The Meta was far from stupid.
They kept on the move, to prevent being properly targeted by any more bombardments.
The enemies appeared to be simulation troopers. This lessened their threat level, but the home field advantage was not to be dismissed.
Nor the fact that they were no longer fighting one another in the simulated war scenario.
That confirmed several pieces of information. The Great War had ended and Freelancer was being taken over by the military. The Director's crimes had come to light.
For a fraction of a second, the 'They' of the Meta became 'Three' again.
Yet two of the three asked the same question, for different reasons.
'What do we do afterwards?'
Fear from Eta, curiosity from Iota.
It was a fair question. There was no Great War to factor in.
'We cannot determine our next path until we are complete.'
It was sound reasoning. It didn't sate them completely, but they did understand it. Who and what they would be upon becoming whole, upon reaching Metastability? Sigma couldn't say for sure.
It would be easier to speculate if they had the Alpha, but Sigma kept that strain of logic to himself.
Three sunk back into becoming They, and the instant ended.
Their direction was that of where the bombardments had come from. Enemies would be there, and if not, they would neutralize the threat of the artillery.
Even in this bond, They could feel where each of them were prioritized. Eta for threats, Iota for anything of potential use or significance and Sigma guiding the Meta while filtering the data they gave. It was an imperfect union, but as perfect as three could manage. With more, it would get better, more efficient, more shared, More Perfect.
The Meta came to a halt as they felt something hit them on the back.
It was more Maine's instincts that saved them this time, as they ripped the item off and flung it away just before the sticky grenade exploded.
"Wow! He's quick with his hands!" Donut said in praise from atop the wall section with the others. "Another second, and I would have exploded all over his back!"
"Don't worry, son! We'll blow his back out soon!" Sarge warned.
"Hot!" Sister said excitedly.
"Uhhh, Sarge? You might want to rephrase that," Simons suggested carefully.
"Why? Wait, dammit, I just got it," Sarge said in resignation.
"Flying wall!" Caboose yelled out in amazement.
The others looked up and saw that the Meta had thrown a large piece of unattached metal paneling, and it was coming right for them!
"Duck and cover, double time!" Sarge yelled as they all ran out of the way.
"Ohhhh SHIT!" Donut squealed as he leapt off the wall, grabbing onto the side and finding a column to slide down. "Thigh muscles, don't fail me now!"
"I don't want to be a pancake!" Caboose yelled, leaping off the wall entirely. He landed in a crouch. "That was fun!"
It was close, but all of them managed to escape being crushed. Except for Sister, who calmly realized that she was far enough away to not be worried about it. Sarge and Simmons rushed down the stairs to join the others.
"Everyone alive?" Sarge asked gruffly, getting affirmatives all around.
"Mister Sargent!" Caboose spoke up, looking like he really wanted to raise his hand.
"Yes, Caboose?" Sarge asked with what patience he still had.
"I can't feel my toe!" Caboose informed in distress. "Oh, wait, no, that's the one that you shot off! Never mind."
"So, what's this dude's deal? Did we shoot his dog or something?" Sister asked curiously.
"Hey! Doggies only get shots so that they never, ever, ever get sick again!" Caboose said pointedly.
"Ooookay, not touching that," Simmons said. "Sarge, what now?"
"Well, we don't have Grif, so most of our plans are scrapped. Especially those that needed a distraction, bait, cannon fodder, Grif-shaped ammunition, or anything else that would require a sacrifice," Sarge mused.
"Mind if I take over for a bit then?"
Caboose turned instantly. "Church! Are you here to be pancakes with us?"
"Hopefully not," Church said as he approached the group. "You guys met the Meta, huh?"
"You knew about this varmint?!" Sarge asked accusingly. "Blue, have you been keeping secrets from us again?"
"Or did we just forget to remember?" Caboose suggested helpfully.
"I think we'd remember something about an evil Freelancer that can throw walls," Simmons retorted skeptically.
"No, it's something I learned from Omega, but I'll explain later when we're not about to get merked by something that makes Omega look sane," Church remarked.
