A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter nineteen of this heresy I'm trying to call a story xD. Last chapter we saw shit start to go down and now, we get to the fun stuff of Leona and Grif in prison, York trying not to murder Simmons, and Sarge and Caboose in Beaver Creek.

Paradox Effect

Summary: Dying sucked. Dying and being killed by the same teammate again? That sucked even more. Dying and being thrown back into Blood Gulch as a girl? That REALLY sucked. Now, Leona Church will have to put up with Tucker's perverted looks, Caboose's stupidity, and worst of all, Tex's laughter…

*Chapter 19*

Leona growled in annoyance and kicked the doors of their cell, glaring at the guard stationed outside. "Come on, let me out of here you asshole!"

The guard scoffed and turned his back on her, making her get even more pissed off at their predicament.

"Nice negotiating skills." And Church wasn't fucking helping, as usual. Asshole.

Leona let out another growl and kicked the wall, screaming in frustration. "FUCK! How the hell did we even get into this problem in the first place!? GODDAMMIT!"

Grif merely yawned and leaned against his side of the cell. "Quit the yelling, lady. It isn't going to work. If it did, we'd be out by now."

"Well fucking try something apart from sleep, will you?" Leona glared at him.

"Sure." Grif let out another yawn and yelled at the guard. "Hey, come on, lemme out, will ya? I don't even know this bitch! She fuckin' kidnapped me!"

Again, the guard refused to answer.

"Great job Grif. Way to be a team player." Leona rolled her eyes.

"Hey, I gotta think about myself here," Grif defended.

"There's no 'I' in team, Grif."

"Yeah? Well there's no 'U' either. So I guess if I'm not on the team and you're not on the team, then no one's on the goddamn team! The team sucks!"

Leona wasn't sure whether to sigh in despair and give up or just punch Grif as hard as she could in the face.

She settled for both.

"Ow! That fucking hurt you bitch!"

'I really hope the others have it better than this…'

York looked around at his surroundings with his shotgun out, searching for any signs of potential threats. As far as he could tell, he was alone in some strange facility with lines of teleporters as far as he could see. So far, he couldn't complain.

"Ow…" Simmons let out a pained whimper at his feet, curled up in the fetal position.

Never mind, he took it back. He definitely could complain.

'I seriously cannot fucking believe I got myself roped up in this whole mess. Why the hell can't things ever be simple for once?' York rolled his eyes and yanked the maroon soldier to his feet. "Come on, get up you big baby. You're not even bleeding."

Simmons yelped in pain as he was hauled to his feet by the Freelancer, rubbing his shoulder. "H-hey! You could've seriously hurt me!"

'That does it. Next time I meet with a UNSC official, I'm asking for a pay raise. I do not get paid enough for this shit.' York was about ten seconds away from punching Simmons as hard as he could when the maroon soldier looked around. "Wait…where the fuck are we?"

"Looks like a teleportation system," York answered, trying to not let his anger and annoyance with the simulation troopers get out of hand. It wouldn't be pretty if he did.

Plus, he seriously doubted Leona or Tex would forgive him even if he asked nicely. 'Now I'm starting to see just how those two ended up together in the first place. Though if they could try and cut down on the amount of times they have sex a day, that would be appreciated.'

"D, any ideas?" he asked.

"This appears to be a galaxy-wide teleportation system. If I remember correctly, this used to be used by the UNSC as an insurance policy during the Covenant War. If any of our troops came under heavy fire and were about to be compromised, they'd switch the teleporters to make a random jump somewhere in UNSC space," Delta answered.

"…so you're basically telling me that Leona, Grif, Sarge, and Caboose could be anywhere in the galaxy right now."

"Correct, Agent York."

…

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." York facepalmed and groaned. So much for hoping this could be easier once they figured out what this place was.

"Language, sir."

"Shut up, private."

"Yes, sir…" Simmons looked down at the floor in shame. "Is there anything I can do to help? I promise I won't get in your way. You know, cramp your style, that whole thing."

York could only sigh and wonder how the hell he ended up stuck with possibly the worst excuse for a soldier he had ever seen. Then he remembered that it was Leona who made the teams. He couldn't fault her for that. It was shitty luck that they ended up here and not where Doc was.

He just hoped that the rest of the search parties were having better luck than him. He doubted it, knowing just how short of a fuse Leona had. Still, it never hurt to have a bit of hope. Out of everyone in Project Freelancer he definitely was the one with the most positive attitude excluding Florida and North.

At least, he thought of himself as a positive person. Being a downer all the time was Wyoming's job.

With his shotgun in hand he looked around and hummed. With any luck, they could use the teleporters for a different purpose. 'Hm. Doc rigged the teleporter at Blue Base to lead to somewhere else.'

"D, any chance you could track the others via their armor?" he asked.

"Possibly. I will need their armor's tracking systems online," Delta answered. "Otherwise, tracking them will be a whole lot harder."

"Damn. I doubt they know how to activate the IFF in their suits." York frowned and looked around. He suddenly noticed that it was a hell of a lot quieter than it was a few seconds ago and he didn't like that.

"Wait…where the hell did Simmons run off to?"

Sarge looked around at his surrounding with a frown. He was standing in the middle of what appeared to be another battlefield. Only this time instead of an empty desert canyon, he was in some sort of woodland area. A creak ran through the middle underneath a large fallen tree and next to him, his…partner, for lack of better term, was confused.

"Um, Mister Sarge?"

"Yes, Caboose?"

"Why are these people sleeping? Nap time comes before snack time, not after. I think these people are just making up times!" he exclaimed, looking at the many bodies on the ground.

Sarge sighed and shook his head, crouching down to investigate one of the bodies. "Um, son? I hate to tell you, but he's dead."

"Dead!? Oh no!" Caboose began to sniffle. "But wait, if he's blue and dead, does that mean I'm dead!?"

Sarge reached for his flask of whiskey and took a drink through his helmet filters.

He was going to need it today.

He looked at the still bodies, a combination of both red and blue soldiers, and he yelled out at them. "Hello!? Is anyone alive!? Preferably any Red Team survivors!? Don't let that discourage you if you're a Blue!"

Silence answered him.

Sarge turned to Caboose and shrugged. "Well, looks like everyone's dead. Oh well."

"WHOO!"

Sarge turned around and watched as all of the bodies, both red and blue, were suddenly standing up again and cheering. They all split off to their respective teams and ran to the two bases on either side of the woodland creek, leaving them standing in the water.

Sarge could only think of one question.

"What in Sam hell just happened!?"

A/N: And that does it. XD next up, more fun from Beaver Creek and Sidewinder. The whole time travel thing is gonna be a lot of fun…I'll see you all then!

A Lovestruck A2#5371