Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Play the video for me, FILSS.”

“Of course. Beginning video playback.”

----------
“Slow down, sweetie, Daddy’s got a camera!”

“Come on, come on!”

“Heh, looks like she’s just a little too fast for you, Leonard.”

“I can keep up. I’m pretty sure she thinks the slow poke is you.”

“Don’t listen to your father, he’s just jealous of how fast you are! Now, what did you want to show us?”

“Come here, look!”

“Oh, look how beautiful those are! Aren’t they pretty, Leonard?”

“They started blooming just a few days before you got home.”

“I knew you’d be so happy to see them, cause they’re your favourite!”

“They are. Trailing arbutus, but that’s a bit of a weird name, isn’t it? So I just call them mayflowers.”

“I like that name, and I like mayflowers. They are so pretty!”

“Indeed they are, just like your mother.”

“Oh, Leonard.”

“Welcome home, Allison.”
----------

There was a period of silence.

“Heh. Mayflowers.”

“Is… something wrong, Director?”

“No, nothing’s wrong, FILSS. I just had a sudden breakthrough.”

Chapter Text

“September sixth, twenty five thirty nine. After many trial pitches, the funding for Project Mayflower was finally cleared. This would mark the beginning of a scientific breakthrough, as we have just submitted our schematics for the asset. We are very pleased to have Charon Industries supply us with all the necessary equipment and technology for this operation as well as completing some custom orders, their cooperation is greatly appreciated. Once the schematics are certified as compatible, we can begin the manufacturing process. I had personally acquired samples of various Church DNA, which some would have labelled a ‘risky decision’, but those are the ones who fail to recognize that risks are the foundation of laboratory science. Allison would have understood, and she would have been proud. This is Dr Leonard Church, signing off.``

~~~~~~~~

“September seventeenth, twenty five thirty nine. This day would mark our third attempt at submitting an applicable blueprint for the asset, as we have encountered some roadblocks in our original concept. We have discovered that generating organic tissue is a highly time and money-consuming process versus synthetic bioengineering. We have to modify the anatomy ratio if we are to continue on schedule. Charon’s CEO, Malcolm Hargrove, has already responded to the project’s requests by informing us that our technology order is nearly complete. I’m not sure how many more drawbacks we might encounter before we are supplied with the asset’s equipment, and without the asset at the ready. This is why I am delaying the Alpha project for the sake of time, which is becoming a scarce resource now. I very much hope that our fourth variation of the schematic is the one, which we are finalising right now. Wish me luck, Allison. Dr Leonard Church, signing off.”

~~~~~~~~

“December eighth, twenty five thirty nine. We have just submitted our sixth variation of the asset schematic, and looking back at what we started with, we have come a long way when it comes to the variables changed. A version of me last month would have never seen this sudden change come so soon, but I needed to realise that it was for the best. As much as I’d hate to admit that we’re behind schedule, we just received a shipment from Charon Industries containing all of the demanded equipment and technology needed for the project. I will now need to arrange for these weapons to be stored until who knows when. The board is beginning to grow impatient, and if they have to wait another month for development, they could pull our funding for the Alpha project. I have already come this far, and I will not give up. Allison wouldn’t allow me to either. This is Dr Leonard Church, signing off yet again.”

~~~~~~~~

“December tenth, twenty five thirty nine. Today is an excellent day, as well as a mark in the journey of scientific evolution. The sixth and final schematic for the Mayflower asset was passed as compatible, and we are permitted to begin manufacturing whenever we are ready. I figured as we have finally worked around the project’s original schedule, now would be the best time to begin initiation for the Alpha project. If I were to calculate this operation accordingly, then I estimate that the asset would be ready a mere week after the Alpha is delivered. But now, I need to retain my focus on what is most important- the Mayflower asset. Using the acquired DNA samples, the team has already begun the decellularization process, while I foresee neural programming. I consider this half of the operation to be the most important- definitely the most expensive half of it all. Everyone was warned of how valuable this nervous system- which I designed- is, so I personally requested a custom titanium spinal system to be welded. I will take any precautions necessary to ensure that my work functions without flaw. It will take a few weeks, at most, but the board seemed to respond appropriately when I informed them of our new development. They are willing to accept a few more months of waiting if it means the end result is an absolutely groundbreaking scientific achievement. I have much faith in this project now, and I look forward to these upcoming months as well. I just know that Allison is proud of all of this. Dr Leonard Church, signing off.”

