Chapter 4 – New Look, Left Hook
I had been instructed by F.I.L.S.S my first night on board the Mother of Invention, to report for armour and weapon assignment the next morning at 0800. After sleeping rather well considering everything, I woke at my usual time of 0500 and decided to hit the gym before breakfast. New Mexico had pointed it out to me the previous day during my 'tour' of the ship, along with a comment about it being reserved for Freelancer Agents only. Which meant that it was completely empty at the time I arrived there. Obviously the boys like their sleep-ins.
I warmed up with some Yoga and then started some cardio work on a treadmill. I still hadn't found any headphones to play the music off my tablet through, so I put it on the oddly-named 'Party starter' setting; listening to my usual workout mix comprising of mostly AC/DC, David Guetta and Red Foo tracks. After running at a full-sprint for thirty minutes I stretched out my legs before starting on weights. I'd never been a petite woman; with my wide-shoulders and six-foot height, so I was lifting quite a lot with the added bonus of my rural upbringing and military career. Following weights came some leg work, because like everyone says, you shouldn't skip leg day. Squats and lunges were then proceeded by crunches and star-jumps, push-ups and sit-ups. I then spent some time hitting the punching bag in the corner of the gym, followed by some relaxed stretching and light meditation. The whole workout took exactly an hour and a half, like every other time, I had a very good internal clock.
I entered the ill-fated mess hall after a quick shower and change. It was spotless, and anyone who hadn't been in attendance wouldn't have even considered the previous night's chaos possible. There were no Freelancer Agents seated among the thin scattering of personnel at the tables; obviously 0700 was too early for them to wake as well. After a quick, incident free wait in the food line, I collected a tray and loaded it up with a bowl of porridge, a bowl of cereal and milk, two slices of toast with peanut butter, a handful of bacon, three fried eggs, two hash browns and a huge cup of orange juice. The crew member next to me in line stared at my tray in disbelief at the sheer mountain of food I had. I just gave him a toothy smile before sitting down at an empty table and hoeing into my breakfast. I'd learn long ago to each as much as possible, whenever possible, because you never knew when your next meal might be. Countless missions as a Combat Medic had taught me so.
While I was eating I typed up my journal report on my tablet I'd brought in with me. The Counsellor; whom I'd met after my introduction to the Director the previous day, had suggested that I keep up a journal on my 'feelings' and 'thoughts' about the Project and its Agents. I'd seen this as the obvious information fishing that it was, and so I'd decided instead to type out as many of my memories from my 'Old Reality' as possible, that way I'd never forget them. Well unless I lost my tablet, so I'd have to find a way to back-up the data. I'd spent a good portion of the night after dinner learning about the technology in this alternate universe's future. Most of it was simple but I didn't have access to a server where I could upload my reports. Maybe I can find Alpha and ask him where to store it? I questioned myself.
By the time I finished writing and eating it was 0730 and the other Freelancer's still hadn't arrived for breakfast. I considered the fact that we didn't have training until 0900 and so they probably wouldn't come in until the last possible moment for food. I returned to my room after dumping my tray, to return my tablet and pack away the last of my duffle bag's contents. Last night I had been happily surprised to see that it contained my small photo album that I always took on deployment; containing pictures of my family and friends, as well as a variety of the animals we had on the farm. At least I have something left to remember them by, I reminded myself.
I then headed out my room and through the relatively empty halls towards the armoury. It didn't surprise me that there weren't many people around since the Project had only started a bit over a week prior. I wondered who the six new Freelancers would be coming in a fortnight.Any thoughts I had about the matter dissipated when I arrived at the heavily-reinforced doors of the armoury. My biometrics had been scanned and uploaded into the system the day before, so I just pressed my palm against the proffered keypad and was let inside. The room reminded me of a miniature version of the one in the Halo 4 Legendary ending; where Master Chief removes his armour. Instead of the hundreds of Spartan armour 'pods' in the game there were only six. Just enough for the quick addition or removal of armour for a regular squad.
There were three armour technicians waiting for me at the first one. I had been instructed that morning by F.I.L.S.S to wear the black gel-lined bodysuit provided to my armour fitting. Which made everything much less awkward for myself and the technicians I supposed, because I wouldn't have to squeeze into the tight bodysuit in front of them. I couldn't help but feel excited, as well as nervous, as I walked up to them and said a quick, "Good Morning." The technicians proved silent and just gestured for me to step into the centre of the arch way. At that point I couldn't tell what colour my armour would be, because it was stored underneath the floor, as well as the fact that I apparently didn't get to choose it.
