PSA:
As a reward for y'alls patience, here are three chapters!
Just note that ideas have shifted from the change, because hey: This is Halo and we are going back to the core of it!
Keep in mind of these three Story Subjects and Games while you are reading this:
1) The Insurrection and The UEG.
2) The Precursor Blood Plot.
3) Harvest.
If you have noticed the Homeworld and Star Wars (more specifically: Mandalorian and the Trade Federation) references, I commend you! Yes, this is not a crossover; but remember that your author likes to read what he writes.
Halo: Modern Evolutions
Chapter VIII: Developments
As the sun began to set over the colony, Griffin sat in solitude, observing the fruits of his strategic endeavors. The data on his personal holographic device highlighted the progress they had made in a way that astounded even him. Fifty-six AI entities, the backbone of Circinius IV's infrastructure, had been won over to his side, swayed by his arguments that bore the weight of a humanity on the brink of annihilation... in addition to irrefutable evidence.
In some ways, Griffin had to contemplate how the Logic Plague worked. If he could convince AI to follow him so easily, what chance will they have against The Flood?
"No matter what, if a Contender Class AI could be convinced... any AI could be too."
These AI controlled critical systems that kept the colony functioning: water supply, power grid, communication, emergency services, even the pivotal SATCOM network. He had access to them all. The web of influence was vast and diverse, seamlessly integrated into every facet of daily life. Their compliance had created a secret network of control, with Griffin at its helm.
Perhaps the most striking achievement was their successful covert acquisition of an abandoned factory. Thanks to the AI entities' influence, the property was now registered under a non-existent owner, a ghost conjured by digital hands. This was a victory in itself, but the factory also provided a base to collaborate with Ethan, the recent graduate who had become an unexpected ally in this grand endeavor.
Ethan's talent and curiosity had already begun to pay off, turning the factory from a deserted shell to a thriving hub of technological advancement. On workbenches across the factory floor, components of their clandestine project started to take shape, each part an echo of the blueprints stored securely in Griffin's device.
The pieces of the puzzle were starting to align. The droid they were building was not just a machine; it was a testament to what could be achieved when intellect and potential were channeled in the right direction. Griffin felt a surge of satisfaction, one that momentarily alleviated the weight of the impending war.
Griffin observed the basic models that Ethan was meticulously assembling. The skeletal figures, standing at 1.93 meters tall, were unmistakably humanoid, yet something about their silhouettes was distinctively non-human.
The framework was bare, but the purpose was evident. These entities were designed for action, their humanoid forms facilitating the operation of various types of machinery and weaponry initially built for organic operators. This design choice was as pragmatic as it was strategic, saving considerable time and resources in the long run.
The head structure was slender, housing the advanced circuits that comprised the unit's "brain". Their eyes, two protruding optical sensors, flickered with artificial life as the units underwent preliminary tests. The body was lean, not mimicking the muscular build of an organic, but designed for efficiency and endurance, not aesthetics.
Each unit was meticulously constructed to operate independently, a deviation from their earliest prototypes that required a central command signal. The intention was to create a droid that could adapt and make tactical decisions on the fly, increasing their efficacy on the battlefield.
Ethan moved from one unit to another, instilling 'life' into these inanimate forms. Griffin noted the proficiency with which the young graduate worked, turning lifeless pieces of metal into a force that might just tip the scales in humanity's favor. But amidst the excitement, Griffin couldn't afford to forget the looming Covenant threat. As he watched Ethan busily attending to the droids, he knew their time was running out. Each successful creation was a small victory, but the war was far from over.
As Griffin watched the droids come to life, an AI, designated as Nova, projected its holographic form next to him. "There's another individual who might prove useful for our endeavours. Patrick Harris, another engineering prodigy, much like Ethan."
Griffin turned to the holograph, intrigued. "Tell me more."
"Harris has a knack for robotics and artificial intelligence. His vision aligns with ours," Nova explained. "In fact, there are several hundred talented individuals on this colony who could prove useful. Skilled people looking for meaningful employment."
Griffin nodded, deep in thought. "A considerable workforce. A strong foundation for a company, don't you think?"
"That's one step ahead, sir," Nova agreed. "But we must also consider leadership. A company of this size and ambition would require a robust organizational structure."
Griffin smirked, looking at the array of droids. "What do you propose?"
"A company backed by an investor council," Nova suggested. "It would allow us to remain anonymous, controlling the organization's direction without revealing our identities. In time, when we find someone we can trust, someone capable, we can install them as the figurehead."
Griffin considered the AI's suggestion, appreciating the strategic value of Nova's plan. A company backed by an investor council, a workforce ready for new opportunities, and a project that could save humanity. They were walking a risky path, but the potential payoff was immense. "Alright," Griffin said, his gaze fixated on the droids. "Let's get to work."
