(A/N) Hey guys, time for our latest update in Phase Two: Betrayal, written by the fantastic Minaethiel, from the POV of Agent Colorado! Lots of exposition here, and maybe a sense of how things stand as we move on with the plot! Also, for those still not aware, we are currently taking applications for Agent Texas, so if you're interested, head on over to our forum and fill in an application form! Also running our voting period for our inaugural awards ceremony for Red vs Blue fanfiction, so head on to either our forum or our website to take a look at the nominations, and cast your votes!

Hope you enjoy this one as much as I did!

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Restless

Agent Colorado

Written by Minaethiel

"You aren't afraid of throwing yourself in the path of danger, but you're terrified of letting anyone in." – Richelle Mead, Shadow Kiss

"Serena! Take cov-"

"AARON!"

I shot awake, my heart pounding in my chest. My sheets were a tangled mess, and I fought to kick them off. On the opposite side of the room, Jersey breathed quietly, her contented movements a far cry from my own frantic experience. Sighing, I blinked and leaned back onto my pillow. Wiping a hand across my face, I felt the lines of tears that had escaped while I was sleeping.

Damn it. I had to stop that. There was no room for weakness in this project. Closing my eyes, I tried for half an hour to get back asleep, but my efforts proved futile. With a sigh, I got out of bed and slid the door open as quickly as I could, making an effort to close it just as quietly. For a second I just stood there. The hallways were dark, and the solitude in the shadows seemed to offer a silent promise of comfort.

I made left the barracks and eventually found myself staring out into space in one of the many observation rooms around the ship. This one was my favourite, of the ones that I had come across, at least. It was just far enough out of the way that I would usually find myself alone; it was a nice place to just think. The sim mission had been an utter disaster. I had been told to disable the generators, and I had. Yet apparently it had been the completely wrong decision to just blow them up. Who cared if a bunch of sim troopers went without power for a little while? We had our mission, and I had only done what I had deemed to be necessary. However, as if getting ripped up over the generators hadn't been enough, I had gotten taken down by Utah. Utah, of all people. He seemed more incompetent than some of the sim troopers at times, for crying out loud.

"Huh. No one is usually here at this hour."

Turning from my silent stew of anger, I looked behind me and saw Agent California standing behind me, his hands were in his pockets and he looked around lazily, taking in what little scenery there was. Honestly, the only thing out of place there was probably me. For a second he met my eyes, but almost immediately he looked away, and I raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

I had heard people talk in snippets about California. Apparently he nearly killed a former agent names Arkansas during a training match, a while back. The only thing I knew about Arkansas was that he and another agent, Pennsylvania, had gone rogue, escaping with another prisoner on-board the ship. I had noticed that the older Freelancers didn't like discussing the topic. Usually they would change the subject if asked about it; at least the ones I attempted to inquire to – North, York, Florida etc. Now, staring at California, I wondered if he would be more forthcoming with information.

"Couldn't sleep," I said simply, and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

"Seems to be hard to sleep for a lot of us lately."

"Because of Arkansas and Pennsylvania?" I asked boldly, looking for answers, fed up with trying to read between the lines for information.

That did it. The smile disappeared. With its disappearance came a look in his eyes that I recognized to be barely suppressed pain and anger. However, when he spoke his voice was surprisingly calm; only a slight trembling indicated how much he hated the subject.

"What do you know?"

I turned away, looking out on the view and motioned for him to join me. Part of me thought he wouldn't, and I don't think I minded that too much. Stay away from everyone, 'Rado. You'd only be setting yourself up for a fall. However, after a brief pause he quietly walked over to my side.

"I know they went rogue and escaped with a prisoner."

He scoffed, but it wasn't a happy noise. It seemed almost strained. "You barely know anything."

Irritation swelled within me, but remembering the look in his eyes, I fought to restrain a snappy retort and instead tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible. "We're just the rookies," I said, with just a hint of bitterness. "Apparently we're not important enough to know this information."

He glanced over and looked away again in that way of his, which, to me, almost seemed like a nervous habit. It was freaking me out a bit, quite frankly.

"I saw your performance in the Danger Room. You're not bad. Impulsive and overly aggressive, but not bad. From what I've heard, your sim mission performance only faltered because you disobeyed orders."

Now I grew indignant; sick of hearing about 'obeying orders' when they were obviously shitty orders. "I disabled the generators, as ordered, and only got taken down because Utah got lucky!"

"I never said it was a bad thing," he pointed out, somewhat mildly. "Control your temper and you may make it far. You might even stand a chance against Ark and Penn," he added darkly.

