Untitled 1/?bombsreverseJune 13 2010, 07:06:40 UTC
So, please ignore the title, it's kind of late and I couldn't think of anything suitable. I don't know how much longer it will be past this but I thought that I would share what I have so far. Also, kindly ignore any and all typos.
Hope you like it :)
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He wakes up with fuzzy vision, surrounded by white light and the first thing through his head is fuck... as he slams his eyes closed again against the harsh light. Then his mind wakes up and starts to race to the one place he wishes it wouldn’t as his heart beat spikes, the resounding pings sounding on the machine above him. What if UAC found him and brought him back in for observation and experimentation, it’s not like they’re above human test subjects.
He calms his breathing and tries to take stock of his surroundings without opening his eyes, mentally planning an escape without route. He can feel the tug of tape on the back of his hand that feeds him an IV, the tug of the heart monitors affixed to his chest (they’re gonna be a bitch once they go off), there is a weight on the bed near his thigh.
Sinking down into his senses he takes a deep breathe through his nose and listens intently, the sharp pang of antiseptic tells him he’s in a medical setting, the weight on his bed is a person and if it’s not them than there is at least one other person nearby if the smell of sweat/fear/hours old cologne is anything to go by. About fifty feet to his left he can hear the swish of a door as it slides and the footfalls of at least three other people in the large room.
He slits his eyes open and looks around, dark walls with screens inset that read off vital signs of the patients in the beds. Two women by the door in blue, a man in red underneath the bed across from his, hands buried in wiring. When he sees the blonde head by his thigh he instinctually thinks ‘Sam’ but then the broad, gold clad shoulders and ghost of stubble debunk that. The man is hunched over with his forehead resting on the bed, breathing deep and slow, asleep even though his hand is clenched tightly in the blanket next to his thigh.
Not hard to get out, if he can make it to the bed across the room one of the big wrenches sticking out of Mr. Red Shirt’s bag should work well enough as a weapon until he can get his hand wrapped around a gun, fuck even a scalpel will work if he’s actually in a hospital. Slowly he eases his way sideways on the bed, pausing when the blonde man snuffles in his sleep but stays that way, the heart monitors are apparently wireless as nothing screams when he steps away from the bed without resistance.
He’s across the room before anyone can blink and has his hand wrapped around the reassuring weight of the wrench before the guy notices. He swings it under the bed and into the side of Red Shirt’s head when one of the women turns and faces him.
“Doctor!” The computer she’s holding clatters to the floor in shock and he’s crouching down, baring his teeth. The C24 screeches threat! and he’s trying to figure out how to disable her without killing her (he's not so far gone that he'd intentionally kill a woman) when a man’s voice sounds from the area of his now empty bed.
“Bones!” He spins and snarls, his body identifying another threat even as he registers electric blue eyes that are wide open and staring, a pang of something goes off in the back of his head, but he can’t reflect on it. Not when all his baser instinct are telling him that he’s in a shitty situation with no back up and a growing number of people between him and the door. The guy in gold steps forward with a hand outreached and he raises the wrench higher in warning, another snarl sounding in the back of his throat.
The other man freezes and impossibly blue eyes open even farther as he stares at him. “Bones? Leonard?”
John blinks slowly, clenches his hand tighter around the wrench.
Re: Untitled 1/?bombsreverseJune 14 2010, 23:10:45 UTC
OP here!
This is an amaaaaazing start so far. I especially love the details on Reaper's senses. Reminds us that he's enhanced without just telling us, and it's so much more interesting your way.
Re: Untitled 1/?bombsreverseJune 15 2010, 05:29:15 UTC
Thank you so much :) It's actually getting a lot longer than I originally intended. It's currently sitting at about 2,500 words. Give me a couple more days and it should be completely finished.
Re: Untitled 2a/?bombsreverseJune 22 2010, 03:14:46 UTC
A/N: this is kind of a fill and I apologize for that but I'm working on more :)
----
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” The words are barely out of his mouth when pressure clamps down on his shoulder and his world turns black.
