Disclaimer: Look, if you can find it elsewhere, or recognize it, chances are, I don't own it. Unless it's Marley. Or anyone from any of my other stories. Like Fremd. Both these kick butt ladies are mine, and if you steal them, they have standing orders to wreck your stories and then punt you out the door. And through the house if necessary to get you to the door.
To Guest, whose reviews are keeping this poor fic on the net... Here's SARGE! Hope it lives up to whatever expectations you had. Honestly... the old soldier ran away with me so... yeah. Enjoy!
Episode 4: Shotgun Anyone?
Simmons and Grif were on top of the base, staying away from Sarge, when a familiar spaceship flickered in and out of sight. "Hey! Did you see that?" asked Grif. Simmons, not knowing what else to do, nodded.
"Yeah. I've been seeing that a lot lately. Like, every week or so. It's not consistent, no pattern, but it's been coming around a lot. What do you think?" he said, glancing over at his teammate. Grif was in a similar state, but now that Simmons had brought it up like that, he went along with the confused bit.
"I don't know man. It's been freaking me out, interrupting my naps... it's mean." Simmons chuckled, but was watching his orange teammate intently, scrutinizing him. Despite all the naps, ducking of responsibility, and snacking, Grif was fairly fit, as far as Simmons could tell with all that armor on. Seriously, Simmons rarely saw the other man without some form of snack in hand and yet he really wasn't all that fat. Grif tilted his head toward Simmons, silently questioning him.
"Oh. Yeah. It is. Every time it flickers by, it messes with my systems, like it's putting out electromagnetic pulses as it goes," Simmons said, putting aside his musing on his teammate's contradictory physique and trying to sound casual. He was panicking, just a little, and wondering what Marley was doing, showing herself like that. And not taking him. Grif nodded, wondering the exact same thing.
"Whatever you say. Geek," he said. Simmons glared halfheartedly at the other man.
"Slacker," he countered. There was a slight pause before Grif countered with,
"Suck up." Simmons wasn't sure, but it sounded like his teammate was smirking.
"Pig," he shot back, referring to his room, which really did look like a pig sty. Or a natural disaster, but pig fit into the flow of their 'argument' better than 'walking tornado.'
"Neat freak," Grif returned, sounding bored. Simmons grit his teeth.
"Walking trash can," he grit out.
"Germaphobe," Grif countered swiftly, anger creeping into his tone. Simmons decided discretion was the better part of valor and changed the subject.
/*/
Captain Flowers, formerly known as Agent Florida, watched the spaceship flicker in the atmosphere over Red Base as well, but with far more trepidation than the other Reds. The ship concerned him, making so many trips to Red Base. If he didn't want to alarm anyone over at Project Freelancer, which he didn't, it was time to call the one person he really didn't want to. Agent Black. A data-pad number had been imbedded in a transmission from 'Blue Command' with the tag AB. It wasn't hard to figure out whose it was. The pad 'rang' for a moment and then a voice Flowers never thought he'd heard again came over the airwaves. "Ah! Flowdie! I was wondering when you'd give me a ring! When are you planning your funeral for? Oh! Are you really allergic to aspirin? Cause, if you aren't, that could be an easy out. If you are... don't take any needles from Church, he doesn't know what he's doing!" Agent Oregon said oh-so-cheerily.
"Oregon?!" Flowers asked, voice squeaking slightly in shock. That achingly familiar laugh came through the data pad before,
"Name's Black. Agent Black."
"You're Agent Black?" he asked, his usual persona ripped to shreds by his surprise.
"Just said I was, didn't I? Don't worry about that ship action over Red Base. These guys are diamonds in the rough. And I'm a gem cutter," she said cheerfully, though it sounded like she was trying to keep her voice down.
"No you're not. You're a soldier! What are you doing with the Reds?" Flowers contested, glaring at the data pad. Oregon had always been able to rile him up.
"... Project Red, Code Freelancer." Flowers hit his head against the concrete wall of the Sim. base. Agent Oregon was known for being cryptic, but this was stretching it.
"Ore..." he began, drawing the word out in his frustration.
"You'll see when you join the Phantoms in the Void," Oregon said, cutting him off.
"Black..." he growled, feeling his shoulders tense.
"I promise, Butch, things will clear up. But we are cursed, Butch. We are cursed to live in interesting times and where the Alpha goes, events follow. Project Freelancer is failing, Butch. In fact, it's already failed. I'm just waiting until it starts to seriously implode. That's when I'll reveal myself fully. But for now, I'm a Phantom in the business of making other Phantoms. I'm also working on a personal project. Project Red. Now, I'm getting ready to jump to HS, so I'm gonna say keep your nose clean and contact me when the assignment wears on you. And if you're allergic to aspirin, don't take any needles from Church. Ciao!" the enigmatic woman on the other end sang before the pad in Flowers' hands fell silent.
