The Director looked over the agents with hidden curiosity. They were all either quiet or engaging in mindless chit-chat to pass the time. The Director smiled as he looked over the files that were on his desk. "Jacob Huntington? Dull background to the collection of people here. But still someone to keep an eye on. Counselor, what happened to the last shipment of experimental weapons. Binary rifles? Was that there name?"

The Counselor looked at his PDA and sighed. "I am sorry to report sir but they are currently in rebel hands, they ambushed the delivery ships and stole the cargo."

The Director slammed his fist down on the table making the Counselor jump. "God damn it! These rebels stealing everything I try to get delivered! No matter. A perfect first mission for our new recruits but training time first. Then mission briefs."

Pressing a button on his desk a woman's voice spoke out across the large hall, the voice had a robotic tinge in the way it spoke as she addressed the Agents in the large hall, who had now gone quiet.

"Welcome you are one of 49 elite military members who have been chosen for the new Freelancer project. We hope that you have gotten your self comfortable to listen to this recording as you will need to listen very carefully.

You will no longer be know by your Civilian names, instead you will be addressed by your new code names. Which will have already been assigned. This must be used at all time this is for your safety! Before entering live combat you will be hooked up with various armour enhancements and an extremely Valuable AI. This AI is suited to you and will help you use your new abilities safely and efficiently.

Working together is crucial to completing your objective and scoring high in the leaderboards. The leaderboards track your personal progress throughout your missions. No matter where you are on the leaderboard you will not be treated any differently, these leaderboards are for The directors and the boards so don't worry about them. There are a few rules that must be followed:

• AIs must not communicate with each other.
• No contact to the outside is allowed via any mode of communication.
• Use of live weapons or abilities unless inside a training zone or on a mission is prohibited.
• Obey any orders given to you by the Director or Counselor.

Thank you for your patience the Director will now address you".

The Directors voice followed the woman's after a short pause, he had made his way down to the center stage while the presentation was going.

"Good morning agents. To assess who is going to be implanted with what A.I. we will begin this morning with a round of sparring. We will be assessing how you fight and act individually and together. Your opponents will be military grade robots with military A.I.. You will be outnumbered two to one so take this into account. Please make your way towards the training facility now."

The training facility in question was a large room filled with a simulation battle environment made to look like an abandoned village. All the agents would be able to use live round but their armour abilities would be disabled. Their opponents stand at the other side of the room, black suits of armour armed with simulation rounds that pack a hell of a punch but are not lethal.

Washington was the first in, looking at situation he grimaced. "Man, robots punch like heavyweight boxers and take as much punishment as a tank. Not fair."

Once all the agents were in a horn buzzed signaling the start of the exercise. The robots jumped to life taking up defensive position and throwing smoke grenades in front of them to cover their advance and Advance they did. Slowly moving forwards preparing to engage whoever got close.

Washington looked over at the rest of the agents. "Hey guys and gals names Washington, these robots are going to be a bitch to take down. Word to note they'll keep on going even if you knock of their heads. They can take information from other bots to see so if one sees you they all see you. Only reason I know so much about these bastards is this ain't my first rodeo with them. Got stuck in a training simulator with two of them, they beat me good. So don't get caught and if you do have to hit them then hit them as hard as you fucking can! Apart from that..."

Washington pulled the pin on a grenade. "Have fun!"

Vaulting over the wall he had been hiding behind he threw the grenade into the crowd of machines. They jumped away from the grenade and Washington was there to meet them blasting one in the arm with his AR he was met with a punch to the gut sending him flying over a wall. "Son of a bitch!"

Raising his gun he let of a few bursts into the nearest bot taking it down before being hit by another robot on his left shoulder. Knocking him prone.

Maine listened carefully to the instructions, looking at his dark green freelancer suit. He had taking off the brush cover on it for a more sleek look, seeing as they would be doing training today. There was no shrubbery to really blend into. Cleaned his rifle, scanning through the other freelancers. They were the best of the best alright, some more than others, of all shapes and sizes. He didn't have to worry about taking them on it seems, just computed AI. They had an algorithm and a systematic way of doing things, but he didn't know how good these AI were. He would let the cannon fodder, or his teammates, sort that out.

As he got his armor enhancements, although disable, an AI was programmed into him as he saw a green figure materialize on his shoulder.

"Hello. I am Delta, your AI."

"Oh, so you can talk?" I think aloud in my head, looking at the hologram.

"Yes, I can talk Agent Maine. I am the AI designed for logic. I will be giving you combat feedback to make the best logical decisions on the battlefield to insure mission success and survivability."

"Oh. Sounds like my kind of AI. So, are you just going to be in my thoughts forever like this?"

"No, I am here for when you need me agent Maine, mostly in combat and any other critical situations. If you would like, I can also give advice."

"Alright, thanks Delta. Let's get into the training room and assess these bots. They say the leaderboard doesn't mean anything, but regardless it would probably be efficient to be near the top."

"That is a logical guess."

"So it's true?"

"I'm not sure, but I said it was a logical guess."

"Did they program you with sarcasm?"

"Not intentionally."

Maine set up near the back of the arena, laying down and adjusting his anti-material rifle as he scoped in to the robots. They seemed pretty resilient, and there would be 98 it seemed. From what Washington was telling us, head shots wouldn't kill them, so it looks like the upper chest would do the trick with the sniper. A useful bit of information. Once the battle begun, smoke grenades were dispatched right away as the robots charged forward under cover.

Maine looked through his scope, unable to see through the smoke as his tactical vision was disabled. "Now where are they..."

"The majority of the agents will most likely engage in CQC, maintaining focus of the AI. Since they relay information instantly, you will be able to shoot two rounds before your location is pinpointed. I would suggest moving position after your second shot and to repeat the process while the others hold the front line. If they invade the back line, use your smoke screen as cover and regroup as to not get surrounded." Delta announced, having Maine blink a few times.

"Wow, you are good." Maine said amazed, wondering where the heck they got these AI from.

"Focus on the targets making progress into the back lines and any other enemy snipers supporting from long range. I have calibrated your computer in your sniper into my system, and I'll calculate each shot automatically for you. When you do take your shot, I will increase your adrenaline and reflexes and slow down heart beat and breathing for a more precise shot."

"Affirmative." Maine whispered, slowly taking this all in. Although control over these aspects of his body and weapon were a little unnerving, the AI seemed to know what it was doing.

The smoke was clearing as a single AI seemed to try to burst from the initial line, vaulting and attempting to punch a fellow freelancer. It was almost too quick, but time seemed to slow down slightly as he was able to line up the shot and fire, like it was in slow motion, but he was moving at normal speed.

A burst from the rifle shot out, suppressed by the muzzle as the thin bullet whizzed through the air at lightning speed. It ripped clean through the robot, blowing a huge hole in it's chest with it's head falling off as it crumbled to the ground. The bullet even went through the robot, piercing one or two others through the arm and imbedding itself in the back of the arena.