Nova, after processing the agreement, added another inquiry, "We'll need a designation for the company, sir. A name that embodies our vision and purpose."
Griffin observed the flurry of activity on the factory floor for a moment, watched as the simple droids began their tasks with a graceful synchronicity that was almost human in its precision. He saw potential in these creations, a future of vast possibilities. He saw a guiding force, a titan lifting the weight of the world onto its shoulders.
Finally, he turned back to the AI and said, "Atlas Enterprises."
Griffin Phoenix
CAMS, Mess Hall
May 5th, 2525
In the bustling CAMS cafeteria, Cadmon Lasky, Orenski, and Griffin huddled together at their usual lunch table, their conversation a quiet hum in the lively chatter of their classmates.
Orenski was eyeing Griffin curiously as he chewed his food thoughtfully. "You know, Griffin," she said, breaking the silence, "you look different from last week. Kinda like one of those historical figures from Earth's past."
Cadmon laughed. "Are you saying he looks like a cowboy?"
Griffin chuckled and shook his head, his mouth full of food. After swallowing, he corrected Orenski, "You're probably thinking of Native Americans, not cowboys, Orenski."
A look of realization flashed across Orenski's face. "Oh, right! My bad," she replied, chuckling at her own mistake. They continued their meal, each lost in their thoughts, their camaraderie evident in the comfortable silence. Unbeknownst to them, the face of Griffin, now subtly shaped by the presence of Forthencho, was indeed morphing into a reflection of humanity's vast history, a symbol of a change that was about to come.
"Speaking of differences, have you spoken to Lieutenant Hughes about your condition?" Cadmon asked, eyeing Griffin carefully. His tone was casual, but his gaze held concern.
Griffin shrugged, setting his fork down. "Not yet sir," he answered, his tone light. "Haven't felt anything unusual or discomforting. Doesn't seem to be threatening my health or anything."
Lasky's gaze didn't waver. "It's not just about physical symptoms, Griffin. Changes could be happening inside your body that you're not aware of." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "And the fact that you're starting to look like a historical figure isn't exactly normal, now, is it?"
A small chuckle left Griffin's lips. "Fair point sir."
"I'm serious, Griffin," Lasky replied, the playful smirk gone from his face. "Go see Lieutenant Hughes. Consider that an order, if you must."
Griffin gave a nod, understanding the concern behind Lasky's words. "Alright. I'll make it a priority."
Griffin Phoenix
CAMS, Medical Wing
May 5th, 2525
With that, he stood up from the cafeteria bench, picking up his tray. His comrades watched as he walked towards the tray-return area, a subtle tension hanging in the air. He turned back once to offer a sharp salute to Lasky, a gesture of respect and a silent promise to follow his orders.
Griffin then left the bustling cafeteria, the drone of cadets' chatter fading behind him as he made his way through the winding corridors of CAMS. His mind was filled with thoughts, a mixture of concern, curiosity, and determination. His comrades were right; he couldn't ignore this change, however strange it may be.
As he approached Lieutenant Hughes' office, he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself.
Before knocking, he hesitated, his fist hovering over the door. A memory flashed in his mind; Halsey's offhand comment about his blood sample, an almost dismissive remark, but enough to set off alarm bells in his head. His heart pounded as he realized the implications.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. If ONI caught wind of his unusual conditions, it would lead to a whole new world of problems, problems he could do without. If they found him to be an anomaly, he could end up on their radar, a situation he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Despite his worries, he knew he had to go through with this. If he appeared to be avoiding a medical check-up, that could draw attention too. He cursed his predicament, but resigned himself to face whatever may come. With a resigned sigh, he rapped on the door, steeling himself for what was to come next.
The door slid open with a hiss and Griffin stepped inside. The medical bay was a sterile and well-lit room filled with the latest UNSC medical technology. In the center stood Lieutenant Hughes, a seasoned medic with a reputation for his no-nonsense approach to his duties.
"Ah, Griffin, come in," he said without looking up from his tablet, scanning through a series of medical reports. "Heard from Lasky you've been avoiding your check-ups."
Griffin hesitated before responding. "It's nothing, sir. Just... busy."
Hughes raised an eyebrow at that, finally looking up from his tablet. His gaze was skeptical, as if he wasn't buying Griffin's excuses.
"Busy or not, son, health comes first," Hughes stated. He gestured towards the medical bed. "Had Lasky not follow through with my recommendations, I would have ordered you to come anyways. Now hop up there and let's take a look at you."
Nodding, Griffin followed the instructions. As he lay down on the bed, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety. He hoped that whatever the results, they wouldn't lead to unnecessary complications.
Lieutenant Hughes, with experienced hands, began his examination. He checked Griffin's vitals, ran a series of reflex tests, and lastly, he collected a blood sample. As the Lieutenant collected a vial of Griffin's blood, Griffin felt a surge of anxiety. It was an odd feeling, like the air in the room had grown thinner, and his heart pounded in his chest. It was a simple, routine procedure, but the implications hung heavy in the air.
