To say he wasn't adjusting well was an understatement. How could someone like himself think something like this was even remotely considered normal? Because it wasn't. It wasn't something that he hoped that he would end up getting used it, so he was doing his best to try and keep himself ready for if another Freelancer had suffered the same fate that had happened to him. It was annoying, to say the least, and he hadn't really interacted with others, other than those that had the same helmets as him. He hadn't gone to ask around who were former humans like himself. What Bastille had said about no one being able to make it being back to human certainly concerned him. He couldn't afford to have that happen, as if he took too long and did end up making it back to the real world, it would mean that the organization would immediately think that he had betrayed them. Not believing a word he said just because of the entire ridiculousness of it all. From where Washington came from, there were several different planets that were capable of being habitized for them. Either that or they would simply terraform a planet so that humans would be able to live on it. After the war had started it meant that the majority of the workforce from Earth was forced to become soldiers in order to keep themselves from going extinct. That was how Project Freelancer ended up coming up to be. It was a means of protecting the future of the human race. At least that's what he was told when he was fire recruited. It pissed him off now thinking that everything up to this point he had been told was nothing but a lie. Having been stabbed in the back by the organization that he gave everything for. Even his own sanity after the failure of implantation to have a computer inside of his head. Now his situation was even worse because he still wasn't in the best condition to really be anything violent. He wasn't the best of the group that he had been with, but he could still manage to protect himself.

Not realizing the dormant power that he had underneath his skin just waiting to be discovered in this world. He had asked Bastille when he first arrived, well, more like crash-landed, in the territory that he was going to need to use the telescope. He wasn't that great when it came to astronomy but he had to try something. The wildcat needed to figure out which planet he was on since no one seemed to have answers and he wasn't willing to ask others either. So, he had been doing a little bit of research while he was waiting around for something to happen. Gathering intel had always been part of the job back when he was a human, and this didn't change anything. He kept to himself, and no one seemed to bother him. Just how he liked it. With night falling though, Washington made his way back toward the observatory which was quite big and in good condition. Agent Washington had yet to even give out his name to those that he had indeed talked to. Names were powerful, and he couldn't afford to have someone that was an enemy of Project Freelancer be hiding in the ranks. Maybe he was paranoid, but having been stabbed in the back already, he didn't want to have a repeat of what happened. The armored smilodon was sitting just at the top of the stairs that lead to the telescope. he was going to need to figure out where the stars were in relation to where he was, based on the month, and figure out how many moons that this planet had to be able to identify where he was at. He had an astronomy textbook from earth that was somewhat outdated, Washington having come from an era where technology was a lot more advanced. If he had an AI- No. He wasn't going to have another AI again. He could do this himself without the help of a computer. He blinked his eyes behind the helmet that he wore before looking through the eye of the telescope. He was able to find a starting point, and he was going to figure where the hell he was. Then from there, he would be able to evolve a plan to get him back to what was left of the organization that nearly killed him. Washington didn't say anything while he worked, making notes on the page with his claws and occasionally flipping. The gears in his head working overtime to make sure that he didn't miss anything. "speech"

He would have much rather given someone lower than him in the ranks this kind of job. Most of those that were on the spaceship where he had done most of his training was somewhat capable when it came to basics tasks. It wasn't hard to ask someone to look up the planet they were on based on their coordinates either. It was standard procedure to be able to track radio signals and other methods so that they could be able to find their targets quickly and efficiently. Washington was mostly tasked with violence when it came to the project that had morphed him into what he was today. Which was both good and bad because he wasn't amazing when it came to his calculations. He was more practical than anything, and would be willing to risk other's lives to get what he needed. Which made him dangerous right now, and if he saw other Freelancers he would probably attack first and ask questions later. None of them could be trusted and he wasn't about to turn his back against one of those that had gone through the same things he did. When he was in the infirmary when everything started to go to shit, he didn't know which Freelancers were going to defend the project and which ones were bound to turn against the director. He knew of Tex and possibly York, but those were the only names that came to mind. So, the rest would probably try to find him in order to take him out and he couldn't have that now could he? It would be a death wish now for two freelancers who were fighting for two different sides to find one another. Looking through all the textbooks that he asked others to give to him made him feel like he was back during basic training classes. It was a headache to the headache that he already had. It was basically a migraine at this point, and he still hadn't slept since he arrived in this place.

The terms that most of these animals used only seemed to confuse him more, but other than that he was getting the hang of what was happening around him. At least this place didn't seem to be the type that would blow up as soon as he arrived. He still needed to interrogate those that were indeed former humans. Which would be easier said than done because everyone had their own secrets. He couldn't pull ranks here, and he certainly couldn't use violence since this basically was him being in the center of the enemy base. If he made the wrong move he would have every creature that lived here at his throat and has no way to fight them off. Which would just be great. Now the question would be, what would he do once he found out what planet he was on? What was he really expecting? It was some form of information that he could use when it came to interacting with humans. If humans still lived on this planet that is. He had to try something, as sitting around wasn't something he enjoyed doing. He would work himself practically to exhaustion, giving himself maybe only an hour of sleep each day, or no sleep at all depending on what he was doing. Before he had a computer that tried to destroy itself inside of his head, he would have been happy to sleep in a little bit. Now, he was completely different from the Freelancer he once was. Agent Washington thought to himself as he flipped over another page, coming to a diagram of stars based on the month they were in. Which he had to ask was the month of June. One thing that was going to take a while getting used to though, was how fucking silent everyone seemed to work. He was so used to hearing the clanking of armor when his coworkers would walk around on the metal flooring. But here, everyone had padded paws that basically made them as silent as if they had a cloaking armor enhancement.

It meant that his nerves were almost constantly set on fire when he was around a large group of those that belonged to this outpost. Washington debated to stop and look at Suiteheart when she spoke. He tried his best to keep his nerves down, but due to the lack of sleep, it would be obvious in his body language that the other caught him by surprise. Washington would mentally curse himself for not being ready to be approached. He raised one of his dark grey paws and adjusted the Mark 6 helmet on his face, before looking away from the telescope he was looking to address the white domestic cat. "The offer is appreciated but I've established basically a collection when I started to ask around for them. It's mostly a refresher for me to learn everything again." Agent Washington would say in a calm tone, although it sounded like he was back to his shoulder mindest. He didn't know how to address any of the animals that lived in this place. One part of his brain told him to address them by name, but the other part told him that he was better than that. He didn't know the rank that Suiteheart held. He only knew that Bastilleprisoner was the leader. After addressing the other face to face, although really helmet to face, Agent Washington went back to his work looking through the telescope, occasionally looking back at the book. The more he looked, the more his throat seemed to clench up as realizations began to dawn on him. "I'm trying to see if I'm on the planet that I think I'm on, Sol lll, otherwise known as Earth." Washington would speak calmly again, as there was no point in really trying to hide what he was doing right now. Did any of them even know what planet they were on? Would he believe them if they told him that he was on Earth? Probably not. "speech"