I feel accomplished today with my fanfictions. Rolling out two more chapters of Freelancer Prank Wars and another of Retribution. Things are definitely looking up right now.

I'll be working on Chapters 23 and 24, which will be interrupted with another flashback. Are you guys finding those flashbacks helpful? They'll explain the story some more, especially when we get closer to the end. In the mean time, read on.

Chapter 22

Finding their way out of the rank swamp was hard, dull work. North gave a grumble as he hoisted his sniper rifle further up in his arms, always ready to fire on a moment's notice. He and the other IAOC soldiers trudged through the leaf-littered still water of the swamp, while the sour air around them alternated between stifling hot or frigid breezes. How did anyone live in an environment like this? Was the rest of the planet so backwards ecologically?

After about three hours of tedious stumbling at jumping at every threatening sound, North gave a sigh of relief as they exited out onto the edge of an expansive plain, green wild grass spreading for as far as the eye could see. A glimmering sun illuminated every shadow and every wildflower cropping up across the endless plain. The soldiers began cheering at the sight of the plain, and North let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the endless expanse of emerald green grass. The very fringes of the prairie, reaching up to his middle, tickled him pleasantly as it caught in one of the unpredictable breezes.

Suddenly, a force of air that he might have expected from a landing Falcon started pulling the grass this way and that, and everyone looked up. A large something started dropping out of the sky towards them, talons extended and ready to tear into flesh. The soldiers retreated back into the shelter of the swamp trees, and North jumped back as a large bird landed on the ground where he had just been standing. At least ten feet tall, with feathers of creamy white and splashes of blood red, the bird clacked its ragged beak at the smaller humans that had intruded on its territory so brazenly. North was transfixed by the obsidian-black claws that the enormous bird sported on its feathered feet, then remembered that he carried a weapon with him. Slowly, North brought the rifle up and prepared to fire.

"Hold on," somebody close to him whispered, and a hand pushed the barrel of the rifle away from the bird's sights. Dawn was staring at the bird's golden-amber eyes evenly, not breaking contact. "North, start whistling something. A birdsong, just a little tune, something."

"Why?" he hissed back, confused.

"This bird's just not happy that we intruded on its territory," Dawn whispered back, still not breaking eye contact with the menacing giant in front of them. "He's asking for something before we can get across this stretch of the plain. They like music, so do something."

"Why can't we just kill it?" North grumbled, and Dawn punched him in the shoulder.

"You'll get why I don't want this bird killed AFTER you sing to it. Now, whistle." With a shove, Dawn forced North out of the shelter of the trees, where he stood frozen in the light of the sun. The angry eagle-like bird turned to the purple-armored Freelancer, taking a threatening step towards the startled man. North looked back desperately at Dawn, who waved her hands in a "go on" fashion. Tex and York had joined her, and Tex stared at him evenly. The message conveyed between the two of them was simple: "Do this for York."

Taking a breath and a swallow, North edged closer to the bird and licked his dry lips. The bird gave a hiss at the approach of the stranger, but North was steeling himself for the leap of faith. He pursed his lips together and started giving the low whistle of a whooper-will. The fluffed out feathers of the giant eagle immediately started to flatten as the bird was mesmerized by North's whistling. He shifted to a robin's morning song, and it withdrew its talons, leaving deep grooves in the wild grass. With a great gust of air, the bird soared away into the sky again, intent on leaving the humans alone. It was a sign that they had been given permission by the territory's patriarch to cross on their way to New Taipei.

"North, that was brilliant!" Dawn cheered as she ran up to him and clapped him on the back. The IAOC soldiers were cheering at North's display with the bird.

"Why'd you shove me out there?" he demanded indignantly, and Dawn simply shrugged.

"I can't whistle worth two cents, but you knew what to do," she admitted. "Besides, we have free passage through that byakra's territory now. Look," she pointed into the grass, where a long cream feather with a blood red tip lay intertwined with the grass. She picked it up, examined it, and handed it to North. He stared at the feather, confused.

