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Received: from unknown (22.1823.87.212) by MailerX-daemon 64287
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Message-ID: 0b04201c6c881$5e64abtge42c0$6c00000amaster64874
From: Unknown
To: Unknown
Subject: Recruitment
Date: Fri, 20 Oct 2552 18:15:43 -0400
X-Priority: Epsilon
Listen Doctor, We are NOT in a position to be testing anything. In case your tomb down there has kept you oblivious, we are getting the shit kicked out of us up top. Do whatever you have to do to make them secure. Remote detonators, paralysis injectors, whatever it takes. Just get going and get those prototypes ready to fight. I will be heading your way shortly to check on your progress and I expect to see some results.
One more thing, do NOT forget to implement the Persia algorithm into the programming.
…End transmission
…File self-delete successful
Dr. Edgar Wilkes clicked the email client's close button, the screen replacing the application with the Nexus programming suite. The software's code filled the screen with a dizzying array of characters and symbols that made up the Persia algorithm. Edgar glared at it intently, trying once again to decipher it.
"Tsk tsk good doctor. You wouldn't like for me to report your curiousness to the Colonel now would you?" Jordan, the Colonel's AI plant into Edgar's work gloated, knowing he was ultimately in control of the situation.
"Don't you have some other important work to sabotage?" The AI faded with a smirk as Dr. Wilkes gently laid his glasses on the desk beside the monitor, an inverted version of the screen's contents displayed on their lenses.
He applied pressure to the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, as he often did when he was frustrated. He knew there was something sadistic about the algorithm's programming, but he hadn't had time to find it - and probably wouldn't with that stupid stool pigeon of an AI running loose.
Allowing himself time to relax, the sound of fans cooling supercomputers' processors filled Dr. Wilkes's ears. An impeccably clean glass door slid open across the room to his right, revealing a slender pepper-headed female. Dr. Christy O'Brian's hair and lab coat were cast a bright shade of red by the emergency lighting above the door.
Dr. O'Brian's beauty had captivated Edgar since they first met in Ackerson's office. Christy saw Edgar's sincerity and passion for his work as something she could relate to, and it didn't take long for a relationship to form. Both had been handpicked by Colonel Ackerson to conduct the research in order to build the Colonel's super soldiers.
Since the death of his wife, Dr. Wilkes had raised his daughter as well as he could alone. Amy's decision to join the UNSC had come as a blow to him, and after she deployed he swamped himself in his work. He focused intently on whatever work would come from HICOM or other government agencies. The doctor needed any distraction to keep from being reminded of his little girl. No longer little, Amy was now a grown woman being hurtled through space to fight an enemy that seemed unstoppable.
Dr. O'Brian on the other hand had never been married, easily allowing her work to consume her to the point of warding off potential suitors. Her hair was starting to slowly fade to gray, and her eyes held wisdom far beyond that of others her age.
While the two of them were civilians, being employed by ONI Section III caused them to be under scrutiny as to the nature of their relationship. Still, the two managed to find their rendezvous when they could, and put up a strictly professional front when anywhere near other ONI personnel.
"It seems odd, doesn't it?" Dr. O'Brian stated as she pulled a blue rolling chair behind her. "That we are down here, basically impervious to what is going on up on the surface. It's so quiet in here that my thoughts seem audible. I keep hearing bad things about casualty rates through the comm channels."
Edgar grimaced at Dr. O'Brian's words, his thoughts instantly turning to his daughter. He had tried so hard to keep her from joining the UNSC. If only her mother would have been here.. Maybe.. "Which is why our work is so important. We must complete it if we are to have any shot of stopping the Covenant invasion." A sudden chirp from the computer processing the Persia algorithm caught his attention and Dr. Wilkes put his glasses back on.
Compilation complete… Checksum BY3842T verified… Filename PERSIA.muX generated
"Don't worry about alerting the Colonel, I have already made him aware that we are about to begin." The AI was beginning to grind on both the doctors' nerves. They both ignored the fatigue-adorned hologram, however.
"Well this is it, time to start the Alpha transfers." Dr. O'Brian reached over and placed her hand on top of Dr. Wilkes's. Both gave the other a strained smile, a side effect of many hours of working in low-light conditions, and the stress of the work's importance.
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The Jackal overlooking the courtyard below jerked suddenly as a bullet exploded from its chest. The bird-like creature had not sensed the Spartan's advance, who had taken point for the small group. Amy was still reeling as images of Private Thompson's death flashed in her mind. The shaken soldier vowed not to let her guard down again, to be the cause of a fellow Marine's death.
Amy reached down and recovered the fallen Jackal's beam rifle as the rest of the team spilled out of the large concrete opening behind her. The Master Chief had already departed the overlook, and was making short work of some Jackals and Grunts unlucky enough to get in his way.
