Well, I'm back and I'm ready for more! I hope that this chapter is a little bit more up to snuff for what you guys like. We're leaving the Project now...and trekking into the mysteries beyond Project Freelancer. Enjoy!
Chapter 15
"Are you sure that you have to leave so soon?"
"Pass me those maps, please? And yes, I am."
North grabbed a few of the rolled up maps in his bandaged hands and handed them to Delaware, who stuffed them into a box and set it aside. Her room, once so vibrant and colorful, was being stripped bare as she hurried to get all of her belongings packed.
The notice had been quite sudden. After being picked up by York and Texas, they had been taken to see the Director who, having been informed of the situation by Julius, explained to Delaware that she was excused from further activity in the Project so that she could return home and deal with an Insurrectionist uprising. It was actually a nice way of saying that she was fired and she needed to deal with her planet's problems. Throughout the entire exchange, North had watched his lover's face change from shock to anger to an expression of neutral acceptance. All the while, she did not make any eye contact with the other Freelancers, and left quickly when the Director requested that he speak with the others alone.
Delaware grabbed the pictures off the wall above where her bed used to be, and placed them into another box with a snap. "If I don't go back, the Insurrectionists win, and all that hard work that I put into making my planet stable will have been for nothing," she huffed, tossing items hodge-podge into the large metal box that could easily fit one or two people inside along with all her belongings. Predator sat in a cage by the box, one beady eye peeking out from under an ebony-black wing.
North stepped forward as Delaware made a dash for something else and stopped her, wrapping her in his arms and tucking her head under his chin. This was actually a hard feat as Delaware was almost his equal in height, but the task was achieved. Delaware curled into North protectively, while he carded his bandaged hand through her hair slowly. The both closed their eyes, reveling in the moment, and North kissed her on the lips, long and soft.
The two drew away from each other reluctantly after a long while, and Delaware collected the last of her belongings and stuffed them into the box. Theta appeared from a hologram projector in the wall, colors flashing mournfully. Sigma, Delta, Omega, and Gamma all appeared alongside their brother, and Chi came into being as a person for a change, garbed in thick clothing and with dark hair fluttering around the small of her back.
"Sister, will you be rejoining us?" Sigma asked, but Chi shook her head slowly, eyes closed and face somber.
"No. The Director has placed me on loan to Agent Del-Dawn until such a time as I may be returned safely," the female AI replied, shifting into her cat form again.
"That…does not seem entirely logical, but so be it," Delta responded, stepping forward awkwardly. The other AIs joined him in whispering farewells to their sister for the time being.
"All of you, please do not get into trouble," Chi chided her brothers gently, before Theta enveloped her in a generous hug.
"And YOU be careful," the male AI's responded as one. Even Omega, with his aggressive tendencies, showed some concern for the safety of his sister AI.
"I need to return my armor now," Dawn said, for she couldn't really be called 'Agent Delaware' anymore.
"York, Tex, and I will take your stuff down to the Pelican," North said quietly, and Dawn only nodded sullenly as she passed him to get to the door. The AIs all appeared in front of the doorway.
"Well, Agent Maine wishes to convey his farewells," Sigma said.
"Agent York and I both wish you the best of luck," Delta continued.
Gamma paused. "Knock knock."
Dawn rolled her eyes. "Who's there?"
"You."
"You who?"
"Here I am." Everyone groaned at Gamma's awful joke, but the smallest smile graced Dawn's lips.
"…Make sure that our sister comes back in one piece," Omega growled, but his tone was less hateful than usual when he addressed other Freelancers.
"Well…I guess this is goodbye," North whispered. Theta said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes about his grief. Dawn nodded, wrapping her arms around him one last time before placing a gentle kiss on North's lips.
"Goodbye, Dawn."
"I can't leave without knowing your real name," Dawn quickly replied as she got to the door. North paused. It had been so long since he had used his real name, since he had entered the Project.
"Michael. My name is Michael."
"Well, we'll be seeing each other again," she reassured him. North nodded, grasping her in one last hug. A technician approached the separating couple, and Dawn was pulled away to return her armor.
As the female ex-Freelancer was dragged down the hallway, North poked his head out the doorway and waved York and Texas inside. Silently, York and North started pushing the box of Dawn's stuff towards the hangar, while Texas came along with Predator's cage in her arm.
"Why-*huff*-can't-*wheeze*-you-*gurgle*-help us?" York spluttered as he and North rolled the crate gently down the steps.
"I thought that this was men's work," Tex replied in a snarky manner, handing off Predator to an Outer Colonist on the ship. As soon as everyone was gone, Tex popped open the top of the crate, jumped in with North and York, and set the lid down again as though the package had not been disturbed.
"How the hell are we supposed to explain this to everyone else when we're gone?" York whispered as he worked to bury them under a pile of quilts and pillows.
"Luckily, we don't have to worry about that," North pointed out, making sure that only the barest glint of his visor could be seen by the others. "The Director has it on record that we're being relocated temporarily to a simulation base in Rat's Nest. He'll make it work out."
