"Agents…Meet Agent California"
Chapter Three:
A Re-Introduction.
The first thing that came to her mind when she stepped through the door on the unknown ship was the unnerving familiarity of the group before her. She knew this ship yet the layout and the people that flitted about in the hallways didn't seem familiar at all. Expecting the familiar faces of her Blue Team comrades upon awakening, she was instead greeted by a sardonic voice and a brisk account of her accident, shrouded in the mystery of her time in a coma. The duration remained elusive, and elusive too were the straightforward answers. Now informed of her role in a covert ops team, she couldn't shake the uncomfortable familiarity, akin to an unwelcome memory, persistently nagging at her consciousness.
Standing in front of her new squad she gave them a once over noting the uncomfortable sense of familiarity once again that poked the back of her mind unwanted. "Agents... Meet Agent California," the director announced to the assembly, a nod from her being the sole acknowledgment. Surveying the colorful armored figures, she wondered if they were Spartans, lacking the stature of those from the program, yet ignorant of the time she had spent in her coma.
"Agents Maine, York, Wyoming, North, and South, stay behind. Everyone else, head up to the observation deck. A wake-up call on the power of proper training awaits," the director instructed, leaving Carolina, Wash, Connie, and Virgil as the excluded agents. Virgil, relieved to avoid involvement, speculated that the Spartan present could spell trouble, possibly lethal for them all.
Carolina, clearly perturbed by her exclusion, appeared poised to intervene and assert herself. Virgil anticipated her defiance, recognizing that her attitude might lead to a confrontation, one that the director, seemingly displeased with her demeanor, might allow to unfold. "Sir, how is this a wake-up call or a learning experience if we aren't on the training floor and up in Observation?" Carolina interjected with characteristic snark and attitude.
"And you believe this could serve as a learning experience for you, Agent Carolina? Well, fine. Agents, up to Observation. Agent Carolina will be sparring with California alone. Let this be a learning experience for all, a lesson in humility." The Director's stern command echoed, dismissing the others to the Observation deck. Virgil couldn't help but notice the subtle slump in Carolina's shoulders, likely a response to the Director's harsh reprimand and the realization that she was about to face the absurdly tall soldier solo.
Alex, also known as California, observed in silence, her golden visor masking any emotions as she absorbed the distinct personalities of her new teammates. Carolina's arrogance stood out prominently, evident in her posture. As for the others, even without words, their stances hinted at their personalities. Being able to determine her fellow agents' thoughts and feelings based on how they walked away from the training ground she watched in silence.
North Dakota and New York shared a similar caring posture, one mixed with exasperation and disappointment, with North's attention more directed towards South, while York attempted conversation with Carolina. South Dakota, on the other hand, exuded aggression, arrogance, and concealed resentment towards North. Her attempts to hide these emotions were noticeable. Agent Washington presented the most balanced stance, yet beneath the surface, signs of nervousness and low self-confidence peeked through.
Agent Maine, while the most spartan looking in size expressed much more emotion through body language than her brothers did in an entire year, appearing disappointed, his desire to fight was rather obvious but there was a hint of curiosity as he seemingly kept looking at her visor. Virginia and Wyoming managed to conceal their emotions, but California detected a subtle nervousness in their departing strides, leaving her impressed that both managed to mask the more prominent emotions the others were vividly displaying. Connecticut, however, proved to be remarkably transparent in her emotions, constantly fidgeting and expressing her fears was becoming a source of irritation for California.
Agent Virginia's persistent yet discreet gaze began to irk Cal. While she acknowledged her height stood out among the group, if it were merely a matter of height bothering Virginia, it would be akin to Washington's more apparent observation, his subtle head tilt tracing from her feet to helmet. However, Virginia's unwavering stare focused directly on her Mark V golden visor, as if attempting to peer through the reflective surface and discern the person behind it. The intensity of the scrutiny left Cal uneasy, prompting a growing sense of discomfort of how familiar it seemed.
As the group of Freelancer Agents exited the training room floor, Virgil overheard the Director cautioning California, the new agent, with a reminder, "Agent California, nothing lethal, please. This is just a sparring match." With that, the Director walked away, leaving Virgil to follow the others up to the observation deck of the main training room floor. Speculations about the new agent and the impending match filled the air.
Taking his place among his group, what he assumed were his friends, Virgil observed California standing like a statue on the training room floor below. South Dakota, with an unusual tone, inquired, "Any idea what the new guy is like?" York, shooting a quizzical look at the bleach blond, responded, "Agent California is a girl," eliciting stares from the others as if he had spoken a different language.