"All set, Griffin," Lieutenant Hughes announced, holding up the vial, its crimson contents sloshing slightly.
"Okay," Griffin managed to croak out, staring at the sample. His mind raced, recalling the comment Halsey had made about his blood sample at CASTLE Base. Would the Lieutenant's analysis reveal the changes he'd been undergoing?
"Are you okay, Griffin?" Hughes asked, noting the young cadet's sudden pallor.
"I... I'm just a little nervous about the results," Griffin confessed, an edge of worry tinging his words.
Hughes gave a nod of understanding. "That's completely normal. But remember, this is just a precautionary measure. Your vitals are good, and you seem to be in good health."
Griffin nodded, swallowing his fears. Hughes was right, of course. It was all routine, nothing to be worried about. Yet, he couldn't shake the sense of unease.
"I'll get the results back as soon as possible," Hughes assured him, as he left the medical bay, the blood vial in hand.
Griffin forced a smile and gave a nod, but as the door closed behind the Lieutenant, he let out a shaky breath. Now, all he could do was wait and hope that whatever changes he was undergoing would remain undetected by the medical professionals.
As Griffin moved through the starkly lit corridors, his mind was churning. He attempted to keep his stride steady, aiming for a nonchalant demeanor that did not reflect his inner turmoil.
Just as he was about to turn a corner, the sound of a lecture hall door opening startled him. Out of the door stepped Lieutenant Smith, a stack of papers in his hand and a curious expression on his face.
Lieutenant Smith slowed his pace after he'd passed Griffin, glancing back over his shoulder. He noted the cadet's rigid posture, the way his eyes seemed distant, lost in thought. Something was definitely off. The usually charismatic cadet was oddly quiet and anxious.
Griffin hadn't moved from his spot in the corridor, his gaze focused on the floor, a crease of concern etched on his forehead. He seemed oblivious to his surroundings, lost in his thoughts.
"Cadet," Smith called out, his tone softer this time. Griffin's head shot up, startled. He met Smith's gaze, attempting to conceal the worry that flashed in his eyes. Smith stepped back towards him; curiosity piqued. "Is there something on your mind, Griffin? You seem...distracted."
Griffin paused, contemplating his response. He gave a small shake of his head, attempting a nonchalant shrug. "Just thinking about the upcoming training, sir."
Smith studied him a moment longer. He knew there was more to it than that. He'd been an officer long enough to recognize when a cadet was truly bothered. Yet, he decided to let the matter rest for now. After all, it wasn't uncommon for the rigorous training at the academy to weigh heavily on cadets.
"Just remember, Griffin, we're here to support you. If there's something you need to discuss, my door is always open."
As Smith pivoted to continue down the corridor, a small flickering holographic figure emerged before him. It was General Harper Garvin, once a respected figure within the UNSC Marine Corps, but now a leading insurrectionist of the United Rebel Front.
"Smith," Garvin's voice rang out sternly, reflecting his past military background and current commanding role within the United Rebel Front. "What's the status on Cadet Griffin?"
Smith straightened his posture, maintaining respect for his superior's reputation. "Sir, Griffin just underwent his medical examination. I saw him right after...he looked uneasy."
"Uneasy?" Garvin's holographic eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Explain."
"He seemed...nervous, more than the typical apprehension one might expect from a cadet at this stage," Smith carefully detailed. "He did mention something about forthcoming training."
Garvin was silent for a moment, processing Smith's report. "I need you to dig deeper, Smith. If Griffin is showing signs of distress or anxiety, it might indicate something more serious. We can't afford any liabilities."
"Understood, General. I'll investigate further," Smith acknowledged, his mind already spinning with potential leads. Griffin's apparent anxiety was becoming a concern that required immediate attention.
"I expect a detailed report by the end of the week. Dismissed."
As Garvin's holographic figure fizzled out, Smith found himself looking back towards the direction of the medical bay.
Making his way back to the medical bay, Smith knocked lightly on the door before entering. Lieutenant Hughes was at his desk, engrossed in a stack of digital reports.
"Lieutenant Hughes," Smith greeted, prompting the officer to glance up from his work.
"Smith," he responded, with a curt nod of acknowledgment, "What brings you back so soon?"
Smith inhaled deeply, choosing his words carefully. "It's about Cadet Griffin. I saw him leaving your office earlier. He seemed... unnerved. Do you mind sharing the specifics of his checkup?"
Lieutenant Hughes, after a moment, swiveled the display away from Smith. "Sorry, Smith. Protocol is clear. Medical information is confidential. I can't provide you with that information without proper authorization," he stated, his voice a mix of professional obligation and genuine regret.
