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So before we start I must say that my numerous brothers and not so numerous sisters I have failed.... The intrusive thoughts have won.
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And So I am officially announcing that in the coming month or so I will be starting a second fic! It will be something I update periodically behind this one and use it not to get writers block. But before that I have narrowed down my knowledge of fictional universes to two possible options. So I am having a vote, though I am leaning more toward option two because of reasons. Also if one of these doesn't pan out then I shall drop it and take up the other as a back up, so fear not. Drop a simple +1 in the comments for your choice.
Anyway the options are:
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Option A: Star Wars- MC will be a clone (Of course not in the traditional Jango Fett way) created on Kamino well before the clone wars. I want to change some things with the force so be prepared for that, and I want this Mc to share a lot in common with Alpha.
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Option B: DBZ/GT/Super: This fic is going to follow a alternate version of Gohan. This will be similar to a what if Gohan wasn't so pacifistic. Of course I already have planned some twists and will be interpreting the Ki system from my perspective. Besides that I want to make or expand upon Dragon ball things, for example make Chi Chi and Goku more parental? I mean they weren't necessarily bad parents but we didn't see them being very involved due to the manga's focus.
Please vote and leave comments!
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April 22, 2525
UNSC Atlas, Epoch-Class Heavy Carrier
(Alpha Pov)
The weeks since augmentation had been…trying to say the least. It took me three days to get back fully onto my feet (I thought I could have been up in two, but Halsey thought otherwise), and being stuck on a bed was like screaming as shrill as possible in my ears. Must be my slight ADHD acting up, but it was torture to not be doing anything efficient with my time, though I did manage to read some good books.
After that day I rejoined the class and we began to go through a new routine. The routine began the day with isometric exercises and stretches so that our expansion of muscle didn't group up and stress a nerve. From there we did light sparring with each other to get used to the enhanced senses and absurd amount of muscle. The rest consisted of eating… a lot and a series of shots for required minerals and vitamins.
Sadly, I was unable to do any sparring, both Halsey and Mendez made that point abundantly clear. Other than that fact it was the same for me as everyone else. The consensus of the class was that the aching bones were the worst lingering effect, but I didn't complain much about it.
I had been having nightmares periodically since my surgery because being sliced up while awake isn't something you just forget or get over. Though that experience has dulled any pain I experience now, it isn't something I enjoy reminiscing about. My teammates, Daisy, and Mendez all picked up on the fact due to my general avoidance of talking about the procedure. They all tried to broach the subject, but I shut that down immediately. Halsey keeps wanting me to get some type of bull shit therapy, but hell will freeze over before I go to some shrink.
For now, they have stopped all attempts to initiate that topic as the subject of conversation but I am on guard. Meanwhile, I have been hitting the gym like a madman with anyone willing to go.
Today I realized I had barely talked to John in the past week or two and decided to tag along with him. Which leads us to my current predicament:
"Why are you moping?" I asked, looking to my side.
John, giving me his most sincere moping face, looked back, "I am not moping," his tone was that of a cross between a pouting child and a person thinking deeply about the meaning of life.
"I aM nOt MoPiNg!" I said mimicking his voice, "That is the definition of a moping voice. If Fred or Kelly were here they would 100% be screwing with you over that," I said, staring at him with a deadpan.
"Let's just work out," John said, sighing as we entered the training gym. I rolled my eyes at his behavior and went over to the bench to spot him.
"We aren't doing that first," John corrected me as I neared the bench, "We are going to spar first," I couldn't help but gape at his request.
"You're joking right?" I asked as he climbed into the boxing ring, "John you know I am not allowed to spar with anyone. Hell I don't even know how hard I can punch without killing someone," I tried to reason with him
"If I can survive getting into a fistfight with you. Then I will be better prepared for other situations in combat," he explained with a determined expression.
