A drifter. Drifting through time and space, without a certain course or destination. At least that was, what he felt, in his dreams. Drifting a couple of yards below the sea, the deep blue sea, no gravity, no direction, no sound, no worries, just drifting. But suddenly a kind of disturbance bothers the drifter. A sudden current, dragging him to the surface. Strange, blurred noises, coming from above. Something disturbed the harmony, the easiness, and he knew at once, that something was not right. He could feel it right away, but did he really want to bother with it?
But then, something took over. A lifetime of military training resulted in conscientiousness. So the drifter took a few strokes towards the surface and all in a sudden, the strange noise became a clear message .... "...onel report immediately to stations. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill. All security personel...". And he knew at once, that something was fucked up pretty bad. Waking up in about three seconds, Alan Reynolds needed another three seconds to realize, what the situation was. Laying in his bed, alone, the monoton warning message, repeated in an indefinet loop, the warning lights flashing. Another three seconds later, he was awake, full aware of his surroundings. No blue sea ocean anymore, but the cold, unpersonal, clinical-like surrounding of his small personal cabin, and that damned, hatred insignia of the Weyland-Yutani company, staring down on him from the top.
That was not suprising, being in a top-secret WY research facility, nearly everything had this logo, even the toilet paper. Not long ago, when he woke up in similar circumstances, the insignia of the United States Colonial Marines greeted him. But things took a slightely different course, than planned and sometimes, just one decision could change everything drastically. One fuckin decision.
So did his to knock-out his platoon leader. The "i-just-graduated-from-officer-training-and-know-everything-better" type of platoon leader, you know. After the later messed up and made bad decisions in a liquid situation, three of his closest buddies bought it and there was nothing he could do to bring them back. Worse still, he could have saved them, maybe, if he would have knocked the LT out, before it was too late. So he fucked it up, too. Bad decisions on a bad day. Of course, he was charged for striking a superior officer and found guilty. Of course, it did not matter, that he saved the rest of the platoon after taking over. Of course it did matter, that the LT was the son of a general. Game over, man.
But didn't create bad decisions the best memories? Well, at least not for Alan, because he was a damned proud marine, proud of wearing the uniform, proud of rising up to the rank of platoon sergeant by dedication, devotion and hard work. There was not much left, after he was dishonorable discharged. Nothin left, but to make decisions, new ones. Should he took up the lucrative job offer and become part of a private military contractor team for WY? Weyland-Fuckin-Yutani, this shitpile of a company, which had clearly this kind of history with the USCM. But did he really had a choice? He needed the money, and they would pay him a lot. But it was not the need for money, it was instinct. As soon as he had this job offer, he knew, there was more about it.
Maybe a second chance? Maybe he could undig some secrets, find some clues, unconver anything, he may be in a position to redeem himself. And what place in universe would be better for that purpose than a top-secret WY research facility?
He jumped out of bed, ran to his locker across the small room, opened the door by pressing his thumb on the scanner and only then realised, that something was provisionally stripped to the front door. Because of the sudden movement, it felt to the ground. He looked down and to his surprise it was an envelope. He grabbed it and saw at once, that it was adressed to him by Megan. Curiosity fought a brief inner battle with conscientiousness. The later won. So he started to dress up.
Megan Clarke, that cold, aloof, dispassionate blonde, slender very good looking woman, and head of the WY-science staff, by the way. It was instant crush. She must have left in the middle of the night and continued her work. It all started with mutual attraction due to contrasting personality. At the beginning, they had just this sex thing. Megan never spoke of her work, but it was obvious, that she was under immense pressure. And this pressure had to be released, in some way, and Alan was this kind of handsome guy, who pressed the right buttons. But after a while, there was something else, something different, something exciting. A kind of ressonance, he had never felt before. And Megan felt it, too. A few days ago, she confessed, that she never felt better and she used a word, that he had not heard for a long time. Love. Sometimes bad things lead to good ones, and that was exactly that.
Of course contract clauses forbid to speak about her work, but they were together for more than ten months now, and sometimes the pressure was too great, and she needed someone to talk, so he knew, that Megan was working on "ground-breaking biological weapons research" in the "Inner Sanctum". Thats what they called the inner area of the research facility, which was a top-top secret facility within a top-secret facility. Even Alan was not allowed to get inside. WY combat droids and an artificial intelligence provided security in the Inner Sanctum, so there was no chance to get some information about what was going on inside by spending the right amount of beer to the annoyed security guy.
He jumped into his clothing in a hurry, and put the envelope inside his trouser pocket. Right after getting into his combat fatigue, he equiped his body armor. Private military contracts may be the worst scum of the galaxy, but one can't deny that their equipment is top-notch. Take the personal body armor for example. It looks like the M3 Pattern Personal Armor, but it is approximately twice as good, because it weights less and endures more. As soon as the armor was fitted, the personal data transmitter started to do its work and sent information about his physical condition and status to the security central. Now, the guy in charge would know, that Alan was online and ready soon. After the armor came his sidearm, combat knife, assault rifle, grenades and ammunition.
The last part was his helmet. Also a very nice pice of tech. Camera, which was connected to the security central, head up display integrated, which displayed certain status-information about his rifle and could be used to swith to infra-red or ultra-violett light spectrum. And it was a good decision to equip it after equipping everything else, because as soon as he activated the communication, the voice of this anyoing guy of the security central came through. Alan ran out of his room, turned left and ran to the end of the corridor, where the access to the stairs was. He had to take those, because elevators should be off-line in case of any security alert in the outer area.
"Tango 2-3, do you read me? Do you read me, Reynolds? Over"
"This is Tango 2-3, moving into position. Over"
While running, he checked the HUD-status information of his assault rifle and loaded it.
"Tango 2-3, go to elevator 3, get down to sub-level 15. We have a security breach in the inner area only, so elevators are still workin, at least for the moment. Combat droids were activated by Godfather five minutes ago."
"Copy that, i am taking number three"
Godfather was the name of the Artifical Intelligence of this facility and clearly, as the latin saying "Omen est Nomen" the AI was in complete control of the Inner Sanctum. So he took not the stairs, but elevator 3. It would be a short ride to sub-level 15, but all of a sudden, he remembered. He pulled out the envelope, opened it and read through the hand written lines ...
"Honey-Bunny, i wanted to tell you something, but i did not find the right moment or the right words for it, so please excuse me for writing it. Something changed. Everything changed, because i .... i am pregnant. I am looking forward to see you after this night shift, because we have a kind of final experiment goin on and if everything wents right, i might be done soon here and then we could ... move to some better place. I love you, Meg"
Alan was a tough guy, but while reading this, he could not help, but cry for a short period of time. This were the best worst news, he could get in this situation. Megan was inside and he was outside and something happend inside and she is pregnant. Clearly, import decisions had to be made soon.
Fan fiction written by our members.
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