A small smirk appeared on Maine's lips as he resumed in rifle, picking out another target. This was going to make sniping a whole lot more fun.

"So, you said I had one more shot left right?"

"Yes, I told you that earlier Agent Maine."

"Sigh... just, never mind."

California stood off near the side of the group, arm folded as he listened to the Counsellor's and Director's instructions eagerly. Finally, the chance came to prove his strength and combat prowess within the Freelancer Program. Getting to smash up some tin cans sounded fun. As more and more of the details for the exercise were given, the wider and wider Arthur's grin got beneath his Soldier class helmet. Arthur looked around as he saw the other agents gear up after the instructions had ended. He turned to his weapons, which he gleefully picked up checking over his pride and joy, "The Answer" SAW variant. He had painted it himself, a skull with it's mouth open at the barrel, with the rest of it painted black with various slanderous terms and symbols. He did not give a fuck about censorship. It was then that his own AI made first contact with him.

"Hi!" An energetic female voice said.

"Yo!" Arthur replied in his head with equal amounts of enthusiasm. "You the AI thingy?"

"Yup! I'm combat ready, California!"

"Good! I don't know your name though. But you already know mine." He replied curiously.

"Oh! Silly me! I'm Chi. If the Director decides, I will be your permanent AI."

"Neat, never had a permanent voice in my head........ arguably...." He commented.

Once everyone was ready, the exercise began and the combat robots were released. The guy who seemed to had experience gave a pep talk or something before engaging the enemies. He seemed to be in a spot, so California decided to assist Washington. He strafed to the other freelancer's direction, spraying his explosive rounds into the smoke and crowd of robots.

"You're coming up on the agent, California! Another ally is providing sniper fire for the agent." Chi advised as she recognised that Arthur's focus was on attempting to empty his first clip of rounds. California acknowledged the callout, and gave a thumbs up to the apparently skilled sniper. Another robot dashed from the smoke, attempting to engage Arthur.

"Duck!" Chi called out in his head. Arthur complied, barely dodging a solid punch to the helmet. "Their head armour isn't as strong as the rest of them. Take it out!"

"Right!" He said. California spun about 180 degrees, before extending his arm out to clothesline the metal can, decapitating the head right through the neck.

"Keep attacking! Not down yet!"

Cali slammed the barrel of The Answer into the chest and completely buried the last five rounds of his drum magazine into the stomach of the robot. He shrugged away the scrap heap before looking at the other agent he originally set out to help, lifting him up by the shoulder. "You okay?"

Montana half heartily listened to the instructions. All he cared about was when they would be breaking some bones. He didn't have to wait long it seemed as they were told they were going up against some military robots. He sighed in his helmet, slightly dissappointed that they weren't real soldiers to test on but it was going to have to do.

One of the other recruits, Washington, came forward briefly giving information on the robots before all hell seemingly broke loose. He laughed at Washington shortly after he was sent flying by one of the bots.

"Come on you can't take a hit?" he said to his fallen comrade that in hindsight he would realize was stupid as one of the other units slammed their fist into his chest having him skid across the floor and hit one of the barriers.

"I take it back," he groaned out getting up and zeroing in on the bot that had hit him."All right lets see how many screws and bots hold you together." He brought his shotgun out and ran forward aiming for the head, he blew the bots head off. He focused his attention on another robot, trying the same thing but it dodged and swept him off his feet with its legs."Right they learn, got to remember that." He hit the ground with his fist in frustration as he got up living a slight dent in the ground ",Well I wanted a fight, guess I have one now."

Washington's head was spinning inside his helmet. Picking himself off the ground he grabbed his rifle which had landed next to him. "That really hurt!" Checking his ammo count he dusted of his armour. "Let's rock and roll baby!"

Charging forward he let loose with a volley of bullets into his robotic enemies. Switching to his Sticky grenade launcher he fired it into the first robot he came across. It stuck to its torso, giving it no time to react he switched back to his rifle and stabbed it in the back and charged into a group of robots. One got a kick on him loosening his grip on the robot the blade in its back sliding out and sending him flying over a wall.

Pulling out the detonator he smiled. "Scrap metal it is then fellas." Pressing the detonator the stuck robot exploded. Due to the robots being so bunched the damage blew two into pieces the other two from the group that attacked him were missing an arm or head but were relatively undamaged. They replied to his attack by reaching for him from behind the wall and picking him up from the ground by the neck.

"Oh come on, you're even worse then the last time! Little help guys?!"

Ohio was sitting on a bench half-heartedly polishing her helmet, she didn't need to listen to the instructions, she'd seen something like this many many times over. Problem was, she sucked at these little exercises, something about killing people and even aliens was just so much easier. Not to mention her HSR was pretty much useless against non-organic matter, she could effectively destroy their comms and radio-wave broadcasting, which eliminated most machinery without on-board AI, but they had no brains to liquefy. Liquefy being the wrong word but it was pretty damn close and Ohio wasn't particularly interested in how it worked.

Ohio frowned slightly as her AI projected itself on her shoulder, Gamma, she didn't like him much and even though he was just a computer code she felt the feeling was mutual. That aside they were a good match, they were probably chosen because the director knew they wouldn't get along great. Gamma was a liar and a traitor with a lot of potential to harm, most people wouldn't be able to see that especially because Gamma was still so young and had exhibited so little of his 'personality.' It really took one to know one. Ohio also had the so called 'advantage' of having had her AI implanted a few days earlier than most, with some not even having any AI yet at all. She suspected that had to do with her AI's ability, a kind of time loop that let her try again and again until she got it right. Or in a recent case, until she survived. Since her AI would automatically start a loop if she was fatally injured. Ohio was pretty sure what she'd been through was the reason things are only supposed to die once. It was really the stuff of nightmares, as horrible as it had been at least she wasn't dealing with it for the first time now. Aside from that it really ruined the idea of organized religion for her because if she had been experiencing actual death, then they were all totally hilariously wrong.

"Agent Ohio, we are starting a training mission soon are you ready?" His voice was like those really old robotic ones, before they figured out how to make them work better. Choppy, stiff, emotionless.

"Do I look ready?" She chuckled, putting her helmet on and sealing it.

"I have complete confidence in you. The chances of fatality are designed to be very low, no death-loops."

"Gamma, don't lie to me, we just met. You trust me as far as you can throw me, and you're literally a hologram so that puts us at square 0. Or like negative one. It's totally fair, I was kind of a dick yesterday. Dying a bunch just puts me in a bad mood." She sighed and began to check over her hand guns. The others were beginning to move out.

"Yes that was rather apparent after the string of expletives you directed at the administrators."

"If they try that again without telling me, and I won't do it in a time loop. It will be 100 percent organic, gluten-free murder." Ohio muttered as she carefully watched her new team mates getting to work.

