(A/N) Hey guys, time for the second update of the day, as our attempts continue to make up for our recent delays. Have handed in my essays and currently chilling in the college library while I wait for my friends to come back into town, after they headed home when I went fencing. Little titbit of info for y'all. This chapter introduces both another new character and another new writer, Agent Kentucky, aka The Boombringer, written by the sensational Gumby1011. Not gonna lie to you guys, I love Kent, and you guys are going to love him too. We've got some great chapters in store! Again, apps for the second half of this fic are open until the 1st of January. You know what to do.

Enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen - A Mighty Flighty Mind

Agent Kentucky

Written by Gumby1011

"Boom, crush. Night, losers. Winning, duh." - Charlie Sheen

The black-haired man bounced excitedly in his seat, a grin stretching ear to ear as he sat in the Pelicans' troop bay. Oh man, it was going to be absolutely fantastic! True, he may not have been sure of what Project Freelancer was, exactly, but the fact that they had gone so far as to solve the problem he'd been hackin' away at for nearly four years just to get him onboard? That told him that they really seem to need him!

And the man they sent to collect him had been so quick to go along with the suggestion, too… The only plausible explanation was that someone had finally recognized his talent, and if that was the case, they'd be looking to hire the best damn demoman the UNSC had ever seen! And if the name of their ship, -Mother of Invention, was it?- yeah, that was the one. Well, if it was anything to go by, then these guys would have all sorts of toys for him to play with! Chemistry labs and fuse components and C-4 and C-7 and high-yield explosive formulae and plasticizers and grenade launcher rounds to scavenge and maybe even some of those everyday products that make such a good napalm when properly prepared!

Look out, aliens! Look out, galaxy! They were about to have to deal with him! Curt- Wait wait wait, how could he forget? He chuckled at himself. He was now to be known by his new codename (codename. HA!): Kentucky. He liked the sound of it. Freelancer Agent Kentucky. The Boombringer! Professional badass! He put on a deliberately cocky grin and tried it out. "But you can call be Kent, for short."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to remember that."

The agent jumped in his seat, surprised at the sudden interruption. "Huh?" His head whipped around the troop bay until they settled on a woman sitting across from him. "Oh! Um, sorry, I didn't see you there."

She smirked at him and brushed a strand of red hair out of her face before answering. "Yeah, and it only took you… Half an hour? Maybe a little longer? I mean, I've been here the whole time." Kentucky couldn't help but notice the arm she had used (the right one) was a prosthetic. And a much better built one than the units he'd seen on soldiers before. "I'm New Jersey, by the way."

"Well, it is just a pleasure to meet ya, Joooiiisey." Kent laughed as soon as he finished mimicking the old Earth accent. A glint of light caught his eye, and he looked down to see a closed butterfly knife in the girl's hand. "Whoa now, I thought toys like that were on the "do not carry" list for airlines these days!" he shot with a grin.

Jersey just raised an eyebrow, half smiling. "Uh huh." Without even breaking her gaze, she flipped the knife around her robotic hand a couple of times, folding and unfolding it quicker than her audience's eyes could follow. After a few moments the knife returned to rest in the palm of her hand. "You want to try and take it?"

Kent just chuckled again. "Nah, it's cool. Hell, I'm in no place to judge you there." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device with two buttons and a trigger on it. "Some things you just can't trust to the armament boys, right?" He put the detonator away before continuing. "So, where'd you get a number like that, anyways? It custom?"

Jersey looked down at the blade and shrugged. "I don't really know. Maybe? It was a gift." She smiled as she ran a finger over the small butterfly emblem etched in the blade. "My dad got it for me, just before he shipped out. Made me feel a bit better, to be honest... He hasn't come back yet..." She leaned back and sighed. "God, I'm not going to be able to stop worrying about Mom, now." After a few awkward moments, she looked back at Kentucky. "How about you?"

Kent grinned, a false look of confusion creeping over his features. "Why would I worry about your family? I hardly know 'em!"

The woman shot him a disapproving look. "You know what I meant."

Kent shrugged. "What, my kin? Hmm… that's a damn long answer you're asking for."

"Well, I've got time." The woman replied, leaning back in her seat.