"I just hope that we can make it work out," Texas hissed as the crate was latched down in the cargo bay of a Pelican. She lifted the top of the crate off slightly to be able to look into the Pelican. Two soldiers in black OST armor, one with a red stripe on his shoulder and one with a white stripe, stood in the doorway of the Pelican, assault rifles clasped in their hands loosely. They were having a fairly heated conversation.
"Good to know that we've finally got her back on OUR side, the traitor," the soldier with white sniffed in a haughty male voice that was gravelly and rough.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the soldier with red growled in a low female voice.
"The Black Phoenix is a traitor. She sets up all these elaborate plans to help make us better, then leaves us to work with the UNSC, and has us fend for ourselves against the Insurrectionists," White responded to his female counterpart, who gripped her rifle tighter. Texas could practically hear the tension running through Red's body.
"She left us so that she could provide us with information to help us, and maybe get the UNSC to recognize us as an individual entity. Phoenix isn't a traitor," Red went on to say, "She's a hero."
"Right," White responded sarcastically, "A hero who saves the day by running off with her tail between her legs."
Red snarled and made to leap at the offender (Texas coiled in preparation to spring) when there came a cough. Julius walked up the gangway in black OST armor outlined with red, and both soldiers saluted. Behind him came a soldier in black HAYABUSA armor, with ridged shoulder plates outlined in red and gold, a magnum in one hand, and a katana strapped to their back. The gold visor glinted ominously at the soldiers, and they bowed to the heavily armored entity rigidly, standing up straight again and moving to the side of the Pelican. Julius rapped on the side of the ship with a gloved hand, and the gangway closed with a hiss.
The roar of numerous Pelican thrusters sounded, and the metal under the crate that the three Freelancers were stowed away in, before they felt the tell tale lurch of the ship taking off from the safe haven of the Mother of Invention. In the darkness of the crate, there was the faintest sound of breathing coming from the Freelancers (North's was slightly more labored than the rest with the injury to his ribs) and the rustling of materials in their boxes. Several times, when the Pelican had to maneuver to get out of the way of space debris, the Freelancers had to bite their lips shut to prevent yelps of pain as heavy items went flying on top of them. The trip was long, tedious, and silent, and no conversations could be heard in the cabin of the Pelican. The Freelancers had little option but to sleep under their shelter for the several hours that the journey would take. Even the AIs were bored, and they slowly deactivated to conserve their own energy.
With a thud, North was awoken by the landing of the Pelican on a smooth metal surface. Silently, he woke up the other Freelancers and lifted the lid of the box gently. Many people were wandering around the hangar of what could only be assumed was a UNSC frigate. These people were dressed in black or white OST armor, and had various numbers and one color of stripes on their shoulders: yellow, red, white, blue, green, or black outlined with red. Six banners hung along the sides of the hanger, with black or white shapes depicted on solid colored backgrounds: a rearing horse on red, a poised wasp on yellow, a single leaf on green, a constellation on blue, a roaring dragon on white, and a bird in flight on black.
Suddenly, the box was shoved forward with enough force to send the lid flying, and the contents of the crate spilled out onto the hangar floor. Texas, York, and North all rolled out onto the hard, cold metal and lay stunned for moments that would have been crucial. They could not seem to move as a low buzzing filled their heads, before pressure was placed right under their ears simultaneously, and their worlds descended into darkness.
Blessed Victory hissed as he examined his face in the mirror of his private quarters. A once flawless, handsome face with bright green eyes had been marred by four claw marks running from his forehead down across his flat nose. He grumbled and ran a hand through his long dark hair, rubbing at the receding grey fur framing his face. In another two mutation cycles, his fur would be completely gone and he would be an advanced rate above his brothers…provided that he lived that long. Knowing his father's temper, the notion was not so likely.
Blessed Victory had been born into a powerful, yet unique union between a Lifeworker and a Warrior family. Yet, this union had had potential in the beginning. Much like the Librarian and the ancestral Didact, Blessed Victory's father had been wed to the Librarian's only child, her beautiful daughter and Victory's mother. After the birth of her five sons, the birth of his sister had caused his father an inexplicable anger. From what Victory remembered, his mother had fled and his father had taken him and his brothers to some other place, far from the reaches of the remaining Forerunner civilizations. They had been trained, had explored, had conquered, and had communicated. His father had established himself amongst the race known as the Covenant, and they had been worshipped as gods. Most of his life, up to this point, had made Blessed Victory sick to his stomach. All the violations of their sacred Mantle…his skin crawled at the thought.
His father said that soon, everything would be made right in the galaxy again, and the Forerunners would resume their place as the leading force amongst all intelligent life. Yet, thinking on this as he traced the scars that ran across his eye, and the recently dried blue blood along its edges, he didn't know whether he could continue to survive by following his father's orders or not.
And, remembering his father's temper, the notion was not so likely.
Ahh, the questions of rebellious youth...
Don't worry, the Freelancers will live...for now.
Next chapter, we'll get an explanation as to who these Operators actually are, and what they work for, if you haven't made your own conclusions already.
See you soon,
anna1795