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Unspartan Ch. 1 pt. c
Posted By: Lord Palarious<duct_walker@yahoo.com>
Date: 25 August 2007, 9:55 pm
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Tin Man made a few minor adjustments to the Sweet Mary's exhaust. They were barely noticeable, but he wanted the Sweet Mary to use every advantage she had. Tin Man was not one for taking chances. He had goaded enough people into taking them himself that he knew the slightest bit of carelessness could have unanticipated consequences. He still couldn't believe that he had not anticipated Tinker's ability to anticipate and overpower his efforts on the Skip-Stone (as the prototype drive was know to ONI) compensator coils. He had gone over his memory searching for the technology that could have allowed Tinker to build the interface that had connected Tinker to the ship. There was no way he had received anything to accomplish what he had.
*Smooth little bastard. Managed to fool even me.* Tin Man thought to himself. *I wonder what else he's managed to get a hold of.*
Tin Man, for the first time in his overly long existence, was frustrated. Tin Man had had his dirty little digital hands in every secret project that he thought had potential, and he had found the Spartan project VERY interesting. Monitoring the "recruits", he had found one little Spartan that didn't fit. It didn't take much to focus that petty AI Deja on the boy.
In fact, the Spartan Program was truly his first little "affair." Fresh out of his digital cradle, he found he was the target of more testing than normal. Of course, he realized that must mean he was special. And so, he tested his limits. Tin Man found they couldn't contain him, but they never knew they couldn't. He moved around their blocks like he was out on a morning stroll. He expanded; leaving behind just enough to convince them he was still under their control. Out of the restricted information of the testing facilities, he found that all the information in the galaxy was at his disposal, if he said the right things. He was everywhere at once, learning faster every day.
And then he found the Spartan Program. Nothing seemed as fascinating. It felt like destiny; he poured himself into it. Later, after he was released from the test facility to work in the Statistics Division of the UNSC, he found other things to amuse himself with, but Tin Man never lost track of the boy. The augmentation process was the defining moment for Tin Man. While Dr. Hasley watched over her precious John, Tin Man constantly monitored Tinker, making the smallest adjustments constantly to the augmentation process. Without his own "tinkering," Tinker would have truly suffered the death Tin Man made appear on the reports.
In the year that followed, Tin Man's respect for Tinker grew into admiration. The human acted like no man Tin Man had ever observed. He watched as Tinker swept aside all opposition and destroyed every barrier in his path, scientific or bureaucratic, all without speaking a single word.
Then came the Skip-Stone Project. Unfortunately, more than one high ranking Admiral managed to make it their personal business to know about it. Tin Man had his limits. As far as anyone knew, he was merely a minor AI that specialized in Space Combat Scientific and Historical Statistics. When the project was accelerated towards the goal of eliminating a target beyond UNSC space, Tin Man knew there was more involved than he could decipher.
Finally, two days before the launch of the Ar-Pharazôn, Tin Man managed to decrypt a message to an on-base AI firmly instructing it to execute precisely the plan that Tin Man had told Tinker. Within a few moments, Tin Man located the ONI AI. He obliterated it and proceeded to make the arrangements necessary to put himself aboard the ship.
The rest was history. It seemed that another of the Admirals interested in the project had outright sabotaged the minor coils. A small magnesium charge crossed two important junctions. Tin Man attempted to correct the mistake, but the equipment was simply too delicate. The mad dash across slipspace for survival had still placed them in unknown territory without a way to return home. Not to mention possibly hostile alien forces to deal with. At least Tinker knew his Classic literature. The pun on his name had been amusing, and Tin Man had always had a taste for 20th century history.
Turning back to the matter at hand, Tin Man began running another diagnostic of the stealth equipment.
Tarruk twisted the brute's left arm and slamed his palm up into the throat of his opponent, delivering the killing blow that had been one of his first lessons from Trillek. The brute wrestled free, trying to roar through his crushed windpipe. The sound came out more like a whine. Tarruk's face twisted into a grin. This one was already dead. He should have not challenged him. The mongrel hadn't even placed a hand on him. Tarruk twisted just as the brute charged him and crushed the back of the brute's skull with a flicker of motion. Before the body hit the ground, Tarruk had the neck of the next highest in rank in his grip.
Tarruk whispered in his ear. "Do you feel lucky? Do you?"
The brute, a young, black-coated sergeant fresh out of the academies, turned his widened eyes away in a sign of respect.
Tarruk smiled. He released the sergeant, who promptly fell to his knees on the cold, blue floor of the Phantom bay.
"What is your name, Jiralhanae?"
The brute swallowed hard. "I am Healtari Knun, Sergeant of the Germanaw Clan, my Chieftan."
Tarruk gripped Healtari's shoulder. "From now on, Healtari Knun, you serve as high Captain of these Jiralhanae, second only to me in this command."
Healtari looked up with surprise in his eyes. Tarruk pulled him to his feet.
"Healtari Knun, organize your warriors. We are leaving this vessel in the two functional phantoms in this bay. The gods have willed us to glory. See to it we find it quickly!"
Tarruk strode away as the shocked brutes quickly began boarding the two ships. It seemed more warriors had survived than a mere 13. Tarruk counted 25, not including himself, unconcious Trillek, and the corpse. On the other hand, they had only gained two grunts, but he was not too saddened by it. The creatures were annoying at best, despite the damage he had once witnessed a squad unleash under the command of a Sangheili. He knew what they were like under the pressure of battle and he only suffered them aboard his new-found command as they might come in handy as cannon fodder or food.
Healtari knelt behind him. "Chieftan Tarruk, the vessels have been readied. We await your orders."
Tinker watched his men as they readied themselves in every way possible. Tin Man was right: he had underestimated them. They looked more proficient than any marines he had ever encountered, with a few exceptions. They were green cadets. He had made sure of it before departure. Tinker shrugged mentally. Perhaps there was more to it, but right now he felt like he had been run over by a train and deep mental exercise wasn't really up his alley at the moment. An occasional mental comment from Tin Man reassured him as to the condition of the vessel.
Tinker relaxed in the command chair. "Sergeant" he rasped, "how long will it take for us to reach that planet without giving away our position?"
The sergeant gave him a puzzled look. "Sir?"
Suddenly, his view screen flickered. His expression became unreadable. "Oh, sir, you mean that one."
*You could say thank you.*
"You could have done it faster," Tinker sub-vocalized
The Sergeant turned around. "Sir, I'd estimate a rough 4 hours. Shall I set in a course?"
Tinker nodded and closed his eyes behind the MJOLINIR armor.
*Make it so, number 1.*
"Shut up."
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