(A/N) Hey guys, NicKenny here, bringing you a fabulous new update from the first of our new writers, BrambleStar14, and introducing us to the perspective of Agent California! We've got surprises in store for you over the upcoming weeks, so stay tuned and keep up-to-date with this fic!
Also, we're still looking for writers for both our Grifball fic and our proposed X-Ray and Vav fic, so if anyone's interested, either message me or head on over to our forum! Deadline for Grifball applicants is Monday 27th of May.
Also, hope you've all seen the RvB Season 11 teaser trailer! If not, head on to YouTube and check it out immediately!
Enjoy!
Chapter Forty – The Melting Pot
Agent California
Written by BrambleStar14
"We become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams." – Jimmy Carter
California looked around as he and the others in their small group were led down yet another narrow hallway, lined with grey steel walls, topped by a grey steel roof. They were walking along a polished grey steel floor, their reflections easily visible, especially with the new armour that diverged wildly between agents for some random reason that Cal could not quite put his metaphorical finger on.
The chick at the front of the group, Carolina (Again, Cal had to wonder; was that North Carolina or South Carolina?) continued to lead them on, swaggering forwards as if to tell them all how much better she was. Cal had no doubts in that regard, not after the fight they had just seen. Eventually, she turned around as they reached a large anonymous grey door, no different from anything else on this ship. She smiled at them, but Cal doubted any of them were really put at ease. After what she had done to those other two, that smile belonged a predator sizing up her prey, seeing which would be easiest to go for first.
"Alright," she said, gesturing towards the door, creepy smile still in place. "Beyond this door is the ship's canteen. You will sit at your designated table and wait until further instructions." She certainly had a way with words, Cal thought, as he allowed her voice to blur inside his head. Again, he glanced down at the armour that now adorned his body and marvelled at its superiority compared to that used by standard military. He heard Carolina finally stop talking and looked up to see the door ahead hiss open.
The group stepped forwards into the canteen, led by Carolina, who was smiling rather woodenly around. Cal quickly looked around, getting his bearings. It was a large room, very tall and lined with pillars near the steel walls, except for a large screen on one wall that showed what appeared to be some sort of leader board. Cal's eyes travelled down the list, unsurprised as they rested on the number one spot: Carolina. Pennsylvania was second, followed by Wyoming, York, Florida, Virginia, Alaska and Massachusetts. Carolina followed his eyes to the board and smirked.
At the end of the room was the food collection area, where a queue had formed for whatever was on offer that day. It reminded Cal of a school canteen, come to think of it. A large amount of tables were positioned very neatly and very tidily around the room, hundreds of them, filled with people both in armour and out of it. One table near the centre had a group of armoured soldiers sat at it, laughing, joking, talking and sometimes glaring at each other.
As the new group entered, everyone seemed to fall silent. The new freelancers seemed to huddle together more as everyone's eyes turned to them, sizing them up. Some of the new agents shifted uncomfortably and Cal could see that even the old Freelancers were watching the new group. Annoyance bubbled up inside of him. How dare these soldiers try to embarrass them, when they had no doubt gone through a similar experience!
"Well," his voice rang out and the crowd seemed to turn to him, causing nervous twitches inside of his brain. "I must have missed this bit on the schedule. One o' clock, stare at new arrivals!" He stared at them pointedly and slowly, the noise levels started to increase as people turned back to their meals. Cal rolled his eyes as he turned back to Carolina, noting uncomfortably that the original Freelancers were still watching them curiously, murmuring to each other out of the corner of their mouths.
Carolina led them across to a table not too far away from where the other freelancers were sitting. She glanced over them all one last time, before leaving without a word and walking over to the other table, where the freelancers all started talking to her, apparently very keen to know what their new teammates were like. California snorted, before turning back to his own group, none of whom seemed to want to initiate a conversation first.
Eventually, the petite blonde girl, Michigan, spoke to the group.
"So, this is Freelancer," she said reservedly. The group seemed to take that as their cue to start talking to each other.
"Seems that way," grinned Georgia as he glanced around at the others. Cal raised his eyebrows; he was certainly excited about the project. Georgia turned to the blonde girl next to him and asked, "What about you? Excited?"
She looked at him, before shrugging. "Whatever really," she said, apparently bored with the conversation. "I guess. What about you?"
Georgia nodded rapidly. Cal could swear that he was either high on something or had just drunk too much caffeine.
"Well, you seemed pretty excited about it when we first heard about it," teased the similar looking guy clad in purple armour sitting next to her. "She kept jumping up and down." He grinned as his sister punched him lightly in the arm. "
"Seems that the others are interested in us," stated Arkansas quietly as he glanced across the room. Cal and the others followed his gaze until he noticed Carolina and her group staring at them curiously. Determinedly, Cal turned back to Arkansas.
"What you here for then?" he asked and Arkansas grinned. "I need to be a better soldier. The project can help with that."
