(A/N) Well, it's time for another update, and this one is brought to you by the excellent StormBlue, featuring Agent Nebraska! Gonna keep it short and sweet, and leave you all to it, as it's pretty late on my end!

Enjoy!

Chapter Seventy-Two – Keeping An Eye On Things

Agent Nebraska

Written by StormBlue

"To assess the quality of thoughts of people, don't listen to their words, but watch their actions." ― Amit Kalantri

"If he's called us all in for another change in the Leaderboard, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what, Kent? Put a stick of dynamite under the Director's bed?"

While it could have worse, sharing a living space with Kentucky got old pretty quickly. While the self-proclaimed "Boombringer" at least understood the concept of personal space, he never wanted to stop talking. And occasionally the time came where Nebraska just wanted to shut him up. Which was, more truthfully, most the time. His head was beginning to throb, despite the medication that Killian had given him upon treating his injuries. He was still sore from that last mission. He just hoped that Dr Grace had been worth it.

Kentucky snorted, shaking his head. "Of course I wouldn't do that," he added. "Besides, dynamite is such old method of explosive-making technology. Nitroglycerin-based bombs are effective, but they're pretty general in their uses. Personally, I'd go with something a little more flashy, such as-"

Neb tuned him out in favour of finding his other gauntlet. The room they shared was an odd mix between empty and cluttered: cluttered on Kent's half, while his own half remained mostly empty. While the room wasn't as messy as the one Georgia and Utah shared, Kent's collection of various items were beginning to spill over tentatively onto the empty spaces that Neb hadn't filled. And that led to times, such as now, in which he couldn't find one of the few things he kept in the room.

Finally he located the last piece of his armour under a few blueprints of something he would probably rather not know about, and tugged it on. Kent was trying to find enough space on the desk to store a few coils of wiring, and finally settled on the unoccupied surface next to Neb's bed, still talking about the advantages and disadvantages of different chemical compounds, so Neb just shook his head and turned to leave.

"-and that's why it takes longer upon the contact of heat to actually light up- oh, you're leaving already. Okay, I'll just try to pick up where I left off when I come back to this later." Neb could hear the sound of Kent's hurried footsteps as he caught up to him. "I bet we're late."

"That's what you get for trying to get to a good spotting spot with your experiments. By the way, could you not handle dangerous chemicals where we sleep?"

"Hey, they're not dangerous! Well, they are, but not when I'm handling them. Well, it is, just not when I'm working in there. I keep all the more unpredictable stuff in the actual labs. Sometimes it's just easier to take my work home with me, in a sense," came Kent's protests, each one immediately after the other. "Half the stuff I bring back is with Georgia or Florida, anyway."

Neb gave him a smile to let him know he was teasing. Kind of. "Still, it's hard to get some rest when you're lying there wondering if that smell is normal or if something's about to explode in your face. And you didn't answer my question before. What do you have against the Leaderboard?"

He was curious, about the board, about how the board was viewed by the others. To be honest, it surprised him how strong an effect it had on the soldiers, and he wanted to know the reasons behind this. Kent, for one, seemed vehemently against it.

"It's a dumb system, that's why. People aren't numbers to be categorized. They're people. You know, with certain exceptions. Like Maine. And Alaska, the crazy guy who talks to himself. I'm almost certain Carolina's a robot, as I'm not convinced the Director isn't either. Anyone who gets obsessed with the board can go suck on- wait, don't tell me you agree with it?"

Neb was uncertain as to what to say. He just went with the easy option. "I'm undecided about it."

Kent eyed him curiously, going uncharacteristically quiet. It was disconcerting. "You're one strange guy, you know that?"

Neb was taken aback. "You think I'm strange? You're like...seven years old still."

They were approaching their destination and were evidently the last to arrive. A few glances were sent their way, but most had their eyes facing forward. What a bunch of obedient little soldiers.

The Director turned toward them. His hands had been clasped behind his back, and he allowed them to fall to his sides as he had turned. His face, as always, was stern, but less so than Neb had gotten accustomed to seeing, and he couldn't see his eyes behind the thick glasses he wore on his face.

Nebraska frowned slightly. He didn't like it when he couldn't see a person's eyes. He wouldn't let it bother him, especially since the Freelancers and Insurgents mostly wore helmets that protected and concealed their faces when in battle, but it just made the Director that much harder to read.

He pulled his attention back to what was happening, as he had almost missed the words being spoken.

"In light of the recent missions you have undertaken, the Leaderboard has been updated once more-"

"I knew it," Kent muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"-to reflect the headway we have gained and your individual successes and failures." The Director glanced at the blue screen as the names once again were rearranged; still only showing the top six names.

1: Carolina

2: Wyoming

3: York

4: South

5: North

6: Alaska

Watching those whose names were showed, Neb could tell that Wyoming and South were both clearly pleased at moving up. He couldn't see Alaska's face, as he wore his red and black helmet, and York's expression didn't change, casual as usual. He could barely see a hint of a smile grace Carolina's lips as her name was still securely at the top.

The Director continued to speak. "Because of your efforts, the Crimson Sun failed to complete their mission, and Doctor Isla Grace is alive and safe for the time being. However," he paused, his brow furrowing and tone falling lower, "one lost objective will certainly not deter them. We must remain vigilant."