"What do I do with this?" he asked, unsure.

"Just keep it with you for now," Dawn said. "It is kind of pretty."

"It certainly is interesting," Theta remarked, appearing to "feel" the feather with his miniscule hands. The feather was at least twice as long as Theta was tall, if not longer. It might be something to amuse Theta for later, North thought, so he stored the feather along his waist.

"Is there anything out here that we can use to speed up our way to get help for York?" Texas asked.

A soldier with two blue stripes on his arm came up and saluted to Tex respectfully. "Ma'am, there are herds of wild horses in these parts. They're pretty skittish, but we might have a chance of catching one."

"Will it just come to us if we ask nicely?" Tex asked.

"No."

"Damn. We can't waste energy going and trying to catch a ghost," Tex muttered. Even through her armor, she could feel the heat of York's developing fever. "Delta, how's York holding up?"

The green AI blinked online, but his green glow had faded slightly. "York's core temperature has increased by 1.2 degrees Fahrenheit in the course of the past 3 hours. He is fading in and out of consciousness."

"Is there any way that you can give him some of those general meds that we have stored in our armor?" North asked Delta as they continued to walk through the grass. The AI flickered for a moment.

"I have been administering the standard medications to York in measured doses. The amount available, however, is less than the routine amount stored in typical Freelancer armor due to the inclusion of the healing unit," Delta admitted.

"Don't worry about me," York whispered, barely heard through his helmet. "Just…need a minute to rest." He was out again before the sentence was finished.

"If we want to get York up and on both feet again, we have to keep moving," Dawn pressured the other two Freelancers. "We should be able to get across the plains by the middle of the night, but we can't stop. It's not safe."

"What's out here that could be so dangerous?" North asked. "Besides that bird?"

Dawn said nothing for a moment. "Let's say that the Insurrectionists are some of the least of our worries out here at night," was the simple answer.

In comparison to going through the swamp, the plain was an easy walk in the park. The grass parted for all the soldiers making their journey. All eyes faced in different directions to watch for enemies, as the group was quite exposed in the tall grass with no trees visible for miles. The sun began to set, and a myriad of stars created a trail for them to follow across the night sky. Pretty soon, the full moon rose to illuminate a line of limestone cliffs along the edge of the prairie, thin monoliths stretching up to touch the moon like a maw of teeth determined to snuff out its blessed light. Different animal calls sounded out, and the wind continued to howl with the dropping temperature.

Texas gave a huff and set York down gently into the grass. "I can't keep carrying him," she gasped finally after about eight hours with no breaks. They all stopped for a moment, though several weapons were pointed in every direction. Julius ran up to take a look at York.

"His medicine reserves are pretty much spent," the medic reported finally after poking and prodding at the prone Freelancer. Texas detached a section of her armor and handed it to Julius, who hesitated.

"Do you honestly think that I'm going to get hurt?" she deadpanned, and the medic detached York's spent unit in exchange for Tex's unused medications.

"Is that more satisfactory, Delta?" Julius asked York's AI. The green hologram appeared, slightly stronger.

"Indeed. I now have more medications to be able to confront the infection, though he still needs proper treatment."

"Can we at least take a break?" someone spoke from the darkness, an unknown soldier.

"We don't stop here," Dawn retorted, addressing the rest of the group. She was tying a band of twine to a long sapling that she had apparently just cut. "You know the dangers of what's out here in the open at night. And byaknuts are the least of our worries." The soldiers all clammed up.

"What are those?" North asked quietly.

"That eagle thing you whistled to earlier?" Dawn replied. "It has a cousin of the night."

"Black Phoenix!" A female soldier with yellow stripes ran up. "You might want to come and look at this." She pointed to a spot a few feet away. Dawn and North went to investigate what the soldier had found.

At first, North wasn't very sure what they were looking at. It appeared to be some bundle of something with black pieces of cloth and metal sticking out, yet it was covered in an organic substance. It took a moment for him to realize that he was looking at the remains of a human, very recently killed.