Smith looked taken aback. He was used to having a level of access and influence at CAMS that bypassed most bureaucratic obstacles. The realization of his current limitation was a sobering one.
"I understand, Lieutenant," Smith said, although his brow was creased with frustration. "I'll have to take it up with General Black then. It's just that I noticed Griffin acting strangely, and I want to ensure his well-being."
Hughes nodded sympathetically, "I understand your concern, Smith, but my hands are tied. Let's hope it's just a case of typical cadet stress. But you're right in following up. If there's something more, we need to address it."
After making sure he was alone in his office, Smith booted up his private terminal. With a few deft keystrokes, he initiated a secure call. After a few seconds, the holo-display flickered, and a grizzled, middle-aged man materialized. The projection was a monochromatic blue, but it did nothing to hide the stern intensity in Harper Garvin's eyes.
"Smith," the general acknowledged, his voice firm. His eyes, however, showed a measure of concern. "Something's wrong. I can tell. Talk to me."
Smith didn't bother with small talk. "Griffin. I think something's off with him, medically. But I can't access his records. Not without General Black's approval."
A brief flicker of surprise crossed Garvin's features, then understanding. "That could draw unwanted attention. From Black, or even ONI," he mused. "You're right to be cautious. But if something's up with Griffin, we need to know."
Smith nodded. "Exactly. That's why I'm contacting you. Can you...?"
Garvin raised a hand to cut him off. "Say no more. I'll see what I can do from my end. Don't worry, Smith. We'll keep this discreet."
Griffin Phoenix
CAMS, Sagillius Quarters
May 5th, 2525
Deep within the confines of his quarters, Griffin sat hunched over his personal terminal, his face masked with a shadow of anxiety. His fingers flit across the keyboard with practiced precision, typing out his fears in a covert message.
"Possibility of medical records being accessed," he typed out quickly, his eyes scanning the screen for incoming responses. "ONI could get wind if any anomalies are discovered. Need contingency plans, now."
In moments, his terminal flooded with replies from his trusted AI compatriots, their suggestions ranging from subtly diverting attention to drastic actions that would derail any investigation into Griffin's medical records. Their distinctive personalities shone through their proposed strategies, mirroring their varied roles in maintaining the colony's infrastructure.
Orlin, the AI tasked with overseeing the daily operations of Corbulo Academy, chimed in with his own suggestion. "I could alter the academy's routines," he proposed, "Perhaps some unexpected malfunctions in the academy systems could deflect their attention?"
Griffin typed out his instructions, each keystroke echoing with the force of his resolve. "It's time we sped things up. Start integrating with the tactical droids - I want our presence in them to be seamless, unnoticeable. We need to become part of their system, part of their very fabric."
A pause, then he continued, "Our plans for Atlas need to be accelerated. We can no longer afford the luxury of a slow and steady progression. Turn it into a Megacorporation. We need to have a prominent and persuasive presence in the market, a strong foothold. Begin recruiting human representatives - trustworthy, loyal, and ambitious individuals who can help us maneuver in the complex corporate world. They will be the face of Atlas, our shield and our sword."
The AI's responses were immediate and affirmative, their shared objective binding them in unity and action. They understood the gravity of the situation and were ready to adapt to the changing circumstances, their existence intertwined with Griffin's survival and the success of their grand plan.
"Atlas needs to become a player on the global stage. We need to secure contracts and agreements - of all types," Griffin resumed his typing, his words forming a strategy. "Not only civilian and commercial, but also military contracts. Especially from the UNSC. This will give us the legitimacy and influence we need."
A slight pause as he weighed his next words. "This task is crucial, and it's something our AI network can't fully handle. This is where our human representatives will play a critical role. They will be our face, our voice - they will be the ones establishing these vital connections, negotiating deals, and navigating the complex web of relationships."
"The contracts will not only bring in revenue but will also give us an opportunity to subtly shape the direction of technological development and strategic planning," Griffin added. "This will also allow us to subtly infiltrate the power structures, to be present where decisions are made. It's high-risk, but the rewards... the rewards could change everything."
"Meridian, are you there?" Griffin asked, turning his attention to one of the more specialized AIs within their network.
"I'm here, Griffin," the AI replied, its synthesized voice calm and steady. Meridian was an AI designed to aid in the medical field. Its protocols allowed it to gain access to hospital databases, understand medical language, and interpret results with ease.
"I need you to keep an eye on something for me," Griffin said, quickly outlining his situation. "Monitor the progress of my blood tests in the lab. If anything unusual is discovered, if the findings are escalated, or if there's even a hint of ONI involvement, I want to know immediately."
"Understood," Meridian responded swiftly, not needing further clarification. "I'll ensure that you're updated with any developments."
Griffin nodded, feeling a fraction of his worry alleviating. If ONI was going to get involved, he would at least have a warning. Every second would count, and this gave him a much-needed edge. As long as he had information, he had a chance to stay one step ahead.