----
John struggles into consciousness an indeterminate amount of time later and immediately tries to jerk up and out of the bed, he’s stopped when the restraints snap taught and he looks down at them. Leather material attached underneath the bed somewhere, they really shouldn’t be a problem. He pulls against them, the leather creaking under the pressure when the chair next to his bed creaks and the blonde man from before leans forward. The restraints aren’t a problem, but the gun-like item the man is levering at him might be. Slowly he relaxes his muscles and lets the restraints fall lax as he watches the other man.
“Who the fuck are you? What have you done with Leonard McCoy?” The blonde’s voice is scratchier than before and his eyes are ringed with red like he’s running on next to nothing.
“My name is John, and I don’t know who McCoy is.” The man leans himself farther forward in the chair and presses something on the gun that makes it whirl, the light changing from green to red and John figures that it’s not a good sign.
“Don’t fuck with me. You look like Bones, your blood work states that you’re Bones, the anomaly is even the same, but you’re not Bones. Now, who the fuck are you?” His lip is curling up in something close to a snarl and the words are tight and clipped. John figures his best bet is to just go with the truth.
“My name is John Grimm; I was a member of the RRTS, code name Reaper, Staff Sergeant Identification 9-5-7-Alpha-4-Charlie. My last official mission was to the Olduvai Research Facility.” The man squints at him and John notes that it was a good choice to go with his military background as the man relaxes minutely. Not enough to move the gun away however.
“How did you get here?” John looks around. He’s still in the hospital but it looks nothing like anything that he’s used to. The beds are suspended in the air and communicating with the screens sunk into the walls that monitor the patients. The walls are smooth and dark, the doors blending almost seamlessly into the walls. An office on the far wall resonates with something in him but he has no clue why.
“Could you tell me where we are and then maybe I can tell you how I got here?” A pale eyebrow climbs into the man’s hairline before he answers.
“You’re in the medical bay of the U.S.S. Enterprise, we’re on the edges of the Neutral Zone.” John can feel his brow furrow. They’re on a ship? It must be massive to have a med bay this size.
“Which continent are we closest to?” The man visibly starts then straightens in his chair.
“What do you mean?”
“Well we’re on a ship right? So which continent are we closest to and I can try to tell you how I got here.”
“We’re in space.” John stills and just barely stops his mouth from dropping open. He does gape however, and when he thinks about floating around space in what essentially amounts to a fucking tin can, a wave of nausea washes over him. The man must sense something in him because he leans back fully in his chair and hits the little button that makes the gun whirl again, the light turning back to green. He stands up and walks to the wall, his fingers move over the screen and John focuses on deep even breaths.
They’re in space.
“Captain.” A voice floats out of the console.
“Spock please give Sulu the conn and make your way to sickbay, I need to speak with you.”
“Yes, Captain.” Answer given the man severs the connection with a vaguely musical chime before he sits back down in the chair, the gun slightly looser in his grip.
“We’re in space?” John’s voice is slightly strangled and he hates that but, really, it’s better than the shakes he can feel his whole body wanting to break out in. He’d tried doing Ark travel again and even made it up in a shuttle 2110, pay mind that he puked all over himself before passing out in his restraints. Space was something that he’d never been able to do again after Olduvai.
Re: Untitled 2b/?bombsreverseJune 22 2010, 03:15:54 UTC
The man nods and turns in his seat when another man enters. The newcomer is in blue standing like he has steel strapped to his backbone, his face is unreadable. Dark hair is cut straight across his forehead, severely slanted eyebrows are quirked in the blonde’s direction and John thinks that he can see the tip of a pointed ear.
“Captain?” The deep voice is flat, conveying absolutely nothing.
