(A/N) Hey guys, NicKenny here, with some big announcements coming your way! First of all, apologies for the delay between the last chapter and this one, we were held up a bit with deadline delays, but have decided to work around them. Secondly, this is a very big chapter for us, because it debuts the appearance of a very important character in the Red vs Blue mythos, Agent Connecticut! Written by LanaLlama, I hope you'll see her as everything you imagined, and we've got some big things planned for her, as I'm sure is no surprise! Watch this space!
Thirdly, and finally, I am proud to announce that we are now officially open to applications for the second half of Phase Two: Betrayal, looking for writers interested in writing for Freelancer OCs, the Counselor, 479er and Agent Washington. For those who wish to do so, head on over to our Forum, under Misc and Red vs Blue, entitled The Freelancer Collaboration. There, you must fill out an Author Application form (takes about five minutes), and afterwards, depending on what character you're interested in, fill out the relevant Character Application form, all of which are pinned topics on our forum. If you struggle with any of these steps, or just are looking for more information, PM this account and I'll get back to you as soon as I can! Applications will be open until the morning of January 1st, 2014, with the accepted authors being announced later that day.
Enjoy!
Chapter Ten – Before C.T.
Agent Connecticut
Written by LanaLlama
"Surely only boring people went in for conversations consisting of questions and answers. The art of true conversation consisted in the play of minds." - Ved Mehta
"The boss wants to see you." The brown haired girl lifted her eyes from the book in her hands to glance at the source of the voice. She sighed, her brown eyes meeting his green ones before flickering back to the book that she was clutching and back to him once more. She tugged the strip of tissue paper free of the pages and placed it as a marker of where she was before shutting it and standing from her seat, leaving behind a half-full mug of steaming tea.
"What does he want?" She hugged her book to her chest as they walked down the corridors, her short legs struggling to keep up with his long stride.
"Uh, a new mission, I think. Mr Rhee mentioned something about long-term infiltration as I left. It sounds big."
"Oh." She took in this news as they arrived outside the door, the girl ducking behind her brown hair as Brandon knocked and stepped back.
"I'll just make sure no one steals your tea, okay?" He walked backwards as he spoke, and with a wink turned disappeared down the corridor they had just come from. She couldn't help but smile at that, although this was immediately wiped from her face as the next moment the voice on the other side called out, granting her entry, the door whooshing open before her.
She stepped inside the neat office, which she had never been in before, which is why her brown eyes rapidly scanned everything within the room, from the leather seats and fancy glass table - obviously meant for important guests - to the beautifully carved wooden desk that made the brunette pine for her home.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" She was familiar with the rules, and while she didn't like them, she had to abide by them for now. One hand gripped her book firmly, as though the bald man behind the desk might attempt to steal it from her.
She stood a few feet from his desk, eyes fixed intently on her superior and curiosity shaping her face. Eventually Mr Rhee drew his eyes away from the screen he was looking at and up to her, seeming to be almost taken aback by her appearance. A cigar hung loosely in his mouth as his eyes looked her up and down appraisingly. She shuffled, fully aware of his gaze and not used to being looked at in such a way; she tilted her head subtly to the side so that her hair fell about her round face and would shield her from Mr Rhee's gaze.
"I have an assignment for you, Agent Connecticut." He picked up the thick stick and dabbed it in a wooden bowl, extinguishing the few embers that burned at its end.
"Sir," she began, somewhat confused, her brow furrowing, "My name is…"
"I'm well aware of what your name is. God knows I've spent long enough reading over your file, but you're to have to get used to that title if you are to succeed." His words were met with a frown and drawn eyebrows that displayed her confusion. She could tell that he was irritated by her slow uptake, but really, she hadn't been told anything, what did he expect?
"Such meek behaviour won't be tolerated either." Her brown eyes blinked at him from behind similarly coloured hair. "If you want to survive you'll have to grow plenty of backbone."
"What exactly am I to be doing?" Her shoulders straightened out and a slight hint irritation could be heard in her otherwise gentle voice. He was being so vague about her mission, and she was eager enough to learn what was going to get her out of this hell-hole.