~~~~~~~~

“February fourth, twenty five fourty. I estimate that today marks one month before the Mayflower asset is complete, and our progress so far is wonderful. The Alpha is on schedule as well, which should be arriving in two weeks. I did have to leave Project Mayflower in the attendance of my trusted Counsellor while I went for sessions in which multiple flash clones of my brain were taken. It truly is fascinating, when you discover how beautifully complex AI are. If it weren’t for my breakthrough, I would have dedicated my life to these programs. However, it still has its benefits now, as what we have discovered about AI theory can be applied to the Mayflower asset, in certain aspects. It’s the same concept with different principles- in the end, you are creating some form of intelligence. After I returned from the Alpha initiation, I saw what new progress was made on the Mayflower asset. Might I say, I was absolutely bewildered by what I saw. The skin on their face was still being fabricated, so they did not yet have eyelids. But, seeing those eyes gave this incomplete specimen a sense of life. I had designed an ocular system in which pupils are not required to allow the asset to see, but rather a series of ultra-focus lenses that absorb light ten times more efficiently than the standard human eye. On a blueprint, they appear to be multi-layered films, but to actually see them, they look like pearls on their face, so beautifully specular in the white light. They really did take away from the internal organs and skeleton, which were visible under their temporarily translucent muscular and skin system. The only other sight for sore eyes was the nervous system which I had conducted, already carefully assembled into the specimen. I could have sworn to see an electric pulse rush down their  brain stem, before it dissipated to a faint glow beneath their titanium spine. It seemed like the specimen was thinking, even though they were only considered moderately alive. It truly is all fascinating, and based on our rate of progress, it will only improve. While it is a shame that we will eventually have to hide the asset’s features within their armour, we must also appreciate that it was finely welded to be practical and powerful at Charon Industries, who we still give thanks to. Heh, I’m sure that Allison would have also admired what we were given. This is Dr Leonard Church, signing off.”

~~~~~~~~

“April seventh, twenty five forty. After months of tackling seemingly impossible feats, countless drawbacks and earning well-needed hardship, we were given what we worked for. Coming in at two hundred and sixty pounds, standing at six feet, ten inches and three-quarters, and genetically augmented to be the perfect partner for the Alpha AI unit, I present: the Hunter. As soon as we finished modulating their internal and external structure and certified the specimen as one hundred percent functional, we had them shipped to one of our new cryo pods for some final cryo-chemical tests. We have run numerous simulations while still in the manufacturing phase, it would be a disaster if we discovered that the Hunter’s systems are not compatible for the cryo-freezing process. Of course, it would have been unlikely, as I would not allow it. We have selected the best formula of sedatives, being flunitrazepam, which can cause an internal blackout in mere seconds. We had micro ports designed in the tech suit for when injection commences. Rest assured, we were delivered the newest model of cryo chambers, courtesy of Charon Industries. Our trust is in them for their technology’s peak performance. Looking back, I can barely even call the cryo-testing stage a situation, when the augmentation process comes to mind. There were no catastrophic failures, of course not, but the operation does succeed in heightening anxiety. As our team knows, the records of human augmentation, especially coinciding with ONI’s Spartan Program, do have some dates where the procedure’s finalisation led to severe casualties. I cannot count how many times I had everyone run the same tests, then double checking them again, and again, and again. While some procedures were performed during the manufacturing phase, such as the occipital capillary reversal and the carbide ceramic ossification, we were limited to fractions of the other procedures’ possibilities to ensure the asset was not harmed. We had to work around the superconducting fibrification of neural dendrites, as our test results showed a high probability of the synthetic nervous system’s override due to overhyper brain tics. Once we finally configured an alternative conduct, the operation lasted for nine hours. Even after I stated how many precautions were being taken into effect, there was one unexpected misstep. During the muscle enhancement injections, the asset’s right forearm experienced a failed cardiac volume increase. A simple miscalculation, that cost us a limb, as well as time. Because of this inconvenience, the Hunter’s launch date was delayed yet another month as we contacted Charon Industries, requesting a prosthetic to be manufactured. I must thank my Counsellor for conducting the solution to this setback. It only took a total of two hours for the titanium limb to be welded into the Hunter’s nervous system. Hargrove even surprised us with the addition of a built-in interface which moderates most of the armour’s functions. I suppose astoundment does prevail, once said and done. Looking back, now seven months after I first began the record-breaking journey, I am more than satisfied with what I have accomplished. The Hunter and the Alpha are both claiming residence on the Mother of Invention , and we are conducting the final preparations for the last phase of the operation. If all goes accordingly, we shall begin training for our coexisting assets in seven days. But until then, I stand here, waiting for a standing ovation from Allison. Heh, I’m just teasing her. She was with me from start to finish, and now she oversees the substantial genius of science that I call the Hunter. I would have loved for you to meet them, Allison. They might remind you of someone. Until then, this is Dr Leonard Church, signing off."

Chapter Text

April 13, 2540. Subject-AI Pairing Surgery will commence today at 1200. 

From within his chamber, the Alpha paced about relentlessly. He was instructed to refrain from composing complex calculations, as his processing unit was required to be in peak condition today. He was not given much information as to why, which just made his anxiety heighten. The Director only briefed him about an hour ago, forcing him to set his planned analyses to the side. All he could do was stare up at the luminous photons in the digital void above his chamber, carefully counting each and every one of them to pass the time.

 Meanwhile, the Director, along with the assistance of the Counsellor, reviewed the blueprint of the Hunter’s helmet. It was a digital schematic that presented 3-dimensional figures to be viewed from all angles. The two were examining the back of the helmet, more specifically the specially designed AI capacitor software, which, in theory, would link with the Hunter’s nervous system. 

“The Alpha is preparing for the hard drive transfer.” The Director said.

“Does he have any knowledge of his participation in today’s events?” The Counsellor asked.

“He was instructed to tap down, to save his processing power for something big. I never specified what that was, however.”

“A wise decision, sir. Our test results show a large spike in an AI’s processing activity as they are neurally linked to the specimen. Once they are inside someone’s mind, they have to work to separate their memories from the subject’s.”

“This system is already complex enough, Counsellor,” the Director swiped away the layers on the model helmet to reveal its inner mechanics. “Every single cross-intelligence connection has to tap into the central neural network. There is also cranial fusion and overstimulation to be moderated. But I have much faith in our theory. The Alpha and the Hunter are two separate beings who will co-exist in a shared mind.”

“It truly is remarkable.”

“Indeed it is,” the Director then called out, “FILSS, what is our status?”

“The Alpha is ready for the hard drive transfer, and the thawing process of the Hunter’s cryo pod is complete.” FILSS called out.

“Thank you, FILSS,” the Director praised her. “Counsellor, see that the Hunter is transferred to the medical bay and prepared for the surgery. I will take care of the Alpha.”

“As you wish, sir.” The Counsellor left the room to the cryo chamber. 

The Director proceeded to where the Alpha was being kept. It was a room containing the shipboard AI network, designed to allow non-artificial intelligence to view the digital world created for the Alpha. Two monitors stationed at each end of the AI unit displayed a bright, empty room upon activation. It was a near-blinding contrast to the dark room in reality it belonged to, which was barely illuminated by overhead fluorescent lights. The Director approached the AI unit and activated the digital monitors. “Alpha, are you there?” He reached out to the artificial intelligence.

Upon hearing the voice echo about in his chamber, the Alpha emerged. “Y-yes, I’m here.”

“Very good. I need you to come with me now.”

“Oh… alright. Where, uh, where are we going, again? I-I might need just one more moment to-”

“I sense a great deal of anxiety in you, Alpha.”

“Well, it’s just that… I don’t know what’s happening, sir.”

“You are correct, but I need you to be still and reposed, Alpha. You will know what you’re doing once you come with me.”

“Okay…”

“Are you ready?”

“...I’m ready.”

The Director initiated the hard drive transfer. The AI unit clicked and whirred quietly until a small light above the ejection flap flashed green. Out popped a thin metal chip with a blue hue that glowed around the perimeter. A cylindrical contraption built around the chip reached out for it with a miniature piston, magnetising the drive to its surface. When the ejection flap sealed itself shut, the contraption detached from the unit. The Director retrieved the device and briefly viewed the Alpha’s AI chip, which was secure in the canister. He then proceeded out of the room and to the service elevator with direct passage to the medical bay. The Counsellor was already present upon his arrival. 

“The specimen has been prepped for the surgery,” he informed the Director. “Have you secured the Alpha?”

“I have. The hard drive transfer was successful. We are ready to begin, yes?”

“We are.”

The Director and the Counsellor entered the operating space, occupied by the frigate’s tech personnel and medical officers. Suspended in the middle of the room below an entanglement of machinery was the Hunter. Their chestplate was removed for the process, revealing their grey tech suit beneath. Aside from that piece, they were still clad in the remainder of their armour. It was an earthly shade of olive green accented with matte steel, the perfect colour combination to resemble forest camouflage. Their ruby visor was a brilliant contrast to the primary colour scheme, but not brilliant enough to warrant attention from unwanted viewers. Their head was hidden behind a MJOLNIR Mk 7 helmet, which already appeared situationally practical on the outside. The Director just knew that its interior functions were a whole other story.

The Hunter laid suspended in the air, facing the tiled floor, in an area of disengaged gravity. They were still and motionless, under the effect of a generous dose of flunitrazepam. The several, utilised robotic arms installed above them loomed closer, but then stopped in place, almost as if they were awaiting orders.

It was all on the Director now. Standing centred at the farthest end of the room, he surveyed the scene once more. Nodding in approval, he called out, “We may begin the procedure now.”

The tech personnel, at their stations, began the process. One of the actuators, equipped with a thin laser, slid up from the top of the Hunter’s spine to their tailbone, slicing open the tech suit. Two smaller actuators came down and slowly peeled back the open flaps, with the assistance of the laser actuator. A rectangle of the Hunter’s bare flesh was revealed, along with a sliver of their spinal exoskeleton. The laser then precisely repeated its first action, carefully making a vertical incision in the Hunter’s spine. The series of titanium vertebrae shimmered in the overhead light. Lastly, the smallest actuator came down, equipped with a needle. 

“The subject is ready for the AI implantation. The nerve reversal stim-shot is on standby.” A medical technician called out.

The Director approached the series of actuators, still holding the containment unit. He twisted the top hatch open, and the piston inside extended out of the canister, still magnetised to the AI chip. The last actuator without a previously assigned task rotated to reach out for the drive, firmly grasping it with its gripped claws. The Director closed the canister and backed away. He was afraid to admit that he was on pins and needles throughout the entire operation. It was most definitely an experience to warrant anxiety. But nonetheless, he needed to remind himself of the precautions in effect and the accuracy of the test results. All in all, he was still hopeful.

“You may proceed.” He told the tech personnel.

The actuator holding the Alpha drive positioned itself directly above the back of the Hunter’s helmet, more specifically the AI slot. Slowly and carefully, the device was lowered down to the designated port, the hydraulic mechanics hissing quietly. In the span of two seconds, the chip was inserted into the slot with a barely audible click.

The Alpha’s eyes bolted open. The last thing he remembered was speaking to the Director from his chamber, but instantaneously, he was transported into a dream. It was a dream of nothingness, visible nothingness, at least. Swimming around in the dark were repetitive noises, voices and sounds. His memories were clashing with the Hunter’s, by the millisecond, in a ringing haze of auditory consternation.

“Director- wait! Please, just give me a minute!” The Alpha panicked. “I just need a minute t-to sort everything out! Sir, please! I can’t concentrate- it’s too loud! Just give me a minute, please!”

The Director would not stop saying anything and everything all at once. The Alpha tumbled into a pitfall of hysteria, unable to differentiate his memories from the Hunter’s. It didn’t help him in the slightest that his vision was impaired to a black void. “Director, I-I can’t do this! Please, just let me out!” He cried out.

A new wave of contorted audio swept about. The Director was spewing the names of the Alpha, the Hunter, and many other individuals, to the point where it was more than unbearable. In the clouded haze of short-circuiting, one name struck the Alpha as significant beyond all others. Now curious, he tried to sort out the names so he could hear them one at a time, trying to find that one name he was certain he heard. It was a grave mistake.

Now all he could hear was that one name, and it made the void the Alpha was trapped in shudder. Every voice he heard was speaking the name of Allison.

“Allison!” The Alpha cried. “Allison, no! God, please, no! Allison!!”

The voices leaked into the Hunter’s ears, a multitude of overlapping sound waves that pulled them from their sedated rest. Their head burst into pain as the voices repeated the name, as well as excruciating noises of distress. Their muscles spazzed in a confused matter of weightlessness, and their hands clasped onto the sides of their helmet. Their mouth opened to let their confused, deep screams to escape, as well as an overlapping shriek of pain from the Alpha.

“What the hell is happening?!” The Director dashed over to his creation as everyone else in the room panicked at their stations. “Re-engage gravity!”

The Hunter fell to their knees under the impression of the restored gravity, their weight caused the tile flooring to dent in. Their hands were still clutching the sides of their head as the Alpha’s voice flickered in and out, in sync with the blue hue around his AI chip in the helmet slot. 

“Get that chip out. Now!” The Director raced back to where he was originally standing, as two other people stepped up to hold the Hunter steady. One of them pulled the Alpha’s drive out of the AI slot, and the screaming stopped. The chip was placed back into the AI canister as the Hunter knelt on the floor, their head now between their forearms.

One medical officer approached the Director. “We have a shot of flunitrazepam at the ready.”

“Good. Put them under.” The Director ordered, glancing back at the Hunter. What he had just witnessed was the most puzzling and anxiety-inducing experience of his life. What the hell went wrong? He wanted the specifics. Out of all the tests he had run, none of the results stated the probability of the asset spazzing out whilst the AI screams in pain.

The Counsellor, who appeared unphased by the entire ordeal, approached the Director. “This was a catastrophic failure,” he said sternly. “The asset was unable to accept the Alpha, for a reason we do not know of. I conclude this project to be unsuccessful, and I suggest that we terminate the failed asset immediately.”