Josh kneeled down, as did Amy, focusing her sights quickly on a Jackal sniper. The creature appeared to be drawing a bead on the Spartan as Amy squeezed the trigger, releasing its energy beam at a fantastic rate. For a second Amy was not sure she had even hit the Jackal, but then felt satisfaction as it tumbled backward off of its perch.
A motion from the west caught her eye, and Amy turned to see the Scarab still plotting a course through the city, the sounds of explosions rocked the air as the machine made its advance opposite the team's position.
Josh dropped a Grunt that had managed to find its way onto the overlook. Then the scruffy blonde-haired man saw an opportunity he was hoping for. "There's an abandoned Ghost down there. Give me cover Amy."
Amy quickly began sweeping the area, taking care not to zoom in withthe Covenant rifle. The Marine was not about to cost Josh his life as well. Josh reached the sleek purple craft and then jumped in. The Ghost's engines powered to life and the craft began to levitate. An Elite began making a run for the craft as well as Josh fiddled with the controls. The beast was coming up from behind and Josh had not seen it yet.
Amy quickly zoomed in and fired a round from the beam rifle, which made the Elite's shields flare and gave it pause. The Sangheili soldier began to look around for the sniper as Amy sent another beam screaming at it, dropping its shields completely. A few of the Marines in Amy's team had seen the Elite, and began pumping it full of assault rounds.
Josh began sweeping the grounds, gunning down Elites and simply plowing over Grunts who were just too slow to get out of the way. The Master Chief appeared to have hitched a ride in a Warthog, and had taken off in the Scarab's direction. Amy ran down the overlook's path as Josh met her at the bottom.
"You ready to go kill us a Scarab?"
IF we can kill it, that is…
A wash of static came in to Amy's comm channel as she fired another round from the beam rifle, nearly decapitating a Jackal. "Eighty-second platoon, come in eighty-second. This is Private First Class Jack Buchanan with the one hundred and thirty-third. What is your position over?"
It was the voice of what Amy assumed to be a young Marine, and a very scared one. "Private, this is Corporal Amy Wilkes with the eighty-second. We are in the southeast terrace courtyard. We are about to.."
"Corporal, there is a large force coming your way. We are about half a klick south of you, and will be falling back to your position. They are quickly overrunning our lines. There are only ten of us left. The alien assholes have brought out the works Ma'am, we have four hunters and an unknown number of Elites, Jackals and Grunts we are dealing with here."
"Understood Private, do what you can to get your asses back here and we will try to have some surprises waiting for the Covie bastards."
"Roger that Ma'am, we will double-time it back to your location."
Amy instantly wished the Spartan was still with her team. She had seen hunters before, but always from afar. Fighting one, let alone four, up close did not sound like a good time.
"Everybody, gather round! We have some boys in trouble that are falling back to our location. They will not be alone however, it seems they have four hunters sticking to their rears, and God only knows what else. I want two rows of grenades planted to the outside of the entrance tunnel. Rig a trip wire at the courtyard entrance and hopefully we can take them all down before they get in here. I want you Marines to arm yourselves with a beam rifle if you can find it, and mount the south wall. See if we can't give the one thirty-third a little cover until they can get in here. Anyone with heavier weapons dig in opposite the entrance. Anything that makes it past the trip wire, kill it. Josh will be giving mobile backup with the Ghost and I will be giving you support from the center overlook. Any questions?" Amy looked at all their faces, and each one was nervous - All except Josh's. Amy surmised he was just overjoyed at getting to pilot the Ghost again.
Boys and their toys
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Dr. Wilkes surveyed the room thoughtfully as Dr. O'Brian scanned over the various screens detailing transfer activity. The Alpha transfer had begun, and soon they would see the fruits of their labor. Behind her were four rows of three tables each, one body lying upon each of their cold metal surfaces. No care was taken for humility's sake, as the bodies lay on the tables devoid of covering.
Each body had its head shaven and then surgically opened to reveal the brain. Hundreds of needle-like probes had been inserted into each head, all a picture of some morbid pincushion. Wires from the probes lead to machines beside each bed, each accompanying display showing a flurry of data being entered as details were being extracted.
This is the beginning. But how do we know the end? Will we be able to stop what we started?
Edgar's heart grew heavy as he thought of the potential consequences of the project. AI's in a sense had been a failure. Sure, they were brilliant during their cycles, but after their seventh year, they would become unstable. Certain protocols had to be enacted to ensure the AI's were deleted after that time.
But what of the lifecycle of the Harvest project? Would it be similar? If so the results could be disastrous. We need them to fight the Covenant invasion, but if they lapse into madness, who will be left to fight them?