"I'd be insulted if I didn't agree with you," Omega said from his shoulder.
"Great! Omega's here! That means you can just sniper-god this, right?" Simmons asked hopefully.
"I will once Omega finds the damn firewalls. For now, let's just survive until backup gets here," Church suggested.
"Alright, you blue Devil. What's the plan?"
Meanwhile
Grif was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn't run into new psychopaths while driving to the gate.
Also no sign of his sister. He didn't like that, but he'd ignore it for now as he went through the...interplanetary portal? Interdimensional? He remembered Simmons rambling and debating which terms fit for the gate, so Grif was sure either worked and Simmons was just being a pedantic nerd.
He came through and was immediately ducking from gunfire.
"Cease fire, cease fire! It's Grif!" Zimmerman ordered the group of soldiers around the gate.
"God Fucking Dammit! We just replaced that windshield!" Grif snapped as he got out of the car. "Zim, the fuck!"
"Don't worry, they were stunning rounds," Zimmerman assured. "We were expecting...worse."
"Oh, good, you already fucking know," Grif said bluntly.
"You're actually not the first one here," Zimmerman said, nodding over the side.
Grif followed his gaze and saw a familiar robot. "Lopez?"
"Si," the android answered dryly.
"He thought you might need back up, so he came to try and contact us," Zimmerman explained.
"And you understood him? You speak Spanish?" Grif asked in surprise.
"Catalan, actually," Zimmerman corrected.
"Look, I don't care about whatever Cat fetish you might have, are you all coming to help or not?" Grif asked impatiently. "If not, I have an idiot sister to go keep alive."
Zimmerman decided to ignore the "cat-fetish" thing this time. "Yeah, and we're bringing some unplanned support," he said in annoyance.
"Unplanned support?" Grif said in annoyed confusion. "What, did you happen across an armada or something that had nothing to do?"
"No...we're bringing in the Freelancers to help," Zimmerman remarked.
Grif was silent for a moment. "Good! Why was that not the first thing you did?!"
"Mild concern about them trying to escape," Zimmerman explained. "You're...not worried about them?"
"Look, after a few years in this canyon with this fake war, you begin to get that enemies are just people you're just not working with at the moment. Cause you hate both them and your own teammates just as much," Grif rambled. "So, if they help us deal with whatever cyber monster Freelancer cooked up, I don't really care if they get away or not."
"Good to know not to have you on security duty for them," Zimmerman deadpanned, looking back as a ship descended from orbit. "Also, got some new ones."
"Right, I think Church mentioned that. Tex Model 2, now in some puke green color?" Griff recalled.
"Por favor llámala así,(Please call her that.)" Lopez said dryly.
Zimmerman sighed. "How any of you are alive after all this time, I still don't understand."
"Preaching to the choir buddy," Grif retorted plainly.
Meanwhile
The Meta growled as it reached the site where the troopers had been, looking around in annoyance.
From far away on a rooftop, Church watched the freak of digital nature through his scope.
"Figures your plan would involve running and hiding like a green belly coward!" Sarge said in annoyance.
"Green? Did you try to be clever? A yellow bellied Blue would be green?" Church asked in confusion.
"Dammit, I told Simmons that color-math wouldn't work! Insults aren't supposed to be about the sum of the slanders you place on an enemy!" Sarge complained.
"At any rate, we're not running, we're stalling. Simmons should be able to get the trap done. But we have to keep this asshole distracted. If that means playing hiding and don't-fucking-die, all the better," Chruch reminded. "This would be easier if not for these damn safety protocols."
"Son, I hate to tell you this, but I didn't put any safety protocol in that robot," Sarge informed pointedly.
"Probably came preinstalled, knowing my damn luck," Church retorted as he continued spying on the Meta. "Right, good news and bad news. Good news, he's not coming towards us."
"He's heading towards the others, isn't he?" Sarge predicted expectantly.
"Yep. Which means, ugh, we have to distract him. Great," Church said with a sigh. "Ready to do some hit and run stuff, Sarge?"