I sighed, "You aren't going to back down are you?" I asked only to see him continue staring at me, "Fine, how about this, if you can land a single good hit on me then we will spar for real, but if I can manage to block, check, and dodge all of your hits for a minute then you have to tell me what has put you into this mood,"
John paused for a second, "Deal" he finally said as he went to a corner of the ring. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I grabbed the ropes and hoisted myself onto the platform.
I walked to the opposite corner and stretched my arms and shoulders a bit, "Your move first," I said, raising my hand and gesturing with my fingers to 'come at me'.
John didn't fall for my provocation and immediately moved to close the distance between the both of us. It was a smart move especially because he needed to get rid of my reach advantage. I brought up my guard keeping one hand in front of my chin and the other out front.
We both silently bounced on the balls of our feet circling the ring, both of our concentrations laid on our respective opponent. Finally, John's opening strike came, and a simple left-handed jab was fired at my jaw. I pushed my weight onto my left foot and smashed his incoming hand with my right forearm avoiding the hit.
This was part of John's plan if I have to guess because he immediately threw a right hook. Thankfully my augmented reflexes helped me perceive the strike and I immediately crouched rolling my head underneath his arm successfully evading it. John had thrown all of his mass into that strike and was still carrying out the punch, so once on the other side of his body, I took a step or two back to gain distance.
John countered to my surprise by….launching a hook kick? "I thought this was a boxing match," I commented as I threw my forearm to check it. I grunted as the leg landed on my arm, I most certainly felt the force transferred. Pushing his kick down I was then able to achieve a bit more space between me and him.
John didn't answer and instead regained his stance as we again began to circle the ring. I checked the clock we had set up, thirty seconds still to go and I was sad to see it. I honestly had been enjoying the spar so far even though I couldn't fight back, it helped train something I was never able to.
'Here he comes,' I thought, pulling myself away from watching the time. He began to throw jabs with his right hand, I began to take steps back to remain out of range causing him to miss, but I in return was losing space quickly. I tried to slow the number of steps I was taking and extended my hand to act as a defense against his incoming punches while I kept my head and remaining hand back and up.
Eventually, I found myself back against the ropes and could only put up both arms to keep protected as John began to launch punches focusing on my abdomen. Finally, he had enough and intended to shatter my guard and generate as much power as possible as he came back with his arm and sent a punch at the center of my guard. I saw this occur and went to sink my hips and crouch down again to avoid the upper body hip.
Unfortunately, I found myself playing right into John's trap as I saw the form of the punch shift from a jab to an uppercut, 'Is he trying to take my fucking head off?!' I thought as my eyes widened. With no conventional way out I decided that it was time I stopped taking the high road in the battle.
I leaned to the side and clamped my arm around his forearm, pinning it between my own arm and lat. I stepped deep and across his body before throwing my arm through his armpit and turning my hips into him. The force of my movement immediately took him off his feet, and he was probably confused as fuck as I threw him over my shoulder.
*THUD*
John hit the platform hard as I held his arm pinning him to the ground, at the same time the alarm went off notifying us the time was up, "Seems like I win," I said standing up and raising a hand in front of John.
"...damn I thought I had you that time," was all John said as he accepted my helping hand and stood up.
"Almost," I said as I sat down and drank from my water canteen, "So why have you been all pissy for the last week or two?" I asked watching John as he sat down as well.
"Fine," he sighed before looking at me. I saw the glint in his eye and knew exactly what he would say, "I simply hated the fact I couldn't do anything to save our classmates. I abhor the fact that I was powerless to stop them, so if I can be more capable in the future. Then maybe I wouldn't have to go to any more funerals,"
I sighed, 'Of course, you would be thinking about something like that,' I thought before responding, "Look John you're a dumbass," I said, making John glare at me.
"You are a heroic, caring, and brave dumbass. You can't control everything, people die, bullets hurt, and missions go south, that's just how things are. Now, you working yourself half to death like I know you have been is only going to cause more problems down the line," I spoke clearly, staring down at him with a menacing glare, "If you can't accept those facts then, John, you aren't meant for a leadership role. The most important trait anyone can have is to be able to let go of the past and accept it, so that they can move on," I explained as he listened intently.