"Okey dokey then! First off: we're nothing special. Belt miners. We blew up asteroids and scooped up the ore, that sort of thing. Used to live out in the Draconian Fleet, mining station four, born and raised. Even got the ink to prove it!" The man stood up, turned around, and without hesitation pulled his UNSC shirt off, revealing a tattoo covering his back of-

"I-… Is that a dragon eating an asteroid?" Jersey gawked in disbelief.

"Yeah. Totally."

She blinked twice. "… Alright, let me rephrase that, why is a dragon eating an asteroid?"

Kent rolled his eyes as he turned around. "Uh, because it's friggin' awesome? And it's also the station's flag so, you know, patriotism bonus. Anyways, we were makin' an hones-"

"Um…"

"What?"

"Could you maybe put your shirt back on?" Jersey's face had started to turn red.

Huh. That is adorable. Kent shrugged, a grin back on his face. "Sure thing, my bad." He continued as soon as his garb returned to its rightful place. "So anyway, those douche-bag aliens forced us out of house and home, right?

The black-haired young man watched from the cargo ship's observation deck as the massive violet ships finally opened up on the distant station, purple orbs and blue beams lancing into it. He could scarcely believe it. His home of nineteen years, being ripped apart seemingly just because the creatures felt like it.

But all the same, anybody who could have been saved had already been saved, with only a couple Banshees moving towards their escaping ship. They must have been focusing on the station's destruction. The younger man looks up at the older man. "Pops. Weren't you gonna…?"

"We wait until we're told. Some folks still need to say their goodbyes." The older man replied.

Just then, a radio crackled to life. "Alright, Bonomo. Burst it."

The older man sighed, closed his eyes, and pushed a button on the large console with the antenna. A blinding flash of light consumed the old mining platform and blew apart the violet ships, before their own craft jumped into slip-space, barely escaping the blast.

The younger man bowed his head. "Goodbye."

Kent paused for a moment. "So… we equalized that… But then I was out of a job, so I thought 'Fuck it! I'll blow up more aliens!' Joined the marines, right? Was able to pay for my family to move further from the front, even. But… I mean, you still worry about them."

Jersey nodded. "Yeah, you do…"

"So I thought I could funnel enough money home to maybe get them to the inner colonies. Anyways, blah blah blah, stuff blew up-"

As the smoke cleared, the grunts frantically looked around, confused that the humans had seemingly vanished. They looked about, but nothing doing! The squad leader looked around, before spotting the little gray canister the smoke had shot out of lying on the ground. After letting out a high pitched growl, it stomped on the hollow shell, crushing it underfoot. Just then, another grunt noticed a little red light blinking on the leader's methane tank. "Um, boss?"

Before he could say a word more, half of the squad's methane tanks detonated, killing most of them. The last few screamed and ran about on fire for a moment or two before the flames roasted their lungs. Meanwhile, the black-haired marine was crouched in a foxhole, the rest of his squad safe behind cover. He was giggling like a madman. "Suck it, munchkins!" He shouted, grinning.

"-some other stuff blew up-"

The black-haired marine dropped a fairly heavy metal tube as he sprinted from the hostile, praying that the brute's aim would remain as abysmal as it had already proven. The shots flew wide of him as he heard the grinding wheels of the Chopper coming closer. He counted down in his head, the detonator in hand.

Three… Two… One…

He pulled the trigger on the detonator, setting the tube-charge off just as the Chopper's seat hovered over it. The concussive force sent the seat flying over the one large wheel, as if a giant hand had pulled a lever. The brute itself lost consciousness when his head hit the earth. Then the bladed wheel finished the job in spectacularly gory style. After ensuring he wasn't going to be crushed by falling debris, the marine fell to his knees, exhausted from the running, but smiling at his work. "Oh, dear, I appear to have made quite a mess," he chuckled.

"-then just recently-"

The black-haired marine grinned from behind the wheel of a huge eighteen-wheeler, as he came screaming up to the on-ramp. He didn't know all the nuances of driving, per-say, but he'd seen enough action movies to stir up a rough idea. He did wish he hadn't caused the engine to start smoking, though. He roared down the overpass, rapidly approaching the Scarab that was harassing –nay, wasting- the human platoon on the highway below.

