Part 3: Destination

"Okay, so seriously -- where's the bottle of wine? I've heard about your little picnics with Samael, and I'm just waiting for the day you bust out the pinot noir to try and see if you can be my second gay experience, I know it's comin'!!"

"Hey! Rude! I know you better than that, I'd totally go with a chardonnay!"

North broke into an easy laugh as he and York grinned and lightly punched each other's shoulders before returning to gazing out across the quiet jungle together. The sun had set several hours ago but it'd been a long day and a little peaceful conversation with a good friend seemed like a good way to unwind after an intense training session.

"Besides, it's not like me and Sammy bone every time we come up here," York added with a mock huff, even while North spotted the sheepish smile on his pal's muzzle. "Just...most of the time."

"Yeah, everyone knows roofs are the gayest part of any building's architecture," North reasoned, laughing again when York shoved him playfully. "Lord, you two are somethin' else. Don't even want to know how you guys still find the energy to bang each other after all the crazy stuff you've both been dealing with lately."

York chuckled and shrugged a bit as he threw a friendly arm around his companion's shoulders. "Hey, what can I say -- sex with Sammy's hardly a chore, it's pretty much just like catching up on conversation with a good buddy, except...you know. Using your dicks."

North couldn't help the teasing smirk. "Oh, well, since you wanted to get me caught up on everything that happened at Xulod, should I take my pants off now? Or are you gonna chat with my balls right through the zipper?"

York giggled, squeezing his arm around his neck and reaching over to prod the fingers of his other hand into North's ribs a few times. "Hey, you can shut up and eat my entire ass, pal!" They both laughed again before York smiled and turned his eyes back to the surrounding jungle, the broad fronds and smooth tree trunks glowing in the pale luminescence from the celestial bodies above. "Man, you and Zona missed one crazy night, though...it was insane, start to finish. There was good music, good food, good booze and, uh. Good drama, too, I guess..."

York rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as North shook his head with a low chuckle. "I spent enough quarters wondering how it worked between Tex and Wash, buddy -- I'm here for the latest twists and turns in the weird romantic saga of Sirca's most-wanted heretics. Lay it all on me, dude, I wanna know how long it took Samael to be naked, how many times you got slapped in the face and how many bullets Nelson got off before the bats carted her off to the time-out corner!"

York's dramatic huff was a welcome start to his animated storytelling as North smiled and loosened his arm around his companion's shoulders while sinking into the energetic retelling. After all, before meeting Samael, York had always been the one friend North could listen to without reservation. He knew how to spin a yarn, and his voice was a soothing familiarity. Perfect for relaxing to after a long-ass...lord, how long had it been since Samael had returned from his voyage to meet the bats? Barely more than a week, but what a helluva week it'd been.

He was still trying to catch up to all the new developments with his friends -- apparently, when it rained, it poured with these guys. From the moment he'd found York and Samael at the L-Base bar, drunk off their asses and doing a miserable job of covering up the little redneck's battered heart, things had changed at a breakneck pace all over the damn place. Because Tex and Wash hadn't been a weird enough discovery to learn about back then; that seemed almost normal at this point.

Samael knew about the bats now, which was nice since it meant there were pretty much no other secrets they needed to keep from their short Sidewinder pal. But since that wasn't enough, apparently the guy was somehow involved with Andee. North wasn't sure how he felt about that. Andee was a hoot and all, but Samael's heart seemed way too big for that little jerk.

Not that North had been given much time to contemplate the pairing; soon after Samael dragged his emotionally-tattered hide back from Xulod, Wash and York nearly bit the dust on a fruitless mission out to Sampi. Well. Maybe not entirely fruitless from what North was gathering. But then again, if he was being honest and taking a good step back to view from a distance, Wash and York made sense, at least. Sort of. Their friendship had always been tight, on a deeper level even than York and Samael. North wasn't entirely surprised the right nudge turned their bond intimate.

And then Freelancer itself had been on a downward spiral, pulled toward the drain even faster than before. Tex, North and South were among the few remaining agents from their original class -- too many others had been lost, or sought escape as each mission grew more harried, as every job became riskier and steeped even longer in the muddy waters of the Director's dark ambitions. Tex never gave any hint of whether or not she knew more, if she could shed some light on the man's goals and whether or not it was going to get all of them killed at this point. North wasn't sure she'd need to confirm a damn thing, though. He could feel the shadows creeping closer.

"...And after we, uh. Brought up Sampi again, well. One thing led to another and...bam." North's eyes slowly came back into focus as he smiled over at York's flushed but delighted features. "Me and the little squirrel had one helluva after-party. So...so yeah, buddy, you missed out on some epic underground adventures."

"I'm honestly bummed," North replied with a half-smile. "We should have another poker night. Have Sammy bring his guitar so I can see if he's actually worth a damn or if you're just too much of a sap for your favorite little dick-sock to judge his musical abilities fairly."

"Hey!" York's feigned shock was as entertaining as ever. "I would never let a perfect ass stop me from making rational, objective judgments."

"Uh huh." North grinned and reached over to ruffle his friend's mane, failing as always to muss it beyond a few loose strands. "It'd still be nice -- been a little while since we all sat down and caught up. That and...I guess I need to meet the...boyfriends?"

York huffed quietly again. "We're not. We're not, uh." North's expression softened as he gazed over at York, at the way his eyes flicked briefly to the key before the hand in his lap rubbed along a thigh. "We're working on it."

"Oh, lord," North murmured even as he tightened his arm around York's shoulders. "Don't be so nervous, Gabe." The old name made his friend look up with a faint smile. "You two were put on this damn ring to be partners, that much was clear a long time ago. Taking it to the next level just makes sense. You got this, champ."

York looked strangely vulnerable...although it wasn't a bad thing. North didn't feel a bolt of nausea the way he had when he was being an idiot about his friend's realizations all those quarters ago. York's sensitive side had always been strong, stronger than North's, and North appreciated it now. There was something enviable in having all that strength, but still kneeling at the altar of emotional discourse. It made York a better person than most.

For all those reasons, North remained quiet as he waited for his companion to reply.

"Wash...it's not like he's some...game I'm trying to win," York explained softly.

North accepted the burst of guilt, but didn't let it linger for once as he quickly leaned close to his pal. "Sorry, York -- definitely didn't mean it that way. You two have always had something special. And if there's something more to be had, you'll find it." York glanced at him and their eyes met as appreciation flowed freely between them. "Wash is a tricky little dork to get close to, but he cares about you, too. So...I mean what I said. Don't be so nervous." He gripped into York's opposite shoulder and nodded firmly. "I know if he does like you, it's not because of that insecurity you hide under all those big, dumb smiles."

York's muzzle quirked but the look he gave North was full only of gratitude. "The whole ring wishes it had your confidence, pal..."

An accepting shrug rolled off North's shoulders as he raised his other hand. "I'm more concerned about having a talk with Andee."

York whistled softly. "Careful with that one, Northy. He might barely come up to your thigh but that little firecracker has got a nasty streak, I've learned..."

North snorted as he shifted his weight somewhat. "Yeah, I believe it after seeing you and Sammy that afternoon in the bar. Still wanna have a chat with the tiny asshole, treatin' Sammy like that." He grimaced for a moment. "But now...he and Andee are..."

"Yeeeep." York relaxed somewhat again, smiling faintly as he picked at his jeans. "They're also, ah..."

"Working on it?"

"Heh. Yeah." York nodded once before exhaling and gazing out at the jungle again. "We all are."

"Lord, this Movement keeps getting gayer, man," North observed dryly even as he gave a measured smile. "But I guess it also means things are starting to come together even more than before. You guys always seemed to have a sort of an arm's-length relationship with the bats...but after all that, seems they're warming up to us more."

York nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. And hell, Nelson might not be trying to do it, but Sidewinder and L-Base are working closer and closer, too."

"It helps that Sammy can't seem to stop himself making friends and butt-buddies wherever he goes," North supplied with a wink. "Between the two of you, we could have the whole ring holding hands and sucking dicks by the end of next year."

York chortled and elbowed him lightly even as he nodded again. "Me and Sammy are trying really hard to bring stuff together. It feels like we've spent too long at odds." He looked up with a wider smile before turning his gaze toward North again. "We're getting there, I think. You're right -- we're getting tighter with Sidewinder, and Sammy's helped with making the bats a little less closed off. Things are moving to a better place." He hesitated before tightening his arm around North's shoulder and meeting his eyes once more. "It'd be really nice to have you and South here permanently, too."

North exhaled. It was barely a question anymore. "Yeah." He nodded and York brightened at his expression. "I. I been thinking so, too."

"Really?"

He nodded again and took a deep breath. "Yeah, stuff at Freelancer is. Man, it's getting bad. Worse than ever before. I barely even know any of the new agents and...the Director was always a shady guy but now it's. It just feels bad, even stepping foot in there. I don't think South cares as much and...clearly Tex does her own thing, but." He shook his head and looked down for a few seconds. "I think it's time my sister and I got out. Before it's too late." North found a broader smile as he inhaled slowly again. "And I think we'll do more good here than anywhere else on the ring."

"Damn straight," York murmured, holding up his opposite fist for North to bump. "Been waiting for you to join us full time ever since the day you met Sammy when I said the same damn thing to you."

North smiled wryly. "Shoulda figured the guy who made you a fruitcake would be the one who makes you wish for more -- what was the term he used? Premium stock around here?" He grinned playfully and flexed his arm around York's shoulders, drawing out a laugh and a light kick against his shin in return. "But...all kidding aside." He cast his eyes into the dark jungle as another measured breath slipped through his nostrils. "I'm ready. And...and I wanna bring someone, too."

