Entry #1
Agent Louisiana Personal Log—Encryption Code: Upsilon—Entry #1
—December 25--
Okay, fuck, so this is… um, journal entry numero uno and y'all gotta bear with me 'cos it's been a rully long time since I've done this and I h'd ta get drunk as fuck-all to even b'gin.
So, ladies an' gents, let's start out with a "Road So Far…" recap, huh?
Right, okay, yeah. This is the former-Agent Hecate of the Titan Initiative, but might register as "Echo-Zero-Four-Two" under all tha' black ink. W's born as "P.C. Princeton", though—leas' I think I was. Go by "Louisiana" these days, now 'm in Project Freelancer.
Th' Initiative was one'a those new programs that ONI backed during th' early years'a the Human-Covie War; w's kinda like a Spartan-wannabe program. There were others, ones I can't name 'cos I don't 'ficially know their names, but I know th're were others. Had ta be…
'Nyway, started off sorta like Spartan-II— 'cept the big men in charge didn't rully like kidnappin' children, so they went after pregnant women. Paid the sorry bastards for the rights ta their unborn kids, and 'sperimented on 'em in th' womb. 'Sperimented on us in the womb.
'Cos n'matter who my mother was, I was always one'a them. You'd think tha' havin' yer mom 's the chick in charge'a the brainy side'a the program would keep ya fr'm havin' ta go through some'a the shit we did, but no' s'much. Turns out, jus' makes the bitch feel more entitled ta test ou' all kinds'a crazy theories tha' she couldn' do 'thout consent.
So, these 'speriments sorta screwed with our DNA—they were tryin' ta make us strong an' fas' like the Spartans, but 'thout havin' ta pay fer th' upgrades. Sorta worked, s'pose—worked like th' Spartan-I's, anyways. Made us stronger 'n faster th'n normal soldiers, 'nyway. Tha's always a plus.
Messed w'th our heads, tho', too. Made us more 'gressive, if tha' w's what they want'd; made us more pliant 'n weak-mind'd if tha' w's what they want'd; made us anythin' they want'd, really.
Wasn' s'bad, I s'pose. Cold 's all Hell, an' rully fucked our in'erperson'l skills, bu' could'a been worse. No' c'mplete sociopaths, 't least. Tha's somethin'. Well, no' all 'f us were…
Uhm, righ', so, went on like tha' fer a long time, 'til the conditionin' started ta wear off. Started with 's youn'er ones—started questionin' orders 'n 'splayin' signs 'f in-de-pend-ent thought. B'came real ins'bordinate bastards.
'Ventually, one 'f us, name o' Rio—Krios, technic'ly—st'rted pokin' 'round th' archives. I w's one'a the youngest, so I jus' sorta followed orders. Rio's orders, 'nyway. Bro was m'partner, s'I didn't see th' big deal 'bout followin' him 'round like a li'l los' puppy-dog.
I w's there wh'n he found ou', ya know. Tha' th' Doc—Crichton, tha' is—was double-dealin' un'er th' table wi' the Insurrectionists. Feedin' 'em info an' passin' on research an' th' like.
Dude, w's fuckin' pissed. We were on s'me planet, don' rightly r'member which one righ' now, an Rio wen' on'a rampage tryin'a find th' Doc. Foun' 'im on th' dirt, deep in th' city, in'a big ol' skyscraper 'n th' middle o' bein' built, so there w's construction tools ev'rywhere.
They were on one'a th' top floors—th' Doc an' Momma Deares' an'a couple'a th' other Titans. Cisco—uh, Kronos—an' Trix. 'R rather Metis. Were a couple'a rebels th're, too, bu' I didn' bother shootin' 'em on accoun'a Rio tellin' me no' ta bother. Unholstered my pistol, tho', ta show 'em no' ta mess w'th us.
Rio le' 'em go, an' star'ed yellin' a' th' Doc. Lotta unkind things, they said ta each other, 'ventually Rio he said he w's gonna no-ti-fy the U-N-S-C.
Sorry, kind'a hard ta 'nunciate things when yer sloshed out'a yer mind, ya know?
S', where w's I? Righ':
Wh'n Rio said tha', th' Doc an' Momma Deares' jus' sorta looked a' each other, th'n th' Doc jus' nodded a' Cisco… an' [sniffle] an' Cisco sho' Rio.
No' even a double-tap ta th' head or a kill sho', jus' sho' him in th' ches' an' let gravi'y do th' res'. Rio w's stan'in' near th' edge, see, an' th' impact made 'im stumble back.
