Loss, Grief, and Red Bull
Massachusetts brought the Mongoose to a shuddering halt, the structure she had seen earlier larger than she thought it was. A large, oddly shaped tower loomed over her, with a wide flat building next to it. Dust swirled around her feet as she got out of the vehicle and walked toward the structure. Sigma jittered nervously in her ear.
"Massa, I don't like it," the A.I. said inside her head.
"Scan the area; see if there are any life forms around."
"Scanning..."
There was a brief pause, and Sigma's holographic brow furrowed.
"A distress signal... It seems to be a Recovery Beacon," she said, bringing up a 3D map of the area in Massachusetts' visor.
"I thought we didn't receive Recovery Beacons?"
"Well, it appears we do."
Massachusetts shrugged, and then pulled her assault rifle off her back, checking she had a decent amount of ammunition, before striding towards the wide open door. The holographic lock had already been broken through, something that impressed her greatly. Only an expertly skilled hacker could get through one of those. Sigma would have managed it after a while, as she was trained in modern hacking. If it had been a recent holographic lock, it would have taken her less than a second. However, it was an older version of a holographic lock, something Sigma knew nothing about. She wasn't programmed to break them, as nobody really used them these days. Only a human would have been trained to handle them. The A.I. had never been used for low-key jobs, in which the old locks were everywhere.
"A hacker and a Freelancer have come through here… and it looks like at least one of them didn't come out again," Sigma said inside Massachusetts' head, bringing up the location of the Recovery Beacon.
"Right at the very top?" Massachusetts said, staring at the pinpoint on her visor, "These things are never easy, are they?"
"Would you enjoy this as much if they were?"
"Probably not. Keep a constant scan for hostiles and any other signs of life. Something got this Freelancer bad, and I'm not prepared to follow in their footsteps."
"Got it."
Massachusetts stepped carefully into the building, her rifle held aloft, putting her back to the wall, checking all corners with the night vision she had installed into her helmet's visor. Nothing showed up, but she wasn't satisfied. Keep her back covered by the walls, she moved slowly through the structure, noting the little things that indicated recent signs of life. Cups of half-drunk coffee were scattered about the room, and the central heating was still running. For some strange reason, there were posters plastered everywhere holding slogans such as 'Hang in there!', and 'You are a good person, and everyone likes you.' In addition, a computer was stood silently at one end of the room, flicking through its programs, its screen glowing sinisterly. Massachusetts jogged over to the machine.
"Check through its database; see if you can find any vid-logs or security footage. I'll use my own scanner for now."
Sigma nodded, and then disappeared inside the computer. Massachusetts pressed herself against the wall while she waited. Suddenly, a flickering image came up in the air.
"All I could find was the most recent security camera feed. Everything else was deleted."
"Well, bring it up. That shouldn't be too hard for you."
"No, you don't understand. I can't. It was all deleted… by another A.I."
Massachusetts froze. Another A.I.? If a human ever deleted something, an A.I. could easily recover it, their knowledge of computers so much greater than a human's could ever be. However, if another A.I. deleted it, it would lock down the removed material with its own specific code. This code was only available to the A.I. itself, and so no other A.I. or person could undo its actions.
"Which A.I.?" Massachusetts said sharply, her breathing heavy, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"I don't know-" Sigma began, but the Freelancer interrupted her.
"Well, find out then!" she yelled frantically, and Sigma went back inside the computer, unscrambling the coding. There was a long and tense silence before the A.I. could give an answer.
"Massa, it's…" Sigma said, her holographic form lighting up the Spartan's visor.
"Who?" Massachusetts prayed it wasn't who she dreaded it was, the one A.I. and Freelancer that could drag her back to command, the one Freelancer who could kill her in the blink of an eye.
"It's Omega's code. This is his doing."
"Shit… play the security footage," Massachusetts whispered, pulling her gun up again, her eyes darting round the room, searching for O'Malley. They still had to be there… waiting, watching, wanting revenge. Suddenly O'Malley's voice made her jump, and she pressed hard on the trigger of her gun. Sigma, however, had expected this, and flipped the safety before Massachusetts had even had time to think.
"O'Malley is on the video, not here," Sigma said reassuringly, and Massachusetts let out the breath of air she had been holding, lowering the rifle and taking the safety off.
"Play it," she said, leaning heavily against the computer. The video showed up in the air, a hologram, and began to run.
"No vis," said Tex, holding her gun aloft.
"No vis," said a separate and slightly more muffled voice, which was off-screen.
"There it is; bust the lock and this teleporter will take us up top," Tex called to the person with her, moving towards the edge of the camera.
"Whoa, whoa, you said an encrypted lock. This is a holographic lock."
"Is there a difference?"
