(A/N) Update time, yet again, and with this chapter we'll be kicking off Arc Two: Simulation. We have some big things in store for you guys, so please keep on reading. Loving the support from the community, and in a few weeks we'll have a big announcement about the next batch of Freelancers to take part in this story. But that's still a bit of a ways off yet. Until then though, you're just going to have to satisfy yourselves with this little chapter, from the Director's point of view, revealing the next step for project Freelancer. Would also like to thank all of those reading for doing just that, as I would like to announce, with some pride, that we passed out 1,500 views yesterday, and hopefully by this time two weeks we'll have passed out two thousand!

Enjoy!


Chapter Ten - The Next Step

The Director

Written by NicKenny


"I find that the best way to do things is to constantly move forward and to never doubt anything and keep moving forward, if you make a mistake say you made a mistake." - John Frusciante


The day after the agents were introduced to the leaderboard I was running through an overview of our current progress with F.I.L.S.S., focusing particularly on the progress of our simulation program. The Counselor had coined some ridiculous term for this program, calling them "red versus blue wars" which, to my distaste, had been taken up by several members of our personnel on board the Mother of Invention, including F.I.L.S.S. herself.

So far, progress had been promising, our bases complete and fully-manned, running through the various scenarios we had organised for them to keep them busy until we had further use for them. And very soon, we would. My plans were already in motion. It was time to move on to the next step.

But first, I had to deal with a few problems before we were ready to take the plunge.

"F.I.L.S.S. please send Agent Virginia in, would you?" I asked, wearily settling down into my chair, flicking through various frames on my data-pad absentmindedly.

"Of course, Director," she replied, presumably messaging Virginia at the same time. I often wondered how we coped before the creation of AI's, even "dumb" ones. Aboard the Mother of Invention, F.I.L.S.S. had proved indispensable.

In less than five minutes the doors whooshed open to admit Agent Virginia into the room. She strolled in, clad in full dark green armour with dark red trim, her face masked behind her visor, snapping off a crisp salute when she reached my desk.

"At ease Agent," I wearily stated, waving a hand dismissively, watching her hands fall to her sides and her shoulders drop as she slid into a more comfortable stance.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she murmured, and, while I couldn't tell whether or not she was meeting my gaze underneath her helmet, I somehow doubted it.

I smiled thinly, staring at her over steepled fingers. "Yes, Agent, I did. I hope you've had the time to dwell on the leaderboard. No doubt you've formed your own opinions at this stage. Could I ask for your honest opinion on these rankings?"

Virginia stared at me for a moment, clearing undergoing some sort of internal struggle before suddenly blurting out, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

I nod slowly. "Permission granted."

Virginia nodded, then raised her arms and fiddled with the back of her helmet for a moment, found the clasps she was looking for, and slid off her helmet, revealing the young woman beneath the armour.

She wasn't much to look at, I must admit, but that applied for all of our Agents. Not one of them had anything about them that screamed highly-trained Special-Ops super soldier. Well, maybe Agent Pennsylvania, but that was only due to his immense size. And even with that, others had impressed me more in the training-room.

Green eyes, darker than my own or Agent Carolina's. Tanned skin, no doubt a result of exposure on planet's she had served on previously while in the UNSC. Black hair with one ridiculous looking neon-blue stripe dyed into it.

All in all, nothing about her suggested that she was anything more than a young woman from one of the Outer Colonies, whose only concerns involved where the next pay-check was coming from and what club to go to next Friday night.

Indeed, if I didn't have her test scores on my data-pad in front of me, along with a collection of currently streaming muted videos from her brief period in the marines, I myself would struggle to believe that this…girl had any place on this ship.

"Those rankings are bullshit, sir," she said, her eyes finally meeting my gaze, her mouth set in a line of grim determination. "There's no way in hell that I deserved to be last."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "Really? Then who would you have suggested?"

She raised her hands theatrically, shrugging slightly. "There's no doubt that everyone deserves to be here, but other than Carolina, Florida and maybe Alaska, all of the others made mistakes. Wyoming took way too long to take down those soldiers, preferring not play it safe and not take any risks. Penn potentially gave them a killing shot, just to demonstrate his physical strength. Massa actually got hit by a paint fleck, and didn't demonstrate any flair at all in her run! York…York actually bribed the soldiers into letting him take them out, a tactic that certainly won't apply on the battlefield!"

She stopped, suddenly aware of how loud her voice had become, and shrugged apologetically. "At least, that's how I see it, sir."

At least she's not unintelligent, I mused, staring at her for a moment, choosing my words. If only she was able to see the bigger picture.

"All of your observations were correct, Agent Virginia, that I cannot deny. However, I can't help but feel that you might have missed out on something here."