He was silent for a moment after I finished, I didn't exactly know what was going on inside that head but before long he nodded, "You're right, thanks Alpha," he said, expressing his gratitude.
I ran my hand through my hair which had begun to grow a bit longer than a buzz cut. Since we were done with training for the most part Mendez had relaxed regulations and allowed us to grow our hair out.
Running my hand through my hair I gave John a smirk, "Yeah, I know. I am pretty great," I said with modesty. John rolled his eyes at my behavior and we both stood up.
"Bench?" he said as we stood side by side staring at the single greatest piece of workout machinery.
I nodded, "Bench,"
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(Dr. Catherine Halsey Pov)
"Admiral, I can't help but express my opinion that this is not the correct way to test the Spartan's capabilities. I suggested very clearly in my last message that a better test would be a team of heavy Mark I powered armor," I sputtered out as I struggled to keep the fast pace of the head of the Office of Naval Intelligence.
I was only informed of this test right before I had planned to go to bed. Upon hearing of said message, I decided to forgo my rare sleep time and instead wait until the Admiral had arrived aboard the ship. In the meantime, I took care of something that came as a surprise last year and forced me to take a…extended leave.
My daughter, Miranda.
My pregnancy came as a surprise for both me and Jacob after our….last time together. I honestly only told him to inform him of the fact that I was pregnant, and was even more surprised when he showed up to take care of me during that time…I was right in my earlier conclusion that my Lieutenant, Jacob Keyes is a good man.
After I gave birth we had a conversation and concluded that at least for now it was a wiser decision for me to watch over Miranda due to Jacob's frequent movement. Our departure was emotional, to say the least, but the promise that he would come visit, made me feel a great deal better….I think.
As for Miranda…I have struggled to find much time to spend with her. Not even a month after the birth I was transferred to the UNSC Atlas and now here we are. I haven't told Alpha yet that he technically has a little sister because I am torn.
On one hand, a child needs proper care and needs to be looked after as well as given attention, but if I do that my time for the project will be deducted. So I am presented with a choice: take care of my kid or take care of humanity…
"What are you worried about Catherine? I thought these little freaks of yours were the greatest soldiers ever created," the asshole beside the Admiral spoke.
"Ackerson, with all due respect I don't remember speaking to you," I said in a cold voice. Ackerson. The Colonel had been a thorn in my side ever since I was promoted to the head of research for O.N.I. and he lost the funding for his project to my Spartans.
"Dr. Halsey, you are in no position to make any demands because of the stunt you pulled with those flash clones. Now, answer the Colonel's question, why are you so apprehensive about testing these soldiers?" Admiral Parangosky spoke glaring at me from the corner of her eye.
I straightened myself up, Margaret Parangosky was easily the scariest woman in the entirety of the UNSC, "If you are questioning whether I am worried about my Spartans then let me clear the confusion, and say in no uncertain terms that the Spartans are not the ones I am worried for at least physically. What I am worried about are in fact those who you plan to test the Spartans against," I said carefully and respectfully.
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Fun Fact: There has only been one person to cross Admiral Margaret Parangosky and live.
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"Expand," Parangosky said shortly and clearly.
"Admiral, you can't seriously be considering that her statement is valid. I have read the files and they are fourteen years old. What could a couple of preteens do to a fireteam of experienced and hardened Orbital Drop Shock Troopers," Ackerson scoffed at the mere notion. I was understandably frustrated at his continued actions to stonewall my project.
"Ackerson," Parangosky said, turning her glare at the Colonel. He immediately shut his mouth and didn't dare look back. We then walked into the observation room set up to watch the test. In front was a one-way mirror peering into the workout room while recording equipment captured the entire scene.
"The Spartans have only had a couple of weeks to begin adjusting to their exponential growth. Simply put they don't know their own strength at this moment, therefore it would be unwise to have them fight anything at this point," I explained keeping it in as simple terms as possible so as to not give away all of my secrets to Ackerson.
