(A/N) Hey guys, so exams are all over, and absolutely no idea if they went well or not, but hey, that's all just part of the mystery of life, right? Anyways, we will be, as of now, resuming our normal update schedule, and launching back into full production, so for any of you who were worried by our relative silence and lack of updates…well, there's no reason to be. We ain't going anywhere! Bringing you a new chapter now, written by the fabulous Minaethiel, filling in for Avalanche Wolf for his Alaska chapter, and I think this is a pretty interesting one!

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Three – Landing on Eris

Agent Alaska

Written by Minaethiel

"Sometimes you simply need to drift aimlessly, in order to reach the destination of aim." – Lionel Suggs

Well, it's nice to see that nothing has changed much, Alaska thought to himself as he wandered down the still-familiar halls of the Mother of Invention. How long had it been since he had last walked by the mess hall? Five months, eighteen days, seven hours, and forty-five minutes. He remembered everything about his last day on the ship. And he also remembered everything before that. Fragments of anger kindled at his core, but he stayed in control as usual. It wasn't hard to do. He had had over five months to take out all the anger he wanted on Penn and Ark's little gang they had with Harper. The Crimson Suns, wasn't it?

Something along those lines.

It was cute; he expected his former teammates to be a little more creative, considering their methods of disposing of their enemies. Yet in the entirety of the time Project Freelancer had been disbanded, Alaska never once found himself feeling happy, or satisfied. As much as he loathed to admit it, he had been better off in Freelancer. More resources to use, people he could work with even if he didn't entirely trust them, and a more secure place to rest his head.

When you were out on your own, without the... comforts, of advanced equipment, it made combat a little bit harder. It was nothing he couldn't handle – he had been one of the most skilled agents in the program, after all – but he had gotten used to being among the most well-equipped soldiers he could think of. Now that he was back, he was savouring the time wandering through the ship. Taking in everything that had or hadn't changed was an interesting experience. The personnel had remained more or less the same, with a few exceptions, all of them as wary of him as ever. The janitorial staff had switched, but that was nothing new. Whenever they had docked on a planet it seemed as if they were replaced. That would probably hold true once they returned to Eris.

The newbies were probably the only ones excited. None of them had actually been on the ship for the events that had had a profound effect on the veterans. Alaska could see it in every glance and every movement his teammates made. Virginia was trying to go on as best as she knew how; working her hardest to show that she was still in control. He knew Massa's death had been hard on her. Even Alaska had grown to respect Florida, as annoying as he could be sometimes. But Virginia's bond with Massa had been stronger; something that Penn had effectively ripped to shreds. Not that Ark was any better; Cal had become much more isolated since his return to the ship. To Alaska, it was a curious and dangerous change, especially because he had seen what Cal was capable of before. Had Mich not been present in the cell with Cal, the white and red Freelancer probably would've killed Harper. But then again, Alaska reflected somewhat bitterly, it probably would've saved Mich's life had Harper been dead.

Curious thing, irony.

Not that he'd ever tell Cal that, or anyone for that matter. His thoughts were more often than not fixating on Penn and his betrayal. It was hard to believe he had trusted the man to have his back only a few months ago. But that moment in the room with Ark... he could just FEEL that loyalty snap in half when Ark had started talking. But he hadn't wanted to believe it. He trusted Penn; he shouldn't have. He didn't know how the Director expected any of the veterans to trust these new Freelancers either. He had already met one – Colorado, he believed her code name was now – and he hadn't been impressed. If she was put in the same room as South... well, he couldn't imagine that they'd go through three janitorial teams before that mess was cleaned up. She was too impulsive, too aggressive, and was just as arrogant as South, if not more so. He expected Colorado to learn her place the hard way in this project.

Agent Nebraska was decidedly average. There was nothing that immediately stood out, except for his attitude. He was far too nice to everyone, trying to get close to the whole team. He could understand the wariness of the more cautious members of the project. He didn't trust anyone so eager to help or get close to his teammates. He hadn't trusted Florida at first either, but then nobody had had his trust at the beginning of the project. Nebraska was going to have to prove his loyalty before Alaska had even an inkling to try and trust the other man. He was not going to make the same mistake he had with Penn.

