Chapter 1 – Well … Here We Go Then
Ever wonder why we're here?
I stopped asking that, along with the how, years ago.
This is a written memoir of my story.
It begins one day while I was working in a military hospital in Damascus...
-It was a relatively normal night when 'it' happened. I was doing my rounds, checking on my patients in the ICU ward. We'd had a hectic morning when three Americans were brought in with critical injuries following a roadside IED detonation. So I was checking in on them to see if they could be sent to the regular wards yet. I was looking down at their files while walking into the room, so I didn't notice the change straight away. This isn't the ward? I thought to myself. It sure as shit looked like an apartment however. Wheeling around suddenly I noticed that the door I had just entered was different too. I quickly opened it and instead of the clinical, white walls of the hospital, I saw a hallway lined with what appeared to be apartment doors.
Closing the door behind me, I re-entered the room with a sigh. What. The. Fuck. I calmed myself down before walking further into the room. There were no hospital beds, no medical equipment, and also no patients. Studying the room I noticed that it was very modern. All the appliances and furniture looked strange and sleek. Most surfaces were either some sort of metal or glass. However the one thing that really stood out was the view from the large window expanding across an entire wall. Massive, neon lit skyscrapers. In between which aircraft were casually cruising. All right then, this is the future I suppose, I thought.
I've always been a very calm and practical person. However this was freaking me out, questions bouncing around my head like pinball machine. How did I get here!? Where am I!? WHAT THE FUCK!? The last one kept repeating, over and over again. I was in a hospital one second and then an apartment in the future the next. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted and I jumped when I heard a loud knock on the front door. I froze for a few seconds, completely in shock over the whole situation. Another knock resounded before I came to my senses and rushed over to the door. There was no peep hole to look out into the hallway through, so I just silently prayed as I opened the door.
"Ah, Doctor Hawke, there you are." I nearly fainted at what I was seeing. A man completely covered head to toe in red and orange Spartan Armour, looking exactly like he was straight out of the Halo franchise. No fucking way! There's no way this is the Halo universe. No bloody way! I must have looked like a complete idiot staring at him with my mouth hung open in shock, however he either didn't take notice of it or chose not to comment, instead saying "Can I come in Doc, I've got some documents for you to go over before you're transferred to the project."
After clearing my throat quickly I moved to the side to let the Spartan in. There was no way I'd be standing in the way of a thousand-pound, heavily armoured space marine. He walked in, sounding surprising light-footed considering the weight of the armour. "Oh yeah I suppose I should introduce myself first," he started while holding out his hand for me to shake it, "I'm Agent New Mexico with Project Freelancer." Holy shit, I thought as I shook his proffered hand.
"I'm guessing from the look on your face you expected to be picked up one of the lackeys huh?" New Mexico said with a laugh. I just mutely nodded since I had no idea what to expect, let alone that. "Well usually we do, but the Director was very specific in his instructions regarding you Doc." He paused for a moment, clearly thinking something through before continuing, "I guess I should stop calling you Doc though once you sign your transfer papers. I wonder what State name they're giving ya?" I'm sure if he hadn't had a helmet and visor on I would have seen him wink. I tried to school my expression as I didn't have the benefit of one. Once again I just mutely nodded, I didn't trust myself to speak without my voice squeaking.
"You know, you're quite," he said with an evident frown in his voice, "You're not mute are you? Didn't saying anything about that in your profile."
Finally gaining the courage to speak I just let out a monotone, "Nope."
"Well good then, because that would have been awkward. Care to take a seat Doc?" he said while gesturing toward the dining table further in the apartment.
New Mexico followed me as I lead the way to the table which I hadn't even noticed had a stuffed duffle bag and some sort of table sitting on top. My duffle bag that I carried every day to the hospital. How the hell?
"Good to know you're always prepared to move out, this is a pretty hectic job you're signing up for here."
Feeling more comfortable now that I at least had something of my own in this strange world, I replied with a snarky, "I've had worse." It was true too, as a combat medic in the Australian Defence force I had seen my fair share of hectic days, this one however was looking at topping all of them.
New Mexico just laughed as he pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat down as I did the same. He then proceeded to pull out a device that he stretched out into a holographic projector. Wow this shit is cool, I mused to myself as I waited for him to continue. He tapped away at a few tabs on the holo-projector, bring up what looked like a legal document before handing it to me. "Just read that and then we can get ya signed up," he said happily.
I gingerly took it from his metal-gloved hands before reading the text. It was a military contract for Project Freelancer; a bunch of information about the classified artificial intelligence program and what my role in it would be. There was no mention of my 'Agent' name yet, however apparently I had already been in the UNSC as a Combat Medic for two years and held the rank of Sergeant. Holy fuck balls. Further down where I had to obviously sign the confidential document was my full name. Kara Marie Hawke. Once again questions rang through my head. How do they know my name? I'm from 2015, not 2550 like it says up the top. Why are they recruiting me?
That last question was answered when I scrolled down further in the document to my 'Agent Profile'. My age, 23 was there. My birthplace, Brisbane Australia. My date of birth however was very wrong, 29/01/2527 instead of the actual 29/02/1992. I'm pretty sure that I'd remember my own birthday, especially since I only had it every four years because of the leap year I was born on. My military history looked startlingly similar except for the dates and places where events occurred. Instead of fighting ISIS in Damascus in 2015 it said that I'd been fighting Insurrectionists on Tribute in 2549. This is all kinds of messed up, I thought to myself.
Suddenly aware that I still had an audience, I quickly made up my mind and used my finger to sign my name in the space allocated and handed the holo-projector back to New Mexico, who then closed it while saying, "Welcome to Project Freelancer Agent."
I had no idea what was happening or why. No idea where I was along the timeline of Red versus Blue, which I had been a fan of since Medical School. All I knew is that for some reason I was now given a chance to right some wrongs in regards to Freelancer. To potentially save and meet some of my favourite characters from the web series. This was my New Reality.
