Warthogs, Weaponry, and Transvestites.
Massachusetts crashed the Warthog up the dirt track, the radio blaring full blast, ignoring Sigma's sulky look as she nodded her head to the music.
"Love me or hate me, it's still an obsession-"
"Do we have to listen to this crap?" Sigma grumbled, tapping her fingers irritably.
"Yes, I do, and it's my Warthog, so it's my music," Massachusetts replied, before singing along loudly with the song.
"Love me or hate; that is the question. If you love me then - thank you! If you hate me then - fuck you!"
"At the moment, I hate you," the A.I. muttered darkly.
"Then fuck you!" her host said cheerily. Sigma glared, and the music suddenly cut out.
"Whaddayadoin'?!" Massachusetts cried, reaching to turn the music player back on. The second it flickered to life, it went off again.
"I'm sick of this crap! We've been listening to it for two. Goddamn. Hours."
"...So?"
"So? So?! I want to listen to something that I like!"
"Since when did A.I.s have music tastes?"
"Since when was it clever to drive straight towards a rock?"
"What?"
"Look up."
The Freelancer did, and swore loudly; swerving out of the way of a massive boulder they had been heading directly for at top speed, missing it by an inch and knocking the wing mirror off in the process.
"Shit! Why didn't you tell me?" Massachusetts yelled, stopping the vehicle to get out and inspect the damage.
"I did," Sigma replied, shrugging.
"Yeah, with about two seconds to spare! I could have been killed!"
"I assumed correctly that you'd have a fast reaction. And anyway, you've never cared about being killed before."
"Well usually in those moments of my short, yet adventurous life, I have had a shotgun in my hands," Massachusetts replied glaring. Then she stared as the engine came to life.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm driving, so I get to pick the music."
And with that, the Warthog trundled away, leaving Massachusetts running and cursing after it not far behind.
Sigma had to admit, she was impressed. The human managed to catch up to the Warthog when, half an hour later, it hit a particularly muddy patch of land. She had vaulted the roof in her heavy armour, and then swung through the window and took control of the wheel. Of course, now her Freelancer friend was in an extremely foul mood, and the conversation had disappeared all together.
"So, how long 'til we get there?" Sigma tested.
"Fuck off," Massachusetts replied bluntly. Another ten minutes went by, so Sigma tried again.
"Can I listen to some music?"
"Fuck off."
"Aw, come on, Massa! It's been nearly an hour! How long are you going to stay in a mood for?"
"For as long as I want."
"Well then, I'll just bug you until you let me choose the mus-"
"I can't be bothered with arguments, Sig. Just do it."
Sigma grinned, happy that she had won, and flicked through until she found a tune she knew would irritate the life out of Massachusetts.
"How'd you do, I see you've met my-"
The Freelancer stared.
"-Faithful handyman! He's just a little brought down, because when you knocked he thought you were the Candyman."
"What-" Massachusetts began.
"Don't get strung out by the way I look, don't judge a book by its cover."
"-The-"
"I'm not much of a man by the light of day, but by night I'm one hell of a lover!"
"-Fuck."
Sigma giggled, and then turned it right up so that the seats of the Warthog vibrated to the bass of the music.
"I'm just a sweet Transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania!"
Massachusetts leant forward and turned the music player off whilst trying to keep an eye on the road they had just come onto. People in their ordinary cars gawped at the militarised Warthog, with the intimidating Spartan warrior sat at the seat, fiddling about with what looked like a radio. Suddenly it came back on again, and the Spartan jumped in shock before turning it back off again. The song was something about a sweet transvestite, and this only caused the people to stare more as the soldier became more and more agitated as the device flickered on and off.
"Sig," Massachusetts cried, her voice sounding quite dangerous, "if you turn that on one more time, then I'll-"
"I'm just a sweet Transvestite-"
The Freelancer let out a cry of rage and plunged her armoured fist into the music player, ripping the entire thing out and throwing it over her shoulder so that it hit the windscreen of the car behind, cracking it. The said car swerved violently in surprise and crashed in several others, blocking the motorway and causing a massive pileup. Massachusetts ignored this and simply carried on driving.
"You drive me insane!" she yelled, while Sigma smirked in response.
"I'm about to drive you even more insane," the A.I. replied happily. Massachusetts looked at her.
"What?" she asked, just as Sigma clicked her fingers. The new and secretly added music player constructed in Massachusetts' suit sprung to life, and began to blare.
"I'm just a sweet Transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania!"
Massachusetts screamed in fury.
"I'm glad to see you considered my offer," Downing said, his English accented voice in a clear but pleasant tone, "so I'll assume it is down to business."
The Freelancer nodded, but then shook her head when he offered for her to sit down.
"I weigh nearly a thousand pounds. I'll break any chair you offer me."
"Ah, well, I suppose standing is just as good. Now, we have much to talk about-"
"Payment first," Massachusetts cut in, folding her arms, "or no deal."
"Right, well, you saw the price that I set, and I-"
"Not enough."
"Excuse me?"
