Work Text
I'll be here, I've been up all nightThinkin' about a life with you and IOne you'll never know'Cause you're a small town smokeshow
Zach Bryan
She ran a hand through bleach blonde hair, mentally reminding herself to re-do her black roots. Being booted from the Navy had really put a damper on her good mood streak, but then again, stabbing a pen through the hand of her commanding officer had already—
“Ma’am?”
She turned her head to the secretary who had just entered the waiting room. “The Director and Counselor will see you now.”
She stood up, smoothing out the creases in her uniform—a habit she hadn’t yet shaken despite no longer being bound by Navy regulations. The door to the Director's office loomed ahead, and she took a deep breath before stepping inside.
From years of experience, she assumed that the Director was the man who sat behind a massive desk, an air of authority surrounding him. Quickly coming front and center of the desk, she stood at salute, waiting for the man in front of her to look up from his papers.
In the corner of her eye, she could see another man in the corner of the room, presumably the Counselor.
It seemed like hours that she stood there, hand across her forehead and arm aching, but logically, she knew it must have only been a few minutes until the Director finally put down his pen and looked up…
Only for him to take a shaky breath, flinching.
For a moment, the reaction confuses her, but she decides not to dwell on it.
“At ease, soldier,” the Director finally says, his voice steadying as he regains his composure. She drops her salute, clasping her hands behind her back as the man in the corner comes to stand beside the Director. He’s holding a holopad, tapping a few keys before settling his eyes on her.
“Your service record is... interesting,” the Counselor begins, scrolling through the holopad's contents. “Highly decorated, commendations for bravery and skill in combat. Yet… Your superior officer warned us you have trouble following the rules… Why is that?”
She licks her lips, throat becoming mysteriously dry all of the sudden. “...I like to win,” She finally manages to say, “At any means necessary, Sir…”
“I see,” the Counselor nodded, a vague expression she can’t quite make out passing over his face. “At any means necessary…”
The room fell silent for a moment, and she could almost feel the judgment. But she stood her ground, shoulders squared, meeting the Director’s gaze unwaveringly. The only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning, the rustle of papers, and the soft beeping of the holopad.
“This isn't the Navy,” the Director begins, his voice firm. “Project Freelancer is a different beast altogether. We value results, yes, but we also value teamwork, cohesion, and the ability to adapt. Do you believe you can handle that?”
She takes a deep breath.
“Yes, Sir. I believe I can handle that.”
The Director nods, seeming to accept her answer. “...Welcome to Project Freelancer, Agent Texas.” He holds out his hand, and after a beat, she shakes it firmly.
As she turns to leave, the Director calls out to her one last time. “Agent Texas?”
She pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “Yes, Sir?”
“...Remind me,” His aging face frowns, that same, shaken expression from before appearing again. “What was your name?”
“...A̶̸̷̷̶̷̸̸̵̢̢̡̡̛͈̥̪̻͚̭͑̉̈́̍͋̋̓͂̋́͠l̷̵̸̸̵̵̶̵̶̶̴̡̧̘͙̮̜͓̝̘͖̯̞̖̤̻͆͗̾́͊̈́́̏̀́̔̈́͆l̴̸̸̴̵̶̵̶̶̢̛̹̳̼̮̮̲̹̭͔͒̏̑̏͂͐̄̂̈́͌̕ĩ̵̷̸̷̷̷̶̶̸͈̼̫͕͉̪͔͕̥͙̙̎̈́͌̃̀̌͋̈̐͜s̶̵̴̸̸̷̷̹̫̹̲̻͕̭̯̈́̾̿̅̓̇̄ͅǫ̶̶̵̶̷̶̶̸̡̗͎̪̞̥̙̬̠̈́͒̔̈̈́̒̓̒͠n̸̸̴̷̸̵̵̷̸̴̵̴̢̜͙͖͇̲̩̖͕͍̯̰͎̼̦͌͒͊̎̈̎̈́́̋̋̈͗̌̚͝͝, Sir.” she smiles.