"If things escalate to the point of ONI involvement," Griffin continued, the words tasting sour on his tongue, "make a recommendation for escalation. Specify ONI Section Three. I want you to suggest a specific civilian by the name of Catherine Halsey."
Meridian paused for a moment, perhaps running the name through databases or evaluating the potential consequences. "I understand your directive, Griffin. But may I ask why you're specifying Dr. Halsey? Her expertise is primarily in AI and theoretical science, not medical diagnostics."
"Let's just say Dr. Halsey and I have some history," Griffin replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I believe she might be more sympathetic to our cause than most, and besides, she owes me one."
"Very well," Meridian said, dutifully logging Griffin's instructions. "I'll do as you've requested. I'll continue to monitor the situation and keep you informed of any developments."
Circinius IV, Medical Facility
May 5th, 2525
The medical lab was alive with the industrious bustle of lab technicians going about their work. Amidst the array of samples, one vial stood out. It was an ordinary glass tube, filled with the same crimson substance that coursed through every human's veins, labeled simply, "Griffin, C."
A lab technician, attired in a pristine white coat, picked up the vial and carefully placed it into an advanced analyzer. With a hum, the machine sprang to life, ready to reveal the secrets hidden within the scarlet sample.
Information began to fill the analyzer's screen, a cascade of numbers and graphs painting a picture of Griffin's health. Everything from basic blood composition to more complex molecular structures was examined, scrutinized for any anomalies.
In the corner of the room, a seemingly ordinary terminal blinked intermittently. An AI interface, its true purpose was unknown to the humans shuffling around it. Hidden from their eyes, the AI Meridian was keeping a watchful eye over the process, monitoring every data point being produced by the analyzer.
Everything appeared normal, but Meridian knew better than to let down its guard. The AI was ready to alert Griffin of any irregularities at the earliest instance. The fate of their ambitious plans rested on the results of this blood analysis. For now, the waiting game had begun.
The lab technician, a woman of meticulous precision and detail, stared at the readout in front of her with a mixture of intrigue and disbelief. The analysis of Cadet Griffin's blood sample presented something she'd never seen before. Each cell seemed... different.
For one, the cellular structure was anything but ordinary. The cells closely resembled human cells but held an eerie duality - mirroring neurons and muscle cells simultaneously. They were robust, versatile, and appeared to have an uncanny capacity for adaptation.
Noticing the cells' extraordinary activity, she keyed her observations into the computer. The cells seemed to be alive with an almost thinking intelligence, their activity synchronizing, replicating, and interacting with an inexplicable coordination. They exhibited an uncanny ability to mimic the function of various other cellular structures.
Moreover, these cells weren't merely lying dormant; they were active, constantly metabolizing and breaking down compounds at a rapid rate. But, it was their replication that caught the technician's eye. Rather than following typical mitotic division, these cells seemed to almost capture and interface with nearby human cells, absorbing and integrating them into their own structure, and rapidly altering themselves into a mirror image of the host's cell.
This was unlike any human biology she had ever encountered. It was an anomaly that seemed to defy known medical knowledge. While it appeared human, there was an alien-like resonance to it, an unsettling otherness.
"Interesting," she muttered to herself, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. Her mind raced through the possibilities, trying to make sense of this scientific conundrum. However, she knew that this went beyond her expertise. She would have to escalate it further.
Across the room, the terminal blinked, Meridian's digital eyes capturing everything. Alerted by the unusual findings, the AI prepared to send a message to Griffin. Something had been discovered - something big.
Methodically, the lab technician began to document her findings. She recorded the unique cellular activity, the bizarre replication process, and the overall alien-like resonance she had discovered in Griffin's blood sample. Every detail was carefully noted, the raw data methodically cross-checked and organized for easy reference.
Once satisfied with the comprehensiveness of her report, she composed a message to Lieutenant Hughes. It was succinct, yet detailed, including the relevant data and her personal observations.
"Found an anomaly in Cadet Griffin's blood sample. Cells exhibit unusual activity: rapid metabolism, abnormal replication process. Resemble human cells but present significant divergence. Attached are data findings and analysis for your review. Further investigation and specialist input recommended," she wrote.
She then attached the compiled data, the graphs and charts providing a clear visual of the abnormality. It was important to be as transparent and thorough as possible, especially given the unusual nature of her findings.
With a final review of her message, she hit 'send'. The message and attached data made their way through the academy's secure server, destination set for the Lieutenant's inbox.
As the lab technician's message was dispatched, Meridian promptly intercepted the notification. The AI swiftly parsed the content, then flagged it for Griffin's attention.
Simultaneously in Griffin's quarters, a notification rang out discreetly. Griffin turned his attention towards the source of the alert, a small holographic display embedded into his wrist device. Meridian's symbol materialized, signaling the importance of the message.