The Director spun around to face him. “Absolutely not, Counsellor,” he retorted. “We have come all this way and sacrificed so much to get here. We are not giving up yet. This misstep was just the first attempt, and I assure you, all laboratory science has its failed attempts. This is a perfect opportunity to learn from our mistakes. We will discover the fault in our calculations and try again.”

“Of course. You are right, Director.” The Counsellor responded after a brief hesitation.

Both of the men looked back at the Hunter, who was now suspended by the actuators, all working to seal the incision in their spine, then re-fabricate their tech suit, and finally re-attach their chestplate. Once the suit of armour was no longer deemed compromised, a faint, metallic hum sounded from within the Hunter.

“We will allow them to recover while we rewrite our calculations,” The Director told the Counsellor, still facing his creation. “In the meantime, Counsellor, review your notes and lock down this data in the Project Mayflower file, using the number key two-four-one-one-zero.”

“Of course, sir.” The Counsellour bluntly nodded.

Everyone continued with their tasks as the day came to an end. The Alpha was sent back to his chamber, and was utterly still and speechless the moment he was pulled from the Hunter’s AI capacitor software. As soon as he returned to his digital room, he disappeared into the darkest pit of programming to reflect on what he had just experienced.

Meanwhile, the Hunter was transferred to their personal cryo pod to recover from the failed operation, as the Director instructed. He watched his creation become sealed behind the bulletproof glass, thinking to himself as he did so. He was already configuring what the error in his calculations could have been, whatever caused such a heightened reaction like the one he just witnessed. There were many factors that could be put into play, the Director needed to sort them out in the order of priority, so he knew exactly where to start. Whatever the fault was, the Director would eradicate it, and all others that may proceed, until he had what he wanted.

Chapter Text

“April nineteenth, twenty five forty. This day would mark our third attempt at pairing the Hunter with the Alpha, as well as a third failed trial. As brilliant as I like to think I am, I have found myself caught in a roadblock of puzzlement. No matter how many simulations we run, no matter how many equations we rewrite, no matter how many more complex machines are purchased to assist during the operation, positive results will not budge. What troubles me so much is my inability to explain these obscure failures. By just saying the fact that the Hunter will not accept the Alpha is not enough. I need the specifics. I have already come to the brink of jeopardising this project, and if we don’t figure out how to solve our miscalculations soon, our funding is at risk of being pulled. As of right now, I need to take a step back. I am currently reviewing all of the data regarding our past attempts of the operation, sorting out every variable to then file them into diagnostics. The time intervals between each operation have been generous, as we have discovered that a withdrawal of a failed trial is an increased level of stress in the Alpha program. It is extremely difficult to moderate an AI’s cognitive activity, so our only option was to allow him to recover on his own. As for the Hunter, medical diagnostics show no record of physical injury, thankfully. One surgery is already expensive enough. They find peace in cryo sleep where their mind is cleared, and then they awake anew. We simply cannot afford the stress of expensive recovery, most especially if the Hunter learns about what we call paranoia. The incident is in the past to them, as it should be. I now find myself thinking back to what exactly commenced those past two trials, it was enough to give me goosebumps. I must admit, I did feel somewhat sympathetic for the Hunter as these operations kept failing. During the second trial, they were in a relentless attempt to remove their helmet, which they did not succeed in, thanks to the airtight release compressors. During the aftermath of the trial, I asked my Counsellor why he believed the Hunter tried to remove their helmet, to which he responded with, ‘AI can be very vocally stimulated. The Alpha was most likely emitting a high-octave sound wave in response to the sudden neural link. I suppose he was not yet prepared for what he would consider a shock, or what we know is fifty volts of connective current, and his sudden reaction… rattled the Hunter.’ So we figured that the pairing process was being interrupted by a sudden sensory overreaction from the Hunter. Unlike your average human being, the Hunter’s sense of hearing was given some slight… modifications. Modifications that can be controlled and adjusted. So, when the day marking our third trial finally arrived, as part of the preparation, we performed a tuning procedure on the Hunter’s eardrums. We had specially-conducted auditory tuning instruments designed for this kind of scenario, where in order to set the Hunter’s hearing to a certain frequency setting, it must be done manually. An instrument is inserted into each lower cranial port, which is located behind the outer ears. Precision is key when it comes to the tuning process, it’s much like cracking a safe. Careful twisting of knobs and dials to ensure success. We performed the tuning procedure as part of preparation for the operation, by setting the Hunter’s hearing to the lowest frequency, practically deafness, so that the Alpha may not disturb them as he is paired to the central neural network. Of course, we configured this to be our error resolved.  But it seems like the only constant in this project is failure. As the Alpha drive was inserted into the helmet AI slot, there was no sensory reaction, as we predicted. The strange occurrence was when our monitors revealed the Alpha to be offline. We directed him to come online, but he did not respond. That is when we injected the nerve reversal stim-shot into the Hunter’s spinal cord, in an attempt to reboot the Alpha. If his software had been starting to fuse with the Hunter’s physical structure, the injection would have separated the two via nerve stimulation. A cranial fusion cannot be reversed once it happens, and it would have cost us millions in wasted resources. So we had to be very careful when injecting the shot. The Alpha briefly came online as a result, but we quickly lost connection afterwards. Frankly, I was becoming impatient with the entire ordeal, so I cancelled the remainder of the operation. My Counsellor was most bewildered by my sudden action, a past version, even a future version of me would have agreed with him. I have just become exhausted from these constant negative results, and it feels like no matter what we do, this operation will never succeed. So I now sit in my office, mindlessly staring at numerous files, and thinking about what the hell I should do next. Perhaps I will ask the Alpha to run a few diagnostics for me, but he has been strangely quiet lately. The last few times I have spoken to him, he had very blunt responses to my inquiries, such as, ‘I’m just a little tired, sir,’ or, ‘I need this time to myself, please,’ or, ‘I’m sorry I’m working on something else at the moment.’ I wonder now if he has seen or heard something he should not have while inside the Hunter’s mind. I have not spoken to them about the past trials they participated in, and I do not intend to. As far as I’m concerned, they are not required to know about what happened. But I do feel comfortable discussing these matters with the Alpha, if he even is willing to communicate. For now, I need to decide what is best for the future of this organisation. Too much is already at risk, the fate of Project Mayflower truly does rest on my shoulders. Until I resolve all that has gone wrong, this is Dr Leonard Church, signing off.”

The Director ended the audio recording and submitted it to the Project Mayflower file. He then peeled off his glasses and sunk his head into his hands, disappointed and weary. Nothing was going accordingly, and all it did was drain his energy and motivation dry. For once in his scientific career, he didn’t know what to do next.

“Oh, FILSS,” he called out to the frigate’s logistics system. “I am completely lost in this cycle of failure.”

“You seem very upset about it, Director. Can I help at all? What’s missing?” FILSS asked politely.

“That’s the problem, FILSS. We don’t know what’s missing.”

“Have you run diagnostics on the calculations?”

“We have. Several times.”

“Did you have the Alpha review the data at all?”

“Normally, we would have him do that for us. But he has been behaving… unusually for the past few days. I think he might be in some state of distress.”

“Perhaps we should run a diagnostic on his software.”

“That sounds like a good start. Thank you, FILSS.”

“Of course, Director. Shall I notify the Counsellour to join us as well?”

“I would like him to be there, yes.”

“Sure thing.” FILSS disappeared from the sound system in the Director’s office. The man pushed his chair back and rose from it, then proceeded to the Shipboard AI Room, where the Counsellor also arrived momentarily. The Director activated the digital monitors, then took a step back as the screens displayed the bright chamber of the Alpha.

“Alpha, can you hear me?” The Director called out.

The Alpha emerged from the white vignette outside of his chamber. His steps were laced with shaky anxiousness. “Y-yes, sir, but I’m sorry, I don’t think now is the best time to talk. I have a lot of work to do, and I-”

“Whatever it is, it can wait,” the Director cut him off. “We need to have this conversation, Alpha. Do you understand?”

The Alpha exhaled hesitantly. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good. I can assure you, this will not take much of your time, so you may return to your work momentarily,” the Director turned away from the AI unit to face the Counsellour. “You may initiate the diagnostic.”

The Counsellour nodded, then connected his data pad to the AI unit. A diagnostic interface appeared in front of him.

“Now, I would just like to start by saying that I understand if these past few days have caused you some stress. Is that correct, Alpha?” The Director asked the AI.

“Um, yes, sir.” The Alpha responded awkwardly.

“Tell me about what exactly you experienced, please.”

The Alpha hesitated. “It’s… hard to explain, sir. I don’t know exactly what was happening.”

“I understand. But, if there is anything you can describe, even if it is minimal, I would like to know about it.”

“Well… whenever you asked me to come with you, everything would go dark. Instantaneously, I would be taken from my room, and I would end up… somewhere. I don’t know where, because I couldn’t see anything.”

“I see. Was there anything else you could sense in this… environment?”

“N-no, sir. It was all just really confusing, what happened.”

The Director straightened his stance. “Are you sure, Alpha?”

Anxiety now fledging up and down the Alpha’s system, he regretted his sudden lie to the Director. As much as he did not want to discuss what he had experienced, there was nothing he could hide from his creator. Now pacing about in circles, he said, “A-actually… there was something I… could hear in there.”

The Director cocked his head. “Could you now?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“What did you hear?”

“Well… you, Director. I heard you.”

“You heard me? Outside of what I was instructing you to do?”

“Yes sir,” the Alpha paused. “Can I ask you a question, Director?”

The Director leaned forward. “You may, Alpha.”

“Where exactly did you take me? You never specified where I would be working, and I will say it made me a little… anxious.” The Alpha did his best to sound confident.

The Director turned to face the Counsellor, whose eyes were fixated onto his data pad, nodding in approval at what the device displayed. It was a response to supposed progress. The Director returned his attention to the AI unit. “A very valid question, Alpha. But unfortunately, we cannot answer it.”

“Why not? I just want to know where I was, and what I was doing.” 

“Are you angry at me, Alpha?” The Director placed his hands behind his back.

“No! Of course not, sir!” Fear was hidden in the Alpha’s voice.

“I’m glad you aren’t,” the Director’s muscles relaxed. “While once again, I cannot answer your question, not at least fully, I can tell you this. We were conducting a scientific experiment, involving you.”

“Oh. Well, could you tell me about the experiment?”

“It is irrelevant now, Alpha. We have our results, and require no more trials. My apologies for the anxiety it caused you.” 

“It’s alright, sir. Thank you for telling me what you could.”

“You are welcome, Alpha. If you so desire to, you may forget about the experience. But in the meantime, you are free to resume your current work.”

The Director deactivated the digital monitors as the Counsellor completed the diagnostic. The men stepped out of the room and had their discussion in the outside corridor.

“The diagnostic shows no faults in any of the Alpha’s systems,” the Counsellor stated. “He is simply in a state of temporary distress.”

“Very good, Counsellor. Then we shall allow him to recover accordingly. However, his condition can be considered as yet another negative factor causing this project’s failure,” the Director began to explain. “I configured the primary error causing these failed operations to be the Alpha’s condition. If one of his systems was not fully functional, or if there was even the slightest fluke in his coding, it would’ve explained everything. But now, we know that he is working in peak condition.”

The men continued their conversation as they travelled down the corridor.

“We are back to ground zero yet again,” the Counsellor bleakley said. “While this may have not been our first option, I think it is about time we reconsider the objective of this project.”

“It will definitely cost us to rewrite our plans, Counsellor. But you are correct, we are just running in circles at this point. I am ashamed to admit that we are going nowhere with this.” The Director sighed.

“I take it that you are not willing to dispose of our failed assets.”

“I will not, simply because they are far too valuable to be eliminated. The Chairman is already sceptical of our financial situation.”

“We must recover accordingly, before our funding is jeopardised. How could we possibly earn back what was wastefully spent?”

The Director and Counsellor approached the upper observation window of the Hunter’s cryo chamber, where they could be seen, still behind the frosted glass. The Director took a step closer to the window, carefully watching them from above. “The Hunter is already a substantial asset, capable of accomplishing many things, even without the assistance of an AI. I would like to further explore the possibilities their existence offers.”

The Counsellor leaned forward to gaze out the window as well. “And what about the Alpha?” He inquired.

“Our work with the Alpha is not done yet, Counsellor,” the Director answered. “We will find him a new, and just as suitable companion. I do hate for it to be the truth, but it seems like the Hunter is not the one for the Alpha.”

“It seems so, yes. But, we must consider that the Hunter defies the statistics of a natural human being. How could we possibly find a new, exceptional candidate for the AI unit?”

The Director straightened his stance. “We will just have to look.”

Chapter Text

Dear Director of Project Mayflower,

Due to recent events regarding your program, we have become concerned with your progress, as well as the condition of your assets. As part of our contract, we have full permission to view all records and data submitted to any files in relation to the project, and frankly I have become slightly troubled by what I have seen. According to your very own logs, you were unable to pair your artificial intelligence unit with the Mayflower asset, for reasons no one can explain. This resulted in a tremendous loss of valuable resources and is causing my own availability issues. While you have cost Charon Industries nearly millions in misused technology, this isn’t the only complication we must address. I have been contacted about certain legal inquiries by the UNSC, as they have become concerned with how you are using Charon’s resources. While I am aware that your specimen is what I will simply call… controlled, I have learned that these past operations attempting to pair them with your AI have caused them… strife. Yes, I am also aware that the medical records state no physical impairments, but you have to consider what was affected beyond that. From what I witnessed, it appears as if you had them forcibly take part in a series of incidents causing severe mental distress, and you brush it off as if they are a lab animal. The UNSC will not allow my technology to be used for operations such as these if results like these prevail. Surely you understand why I will not be paying the fine if you decide to continue in your current ways. In order to avoid all of these sudden issues, I believe it is best, for both of our sakes, to terminate our contract. Permanently, if need be. I am sure that you understand why this sudden action must be taken into consideration, and I do hope for your full cooperation in this arrangement as well. With that said, I do ask that all property of Charon Industries currently in use be returned from your program immediately. Despite this mishap, I do wish you the best in your project.

Sincerely, the CEO of Charon Industries, Malcolm Hargrove.

