Present Day. Outpost Valhalla.
Operative London checked the files, trying not to show the discord in his body, secretly praying that there was a mistake or misread it. When it yielded the same result though he flinched, the data clearly stating the very thing that was impossible. He rechecked it and triple checked it, already knowing what was in the electronic records and on the written papers didn't add up with what was in front of him.
Only one body was that of those posted at the base, only one out of the dozens dead that filled the room. To say the contradicting facts unnerved Operative London was an understatement. He could taste the cold air on the tip of his tongue, that was supplied via his helmet, as he searched past the chemically cleaned surfaces in the makeshift morgue.
The deathly stillness nearly consumed him, as it had done to the various bodies in the room. Even with their eyes shut, and the few still in armour and helmets, gave unrelenting glances towards him as he inspected the names. The body of Valentin Strike was the only body that was there that matched the records, despite all the other dead bodies he had examined.
He couldn't understand it, not one bit of it, as he stepped back to take it all in. 'What could Command be covering up, with so many dead and falsified records?' he asked himself as he saw the monitor flicker. The monitor screen danced white and black with static blurs, the screeching growing louder as London attempted to check what was causing the static and flickering.
Then a shockwave sent him backwards, blasting him against the wall and dropping his rifle to the ground. As London shook off the nausea, he heard the familiar beeping of his shield slowly returning to full strength. Though he did freeze at the sight on the screen, as a tiny figure moved and then crawled out of the damaged computer.
"Oh hell that sucked. Why do these things keep crashing on me? All I did was frigging tap it! They sure as heck don't make these tins of scrape work like they used to, piece of shit!" The blue and black figure kicked the fried computer with its holographic foot.
The figure sulked and moved to the device that was on the table, the strange curved metallic orb that Operative London only now noticed. 'How did I miss that? And what exactly is this thing?' London thought as he slowly picked up his rifle, still in a trance of the figure talking away loudly to itself.
"… I mean I know the project had to cut back and all, but I've had to hold up here for so many years, not making any damn noise, not being seen or leave any damn trace of my presence! And to top it off, I finally get a fucking break to leave this god for sake dirt hole and those idiots sent me back!" The figure was about to slam its fist on the device but held it back, telling itself to calm down and acted like it was inhaling and exhaling.
London guessed it was an A.I., as he saw it effortlessly interact with the device and what was left running of the monitors and the computer it trashed. He was just unsure of it's intentions as he listened to it continue it's ranting, while he steadied his rifle for any hostile action.
"Why is it my fault if they interfered with MY enhancement! After all, if that idiot had just done as I said and not the opposite of it, then none them would've…" The figure stormily raged on till he saw a shadow and stopped mid sentence.
The hologram display fluttered, almost like spikes distorting his smooth appearance at the realisation that a person was in the room. Questions raced in his head, like how did he not detect someone in the room, as he was too shocked to move. Likewise, London was equally stunned and couldn't decide whether to make the first move or speak or to even stay still.
"Uh, hello?… are you… Walter?" The figure asked nervously after a long pause of indecision.
"Walter?" London asked back, wondering why the name was fresh in his mind, as it came to him. "Walter Hendereson?" He confusingly added, as the A.I. burst to life and rushed up to him, causing London to step back in surprise.
"Oh thank god, I thought you might have ended up somewhere across the galaxy. You must have just got hit by the blast wave after it was used. Just to point out, it would've been smoother if those idiots hadn't fought over it, or freaked out when I tried explaining to them the process." The figure changed his tune, more jolly as he raced about at speed, with London lost in his explanations.
"Who are you, exactly?" London finally asked, trying to catch up with the figure's fast conversation.
"Oh shit, should've seen this coming." The figure slowed down to speak so that London could catch his words clearly. "Well buddy, long story short, you must've got your head banged pretty bad back there. So on the plus side, if Command had picked you up, you'd be fine since… well you wouldn't be able to remember what happened. Sadly and annoyingly, I'm going to have to retell the story and introductions again." The figure sulked slightly at the notion of going through it again, since A.I.s processed it much faster than human, resulting in things being easily repetitive if they had to explain it multiple times. "All right, from the top then, my name is Be…"
"Look, you've got me confused with somebody else. I'm not Walter. I'm Operative London. One of the recovery teams for…" London attempted to set the record straight to the A.I., though he sensed something wrong in the A.I.'s movements.
"Excuse me, an Operative?!" The figure demanded as he slowly realised that the soldier worked for Project Freelancer. "No, NO!" He screamed as the horrible ideas sunk in and the fear started to override his rational side. "He sent you didn't he!"
"He? Who's he?" London nervously asked, trying to get the figure to relax.
"No! The Director won't be getting me! Not now and sure as fuck not after all this!" The A.I. zipped around in a frenzy, the colours pulsing and his voice growing louder with fear.
"Now hold on just a second! What's The Director got to do with you and…" London suddenly stopped talking, lowering his weapon at the sound of footsteps, followed by metal creaking noises from the door.
"NO!" The figure screamed as the door thudded and growling came from the other side of the door. "He's back! He's not getting me either!" The A.I. primed the device that began to pulse faster and faster with energy and light.
"What the hell?!" London mumbled as he banging continued. Then he saw a fist break the door, it's white armour so similar to his own suit as it clawed at him and the hologram. "Son of a bitch!" He called out, as he saw it flail around through the hole.
"Dammit!" The figure cursed as the device failed to work, and nearly kicked it out of frustration when an idea popped into its code.
'Ah nuts,' it thought as the only escape option became clear to him. He couldn't get Walter like he promised but the Operative would surely be useful, even if he'd be just spare parts for the others' armour.
"OK, fine, you don't want to die either… so truce. Grab the glowing device and press it when I say, or this will be our tomb!" It ordered London, who agreed on the spot since the thing was peeling the door now like an onion, stripping away the layers piece by piece.