"There was a project established by the UNSC about a year ago, but given its own autonomy and funding, essentially free of UNSC supervision. You may have heard brief mentions of it at some point - Project Freelancer?" He said the title as a question, his voice framing the word with an air of distaste and he actually awaited an answer from her.
"It has been mentioned in a few reports." She nodded for emphasis, as quite often her soft voice wasn't always enough for some people. In the military, you were only respected if you spoke loudly and affirmatively. She had settled for gaining respect through her own abilities, and, up until this point, she had been beginning to feel that it had been a wasted effort.
"You're aware of their goals?" Mr Rhee glanced down to a few papers on his desk and seemed to consider them, before glancing back up at her with an air of interest.
"Yes sir, they were Special Operations unit established to combat the Covenant. They're pretty admirable, and full of talented agents, from what I've heard." She didn't like looking at the shining skin of her superiors bald head, which is why the eyes of the soon-to-be Agent Connecticut moved down to trace the patterns of the carpet on which she stood. The next moment she glanced back up at her superior as realization hit her. "Are- Are you asking me to join them, sir?"
She wasn't sure how she should feel if this were the case. Those soldiers were dubbed as "the best of the best". She certainly didn't qualify to even be in the best, let alone the best of the best…Did she even qualify as a soldier when most of her skill lay with combat knives and computers?
"In a manner of speaking. Lately, our division, among others, have found some of their actions and behaviour to be…questionable. Unfortunately our superiors within the UNSC refuse to see things our way, and so we are forced to take action, if we are to find the answers we require. You may be aware that they were shut down, after two of their agents went rogue."
He paused, and she nodded an affirmative. "Excellent. Well, they have since been re-established, and are now looking for new agents, and so here we are." She blinked again as Mr Rhee looked back at her, pulling up a large file on his holo-drive, and she stared into a picture of her own face as her file opened up before her. "Your file is exemplary, both in the field and out of it, and we need someone who won't get caught. We've explored all of our options, and you are the one who appears to be best suited for this task. Your psych evaluations speak of an almost crippling under confidence, but I have faith that this won't affect the way in which you carry out this mission?" This was said as a question, her superior's voice laced with a very palpable threat.
"Are you up to the challenge?"
That was a question she truly had to consider. They were asking her to spy on another project? What would happen if she were caught? ...No, knew that they wouldn't be able to trace the leaks back to her. Even with all of her faults, she had yet to come across a better hacker than herself. It was her one redeeming quality. The one thing that had made her useful to Charon.
"What exactly have they been doing that warrants you sending someone to spy on them?" There was no way this girl planned to go in blind. There were ethics involved, and she wasn't going to enter this war, alone and uninformed, when she didn't even have a gun.
"Spy is such a crude term, just think of it as a reconnaissance mission." Oh, the politicians must have so much fun, playing with words, while others took care of their mess. Her brown eyes rolled towards the ceiling.
"Fine, why, then, am I being sent on a reconnaissance mission? What have they done to deserve to be placed underneath observation?" He was equally exasperated by the brunette's questioning, not used to the level of insubordination that she was presenting.
"Well, what happened a few months ago was enough to raise our suspicions. Two of Directr Church's agents went rogue and killed two of the other Freelancers in their escape, along with countless numbers of personnel, rescuing a war criminal as they fled. Along with that, we have recently received reports of their using advanced equipment remarkably similar to that which ONI reported missing some few years back-"
A knock interrupted Mr Rhee's words and had both pairs of eyes turning to the door.
"Enter," he called out, knowing that whatever it must be had to be important, given that this briefing in itself had warranted Charon personnel receiving orders to turn away all but a handful of individuals.
"Sir, the Counselor is becoming pretty impatient." The intruder didn't wait one second longer after bursting through the door to give Mr Rhee the information he had come to deliver.
"Ah, Mr Moore, you've arrived!" Mr Rhee's posture sharpened immediately, and he jumped from his seat and snapped off a clumsy salute, betraying his civilian nature.
