It was fairly early morning. Well, it was early morning for the likes of Agent Washington who only gave himself two hours of sleep on a daily basis so he could work on finding clues on to how they had even got here. Bastille had told that there were plenty of former humans that seemed to join in the groups like this one. Which didn't seem to make any sort of sense because people would have noticed other people have gone missing. And yet nothing was being done? The first course of action was to see whether or not they were actually on Earth based on the architecture of the observatory that was his current base of operations. It wouldn't surprise him if the simulation soldiers were still asleep at this point, although he would make sure to make a point to wake them up soon. They were probably used to waking up at good enough hours and not being allowed to sleep in. Despite them not being the best military personnel, they were still in the military, having gone through basic and been through some simulations. Hence why he didn't think most of them were all that much helpful. Which was true, so he was mostly relying on himself to get everything done. HIs daily routine consisted of several things at once. He would go on a morning run around the entirety of the territory, figuring out exactly what was the limit of his body now that it was new. If he was a human he would be able to figure out exactly how long he could go without sleeping and eating and what his stamina was compared to others. Now it was extremely different but the concept was basically the same. It almost felt like he was starting over again from the very beginning of Project Freelancer. After his morning run, Wash would make sure to go to the storage of dried meat that he now kept away from everyone else since he couldn't stomach eating raw meat.

Having eaten mostly regular human food his entire life, and whatever MRE's could be considered to be, he wasn't about to just bite down on a deer leg. Besides, he had to make sure that his helmet was always on without taking it off, as he didn't enjoy showing his face to everyone around here. It kept up a very much needed barrier in his mind. It meant that he would be closed off to everyone else and that he wouldn't allow anyone to get close to him. There was never a reason after all because once he got back he probably wouldn't be in the place that these animals existed. After he got something to eat, he would go on patrol, as during his run he wouldn't be looking out for those that were like them. Based on Church's story, there were probably still other's around that might have popped up from their squad. Which would make sense because Church came after Caboose appeared. There was always a chance that Texas or other Freelancer that had been near said explosion would have suffered the same fate. And he would desperately try to make sure that they wouldn't get to this outpost. After giving his life to an organization that he thought he could trust only to be stabbed in the back, he wasn't about to trust anyone else like him. Maybe even attempt to kill them if he was given a chance. After going on patrol, which didn't take all that long, Agent Washington would go and make sure that Church and Caboose were awake, and if they weren't he would make sure to give them a rude awakening before giving them a task that could help. Once they were off, he would go back to the telescope for a couple of hours gathering possible clues on to what exact planet they were on. Where he came from, the UNSC and Project Freelancer knew about thousands of different planets that they were capable of traveling to. He didn't even remember the last time had been on Earth, but it certainly didn't look like it did where they were. Something was completely off about it, and he was going to figure out. By the time he was done with the telescope, the sun would already start going down.

He would eat a small second meal just to last him through to the rest of the night. His armor had lights built into them, and it made it easier for him to read during the middle of the night. Before he would start more research though he would take off sections of his armor and clean them. Checking his equipment to make sure it was working perfectly. To the soldier, the armor that he wore was basically just another part of his part. Which meant one needed to take care of it at all costs. Besides, his armor was practically worth more than his own life as each armor was made specifically. Although Mark 6 was a little different as the undersuit that they wore formed itself to their body so that the titanium alloy part of the armor could just sit on top of their body instead of being tailored specifically to each different body types. Washington wasn't so lucky. He needed to make sure that there weren't any points to his armor that could injure him or cause chaffing if he wasn't careful. He didn't have an undersuit like he did when he was human, but he did have fur that provided some form of protection. At least a little bit. After cleaning his equipment, he would go back into the observatory and read through some of the astronomy textbooks he had been given, and some history textbooks. Agent Washington didn't know how old the textbooks were, but it was better than nothing. The last time he had taken a course on astronomy and history had been back during basic training during the great war. After he read enough, he would eventually fall asleep. Only sleep for two hours thanks to the horrible nightmares that plagued his mind constantly. Which the nightmares weren't even his own. Which was just great. Right now it was around 0400 hours. Specifically, 4 am. At least that's what his internal clock said on the inside of his helmet where he was able to get his HUD partially working. As his helmet was basically a TV on the inside, but trying to power it up was almost impossible so he only got a couple programs to work inside of it. Time and Temperature features. Which was good enough for the Freelancer. He was just coming back to the observatory from his morning run. Skidding to a stop a little bit outside of the entrance of the place, panting through the vents of his helmet. His armor did weigh him down a bit, but the titanium portion of the armor made it so that the smilodon was capable of wearing it without being crushed under its weight. The extinct animal simply stopped to catch his breath, going through the different task he was going to do for today."speech"