"You mean that—" Washington gestured towards the white-armored Spartan, "—is the brunette we saw in Recovery Alpha?" York nodded, confirming that it was indeed the same person, now fully covered in armor and no longer wearing a hospital gown. "That's her, at least I think so. Hard to tell with the armor, but I haven't seen anyone else that height since," York shrugged, leaning against the railing near the virtually indestructible glass overlooking the floor below.
"...That's a Spartan," Virgil blurted out, watching the duo on the floor below. While Carolina was stretching and getting ready, California wasn't doing anything to prepare for the match. "What the fuck is a Spartan?! You're just making shit up again," South practically yelled, and Virgil could hear some disappointment in finding out that their new team member was a woman, which was fucking gross.
"First off, don't be a whore and try to fuck the first buff guy you see; that's just fucking gross. Second, when have I ever lied? You want me to fuck up the other side of your face?" Virgil deadpanned, turning toward her with a glare and a slight smirk. "...Did I lie about fucking up your face if you touched my walkman?"
South backed away, though her sneer persisted, attempting to show indifference, but Virgil could sense that his words had gotten under her skin.
Cautiously, Wash coughed into his hand before asking, "Spartans... are those UNSC robots, right? The ones that are rumored to be even more advanced than a smart A.I.?" Virgil turned to face the nervous Washington to answer, "No, although most Spartans have the emotional capacity of a rock, they are human. To be honest, I've never seen one outside of documents and rumors, but they are meant to be the best of the best... so... Carolina is dead."
The group shifted their attention to the training room floor as the entire room sealed itself, and the generic A.I. known as The Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System, or rather F.I.L.S.S., began speaking. "Agents Carolina and California, Sparring module, CQC, Rule set, no lethal strikes. Please line up on either side of the training room circle."
Cal sighed silently, assuming her position across from Agent Carolina. She lowered herself into a fighting stance, fluidly bringing her arms up, clenching both hands into fists. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of the impending sparring match hung heavily in the room.
Carolina, fueled by arrogance and a desire to prove herself, wasted no time launching into a verbal assault. "So, the new girl thinks she can keep up with the best? We'll see how long you last," she taunted, a smirk playing on her lips.
"You're just filler, aren't you? The Director must be desperate if they're scraping the bottom of the barrel for soldiers like you," Carolina taunted, her voice dripping with disdain as she circled Cal with a cocky swagger.
Undeterred, Cal maintained her composure, her golden visor hiding any reaction to Carolina's provocation. The Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System's voice echoed, initiating the sparring module with the command, "Agents Carolina and California, sparring module, CQC, rule set, no lethal strikes. Please line up on either side of the training room circle."
"You're just here to fill in the ranks, aren't you? Let's see how well you do when you're not hiding behind that shiny armor," Carolina sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
The match commenced, and Carolina, confident in her abilities, lunged forward, aiming for a swift strike. Cal, however, effortlessly dodged, her movements precise and calculated. Carolina's frustration grew evident as she tried in vain to land a hit, her attacks met with a combination of evasive maneuvers and counterattacks.
"You're just cannon fodder, a pawn in the game. The Director probably brought you in to distract us while they figure out how the project is even going to move forward," Carolina continued her verbal assault, her attacks growing more aggressive.
Cal, however, deftly dodged each strike, her movements precise and calculated. The insults seemed to roll off her, but Carolina persisted, determined to find a crack in the newcomer's armor. "Why bother with someone like you? You're just excess baggage, dead weight. Project Freelancer doesn't need charity cases. You think you're special, don't you? Just because you're tall doesn't mean you're tough. Probably can't even handle a real fight," she jeered, attempting to provoke a reaction.
Undeterred, Cal continued to evade Carolina's attacks, her focus unwavering. The relentless taunting, however, began to chip away at the Spartan's stoic exterior. Carolina seized on the opportunity, escalating her verbal assault. "You think you can prove yourself here? You're just a placeholder, an extra body to fill the ranks. Probably can't even handle a simple mission without messing it up," she scoffed.
Despite the taunts, Cal maintained her composure. The dance of combat continued, each of Carolina's strikes met with a calculated response. A punch thrown was effortlessly deflected with a single slap of the hand, a kick easily intercepted by Cal's armored shin. Each moment looked effortless, flowing easily to counter Carolina. However, the whispers of doubt among the observing Freelancer agents grew louder. Agent South openly voiced that they didn't need a fake. Connecticut quietly voiced a fear of the silent giant.