York perked at his side and leaned away so he could gaze more directly at his friend. "Eve?"

North smiled again. Of course he remembered. York and Samael were both good like that. "Yeah. We're supposed to be back for a new set of retrievals Wedday morning, but. I wanna head out early. Hell, maybe sometime tomorrow. Been a few days since I saw her last and. And I want to invite her out to join us."

"Ho-lee-shit, I can't believe we're finally gonna get to meet this mysterious lady that even Sammy couldn't compete with!" York jibed as he laughed and shook North's shoulders a few times. "No matter how many tales we swap about our bed-buddies, you always come back to her." North almost felt sheepish as York smiled into his eyes. "She must be as awesome as you've described."

North snorted but couldn't avoid rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly. "Aw, shaddup. But...yeah. Yeah, she is. And I want her to try and make a difference herself, because I think. I know she'd be good at it. She just needs the opportunity. She's no soldier, but..."

"We need more than just soldiers," York supplied with a firm nod. "I think it's a great idea, man." He sighed heavily, putting his hand dramatically against his chest. "Just not sure what we're gonna tell your other ninety-seven girlfriends now that you're ready to settle."

North half-grinned back at his friend. "Guess you missed your shot at chasing Sammy for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to have gay sex with Carter Goddamn Caruthers -- this prime cut's about to come off the market permanently, pal!!"

"Truly, the loss shall be immeasurable," York replied soberly while bowing his head, barely hiding the quivering smile. They both eventually broke into laughter, however, swaying together while York jabbed his finger lightly against North's breast. "Go get her, man. Don't even wait for tomorrow. The jeep you guys brought is still in the garage, ready to roll. You hit the road now, you can get to Pueblo by sunrise. Spend some extra time with your special lady before convincing her to uproot her entire life and move with you out to the middle of a squirrel-and-bat-infested jungle!"

"As long as the squirrels and bats aren't boning, it should be fine," North shot back as York guffawed.

"Yeah, the day Wash and Andee end up in bed together will be some day after the apocalypse, I'm sure!" York retorted before they both shared a laugh. "C'mon, man. You deserve it." He hopped up to his paws and offered a hand down to North, who smiled up to him and then gripped into his forearm so he could be yanked up as well. "Let's crank this rebellion up to eleven."

North grinned and wrapped his hand around York's bicep as the two leaned in automatically to bump their foreheads together. "Just like old times, then."

"Just like--"

York blinked, cut off by the hatch being flung open as a rebel poked his head up and stared around before spotting the two. "There you are, Agent North!"

York and North shared a look before they both turned toward him as North chortled. "Lord, how many times we gotta tell you guys -- just North is good."

"Um. Oh. Right." The dark-green chupa rubbed the back of his neck before clearing his throat. "Sorry! Uh, North. Wash is looking for you. He said he wants to send you out to investigate a transmission as soon as possible..."

The two friends frowned at one another as York tilted his head. "Huh." North shifted his disappointment to duty, fixing his companion with a nod before nodding and striding toward the hatch. This was their job, after all.

"Yeah, alright. We're comin'..."

York placed a hand on North's shoulder as he turned around to maneuver down the ladder. "Sorry, pal. Hopefully it'll be a quick run."

North smiled up at him. "Heh, yeah -- no big deal! She's waited this damn long, what's another day or two, right?"

"We, uh...we can't send anyone else, little buddy?"

North glanced over at York, raising a hand. "It's okay. This could be a pretty big deal!"

"Normally I wouldn't send an agent, but..." Wash shook his head and stole a look at York. North could see the guilt that passed through their little friend's features. He appreciated the fact it was there, at least. "If they're legit, then we need to button them up. Neither Nelson nor I have spoken with them and Kiden swears up and down he hasn't called for anything they've claimed to do." Wash grimaced. "He did mention that a handful of his guys were apparently getting restless, though. Didn't think they were doing enough."

"So they figured they'd attack the Space Center?" York replied with a raised eyebrow. "And they thought that would...help somehow?"

"They also appear to have cursory information about both L-Base and S-Base," Wash added while rubbing tiredly at his muzzle. "That's why we think a few of Kiden's people might have broken away to organize their own branch. Nelson was gonna send her jackass, but I told her we'd take care of it." Wash scowled and North couldn't help smiling slightly. Wash's singular animosity against Samael was still entertaining. "They aren't sanctioned by any of us currently, but the last thing this goddamn Movement needs is more reckless insurgents. I'd rather bring them in under our wing so we can give them some guidance and find out how much they actually know about the organization."

"Aww, and you don't think I'm a reckless insurgent?" North inquired, tipping a wink toward Wash.

Wash looked back at him flatly. "Look, I want to make a good impression so if they do know any details about the other bases, we can assess their strength and figure out if it would be better to bring them out to Lactan or Qoppa, or let them keep running a remote branch. They wouldn't be the first small outpost, but they're being a lot louder than the others right now." He hesitated as he looked between North and York. North wondered if Wash could tell the job had interrupted something. "I could send South, too, neither of you are due back to FHQ for two days--"

"Nah, it's all good, boss-man," North interrupted with a soft chuckle. "Love my sister but we all know if you want to make a good impression, she probably ain't the one to dispatch."

Wash shifted his weight before rubbing the back of his head. "Look, it should just be a quick trip to Stigma -- track down their exact location, spend a couple shifts with them to find out the situation and make sure they know how we need to do things, then head back. You shouldn't even be late reporting back to Headquarters."

"If some of them are from Kiden's group and they know details about the other bases..." York began.

"Yeah, then we can send a few other people out to stay longer and make sure they understand how we do things, what's safe to transmit, what isn't, all that," Wash concluded. "I just want someone competent to make the first introduction so we can get a solid idea of what they've got going on."

North grinned and crossed his arms. "Hell, why didn't you start with the flattery, Wash?? I'd already be halfway through the jungle by now."

Wash sighed but gave a faint smile. Credit where credit was due -- the little guy's confidence as leader of this branch had grown considerably since the day North and South had -- literally -- been dropped off to see the place for the first time. North still spotted that old, familiar self-consciousness, but Wash had accepted his role the best he could. North couldn't imagine him even having the strength to ask a top-ranking double-agent to consider a mission like this a year ago.

"Okay. Can you be sure to reach out once you find them, let us know if they seem capable at all? Nelson's been chomping at the bit about tightening up communication with anyone outside the main bases..." Wash turned a sour face even as he added in a grumble, "I don't think she's entirely wrong, even if I'm sure she's just being a paranoid bitch."

"Ooooh, I'm telling Sammy what you called his mama!" York sang out, earning a glower as he gave a laugh and then smiled over at North. "Should be a breeze for North, anyway, he loves meeting new people and going new places -- that's why you guys joined Freelancer, right? To see as much of Sirca as possible?"

North smiled back, a hazy memory of a drunken celebration tickling his thoughts. Felt like a lifetime ago, even if it'd only been a few years. It was still the people -- still his friends -- that made every moment of this life worth it. "That's right, pal. But yeah, you got it, Wash!" He turned to nod and offer a thumbs up to the smaller chupa. "Give you guys a holler once I establish contact. Y'know, unless the whole thing's a trap and I gotta kick a bunch of ass."

Wash tried another smile out. Man, his transformation had been a treat to observe. He'd grown more than any of the rest of them since those early days in Specials. The little guy was gonna change the world one day; wasn't just anyone who could capture York's heart, after all.

North paused to make a mental note to tease him about getting nasty with the same guy who used to shove him in lockers and throw him through the windows of the women's changing room. It'd be a nice way to relax after the job.

"Oh wait!" Wash and North blinked and turned toward York, who had both his arms raised excitedly. "What if it is a trap?"

Wash frowned. "I mean...I'm sure if it is, North will--"

"North is going on a solo mission..." York interrupted with a gleeful expression. "That could be a trap..." The other two shared a confused look. "Near Lake Highguard..."

North wrinkled his muzzle before suddenly widening his eyes as York grinned instantly. "I'll see if Sammy's working the area, he can steal a car again, come help out and then finally give Northy the full welcome-to-sex-with-dudes package!!"

North burst into laughter and shook his head as Wash groaned and slapped a hand over his face. "God, you're so gay," North teased while York danced from paw to paw. "I'm gonna go pack for the job while you keep regretting your missed opportunity, buddy." He quirked another smile to Wash, who looked torn between wanting to strangle York and still harboring a sliver of regret for sending a Freelancer on such a small mission. "Talk to you fellas soon -- don't worry, boss, I'll be in and out before ya know it!"

"Oh, sweet, you are here."

South looked up from the bullets she was meticulously crafting at her desk. "Yeah? Where the hell else would I be, the skinny bastard doesn't have any jobs for us, not sure why we even bothered coming out this time."

"Because...because this is home." She looked up sharply and North smiled while moving into her room and then sitting on the edge of her bed. "Don't give me that look, sis. You can't tell me you feel any real connection to HQ...not like this place."

"You wanna know what connection we got to HQ? That's where our fuckin' paychecks come from," South muttered as she turned her eyes back to her work. "I don't wanna fuckin' do this forever, North, and I sure as shit don't want to be flat-broke when we're done with this shit."

North smiled again even as he rubbed his hands together and leaned forward a bit. He didn't speak at first, silently watching her fill another casing with gunpowder until she sighed and glared over at him. "What fuckin' speech do you have prepared this time? That 'money doesn't matter', that being part of the cause is worth more than a deposit? That if we do the impossible and stop the war, we won't need our jobs?"

He laughed quietly. "No need. I'd say you've got all my greatest hits memorized." She snorted and slowly turned her eyes back to the next bullet in line. "And I'm actually about to head out on a mission for Wash now."