"Are you trying to say they would have to hold themselves back to not kill anyone?" Ackerson asked confusedly.
I simply nodded and looked to see Parangosky's reaction. She simply nodded in understanding while turning back to look down into the fitness center, "We shall see," she finally spoke as the door of the workout room opened, sending 5 men in.
I looked to see who had the displeasure of being selected for the test. And to my horror, the literal last person I wanted to take the test stood behind the bench press of his squad leader.
"Oh no," was all I could say before watching the train wreck about to take place.
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(Alpha Pov)
"Who the fuck are these guys?" I asked not expecting an answer as I watched 5 men with the insignia of O.D.S.T. on their shirts stroll into our appointed gym session.
John placed the bar on the rack for sitting up. Judging by his expression he was confused as well, "Hey you aren't supposed to be in here. The UNSC Navy's Studies and Observations Group are only allowed in here at this time," John called out saying in a polite way 'Go fuck yourselves'.
Hearing John mention our unit as our code name almost made me laugh. The UNSC Navy's Studies and Observations Group (UNSC-N SOG) was just a cover-up for the Spartan-II program. We were actually the ones who came up with it during our study on guerilla warfare tactics. During that time we read about the mother of all special forces programs and couldn't pass up the chance to pay homage to our ancestors.
"We got clearance from the admiral besides you two string beans are the only two in here and I bet we could squeeze in," the lead douchebag spoke up in a condescending tone. A pair behind him snickered, while the other two just watched, the commonality in all five of them was an air of arrogance.
"Hey, Dips-" I was about to call their asses out but John placed a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. Between the two of us, John was always the more level-headed one, and didn't take a genius to see or understand that fact. I had been under his command for all these years and respected his calls whether I wanted to or not, unless he said or did some shit that was way out of line then I would have to let him know.
I stopped myself from ripping their fucking heads off and just grumbled to myself. They seemed proud of themselves and their smug looks were starting to get on my last nerve. John got up and started taking off the pin at the end of the bar when we noticed the group had made their way to us. John clenched his hand and turned around to the group, at this point my eye was twitching in annoyance.
We decided to let it slide once more and started to walk away. One of the dumbasses intentionally bumped into John as he was walking over. Once there they didn't even bother changing the weight and instead tried to bench press 600 pounds without a warm-up.
*CRASH*
The man on the bench couldn't press the weight and collapsed under it. As the bar slammed into his chest the side without the pin dipped down and the weights slid off and onto the foot of the lead goon. He yelped in pain as he went to clench his foot, I couldn't help but snort chuckling to myself at the situation they found themselves in.
"Which one of you two mother fuckers took the pin," The dipshit had marched over to us and was now yelling.
John was about to say something but I beat him to it, "Yeah that was me. You dip shits should really pay more attention, I completely forgot I was holding it," I said nonchalantly as the ape was foaming at the mouth.
He seemed like he was about to yell at me some more until a light of realization filled his eyes and he smirked, 'He can think? Honestly, that surprises me, maybe he isn't that much of a dumbass,' I thought as he turned around.
"Hey, we got a smart ass over here!" He called out to his men before turning back to me, "You don't know what we do to smart asses but I suggest you get in that ring over there. Before we make you get in that ring,"
'I take back everything I just said. This guy doesn't even have two brain cells to rub together nevertheless neurons to actually comprehend any idea,' I thought as I stared at him in disbelief, "Your brain must be malfunctioning. If I-" I was about to explain that we would be having burials at sea if I got in that ring. Sadly, for them, the alpha of the pack decided I was just going to make an excuse.
"Save it dumb fuck, you are going to fight us whether you like it or not," he said grabbing my shoulder. I simply nodded and looked at John. Throughout this entire interaction, John kept trying to mediate but to no avail. Yet again John is definitely a good man, I however am not.
As I looked at John I simply smiled and nodded. He in turn gave a sad shrug and mouthed, "Do what you have to do,"
For the second time today, I climbed into the ring.
