Hey everyone, sorry for slow update... I was being a lazy ass again. What, it's the summer I'm allowed that at least. anyways enjoy!
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(York, that night)
In York's eyes, something was off about Christian. After that song... "We are", he had started to cry. Did the song have some... personal meaning to him? Maybe. 'I wonder who'll tell him that we've watched seasons one through three?", he thought curiously. He was walking around the Mother of Invention when he decided to go and sit in the Observation Deck. The room itself wasn't big per say, but it was long in York's opinion. He stopped in a hallway looking out at the stars. In the window he saw his own reflection- 'Not bad.', he thought with a bit of pride. Being a Freelancer had its perks. He had a swimmer's build- not unlike those who played Grifball, his favorite sport. He had an orange tee-shirt that hugged his muscles nicely(according to some women who flirted with him on the ship)which said "Property of Grifball", and baggy black sweat pants. His eyes were a chocolate brown that were just filled with warmth and curiosity. He had hair that was like a chestnut brown horse, but it was spiked. He nodded to himself of what he was going to do, mainly because he was bored, and there was a small factor of not being able to sleep. Something was bothering him- what Tex from the DVDs said to the Blues. "Every Freelancer was assigned an AI. They made each Freelancer faster, or stronger- or in my case, just plain meaner." As he walked in he thought aloud, "How did we get more AIs? It was difficult just to get Alpha, according to the Director."
"So, you guys watched episode nine, huh? Can't say that I'm surprised.", said a familiar voice. York's head snapped to the source and saw Christian. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear, huh?", York muttered. Christian just gave a sad smile and motioned to the only other chair in the room. In front of the chairs was a control panel for all of the training programs that were designed for the Freelancers."The answer to your question is an idea- no a mistake that will make it even more difficult to get an AI. this idea is called "Fragmentation". Since it will be, quite literally, Tier-Zero classified information, and the fact that it will be explained in the DVDs, I can't tell you what the process is." York sighed and propped his legs on the control panel while leaning back in the chair. "Is everything you know so highly classified?", he asked. York finally turned to really look at Alaska. He wasn't in his armor, nor was he in jeans. It surprised York. Alaska was wearing an oversized plain white tee-shirt, and dark blue sweat pants that had gold outlined "Navy" running down the outside of his legs. York rose a brow at his choice of footwear, though, as he saw flip-flops. Alaska looked out the window and down at the Training Floor as he said "I honestly don't know. As much as I want to tell you guys what the future of Project Freelancer is, that'll just screw the timeline over and I don't know what'll happen then." Alaska tossed something to York. York caught it, and looked at what was in his hands and an unimpressed, plain look was on his face. "A twentieth century foot-lock? Why are you giving me this?", he asked. Alaska just smiled and answered "Something to help keep you busy when you have some restless nights, York." Alaska got up, put something on the control panel, and walked out muttering, "Now to wonder back to my room to get some sleep. Which way was it again?...", and York could hear him muttering down the hall until he was out of earshot. He looked at the control panel- there was a paper clip there. York shrugged-what else could he do to kill time? He looked at the Training Floor and saw Carolina working on the hand to hand combat simulation. He sighed once again and stated "The things I do in replace of sleep." He got started working on the foot-lock with the paper clip. 'Huh, this is still pretty challenging, even after these things have stopped being made. Wonder what Alaska's up to by giving me this?', he thought.
(Carolina, just finishing her training session)
Something bothered Carolina. That wouldn't surprise people, since she was always bothered by something. It was in her nature as a natural born soldier, her father, the Director told her once. It wasn't that she was bothered by anyone, but rather what someone said. "The point is, these Freelancers are bad news, and Tex is one of the worst." She hit the final target and heard F.I.L.S.S. say "New record- one hundred percent increase in efficiency." She nodded. 'That's not bad. But it could be better.', she thought. She was confused, though- why were the Freelancers bad news? She asked to no one, "We're the good guys... right?" She didn't know, but she planned on finding out. As she walked to the locker room, she took off her armored gloves. They were getting old so she was going to have to get new ones. She threw her gloves down in frustration- not because of getting new gloves, but because in this show Red vs Blue she and her team of the best of the best were shown in a bad light. She didn't understand it. Carolina swung her locker open with all her might- and tore the door off in the process. She tossed it on the floor, right in front of someone's feet. 'Wait, feet?', Carolina thought confused. "Well, you do certainly have your father's temper and your mother's strength.", said a male voice as she turned to face the person that was there with her. Carolina's eyes narrowed. "Alaska", she said with frustration evident in her voice, "Are the Freelancers really so bad?"
"Not necessarily."
"Then why would Church say that?"
"You got me. I will this you this though: Look Forward."
"Excuse me?"
"Look Forward. If you can see a future- be it good or bad- but everyone is alive and well, then run towards it. Run towards it and grab it with your own hands!"
Carolina was surprised. 'Look Forward, huh?', she thought. He turned and walked out before Carolina could say anything that resembled a "thank you". She sighed and stated "Well, it is kind of late. may as well go to sleep." She went back to her locker and was surprised to see new gloves. on one back-palm it said "Leader" in navy blue letters while on the other hand it said "Beloved by her team" in different colors. The first was a tan brown with a white outline. "York.", she said. Or at least that what she was thinking that meant. Second was in dark purple with a dark green outline. "North.", she said. The next one was all white with a regular black outline. "Wyoming.", she muttered. the next one was white with a brown outline. "Maine helped with this? I thought he didn't like me for taking the 'leader' spot from him..." Carolina trailed off. Orchid purple with light green outline, and black with yellow outline were the next two letters. "South and Wash. That's uplifting I suppose.", Carolina stated. The next one was white with a black outline, but with a little wing on it- the very same that was on the Pelican Aircraft Division. "Oliva too, huh? Nice.", Carolina said. The next one surprised her. White with a ice blue outline but with an orchid knife blade coming from the bottom of the 'y'. "Alaska? He considers me to be the leader?", she asked herself. The last one was a chocolate brown with a black outline. "C.T. as well? I think I'm gonna cry.", Carolina said half-seriously and half jokingly.The rest of the colors didn't matter because they were the same colors, just repeated at random. She looked to see if there was anything else in the locker, and found a note. It was her father's handwriting. She read it aloud "
Agent Carolina, as you know, your birthday is coming up. Your team thought new gloves would be a perfect gift- and Alaska just so happened to find material that wouldn't hinder your speed- and not wear down like a tire. Agents New York through Washington thought of the inscription, a nice touch don't you think? Also, My gift to you for your birthday is a Father/Daughter date. I realize that we haven't had much family time together in these past few years, and so I'm making it up to you. you can choose where we go- it doesn't matter what the price.
Happy Birthday Christina.
Love always,
Dr.Lenard Church, the Director of Project Freelancer, Father"
She couldn't believe it. Carolina re-read the letter. And again, and one more time. Finally, the leader of the best Freelancers, the best of the best, broke down crying. And for the first time in a long, long time, they were tears of joy. 'I can't believe this. I'm so happy that the universe could end and I wouldn't even care.', She thought as she hugged the new gloves like a lifeline. If this was a dream, then Carolina didn't want it to end.