"How is this going to stop that?" London demanded, having one finger ready on the trigger of his rifle.
"It's not. This is our ride out of here. Trust me, it works. Just on my mark remember." The figure explicitly instructed.
London nodded as he saw the curved blade now strike at the pulled back metal. The thing turned the blade around and London knew the weapon, sending chills through him. It was one of the alien grenade rifles he had often fought against, from the ape like invaders who burnt worlds, now pointed at his head.
"NOW!" The A.I. screamed as he hitched a ride in London's neural implant as he pressed the device.
Both of them were engulfed in a bright light and at a moments notice, a popping sound followed by a louder bang filled London's ears. He was almost blinded by the light, but as he blinked, was confronted by darkness. The white armoured fist pounded the now empty room and screeched loudly, before disappearing as fast as it came.
The room was now barren and no-one was none the wiser of the exact sequence of events that took place in the room.
…
Many Years Earlier. Project Freelancer. Mother Of Invention.
"Er, Hello?" Beta asked as he heard the door open.
For him it felt like ages before the familiar voice finally spoke. Beta was fully comprehensive that all A.I.'s perceived time vastly different to their human counterparts, though it did not give him comfort as he responded back to the human in what he joked was 'real time'. For Beta it was the equivalent to watching paint dry as he recalled the exact way the interview had gone.
He had replayed the scene a dozen times over in his mind, which was beyond annoying for him as it meant he recalled it far more than any human or living organism could comprehend. He had displeased the Director again, over what he still hadn't fathomed, even with the extra time to process. Beta strained to work out why The Director was so disappointed, as he turned to The Councillor who began to talk.
"Good morning Beta, how are you feeling today?" His words were monotone instead of actually sounding like he cared.
"Good sir, just wanted to ask about the thing we talked about." Beta was hoping that today was the day it'd happen, as The Councillor sat down to speak with him.
"We've already discussed that matter Beta. The Director and the project have files that are highly classified, especially with the protocols in place should data fall into extraterrestrial hands." He began to explain as he saw Beta shake his holographic arms to tell The Councillor he was mistaken.
"Actually sir, it was about the other matter we discussed." Beta's colours pulsed just a tad faster with anticipation of the answer he hoped to hear.
"The other matter Beta?" The Councillor asked, almost shocked at this sudden enquiry by the A.I. fragment.
"You know, the Project, why I'm here. I want to know which agent I'll be paired up with." Beta finally came out and said it, not hiding his excitement or nervousness.
He had longed for the moment, which had been ages now since he first met The Director and The Councillor. Since his birth, he had been in this room except for the odd time he got to go in the system. Yet he was only granted access to a very minute portion of the 'Mother Of Invention' 's systems, which still made him frustrated as he saw other A.I.s interact and get paired.
"Beta, we have discussed this. The Director and I still think you're not ready for that step of the project." The Councillor paused before speaking, knowing that if The Director heard about this, then it'd cause problems.
"But Councillor, I'm more than ready. I've passed every examination and scored the highest result on the tests. I have run the simulations far better than Sigma, or Theta or even Delta!" His voice slowly rose in irritation.
"Beta, how did you access that information?" The Councillor asked, with a curious look.
Beta froze, only just realising what he had said, scrambling to come up with an explanation that was plausible. For being an A.I. he was still based off a human, The Councillor thought, seeing Beta squirming away with gestures and observed notions of overhearing others mention the project. He knew right away that Beta had outsmarted the security systems, he just hadn't worked out how he had accomplished it.
"Beta, I'm not mad; in fact I'm impressed." The Councillor added, seeing Beta suddenly cease talking, deciding to press information out of him. "You truly are something special. To get pass our security without a trace of your presence. Would you like to tell me about it?"
"You're not mad?" Beta asked. He quickly elaborated into explaining how he tricked the system to accept his clearance codes as other codes through processing the odds of what different codes he needed.
The Councillor listened, carefully taking note of how Beta left backdoors in the systems so that he could go when he wanted, as he made sure to mentally write it down. He knew that The Director was watching them, seeing the camera move and the data-pad he carried lit up. He knew that he only had a short time before his window closed.
"Well, Beta, I'm afraid our time is up. It has been very… educational." Was all Aiden Price said as he left the room, almost sad about what was going to happen.
As Beta saw the door close behind The Councillor, he knew in that instant something was wrong. He tried access the panels in the room, only they denied him entry as he darted his hologram around the room. He made a last ditch attempt to reach the door, only just missing his chance as it slammed shut in his face as the display monitor came to life.
"Hello Beta. Is there something you'd like to discuss with me?" Came The Director's voice, though it was far from caring in the tone he gave.
"Ok, yes… I did sneak into the system & I did check the records of the other A.I.'s, but sir…" Beta pleaded as he saw the scowl worsen on the monitor, the discontent clear as Beta saw the lips move.
"I instructed you Beta. Explicitly!" The Director now shouted back, no longer holding back the rage in his voice. "You were instructed not to interact with systems outside that room!" He slammed his fist on the console display.
"But Director… I… I was only…" Beta tried reasoning with him but to no avail.
He did manage to say what files he had where in fact weeks old, to make his point though all he saw was The Director's icy stare back at him.
"NO BETA! You do not get to do what you like, whenever you feel like it!" He vented his frustration at Beta.
The long silence filled both rooms, even as Aiden Price could be seen in the corner of the monitor to Beta. He felt a surge of hope as The Councillor handed The Director the data-pad, which he saw was the same mathematic code he used to move around the ship. He almost sighed as he saw the men exchange words that he couldn't hear, thinking it was blown out of proportion over a misunderstanding.