"Black! Oregon! Come on! Don't leave me hanging like that!" Flowers yelled at his data pad, but it was no use. The connection was severed. He cursed and nearly threw the pad, but an echo of Oregon's calm, steady voice halted his movement. 'Never treat your tech foolishly, Flowdie. Someday, your life might depend on your equipment running properly.' He huffed out a sigh and sank to the cold metal floor. He didn't even notice the tears slipping down his face as his throat choked up. Agent Oregon had been a good friend, a superb pilot, and Flowers had truly looked up to her, even hoped they could be more than just friends. She'd been lost on a mission, no-one knew quite how. Some said her nav. unit quit, others said she got shot down. A few even said she'd defected. The most popular theory, relatively speaking, was that she was dead and lost to the cold void of space. Flowers had never told Oregon how he felt, how her presence lit up the world around him. He had thought he was too late, that she was gone forever, and now here she was, flying around and picking up Red Sim. Troopers for something she called Project Red. What was Project Red?! And what was that about Code Freelancer? He sighed and chuckled bitterly. Good old Oregon, confusing to the very end. He sighed, but committed her last words to memory. If there was one thing about Oregon as steady as her confusing nature, it was her tendency to be right. Shaking his head, Flowers walked out to begin another day of training to take out the Reds.
/*/
Sarge was a gruff man. He knew it, his men knew it, everyone knew it! But when confronted with a little girl in black Spartan armor holding out a brand new Blaze of Glory shotgun and saying, 'Will you help me clear out and blow up an alien base?' he just about cried. "Sure darling. Uncle Sarge 'll help ya," he said, still choking back the tears. The black Spartan titled her head, then shifted her visor to clear. Sarge couldn't help but stare. She was older than he thought.
"I'm not gonna object to you seeing me as family, I quite like it in fact, but I think you should know a few things about me first," she said, motioning for him to sit down. Sarge 'hurmph'ed, but sat down. He was quite interested in her story. She wove a complicated narrative of war, desperation, hope, fear, greed, and moral corruption. She told of Freelancers and A.I. Of memories not her own and of discovering how they were true. "And that brings us to the last few years. I've been trying to save as many Freelancers as I can. But the last few aren't ready yet, so I've started my next project, Project Red. I already have two Agents; Orange and Maroon. Now, only two sets of armor remain. Would you take the Red, Sarge?" Marley finished, wrapping up her story. Sarge stripped to his under armor and quickly and efficiently strapped on the new armor. Marley grinned. "Thanks, Sarge. So, about those aliens..."
"Darling, I already said I'd help," Sarge said, taking the Blaze of Glory shotgun and chambering a round. "Now lets blow up some aliens!"
"You got it!" Marley said and piloted the ship to the planet surface. When they touched down, chaos erupted. Aliens screeched, men shouted, bullets screamed through the air, and missiles shook the ground. "Watch my six, Agent Red!" Marley yelled, heading to a knot of cowering soldiers.
"Ten-four, Black!" Sarge called back. Agent Black went through six clips, two guns, and a grenade launcher before pulling out a pair of hand long daggers from a belt across her chest, a belt that de-cloaked as she drew from it. "What the? Where in Sam's Hill did you get that?" Red asked. Agent Black grinned savagely behind her darkened visor.
"Eh, you pick up a few things, wandering the far reaches of space. Now keep the biggest ones off my back, I'm going hunting," she said, adrenaline making her voice rough. Red nodded, understanding what battle did and called for. He blasted the head off an ugly brute that was getting a bit too close.
"Just be careful and come on back. I don't want to loose you too soon, Black," he said seriously. Black laughed mirthlessly.
"This isn't my first rodeo, Uncle Red. I know my way around the battlefield. You watch yerself now, ya hear?" she said, slipping into a South Alabama accent, before she dashed off into the fray, knocking over grunts and knifing them in the throat. Agent Red chuckled even as he shot at another Elite.
"That's ma girl," he said, returning his focus to the battle.
/*/
The whole thing was done within four hours and Sarge hadn't received more than a bruise throughout it. Marley, on the other hand, had fractured her arm, sprained her ankle, broken a rib, and bruised both shin bones. "I told you to be careful out there!" Sarge chastised as she eased herself into the cockpit after ascertaining the extent of the damage. Marley chuckled, taking off her helmet. Sarge took note of the bruises on her face and the split lip as she started the ship up. "It's not a laugh'n matter!" he barked at her. She held up a hand, still smiling.
"Uncle, it's fine. Honest. I've had worse. Much worse. And if you hadn't been there, I might have actually died. So, thank you. And the next time someone tells you a shotgun is an inefficient weapon, shoot 'em in the kneecap and tell 'em you saved your commanding officer's life with that 'inefficient and impractical' weapon," she said. Sarge frowned at her.
"Lass... I'm serious..."
"And so am I!" Marley shot back, her voice raising and eyes sparking. Sarge noted the stubborn set of her jaw and sighed, sitting back. "I know how to handle myself, Sargent. I've been a soldier for... many years. I was an army doctor before that. I am no stranger to violence, pain, and the consequences of inattention. I know my limits. That's why I got you. Or would you rather I had picked up one of my other Agents? Orange or Maroon? Neither are as experienced as you, and Maroon hasn't been battle tested yet, but they can still get the job done."