"Agent Ohio, excuse my directness, but now you are the one lying. Also murder is not a food so it can't have or be free of gluten." His blue form flickering, just at choppy as his voice

Ohio rolled her eyes, "Ok, yes but its a revenge fantasy. Humans love them, have them all the time and if they tell you they don't they're a damn liar. Everyone has wanted to get back at someone at some point, the world isn't full of Gandhis and Martin Luther Kings, its a lot of normal people with a lot of normal flaws. Just ignore the gluten bit, I don't think you're going to get the joke." She was standing now, looking for her entrance into the fight.

"I'm sorry I don't know who either of those people are but am I correct to assume they are morally superior to the average human?"

"Really? You guys didn't get a basic history lesson from before the war? Yeah sure morally superior or whatever, Christ if you were human you would have thought that sounded cool but now its just weird." Her eyes were locking on to specific target zones, "You know what forget it, I don't have time to teach you 20th century history right now." Gamma nodded and flickered out of sight. With that she was darting on her way to help Washington who already had a robot half strangling him.

Ohio carefully made her way through the robot carnage. Carefully in the sense that she was booking it as fast as she could while avoiding getting hit by one of the robots. She charged at the robot from behind, wrapping her arm around its neck in a tight hold while keeping her other hand free for a knife.
@Nytefall
"Ok so Wash, can I call you wash? You know what I'm going to call you Wash and you'd better not have a problem with it because I'm trying to help your ass. Anyway, listen, big guy over there," She gestured with the knife at California, "has the right idea, you gotta go for the head but if you're like me, or you for that matter, and aren't a human bear you can't exactly crush their heads with your bare hands." She shouted over the explosions and thrashing of the robot, trying to get her to let go.

"See what people like us do Wash, is we improvise." She grinned as she plunged her knife between a small gap in the armor plates of the neck. "The interesting thing is that we humans tend to make things that are like humans, that's the self-obsessed way we are. So a lot of these vital wires are in the neck, like a human's spinal cord. Which means all you have to do is get the knife in here and shake it around a bit." She demonstrated by violently twisting and moving the knife in a kind of back and forth pattern. Some smoke and a few sparks came from the area her knife had sunk into but the robot was already letting Go of Washington as well as beginning to spasm uncontrollably. Ohio let go and gave the robot a hard shove to the ground.

"Sadly it's not totally dead cause its equivalent of a brain is still there but I've severed its ability to control it's limbs and most functions below the neck. Now it just sort of flops around like a fish. It's kind of sad actually." She said, cocking her head and watching the robot. This moment of lapse however almost cost her as she barely dodged a punch that cracked the wall she was standing in front of. "Well points for enthusiasm on that one." She said with a short laugh before trying to repeat the process she had used on the last one, with a bit more difficulty as this robot was not already attacking someone else and was able to try much harder to throw her off.

So, it seemed a lot of idiots were running around the battlefield. Freelancers were throwing grenades, shooting people, getting pelted by non-lethal bullets and being thrown around like rag dolls. Maine couldn't help them all out, but it wasn't life or death either. Besides, this was mainly about him showing off his skills.

Another shot ripped through a line of robots, taking apart at least three as the high velocity bullet ripped through them like butter, after carefully calculating the shot of course. Knowing it wasn't safe to stay there any longer, Maine picked up his rifle, stood up and starting sprinting to a new position.

"There seems to be a scuffle between your Freelancer Allies, 10 o'clock. It looks like they might want some sniper cover." Delta spoke, pointing over to where Ohio, California, and Washington were.

"Alright, I guess saving allies might score me points. Or at least brownie points with the others. Where's a safe place to set up where I can get a good angle?" Maine thought in his head, diving behind a barrier.

"20 meters to your right, you can lay down next to that wall there and get a good aerial view of the situation. It should provide decent cover as well."

Making sure the coast was clear, main jogged over to the spot, laying down prone with his tripod out as he settled into position. Breathing slowly out, Delta adjusted the computer on his sniper as Maine looked through the scope. It seemed Washington was picked up by a robot, before Ohio jumped on it's back and jammed a knife to it's throat. Now a robot was on her, a punch barely missing her.

Maine held his breath, his finger resting on the trigger as the reticule lined up dead center to the thing's chest. Right as he saw this, he noticed out of the corner of his scope that a robot was holding a grenade near California and Washington, looking to chuck it there way. He would have to make a decision... or would he?

He felt his heart rate slow, only the sound of his heartbeat was audible to him as he let a slow breath out. His finger hit the trigger, a bullet leaving the barrel aimed at the chest of the robot in front of Ohio. About a few milliseconds later, the reticule was moved and the computer adjusted by Delta as a second bullet ripped through the air.

Almost immediately after, the first bullet cut clean through the robot's chest, blowing it apart with it's head flying to the side as what was left of it dropped in a heap. A split second after a billet sailed narrowly past Washington and California, going through the grenade that the second robot was going to throw. It exploded in it's face, blowing off it's head, it's arm, and part of it's body as it got propelled backwards and on it's ass.

"Nice job Delta." He smirked, smoke curling from the silencer of the semi-automatic sniper as Delta turned around on his shoulder.

"Incoming." Was all he heard before he felt himself get picked up by his back, being hurled across the stadium and through a wall, his rifle spilling out of his hands a few feet away from him. He groaned, grabbing his head.

"Ouch... why didn't you say anything?"

"I said incoming."

"Yeah, right before he threw me through a wall."

"I am not physically capable of stopping that from happening, agent Maine."

"So I noticed..." Maine groaned, coughing as he slowly got up, the robot slowly marching towards him like a bad terminator movie.

California smirked at Ohio's @Sapphire, quite frankly, flattering comments. "Heh, maybe I should try that..." He replied to the white armoured woman. He didn't have time for sneaking about and worrying about trying to be noticed. In his previous line of work as a Merc, plans that involved staying quiet ALWAYS went wrong, so why bother in the first place?

"If you're gearing up to fight, gear up right."

That was the motto he was taught by his old commander. However, those days were behind him... and the ideas of stealth being useful did get into his stubborn head... somewhat. Back into the fight, Arthur began to reload his SAW, leaving the empty magazine to clatter on the ground before sliding in and securing the second clip of rounds. It was then when Ohio re-engaged with another enemy. She can take care of herself.

"California! More enemies on the right! Also... that sniper just went real far, real quick..." Chi chirped into his ear.

Shit... tangoes approaching and another freelancer just got knocked on his ass. California had to think quick. And the idea he got had to be put into place... but it was really fucking stupid too... California shrugged and decided to roll with it. He holstered his gun and pulled out his grenades, one in each hand. "Guys... cover me..." He said to Washington and Ohio. California sprinted off into the group as fast as he could, barrelling into the small crowd of robots. He bowled some over, and desperately fended off the couple still standing as he unpinned his grenades and dropped them into the crowd. Still making progress, Cali stepped away with only one grabbing onto his forearm. The Spartan grabbed the robots arm and swung them both away from the blast radius, performing what is technically called an "Irish Whip" as he sent the robot tumbling into a nearby wall.

