The Pelican rumbled, and finally touched down after hours of flight. The roar of its engines continued to deafen before slowing to a stall and finally shutting off. For the first time since we'd taken off, I was able to hear myself think, and organize my thoughts. I was here.

I filed out of the Pelican with the others, shouldering my not-even-full duffel. It never failed to affect me at times like this, when I carried my whole life on my shoulder. But then, that was who I was, who I had become. I looked around, surveying this new base, the other new recruits. They were all older than me, no surprises there I suppose. It was nothing I wasn't already used to. Like me, they were busy surveying our new surroundings. And I got plenty of looks. Looks that said, "why are you here" and "go home girlie." I was used to those looks, however, and the words and actions that went along with them. But I'd worked to hard, and sacrificed to much to be cowed by a group of disgruntled soldiers.

This base, this headquarters, was unlike any I'd ever seen. From the outside it was less obvious, but the lack of tents, or any temporary structure gave it away. Here it was all concrete and steel. Obviously, they planned on staying for a while. Inside, the yard rumbled with enough action to challenge an angry bee hive. Soldiers wearing MJOLNIR armor ran laps, shot at targets, climbed through an absolutely lethal looking obstacle course. It was all constant activity, constant training. It made me buzz to start running, climbing, do anything but stand here. I'd never seen any soldier wearing MJOLNIR before; it only went to programs like this. Programs that were looking to make super soldiers.

I followed the line of other recruits to a theater style room, not bothering to keep my head down, despite the ever increasing stares, now not just form the other recruits, but the armored soldiers, even those who looked liked the program's officers and doctors. Let them stare. I knew exactly who and what I was. I belong here. As we took our seats in the theater, a man in a suit stepped forward to the podium set at center-stage. Was this the mysterious program's enigmatic director?

"Greetings, Recruits, and as your Counselor, I welcome you to Project Freelancer, an experi-"

Ah. Not the Director. And not very interesting. As this "Counselor" droned on about their A.I. experiments, I recalled my fateful last meeting with my old CO, the one that had set me on this course.

"Come in, Private"

"Sir." I stood, wondering why my sergeant had called me in. Did someone complain about me again? It figured.

"Daniels, do you know why you're here?" he stood behind his desk, which was covered in papers and maps...and my file?

"Sir, I am afraid I do not." I stood tense. Not another reassignment, I prayed. I actually liked it here.

"At ease, Daniels, you're not in trouble. I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition, sir?" Yep, definitely getting reassigned.

"Chance of a lifetime. I'd do it, if I wasn't here. Ever heard of a program called Project Freelancer?"

Project Freelancer. Everyone knew the rumors. The elite super soldiers. The dangerous A.I. The stories of men gone mad.

"Only rumors, sir, nothing worth mentioning."

"Well then, I'll explain it to you. Project Freelancer is an experimental program endeavoring to create super soldiers aided by new experimental A.I. What do you think of it?"

I think that's a lot of "experimental"s.

"That sounds...different, sir. Interesting, I suppose, though."

"This Project Freelancer needs elite soldiers, Daniels, soldiers that are better than all others, who can survive where all others fall."

"You're reassigning me." No need to pretend otherwise.

He sighed then, "Daniels, you're one of the best soldiers, best fighters, best goddamn survivors I've ever commanded. And you're 22. 22 years old, Daniels. There are men twice your age who could never, at any point in their life do what you can do now. I'm not letting you be just another foot soldier. Your future is brighter than that, you can do more than that. "

I gulped, "I understand, sir, I'll go pack," Reassigned, again. No matter how fancy he dressed it up. No surprises. But this place, this sergeant, he was different. He respected me and my capabilities. At least I thought so. I turned to leave, but before he could, he caught my arm.

"Daniels, no. Rebecca. You've been through hell, and it's made you impossibly strong. Don't waste that strength."