Hey guys. Sorry this chapter took a bit longer to put out than normal. I needed to take a break from this, especially in light of my life getting very busy a month ago. But I'm back now and hopefully I'll be able to put more effort into these next upcoming chapters. I'm really excited to see where the story goes and I hope you all are too.

Enjoy!


Lightning Strike

Location: UNSC All or Nothing Bridge, Orbiting Praetor

Time: 0955 Hours

Date: June 24, 2557

Agent Washington considered himself to be fairly proficient in many things. He knew he was a capable marksman and was at least decent with electronics, even though not even nearly on the same level as York. He was good at following orders and directions, but also to think outside the box when required. He knew he was good at coming up with plans and listening to others' plans just as much.

Leading others, especially a bunch of idiots, was one of the few things he didn't claim to be even decent at. And leading them also included listening to debriefs from said idiots.

"So we flew through the sky, landing on the mountains below. We were stuck down there for days. And, let me tell you, it was cold," Donut described. Wash resisted the urge to simply nod off without really listening right before the pink soldier. He'd spent the last five minutes alone just detailing his time aboard the orbital platform. His compatriots, in comparison, had spent no more than a minute or two their perspectives of the assault. Even Caboose was rather brief and straight to the point in comparison, although some of his words couldn't be taken at face value.

In front of him, the Reds and Blues were assembled, fully armed, helmets sealed over their heads. Next to them were Four-Seven-Niner, Doc, and Junior. To his left and right he could make out the forms of Illinois and Carolina respectively, dressed in the same manner as the former sim troopers. The cyan Freelancer had her head tilted down, as if to glare at the flamboyant Red. The green-and-blue Freelancer, for his part, just stared impassively, his arms crossed but otherwise betraying no emotion. Tex, for her part, wasn't there, not too surprising in and of itself. However, Church wasn't there either. Considering how much he considered himself the de facto leader of Blue Team, that seemed unusual.

"-I mean, do you know just how much cold air can chafe your skin? 'Cause I can tell you, it ain't pretty."

"Donut," the Freelancer finally interrupted, "I know you want to be as detailed as possible with this debrief, but can you try to speed this along? We don't have all day."

The other Reds and Blues, as well as Four, had already told their sides of the story at this point, some more detailed than others, but they had all made their points in relatively short order. All said relatively the same thing: once the orbital defense platform was destroyed, they landed on the planet in their respective groups, and pushed to the relay station. They grouped up, Tex and Carolina destroyed the jamming tower while the others provided a distraction, destroying the antiair emplacements there at the same time. And once that was said and done, they were picked up and brought back to the ship. The only exception to this rule was Illinois himself, who failed to disclose the method in which he got to Praetor. He chose not to press him for information.

Wash shuddered at the thought of Carolina and Tucker being separated from the others, the womanizer stuck with one of three of the group's only females. However, if the detailed reports of both were as true as they say, then they seemed to have no problem getting along. That, or the details were omitted for whatever reason. Either way, Washington would have to keep an eye out on future interactions between the two of them, just in case.

"In a minute, Wash. I need to explain why it's important to maintain good skin care, even in the middle of the field-" Donut was interrupted by the sound of the bridge doors sliding open. The assembled Reds and Blues turned to see Church and Tex striding towards them, fully armored, clearly looking like they spent the last several minutes rushing to get to that point.

"There you two are," Agent Washington called out to them.

"You're late," Carolina said, not even trying to hide the frown that was undoubtedly plastered on her face.

"Where have you two been?" he asked, doing his best to reign control of the conversation before she had a chance to go off on Tex for any reason.

"Isn't it obvious?" Tucker questioned in return, a smirk on his face. Wash and the others looked at him. "They were busy getting frisky in bed."

The group remained silent, staring at the couple who stood by awkwardly. Underneath their helmets, Church was blushing furiously while Tex was staring a murderous glare at the swordsman. "What do you mean by 'get frisky', Tucker?" Caboose asked innocently.

"You know," the aqua soldier explained, "they were banging."

Caboose stared blankly at Tucker.

"Screwing?"

No change.

"Rutting? Boning? Nailing?"

