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Brutus, the Spartans, two AIs and the Pirate Fleet (Part 1)
Posted By: Traumatised Marine<rbecalick@hotmail.com>
Date: 8 April 2003, 7:45 PM
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'Those who depend on prosperity, and despair during war; fail to realise that peace and struggle are by-products of chaos. In an existence where a mind's world is as delicate as a candle flame in a stormy sea."
-David Ward, 2241.
"Commendable though the successes of the Spartan II project are, Dr. Halsey, you cannot deny that we will not be able to turn the tide of this struggle with a new batch of supersoldiers. They are a small group of human beings, no amount of military mind-conditioning or anatomical augmentation will make them strong enough to change things now."
Dr. Halsey took off her spectacles and gave them an intentionally slow clean. She was well aware that every person at the long conference table in the center of that ridiculously dark room in the depths of the ONI building was waiting for her to reply. Finally she replaced her glasses and looked at Professor Zolkievich coolly.
"Professor, I did not ensue that idea, what I am saying is that the scope of application and abilities of my Spartans should not, and must not, be overlooked. Time is running out, and we will never have the chance to try and formulate a dynamic strategy again. We have little left opportunity to make a stab at our race's continued existence, and I am saying that the only weapon that we have that has ever shown to be more powerful in any way to the Covenant is my Spartans."
Professor Zolkievich bowed his head in slight frustration for a moment.
"Yes, Dr. Halsey, I know that, and it is completely irrelevant to what I just said- The Spartan II's are simply soldiers when you come down to it. They cannot stop an orbital bombing, nothing we have ever done has ever been truly effective at winning significantly against the Covenant. Thus, I ask you; what is the sense in squandering this precious, last chance that we have, on something that we have already tried? We cannot win the way we are now, we must find a new factor, a new application that will open up new scope for us, and a genuine hope of humanity surviving."
It was now that a General asked the question that Professor Zolkievich wanted.
"What 'new factor' could there possibly be?" He asked, incredulously.
The Professor smiled.
"An allay within the Covenant!"
A sudden jolt of look-exchanging and murmuring shot through the assemblage at this concept. Once it died down the Professor answered the question that all the other people's faces were shooting at him; 'How.'
"My colleagues and I are confident that, provided with the resources and necessary individuals, we could clone a perfect Covenant, who we would train. When we would be finished, this alien allay would be totally loyal to and understanding of our cause, able to blend in inauspiciously with it's own kind. And when the time came..."
The Professor brought his fist down on the table,
"...cripple the Covenant network from the inside. The scope we would have if we could have an insider in the Covenant is endless..."
The Professor gave a small grin. He had set the bait, now he would reel them in.
"...and it would certainly turn the tables, suddenly we would have a strong, fighting chance against the Covenant!"
One of the Admirals scoffed,
"What utter rubbish, how would you be able to inject such an 'operative' into the Covenant military without detection?"
The Professor gave a resigned sigh, but then quickly gathered himself again, angry at himself for showing a visible sign that he knew his idea was flawed.
"There are two possible ways that the subject could infiltrate the Covenant military. Firstly, we own several pieces of Covenant technology, including a pair of 'Seraph' Covenant fighters. I would propose that the subject would pilot one of these craft mid-battle into a confrontation between our own forces and the Covenant, a battle where there would be other Seraphs in combat. At the end of the battle, when the Seraphs are recalled, so shall our own operative. The other option would be to inject the subject into a field battle, and he would return in a similar way as he would in the previous option; once he was recalled."
An ONI Official spoke up.
"Ridiculous," She snapped, "There are a thousand ways this could go wrong. The operative might even be killed before it gets the chance to infiltrate a Covenant ship."
Another official agreed,
"There are too many flaws to this plan, it is half-planned and not practical. We should not take the risk."
However one of the more respected Joint Chiefs, spoke forcefully.
"The question is not if we could afford to take the risk, but if we could afford not to take the risk. This plan may not guarantee success, but if I find out a single one of you has even briefly deluded yourself into thinking we could come up with a bullet-proof plan during times like these; I will do my level best to ensure you never come anywhere near this council room again. This plan has the potential to change everything if it works, and I think that whatever it is Professor Zolkievich needs, he'd better get!"
The Professor grinned and nodded his appreciation of the Joint Chief's support.
"Dr Halsey!" The Professor called in the hallway outside of the conference room.
Dr Halsey turned to face the advancing Professor.
"Yes?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.
"I have a request to make. There were many members of your team who organised and carried out the augmentation of the Spartans and also the growth of their replacement clones, I believe."
