Disclaimer: I do not own the machinima series Deus Ex Machina, nor do I own its characters, settings, etc. Those are all property of Jon "DigitalPh33r" Graham. Halo and its related properties such as weapons, armor, etc are property of Bungie Studios and Microsoft.

Mayor Derrick Owen didn't need the fake politician's face he had under his helmet, but he used it anyway when dealing with political matters expected of the Mayor of Salvation City. The helmet of his armor, which was different from civilian armor in its brown color and shoulder plates at first glance, concealed his face. But he used it anyways, as it helped him "get into the act" of a caring politician doing his best for his city.

"Tell me Bob, how go things in the new SCPD?" he asked the man sitting in his office. The man in question wore the blue armor of an officer of the Salvation City Police Department. His name was Robert Blake, the appointed leader of the new volunteer police force, whose converted headquarters had originally been a major sporting goods store until its owner, in a twist of irony, was arrested for possession of stolen property.

"Well, Mr. Mayor," Blake started. "Our roster increase has been noticeable, though we still have nowhere near the amount required to effectively police the whole city. The crime rate's the lowest recorded since before the old police force got called off to the UNSC, but it's still nowhere near as good as it was back then."

"That's to be expected," Mayor Owen said.

"Mr. Mayor, if I may," Blake said. "There's a bit of an unfortunate issue I need to address."

"That being?"

"The SCPD needs more funding. The current budget gives each officer a suit of armor, a taser, and an M6G Magnum sidearm. All of our radios and transport are donated by our members who had them lying around. Quite frankly sir, we need a real communications system, and real police vehicles."

"What are you using now?"

"Hogs. Civilian knock-off of the M12 Warthog light recon jeep the UNSC uses."

"I'm aware what a Hog is." Owen stated blunty, a hint of aggravation in his voice.

"Of course," Blake said. "But sir, we really need this budget increase if we're serious about this police force. Hell, we don't even get salaries and we're out on the streets trying to protect people so they don't have to risk their lives like we do. All we ask at the least is some decent equipment to work with." Mayor Owen nodded thoughtfully.

"I understand." he said. "You bring up a good point. I'll get right to work on it."

"…Th-Thank you sir." Blake said in honest surprise, though he did an excellent job of hiding it.

"I don't mean to sound rude Mr. Blake, but if you'll excuse me, I have an important meeting to attend." the mayor said as he stood.

"Of course sir, I won't hold you up," Blake replied as he held out his hand. Owen shook it, and the two exited the room and went their separate ways.

With a sigh, Owen took a seat at the round table in the middle of the room. All around this table sat the heads of the drug ring run by the good Mayor Owen, who had a darker side most obviously were unaware of.

"So…how bad was it?" Owen asked in reference to the big hit the SCPD had scored the night before.

"Grand total of fourteen men arrested, including the head of that particular unit, Richard Rosenstein." one man said. This caused the unsurprised mayor to sigh and shake his head, wondering how many times he'd gotten him out before. "All in all, the drugs seized resulted in a loss of 23 million credits."

"Shit," Owen growled. "Should I even ask who was responsible?"

No one could find the courage to respond. The ring had become quite familiar with the efforts of Deus Ex Machina to shut it down. In response, Owen had done some "politicking", and now Deus was seen as a dangerous vigilante who was more of a threat to a citizen than the drug using crazies were. The new SCPD had standing orders to arrest him on site, a fact which made Owen remember the earlier meeting.

"I had a meeting with Blake today," he said. "The police force needs more funding."

"Give it to 'em," someone said.

"What?" Owen asked in honest bewilderment.

"That rat you suggested I set up is fully operational. We now have an inside man to give us an advanced warning of several hours whenever a place is gonna be hit. You've refused so many budget increases that they might get suspicious soon. Now, they can get what they want, and we can still keep our business going."

"Alright then," Owen said. "But other than to avoid suspicion, why would I want the cops to have better equipment?"

"So they can catch that bastard," the man replied, pointing to a picture on a bulletin board on the wall. It was a photo of Deus Ex Machina, commonly used as a dartboard before these kinds of meeting commenced.

"Ah, but why wait for them to do that when I could take care of it so easily?" a new voice asked. The men at the table looked towards the door as a man in green and black modified armor entered. In his right hand was a knife he was toying with, it's sheath empty on his chest plate.

Why didn't the guards stop him? Owen thought.

"Because I killed them," the new arrival said. There was a quality to his voice that no one liked. A sort of tone that made them all feel uneasy when he spoke. He came to a stop behind the seat opposite from Owen, looking at the man occupying it.

"Well hello, Frank Lister." the new arrival said. "Fancy seeing you here, I mean you are one of the city's upstanding helpers, head of the homeless shelter and all right? It's a really nice cover."

"I'm sorry I, uh I don't know what you're talking about," Frank replied timidly. He was attempting to remain calm and honest, and he honestly wasn't doing too good a job of it. "I-I don't want any part in this, I'm being forced into-"

"Ah, but that's what you want them to think, right? Truth is, you really enjoy the dirty stuff, it makes you feel big in your pants, like it does when you beat your wife. How's the baby doing, by the way? Oh that's right! There won't be one, because you hit her once too hard on top of those stairs. Boy what a messy tumble that was!"