I held myself still but limber, with my arms held up at shoulder length in a t-stance as instructed. Facing forward I heard whirring sounds as robotic arms and tools begun to attach the armour piece by piece, with the last one being a helmet with an orange-tinged visor that I found myself looking out of. After the technicians ran some diagnostics on their tablets, the mechanism then released me and I then gingerly took my first step forward. I remembered from Halo lore that these suits enhance body movements so I was very careful not to move suddenly. I wasn't sure whether or not if it was actually Mjolnir armour, but I considered it was most-likely not since I hadn't been genetically augmented for it like the Spartan-II's. Well not that I know of anyway.
I carefully walked towards where I had earlier seen a mirror to see what I looked like. My armour appeared to be entirely Mark-IV, and was a navy-blue with red and yellow accents on the shoulder, elbow, thigh and knee pieces. Quite similar colours to the state flag of Arizona, I thought amusedly. I looked awesome, and couldn't wait to test the limits of the suit, but first the technicians herded me towards the weapons area of the room. I was told to choose my preferred weapons so that I could then head into the target range for a few minutes of practice before regular training.
There were half a dozen tables with weapons of each category neatly lined up on each. I grabbed two M40 pistols and locked them to the magnetic holsters on my sides, followed by the SRS99C-S2 AMB semi-automatic sniper rifle which I locked onto my back plate. I found a small ammo bag that I filled with mags from my chosen weapons and attached to the small of my back. I then grabbed two KA-BAR knives, and half a dozen smaller throwing knives, slotting them into places throughout my armour. After I nodded to the technicians they lead me to a small weapons range with three stationary targets.
I just started off by loading a magazine into one of my pistols, switched the safety off via its link with my helmet, and fired at the target single-handedly. If I hadn't been wearing the suit the recoil would have surprised me. However I was wearing one and it compensated for the movement by steading my hand. I emptied the mag and every shot was a bullseye in the centre of the target's chest. After releasing the mag onto the floor, I then grabbed my second pistol in my left hand. Then I used a move that I'd practised for hours on end back during my various deployments to reload the two handguns at the same time. One of the reasons why I had just chosen the M40 was because the angle in which the mags were reloaded was nearly identical to that of weapons I'd previously used. It was a flashy move but one that was also useful, and one that had saved my life twice already on missions. The technicians must have also been impressed because I heard their muffled appreciative whispers through the muffled speakers of my helmet which had gone into 'target range mode' before I'd taken my first shot.
After once again emptying my clips into the targets while dual-wielding, I reloaded them in the same manner and then switched the safety's on via the neural link. It hadn't surprised me the previous night when I showered, that I'd found a slight bump at the back of my neck where a neural implant was present. This then linked me to my armour and onto any weapons I was using. Kinda feels like cheating with all these enhancements, I thought while holstering my handguns and removing the rifle off my back. As it was a gas-operated sniper rifle it had to be cocked before loading the SRS's four-round magazine. It was a rifle with a very slow reload and firing time, however it was one of the UNSC's most accurate and powerful ones. In the Halo games it was a one-hit kill on most players with headshots, and I only ever got headshots. So modest, I internally chuckled at myself.
The rifle was powerful enough to warrant some recoil, even with my armour on, as I quickly emptied the four rounds into the centre of the head of the target. I once again reloaded the rifle before locking it to its place on my back. I didn't feel the need to practice with my throwing knives at the time, figuring it was best to not show all my cards at once. I was then told by a technician to head to the main training after depositing my weapons in my locker, since it was almost 0900. How time flies when you're having fun.
The others had apparently already been into the armoury and suited up in the time I'd been in the target room, so they hadn't seen my armour until I walked in.
New Mexico whistled loudly in appreciation before saying, "That's a good look Arizona."
Nodding in thanks I joined them in the centre of the room where they had formed into a rough circle, Georgia and Florida stepping to the side to let me stand between them.
"So ladies, looking forward to those broken bones Wyoming was talking bout last night?" Maine growled out while making a threatening gesture.
Florida clapped me on the back hard before laughing and calling out, "F.I.L.S.S, how about we get this party started?"