"Good for you," she muttered while pushing the head of the round into place, then clamping it together with the press before setting it with the others. "Is this finally the one that's gonna change the tide, turn things around, let us overthrow God so we can join hands in a field and dance 'til the fuckin' cows come home?"

He would always love her wit. He couldn't help another laugh as he propped his head up on a thigh, waiting for her to scowl over at him before he replied: "Maybe. Although you know we don't have to win the war to do that -- we're free to go hold hands and dance in a field whenever we feel like it. That's one of the sweet, sweet perks of being a heretic."

She snorted, fingers hesitating a few inches from the next empty casing. She turned her eyes toward him, blue diving inquisitively into blue as they shared a moment that only siblings could share. Wasn't quite the same as York or Samael -- this went deeper, more intimate. Something only blood knew how to translate. The way her features hardened told him she could still read him just fine. "What stupid thing do you have in that pea-brain tonight, Carter?"

He smiled but didn't tease, instead enjoying the flood of childhood memories. "I..." He looked down at his hands as more recent memories flicked past, Evelyn's hopeful gaze through the window offering just the right prod. "I want to leave."

South understood even if she scoffed and hastily poured another measure of powder into the shell. "You don't need to check in with me before every goddamn mission. Go get it done so we aren't late heading back to Qoppa."

The way her eyes flicked back to him brought a faint smile to his maw. "You know what I mean."

She paused with a hand on the lever of the press, staring into the wall for a few moments before she slammed the handle down. "Enlighten me anyway."

She flicked the bullet aside and reached to prepare the next as North folded his hands calmly between his thighs. He knew his family too well to be intimidated. "We're doing so much good here," he began, ignoring the second, more disgusted snort. "Things are really starting to come together. The people are starting to come together."

"Just makes it easier for a raid to kill 'em all at once," South noted icily. Her eyes were closed, however, as gunpowder spilled over her fingers mid-pour. She grit her teeth and set aside the measuring tube so she could open her eyes and then look squarely at North. "The same fucking question from a year ago applies. Why? We've helped our 'friends', they've got their whole little rebellion thing going on, we don't owe them shit."

North reached out to grasp gently into her arm and she flinched. "Doesn't it mean something to be proud of what you do? Are you actually proud of the shit he has us doing these days?" She opened her muzzle and he overrode her quietly. "No matter what we get paid. Is money really worth losing who we are? I know all you care about is the job." She snarled and stood up but he was on his feet instantly with her, the two staring at one another. "And you care about me. I get that. You're my kin, too, Madison, but I've spent so goddamn long watching this fucking job drain you of everything that makes you my sister. The girl I grew up with is--"

"Dead, Carter. Because she wasn't strong enough for this world. I am."

His shoulders fell slightly but he kept his hand wrapped around her arm. "You are. You're stronger than us both now." She snorted and looked aside, though he knew she was all too aware he wasn't referring to scores or leaderboards. "But you wouldn't have to be if you'd let other people help. If you'd let me, let our friends help."

"If you want to go full fucking heretic, that's your call," she spat out. "I'm not gonna fucking go down with you."

He twitched, her words searing him the way only his sister's could. But he refused to back down as he took a deep breath. "You know we're already screwed. In fact, we're more screwed thanks to the fact we're working both sides. You know what they'll do to us if they catch us." She snarled and tried to wrench her arm free, but he kept his grip secure.

"Let me fucking remind you we're only screwed because this was your fucking idea from the start!" she growled as she grabbed his wrist with her other hand and then twisted violently to force him to release her. "We're finally at the top, North! We're there because everyone else is too fucking weak to make it, but we did! We did!"

"And we can do this, too," he murmured, lowering his arm as his entire body slumped. "We can leave all that shit behind. You never used to care about winning." She bared her teeth and took a step toward him, every limb tensed and tail standing straight behind her, but he only looked at her softly. "You only cared about sticking together."

She flinched once more and then looked away again as her tail slowly lowered. "I. I still do. But don't do this to me, Carter. After everything we've gone through, after all the shit we did to get here...you want me to turn my back on it and give it all up? For a chance to be a fucking nameless corpse in the mass grave of this failed fucking rebellion?"

"Wouldn't it be nice to have someone other than me care about you?" Her eyes flicked coldly back to him, but he met her only with a pleading gaze. "I know you and I have been all we needed to get through life, but god, don't you want more than that? Tell me who the hell cares about you inside those walls? Do you even know any of the other agents' names anymore? The Director, the Counselor...have they treated us as anything but tools? Expendable weapons they can use to play whatever games they're using us for?"

He took a step closer to her and she grit her teeth, bringing her eyes back to his as he continued. "It's different here. And you know it is. Our friends are here, the people who care if we live or die are here. And you know what? If we're going to die anyway, then I don't want it to be for nothing. I want it to be making a difference, I want someone to care, to know my death mattered. To know someone's going to give a damn about me after I'm gone and not just...be mad at the ring."

He didn't need to clarify. She knew herself well enough. She stared at him for several long seconds and then at last sighed and turned away. He reached up and dropped a hand on her shoulder, and this time she placed her own atop his. The world crawled to a muted halt around them as he held his breath.

Her voice at last broke the silence."Where you go, I go."

"And where you run, I run, too," he murmured before they shared another look and then stepped apart.

She shook her head slowly and let out a ragged sigh. "I'm getting really tired of shitty decisions."

"As long as we make them together, it'll always turn out okay," he replied with a small smile.

She gave him a long look and then waved a hand. "Look, just. Go do whatever stupid errand Wash is sending you on. We'll talk afterward and...figure out what the fuck we're doing when we go back."

He didn't mention Evelyn. No need to add fuel to the dying embers of South's rage. He instead nodded and chuckled before heading for the door. "You got it. Thanks, sis."

She gave a noncommittal grunt as he stepped out, then paused in the doorway. She glanced up curiously and he smiled at her. "Love you, Maddy."

She looked at him drolly. "Now I know you let that midget suck your dick." He huffed and she smiled slightly before sitting back down and starting on her next bullet. "Love you too, Carter."

North brushed his damp mane back while exhaling and slowing to a jog, a small smile drifting across his muzzle as he cast his eyes around the landscape. He wasn't necessarily trying to waste so much goddamn time tracking down the hideout...but lord, if the sight of the sun cresting the distant rim wasn't absolutely gorgeous from his spot atop Highguard, a vision worthy of a few extra hours spent searching for potential rebels.

Pink, purple and red stained the rolling bluffs around him, splashing warm color onto the crumbling rock beneath his paws. A thick haze coated the lake below the ridge, but the crystalline waters still glimmered, just visible through the pale mist. Yeah...he could see now why York's moment with Samael had been so memorable. Certainly worse places to seal the deal on your new, bisexual future.

None of his jobs with Freelancer had brought him to the cliffs above Highguard -- he'd flown over them, he'd run missions in Wortistan, Blarganthia and Stigma near enough to smell the heavy moisture from the freshwater basin. Always smelled like the fields after irrigation cycles. But he'd never stood at Highguard's shores -- or above them -- and he murmured a note of gratitude for his heresy.

He'd seen lots of Sirca through Freelancer, dug his toes into soil around the whole damn ring...but he was ready to see the rest from a new perspective. One where the decisions he made mattered, and the things he did made a difference. One where the paranoia of an attack could be shared with friends, rather than something he had to fear every time he set foot through Freelancer's front doors.

He took a moment longer to feel the first beams of sunlight stretch out to him, running their warm fingers through his hide as he smiled once more. He looked forward to mornings like this, to tender claws buried in his fur to remind him that everything he'd done had served a purpose, whether just or not. As long as it built the bridge to a better future, then all could be accepted.

A blue flash caught his attention and he tilted his head a bit to gaze at the waters lapping against the cliffs below. It took another moment of searching, but he eventually spotted it -- a motorboat, tied to a makeshift dock crafted along a small outcropping of moss-strewn boulders. His eyes continued to sweep the rocky shoreline and soon identified two or three more watercraft, hidden beneath tarps and azure-shaded camouflage. This looked promising.

He briefly contemplated scaling down the cliff, but he wasn't prepared with the right equipment. He hadn't originally planned on ascending to the peaks of the ridges around the lake -- it had just sort of happened as he roamed the countryside, asking the sparse locals for any hints and tracing down signs of organized rebellion. The clues weren't that hard to look for, since Wash hadn't been kidding about the group's apparent inexperience. Though at this point North was fairly certain it wasn't a trap. The ruse would have been a bit over-the-top, even for the House.

His climbing gear was back in the jeep, a good three-or-four-hour walk from his current location. North sort of had a tendency to follow his instincts when on the hunt, which unfortunately in turn had a tendency to send him on hikes that left him rarely near where he'd started.

He frowned in thought at the lake for a second or two longer before shrugging and instead beginning a safer descent on the other side of the ridge. It was quite nearly a sheer drop on the lakeside, but the bluffs that rose up from Stigma's dry prairies were far friendlier for naked paws and a woeful dearth of pitons and rope. He figured their shelter most likely passed entirely through the protective shell of the natural structure, meaning -- for lack of a better term -- there was probably a front door.

Or something close to one.

He tightened the pack around his shoulders as his large paws slid and hopped down along the smooth stone, occasionally kicking up a plume of dust and sending a barrage of small pebbles ahead of him. He grinned to himself, idly wishing for one of his friends to be with him -- it'd be just the kind of stupid thing York, Ohio, Tex or even Sammy would whoop and make a game of, adding just the perfect amount of unnecessary risk to an otherwise routine traversal.