He used this created opportunity to get away from the dropped grenades, set to go off at any moment. California grabbed the rifle belonging to Maine @Superman and used the end of it to bludgeon the robot walking towards the groggy Agent. California tossed the sniper back to him. "Here!" He shouted. The robot was not fazed at all, and landed a swift kick into the Bear's back, sending him reeling away. "Fuck!" He yelled as he got spun into the direction of another combat robot, who used the opportunity to uppercut Arthur on the chin. "Shit!" He said again as he got effectively pinballed between the two. He regained his balance and looked over his shoulder as he jutted his elbow out into the chest of the previous robot, turning around and delivering a textbook right hook into the robot's temple. However, the other robot wrapped it's metallic arms around Arthur's waist, who tossed him into the wall Maine just got tossed into.

"Bastard! Fuck!" He cursed again.

---

The group moved in synchronisation, one behind the other like a conga-line...If a conga line was armed with heavily loaded weaponry and explosives. One by one, they moved to their destination, a doorway locked between the inside and the downpour that spread on the outside. Yet, Grant wasn't among their ranks, as for one. He was placed elsewhere, with a view quite remarkable. Masked mostly by the rainfall and the darkness of the night, he gripped his Designated Marksman Rifle, blankly keeping a straight face when staring at the sights of both his and his comrades' successful takedowns. A pitter-patter of downpour tricked and mixed between a blood-stained concrete floor, creating a red, oozing solution against the walls. Once they were inside, Grant would have to depart, having no use inside with his weapon.

He could see them, moving step by step and rippling the puddles with each additional pace. Remarkable to see how they'd come so far, his brothers, sisters and comrades. When he grew up within the Insurgents, they were little-more than small time fighters, barely surviving the encounters they got into. But now, they were trained, armed and fitted out with appropriate weapons to even kill a Spartan if used correctly. They were growing in size, becoming an issue for the UNSC and other insurgent groups. That was their goal, to cause themselves to be noticed. It was so they could shift the focus of the UNSC occupation forces to those civilians in need, which were receiving little to none. And now the-

A sound fractured his thoughts. It sounded like heavy boots, from directly behind him. Grant was already laying down on his front, soaking up his combat vest into the watery walls of the UNSC FOB. He could hear boots coming closer, as he rolled onto his back quickly, DMR facing towards the sound. Yet, before he could react and pull the trigger, a sight of shock came to him...In the form of a Shock Trooper...A Orbital Drop Shock Trooper...A squad of or-...You get the fucking point.

Four of them, encircled around him, all with guns aimed at his chest. Now, everything seemed to stand still. The rain continued to splatter against the helmets of the ODST specialists, as well as the Rebel attire of Grant, but not one uttered a word. At least for the moment in time. They all stared at each other, blankly through visors and heads up displays, before eventually Grant broke the moment of silence and awkwardness.

"Hey guys...I think I saw the Rebels go that way." He couldn't help but grin underneath his own visor, but the ODST didn't see the funny side of it, one of the central soldiers placing their heavy boot against his chest to keep him on the floor, the other leg kicking away the DMR in his hand. The silence retained for a small while longer, and yet it remained awkward and painful for the rebel on the floor. His voice coughed and gargled under the weight of the ODST specialist. Grant's hand slowly made way for his boot-knife, ironically not located in his boot. No one would suspect it, would they? "Hey...Hey...I can get you court-marshalled for that...Or I could..."

Without warning, he brought his blade up quickly, injecting it into a gap between the ODST specialist's armour, on the leg that was pressed against his chest. The man, as identifiable by his voice, stumbled backwards limping away before Grant had a chance to regain control of his knife. Before he could react, putting on an action-hero style beat-down on the ODST soldiers, the butt of a firearm smacked into his face, driving him into a cold and dark abyss known as being unconscious...

---

---

"Ahh...Bloody porridge inside the prison? Can we please hire someone who didn't drop out of cooking school to make us meals?" Grant called from his cell. The charred bowl he held in his hands reeked of disappointment and failure whilst a gloopy substance someone categorised with food begged to be indulged. It was a sad time. Here, he could be, roaming free in a field with butterflies and rainbows, when instead he was sitting in what was the equivalent to the testicle-sweat of the UNSC Fleet.

There used to be a room-mate for Grant, but he was either released or moved to another cell for the rebel apparently making jokes about rape...Who knew that his jokes sounded like legitimate threats to other prisoners? Grant wasn't the strongest lad in the block, nor the prison at all. He was like the scrawny guy who gets by slipping between the big lads and hitting them from behind. But in all honesty, Grant did not like fighting in the prison at all. It felt wrong, much like what half of his insurgent actions were like to himself. And now, he was sitting in an orbital prison, without even a window view of the world outside.

Could you really call it outside? It was more of an emptiness right? The vacuum of space being some sort of...Y'know what, this was getting far too deep and annoying for someone of the likes of Grant. Sure, he was an extremely intelligent lad, but Grant wasn't known for sitting on his arse and thinking too much. He was more of a reactions-kinda guy? Or something like that. Usually distance was his ally in combat, but he wasn't going to be seeing anymore of that in a while.

Until the gate to his own cell opened, and two guards, accompanying a smartly dressed man, looked at him. They were silent at first, staring at the peculiar man. He did not look anything like the other people in the prison cells. He was tall, skinnier, though not lean, and very well presented, save for a small stubble and ruffled hair. The two met eyes, in a non-romantic way, and shared thoughts, both questioning one another inside another.



The fighting had commenced, and immediately, Grant dove for cover at the furthest distance he could gain. It was time for a little surveying. He brandished his new armour, with his new alias, and his shiny new weaponry. Holstered onto his back, a M6C and M6MP, both kitted with custom wrist grips, remained on guard for use. His hands held a very modified DMR, with the ability to praise attachment modification and ammo types. He scanned the battlefield ahead, despite it being a scenario.

It was littered with moving bodies. Both attacking the bots and being thrown about like children's toys. It was humorous, to say the least, but he knew that he'd be in the same situation if he did not think this through. He noticed the bots all fighting differently, depending on who they fought. Turns out they had similar thoughts, or programming in this case, as to Iowa. He knew what they were doing, though. Adapting to the similar military or brute force tactics. Well, to combat someone who learns your strategies, you'd have to keep changing your own one. Iowa was blessed to know he could deal some damage with this in mind.

Before he began to raise up to new heights, a voice called out in his helmet, causing him to jump and almost lose his balance from where he stood statically. It came as a surprise to him, definitely.