"Massa, what are you on about?" Sigma whispered inside her head. Massachusetts ignored the A.I. and continued.
"Your men saw my face. I was recorded on camera. People know what I look like, and I am not happy. I want those videos destroyed, I want all who saw me taken care of, memory wipe them or something, and I want all records of me ever being there being removed."
"But of course. Consider the evidence already gone. I'll also send all those who were involved or even took note of you in a glance on a particularly risky mission. They won't return."
"And I thought we were cold," Sigma said. "He's executing his own men!"
"Deal," the Freelancer replied. "Now, as for Larson, any method of death that you favour? I can't promise it'll happen, but I'll try to keep it in mind."
"Actually, I'd like you to try the most painful thing you can think of, all the while letting him know it was I who ordered the hit. I'll leave it to your imagination though. I think we both know you could easily come up with something better than me," Downing replied with a wicked smile. "Also, he has something that I want... a weapon the military obtained from the Covenant, and that he stole from them. It is a sword of some sorts; you'll know when you see it. Get it for me, and I'll add extra to the tab."
Massachusetts was speechless. He was offering more?
"I'll take that as a yes. Now, before you go, I have something for you as thanks, because I believe you won't fail."
Downing stood up, and went to an electronic safe on the wall. He typed a code in, and it bleeped in confirmation. The door swung open slowly, and with great care, her employer took out what looked like a long, black hammer with a white head. Blue lights were dotted about on the top, and a strange blue aura was emitting from it, giving off a haunting blue glow.
"This," he said, holding it awkwardly, but looking quite pleased with himself at the same time, "is another weapon obtained by the military from the Covenant, but stolen. By me, actually. I've no idea what the alien scum call it in their mother tongue, but I have simply named it the 'Gravity Hammer'. Please, follow me."
Massachusetts stared at strange object in his hands as he led them through the mansion to a large metal encased room with many dents in the floor and walls. Downing turned to her, and then handed her the Gravity Hammer.
"Be careful," he said seriously. "It's the most dangerous Covenant weapon humanity has ever acquired."
Massachusetts took it off him, and was surprised to find it was incredibly light. She went to swing it round, but Downing stopped her.
"Perhaps I should explain the nature of this hammer before you start experimenting with it. When you swing it, it releases a charge of compressed energy which causes the gravity levels directly around the body to alter and change. Anyone hit with it is either instantly crushed or semi-crushed, and then flung halfway across the room. Unfortunately, the user is not immune either. Improper or careless use causes the holder to be hit with a lesser recoil, which has devastating results."
"What do you mean?" Massachusetts asked cautiously.
"Well, for example, one of my soldiers mastered the hammer, and could use it perfectly. But then he got cocky, and so used it stupidly. The hammer crushed the bones in his arms into dust, and he died shortly afterwards from internal bleeding. A couple of my men who hadn't mastered the hammer had at least over half of their bodies completely pulverised. Another had his spine shattered into nothing."
Downing pressed a button on the wall, and a man dropped from a hole in the ceiling, hitting the floor and then jumping up, terrified. He spotted the hammer in Massachusetts arms, and began to scream with terror.
"Oh god, not that, not that! Please, I'm sorry, I'll never do again, I promise, just let me go-!"
Downing ignored the pleading man.
"This person is one of my ex-security guards, caught stealing from one of my many safes. He will be punished of course, and I give you the opportunity to not only do that, but to test out the hammer as well."
He then stood right back, as far as he could go, and said nothing more. It was the Freelancer's show now.
"I don't think this is safe," Massachusetts whispered to Sigma, glancing down at the powerful object in her hands. Sigma snorted.
"You've got top of the range Spartan armour, and defence technology that is used in Covenant Elites' shields! If anything, that hammer should be scared of you, not the other way round!"
"Scared?" she replied, her pride wounded. "Scared?! I'll show you scared!"
She strode forward, raising the hammer high.
"Wait," Sigma said suddenly. "I've just done some calculations. If you hit like that the energy will rebound on you. Try it like this."
Sigma brought up a diagram showing the best way of using the hammer on Massachusetts' visor. The Freelancer studied it for a second, and then nodded.
"I think I've got it," she replied, and altered her stance and hold. Then she ran at her victim. The man barely had time to cry out when the hammer made connection with his head. What happened next would stick in Massachusetts' mind forever.
The blue aura suddenly expanded with a loud noise, and the ex-guard's skull buckled and crumpled into a pinpoint in less than a second without even breaking the skin. His neck, shoulders, and torso followed in the same way, but to a lesser extreme the further away each body part went from the point of impact. The now lifeless body shot across the room, and hit the wall with speed. Because the dead man's bone structure had been completely obliterated, and the body was now little more than jelly held together with skin, he exploded like a water balloon upon impact, and his innards decorated the majority of the wall, ceiling, and floor in a bloody and gory pattern.