I sighed, not enjoying how I'd hear their names said as if they were poison, yet I still had no idea who the hell they were or what the fuck they did.

"What did they do that makes all you Freelancer vets so damn skittish? What is it that makes these two different from anyone else? Sure, they deserted, but so did half the Insurrection!"

I don't know what I said, but he grew even more irate. "It was just Ark at first. He shot the Director and freed Harper."

Anger vibrated through his voice even more clearly at the mention of the second name. I was half tempted to press for more information on this Harper guy, but from the look on his face... California was lost in his memories as he recounted what Pennsylvania and Arkansas had done.

"Penn didn't turn traitor until after he and Alaska showed up to apprehend Ark. That was... that was after Ark shot Agent Michigan."

He stumbled over the name of the agent, and I breathed in a sharp intake of breath at his lapse, putting two and two together quickly.

"Did you... did you love her?"

I had heard Michigan's name mentioned several times. Her locker was still in the locker room, and coincidentally it was next to Massachusetts, whom I understood had also died when the two traitorous agents escaped. Like lightning, California whipped around until he was looking me straight in the eye, fury and grief all over his face. It was enough to stop me breathing for a split second, struck dumb in the face of such raw emotion.

"Yes, I did! And because of them I'll never get to see her again! She was the first one to come across Ark. She was the one who wanted to give him the chance to surrender peacefully! He was our teammate; we were supposed to depend on him to watch our backs! Instead he shot her, in cold blood! By the time Massa showed up she was already dead," he added mournfully. "Penn took Alaska down before shooting Massa in the gut, and went with Ark and Harper."

His voice had risen considerably, and though I could tell he wasn't yelling at me, I still felt... well, small. I hadn't realized just how deeply the betrayal had shaken the vets. California, in particular, seemed... broken. Just like I had been after Aaron had died. It had only happened a little while ago, the pain was still fresh in my mind, and some days I just agonized over thinking what I could've done to save him. What I should have done.

Looking at California now, I could imagine that he tortured himself over Michigan's death every day. Maybe that was why I defied all of the rules I had set up for myself, and hugged him. He stiffened in surprise, and I backed off quickly. Adamantly facing the darkness of space, I kept my voice carefully controlled when I finally worked myself up to speaking, but there was a detectable trace of sympathy in it.

"I'm not going to say that I understand exactly what kind of pain you're going through," I sigh, my shoulders slumping slightly as a small crack entered my voice, "but I know what the origins of it are like. Being powerless to save a loved one. Having to face their death alone." My eyes become unfocused, remembering the nightmare that I had had which spurred me into wandering through the ship. "But you're lucky. You have friends here that want to help. Don't take that for granted."

I stepped back, leaving him to stare out the window. I could see him shaking slightly, but as I turned away, I didn't look back. I knew what that kind of pain was like. I felt in every day since Aaron had died. A bullet to the heart. A bullet meant for me. I wouldn't be able to stand having that happen again. So much death... I had dealt out enough death of my own, but it was never enough to satisfy the pain I felt for Blake and Aaron. Sometimes, I believed nothing would ever be enough. Walking away from California now, I could barely hear the stirrings of an argument.

"No, I'm not... Don't start up with that again, it wasn't my fault..."

I walked away quietly, a ghost in the halls of the ship. However, passing by the mess hall, I smelled the unmistakable aroma of grilled cheese sandwiches. Poking my head in suspiciously, I looked around and silently crept inside. Whoever was up this late at night and raiding the pantry was going to pay dearly if there was going to be shitty food to eat for breakfast tomorrow, just because they used a bunch of ingredients.

Creeping towards the serving line, I looked in and caught sight of North, and his sister, South. I rolled my eyes in both exasperation and puzzlement. North didn't seem like the kind of guy to break the rules, yet here he was, munching away on a sandwich with South. I had honestly never seen South so relaxed before. I had only known her for a short time, and from my first impression of her was that she was intense, and highly aggressive. She reminded me a bit of myself, actually. However, I couldn't help but wonder why they were up in the first place. Curiosity consumed me, and though I just had a feeling that South was going to have a problem with my presence, I tapped on the line.

"Does anyone on this ship ever get some sleep?"

Both of them swivelled in their seats to look over at me. North, as I expected, gave a welcoming smile, but South glared, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I guess you guys couldn't either, considering you're in here for a midnight snack."

South opened her mouth to reply, but North cut in before she could say a word. "Do you want to join us? We've got plenty more where these came from." He motioned to the small plate of sandwiches.