"You're just a pawn, a nobody. The Director probably regrets bringing you in already. I bet they're just waiting for you to slip up so they can kick you out," Carolina jeered, her attacks growing more desperate.
As the match intensified, Carolina, fueled by frustration, charged at Cal with reckless determination. Cal, anticipating the attack, executed a smooth clothesline, her massive bicep connecting with Carolina's neck. The room fell into a stunned silence as Carolina crumpled to the ground, defeated, choking on her breath, and drastically humbled.
Cal stood victorious, her golden visor revealing nothing. Suddenly, a yell of genuine praise and joy echoed through the room. "FUCK YEAH! GET CLOTHESLINED BY A FUCKING REFRIGERATOR, YOU BITCH!" The exclamation caused Cal to freeze, turning her head toward the source. It didn't take long to spot him—celebrating, throwing his fist in the air, and talking to Washington with maniacal laughter.
Cal felt her eye twitch at being called a Fridge by this asshole. In response, she quietly muttered, "Fuck you, Prophet." Her words unintentionally revealed more than she intended, and the realization hit her: this idiot celebrating was her brother in all but blood, her comrade from her original universe. The memories, once a blurred mess, flooded back. Alex relaxed for the first time in a long while, finding solace in the return of something she had lost so long ago. Even her memories, imperfect as they were, struggled to catch up with the revelation that this celebratory idiot was Prophet.
The Director's voice broke the awkward silence, "Impressive, Agent California. No lasting injuries and I believe all Carolina will suffer from is a wounded sense of Pride." Cal nodded, leaving the defeated Carolina on the training room floor. The weight of her triumph over the match, coupled with the resurgence of memories from her past, lingered in the air.
The moment Virgil witnessed the armored bicep extend, a grin spread across his face. Carolina, charging recklessly, collided with the Spartan's bicep, essentially crushing her own throat for a few seconds. The clothesline executed by the imposing figure of California left the teal Freelancer defeated on the ground. Unable to restrain himself, Virgil threw a fist into the air and shouted, "FUCK YEAH! GET CLOTHESLINED BY A FUCKING REFRIGERATOR, YOU BITCH!"
The outburst from Virgil shocked and startled nearly every Freelancer in the vicinity. They recoiled, flailing around, as if witnessing Virgil express anything other than annoyance and anger was an unprecedented event.
"Fuck yeah! You saw that right, Wash? Carolina fucking deserved that bicep to the throat with her shitty attitude," Virgil laughed, reveling in the moment. Wash nervously fiddled with his hands, his attention seemingly fixed on something. "What's wrong, Wash? You should also be celebrating. Teal bitch was an asshole to you too," Virgil inquired, now thoroughly perplexed by Wash's unusual behavior.
"California was staring up here, Virge. Staring right at you," York interjected, cutting through the banter and pointing out the obvious, making Virgil turn only to see California's back turned and her walking through a door leading to a hallway. The specific hallway that connected to Training Observation. It would only be a matter of time before Cal reached the Observation deck and Virgil was ecstatic. Grabbing Wash by the back of his armor and dragging him away from the window observer area thing and to the center of the room, "Lets go congratulate the refrigerator." Watching this all go down, Maine watched as Virgil pulled Wash away from the group, turning he shared a look with York and North before he stalked forward to join his trainer and friend in meeting the new Agent.
York grinning behind his sandy orange tan colored helmet and happily followed with his friends to meet the new agent. North chuckled before turning to say something to South, Connie and Wyoming but they had already left through the other door before anyone could say anything to them. North sighed exasperated at his sister's attitude toward other women, her attitude toward Virgil and her hate to anything outside of her own circle. North turned just in time to see the door opening revealing the towering figure that was down on the training room floor. She was rather…intense up close, silently North hoped that South stayed far away from this 'Spartan' and didn't set off Virgil again.
Walking up the stairs Alex pulled off her helmet and handed it to a random worker that was walking down, ignoring the workers protest she continued up to where she knew her friend to be. She knew that he had to have a different name, she knew him as Prophet and they really never used their real names when talking online and she couldn't really remember it anyway. All her memories were still all jumbled and more of a mess than Carolina was the moment she got a bicep to the throat.