She frowned, her brow wrinkling in confusion as she puzzles over my statement. "What do you mean, sir?" she eventually replies.

"Did it ever occur to you that there was a reason behind why each of you were selected for this program? Agent Carolina's test scores were off the charts, so there was little hesitation there and I don't think that even you could deny that she deserves to be our Number One. We needed a demolitions expert, as most military operations do, and the UNSC had few operatives better than Agent Florida. His little demonstration with that frag grenade demonstrated his intelligence and was a testament to his ability."

I saw her nod along to what I was saying, although the reasons that I was giving her were, in truth, only half-reasons behind my selections of those operatives. But the other half I firmly intended on keeping to myself.

"Agent Wyoming's wariness is due to his experiences as an ODST sniper on Sansar. He has learnt that, in a real battle, haste gets you killed. Pennsylvania was chosen precisely because of his physical prowess. There will be times when your weapons won't serve you and then you will be happy to have a close combat specialist on your team. Massachusetts' experience is that of a combat medic, a soldier with a defensive mentality, not the offensive one that the rest of you seem to cherish. You'll be happy to have her by your side too, should the time come. Finally, Agent York was chosen as an infiltration specialist. The fact that he was able to think so quickly on his feet, and his knowledge of the human mind, only makes me more confident in my selection of him."

I stop, lecture finished, and stare at her for another moment.

"And Alaska?"

I frown, not entirely welcoming this question, or all that pleased with the sudden disappearance of the word "sir".

"Agent Alaska shone on the training floor, as you yourself admitted. He was chosen for a reason, just as the rest of you were, but for the meantime that shall remain known only to me, until we have a need for his…abilities."

I saw her pause, stiffening up a little at this curt response, but she nodded slowly in acceptance before looking up again once more.

"Why was I selected?"

I stare at her for a moment, one eyebrow raised in reprimand, and she quickly inclines her head in apology.

"Sir."

"You were selected for a myriad of reasons, Agent Virginia. I have no doubt that you've been wondering why you were chosen, while your sister, whose test scores were…noticeably higher, was not?"

She nods, clearly not trusting herself to speak up at this point. Her eyes are misting up slightly, no doubt missing her twin. Well I could sympathise with that. I knew what it was like to miss someone…

"I've followed your career for a long time, Agent. While you never shone in the same way that your sister had, your test scores where still remarkably high. When you factor into this equation the fact that you've spent you entire life living in your sister's shadow, I must confess. I was intrigued. Your sister had reached the limits of her potential, never having to push past any obstacles in her life. You however, were a different story."

I could see her clinging to every word that comes out of my mouth, not entirely able to believe what I was saying. This was probably the most honest that I've been with her, up to this point, but I still couldn't reveal the entirety of my reasoning behind her selection.

"I began to wonder that if we separated you from her, how much more would you improve? How much more could you give if you were removed from her shadow, and allowed to grow in the light? The reason why you are bottom of that leaderboard, Virginia, is not because you were the worst agent on the day, but because you only gave it your best."

I could see confusion start to settle on her face, but I quickly raised my hand to prevent her from speaking. "I mean to say that you only gave the best from the person you were before you came into this project. I know that I have yet to see the best of Agent Virginia."

She stared at me, unmoving, before finally nodding. She slowly placed her helmet back on her head, her features once more hidden behind the bronze visor.

"I understand, Director."

With that, I dismissed her, watching her as she left the room, wondering if she truly did.

We can but hope, I decided, then turned back to my work. There was still so much to do after all.

"I think I'm starting to like her."

I sigh, raising my hand to my forehead in exasperation. "You like everyone F.I.L.S.S. You were programmed to like everyone. What use would I have for an AI that continually insulted the personnel on this ship?"

The AI was silent for a moment, no doubt affronted by the tone in my voice. Why I created an AI with issues about manners, I cannot begin to remember or even suspect. I no doubt had good intentions at the time…

"The Counselor is here to see you, sir," she murmured, her voice still containing a slight edge of disapproval to it, not yet willing to consign my rudeness to the past.

"Send him in F.I.L.S.S." I sigh wearily after giving her these orders. What does he want now?" I wondered grimly, taking a brief moment to compose myself before he came in. It was only a minute or two before he strolled in, a serious look on his face.

"Director, I see you've moved the simulation program ahead of the pre-agreed schedule," he intoned, trembling slightly with what I assume must be anger, but his slight frame makes this look more comical than intimidating, and I had to undergo a brief struggle to prevent a smile forming on my face.

"Yes, Counselor. I feel that, after yesterday's training assignment, the agents are ready for something a little more…challenging."