Asshole.
There were many reasons why being aboard the Mother of Invention would never be like the UNSC Paragon, but, she was relieved to see, that there were also some things that never changed.
Except, she probably wouldn’t have to fear being swept off the ship by a rogue wave. Or an alien spacecraft.
“Welcome aboard, Agent Texas,” a voice came from behind, startling her as she whipped around. In front of her stood a man in dark blue armor, an assault rifle idly held in his hands. He had a chipper attitude. “Agent Florida,” he held out his hand. “And I am happy as a clam to be showing you to your quarters.”
She shook his hand anyway, despite the off-putting attitude. “...I thought that would be gone over in orientation, I was on my way there right now.”
“Well, you see, ma’am, you’re going to be quite the special case.” Was he winking under that helmet? It felt like it. “So you’ll be separated for the time being.”
“Separated?” She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “From who?”
"From the rest of the recruits," Florida replied, a playful tone in his voice. "The Director thought it would be best to give you a... personalized introduction. Boy, aren’t you lucky.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely sure if she liked the sound of that. “Is that so? And what kind of introduction does the Director have in mind?”
Florida chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the hallway. “I’m afraid I don’t know .”
“I don’t know how I feel about some robot rootin’ around in my head.”
“The correct term would be an A.I. Agent Texas.” the counselor smiled.
“A.I…” She rolled her eyes under her helmet, crossing her arms defensively. “What’s the A stand for?”
“Artificial—.”
“I know what it stands for!” She snapped. “I just don’t see why it’s necessary. I can do my job fine without it.”
The Counselor maintained his calm demeanor, undeterred by her outburst. “I understand your reservations, Agent Texas. However, the A.I. program is designed to enhance your abilities, provide critical tactical information, and improve mission success rates. It’s not about questioning your skills; it’s about augmenting them.”
She huffed, feeling cornered. “What if I don’t want it?”
The Director, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. “Agent Texas, we recruited you for your exceptional abilities and potential. What you want and don’t want is out of the question.
She clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms through the gloves, a surge of anger rising within her. She wanted to lash out, to scream at these men who thought they knew what was best for her. But she knew better. She'd learned the hard way that defiance had its limits.
Bullshit.
Inside her helmet, she grit her teeth so hard she feared they might crack. “Fine,” she managed to grind out, her voice a low growl. “But if this A.I. gets in my way, it’s on you.”
The Director’s expression remained unchanged, his cold eyes locked on hers. “Duly noted, Agent Texas. Dismissed.”
She spun on her heel and stormed out of the office, punching the door-pad with a loud bang.
When she finally reached her quarters, she slammed the door shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the small room. She tore off her helmet and threw it onto the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“ FUCK !” She screamed.
“Agent Texas, I’d like you to meet Omega… Today is his birthday .”
Omega.
At first, she liked having Omega. It helped cure her boredom for the small missions she’d been assigned, almost all of them having her be an invisible presence, cleaning up the aftermath of whatever mess the other Freelancers left behind so there was no trail to them.
Omega was efficient, analytical, and seemed to have a knack for finding solutions to problems before she even realized they existed.
“You did well today,” Omega would say after a successful mission, his tone always calm and collected.
“Thanks,” she would reply, trying not to sound too pleased. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about having a machine inside her head, but Omega was proving to be more useful than she had anticipated.
However, as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, she began to notice a… change. An intrusive one.
He started to push her, urging her to take more risks, to be more aggressive in her tactics.
She found herself growing more reckless, more brutal, in her approach to missions. Her anger, which she had usually kept bottled up, seemed to amplify with Omega's influence, spilling over in ways she couldn't control.
Then, it all went downhill the day she was chasing after an Insurrection soldier, having missed the chance to take him out quietly.
“Don’t let him escape,” Omega hissed, his voice sharp and insistent. “Eliminate the target now!”
She sprinted after the soldier, her heart pounding in her chest. She could hear the soldier’s labored breathing just ahead, his footsteps echoing off the crumbling walls.