[indecipherable mumbling, bottle clinking]
Caugh' h'm, tho'. Caugh' h'm bu' we both jus' tumbled over th' edge. Las' I saw'a them few a while w's wh'n we wen' over. 'Nyway, m'naged ta catch hold'a th's metal cable 's we fell, an' held onta tha' fucker 's hard 's I could, ya know?
Tha's where I go' th' scar on m'hand, by th' way—i's on m'left hand, an' it hurt like Hell, bu' I didn' let go 'f Rio 'cos 'f it, s' tha's somethin'…
Nah, he ma'e me do tha' a bi' after tha', wh'n he realized I couldn' hold both 'f us. Argued 'bout i' for a minu'e, afore he treated me ta couple'a kidney shots, the dirty bas'ard…
[silence]
Le' 'im go…
Le' 'im go when I should'a toughed it ou'…
[brief silence, bottle smashing in distance]
Th' Hell'd I do tha'? Th' Hell'd I jus' let go'a him for?!
Doesn' mat'er, I s'pose, 'cos I did. M'naged ta hoist m'self up after tha', and wen' ta th' neares' mil'tary base. COM'd one'a th' 'Nitiative supervisors an' ratted th' Doc ou' ta th' ONI cretins. Bas'ards didn' even nab him afore he scuttled. Took a few'a th' older Titans with 'im, an' a few'a th' older Titans tried ta bring their partners, bu' most'a us didn' wanna help 'em kill people. We jus' wan'ed ta kill th' Covies…
'S you could 'magine, i' didn' en' well, an' th' Doc an' those traitors wen' un'erground an' lef' us ta deal w'th th' fallou'.
S'basically th' 'Nitiative w's scrubbed, an' s'omehow i' w's leaked, wha' happ'ned, so they didn' 'zecactly have plaus'ble deniabli'y, an' ONI le' us off'a th' hook. A couple'a Titans stayed in service, tho'—get COMs from th'm ev'ry now an' then.
Zoë an' Loren stay in contac' an' visi' on leave, bu' Roxanne doesn' rully see th' poin', I guess. Sh's rully th' only one 'f us tha' doesn' keep up reg'lar COMs; all th' rest'a th' Titans do. Can' be bothered, s'pose.
Well, tha's mos'ly i'—now 'm in Freelancer, 'cos I owe th' Doc an' Cisco a li'l payback.
Agent Louisiana has logged off.
—December 25--
Okay, fuck, so this is… um, journal entry numero uno and y'all gotta bear with me 'cos it's been a rully long time since I've done this and I h'd ta get drunk as fuck-all to even b'gin.
So, ladies an' gents, let's start out with a "Road So Far…" recap, huh?
Right, okay, yeah. This is the former-Agent Hecate of the Titan Initiative, but might register as "Echo-Zero-Four-Two" under all tha' black ink. W's born as "P.C. Princeton", though—leas' I think I was. Go by "Louisiana" these days, now 'm in Project Freelancer.
Th' Initiative was one'a those new programs that ONI backed during th' early years'a the Human-Covie War; w's kinda like a Spartan-wannabe program. There were others, ones I can't name 'cos I don't 'ficially know their names, but I know th're were others. Had ta be…
'Nyway, started off sorta like Spartan-II— 'cept the big men in charge didn't rully like kidnappin' children, so they went after pregnant women. Paid the sorry bastards for the rights ta their unborn kids, and 'sperimented on 'em in th' womb. 'Sperimented on us in the womb.
'Cos n'matter who my mother was, I was always one'a them. You'd think tha' havin' yer mom 's the chick in charge'a the brainy side'a the program would keep ya fr'm havin' ta go through some'a the shit we did, but no' s'much. Turns out, jus' makes the bitch feel more entitled ta test ou' all kinds'a crazy theories tha' she couldn' do 'thout consent.
So, these 'speriments sorta screwed with our DNA—they were tryin' ta make us strong an' fas' like the Spartans, but 'thout havin' ta pay fer th' upgrades. Sorta worked, s'pose—worked like th' Spartan-I's, anyways. Made us stronger 'n faster th'n normal soldiers, 'nyway. Tha's always a plus.
Messed w'th our heads, tho', too. Made us more 'gressive, if tha' w's what they want'd; made us more pliant 'n weak-mind'd if tha' w's what they want'd; made us anythin' they want'd, really.
Wasn' s'bad, I s'pose. Cold 's all Hell, an' rully fucked our in'erperson'l skills, bu' could'a been worse. No' c'mplete sociopaths, 't least. Tha's somethin'. Well, no' all 'f us were…
Uhm, righ', so, went on like tha' fer a long time, 'til the conditionin' started ta wear off. Started with 's youn'er ones—started questionin' orders 'n 'splayin' signs 'f in-de-pend-ent thought. B'came real ins'bordinate bastards.
