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Manufactured Destiny: Chapter 1
Posted By: MoZ<moz@failyerz.com>
Date: 13 January 2004, 11:57 PM


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1/13/04 3:12pm - Author's note:
This is my first chapter of my first attempt at a Halo fan fic. Expect a lot more action in the coming chapters. Feel free to rip me apart now.

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Manufactured Destiny: Chapter 1
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0300 Hours, August 12, 2554 (Military Calendar)
Undisclosed Location


      She screamed louder this time, sweat pouring down her face. 'I'm all alone,' she thought, the thought causing tears to mingle with the sweat. To say that she was alone wasn't truly accurate however as there were men throughout the room, monitoring her progress. It's just that no one would speak to her. No words of comfort or encouragement, just readings passed among each other in hushed and muffled tones. Her husband had not even been allowed in, a fact that served to confuse and scare her even more.

      She recognized the doctor that she had been visiting for pre-natal care. "Dr. Tomlin," she called out through the pain, but he didn't even flinch never mind respond to her. This was wrong, right down to the equipment on the tables around her. All of it had a strange quality, as if it was all the wrong colors but she couldn't really think of why.

      The pain returned again, stronger this time despite that seeming impossible after the last wave. She knew she couldn't hold on any longer but pushed with every ounce of energy left. The doctors and technicians seemed to know and were drawn towards her as the pain suddenly abated and the sound of her screams was replaced with a cry. Her baby had come into the world and a joy passed over her replacing all the fear and pain.

      Before understanding it though she was being wheeled out of the room. "Let me see my child ! Where the hell are you taking me ?! Give me my baby .... PLEASE !" But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the doors closed and she was left in an adjoining room with nothing but her shock and disbelief. She could still hear their voices, barely audible from this distance.

"It's stable ..... all results normal, more or less."

"OK, get it to C wing immediately, full security protocols, just in case."

"Shall we inform the father ?"

"No, he can wait till we're sure of the results."

"What will we name him ?"

"It nurse, it. The name doesn't concern us."

"But ..."

"Fine ! Give it a name then, but no attachments here people, let's be realistic"

"Yes sir, of course. Xavier then. Let them change it, but for now he's Xavier."

"Jesus, what year is it anyway? Screw it, begin cleanup people."

"But sir, is it really necessary, I mean ..."

"We all knew the drill, we have our orders, now make it happen."

"Yessir"

      She lay there, confused and more frightened and hysterical now then ever. When the door finally creaked open the image of the person entering was blurred through her tears. "I'm sorry," he said. A moment's calm came over her right before the bullet left the chamber. At least she was at peace now.

-----
1130 Hours, August 12, 2562
New Philadelphia, Earth


      "Latest reports in sir, still nothing," the comm officer reported, his tone showing his discomfort. No one liked giving the commander bad news ever since the incident concerning the corporal, the blueberry muffin and the plasma grenade.

      The disgusted look received in response to the news had everyone in the room on their toes and very conscious of the nearest exits. "Damnit," he sighed, "we're picking him up at midnight then. Arrange it."

      A series of relieved "Yessirs," followed as technicians began contacting the various teams necessary.

      "Hold up .... ummm ... sir, I think you need to take a look at this," the nervous corporal quickly corrected himself. The commander stalked over to the station, thoughts of damaging the corporal obvious in his expression. All that changed when the vid feed came into view though. 'This may finally be it, don't let me down now boy' he thought to himself. The scene played out before his eyes and suddenly everything fell back into place.
-----

      The orbital station basically ran itself. Private Jahanis simply was a fixture, another accessory. The fact that he breathed seemed not to matter to anyone in particular. 'We all get what we deserve' he thought. The UNSC military evidently frowned on drug use within its ranks and had busted Jahanis down to private and assigned him to this god awful duty 7 months ago. In that time nothing at all had happened, until today that is.

      As the alert sounds flared through the room he was so startled he literally fell from his chair. When he finally regained his composure his minimal training it the station's operations actually took over. He went to his tactical displays and began to focus in on the source of the disturbance. It appeared to be a false alarm at first as there was nothing on any sensors except those noting particle displacement (some science experiment for a high school probably). It wasn't until the stars where the computers placed the disturbance began to go out did he put it together. Some kind of cloaked ship, impossibly well hidden by the little he knew of such technology. Unless.