He had always been average. Agent Washington had never excelled at really anything that he was put at. Which may be good to be average at everything instead of only have one thing that he was good at. It had to be something that he had gotten used to when he first joined the military. Thinking back he wasn't even sure when he had joined the military, all that he knew was that he was in his early 20's when he left his mother and sisters behind to fight for the war to make sure that the human race didn't go extinct from the alien race that was trying to eliminate them completely. He hadn't thought much of the military at some point, other than the fact that they needed some sort of win because the course that they were going down didn't show them winning at all. Over time he got better and soon he figured out that he was a decent marksman. Probably not the best compared to like York when he entered Project Freelancer. Instead, he was again as usual, average. His signature weapon is a battle rifle that was capable of shooting a round of bullets in three round bursts. The battle rifle itself had a decent range and getting a headshot against an alien was a sure way to make sure that they were out of commission forever. It was standard military equipment, as he had never been a fan of the different assault rifles, which were basically machine guns for the way that they worked. They weren't accurate enough for his taste. He always showed his prioress at on the training courses and shooting range. And it was during this time that he figured out exactly how stubborn he was when it came to wounds that he had gathered over the years. Wounds that should have killed him a long time ago. He would always bounce back from worst case scenarios, and that trait carried over back toward Project Freelancer. During his time in the actual military, which was called the UNSC, he climbed up the ranks at a decent rate. His goal had never been to be the best though. Eventually, he became a Corporal, which technically wasn't all that much when it just meant that he would be capable of leading his own squad and platoons. It did make him a little bit of a target against the alien race when they did go on missions. Take out the leader and leave the rest of the troops in disarray. Washington wasn't probably considered to be a good guy though when he was eventually court-martialled. Something other's would look at him for and think that he was the worst soldier in the world. But in his mind, he had done what he believed to have been right.

Washington had decided to shoot the commanding officer during a mission when said officer was willing to sacrifice the entire squad to get the mission done. Washington wasn't going to watch as everyone around him started to drop like flies. Besides, they needed as many marines as they could get if they wanted to win this wore and too many casualties wouldn't be positive overall and almost make capturing the objective null and void. So, Agent Washington did the next best thing in order to save his troops. He shot the officer himself. This way the other wouldn't be able to fight back against him for not following his orders, and he ordered a retreat. He saved all the lives of his men, but even with that, he was at fault in the entire situation. It didn't take him long to finally get court-martialled from the UNSC. It pissed him off at that moment because it didn't seem the military understood exactly how fucked they were at their current course of action. Either way, he had heard about a new military project that was coming to light and was looking for volunteers. It meant that he would almost have what seemed like a second chance to be better and still help the human race while not being in the UNSC. He applied to the program, and he was interviewed by the second command of the company. Otherwise known as the Counselor that took as psychological evaluation of his mental state and asked him why he was looking to join Project Freelancer. Agent Washington remembered saying that he believed the human race was losing against the alien enemy, and that this was probably their next best bet. If the UNSC was sponsoring a program like this, it meant that there was a chance that this program was actually going to be helpful to the rest of them. He was a Freelancer now, which meant that he was allowed to command and outrank any simulation troopers that he came across, but in terms of other military ranks he didn't really stand up to them. Maybe in skill for sure, but other than that he was just a Freelancer in a program that was either going to work or be doomed to fail. It was a hard choice to make, but Agent Washington signed his life away for the second time and adorned a new name. Almost forgetting his real name the same as that. He spent several years in Project Freelancer, approaching his late 20's by the time everything started to go to shit. Having nothing but super soldiers that were extremely competitive was bound to have some issues when they were put into teams. Wyoming didn't always follow orders, although he guessed the worst one would be South, he would risk the entire mission just to boost her ego a little bit.

