(A/N) Hey guys! Sorry that this update is coming a little late, my electricity went down again last night. I swear, it's like living in the dark ages over here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, particularly as I was the one who wrote it! I had a good time writing it though, and I hope that'll come across. As before, we're still looking for writers for both the X-Ray and Vav fic, and for Phase Two, so come on! Apply!

As always, enjoy!


Chapter Fifty-Four - Focus on the Pain

Agent Arkansas

Written by NicKenny


"Joy, sorrow, tears, lamentation, laughter - to all these music gives voice, but in such a way that we are transported from the world of unrest to a world of peace, and see reality in a new way, as if we were sitting by a mountain lake and contemplating hills and woods and clouds in the tranquil and fathomless water." ― Albert Schweitzer


He stood watching her, knowing that she was completely oblivious to his presence, her mind totally focused on the training at hand. Her fists lashed out, flashing by in a blur, and then she spun, kicking out a green circle to her left, which flashed red at the moment of contact. Within a few more seconds the remainder of the green circles had turned read, and Carolina turned, panting slightly, and noticed the figure staring at her from the doorway.

"What do you want, Ark?" she asked wearily, taking off her helmet and brushing back her hair with her free hand.

Ark shrugged, pushing his back off the wall and standing up straight, his helmet concealing his expression. "Just wanted to see what the best looks like," he murmured, his voice containing a note of an emotion that Carolina couldn't quite place.

Carolina just shook her head in exasperation and brushed past him into the corridor, making her way towards the locker rooms, but what Ark said next stopped her in her tracks.

"I know who you are, Carolina."

She turned around slowly and looked back at him, her eyes narrowed, containing more than a trace of hostility. He smiled beneath his helmet, delighting in her reaction, and leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, her voice trembling in a barely withheld tide of anger. "What are you trying to say, Ark?

He rolled his eyes, although this action, of course, passed by unnoticed, as his features were hidden beneath his helmet. "I know, Carolina. I know who you are. I know who your father is, more specifically."

She stared at him for another moment, her brow furrowed, confused by his knowledge, unable to understand how this was happening. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ark, but I don't like your tone. I suggest you should go and lie down for a bit, if you know what's good for you."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Carolina. Class of 2544, Cursor Academy of Military Science. All of the records you set are still there. You're a legend amongst the students there. They all aspire to be you, to outshine you, though of course none of them ever do." Ark paused for a moment, and fumbled with the latch on his helmet, removing it and breathing in deeply, taking in the fresh air, his hazel eyes locking on hers.

"I was one of them."

Carolina blinked for a moment, her features briefly flickering through a variety of emotions: anger, confusion, disbelief, among several others, before finally returning to the utterly blank face that she had perfected. "What do you want, Ark," she asked again, this time sounding more weary than irritated.

He shrugged, turning away and marching back into the training room. "I don't want anything," he said to her as he left, "I just wanted to let you know."

Ark felt her eyes on his back as he strode to where F.I.L.S.S. had set up a table filled with a variety of weapons, but when he turned around after picking up a pair of magnums and making sure that they were fully loaded, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Agent Arkansas, I notice that you've chosen to train with the magnums today, rather than the shotgun, the weapon you've usually used in combat situations," the familiar artificial voice noted through the room's speakers.

Ark glanced up towards the ceiling and smiled beneath his helmet. "Yeah, F.I.L.S.S., it's just that the shotgun isn't exactly a precision weapon. You just get in range, point and fire. I thought it might just be a good idea to train with something that actually requires accuracy."

"Very well, then, agent. I will run the training program now."

The room shook a little as machinery began to whir in some part of the ship, and bright green circles appeared in the room, scattered in an apparently random pattern throughout, some near to Ark, others far away.

He glanced at the ceiling one more half, half expecting F.I.L.S.S. to give him the order to begin, but when she remained silent he simply shrugged and raised the guns, firing rapidly at the two nearest targets. No sooner had he pulled the triggers, then the floating holographic circles suddenly began to move, dodging his shots and continuing to move away from him. The others followed suit, rapidly spinning around him, doing everything that they could do to make hitting them as difficult as possible.

Ark swore under his breath, wondering if this was F.I.L.S.S. punishing him for his earlier confrontation with Carolina. It wouldn't be all that surprising, after all, given who controlled F.I.L.S.S…

Shaking his head he raised the two magnums once more, this time tracking the movements of his targets before firing and taking them down, he moved slowly through the room, the two magnums firing almost constantly, until he had successfully hit all of the green circles, which turned a dark red immediately on impact, and stopped moving around the room.

