Artemis walked out of the ship. She smiled as she looked around. This place was huge!
'This is just one step closer to getting to you... Leon' Artemis thought as she walked in. She wondered what she'd find in this place and who'd she meet. Walking in, she saw a big, blue leader board that was numbered one through seven.

Cody stretched and opened his eye's, he yawned and smiled as he had taken a little nap on the ride over. He glanced around before walking around to find this place was fairly large. He then stopped and took a few steps back and poked his head in staring at the large blue leader board. "I wonder what that's for..." He said rubbing the back of his neck.

His eye's then moved to a girl looking at the leader board aswell... Cody raised his eyebrow as he considered saying hello.

At the back of the Pelican-class troop transport, a small shape clad in a form-fitting black jumpsuit meant for armor-mounting slowly rose and glanced about, brushing her bright orange hair from her eyes as she scanned the hangar around her. Although her features were composed, dignified, and calm, there was a certain light in her eyes that suggested a deep, intense excitement that belied her outer placidity. But, then again, why shouldn't she be excited? She, Sierra Aryos, had finally been selected as a candidate for an Agent's commission in Project Freelancer, one of the most reputed super soldier institutions in the UNSC. But that prestige wasn't the reason she was here. No, the reason was, quite simply, that this most elite soldier corps was the purpose that had redefined her life, given her existence meaning after her innocent, carefree self had been broken and shattered on the battlefields of the far reaches of the UNSC's colonized space.

This force was the very same one that had saved her life all those years ago. And, ever since that time, she had striven relentlessly to prepare herself, to train until she became worthy of joining the soldiery she so admired.

And now, she finally had. A slight smile playing upon her lips, she quickly dismounted. This facility was one she knew well, even if she hadn't been on base since she was a child. But, even still, during the brief period where the Freelancer program had taken her in prior to transfer to a military orphanage, this place had been her home, and it had left its mark on her. The scoreboard she knew so well had been wiped blank, the old names of the famous Agents in her day removed to make way for a new generation of seven, the party who had just arrived along with her. Raising her hands, she covered her eyes against the bright lights of the hangar while at the same time pointing directly at the scoreboard, uncaring of the people around her who very well might not understand her gesture. Then, miming a gun with her hand, she fired, aiming straight for the top in more ways than one.

That spot there. She had claimed it. And one day, it would belong to her, Sierra Aryos, the one who would become the greatest Agent of Project Freelancer!

Matt shuffled himself out of the troop transport and into the hanger bay, his dull eyes peeling open reluctantly to regard the gray world around him with casual indifference. His entrance was heralded by the soft whirring of gears as his mechanical arm calibrated and adjusted expertly to minute movements, seamlessly integrating itself with his own thoughts. The harsh contrast in light which cascaded down from the roofs to greet his vision forced him blink as he stepped down with a soft thud, his black boots rasping against the metal formwork of the deck. Falling in behind a lithe yet curvaceous soldier whose form was accentuated by her figure hugging jumpsuit, Matt looked well constructed, his head planted high enough to observe the view beyond her fiery red hair.

As he waited courteously for her to pace ahead, she form a pistol with her hand before aiming it. Matt followed her aim to the blank scoreboards which taunted them with the promise of competition and empty praise. The young woman's gesture likewise caused him to raise an eyebrow, such notions of ranking didn't matter to him, so long as he completed the mission successfully. He heaved a sigh and duly glanced upon the others, another young woman and man whose gazes had likewise been drawn to the scoreboard before craning his next back to the woman in front of him.

"You're awfully eager, is the scoreboard that important to you?" he asked cluelessly, curling a finger around his fringe in contemplation. Beneath the stoic facade, Matt could feel her bustling excitement like a blaze burning everything around her. A certain adaptedness in terms of reading people came to him when you were as apathetic as someone like he was, like the other young man with barely contained lust and silver haired woman who smell sweet. He didn't understand people like this, where they really fit to be soldiers?

A small smile grew on Cody's lips as he chuckled a little, he didn't care about the ranking on a 1 to 7 he knew they were some of the best and Cody had his own agenda for joining the program. Cody glanced over his shoulder at the other two, he felt a little insecure without his knife. He was always used to feeling it's weight. He'd wait a little longer before he could get it back.

Cody eye's turned back to the silver haired women as he still smiled, he wondered how all this would turn out.

------------------------------------------

A women in a gray uniform stood in a black room watching some moniters, she had one of her rare smile appear as she watched the new recruits disembark from the shuttle, she turned to her assistant, "They look promising. Don't they." she then turned on her heel and walking out of before the other women could say a word.