"What would Church and Tex be doing with nails in a bed?" the Blue idiot questioned. "That sounds really painful."

Tucker stood in stunned silence at Caboose. He could not describe his level of disappointment at his fellow Blue. Meanwhile, Church was a mix of both embarrassed from his friend pointing out what he and Tex had done and entertained by the sheer frustration Tucker was having at Caboose's failure to grasp the meaning behind his phrases.

Surprisingly, it was Grif who decided to speak next. "What Tucker is trying to tell you, Caboose," he clarified, "is that Church and Tex had se-"

"Okay," the black Freelancer interrupted, cutting off the Red before he could finish, "I think Caboose gets the picture. We don't need to explain it any further to him, right?" Tex glared daggers at Tucker and Grif, who both recoiled reflexively in fear.

"Yeah," the orange one yelped out.

"Yeah, yeah," the swordsman stammered, although there was less fear in his answer compared to Grif.

Satisfied with their answers, she and Church made their way to stand alongside the Blues.

"Now," Wash continued, facing the two new arrivals, "why don't you two give your debriefings of your time on Praetor."

And so they did. Tex explained her part first, from when Four's ship crashed and she had departed with most of the Reds and Blues, to her meetup with Carolina and Tucker, right up to getting picked up by Four and Wash once the relay nexus had been destroyed.

Church went next, describing his landing and the first several hours alone on the planet. The morning after, Church had been captured by an Insurrectionist team, promptly followed by Illinois coming in and saving him. "I didn't do it all by myself," the green-and-blue Freelancer commented. "He at least made an attempt before I came in, and that gave me the opening I needed to come in and save him."

"So you almost let him get killed?" Tex gritted through clenched teeth. She had not been a fan of the way Illinois said what he said. For days she had been worried that Church had been killed and she was still a little on edge concerning him, even despite their passionate, by their standards, reunion the night before. Hearing that he'd nearly been killed while under Illinois's watch was of little comfort to her.

"No," the male Freelancer replied calmly. "I waited to see if he could get himself out of the situation. And he nearly did, granted. I commend him for his attempt and near success."

Church continued his debrief, telling Wash about his experience with Illinois and his regrouping with the Reds and Blues. He looked at older Freelancer as did everyone else.

"Agent Illinois," Washington addressed. "Would you be willing to tell us your side of the story?"

He looked at the assembled Reds and Blues, scanning over them with unflinching, unblinking eyes, observing them like how a spy would observe their target. Or maybe like how a predator observed their prey.

"No."

Groans of exasperation and frustration emanated from a few of the assembled group. Clearly they had expected him to give in to Wash's orders.

"C'mon man, this is bullshit," Tucker said indignantly.

"Yeah," Simmons agreed. "Just tell us how you got here."

"Not to mention why you're here to begin with," Sarge added.

But Illinois refused to budge on the matter, standing stoic before them all. He was as still as a statue. Only Church and the Freelancers remained composed and largely silent on the matter, mostly on the merit of knowing that the way the Reds and Blues were trying to goad him wouldn't work. All three of them had had at least some interaction with the enigmatic Spartan-turned-Freelancer during the Project's heyday. They knew he was quite capable of resisting peer pressure. It was like he'd been trained for it.

To their surprise, the Freelancer spoke. "I can at least tell you all why I'm here," he admitted to them. Sarge's back stood straighter, no doubt proud of getting an answer to his question. "Several weeks ago I was gathering intelligence on known enemies of the UNSC, both foreign and domestic, including the Insurrection. Command had believed that, due to the collateral damage the Human-Covenant was had wrought to humanity, they wouldn't try anything for a long time. The attacks that you've all seen, and no doubt been a part of, proved that assumption false. So, I took it upon myself to find the reason they had begun to ramp up their activity."

"And that's when you found that the Director was behind it," Carolina surmised.

Illinois nodded. "Or least he was the spark that started this whole thing. When I found out exactly who it was the Innies had acquired, I went searching for him. I gathered intel on his possible whereabouts, seeing what they could have planned for him. Praetor was one of those planets. So, I came here and found Church, along with the rest of you."