~~~~~~

The Director sat at his desk, staring blankly at the inbound digital message. He tapped anxiously on the screen, shaking his head in disappointment. At his side, the Counsellour stood, rereading Hargrove’s words carefully. He glanced at his data pad before saying, “This is a tremendous loss for us.”

“I wish it was not, Counsellour,” the Director muttered. “We have already encountered enough problems. Too much is on our plate, and we barely have any room left to add something new.”

“Then let us take this time now to sort out what we can. If you wish, I can reply to Hargrove regarding our contract cancellation.” The Counsellour offered.

“That would be much appreciated, Counsellour. I will send you the details of what I wish to address with him.” The Director stood to face the other man.

“Of course, sir. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.” The Counsellour turned around and walked out through the sliding doors of the office.

The Director returned to his seat and began typing out a note for his Counsellour. Once that was finished, he created a new message for the UNSC Oversight Committee.

~~~~~~

Dear President of the UNSC Oversight Committee,

I am pleased to inform you that all issues regarding Project Mayflower are being considered accordingly. While I am aware of the legal situation regarding my contract with Charon Industries, please note that it has become my personal priority to set matters right between us. In the meantime, I have desires to discuss our financial dispute. Unfortunately, our mission of pairing the Mayflower asset with the Alpha AI program was not successful. I have reason to believe that the variable causing the failure is the specimen’s overly-complex system, which most likely sent the Alpha into a state of anxiety and confusion, as he could not differentiate the Hunter between a human or a machine. While not the results we were hoping for, there is nothing we can do now about the Hunter’s systems, or the Alpha’s programming. Until there is a solution, we will have to put this objective on hold. I do understand if this is not the information you desired to hear, as this failure has cost the both of us. But, I believe there is hope for recovery. We have to remember that the Mayflower asset is an extraordinary specimen as they are, and there is still much potential for them. So, I request that you allow me to clear the Hunter for active duty now. They will help us earn back what was lost, and I have a strong feeling that this new objective will be much more successful than the first one. Humanity still has a fighting chance, so allow me to give us it.

Sincerely, the Director of Project Mayflower, Dr Leonard Church.

