Episode 207 – From the Documents of SPARTAN Agent Hollis-232

--Yes, I know. What is this? This isn't Red Vs Blue! This is more like Ghosts of Onyx. Have you lost your mind? I'm not wasting my time on this! Well, I can assure you; this new chapter has something to do with my Red Vs Blue story arc. In this chapter, I have replaced Church as the narrator (only for this chapter, I promise) and we are given a new narrator in former SPARTAN II officer Hollis-232. Please enjoy and please understand, this idea will provide information for the story. I hope you like it!—

My name is Hollis-232. I am an alumnus of the SPARTAN-II program. The following is an account of my experiences with the Freelancer Program. These documents were classified above tops secret on orders of the Director of Project Freelancer

--

The Director of Project Freelancer was a towering man holding a large presence in any room he stood in. I couldn't really place his accent, but it sounded southern. His face always bore a bit of stubble, like he hadn't shaved for a few days.

The Director struck me as a man bearing a lot of responsibility on his shoulders. He had a serious demeanor and he really cared about his soldiers, but at the same time was ready to sacrifice them for the greater good. His understanding of good and evil had a serious influence on his management of the Freelancers, and for that I respected him.

The Freelancer program was approved by the UNSC Oversight Subcommittee Chairman three months ago. Since then, The Director had recruited his agents into the program. Never had I seen such a multitude of ready and willing soldiers volunteer for something like this. The Director went through a small army of soldiers before selecting his agents.

Imagine my surprise when the infamous Colonel James Ackerson called on me to head the Freelancer program. I had been called into the secret meeting room onboard the UNSC Point of No Return known as Odin's Eye. He told me that he needed a SPARTAN soldier to oversee the activities of the Freelancer program. Odin's Eye is also where I met the Director of Project Freelancer. Even then he towered over me.

Two months later, I met with the first bunch of the Freelancer Agents I would meet in the subsequent years. We met at Freelancer central on a base the Director had nicknamed "Standoff". One agent that I vividly remembered meeting was named Linus Mason, one of many to come.

--

"How are you feeling Linus?" I asked him. We were in an interview room. Linus hadn't been issued his armor yet and he was dressed in the standard issue Freelancer common wear that comprised of a tan jumpsuit with the program's triplicate emblem.

"I've been better." Linus scratched his eye. It had been replaced with a cybernetic eye after a small training mishap. The AI that had caused it was being repaired at that moment. Once it was fixed, the AI would later be distributed to the Freelancer who best displayed the abilities to handle it.

"How's the eye?" I asked.

"It still hurts when I read." I'd be sure to log that.

"Well Linus, as you know, I'm here to give you your performance review. This review will determine your placement in the upcoming AI trials as well as your equipment assignment with it."

"Let's do this. How've I been doing?" Linus seemed like a fun loving sarcastic man, but he still held a serious demeanor about him. I had no doubts that he was as furious in battle as he was carefree in his social life.

"In battle you've received several medals for your service to the UNSC. You earned three purple hearts in The Battle of the Apex, and two more in the Battle of Jericho VII. But, what you lack in bullet dodging skill you make up for in kill rate. You're an extremely talented marksman and, may I say, a skilled locksmith. Never have I seen anyone perpetrate a stealth operation so easily."

"Is that a good thing?" Linus asked me finally.

"Yes, it is a very good thing." I told him. "According to your records, you are the perfect choice for our program. You are experienced enough and skilled enough to bear the Freelancer Triplicate Badge. Welcome to the program." Linus smiled.

"Where do I go from here?" he asked me.

"Tomorrow you will be issued your next orders and your AI trial assignment papers. You will also be given a new codename. You will never answer to your real name again. Your past is gone, forget it all. From now on, you shall no longer be known as Linus Mason, that man went MIA during the Battle of New Harmony. He was awarded a final Purple Heart for his service."

"So what will my name be then?" I looked down at the list of names I hadn't assigned yet.