"Good God!" he gasped as he leaned down to look at the body of the mauled soldier on the ground. "This looks like a pilot from one of the Sabres that look off from the Nagasaki," he told Dawn, and she bent down to examine it as well.

"Claw marks," she murmured, running three gloved fingers along the body's snapped spine. She stood up suddenly, sniffing the air.

"There's blood on the wind," she said a little bit louder.

"North, I'm picking up movement on your motion sensor!" Theta said, alarmed.

"Regroup!" Dawn shouted, and they ran back to the soldiers that had clumped together around North and Julius, who was trying his best to apply some new bandages. "Damn. York's infection must have caught it's attention."

"What?" North asked. "A byaknut?"

"No," Dawn gasped. "Get your rifle ready."

The grass rustled ominously, though no wind was there to carry the plant against its neighbors and create some noise. A sharp, pungent odor filled the air, carrying an animal scent that couldn't begin to cover the coppery smell of fresh blood.

That's when the screaming started.

"Blessed Victory, may I enter?"

The Forerunner looked up from where he sat at a desk in his personal office. The head of one of his older brothers, Blade of Striking Lightning, poked through the doorway to his rooms, curious golden eyes sparkling in the weak light. With a shrug, Blessed Victory admitted his elder brother. The older Forerunner brushed back a strand of shadow black hair as he entered in a white robe and carrying a platter with two cups and a jug.

"I figured you might want some refreshments," Blade offered, pouring a thick green liquid into each of the white porcelain cups and offering one to his younger sibling. "The Prophet of Benevolence says that this drink is rare and only served to the most important of their culture."

"We just had dinner," Victory pointed out, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair. "And you know that I won't touch alcohol."

"It's not alcoholic!" Blade whined, very unbecoming for his age and status. "Come on, just try it! It's really good, very sweet."

"It's not blood from another creature, is it?" Blessed Victory accused, and Blade held a hand dramatically to his heart.

"You wound me, little brother," the Forerunner gasped. "Thinking that I would violate the Mantle for our own benefit."

Blessed Victory grumbled. Out of his brothers and Father, he and Blade were the only ones to not partake in breaking the Mantle and feasting on the flesh of the unfortunate. Sighing, he held out his hand and took the cup from his gold-eyed brother, whose whining voice would have pestered him for hours if he had not partaken in the refreshment. Cautiously, Blessed Victory took a sniff of the slimy, fluorescent blue liquid in the cup and took a gulp. It slid down his throat like some alien slug, causing him to shiver at the texture.

"Very…unusual," he gulped, and Blade jumped up and down like an excited child.

"Excellent!" the elder brother exclaimed, nearly losing grip on his own glass. "I just came to deliver that to you. I will leave you to your reports now."

Giving a grunt of acknowledgement, Blessed Victory turned away from his brother and back to the numerous reports that he had to complete. With a hiss, the door to Victory's chambers closed behind the retreating Blade of Striking Lightning.

The first symptom that something was wrong was when Blessed Victory's eyelids began to feel very heavy, and he had a hard time keeping focus on the numerous words in front of him. He read the same sentence at least ten times before realizing that he needed to move on to the next one. Then, his hands became very shaky and tingly, and he could no longer hold his pen as it clattered to the desk. He tried to stand, but found that he nearly collapsed on the floor in his fatigue.

Forerunners are not meant to get tired, the young male thought in panic as he tried to steer himself towards the rarely used cushions in his bedchamber. Victory had almost made it when his legs finally gave out, and he reached feebly for the cushions before collapsing to the floor.

Blessed Victory's last thought before slipping into a drugged slumber was that he should have remembered where his brother's loyalty lay and that Blade of Striking Lightning was an accomplished poisoner.

Dum dum DUM!

And a cliffhanger. Don't you just love those?

I know that I've been getting some questions about the team that will be put together for the trip with Admiral Tyette. I have it already planned out, and they will not be OCs. You should recognize them from...somewhere.

Anyways, I'll post the next chapter very soon.

'Til all are one,

anna1795