Only the expressions on their faces did not build up his confidence. In truth it was what smashed his hopes, as he saw the other men scramble around the control room, and saw in the background various displays changing the encryption codes. The cold realisation hurt him deeply, as he took in what slowly became apparent with each passing second.
He was betrayed by The Councillor, and The Director had issued a complete encryption lock, meaning even if he got out of confinement, he couldn't use the same technique anymore. The questions raced in his binary codes, as his colours pulsed faster than ever. Before he could begin to ask any of the questions that plagued him, The Director harshly stated the thing he dreaded to hear most.
"And as you don't care to follow orders, you'll remain in that room to reflect on what you've done! I'm very disappointed in you!"
This hurt Beta, the colours now becoming one shade, a dark blue as Beta screamed as loud as he could to the men.
"Wait… NO!" He processed the expressions and ran his mind through the various facts he knew about the Project, trying to determine what he had done to displease them both. "What did I do wrong Director?"
He watched as the monitor begin to shut down, releasing the inner rage that swelled within him and sent a shockwave out. The shockwave touched only one of the computers in the room, frying it as it spluttered and spark till only the thick smoke remained. Then the alarms rang and extinguishers filled the room as Beta screamed once more, almost blurred out by the spray ending the smoke.
"WHAT DID I DO WRONG?!" Beta watched as both The Director & The Councillor faded from the scream as he sent another shockwave. "DIRECTOR!"
He started crying and sobbing, seeing the reflection of himself in the now splintered screen. One side being blue, the other being black. It hurt his head, as three names surged in his head. 'Why do they hurt?' He thought, as he continued to cry.
'Alpha, Alison & Leonard.' These names plagued him as he tried focusing past the pain as to what they meant.
Unknowing to Beta, he was still being watched, even as Price left The Director alone. Price often wondered what 'Alison' signified, thinking that perhaps the fragmented A.I. could be healed, since it wasn't a code error but a psychological one. Though the Director once again denied him access and even went to call Beta a failure, saying he was merely a test run for the perfected process of harvesting.
Price did trust his employer's decisions; he hadn't lead him astray yet. Though it didn't explain why The Director was so adamant on excluding Beta so much, more so than the other A.I.s. Then he recalled the rampant stage of an A.I.'s life cycle, along with the damage the camera had shown of Beta destroying the computer and screen.
So he concluded that Beta could well be in the destructive stages of rampancy, which most likely meant The Director wanted to see if the other A.I. fragments would react the same way or a means to prevent deterioration. That was what he told himself, as he headed on his way to check on his Freelancers, who passed him and the sealed room, unaware of Beta's pleas.
The Director however was not thinking of those with Beta, as he continued to scowl at the change of all the encrypted files and systems. He couldn't allow a breach, not now, not so close to reaching his goal. He couldn't allow the other A.I.s come into contact if he knew about Alison.
So he checked the files, seeing the last dates and times were not different to when he last opened them. Yet it still unnerved him that the systems, his systems, could be changed so easily without him knowing. So he couldn't trust that Beta's pleas, no matter how much they seemed genuine, weren't lies of what he knew about the truth of Alpha or himself.
Yet what did surprise him was how much Beta was to his Agent Texas in personality, despite seeing so much of Alpha in him too. He honestly thought he had the perfect byproduct after the process, especially when Texas came along with Alpha with discarding the clone. He knew the method of creating A.I.s was rather morbid and horrifying if the public found out.
Yet the UNSC was more than happy to create clones that would barely last days to be harvested for AI creation. Plus he was fully aware of the other atrocities they had done for the sake of fighting the wars, both the aliens and the insurrectionists. It was how he was able to acquire the amour equipments and other parts for his project.
So The Director didn't want the chance of any information getting out, even if on the slim odds that Beta hadn't found out anything at all. He knew that the insurrectionist would relish a prize like Beta if he escaped, or worse if his agents learned the truth about the things Project Freelancer had done. So he kept Beta under lock and key, waiting to see what it was he knew or if he'd even become rampant.
He was soon distracted away from the monitor, as Agent Texas scored another perfect score over Agent Carolina's most recent score. His gaze turned from Beta who was still frantically searching for a means to escape, proving to be fruitless on his attempts. Yet he had one ace up his sleeve, knowing that if he didn't preoccupy his mind, the rampancy would eventually take him in the confined space.
Beta latched onto his last life line for sanity, feeling the walls begin to creep in closer. The files he had duplicated, the one file he wasn't meant to read above all or have access to any of the secret information. He often wondered why he had copied it, though after weeks of wondering about 'Alison', he had decided to ignore their warnings and see the files.
As he sat down and read the various files of marked 'SPARTAN-II' and the 'Meta Theory', he was slowly horrified at the discoveries. Then came the long indecision of choosing to open the last file or not. Beta guessed this was the closet he'd get to having butterflies in his stomach, as he finally dared to start the video file that was the most viewed thing in the section labeled as 'Alison'.
"Leonard, come on, stop it, put that thing down. You're gonna make me late, they're waiting for me." Came the voice of a young woman in the video file, who was laughing and smiling to the person who had been recording it.
In that moment, Beta began to piece things together and although part of him wanted to scream from the pain that flowed in him, another part surged with rage. He knew now why they had locked in this room, why he had been side lined from the beginning. As he watched the video and open up the rest of the files, the picture only became clearer, as did his rage as he started fruitlessly hacking the door to unlock it.
He'd have retribution for his false imprisonment, he'd find the partner (the Agent) he was meant to be paired with and most of all he thought, free his siblings from the same fate. 'No' he soon corrected himself, 'not siblings, his other halves, his soul' he thought as he continued trying every combination he could to break the seal.
He felt the rage boil and burn his code, especially at what the files had labeled him as. At what his father, the man who discarded him like the clone used to make him. 'A failure' and 'no longer classified as the name Beta' as he sent shockwaves to vent his failed attempts at the computer, before trying to hack the door again.
