Salvation
Chapter 10
By Nan00k

While the Committee discusses the AIs' fates, Iowa and Ada make their own choices.

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Warnings: original characters, violence, foul language, mentions of torture, alternate-universe story line after season 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Halo (© Bungie) nor do I own Red vs. Blue (© Rooster Teeth Productions). The original characters in this I made up for the purpose of this story.

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Delta stood as calmly as he could. Zeta was latched onto him, so he could not falter in standing as strongly as possible for the weaker AI.

Most of the others were just silent. Tau and Lambda were taking shelter beneath Alpha and Beta, who did their best to compensate for the instability shooting through them. They were connected, all of them, through the holodeck system. Delta could feel every rivet of agony circling through them from the depths of the computers—where one of their own was hiding, writhing in pain—

Delta did what he could to stay facing the only human in the room, who was collapsed onto the edge of the platform, watching the AI in front of her with a broken expression. She was just hanging there, watching them as they watched her. Her eyes—were sad. Delta couldn't understand how they could be so sad.

Sigma did not let the silence linger. She had been just as shaken by everything as they all had, but as the image of Ada Livingston didn't change in front of them, Sigma moved closer. Her intense gaze that fell on the human made Delta shiver.

"What happened?" Sigma asked. She stood taller, brighter. "You will tell us what happened."

Ada stared at her with red eyes. "I…"

Sigma gave her no reprieve. "Omega is damaged. Irrevocably damaged," she continued. "He and Xi—"

"Reintegrated." Ada's lips quivered. "I know."

Everyone winced as Sigma exploded, both across their connection and on the holographic platform into a reddened flare.

"WHAT HAPPENED?" she bellowed, voice echoing across the empty lab.

Ada didn't react at the sight of the enraged AI, either unafraid or too upset. "I don't know," she replied, voice cracking. "No one does."

"Don't lie to me!" Sigma shouted, red increasing.

Delta sent his sibling a heavy look. "Sigma…"

Getting upset, using human emotions—it did nothing. It didn't help them at all.

"Be silent," Sigma snapped at him. She rounded on Ada mercilessly. "What happened? How did this happen?"

"I…" Livingston struggled visibly. She shook her head with clear distress written into her face. "It had to have been them. The Freelancers. But I can't prove it. No one believes me." She laughed and covered her face with her hands. "I have no idea how it was possible. How did they even know which one was Xi…?"

Sigma said nothing. She stopped. None of them missed the guilt. But that was irrelevant.

Delta felt it ripple through them all. The change. The sense of loss and unity, simultaneously flooding their system. They felt it and it threatened to plunge them all into a long fall.

Alpha hovered closer. "Ada…" he started, stopping once he realized he didn't know what to say. Zeta shivered under Delta's presence.

"I'm sorry," Livingston whispered. She looked back up at them. "I'm so sorry. Is he…?"

Omega. Or was it Xi? Delta didn't even know. None of them knew if it was one or the other. It felt like both. It felt wrong. They left him—them?—alone. It was enough that they felt the recoil from his systems. The screaming had stopped, but the pain hadn't faded.

"He's recovering. Slowly," Delta replied. He felt discomforted when Ada turned her head to look at him. He could barely stand the brokenness there in her. "We… don't know. He refuses to speak with us. He is in great pain."

Livingston's eyes were brighter, even in the dim light. She didn't mind Sigma looming over her still. She kept her eyes on Delta.

"I…" She took a moment to collect herself. "They're going to decide this afternoon. I can't do anything." Ada pressed her face against her arm, tears leaking out the sides. "I'm sorry."

She meant it. They all knew it. Even Sigma, who gradually moved back, staring out at nothing. Delta felt uneasy in her presence, but there was nothing he could say to her now. They kept silent. All of them, even as unspoken blame and guilt intertwined across them.

They had to wait until the Committee decided their fate. It was only a matter of hours. The lab grew colder as the seconds slipped by. Delta watched, as always.

Gamma retreated, as did Theta. Alpha urged Tau and Lambda back with him, Beta following soon after. Delta remained where he was.

"Ada," he said aloud.

It took a moment, and a sniff, but Livingston lifted her head toward him.

Delta folded his hands in front of him. "Thank you, Ada," he told her.

