Blood On Our Hands (Red vs Blue)

Data Drop

  Alaska and Michigan easily landed on the ground at their facility. It was surprisingly empty where they were, giving the impression that there wasn't many guard patrols there. But they knew they had to keep on their toes. No need to get cocky then end up with a bullet hole, right? On their flight, Omicron did a scan of their armors, and concluded that they do not have their exact old armor, from before cryogenic sleep.. It's just.... newer. Apparently, the Director is starting to appreciate them more, or UNSC doesn't care anymore.

Alaska smiled at the thought as he realized that they wouldn't be there unless the UNSC didn't want them, or if they could foresee a powerful enemy in the future. He guessed it was the first option. Well, really, that one was hard to place. But, seriously, why would the UNSC give away five of their better soldiers, who all have significant battle experience and each have knowledge of the SPARTAN program? Especialy Spartan-IIs? The UNSC tried to keep the SPARTAN-II project a secret, but it didn't work out so well. He mentally sighed, realizing that he'd probably never have an answer to that question.

Mostly because people liked leaving him and the other three marines/ODSTs in the dark. Not entirely a good thing.

Alaska checked over his concusion rifle, which felt oddly out of place, because it had been such a long time since he had it. The last time he rememembered using it was... when He, Nevada, and Iowa went to retrieve the A.I,s... That's when Vanguard decided to drop into their lives, and ruin them. His DMR was secure on his back, just in case he needed it. It was unlikely, but it was just an extra precaution. Just in case. Michigan had a Battle rifle in his hands, and an SMG on his hip. Just the two of them, hey made a menacing team. Two specially trained marines will always be a major enemy, especially two Freelancers with a goal in mind.

They scanned their surroundings, searching for any clues.

The area around them was like a normal base, metal walls with no decorations, or windows in sight. The ground was treaded, uneven. It would hurt if you face-planted on it, that's for sure. It was the most random thought Alaska could have during a mission, but, hey, at least he's not completely absorbed in the mission. He wondered what was going through Michigan's mind right then, whether or not he was completely focused on this mission. Omicron was probably running statistics and records through his head, analyzing everything. The A.I. never gave him a rest.

Kappa was good with letting Alaska have his own thoughts. He never really clouded Alaska's head with data, though the occasion did surface sometimes, where Kappa would start thinking, and keep like that for long hours of the day. It's normal for an A.I. to do that. All A.I. have moments like that. Zeta and Eta were no exceptions. A.I.s were data with a personality. They had to think to keep everything straight, to keep them sane. Ironicly, that's also how they go rampant. In rampancy, an A.I. thinks itself to death.

Alaska couldn't imagine a fate like that, thinking himself to death... It seemed like a horrible way to go. He hoped that, at least, he'd still have Kappa when he... went. At least then he can be with someone he trusts, and not some damn scientist. Suddenly remembering why they were there, Alaska pushed the thoughts out of his mind. It was time to act, not sit there with random thoughts in his head.

"Let's move," He said to Michigan, who nodded in response.

~,~,~

Iowa and Nevada didn't land the way... they were hoping to. "Are you gonna jump or what?" The pilot asked, irratation coating every word. "Don't you think it's a little high?" Nevada and Iowa both asked, peering over the edge. "You'll live. Now jump," The pilot ordered. "Can you lower it? Just a bit?" Iowa asked. With a sigh, the pilot dropped down about three inches. "Yeah, that really helps," Nevada said sarcastically. The pilot smirked.