The Counselor was shaking his head before I had even finished speaking. "Any and all schedule changes are to be discussed with me first! You can't just authorise this sort of thing without running it by me first!"

Now I let myself smile, genuinely enjoying the moment. "Actually Counselor, you'll find that I can."

He paused, his moment of anger forgotten as he stared at me, unable to understand what I had meant. "I…I'm sorry Director, I don't follow. I was assigned to this project by the UNSC exactly for moments like this! The agents are not ready for a field test, and in my opinion some of them never will be!"

My smile only grew wider and I shook my head in mock-sympathy. "My dear Counselor, your opinion is not required in this instance. I knew that you would be…hesitant over this decision, so I went above you."

I paused for a moment, allowing the meaning of my words to sink in. When I saw understanding finally dawn in his eyes, I leaned forward and continued with my speech. "The UNSC responsible for liaising with this project, and in particular, Chairman D'Atombe, agreed with my suggestions that we advance the training schedule for our agents. The results of yesterday's exercise have convinced them to see things my way. So yes, the simulation program is being moved ahead of schedule. I have no doubt that our agents are up for it."

The Counselor just stared at me, disbelief evident in his features. His mouth took on a grim twist and he finally spat out: "Well I'm afraid I don't share your beliefs, Director. These agents are not ready for anything as gruelling as the planned simulation program. There is too much that could go wrong in such an exercise, and the agents still haven't had time to familiarise themselves with their armour or their team-mates. If you send them out like this, the way they are now, someone is going to die. And I won't let that be on my head."

"Counselor, do you really believe that I would be so reckless as to endanger the lives of my agents? We won't reach the planet that the UNSC have assigned to us for training purposes for another week at earliest. The agents still have time to train and get to know one another. To move forward, certain risks must be taken. I believe in my agents and their capacity to outdo your expectations, Counselor. I have the UNSC's backing in this. So are you going to help me in this, or hinder me?"

The Counselor looked down at his data-pad, sighing heavily, and raised his free hand in order to massage his temple. "Very well then, Director, but I still believe that we're moving too fast."

I lean back in my chair, taking off my glasses and rubbing my eyes wearily. "I understand," I put my glasses back on, slowly stood up, and turned to look out through the observation deck, staring out into the black abyss of space. "We are moving faster than I would like, Counselor, whether you believe it or not. The simple fact remains: we are at war. I'm not talking about the Insurrection against our society, but a fight with an alien race for the very survival of our species. We have to push them, because there is no alternative. We simply do not have the time to play it safe."

He nodded, a look of understanding on his face. He sighed again, shrugging weakly. "I am sorry, Director. It is not my place to question your decisions. You are right, of course. I was not seeing the bigger picture."

He turned and left, and I continued to stare out into space. "F.I.L.S.S.," I murmur quietly. "Prepare a new journal entry, would you?"

"Of course, Director," there is a brief pause. "Recording now."

I nod in thanks and begin, letting out the emotions that I've been struggling with all day.

"This is Director Leonard Church of Project Freelancer. Progress has gone well today, and I believe I have solved several of the problems that had been plaguing me up until now. Today I have been reminded, all too much, of the fact that no matter how we prepare, we never have enough time…"


A week later, I was standing in the same spot, but this time, instead of staring out at empty space, my eyes were locked on the planet before us. It resembled Earth in so many ways, its oceans a vivid blue, the land ranging from the darkest of browns to the white of ice-caps. The only way it differed was that the continents were all out of shape, like someone had torn them apart, reshaping them to suit their own will.

Its name was Eris, discovered forty years ago but was ruled out for colonisation due to its relative isolation. But that precise trait made it perfect for a military testing ground, and the UNSC had been testing out weapons and organising simulation missions for years. It seemed somewhat fitting that Project Freelancer would be able to do the same.

"Director, the team has assembled," the Counselor intoned next to me, his face serious, data-pad by his side.

I turned to him, nodding in acknowledgement. "Very well, then."

We slowly walked over to the assembled agents, all huddled around the metallic table that dominated the centre of the room, glowing a deep blue. I waved a hand towards the Counselor, who quickly flicked through his data-pad, and suddenly the table began to hum, projecting an image of a boxed canyon, one side opening to accommodate a seemingly endless supply of water, with two circular structures at either end, with a huge spire protruding from the heart of these bases.

"Agents, welcome to outposts 17-A and B, codenamed Valhalla. Here, you'll partake in your first simulation mission. You will be split up into two teams. Team A will consist of Agents Carolina, Wyoming, Pennsylvania and Alaska. Team B will be made up of York, Massachusetts, Virginia and Florida. Carolina and York will lead their respective teams."