He leaped when he was near the bottom, thrusting himself into the air with a grunt as his enormous body hung in the early sunlight for a moment or two before slamming into the dry grasses with a thump! He chuckled and brushed his legs off before adjusting his shoulder straps and then turning around to skim the base of the bluffs. The search would probably have to continue for awhile, even if he'd descended somewhat relative to the position of the boats on the other side -- these rocky hills were dotted with dark nooks and crevasses, any of which could be hiding an impromptu barrier or door. He figured he'd need to poke his head into each one before -- oh.

He blinked a few times when his eyes lit upon a thin silver glint fifty or sixty yards from where he'd reached the foot of the bluffs. He guessed it was a radio antenna, fastened to the outside of what he hoped was their entrance. Wasn't exactly the most subtle placement...but they were also a good two hours from the nearest settlement. Neither soldier nor House operative would have much reason to pass anywhere near this spot with any kind of regularity.

A slow shrug rolled off his shoulders as he reached back to pluck the radio from his bag. He dug out his portable RPS as well while keying the microphone, his eyes flicking to the coordinates. "Longhorn to Q-Two. Think I'm approaching the target. Please put a big ol' X down for my current location -- sending the numbers through Protocol Three." He took a moment to mentally calculate the algorithm before spitting out the encrypted coordinates as his eyes scanned the various dips and insets of the sloped surface.

"...Alright, Longhorn. We've got your position marked. W requests an update as soon as you've made contact."

North half-smiled. "Figured. Let 'im know I'll reach out shortly either way." He tucked the radio back into place before his eyes focused on a deep crevice that he saw the antenna wire snaking into. "Well...let's see if anyone's home..."

A large pistol appeared in his hand as he approached, caution and years of training insisting on expecting the worst. A few steps closer allowed him to spot a doorway hidden in the shadows of the deep outcropping. "Bingo..."

He paused to the side of the doorway while examining it. It appeared to be reinforced metal -- at least it would take an attacking force a little bit longer to bust through, he figured. His eyes jumped to the hillside again. He could now see several crude windows that had been carved into the rocks, mostly hidden thanks to the natural shadows of the crags and boulders that jutted from the rocky incline. The architecture of this hideout was intriguing; he couldn't tell whether this was some cavern that had been modified into a base like Sidewinder, or if someone had intentionally built the structure with the notion of having some private hideaway. Crazy hermits who lived on the fringes had to be a thing, right?

Like Samael's people, but even weirder.

He chuckled under his breath before pausing as a flicker of motion from one of the gaps in the rocks caught his gaze. A lookout, perhaps? No shots fired yet, at least. North pointed the tip of his handgun downward and reached out to knock firmly at the door. The thud that resounded from within the space was booming -- whatever this place was, it didn't sound small by any means. He opened his muzzle to offer one of the Movement's standard coded greetings...before blinking in shock as he heard several locks undone a moment before the door swung open.

Instinct drove him to yank the pistol into position and his pistol's gaping barrel elicited a yelp from the lavender chupa as they threw their hands up with widened eyes. "Holy crap!! Don't shoot!"

"Did you say shoot?!?" someone shouted frantically from within before a dark-red chupa stumbled up next to the first figure with an oversized pistol clutched in both hands. He was more decidedly a male, and his eyes were bulging even further as he swung his weapon wildly toward North.

The Freelancer grimaced and acted swiftly, his free arm shooting out to snag the other male's pistol and yank it safely out of his grip before he took a step back and quickly raised both handguns to point upward, holding them loosely as he gave a skeptical look between the two staring...well, he supposed they had to be rebels, right? "Whoa, whoa, whoa -- everyone chill," he ordered, his eyes flicking to the unexpectedly well-lit chamber behind the two in the doorway. "Christ, you folks tryin' to get ghosted?"

"You're freaking huge!" the light-purple chupa blurted as their shocked expression shifted into an eager grin. North blinked again and tilted his head slightly, studying the delighted rebel with a discerning expression. They whipped their head around to address whoever else was in the room behind them. "Guys, come check out the guy they sent! He's hot as hell!!"

"Yeah he is! But gimme my gun back!" the crimson chupa demanded as he thrust an arm toward North and earned an incredulous look as the Freelancer took a step backward.

...These guys were something else. The question felt silly, though North felt compelled to ask all the same. "You...you're the. New resistance group...right?"

"Yeah! We're the new face of the rebellion!" the purple one announced with a puff of their chest. "We got a call that one of the other branches was sending someone..." They grinned toothily again. "Didn't mention they were sending such a hunk, though!"

North smiled awkwardly, pushing aside the queasy sensation. He thought this one was also a male...but even if they weren't, something about their behavior was a bit unsettling. God, maybe he had been spoiled after all the exposure to York and Samael's far-less-offensive teasing.

He still felt a little guilty. Last thing he wanted was to be inconsiderate considering all the damn personal growth he'd done with his friends.

"Yeah...hey, uh." North frowned between them again before checking the safety on the confiscated pistol and handing it back by the barrel. Its owner snatched it away with a huff, drawing another twitch from North as his eyes remained on it until it was tucked away into a waistband. "So I guess the first lesson is don't ever assume someone is on your side, even if you're expecting them." He looked between the two as they stared back, only vaguely seeming to comprehend. "Actually, especially if you're expecting them. Even encrypted transmissions can be partially intercepted, so it's important to use the confirmation codes whenever you're meeting a contact in-person. For all you know, it could--"

"Psshhh, c'mon, we knew you were the guy!" Purple interrupted with a wink. "Deadeye spotted you from one of the windows. As soon as we heard him describe a huge dude with a gun, we knew you were with the Moment!"

North looked down at him blankly for a second or two before uttering slowly: "Movement?"

"Yeah! The Movement!"

"Yeah...you guys really still need to remember that a lot of, uh..." He rubbed the back of his head. Geezus, did he need to dumb things down? It was rare he felt like the smart guy in the room. "A lot of bad guys might...also be huge dudes with guns. So..."

"Naaaah, we had a feeling! Now hurry up, bring that sexy ass inside so you can meet everyone!" Purple reached out for his wrist and North shifted just out of reach with a frown before forcing another polite smile while holstering his pistol.

"Yeah...good idea. Let's get inside," he muttered with a glance over his shoulder as he scanned the barren badlands. Lord, Wash was gonna owe him big after this one.

Purple and Red shuffled inside, both of them still eyeing him vociferously. Suddenly he wished York and Samael hadn't been so damn convincing with their shirtless campaign. Even with the Stigma morning temperatures rapidly rising, it would probably be less uncomfortable covering up his chest than dealing with all the ogling. It wasn't soft or entertaining like his friends'...it was just plain hungry.

He frowned again when they scampered away without closing the door, though he supposed they maybe just assumed he'd get it, being the last one in. Had to remember these folks were new to the whole rebel thing, even if a few were apparently from Kiden's branch. And then again, Kiden might have been a loud, brash asshole...but he was also rarely quick to label his people with the same qualifications or expectations of Nelson's or Wash's. They just didn't have the same kind of role to fulfill, which was what made the branches of the Movement work the way they did. Sirca didn't need an abundance of insane, suicidal fighters -- that wasn't the only part to play in this resistance.

Now he was starting to understand why Wash and Nelson were concerned about these guys being left alone for too long.

North secured each of the locks on the door before turning around and then flinching again as four of the new faces now stared eagerly up at him. "Christ," he muttered before he could help himself, pressing against the door with an uneasy smile. "Uh. Hey."

His eyes skimmed the room quickly. He hadn't been mistaken, it was far larger than he expected. It wasn't just a cavern, either. The floors were still stone, but had been smoothed, and most of the walls were also squared off and covered with sanded planks of...was that cedar? He lifted an eyebrow slightly, more impressed than he wanted to admit. This wasn't some crappy makeshift hideout, this looked like a legitimate home. "Wow."

"You like the place?" Purple asked as he grinned broadly again. "When Chad and I left Omegrad to help with the real fight, we looked for a place near Highguard -- you know, for the water access?"

North had to hide his surprise. An unexpectedly resourceful decision. "And...you guys made this..." He paused as he looked around with a low whistle. He saw two doorways leading to other rooms and a stairway carved out of the stone that headed up to what he assumed were the elevated windows he'd spotted on the way in. "Christ, looks like someone's house."

"That's because it was!" another of the rebels boasted with a grunt. North glanced over at the pale blue chupa before blinking again. This one was considerably overweight. Not that North had anything against that, just...in this line of work...ah. Perhaps he was a recent recruit. "Some dirty old man was living here. We told him the rebellion was taking over and he needed to get his ass out to make room for us!"

North worked his muzzle for a moment. "You...you guys kicked...ugh." He rubbed at his face slowly and took a deep breath. He had to remind himself they were earnest, was all. This was why they needed some direction. "Alright, alright, so. Before we take a tour of your, erm. Base--"

"Headquarters!" Purple interrupted with a thumbs up. "The new Movement HQ!"

North couldn't help the flat look. "No offense, guys, but...we kind of already have an HQ. In fact, we have...two. Two and a half." Stupid Q-Base.

"Oh yeah...that weird guy on the radio didn't tell us where they were," Red complained as he waved his arms around wildly. "How the fuck are we supposed to work with you guys if we don't know where you are??"

For good goddamn reason. North forced another small smile and picked carefully through his words. "We try not to give away too much about each location. It's important to maintain as much secrecy and blind knowledge as possible to keep everyone safe."

"Yeah, well, Kiden wouldn't tell us shit, that's why we decided to start our own group! We've already got missions planned for the Space Center and Red Army HQ!" Purple announced with a confident nod, his messy, straw-colored mane bouncing with his energetic motions.

North exhaled and lifted a hand. "Let's...let's start with, ah. Introductions before we plan our ring-wide domination plan, eh?"