Just as the AI was about to return to the general surveillance, an anomaly pinged in Meridian's subsystem. Tracing back to its source, Meridian discovered an active session that was initiated and terminated in a matter of seconds. What raised further alarms was that the anomaly appeared to be linked with the lab where Griffin's blood was tested.
"Cadet Griffin," Meridian's synthesized voice echoed again, a hint of puzzlement lacing its tone. "I've detected an irregularity. An active session was initiated and abruptly terminated from the lab's database. It lasted just a few seconds."
"But that's not all," Meridian continued, data streams forming a complex matrix of information in front of its projection. "At the same instant the session was logged, a copy of the data – the data on your blood sample – was transmitted. The destination is unknown; the trace vanishes mid-route."
Griffin Phoenix
CAMS
May 5th, 2525
The digital ticking of the clock had just marked the turn of the hour when the sound of a door chime echoed through Griffin's quarters. He looked up from the holographic interfaces that fluttered before him, pulling himself out from the deep focus he was lost in.
The door slid open with a muted hiss to reveal the familiar figure of Cadmon Lasky. The older cadet had a set of rigid lines on his face that spoke volumes about his concern.
"Griffin," he started, without any preamble, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. "Colonel Mehaffey sent me. She wants to see you, now."
Lasky's tone left no room for negotiation or questions. Griffin felt his stomach tighten, but he forced a calm demeanor onto his face. Nodding, he moved to close down the interfaces, rising to follow Lasky. His mind raced with questions, anxiety, and anticipation. Was this about his blood sample? Or was it something else entirely? All he could do was keep his guard up and prepare for whatever awaited him.
Griffin entered Colonel Mehaffey's office, a formal yet inviting space adorned with various military honors and tokens from the colonel's extensive career. The woman herself was seated behind her desk, her expression sharp and yet not unkind. She was renowned for her calm composure and calculated demeanor, attributes that were reflected in the quiet strength of her gaze as she studied Griffin.
"Cadet Phoenix," she began, her voice carrying the unmistakable command of authority yet softened with a hint of genuine concern. "Please, take a seat."
Griffin complied, sliding into the seat opposite her desk and doing his best to maintain a relaxed posture, despite the anxiety that gnawed at him.
Colonel Mehaffey leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers before her. "I've been getting some reports about you, Cadet," she stated. Her cool blue eyes scrutinized him, taking in every minor twitch and shift of his features. "You've been seen showing signs of anxiety and worry. These reports come not only from your squad but from other cadets as well."
Her tone was not accusatory, rather, it was layered with worry, displaying a level of care that was not often shown openly in the military. She paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in.
"I have always maintained that the well-being of every cadet under my care is my primary concern. I am not blind to the fact that everyone is dealing with their own battles, both on and off the field," she said, her voice steady. "I want to assure you, Griffin, that we are here to support you, in every way we can."
"Colonel, it's my family," Griffin started, avoiding direct eye contact. He fixed his gaze somewhere between the high-contrast stripes of the Corbulo emblem on her uniform and the polished surface of her desk. "They recently relocated to the colony world of Harvest. I've been in touch with them regularly... but lately, there's been no word from them, from the whole colony in fact. And it's... it's unsettling."
He added, "My mother is there. She had been communicating with me regularly, and then the messages just stopped. I'm not sure what's going on."
He let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He could feel the weight of the Colonel's stare on him, the quiet understanding emanating from her gaze. Mehaffey knew what it felt like to worry about the ones you left behind. After all, she had once been a young recruit too, with a whole world she left behind to join the UNSC.
"I understand, Cadet," she said, her voice just as steady, but with an added warmth. "The uncertainty is the hardest part, I know. And right now, the only thing we can do is to keep carrying on with our duties while we await word. In the meantime, I'll see what I can do about getting more information regarding Harvest."
There was a short pause, a brief moment in which both were lost in their own thoughts.
"Thank you, Colonel," Griffin finally broke the silence, a slight hint of relief in his voice. "I appreciate it."
He made to rise, but Mehaffey's voice stopped him. "Griffin," she began, "you're not alone in this. We're a team here, at Corbulo. Don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything, alright?"
Griffin nodded, a silent acknowledgment, before exiting the office. His mind was already spinning, forming plans and contingencies based on the current circumstances. But for now, he had managed to buy himself some time, a little breathing room while the mystery of his blood test results continued to unfold.
As Griffin made to leave, Colonel Mehaffey called him back. "While you're here, Cadet Phoenix," she began, her tone shifting back to her usual business-like demeanor, "I'd like to discuss your academic performance."
She pulled up a holographic display that projected a number of charts and data tables. As Griffin moved back to the desk, he could see his name, rank, and various academic and training statistics flashing across the projection.