As the last target flashed red and came to a stop, Ark punched the air triumphantly and marched back to the weapons table, replacing the magnums in their designated spot. The table slowly sank into the ground and the circles faded out of existence as F.I.L.S.S. informed Ark of his progress.

"I have detected a six per cent increase in accuracy from the beginning of the exercise to the end. Would you like me to run it again, or to run a different program?"

"No thanks, F.I.L.S.S.," Ark replied, noticing a blue clad figure waiting by the entrance to the training room, no doubt waiting on Ark to finish up so that he could make use of the facility. "I'll be back tomorrow, ok?"

He didn't wait to hear her reply, but instead left the room, taking his helmet off and smiling at the obviously impatient form of Agent Florida, who stood pacing back and forth in front of him, not yet having noticed that Ark had finished his training session. When he finally did, his face lit up, and he rushed up to Ark.

"Ark, great, you're finished! I didn't want to interrupt you, but I've just been itchin' to try out these new grenades I had F.I.L.S.S. order for me!"

Ark cocked his head, amused by the obvious excitement oozing out of the older man, but also intrigued by grenades Florida was holding in his hands, cradling them to his chest like a mother would with a baby. His shoulder wound had apparently been forgotten in his desire to test out the new equipment, and Ark was happy to see him up and about once more.

"Those are incendiaries, right?" Ark asked, vaguely recognising the shape and markings. "They look a lot like the Type-3 Antipersonnels that the Brutes use."

"I know!" Florida gushed, beaming from ear to ear. "They've just developed them! It's a hybrid technology, and should burn stronger and longer than any other field incendiaries that have been issued before!"

The freelancer in blue paused for a moment. "Wait, you know about explosives?"

Ark laughed, then nodded. "Yep, demolition and hacking, just about the only things I can do well. Pretty sure the only reason that the Director brought me in is so that there's a second guy who's able to figure out how to use a detonator."

Florida laughed back, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "I think I can see what you mean. Penn and Maine are great guys, if a bit cantankerous at times, but give either of 'em a button to press?! I'm pretty darn sure they'd break it."

Looking down at the other man, still cradling his explosives, Ark was suddenly struck by a thought. "Hey, Florida," he began, not quite sure if how to phrase his question. "You don't happen to be related to Georgia, do you?"

Florida just shook his head, his grin fading slightly. "Never knew the guy before the project, Ark. Trust me, if I had any family left, I wouldn't be letting 'em join the military. I'd keep them safe."

His good spirits diminished somewhat, he said goodbye to Ark and walked out into the training room. Within a few minutes a blazing fire was raging throughout the room. Ark just hoped that Florida had it all under control. He should have, at least, he was a freelancer after all. However, that was tempered somewhat by the fact that he was also Florida.

The rules of common sense didn't always apply.

Ark left and walked down the corridors of the Mother of Invention, not really going anywhere in particular, his shoulders slightly tensed as, at any moment, he expected to see Florida charge past him, on fire, screaming unintelligible syllables. Eventually the sound of music reached his ears, and he followed it, figuring that it couldn't be any worse than returning to his room.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Georgia's company, quite the opposite in fact, Georgia was probably the person that he got along best with in Project Freelancer. What Ark objected to was the speed in which their room had promptly been turned into a make-shift workshop, complete with all manners of saws, drills, and even a laser cutter! Ark thought it best not to inquire into how Georgia had got hold of these items, but if the MOI's engines failed, or life-support system shut down, he'd know who to blame.

He was drawing closer to the source of the music now, and was slightly surprised to enter one of the various lounge areas on the ship, where Maine had entered an intense argument with York over the music that was playing. Given by the rapping bursting out from the speakers, and given the fact that Maine had physically lifted York into the air by his shoulders, Ark was guessing that the big man was winning the argument.

"Adrenaline filled like a kid named Ritalin

Gotta get away from this bullshit middleman

Pushed to the max no time to relax

'Cos if we ain't swift we facin' the axe."

"I just don't see why we can't change the song. This is like the fourth time in a row that it's been played!" York argued, twisting feebly in Maine's grasp.

"They were different songs!" Maine replied, in that low throaty growl of his. Ark pulled closer and sat down next to North and South, who both glanced at him for a second before returning their eyes to the spectacle before them. After another second North passed the popcorn that he was holding over to Ark.

"Rap just all sounds the same to me!" York yelled, his feet flailing in the air as he tried to wriggle out of Maine's clutches. "Come on, let me choose the next song!"

From the far side of the room Cal whispered something to Mich, who laughed, and Cal looked up at York, crowing in amusement. "What do you propose York, smooth jazz, or something like that?"