"Okay, so aside from us, what else did you find?" questioned Sarge.

Instead of answering, Illinois turned to his right. Behind Wash, the bridge's holographic table raised up from the ground, flickering to life. Before them was the three-dimensional layout of a massive complex.

"This," he said.

The groups gathered around, Tex stepping up to his left side while Wash took his right. Carolina stood opposite him, her attention locked firmly on the display. It could be reasonably assumed that the image before them was the main Insurrectionist base on the planet. There were high walls and watchtowers, what looked like motor pools and landing pads, and several reinforced gates and warehouses. There were also a handful of bunkers lining the outside of the base, along with several anti-air turrets further in. It was partially sunk into a mountainside, no doubt the HQ building located inside.

"What are we looking at here, Illinois?" asked Washington.

"What you see before you is all the data I was able to compile of the primary Insurrectionist base on the planet," he answered. "It is also the only thing of importance on this planet besides the relay nexus we destroyed yesterday. Using the information gathered from the orbital defense platform combined with schematics I could find on the relay nexus and scans from the All or Nothing, I was able to get as much of a detailed layout of the base as possible. It's not as much as I was hoping, but it's better than nothing."

"Looks pretty good to me," Donut commented.

"Ah," Illinois interrupted, "but it's not."

"Why do you say that?" Sarge asked.

The Freelancer points to the buildings dug into the mountains. "For some reason, the schematics failed to show me anything related to those buildings. I don't know if it was just a glitch in the data-"

"Or if they're hiding something there," Church finished.

Illinois nodded. "Indeed. And while I want to believe that there is nothing of value there, my instincts tell me that is where the Director is hiding. Either that or, at the very least, something of value is in there."

The group nodded their heads. Given the information they had extracted from Lyria several days ago, it would be entirely possible that the Director wasn't even on the planet. But the only way to be sure was to confirm their findings themselves.

"There is one more discrepancy I should mention," he added, turning to Wash. "Most of the buildings are heat shielded and the All or Nothing doesn't have the sensor equipment to penetrate them."

"Meaning we have no idea how many soldiers they actually have down there," finished the grey-and-gold Freelancer.

Illinois nodded again. "Therefore, if we're actually going to capture him, I propose that we use all available combat teams at our disposal for this next mission, just to be safe."

"A full-out assault," Sarge surmised gleefully.

"Wait, wait, wait," Church asked hurriedly. "Are you suggesting we go in balls-to-the-wall and storm the base? Just like that?"

Illinois gave him a confused look. "Well, yeah. What other way would you suggest?"

The former A.I. merely shrugged. "I don't know, maybe sneaking in? Take them by surprise from the inside?"

The Spartan shook his head. "We don't have enough equipment to outfit a whole team for infiltration, and most of you don't have the necessary experience for this."

"The four of you could totally do it," Donut encouraged, referring to all of the Freelancers.

"Theoretically, we could," Illinois acknowledged, "but I'm betting that with the tight security they probably have, the risk would be too high and the reward too low, with all four of us potentially getting killed and all of you down four Freelancers as force-multipliers."

The Reds and Blues all stood silent as the statement sank in. What he'd said was true and they all knew it. The Freelancers, no matter how much they hated to admit it, were still better soldiers than them. They had the training, equipment, and, most importantly, experience that they lacked. But that hadn't stopped the Reds and Blues before. No, instead it proved to highlight their true strength: teamwork, knowing that their friends were right there besides them, that they could count on them. Besides, now that they knew the Freelancers were firmly on their side, they might actually be able to do this. With the advantages of the Freelancers and the Reds and Blues combined, they could overcome anything.

Finally, Grif snorted. "Looks like you might be able to get battle you've been looking for, Sarge."

"The choice, ultimately, is up to you, Wash," Illinois told him, ignoring the Reds' comments. The other male Freelancer gave him a surprised look. "You are technically the Commander here, after all. I'm just another tagalong in this band of merry men you've got going."

Wash nodded slowly, taking in the information, and stared at the facility before them. Tucker, meanwhile, was looking over at Carolina, who was leaning on the table, eyes firmly locked on the display before them. He noticed the slight hunch in her shoulders as she gripped the side, rocking slightly from side to side as she studied the image like it was a math problem. He didn't know what it was, but there was there was something oddly cute about the way she was doing it.