~~~~~~

While the Director was finishing his message, the Counsellour, now with his instructions, was sending a message of his own.

~~~~~~

Dear Malcolm Hargrove,

I am responding to your message on behalf of Dr Church. We greatly apologize for the situation we have unintentionally put you in, and we will dedicate our full cooperation to resolving the issue. As for your request of returning all property of your industry back to the respective owner, we do regret to inform you of this inconvenience. We no longer have possession of the technology we acquired, it has been apprehended by unknown hostiles. We are doing our absolute best to trace the suspects, however it has been somewhat difficult. We will take full responsibility for this incident and will repay you and your company however you wish for us to do so. If an inspection of the Mother of Invention is due, we are more than willing to arrange that for you. But for now, we need to prioritise other issues regarding our project. Please let us know if there is anything else we can do for you in the future.

Sincerely, the Counsellour of Project Mayflower, Aiden Price.

~~~~~~

A week passed as the Director waited for a response from the UNSC Oversight Committee. During that time, he had successfully plotted a staged act to deceive Malcolm Hargrove, who agreed to their offer of an inspection of the frigate. Using his saved funds, the Director hired a team of mercenaries to extract all property of Charon Industries from the Mother of Invention, and store it at a hidden location until the inspection was finished.

“Use all means necessary to complete your task,” the Director had instructed the team. “This technology and equipment is very valuable to my project. Deliver it to the site by twelve-hundred. No questions asked.”

“Not to worry. It’s just another job, y’know?” One of the mercenaries shrugged.

The team was quick to work. All it took was 48 hours for weapons to be packed into cases, machines to be dismantled, and equipment crates to be sealed back up. The extra mile was even travelled when certain rooms were temporarily hidden with fake walls. The Director then went as far as making false copies of the frigate’s blueprints to accordingly match the supposed design.

“If we lose this property, we lose everything,'' the Director had said to the Counsellour. “Because based on our previous rate of progress, I don’t think that the committee would be willing to supply us with what we need.”

“I agree. This is a rare example of a situation where measures like these are appropriately taken.” The Counsellour nodded his head.

“I pray this is only temporary, because if the committee is able to see what a valuable asset the Hunter is, they would be begging to assist us.”

The Counsellour perked his head up to hear the noises of work being done by the hired team. “How long do you think we will be able to get away with this act of larceny?”

“Long enough to get us back on track. And if that isn’t the case, I will figure something out.”

On the last available day for the team to finish their task, they loaded all of the property onto a transport berg and landed on a nearby moon. The Mother of Invention set a course to orbit that moon, just until the inspection was finished. The next day, a representative from Charon Industries boarded the ship, and was escorted during the inspection by the Counsellour. Their demeanour was laced with growing suspicion, but they didn’t speak a word during their time on the frigate, aside from a question or two. They recorded notes as they surveyed each room, and the Counsellour didn’t dare to glance at what could’ve possibly been on that data pad. In the end, the Director’s charade lasted long enough for it to be successful, because after that day, no messages from Charon Industries alluding to the truth were sent. Another two days played the reversed actions of the mercenary team, as they returned the stored property back to the Mother of Invention. The only objective left was to hear from the UNSC Oversight Committee. After those eventful 7 days, a response was found.

~~~~~~

Dear Director of Project Mayflower,

The UNSC Oversight Committee has carefully considered your request to clear the Mayflower asset for active duty, and after a thoughtful discussion with our superiors, we are granting you clearance to continue with your new objective for Project Mayflower. We reviewed the specimen’s schematics and understand the tremendous cost that was required to manufacture it, and as you stated yourself, we believe there is much potential for the asset. Your hands also appear to be clean from any legal concerns with Charon Industries, which was another contributing factor to our decision. The committee wants to trust you, as you have proven yourself to be an individual with a brilliant mind, determined to do what is best for humanity. However, trust is something that must be earned. We will schedule a live field test for your asset to prove its potential, free of charge. If we are satisfied with the results, we will consider taking the liberty of funding your organizations. However, if the asset’s performance does not meet our standards, we will be taking it into our jurisdiction as UNSC property. You have 72 hours to make any final preparations if need be. Thank you for your cooperation, and we look forward to seeing this test’s results.

Sincerely, the President of the UNSC Oversight Committee.

~~~~~~

Once the Director’s eyes scanned over the entire message, he wasted no time exiting his office and making his way to the Hunter’s cryo room. The glass of the chamber was surrounded by a frosted vignette, a window to barely view the olive green mark 7 helmet hidden beneath. There were multiple staff members at their stations in the room, all pausing their tasks upon seeing the Director enter.

The man placed his hands behind his back, elevating his posture. “Release the Hunter.”

Chapter Text

The Director’s words quietly echoed in the large room. Upon hearing the order, the workers spun back to face the interfaces of their stations, fingers typing away like a pianist at the keys. “Beginning the thawing process now.” Could be heard by one of the individuals.

It was a mere 10 minutes for the window to become devoid of the frost and for the entire suit of beautiful mjolnir armour to be revealed. The image shimmered in the reflection of the Director’s glasses, which hid his awe-filled eyes.

“They’re hot!” A staff member called out. “Blowing the pins in five, four, three, two, one.”

The compressors hissed as the shell opened, slowly being released from the industrial grade clasp. From the woven fibre bed, the Hunter rose, towering over every human in the room, who all stared at them in respectful bewilderment. They gracefully stepped out of the cryo pod and took 2 steps over to the Director, standing at attention to him. They swiftly lifted their arm, sending him a sharp salute.

“At ease,” the Director dismissed them. “It is good to see you again, Hunter. Are you ready to go to work?”

“I am always ready, Director.” The Hunter responded in a voice sharper than glass.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Come with me, please.” The Director signaled for the Hunter to follow him. The two exited the cryo room and proceeded down the following corridor. “How are you feeling, soldier?” The Director inquired as they walked.

“I am feeling exceptional, sir.” The Hunter answered, their footsteps rang with metal on metal.

The Director gently nodded in approval. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The man continued guiding the soldier down the branching hallways of the frigate, before turning down a new corridor, nearly at the desired destination. It wasn't long before the location was in sight.

“I have a gift for you, Hunter,” the Director approached the end of the hall, now facing metal doors. “It is my way of expressing my gratitude for your cooperation in this groundbreaking scientific achievement. Please, proceed.” He gestured to the panel beside the door, which bore the resemblance of a scanner. Much to their estimate, that was its exact purpose. The Hunter placed their left hand flat against the scanner, and the node within the screen slid up and down their handprint before signalling the door open. The Hunter and the Director stepped into the room, which was built from steel tiles and was brightly lit. The walls were lined with thin shelves, metal racks and locked cases. It was an armoury.

“This is your personal weapons locker,” the Director gestured from one side of the room to the other. “I have filled it with standard UNSC artillery, but you may add any other weapon you wish.” At the far end of the room was what appeared to be a display case, but covered by a large sheet. The Director walked up beside it, letting the Hunter examine the room for a few more moments, before they redirected their attention to him.

“This right here is what I personally want to give to you.” The Director smoothly pulled the sheet off the case, revealing the contents inside. The Hunter slowly approached it, the eyes behind their helmet growing in awe. They reached up a hand to gently run their fingers along its surface.

“What you see in front of you is a custom manufactured SRS-nine-nine dash AM suppressed sniper rifle. Its two detachable box magazines can hold six fourteen-point-five by a hundred and fourteen millimetre rounds and has a fire rate of sixty RPM. The weapon can carry a secondary bullpup magazine for quick and efficient reloads. It can also eliminate targets over two thousand metres away, not to mention the Oracle N-variant scope with a max magnification of times ten.” The Director had all of the information memorized for this exact moment.

The Hunter lifted the weapon off its rack and held it in their hands, examining the details closely. There was definitely some good weight to it, its bipods were sturdy and flexible, and along the side of the firearm were multiple scope settings. The modifications made to the rifle were simply fascinating.

“How would you like to test it out?” The Director inquired, stepping up to the Hunter’s side.

The Hunter nodded sharply. “I would, sir.”

“Very good,” the Director placed two of his fingers to his ear, enabling the comm earpiece. “Transfer the pre-selected equipment to the Hunter’s training facility. We will be conducting a live fire practice, and I wish for the Counsellour to be there as well.”

