I was going through some old files when I found this snippet. It's was finished, but it's not really a traditional story. Instead, it's more of a reflection on a conclusion of the series that follows the second season's finale. To be honest, when I read this I realized I'd forgotten many of the evidents of the show. But at the time, I strong grasp of canon and so this deals with the lose ends, including many of awkward storylines many would probably like to forget. Take this for what it was - an exercise for an analytical mind.
What everyone seemed to forget was that they were designed to be perfect soldiers. Soldiers – military units meant for battle. Max alone could take out five trained combatants without breaking a sweat. In conjunction with a two others from her unit, that number didn't just triple it quadrupled.
Lydecker had once said he had been trying to build something. Instead of sending a thousand troops into battle and losing a hundred, he wanted to send ten perfect soldiers and lose none. Unfortunately, for the government, he succeeded. So, the army, the navy, the air force could all sit on the outskirts of terminal city, they could draw their finest guns, tanks and airplane – but they'd never win. Their best weapons were already inside the gates – together, trained, and ready to fight for a cause they believed in.
Too bad old Donald wasn't around to tell them that, to let them know that engagement was stupid and futile. Too bad everyone was so scared of the transgenics that they couldn't see how their own government had already created the next evolutionary step in humanity's existence.
Max and the transgenics did their best to postpone the bloodshed, but it came to their door and was handed back as quickly as it came. It was too bad for the regular soldiers that they had to die that day before anybody higher up in the chain of command remembered these things.
But eventually and inevitably they did. After the first victory, after they realized their nuclear and atomic target weapons had all been stolen or tampered with through enemy filtrations. After they realized that this was one minority group that contained every conceived advantage linked to force. After all that - amnesty was granted to the transgenics. Laws of the jungle are difficult to debate.
And so the military victory was won.
The media war raged on for a few months after, but transgenics were blessed with higher functioning brain power and remarkably good-looks. So, Max, Alec, and the other X5s became the public face of the movement. Their aesthetically perfect, heart-breakingly beautiful faces were plastered everywhere, pleading for peace and understanding, saying that they were all human.
The American public didn't stand a chance. It was always a sucker for a pretty face, forgiving far graver faults than a little feline DNA in the cocktail. And in the end, humanity's own narcissistic tendencies demanded that it categorize these flawless, graceful individuals as human. It needed to so it could point to them and say all their virtues were theirs, the public's. As always, society held up its best and brightest for worship.
And after all, they whispered, wasn't it America that discovered the ability to manufacture such perfection? And didn't that show how wonderful the average citizen was that someone like Max was made by them? They'd believe.
And so, public perception was won over.
Concerning the "less" human creations, well, America followed its own history and gave those they perceived as "other" lands that nobody wanted, away from themselves.
It still remains to be seen if Terminal city would eventually house casinos and sell cigarettes.
It was a partially lost battle, but no one expected a win there. However, if you ask some of the X2, sitting on their front porches with beer, they don't seem terribly concerned.
Finally, there were the Familiars.
Max's DNA had been manufactured years before to create the solution to that problem. It kicked in, wiping out the threat, destroying the invading microscopic bodies. And if Max's immune system could do that, well what chance does a puny virus stand in an antibody-making machine?
It died, un-mourned, minutes after the genetic sequence had been activated. The Familiars were, therefore, beaten.
But the battle of Max and Logan's, that's a different story.
Traditional methods had never applied between these two. At first figuratively and then literally they couldn't touch, and simply lifting that ban didn't create a magical panacea. Far too much damage had been done, she had thought. Too much pain endured, according to him. Maybe it was unfixable, maybe it was best to give in to all the extraordinary circumstances that kept them apart.
Although it took longer than any of the other battles, Max and Logan's inhibitions also fell to a time-tested cure. In the heat of bodies, in the burning of loins, in the friction between skins – much of what was wrong melted away.
How common and droll to find that the anger and annoyance of a thousand fights and life-endangering struggles could be solved with a conventional bodily interaction. How ridiculously commonplace to know that a simple act could assure the security that freed them from their inner demons and past pain. They gave in to desperation, and came out with intense satisfaction.
And that was it… they were an ordinary couple. An ordinary couple who did extraordinary things, but who none the less bickered and squabbled, who made up and made out, who discussed laundry and groceries and anniversaries.
The solutions were all there, only a few steps of obvious away.