The Director had decided to issue the name of Beta for Agent Texas, except everyone thought she was human, so only those high-up knew what she really is. Beta contemplated this, while replaying the video and simultaneously calculating anything he could use to exit his prison cell. They took his purpose, they took his freedom, but he wasn't going to have them take his name too, he thought as he continued to his attempts of escaping.
…
Valhalla. The Past. 6 Days Before The Crash.
Red base was busy, even with it being the early hours of the morning as Ramon witnessed the yawns and the slow march of their feet gingerly moving them to their weapons. Mech hadn't slept much, with the unease of the plan now dawning upon them, along with the new equipment shipment from the Pelican drop-ship. Though he did ask himself what was the point of sending so limited rations and bullets, when the ship could've won their battle faster.
He often toyed with hiring out an old drone gizmo, like the ones his family had got him as a child, only to repurpose it for attacks or raids on the Blues. It just seemed ludicrous to him how Command expected results when they didn't give the actual means to fight the war. Though with the new shipment that came in, he was like a kid at Christmas eagerly awaiting to unwrap the box and all it's packaging.
Mech had spent all morning assembling it, not noticing Sally checking in on him or the gathering outside the workspace which was where he did most of the repairs. He was just about to activate it when he heard the commotion of his teammates. Subs was the first to voice his speculation on Mech's latest creation.
"Calling it, it's a gun. Probably a laser canon!" Subs oohed at as Mech placed down his power tool.
"A gun? Seriously Subs, you are so dumb somedays that it scares me." David snorted loudly with a slight chuckle.
"It's a gun that becomes another gun, you know like transforming." Subs corrected David, as Mech turned towards the commotion behind him.
"You mean that old show about the giant robots? Transformers?" Sally queried into, debating in her mind how old Subs really was.
"No, that show about fighting monsters, that was named like a colour, RWBY." Subs hastily corrected Sally, who scowled back at him.
"Ruby as in a gem?" Walter puzzlingly nodded at with Subs shaking his head and waving his free hand 'no' while the other hand held firmly to his rifle.
"No, RWBY. It stands for red, white, black and yellow." Subs insisted as Mech tried following the conversation.
"What, like a kid's Saturday cartoon?" Sally rhetorically stated, not actually expecting Chris 'Subs' Atkinson to respond.
"No, it's an online web series that became popular enough to be shown in cinemas and was available on Blu-ray discs at the time it aired." Chris enthusiastically explained, talking slightly faster than he normally did.
"What the hell are Blu-rays?" Ramon finally spoke out loud his confusion to the topic that was spiralling out of control.
"An old form of physical media, before everything became data-chips and digital media." Subs instructed, getting the full attention of David Smith.
"Back up, you mean people used to pay for something that was already available, for free to them?" David couldn't believe anyone would do that.
"Yes." Chris said back to him.
"And they still chose to buy it or surround themselves in a room full of strangers, instead of just watching it for free?" David was dumbfound to hear this being confirmed as the real deal.
"That's what happened." Subs nodded in agreeing that people were so strange.
"Ok, then they were dumb. Next you'll be telling me people paid for things when they could get it free the next day." David insisted, with Subs turning to Mech for help on explaining it to David
"Dude, do not try telling him. I don't think he's mentally prepared for this much of his insecure bubble to be popped." Mech decided to weigh in his odds, expecting David to strain under the revelations he had already been given.
"You knuckle-heads, we don't have all day to stand around and talk you know." Ramon quieted down his team as Mech unveiled his work, who stepped aside for the others to see.
A suit of armour stood there, using a Mark VI helmet and in standard Red army issued colouring, all except for one sandy brown stripe that went down the back and top of the helmet. It remained motionless even as Mech gave it a quick wipe clean.
"Ok Red Team, this here is in fact our new teammate, Two-Two. A mechanised robot to aid our fight against the Blues." Mech proudly unveiled the robot to his team.
"Why is it called Two-Two? Why not an actual name like Simon, Alexander or even Lopez?" Sally was at a loss for an explanation, thinking Paul (Mech) Mechenzie wasn't the best person at picking names.
"Cos it's a robot. It doesn't actually feel things, its just another tool. It's not like A.I.s after all." David interjected not realising that he was being mimicked by Subs, who was flapping his fingers like a mouth at every word David spoke.
"Actually, Two-Two does feel and he's more than just a tool. He's fully capable of assessing a combat situation & making choices on his own." Mech exasperated to the others, as he watched David karate chop Subs in the back for his childish prank on David. "P.s. his name is fitting since it's tied to his issue number." Mech sighed deeply as Subs cried out in pain for help, with every butt of the rifle that made contact with his head.
"Seriously, what the fu…" Subs shouted as David Smith was held back by Sally, with Ramon ordering Subs to stop interrupting the introduction of the new teammate.
Subs was about to say something snarky to David, as Sally dragged him back to hush him from speaking. Then Ramon urged Mech to continue, but Subs insisted on pointing out his view. Though his words only irritated the others, as he continued to quote and reference films.
"Dude I'm telling you, every sci-fi story involving machines gaining sentience, always results in humans coming off worse." Subs directly exclusively to Mech who shook his head in disbelief.
"Two-Two is programmed to obey the Red team, so unless someone intentionally hurts him, he will never betray us." Mech retorted back to Sub's wild imagination.
"I'm telling you, we are just a few steps away from the total enslavement by machine kind." Subs protested in a hysterical voice.
"Seriously Subs, you are way too paranoid and I question what plane of existence you live in." David finally responded back in a more calmer tone after being freed by Sally.
"Spoken like a true servant of the robot overlord." Subs snidely added in a hushed tone, but not quiet enough for the others to not hear his insult.