Purple huffed but crossed his arms with a cocky grin, whipping his hips to one side in what was likely meant to be a flirtatious gesture. Kind of awkward when North's two best friends did it so much better that he actually noticed how poorly someone else executed it. "I'm Jesse Panthera! Just call me Jesse!"

Red opened his muzzle to speak but Jesse, apparently, shoved a finger at him with a laugh. "We call him Tic." He waited a beat for North to look confused before explaining smugly: "It's short for 'Spastic'."

Tic, also apparently, pursed his lips but then shrugged as he bounced from one paw to the other. "My real name is Mike Azura. I left the Red Army! Also my abusive dad, fuck him! And now I'm free to be who I really am!"

He went in for a hug and North quickly planted a hand on his forehead out of instinct, staring down and pushing him slowly back. "Uh. Sorry, no. Let's. Let's not do that."

"But you're our hero!" Jesse gushed before putting his hands on his hips. "As a leader of the Movement, I say everyone owes you a hug for showing up to join us!"

"Whoa, not...not joining, just. Helping," North replied hurriedly as he rubbed a hand through his mane and tried to wrap his head around how the hell they were all still alive. How dare he even have a fleeting thought that anything they'd done had been 'resourceful'. "And as someone who is trained to methodically dismember anyone who surprises me with unexpected physical contact, I say no hugs, please."

"Whoooa, that is so badass!" Tic breathed out before licking his lips and squirming closer all the same. North grimaced but very purposefully moved his attention to the chubby one.

"I'm Forrest Darkson!"

...North legitimately wasn't sure if it was a real name or another 'code' name.

Forrest crossed his arms with a sniff. "I left the stupid Blues. I'm a medic, though I'm pretty shitty at it. But anything's better than fighting with those homophobic assholes!"

Oh boy, now North was going to have to watch his jokes. He gave a careful smile and nod before the fourth chupa grunted and whipped out a switchblade to run his tongue along, then brush against his vest. North tried his best not to laugh. "Call me Blade. I was with a hoop over in Honkal...me and my buddy were both out that way, but then those assholes from the Hula Club fucked us up! Killed our boss and most everyone else in an ambush...so we're here to get revenge on them, too!"

North frowned for a second or two. Hadn't someone been talking recently about something Sammy had been working on with Andee regarding the Sovs? Eh. North wasn't a huge fan of dealing with the hoops, even if both Nelson and Wash seemed pretty hellbent on making it a part of their operations. He trusted folks like York and Samael with that crowd more than himself -- those two were schmoozers, after all. North usually got too fed up with the hoopsters' slick-talking bullcrap to wait for the end of a negotiation before he started throwing punches.

"So which army did you quit?" Forrest inquired while shamelessly drawing his eyes along North's bare chest. Valhalla above, he was really wishing for that goddamn shirt, now.

"Right." North cleared his throat before crossing his arms. "I'm Agent North. I'm working as a double agent at Freelancer, so I've got a lot of experience on what it takes to stay alive out here. And so I've been sent out to help you--"

"Holy shit, you're a real-life Freelancer?!?" Tic blurted out. "That's fuckin' awesome! Guys, we've got a real Freelancer joining us!"

"I'm not joining...oh lord..."

By now a few others had filtered into the room to stare, awestruck, at the newcomer. Most of them looked about average-sized, and a majority of them in some variety of decent physical shape with the exception of the medic. Some were polite, others more reserved. But most of them were boisterous...and North figured he now understood how they'd ended up banding together. He was starting to guess the quieter ones were here by accident or circumstance more than anything else.

The aforementioned Deadeye never put down his polished long-range rifle as he introduced himself, parading around the room with it held to his chest while pausing in front of each window to peer through his scope like it was the only damn thing he was good for. North also met Danny Patrick -- one of the few who stood nearly as tall as he did, with a mane that was obsessively coiffed into a slick mullet. North didn't think he'd ever have reason to call York's mane unkempt, but compared to the amount of product this guy had in his, York looked like a goddamn bum. North didn't want to imagine how much time Danny spent every day on that. He wore a long coat and claimed to be both a prolific sharpshooter and talented martial artist. Apparently he was invited to join Freelancer but had declined because he didn't "like how they did things".

North kept his comments to himself.

A few of the rebels who made their awkward, quiet introductions after the others seemed a little less bombastic, at least. Charlene had come with Deadeye -- apparently his real name was Johnson -- when he'd insisted they were going to die if they stayed with their previous unit. She was soft-spoken but North figured she'd make for a good operator, since her presence was a lot, ah. Calmer than most of the others. He made a mental note to ask her how familiar she was with encrypted transmissions when they had a moment.

David Sparrow also introduced himself -- he was another deserter from the Red Army, though he seemed less fanatical than his other ex-Army cohorts. The soft-spoken rebel had a cheap wooden leg from the knee down on one side; North recognized the usual 'compensation' from the army given to any wounded soldier who volunteered to keep fighting after a tragic injury. Enough to keep you on the battlefield, not good enough to make you any less goddamn expendable.

As the others he'd met began to whisper excitedly in their own little circles about him, North did his best to maintain his conversation with Sparrow. The guy at least seemed to have more sense than most of the others, and he didn't make North feel like a slab of meat on display. Already an improvement, as far as he was concerned. His rundown of the situation was a lot more concise and helpful than even the so-called leader's, too.

"So twenty of you right now?"

"Yeah..." Sparrow nodded toward one of the back rooms North hadn't yet seen on his impromptu tour. "Banks and Travis are asleep, they were over on the other side of Highguard late last night trying to secure some supplies from a contact in Wortistan. Otherwise I think you've met just about everyone else." He rubbed his fingers through a messy black mane, pushing his bangs back from violet eyes that were gentle but held the memories of war with a greater intensity than the others. "Uh...I'm. Er. We're glad you're here, Agent North, sir."

North smiled a bit, doing his best to ignore the leer he felt from Jesse across the room. "Please. Just North. But...yeah, man." He scratched at his muzzle, adding in a low voice: "No offense, but. Seems like you guys need it. You, uh. You all have the right...spirit, but --"

"We're kind of disorganized," Sparrow offered before grumbling and looking guilty for a moment. "The guys mean well. They really want to make a difference, I think. They're just, uh. Anxious to start making that difference. Names in the papers, wanted posters and all that. They're...er. They're brave, not scared of the risk."

North didn't need to dig hard to detect the hesitation. "There's a real fine line between 'brave' and 'reckless'," North muttered before nodding and pulling out a smile. "Like I said. You guys have, uh. The motivation. You just need some...direction. And maybe some gentle reminders you aren't the only ones fighting this battle. There's nothing wrong with being ready to die for the cause, but...kinda silly if every other branch gets exposed and suffers fallout because someone made a mistake."

Sparrow's eyes betrayed a note of hope. "Those...other branches? Do you guys, uh...ever do. You know...transfers or. Exchanges?"

North smiled a bit. This one might be worth bringing back, even if he knew the more responsible thing would be to keep him here so he could maybe gently take over the leadership role. "Ehhh. Not quite what you're thinking but. Also exactly what you're thinking. If I think I know what you're thinking." He met Sparrow's eyes, who gave a sheepish smile back and nodded once. "But alright. This space is...pretty good, if I'm being honest. Even if, uh. Kicking the owner out was a little..."

"Y-yeaaah, a few of us were against it, but." Sparrow rubbed at his arm. North grunted and squeezed his shoulder lightly.

"All good, man. Stuff happens, let's move past it. You guys got room for at least ten, fifteen more, so --"

"Oooh, a full paaaarty!" Jesse sang out as North grimaced and winced automatically away from the muzzle hovering suddenly near the side of his head. "I was just thinking the same thing!"

"Uh...you guys seriously don't need to worry about that right now," North began as he raised a finger. "Let's focus on getting who's already here more established with the ins and outs of--"

"Hey, man, it's all good! We've got a Freelancer!" Jesse exclaimed. North sighed again and opened his muzzle to correct him for the umpteenth time, but he'd already bounded off to whisper something excitedly to one of the others who'd left Kiden's camp. The Freelancer shook his head, then turned his attention back to Sparrow as the rebel gave him a lame smile.

"Like you said, they're...spirited," Sparrow mumbled.

He perked up as his eyes flit past North, and the massive chupa turned to see Charlene approaching them. Now if he could just get these two moved up the hierarchy, this wild little band of 'spirited' rebels might be worth a bit more trust. "Charlene! I wanted to ask you earlier, didn't get the chance." She looked nervous and stood next to Sparrow, who cleared his throat and then put a friendly -- albeit adorably awkward -- arm around her shoulders. "What kind of experience do you have with radios?"

She blinked and then gave a cautious but more confident smile. "Well...I was the one who set up the equipment we have so far...my latest tweaks to the antenna were what allowed us to reach you guys on the air!"

North brightened. "Oh, hell yeah! I was just thinking you'd be perfect behind the microphone. You've got a good head on your shoulders and you're a lot, uh. More collected than some of the other guys."

She smiled hesitantly again before rubbing at her throat. "Yeah, maybe. But uh...well, Tic, he...he kind of got assigned to the radio after he asked Jesse, so..."

North tried to hold in his frown. He didn't need to go stepping on any toes. Not yet, at least. "Ah. Well. I mean, it'd be good if, er. Multiple people knew what they were doing." He chuckled and then stood up while brushing off his pants and glancing at both of them. "Hey, how 'bout the two of you show me the radio setup, and then we'll check out the boats. You said you got a total of three, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Sparrow replied with a brighter smile as Charlene nodded at his side. "We're working on getting a new hog, too, the last one got, uh..."