This time there were four grown men in the other corner, and this time I would be fighting back.
As soon as they all got in the ring beside their leader I rushed forward. In training, we were always told to take initiative and lead the way. The four didn't wait any longer and circled to surround me, the biggest of them stood ahead of me.
I first threw a jab, it was simply an opener to attack, and I made sure to hold back most of my strength…but-
*CRACK*
My eyes widened in astonishment as my fist made contact. Time quite literally slowed down and the goon had no time to react as I unleashed my hit. As my punch collided it didn't stop on the surface and even after holding back my fist continued.
The man's face was drawn in by the hit and I could feel whatever was behind it as my fist crushed bones, stripped tissue, and ruptured organs. I didn't need to check after to know whether or not the man was alive or dead. Because I knew from that feeling alone that he was most certainly dead, and had been killed in an instant by a ha14 year old boy throwing a single punch.
Still, I drew my fist back and watched as the corpse fell to the ground. The man's face had been cratered and actually had been caved in making the structure of his face look like a dented car. One eye socket exploded with blood while the other popped the eye out of its socket. The eye limply hung on his cheek as the optical nerve it was attached to held tightly to the sensory organ like a wire attached to a light.
Once the body fell we all stood unmoving for a moment. Everyone watching and involved with this scuffle was shocked and gaping in disbelief. A premier experienced special forces member just had a 14-year-old boy cave in his skull before he could even react to the fact he was about to get punched.
'I…killed him?' I asked myself unsure about how to process the action. A part of me or rather a voice said that it was wrong, but another voiced that he got what he deserved. I was uncertain which one I should listen to but decided to listen to the second one for now because I was still in combat.
"Y-You fucking killed him," another goon said staggering back for a second. Fear gripped his face until the fight mechanism trained in him showed its face, "I-I'll kill you-you son of a bitch," he dashed forward throwing a wild strike at me.
Time slowed down once again as I strafed beside it, at the same time I counter-strike throwing a hook with my movement. Again my fist connected and it turned his jaw to just upon contact. The feeling of flesh surrounding a broken bone was strange, to say the least, it felt like a gelatinous substance due to the loss of structural integrity.
My strike killed the man as well. The force generated most probably caused substantial internal bleeding in the cranial cavity. This was further supported by his limp body falling.
There was no pause after I killed him instead the remaining two decided to try their hand at taking me down together. The first threw a jab which I caught with my bare hand and crushed by squeezing my grip. The other also tried grabbing me so I dragged the man by his arm into his buddy putting distance between the two of us.
My meat shield fell to the floor due to me throwing him and I evaded a haymaker as I made my way to the sole standing man. I ducked low avoiding his strike and clenched my fist once again before bringing it up in an arc into his chin. My uppercut shot his head back making it seem he had just been in a car crash. A sickening crunch sounded as his head continued to travel backward.
I had snapped his neck with an uppercut. His head hung limply from his shoulders indicating that I had thoroughly destroyed all bones and severed most of not all muscles. Blood began to leak around the corners of the man's mouth indicating internal damage.
I turned around to face my last victim entirely focused on combat and saw him still lying on the ground clutching his hand, "P-Please stop! We are sorry!" He pleaded as I walked towards him.
He brought up his noninjured arm to stop me but I simply kicked it to the side before crushing his radius and Ulna under my boot. From there I straddled on top of his stomach and began to unleash a volley of punches onto his face.
I punched, and punched, and punched. I had fallen into a muscle memory daze gained from training, 'Rule one the mission always comes first. Rule two never fight a fair fight. Rule three engage until all hostiles are neutralized, all casualties are simply numbers. Rule four never lower your guard while in combat. Rule f-'
"Alpha!" I felt a hand grip my shoulder tightly. I almost instinctively grabbed it, snatching it to me before throwing whoever was attached to the hand into a choke. Luckily I checked friend or foe before I did and realized it was John who had snapped me out of my daze.