Massachusetts had jumped when she had swung, just as Sigma had instructed, which was, as it turned out, incredibly lucky. In her horror of what she had just done to the person Downing had given to her as practise, she dropped the hammer without realising it. It wasn't until a second later, when Sigma yelled out to her at her mistake, did she notice, but it was already too late. It hit the floor, and Massachusetts felt an invisible force hit her in full, flinging her across the room so that she was slammed into the opposite wall. Had she not jumped, she would have been smeared along the floor just like the ex-security guard, Spartan armour or none. Instead she was merely knocked unconscious. Then the next thing she heard was Sigma wailing irritatingly down her ear.
"Massa? Hey, Massa, are you awake yet? Maaassssaaaa! Don't make me play 'Sweet Transvestite' again."
Massachusetts groaned, and lifted a hand to her helmet.
"Shut up, Sig, my head is killing me," she mumbled, slowly sitting up. Downing approached her, a concerned look on his face.
"Are you alright? Your A.I. insisted that all your computerised statistics checked out fine, and moving you wouldn't help. Still, you've been out for ten minutes."
"Sig knows what's best," Massachusetts replied, before dragging herself up. She spotted the Gravity Hammer in the corner, and so picked it up with ease.
"You still want it?" Downing asked, clearly surprised. Massachusetts nodded, and then shouldered the hammer.
"It's powerful. Let's leave it at that."
"I must say, my dear woman, I have never met someone as skilled nor as persistent as you are."
Massachusetts smiled behind her visor at the compliment, and said her thanks. This was too much for Sigma, and she decided to change the mood.
"I'm just a sweet Transvestite..."
Massachusetts whistled happily to herself in time with the music, while Sigma drew pictures in the projection beam with her finger. They had finally agreed to a set of songs they both liked, and so had made a playlist in the suit. It was quite pleasant not bickering like little children while they drove. The landscape had changed from a city background to a dry, deserted place with little vegetation. Suddenly a loud bang sounded from behind them.
"What was that?" Massachusetts said to Sigma, not looking behind her, but allowing her A.I. to scan the area instead.
"We've got a vehicle coming in fast, and it seems to be firing missiles of some sort at us," Sigma said. There was a pause, and then her voice became panicked. "Oh crap, another one heading straight for us! Swerve, Massa, swer-"
She was cut off as the explosive hit them at the rear, and the Warthog flipped over completely, sending Massachusetts soaring through the air, landing on the ground with a dull thud. The thing chasing them stopped, and the low rumble of its transport died down as it got off and began to walk towards them. Massachusetts groaned, and then pulled herself up, before looking at her opponent. She gawped at them.
Another Freelancer?
The Spartan approaching her had white armour, and a helmet with a visor that covered the whole face. She recognised it as the E.V.A. helmet.
"Why the fuck were you shooting at me?" she yelled, pulling out the Gravity Hammer and holding it aloft. The Spartan said nothing, but held up its weapon and pointed it at her.
"That's a Brute shot, with explosive ammunition. Be careful," Sigma whispered.
"I never would have guessed," Massachusetts said sarcastically, indicating towards the upside-down Warthog. The stranger pulled the trigger, and a blast shot out from their weapon. Faster than thought, she struck out with the Gravity Hammer, and watched with amazement as the fiery ball heading towards her was suddenly reflected back at the attacker. It jumped back, and then prowled around her warily, not wanting to come close while she had the hammer.
"Massa, we have to get out of here now!" Sigma said suddenly.
"No way! The asshole attacked me, so now I'm gonna kill him!" Massachusetts protested.
"We have to leave now! For god's sake Massa, if you only listen to me once in your life, please let it be now! Take their Mongoose and go! Go!" Sigma screamed, her tone rising in panic. The Freelancer became worried. What could get Sigma so... scared?
"Fine!" she yelled, pretending to be annoyed, and hit their capsized Warthog as hard as she could with the hammer towards the person opposite them. The Warthog missed them by mere inches as the Spartan dove out of the way, and exploded as it hit the ground. Massachusetts had already boarded her enemy's Mongoose at this point, and by the time the stranger realised what was going on, she had drove away, leaving them and the mashed up Warthog behind.
The Freelancer and her A.I. rode in silence for over twenty minutes, before one of them decided to speak.
"Sig," Massachusetts said cautiously, "what the hell happened back there? Why did you freak out so much?"
"I read the code of that... thing. Its tag came up as 'META'," Sigma replied quietly. Massachusetts blanched.
"The Meta?" she whispered, paling behind her visor. She had heard a rumour about the Meta a few years ago, which was why her home was so secret and fortified.
"Yes, the Meta. Now do you see why I panicked? It doesn't matter how 'good' we think we are, Freelancers greater than us have fallen prey to that creature. They were found dead, their armour upgrades gone, their A.I.s ...stolen."
"You don't have to repeat the whole damn story to me," Massachusetts snapped, clearly shaken. "I know it already."
Both of them had realised just how close they had come to separation, and it could happen again very soon. The Meta would be on their tail now.
Suddenly a building began to materialise on the horizon. It looked deserted.
"What's that?" Sigma asked. Massachusetts shrugged.
"I don't know, but we're gonna go check it out."