Unspartan: Ch. 1
Posted By: Lord Palarious<duct_walker@yahoo.com>
Date: 7 August 2007, 7:51 am
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A tremor ran over the craft, jarring awake two of the marines in the pod. Tinker needed no waking. A curious side effect of the augmentations, he found that rest wasn't needed nearly as much as it used to be. It had proven invaluable in correction of the multitude of flaws in the MJOLINIR armor designs. He doubted the project would have been completed within the time the research team had been given without his aid. He smiled at the memory. They had given him EVERYTHING he had asked for. He had learned more than they would ever know. Using the equipment they gave him, he had done more than create functional Mark 4 armor. He had taken designs for hundreds of armor designs and created over thirty different variants of armor for both humans and vehicles. The most promising was a sort of film he believed could one day be used for extreme camouflage. They had been so impressed that his other actions had gone unnoticed. The vast databases of the UNSC, in all its various shadow groups and factions, had fallen into Tinker's very curious hands. He knew the missions the Spartans had embarked on. He knew the augmentation failure rates. He knew what he had expected: he was no longer even listed as a Spartan. His record stated his augmentation had failed. Thus, he no longer existed. He traced the activities of Ackerman, surprised he could find no evidence he had been involved with his own particular fiasco. In any case, Tinker would have felt like shaking his hand if he had. He had accomplished more in the year and a half after augmentation than ever before. He knew more about the UNSC than anyone he knew. And, most of all, he had his body back. And there were perks to designing the armor that would augment him for the rest of his life. He doubted future suits would get the kind of enhancements, know and secret, his personal one had.
He had embedded entire UNSC databases into the very gel of the MJOLINIR armor. The memory capabilities had already been know, but he expanded them beyond anything the scientists had thought possible. When he first informed them it could support an A.I., they only refrained from laughing because of the fact he reminded them of a psycho-killer. The man never talked! They had seen the unclassified parts of his medical record. He had functional vocal chords. So, out of a desire to not be murdered in the night, they listened. Months later, they had been given secret metals and even better facilities in what was quickly becoming one of the most important secret projects in UNSC history.
Jarred from his thoughts a second time, Tinker linked with the main computer. They shouldn't be having these sorts of disturbances. His equipment, untested as it were, should have negated that particular effect of the "skipping stone" technique of slip space travel. The project to use the exiting and entering properties of slip space for a super drive had been a complete failure previous to his forced entry into the program and for good reason. Nothing had ever survived a test jump beyond radiation and elementary particles, a transition Tinker really didn't feel like making. He growled and the marines visibly flinched. These men were going to have to get some backbone. They weren't on a milk run here and their ship was about to hit the fan.
Tinker ran the diagnostics again. This could not go wrong! Everything he had done so far would pale to this! Imagine, streaking across the stars up to an estimated 60 times faster than any regular ship in slip space! The diagnostics came back clean. Wait. There it was!
A fluctuation in one of the minor energy coils! Something was using just enough energy to disturb the compensation field. Tinker cursed silently. Quickly, he used the hand signals he had taught the men to tell them to brace for impact. They jumped to it while he unsealed the hatch. He had to move fast.
Someone had sabotaged the mission! They couldn't do this! He seethed inwardly. This mission was destined to change the way the upcoming war with the rebels went in a way nothing the Spartans could ever accomplish. The war would be won in space, not on the ground! And the weapons potential of the various side effects of the "skipping stone" technique was more than impressive. He had reached the hatch in front of the coils. The captain was yelling something over the whine of the ripping compensation field. Tinker turned off his radio and switched off the decompression cycle for the hatch. He had no time and the MJOLINIR could take the vacuum. The door pulled open and Tinker crashed through the door.
Right ahead, two to the right.
There it was.
He knew advanced UNSC material when he saw it. And the array connected to it was definitely the work of their technicians. Probably thought no one who check here because of the vacuum, he realized. This wasn't sabotage: this was a spy. Instinct guided him, and, in the blink of an eye, he had separated the little cube from its apparatus. He knew there were only seconds left till they were turned into atomic particles by their re-entry into normal space. He connected to the computer to an extent he had never attempted before and something cold seemed to settle in the back of his head. He shook it off and began to try to re-adjust the field.
*It won't work* a hauntingly familiar voice suddenly said. *It's gone too far.* So I am a psycho killer, Tinker thought. He kept working. *LISTEN TO ME!!!* The pain was almost physical. *We have to use a body of mass already in slip space to slow us down! We might actually survive the exit then. It's the ONLY way.* Tinker stopped. The psycho voice was making sense. The pattern was already too disrupted. Tinker located the nearest sufficient mass. He barely had time to notice its unusual shape before accelerating the ship to maximum to cover the distance. They might just make it. Tinker energized the prototype plates on the hull. It wouldn't be much, but it'd hold the compensation field a little longer. It had only been 0.3 seconds from the second he removed the strange cube. He signaled the computer to close the doors behind him as he ducted through the suction into the hall. 0.2 seconds to exit. 1.3 seconds to the mechanics locker. The wail was a roar. 0.4 seconds to secure self in locker. Coil room hatch closes just prior.
The ship exited slip space before the locker door shut. Everything went black. Tinkers last observation was that the cube no longer had an energy signature.
*You're dense, you know that?*
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