"They're the best god-damned soldiers I've ever seen, better than anyone I can think of…and war's the only thing they know. When they're not on duty they're training, when they're not training they're sleeping in those damned hi-tech coffins of theirs. They don't have mommas to write to or friends to worry about, they never gripe about their crappy situation, all they want is to do their job and do it well. I don't know if I pity them or envy them but one thing's for sure…they scare the shit out of me."

-Samuel Khent, head of security for Grayson estate, retired U.S. Navy SEAL.

October 26, 2018

Project Harbinger Facility

After a pleasant lunch at an outdoor five star bistro, Mr. Grayson finalized the deal with Mr. Smith, the Armacham representative. It cost less than a summer cottage to buy the lives of fifteen men, and all it took was a quick scrawl of his name on some paperwork.

Two hours later he was in a silver Porche on his way back to the Grayson estate followed by an Armacham truck loaded with fifteen stasis pods. As he drove, Grayson flipped open a phone and speed dialed home. It picked up almost immediately, "Grayson Estate." The voice was a gruff no nonsense voice, the kind that could quail even the most hardened telemarketer.

"Khent, this is Mr. Grayson." He glanced at the comforting sight of the Armacham truck behind him, "You'll never guess what I picked up at the market."

Alpha 1 woke up approximately two hours after being placed in stasis. He stepped out of the tube and automatically examined his surroundings. He was in a long, dimly lit room, probably underground. He smelled car oil and gasoline and concluded he was in a garage. He looked left and right, noting each of his remaining fourteen brothers. Good, he hadn't lost anyone.

A man stood in front of them, surveying them with a scowl. He was short-Alpha 1 topped him by a good foot and a half- and he had graying hair cropped short. His eyes were dark and his face had several obvious shrapnel scars, now faded white with time. He looked all of them up and down with undisguised disgust.

"Alright, listen up ladies!" He barked suddenly.

Upon hearing his voice, Alpha 1 listened. The man, whoever he was, had secondary command level clearance, his voice had been imprinted in Alpha 1's head as a voice to obey. The change had no doubt taken place while he was asleep in stasis.

The man slowly started to walk up and down the line of clones, talking as he went.

"My name is Samuel Khent. To you test tube babies I am Khent when we are working, or Sarge if you're feeling nostalgic. When you aren't working, feel free to call me whatever you like, assuming those Armacham techs left enough of your brain alone for you to be able to string a couple of cuss words together." He paused and waited for a reaction.

Nothing. The clones remained standing at rigid attention.

"Your new master, Mr. Grayson believes some bullshit about how you're the best of the best. With all due respect to my employer, I disagree. I don't like any of you. It's nothing personnel, but the idea of some Lab Coat who's never been in battle creating genetically engineered soldiers as cannon fodder is disgusting. I would much rather have a team of good 'ol fallible humans that fight for a reason rather than some soulless super freaks that Armacham R & D dredged up out of their mad science labs."

Khent finally stopped pacing and turned to face them. His eyes were narrowed, but he gave a mirthless grin, "Now that the old geriatric's finished spouting off his piece, how about we get some real work done? Your first week here will be spent completely familiarizing yourselves with the layout of this estate. And by familiarize I mean you're going to know every rock, every goddamned sprig of grass like the back of your hand. If I see anyone of you wandering around lost after the first week I will personally kick that clone's ass. While most of you will be supplementing the human guards on the estate, some of you will have the unique honor of baby-sitting duty. And by unique honor I mean you will have drawn the proverbial short straw and landed in a crapper."

"Paul, have you heard a word I said?"

Paul Grayson paused and turned towards his wife, Bluetooth still implanted in his ear, "I'm sorry, Phil, I'll call you back later." He disconnected the call and looked up, "What?"

His wife was an elegant woman. Even in her early forties, she still possessed her porcelain skin, raven locks, and ice blue eyes. Now she was drawn up, back straight, regal as a queen.

And she was giving him that look.

It was perhaps a good thing that Mr. and Mrs. Grayson rarely saw each other during the day, perhaps one of the only reasons why the two were still married. Well that and the children that again, Mr. Grayson rarely saw.

"I was trying to discuss your new…things that you've brought into my house."