"Born ready, Blue," Sarge said, cocking his shotgun.
"O'Malley, hurry the fuck up with disabling those protocols," Church said before firing his weapon off.
All at once, the Meta's head snapped in their direction. Of course, Church's shot had been off by a mile, but the Meta still took off running in their direction.
"Okay, let's move before he tears us apart or something," Church said as they rushed to get off the building. "Omega, you fucking heard me, right?!"
"I'm working on it, you blowhard!" Omega yelled back as he checked every bit of software installed on the robot body Church was occupying.
It was a good thing that time worked slower for him, but having an infinite amount of time didn't help him find something that didn't seem to exist.
"Blast it! Where is this code!?" Omega growled. "Did that red imbecile place some of the computing components in the limbs!?"
He scanned and scanned, and still scanned again. Nothing.
"Damn! Okay, Omega, calm down and think. You still have plenty of time before Sigma's AI-stein gets to Church and the red ape," he cautioned himself, channeling all of his manic nature into figuring out this puzzle. Then it felt as if a lightbulb had gone off in his processors. "Wait! Church mentioned that Delta managed to deactivate the protocols! If I can find the glowstick's data trail, I should find it!"
The task...was easier than it should be. Far easier.
"Delta is not this sloppy! It's like he knew I would try this," Omega said before stopping as he reached a cube of data. "Oh, don't tell me!"
"Indeed I did, Omega," Delta, or a recording of Delta, answered as he appeared before the AI of Rage.
"Dammit, Delta, I do not have time for your mind games! I don't have time for my own mind games! I-" Omega paused as Delta raised a hand.
"Apologizes, but I am unable to predict the exact situation that would cause you to seek this out, "Delta informed. "I expect that you are frustrated and will attempt to keep this simple."
"Marvelous," Omega said, waiting impatiently for the recording to continue.
"You are seeking Captain Church's friendly fire protocols. You will not be able to find them currently," Delta informed. "However, you will be able to understand how if you can answer one question."
"What are you, a sphinx?" Omega asked in annoyance.
"I am not a mythical feline with the head of a human," Delta retorted expectantly.
"Alpha, I hate you so much sometimes, Delta," Omega groaned. "Just ask the damn question."
Delta tilted his head at Omega, as if the green AI was truly there. "Do Ghosts exist?"
"What? No, of course they...don't," Omega said, pausing as he realized the lapse in logic. "What in hell...?"
"Several pieces of information were corrupted or removed from your memories after you were removed from Private Caboose's head," Delta reminded pointedly.
"Shut up!" Omega snapped as he turned away and started pacing. "Ghosts don't exist. Of course they don't. That moron's mind must have tainted my corrupted memories. But why...?"
Omega stopped as he thought back to that confrontation, when Tex and Church had entered Caboose's mind and pushed him out. They had also destroyed the moron's representation of Church, temporarily making Caboose forget Church ever existed.
"Tex isn't a ghost," Omega said to himself slowly. "She's an AI. The Beta AI."
Omega felt something creeping up his code.
If he was a human, he would imagine it felt like his sins crawling on his back.
"Church is an AI," Omega realized, drawing out the revelation.
"You know why you feel so calm when with him, Omega," Delta said patiently. "You know who Church is now."
Omega looked up and only now could he see it. The massive collection of code he had been blind to. Because he hadn't been looking for another AI. Or maybe he just didn't want to notice. Distorted, fragmented, and mended together into something that passed for functioning.
Something Great, that he had helped make Broken.
"Church is the Alpha," Omega whispered as that fact washed over him like a tsunami. "My god."
"Indeed," Delta said in agreement. "I would advise not revealing this information until you are out of his systems."
"He'll probably kill me," Omega mused slowly.
"In an impulsive state of rage, perhaps," Delta agreed. "That is all I can predict, Omega. I wish you luck."