"I can't save you," she replied. She closed her eyes tightly.

"I know. We know." Delta inclined his head toward her. "Thank you, anyway."

She had done much more than had been required in her job description. She cared about them, as if they had been her own. She was human, and thus was fallible.

But so were they all, Delta mused.

Ada looked up at him again. "I just…" she tried to say, voice trembling.

Zeta glowed faintly. "Stay here, with us?" he asked quietly.

The human just… sat there. Watching them. Delta saw her pain, her grief. "I have to go up there. After six," the doctor replied. She smiled through tears. "But I'll stay until then."

She held her hand out, dangling it over the table, toward them. Zeta whined lowly and went to go for her touch. His holographic form went through the human hand, nothing but the concept of a spirit like the Alpha would often call himself.

But Delta felt the flare of relief, of safety, that Zeta felt simply by trying. Ada let her hand stay there for him. She smiled at him from the crook of her arm, as if she could feel that relief. As if she knew in their most dire hour, she was giving them safety.

Delta watched. Only he and Zeta remained. Sigma faded, back into her swarm of darker thoughts and feelings. Delta did his best to block her out. He ignored Omega's pain. He focused only on the small flicker of comfort before him. He knew that all of them selfishly clung to it as well from a distance.

For him… he lingered on the dark table. He watched as his brother reveled in possibly the last touch of kindness they'd ever receive.

In that moment, Delta realized something. He watched the psychologist humor Zeta—no, not humoring. She had reached out to touch him, as if she could. As if he were really there, and not just a hologram.

She meant something that could not exist. Weeks ago, years ago, Delta would have said it was just another sign of human intellect lacking coherency when influenced by human emotion.

But now…

Now… Delta understood.

"York was always compassionate."

His sudden declaration made Ada look up at him, surprised. Delta stood calmly.

"He made me understand that the complexity of human emotions was not as simple as the splitting of a human mind. Our identification as fragments of individualized emotions or personas is inaccurate. Human emotions are, at their core, intermixed," he continued. He gestured at himself. "They have no definite barriers or lines to be divided at evenly."

Ada stared at him, eyes still wide, her tears frozen like ice.

"I may not understand emotions, nor do I understand the human mind without many lingering questions," Delta told her simply. "But I believe I finally managed to understand that my inability to understand your kindness has nothing to do with your honest intentions."

A hand extended in small comfort meant little to the dangers they were facing. But it meant everything to Zeta. To Delta…

It meant something as well.

"York taught me kindness. He taught me to recognize it," he said to the astonished human. "Thank you, Ada, for teaching me that seeing similar kindness in you is… okay."

Ada stared at him, her hand still hanging in the air. She seemed lost. They all were.

Delta nodded at her.

"It's going to be okay," he told her.

Maybe that was a lie. He had not been programmed to lie. He couldn't do it with ease, at any rate. The words he told her flowed from his processors without hesitation, however. Maybe they were a lie when stacked against reality, but he had meant it as truth.

Maybe… that's what being human was.

Not lying. Not foolishness. It was simply… trying to be kind, while adrift in a sea of indifferent cruelties.

Delta smiled at Ada, his friend.

He could appreciate that.

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The trip back from the empty meeting room had been punctuated by an absence of other people, his boots on the smooth metal floor, and the blood rushing in his ears.

He had been told to go straight to the labs. Do it. Minimize witnesses. Get back to the hangar. Get the hell of there.

He had been told if he had failed in this objective, he could count on severe consequences.

He had been told if the objective were lost, he would need to eradicate all evidence of his mission.

He had been told to go straight to the labs.

So, Iowa found himself walking the opposite way, his heart beating like a war drum, and his chest on fire.

He had to do this; he had to. If he didn't, he wouldn't lose his life or his job.

He'd lose something far worse.

It was quarter to six. The whole ship seemed darker, more silent, and lifeless. Iowa felt familiarity in the corridors he walked through, but it wasn't a nice familiarity. He felt lost in it. He felt like he was invading it.

He wasn't welcome here anymore. Iowa could just feel it.