"Agent Iowa, that location is already occupied. However, there are many other points to gain a marksmanship position from." He looked around him, checking it wasn't just another voice near him. But Iowa knew this sounded differently, much like the...It was the artificial intelligence that he was promised back at the Prison and through his beginning days as a Freelancer. And now, he was fighting alongside all of these other individuals, all with their own additions and AIs to put to use. "Your silence is not comforting, Agent Iowa. Allow me to stimulate your senses, perhaps now you won't be so hesitant."

"Bah, I am not prepared for a voice in my head..." Iowa called to himself. He had to admit, the UNSC had some really interesting gear to play around with. He wished he stuck around stealing their stuff more often to get this for his friends of the past. "Alright...Alright...So I just got...A weird feeling...But I guess I know what you mean...Lemme just study them for a sec'."

Iowa's eyes darted between the areas of the training zone, looking between the robots to see weaknesses. It seemed that they were vulnerable to heavy, continuous punishment, as well as single, hard-hitting rounds from large weapons. But he didn't have large weaponry. However, the first, he did have access to rapid fire. He upholstered his M6MP, and quickly snapped on the wrist guard. It tightened itself around his armour, remaining in his hands. Wonderful fit, and wonderful trigger size. It fitted like a glove...A glove that was filled with dangerous projectiles...

He threw himself over the wall he hid behind, moving around carefully to find a singled out robot. It was easy to start from the rim and make his way inside where the heavy resistance would be. And just as his luck, the AI in his mind spotted it.

"I forgot to add...My name is Sigma, your advanced AI assigned to you specifically by the Director. I like long walks on the beach and country music..."

"Woah woah woah...Introductions later, blippy...And please tell me you were joking about the last one..." His AI responded quickly, as Sigma gave him a gentle shock.

"I was programmed to understand humour, quite significantly. Apparently it would suit your level of socialising, if your reports show up clear enough."

"Great...You have access to my reports..." He began to take strides forward, running towards the larger bot ahead of him. It had a small gap underneath its raised legs, as he slid down onto his knees, holding down the trigger on his weapon as he aimed it skywards. The bullets sprayed into the underside, before he halted on the opposite side of the bot. From here, he began unloading at the head of the bot, providing heavy and repetitive punishment until both he had to reload and the bot gave in to the pressure. Luckily, both happened at the same time. "Aha! Looks like your programme was just...Delete-"

Before he could finish his terrible excuse for a joke, a fist smacked him in the side, sending him sliding along the floor towards a group of other Freelancers. During his epiphany of sliding amongst the unclear floor of nuts and bolts, he came to realise that this was instant karma for the crimes he had made for the laws of humour and decent comedy...Eventually, he came to a stop when he swiped one of the Freelancer's off of their feet in a collision.

@Sapphire @GingerBoi123 @LetMeDoStuff

Washington chuckled. "Wash is fine."

Washington watched Ohio taking apart the droids it was like watching an expert engineer taking apart a car, so thorough.

"Problem is i'm much more close quarters with my rifle here, i'll show you".

Roaring in a battle cry he charged into the nearest robot stabbing the robot as hard as he could in the chest. The bayonet piercing the robot's chest and opening him as easily as a can opener. The bot grabbed for him wildly as Washington pulled the trigger filling it full of led. It arms went limp just as Washington reached the end of his mag. Grabbing his M363 he fired it at the bots moving towards California taking out two and clearing the way for him.

"Domo arigato, bitch." His sudden lapse of concentration rewarded him with a punch to the face knocking him off his feet and back onto the floor. "No more mister nice guy then".

Pulling out his M363 he fire it at the chest of the robot who had punched him in the face. Kicking the offending bot in the chest it stumbled backwards over some rubble as Washington rolled out of the way. Standing up he saw the bot recovering from the kick. Walking away from the robot he pressed the red button on the side of his M363 the bomb detonated blowing the robots torso clean off. "I'm going to call you the sticky launcher, not the best name but it's better then the M363 Remote Projectile Detonator."

As he was just getting to know his knew sticky buddy a body came flying out of nowhere sweeping him off his feet and sending him crashing to the floor. "Woah, bit yo gun ho there dude."

Standing up Washington surveyed the battlefield, he could only see a few of these robots left. A loud horn could be heard over the gunfire and agents shouts. The robots shut down and stood to attention on the spot. The Directors voice then sounded over the intercom.

"Alright Agents that enough, You are dismissed for today. Washington you are needed in the medical bay, as of this moment your armour abilities are now activated. Ensure you follow the rules any deviation will be punished harshly! Apart from this you are free to explore the installation, go to your room or mingle with the other agents. It's entirely up to you. However you will have a mission coming up soon so be prepared to move at a moments notice".

Washington reloaded his AR and placed it on the magnetic grip on his back. He did the same with his newly named sticky launcher which he placed instead on the back of his torso. "Well that was a bit nuts right? Those bots always manage to surprise me with their resilience to fire. Makes you wonder why they don't use them instead right?"

Washington did a double take. "Wait you all have A.I.? What the hell all you guys get the bells and whistles and i'm standing here with my dick in my hand looking like a jackass. Hope I get the good end of the stick with these A.I.s."



Leaving the training field he headed up to the medical bay. Before he was able to enter a female nurse said he would need to remove his armour and wear a surgical gown. "Already trying to get me out of my clothes cheeky girl".

His crude humor was met with silence. Feeling awkward he took the gown and got changed into it. Once he was changed he was told to lie down on a table. Washington never did like surgery rooms and he imagined that this would not be a pleasant experience. A mask was lowered round his face as surgeon gathered around him, after a few second he slept into unconsciousness and the surgeons began their work......

The butt of Montana's shotgun met the face of another robot."Will you just die all ready!" he exclaimed as the lights in the machine finally sputtered off ",About damn time, no game over today." He zigged and zag to cover to get his bearings as several other bots focused their attention on him.

"The fight grows weary, eliminate them," a low gravely voice stated.
"Not now Omega I'm busy and I'm working on it," Montana replied back peaking over the wall only to duck when a shot bouced off the barrier.

"All right then how about a bit of a bang," he said unstrapping a grenade and quickly jumping up and tossing it. Time seem to briefly stop as the bots looked at the grenade and Montana celebrated early. His celebration lasted only shortly as the grenade sailed over the bots to beyond an unoccupied barrier.

"That throws trajectory was pathetic," Omega stated to which Montana cursed at before finding new cover. The battle ended shortly after.

"Damn wanted to crush some more tin cans," Montana said with disappointed exiting the simulation room with the other freelancers.

It was all a blur after he got thrown through the wall, his rifle tumbling out of his hands as he clutched his head. He looked up to the robot walking towards him, backing up slowly as he reached for his BMR. As the robot got closer Delta looked over to his left, shaking his head. "I would put your hands up."

"What?" Maine got confused, stopping his motion as his hands were up near his face now. Suddenly another freelancer rushed in, knocking over the robot going for him and throwing him his rifle, which he caught. Huh, so the freelancer wasn't totally worthless after all. However, he did see that he was getting pinballed between two robots.