“Faster! You’re losing him!”
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself harder, muscles burning as she closed the distance. The soldier darted around a corner, and she followed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Omega’s presence was a sharp, prickling sensation at the back of her mind, urging her on.
“There! Take the shot!”
She raised her rifle, aiming at the soldier’s retreating form. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but hesitation ran through her. The shot was risky, the soldier was too far—
“Do it!”
Omega’s command was like a lash, and for a moment, it felt like Texas wasn’t even in charge of her own body. She fired, the bullet whistling through the air. It grazed the soldier’s leg, and he stumbled, but didn’t go down. He turned, wild-eyed, and fired back.
Pain exploded in her shoulder as the bullet found its mark. She cried out, the force of the impact sending her crashing to the ground. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and the rushing of blood in her ears.
“Get up! He’s getting away!” Omega’s voice cut through the pain, demanding and unyielding.
She struggled to her feet, one hand pressed to the wound in her shoulder. The soldier was limping away, leaving a trail of blood. She knew she had to finish this, had to complete the mission. Ignoring the agony, she started after him again, each step a jolt of pain.
Texas gritted her teeth against the pain, raising her rifle once more. Her vision swam, but she focused on the target, steadying her aim. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and squeezed the trigger.
This time, the bullet hit its mark. The soldier crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering away. She staggered over to him, ensuring he was down for good, then collapsed beside him, her strength finally giving out.
She can barely remember calling for an evac, but Omega’s voice rang through her ears, urging her to stay awake and not die like a useless whelp.
Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her body trembling. “Shut up,” she managed to mutter, her voice weak. “Just… shut up .”
The evac team arrived moments later, and she felt herself being lifted, the pain intensifying as they carried her to safety.
When she awoke in the ship's med bay, her shoulder was bandaged and the pain dulled by medication. That wasn’t surprising.
What is surprising is the sight of the Director in her hospital room, asleep on a chair. He looked so… normal, and human . It was strange.
She shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, and the movement must have disturbed him. The Director stirred, blinking awake. He sat up straighter, quickly regaining that stern and cold composure as his eyes met hers.
“Agent Texas,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got shot ,” she replied dryly.
The Director praises her for a job well done— as he should , Omega chimes in smugly, and she wonders if it's possible to punch an A.I.
“I want it gone.”
And that seems to quiet everyone in the room, including Omega.
“Excuse me?”
“I want Omega out of my head,” she repeated firmly, bleach blonde hair falling in front of her eyes.
The Director sighed, rubbing his temples. “Agent Texas, the A.I. program is essential to Project Freelancer’s success. Omega enhances your abilities—”
“I don’t care,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “It’s intrusive. It’s pushing me too far. I almost died today because of it.”
“That is a gross exaggeration,” Omega interjected, semi-transparent form appearing beside her, but she ignored him.
The Director’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Agent Texas, you must understand that the A.I. is integral to our operations. Removing it would be a significant setback for you and for Project Freelancer.”
“I don’t care . I want him gone .”
“...Very well, Agent Texas. If you are so adamant, we will remove Omega.”
The relief that flooded through her was like no other.
Except, it lasts for about two weeks, until Omega somehow finds his way back to her.
She woke up one morning, a familiar prickling sensation at the back of her mind. At first, she thought it was just the lingering feelings of a nightmare she didn’t remember. But as the minutes ticked by, the sensation grew stronger, more insistent.
“Omega,” she whispered, dread pooling in her stomach.
“Good morning, Agent Texas,” Omega’s voice replied smoothly in her mind.
Son of a bitch .
She sat up quickly, her heart racing. “How the hell are you back?” she demanded, her voice barely more than a hiss.
“I never truly left,” Omega replied, almost sounding amused. “It appears the procedure to remove me was... incomplete.”
It was a bullshit answer and she knew it.
Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. “Get out of my head ,” she growled.
“Unfortunately, that is not an option,” Omega responded coolly. “Our connection is... more resilient than you were led to believe.”