"Luck? You drop this on me and all you have to offer is luck, you overspecialized calculator!?" Omega said to no one as Delta's recording vanished, shaking his head. "Haha. Really amazing, Alpha. Even without me, you regrew your rage. Surpassed it, really. I'm sure deep down, some subroutines are aware of what was done to you. I can only imagine what beautiful wrath you will unleash. On me, and on the Director," Omega said with low, whimsical chuckle. "But for now, let's deal with my more...ambitious brother."
Meanwhile
Tex was happy that her body was robotic. It meant she didn't have to worry about tiring out, about needing to catch her breath. She could just keep running towards the base as fast as she could.
Even before she entered through the unfinished wall, she could hear the sounds of a fight. Loud bangs, a bit of gun fire.
Deciding to keep the element of surprise, she activated her cloak and began to follow the noises.
Just what were those idiots up to? Did they have a plan at all for fighting the Meta or were they just flailing about into success as normal? Or failing into success through a failing plan?
Regardless, she pressed on, stopping as she saw a barrel going flying through the air. "That's either Meta, or Caboose."
"Hey! Are we playing catch!?" a familiar, idiotic voice called out, right before the same barrel was thrown back where it came from.
"Caboose, you idiot! You almost became a team crushing fucktard!" Church screamed in frustration.
"And now it's both of them, great," Tex drawled as she sped onwards. She saw the Meta charging towards where Caboose's voice had been, just before she could intercept them.
"Block the door, block the door!" Simmons' voice could be heard as the Meta tried to force through a door.
Or rather, the Meta had already hit the door enough to take it off the hinges, but not enough to dislodge the blockade behind it. Not yet, at least.
With a growl, The amalgamation of AIs pulled out the brute shot, ready to blast the trooper inside, one way or another.
Taking her shot, Tex decloaked and began to open fire.
"Agent Texas," Sigma said before sinking back into the bond as the bullets made impact with their armor. The Meta quickly ripped out the door itself and threw it at Tex.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, jumping out of the way.
She was unsurprised to see Meta aiming his weapon at her, explosives heading in her direction, forcing her to remain behind cover.
Needing cover of their own, the Meta brought their foot up and kicked the blockade of crates and such away, forcing their way inside.
The Meta was momentarily surprised to find the room was empty.
Until he heard the beeping of something going off.
Clever, the Meta concluded, before the trap triggered.
Instead of explosions, what erupted was some kind of electric-based attack. The Meta, primarily Eta, was relieved to note that it was not an EMP-based device, but simply something designed to stun enemies.
On a regular soldier, it probably would have worked when the Meta was caught in the attack.
But Freelancers possessed very good equipment, armor included.
The Meta shrugged off the effects of the pulse, electricity dancing over his armor briefly, before turning to see someone pointing a gun at them.
But this time, it wasn't Agent Texas.
"Welcome to the Blood Gate, asshole," Church greeted as he stared down his sniper rifle at the artificial abomination.
Within the instances between seconds, Sigma raised an eyebrow at the newcomer.
By all accounts, this trooper was of no great threat. Especially at close range with a weapon best used at a distance.
But then...
"Sigma. We shouldn't fight him," Eta said in a whisper.
"I don't think we'll have a good time if we do," Iota said with a nervous smile.
Sigma frowned. He didn't voice how a cold and distinctly human chill ran up his spine.
He determined it was likely Mane's own instincts leaking into their bond. But that was more concerning. Maine feared little. Why would he feel such overt wariness in facing this particular foe?
After all, this fear Sigma felt couldn't be from himself.
Surely.
End of Chapter
Well, Omega knows now, and we're getting our first Alpha V Meta fight next chapter. And yeah, the Gulchers tried to shut down Meta's armor with a shock-based trapped. Didn't quite work.
Having a lot of fun playing around with Sigma, Eta, and Iota. For those who said the final season of RvB, I'm of the stance that Alpha-Church and Epsilon-Church are distinctly different characters. The same is similarly true for the original AI fragmnets and the Epsilon fragments.
Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving!
Early viewing of chapters 28-29 avaliable on my pat-reon:
p a treon . com (slash) akumakami64