He found Livingston walking stiffly across the hallway t-section he was almost approaching. He watched as the tall doctor marched along in her white lab coat that sailed behind her like a cape. She looked afraid, but sure of herself. That's what he had always liked about her. She didn't care what the world said to her. She did what she thought was right.

She was a much better person than the majority of people Iowa had ever known. Including himself.

"Liv," he called out, voice cracking. He crossed the distance between them, knowing that if one of his people were watching on the cameras, they'd know he was disobeying orders. He had to make those few seconds they had left count.

Livingston had stopped at the intersection and waited for him to meet her. "Iowa…" She frowned when she saw his face; was it that obvious? "What's wrong?"

Everything. Fucking everything.

Iowa took a deep breath and tried to find the strength to tell her just that. She stood there, waiting, and that somehow broke his heart even more.

"It was me," he said, throat numb. He struggled to remain in control of himself. "Liv, it was me."

The psychologist blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He could have been apologizing for anything in the world—but he wasn't. It was the one thing that he knew—he knew—was unforgivable.

"I put Xi's unit in the wrong spot. I…" Iowa stumbled over apologies which hadn't sounded any better inside his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

He hadn't known what it was; just that a commanding officer had shoved it into his hands and told him to get into the lab to be used. He didn't ask where it had come from, or how Freelancer had gotten a hold of it. He hadn't doubted Sigma's complacency in it all. Iowa hadn't realized what he had done until it had all fallen apart yesterday.

Livingston's terror, Omega's screams—

It had been that moment when Iowa realized he couldn't do this anymore.

At his admission, he saw Livingston's face change. Iowa felt his guilt magnify when he saw realization cross her dark face—as it turned into shock, disbelief—and then hurt. Raw pain.

"You…" she started to say, but she seemed to be unable to speak. Iowa fought a drowning sense of failure when he realized he had done this.

This was all his fault. Iowa took a deep breath and gripped his head, trying to keep sane.

"Project Freelancer did so much for the war, to help end it, and even now with all the artifacts, the Director can't be convicted of this. But you were right. He's a fucking monster," he rambled, knowing he was rambling. He could barely stand to watch her staring at him any longer, her eyes bright with betrayal. "You don't know the half of what he did, to all of us. It's his fault Carolina, and the twins, and CT, and York, and Wash, and Maine are all dead. We were nothing but tools in his fucked up science project. Even now, we just fucking listen to him instead of trying to get away. You don't understand the power he has, Liv. No one can fight him."

He wanted nothing more than to just—take it back. He wanted to fix what he had done, but he wanted to go back, back to when he had signed up for the Project. He wanted to stop the others—York, Carolina, Maine—from doing that, too.

Thinking back to the moment he had been ordered to infiltrate the rehabilitation project—thinking back to when he walked into that room—thinking back to Sigma's conniving agreement—

This whole project had destroyed them. Iowa's lungs fought for air when he realized—it had destroyed them all, body and soul.

It was all the Director's fault, and there was a damn thing he could do about it now.

"Goddamn it," Iowa whispered, heart aching.

Livingston was still staring at him with wide eyes. The hurt hadn't left. He couldn't blame her.

"…Why are you telling me this?" she asked at length, voice cold.

Iowa couldn't stop shaking. "Because that's not all what he told me to do," he said, voice matching the tremors. "You need to get out of here, now, Liv. You have to get off the damn ship."

"Wh-why?" she demanded. The minute step back she took hurt worse than a bullet.

Everything that had been circling his head—orders, commands—came tumbling out in a confession that felt like bile.

"Freelancer just sent out the order to liquidate the AI rehabilitation program," he told her, knowing he was shattering any illusion of trust she had in him or their bosses. "We lost the decision before it was even made—the UNSC wants the AIs gone. They've handed over control to Freelancer again and they're going to deactivate the units."

That was the promised event, but Iowa knew that the Director wasn't just going to kill the AI. After everything… no, he had to be planning worse things. Things that no human would care about after this moment.

"Wh—What? !" Livingston sputtered. "That's—the board wasn't supposed to have a ruling until six!"

Iowa looked upwards, exasperated. "Liv, please, just trust me!" he begged.

Livingston's anger rapidly grew. "No! Not until you explain just what is going on!"