'Ventually, one 'f us, name o' Rio—Krios, technic'ly—st'rted pokin' 'round th' archives. I w's one'a the youngest, so I jus' sorta followed orders. Rio's orders, 'nyway. Bro was m'partner, s'I didn't see th' big deal 'bout followin' him 'round like a li'l los' puppy-dog.
I w's there wh'n he found ou', ya know. Tha' th' Doc—Crichton, tha' is—was double-dealin' un'er th' table wi' the Insurrectionists. Feedin' 'em info an' passin' on research an' th' like.
Dude, w's fuckin' pissed. We were on s'me planet, don' rightly r'member which one righ' now, an Rio wen' on'a rampage tryin'a find th' Doc. Foun' 'im on th' dirt, deep in th' city, in'a big ol' skyscraper 'n th' middle o' bein' built, so there w's construction tools ev'rywhere.
They were on one'a th' top floors—th' Doc an' Momma Deares' an'a couple'a th' other Titans. Cisco—uh, Kronos—an' Trix. 'R rather Metis. Were a couple'a rebels th're, too, bu' I didn' bother shootin' 'em on accoun'a Rio tellin' me no' ta bother. Unholstered my pistol, tho', ta show 'em no' ta mess w'th us.
Rio le' 'em go, an' star'ed yellin' a' th' Doc. Lotta unkind things, they said ta each other, 'ventually Rio he said he w's gonna no-ti-fy the U-N-S-C.
Sorry, kind'a hard ta 'nunciate things when yer sloshed out'a yer mind, ya know?
S', where w's I? Righ':
Wh'n Rio said tha', th' Doc an' Momma Deares' jus' sorta looked a' each other, th'n th' Doc jus' nodded a' Cisco… an' [sniffle] an' Cisco sho' Rio.
No' even a double-tap ta th' head or a kill sho', jus' sho' him in th' ches' an' let gravi'y do th' res'. Rio w's stan'in' near th' edge, see, an' th' impact made 'im stumble back.
[indecipherable mumbling, bottle clinking]
Caugh' h'm, tho'. Caugh' h'm bu' we both jus' tumbled over th' edge. Las' I saw'a them few a while w's wh'n we wen' over. 'Nyway, m'naged ta catch hold'a th's metal cable 's we fell, an' held onta tha' fucker 's hard 's I could, ya know?
Tha's where I go' th' scar on m'hand, by th' way—i's on m'left hand, an' it hurt like Hell, bu' I didn' let go 'f Rio 'cos 'f it, s' tha's somethin'…
Nah, he ma'e me do tha' a bi' after tha', wh'n he realized I couldn' hold both 'f us. Argued 'bout i' for a minu'e, afore he treated me ta couple'a kidney shots, the dirty bas'ard…
[silence]
Le' 'im go…
Le' 'im go when I should'a toughed it ou'…
[brief silence, bottle smashing in distance]
Th' Hell'd I do tha'? Th' Hell'd I jus' let go'a him for?!
Doesn' mat'er, I s'pose, 'cos I did. M'naged ta hoist m'self up after tha', and wen' ta th' neares' mil'tary base. COM'd one'a th' 'Nitiative supervisors an' ratted th' Doc ou' ta th' ONI cretins. Bas'ards didn' even nab him afore he scuttled. Took a few'a th' older Titans with 'im, an' a few'a th' older Titans tried ta bring their partners, bu' most'a us didn' wanna help 'em kill people. We jus' wan'ed ta kill th' Covies…
'S you could 'magine, i' didn' en' well, an' th' Doc an' those traitors wen' un'erground an' lef' us ta deal w'th th' fallou'.
S'basically th' 'Nitiative w's scrubbed, an' s'omehow i' w's leaked, wha' happ'ned, so they didn' 'zecactly have plaus'ble deniabli'y, an' ONI le' us off'a th' hook. A couple'a Titans stayed in service, tho'—get COMs from th'm ev'ry now an' then.
Zoë an' Loren stay in contac' an' visi' on leave, bu' Roxanne doesn' rully see th' poin', I guess. Sh's rully th' only one 'f us tha' doesn' keep up reg'lar COMs; all th' rest'a th' Titans do. Can' be bothered, s'pose.
Well, tha's mos'ly i'—now 'm in Freelancer, 'cos I owe th' Doc an' Cisco a li'l payback.
Agent Louisiana has logged off.