Freelancer Training – 1 Year Ago
"You are going to be placed with partners based on your skills and ranking, not on your personality. This means it is unlikely you will be with someone you know, never mind a friend, so you must learn to get along quickly or you will fail," the voice of F.I.L.S.S. booms out over the room.
Ah, crap. I'm gonna be placed with some power-crazy guy who only wants to win. I hate being second rank, I curse internally. Sure, being second means you get perks others don't, but they never tell you who's first or third, so there's no chance I'll know this guy. I only know one guy and he's ranked fifty-two.
"I'm going to call out pairs starting from the lowest rank going up. Agent Idaho and Agent Seattle, please exit in the north-eastern corner of the room and follow the stairs to the left."
After that, I kinda zone out. This is gonna take a long time, what with there being 50 agents-in-training on board (no Texas for some reason), and I'm guaranteed a place in the last pair.
Finally, my name is announced, along with- Wait? Was that?
"Agent New York and Agent Carolina, I apologise for the wait. Please make your way to the southern exit for special training,"
Quickly, I glance up. Thank God my tan armour stops her from recognizing me, but I remembered her name from the dog tags she wore 4 years ago at Club Errera. I've bought a new lighter since then, but I'm not gonna tell her I use it for burning my forearms, not smoking myself to death.
Just like you weren't going to tell the last girl about the multitude of scars covering your body, but you still did? A voice taunts in my head, and I almost reply, proving just how lonely I actually am.
"So, Agent New York, I guess you're ranked second?" She - Carolina - asks, cocking her greenish-blue-sea foam-green-turquoise-whatever is it helmet to the side slightly.
Unable to speak after the shock of seeing her again, I nod slightly and carry on walking out the door and down the corridor to our assignment.
"Hey, you're quiet. Nervous?" Carolina assumes, jogging to catch up to me.
Slowly, carefully, I shake my head.
"Seriously, if we're going to be partners, you have to talk to me at some point," she sighs, obviously exasperated already.
Stop it, York. You're already pushing her away before you've even said a word. Just stop being such an idiot and speak up for once!
"Uh… C-Can I have my- Can I have my lighter back?" I stutter.
God dammit. I knew there was a good reason for the not talking thing. Man up, York! How can someone fire a gun like you can and not be able to talk to one, however hot, girl?
"What?" Her helmet tilts even further.
"Uh- never mind. It's not important anyway," I mutter."
"Wait, are you the guy from Errera?!" She asks, incredulous, "Who'd of thought!"
"Yeah, that's me,"
"Wow, I never thought you were actually going to make it as an agent, never mind be ranked second!" She jokes, "Wait, shit, no, I didn't mean it like that! I just, you seemed kind of depressed and, honestly, lazy, back then,"
At the word depressed, my whole body tenses. Sure, I know I'm depressed; I basically have been my whole life. Some medic almost sent me home when he noticed my scars during the medical assessment, but my commander confirmed they were old, long forgotten mistakes.
"Hey! New York to Earth, well, spaceship, but, oh, you know!"
"Huh? Oh, what?" I ask, shocked and embarrassed.
"We're here,"
"Oh, cool,"
"Yeah, there's definitely something up with you and we're not going in until I find out what,"
"No, no, it's nothing. I've just… Got a lot on my mind. Yeah, that's it,"
"Okay, sure, but if you ever need anything, come to me first, yeah? I like you New York, and I don't want a team of medics sending you home just yet,"
"Call me York,"
"Only if you call me 'Lina?"
I smile at the memory, before replying. "Deal."
"That went…" I gasp for breath, "well…"
"It would've gone better if you'd just listened to me about the drones."
"And if you hadn't insisted on picking the lock, even though I am specially trained in infiltration,"
Carefully, I pull my helmet off and take a look at my reflection in a window as I pass by. I look, well, shitty. My hair is everywhere, my brown eyes have dark, purple bags under them and my lips are cracked because I wasn't drinking enough.
"Shit, you look crap," Carolina notes.
"Well, gee, thanks 'Lina. I bet you're not looking so good under your helmet either," I laugh, strangely at ease with someone who's basically a stranger, "I bet you have helmet hair!"
We both laugh and I grab her helmet, pulling it off and tucking it under my free arm in one simple movement.
"Hey!" She protests, but she soon notices her own dishevelled hair in the window too, "Ugh, crap. I'm going to the lockers; I don't care what they said about waiting, I can't be seen like this by anyone. You coming?"
"Sure," I smirk, following her to the shared locker room.
When we got there, Carolina immediately takes off all her armour, revealing a black tank top and light-blue shorts. I hesitate, hoping she will leave so I can get changed alone, but she takes one look at me, still in full armour, and immediately questions it.
"How are you still in that stuff? It's like Hell in there!"
"Uh, I just. I- I don't. Ijustdon'twantyoutoseemegetchanged."
God-fucking-dammit York. I hate you.
"What? Slow down a little, would you?"
"Uh, it's nothing. Just go for a shower 'Lina," I insist.
"Fine. Whatever you say York. Just make sure you're not in that when I come out. I'm not being partners with someone who smells that bad,"
I grin and watch her turn the corner to the showers before stripping off my armour and exchanging my black t-shirt and brown cargo shorts for an orange, long-sleeved Grifball t-shirt and faded blue jeans. I quickly splash my face with cold water and sit to wait for Carolina, humming a tune I have stuck in my head.
I kinda like writing nervous/awkward York, but he's probably gonna be a lot more like himself soon (AKA sarcastic and cute and funny).
So yeah, this is a little longer than the first bit, I just always wanted to write about Club Errera and I took the opportunity! :)