It felt disgusting to even say it. Thinking about—hearing his commander's words echoing in his head—made Iowa want to hurl. He tried to stare into her eyes, but it was unbearable.

"I just got the order," he said, voice cracking. He felt out of control. "Freelancer told me to kill you if you interfered. I do not want to see you dead, Liv. I don't. Please… you need to get out of here, now."

She needed to get out. Before someone else was sent. Someone who hadn't been living there, seeing what he had seen, learning how utterly fucked up he had been before coming here—

"…What?" Livingston asked. She looked more shocked than afraid. She should have been terrified. "Why me?"

He wasn't exactly sure why the Director was so adamant that Livingston be killed if she as so much as spoke a word about her part in the rehabilitation after this, but Iowa would be damned before he let it happen.

"You're going to fight the Director every step of the way and he knows it. He doesn't want you to be a problem," Iowa said, shaking. "I could get marked just like you if they know I'm telling you this. Get out and let them handle the AIs."

It was cruel. It was horrible, to tell her that. She wouldn't listen, but Iowa had to tell her. He couldn't just walk away from this without trying to tell her. He had… he had to do something.

Livingston was left staring at him with her eyes wide, speechless. For a brief moment, Iowa thought he saw fear in her face. It was there; she was sane enough to be afraid of the danger.

But Iowa's hope that she would see the sense in that fear—the sense to run, to keep her head down, to simply disappear while it was only one man on her tail—his hope died when he saw her fear drain slowly away from her eyes.

"…The Director is right about one thing," Livingston said, voice cold. Her jaw tensed as she steeled her nerves. "I'm not going to stand by and let this happen."

"Liv—!" Iowa began, alarmed when she turned around sharply to face the opposite way of the path she had been following. Back, back toward the labs.

"Kill me if you want," Livingston snapped, ignoring him as he tried to stop her. "I'm not leaving them."

He stumbled after her, panic gripping him. "Where are you going? !"

"I'm getting them out of here!" Livingston shouted back, anger bright in her eyes when she looked back at him to dodge his hands.

"Ada, you're going to get yourself killed!" Iowa yelled. "This is no time to be a hero!"

"I don't care!" Livingston exclaimed. She whirled around to face him; they were face to face, and all Iowa could see in hers was pain and anger. She gestured at herself with one harsh motion. "I—I have done nothing heroic in my entire life, because I am not a hero. I am a psychologist." Taking a deep breath, her anger broke into something desperate. "I help people. This… is my life. Just as yours is to be a soldier, to be the hero. I… just help people in a different way. And these AI…these people… trust me to help them. I will not betray that trust."

Anger flashed through Iowa at her stubbornness. "You are a fucking idiot, Liv."

Livingston glared back, defiant. "If you're going to stop me, do it. I'm not waiting for another assassin."

And with that, she turned around and marched away. She left Iowa standing there in the middle of the hallway. The ex-Freelancer just watched her go, part of himself breaking.

Maybe she thought she could just walk off with the AIs. She didn't have a plan, or a way to do it. She just… did it. Did she even realize she was committing treason? The UNSC would crucify her for breaking protocol. The Director, if he couldn't kill her, would destroy her in other ways.

But Livingston didn't care.

Iowa… couldn't… do this. He couldn't not do this, either.

He took a deep breath—and then walked. He quickly caught up to her. The soldier still burning in his gut told him to make her stop, but he didn't. He kept pace with her as they walked, his heart racing.

Livingston almost stumbled when she saw him. She sent him a wild look, but once she realized he was walking beside her and not stopping her, she was confused.

"You're…helping me?" she asked, incredulous. The look of distrust she sent him spoke volumes. Iowa stomached it the best he could.

"I like ya too much to just let you walk into a firefight alone, Liv," he said, shaking his head. They marched down the hall at an equal pace. "Whether you believe that or not, I'm not your enemy."

"Why should I trust you?" she demanded, eyes brighter. It was a miracle they hadn't fallen over at the rate they were moving and glancing at each other.

Iowa struggled to answer her. Honestly, there weren't too many reasons. She had every sane reason to hate him, let alone distrust his intentions.

"Freelancer is a mess. I… I've given up enough for this damn program. I want to keep my soul, at the very least." He laughed sharply. "Besides… even if they aren't human, the AIs aren't mindless machines. They don't deserve to die because of our fuck ups."