"Broken," Charlene supplied, scowling a bit as some of her truer nature shone through. It made North smile. "I told them it wouldn't make that jump." She shook her head before glancing up at North. "Come on, though, I'll show you the comms stuff."

North followed the two, doing his best to keep a bubble around himself and everyone else they passed. Lord, he was no prude but half the occupants of this place seemed primed with fuses that had been yanked straight out of a pubescent teenager experiencing their first ruff. He got there were a lot of reasons to join the resistance, but not even Samael seemed as hellbent on making the whole Movement a full-time gay orgy. All the fun of a teasing wink was lost when you did it every twenty seconds.

His earlier tour of the semi-subterranean base had been fruitful, at least. He'd been shown most of the rooms and had a basic idea of the layout. It really had been some eccentric guy's tucked-away retirement home, safe from the ravages of Sirca's Holy War. It had just been genuinely bad luck for the dude that these, ah. Eager rebels stumbled upon it. But what was done was done, and it did make for some sweet digs. The living quarters had been expanded -- the additional spaces weren't nearly as well-furnished, lacking all the trimmings of polished, sanded wood, but they were functional enough. It certainly wasn't a bad start for what had been only a week or so of occupancy.

It was also fairly defensible, thanks to the fact it was built right into the bluffs. North wasn't sure how he felt about all the windows, even if they were tucked into the natural folds of the rock, since he figured that maybe it was camouflaged well when you were right under it...but from a distance, he was willing to bet the sun caught the glare of the glass for a good part of its ascension through the morning skies. Wouldn't be terribly hard to spot if you were looking. Maybe worth having them consider removing the windows and giving up on the luxury of natural light in exchange for better discretion.

They were also quite proud of their back door into Highguard, but North knew by now that numerous entrances were great for having alternate escape routes...but also for giving an aggressor multiple ways of pincering you. Some basic lessons on guerrilla tactics would go a long way for these folks. North figured if he focused on reminding them that a feeling of security didn't mean shit in the face of House anti-rebel forces, they'd get the idea without needing to be cowed by details of what had happened to Nelson and her people in the first Qoppa base. He wanted them to be only scared enough to stop acting invincible, not to start wetting themselves and running in terror.

...Even if that might still be a tactic worth revisiting to weed out some of the, er. Less ideal specimens milling about the resistance base.

"So I've been trying to find a good lead for getting better encryption hardware for the radio, but..."

North was pulled from his thoughts by Charlene trailing off and he immediately smiled to slip in some reassurance. "Oh, we can maybe help with that, or at least point you guys to some contacts."

She seemed distracted, however, as she frowned when they came into the impromptu radio room.

"--real deal! He's got the dog tags and everything! You guys gotta get out here!" Jesse exclaimed into the microphone.

North couldn't avoid the sour expression as Charlene sighed loudly and crossed her arms. "You guys! Didn't he just say an hour ago that we shouldn't be focused on getting more people out here?"

Jesse grinned and waved her off. "Don't worry, Leney! These guys said they can steal a bunch of radio parts before they head this way, get you all that crap you've been talking about!"

Sparrow stepped up next to Charlene with a grimace. "Can you please not tell everyone that there's a Freelancer here? Seriously, North's right, we need to secure this place more before we invite more people."

Jesse scowled and crossed his arms while tossing his bangs out of his eyes. "Listen, I was a big part of Kiden's recruitment team. I know all about how important it is to bring more people in, we need the bodies!" He waggled his eyebrows at North. "And who wouldn't show up once they hear about the body we've got now!?"

"Ugh." North shook his head before replying mildly: "Doesn't change the fact that transmitting on open frequencies means some bored farmer listening in is gonna start getting the wrong kinda curious." Geezus, he hated to sound as paranoid as Nelson or Wash, but these guys were reminding him that not every rebel had spec ops training...and in those exceptions, not everyone was a Samael or a Vincent, either, with the benefit of alternative experience. Some people were truly just...green.

"Hey, just because we didn't go to Freelancer doesn't mean we don't know what we're doing!" Forrest insisted. "We've been developing our own code, you know!"

North leveled a dour look at him. "That's...good, but. We already have established code, and you still don't want to send--"

"Oh, shit, you haven't seen the boats yet!" Tic suddenly interrupted with a gleeful expression. "You gotta check it out, we can take you on a cruise to show you another spot we're looking at turning into a second outpost!"

North rubbed at his temple, wondering if this was how Wash felt every time York or Samael burst into his office with a new 'idea'. He was beginning to empathize with the man like never before. He released part of the tired sigh and then looked over to Charlene. Maybe he could step on a few toes if only to try and start beating them into shape a little faster. "Good lord, you guys don't need to worry about a second location quite yet. But tell you what -- I was talking to Charlene and she has some good experience with communications from her old Army post--"

"I once took apart a radio and put it back together when I was like eight," Tic interjected proudly. "That's why I'm the radio guy!"

North ground his teeth slowly but gave a gentile smile. "I think you're much more suited to put those skills to use on the boats -- you'll want good radios in them, too. How about we let Charlene get to work hunting down some improvements to your comms while you guys show me the dock?"

Jesse brightened as Tic and Forrest glanced at each other and then grinned as well. "Oh yeah!" Jesse exclaimed before tipping a loathsome wink. "We can show you the big one...it has beds inside!"

North muttered a few choice words under his breath but offered a weak smile while glancing at Charlene and Sparrow. Even if this turned into a babysitting trip, he could at least try and set the stronger ones up to start taking control of the more vital aspects. Get the branch in a better place while Wash and Nelson debated on who to send out for a longer visit...because North sure as hell didn't want to be here any longer than necessary. "Sparrow, do you mind working with Charlene and putting together an inventory of what equipment you guys have on hand, and what you need to start hardening communications and this place's defenses?"

"Oh, I've got some hardening I can show you, too," Jesse interrupted with a grin as Tic and Forrest both nodded with matching smirks.

"You make one more pass at me and I'll break your goddamn arm," North shot back flatly, which very swiftly threw an awkward pallor over the three. He shook his head and then looked back at Sparrow, who offered a rather delighted smile. Well, at least some of these rebels wouldn't mind if he started shutting this nonsense down. There was a time to play but there was a time to work, too. "Now let's go take a look at your damn boats, already."

At least this would be one helluva story for his friends...and he could also take some solace in the fact that he could be sure Evelyn wasn't going to end up joining this particular iteration of the resistance.

She was way too cool for these nerds.

"Alright, we know one is in Lactan, but where?? And 'Sidewinder' isn't a place on any maps we have...so where is that one??"

North regarded Jesse with an exhausted look. Normally he'd laugh about Sidewinder -- it the fact it'd been named as such because Ashley was making a joke at Nelson's expense never failed to amuse. But christ, these new rebels were anything but entertaining. And North sure as hell didn't trust them with their other locations yet, either. "Trust me, guys -- the less you know, the better. We're a long way from collaborating. I'm serious, you all need to get your shit together before you even think of that, because there's too much at stake to risk exposing all our branches because someone makes a mistake, or gets caught and interrogated."

Jesse scowled horribly. "That's some bullshit! I'm a Movement leader now, so I should be sitting down with Kiden and whoever those other guys are to discuss our plans! We need more resources to do the Space Center mission!"

"Yeah!" One of the ex-hoopsters glared up at North. "We heard the Sovs were working with some of the Movement people...if they can meet them, so should our leader!"

North reminded himself to tell Samael later about the hilarious mental image he conjured up of Nelson meeting Jesse. The 'new Movement leader' would probably need his own wheelchair to leave in afterward. But his amusement was overridden by the annoyed grimace he found on his features. "And that's another thing -- guys, no offense, but busting into the Space Center to look for 'secret laser weapons' is...it's kind of stupid."

"It's not stupid! Bullets don't work in space, so they must have laser guns there to take up to Nerom!" Tic insisted.

Forrest raised a finger and adjusted his glasses. "Actually, bullets do work in a vacuum...but the propulsion would make them impractical. Though a laser weapon wouldn't have recoil, so it would make sense that they would have--"

"Whoa, whoa...target spotted! Target spotted!!"

North immediately reached for his pistol as instincts took over, shouldering past Jesse to move into one of the front rooms where Deadeye was kneeling at a window and peering through his scope. "Please don't shoot some random person walking past," North muttered even as he narrowed his eyes at the chill that ran down his spine. "What the hell do you see?"

His tone was mocking but the grip around his handgun was tight.

Sometimes this stuff...you just felt.

"It's some guy standing out there with binoculars. He's...oh shit, he's got dog tags like yours! And I see a logo on his jacket...Freelancer! He's got a weird looking gun...is that a revolver?"

"Hell yeah, you guys sent another agent to join us??" Jesse exclaimed as North's eyes narrowed. Only one person besides Nelson that he knew sporting a six-shooter. Missouri. "Told you we were hot shit!"

"Get away from the damn window," North growled before looking quickly around the room. "Everyone take cover!"

A few of the rebels shuffled hurriedly behind walls and furniture with confused expressions while Jesse and his entourage only frowned. "Dude, if he's a bad guy, we can fuckin' take him," Jesse declared.

North's teeth clenched and he shoved Jesse into the others to knock them all sprawling before he bellowed at Deadeye: "Get away from the goddamn window!" He lunged toward the confident sniper to grab his shoulder before cursing and turning his head as the tinkle of glass and a muted pop filled the room a moment after he felt a wet splatter across his chest.

North grimaced and spun to the side as the sound of glass shattering came twice more, pressing against the wall and muttering a string of short, ugly words as Deadeye slowly slumped backward before collapsing in a limp sprawl. A scream erupted a moment later when the rest of the room noticed the gaping hole in the back of his skull, bits of brain tissue and bone fragments scattered across the floor; the scope of his rifle was a mangled mess, destroyed by a round that had ripped through it to burst through his head. And Mississippi. Shit.