As soon as he raised his rifle to fire, another freelancer, Washington, shot the two surrounding California. Well... shit. Now there were no robots. Maine got up, dusting himself off as he looked around to address the situation.

"Behind you." was all Maine heard from Delta as he turned around, practically getting slide tackled by agent Iowa. Maine slipped forward, falling chest first into the ground as he looked up to what shoved Iowa at him. Maine rapidly flipped his trigger finger, busting all the remaining bullets in his clip into the chest of the robot in mere seconds, scrap metal flying everywhere as the robot crumpled in a heap, several bullets speeding into god only knows where.

"Watch it, Freelancer." Maine said coldly, getting up once again and sticking his rifle to the magnet on his back as he watched all the robots shut themselves off. Keeping all his equipment on, he marched without a word out of the training room and straight to the firing range, wherever that may be. He wanted to know what the scores on the leaderboard were, but those didn't seem to be posted yet. He wanted to train with his new equipment in the mean time, not so much caring for the other agents at the moment.

"Agent Maine, it seems as though your equipment is online and fully functional. This should help us in spotting targets in smoke, through walls, at far distances, as well as predict enemy movement for more precise shots." Delta explained, standing on his shoulder like usual.

"I got it Delta. Let's practice with the equipment and test it out."

"Alright. Do you think you should converse with the other agents first?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Well you are a part of a squad and should be working together. Teamwork will help you perform missions more efficiently and help performance levels."

"I don't trust half those guys, and it's not like idol conversation will do much. I'm used to working on my own. Besides, I'm pretty sure half these assholes were rebels and insurgents, prisoners of war let out to fight here. My job as ODST was to assassinate, capture, do surveillance on guys like that."

"Either way, agent Maine, basic conversation won't hurt."

"Fine... after training. Maybe." Maine grumbled, giving in to the AI. It seemed Delta was more sociable than he was, borededing on caring. Very talkative too. But he was right... getting to know his allies would help. Even if Maine thought he was better than half the people here. The one did help him. At the very least gaining some knowledge might have benefits in the future.

At the firing range, agent Maine layer down, setting up his tripod as he looked through the scope of his rifle. Targets appeared in the distance, human shaped ones, standing very far away as they started to move in random patterns at varying speeds.

"Tactical visor online, scanning targets... fire when ready Agent Maine."

After that, the only sounds that were heard were gun shots.

As all the Freelancers started to leave the training area, Utah, on the other hand went unnoticed inside a tall building within the designated space.

“What was the point of this, Agent Utah? We haven’t even fired a single shot.”

Zeta asked in a low gravelly voice as Utah looked through her DMR’s scope.

“I want to know what I’m dealing with, since I don’t just want to get tangled up in the mix; besides, sneaking around is also something we’re bound to do anyway.”

“And what are we dealing with, Agent Utah?”

“Based on my experience… A bunch of fuckups given suits, AI, weapons, and armor thrown into a group and expected to work together; nothing like the ODSTs I used to work with.”

Zeta then looked at her in his yellow floating form as Utah carefully surveyed each and every freelancer, not once taking her eyes off the scope.

“Do you think we’ll have any fun with them instead of these emotionless robots?”

Utah looked at Zeta, then tilted her head to look at the exit where the Freelancers were going through.

“No… Not at all… fuckups aren’t fun, in fact they’re as fun as shit hitting the fan---which by the way isn’t fun---besides, we need them although I hate to admit it; maybe when we're on a mission in a target rich environment though.”

Her lips parted into a smirk, a giggle escaping from inside her helmet. She lifted her DMR over her shoulder with one hand, allowing the other to hang off the side.

“You’re a "Fuckup" yourself, Agent Utah.”

She looked at Zeta and said, “Well better being fucked up than staying a virgin, am I right?”

Zeta took a pause as he processed what he had just heard.

“Your sense of humor according to my analytics program is, quote, as stale as a five week- old loaf of moldy bread, end quote.”

“Well damn, no need to be a stinker about it.”

Zeta then made the better decision of shutting himself down, leaving Utah with no one to talk to.

“Am I right, Zeta? Eh, Eh? Zeta?.... Are you… “Turned Off”?”

Utah waited for a moment, then she decided to crack off another one of her genius puns.

“Fucking rude, I’m sexy aren’t I?”

Utah laughed at herself for a while, reconsidered her poor life choices, then let out a deep sigh. “I’m a natural… I should get the hell out of here now though.” She then proceeded towards the exit of the training area.

“Let’s shake hands and make friends, shall we?”

She then proceeded to turn Zeta on again, her personality falling into a serious mind set, her demeanor completely changed.

“Have you stopped with your-“

Before Zeta could finish his sentence, Utah already knew what he was going to say.

“No more puns… We’re going to meet our new compatriots.”

The battle began to sputter to a stop around Ohio, that didn't stop her fellow agents from packing in as much uncoordinated and clumsy 'team work' as possible. Ohio's smile was hidden behind her opaque visor, she had missed working as part of a team. It had been quite some time since she had last worked with people she wasn't secretly ordered to kill or betray. It was likely she would betray them anyways as soon as she had an ulterior motive but for now they were all relatively on the same side. The simulation ended with a summons for Washington, from what she would gather he did not have an A.I. and it was likely he was getting one. She silently wished him luck as she watched him go.

"Hey Gamma," She said summoning the A.I. as she began to exit the field, "They said something about abilities, they're not talking about what you A.I.s do., are they?"

"No, they have activated the special abilities unique to each set of Freelancer armor. You were informed of this, you have active camouflage technology built into your suit. Furthermore, my abilities are active at all times, should you choose to use them." The small figure on her shoulder informed her.

"Well I won't be." She snapped, her tone defensive and tight. "It's nothing personal but for right now I think its better that I don't. Invisibility, right, I used something like this a few years ago on a mission, I hope they've improved the tech. It didn't work well back then, the mission came real close to going south. Command really thought I was a gonner."

"Obviously you survived and succeeded, your record indicates that you've never failed a mission. I have a feeling that even the extended record I was allowed to download, there is still much I am missing." Even through that robotic voice it was clear he was fishing for information.

Ohio sighed, "I've worked for a lot of different people Gamma, that's the thing about not settling in with a team or in a division, you get shifted and you get used a lot. Not only is compiling all that information from different sources a logistical nightmare, some of it can never go on any record. My assignments have also been a hodgepodge of all sorts of things, it wouldn't be much of a coherent record anyway." Ohio had wandered her way into some sort of observatory room that over looked the various training rooms, a control panel glowed softly on the other side of the room. It seemed as if the agents had some ability to control the simulations but as the director and the counselor were not here it was likely they had their own master control center. "My instincts are telling me to start looking into the other agents but this isn't one of my missions and we're using code names for a reason. I'd be willing to bet there's a lot more to most of these people than meets the eye. You don't end up in a program like this unless you really want to be or you really had no choice."