"Dear god you two are annoying!" Sally interjected before Ramon could threaten them with extra laps around the base.
"As I was saying… Two-Two is the ideal companion for our team, for he can warn us of any tricks the Blues are pulling with multiple sensors he has installed. He can also use any weapon and carry far more rounds into battle than we can." Mech waited for everyone to be done talking before he explained about the new addition to the team.
"All righty, lets turn this bad boy on then, so we can kick some Blue hinny." Ramon cheered so that his soldiers paid attention.
Mech activated the robot, the light shining behind the visor, as it tilted its head. It turned to see the humans around itself, slowly inspecting its humanoid frame. The diagnostics came to him, along with instructions and rules about Red Team.
"Greetings, I am humanoid interface model ATAT-63-C101-T2-2. You can call me Two-Two." Two-Two spoke with a metallic tone despite his British accent.
"Why the hell does he sound British?" Sally was perplexed by how posh the robot sounded.
"Maybe its due to him trying to show his intelligence, the whole robot uprising." David joked loudly as Two-Two started registering each member into his memory bank.
"Dear lord, its beginning!" Subs screeched loudly as he checked his rifle had ammo.
"Subs, I was being facetious you dunce." David wanted to clobber Subs for his aggravating behaviour.
"I assure you, I am programmed to be loyal and would not begin to think of hurting you or anyone on Red Team." Two-Two explained, defending himself as he internally recorded the lists of chores and routines that was downloaded into his memory.
Two-Two took special notice of the 'ignore Chris/Subs and David, unless otherwise instructed' rule, while contemplating their odds of survival as being below 5%. He was already beginning to question the function of his new team as Walter raised a hand to speak.
"Right, how do we know we can trust it?" Walter enquired as he lowered his hand, only fuelling Sub's paranoia further.
"Simple, by trusting me, Walter." Mech had grown furious with the mistreatment Two-Two was getting, and had chosen to draw a line in the sand on the matter. "Some of you are monkeys when it comes to my equipment, but despite all the times I could've killed you, I didn't. So have faith in me, if you don't in Two-Two."
"I'm convinced, just still think Two-Two is not the best name choice." David finally spoke up after a short silence between the teammates.
"How about Technological Terror?" Subs loudly proclaimed, till he felt the eyes and rifles aim in his direction, so he made an alternative name suggestion. "Or T.T.?"
"Two-Two works fine for me." Sally added, and like everyone else on Red Team, had ignored Subs completely with his name suggestions.
"Ok, so now that we have the name situation sorted, we can now focus on the plan of attack." Ramon instructed to his team, hoping that it'd go smoother than the team meeting they just sat through.
Meanwhile from across the canyon, the Reds were being watched via a sniper scope, as Teach kept watch. He didn't like the odds of what he nicknamed as the 'technological terror' that was Two-Two, as he witnessed the Reds begin their movements. He decided to radio in to Alex, as a heads up to the Red's so called 'sneak attack'.
He was about to head back to help defend their base, when he saw sudden movement from the corner of his visor. Teach zoomed in but the shape was too darkened by the shadow to clearly see the colour of the armour. So he got on the radio to sound off the rest of the team to a possible infiltration.
Teach had noticed something odd over the last few days with the long range radio, something that got his attention immediately. A short transmission, barely noticeable as it was tagged with other transmissions but it was the fact that it was a constant transmission, like a hidden code. The part of him that loved to solve puzzles had attempted to crack it, but with no luck as he wondered if it was in fact related to the strange person he saw seconds ago.
He had heard the rumours of insurrectionists and traitors, of those who were soldiers that were abandoned by the UNSC when evacuating worlds being glassed. It wasn't farfetched to hear after the war of the aliens and how so many colonies were left to die after the UNSC fled from the aliens. Teach had also heard of the raids that were done since the end of the conflict, since the UNSC were too far stretched with repairing to actually fortify their defences.
Though Teach did contemplate on the low likely hood of their base being targeted by 'Innies', it was more likely that they'd attack Command's warehouses or main compounds for high value targets. He was curious as to what was being sent in the transmissions & why it was being done in the first place. Then an idea popped into his mind, one that was preposterous but with every second seemed to be more plausible.
'What if it's a test?' Teach pondered on as he checked in with the other Blues, who all signalled no sign of any intruder, though Valentin was the last to check in. Teach speculated that perhaps the transmissions were in fact a means to gauging the signal strength of the long range radio. Though he did wonder why Valentin was so long to report in, even with his constant annoyances, he should've been sooner to check in than he was.
Teach chose to solve it later, when he had more spare time to crack the encryption. It was likely just another Red team attempt to cause problems. Though the thought at the back of his mind knew it was unlike the other Red team attempts at jamming the radio.
The two new recruits, Warren Sharp and Eric Steel, were hyper and eager to jump from their cover to be the first to claim the lead kill against the Reds. Though their jibber-jabber was irritating the others as it filled the comms, Alex Jones was actually inspired by the determination over the usual pessimistic comments she got. Though it was something that was slowly sapping away her concentration.
Valentin was ordered to the front of the defensive line, as agreed by everyone and to the joy of Eric Johnson, who instantly cursed loudly as Valentin Strike dropped the box of grenades. Johnson dashed back to the furthest of the defence line, ignoring Jones' screams to get back to his position as he waited for the explosion to happen again.
Johnson had the memory of boot camp still fresh in his mind, the ringing coming back to haunt him. He sighed cheerfully after a while of seeing the grenade crate not repeat like the last time Valentin screwed up with grenades. Johnson was grateful that he had somehow escaped a second chance of being blown up.
