The Director stood in the center of the landing bay. The MOI Workers, bustled about busily. Moving and stacking assorted shipping containers. The loud groaning hum of 479ers pelican, reverberated throughout the large vaulted room, as she lifted up and prepared to dock in another landing bay.
A few freelancers moved about the hoards of workers. Agents, Carolina, Wyoming, Washington, Maine, and New York. They would lift especially heavy boxes that were too much for the workers, and help unload shipments of ammunition as well as special weapons. The Director turned towards a shorter black man who approached. "Counselor. Do you have conformation if the asset arrived?" He asked placidly. His thick Country accent accentuated by his slow tone.
"Of course Director. As well as her history papers, medical records, and stats." The reply given by Counselor was just about as slow the question asked by the other man. The Director raised an eyebrow. "Read them to me." He ordered. Counselor nodded, before flipping through a file in his hands.
"Designation, Experiment 626, out of 627. She was one of three twins. Implemented into the program at age 5. One year later, one sibling a brother, was eliminated from the program, do to a severely low intelligence caused by head trauma. The other brother, two years ago was responsible for-" he was interrupted suddenly by the Director. "When i, asked, you to read counselor, i meant her abilities."
The counselor dipped his head. "My apologies, Director. She's been in Cryogenic stasis for two years now. So she may need rehabilitation to get back to these records. She has strength 100 times her body weight. She's Fire proof, plasma proof, she's twice as fast as the average solider. She can leap twice as high as well. She has had muscle grafts of Alien Elite soldiers as well as surgery to implant a secondary heart of an Elite." He looked up to gauge the directors reaction. Though his stern face remained mostly stoick, his eyes were wide with what could only be disbelief. He then turned back to the folder flipping through until he found another paragraph suitable to what the director wanted.
" She has undergone intensive assimilation into the perfect solider. She will follow orders with deft precision, she will not question any directive. If she is in, what is simply referred as 'Solider Mode'; Which is in turn Triggered by the following code, Order-66. She is then rendered empty of any thought or willpower, and the more carnal instincts of the elite take hold.
However, her molecular structure is so dense that she cannot swim. She would drown almost instantly. She is also diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety." The counselor finished. Flipping shut the pamphlet and holding it towards the director.
The elder man took it, "Thank you Counselor. Where is the Cryo pods location?"he asked with a quick glance around. Most of the cargo around the bay had been accounted for and taken elsewhere, but there was still a large mass of un categorized shipments near the far wall from the two men. The black man spoke, "It was delivered approximately three hours ago. It should be over there", he gestured to the crates." In a large wooden box for shipping." "Thank you counselor. Agents!" The director suddenly called out. All heads turned towards the man, as all bodies quickly flurried to present themselves at attention.
"At ease. There is a box. It's approximately five to six feet tall, wood. Somewhere over in that shipment. It may have the numbers '626' printed on the side. Bring it to me." He ordered in a clear commanding voice. Quickly the agents made their way to the stacks. York, in his bronze armor, elbowed Wash playfully. "Hey, betc'ha I'll find that crate first." He teased the younger soldier playfully. A scoff could be heard from the Grey and yellow freelancers helmet. "You wish. You can't even find your Deodorant bottle half the time!" He taunted vivaciously. York groaned and lightly punched the less experienced solider. "Dude! That was a one time thing! And North took it!." With a chuckle from the shorter one the two split ways to search for their directive. Meanwhile merely feet away from Washington, A British agent had stumbled across the box. It towered at nearly 8 feet. It was made of a sturdy red wood that seemed battered around the edges. Almost as if it was old. Large words indicated that it was fragile, extremely so, and that it was of utmost importance it remained upright. The Cargo Identification tag read out, 'EXPERIMENT LIVE TRANSPORTATION CRYOGENIC STATSIS LOCK 626.'
The white clad man eyed it, just as Agent Washington came around the corner. "Hey Wyoming, you-" he stopped as he spotted the box. The two Agents stared up at it. Feeling a daunting presence around the looming box. Both paused for a good ten to twenty seconds, absorbing the sheer size of it, and pondering the content
"Well that's quite enough of that! Come help me Boyo" Wyoming broke the tension stepping towards the box. Washington nodded coming forth as well, "Hey Wyoming, you think that perhaps you wouldn't mind telling York that i found it?" He asked quietly. Though a chuckle from behind him quickly diminished any hopes of that. York's smooth deep drawl came closer," Not much chance of that Wash. Seeing as i know." Washes head dropped in shame.