"Everyone stay down, don't go near the windows!" North barked. One of the rebels cried out in panic and spun to race out of the room before North could stop them, and another window was cracked as a bullet severed the base of their neck before a second exploded through their skull to splash viscera across Tic and Forrest as they both gasped in horror, the latter flailing and kicking at the body to shove it away.

"Oh my fucking god, we're going to fucking die!"

"Not if you listen," North snarled as he looked around the room. At least nine or ten of them ducking for cover here. Sparrow, Charlene and a few others were crouching in the radio room. The rest were upstairs or in the back rooms. "There are at least two Freelancers coming for us. One is a long-range expert, so stay away from the windows. We need to cover them, now."

"What about the other one?!" someone wailed.

"Focus," North ordered, wrapping his burly arms around an armchair and then grunting as he hefted it up and slung it against the nearest window. He winced when it was peppered with a handful of muted shots, though the bullets were safely contained by the heavy furniture. "Stay low, get something in front of every window!" He met Jesse's eyes, gritting his teeth at the terrified expression. "Get the boats ready, start moving everyone out."

Jesse only stared back at him, fingers clutching into the half-wall he was crouched behind, until North yelled sharply: "Now!"

Jesse yelped and fell back on his ass, but nodded and stammered to his companions: "G-g-go uncover the boats! We'll head to the second site a-a-a-and...r-regroup!"

North closed his eyes and exhaled quickly before turning to help a pair of rebels to shove a bookshelf in front of another window as several more bullets screamed through to bury into the rock walls. If he could take away Mississippi's advantage, they'd need to close in. It'd buy him enough time to evacuate everyone else, at least. He spotted Sparrow and Charlene blocking off the windows in the furthest rooms as Danny strode down from upstairs with a rifle in his hands, a long coat fluttering around his large frame. "Get down!" North hissed.

Danny blinked and looked at him before huffing and breaking into a light jog, then pressing against a doorframe. "Don't worry, we got this. The minute they come inside, they're toast!"

North resisted the urge to roll his eyes, focusing on the task at hand as they flipped a heavy table over to block the last window. Eyes on the prize. "Okay, let's move, let's move!" he shouted while gesturing toward the back of the base. "Everyone to the..." He blinked as he heard a muffled thump against the front door. "Oh...shit, get back!"

The rebel nearest the door cocked his head and started to reach for the locks, as if checking them would help. North was too far and he grimaced as he turned away and grabbed two of the nearest resistance fighters, shielding them with his broad body an instant before a deafening blast filled the room with light and heat. North cursed and felt several searing chunks of metal drive into his back as he dropped to one knee, doing his best to stay focused through the cacophony of the explosion and the horrified cries rising up as the dust settled.

"Stevens!!" A wide-eyed rebel stumbled toward the remains of their obliterated companion as North snarled over a shoulder at the sight of a toned lupus strolling through the dark cloud of smoke, his silver eyes gleaming cheerfully while he waved a black-furred hand in front of his muzzle. The horrified fighter yanked a pistol from her waistband with a strained shout but the intruder smirked and drew his revolver in a flash of movement, placing two rounds neatly in the rebel's chest before she could pull the trigger. She opened her muzzle wordlessly, staring down at the crimson stains spreading through her shirt before she collapsed to her knees and dropped to one side.

North shoved the two squealing rebels toward the back room before lunging for cover as a bullet ripped through his shoulder. He cursed in pain and gripped his shoulder with one hand as the other grabbed his pistol while he pushed his back against the wall. God, he'd always hated this asshole.

"So this is what's been keeping you so busy!"

He really hated this asshole.

He heard the other Freelancer's claws nudging aside debris while he strode into the room, grimacing as two more shots rang out. He glanced over and saw several rebels crouching on the other side of the room. Their eyes all stared at him, begging for an answer, for direction, for something. He needed to give them a way out.

"This is gonna cost you more than your spot on the boards today, North!" Missouri called out cheerfully. "Man, I cannot believe it. HADES mentioned the name from the transmission, but ho-leeeee-shit, to think Agent North is scummin' it with the rebels...what a fuckin' joke!"

North closed his eyes before the sound of a cylinder cracking open made him jolt into action. "Well, good news is that--"

North spun out from behind the doorway with a snarl, his pistol raised as Missouri blinked, in the middle of reloading the revolver. He only grinned, though, snapping the cylinder shut half-loaded and immediately firing a shot as North did the same. Both agents ducked as their shots went wide, sprinting toward one another as a second and third round was released from both of them. North gasped as another bullet tore through his bicep, but one of his clipped Missouri as well, making him spin partially away from the size of the round. "Oh, it's fuckin' on, asshole!"

"Bring it," North replied darkly as he lunged at the other Freelancer while shoving his pistol toward his chest. But Missouri was swift, maneuvering the barrel of his revolver into North's gun to send the next shot past his side. Missouri's eyes flashed as his other hand whipped up and slammed into North's wrist, jarring the bones hard enough to loosen his grip around his pistol. Missouri yanked it away, then twisted into a brutal swing of his revolver, spinning it to grip by the barrel and sling the reinforced handle into North's muzzle.

North growled, his head turning slightly to one side as he spat out a fang, then reached up to wrap his enormous hand around Missouri's revolver and jerk it forcefully away. His other fist hurtled toward the other Freelancer's gut, smashing with enough force that Missouri's eyes bulged while a burst of blood came out in a ragged cough. But North remained focused and grabbed Missouri's shoulders to throw him bodily to the ground, dropping into a kneel over him and cocking his arm back again.

"North!!"

He glanced over his shoulder at Sparrow's voice, then narrowed his eyes as a tall felis shouldered through the remains of the door, a long-range rifle already swinging toward North. "There he is," she sang out with a half-grin.

But Sparrow and Charlene both sprung out from their cover, the former releasing a strangled yell as he grabbed the barrel of the rifle to shove it aside. Mississippi snorted before grunting in surprise as Charlene threw herself into a tackle that sent all three of them into a messy sprawl.

North's instincts screamed and he glanced back down just as Missouri roared and kicked both paws into his torso to force him back as he slid out from beneath the towering chupa. North stole one more look back to see Sparrow clutch the rifle before Mississippi booted him viciously in the head, then leaped back to her paws while drawing a knife. "Charlene! Run!" North yelled before launching himself at Missouri as the black-furred agent snatched up his revolver.

He heard the two females scuffling and he bared his teeth furiously, wrapping an arm around Missouri's neck and twisting around to his back before he could fire, ruthlessly wrenching his thick arm to the side to sever the base of Missouri's spinal cord with a sickening crack of bone and sinew. He grabbed the revolver and looked up in time to see Mississippi pin Charlene against the wall, a toothy grin on her muzzle as she drove the knife rapidly into the rebel's chest, then shifted the crimson-stained blade up to bury it into the bottom of her jaw.

North shouted a furious denial and yanked the trigger, but the revolver only clicked empty. Mississippi whipped her head around toward him, then smirked as she pulled the knife back and let Charlene's body drop unceremoniously. "For everyone's favorite alpha male, you always did have too many fuckin' soft spots," she noted before breaking into a sprint as North set himself.

Sparrow gave a broken yell a moment before the long-range rifle barked, both Freelancers twisting around briefly toward him. The round glanced off Mississippi's arm, however, and she only spat out a disgusted laugh. "Fuckin' pitiful!"

Behind her, Danny stared with a ghostly expression, his hands shakily raised in fists. North had a moment of hope -- even if the guy was a liar, he had the same size advantage as North, he could at least slow her down. But when she turned to face him with a cruel grin, one step was all it took for him to quiver and then break into an ugly sprint for the back door. She burst into laughter, then spun back around at the distinct sound of another round being loaded into the rifle.

Her eyes glowed and she lifted her arm, her glare boring into Sparrow as he fumbled to line up another shot. But North was already moving as she raised her hand with the knife, diving at the last second to block the thrown weapon with a forearm before it could sink into Sparrow's chest. "Move! Get the rest out!" North shouted before ripping the blade from his arm.

"Too many soft spots!" Mississippi echoed around a cackle as she produced another knife and flung it into the back of another rebel scrambling for the back door, sending the slender male to the ground with an agonized cry. "C'mon, North, you gonna let all these bastards die for you or we gonna fuckin' do this??"

North felt his hackles rising in fury. "You hear me, Sparrow?" he muttered. "Go!"

Several seconds of heavy panting before a whispered "Got it" floated up to him. North nodded once and then stood up, the knife gripped securely as blood dripped from it, joined by several rivulets running down his arm and back.

"I got this. I'll find you guys after. Get every boat gone," he ordered before focusing on Mississippi as she rolled her head between her shoulders, two more blades appearing in her hands.

Sparrow scrambled past them and Mississippi laughed, moving to swing a knife toward him only to grunt in surprise as North closed the distance fast enough to check her aside, nearly bowling her off her feet. "That's more like it," she uttered before roaring as she sprung toward him, both knives gleaming dangerously.

North's movements were smooth despite his injuries, his training surging forward to give him everything he needed for the challenge. Just another goddamn all-star game, that was all. He caught glimpses of Sparrow racing to the other rooms, dragging out frozen and panicked rebels in twos and threes and shoving them out the back door. North heard the engines starting and he nodded to himself while continuing to drive Mississippi backward with his bulk alone.

Her twin blades had carved several gashes in his massive arms and chest, but they were nothing to him, nothing that could compete with his cold concentration. She snarled and ducked a swing from his own knife before shouting with the effort of a feint that sent a blade hurtling toward his neck. He shot a hand up and wrapped it fearlessly around the blade, barely wincing as he felt the metal biting into his pads, blood coursing over his fingers to flow down across her hand. He wrenched the knife away and then slung a powerful haymaker into her head to knock her back into a stack of rations as she shouted her rage.