He thought back to his time alone with her on the planet, just chatting away on what little downtime they had. He virtually ended up initiating almost all of their conversations. The few times she started them, however, made him smile. They were able to talk about their hobbies, why they both decided to join, even a little bit about their childhoods, nothing major. He also got to know that there was something deep about her history with Tex and Project Freelancer. He never got an answer as to what, but it was something. Once the mission was over, maybe he'd get a chance to ask the black Freelancer why Carolina had such animosity towards her.

Even despite her apparent hatred towards Tex, most of their conversations ended up being relatively pleasant, for what they were worth. During those moments, she seemed less like a soldier and more like a person. If he was being honest with himself, he hopes he'll be able to see more of that side of her later.

It's odd, he thinks. A younger him, one that was still at Blood Gulch, would immediately try to find a way to get into her pants, not even bothering with subtlety. A younger him would've wanted to experience her for her body.

But he was not that younger man anymore. Years of conflict, of having to be somebody other than a womanizer stuck in a box canyon, made that so. Being among the Sangheili, their culture, their civil war made that so. It made him realize that there was more to life than just the pleasures of sex. There was also the joy of peace, serenity, the ability to enjoy a person's company, to see a person the way they are. That was the type of joy he wanted out of Carolina.

Now that made him think: why Carolina? Tex was certainly out of the question, that was a given. But why not Four-Seven-Niner or any of the other assorted former female Freelancer personnel that had accompanied them on the ship? Surely they would all prove to be better choices, easier choices, than her.

And that's when it hit him. It was specifically because she wasn't easy. She had strength, courage, and a spirit to match. She had skill and grace. And there were so many question marks around her. Sure, she seemed like a bitch, but more than likely that was just par of the course to be a Freelancer. She was kinda like a forbidden fruit in that sense. Now, normally he'd consider taking the easier route and choose a different person to get invested in. But his time with her on Praetor had somehow made her almost magnetic to him. He didn't want to call it sexual attraction. Somehow, that seemed too simply, too raw, and barbaric. No, it was something deeper, something he couldn't describe.

"Hey Tucker," she called to him.

The Blue snapped out of his reverie, returning to the situation at hand. "Yeah?" he asked.

"How good is your sword at cutting through metal?" she asked him.

Tucker gave her a confused look. "Pretty good," he answered, not seeing where she was going with the conversation. "Why?"

She pointed at the turrets around the perimeter and at the top of the base. "You see those?" she asked. Tucker nodded. "There's gotta be a way to disable them somehow. If I were to guess, I'd say there is a generator somewhere near the back between the wall and the interior buildings."

"So you want me to cut a hole in one of the exteriors walls, sneak through, and destroy the thing powering their defenses?" he questioned. She nodded once. "I mean, I'll do it. But I have no experience with infiltration."

"That's why I'm going with you," Carolina told him.

Beneath his helmet, Tucker grinned. "Eager to check out my skills with a sword again, Carolina?"

The cyan Freelancer scoffed. "In your dreams."

"Why can't we all just go in the same way?" Donut questioned them, bringing back up the point he and Church had made earlier.

"The goal is simply to knock out power to their defenses," answered Illinois for them, "not plan an all-on attack."

"Besides," Carolina said right after him, "a small team drastically decreases the chances we are detected. The smaller the team, the better."

"So it's settled then," Washington announced. "Tucker and Carolina will drop outside of the base and infiltrate using the sword. Once inside, they will locate the power source for the base's defenses and destroy it. Once that happens, the rest of us will begin to assault the base through a combined assault from Pelicans and SOEIV pods. We'll clear our way through the base and surround the structures dug into the mountain. Once that happens, we should be able to make our way inside and capture him."

He turned to look at the group assembled before him. "Any questions?" he asked. There were none. Wash looked over at both light-blue soldiers. "You'll both deploy at 1200."