The Director stood talking quietly with the Counselor about plans for the new asset once found. When both their attentions were snatched to the far side of the landing bay. As three agents carried between them a precariously balanced box of most likely staggering weight. Directions and orders were shouted between the awkward party as they struggled to carry the massive crate. The two men backed up slightly for slight fear of being crushed as the box being wielded by the three men came towards them at a fast rate.
"Wash slow down!" York ordered. The smaller Agent barely managed a reply. "I can't, I'm losing my grip!" With a flurry of short remarks and orders the group seemed to be steadily falling to it's demise as the Grey and yellow agent crumpled under the pressure. His feet slipped out from under him, his armor bound back smacking against the floor, and had his eyes been visible through the orange tinted visor, were wide in terror as the massive crate seemed to be falling right atop him.
Luckily it was short and crashed to the steel ground merely a hairs width from his helmet. But the tattered wood creaked and cracked as it rolled forth crashing loudly with a symphony of splintering crashes. Moving forth at least ten feet before all the wood had broken apart and lay strewn about the floor in various states of disarray.
The large grey black steel pod shook ominously for a few moments, before settling precariously. It's tinted black windows blank to look at seemed to carry an unsettling gaze themselves. But the tension in the room was now directed at the small shivering agent just getting to his feet. "AGENT WASHINGTON!" Roared the director in a rage. He stomped over to the befuddled agent. Gripping his armor bound shoulder and ripping him to his feet.
"YOU BLUNDERING FOOL! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU COULD'VE JUST COST-"
*BOOM*
He fell silent. As did everyone in the room. The director slowly removed his hand from David's shoulder. As all eyes found themselves searching for the source of the noise, hoping futilely that it wasn't coming from where they knew it to be coming from.
*BOOM*
No doubts this time. It was coming from the pod. Fear now hung like thick silk draped across ones face. Constricting everyone's ability to breathe. The true reason for such fear? No one, not even the Director knew exactly what was in the pod. Sure, they knew stats, and medical records. But of an experiment. An experiment tortured into obedience, something that was once human and now possessed strength unrivaled to any living thing. An Experiment that had been locked away for well on two years. A thing. A thing, that was waking up.
*BOOM*
Everyone seemed to mass together. Edging in front of the pod, yet still backing away.
*BOOM*
Suddenly from within the murky depths of the tinted windows, a hand slapped onto the glass. Everyone flinched away, some small yelps of surprise could be heard. And a rather girlish scream was heard from Agent Wyoming.
The hand stayed in place for a few moments. All seemed normal about it for the few seconds that it was on the window. Before it withdrew. A pin, if dropped in the large room, would've been heard from all corners as everyone drew a collective breath.
The Director straightened his posture, regaining his composure once more. Before in less then a second, what could only be perceived as a foot, flashed breifly before with a tearing, booming crash of metal being ripped from its hinges sounded with almost deafening volume. At the same moment the pods doors were launched away. The twisted abused metal flying across the bay, a few workers scrambled out of the way as it struck the ground. A piercing squeal following as it skidded through the room across the floor.
Eyes tore themselves off the now, scrap metal that had been projected across the room and back to the pod. Just as a lithe figure stepped out of the shadowy container.
It was feminine. With no doubt's. It was garbed in a black form fitting under suit. Customarily worn under armor. Long black hair was tied back in what was once probably a high ponytail. From the distance specific features couldn't be quite made out, but a pair of luminous teal eyes were distinct from across the vast room. And they seemed to ensnare the likes of everyone. Before a voice, raspy from lack of use yet still distinguishable as clear and strong called out, "Who the Fuck do i have to kill, to get some fries around here!"
:::AUTHOR NOTE:::
Sorry for the third person perspective, couldn't think of any other way for this chap. Either way, this is chapter eine. What'd y'all think about it? Please do feel free to comment and critque I'm quite open to both. Thx for reading!
~Alexismarie626