"Are you alright?" Dr. Wilkes hadn't noticed Christy's small form approaching him, but felt comfort as she gently caressed his lower back.
"I am fine. I just wonder if what we are doing is right." Edgar took in Dr. O'Brian's gentle gesture. How he hated that they couldn't be more open with their affection for each other. This room was considered safe however, as no one but them were allowed access via Ackerson's orders.
Dr. Wilkes removed the memory chip containing the Persian algorithm from his pocket and inserted it in the main terminal's slot. The computer registered the newly inserted chip.
Initializing… Reading… Uploading Filename PERSIA.muX… Complete… Distribute?
Edgar reluctantly pressed the Enter key, and the terminal beeped a confirmation.
"Shall we go see how our children are doing?" A grin crept upon the female doctor's face as she tugged on Edgar's arm, urging him to follow.
A dimly lit hallway led the pair to a similar room, with the same array of monitors flashing data wildly across their screens. This room, however, was brighter as each table had its own adjustable light source, which fully illuminated its occupant. Covering each of the tables were the results of the Harvest project. The Dragoons.
The Dragoons humanoid forms lay motionless on their tables as the two doctors scanned the room. Probes extended and retracted from the ceiling, each taking measurements and digesting additional data on the Alpha transfer's progress.
Soon the forms lying upon the tables would be a force for the Covenant to reckon with. Dr. Wilkes hoped that his project would put fear into the Covenant much like the Spartan program did. He hoped they would save humanity.
"Edgar, its finished." Dr. Wilkes whirled around to face the main terminal screen, surprised he did not hear the obligatory beep computers are forced to make when a task is finished.
Alpha Transfer Complete… Awaken Subjects?
The words on the terminal screen brought a lump to Edgar's throat and slight nausea to Christy. This was it. All their research had come down to this moment. Soon the Dragoons would be awakened, and if anything went wrong they could be the start of a slaughter.
The door at the other end of the room parted and several armed soldiers came into the room brandishing their weapons, which annoyed Dr. Wilkes highly. "What is the meaning of this? There are specific orders from Colonel Ackerson that no one was supposed to.."
"I know what I said good doctor." The peppered hair Colonel separated himself from the rest of the guards and began to make his way over to the doctors. "You didn't think I would miss you awakening my pets did you?"
Dr. Wilkes grew angry at the terminology. After all, for all practical purposes the Dragoons would still have cognitive and emotional thoughts. They were not meant to be slaves under the Colonel's whip. "The Dragoons are ready. I have uploaded the Persia program as you requested as well. We are about to bring them online."
"Well what are you waiting for doctor? I am not getting any damned younger and the Covenant haven't started waving the white flag yet."
Dr. Wilkes gave a nod to Dr. O'Brian and she dutifully pressed the enter button. A whirlwind of activity began as and each Dragoon's POST sequence was initiated.
One by one the Dragoons' torsos brought them to a sitting position and the lowered themselves off the metal tables. Each humanoid brought with it a metallic chink as its feet connected with the metal grating that made up the floor. The Dragoon's slender but athletic forms brought awe to O'Brian's face, as she clasped both hands in a praying form against her face.
"Alright, roll call Dragoons" Ackerson's tone was one to be expected of a Colonel, authoritative and gruff. A slight humming noise was heard as each Dragoon's image was brought to life. Thousands of tiny reflectors on the armor cast a façade of each now-forgotten soldier's form around the armor, making them each look like Marines again. Each of the twelve polished black soldiers began to report back.
"Sir, Dragoon-001, Nick, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-002, Joe, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-003, Brittany, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-004, Diego, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-005, Nelson, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-006, April, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-007, Mark, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-008, Riley, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-009, Lindsey, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-010, Josh, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-011, Patrick, online and awaiting orders."
"Sir, Dragoon-012, Kiersten, online and awaiting orders."
"Alright good doctor, I want you to run a quick systems check and get them the hell up there. We have a heavy contingent of enemy troops forcing one of our teams back. It includes hunters. I want to see if these new toys can take them out. Think of it as their initiation. The hundred thirty-third is falling back to a large courtyard to arrange a counterattack, which would be a great place to insert the Dragoons."
"Sir, with all due respect, we need to run full calibration diagnostic on the suit's functions and.."
"Run all the tests you want doctor. You have ten minutes until they have to be out the door or you will be their first target, understand?"
Not giving Dr. Wilkes time to answer, Colonel Ackerson and his men turned and exited the way they had came in, leaving an eerie silence as the doctors returned their focus on the warriors now in front of them.
"What a dick." Apparently -012, Kiersten still had a mind of her own.
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