out the new DMRs, Battle Rifles, Sniper Rifles, and Concussion Rifles that they had acquired from the downed frigate, along with the experimental armor upgrades. Maine had recently installed a pair of brown CQC shoulders and EVA chest piece, while Reach had the Huragok make a few slight modifications to his arm.

"Oh fuck you," Alpha grumbled, bashing a fist on his rifle's scope. "Stupid fucking rifle…why can't I use this fucking thing!?" He slammed it on the ground in frustration, and the long-range weapon fired a round as it hit the floor. Texas and South both watched as the bullet ricocheted around the shooting range, and both women stared in disbelief as the round struck the target dead center for a bull's-eye. "Ho. Ly. Shit. Tell me that did not just fucking happen." 'No way. No fucking way.'

Alpha began to laugh, and he picked up his dented rifle in amazement. "Holy shit! I did it! I don't know how, but I hit the target by mistake! Whoop whoop bitches!" He jumped out of his body, the robot falling with a clatter, and he gave Tucker the middle finger. "You know what you have to do now, bitch."

Tucker sighed, slumping his shoulders and activating his helmet's megaphone for the entire ship to hear him. "I just want everyone to know that I suck, like ribbons in my hair, and want to kiss all the boys. Also, South: you fucking suck for this shitty punishment, and Church, fuck you. You're an asshole, and I hope you die in a fire right after I spit in your next meal. And it won't be spit, either, if you get what I mean."

He turned off the megaphone, and Texas bit back a laugh as she walked away to find Reach. "Good luck, South. Call Maine if you need any help; I'm going to find Reach." 'Un-fucking-believable. Alpha actually managed to hit something with the Sniper Rifle. It only took him who knows how long to do so.'

The blonde strode through the corridors until she reached her and Reach's room. The door was open, and to her slight disappointment, he wasn't back yet. 'Dammit…I had something fun in mind too. Figures.'

'Wait a minute…I have an idea. What if I surprise him~?'

Texas smirked to herself as she closed the door behind her, opening one of the drawers containing spare bits of 'clothing' that she brought with her from Blood Gulch after ordering them from various online websites.

"Hehehehe…you're gonna love this, Adam."

A/N: Next up, some more ReachxTexas smut, Wash's training, and some fun in regards to Massa and the Meta. I might cause Wash some more pain emotionally... *ducks the pitchforks thrown by angry Wash fangirls* And as I said that, every single Wash fangirl wants to bury me alive.

And yes, I really do have the munchies for garlic crab legs right now. IDK why... *pushes a small bag of green stuff away* Not in the slightest. And to write this fanfiction, I find that listening to Team Sleep's 'Ever (Foreign Flag)' on loop really helps for inspiration.