(A/N) It's a Saturday and y'all know what that means by this stage! You got it, it's another update! Presenting the aftermath of the rigorous training excercise that they had all just taken part in is Agent Pennsylvania, or Penn, written by the marvellous Jerem6401. Will the results surprise you? Read on to find out!

This chapter brings an end to our first arc, which I had code-named Introduction. On Wednesday will come a new chapter, opening our new arc, which will be longer than this one, which I have taken to calling...Simulation. Any guesses on what we have in store for you?

One last thing. For those who have picked up on it, I have been editing these chapters to European spelling. For example, "color" has been changed to "colour", "armor" to "armour", "center" to "centre" etc. The only thing I have left in Americanised spelling is "Counselor", simply because this is a characters name. These are not typos. I have no real reason for doing this, it's just easier for me while editing them to change them to this form.


Chapter Nine – The Best Freelancer

Agent Pennsylvania

Written by Jerem6401


"It's not rage that drives me, it's competition." – Lennox Lewis


I could see them avoiding me, staring at me, whispering about me. Not like I give a damn. It was in my nature to be this agitated after a training session. Aggression is what drives me… what can drive any soldier to be their best. I'm not used to ending a session by hearing "Training Complete." I'm used to two or three allies ripping me away from a victim while screaming "That's enough Ca–"

No.

I suppose that's not my name anymore. Agent Pennsylvania… that's what they started calling me. I guess I could say friends call me "Penn." If I considered anyone here to be a friend.

We are Freelancers. Elite soldiers hand-picked by the Director to be the killing blow in the war. We have a job. It sickens me to see so much potential wasted by being all buddy-buddy with other soldiers. York and Carolina flirt like god damn teenagers out a stroll through the park, Florida lives in some fantasy land where everything's perfect, and Wyoming floats around the Mother of Invention spitting knock-knock jokes out his ass all day. Massachusetts is the worst of the bunch. Acting like a sister to everyone on board, like she's trying to win some popularity contest. It looks like the only one here I might coexist with is Alaska. He seems like someone who knows that we're here to do a job. Virginia is quiet, and I can't quite tell anything about her quite yet. She didn't impress me too much on the training floor… but I'm nervous she might be smarter than she appears.

The locker room was clean, with every surface being a borderline mirror. I wasn't used to such conditions. I preferred the dirt and sweat of the army barracks. I guess this would have to be home for now. I had never been stationed on a spacecraft before, let alone been in anything to the scale of the Mother of Invention. The Director had a lot of funding… I just hope he invested it in the right resources.

The training session was much more rigorous than I imagined. I knew I outshined the others… or at least most of them. But Carolina… something about her was different. I could just tell. Her performance was amazing, like some kind of super-soldier. And it… it's just not fair! I should be the best one here! Not her!

"Attention all members of Project Freelancer." I looked up at the ceiling at the small speaker that fed us the Director's voice. The others jumped to attention as well. I heard York groan at the thought of another training session. I looked back down to see his face, but he had already put his helmet back on, like he was expecting the session to begin in the locker room. Before I looked up again I met eyes with Alaska… only for a second before he broke the contact, and looked at the speaker as well.

"You are all to report to the conference chambers in Section 44 immediately," the Director ordered. I looked at my helmet on the bench next to me, the visor giving me a clear, reflected view of the other Freelancers in the room. I shook my head at the thought of another training session, knowing it was my chance to prove I was better than the others. I started to make myself angry again. Get myself ready for the upcoming challenge.

"Hey, Penn!" I heard from the across the room. My eyes shot open as I snapped back to reality. Florida was standing in front of me, his blue armour reflecting off of all the pristine surfaces around us. He reached his hand out to me, while the other was placed firmly on his hip.

"You coming? On the double, buddy!"

I could feel myself getting angry, but a fight with another Freelancer wasn't going to get me any more recognition from the Director… not unless he called for it. I reached out and grabbed hold of my helmet before pushing myself up off the bench. I slid the helmet over my head, hearing a rushing sound as it sealed itself to the rest of my armour. The visor distorted everything with a yellowish tint before my HUD came online. Details about Florida's health status and vitals flashed across my screen, like I was supposed to be looking out for his ass if we were ever in battle. I walked past him, knocking his left should back as I passed.

"Let's just go," I murmured. Florida didn't respond, and I wouldn't be surprised if my message didn't get across. That guy's head was thick. Even a bomb taking out half the MOI wouldn't ruin his day. I fell in behind Wyoming as we made our way deeper into the ship. We walked single file, except, of course, for Carolina and York who walked side-by-side at the front. Carolina seemed to know her way around much better than anyone else. Not like this place wasn't a god damned maze to begin with.

"Wonder what the Director has in mind for us now," Wyoming began. I knew his words were directed at me, even though he didn't turn his head. Besides his ungodly jokes, I didn't mind Wyoming that much. He always seemed like he was keeping something to himself. It was mysterious, and almost questionable whether or not I could trust him… I liked it.

"Don't know, don't care," I replied. "The Director isn't going to take me by surprise, no matter how hard he tries." Wyoming chuckled and shook his head slightly. The cocky prick.

