"Something about a robotic suit?" Florida said.

"The endoskeleton is robotic, however, the armor is very similar to that used by the simulation soldiers," the Counselor said. "Certain restraints have been placed on the Alpha, including one which compels it to never remove its armor."

"Any other restraints?"

The Counselor turned over a page on his clipboard. "Its aim has been compromised. Any given attempt to operate a firearm will result in the shot being slightly off. Its processing speed has been delayed by approximately 145 milliseconds, thereby putting it at slightly above normal reaction time. It will be unable to utilize the full potential of the body it has been given. These limitations may be removed using the passphrase given to you."

Florida considered it for a moment. "What other soldiers have been stationed at Blood Gulch?"

"At Outpost 1A there is currently only one simulation trooper, Private 1st Class Lavernius Tucker. At Outpost 1B there is Private 1st Class Richard Simmons, Private Dexter Grif, and Staff Sargeant—"

A very loud piece of machinery starting up drowned out the rest of the Counselor's sentence.

The observation window for the medical bay was tinted dark, though Agent Florida could still just barely see inside. The technicians were in the process of the final transfers.

"The Alpha, naturally, will be under a separate name," the Counselor said in his usual soft tone. "Private Leonard Church."

Florida crossed his arms over his chest. "One last question, then we'll be right as rain. You said he didn't have any memories—but what if he were to remember something? Just something suppressed or unconscious, say. What then?"

The Counselor considered the question. "The Alpha has been through a great amount of trauma, so much so it would drive a lesser mind to madness. Many of its experiences are associated with Project Freelancer. If any latent memories do come to the surface—" The Counselor turned away from Florida. "—you have our condolences."

The door of the medical bay came unsealed. Florida quickly slipped his helmet back on.

"Damn, how long was I out?! Hurt like a bitch!"

It could have been just another simulation soldier in cobalt armor, but Florida knew otherwise.

"And how are you feeling, Private Church? Adjusting well?" Florida had been chosen for a reason—not just his skill, but his talent at deception.

The Alpha stretched his arms—Florida couldn't help but be interested in how deep the illusion of humanity went, to the point of trying to loosen non-existent muscles. "I feel like I got run over by a tank. Hey, fuck off." He pushed a medic away. "And for that matter who the hell are you?"

"I'm Captain Flowers, your new commanding officer," Florida said. "You've been reassigned to Blood Gulch."

"Flowers, huh?" Every word he said was dripping in sarcasm. "Sure gonna miss freezing my ass off at Sidewinder." He made a noise of disgust.

"Then we should get going, our shuttle is waiting."

The Alpha hesitated a moment. "Hey, uh, can I ask a question, sir?"

"Please, don't call me sir. I want to be approachable, call me Captain," Florida said gently. "What's your question?"

"Uh…well, captain? What happened at Sidewinder? I mean, what happened to the other Blues?"

Florida responded without thinking "K.I.A. No survivors."

The Alpha stopped. Florida instinctively reached for his pistol. "Oh. Right. Well, hey." Alpha shrugged. "Everyone dies eventually, right?"

Church couldn't shake the feeling he was forgetting something.