I felt my eyes widen in surprise. I was almost certain that half the ship had a problem with me, and the half that didn't just wanted to steer clear of me. That's how I wanted it. Made it easier if we lost someone on a mission. Looking at North and South now, I hesitated slightly, wondering if I could find a polite way to turn down North's offer. However, after the sombre conversation I had had with California, I kind of wanted to talk to a couple vets who were a bit more stable. Plus, North was actually one of the more amiable Freelancers on the ship.

So I nodded, and entered quietly through the side door, taking a place across from the twins. North offered me the plate of sandwiches, and I took one gratefully, biting into it. My eyes popped open in surprise.

"Christ. This is the most edible thing I've had on this ship so far."

North shrugged modestly, and South rolled her eyes, but I could see her head raise arrogantly, as if North's skills with grilled cheese were a personal point of pride for her. I couldn't blame her really; Blake had been such a good comedian that I used to have him show off his comical side at family events.

"There are plenty of other edible things in other parts of the kitchen too," South mentioned with an obvious 'fuck off' vibe.

I raised an eyebrow, too tired to truly get bitchy with her. South's attitude had been haughty towards all of us newbies when we arrived. I didn't like being talked down to, but starting a fight in the mess hall at night was a bad idea. The kitchen staff would have a fit if we fucked things up. Besides, I had too many thoughts weighing me down to even lift my pinky in protest.

"Nothing I'm interested in, I assure you."

"Then why are you here at all?" The more aggressive twin practically demanded, a hint of a snarl to her voice.

"South..." North's voice came warningly and she shot him a look of irritation, but quietened a bit.

I gave a small nod of thanks to North, but turned to answer South anyway. "You older Freelancers have your own ghosts that keep you up; I've got mine."

"Like what? Your sim mission performance?" South responded snarkily, going immediately for the easiest target.

I could feel my patience with South starting to fade away, but again, North stepped in before I could say anything I'd regret.

"South, there's no need for that. She's our teammate; be nice. What's keeping you up, 'Rado?"

I started slightly at the question, my hesitation causing me to break eye contact. "Just... old memories and new information. Between both of 'em there's plenty to keep me awake," I replied cryptically.

The twins exchanged a glance, a message passing between them that I couldn't hope to understand.

What memories?" North asked softly. South, for once, kept silent, finding her sandwich more fascinating than whatever I was going to say. I honestly didn't mind.

"Old combat memories, North. I've been in the military for ten years now. Sometimes the things I've done keep me up as I replay them over in my head." True enough, even if I was kind of avoiding a direct answer here.

"Anything in particular?"

He was trying to draw me out, I could tell. I was surprised by the sincerity of his questioning, and the actual concern he seemed to have. Although I don't know why I was so surprised; he was a brother, after all. He was probably used to comforting his sibling. Teammates weren't that different really. The same ghostly smile that California had sported spread across my face.

"A mission that went wrong. I was part of a squad created specifically for hunting down high value Insurrectionist targets. I was on what we liked to call a 'couples mission,' meaning that it was just me and another person. Our intel told us that a colonel was hiding out in a well-defended building on a disputed planet. It was supposed to have minimal men, and lax security. A quick infiltration and grab and bag mission. The intel was faulty. We got in and there were more men than we could reasonably handle ourselves."

Maintaining eye contact began to get hard. I hated this mission, I hated the Insurrectionists, and I hated reliving each second as I retold the story.

"We decided to retreat. I don't remember when, but suddenly I tripped. I don't recall if it was the concussive force of a grenade or my own fucking feet, but all of a sudden, my squad-mate was in front of me and shouting at me to find cover."

I stopped, fighting to keep my voice flat.

"Then he cut off. Took a bullet to the chest that found his heart. Quick and painless. However I was still in a choke point. At this point I decided to start fighting back. Retreating was no longer an option. I don't remember much after that. There was only the next target to kill; the next corpse to satisfy my newfound hunger. And when I got to our target's office... I shot him. An entire clip from my pistol. I got booted from the Marines after that, which is when Freelancer picked me up."

Shrugging, I took another bite of food as the twins processed the little tale. South looked relatively unimpressed; in fact, I think she thought I was telling the story to gather attention. Whatever. North looked sympathetic.

"That alone couldn't have been enough to get you kicked out."

A wry smile tugged at my lips. "No, it wasn't, but I assure you there's nothing else you need to know. It's against regs to get to know each other for a reason. However, now that we're on the subject..." I paused for a moment. "What else can you two tell me about Arkansas and Pennsylvania?"