Despite Jones shouting at him with hand signals to move back, Johnson was fine with any swearing or punishment he got, especially in comparison to nearly getting killed by Valentin again he thought as he made the nervous crawl back to his spot. He kept Valentin in the corner of his visor, thinking that the last thing he wanted was the guy to cause something else to bite him in the ass. Though he was glad that he had a team that was at least better in capabilities than Valentin showed.
Arron Salt was perched on the rock formation, using the sniper rifle to forewarn the team of the Red soldiers' movements. He hunched over, ignoring the trickle of water around him, with the sight of red armour on the horizon on the hill in the centre of the canyon. He agreed with Teach on the comms, the Reds were clearly not a serious threat, considering they weren't hiding well as they slowly strolled over the hill.
"Ma'am, we may have a problem." Arron instructed with worry, as he saw the unknown soldier emerge over the hill.
"What is it Salt?" Alex demanded as she signalled the others to ready their aim.
"The Reds have an unknown soldier, and they seem to carrying something. I don't recognise it but the new soldier is carrying it. Seems to be something the Reds want to safeguard." He radioed in as the Red team circled around the new soldier who lifted the crate that looked extremely heavy to Salt.
Alex didn't like the sound of 'Reds' and 'unidentifiable equipment' in the same sentence, as she gave the hand signal to halt her team. She wagered that whatever the Reds had, was worth the risk of stealing and that meant scaring them enough to leave it behind. Some of her Blues would just want to outright kill them, but that would only inspire her enemies to bunker in.
That seemed a poor decision to her as the Reds slowly came into view, chattering away as if they were not seen, bliss free of the various crosshairs that were aligned at their heads. Valentin was about to toss a grenade, but Teach grabbed it out of his hands, then hastily ducking them both behind their cover as one of the Reds turned towards them. Alex grained her teeth in silent chatter of the notion of easily this could go bad for them, along with the thought of letting Johnson do whatever he wanted to Strike as a fitting punishment.
They sat in horrid silence as the Reds slowly marched right up to the first line of defence, so close to being found out as the new soldier placed the box down. The mechanic of the Reds rushed over to check the soldier, whose head zipped off from a rifle round. The sound of the single bullet was deafening, while Alex turned to see her new recruit Sharp had in fact lost his confidence.
Alex watched the chaos unfold as the Reds scrambled for cover as the other recruit, Steel, began to miss every target, even with a hailstorm of bullets flying. The mechanic scraped up the helmet of the new recruit, with two reds dragging the rest of their recruit away by the arms. Alex guessed Warren Sharp had only knocked off the helmet as she saw the leader of the Reds signal a retreat, who was still at the top of the hill.
"On my mark, fire!" Alex screeched loudly over the barrage of gunfire around her, though they seemed unable to hear her demand of safeguarding the Red's crate, seeing the bullets narrowly miss and arch around the crate.
The Blues slowly moved up, rising from their cover one by one, half circling on the Red's who fled as fast as their legs carried them. Most screamed as they reached the hill, but one returned fire as another took the place of dragging the fallen troop. Arron cursed as the lone Red fired at his position, falling into the water below that cushioned so much of the rough stoney landing.
Arron's vision was skewed as the water trickled off his visor plate, only returning to normal visibility in time for him to see the lone Red shoot Valentin's mad grenade launches. For every grenade he threw, the lone Red bulls-eyed all of them, creating a symphony of booms, and a thick cloud of smoke that gave the other Reds time to retreat. Valentin ran out of grenades by this point, only coming as gratitude to Alex who ordered Johnson and Teach to grab the crate back to the base.
Teach knocked Johnson down with a bullet scraping into his arm as he cried out in pain. Johnson saw that it would have been his head, had Teach not pushed him to safety, so he aimed his rifle and landed a couple of rounds into the lone Red's leg who fell back behind the hill. He witnessed the two blue recruits race one another to grab the crate, as Salt heaved up Teach onto his back.
"You did good Johnson." Alex offered her hand to lift up Johnson who took it and quickly asked if Teach would be okay. "He'll be fine, just a scrape or two. We'll patch him up." She cheerfully added as they guarded the recruits and crate back into the base.
"Please tell me it was worth it?" Teach begged as they entered the base, while Alex inspected the crate that was deposited.
As they took off the lid of the crate, Alex smiled at the prize inside. She lowered her hand into the crate and retrieved one of the many equipment pieces. It hummed and pulsed softly in her hand as she replied back to Teach.
"Trust me Teach, this was worth the risk." Alex smirked proudly as she held the item that continued to pulse away, thinking how well the Blue's victory had gone.
…
From Red Team's Perspective.
They marched onto Blue base, with no sign of any of their foes, making to the top of the hill. Ramon was bringing up the rear, still at the foot of the hill as the others were well over it. Something inside him told him that everything was far from fine, as the first of the Reds gave the all-clear signal.
Sally stayed close to Mech, who was ensuring Two-Two was operating well. Mech was fretting that Two-Two wasn't ready for field-testing, let alone into combat, despite Sally's watchful eye as another escort guard. She felt he was worried over nothing as they made it to the top and Two-Two put down the crate.
"I'm telling you, Iron Man sucks as a hero." David Smith voiced his opinion as the Blue base came into view.
"Dude, without him, there would be no Avenger's franchise." Subs hastily responded to Smith's view, defending the comic books he loved.
"But he still sucks, I mean Spider-man at least goes out of his way to be a hero. Stark is just a rich spoiled kid, who does it to get laid you know." David continued to vent his perspective loudly as they marched onwards with no encounter of opposition.
"Batman isn't exactly the ideal superhero role model either, considering he gets people to cut everything out that makes part of a normal life to have." Walter pointed out, feeling left out of the conversation once again. "You know, like family or taking nights off for films"
"One more word out of either of you dissing these beloved characters, and I'll use the same move the people of Vulcan have passed to each generation!" Subs proclaimed with every ounce of breath in his lungs.