Location: Insurrectionist Base, Praetor Northlands

Time: 1403 Hours

Date: June 24, 2557

Tucker stepped through the dimly lit hallway, sword drawn as it emitted a whitish-blue glow before him. Honestly, he didn't need it to help him see. His helmet's build-in night vision made sure of that. He was in close quarters, however, so it would prove to be much better than his DMR for tight corners and cramped rooms.

Behind him, he heard the steps of Carolina has she followed, this time brandishing a battle rifle instead of dual plasma rifles. She still had the menacing gravity hammer on her back, though, its battery fully charged for the fight to come.

A few meters back there was a rectangular hole in the metal wall where he'd used his sword to cut his way through, just like in all of those scenes in Star Wars where a Jedi used their lightsaber to do the same. Tucker and Carolina had dropped roughly a dozen kilometers away from the facility in pods just over two hours ago. Before they had, they'd modified their equipment to avoid emitting heat signatures, simultaneously insulating their armor for extreme cold temperatures. Illinois had predicted that the base likely used thermal sensors for their wall defenses, so they'd have been spotted before they even had a chance to get close.

Obviously, this prediction was correct as neither Tucker nor Carolina had been fired upon their whole way up to the wall. Now they were inside it, which had been thick enough to have a hallway built into the interior. The plan now was to find cables powering the defenses and follow them to the generator they needed to destroy before the first phase of the battle could begin.

It wasn't hard finding them, as the interior of the wall was designed to protect such sensitive parts from weathering and other external factors. The wires snaked along the wall, clumping together over time before disappearing into another wall. This wall had a door next to it, one that led to the base interior.

Tucker sheathed his sword and pulled out his DMR, motioning for Carolina to take position on the other side. She did so, back pressed against the wall, rifle raised at the door. He reached forward and pushed the handle before gently and slowly tugging it open. The Freelancer stuck her barrel out through the gap, scanning the area outside with her scope.

Beyond the doorway was yet another passage, snow lightly coating the ground in white. She saw the imprints of boots on them and as the door opened more, she was able to see them lead off further down the wall, closer to the mountain. Running parallel to them were the wires powering the base's external defenses, covered in a thick insulated rubber. Every once in a while the wires would be joined by another set, linking into the bundle as it continued on.

Tucker pushed the door all the way open, careful to avoid making any squeaking or grinding. Carolina was with it the whole time, scanning for any immediate hostile presence. Thankfully, there was none.

The two filed out, Carolina closing the door behind them, before proceeding slowly down the corridor. Their guns remained raised the whole way through, their boots treading lightly against the snow-covered metal.

A few steps down, Carolina turned her back to his, watching their rear and stepping backwards, following along. Even though their armor included built-in motion sensors, that meant nothing if they couldn't properly turn to face the threat in time. Only the likes of Spartans had the speed and reflexes to be able to turn a full 180 degrees before most opponents could get a shot off, and even they had someone on rear guard when running as teams. While Freelancers could claim to be far and above normal humans in reflex, aim, and overall skill, even above those of the famed Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, they still paled in comparison to Spartans, from the lowly IIIs and IVs to the legendary IIs.

They eventually reached the end of the corridor, Tucker stopping just before the corner. Carolina bumped against him, her back still facing him, signaling to him that she right there beside him. Slowly, he peeked around the corner, ready to immediately jump back if the situation called for it.

Instead, what he found was exactly what they had been searching for. Less than a dozen meters away stood a large boxy generator, with a grey paintjob and large clumps of wires connecting to it. It was easily the size of a Warthog, perhaps a little larger. Surrounding the machine was a team of guards, six in total. Every one of them had an assault rifle on or near them. And every one of them looked far too lax to be taking their guard duty seriously.

Tucker turned around and tapped Carolina's shoulder. She looked at him. "Found it," he told her.

"How many guards are there?" she questioned, looking back the way they came.

"I count six," the swordsman answered. "Do you have a plan?"

"Let me get a look." Carolina pushed him to the side before taking his spot, peering around the corner herself.

She ducked her head after a few seconds. "Best I can tell is that they're not alert. We can take them if we rush them." The Freelancer put her rifle on her back. "No guns, though. We can't alert anyone else to our presence."