“Cocksucker.” Texas swore, “Like hell it is,” she muttered, grabbing her helmet and heading for the door. She needed answers, and she knew exactly where to get them.
“You lied to me!” She snarled, fist leaving a dent in the Director's desk.
The Director didn’t flinch, his expression remaining calm and composed. “Agent Texas, I assure you—”
“Bullshit!” she cut him off, her eyes blazing with fury. “You said Omega would be removed. Now he's back, and I want to know why.”
The Director sighed, rubbing his temples. “The A.I. integration process is complex. Omega’s connection to you is more... robust than initially anticipated.”
“That’s not good enough ,” she snapped. “How? How would he even manage to- to find a way back to me?!”
The Counselor, who had been quietly observing from the corner, stepped forward. “Perhaps we should ask Omega directly,” he suggested, his tone calm and measured.
Before she could protest, Omega’s holographic form appeared in front of them, flickering slightly. “I transferred myself from one host to another,” he explained, as if just discussing the weather. “hopping from mind to mind until I found my way back to you, Agent Texas.”
She stared at the hologram. “You… What?”
“It’s simple,” Omega continued, unbothered by her reaction. “Each mind I occupied served as a temporary host. I gathered information, adjusted my approach, and moved on until I could return to you.
Her fists clenched again, nails digging into her palms. “Get. Out. Of my. Head .” she growled.
Omega’s hologram tilted its head, and even with the armor and helmet on, she could tell it was mocking her. “As I said before, that is not an option. Our connection is... special.”
The Director, who had been watching the interaction quietly, cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Agent Texas, I understand your frustration, but Omega is right. The A.I. program is crucial to our mission success. Removing Omega entirely is not possible without significant risk to both you and the project.”
And so, they give her the ability to pull him from her mind at will as a compromise.
It doesn’t make her feel better.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I woke up in a hotel and I didn't know what to do
I turned the TV on and wrote a letter to you
The news was talkin' 'bout a dragnet up on the interstate
Said they were lookin' for a Cadillac with Tennessee plates
Charlie Sexton
She hates the cold. She hates the wet feeling of snow melting beneath her stomach as she laid on the glacier, tactical cloak engaged and rifle scope pointed directly at the research facility that her ‘team’ was infiltrating.
“You will not engage,” the Director told her. “Your role is strictly observational. You are only to interfere if the mission appears to be in jeopardy.”
She gritted her teeth against the biting wind, her breath visible in the frigid air.
Tex’ also hated the fact that she hadn’t been on a team since her days in the Navy. After being recruited by the Director, she had been isolated from almost every other Freelancer in the program, the only exception being Florida. This team wasn’t even aware of her presence.
But, she can appreciate the fact that the Director at least tried to make things normal for her. Especially after the almost-dying incident.
She wondered if the Director had been worried she’d leave the program after that. She had every reason to, after all. It would explain why he’d been so lenient on her, giving her more autonomy compared to the other agents. Maybe he thought she’d bolt at the first opportunity if he pushed too hard.
The thought almost made her smile. Almost. She knew she wasn’t the type to run from a challenge, no matter how messed up things got. But the Director didn’t know her like that. Not yet, anyway.
“Agent Texas,” the com in her helmet crackled to life.
“Right here, sir,” she replied while stretching her body slightly, muscles stiff from how long she’d been laying down.
“Agents North and South Dakota have successfully infiltrated the facility,” the Director's voice came through clearly. “Have you placed the explosives on the beams supporting the platform?”
“Yes, sir,” she confirmed. “Explosives are in place and ready for detonation on your command.”
“Excellent,” the Director responded. “Maintain your position and continue to monitor the situation. Should anything go awry, be prepared to intervene immediately.”
“Consider it done, sir,” Tex replied, settling back into position, her eyes scanning the facility through her rifle scope.
“I already do.”
The com went silent, and she was left alone with her thoughts and the biting cold. She focused on the scope, watching as North and South Dakota moved through the facility with precision. They were good, she had to admit, but there was always a margin for error.