A few of the more unseasoned freelancers cringed slightly under his gaze, and he held their attention for a moment longer. Finally, he nodded his head toward the door. "Dismissed."

All twenty armour-clad figures filed out of the room one by one, conversation starting up once again as soon as they were outside and moving in the hallways. Predictably, everyone wanted to see the rest of the list and began to move out toward the nearest available full list.

Nevada called out to the other freelancers within earshot. "Hey guys! I have a data-pad with me, if anyone wants to hear the rest of the rankings," she said, waving her tablet in the air.

"Well of course," Colorado said, and Neb didn't fail to notice how quickly she responded. "Read them out."

Nev frowned slightly, showing irritation at 'Rado's attitude, but didn't saying anything about it, instead just clearing her throat. She skipped the top six, since they had already seen those.

"Seven, Virginia-"

West made a slight noise of contentment at the knowledge that her sister hadn't fallen more than one rank.

"-Eight – California, nine – Maine, ten – Minnesota, eleven – Colorado, twelve – New Jersey-"

At this, Jersey glowered at the cobalt freelancer, while 'Rado's grin was coated in smugness. Neb could tell she still wasn't as high as she liked, but she was above her roommate. He already knew the Jersey and 'Rado were both very competitive, especially with each other, so their reactions weren't much of a surprise, but they were still entertaining to watch. Nev continued with the list, oblivious to the reactions of the others, and it was his own codename that came next.

"-Thirteen – Nebraska, fourteen –Florida, fifteen – Nevada, sixteen – Georgia, seventeen –

West, eighteen – Connecticut, nineteen – Kentucky, twenty – Utah."

So, thirteen? That wasn't so bad. He had just gone up three, and he couldn't deny that it felt good to be getting higher, that he was noticed. But there was another part of his mind that argued, that cold, logical voice that said he was in the perfect place.

It had been his experience that being in the middle – in almost any situation – had the most advantages. Those on top and on bottom were noticed, if for different reasons, but in the middle he could fade away from attention. From there, being neither in the higher group or the lower group (as most rankings he had seen in his military career, the soldiers tended to split off into groups according to their positions during downtime) he could approach either and get closer to both.

Not that this was necessarily true where the freelancers were concerned, but if one looked close enough, there were connections to be made. There were those in the project who didn't care about what rank they were and just strived for unity, those who just wanted to be their best, and those who desired recognition from the Director. Mostly the latest divisions were between the different teams, names those usually under Carolina's command and those under Wyoming's, but it was entirely possible that the Leaderboard also has something to do with it. If nothing else, it certainly added to the pressure.

He thought back to the continuous tensions on the ship. There had been a lull in the infighting since the last mission, once they had something to do, but Nebraska had been… entertained by his companions.

He had learned early in his life that people could be placed into four different groups. The ones who avoided conflict, which of course there were none aboard the ship; they were in the middle of a war, so conflict was their job. There were the ones who tried to stop conflict, and those kinds of people were few and far between in times like this. Then there were those who did what they thought they had to, and lastly, the ones who thrived in it.

He had to admit he was in the latter group, and it wasn't something he regretted, or was ashamed of, certainly not, but it wasn't something that his teammates needed to know about his character. The less any of them knew about him, the better.

Life was more fun when secrets were involved; namely, his own.

The secrets of other people were fun too. He was always amused when someone thought they could hide something from him, and more often than not, made it his personal mission to find them out. It drove one of his former squadmates mad, though their superior at the time thought he was just imagining things. But still, Neb liked to know things, especially when he could slowly pull the information out of his victims.

Even if they don't know they're victims, he thought, his eyes sliding over everyone in the corridor.

His own musings were halted in favour of observing them, the numbers sinking in.

Sota, who'd been standing in the back away from the others, was another one that was extremely focused on the board and what it meant for him. His only reaction to having been moved up two ranks was a slight upwards curl of the lips and a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking away.

There were a few who seemed a bit bitter about their placements, like Connie, West, Georgia and Utah, although their moods might have had more to do with the fact that none of them had been allowed to go out in the field.

'Rado had an air of satisfaction, though Neb knew her well enough to know she was far from content. No doubt her mind was already back in the training room, searching for ways to hone her skills further.

Wyoming walked past their group, amusement glittering in his deep eyes. "Looks like some of the rookies are beginning to make names for themselves," he said.

"Pretty soon we'll be taking your place," 'Rado taunted.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Colorado," Jersey snapped, and yet another fight between the two came close to erupting, had Kent not interrupted by grabbing the red-head's metal hand and started dashing away, dragging her with him.

"Come on, Joisey!" he shouted. "You promised I could show you my new ideas!" and with that, they were gone.

'Rado watched them go, anger dissipating on her features. Nev had already walked off, twiddling with her data-pad, and it was just the two of them left in the corridor. She looked over at Nebraska, the smug smile back on her lips.

"So, you made it up to thirteen?" she said, smirking. "Well, just try to keep up with the rest of us."

With that she turned on her heel and stalked off, leaving Neb alone.

"Oh, I will," he promised to the air, smiling wryly to himself.