I then understood what I had been doing as I looked down at…what was left of the man I had slaughtered.
His head had been turned to paste. Bits of hair, brain matter, bone, and muscle covered the floor of the ring and my fists. Fragments of broken glass-like bone had embedded themselves in my bandage-wrapped knuckles. The main color was crimson and black signifying the clotted blood.
I began to stand up but almost slipped on the black slushy clotted blood. Thankfully, John let me grab his arm and gave me an anchor as I walked over the body.
I looked around seeing that the boxing ring was almost entirely covered in a puddle of maroon blood coming from the four bodies. They leaked like broken faucets pooling into the center because of a slight decline going towards the center.
I noticed the leader of the O.D.S.T.'s was nowhere to be seen as me and John lowered ourselves out of the ring. My feet drenched in fluids made a water-logged sound as I placed them on the barren floor. As I walked I noticed crimson boot prints followed me wherever I went.
"…Are you ok Alpha? I know you didn't mean to do that, and those guys deserved it, but are you ok?" John asked worriedly.
"Yeah, I am fine," I responded with tired eyes that did not know whether the statement was true or not.
John stood for a moment analyzing me before sighing, "Let's just go get cleaned up, you are dripping blood all over the place,"
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(Dr. Catherine Halsey Pov)
"I think we have seen enough," the admiral said admiring the scene below. She watched as the pair of my Spartans walked out of the room, one covered in red blood.
I was still recovering from the shock that had been caused by the event that just took place. Most would assume that my shock was caused by the fact that my son just practically murdered three grown men. That would be far from the truth.
I knew that would be the result if any type of physical confrontation took place. It didn't even matter that it was Alpha who was fighting. Had it been any other Spartan-II the outcome would have been the same, hence why I strongly tried to dissuade myself from pursuing this avenue of testing.
No, the reason I was shocked was due to the vitals observed while he was pulverizing four UNSC troopers. Throughout his match besides the initial surprise of how easily he killed the first man, his heart rate remained steady and low. Alpha didn't even break a sweat while he killed them, and this was with him holding back. Furthermore, it seemed the chemicals that marked emotional responses decreased as the fight went on.
It was fascinating, it seemed that those years of training still managed to instill a quasi- 'combat mode' in him as well… My scientific side wanted me to experiment with this finding, by forcing the others into similar situations, but the recently strengthened moral side has swayed me not to.
"Ackerson inform Second-Lieutenant Silva of what has taken place and the fact that four…no make that five will most likely not be rejoining his platoon," The admiral spoke callously issuing an order, "As for Petrosky don't worry about him. In fact allow the possibility of rumors spreading, and lastly get someone to clean the training room," she finished with interest in her eyes still not waning.
"Yes ma'am," Ackerson replied before leaving the room. I couldn't help but notice the look of ambition in his eyes as he departed. I made sure to take note of that and look into a way of monitoring him later.
Finally, the door closed and the admiral turned to me and nodded her head, "Well done Halsey, you managed to deliver on your promise. Seems the trillions we put into this program might actually pay off," she said with an appraising tone.
"Thank you, ma'am," I said, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible.
"I will be in touch. Prepare your Spartans because they will be getting their chance to prove themselves in the coming months," with a warning of what is to come, she turned and then exited the room.
I sighed finally alone in the room and slumped into the nearest chair, "I should probably check on Alpha. Between the surgery experience and this, his psyche is understandably all over the place," I told myself as I closed my eyes leaning back into the chair.
My watch buzzed just as I got cozy. It was most likely a guard contacting me due to Alpha returning how he did. I accepted the call and told all parties involved that I would be there momentarily, acting as though it was the first time I heard such a thing occurring.
Standing up I sighed again massaging my shoulder, "There sure is no rest for the wicked," I said walking towards the Spartan-II barracks.
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That's it next chapter: Operation: Talon.
I don't have much else to say.....
Drop questions if you have them
Have a blessed day and I will See You Star Side!