Around me, I notice the various agents nod to each other, each team mentally sizing up the other. I could see the confident aura that surrounded Team A. No doubt they saw themselves as favourites here. Unsurprising, really. The three agents at the bottom of the leaderboard were all on Team B. Still, I wouldn't rule out either team.

I cleared my throat and continued my speech. "The objective is simple, capture the flag. Team A will have to capture the flag from the Blue base, Team B will have to take the Red's."

Each base lit up as I mentioned them, shining white against the blue background. "I'm sure you're all familiar with the goals of this sort of exercise. First team to capture their designated flag, wins. It's that simple."

Virginia suddenly spoke up, surprising me slightly. "How many tangos are we looking at, sir?"

I smiled, having expected this question. "I'm not going to say. For all extents and purposes, other than this map, you'll be going in blind. You won't know the enemies numbers, their whereabouts, their weaponry or their capabilities. This is first contact, agents. It's time to step up to the level that you all assumed when you took on the title Freelancer."

Wyoming then coughed lightly from the back of the group, his visor staring straight at me. "How about our weapons, sir? Will we be using paint guns again?"

"No, Agent Wyoming. Not this time. Your guns will be fitted with blanks and infra-red sights. When you score a direct hit, the simulation troopers' armour will go into Armour-Lock, effectively rendering them immobile."

"Will they carry similarly adapted weapons?" Carolina this time, focusing on the most crucial aspect of this mission. How very like her.

Ismiled this time, shaking my head slowly. "No, Carolina, their weapons will contain live ammunition. The simulation is designed to protect them, not you. If any of you get hit from a simulation trooper, quite frankly you don't deserve to take part in this project."

I raised my head, staring directly at the assembled soldiers. "The training ends now, agents. There is no more room for error. No more second chances. If you make a mistake now, you're going to pay for it. Having said that, do you have any more questions?"

I stared at them for a moment, but none of them moved, a heavy silence having settled over all assembled, no doubt reflecting on the meaning of what I had just said.

"Very well then. Team A will escorted by pilot Four Seven Niner, Team B by pilot 343-R. You have three hours before take-off. I advise you to prepare yourself mentally for this mission. Show me that you have earned your place here. Prove to me that you truly are the best of the best. Dismissed."

The agents filed out, but I called York and Carolina back before they could leave. They stood to attention before me, exuding confidence, and I couldn't help the slight smile that formed on my face. "Agents, you know the mission, you know your team. I cannot prepare you any more for this. Make sure that you control your teams, and complete this objective as quickly as you can. Other than that, I can only wish you luck. May the best team win!"

They nodded to me and I dismissed them for a final time, watching them banter with each other as they left the room. The Counselor walked over to me, a worried expression on his face.

"I still don't think they're ready," he murmured, not meeting my eyes.

I sighed heavily, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Not this same old argument again, Counselor, please. They're as ready as they ever will be. They will complete the objective, and we will be one step further on this road that we are travelling."

He looked up at me, unable to keep the reproaching look off his face. "I just can't help but feel that some agents, Pennsylvania and Alaska in particular, are just not ready for a team-based assignment. They have strongly resisted all attempts to assimilate into the group, and, given their service records, that's not surprising."

"Both agents have done well in training, Counselor. I have confidence that Agent Carolina will be able to restrain them, should the time come."

"I hope you're right, Director. For all our sakes."

I sigh. "I hope so too."

We stood there for a moment, staring at the leaderboard that had been placed next to the holographic table. I turned to the Counselor, my face grave once more. "I need you to do something for me, Counselor."

"Of course, Director. What is it?"

I turned away, staring back out at Eris, frowning as I stared at its familiar, and yet alien, surface. "I need you to go down onto the planet and visit the Command Facility in the planet's northern hemisphere. We have several armourers there, working on suits based on those we…received from ONI. The sim troopers that our agents are going to surprise have already been outfitted, but I need you to do a thorough report on progress in that facility. For obvious reasons, I don't want to have to use the more typical means of communication in order to contact those involved."

He stared at me for a moment, clearly reluctant to accept this assignment. Eventually, he gave in, sighing as he did so. "Very well then Director, I will do this. On one condition: the agents are not to be sent out on another Simulation Mission until I return."

I could see the determination in his eyes, the grim line his mouth was set in. "We have an agreement, Counselor. We will await your return before organising another mission. You have my word."

He nodded to me, and turned away, contacting the pilots and informing them of their new assignment. I turned back to the leaderboard, its blue surface reflected of my glasses. "And so we begin the next step," I murmur, running a hand through my hair.

"We will see if these soldiers are up to the task. We will see if they fail and fall, or succeed and rise. We will see if they truly are Freelancers."