“Spock, I need you to look into something for me. This man says that his military rank was Staff Sergeant John ‘Reaper’ Grimm, identification 9-5-7-Alpha-4-Charlie. Please look into this along with the Olduvai mission.” Spock nods and John tries not to be insulted that they’re talking like he’s not in the room. Spock leaves the room and the blonde man turns back to him.
“Look, as much as I like referring to you by your hair colour in my head, it would be nice to know your name.” The man’s grin is a little self-conscious and he suddenly looks years younger as he scrubs a hand across the back of his head.
“Sorry, my name is Jim Kirk, I’m the captain of this star ship.” He stands and pushes the gun into a holster at his hip before pushing his hands into his pockets. “Look-“
“Captain.” Jim stops talking and turns to look at Spock where he stands in the doorway. “May I speak with you for a moment?” Jim nods and shoots an apologetic glance in John’s direction as he moves towards Spock.
John closes his eyes and lets his senses bloom outwards as he listens on the quiet conversation between the two men. Spock is confirming his rank and stating that there is a mention of the Olduvai facility from 2045 but not a lot of information. John opens his eyes when he hears two sets of footsteps coming back into the room, opening his eyes he notes the reserved curiosity in Spock’s and can practically feel it pouring off of Jim in waves.
Jim sits in the chair and leans his elbows onto his knees, scrubbing his hands over his face as Spock moves to stand just behind him and to the left, hand clasped at the small of his back in what John is familiar with as parade rest.
“Look, we’re gonna say that for posterity’s sake that I believe every word coming out of your mouth. You’re connected to Bones and I need to find him. So you’re going to tell me what the Olduvai mission was and then you’re going to bring me up to the last thing that you remember.” He sighs and pinches at the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t leave anything out. I know that there are probably things that you will want to, but there has to be some reason that you’re here.”
John nods, hands flexing as he considers his situation. While he doesn’t want to tell this man everything about his life he knows that it’s his probably his best option. He’s also got this feeling scratching at the back of his mind that feels comfortable with these men, but he still doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I grew up on the Olduvai research facility on Mars, when I was quite young there was a cave in that killed both of my parents. I left when I was in my late teens but my twin, Samantha Grimm, remained. I joined the marines and was eventually moved to the Rapid Response Tactical Squad.” John took a deep breath and focused. “In 2046 we were called back to Olduvai to deal with a breach in security, we were to retrieve information and eliminate the threat. The facility was being run by U.A.C. and they had been experimenting with different weapons since the planet was dead, along with the excavation and testing of the remains of humanoid life forms that had been found.”
“Humanoid?” Spock asks the question and John nods.
“While in many ways they were like the life forms on Earth, they had also developed a genetic modification that made them... more. They had developed and deployed a 24th chromosome that made them super human. Faster, stronger, faster healing, enhanced senses. U.A.C. lapped it up, recreated it. Tested it.” John huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “It wasn’t worth it.”
Jim looks up from his hands and his eyes focus on John as he lets his head fall back against the cushion.
Re: Untitled 2c/?bombsreverseJune 22 2010, 03:16:27 UTC
“For every person that the 24th chromosome enhances, it destroys another. Anyone with violent leanings in their makeup was changed into something else. They were given all of the same enhancements but they changed into monsters, killed anything in their path, and alternately fed on everyone else or if they were wired for it, changed them into monsters as well. They only infected those who were like them.” John takes a shaky breath as he begins to recount the tale for the first time in decades.
“Most of my team was killed before we even retrieved all the information. Everyone on Mars was killed. Three of us and my sister made it back through the Ark into the main facility on Earth and by that time Sarge had already been infected, his solution for containment was to kill everyone. So that’s what happened. He moved from room killing anyone he came across, infected or not, whether they could even accept the gene or not.”
John turns his head and takes in the pale face of the captain where he’s leaning forward in the chair. Spock’s mouth is drawn in a tight line, his eyes hard.
