Half Life: Micromort
Author's Note: Half Life: Micromort has been a pet project I have been working on for over a year and counting, constantly editing and tweaking it to my liking. The story is told from the perspective of three different employees (somewhat like Pulp Fiction) of Black Mesa and how they deal with the incident. I have taken care to research every aspect of the story to accurately fit into the Canonical timeline of the Half Life series right down to the exact timing. I have also given each character and side character accurate weapons and Npc's they are based off of from the Black Mesa mod. Each named character is based off of the lockers of scientists and security guards shown in various games expansions and mods. If you look carefully you might even find references hidden (or not so well hidden) in the chapters. So enjoy the story and be sure to comment and review!
Chapter 1 : Personnel Inbound
Subject: Anthony Murtaugh
Location: Tram 37a
Assignment: Security
Clearance Level: 3
Disaster Response Priority:
High: Welfare of Research Personnel
Secondary: Preservation of Materials
Low: Personal Safety
Anthony Murtaugh stepped off the bustling platform teeming with scientists and security guards and onto the cold metallic tram. Sitting down he waited for the inevitable voice of the tram announcer. Suddenly, the robotic voice came on and he echoed its greeting with an exaggerated tone, mocking the monotonous system.
"Good Morning and welcome to the Black Mesa Transit System. This automated tram is provided for the safety and convenience of Black Mesa personnel and visitors to the Black Mesa Research Facility."
Murtaugh looked around the interior of the tram. Two scientists and a security guard were encompassed around him. One scientist, with red hair that thinned towards the center of his head was looking over the Black Mesa Times in the far seat of the tram.
The other scientist, closest to him, a middle aged man who was 6-1 and completely bald, was giving the guard next to him an earful about the administrator.
Listening to the news conscious scientist was one of Murtaugh's favorite morning pastimes.
" and that's not everything! I'm also fairly certain that I heard the administrator is in a very close relationship with a man by the name of "Jude Mossman"! It's obviously a scandalous homosexual affair!"
Anthony had began to grow tired of the administrator's sex life. He had nothing against Breen anyway. But every time someone started to talk about a relationship, he would wind up getting depressed.
His last girlfriend Amanda had cheated on him with the facility's popular security guard Fernando Juarez, causing Anthony to go into a downward spiral of depression. He hadn't been in a remotely serious relationship since then.
Anthony remembered life before all the late nights on his shift.
His cousin Matt was the one who had referred him to Black Mesa. Matt was head of security in Sector E. He had showed up to see Anthony a few times after he was hired. Then there was the accident. One of the labs in Sector E had burst leaking Ethanol-Monoxide into several hallways. Anthony was supposed to be on his shift there. Matt took it instead to make up for the money he owed him. When the HAZMAT workers arrived several employees had inhaled the gas. Including Matt. The bodies were bloated and discolored when Anthony saw them hauled out. His aunt and uncle never forgave him for transferring his fate to Matt. It took a lot of convincing for him to stay at Black Mesa after that.
He wondered why he still worked here anymore.
Murtaugh leaned against the back of his seat and started to nap.
Subject: Roger Thompson
Location Sector D Offices
Assignment: Board of Directors
Clearance Level: 5
Disaster Response Priority:
High: Preservation of facility
Secondary: Personal Safety
Low: Preservation of materials
Roger Thompson strolled down the concrete hallways of the Sector: D Office Complex with an air of contempt. Most of the staff was slightly nervous today due to the experiment that would take place in an hour.
Several scientists were joking with one of the security guards. Thompson's eyes singled out the guard as he ushered in a sense of fear on those present. Roger decided to intimidate them to get back to work. Glaring at the guard, he taunted
"Richards, shouldn't you be guarding some donuts and coffee right now!"
The security guard muttered "yes sir" with a look of disdain, and begrudgingly went back to his post.
Roger took the opportunity to harass the scientists. "You should be at your peak level of maximum performance level today. Your jobs will depend on it."
Satisfied, Roger went on his way to his office.
Subject: Harold Cummings
Clearance Level: 4
Location: Topside Transportation Building
Disaster Response Priority:
High: Evacuation of personnel
Secondary: Cooperation with Authorities
Low: Personal safety
Harold stood in line at the checkpoint in the busy halls of the Transportation Bureau. The sunroof dome of the building shone vibrantly onto the crowd below. The faint silhouette of a man with a briefcase is seen on the second level above the hall where Harold stood.
In front of the crowds a pair of roads that hold several buses used to transport personnel to their dormitories are taking on passengers from the late night shift.
Nearby at one of the security stations is Security officer James Guthrie. Leaning over the security cameras he waves the next scientist through. To the disappointment of everyone, the pass codes are mismatched from person to person and the security personnel have the frustrating job of sorting them all out.
Harold hoped that he would get to work on time for the big experiment this morning. If he failed to show up on time the administrator would surely have his head. It would be like being in Harvard all over again.
The thought made him cringe. Sure, going to Harvard had easily gotten him into the Black Mesa hierarchy. But not without drawbacks. In the eight years he worked on his Post doctorate, the promise of Proton powered electricity excited the scientific community the world over. His initial experiments had opened a new field in Chemical Engineering. Hundreds of jobs were created in the first years of the study. Then that lousy manager Roger diverted its funding to cover an addition to the Area 7 Recreational Facilities. Presumably a gambling hall.
All their research was lost in an "accidental" flooding a few weeks after the announcement. Harold had his doubts about the official findings of its cause. He knew when someone was withholding the truth.