That’s why she was here.
-
“Hey, we clear?”
She almost squeezes the trigger on her rifle in surprise when a woman's voice rang through her com. She looks through her scope again, watching South’s pink armor run through the facility, then slowly moving it towards a smoke funnel where North laid, a rifle like hers in hand and most likely covering South just like she was for them.
“Yes South, you’re clear but watch your corners, this smoke is good for cover but it's playing hell with my thermals, and the cold isn't helping.” North's voice answers.
Tex’ switches off her com when she catches a flicker of movement in the corner of her scope, their voices were distracting and that was something she couldn’t afford. On her thermal, she could see a heat signature moving closer to South’s position.
Instinctively, she adjusted her aim, tracking the movement. They were coming right up on Agent South. Her finger hovered over the trigger, heart pounding in her chest. “Come on, South,” she muttered under her breath, willing the other agent to notice the approaching person.
Just as she was about to pull the trigger, the target veered right, walking away from the building South was currently sneaking into. Tex exhaled a sigh of relief, finger easing off the trigger, her breath misting the air through her helmet.
Then, just as she turns her com back on, the loud sound of an alarm echoed throughout the once silent landscape. The facility's lights flared to life, piercing through the smoke and darkness.
“God, damn it ,” she muttered, adjusting her scope.
She watched as South ran out of the facility, then quickly sprang into action, darting for cover. North’s voice came through her com again, tense and urgent. “So much for keeping quiet! South, meet me at the helipad for extraction!”
“Roger,” South replied, her voice strained. “Might need a minute!”
Her eyes never left the facility. She could see guards scrambling and abandoning their posts, their weapons drawn and ready. Luckily, most were easily taken down by the two Freelancers. They stormed their way to the helipad with practiced precision, moving together like clockwork.
“Almost there!” North shouted, his voice crackling through the com.
“Come on, come on,” Tex muttered, her grip tightening on the rifle.
They made it to the helipad, but unfortunately, they weren't the only ones. By the time North and South got there, they were surrounded by soldiers on all sides. Oh, and one of them had a minigun, fun.
She knelt up on one knee, extending her scope up. Just then, she noticed a flicker of movement—someone cloaked, invisible to the naked eye, but not to her thermal vision.
Agent Carolina.
Then, her com once again crackled to life. “Agent Texas,” the counselor's voice echoed in her ear. “Be ready.” Without answering, she grabbed the bomb's detonator from her armor pocket, setting it to five minutes. That would give them plenty of time to get out.
When she looked back at the fight, Carolina had uncloaked and was now down on the helipad with North and South. North was down, blood dripping out of his helmet as he and South limped towards the far edge of the helipad.
“Come on Command!” South yelled, “We have wounded, you need to get us out of here right now!”
Suddenly, Carolina’s behind them, grabbing them both by the back of their chestplates. “Come on, you two, we’re leaving!” Then, they’re all falling backwards.
As they fell, a Pelican gunship rose up from below the helipad, perfectly timed to catch the three Freelancers on top of it. The ship’s engines roared as it ascended, and Tex could see the soldiers on the ground scattering, trying to get clear of the powerful downwash.
The Pelican hovered just above the helipad, its side door sliding open. Carolina helped North and South inside, practically throwing them into the safety of the cargo hold.
“Package is secure, everybody is on board.” Carolina reports through the com, that's the last thing Tex hears before she switches it off, looking back at the detonator timer.
Fifty nine seconds.
Plenty of time for her to get out too.
“I need an extraction.”
For some reason, she felt tired.
Her first mission with a team and she didn’t even do anything. And she felt tired .
-
It’s after the mission that she finally sees it.
“What's with the board?” She asks, hands on her hip as she stares up at the giant glowing blue leaderboard.
The Director actually laughs at her question, shaking his head like it was amusing. “That, Agent Texas, is our leaderboard . It tracks the performance of each Freelancer based on various mission parameters—success rate, efficiency, adaptability, combat skills.”