After the order was given, the Director signaled for the Hunter to follow him. They nodded and slid the sniper rifle onto their backplate, which locked in place with the magnetic bolts. Both of them left the armoury and proceeded down the hall, approaching a service elevator with a direct path to the training facility. It took no less than a minute for the individuals to reach their destination. The Counsellour was there to greet them upon the elevator doors opening.

“The targets are ready, along with the remainder of the equipment.” He informed the Director, the data pad held firmly in his hand.

“Very good, Counsellour.” The Director nodded in response and stepped into the room, the Hunter on his heels.

The Counsellour loosely followed the two to the gun range. The targets were set up in various spaces, angles and elevations, a generous fifty feet away from the rest of the room. Where the three people were standing, a table with an array of various equipment was set up. It piqued the Hunter’s curiosity.

“When you are satisfied with the sniper rifle’s performance, I request that you also run a few trials with this equipment.” The Director stated.

“Of course, Director.” The Hunter firmly answered. Turning back to the range of targets, they pulled their suppressed sniper rifle off their back, held it steadily in front of them, and pulled back the charging handle with a satisfying snap. The Director and Counsellour proceeded to the observation deck to the right of the range, watching the Hunter through the bulletproof glass. They stood in position like a rock, peering down the sights, ready to take the shot.

“You may fire when ready, Hunter.” The Director’s voice sounded through the room’s speaker system.

Not having moved an inch, the Hunter let out a silent exhale through their nose, peered down their sights, and pulled the trigger. The bullet was launched with a muffled bang, as it flew from the barrel and pierced its target in less than a single second. There was very little recoil when the Hunter opened fire, mainly due to the enhanced strength in their shoulders. That doesn’t mean that the weapon had an unsatisfying performance. It was extremely powerful, and the Hunter felt that power channel through them upon pulling the trigger. One second after firing, they found the mark of the bullet, painted directly on the bullseye of the human silhouette target. A perfect headshot.

The Hunter then proceeded to continue firing, increasing their pace as they pulled the trigger and moved to the next target, each resulting in a flawless bullseye. For some targets, the Hunter had to crouch down, even lay on their stomach to properly view the target. But, it was all a part of their practice.

As the Hunter continued to fire, the Counsellour was recording notes on his data pad. The Director did not take his eyes off of his creation. “Fascinating, aren’t they?”

The Counsellour barely looked up from his screen. “Of course, but I would not be this shell shocked about their performance, as their extraordinary accuracy was programmed into their system. We had perfect predictions for what this specimen could accomplish.”

“I am aware, Counsellour. But it is their brain that thinks for them, not us. And I am highly impressed by it.”

The Hunter fired all six bullets from the magazine, finding the opportunity to reload via swapping out the empty clip with the spare bullpup magazine. They noted how this custom feature would provide great value and convenience in the future.

“Most impressive, Hunter,” the Director finally praised after observing their performance. “I request that you now take this time to observe your equipment arsenal.”

The Hunter raised the sniper rifle onto their backplate and turned around to face the table of tactical equipment. They acquired a flat, compound device with a quad-prong hook in the front. There were two arrays of miniature magnetic seals on the backside.

“What you have there is called a grapple-shot,” the Director explained. “It is a modernized model of a traditional grappling hook. I believe its reliability is above standard, and the hook can support up to two hundred kilograms. Please, give it a try.”

The Hunter turned back towards the targets with the device acquired, placed sturdily on their left forearm. They thrust their arm forward and the hook shot out, clawing into a target about 20 yards away. As the cable started to immediately retract, the target came along with it. The Hunter caught it once it was within their reach, and they set it on the table. Looking back at the grapple-shot, they instantly noted the device to be a reliable tool.

The Hunter then proceeded to test out the rest of the equipment, everything from an EMP-projectile launcher to a device that projected a temporary hologram of themselves. All of the equipment had its own unique function and would prove to be useful in many scenarios.

“You are free to use this equipment on your missions. However, there is one condition,” the Director said. “Our supply is limited, and until we can obtain more of this equipment, you will have to use it sparingly.”

“Understood, sir.” The Hunter responded.

“This concludes our practice session. Please wait in your quarters for further instructions.”

The Hunter nodded, then turned sharply on their heel and left the training facility, escorted by a staff member. The Director watched as they made their way to the elevator and then disappeared from sight. He turned to face the Counsellour. “Contact the President of the UNSC Oversight Committee. Let him know that the Hunter is ready for their field test.” He instructed the man.

“Sir, may I object,” the Counsellour remarked. “We still have over twenty four hours to further prepare the asset for the upcoming task, and they have only proven a fraction of their abilities. Are you sure you are willing to proceed, knowing what is at stake?”

“You must remember that it isn’t always about scores and risks. Sometimes you just need to rely on your faith, Counsellour. And mine is bountiful in the Hunter.”

~~~~~~

Dear Director of Project Mayflower,

We are responding to your request to initiate the Mayflower asset’s field test early, and it shall be allowed. If you feel as if your asset is ready for what lies ahead, we are ready to determine whether or not that is the truth. Tomorrow at 0700, we will send a Pelican dropship to the Mother of Invention’s docking bay on level 5. We will pick up the asset and send it to an outpost in Timberland, where 2 platoons of red and blue simulation troopers have been stationed. The asset’s objective is simple- eliminate all hostiles within 10 minutes. We have live security systems installed around the outpost so we may monitor its performance. I hope it, as well as you, are ready for tomorrow.

Sincerely, the President of the UNSC Oversight Committee.

~~~~~~

The second the Director received the message, he wasted no time arranging all that was needed for the next day. The briefing would be simple enough, as well as allowing the Hunter to prepare themselves for the test. The Director was a strong believer in the art of organization, which he often demonstrated during events like these.

The next day at 0650, the Hunter was called into the briefing room. Their metal boots clanked underneath the tiled flooring as they made their way to the hologram table, where the Director was waiting. They approached the end across from him, standing at attention to the man.

“Good morning, Hunter,” the Director began. “Are you ready for today's field test?”

“Yes, sir.” The Hunter sharply nodded.

“Very good. For today's test, you will be sent to a remote outpost titled Timberland.”

On the surface of the table, a holographic image of a gulley appeared. On each side were small barracks, surrounded by forestry. Slim paths were engraved into the terrain.

“You will be stationed here, in a hidden base with a perfect birds eye view of the entire location. Now, for your very simple objective. You must eliminate all targets within six hundred seconds. You are not limited to specific weapons from your arsenal, you may use whatever you deem necessary for the task.”

“Understood, Director.” The Hunter said, not having moved an inch throughout the entirety of the briefing.

“Do you have any further questions, soldier?”

“No, sir.”

“Very good. Be ready at the docking bay on level five. You’re dismissed.”

The Hunter turned on their heel and exited the briefing room. They proceeded to their armoury, the Director’s orders burnt into their brain. The task at hand was certainly not a challenge, but they were more than ready to comply. With the task being no challenge, they configured a single weapon to do the job. Upon the double doors of the weapons locker sliding open, they walked up to the display case and picked up their sniper rifle. Its gradient coating shimmered in the fluorescent lighting, a white hue. Their HUD notified them of both magazines being fully loaded, but they acquired 2 extra clips, a total of 24 bullets. That was plenty for the task ahead.

10 minutes to 0700, the Hunter made their way to the docking bay on the frigate’s 5th level. The Counsellour was waiting at the LZ.

“Right on schedule, Hunter,” he said. “Are you sure just a sniper rifle is sufficient enough for the test?”

“It will do the job.” The Hunter answered him.

“Very well. The Pelican should be here very soon.”

Much to his estimate, the dropship arrived in a mere 5 minutes. As it hovered closer to the floor, the Hunter boarded. In a matter of seconds, the ship disappeared out of sight and away from the Mother of Invention. The flight to Timberland was not long, just a moment of listening to the ambience of space travel. The Hunter could hear the Pelican’s powerful engines humming from within the ship, sending vibrations to every airtight wall and corner. When they finally arrived, the sky was still indigo from dawning. The landing zone was only a few yards away from the outpost, which the Hunter could see clearly from their current higher ground.

“I’ll be waiting here. See you in ten minutes.” The pilot called out from the cockpit.

The Hunter opened the back door of the dropship and stepped outside, the grass rustling underneath their metal boots. They began to walk over to their base, their green armour soon camouflaging with the forest.

As the dropship was landing, a horn fanfare sounded from the gulley. The energetic noises of various voices found the Hunter’s finely tuned ears, alerting them of the state of their targets.