A voice from behind Sierra attracted her attention, drawing her out of her reverie. It seemed another of the new trainees had noticed her actions and was questioning her about them. She hadn't exactly socialized with any of the others on the shuttle, nor did she particularly intend to, so she didn't know nor really care about the name of the young man speaking to her. But, she supposed, now that she had been addressed, she would have to respond. And so, she did so, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone that suggested a statement of the obvious as she turned to face the one just emerging from the docked Pelican. A sardonic, self-assured smirk on her face, she replied coolly.

"Of course I'm interested in it. That scoreboard is more than just a prestige system. Didn't you know? The higher your rank on the board, the more independent action you are allowed to. For an Agent, being trusted to act instantly without having to lose time consulting superiors for new orders allows you a higher possibility of success in the field. Independent action is everything on a mission. Thus, the higher your rank, the higher your chance of success. With an advantage like that, who wouldn't be interested?"

"Of course I'm interested in it. That scoreboard is more than just a prestige system. Didn't you know? The higher your rank on the board, the more independent action you are allowed to. For an Agent, being trusted to act instantly without having to lose time consulting superiors for new orders allows you a higher possibility of success in the field. Independent action is everything on a mission. Thus, the higher your rank, the higher your chance of success. With an advantage like that, who wouldn't be interested?"

The young woman paused and glanced at Matt with an icy expression, like he’d disrupted her from something important. She turned to him then, looking at him with a measure of scorn reflected in her cold, blue eyes, as though he was a cockroach at the end of her boot. As ever, Matt’s only reply could be silky impassiveness, apparently immune to the leering sentiment of her condescending tone.

He heaved a sigh eventually, his own dark eyes wandering aimlessly into the depths of the hanger for a moment. Briefly, he regretted opening dialogue with her. When it came to dealing with people like this he was a clueless as a child. His gaze glided back to her, noticing the self confidence seemingly oozing from her figure. Something else felt hidden behind her thinly veiled practical reasoning though. It made sense if you wanted leadership over the mission, but she hadn’t even mentioned leadership, she’d talked about trust instead. To Matt, it almost sounded like the scoreboard was her mission.

“Every agent is already trusted with the measure of independence necessary to complete their mission. Once out in the field, we’ll have to be, radio contact with HQ won’t always be available. Additional thoughts on ranking are a distraction and wasted effort,” Matt replied despondently, a placid expression seemingly etched into his creamy skin, “Complete the mission effectively above all else, that's enough for people like me.”

The soft whirring of gears continued in the background as his mechanical arm bent up and scratched the side of his cheek. A smile without any mirth parted his lips then, Matt having long since lost ability to smirk normally, "Best of luck with your endeavours though."

Artemis looked to the side and was suprised this guy was looking at her. She then noticed on closer inspection (Not that close) that he was smiling too so she smiled warmly back.
"Oh! Hi. My name is Artemis." She said happily and extended her hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."

Cody eye's blinked a little rapidly as Artemis had spoken to Cody. His eye's then looked down at Artemis's hand extended towards him, he then looked up his smile growing a little.

"My name's Cody," he said shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you Artemis."

"True. We're to be entrusted with the authority to complete our missions as is. But, there's something to be said for a blank check, isn't there? The independent action to improvise at will is above and beyond the simple command 'Do what is nessecary, within limits.'" Sierra emphasized the final words as she responded, seeming both aggravated and yet stimulated by the attitude of the other recruit. Being contradicted served to both provide her both with the nuisance of not being believed and the activity of explaining her position and overthrowing the arguments leveled against it, making it both a burden and a pleasure. It was complicated. "Mission completion is always to be our foremost goal, but that doesn't mean there aren't other things to strive for, especially when those things provide advantages toward our main objective. Simply relying on the most basic resources available without aiming for the highest chance of success possible is just laziness, and we who, as Agents, will be expected to be nothing short of perfection, can't be weighed down by disregard of that sort," She concluded matter-of-factly, placing a hand on her hip for emphasis and titling her head slightly as though to ask "Don't you agree? Or is there something else I can explain for you?" It wasn't an expression of outright hostility, but there was something cold and dismissive about it, to be sure.