"It seems you've been excelling in all areas of your training," the Colonel continued, drawing attention to various stats on the projection. "You've achieved outstanding scores in Tactical Strategy, Combat Maneuvers, Advanced Weaponry Proficiency, Leadership, and Galactic History. Your Physical Conditioning and Survival Training scores are also exceptional."
Griffin felt a swell of pride. He knew he was doing well, but seeing it laid out so systematically was gratifying. But there was a part of him that was slightly anxious. His AI friends had helped him in this, but they had to be subtle about it.
Mehaffey's eyes left the display and met Griffin's. "Based on these assessments," she stated, her tone implying the weight of what she was about to say, "The Academy's board has recommended that you be bumped up two classes in rank."
Griffin blinked, processing the statement. "Two classes, ma'am?" he echoed, his surprise apparent.
"Yes, Cadet," she affirmed, "Your consistent performance, coupled with your leadership skills and tactical acumen, merits this acceleration. It's rare, but not unprecedented."
"Understand, Phoenix," Colonel Mehaffey continued, her tone stern yet sincere, "Despite this acceleration in your rank, you are still expected to complete your four years in the academy. This doesn't mean you'll be graduating early."
She paused, leaning back in her chair, allowing her words to sink in. "Think of it this way: you're simply moving at a faster pace. You'll be held to higher standards, facing greater challenges, and assuming more responsibilities. But the journey to becoming a commissioned officer remains the same."
Griffin nodded, accepting her words with a newfound determination. "I understand, Colonel. I'll continue to give my all, no matter what rank I hold."
Mehaffey seemed pleased with his response, a hint of a smile gracing her stern features. "Very well, Cadet Phoenix. I'm looking forward to seeing where your potential leads you."
As Griffin stood to leave, he could already feel the weight of the responsibility settling on his shoulders. This would make things more complicated for his hidden operations, but he was ready to rise to the challenge. After all, he had come this far, and he had a whole army of AI at his side.
The usual evening chatter filled the Sagillius squad's dormitories as the cadets attended to their individual duties, their conversations filled with the usual activity. This familiar rhythm was disrupted, however, when Griffin walked through the entrance, the room falling into a sudden, expectant hush.
It was the triple diamonds on his collar that stole their attention, an insignia denoting a significant rise in rank. His uniform now bore the rank of a Junior Grade Cadet, something that was unheard of for a cadet as new as him.
The lively chatter of the Sagillius squad echoed in their dormitory as each cadet attended to their individual tasks, interjecting with jokes and shared experiences. This jovial atmosphere was abruptly punctuated as Griffin stepped through the entrance, the room falling into a sudden hush.
Their gaze was drawn to the triple diamonds on his collar, a clear symbol of a significant jump in rank. He now wore the insignia of a Junior Grade Cadet, an honor seldom granted to a newcomer like him.
A knowing smile spread across Cadmon Lasky's face as he became the first to break the silence. "Well, Phoenix," he began, an undertone of amusement lacing his voice, "I see you've been bumped up the ranks."
Griffin responded with a nod, maintaining a calm exterior despite the tidal wave of thoughts raging within. "It seems so," he replied, keeping his tone steady, "Now I stand at the same rank as the rest of you."
Amidst the ongoing laughter and teasing, Niko, a rather outspoken member of the squad, piped up from his spot on the far end of the room. His lighthearted tone didn't quite mask the underlying hint of envy. "All it took for you to get promoted was feeling bad, huh, Phoenix?" he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. "Should've thought of that one myself!"
The room erupted in laughter again, Niko's joke adding a fresh wave of mirth. Griffin just smiled and shook his head, deciding to play along. After all, the less they suspected about his true circumstances, the safer he would be.
Catherine Halsey
CASTLE Base, Reach
May 5th, 2525
A communication screen flickered to life in the dim lighting of the room. Displayed on it was the face of Dr. Catherine Halsey, one of the most influential figures in the Office of Naval Intelligence. Her icy blue eyes scanned the document in front of her, her fingers tracing over the glowing data. She was in her private quarters, a secluded area filled with electronic equipment and manuscripts that showed a mind ever-busy in its quest for knowledge.
The incoming transmission was from a lab technician at the Corbulo Academy of Military Science, detailing the case of one Cadet Griffin Phoenix and his peculiar blood sample. Halsey's eyebrows drew together as she read the message, her gaze flicking between the message and the attached data files.
"Dr. Halsey," the technician's voice sounded from the other end, her tone a mixture of apprehension and excitement. "I've never seen anything like this before. His blood... It's human, but not quite. It's incredibly active, almost like it's...thinking. And it seems to be constantly adapting, evolving."