South however, seemed to want to interrupt people, breaking up the conversation before it could start.
"Oh yeah? How far would you go?" The atmosphere seemed to drop by several degrees. North was frowning at his sister while Georgia was sitting back. Michigan seemed to just want to stay out of it. Maine had looked up curiously. Minnesota was watching with slight concern on his face, as he was sat directly to Arkansas' left and would likely get caught in any crossfire. Cal decided there and then that he didn't really like South Dakota. Arkansas simply frowned and turned to Minnesota, apparently keeping out of it.
'But', though Cal as he turned to get up and saw one of the older freelancer standing in the queue, watching them, 'you can't always avoid things'. He walked over and stood in the queue, watching as some of the others in his group got up to do the same.
"So," said an easy-going voice next to him. "How's things with the rookies?" Cal turned to see a grinning man in tan armour leaning next to him. Cal raised his eyebrows and the man laughed, before extending his hand. "Relax, I'm messing with you. Agent New York, or York to most people."
Cal reached out and grabbed his hand. "California. So, how's things with the information gathering." York laughed again and Cal smirked. "I see that new agents cause quite a stir around here."
York nodded. "That they do. Some people," he muttered what sounded like "Carolina" under his breath. "Get really jumpy. Start to worry about being replaced."
"Until they saw the group of incompetent idiots that stepped through the door?" Cal guessed and York chuckled.
"Oh dear," he said suddenly and Cal followed his eyes to see a frowning Carolina. "Listen, I've got to go before Carolina decides to-" Any other words he might have said were cut off as he ran away, back to his table, where Carolina either interrogated or berated him.
"Sheesh," Cal said to Georgia, who was stood next to him. "There is one redhead I would not want to piss off!" Georgia nodded enthusiastically.
Back at their table, food now in front of them, the conversation turned to more serious matters.
"I'm telling you!" North gestured with his fork, "If this new team, Heretic, score by more than 6 in the next match, Slipspace are out and Phoenix will be in first to take the trophy!" South was shaking her head, apparently not as big of a fan as her brother.
"Bullshit! If Vortex wins their next match, they go through to the final with Phoenix!" Cal stated back, brandishing his knife at the opposing fan. "You just don't want Vortex to win because they stole Cannonball's old striker!"
North gasped dramatically before turning to South. "South, tell California that I am no longer interested in the conversation."
She sighed, before turning to Cal. "My brother has decided that he has lost any argument and is now ignoring you."
Cal nodded his thanks and turned to a confused Georgia. "What is this Grifball? Some sport?" Georgia asked, rubbing his forehead confusedly, while Michigan was having an awkward conversation with Minnesota and Arkansas about what the project would entail. There was a clatter as both Cal and North dropped their cutlery and, rivalry forgotten, stared at Georgia, who seemed a little nervous.
"What?" he asked. They stared, incredulous.
"How the bloody hell can you not have seen Grifball?" inquired Cal as North nodded in shock.
"Um..." Georgia said as he looked to South pleadingly. She just grinned.
Eventually, Arkansas decided to strike up a conversation with Maine. A very one sided conversation, granted, but at least he tried.
"So, uh... Looking forwards to the project?" Maine just grunted. Arkansas tried a new tactic. "Say, did they announce roommates yet?" Maine merely grunted again and Arkansas seemed to finally just give up. "You're not a talkative kinda guy, are you?" he muttered, before turning to the conversation at large, which was about whether or not they would be joining the others.
"I'm telling you," Georgia was saying to Minnesota. "They'll be wanting to put us together. It'll be some kind of team effort." Arkansas nodded, while Maine grunted, shrugging his massive shoulders, probably to show off his lack of caring at all.
"So much for a team!" snapped South back angrily. Cal internally sighed. She was really going in with this "I'm an arrogant bitch" thing she had going for her. "We don't know anything about each other! This isn't a team! We don't even know our own names anymore. I could ask anyone here anything about themselves and they'd refuse to answer! You, where are you from?" It took Cal a second to realize that the question had been directed at him.
He closed his eyes as the repressed memories that he'd rather forget flooded into his head, flashing before his eyes. His hands clenched uncontrollably on his cutlery as he squeezed his eyes shut, as if to block out the images that South had called forth. After a second, he opened his eyes and stared at South unblinkingly, feeling nothing but rage at her carelessness.
"Soooooo..." North interjected, watching the fuming pair with concern. "Anyone up for guessing which Freelancer over there is which?"
After a while, the new group were rapidly getting bored. The conversation had run dry. They had talked about many things. North had quickly resumed Grifball arguments, but that was due to wanting to avoid Cal or South going for each other's throats with the knives. Georgia had joined in, curious to hear more. Arkansas had engaged Minnesota and Michigan in a conversation about what weapon was their favourite, while Maine had merely grunted when he was spoken to. All Maine had to do was to look like he was paying attention and grunt in convenient places. That was the most conversation anyone had gotten out of him.