West Virginia... Alaska hadn't known that Virginia had a sister. In fact, Alaska hadn't known that Virginia had such a... joyous, sister, for want of a better word. He had seen her enter the ship; she had been more hyper than Georgia when he got a new idea for a project. He had yet to see how she would perform, but her attitude enough to draw attention to her. Alaska didn't like it. In fact, he could see that attitude making her more than a couple enemies on this ship, and annoying most everyone else. York and North would probably get along with her, but that would probably be it besides Virginia. He had no plans to get to know her, let alone get near her.

The same went for Kentucky. He was like a pre-schooler in a grown man's body. He had seen the new Freelancer, and found him to be annoying as well. Hopping alongside the new group, he seemed excited at every new shiny screw he saw. Please. This was supposed to be a project for the elite of humanity. Alaska's face grew into a sneer beneath his helmet as he passed through the barracks. The room list had been updated. He was surprised Kentucky hadn't been put with Georgia. The two were bound to eventually be attached at the hip. A match made in heaven. Or somewhere else.

Although Kentucky's attention seemed completely directed to New Jersey, when he wasn't going on about some random ass bomb he was making or had made. They had ridden in on the same bird, Alaska supposed. That had probably formed some sort of bond. Jersey was surprisingly patient with the explosives expert. However she was a puzzle. Her prosthetic arm spoke of a likely traumatizing event. Like everyone else though she would likely keep it tucked close to her, as regs demanded. Beyond the arm, Alaska didn't see her stacking up to much on the ship. She was good in close quarters? So was Alaska himself, and Cal, and Carolina, and Maine... the list went on. Jersey was out of her league here. She may be able to best some of her newer companions, but the rest of the Freelancers? Not a chance. He bet that even the weakest veterans would be able to best the third batch of Freelancers.

Utah. He had proven to be just about as strong as Maine. Where the Director found these people Alaska didn't know, but what he did know was that Utah made up for in strength what he lacked in brains. Apparently he had already proven to be the king of idiotic comments. What little opinion he had already formed was that the strongman was too trusting, too kind, too unambitious. He already expected that South would want to kill the rookie, and Colorado didn't seem too fond of him either. The ship had enough "funny guys" on it already. Alaska didn't think his humour was going to be an affair with a lot of longevity. And if he thought it was, he was certain someone would beat the point into him at one point or another. It seemed to be a regular occurrence. He fondly recalled beating some sense into California when he had foolishly challenged him to a fight. If any of the rookies were going to get aggressive, Alaska knew it would be Colorado.

The last two women of the group were complete opposites personality wise, but their skill sets were similar. Connecticut was quiet and withdrawn, reminding him a lot of how 'Sota was. The rookie was apparently gifted with technology, much like Ark had been. Alaska didn't anticipate her being a threat to his position, or anyone's for that matter. He didn't expect her to cause problems either. Nevada, on the other hand, was also gifted with technology, and was just as annoying as West. With the threat Penn and Ark posed, he wanted soldiers under him that knew the dangers inside and out. Optimism was a dead concept on the Mother of Invention. If you had it, it was quickly snuffed out. Even Florida's dapper attitude had been shaken.

And always, there was Penn.

He had read the letter. His former ally knew he would find it. He could still remember the last line; the final one that drove Alaska to work harder and fight more fiercely. The one line that that truly drove him now. And I'm going to kill you. Alaska had puzzled over this for days; for months, and he realized that he wouldn't have it any other way. He would rather kill Penn himself than have anyone else do the deed. They had fought together and bled together. He had respected the taller Freelancer, and trusted him with his life once upon a time. That turned when he had nearly killed Alaska himself, and killed Massa. Was there respect now? he wondered. Enough for him to personally want to kill Penn himself. And enough still not to let anyone else do it for him.

Running his hand along the wall, he stopped on the plate that announced Virginia's room. Massa's name had long been removed. Instead it was replaced by West Virginia. He covered the second name, focusing on Virginia.