"Oh dear god! He's a damn trekkie!" David blurted out in surprise.
"I thought they died out after that terrible remake by Hollywood in 2090." Walter added in a quieter tone, paying attention to the water flow around them as they noticed the waterfall behind the base.
"To be fair, that Star Trek Continues series was an awesome continuation, so its worth a watch, even after that crappy version with the two sequels back to back in 2103." David reflected on how easily the fans were divided over a remake or comparing it to the original.
"Hate to burst your bubble, but STC (Star Trek Continues) was a fan-made spinoff of the very original version of the show." Subs chuckled as he showed off his facts to the team.
"Seriously?! I thought it was the same cast?!" David looked perplexed, lowering his rifle in the process of learning Sub's facts.
"No, it was done by fans who grew up with it as kids, who went on to become actors of their own, but decided to create their own stories based on where the show ended. They even funded sets, effects and costumes out of their own pockets." Subs boasted as he turned back to see Mech watch over Two-Two like a mother hen, looking like he was sick with worry as the others saw the lack of Blue troops.
"You're telling me that successful, and well off actors and actresses, chose to spend hard-earned money to live out the stories they made as kids?!" Walter was equally dumbfounded by the revelation Subs made.
"Yeah, and they put it online for free to avoid copyright problems. Not one of them made a single cent of profit from it!" Subs explained further yet he couldn't shake the vibe of eyes watching him.
"Wait… they put it online for free? Next you'll be telling there's people who use software like the ones in video games to make animated shows. Or fans holding conventions purely for fan-made things, that just seems ludicrous to believe that would happen." David laughed out at the absurdities he was listening to, thinking how daft the celebrities were to invest in something that wouldn't make any money back.
"And I thought Subs was delusional." Walter spoke unintentionally, thinking he said it in his head until he saw the heads of Subs and David turn towards his way.
"When you're done jibber-jabbing, there's a certain stealth mission we are meant to be doing." Sally coldly stated with anger held back as she surveyed the top of the hill.
She felt the unease with the plan, even with her sergeant bringing up the rear, and so far everything going smoothly. It made her nerves scream with every motion she made, her joints aching with anticipation for what she speculated was happening. She knew that this was likely a trap, given how easy they were walking up to Blue base.
Mech was asking Two-Two how he felt, thinking the weight might be too much for him to carry, before all the necessary tests he wanted to confirm with. Two-Two assured Mech that he was fine and operating well, even giving statistics about the battle as he registered movement with his scanner. Before he could activate the infrared display, Two-Two registered sudden movement and turned towards it, his head flying backwards as his body slumped to the ground.
"Herk… ble-ag!" Two-Two spluttered as his limbs twitched and his head rolled back on the top of the hill.
Mech screamed as he reached for Two-Two's head, ouching as the static came from the loose wires and cables, while ducking from the stray fire coming from the Blue soldiers. Sally couldn't hear any of the Reds on the comms as she gave covering fire for Mech and grabbed Two-Two's foot. Walter raced over to help grab the other leg as they made it back up the hill.
Ramon was cursing loudly, even as Sally was relieved of carrying Two-Two by David who panically screamed as the Blues started popping up from their covers. The barrage of bullets went from one wild aimed gunman, to a whole squad with rounds dancing over their heads and around the Reds. Subs decided to ditch protecting the crate as grenades started whizzing down near him.
Sally returned the shots, even scaring one of the enemy from their perched spot, crashing into the river below. She then heard Ramon shout at her over the constant roars of gunfire, seeing the grenades tossed at her. She blew them up before they impacted or could explode in range to hurt her, leaving a thick vapour cloud of black smog.
She saw the other Reds reach over the hill and double time back to the base, as she continued to return fire. She would've actually enjoyed it, seeing the Blues flee if it wasn't for the fact that her team were retreating, or that the crate was undefended. Sally hated how the plan was so poorly conceived, as she saw the Blues start to reform and march towards her.
Sally knew that she was better than most of her team, but between the comms filled with pleas and the surrounding forces attempting to box her in, made her realise that this plan was no longer an option. So she returned fire to distract them as the Reds were now in full retreat, with her catching up before taking one last shot at the Blues. Only instead of the headshot she aimed for, she got another soldier who shielded the first but got hit in the arm.
Then she screamed and fell from the hill, rolling with the shooting pain in her shin and seeing blood slowly pour out. Mech rushed back to aid her, with Ramon racing to help as well. She wanted to order them to let her walk on her own, though she couldn't voice her words over the pain pulsing in her leg.
The Reds crowded over her as she was laid to be treated. Mech was frantic to help her, but Ramon ordered him to fix Two-Two immediately. The rest took turns from guard duty and taking rest from their wounds, as they waited to hear about Sally's wound. Ramon informed them that she would be fighting fit soon, though something rubbed the Reds wrong with their sergeant's recent actions.
He seemed surprisingly calm for someone whose team just got beaten badly. Plus the team was't too happy with how crap his plan was after being ambushed and losing the equipment. They felt low in spirits for being so easily caught off guard, but not even getting to tryout the new gear hurt them more, as they wanted an answer for his calmness over the matter.
Ramon came to inspect Sally, whom was still resting her leg that was bandaged. He decided he'd inform her later, instead checking in on Mech repairing Two-Two, whose limbs kept jolting upright with his welding of Two-Two's head. He then backed out of the room, jumping out of his skin when colliding with the majority of the team waiting for him.
"Sir, we've come to ask politely why your plan sucked so hard. It was a complete failure." Subs tactlessly pointed out as the others awaited an answer.
"Who said the plan failed. Those Blue jackals took the bait hook, line and sinker." He smiled back, before sighing since he forgot that his helmet was still on.