"Yeah, hence the two names."
"So, can you open it or not?"
"Of course I can! It's just much harder. I just brought it up 'cause I wanted you to realize how kick-ass I am."
"I'm convinced; get to work."
There was a pause as the video ended, in which Massachusetts contemplated what she had just seen.
"Texas… she sounded like the old Ali. The Ali I knew before she got that thing implanted in her head… before she became O'Malley. Do you know who she was talking to?"
Sigma shook her head. "Her companion was too far away from the camera to be heard or seen."
"You don't think the beacon is Tex's, do you?"
"I don't know. We don't have the new version of the beacon, which gives Freelancer details. We only have the basic."
"Basic… it's been a long time since I've heard that term in our equipment conversations."
Sigma grinned.
"Anyway, I'm assuming you implanted the beacon in my armour?" Massachusetts said inquisitively.
"No, I-"
"Sig, you live in my head. You can't hide shit from me."
"Fine," Sigma sighed, not making eye contact with her host, "I put the beacon in."
"Why?"
"Because I want to help the other Freelancers. We were lucky, Massa. With my creativity, I could think of a way for us to live. However, people like York and Delta… they won't do as well. Delta is good for logical situations and battle statistics, but living? No, I think all A.I. and their hosts should stick together. We were made together, and we should all help each other to prevent being unmade."
"You could have just asked me."
"You would never have agreed."
Well, that was true enough, and Massachusetts fell silent. Sigma folded her arms, triumphant. Massachusetts sighed.
"Fine, let's go see who dying or dead then," she grumbled, making Sigma smile, "Even though I really don't give a shit."
Massachusetts checked her ammunition again, looked about the room she was in one last time, and then proceeded up the ramp that led outside. What she found there was chaos.
Dead bodies littered the place, blood smeared and splattered along the walls and floor, soldiers dead everywhere. They all wore Spartan armour. Bullet holes cover the walls, and Massachusetts couldn't take a single step without standing on an empty gun cartridge. Suddenly Sigma left Massachusetts' head, causing the Freelancer to spin around and look where her A.I. had gone. Sigma had found another computer terminal, and was accessing it.
"I've found a video – no, wait, – two videos! One is dated a month back, and another from a few hours ago," Sigma cried, her image looking excited and flustered at the same time.
"Play the older one first."
The video appeared in the air in front of her, and she instantly recognised one of the soldiers, the one in white armour.
"Wyoming," said a man in purple armour with a strangely evil and familiar voice, "what have you got to report to me?"
"It appears our dear Tex is out to destroy you, Omega."
Massachusetts flinched, but continued to watch the footage.
"Tex, eh? How did you come by this knowledge?"
"She appeared at our base and killed several of my men. I have one survivor who can recount the tale gladly for you, old chap."
"Good, good… torture him until he tells us everything!"
Suddenly Omega shuddered, and his host took over.
"Wait, now that's not very nice, Mister!" Doc cried, scandalised.
"Force him to drink Red Bull until he can no more, and then, when he has given us the answers, force him to drink Red Bull anyway until he explodes! Mwahahahahaha! Mwahahahahahahaaaaaa! Mwahahahaha-ack!"
As Omega choked on his own evilness, Doc took over.
"You know, motivational speaking does wonders for peoples' confidence. All you have to do is say a few nice words, reassure him of his safety, and I'm sure he'll cooperate!"
"But," Wyoming said, staring at Doc in wonder, "we'd be lying now, wouldn't we? I was planning to use his head as a rather splendid wall hanging. I have to think of the money problems we've been having recently, don't I? Killing him would be much cheaper than helping him."
"I'm trained in giving useless advice to lift peoples' spirits! I could do it for free!" Doc said happily, but Omega had reached the end of his patience.
"Oh, shut up," he snapped, before turning to Wyoming. "Get what you need from your man, and then kill him with liquid Oblivion! I want you to do everything you can to slow Tex down…"
"In the meantime, let's hang up some feel good posters to boost the morale of our living soldiers!" Doc said cheerfully.
"Shut up!" Omega yelled, and the video cut off.
Massachusetts and Sigma stared at each other, completely bewildered.
"…Well," the A.I. said slowly, "at least we know Tex and Omega are separate now."
"Sig," the Freelancer mumbled, shaking her head, "either I was hallucinating, or everyone in that video was off their fucking heads."
"Which option would you prefer?"
"…I…don't know."
"Well, then I suggest we ignore it and see if the next video will continue to kill your brain cells off or replenish them."
Massachusetts nodded mutedly as the next security clip started.
"Tex, sitrep!" the voice yelled, no longer fuzzy.
Massachusetts recognised it, but was uncertain if she had gotten it wrong. She waited for her answer with baited breath.