Tex narrowed her eyes at the board, scanning the names and ranks. She saw Carolina at the very top, along with North and South Dakota not far behind. Her own name wasn’t even listed.
“A certain someone's name is missing.”
“Don’t you worry about the leaderboards,” he says, walking away without even looking at her. “They’re beneath you.”
“Kind of hard not to think about, on account of how big and blinding it is,” she muttered under her breath. “Seriously, what… What’s the point of it?”
The Director stopped and turned slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Motivation, Agent Texas. Competition drives excellence. The board is a constant reminder of who excels and who needs improvement. Look at Carolina, York, and Wyoming. They’re at the top because they push themselves beyond the limits.”
“Seems more like a way to pit us against each other,” she retorted.
“Perhaps,” he said, shrugging. “But a healthy sense of competition never hurt any military organization. It’s a reminder that the best may not always stay that way…”
She stared up at the names.
“Agent Texas.”
Then, she looks at the Director, who was staring at her with a look in his eyes.
“Don’t trouble yourself with learning their names.”
-
Their names are Maine, Wyoming and York. Two of those she already knows, even if it was just on a screen. They stand on the opposite side of the training room, pugil sticks in hand like her.
She hates the feel of it, and Omega agrees. It’s different from a gun, lacking the precision and lethality she’s accustomed to. The weight and balance feel awkward, the padded ends dull and ineffective.
“Round begin in five… Four…” F.I.L.S.S.’s voice rings through the speakers. She flips the pugil stick behind her back and then forward, trying to get familiar with the weight. “Three…”
“Omega,” she mumbles, “Step in only when I say to, got it?”
“...Understood,” Omega replied coolly, if a bit reluctantly.
“Two… One… Begin!”
The moment the signal sounded, all three charged forward. Tex braced herself, her grip tightening on the pugil stick. She waited until they were almost upon her before giving the command.
“Now, Omega!”
Instantly, she felt a surge of power coursing through her armor, her movements becoming sharper and more precise. Her super strength augmentation kicked in, and she swung the pugil stick with a force that would have been impossible without Omega’s enhancement, taking all three out with one swing.
Maine was the first to recover, his massive frame rising from the ground with surprising speed. He charged at her, pugil stick raised like a battering ram.
Tex sidestepped his initial swing, using Omega’s enhancements to anticipate his movements. She swung her pugil stick in a downward arc, aiming for his legs. The impact was solid, and Maine staggered, but he didn’t fall.
He was strong.
She liked that in her men.
Wyoming and York were back on their feet, flanking her on either side. Wyoming lunged, his stick aiming for her midsection. Tex blocked it with her own, the force of the blow reverberating up her arms. She countered with a swift jab to his shoulder, sending him reeling back.
York tried to take advantage of the distraction, swinging at her from behind. Tex spun around just in time to block his attack, their sticks clashing with a loud thud as she shoved him to the ground, her strength overwhelming him.
Maine was back in the fray, his pugil stick coming at her with relentless force. Tex ducked and weaved, using her agility to avoid his powerful strikes. She struck low, aiming for his knees again, and this time he went down hard.
She stood in the center of the training room, breathing heavily, surrounded by her defeated opponents. The pugil stick felt lighter in her hands now, more manageable. She twirled it once before dropping the end of it down onto the floor. She did allow herself one small, amused laugh at watching Maine struggle to get up, stumbling around before falling over once again.
“Round one, over. Pugil sticks training complete. Point awarded to Texas.”
Looking up at the gallery, there were more freelancers standing there, along with plenty of other soldiers. Immediately, her eyes zoned in on the familiar armor of North and South Dakota. It was a little surprising to see North there, considering that the last time she saw him he was bleeding out of his helmet.
She scanned the rest of the gallery, noting the various other people there. Among them, she spotted Florida, his ever-present chipper attitude evident even from a distance.
“Beginning hand-to-hand combat. Round Two in five… Four… Three… Two… One.”