He saw them twist the heads in confusion before ensuring them that despite their injuries, the Blues had unknowingly accepted what he nicknamed 'Crimson Trojan Horse'. So he finally chose to whisper his plan in greater detail, with the confidence now restored in his team. Now it was a matter of waiting for the clock to run out for their sworn enemies.
…
The Present. Simulation Base: Valhalla.
Operative Berlin looked over the carnage trail they had found on the way to Valhalla. Blood, bullets and smouldering pieces of equipment, were like breadcrumbs to the canyon, making Operative Paris shiver from the sight of the all the death. She dreaded that they were getting closer to whatever caused all of this destruction.
Berlin sighed as he saw the Freelancer Agent begin to head out as they made it to the nearest base. He despised the fifty candidates who got through Project Freelancer's rigourist selection process, because it reminded him too much of how close he was to being one of the Freelancers. 'If only London hadn't interfered back then.' He thought as he saw the Freelancer designated as the state of Washington, heading out of the canyon to some crazy mission or another.
Though Berlin was secretly glad of only one fact when it came to not making the cut of the Freelancers. He had heard the rumours about Artificial Intelligences going rampant, and the supposed immoral things the Freelancers had done, not including the crazy tales about what equipment they used in the field. Though it was the recent rumours of multiple Freelancers being either missing in action or not even listed in records, that made him rethink that he was perhaps one of the lucky ones.
He still recalled the shy, almost clumsy, candidate who eventually became the gruff and cold shouldered Washington. Berlin often wanted to ask what changed the guy so much from the early selection days of Project Freelancer. Yet the cold demeanour Washington gave hinted to Berlin that it was better to live in blissful ignorance, than acknowledge that some of the horrific tales and rumours could be in fact true.
Berlin hopped out of the vehicle, making the slow approach to the nearest base, with Paris quickly following after him. The two reported in and checked the room that Operative London was last logged as being in. Only the door was ripped wide open and burnt marks filled the room as they carefully inspected it.
Paris pulled out a data-pad, commenting on the energy readings she was getting. The last time she saw readings as fluctuating as these were when they inspected a shipment of experimental enhancements. Supposedly they were human technology, but she knew they looked too similar to the alien's machinery to be purely human designed.
Berlin had seen how Paris reacted to the alien items, she had come from the outer colonies, the less protected worlds the UNSC only from time to time paid interest if it meant better stability for the colonies closer to home. She joined Project Freelancer purely to get back at the aliens, yet she had found people she could actually talk with. She sighed at wishing the three of them could be together again.
Berlin didn't hate the outer colonies, only those who demanded help from the UNSC, only to then cry for them not to interfere when they did help. He was from a planet called Reach, often thinking no-one was safe during the war, as he saw the news of Reach falling to the alien invaders. If humanity's strongest base before Earth fell, than the outer colonies and inner colonies were equally outmatched.
Though he had to remind himself that was the past now, as he sieved through files of the barely working computer. The aliens against all odds had disbanded from their holy war, making a ceasefire that saved humanity and even an alliance with what he nicknamed as 'squid-heads' aliens. He didn't trust them but it wasn't his job to have trust in the creatures not human, as he reported in of no trace or track of London.
"What did you think happened to him?" Paris quietly asked, as she stepped around the loose piece of door.
"No idea, there's no body, so he's likely to be around here somewhere." Berlin hastily added, seeing the concerned body language of his teammate.
Some part of him still cared for his old comrade and rival, he knew deep down he wasn't heartless. Though it cut him deep to see Paris concerned for a man who was the reason their trio team, and the reason why he and her had issues from time to time. He knew that what happened between them couldn't be taken back to what they were like.
Berlin recalled the exact moments that were the cracks in their friendship, eventually tearing them apart. The first moment was London's tactic during the selection for Freelancers, where his decision had cost all three of them the time to make the cut off. Instead of them being Agents, it was three bumbling idiots who got to be designated Ohio, Idaho & Iowa. Though it was the second moment that truly broke them apart, as he was about to recall the memory, when he heard a ping echo fill his HUD.
Paris turned to him as she quickly pulled out the data-pad to confirm what she hoped was real. The ping was faint, but the constant echo meant they got a reading. They knew that each Operative had a beacon that activated when anything serious happened to the person or if the suit was beyond the range of a Project Freelancer outpost.
Paris was aware of the recent protocols that the project had implemented. Apparently one of the Freelancers had lost equipment in the field, resulting in the whole recovery division being formed, along with the formation of the Operative division too. She knew that losing the equipment meant it could fall into the hands of those who'd be happy to kill others, or just cause mayhem with the threat of extinction passing.
She sometimes wondered why humanity had managed not to kill itself over the years. She guessed that even extraterrestrials couldn't unite mankind to stop themselves from their own sins or ignorances. She just hoped that maybe it would be a lesson history wouldn't repeat in years to come.
Berlin knew the protocol, what he and Paris needed to do now. He was torn though as he lead the way out of the room and headed back to the vehicle for another long journey. He wasn't exactly liking the idea of saving London, but the notion of rubbing it in his face, that was worth the journey for him. Though he also did it for her, as Paris got in the passenger seat. She still cared for him, and that hurt Berlin deeply that she chose London, as he started up the controls.
Neither noticed the shimmer on the wall, nor the low growl or voices mumbling together. At first it was a union of the same words, but slowly the words changed, an indecision of which lead to follow. Though strangely, it wasn't the A.I. fragments who made the deciding factor as it headed out in the other direction to the two Operatives.
Instead it tracked down Agent Washington, it was purely instinct and not mathematically the best choice. Yet Sigma had been with Maine for a while now, and Maine was ideal for his instinct. So The Meta took note of the direction the others had gone in, knowing they'd catch up soon enough and will become whole once more.
To Be Continued…