Gamma hesitated for a moment before resuming his robotic monotone, "Agent Ohio if you truly wish to find information I maybe of some assistance. I haven't been completely honest in my abilities, I have some ability to posses technology. I could find information in the computer systems on board if you upload my program. I trust you won't say anything to the director?"

"You don't trust me," She scoffed, "You just already know I'm not going to say anything." She paused for a moment, standing at a window over looking a shooting range where one of the other agents was already practicing. "So you could like posses a tank and use it by yourself?"

"Yes, that is one application."

"Or take over a computer system and pretend to not be an A.I."

"That would also be possible."

"Good to know, we'll keep that to ourselves. I don't think now is the time to start sniffing out the others skeletons, not till mine are well buried." She said quietly, her tone more cold and stiff, "We are a better match than I even anticipated, until we betray each other that is."

Gamma acted as taken aback as a glitchy hologram could, "Ohio believe me when I say-"

"Cut the crap, it's who we both are, we're on the same side now but as soon as we want different things we won't be. Neither of us are sacrificers, we just take things and take things until we get caught or get what we want."

"For a liar agent Ohio, you tell the truth more often than one would think." He waited a moment for a response but Ohio said nothing and after another moment of silence he asked, "If I may ask Agent Ohio, which group of freelancers are you in, those with no choice or those who made the choice?"

Agent Ohio sighed as if searching for an answer, "When someone in my line of work receives a message saying they don't have any missions for the foreseeable future along with a suggestion to join a program like this you do what they want. Its a question of loyalty. I don't suppose you have any knowledge of the book Catch 22, do you?" She didn't wait for a response, "Basically the out come I want is to live but the only way I can do that is by joining a program that will likely kill me, the point is I can't win." Gamma's processors seemed to be chewing on that so he didn't respond, Ohio continued watching Agent Maine, "Good shot that one, doubt he's got any people skills, he's actively not socializing."

"Agent Ohio I can't help but see the hypocrisy in that assumption." Gamma commented plainly. Ohio rolled her eyes inside her helmet and remained silent because the stupid little robot thing was right.

California grinned as he heard the exercise was now over, watching the rest of the robots power down. California's immediate response was to take of his helmet, letting his beard spring out and flicking his hair back. "Woo!" He exclaimed in exasperation. "Damn, that was some good exercise!" The freelancer commented. He rolled his shoulders as he walked out, rubbing his chin from the blow from the robot. Chi finally showed her form to California, sitting on his shoulder. Chi looked like a young girl with long hair, completely red and slightly see through.

"That looked like it hurt?" Chi noted, looking at California.

"Hmm... well, not as much as it should've. Before the Project, that would have knocked me out cold." He explained. "Did you have something to do with that?" California inquired. The girl puzzled for a bit.

"Well, kinda. I mean, you're like... a super soldier now so you've got the biological augmentations and the armour isn't made out of putty either, that's some hard metal you got encasing yourself. The AI explained. It seemed that California's AI did not share the common 'professional and toneless' dialect most other AI possessed. "But I do help you out too. I'm told I give you... uhm... adrenaline, yeah! And that hypes you up and, so says my data, can numb some pain as well."

"Yeah, adrenaline does that." He replied as he walked out of the training field. He took a good look at his new teammates. All by the books military hardasses to him. They'd all probably wanna stick to 'plans' and wouldn't enjoy his passion for 'combat improvisation' as he likes to call it.

"What? You don't like them?"

"Did you just tell what I was... nevermind. I'm not gonna ask questions about what I don't get. And no, Chi. It's not that I don't like them. They're all capable and probably just a bit of time before warming up to one another... but they'll probably not like me. I've been told I'm... reckless..." California admitted.

"Yeah... your files maaaaay have mentioned that." Chi giggled. Arthur shrugged.

"Eh, whatever." California laughed. He saw a freelancer that he... didn't see on the field. Weird... he saw everyone that participated... but not this one (@Liotrent). "Chi, who's that lady?"

"I dunno, I only have data on you. I think she's Zeta's Freelancer. But that's all I know. The AI's aren't allowed to talk to each other anymore." Chi said sadly.

"Huh, seems counter productive to do that... you bothered by it?" Cali asked. Chi merely nodded. "Huh, fuck it, I'ma talk to her." He said to himself before jogging up and waving his hand. "Yo! Recon armour!" He called out, using the only item of description he could recognize. "You, uhh, didn't get the memo? There was a training thing the Director ordered?" He asked, clutching his helmet between his arm and chest.

"Your fighting leaves much to be desired," The AI Omega stated as they left the training area ",Perhaps I should of been paired with a someone with better skills."
"Oh can it will ya," Montana snapped back, the AI giving a huff of annoyance in response ",Besides crushing metal isn't the same as crushing skulls. You'll see that I'm the best option."

"Indeed we shall see," the AI ended the conversation.

"You are just a ray of sunshine," Montana grumbled as he moved down the corridor ",Well at least the one thing I can credit you with Omega is that you're not the chatty type." When he didn't get a response Montana decided to best try and converse with one of the other freelancers. He decided to roam around until he just happened to bump into one of his teammates. He eventually entered an observatory room. Here there was another freelancer, briefly trying to remember who it was he eventually struck upon the name the armor match.

"Fancy meeting you up here Ohio," he greeted walking into the room.

As Utah was walking over to the exit, she heard someone yelling at her. She looked at California @GingerBoi123, the freelancer who was gesturing broadly at her by the large metal doors. He then proceeded to ask Zeta.

“Zeta, who’s that?”

“Data is insufficient…”

Utah then glanced over her shoulder to see the other freelancer, Iowa @Letmedostuff, still inside the Training area making his way to the exit.

“What about him?”

“Data is insufficient…”

“Well aren’t you helpful?... Ah fuck it I’ll just talk to ‘em; after that, let’s see if this place has a kill-house.”

Utah’s sarcasm didn’t seem to bother Zeta. Zeta was more of the reserved type of AI, which included not being very chatty, but when it came down to it, Utah and Zeta made a good match.

“Uh… Yeah, I heard, I was just up there…”

Utah pointed at her previous position with her free hand, while shouldering her DMR with the other. She proceeded to walk as she continued in conversation with California.

“It was a good place to watch the action from…”

Her words drooped with sarcasm, a stark contrast to her serious behavior no more than a few moments ago.

Brushing off her previous statement, she extended a hand promptly towards California, by way of greeting.

“Name’s Utah by the way, not ‘Recon Armour’.”

Washington woke up in his room, feeling disorientated and groggy. Getting up he massaged his pounding head. As he got up he noticed a movement on the end of his bed. Reaching for his gun he trained it on the end of his bed. "Come out, or you're gonna be in a lot of pain" A small blue replica of himself appeared. It had exactly the same armour on as he had but was no larger than a Pint glass.