"Your codename will be designated as Agent New York."

"Then call me York." I was beginning to like York.

--

Over the next few weeks I interviewed hundreds of soldiers, all of them eager to join the program. Some were easier to deal with than others. I believed my choices were justified though. There was only one that I was wary about. Keith Cross was my choice for the helm of Agent Maine. Cross was a veteran of more than a few battles of the Halo Wars. He was eighteen during, and therefore eligible to fight in, the First Battle of Harvest. Since then he had participated in nearly every battle since. Even though his service was distinguished, Cross gave me the impression that something was amiss in his mind.

An incident in the training room heightened my suspicions. Late one day, a few of the agents I kept in my personal squad were in a virtual reality training room. The VR training was an easier way to train the soldiers in situations few though possible. But, in my experience, there is no reason to be under prepared. When I got to the training room, medical operatives were wheeling one of my agents out, Agent Nevada. Maine was being restrained by the others.

"What the hell is going on here!?" I yelled. York came forward first.

"Captain, thank god…we don't really know what happened. We were just running some stealth ops. Maine failed the missions by charging in and startling the Covenant holograms and then he and Nevada started fighting."

"Over what?" I asked.

"Battlefield tactics." I should have guessed that. Nevada was a perfectionist. He always needed to do everything at 100% efficiency or not at all. He would be the first to protest a failed mission in VR.

"Pick him up." I told my men. Around Agent Maine was my special squad. The members of my team consisted of Agents Wyoming, Texas, York, Maine, Nevada, and Washington. They were some of the greatest soldiers in the program and it was my honor to work with them.

Maine was always the largest of the group. His stamina was never matched in the history of the program, not once. This afforded Maine one of the biggest advantage/disadvantages of them all, a penchant for large firearms. His weapon of choice was a brute shot, a fact that both impressed and frightened me.

"What were you thinking Agent Maine, hurting a fellow officer? What was running through your head?" Maine didn't respond to me at first. I grasped at his neck and ripped off his helmet. Maine face was hardened with anger and his jet black hair was slicked back with a mixture of sweat and grease. His eyes were blackened with rage.

"I asked you a question soldier! What were you thinking!?" Maine still didn't respond. His face just tightened at the appearance of a slight smile. A chuckle came after it and he began to look like a madman. I turned to Agent Washington, who was standing at my side.

"Take him too solitary. A week's punishment may lighten him up." This is when Maine suddenly came to life. He began screaming and yelling. No discernable words were in his speech, only primal rage overtook his outburst. He was dragged kicking and screaming to his solitary cell by Washington and Texas. Maine was transferred to the personal care of the Director of Project Freelancer after that. I never saw Maine again after that day.

--

The Halo Wars still raged on. The Freelancers were my shining hope in the darkness of war. By my side stood Freelancer Agent York, the best of them all in my opinion. York was the most loyal of them all. His AI, Delta was a testament to that. Delta was the smartest AI I had ever met. Even my personal AI Gaia wasn't as logical as Delta. York was lucky to have him.

"What's the update York?" I asked him.

"Maine disappeared." He told me. I gave him a surprised look, causing him to explain. "We were running an op. ONI gave us orders that said that it was a simple Recovery mission; that another Freelancer was injured and we were assigned to save him."

"Who was it?"

"Nevada." Shit, I thought.

"That couldn't have gone well."

"It was me, Maine, South, and Tex. The threat was minor; a couple of Grunts and a few Elites had captured Nevada on a routine intel gathering mission. We go in take out the threat and liberate Nevada. All of a sudden, Maine goes apeshit. We don't know what the hell's going on. He throws down a plasma grenade and the next thing you know, he and Nevada are gone, poof!"

Maine was a wildcard, but never had I expected something like this.

"Why was Maine even with you?" I asked. "Last I heard he was on personal business with the Director; got his Triplicate pulled."

"Special assignment." York said. "Hell, I nearly killed him myself, the mute bastard."