"So, this is the agent that we're sending?" The man sported a small mohawk, and didn't look much older than the girl herself; but she immediately recognised him. Of course, there were few soldiers within Charon that wouldn't have. The face of your leader tended to be one you memorised. She briefly wondered how he had risen to such a high-position, given his relative youth, when there must have been others, older and more experienced, vying for the job. His battle prowess, perhaps?
He didn't waste moment before getting down to business. When Mr Rhee nodded affirmatively he turned back to her, looking over her appearance just as the balding man had done, minutes ago. "Damnit Seb, I gave you a relatively simple task, and this is the best you can come up with? We need someone who's able to fit in with super-soldiers, not girl scouts."
"Mr Moore, I am very confident in my choice, she will make an excellent agent." There was a small degree of eye-rolling from the leader, who moved to stand directly before the new Agent Connecticut.
"She doesn't look the part though, not at all. Have you seen any of the agents the Director has recruited in the past? They're all tough, and terrifying, and she's…not." Oh, let him think that; it wasn't like she hadn't heard it all before. It was a good thing - it led people to underestimate her. That was generally the last mistake they ever made.
"Oh, and I suppose you're so tough because you've got your mohawk and that deep voice? Forgive me sir, but didn't the biker craze die out like, three centuries ago?" She had to defend herself in some way, right? So why not do so with her favourite tool; words?
"Agent Connecticut, this is Joshua Moore, your superior officer and head of Charon." These words were accompanied by a very pointed look that warned her to keep her mouth shut, and, as much as she hated it, she complied, accepting the rebuke. "You are to report directly to him with any and all information that you can gather on Project Freelancer, that could be used to discredit Director Church or any of his staff."
"A small state for a small girl," Joshua muttered. Connecticut snapped her eyes to him, glaring, and to her surprise he recoiled slightly, looking away. "I mean…congratulations! You're about to become a super-soldier, provided you survive past the first week, which would surprise me, given the history of Project Freelancer up to this point."
"Mr Moore, you're being unreasonable." Rhee finally leapt to the girls defence, though his back was turned as he returned to his desk, bringing the conversation to a close.
Moore ignored his words, and gave a dismissive snort, changing the topic of conversation. "Like I said, the Counselor is getting pretty impatient. She and I can talk about communications later, we need to introduce her before he begins to get suspicious."
"The same goes for any questions you may have for me, though I'm afraid you'll probably only have a few hours. The Counselor is here for you, after all." Rhee reclined in his chair and returned the cigar to his lips, lighting it once more. This was obviously their cue to leave the office.
An irritated sigh left Josh's lips and he left the room with long strides as, once again, the small brunette struggled to keep up with a taller companion.
"I guess I should show you where he's waiting."
"No shit." The words were automatic. Did she really have to work with this guy for months, or possibly years? He seemed to have had a problem with her before she had even opened her mouth. To be fair, she would admit that she didn't look the part of a super-soldier, but wasn't that the whole point? She would have to stay out of the lime-light and be as discreet as possible, if she was ever to hope to find anything worthwhile.
"You should watch your mouth," Moore replied curtly, glancing over at her. "I could pull you off this mission right now and have you sent home, but I trust Mr Rhee's opinion enough to give you a shot." His face became fixed into a scowl as he said this, and his strides seemed to lengthen out of spite and irritation.
Their journey down the twisting halls was accompanied by silence, though neither of them could help but sneak glances at the other when they thought they wasn't looking. Honestly, in…Connecticut's opinion – she'd have to get used to that name, somehow - Joshua seemed like the stereotypical douche-bag you got in movies that beat his girl-friend and sent her running into the arms of another man…Though he could have done with a piercing and maybe a tattoo somewhere. Who would have thought such Neanderthals still lived in this day and age. He probably thought axes were the pinnacle of masculinity, and cut his own firewood.
"You know," he began, and she started out of what must have seemed like nowhere. "At some point you'll have to talk, given that you are meant to report your findings to me."
"I'll talk when you have something constructive to say," she shot back, frowning, knowing full well that it wasn't advisable to talk to a superior in such a way, yet she'd be damned if she'd take his criticism meekly.