“I made it back too late to stop him, to tell him that not everyone would change into a monster. He killed the youngest member of our team for ‘mutinous insurrection’ when he refused to kill a room full of people that hadn’t been infected. It was his first mission.” John can feel his voice thickening as he talks about Mark; it’s still something that makes his chest ache. “By the time he died there was me, Sam, Sarge, and a facility filled with monsters. I was injured as we tried to eliminate the rest of the infected, Sarge was already turning and Sam was hurt too. I was dying. Sam injected me with the chromosome in the hope that I wouldn’t, and obviously I didn’t.”
John’s arm itched with a phantom pain of the chromosome rushing through his system, binding onto his DNA and he shivered lightly.
“I stalked through the facility and killed the infected that I came across, eventually it came down to me and Sarge. While fighting I managed to send him back through the Ark to the Mars facility and sent an ST grenade through after him. Hopefully it destroyed everything on the other side.”
Spock, if possible, is even tenser and Jim is leaning back in his chair. John’s trying to draw in enough air to fill his lungs but it’s not very successful since it feels like there are steel bands wrapped around his chest.
“What happened after that?” Jim’s voice has an edge of shakiness and John can’t really blame him.
“I brought Sam back with me to the surface, and everyone buried the project. We didn’t mention that I reacted positively to the chromosome and all the information that we obtained stated that humans would react negatively to it. U.A.V. wanted nothing more to do with it and they made sure that Sam and I were effectively gagged before they let us leave the base three months later. They got rid of all evidence of the project and pretended that hundreds of people didn’t die horribly. I left the corps shortly after that; I couldn’t stomach death anymore.” John shakes his head.
Re: Untitled 2d/?bombsreverseJune 22 2010, 03:16:58 UTC
“I was the team medic and really that seemed like a much better option, I couldn’t always stop death but I was using my hands to heal instead of kill. The years slipped by and I watched as Sam moved on, got married, had kids. Fuck, I even had a son, the gene doesn’t pass on. I watched from a distance as he grew old and died, still bitter about a deadbeat, absentee father. Then the years slid by faster and faster, my great-great-grandkids were having their own children and I still look like I’m 28.” Another harsh laugh slips out unbidden and he squeezes his eyes closed.
“I moved around the world, worked on every continent. Last thing I remember I was in Australia teaching at the university in Adelaide and working with a group of students, researchers, and doctors on HIV research. We were pretty close to finding a cure too if they could just pull their heads out of their asses and look at what was in front of them.”
“What date was this?” One of Spock’s eyebrows is climbing into his hairline and John has a feeling that this is as close to an outright look of interest that he’s ever going to get.
“May of 2159. I was Tom Micheals at that point.” Jim barks out a laugh and John startles enough to stare at him, but he’s staring back with a fragile, brittle look in his eyes.
“I have a few theories that I need to look into.” He sighs again and John watches as he rubs at a temple. “But I’m going to remove the restraints-“
“Captain, is that wise?” Spock’s question fills the room and Jim waves him off.
“And put you in the CMO’s office for now, there’s a bed in there. I need you to stay there; I promise that no harm will come to you if you don’t try to do anything stupid.” John’s nodding and Jim’s standing, releasing the restraints around his wrists. John sits up rubbing the slight chafing at the bone as Jim releases the restraints around his ankles.
“Come with me.” Jim motions his forward and John slips off the bed, trailing after the captain through the medical bay and into the office. There’s a desk towards the back wall, a bed pushed up against the front wall, and shelves lining the other ones. John moves past Jim into the room when he stops in the doorway. “I need to lock you in and I ask that you don’t try to get through the codes. I’m placing an enormous amount of trust in you not to try and do anything, so please honour that and trust me.”
John nods and resists the urge to clap the other man on the shoulder.
“Could you tell me one thing?” Jim looks up and nods without hesitation.
“What year is it now?”
“2259. Good night Mr. Grimm.” John’s head lurches and he sinks onto the bed as the door slides closed and a beep signals the locks engaging.
He sinks back onto the pillows and inhales deeply through his nose. Something in the back of his brain shifts into place and the tension building in his chest eases. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the sudden calm before he’s slipping into sleep.