"He still isn't talking?"

"I think it's his AI." Delta added. "I never felt safe around Eta."

"You think Eta has corrupted his mind?" I asked.

"With what happened to Wash, I don't doubt it." The Epsilon incident was only a few months before. Wash was still in recovery. Had he not been in therapy, he might've been with York and maybe this event could've been averted.

--

Maine and Nevada were never found. No remains were ever recovered. No equipment was ever returned. They were gone. Maine was officially classified as MIA and a Section Eight was put on his record. Section Eight is UNSC code for 'military discharge due to mental illness or instability'. Nevada was classified as a POW, thought to have gone missing during combat. I nearly cried.

York stayed by my side throughout it all. Tex was sectioned away from the program, The Director gave her her discharge papers and sent her away. I never saw her again. Wash remained in therapy for the rest of the project's duration. I'm not sure what happened to most of my soldiers during those final years.

August 30, 2552. The Fall of Reach. The remains of the Freelancer program went into battle. We lost a lot of good men that day. It was the last day I saw many of my men. York and I were the only ones to escape out of the four agents I had taken with me. We were half way back to Earth on a small Covenant Phantom that we had commandeered from a group of Grunts who now laid on the ground of Reach awaiting to be glassed with our brothers in arms.

"We're leaving Hollis." York told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"The Freelancer program is finished." Delta added. "Two days ago, I intercepted a radio transmission from the Chairman of the Oversight Subcommittee in charge of the Project. He plans to bring the Director, the Receiver, and the Councilor up on charges. The Project is ended."

"No one told me." I whispered in disgrace. "Where will you go?"

"We have a safe house back on Earth in Mombasa." York said. "We plan to live as civilians and hide out. This war is tiring."

"Come with us Hollis." Delta told me. The emotions that phrase triggered within me were varied. I felt a range of sadness at the loss of my friend, but flattery in that he had asked me to join him. York was the closest thing I had to a friend, but I knew I couldn't join him.

--

That was the end for me. Project Freelancer was disbanded and the soldiers remaining alive were left to their own devices. Maine and Nevada were still missing. Texas was left alone. Last I heard she was working an undercover op trying to recover the rogue AIs that were created during the AI trials.

York really did move to Mombasa. I met him only once more after that night in August. It was during the Second Battle of Earth, more specifically the Battle of Voi. York had gotten a job working in the factories at Voi after New Mombasa's destruction during the First Battle of Earth.

I was working in conjunction with Master Chief at the battle. After he and the Arbiter had taken down the Scarab tanks the Covenant attacked us with, I ran into a storage warehouse with a squad of marines. York was in the warehouse. He was unarmed.

York hadn't changed. He was using his real name again though, as evidenced by the name on his worker's jumpsuit. He had cut his hair and dyed it blonde. I noticed a small wrist computer on his arm, most likely concealing Delta's existence.

We exchanged no words during the battle. Instead, when I breached the warehouse and noticed York, we exchanged a glance of acknowledgement. I stared directly at York and did several hand gestures from the Spartan Battlefield Language, which translated would mean 'Get out now.' York nodded. I tossed him a loaded Magnum on his way out. And then he was gone.

--

"Is this where they end?" The Chairman asked once he had finished reading the file he had been provided earlier. The Director sat across from him.

"The rest of Hollis's records were lost after Project Freelancer was shut down. We're lucky we recovered that last entry. Consider yourself lucky you were able to read it. Hollis went MIA after the Battle of Installation 00."

"You think this satiates my thirst for knowledge about your program? You were corrupt before and I don't believe something like that can change as quickly as you say you have. The Recovery program is nothing but a retooled Freelancer Project."

"Mister Chairman," said the Director. "I resent that."

"Then how do you justify your actions during the Freelancer program, my dear Director?"

"I believe that it is a fundamental quality of man, that when faced with extinction, every alternative is preferable…my dear Chairman."