He never really liked the female all that much, but they were all murderers so they had plenty in common. Everyone else did well to listen to the rules, but in the end, it was ultimately decided what side they were going to side with. Ones that wanted to defend the organization, and one that did didn't and wanted to see it burn to the ground. There were very few that wanted to secure it, and so the Agents were pitted against each other, basically to the point where they actually wanted to kill each other. Harsh, but that was how they always fought against opponents. Washington had used to believe that they were once considered family after spending year after year with one another. But there were very few bonds that were created with each other, as it was almost always about business. If one of them got hurt, of course, there was a concern, but that was basically as far as it was allowed to go. Since he was a Freelancer though, did that mean that he was outranking Roy? Far from it. The bobcat actually had a military rank while Washington had been court-martialled and basically had all of his UNSC files deleted when he joined Project Freelancer. Meaning that he didn't expect anyone to miss him when he suddenly disappeared completely or was even killed during duty. It was common for Projects like this, as he was expendable just like everyone else. Either way, he had been the worst of the best of the project, so he could still defend himself. Right now though? He didn't even know how to use a proper attack in a large body such as this one. Agent Washington always felt like his body was made out of rock as he struggled to get his speed to go a little bit faster. He could only run decently fast in short bursts, just like a lion could. He was going to have to read a little bit more about smilodon anatomy just to better himself. He also probably wouldn't know how to control his own strength around others, and counting the armor that he was wearing he could just as easily crush someone. He didn't want to kill anyone as of yet. Agent Washington soon was able to catch his breath as he stood outside of the observatory. Having done breathing practices during basic so that he wouldn't be as quickly winded. But it was different now in the form that he was in, as he had larger lung capacity than probably any human could ask for. Larger lungs were basically needed to fuel this much larger body. He looked down at the clock that was inside of his helmet displayed to the right. He had ten minutes before his next task started. That should give him enough time to rest his muscles, even if it was just a little bit.

When he looked from the inside of his helmet to the outside he caught a dark figure. Agent Washington couldn't stop the tensing of his shoulders, which luckily was hidden underneath his shoulder plates, at the sight of someone unfamiliar. It was only when they came more out into the light that he recognized the form. Although he still didn't know the other's name as of yet, as the bobcat had never been one to introduce himself. He wasn't sure if the other was a higher rank in this place, and so he was just going to treat the other somewhat casually for the time being. "This isn't early for someone like me." He had a schedule to follow, and he was going to follow it to a T. No one could change his schedule because it had been a schedule that he had set up for himself. After his run, he was a lot more awake than when he first actually woke up. Some adrenaline still pumping through his body, but he could already feel the aftermath dying down and his muscles starting to get sore. The armored smilodon turned his body so that he was looking in Roy's direction instead of looking at him from the side. He enjoyed having a helmet on his face as it didn't leave for any intimate moments to others. He had never been one for dealing with feeling things, having locked those away after what Episolon had done to his mind. Which he was still recovering from even now. The bobcat was finally going to introduce himself and hearing the title Colonel, Washington could feel his throat tense up slightly. This guy was a damn Colonel. Well just great. He regretted addressing the other informally when he had mentioned that he was out early. Agent Washington's body language seemed to change slightly as he drew his paws closer together, and held his head high. Something as a soldier would do when a higher ranked personnel was on the floor in front of him. "Agent Washington, Colonel sir." The armored smilodon resorted to using his usual soldier speech. The attitude that had been beaten into his body over the years over and over again. It was a force of habit, and there were some that were around that still didn't appreciate it all that much. It was something familiar for Washington to grasp onto though. It helped him, even if it was just a little bit. "speech"