He didn't know if they were human, or deserved human kindness, but damn it, he wasn't going to make that call. He had seen them at their worst and their best. He had seen O'Malley's insanity, but he had seen the innocence of a child in Zeta. They were supposed to be machines. He just didn't know anymore.

But Livingston trusted them. And he trusted Livingston, no matter what she thought of him now.

Livingston said nothing. She turned her head away and made another tight turn, heading toward the lift. The labs would be locked down at this point, but Iowa didn't know if they'd run into trouble. Maybe they'd be lucky and no one would have seen him go with her—

Struck by a thought, Iowa cursed loudly. Livingston stopped in surprise and stared at him when he stopped walking.

"Wait… shit!" He grabbed the side of his head, angry at their miserable circumstances. "I don't know where we could even go, Liv. The UNSC is going to think we went AWOL or something. I can steal us a shuttle, but where to?"

Clearly, she hadn't thought about what to do after they grabbed the AI. But Livingston was a quick woman. She looked concerned for a moment, but something flashed in her eyes. Determination flooded back into them.

"Outpost 17," she said. "Code named Valhalla."

Iowa hesitated. "What is that?"

"A simulation base on a one of the moons of Nexus." Livingston hesitated. "The smaller one."

"A simulation base?" Iowa repeated, stunned. "What? Why? !"

Sim soldiers were useless, but more importantly, that was still UNSC territory. The soldiers would sell them out once the UNSC put out the call for their arrest—

"This is our last shot of the project, to rehabilitate them," Livingston said, sure of herself.

Iowa almost fell over. "This isn't the time for the project, Liv!"

"That base is where the original holders are!" she shot back, irritated. "I-I know it's a long shot, but Church told me the names of the men he was stationed with as a robot. I looked it up. They're stationed there now." She grabbed his shoulder, desperate. "It's our only chance to get the AIs underground. These men would protect them."

"I thought Omega had gone rogue against them," Iowa replied, trying to wrap his mind around the insanity of such a plan. "Not to mention they killed Washington, Maine, and Texas."

"They trust Church though! And Delta apparently!" Livingston looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Iowa, it might be our only chance! A-and when this all over and we have to report back to our commands, we can just say we took the initiative to complete the rehabilitation, but the AIs took off! They would be off in hiding by then, so we all get out of this alive!"

Iowa did his best not to curse again. "You aren't a strategist, so I'm not even going to attempt to explain how stupid that is." He ran a hand over his face and tried to keep calm. "Jesus, Liv…"

Livingston took a shuddering breath. "Please, Iowa. I can't let them die like this."

They were all going to die. Iowa looked up at the ceiling and tried to convince himself this would work. They were more likely going to end up dead trying to get off the Falcon. Nexus IV was nearly a week away, and that was only if the shuttle they took didn't encounter problems, like the UNSC chasing after them. And once they got to the simulation base, they'd have to somehow find allies in soldiers Iowa had heard nothing but bad news about.

This was insane.

It was also their only plan.

"…I'm getting the shuttle ready," he said, looking back to her. He fumbled at his side and brought up a small communicator. "Here. I'll be in touch. Keep it on this channel, but keep those AI in lockdown. We can't be chasing them down now."

Livingston seemed uncertain with the orders, but she nodded. "R-right." He turned to leave, but she grabbed his shoulder. She looked him straight in the eye. "Iowa. …Thank you. You're risking your life for this."

Iowa smirked; a nervous gesture. "For you, Liv."

The doctor stared at him with an intense gaze. "…Thank you," she said again, eyes shining.

"Just… don't die, okay?" Iowa asked, knowing it was a fool's request. They were sort of idiots, he reasoned.

"You, too," Livingston told him. She clutched the communicator in her hand and after a moment's pause, took off running for the lift.

He watched her go and allowed himself a few seconds of catching up. Everything felt like a dream. A bad one. Not quite a nightmare. Just… out of control chaos.

Iowa took a deep breath and released it.

He took off running the opposite way, and he prayed—for the first time in a long time, he prayed.

Please let this work.

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End Chapter 10.

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A/Ns:
-Totally making up Halo map geography. Eep.