My name is Alex Sinclair. I am many things. Soldier, Commander, Assassin, Butcher
My innocence was taken from me long ago. I was to become an 'ultimate soldier' - a means to grind human insurgency to dust and defend mankind against a covenant of fanatical aliens. And I have done just that…and more
The augmentation procedure which would enhance my physical limits beyond that of any natural human failed miserably. As I felt the sheer agony of my bones turning to glass, my blood becoming fire and the very sensation as if my veins were being torn from my body, I felt nothing but hate and outrage. I had faced my final trial of initiation and was left broken
I lay there for days, weeks, months. But soon I had recovered. I was deemed fit for duty, but not for the corps I was meant to become. They saw me as a defect. A liability. But my rage boiled in me and in this modern age, there were other ways I could obtain the power they were unable to give me.
The days went by through my training. Enhanced gravity exercise, martial arts, weapons training, polymathic studies. I wanted everything I could to become what they wanted me to be. I had no choice. What they had taken from me was irreparable. There wasn't any other path, any form of bullshit hope of a fresh start. I would only go from where I started.
Soon I was ready, and as I looked back, I remembered the anger, the cooped-up savagery that I had suppressed for so long. And once they let me loose on the enemies of the UNSC, all hell broke loose.
I was never good at inspiring the others; I only exuded fear, malice and for they knew, insanity. Even to those who should have been my friends, only saw me as an animal, a loose cannon barely aimed at the enemy, who could turn its firepower to them just as easily.
But soon I became an assassin, meant to eliminate war criminals and traitors. As it seemed, we had set our sights on one of the most controversial military research projects in history:
Project Freelancer
I had no authority to intervene in their experiments, nor did I know for sure what they were up to abroad that frigate. But I knew its director, Leonard Church. I read through his personal file; My suspicions held more value to me than any security measures. Their research with and how they would be paired with a field agent. I knew the pain of my own enhancements, but the potential blowback of an awry A.I implant was catastrophic. Then I found it; the Director's late wife, listed amongst the deceased from one of the many battles of the Covenant. The thought lingered through my mind for years. The sudden lost of a loved one, having your family taken…away. If someone could go through that and not lose his mind, he couldn't be human.
Our worse fears were realised. The Director, in his insanity was torturing the A.I he was assigned with. He was splintering it, extracting the various emotions of a broken mind. The UNSC's response was inimical. He was to be arrested and by the sound of his last message feed, he would come quietly. But when the authorities raided his diminishing compounds, they found nothing. He was gone, along with one of the only pieces of evidence that could convict him; a surviving A.I fragment, codenamed: "Epsilon".
It turned up at an obsolete post, manned by unwanted, inept soldiers. A disgraced agent offered to retrieve it, as to prove his innocence for wiping out all information that could convict the Director. He set out with another rogue, an insane juggernaut with a bloodlust that rivalled even mine. The mission turned into a wild goose chase. By the time the military had arrived at the scene, three freelancer agents lay dead, including the one who could have revealed what had happened within Project Freelancer was true. And all we had found was a team of rejects, claiming to have killed them all. An interesting story, if somewhat far-fetched.
But now, these men have fled and according to intel, they're hunting the Director. It would seem they're seeking a pardon for several stunts they pulled off; stealing military property, withholding sensitive information and assaulting a military complex housing confiscated combat equipment.
I don't care who they are, or what they've accomplished. But if they decide to step out of line, try anything to weasel their way out of our sight, then I will find them, and I will end them.