"H-H-How do you know all of this?" Frank asked, his voice barely audible. He had practically broken down with fear and shock.

"That's my little secret, and I only want to share it with Mayor Owen here…or should I call you Plague?" the new man said. Owen simply stared at him, thinking his options over. As he came to each one mentally, the new guy would shake his head and whisper some negative reply like "No, no, no" or "Nuh huh". He finally came to his final choice, which the new guy slowly nodded at.

"Leave us," Owen said. "Now." The others hesitated before complying, standing and leaving the room. When the door closed behind the last man, the nameless individual spun Frank's chair around so its back was to Owen and straddled it, leaning forward so his arms were on its back rest. The chair itself was leaning on its back legs, allowing the man to rest his elbows on the table.

"So, who are you?" Mayor Owen asked. "And what do you want? Better yet, how do you know about me?"

"My name's not important, but for some reason the cops call me 'Cannonball'," the man apparently called Cannonball explained. When Owen arched an eyebrow behind his visor, Cannonball waved his hand in the air dismissively. "I don't know, random case name generator. I'll get to how I know who you are later, right now I wanna focus on the most important topic of this little get together."

"Which is?"

"Deus Ex Machina," Again, Owen arched his eyebrow. "I'm like you, a Johnny Lawbreaker looking out for his best interests, what he wants. For me that's fun. I have fun through pain, suffering, chaos, death, and I see Deus as the opportunity to have the best fun I've had in awhile.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah really. So, I'm here to offer my services to get him outta your hair. He'd be outta your way, I'd get to have my fun, everyone wins."

"Why not just take care of him without my consent and save me the time of this meeting?"

"Because your guys, incompetent and of no use as they are, will keep trying to get him under your orders. That could interfere with my chances at getting him, and one of them might even get lucky. That'd ruin it for me. All I need for you to do, is call off all orders for your men to kill him."

"And why should I trust you over my men, Cannonball? What makes you so sure you can do what they can't?"

"That brings me back to how I know who you are. You see, I can do things other people can't."

"Such as?"

"I can read minds," Cannonball said, aware of but choosing to ignore the mental snort of skepticism in Owen's mind. "I can destroy those same minds from within, and I can even see the future."

"I find that last one hard to believe." Owen said, although Cannonball knew it was only mostly true.

"Alright then, turn on that TV," Cannonball said pointing to a small set on a stool in the corner of the room. "You'll see an episode of that hospital show teenage girls can't stop bleeding from their twats about." Owen sat for a moment, pondering whether he should or shouldn't do it. Cannonball nodded at the "should" part. Finally, Owen stood and walked over to the stool. He was reaching out his hand when Cannonball cried out and stopped him.

"Wait!" he shouted, startling the mayor. "I got one even better for ya! Turn it on, go five channels up, and you'll catch the end of one of your catchy reelection adds." Owen only stared at him for a moment before turning on the TV. Ignoring the fact that it was indeed showing that hospital show teenage girls couldn't stop bleeding from their twats about, he went up five channels.

"-mercial is brought to you by the Committee to Reelect Derrick Owen." said the voiceover as the image of the good mayor faded out. Owen stood there for a second before turning off the TV and retaking his seat.

I'm sold, he thought.

"Good," Cannonball said.

"Now, I only have one more question," Owen said.

What do you want in return for this?

"'Services' usually have a price, and I doubt you're the 'on the house' type."

"Well, one of the main reasons I wanted to see you was to read your mind about your armor modifier, of whom some in the underworld have heard Plague brag about as being the best of the best. Since meeting you, I now know that he only takes clients on after they've been vouched for by a current client. All you gotta do is give me the green light for him, and everything'll be breezy and clean. No, I'm not gonna ask you to pay for it, I've been…saving up to pay for what I want myself." He ignored Owen's thought of the recent bank robberies/homicides.

"You don't like your current mods?"

"Oh, they're excellent, best damn underground modders I could find. But your guy's professional and, as you brag, the best of the best. He can make my suit even better."

"So, you'll deliver Deus Ex Machina's head to me in exchange for a sample of my DNA to meet my armor modifier?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Do we have a deal?" Owen thought it over, Cannonball reading along and either nodding or shaking his head at some points. Finally, the mayor reached his answer.

Yes.

"Good," Cannonball said. "Now, I'll go about my business, and soon, you can return to your pushin' ways without worry." He stood, allowing the leaning chair to fall to the floor with a clatter before he turned and began walking toward the door. Reaching it, he froze as he reached out to grasp the handle. He stood still for a moment, then opened the door and side stepped. A man burst in with a knife. Cannonball, moving with a speed Owen had never seen, grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife with his left hand. With his right, he grabbed the back of the attacker's head, spun him around, and slammed his face into the wall hard enough to shatter his skull and kill him. Cannonball let the body fall to the floor and looked at it for a moment before turning his gaze to Owen.

"You might wanna watch your back a bit closer," he said. "One of your running opponents isn't afraid to play a little…dirty." With that, he left.