It had been a long few months for all of the veterans. Everyone still felt the pain from their losses, probably more so now that they were back. He had spent the time trying to hunt down those responsible, with little luck. Now he had a chance again, but the atmosphere wasn't the same. No one was the same. He didn't know who he could trust now. Moi was dead, or had never existed…or something. He still hadn't managed to puzzle that out yet. Penn was out for his own quest against Freelancer, but Virginia... she probably understood better than anyone what Alaska was thinking now.

Musing on this newest curiosity, he walked by the observation deck and noticed the entire group of rookies. Fresh off of their introduction, no doubt riding the high of the ship, despite the distance they already had off of the ground. Walking in, he leaned silently against the wall, blood red armour sticking out against the cold grey of the titanium walls as he listened to them speak.

"What a pretty looking planet! I bet we'll have fun with whatever they have in mind for us down there!"

The audible excitement in West Virginia's voice was almost too sugary for him. It was a miracle he didn't contract diabetes then and there. The snort of Colorado caught his attention.

"This is war, sweetie," she practically sneered, causing the other rookies to tense slightly. "We're not here for fun, we're here because we have a job to do. But then I suppose since you probably didn't earn your spot here you wouldn't understand what the concept of work is."

At once Jersey drew herself up to snap at her shorter teammate, but the entire would-be fight was interrupted at Alaska's slow, contempt-filled clapping.

"So you're the Director's newest choices? I must say... I'm disappointed. I was expecting people more capable. But I guess one of you already knew that I was expecting more," he said, with a glance at 'Rado. The cobalt rookie tensed slightly, dipping her head dangerously.

"So have any of you ever faced a madman in combat before? No?"

"Seems like there are plenty on this ship," Nebraska commented mildly, cutting off whatever 'Rado was going to say.

Alaska waved his hand dismissively.

"Madman is quite a subjective term. For instance, are any of you mad? Do you think the rest of us are mad?"

The rookies looked at each other, puzzled, and Alaska felt himself grow amused.

"No answer? I'm surprised no one told you who to avoid and who to count on. That's usually the baptism all new bloods get. Well, allow me to introduce myself. Agent Alaska."

"Old news," 'Rado said dismissively, turning to stare out the window. "You vets are all pretty confident for people that are going to get passed by a rookie."

Jersey turned to stare in contempt at the other woman before stepping towards him.

"Agent New Jersey. The grey one is Agent Nebraska, West is green and orange, Kent is green and blue, Connie is in brown, Nev is the darker green woman, and Utah is all white. I guess you already know 'Rado."

She held out her hand to shake his, but Alaska kept his arms folded, staring at it for a while before she withdrew it.

"Yes, Colorado and I had quite a nice conversation when she was recruited. She never did answer my questions about the well-being of her relatives," he watched as she tensed up, turning her head slowly to stare at him angrily, "but it did prove one thing for me."

He paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully before continuing. "None of you are going to be able to stack up against even the less gifted of us, let alone myself. Learn your places, rookies, and learn them fast. I wouldn't mind teaching you them myself though," he added with an amused smirk.

"Like we're going to take advice from the guy who lost it during a Covenant attack," the darker green girl, Nevada, drawled.

All of them pretty much had their helmets off, except for Colorado and Utah. The group turned to Nevada, and a couple of them chuckled. Ah, so they had heard stories about him. Well, it was about time. Alaska wondered if they mentioned him putting California in his place when he first arrived too.

"The guy who lost it? If you believed I was crazy, then I never actually 'lost it.' You cannot lose what you never had." He removed himself from the wall and took a step forward, his head raised as though he was looking down on all of them. "However keep this in mind; crazy does not make an enemy vulnerable. If anything it makes him deadlier. You'll learn when you meet our opponent. Well, one of them. We'll see how much fun you're having when you meet them."

Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room, leaving the irate rookies behind to ponder what he had said. Alaska doubted they were listen; half of them thought he was crazy, after all. Although, as Killian had mentioned before, you couldn't be a Freelancer AND be sane.

It just didn't work that way.