"We'll see about that, old chap." We kept walking as the signs on the walls next to us faded through the numbers until we reached 44. The conference chamber in here had nothing but a small projection table in the centre of the room, and a massive screen floating in the air, which was currently dimmed to a pitch black. We walked into the room, and like mice, flocked to the only structure in the centre. It could have been a trap for all we knew, but what did it matter. We were all just tools needed to solve a problem anyways.

"What the hell is this all about?" Alaska blurted out. York approached the table in the middle of the room and put his hands on it. He leaned forward and looked around.

"Maybe it's some kind of verbal test?" he suggested. "You know, like testing something other than our physical abilities."

"Yeah," Florida started, "like a team-building exercise? That would be just great!"

"Whatever you say, Butch," Massa chimed in. "Whatever it is, let's just get it done. Impress the Director, you know?"

"You already have," a voice called out. Like a ghost, the Director emerged from the shadows. Even with my HUD silhouetting his body, his appearance still startled me. "I was greatly satisfied with your performance on the training floor. Some of you…" he looked at Carolina for a moment, "more than others." He turned his head to Virginia, who instantly broke the eye contact and looked away towards the floor. Even her helmet couldn't hide the fact that she was blushing, and her vitals on my HUD began to pick up.

"So what if we did well?" York asked, like the Director was some old buddy of his. "We win a prize or something like that."

"Back in line, Agent New York!" the Director yelled. York put up his hands and stepped backwards.

"Yes, sir," he agreed. I was close enough to hear him when he leaned towards Carolina and spoke under his breath. "Someone has a stick up their ass." She didn't respond, but something made me think she was smiling under that mask.

"This is not a prize," the Director continued, "nor is it a punishment. This is simply a way to keep track of your progress as a soldier, and an asset to Project Freelancer." He reached out the table in front of him and pressed a button. The beeping sound that emitted from it was immediately overtaken by the massive screen above us. It lit up to a bright blue, which illuminated the entire rom around us. Several bars appeared on the screen with the numbers one through eight listed next to each one in order. Suddenly our names began to appear next to the numbers. It became disturbingly apparent to me that this was not a list… this was a ranking.

It wasn't surprising to me than Virginia was at the bottom, and again her vitals peaked, although I couldn't tell whether it was with shame or anger, when the other names appeared. Next up on the list was Florida, followed by Massachusetts. Again this didn't surprise me. As I've said before, being someone's friend doesn't make you a better soldier. You need to be ruthless to get anywhere. Seeing them at the bottom warmed my heart a bit… but I was shattered when the next name appeared on screen.

"What?!" I yelled. "Number 5?!"

"Calm down, Penn," York began, "not like this really means anything."

"Actually, York," the Director interrupted. "This scoreboard means everything. Only the top agents are sent into the field. I'm sorry Agent Pennsylvania, but if the mission calls for four, Agent Alaska will be entering the field, not you." I looked at Alaska, and I knew he could see me getting angry on his HUD.

"What's the problem, Penn," he started, "can't handle a little competition." Suddenly the rest of the names appeared, placing Alaska at fourth, York in third, Wyoming in second, and not surprisingly, Carolina was in first. I turned to Alaska, grinding my teeth together.

"You should keep your comments to yourself, Alaska," I growled. "You'll live longer." He turned to face me, and we were now only a few feet from each other. Our visors couldn't stop the eye contact as we tried to stare each other down.

"You don't scare me, Penn," he remarked.

"Then you don't know me well enough," I quietly replied.

"Enough!" yelled the Director. "Pennsylvania! Any problems you have with the current scoreboard can be remedied in future training sessions. Prove you're better than Alaska and you may earn your spot above him."

"Harsh," York commented.

"Hey c'mon," Florida began, "it could be a fun way to challenge each other."

"It is not to start a war," the Director finished. "It is so every Freelancer knows their place." We all looked at one another. Now there was a rank? A solid vision of who was better. The worst part is the Director thought there were four. He thought there were four people better than me!

"Director," Carolina called out. "Don't you think this seems a bit unfair? To put your soldiers in a compromised position like this? It's a massive blow to our trust in one another."

"We're done for today," the Director ordered. "You will learn your place, Agent Carolina! Do not question my authority on-board my own vessel. Unless you want Wyoming to take your place?" Carolina looked towards Wyoming who had his arms folded. He chuckled a bit and turned back to the Director.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said quietly. "I won't interrupt again."

"Good," he finished. "Dismissed." I looked at Alaska once again before he turned his head and walked out of the room. That bastard. He wasn't going to pretend like he was better than me. I'd show him… I'd show the Director… I'd show everyone. Suddenly I felt someone's hand on my shoulder as they passed. Pushing me slightly as they made their way to the door. I turned my head to see Massa making her way to the exit.

"You better watch out, Penn," she said in a snarky tone. "You're only one slot ahead of me. Next thing you know, we'll be painting a big number '6' on the back of your head." She turned away and walked out, followed by everyone else. I stood alone in the room, the scoreboard silhouetting my shadow on the ground in front of me. I closed my eyes and closed my hand into a fist. It almost hurt… and I wanted it to. The Director can't understand what he's done to me. I would prove I'm better than them. I had to prove I was better than them. I'm not one to just sit back and let this happen…

I'm the best Freelancer…