"Maybe I will when you shape up and start looking like a soldier."
"What the hell do you want me to do? Find some sort of chemical solution to make me grow a foot, and shave off my hair?" She still clutched her book in one hand. Maybe bringing it along hadn't been such a good idea, now that she thought about it. She should have left it with Brandon.
"I'm not so sure about the first, but the second you can definitely do." He spared her a brief glance, as if he were checking that the shaved look would suit her. "Long hair is only a drawback in the field."
"No dice, I like my hair the way it is!"
"You're the one that suggested it! You know, I could probably make that an order though." It was enough to shut her up until they reached a meeting room. There were dozens of these throughout the compound that served as Charon's main base, nicknamed Longshore by the inhabitants, given that it was built along the coastline. It had seemed to her, at one point, that meetings were all that ever happened in this god-forsaken building, which had led her wondering why she had ever signed up in the first place. Sure the peace and quiet was nice, but all the paper work and tea and coffee got tedious quickly.
Maybe this mission would be a good thing for her.
"Just come and find me when you're done. I won't go too far." Joshua turned on his tail and left her alone to enter the room, barring the black man sitting at the table across from her, dressed in a smart black suit, a warm smile on his face.
"Sir?" They had called him 'The Counselor', but wasn't that a position, or a job title? This man had to have a name, right?
"Ah, hello." His voice was so soft, and his eyes seemed determined to stare into her soul. Nevertheless, she shook his hand when he offered it, shaking it warmly, and then took the seat across from he as he sat back down. "I'm here, as I am sure your superiors have informed you, as a representative from Project Freelancer. You may refer to me as the Counselor."
Oh damn, this place takes away people's identities.
"I'm sure you're aware as to why I am here."
"It was mentioned." She nodded, wondering just how they had managed to get her, of all people, into such an elite program, when she was just there to spy on them.
"You know about our project?" His hands moved over papers that covered the table between them until he reached a small folder that he picked up, with a slight smile, and flicked open.
"Only a little bit," she replied, shaking her head in an attempt to reaffirm the lie. She wanted to hear, from him, what the project's goal was. That was the first step to research, right? Multiple sources and opinions. "I've never had access to that kind of clearance, and, up here, you don't really hear much about experimental programmes."
His face seemed to fall somewhat, although it was hard to tell when his eyes and lips were nearly as dark as his skin.
"That won't be problematic at all." His face remained passive and blank. She would have to look into this man later on when she reached…wherever it was that Freelancer Project resided. Something about him seemed…off to her. "From what I've read in your file, it wouldn't have been a problem for you to find out yourself, had you wanted to."
So that's what he was reading.
"That is true," she conceded grudgingly. "But I'm not really in the business of violating UNSC protocols, sir."
True enough, even if it didn't reflect on her purposes of joining the project.
"Well, it's a good thing you're on our side, then," the Counselor noted weakly. "Skills such as yours could be dangerous if they possessed by the wrong people."
It troubled her that he was describing exactly what would happen upon accepting her into the project.
Her eyes flickered to the papers, trying to make sense of why he would need so many, and whether or not would she have to sign something? Maybe one that handed her soul over. After all, in this day and age, nobody used paper anymore. The world had gone digital a long time ago.
"We allow all of our agents a chance to…start anew." His tone was still so gentle, and he seemed to be very selective about his words. "We give them new identities, and keep their dossiers tucked away, where no one will find them. Does this appeal to you?"
She almost wanted to laugh at how sincere he was with his question. Who would pass up a chance to start their lives over completely? If such a person existed, she certainly wasn't one of them! She had made her fair share of mistakes, just like everyone else, and now she could be anyone, and no one would question who she had been.
"It really does." She had to appear eager about this, right? A little smile took over her lips, just to prove the point.
"To create a sense of…camaraderie, we name each of our agents after a state." It was only here that Connecticut made sense. "Unfortunately, your name has already been assigned to you. The Director has decided that, from this point on, you will be known as Agent Connecticut, should you choose to join us. I think this particular state is…fitting." He too took in Connecticut's small stature and came to the same judgement as Moore and Seb Rhee had before.