The room had slowly emptied as people filed out to their various meaningless jobs throughout the ship. Even the other Freelancers had vanished after a while, still shooting them covert glances every once in a while, even as the door shut behind Carolina as she looked over the group one last time. Everyone had had to try and find ways to entertain themselves, some with more luck than others. California was one such person.
"Anyone wanna hear some jokes?" Cal asked later, utterly bored. He was sure that the Director was keeping them waiting intentionally, watching how the group reacted together, who got on with who and who didn't. He was assessing them.
"Dear God, no!" Minnesota said quietly into his hands, having put his head into them after giving up on the rather tedious task of listening to those around him. The others sat around the rectangular table made various noises of either agreement or disagreement, just to see how far Michigan could be pushed. She had made perhaps the most violent reaction towards Cal during this period, threatening him with her fork before just putting her head in her hands.
"What?!" Cal asked in amusement, lip curled upwards into a smirk as his eyes glittered maliciously. "Someone around here has to be the punnyone! Geddit?" He laughed openly as South's eyes glared from between her hands, North's smile became more pronounced, Georgia grinned, Minesotta just groaned, Maine showed no visible reaction, Arkansas sighed and Michigan looked up, face full of fury.
"Just shut up!" she yelled at him. "Shut. The. Hell. Up!" Cal blinked in surprise at the sudden reaction, before tilting his head in submission and mock saluting her. She snarled, apparently having had enough with him. But before she could do a thing, a new voice rang out.
"Agents! Stand down!" The voice was a drawling, southern monotone, inflected with a tiny bit of anger. Instantly, the eight person group snapped into well oiled, crisp salutes. The Director nodded and they dropped the salutes. He smiled very slightly as he observed them, but it was not a nice smile. It was a victorious smile, the kind one wore after winning a particular battle. He had asserted who was in charge here.
"Allow me to take you to the next stage in your introductions in this project." Without further ado, him and the other man, the Counselor, turned and exited the room without warning. Momentarily perplexed, the group looked at each other a second, before hurriedly following him through the automatic doors.
"Thank Christ!" Cal thought he heard South mutter. Grinning, he looked over at them all.
Maine was quiet, strong and clearly didn't want to talk. He was a typical thug. He was the heavy hitter, the one who took opponents down quickly, efficiently and messily. Cal wasn't going to hang around him, but he wasn't likely to want to get in his way either.
Michigan clearly was independent. She was fierce and clearly hated sarcasm. And bad jokes. She and Cal were unlikely to get along. At all. Another one to avoid. He shook his head. This list was getting very one sided. Whose fault was it that the girl needed to lighten up?
North Dakota was better, in his opinion. He liked Grifball, something that would automatically attract Cal to a specific person. He also seemed level headed and unlikely to pry too far into other people's backgrounds, something that Cal could also do without. Overall, North Dakota was one of his favourites of the new group.
His sister, South Dakota on the other hand, clearly had a dislike for him. He couldn't really say that he felt differently. She was arrogant, rude and clearly had no interest in making friends. He couldn't blame her, as no one would really want to be friends with her anyway! He would work with her, nothing more. If she was going to make no secret of her feelings, than he felt entitled to do the same in return. One good turn deserves another, as the old saying went.
Arkansas was alright. He was a nice enough guy, except for his apparent lack of going further than he needed to. That would have to change. War changed people, for better or worse. They had to adapt. They had to grow colder and more willing to do what they had to, or they died. Cal knew all about that! Arkansas was an unknown. He would either succeed or he wouldn't. The question was "When would he have to choose?"
Georgia was also quite a cool guy. He was energetic and excitable certainly, but he didn't know what Grifball was! How could a guy not know that?! However, he was keen to learn. Cal wouldn't say he was quite there yet, but with a bit of training, he might be properly house trained. He also wasn't that put off by the jokes and if a guy could stand Cal, then Cal could stand the guy. That was one of his, he paused a second. Oh yeah, three hundred and sixty four mottos.
And Minnesota. The quiet one. Didn't really talk much. He couldn't get a clear reading on him. He was unknown. He didn't make his opinion known that much and stayed quiet. He didn't see, to want to trust anyone. Cal would have to be careful. Unknown's tended to make themselves known in harsh ways.
Even the older Freelancers seemed alright, in an "I can kill you in eighteen different ways without blinking" kind of way. Carolina was pure confidence, brimming with power. She was in charge and she knew it. She knew that she was the best. And that brought out dangerous sides, not just in that person, but in the others trying to beat them. She was like a half woman-half shark. More or less.
California glanced over them all one last time as the Director shepherded them to wherever the hell they were going next. They might not be perfect. They might not all get along. But right now, they were histeam. Nothing would happen while they all worked as one single, solid unit. They stuck together, no matter what. From here on out, these people had to work to keep each other alive. He grinned at the thought.
He wasn't sure if he was more pleased they were watching his back, or worried.