Her house, last time he checked, it was his name on the bills. "I wasn't aware there was anything to discuss." He said, loosening his tie.

"Paul, I can understand the security cameras and the wall, I never said a word when you allowed Khent to bring in some men as guards, I never said a word when you even let them start carrying guns around, but this?"

Her voice was raising, the queen had found a fault in her subject. It would be easier to ignore if not for the fact that her voice only got like that when she was concerned about her children. While her marital relationship with Paul was cool at best, Mrs. Grayson poured every ounce of love and affection she had on her kids. Unfortunately, she also acted more and more like a mother bear with cubs.

A rabid mother bear.

"There's nothing to discuss" He stated, placing his briefcase on the ground, "I'm simply adding more guards to the payroll."

"Paul, these aren't guards, they're…they're killing machines!"

"And what do you think the human guards do with those guns they carry, Julia? Besides, four guards just aren't enough to cover the whole estate."

"Then hire more guards, normal guards. Not some super-soldiers!"

"I don't see the difference." He folded his hands and counted to ten. Don't lose control Paul.

"The difference, Paul," she said very, very quietly, "Is that I won't let those…things anywhere near my children."

"But you'll let a mongrel like Rawlings near them?" He shot back.

She froze, face pale. "That's not fair Paul."

She was right, that wasn't fair, but damnit, he was tired of having his decisions second-guessed, so he dug the barb in deeper.

"You're lucky Elisa didn't have to go through therapy for that!" He finished with the tie and slapped it down on the bed.

"Khent's talked to me, he's said they'll dig deeper in the background checks next time, be more careful-"

"There won't be a next time, Julia." He answered, "Those things as you call them, are highly trained, one-hundred percent obedient, Replica soldiers. If I tell them not to touch a hair on the children, they won't lift a goddamned finger."

"They're not human, Paul! They don't know right from wrong any more than a machine does! What's to stop someone from ordering them to hurt the children?"

"Those machines will take orders only from me and those I say they will take their orders from."

Julia looked at him, and for once there was pity in her eyes, "I really hope you're right about that, Paul, or God help us."

Then she turned and left in a swirl of designer skirts, going off to check on the kids again, no doubt.

Mr. Grayson sighed and rubbed his temple-women, always overreacting-sometimes he didn't know his wife at all. Couldn't she see they'd be safer with those "Things" than anyone else? Besides, he was in control, he was their master.

There was no doubt about that.

A couple hours later, Alpha 1 stood at attention in a small hallway on the upper floor of an extensive mansion, the Grayson Estate as Mr. Grayson called it proudly. He had, to use Khent's term, "drawn the short straw." He'd been selected for bodyguard duty a task Khent seemed to think was undesirable.

Alpha 1 had no opinion on that subject.

Well, perhaps that wasn't so true. He did feel concern that his skills might not be put to their best use. Being assigned as a bodyguard in a relatively quiet area of the world was not the same as being part of a military commando team conducting high risk missions against impossible odds.

But he was being ungrateful. Alpha 1's master had given him and his men a task, Alpha 1's feelings were irrevalent on that matter. He would carry out whatever task was given to him as long as he was ordered to, no matter how boring it was. After all, it was what he had been born to do.

The door at the end of the hall opened and Khent appeared leading a small female by the hand. Alpha 1 analyzed her automatically. Small, juvenile, perhaps ten years old. Dark black hair and light blue eyes, wearing upper class clothing of a dark shirt and jeans She clutched Khent's hand tightly and her gaze seemed unfocused, but other than that, she seemed normal.

Khent led her to Alpha 1 and stopped. "Alright Test-Tube Man, meet your charge, Elisa, this is Alpha 1."

The girl slowly lifted her head and Alpha 1 twitched at the sensation of some sort of…presence brushing against his mind, it was almost like a…voice.

Will he be nicer than the other one?

The girl, was she a...

"Hi Al," the little girl said shyly.

A/N: It's been a while since I've updated any of my stories. To be honest, story updates will probably be pretty sporadic for a while. I'm not too sure about this chapter but I wanted to lay the ground-works for the Grayson family, the next chapter should have a bit of action in it. Well, until next time.