Amy huffed softly as she opened up the door that lead from the cockpit of the Pelican transport, hiding in there as the ship landed. She preferred to be out of the spotlight as much as possible and away from the rest of the new recruits...ammeters she called them. The woman flicked her hair back and followed behind them silently with her head low and listening to the conversations. When they went into the room, she would take a move towards the corner and watched from a distance. She was trying to piece all of the parts of the puzzle together

The woman's armor held up in her inspection, her hands checking over the plates of her armor looking like they had taken some fire in the past but was never fully repaired. Mementos she thought. The people around her were talking but she wasn't really paying attention. She just watched and thought to herself. If she had to work with them, she had to try and get into their heads

The Director strode in followed by two guards who were in step with her and a assistant jogging after them, she stopped under the score board and turned to the group assembled. "Hello, please call me the Director, with pleasantries aside, time to get started. You all were chosen for your skills which have been better then others in your fields. This program will help you surpass any boundaries you may have. However in turn I need your absolute cooperation." her voice was cold and calculating as her eye's moved over each of them as if judging them already.

-------------

As the Director walked in he snapped a salute and stood at attention, he listened intently throughout her small speech but Cody felt a shivered as she looked straight at him no almost through him he thought.

"Well, I guess that ends the discussion," Sierra said matter-of-factly as the door opened opposite the hangar from them, and they were called to attention. She immediately straightened, assuming an air of military professionalism and discipline, and striking a salute, although she lowered it when the Director said "with pleasantries aside," which was basically shorthand for "At ease." And then, the Director began to speak, and welcomed them to the project. If Sierra was a less convicted person, she might have had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. This was it... she had finally made it to the main ranks of Project Freelancer! For too long she had trained on the sidelines, a mere potential candidate, or, at best, an enforcer for the Project in which she wished to become the foremost and ultimate soldier. And now, finally, here she was, one of seven who would compete for that honor. Where once her potential enemies numbered in the hundreds, now she had only to worry about six people and the scoreboard that now towered above her like the judgement seat of God. And, soon enough, it would be her name that was placed at the very highest point of that edifice, for all to see and know that she had finally overcome herself and achieved her dreams.

Artemis was about to answer back to Cody before the Director walked in. She quickly stiffened and saluted as she entered.
'This is it Artemis. Your say has come.' She thought to herself as she felt happiness rush through her. Project Freelancer would help her achieve her dreams and find her brother. For this, she would do anything.

"Hello, please call me the Director, with pleasantries aside, time to get started. You all were chosen for your skills which have been better then others in your fields. This program will help you surpass any boundaries you may have. However in turn I need your absolute cooperation." The Director said to which another agent relaxed so she did too. The Director than moved on to inspect them.

"Mission completion is always to be our foremost goal, but that doesn't mean there aren't other things to strive for, especially when those things provide advantages toward our main objective. Simply relying on the most basic resources available without aiming for the highest chance of success possible is just laziness, and we who, as Agents, will be expected to be nothing short of perfection, can't be weighed down by disregard of that sort,"

Matt's mouth pursed, drawing across his cheeks in an expressionless fashion as he formulated the words to counter her earlier response. Before he could proceed however, she halted him, her eyes directing his attention to the doorway.

"Well, I guess that ends the discussion," the young woman stated.

No sooner had the words left her mouth did the double doors open with a crack which echoed across the hanger bay. Matt's eyes narrowed in the location of the approaching woman flanked by two guards and another lithe woman. The figure at the head of the group strode swiftly and purposefully, taking powerful strides as she approached the collection of soldiers. She came to a halt underneath the scoreboard, the soft light falling from the screen and highlighting her sharp, yet youthful features. Despite this she held an undeniable air of authority about her, sending her blue eyes roaming over their mottley congregation and measuring every inch of them without restraint. Matt righted himself swiftly and stood to attention in favour of showing good courtesy, imitating the lessons he'd been taught in all his years of basic training. Her lips parted as she caught their attention fully, "Hello, please call me the Director, with pleasantries aside, time to get started. You all were chosen for your skills which have been better then others in your fields. This program will help you surpass any boundaries you may have. However in turn I need your absolute cooperation."

The Director. Matt mulled. The Director's words were spoken without a trace of sympathy or warmth, instead she oozed of cold pragmatism. Upright, proud and uncompromising where Matt's initial impressions as he returned her gaze with the ease, his face painted with a placid expression which seemed permanently fixed. To show his cooperation he nodded simply, a single motion wrapped within his determination.

A small smile grew on her lips, barely noticible. "Good," she glanced at the man standing beside her writing some things on a clip board. "Get them preped and ready. Training begin's now." she then walked out of the room followed by the two guards.

Her assistant looked up missing that her boss had left and quickly scrambled after her. The man turned to the group assembled, "Your armor and weapons are in the next room, this will act as your 'Locker Room' aswell. Welcome to Project Freelancer." He finished and pointed to the door on his left opposite the one the director exited.

......................

Cody watched her leave as he turned his attention to the man now speaking. He smirked as the mention of armor and weapons, he'd be getting his knive's back then. He just nodded and bgan his way into the other room, a determined look in his eye's.