"Five of them at three six and three O!" Tex called back, running across the screen, letting out short burst from her rifle as she went. The A.I. Delta appeared nearby her, just about visible at the corner of the hologram.
"Three Alpha mark. I do believe I've received the next part of the sentence," he said, scanning the statistics of the current battle. Tex shot down one of the enemies, before ducking behind for cover.
"Dead one at three, one down, cover my thirteen!"
"Problem," Delta transmitted, "beta and small explosives needed."
"Ace?" the companion asked, finally appearing on screen.
"York?" Massachusetts whispered, stepping forward slightly. Sigma had already read the coding, and knew what was about to happen. However, she kept her silence, knowing her host would prefer to see it in her own time.
"Y, stop thinking!" Tex shouted above the gunfire. "Go low!"
"Copy!"
"Next reload; let's split up, you go Bravo."
"Copy. D, need a speaker for mark."
"Speaker active," Delta replied, hovering next to York's head.
"Copy," said Tex, loading up her gun and preparing herself for her next move.
"Mark."
"Mark!" yelled Tex and York, before jumping out of their hiding place. They ran forward, guns blazing, wiping out the few soldiers that remained who had paused to reload their weapons. Over their side was Delta, reading out battle progress as they fought.
"Reload and go. Three. Enemy eliminated. 92% efficiency. 36 rounds of 39 fired."
"Dammit, jam!" Tex cried suddenly, her weapon ceasing to shoot. She shook it frantically, and then dived out of the way of a wave of bullets. "Cover, cover, cover!"
It was then Massachusetts noticed, on the left of a retreating York, Wyoming lurking out of his sight.
"York!" she screamed, as if her words could change events that had already happened. She watched in horror as Wyoming opened fire, hitting York in his left side and sending him to the floor. Delta reacted immediately, attracting Tex's attention.
"Alarm!"
Tex threw a grenade at Wyoming, forcing him back, and then rushed to York's side, who was writhing on the floor in agony.
"York, are you okay?" she said, breathing heavily in her visor.
York groaned in agony. "It's that damn left side…"
"D, info," Tex commanded quickly, and Delta brought up a datasheet of York's condition.
"York has sustained two wounds to his upper-left chest. Recommend evac stat."
"Just, need a minute. Heahh…" York muttered, barely conscious.
"Administering field stint, and analgesic," Delta reported.
"Wait, Tex, don't… don't let 'im-"
York's voice trailed off.
"York is now unconscious," Delta told Tex emotionlessly, "Alarm: target Alpha has reloaded."
"How bad is it, D?" Tex asked, clearly worried.
"York will not survive."
"Okay, D, hop in to me. I'll host you until we get outta this."
"Thank you, Allison, but I would prefer to stay with York. He will need me to maintain his pain medication."
Tex leant forward, looking Delta right in the eye.
"An A.I. can't fall in to enemy hands, D. If you're in there when he dies, you know what the armour's protocol will do to you," she said seriously.
"I would prefer to stay with York," Delta repeated, more firmly this time.
"...That's very kind of you, D."
"It's just part of what makes us human, Tex," Delta said, almost sadly.
The recording froze at a shot of York's helmet, and Massachusetts stepped forward again, her armoured hand reaching out to touch him. Naturally, her hand went straight though the hologram and she paused, her mind whirling uncertainly.
"Massa," Sigma said softly, reading the emotional patterns that were running though her host's thoughts. Massachusetts shook her head.
"York," she mumbled, moving through the hologram and leaning desperately against the computer, "I have to find him. I have to see that he's gone. I can't leave him here... like this. I just can't, Sig."
In one swift movement, Massachusetts did the worst thing a Freelancer could do, breaking all the rules, all her private codes of honour.
She threw her gun away.
Sigma gasped in shock as it hit the floor and bounced, watching as her host sprinted across the complex, calling for York. Massachusetts bounded over the bodies, turning them over, and even, in some cases, removing the helmets to see if it was him. None of them was, and she felt panic begin to set in her.
York... he had always had such an effect on her, to make her weak, to follow her heart instead of her head; to follow her feelings instead of her logic and wit. He brought out a side in herself that she had once embraced, but now hated and despised. Sigma appeared by the Freelancer's side, ready to help the best she could, despite the fact she did not understand human emotion too well.
"Follow the beacon," she said, bringing up the location in Massachusetts' helmet. She looked at it for a moment, and then set off again, her concentration set solely on the target... on finding York. Suddenly the beacon bleeped at high speed, and Sigma called for Massachusetts to stop. The Freelancer had already found him, however, and ignored her A.I.
"York!" Massachusetts cried, dropping to his side and shaking him. "It's me, it's Massa! Look!"