York just gaped at him, his attention momentarily drawn away from the giant who was currently dangling him in the air. "W…what?!" he spluttered in shock. "How did you know?!"

With a bored sigh, Maine dropped him, and York slammed into the ground, cursing to himself as he got his breath back. As he slowly got to his feet, complaining that there was nothing wrong with smooth jazz, and that it was the highest form of art, Wyoming walked in, propping up a slightly blackened Florida, who waved to the assembled freelancers with a dazed grin.

"What happened to you?" South asked brusquely, her eyebrows raised.

Florida wobbled slightly and glanced around the room, his eyes not quite focusing on any one of the assembled freelancers in front of him. "Was just…testing out some new grenades. They were…more explosive than I had expected. Thankfully F.I.L.S.S. turned on the sprinklers…after a minute or two."

He plopped down on a nearby armchair, and Wyoming took the one next to him, his face looking slightly worried as he glanced at his friend, who had passed out in his seat the second he sat down. "Found him groaning on the floor, smoking slightly," he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "You'd think he'd have the sense to take care of himself after that last mission, but then it wouldn't be him, would it? Will probably have to put him back into the Recovery wing."

The freelancers seemed to reach the general consensus that someone should go find Massa, and York volunteered, muttering under his breath about "assholes that don't appreciate real music". However, after another of Maine's rap songs came blaring over the speakers, Florida's eyes popped open, and his eyes darted from side to side, looking for the source of the noise.

"What the hell is that racket?" he asked, and, from the corner of his eye, Ark could see Maine tense slightly, but Wyoming gave him a pointed glare and Maine settled down once more, evidently displeased. "Where's the controller? I'll show you kids some real music."

The room was united by a chorus of groaning as the younger freelancers wondered what fossil he'd bring up from the past, but none of them had the heart to refuse his request, not after the communal worry that had settled over them as he had lain in the medical bay, recovering from his bullet wound.

Maine bad-naturedly tossed over the remote, and Florida's eyes lit up as his fingers slowly flicked over the small screen, searching for the song that he wanted to show them. "Ah, here we go," he murmured, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied smiled, and the speakers burst into life once more as his song began to play.

Not recognising it, Ark glanced around at the other freelancers around him, and could tell that they didn't either. South just rolled her eyes and sat back, evidently bored already by the slow procession of the song, the as-yet unaccompanied guitar strings twanging mournfully. There was a moment when Ark began to tire, wondering why Florida had chosen this song out above all others, but then a man's voice began to sing, and he suddenly realised why.

The singer seemed to reach out to Ark, his voice filled with the pain that Ark felt every day, putting into words the emotions that Ark hadn't even been able to fully understand until now. The man sang about the futility of life, and the regret that he felt over the past, and as he sang something began to struggle within Ark's heart, and he looked down at the ground, ashamed of these emotions and afraid that the others would read them in his face.

When the song had finished, and the man's tired, raspy voice had come to a stop, the room was left in silence for a moment, before Ark suddenly stood up. "Thanks, Florida," he murmured quietly, then turned and left the room, not looking at any of the others as he left the room.

He made his way back to his own room, prepared to risk the dangers that accompanied living in the same quarters as the freelancer's own mad scientist, but to his surprise the room was empty when he got there, Georgia evidently having left to see if he could acquire more materials for his various projects. Ark sighed, and stripped out of his armour, putting it away in the locker next to his bed, and sat down on his mattress, his face in his hands, sighing heavily as he remembered the song that Florida had just played.

How was it that someone could understand the same pain that Ark felt when he woke up each morning, and realised that his dreams were just that, dreams, and that only in his sleep would he ever see his family again? In that song, something had changed inside Ark. No matter how much his past tore at him, he would always remember: He wasn't alone.

The door whoosed open behind him, and Georgia walked in, his hands laden with wires and electrical cord. "Hey, was wondering when you'd get back!" he cheerfully exclaimed, before noticing his roommates expression, his voice then taking on a worried tone. "Ark? You ok?"

Ark glanced up and forced a smile, sighing slightly. "I'm ok, it's just been a long day. Florida's probably going to be spending some more time in Recovery, just set himself on fire testing out some new grenades."

Georgia's face suddenly lit up. "Do you think they were any left?" he asked, his voice gushing with enthusiasm. Once again, Ark wondered how two guys so blatantly crazy could not be related, yet find themselves in the same part of the universe.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, but Georgia had already left, with faint speed-lines left in the air from his speedy exit.

Ark settled back into his bed, shaking his head in amusement. 'Never a dull moment,' he thought to himself, before thinking back to the song once more, singing it quietly to himself.

"I hurt myself today,

To see if I still feel,

I focus on the pain,

The only thing that's real."