*squirms happily* Oooo. I'm so happy you're filling this. I cannot wait to see where this goes. It's wonderfully done so far. Gah. When John remembers that he's Bones.... Eeep, is I all I have to say to that.
Re: Untitled 2d/?bombsreverseJuly 25 2010, 15:38:42 UTC
There will be more :) It won't be until late August however because I'm in the middle of nowhere for work with access to the internet about once a week for half an hour or so.
Re: Untitled 2d/?dramapunkJuly 25 2010, 18:17:51 UTC
Yay. I am just happy there will be more. Oh dude I have been there before the land of no computer and Internets for work reasons. It seriously brings the suck at times.
Hope you like it :)
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He wakes up with fuzzy vision, surrounded by white light and the first thing through his head is fuck... as he slams his eyes closed again against the harsh light. Then his mind wakes up and starts to race to the one place he wishes it wouldn’t as his heart beat spikes, the resounding pings sounding on the machine above him. What if UAC found him and brought him back in for observation and experimentation, it’s not like they’re above human test subjects.
He calms his breathing and tries to take stock of his surroundings without opening his eyes, mentally planning an escape without route. He can feel the tug of tape on the back of his hand that feeds him an IV, the tug of the heart monitors affixed to his chest (they’re gonna be a bitch once they go off), there is a weight on the bed near his thigh.
Sinking down into his senses he takes a deep breathe through his nose and listens intently, the sharp pang of antiseptic tells him he’s in a medical setting, the weight on his bed is a person and if it’s not them than there is at least one other person nearby if the smell of sweat/fear/hours old cologne is anything to go by. About fifty feet to his left he can hear the swish of a door as it slides and the footfalls of at least three other people in the large room.
He slits his eyes open and looks around, dark walls with screens inset that read off vital signs of the patients in the beds. Two women by the door in blue, a man in red underneath the bed across from his, hands buried in wiring. When he sees the blonde head by his thigh he instinctually thinks ‘Sam’ but then the broad, gold clad shoulders and ghost of stubble debunk that. The man is hunched over with his forehead resting on the bed, breathing deep and slow, asleep even though his hand is clenched tightly in the blanket next to his thigh.
Not hard to get out, if he can make it to the bed across the room one of the big wrenches sticking out of Mr. Red Shirt’s bag should work well enough as a weapon until he can get his hand wrapped around a gun, fuck even a scalpel will work if he’s actually in a hospital. Slowly he eases his way sideways on the bed, pausing when the blonde man snuffles in his sleep but stays that way, the heart monitors are apparently wireless as nothing screams when he steps away from the bed without resistance.
He’s across the room before anyone can blink and has his hand wrapped around the reassuring weight of the wrench before the guy notices. He swings it under the bed and into the side of Red Shirt’s head when one of the women turns and faces him.
“Doctor!” The computer she’s holding clatters to the floor in shock and he’s crouching down, baring his teeth. The C24 screeches threat! and he’s trying to figure out how to disable her without killing her (he's not so far gone that he'd intentionally kill a woman) when a man’s voice sounds from the area of his now empty bed.
“Bones!” He spins and snarls, his body identifying another threat even as he registers electric blue eyes that are wide open and staring, a pang of something goes off in the back of his head, but he can’t reflect on it. Not when all his baser instinct are telling him that he’s in a shitty situation with no back up and a growing number of people between him and the door. The guy in gold steps forward with a hand outreached and he raises the wrench higher in warning, another snarl sounding in the back of his throat.
The other man freezes and impossibly blue eyes open even farther as he stares at him. “Bones? Leonard?”
John blinks slowly, clenches his hand tighter around the wrench.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Reply
This is an amaaaaazing start so far. I especially love the details on Reaper's senses. Reminds us that he's enhanced without just telling us, and it's so much more interesting your way.
Can't wait for more!