He took the moment to glance around. No new corpses. The majority of them were still alive. Sparrow burst back through the door, his eyes wide but his trembling overtaken by the adrenaline. "I...I think that's everyone! Come on!"

North nodded before a distinctive snap of plastic made him freeze, his eyes bulging. He turned back toward Mississippi to see her smiling crookedly while dropping an empty injection gun, the clatter of the thing across the floor making every other sound on Sirca fade to a muted hum.

"You...really...should have signed up...for the program," she panted as her lips curled into a feral grin, dropping forward to a kneel as her back arched while the jacket stretched tightly over her body tore as her muscles flexed and expanded unnaturally. Her fur jumped to attention as her tail and mane puffed out in a way that would almost have been comical if not for the fact that her eyes had shifted into a fierce yellow, leaving only thin black pupils that stared up with an insatiable wrath.

"Shit! Sparrow, run!" North shouted as he leaped toward her with the knife drawn and directed at her throat.

But his wrist was caught by a blazing-fast palm as her claws dug into his arm, piercing through his hide like butter. He glared down as the werewolf snarled back up at him, the very air crackling between them before she howled and swung her other hand in a swipe at his chest.

Her grip was too tight for him to twist away and North cried out sharply as four jagged lines were torn through his breast. He panted and then dropped the knife from his trapped hand to catch with the other, only for the transformed agent to growl and swiftly spring up from her crouched position to shoulder into him and send his gigantic frame smashing into the opposite wall. The smooth planks of wood shattered from the impact and his head cracked into the rocky surface behind the decorative covers before he slumped into a dazed heap.

His vision swam and he struggled to clench back into reality, fighting with every ounce of his will to claw his way to the surface. He saw the figure of Mississippi lunging toward Sparrow and tackling him into a corner, heard the scream of agony as her claws drove into his good leg.

...No. It was the people who made this all worth it.

North bared his teeth and wrapped both hands around his resolve, pulling himself out of the haze and letting the defiant voice inside guide him. He heard the dull thud of his paws across the floor despite feeling nothing beyond the ache of his body and the pounding of his pulse, following only his drive for that goddamn goal post as he threw his body into Mississippi before she could bring her claws down upon Sparrow again.

They smashed into the wall together and she gave a wild scream, a hard elbow slamming into his ribs in response. He heard the bone snap but shoved it aside; those were just sensations. He could survive those. North managed to loop an arm around her neck as Sparrow stared up in horror, blood running from his leg but his body otherwise intact. "Run! And don't fucking stop!" North shouted hoarsely before widening his eyes as Mississippi reached up with both hands and grabbed his forearm. He could do little more than brace himself as she snapped the bone with a growl of effort while he clenched his jaws hard enough to crack a tooth.

Sparrow was rooted to the spot for a moment, but he nodded numbly and rolled to the side an instant before the werewolf's claws drove into North's shoulder, spinning with him and forcing him off her back to slam him cruelly into the spot Sparrow had been a second earlier. Her eyes shot to the rebel and she stretched out her other hand to grab into his injured leg before he could scramble safely out of reach. North shouted without words, eyes laser-focused as he drove the knife swiftly into the side of Mississippi's neck.

She yowled and released Sparrow, giving the injured chupa the opportunity to slide away and then struggle back to his feet. He stared over a shoulder and North looked back up at him before rasping: "Go!"

He watched as Sparrow swallowed but then turned around with a whimper of gratitude, limping through the door and toward the last of the boats as it began to pull away from the rocks. North panted hard and turned his attention back to Mississippi before his body froze as she dug her claws into his throat, then tore viciously to the side.

He gasped and the sound came too swiftly, his breath whistling freely through his neck as his blood sprayed across them both.

Eyes on the prize.

She shifted to move off of him and pursue Sparrow, and North clamped a hand over his throat as hot, thick fluid spilled across his fingers. He shoved his other hand up and grabbed her shoulder, making her snarl in surprise and whip her head back toward him. The beast struggled and tried to yank away but he refused to loosen his grip as his eyes bored fiercely into hers. She roared in his face, spittle and blood flecking across his features before he grunted with a twitch when her hand disappeared into his side. He could feel her claws driving into him, raking through his innards as she lowered her head with jaws wide...

Eyes on the prize.

He blinked back the darkness, releasing her shoulder and sluggishly curling his fingers around the knife still lodged in her neck. There was little resistance when he pulled it free. He could no longer feel his legs, but he didn't need them. He was almost there, he could taste the goal.

The blade sunk once more into her rippling hide and she stiffened.

A third time as she vomited blood across his weakened body, her eyes flashing with fury while her teeth glistened above his throat.

A fourth and she at last shuddered violently before giving a rattling wheeze and slowly collapsing upon his blood-soaked chest. The air in her chest trickled out one final time as North closed his eyes and nodded weakly.

Wasn't time to celebrate yet.

He tipped his head back, though it was like moving through molasses, minutes seeming to pass as he forced himself to stare upside-down through the open doorway. He saw the glimmer of the boat roaring away. He thought he could make out Sparrow's features staring back, though the words he shouted were mere whispers of static.

North's arm fell limp at his side as he struggled to take a breath, feeling the rush of blood pouring into his lungs as he kept his fingers wrapped stubbornly around his neck. Mississippi was still, her weight a motionless mass upon him even as he felt the pressure lifting from his broken form. The faintest of smiles slid onto his muzzle as tears rolled across his cheeks. Last man standing.

Coach always did tell him he was a fighter.

He saw his friends. Heard them, their excited voices as they took turns rambling about their dumb little notebook, telling North with increasingly energetic giggles who'd had the best lay that week. York's big, dumb grin...good at hiding his soul from most of the world, but not from North. North had always seen further into him. Always knew there was more to York, always had that feeling. And he was proud of his friend, proud he'd been brave enough to accept the strange truth about himself and become happier for it. Stronger for it. They'd come through so much together, and York said again and again North was the better one, the true champion of the team. But North always knew better. York's compassion would save the world one day.

Samael, the tiny redneck with a heart of gold and a past that haunted him no matter how warm those blue eyes held anyone lucky enough to be caught in his gaze. North remembered feeling that gaze, feeling that unadulterated love that Samael gave freely to the world, and even more freely to his friends. He'd barely even registered the flames on his back thanks to the way he'd stared at North that day, pouring his soul into him, showing more gratitude and appreciation than North deserved. Than anyone deserved. It was a life he would always cherish saving.

He blinked away the tears but more joined them as Bethany stood over him and told him he was an idiot. He was soft, too soft. It'd get him killed one day. But as she squatted next to him and started to bandage the gash in his chest, she'd murmured words he wasn't sure anyone else would ever hear, thanking him for always having her back. Wishing he wouldn't. Grateful he had. She gripped firmly into his hand and he squeezed back as their eyes met.

He felt a tighter grip around his other hand as he knelt in the mud and gazed down with a smile at Madison. Tears streaked through the muck on her cheeks, anger and frustration and misery all violently mixed together. But never regret. She'd told him the minute they started this double-agent thing that it'd screw them over, that his bleeding heart was gonna be his end. But the day he'd pulled her out of the mud and threw his arm around her, feeling her press defiantly against him to make sure they both finished that trial, that memory was all he'd ever need to offer clemency for his bleeding heart. The cold gaze she'd earned at Freelancer would never be what he saw in her. His sister would forever be the pissed off but determined outcast who refused to give up, who refused to leave his side.

He only wished he hadn't run somewhere she couldn't follow. He hated breaking a vow.

His eyes slid shut as he allowed himself a shiver and a whimper. Ice was running up from his fingers and the memories were beginning to melt together. He turned his head to the side and then gave a broken smile as Eve was there to meet him, her palm always so warm on his cheek. Her voice was a soothing lullaby against the darkness that closed around him. She pulled his head close, never having to tell him it was okay to cry. His tears soaked into her fur and she murmured reassurances no one else had ever thought he'd needed to hear. After all, he was the star, the hero, the idol. Why would he need reassurances? But she always knew better.

It had always been about the people. And she was at the center of them all, a bright star of hope. A part of Sirca's future, the future that didn't need Freelancers or werewolves or the Movement. The future Carter had always wanted, that no trophy or rank or honor would ever bring. Her voice reminded him that future could still come to pass, even without him there to lead the charge.

No matter how hopeless it feels...no matter how awful you think you have been...

Her arms closed around his head, her voice drifting down through his mane as he clung to her and sobbed, his sins laid bare for her to judge.

You've made Sirca a better place. Every life you're a part of now is better because of you, because you've grown and accepted your flaws and chosen to improve them...

But her judgments were always gentle, her verdict never cruel. She'd always said that everyone made their mistakes and had their regrets. Acknowledging them was what made him a better man.

No one...nothing can take all the good you've done away from you. Sirca may not know it, but you have helped to save her already...because it's her people who make her shine. No matter what happens, Carter, I'm proud of you...because you've already won.

His shallow breathing slowed to a whisper as his fingers slid from his throat to rest atop his heart, where her hand would always press as they drifted off together. The apologies didn't come, because she reminded him there were no need. Those he loved and held close would just have to forgive him, the way they'd want him to do for them, because there were worse ways to die than bleeding out on the steps of a mission you'd seen through to the end.

The rain ran across his features as he managed another weak smile across the dark landscape. Looks like he'd have one more chance after all.

His body relaxed and fell silent, and for the last time, Carter Caruthers became a part of Sirca.

Nothing more and nothing less.

Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.