Dr Halsey flushed pink briefly.
"How did you know that!?" She hissed in a fluster.
The Professor did not answer that question, he got the impression she would not pursue an answer. Instead he proceeded to ask,
"It would be immensely helpful to my team's new project if we could borrow the experience of the appropriate individuals in your research team."
Dr Halsey paused for a moment, considering this, before consoling herself that she could not afford to be secretive and withdrawn to her fellows at a time like this.
She gave the Professor a sudden disarming smile.
"Of course, Professor Zolkievich, whatever you need to get this project afloat."
**************
Dr Hobson entered the lab, and his head was involuntarily drawn to view the vertical cloning tank in the center of the room.
Thousands of black tubes, power cables and optical wires spanned out from the tube across the room to their appropriate fluid tanks, control stations and status monitors. They resembled the vines of some swamp-dwelling plant that had had more than a century of solitude to grow and dominate some derelict room.
Although of course, this was no derelict room, and that which filled it had been constructed in a matter of weeks. The threat of danger always promoted efficiency.
Within the tube, that glowed faintly turquoise, the 'project' was growing.
Professor Hobson studied the half-grown Elite yet another time, there was always a fascinating element to be found at looking at an alien creature so lifeless and close that never ceased to exist no matter how many times you saw it. The Elite's skull had more pronounced rear lobes, and it's jaws fitted snugly around the device that was feeding it and giving it air via a number of tubes. The ridges of the sockets of it's closed eyes (rather like a crocodile's) were the only way he could actually make out where the eyes were against it's tough scaly hide.
It's arms were lanky yet muscular, and four digit claws were at the ends of each, (the fourth on each in a similar position to our own thumbs.) The chest was bulky in comparison to the waist, the ribs and sternum well-defined. The legs were muscular, with one more joint than a human would have, the leg movements would be similar to that of the rear legs of a horse. At the ends of it's legs were a pair of thick, robust, cleaved hooves. Dr Hobson shuddered as he got a mental image of those demonic hooves trying to pummel through the thick transparent acrylex of the tube.
Dr Hobson's gaze turned to Professor Zolkievich, whom was with Professor Moulinaux; the pair of them stalwartly watching the monitors and the Elite with unrelenting vigilance for any problems. Even with the very pinnacle of SolCore's current cloning equipment and databases, cloning was a very uncertain thing, and they couldn't afford to lose this creature.
Dr Hobson approached Professor Zolkievich, and waited to be acknowledged, (one annoying behavioural quirk of the frail yet authorative Professor Zolkievich was he would not respond or communicate with someone until he decided he was ready.)
Professor Zolkievich finished running his diagnostic and looked up at Dr. Hobson, while Professor Moulinaux continued, unchanged.
"Did they agree?" Asked Professor Zolkievich simply.
"Yes, Professor, they'll be carrying out the operation the day after tomorrow, at 10:00 am."
Dr. Hobson slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small pill container.
"They said you should take one of these this evening, and another two tomorrow; one in the morning and one in the evening. Apparently the brain has a sort of neural 'seize-up' if it has any form of physical siphoning or neurone cutting, these pills will depress that effect in the frontal lobes of your brain, so they can take some tissue safely."
Professor Zolkievich took the little container and examined the label briefly. Satisfied, he put it in his own pocket. He faced Dr. Hobson again.
"Thank you Doctor Hobson." He dismissed, before retraining his eyes on the monitors.
"It will be strange," Continued Doctor Hobson, "it'll effectively be a clone of you, even if it will be based in silicon. There's only one other person whose actually had this procedu-"
"Doctor Halsey," Professor Zolkievich finished, "Yes, I know."
Dr. Hobson turned to leave, but then he hesitated. He took another look at the Elite in the cloning tank.
Then he asked,
"Professor, have you thought what you're going to call it?"
"Brutus." The Professor replied bluntly, not pausing at his busy monitoring station.
Professor Hobson pondered for a fleeting moment, then thought aloud,
"Ah, the one person Augustus Caesar thought he could trust most, the one who sent the final knife into his back. But didn't Brutus end up with those who once supported him turning against him?"
"Not before the deed was accomplished." The Professor replied dryly.
"Hmm..." Mused Dr Hobson, eyeing the Elite, "Let's hope the knife doesn't end up in our backs..."
Professor Zolkievich continued to tap away at the control panels.
"If it will help you sleep at night, Doctor, I will call him 'Charles.'" Professor Zolkievich said with his typical wit.
Dr Hobson grinned, and glanced again at the creature.
"No... keep 'Brutus,' he doesn't look like a 'Charles.'"
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