When he was certain he'd secured a good launch angle, he propped the door open and wrenched on the steering wheel. Then he bailed out of the careening truck and watched as it went flying over the side of the overpass, and collided with the body of the metal giant. He'd got an even better shot than he'd hoped! The trailer of the truck had become wedged into the troop-bay, and the Scarab struggled to stay standing with the extra weight. The marine coughed a few times before standing up shakily on the overpass, admiring his work below. "YEAH! How ya like my driving, asshole!?" he yelled, his head thrown back. Then he struck the detonator, and lit the truck's trailer full of propane alight.

"-and next thing I know I get this guy in a blue ODST suit with some sick-ass boomers strapped to his chest shows up, asking if I want some sort of promotion. And last thing I heard, the Bugs had gotten pretty close to the folks back home, so I'm all like:"

"I'm gonna be honest, Florida, I like your style. And I REALLY like how someone finally noticed my sick skills." The black-haired marine nodded as he spoke, a hand to his chin. "I'm awfully tempted, but… I've got a request I'd like to see granted, first."

The blue-armoured man nodded, his face imperceptible from behind his helmet. "Well sonny, I'll see what I can do for you. Shoot."

The black-haired man walked over to his small desk, and retrieved a small framed photo of two black-haired teenagers, a woman, and a one-eyed man. "I've got a family, right? They're living on Coral currently, but…" the marine walks over to a table where several documents labelled "top secret" lay. He picked one up and brought it back over. "I know I'm not supposed to have these, but I know a guy. Sue me. I'm lookin' out for me and mine. Says here that Covvie forces are estimated to be within striking range of Coral within a year."

He looked back up at Florida. "Frankly boss, my folks have already outlived one invasion. I'm not sure they could pull it off again. I need your help. If you can get them somewhere safe, you'll have your freelancer."

It was dead silent in the room for a good five minutes. Kent shifted his weight nervously, unable to read Florida's face through his visor. Then the agent looked back up, with something the marine couldn't quite identify straining the optimism in his voice. "Son… we'll have your folks on the next shuttle to Earth herself, or my name isn't Agent Florida!"

"But his name isn't Agent Florida." Jersey tilted her head.

"What?"

"That's just a codename."

A few moments of awkward silence hung in the air, as Kent regained his train of thought. "… Anyways, to finally answer your question, yes. I will miss them. But I'll miss them a lot less from me being absent than from them being dead."

Jersey shrugged as she digested all of the information she'd just heard. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Then it hit her. "Wait a minute, I thought we weren't supposed to talk too much about our pasts?"

Kent had himself a hearty laugh over this. "Pfffffff, what? Nah, man that's gotta be one of the stupidest rules I've ever heard." Then his grin took on a smug twist. "And besides, it's not like they're gonna kick me out for something like that. Not when I'm so valuable that they sent one of their top agents just to get me to tag along!"

Jersey just shrugged. "I wouldn't be too sure about that. I got recruited by the Director himself." Now it was her turn to shoot a smug smirk at her co-passenger

Kent jumped up and covered his chest with both hands. "Oh god, right in the pridey bits!" The act managed to get a giggle out of Jersey.

But of course, that was the exact moment a concealed monitor in the corner of the troop-bay decided to turn on. "Ahem."

Kent spun around in surprise, and was greeted by the image of an older man with glasses and faded green eyes. "OH! Sorry, my bad." He quickly sat back down on his seat and buckled his harness.

The man seemed to bore holes in Kent's head from behind suspiciously glare-filled lenses. "Well, if you're done wasting our time, then I feel the need to inform you both that you'll be arriving on-board the Mother of Invention shortly. You are to depart your Pelican and wait with the other recruits for agents North Dakota and Florida. They'll be guiding you on your introduction to this ship. Understood?"

The two recruits both nodded, eager to explore their new home.

"Good." Without a word more, The Director looked at someone off-screen, and the feed cut out.

Jersey shifted her weight some. "Wow. What a fuckin' douche."

Kent just chuckled. The man had obviously been one of those "I take my job much too seriously" types. "I know, right? Jeez!"