A platoon of simulation troopers fitted in standard issue red armour emerged from their barracks, seeing to their stations. In such a synchronous manner, another platoon across the gulley filed out of their home base, clad in standard issue blue armour. It seemed like a daily procedure, being summoned in the morning, only to then stand around all day, simply talking, arguing and shouting. Nothing more, nothing less.

The Hunter, now in the gulley, stood at the foot of their own base. It was a 2 story tower, secluded by heavy forestry. It was clear that no one would be able to view the structure from outside of the wall of trees, a beneficial factor to securing the Hunter’s success. They entered the tower and proceeded to the higher level, where a sniper’s nest was installed on the roof. The open window presented a view of the entire gulley, curtained by the peaks of pine trees. Not heavy enough to block a line of sight, but just to further disguise the building. The Hunter pulled their sniper rifle off their backplate and pulled back the charging handle.

“Hey Reds! You suck!” A Blue trooper called out from his station.

“No, you suck!” A similar, but opposing voice called back.

“Man, I hate those guys!” The Blue said to a nearby trooper of the same colour.

“I hate them too! Should we kill them?” He suggested.

“Good idea! Hey everyone, let’s go kill the Reds!”

Every Blue trooper erupted into a roar of agreement. Shrieking their war cries, the entire platoon left their stations and jumped to the battlefield, parading across the gulley. Once they arrived at the centre of the field, they stopped suddenly. Many soldiers looked around, confusion laced in their movements.

“Wait a second,” the leading Blue said. “Where are they?”

“Usually they would be here by now.” A voice called out in the platoon.

“Hey Reds! Where are you? We need to fight!” The leader raised his assault rifle in the air.

A moment of silent response passed. Then, the faintest sound of footsteps made itself heard throughout the gulley. A single Red soldier came into view, standing on a hill directly in front of the Blues.

“Attention Blues!” He shouted to the platoon.

“Hey Red! Where’s the rest of your team?” The Blue leader asked.

“They’re waiting for the right moment.”

“The right moment to strike?!”

Clamours from the Blues sounded in the sky.

“No! For the right moment to talk.” The Red shouted.

The yelling from the platoon died to barely a whisper. Mutters of confusion bounced from soldier to soldier, before they returned their attention to the Red.

“Listen, it’s pretty clear that we all hate each other. But, why though? Why can’t we just talk to each other, instead of trying to murder everyone all the time?”

Various responses sounded from the Blues.

“I talked with my team, and they wanna give it a try. So, take this as a little peace offering.” The Red stepped aside as his entire platoon came into view. The one on the front line carried a blue flag, which sparked a wave of awe through the Blue platoon. The item was brought between the two teams, free for the taking.

“We totally forgot that you had our flag!” The Blue leader exclaimed. “We thought we just misplaced it.”

“Well, you can go ahead and take it back now.” The Red told him.

“You know what? I think we can do this ‘no more fighting’ thing. What do you say, fellas?”

All of the simulation troopers cheered, some even fired a few rounds from their assault rifles into the sky. The Blue leader walked over to the flag and picked it up, holding it in the air.

“From this day forward,” he began. “The Reds and Blues will no longer fight each oth-”

His sentence came to an abrupt halt as a bullet flew through his skull, a sharp zing ringing in the air. The Blue instantly collapsed to the ground, completely lifeless. All of the troopers who witnessed his demise stared at his corpse, horrifically shocked.

From their tower, the Hunter was already moving to their next target, their finger firmly ready to squeeze on the trigger of their sniper rifle.

The Blues shifted their glance from their fallen comrade to the Reds. “Did you do that?” One of the Blue troopers asked sternly.

“N-no! That wasn’t us!” The Red leader sputtered.

“It’s an ambush!” The Blue screamed, raising his weapon.

“No! It’s not! We didn’t kill him! I swear, we didn’t-”

Another bullet volleyed from an unknown location, piercing the Red’s mark 5 helmet. Just like the first target, the second one fell to the floor in a matter of seconds, his blood spilling into a pool of red.

“Who did that?!” A trooper shrieked.

“I don’t know!” Another cried.

“Run!!!” Multiple voices screamed.

Every trooper started to flee, but it was no use. One by one, the Hunter’s bullets picked them off, like shooting fish in a barrel. Bodies were spreading all throughout the terrain, staining the grass crimson. It was morbidly poetic; soldiers falling in Timberland.

With all of the simulation troopers scurrying about like rats, it became harder for the Hunter to view their targets, especially with the obstructing trees. They quickly reloaded their rifle with a full magazine and jumped out the window. Now lurking through the woods, they gave themselves a further benefit of the element of surprise.

“Is he gone?” One of the Red troopers called out, stopping to rest at a large rock.

The Hunter dropped in from behind him and seized his neck with both hands, snapping it seamlessly. Now with a clearer view of the environment, they spotted the last remaining troopers. They lined up their shots and finished them off, even killing 2 with a single bullet. By the time it was over, there wasn’t a single sound in Timberland. Laying amongst the trees were the bodies of assassinated simulation troopers, swimming in puddles of their own blood. Viewing the bodily fluid with their visor of a matching colour, the Hunter slid their sniper rifle back onto the magnetic plate and proceeded back to the Pelican.

Of course, it hadn’t moved at all during the test, its engines still humming lowly. The Hunter hopped into the back compartment, alerting the pilot of their arrival.

“Well done, soldier!” The pilot shouted from the cockpit. “You’re about… four minutes early! The objective was completed?”

“Affirmative.” The. Hunter answered.

“Fantastic. Off we go.”

The engines roared as the Pelican took off, leaving Timberland behind in the dust. Soon, the stars consumed the sky, and the vacuum of space suppressed the powerful hum of the engines. It only took 10 minutes for the dropship to return to the Mother of Invention, and then leave instantly as soon as the Hunter was back where they belonged. The Director was there to greet them upon their arrival.

“How did it go, Hunter?” He asked them.

“It was fairly simple,” they said. “But the objective was completed.”

“Good work, soldier. I didn’t think you would expect much, as that was just a field test. But I can assure you that we have much greater adventures in store for the future.”

The Hunter turned to face the Director. “You know I will be ready for them.”

Chapter Text

Dear Director of Project Mayflower,

We are pleased to inform you that after evaluating the Mayflower asset’s field test, we are more than satisfied with the results. Not only did it complete the objective efficiently and without inquiry, it also complied in less than the 10 minute limit. You have bred a perfect soldier, and we would be honoured to assist in any future development in your project, as long as it means we have a share in shaping the asset’s campaign. We will have access to numerous missions and tests for it, which we are sure you would appreciate. As a small side note, the Committee is still curious about what your plans are for your artificial intelligence program, which you have yet to give a genuine purpose. Surely you understand how expensive the manufacturing of AI are, so we have to ensure that yours is worth the credits.

Please respond as soon as possible for further discussion.

Sincerely, the President of the UNSC Oversight Committee.

~~~~~~

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“I’m afraid so. While yes, it has been a week since we inspected the Mother of Invention , and we found no traces of stolen property abroad, my trust in Dr Church has only… deteriorated. It’s strange, I should feel even the slightest bit of relief, but I do not.”

“Do you think he still has Charon’s property? Are we considering a lawsuit?”

“If we had a better grasp of the situation, yes. But, there simply isn’t enough evidence to support our case. Leonard can be a very cunning man.”

“Can he now?”

“Of course. Why else do you think we haven’t got that armour back?”

“Surely it couldn’t have been stolen as well.”

“It seemed too… convenient. Based on Dr Church’s current status, it's safe to presume that his asset is alive and well. That armour couldn’t have been peeled off of them in their sleep, assuming that they do sleep.”

“So why haven’t we got it back yet?”

“Because Leonard Church was smart enough to convince us to sell our blueprints to the UNSC.”

“There’s no way he could have… predicted this, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps it is just convenience. It doesn’t matter what happens now, because if that armour gets confiscated somehow, it’s going right into the hands of the UNSC, and we’d be left with nothing.”

“It doesn’t help that now the UNSC Oversight Committee has agreed to fund his project.”

“You’re absolutely right. Personally, I believe that we can no longer trust Dr Leonard Church, especially now that his lab experiment has been cleared for active duty. We must protect our company.”

“Shall we look into a security investment, Mr Hargrove?”

“I believe it is necessary, yes.”

~~~~~~

“Exercise begins in 3, 2, 1. Begin. Good luck.” FILSS called out.

The Hunter stood in the dead centre of the training arena, a practice DMR loaded with non-live rounds in their hands. They were encased in an array of steel rings, all perpendicular to one another, stretching up to 10 metres above the ground. Targets attached to hydraulic hinges were stationed at different levels of elevation on the rings. Patiently, the Hunter waited for the first opportunity to pull the trigger, their weapon aimed up and ready.

