Author's note:
A brief look at Jonathan's life before the Initiative, and how he managed to attract the attention of the Pathfinder.
DEGRASSE TYSON ACADEMY
NEW YORK CITY, EARTH
2179 CE
His hands shook as he read the letter.
The sun was a blinding disc in the clear blue sky, muted sounds of traffic in the distance. The crystal-clear waters of the academy's lake seven floor below beckoned, enticing classroom-weary students to explore its depths. A bird flew past, its song a melody, a promise of freedom and hope, carried on the wind.
He wished he could shoot the bird.
He crumpled the sheet in a hand, sank his face into the other, trying to blot out the world with darkness. His shoulders heaved as he made a valiant effort to hold back the tears, but as anyone who had received bad news from home could attest, he failed.
He'd never felt more alone here in the academy, surrounded by people he didn't know, living in a completely different environment. He'd made acquaintances, yes, but once he mentioned that he was from the slums, friendly faces suddenly clouded over, body language changed from open and inviting to closed and cautious. He found himself sitting alone at lunchtime, poking his fork at a meal he could only dream of back in the slums; now, it's standard lunch fare. Not that he wasn't glad to be here; he was very grateful for the opportunity, happy to be able to leave that life behind, to continue doing what he liked to do.
He thought that things would be different. He was optimistic. Thinking that he could finally make some real friends, see the rest of Earth, maybe even travel to distant planets or planetary systems. He held his head high when he first stepped into the academy's compound, brand-new uniform with the Systems Alliance logo displayed prominently above his left breast. He'd gotten an omnitool implant – a proper omnitool! – and looked forward to classes so much, he couldn't sleep.
As it turns out, life has a way of fucking with you wherever you go. Six months in, and here he was, sitting all alone, on the balcony of his dorm room, watching as life continued around him, uncaring, as tears streamed down his face. No matter how bad things were here in the academy – and they do get bad at times – he always had her to talk to, hearing her voice over a crackly comms channel. She'd always been so supportive, so encouraging, even after all that he'd done, things that could break someone's heart several times over, cause someone to lose faith in you completely, she was always there. He could imagine her in his mind's eye now, her soft smile, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek.
Everything will be alright, Jonathan. I'm here. Then, she'd give him a big hug, his worries all melting away, and he'd truly believe that things will work out, a light in the darkness that was slum life.
He'd just read her final will and testament. He was truly alone in this life, now.
He raised his eyes to the heavens. "I'm sorry, mother," he whispered.
A YEAR LATER
2180 CE
"Mr. Walker?"
Jonathan lifted his eyes from his holoscreen. "Yessir, Mr. Finch?"
The rest of the class had left; Jon was finishing up writing a program for a project due next month. Professor Finch adjusted his eyeglasses; he'd refused gene therapy to correct his nearsightedness. It made him look a little grandfatherly – and a little intimidating, depending on what mood he was in at the moment.
Jon sensed that he was neither in this instant.
"You did very well on the recent test. Very well indeed," Mr. Finch smiled.
It vanished as soon as it appeared. "So well that, well, I have to ask –"
"Sir, I had nothing to do with last week's server breach," Jon stated, feeling irritation rising within him. The breach, initiated from within the academy, caused the leak of the entire question bank for examinations, past and future. The lecturers were, of course, upset at this. It didn't help Jonathan had excellent scores in programming, one of the key skills for hacking. He'd already been questioned by the academy's director and head of security.
"Of course, of course," Mr. Finch said hastily. "Not that I doubt your ability, Mr. Walker, just wondering if you have had… perfectionist tendencies."
"Sorry, sir, but I take that as a personal insult," said Jon flatly. He saved up his work, keeping his temper in check. "While I am glad to be here and know where I am from, I don't intend to cheat my way to the top, sir. Have a nice day."
He walked away without a backwards glance. His anger turned to bitterness.
Jonathan sipped at his drink, a soda. She promised him that she'd show up at seven; he'd combed his hair carefully, found a nice place in the academy's cafeteria, a table by the large panel windows, a perfect view of the setting sun.
She slid into the seat opposite his. "So sorry, Jon, got sidetracked," she smiled, her dark skin catching the dying light beautifully. She was probably the only girl who he spoke to who didn't flinch at the fact that he was from the slums. They'd been meeting up for dinner for quite some time now, and tonight he intended to let her know how he felt about her.
"It's alright," he smiled, feeling a little awkward.
They chatted as they ate, Jon enquiring about her day, she in turn taking an interest in a particularly difficult problem which Jon had managed to defeat with a clever workaround. They spoke animatedly; she laughed at a joke Jon cracked, Jon smiling stupidly, watching her laugh.
They took a walk in the gardens. Sat by the lake, under the moonlit sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
She nodded. "Yeah, it most certainly is," closing her eyes, lifting her face.
"Not as beautiful as you tonight, though," Jon ventured, heart pounding.
She laughed. "Good one, Jon! Thank you for the compliment," she smiled.
He wondered how he should broach the subject. Eventually, he decided the straight, most honest way is the best policy. "Listen, I have something to tell you."
She shifted her body, turning to look at him. "Ooh, sounds serious," she teased.
"I am," he said. There was no turning back now. "You know, how we've been meeting up like this for a while now?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, I was wondering, if you'd… allow me to take you out sometime? I've been having feelings for you for quite some time now, and I…"
The words tumbled out of his mouth, uncharacteristic of him. He quickly clamped his mouth shut, fearing he may have gone too far.
She was quiet for a moment, looking out over the water.
"That's… nice of you to ask, Jon," she said slowly. "I've always appreciated your company, you're a good friend. I love our talks, our little discussions. But I'm afraid… I'm afraid I do not feel the same way. I'm sorry," she concluded quietly. "Can we just be friends, please?"
The words stuck an icy knife into his heart. He managed to choke out, "Erm, well, of course. No problem."
She drifted away after a while, after joining a study group, new friends. He never called her again.
He was alone.
LUNA
IN ORBIT AROUND EARTH
SOL SYSTEM
2181 CE
Alec Ryder brought the schematic up on his holoscreen. He rubbed his chin as he reviewed the specs. Ingenious – there was no other word for it. While it's true that Alliance scientists and engineers have been working on a prototype for years now, there was always something that would cause the prototype to fail – caused a death once, he reflected sadly. A black day. But this design, it circumvented most of the usual problems, even a few rare ones. Whoever designed this had most definitely thought it all out, checked all the variables, tested them against all the possible scenarios.
"Who designed this?"
His assistant checked her datapad. "Jonathan Chang Walker, sir. Recently graduated from the deGrasse Tyson Academy with full honors, shaved two years off the usual four. He submitted this as his graduation project and even demonstrated its use successfully. I believe the event was reported on the extranet, sir."
"Where is he now?"
"He applied to enter the Civilian Engineering Corps, sir, R&D Division. Awaiting approval."
"In my personal capacity, consider that application granted. Keep an eye on him. I want updates, twice monthly."
"Yessir."
"And forward that extranet link to my omnitool, please."
A jump-pack. Most definitely useful, mused Alec as he rose, leaving his office. As he strode down the hall, he spared a glance outside. The rough shape of a starship greeted him, its size only made apparent by the way it blocked out the stars – almost the entire visible sky, from his perspective.
The Andromeda Initiative will be a success, he told himself firmly. And now he may yet have another asset to acquire. Only time will tell.