"It would be a privilege, sir." She met his gaze and did her best to inflect her words with sincerity. At the same time, she felt a twinge of worry that this was all part of some elaborate act by Project Freelancer, and that she would be detained the second she set foot in their headquarters, wherever that was. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, where will I be based while I serve in Project Freelancer?"
The Counselor's smile grew wry, and he seemed genuinely pleased that he was the one to divulge this information, as though it gave him a sense of importance and justification.
"We work from a Paris-class frigate, known as the Mother of Invention. We find that the portability and speed which this offers us to be vital for our work, which relies on speed, stealth and success."
"And what will these missions entail?"
"They vary, depending on who needs our help. As the name suggests, we are more of a freelance group and are not strictly affiliated with the UNSC. The goal of the project, as I am sure you have heard, is to create a group of soldiers that will advance us towards the end of this war."
As he spoke the Counselor's hands moved and he began to gather up the papers he had set out on the table, tucking them all neatly together. It looked like she wasn't going to be signing away her soul just yet.
"We shall arrange transport for you shortly. Expect a Pelican to arrive sometime tomorrow morning. I recommend you pack and say your goodbyes, because it may be a long time before you see any of your colleagues again. Welcome to Project Freelancer, Agent Connecticut."
It wasn't long after she had returned to her room, when she heard a knock behind her that made Connecticut drop the shirt she had been folding. She had noted, with some sense of satisfaction, tinged with regret, that she practically lived out of a trunk anyway, and would probably require a new uniform when she arrived, so she could survive with only a backpack of essentials. It was her books that were posing a problem, which she planned to put off until the end.
"Come in!" she yelled over her shoulder before returning to the task at hand, her concentration firmly focused on negotiating this game of clothing Tetris.
"So, you're actually leaving?" Brandon's voice sounded behind her, leading Connecticut to abandon the shirt and turn to face her comrade with an apologetic nod. He held two steaming cups of tea in either hand and wore a sad puppy dog face in place of his usual smile.
"Sadly, yes." He handed one cup over, which she gladly took off him.
"I couldn't keep it warm, so I made you another." If there was one thing she would actually miss, it would be the black haired, whiny man before her. The one who had made her tea every single one of their few days off. "Reckon you can fit me in there?" He nodded towards her backpack with a cheeky grin.
"I am not carrying you." Setting the cup down so that the tea could cool, she turned back to the pile of shirts that she had flung on the bed, still uncertain as to which ones she would take with her. Her hands moved automatically and she attempted to fold them again, this time with slightly more luck and relatively good results. They were rolled and shoved in neatly into the backpack, along with some pairs of pants and various other clothes. Not many. Hopefully she would get something decent on board the ship. After all, military life was functional, not fashionable, she noted wryly, smiling slightly to herself.
Brandon watched her over the rim of his own mug from his position on the floor, back against the wall. "Looks like you can't take much. How are you gonna choose which books to take?"
Oh, he knew her too well.
"I don't know." Connecticut's voice was strained, the decision, or rather, indecision, pained her and she wished that there was a way she could take them all. "I hope they have a library out there, even if it is just full of field manuals."
"Pff. I'd love to see your face when you find out that they don't have one." That earned him a small kick aimed his way, catching him on the shin. They soon fell into silence, each nursing their mugs of tea, sat on the floor. It was a comfortable silence that would suffice for their farewells. Neither of them had ever been much good at saying goodbye. When they were both done sipping the hot drinks and only the dregs were left, he gathered their mugs, pulled the brunette into a hug and left, whistling quietly to himself as he walked away.
It took her a while to sort through her books, but she eventually decided on three to bring with her. Two she could never get tired of reading, and one that she had yet to read. They were all old classics, but she loved them and could never bear to part with them. They were what got her through military school when nothing else could, and she could always trust them to be there, as long as she made sure she brought them where ever life took her.
And life, it seemed, had decided to take her to Project Freelancer.