Another glance shot between them, and this time I could see very different emotions playing out. North immediately became more sullen, with a sad light playing over his features, while South, true to her reputation as being one of the most temperamental women on the ship, drew her mouth in a hard line, fury lighting up her eyes. Briefly I wondered if she would jump me just for asking, but instead she ripped her gaze to mine.

"What happened with them is none of your business, Rookie."

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Considering I might run into them myself, I think it's perfectly my business to know about them. How do they fight? Do they have any weaknesses? Are they the kind to show mercy or restraint?"

"Penn and Ark..." North began hesitantly, "Were good teammates. They were dangerous, but then we all are."

South snorted and looked away, her eyes narrowed.

"Pennsylvania is at his most dangerous when he's unarmed. He was nearly an equal match for Carolina in hand-to-hand conditions, and he was number two when he went rogue. He always seemed to be so intent on pleasing the Director... none of us know why he would go against us, or why he would kill Massa on the way out." He sounded confused and sad; a far cry from the angry way South was gritting her teeth. She looked over and offered up a single word of assessment.

"Bastards."

I narrowed my eyes in thought. "So no mercy. Pennsylvania, at least, seems more of a brute than anything. Unknown motive. It makes him unpredictable. That's more dangerous than those with motives you know. Since Arkansas shot first, I'm willing to bet he had a motive?"

I felt bad for pushing so hard for information – for making them re-live what had happened, in a sense – but this was war. There was no time for sentimental feelings or regrets. Emotions blocked progress, and that prevented the team from being properly prepared. I wondered if the older Freelancers would even have the guts to shoot Pennsylvania or Arkansas if it came down to it. I knew that I wouldn't hesitate for one second. They were traitors, and not only that, they had killed two of their own. By my hand or another, they would pay dearly for helping the enemy.

North, meanwhile, sighed heavily. "From what I hear, the UNSC ordered Arkansas' home – the place he grew up – to be destroyed as a punishment for Insurrectionist activity. When the Covenant attacked the ship, it was Ark and his team that brought it down. He was always good with technology, just like Nevada. The reason he wasn't apprehended immediately is because F.I.L.S.S. didn't have control over herself to unlock the door to the bridge right away. Ark is crafty, and good at observing people. He doesn't tend to make mistakes."

I nodded in thanks, thinking quietly to myself. Arkansas hated the UNSC now, just like I hated the Insurrection. I could understand that kind of enemy. Just one slip-up, however, one little overconfident move, and we could get him. Pennsylvania, however, was going to be interesting. Why would he turn on his teammates, injuring one and killing another, without a good reason? It was giving me a lot to think about. As I had mentioned to the twins, an enemy with motivation was the most unpredictable kind, and very dangerous

"They bleed the same as any of us do."

When South spoke up, I looked up, surprised. She wasn't looking at North or myself, instead focusing a hard look on the wall, before looking over and shooting us a defiant look and tossing her hair.

"Next time we see them... they're dead."

There was a lot of bravado in her words, and I wondered exactly how much of it was empty, and how much was true. Nevertheless, I tilted my head. "Can you tell me who this Harper guy they escaped with is?"

South snorted in disdain. "Insurrectionist. Crazy as crazy can get, and a lot luckier than anyone deserves to be," she added darkly.

North clarified quickly. "What South means is that each time we've had him, he manages to escape, or already knows we're coming and evades our attempts to neutralize him. He and Cal have some history; he's probably the one you'd want to ask about Harper. I don't recommend that though, now that I think about it. Harper is good. I don't know what kind of training he has, but he's a match for any of us, barring Carolina and one or two others.

South shot him an irritated look. "Some of us," she corrects sharply.

I nodded, my thoughts racing yet again. So who was in control in the Penn/Ark/Harper triangle? I had no idea, but the sooner I figured it out, the sooner I could determine who the head of the snake was. I looked at the twins and nodded in respect.

"Your enemies are my enemies," I promised solemnly, "Traitors deserve to die. Thank you for the information, and the snack," I added, surprising myself with my sincerity.

Waving a hand to the twins, I left them to be alone and started heading back to my own room, the faces of the dead, and the people that had killed them, flooding my thoughts. With clenched fists, I promised to bring down anyone that turned traitor for a bunch of mass-murdering rebels. With black thoughts forming a kind of shield around me, I went to bed, determined to be ready to fight whenever I was called upon.

Tomorrow would be a new day.