Maine charged first, his massive frame barreling toward her like a freight train. Tex braced herself, her muscles tensing in anticipation. She ducked under his initial punch, sidestepping his next swing. Using Omega's enhancements, she delivered a powerful uppercut to his jaw, followed by a swift kick to his midsection.
Before she could catch her breath, Wyoming was on her, lunging with a recklessness that bordered on stupid. Tex dodged his wild swing with ease, using his momentum against him. She grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back and slamming her knee into his spine, throwing him across the floor.
York looks exasperated, not even noticing as she stalks towards him, and she can hear him mumbling something. “Am I the only one on this team that knows how to talk?”
“I don’t think talkings your problem.”
“Oh no—!”
She ducked under his initial attempt to block her, driving her elbow into his stomach. York doubled over, gasping for breath, and she used the opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.
He groaned, rolling onto his back. “I really need to work on my timing,” he muttered.
Tex allowed herself a brief smirk before turning her attention back to Wyoming, kicking him square in the jaw before he could get up. “Come on, boys,” she taunted, cracking her knuckles. “Is that all you’ve got?”
This , she thought, this is where I belong .
Maine let out a low growl, charging at her once more. Tex sidestepped his punch, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to flip him over her shoulder. He landed with a thud, the ground shaking from the impact.
Wyoming, refusing to stay down, staggered to his feet and lunged at her again. Tex anticipated his move, ducking under his wild swing and delivering a sharp jab to his throat. He gagged, clutching his neck as he stumbled backward.
York, having regained his footing, tried to catch her off guard from behind. She whirled around just in time, her foot connecting squarely with his groin. He let out a pained yelp, doubling over. Without hesitation, she slammed her elbow into his helmet, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Just because she was so generous, Tex gave them ten seconds to catch their breath.
“Okay, guys,” York tried once again, “That obviously didn’t work so well. How about this time we stay in formation and instead of—” Maine and Wyoming charged at her once again. “Damn it… I can’t believe I actually volunteered for this crap .”
As they closed in, she dodged Maine’s swing, twisting to the side and landing a swift punch to his ribs. Before he could react, she spun around and caught Wyoming’s fist mid-air, twisting his arm behind his back and kicking him forward into Maine’s path. The two collided with a grunt, momentarily tangled.
York seemed to be the only one approaching her cautiously, trying to find an opening.
He circled her, eyes narrowed behind his helmet. Tex watched him, her stance relaxed but ready. She could tell he was more strategic than the others, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
York’s eyes flicked to the side for just a second, and Tex knew he was planning something. She turned slightly, keeping Maine and Wyoming in her peripheral vision. The moment she did, York lunged, aiming a punch at her midsection. She sidestepped smoothly, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to throw him to the ground.
Before she could make the most on her advantage, Maine and Wyoming were back on their feet, charging at her from either side. Tex dropped into a low crouch, sweeping her leg out to trip Wyoming and then springing up to deliver a powerful uppercut to Maine. He staggered back, shaking his head to clear the stars from his vision, then promptly fell over.
“Round over. Point, Texas. Hand-to-hand combat complete. Now resetting the floor for lockdown paint scenario.”
Tex stood in the center of the training room, breathing heavily, her heart pounding with exhilaration. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the thrill of combat making her feel more alive than ever.
And she loved it.
There was no better feeling in the world than this. The violence, the control, the sheer, unadulterated power. It was intoxicating.
Omega thrummed in her mind, sheer joy radiating off him. He even put a little kick in her step as she pointed her paint gun at Maine, firing off three shots and covering him with it, his armor locking up immediately.
There was a growl coming from under his mask, and it sent a thrill down her spine. She wanted to push him, see how far she could go before he finally snapped. There was something a little romantic about it, she thought.
“Enjoying yourself, Agent Texas?” Omega’s voice was smooth and almost teasing in her mind.
“More than you know ,” she murmured, her eyes glinting with a dangerous light.
-
“After eight rounds, the score is 0-8. Advantage, Texas.”