"Hey there, sorry I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Epsilon."

Washington's eye were wide open as the blue man disappeared and reappeared on his shoulder.

"The Director implanted me inside a small chip located at the back of your head. You can if you wish remove me whenever you want. However the Director says that's a bad idea. It wont hurt your or anything, it's just The Director wants us in your heads all the time. He also had them activate your suits ability. You my friend have the ability of teleportation. You can move yourself or objects through spaces. It works in about a one mile radius. Please be aware that you cannot teleport big objects or more than one person if you try more than one you might end up leaving stuff behind. Like legs or internal organs."

Washington smirked as he put his armour back on. "Noted Epsilon. Tell you what buddy I think we're going to get along just fine."

"Hey Epsilon? Is my head supposed to hurt this much? Feels like someones pounding away at my helmet with a sledgehammer". Stumbling he made his way out of his room. A few staff moved out of the way as Washington bumped shoulders with them. "Sorry"

Epsilon spoke in a cheerful tone female tone. "Don't worry there pal, the pain is just your subconscious and mine becoming one. It's going to allows you to recall a lot of memories that your brain normally can't however-" An ear splitting scream filled his ear, Washington crashed through the door of the Canteen knocking over a bin as he cried out in pain. The noise stopped as suddenly as it had started. His ear ringing, Washington slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Epsilon? You there buddy?" A voice suddenly filled his head.

"But sir you have no idea what effects this will have on the A.I.. The A.I. was entrusted to you. It was going to help you with your research."

Washington recognised the next voice, it belonged to the Director. "That is right Corporal it was entrusted to me. Not you, not him. Me! You do well to know your place. Prepare the Architect. I've already had project freelancer accepted by the board of directors. I want the A.I. ready."

Then there was silence. Washington was now lying against the wall of the canteen. Epsilon appeared. "Sorry about that Wash, had to reboot. Some kind of bug in my system. Should be gone now. Wash? You alright."

"I just heard voices in my head"

Epsilon was silent for a moment. "Well then I'll have you booked to see the doc-"

"I'M NOT CRAZY! What I meant to say was. I heard the director talking to someone in my head, about something called the Architect"

Epsilon was silent again however this time when she spoke her voice was full of static and her speech was slow as if every word was a mile. "The Architect, I recognise that name for some reason. But I can't place my finger on it."

Washington sighed. "You don't have any fingers. It doesn't matter. As you said it was just a bug and it shouldn't happen again. Lets get something to eat." Looking at the bin he had knocked over he pointed at the first staff member that walked in. " Come on man pick up this mess you made!" The man confused began to clean up the mess that he thought he had made as Washington walked up to the canteen serving area chuckling as he did so.

Ohio had been silently admiring and judging Maine's abilities when Montana's somewhat lumbering approach caught her attention. Ohio looked away and tried to match to match armor colors to fake names for a second before taking a bit of a guess.

"Hey there, Montana, right?" She nodded in his direction and paused for a second tilting her head to the side before continuing, "I don't know what you did to get stuck with the code name Montana but I'm sorry for you." She laughed softly, "At least they didn't stick anyone with Florida, could be worse."

Ohio leaned on the window ledge, looking back into the training area. "I'd say they chose some pretty interesting people to spearhead this little science experiment. I mean look at Mr. Overachiever down there, practicing already. He's a damn good shot but I don't see how practicing that over and over again is going to make him better at anything else." It sounded as if she was talking mostly to herself as she continued to watch, "Think I should go down there?" she looked back at Montana, she had already made up her mind but asked for the sake of pleasantries.

@Sapphire@Argetlam350@Superman@LetMeDoStuff@GingerBoi123@Liotrent

Washington had finished the mountain of food that he had prepared for himself and had been about prepare another plate when the intercom came to life. The voice of the Director could be heard over the intercom. "All Agents are to report to the briefing room immediately. That is all"

Washington's shoulders sagged. Wiping his mouth he placed his helmet back on his head, Epsilon disappeared from the table as well. "Well fellas, it seems as though the mighty Director has called for are eyes and ears in the briefing room. Best not to disappoint him." Getting up off the bench he stretched his arm behind his head and burped. "Alright let's go then. Epsilon where is the briefing room?"

Epsilons voice chimed in reply. "Updating your HUD now.

Winking inside his helmet he followed the red dot that appeared in front of him. "Thank you Epsilon." It didn't take Washington long to get to the briefing room arriving he found the room empty being the first there. It didn't take long for the room to fill with agents. Once everyone was here the Director and his right hand man the Counselor entered the room. The room went quiet.

"Good afternoon agents of Project Freelancer. We are currently updating your A.I.s with the Mission brief as well as the location of your objective. You will leave at 22:00 hours and begin your mission. That is all, you are dismissed. The Director and the Counselor walked off the stage, leaving the room quiet for a moment as everyone's A.I.s explained the mission details.

"Alrighty Agent Washington got a tough mission coming up from my calculations there is a; 20% chance that you may die. However let's not think about that.

The mission is simple; Insurgent forces have attacked the Power plant on Research planet Delta-6B, they have sabotaged and disabled the nuclear reactor and have possibly overloaded the reactors core to critical levels. Their main objective seems to be disruption of the research facility located on the planet. We are to stabilize the reactor and rescue any survivors we find, eliminating any threats to the mission that may arise. There are several key characters involved in this attack:

George Relph: The Insurgents Second in command he is a deadly man who is skilled in many different martial arts.
Simmons Westford: Well known hacker. Wanted for Cyber Crimes as well as terrorism.
Finally there is Beth a Mercenary skilled with the Covenant Energy sword. She is known for using alien tech in battle and is possibly the most dangerous of the lot.

Apart from that there is a force of probably around 100 insurgents armed with various types of weaponry as well as Freelancer Armour abilities. It seems Agent Washington that your in charge of this mission. Best go up there and talk to the troops!

Washington nodded Stepping up onto the stage he motion to the agents to listen.

" Hey, I'm agent Washington and as you've heard I'm in charge of this mission and I, Have a plan! The only way we're going to beat these guys is with team work. I think a stealthy approach is necessary with a sprinkling of distraction and chaos to make the stealthy part easier. Maine you will be Overwatch and Sniper support. Your job will be to keep an eye on our enemies positions and also ours.

We will split into two groups. Myself, Agent California, Agent Montana and Agent Ohio will head to the reactor and ensure that it is stabilized returning power to the facility and to its defences. The research facility operates a Skeleton crew of about 12 scientist who use robots similar to the ones we fought for defence and manual labour. Once power is returned we will search for the Scientist.

The rest of you will work on distracting and drawing away the enemy from the reactor. That's you Agent Iowa and Agent Utah. Once the defences are back up the robots should help out making it easier to push back the Insurgents and force them off the planet or, wipe them out."

Taking a deep breath he looked at the agents. "Any Questions?"