Massachusetts undid the locks on her helmet that secured it to her head, and threw it aside with a loud clang. Sigma had already disabled the cameras the second she saw her host reach for her armour, so no one would see her face. Massachusetts slowly leant forward, turned York over onto his back, before running her metal encased hand slowly across York's still chest. Her hair, which was half hanging in her face, half-plastered to her forehead with sweat, came loose slightly, and fell into her eyes, which were beginning to water. She shook him desperately again, wanting him to sit up, to say he was alright, to take her in her arms and tell her everything would be fine...
False hope is the worst kind, as it always ends in heartbreak, but Massachusetts had nothing else to hold onto. Her trembling hands scrabbled frantically for the electronic releases on York's helmet, pulling it sharply and then struggling to remove it without hurting him. Then the helmet was gone, and she was looking at a face she had not seen in years.
"Y-York?" she stammered, and touched his cheek, his skin pale and waxy looking, his lips tinged slightly blue, the ravaged remains of his left eye a grim reminder of the pain Tex had caused. Why did he help her? Did he not hate her? Sigma brought up a statistic bank, and stared at it in amazement.
"Massa, the healing unit on his armour... it's keeping him alive, but barely," she said, sifting through the necessary medical files. "A wound like that would and should have killed him by now."
"But he's alive?" Massachusetts said, sitting up sharply and looking at Sigma.
"Barely, like I said. He won't wake up, Massa. He's too far gone, and his unit doesn't have enough power for the job anyway-"
There was a loud crack as Massachusetts pulled the front plating off her chest piece, before removing a chip from its core.
"His unit may not have enough power," she whispered, her breathing heavy and irregular, "but mine does."
"You put that in his armour and you'll never get it back. Once he dies the armour will destroy itself."
"I don't give a shit," Massachusetts hissed, and opened up York's plating carefully, installing the chip with steady hands.
"I've calculated the power of the units combined... He'll only be awake for a minute or so, and then he'll fall back into his comatose state."
"Sig, activate the healing unit."
Sigma sighed, but obeyed, and a green light filtered all around him. Massachusetts sat beside York, and touched his hand, holding it gently. Suddenly, the hand twitched, and then slowly squeezed her own.
"...Hello?" York mumbled to himself, his eyes flickering open and squinting in the setting sun. Massachusetts leaned forward, smiling shakily to him. He blinked, surprised when he saw her.
"Massa?" he whispered, licking the dried blood off his colourless lips. Massachusetts nodded, still holding his hand.
"York," she replied quietly, uncertain what to say.
"Why do... I feel so... numb?"
"It's the healing unit; it's keeping you alive and preventing you from feeling pain."
York stared at the sky, the pinks and yellows so vibrant on such a dark time in his life. With difficulty, he turned his head towards her.
"When I left," he said, struggling with his words, "I knew it was a mistake. I... tried to go back, but I couldn't. When I finally... did, you'd already gone. I followed... your example, taking Delta... with me. I... I looked for you. All this... time I've been searching, but I... never found you. You... disappeared... and now... that I'm... dying, you're here. It... sucks."
"Why did you go?" Massachusetts said, biting her lip.
"My pride... always got the better of me. Delta once spoke to me... about pride. He said 'I was registering an emotion, but I... mistook it for stupidity.'"
"The two are closely related." Massachusetts smiled weakly.
"...I was stupid."
Massachusetts shook her head.
"So was I," she said softly, smiling to him. Then she leaned forward and kissed him gently, a lingering kiss to which he responded to gratefully. The healing unit beeped loudly, and York shuddered, falling still, the green light disappearing, his breathing reduced significantly.
"How long has he got?" Massachusetts asked Sigma quietly as she sat up. Sigma shrugged.
"I don't know," the A.I. said, "but it won't be long. Your healing unit blew its circuits, so he won't be waking up again."
Massachusetts nodded slowly, and then did something that surprised Sigma completely and utterly. She lay down on the floor and put her head on York's chest, before staring out to the growing darkness on the horizon. Sigma took it as her cue to leave, and went to investigate the files in the computer further.
It was not long after nightfall before York's healing unit finally could not sustain him any longer. Massachusetts knew the exact moment when he was gone. She listened to his faint, fluttering heartbeat getting slower and slower with each passing moment. Her body moved with the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed, which became increasingly irregular. Finally, York's chest rose one final time, and he let out a deep breath, before falling still. The heartbeat struggled for a single moment, and then went silent.
Massachusetts did not move for the entire night, but stayed where she was, tears slowly dripping down her face. She felt his body grow cold, the chill spreading to her, and she knew in her heart, she had become one of the dead as well.
Author's notes: One thing I would like to mention: The Covenant are part of the RvB universe, as Grif mentions them to Simmons in the very first episode.