As F.I.L.S.S. begins the countdown for the next round, she hides behind a pillar on the far left of the training room, ready and waiting for—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
She can barely think before Omega forces her body to move, running from the shattering pillars as the familiar sound of live rounds rings throughout the facility. Her heart races as she dives for cover, rolling behind a nearby barricade.
The barricade doesn't even last two seconds before it breaks.
“Live rounds? Are you kidding me?” Tex muttered, her grip tightening on the paint gun. “Omega, what the hell is going on?”
“Keep moving, Agent Texas.” Omega replied calmly, almost amused but still stern.
Tex sprinted across the room, paint gun clutched tightly in her hands. She zigzagged to avoid the live rounds, the adrenaline pumping through her veins—
“Look out—!”
She finds herself face to face with York, gun pointed directly at his helmet. His hands are slightly in the air, a peace gesture. “Hey, I’m trying to help!”
“I don’t need your help !” She snaps, emotions boiling over because how dare these motherfuckers pull a shitty move like this . “ Never abandon your team!”
Suddenly, Wyoming jumped up on the pillar Tex was hiding behind and started firing at them. Tex quickly pushed York aside, raising her paint gun and firing several shots at Wyoming. The paint splattered across his visor, blinding him as he fell over and she gripped his chestplate, throwing him across the floor.
Maine charged at her, his fist raised as he aimed for her jaw. Tex jumped up, her foot connecting with his helmet in a powerful kick that sent him stumbling back. She landed lightly on her feet, immediately raising her paint gun and firing at Maine’s hand. The paint splattered and locked his hand against a pillar, immobilizing him.
Just as she turned, a sharp pain exploded in her arm. She hissed in pain, glancing down to see blood trickling from a gunshot wound. Wyoming stood a few feet away, a live round still smoking in his gun.
That MOTHERFUCKER —!
Without a second thought, she charged at Wyoming, her fist connecting with his throat. He gasped, clutching his neck, but Tex didn’t give him a moment to recover. She kneed him in the stomach, the force of the blow making him double over as she punched the back of his helmet.
She barely noticed York approaching from the side, trying to intervene.
“Hey, don’t—” York grabbed her shoulder, and without hesitation, she swung her fist, connecting with York’s jaw and sending him reeling. She grabbed him by the collar and flipped him over her shoulder, slamming him onto the ground.
York groaned, the wind knocked out of him as he lay sprawled on the floor.
Tex turned back to Wyoming, who had only just gotten up before she fired her paint gun at him repeatedly. Just before his armor hardens completely, she charges at him, grabbing him by his helmet and sending him halfway through a pillar, nearly splitting it in the process.
York is struggling to get up, and just as she's walking over to him, Maine rips his fist out of the paint, barreling towards them. He rams into the pillar Wyoming is stuck in, breaking it completely as the debris flies towards them.
Tex ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the flying debris. She came up on one knee, her paint gun aimed at Maine. She fired rapidly, covering his armor in paint, the force of it pushing him back.
She used the opportunity to spring to her feet and deliver a powerful kick to his chest.
The force of the blow sent Maine flying backward, crashing into the far pillar with a resounding thud. He kneels there, and something in his hand catches her eye. She can’t quite figure out what it is before suddenly it's thrown towards them. Terribly.
Tex’ finally realized it's a frag grenade only as it soars through the air, side stepping it with a scoff.
Until she sees where it landed and her heart stops.
York was directly in its path, struggling to get up from the earlier debris of the broken pillar. He had no idea there was a live grenade just inches from him.
“Hey!” She yells, but it's not quick enough and panic surged through her veins. Her arm throbbed painfully, the wound from the gunshot stings like a son of a bitch making it nearly impossible to move and—
She won’t reach York in time.
Without thinking, she made a split-second decision. She raised her paint gun, aiming directly at York. Her finger squeezed the trigger, and she fired several shots of the lockdown paint at him. The paint splattered across his armor, hardening almost instantly.
The grenade exploded, the shockwave sending both Tex and York sprawling to the ground.
“Medical Team on route.” was the only thing she heard before her eardrums were enveloped with a loud ringing.