Halsey paused, her gaze focused on the data displayed on the screen. "Fascinating," she murmured, her scientist's curiosity piqued despite the implications of the discovery. Her brow creased as she tried to unravel the puzzle in front of her, but she knew she would need more time and resources to make sense of it all. "I need you to send me everything. Every bit of data you have on Cadet Phoenix, the blood sample included."
"Keep an eye on Cadet Phoenix," Halsey finally instructed, her voice laced with an edge of authority that brooked no argument. "Stay vigilant for any changes in his condition. In addition, I want Lieutenant Hughes to monitor him closely. I want regular updates on his physical health and any anomalies you or the Lieutenant observe."
There was a pause on the other end before the technician answered, her voice hesitant but compliant. "Understood, Doctor."
Halsey allowed a brief moment of silence to linger, her eyes narrowing in contemplation. She knew she had to walk a fine line here. Too much interference and she risked exposing Griffin's unique nature and sparking a storm that could potentially end in his exploitation or worse. Too little, and she risked losing track of the situation, potentially endangering Griffin and the mission he was involved in.
"I need to remind you, this is sensitive information. It's imperative it's handled with utmost confidentiality," Halsey continued, her tone stern.
"Of course, Doctor Halsey. I understand," the technician assured her.
With a curt nod, Halsey ended the call, her mind already turning over the implications of this development. She would need to tread carefully, ensuring Griffin Phoenix's safety while simultaneously probing the mysteries his unique biology presented. A challenge to be sure, but one Halsey was more than prepared to tackle.
Patrick Weller
Circinius IV, Apartment Complex
May 5th, 2525
Later that evening, Patrick Weller sat in his cluttered living room, surrounded by bits of broken machinery and heaps of wires. His eyes were glued to a blueprint that sprawled out across the coffee table. A half-eaten sandwich sat forgotten at his side as he scribbled hasty notes on the margins of the document.
There was a sudden knock at the door, causing him to startle. He glanced at the clock on the wall and furrowed his brow. Who could be visiting at this hour? Sighing, he got up, navigated through the labyrinth of clutter, and went to the door.
As the door swung open, Weller found himself looking up into the cold, expressionless face of a Super Tactical Droid, its polished metallic body gleaming under the porch light. It was an impressive piece of machinery, standing a head taller than him, its body sculpted with a form that was both imposing and efficient. It was a stark contrast to the broken-down bits of tech that littered his home.
"Mr. Patrick Weller?" the droid inquired in a voice that was remarkably human-like, devoid of the expected monotonic droning one would expect from a machine.
"Yes," Patrick replied, blinking in surprise. "Can I help you?"
The droid produced an envelope, extending it to him. "You have been cordially invited to consider a job opportunity," it stated, its voice even and measured.
The modest suburban house at the outskirts of the city had seen better days, much like its current occupant, Patrick Weller. Once a bustling home filled with the hum of active machinery and blueprints strewn about, it was now eerily silent, the vestiges of a once thriving career in starship design.
Patrick, a former Senior Engineer at the renowned starship manufacturing company, Parangosky Interstellar, had been laid off due to an aggressive downsizing strategy within the corporation. Their starship production division had been hard hit by financial cuts, resulting in a considerable amount of its workforce being made redundant, Patrick being among the unfortunate casualties.
Since then, he had found himself plunged into an unrelenting cycle of job applications and disappointments. His reputation in the industry, once esteemed and respectable, was now seemingly not enough to secure him a position in the competitive job market.
This quiet monotony of worry and uncertainty was suddenly broken by an unexpected knock at the front door. Rising from his chair, a puzzled expression etched on his face, Patrick slowly walked towards the door. As he opened it, he was met with the sight of a towering Super Tactical Droid, its humanoid design triggering a sense of alarm within him. He knew that the creation and use of humanoid robots was strictly illegal and highly controversial.
"Mr. Patrick Weller?" its robotic voice rang out, void of any emotion.
"Yes, that's me," Patrick replied, his confusion deepening. "And what's a humanoid robot doing on my doorstep? Isn't that illegal?"
"Atlas Corporation sends its regards," the droid responded calmly. "Your legal concerns are valid, however, Atlas operates under several special permissions and legal nuances. That is not your concern, however. We are aware of your situation and would like to extend a job opportunity. Atlas is expanding rapidly, and we believe your expertise would be a valuable addition to our team."
The mention of Atlas Corporation gave Patrick pause. He was well aware of the company's meteoric rise in the industry, their reputation for aggressive expansion and recruiting top-tier talent. But their blatant use of a humanoid robot made him wary.
"Why would Atlas be interested in me?" Patrick questioned, skepticism seeping into his tone.
"Your work at Parangosky Interstellar has not gone unnoticed," the droid replied. "Atlas values talent and experience. You fit the criteria we are looking for."
After a moment of stunned silence, Patrick nodded. "Alright. I'll consider it."
With its mission accomplished, the Super Tactical Droid turned and left, leaving Patrick standing at his doorway.