      The comm channel he opened had nothing but static. Next channel, same thing. He was running for the line of site emergency comm station when suddenly he heard a high pitch whistle. Air. He noticed the first hole in the wall as more and more appeared. He ran harder and was almost at the comm station when everything went dark. His station was dead, and if he didn't get to an EVA suit soon he would be too. It was unbelievable cold when he closed the final seal on the helmet. He was alone, with a limited supply of air, in a dead station. None of that mattered as much as one simple fact that only he knew. 'Something evil this way comes' he thought.
-----

      Trevin was drunk again. Nothing new to the hotel's management, but the new guests arriving were slightly taken aback by the stumbling 6'4" man singing children's songs. The nudity didn't help either.

      He saw four men coming towards him, annoyance more than anger evident in their approach. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Poor bastards have to take care of the drunk again' he thought to himself. The four men were actually two, Trevin was just seeing double again. None of this really surprised him as it had happened more than a couple times in the past few months. Their sudden halt and the distinct look of fear on their faces was another story though.

      The hand that spun him around was attached to a, seemingly, very nice looking woman. The men behind her on either side however didn't look very nice at all, nor did the weapons in their hands. Again, nothing really new, just another bookie trying to intimidate a man that had already been to hell. They'd fail miserably just like the others. Considering how much alcohol he'd actually had he would probably not get through this one unhurt but he was ok with that.

      It wasn't until then that he realized that the small form at the left man's leg wasn't a figment of his imagination but instead something closely resembling his son, just more bruised and bloodied. The realization hit him like an explosion and his arm shot out for the woman's throat immediately. The hand that closed on his neck from behind was unbelievably strong though as it stopped his body's forward motion and forced him to the ground. He couldn't turn to see who that hand belonged to, but his attention was soon focused elsewhere anyway as the woman in front of him lowered her mouth to his ear.

      "They think we're MP's Trev," she whispered. "They'll let us do whatever we want and not bother reporting a thing. But don't worry, when we rip your boy apart we'll keep you there, somewhere secluded so no one will see your pathetic lack of control."

      He struggled harder but she just laughed, and the pain in his neck just increased. He was powerless for what seemed like the first time in his life. His self pity, no, self loathing had finally caught up with him and now his son would pay the price as well as himself. It was too much to comprehend, happening all at once like this. He was able to just make eye contact with his son as something odd happened. The fear in his boy's eyes changed slightly. Not so much fear now, but possibly anger. That anger solidified and grew before his eyes, turned to rage, and finally to fury, and yet his body didn't tremble.
-----

"Body temp rising. Synaptic responses off the charts, sir. Heart rate ..... ummm ..... stable, sir"

"Of course, he doesn't know it but he was built for it. I want all recovery teams on alert. Have intel recording everything. Have cleaner squads get into position, we don't want anybody getting vids except us, this has to be completely contained."

"Yessir"

"Sir, we're getting something strange here. We've just lost contact with Alpha team at the rear of the building. Radar and heat signature readings are dropping out sporadically across all sectors."

"I need reports now people. What the hell is going on out there ?"
-----

      The Elite surveyed the remains of the three human warriors before him. 'Surprisingly soft' he thought. When his blade had slid through the first two cleanly with little resistance he thought it may have been a fluke. The third however confirmed the beliefs which were as much a part of him as his appendages. 'Vermin awaiting extinction at my hand', the thought causing his confidence in his success to solidify even more.

      No shots from the pitiful projectile weapons they carried had come, he was much too competent for that. The cloaking he had activated proved it's worth. He deactivated the energy sword, he would take the vermin by surprise and snuff out their heretical lives with his own hands. The prophets wished it. The abomination could not be allowed to live and the creators of this atrocity must be punished. Unfortunately that punishment would come from others but 'Ehkilemna was hopeful that his success would ensure him a place in command during the final invasion. The self serving thought immediately made him double over in pain but he recovered quickly. 'I am an instrument of the gods', the mantra immediately reducing the pain to a mere afterthought.

      He was about to enter when a strange sensation came over him. The room beyond suddenly quieted. Were they aware of his presence ? Never mind, they would all receive the same fate. He entered slowly and was about to confront his prey when the scene suddenly grew interesting. He would let this play out.
-----
To Be Continued...





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