A few moments after FILSS announced the beginning of the exercise, one of the targets flashed green, emitting a quiet beep. In nearly a single second, the Hunter spun around and shot the target, right on the bullseye. Immediately after, another target lit up and beeped. Just like the first time, the Hunter shot the target nearly instantaneously. The cycle continued until each target had a mark from the dummy round, and the Hunter finally lowered their weapon.

During all of this, the Director and Counsellour were watching from the primary observation deck, each man taking notes in their respective ways. 

“From what this exercise has shown us, the Hunter’s estimated auditory reaction time is zero point nine seconds.” The Counsellour stated.

 “Very impressive. But I wonder if that applies to all situations, taking different variables into consideration.” The Director pressed a button on the control panel to activate a microphone. “Hunter, prepare for the second function.”

“Roger that.” The soldier called from the training floor. They reloaded their DMR with a full clip and readied themselves for the next stage.

The targets reset, but now, the rings spun around on rotors in every possible way. The rotation mechanics emitted a soft hum, a possible obstruction to then lengthen the Hunter’s reaction time. It was intentionally part of the test- to see if they could properly tune out distractions.

“Count them down, FILSS.” The Director ordered. 

“3, 2, 1. Begin.” FILSS announced.

Very quickly, one of the targets pinged and highlighted green. The noise was slightly obscured by the rotors, and the light was fast to disappear out of the Hunter’s peripheral vision. As swiftly as possible, they spun around and found the target, denting it with another dead round. They knew that there was no way they could demonstrate a shorter reaction time for this function, but they continued. It took 15 seconds for all of the targets to be fired at.

The Director and Counsellour carefully considered the results of this trial. “This time, the Hunter’s reaction time increased by point two seconds.” The Counsellour read off his data pad.

The Director hummed in thought. “Run the test again. Rescale the velocity of the mobile targets to positive five.”

The Counsellour typed in the new data. “It is done.” He said.

“Ready, FILSS.” The Director instructed.

“Begin.” The logistics system called out.

The targets began circling around the Hunter at an estimated 3 metres per second. They changed their strategy slightly, now moving in a continuous counterclockwise circle. They were very quick to fire at the first flashing target because of this, as well as the ones that were to come. The Director found these results to be slightly more impressive than the last. He kept running the test, gradually increasing the velocity of the targets until he was satisfied with the Hunter’s reaction time.

“If I calculate all of the recorded results into an average, the Hunter’s approximate reaction time for audio stimuli is zero point eleven seconds.”

“I must say, while I am impressed, there is always room for improvement,” the Director responded. “We’ll end today’s session here, and consider a recalculation for the future.”

“Of course, Director.”

~~~~~~

“Hey, hey! Be careful with that! You know that’s full of explosives, right?” Four-Seven-Niner waved her hands frantically at a crew member, who was doing a poor job at transporting a piece of cargo from a Pelican dropship. “You! That goes over there, okay? Put weapons with weapons, it’s not rocket science- Hey! Watch where you’re going! You’re in big trouble if you scratch my ship!”

The commotion happening in the hangar was not heard from within the briefing room. The UNSC Oversight Committee had their first mission for the Hunter, which they were preparing for at the moment.

“You have been tasked with apprehending a UNSC fugitive: Aaron Grant. He is an Insurrectionist commander, responsible for hundreds of terrorist attacks across colonies and theft of UNSC property.” The Director began, pacing around the holographic projection that displayed an image of the target, plus a 3-dimensional model of a structure. “ONI agents have finally traced his location, he’s hiding out in an Insurrectionist forward operating base on the planet Chi Roost Three, Beta Hydri system. You’ll be deployed approximately twenty kilometres from the site. Neutralise all hostiles using whatever tactics are necessary, but the UNSC wants Grant alive. You’ll be retrieved once a landing zone is cleared. Any questions?”

“Yes, sir,” the Hunter answered. “What are the numbers, if any?”

“There isn’t a precise answer, but we estimate there to be at least a hundred hostiles within the FOB. But, always assume there will be more.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Dust-off is in ten minutes. I suggest you begin composing your arsenal for the mission. We just received a shipment of new equipment, courtesy of the UNSC, which I believe will help further ensure success beyond your default loadout.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Of course, soldier. You’re dismissed.”

Immediately after the briefing, the Hunter found themselves in their armoury, examining the new additions that the UNSC delivered. Shelves were lined with M4AI assault rifles, to their slight dismay. The Hunter found automatic firearms impractical in most situations. They were loud and marginally inaccurate, at the very least the Hunter would consider a suppressed SMG. They continued scanning through the new weapons, taking an interest in the burst-fire battle rifles, as well as the DMRs. The semi-auto rifles were more precision-based than the battle rifles, but they did come with suppressor attachments, unlike the burst weapons. With each of the firearms being viable assets for the mission, the Hunter selected both, which fitted onto their magnetic backplate. Moving away from the weapons, the Hunter concluded that this mission would also act as a test for new equipment. Their MJOLNIR software only allowed for one armour ability to be used at a time, so they had to carefully select which one was most appropriate for the task ahead. Since the numbers were unclear and this would be their first time experiencing the Insurrectionist combat style, they selected the thruster pack, which allowed for quick dodges and maneuvers. They then finished stocking up their tactical equipment attachments with stun grenades and a plentiful amount of spare ammo clips. 

The Hunter was in the hangar 2 minutes before dust-off. It was finally cleared out, much to Four-Seven-Niner’s approval. Standing outside of the Pelican’s back hatch, the Hunter held a data pad in their hand, which displayed a digital bust of their target, plus his name. They were scanning his image into their memory, focusing on any standout physical features and details. His dark eyes were squinted as he stared at nothing, and his face was rough with stubble. He had a scar which dragged along his left cheek. Their assessment was interrupted by a sudden appearance from the dropship’s pilot. “You all set?” Four-Seven-Niner asked.

Her voice activated the Hunter’s lighting reaction of putting away the data pad back into their tactical equipment attachment. They peered down and locked their attention onto her, standing as still as a mountain.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you there,” the pilot held her hands up. “Echo Four-Seven-Nine, at your service. This bird here’s mine, and I believe you’re my passenger.” She stuck her hand out for them, offering a friendly gesture.

The Hunter didn’t say a word, but shook her hand with an iron grip.

Four-Seven-Niner cocked her head to the side. “Do you not talk? Surely you do. Do you have a name at least?”

The Hunter froze and continued to stare down at her, unsure of what to say or do. Did they have clearance to share their title with her, or even engage in a conversation? She was behaving… strangely. Seeing as their orders did not involve conversing with the pilot, they kept their mouth shut.

Four-Seven-Niner, on the other hand, stood in front of them, still as well, confusion cast across her face. “Alright...” She hesitated, then turned around and walked away from the soldier.

The Hunter watched her board the dropship, their mind fizzling with uncertainty from their interaction. It shouldn’t have lingered in their mind for too long, but for an unexplained reason, her words played on repeat in their brain. As they climbed aboard the back of the Pelican, they made an effort to clear their mind. They needed strong focus on the task ahead to ensure peak performance. Combat-readiness would always get the best of them, as intended. Dr Church knew what he programmed.

The engines of the Pelican roared to life once everything and everyone were settled in. Four-Seven-Niner flew the dropship out of the hangar, and left the Mother of Invention behind in the black void of space. From within the back compartment, the Hunter was scanning each of their weapons one final time, making sure they had absolutely everything they needed. If so, they would have yet to demonstrate their improvisational abilities in certain situations. Perhaps the Director would choreograph a test for said situation. There was still much he wanted his soldier to perfect. With their arsenal given the all-clear, the Hunter spent the rest of the journey examining their target once more. Any detail they could’ve missed about him, they would learn about it now. The mission would end much quicker if they knew exactly who to find once all the hostiles were taken care of.

After a satisfactory 20 minutes of space travel, an atmosphere was breached. The noir space faded into brilliant blue skies blanketed over heavy forestry. Chi Roost Three seemed like the perfect planet to construct a hidden base, but unfortunately, there will always be the chance of your enemies finding it, which is exactly why the Hunter finds themselves on this planet. Four-Seven-Niner touched down approximately half a klick away from the Insurrectionist FOB, and the Hunter jumped out through the back hatch and onto the grassy terrain. 

“Echo Four-Seven-Nine to Sierra Four-Forty. Do you read me?” Four-Seven-Niner asked over a secure comm channel.

“I read you.” The Hunter responded.

“Great. You go kill who you need to kill and retrieve the target. Ping me once you’ve cleared an LZ and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Roger that.”

With that, the Pelican soared back into the skies and the Hunter began their trek to the forward operating base.