"Who are these Orange and Maroon fellas?" Sarge questioned. Marley snorted, already piloting them back to Blood Gulch.
"Orange is a 'go in and make people stop moving' type who favors an assault rifle while Maroon is a 'keep them off my back while I hack into the targeting system and shoot 'em with their own guns' type. I haven't worked with him enough to know his favored weapon, but I'm thinking of teaching him knife fighting. Maybe the basics of sniping. Orange too. I'm already making sure their hand-to-hand is up to par," she said. Sarge nodded, frowning. "Neither are as... heavy hitting... as you. I doubt Maroon ever will be, but Orange is close," Marley finished, turning her attention back to the shifting space ahead of the Pelican.
"You're right. You needed me. Glad I could help," Sarge said before going back into the hold. Marley smiled grimly. That... had gone about as well as she could have hoped. She hadn't counted on Sarge claiming her as family, or being quite so caring, but eh. It worked and that was what mattered. Well, that and she had another gun she could call on if she needed it. That was pretty important.
/*/
Tucker and Church saw the ship flicker back through the air above Red Base. It had only been about seven hours. They exchanged looks. "What do you think is going on over there?" Tucker asked. Church shook his head.
"Honestly? I don't want to know," he said. Part of him cried out whenever he saw that ship, like it was trying to reach it. Whatever that ship was, it made Church uneasy and joyful at the same time. It was unsettling all around. Tucker nodded. He didn't need to see Church's face to know the cobalt soldier wasn't comfortable around the mysterious craft.
"Hey, you catch the game last night?" he asked, hoping to distract his friend. Thankfully, it worked.
"Yeah. Man, Blue Team dominated that match!" Church said. Tucker smirked as they began talking about the latest Grifball game. The mystery of the ship and what it might be doing over at Red Base was a touchy and irritating subject no matter who he talked about it with, but Church was just a little more prickly than Captain Flowers. Come to think of it, everyone was a bit more prickly than Captain Flowers. That guy should have been a pacifist. Or a hippie living out of a trailer and growing his own food.
/*/
"Take care Uncle! I'll call you if I need an extra shotgun!" Marley called, waving at her third Agent as she prepared to leave.
"Next time, can we take the full team?" Sarge asked. Marley froze. That wasn't part of the plan. Sure she wasn't about to hide the fact she had other Agents in Project Red, but she hadn't planned on introducing them to each other. Too easy for them to put it all together and ruin the illusion that was Blood Gulch. And she couldn't let that happen for another couple of months.
"Why?" she asked carefully, hoping he'd give a reason that was too poor for her to accept.
"Well, if one's good, and two is better, then three is best!" Sarge reasoned. Marley let out a little breath of relief. He hadn't pieced it together yet. And, it was just flimsy enough for her to shoot it down.
"Sarge, you're reasoning isn't bad, but I prefer a small team. Two man cells," she hedged. Honestly, the others needed more training before going on a mission of the caliber they'd just completed.
"Well, ya got two other Agents right? Just pair them together and I'll watch your back," Sarge said. Marley sighed.
"Sarge... They haven't even met each other yet. And Maroon is the nervous type. I haven't gotten him comfortable with me yet! And Orange can be... a little much. Just... give us time," she said pleadingly.
"Alright. But one day ya hear! One day ya will have ta bring us all along. I don't like thinking of you out there without proper back up! Especially when yer all banged up like that!" Sarge said, brandishing a finger at the softly smiling pilot.
"Sure thing Uncle. Now, remember, Blood Gulch is where you can relax. Leave the Agent life behind and enjoy a more relaxed environment," she said. Sarge sighed.
"Fine. But you promised me a joint mission with those other Agents!"
"Yes, Uncle, I promise," Marley said. Sarge grunted and hopped out. Sighing, Marley sealed her ship back up and flew off to dock with the larger ship she had made her home. Now she just had to wait for Flowers to call her again. That was when the real fun would begin. She glanced out the view port at the retreating bases and revised that. The fun had already begun, it was the crazy that would start with Captain Flowers' 'death.' She could hardly wait.
/?/
A/N: Okay. That... sucked. Badly. Darn it why are these guys so hard to write?! Gah! Is it because I'm a girl? Is that why it's hard to write two guys just shooting the breeze? Maybe. Maybe it's because I'm essentially a shut in. Ah life. You can be so cruel. Anyway, next one is going to jump straight into the main series. Why? Because I'm not good at writing Halo-esk missions. However, there will be changes. Mostly to Red Team. This fic, is Red-centric and as such will be following what the Reds do with a few appearances by the Blues. What happens with Doughnut when he's missing from the main story line will also be covered in this fic. I am open to suggestions for Project Red missions. Specifically Doughnut's initiation mission. Until next time, tchuss.
A/N 2: Ugh. Even re-edited this chapter's not all that good. Blegh. 8/12/16