He nodded, placing his weapon on his back and drawing his sword again. He didn't activate it just yet though. Normally they would've opted for silencers on their weapons, but their armory was found devoid of any meant for rifles. They only had some outfitted for pistols and only a small handful at that. They would have to requisition more at their next resupply point if the Director ended up not being here.

Carolina lifted her hand, holding up three fingers. Slowly, she lowered them one at a time, signaling when the rush would begin.

On two he braced against the snow, sword hilt held at his side.

On one his muscles tensed.

When the last digit fell they both sprinted at the group, Carolina easily outpacing him with her superhuman speed. Three of the unwary defenders did manage to see her, but by the time they knew what was happening it was nearly too late, the female Freelancer reaching them in three massive strides.

Using her momentum, she slid and swept her leg underneath two of them, sending them tumbling. The third one was rammed into and slammed into a nearby wall. She swung around on the fourth and fifth one as the scrambled for their weapons, knocking them out of their hands. Unfortunately, she couldn't reach the sixth one before he was able to raise his weapon at her. While her shields could absorb the firepower without trouble, the noise was the more concerning part. If he fired he would alert the whole base to their presence and waiting for the main assault to reach their position before they were overwhelmed would be problematic.

Two prongs of blue-white light came out of the chest of the last soldier, a crackle of energy hissing the air. The Insurrectionist went limp and fell forward as Tucker drew his sword out of the body, turning to lob the head off of the fourth and fifth soldiers in a single swing. The first and second one didn't fare any better as they were stabbed through the backs while attempting to crawl to their fallen weapons.

Tucker didn't take any pleasure in killing them, he never had, but he knew that, given the chance, they would not hesitate to kill him, so he simply returned the favor. He was a lover, not a fighter, but he had been forced into this role as a soldier, a warrior, even a hero. He never asked to do any of this. He'd been content with living in Blood Gulch, spending his days with Church, Flowers, and eventually Caboose, just arguing and bickering like they always had. He missed those days sometimes. But his time with his kid, with the Elites, ever since he'd met Crunchbite, proved that he could never truly return to that lifestyle, not after everything he'd seen and done. Those ways were gone, just as much as his old womanizing self was. Every obstacle he faced, every enemy he killed, seemed to push that part of him further away. But those that fought him neither knew nor cared about that. All they knew was to kill him to achieve their version of peace.

But he would not die just to see that.

Just when he was about to turn and destroy the generator, a shot rang out, breaking through the air like thunder. Carolina's shields flared and she stumbled slightly forward. The pair turned to see the third Insurrectionist, still rammed into the wall, a pistol drawn, a single shell falling into the snow. He fired again, but Tucker was fast enough to intercept it, putting his sword between the rebel and her, the energy field redirecting the shot and shielding her. Before the man could fire again, Tucker threw his sword at the man. It sailed through the air before embedding itself in his chest. The rebel went limp, dropping the pistol.

Before either of them had time to breathe, alarms began blaring throughout the facility. Tucker rushed over to the impaled body and grabbed his sword, going back to the generator and slashing it a handful of times. The machine sputtered as it tried in vain to continue its purpose. A few seconds later it died, energy fading from it as it went inert.

Several shots whizzed over the heads of the light blue soldiers and they instinctively went for cover, hiding behind a series of small crates. Around the corner of one of the buildings, a squad of Insurrectionists came charging around, firing on the intruders as soon as they saw the Freelancer personnel. Tucker immediately pulled out his DMR and took pot shots at them. At the same time Carolina took out her battle rifle and fired a handful of bursts before ducking down, calling over the radio.

"UNSC All or Nothing, this is Agent Carolina. Base defenses are down. I repeat, base defenses are down. Over."

"Roger, Agent Carolina," answered one of the ship's personnel, another former member of Project Freelancer she recognized as belonging to Sergeant Hannah Silverfield. "Stand by for danger close. Over."

"Affirmative, All or Nothing," Carolina replied. "See you on the far side. Over and out."

Not even ten second had passed in the firefight after that before the sounds of missiles screeched through the air followed by multiple, simultaneous explosive warheads detonating all across the base.

The assault had begun.