Upon reaching the room the door seamlessly slid open revealing her form to the Agents who stood there waiting. Well there was one that was being held by the back of his armor, Washington if she remembered the colorations correctly. He looked absolutely terrified being there and being held still by the man she only knew as Prophet. He looked…different and at the same time, it was like he had not changed. Even the demented grin and cackle remained the same, "Sup Fridge, I'm Virgil, or Agent Virginia. And this coward is Wash!" Prophet or rather Virgil laughed shoving the scared Washington forward making the uncoordinated agent fall over his feet, he also nearly face planted if Alex didn't reach out and grab the back of his armor holding him as if he were a clumsy kitten.
Wash began stuttering and mumbling nonsense trying his best to convey that he wanted to be put down but was cut off by Cal herself. "...you are mine now." She muttered before holding up the now bewildered Washington with her hands under his arms before setting him on his feet and gently patting the top of his helmet. York, thinking that she was joking pulled Maine and North closer to the spartan while laughing, "What about us?" York, always being the agent without his helmet on, didn't really expect a soft pat on the cheek while the other two got head pats like Wash did. "Hey! Heey, We do not pick up people. It's rude!" Virgil called out making Cal turn to the guy she suspected was her friend. "You want a head pat too?" She asked rather blankly but Virge could see it, a small upward twitch of her mouth. A spartan's version of laughing at him, the emotionless bricks that they are, expressed very miniscule amounts of emotion that anything actually shown would have been multiplied by ten with a normal person. So that small twitch would have been the equivalent of a normal person rolling on the floor laughing.
Virgil turned to face the spartan completely before bluntly saying, "Fuck off…" That didn't stop Cal from reaching out and patting his head anyway, causing the others to snort at the indignant look that just spread across the ODST's face. "Don't you fucking touch me, you Fridge." Virgil growled, slapping her giant hand away from his head. Cal sighed, "Not a fridge, Old Man…" She says while poking his shoulder, a familiar thrum of an old ache ran down his spine the moment she had poked him. Yeah, he definitely knew who this fucking was now and she very obviously remembered who he was with that old man comment. "Fuck you, anyway, I am hungry and the mess just opened so…lets go get food. You need food too Brick wall so, Lets go." Virgil was about to turn when Cal moving forward made him stop; he watched as she lifted Wash up and began to carry him, making the others burst out laughing. "You are hungry too, We all go together." There was a pause before Maine just gave a shrug to the others and walked up to Cal and easily climbed onto her back.
York and North both shared a look and followed Maine's idea, both climbed up on either side of Maine, clinging to Cal's shoulders. Virgil just gave the ridiculous group a dead look before leading the pile of idiots to do whatever the fuck they were doing all the while muttering under his breath, "..christ." followed by several expletives but too quiet to actually be heard. Unburdened by the extra weight Cal easily strode forward with her extra passengers, a small smile on her face as she kept hearing Wash mutter that he was not a teddy bear and that he wanted to walk on his own. The others just kept laughing at his misfortune or fortune at being held the way he was.
Walking out into the hallway they had begun their journey through bland corridor after corridor until rounding one particular corner and there stood The Director and the Counselor who were talking among themselves about the newest addition to Freelancer when they had stopped to look at the utter nonsense that was going on before them. "Ehem…Agent Virginia." The Director called out to the exasperated agent who was walking ahead of the…group. Virgil turned and looked at the Director, giving the man a dead inside look before speaking, "Principal…What do you need…" The Director rolled his eyes before asking, "What exactly is That about?" he said pointing to the rather amusing pile of Freelancers being carried by the Spartan. Before Virgil could even say anything Cal spoke up a weird light happiness in her voice, "I'm an APC…" This caused the group on her back to burst out laughing, including Maine which didn't really happen too often. The Director hid a laugh behind a cough before speaking, "The mess hall is just down this corridor Agent California, You'll see the double doors just head in after that. I need to speak with Virgil."
Cal nodded and began walking once more as York finally asked her a question as they continued down the hall. "So…Cal, What should we call the newest Formation we have just created?" North beside him snorted and Maine practically swallowed a laugh and began choking slightly. "Spartan APC…" She once again declared happily as they walked out of earshot of Virgil and the Director. Virgil just groaned in irritation, "Damn it…"
Turning back to the Director, Virgil crosses his arms, "Guess we should talk about some stuff…shouldn't we." The Director nodded before opening his door and sending the counselor to the mess hall to monitor the Spartan and her interactions, "Just some…more information about our newest Freelancer Agent. Let's step into my Office…" Both Director and Virgil turned walking into the office completely unaware that a certain Spartan could still hear them as she walked down the hall answering questions.