Amy huffed softly and watched the Director's little speech. What a prissy little bitch...she thought as she sped quickly off towards the next room. She wanted to try and get to her gear ahead of the others, crowds right now werent really her thing. She would turn and head through the doors towards her new found armor and life while an eye turned behind her to watch everything...

She didnt trust them as of this point

Sierra grinned competitively as the Director concluded in just a few words, and the group was instructed to move into the armory adjoined to the hangar area to gather their equipment and prepare for training. The young Freelancer had to admit, this was one of the things she had looked forward to with the most eagerness. Their new equipment... in training, the suits and auxiliary gear they had used were all mostly leftover, outdated models from the UNSC, refurbished for use as training systems. The armor waiting for them now, however, was worlds apart from this shoddy beginner's kit. These were the advanced, prototype MJOLNIR suits used by Project Freelancer: the best of the best. And now, Sierra was about to get her own.

She wasted no time in quickly entering the armory, and, locating a large case labeled with her name and service number, quickly hastened over to it and, opening it, began to examine her new gear with an approving air.

Clearly modeled on the Scout series of MJOLNIR suits, the armor nevertheless had a clear amount of personalization that had been done to it. Alterations done to the armor plates, new systems affixed to improve performance, camoflage strips and ammunition slots, overhauled energy shielding systems, and what looked to be several pieces of built-in weaponry in its various joints all became visible upon a quick examination, and Sierra smiled, very pleased with the unit she was about to receive. Although its color, a bluish-green shade that seemed to shimmer and change slightly as unfamiliar light struck it - probably an adaptive paint coating meant to serve as passive camoflage in grassland, forested, and aquatic environments - wasn't exactly her usual - her training suit had been bright scarlet, earning her the nickname of "Scarlet Meteor" (totally not a Char reference...) - it would give her yet another tactical advantage, which made it superior to the original regardless of silly things such as personal preference.

Finishing her inspection of her new kit, she quickly set about donning it to give it a trial run, stepping into the container and preparing for automated assembly. The armor was, for the most part, far too heavy for a Human being to lift, requiring the assistance of machinery instead. But, as she was already clad in the undersuit meant for exactly this sort of gear, it was a simple matter to quickly slide into the complex mesh of interlocking plates, as though she had just stepped into a dragon's scales. Countless soft clicks rang through the air as, piece by piece, the greaves, leggings, chestplate, pauldrons, and bracers were all swiftly attached to their owner. And then, finally, brushing back her twin tails of orange hair, the young Freelancer took up her helmet, and slid it over her head, the seals making a satisfying hiss as they engaged around her neck, locking down the suit completely and finally.

For an instant, her world was engulfed in darkness, the powerless helmet allowing in no light from the outside world. But in the blink of an eye, countless lights flared to life across her view as the HUD powered up and engaged, an image of the view beyond her metallic shell projected by electronic eyes, with vital statistics, motion tracker data, communications and squad status, and countless other bits of miscellaneous, relevant data projected around its edges.

Raising her arm, Sierra grinned at the feeling of power that flowed through her as countless tiny motors acquiesced to her motion in an instant, raising even the incomprehensible weight that now encased her being with the ease of raising a single finger. Turning her head, she began to glance about, readjusting to the feel of the new interface as her view shifted about her. It might have been daunting to a novice, so many complex systems flashing and glowing before one's eyes, one's view showing only a steady, motionless field of vision that only shifted with the movements of one's head, no matter where one's eyes actually looked... But to her, an experienced veteran of similar, if less advanced systems, it was as natural as breathing to her, and in an instant, she had already gotten a fairly good feel for her new armor. Now there was just one more thing to do.

Searching about herself, Sierra's eyes swiftly fell upon the weapons palette beneath her, and, stooping down, she snatched up the familiar arsenal before her. Twin magnums were swiftly strapped to her sides, one to each leg, while the familiar shape of her customized Designated Marksman Rifle was slung over her back with a practiced, professional attitude. And then, with the force of a stampeding elephant, she took a step forward, her impossibly heavy, armored body dropping from the equipment case with an unnatural fluidity. A loud clang rang through the air as the extra-thick floor plating contacted her metal boot, a satisfying echo sounding out even after she had landed. Then, she slowly glanced about her at the others who, like herself had begun to don their gear. Once the others had finished getting into their suits, Sierra activated her suit's external speaker system as well as squad communications, and, after checking the status of each of the other Freelancers to ensure she was linked up, spoke out of habit, going through standard procedure for equipment checks and unit synchronization - or "synch" - before an op.

"Sierra Aryos, testing systems. I hope you all read me. Synch, confirm?"