Reply
It's actually getting a lot longer than I originally intended. It's currently sitting at about 2,500 words. Give me a couple more days and it should be completely finished.
Reply
----
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” The words are barely out of his mouth when pressure clamps down on his shoulder and his world turns black.
----
John struggles into consciousness an indeterminate amount of time later and immediately tries to jerk up and out of the bed, he’s stopped when the restraints snap taught and he looks down at them. Leather material attached underneath the bed somewhere, they really shouldn’t be a problem. He pulls against them, the leather creaking under the pressure when the chair next to his bed creaks and the blonde man from before leans forward. The restraints aren’t a problem, but the gun-like item the man is levering at him might be. Slowly he relaxes his muscles and lets the restraints fall lax as he watches the other man.
“Who the fuck are you? What have you done with Leonard McCoy?” The blonde’s voice is scratchier than before and his eyes are ringed with red like he’s running on next to nothing.
“My name is John, and I don’t know who McCoy is.” The man leans himself farther forward in the chair and presses something on the gun that makes it whirl, the light changing from green to red and John figures that it’s not a good sign.
“Don’t fuck with me. You look like Bones, your blood work states that you’re Bones, the anomaly is even the same, but you’re not Bones. Now, who the fuck are you?” His lip is curling up in something close to a snarl and the words are tight and clipped. John figures his best bet is to just go with the truth.
“My name is John Grimm; I was a member of the RRTS, code name Reaper, Staff Sergeant Identification 9-5-7-Alpha-4-Charlie. My last official mission was to the Olduvai Research Facility.” The man squints at him and John notes that it was a good choice to go with his military background as the man relaxes minutely. Not enough to move the gun away however.
“How did you get here?” John looks around. He’s still in the hospital but it looks nothing like anything that he’s used to. The beds are suspended in the air and communicating with the screens sunk into the walls that monitor the patients. The walls are smooth and dark, the doors blending almost seamlessly into the walls. An office on the far wall resonates with something in him but he has no clue why.
“Could you tell me where we are and then maybe I can tell you how I got here?” A pale eyebrow climbs into the man’s hairline before he answers.
“You’re in the medical bay of the U.S.S. Enterprise, we’re on the edges of the Neutral Zone.” John can feel his brow furrow. They’re on a ship? It must be massive to have a med bay this size.
“Which continent are we closest to?” The man visibly starts then straightens in his chair.
“What do you mean?”
“Well we’re on a ship right? So which continent are we closest to and I can try to tell you how I got here.”
“We’re in space.” John stills and just barely stops his mouth from dropping open. He does gape however, and when he thinks about floating around space in what essentially amounts to a fucking tin can, a wave of nausea washes over him. The man must sense something in him because he leans back fully in his chair and hits the little button that makes the gun whirl again, the light turning back to green. He stands up and walks to the wall, his fingers move over the screen and John focuses on deep even breaths.
They’re in space.
“Captain.” A voice floats out of the console.
“Spock please give Sulu the conn and make your way to sickbay, I need to speak with you.”
“Yes, Captain.” Answer given the man severs the connection with a vaguely musical chime before he sits back down in the chair, the gun slightly looser in his grip.
“We’re in space?” John’s voice is slightly strangled and he hates that but, really, it’s better than the shakes he can feel his whole body wanting to break out in. He’d tried doing Ark travel again and even made it up in a shuttle 2110, pay mind that he puked all over himself before passing out in his restraints. Space was something that he’d never been able to do again after Olduvai.
Reply
“Captain?” The deep voice is flat, conveying absolutely nothing.
“Spock, I need you to look into something for me. This man says that his military rank was Staff Sergeant John ‘Reaper’ Grimm, identification 9-5-7-Alpha-4-Charlie. Please look into this along with the Olduvai mission.” Spock nods and John tries not to be insulted that they’re talking like he’s not in the room. Spock leaves the room and the blonde man turns back to him.
“Look, as much as I like referring to you by your hair colour in my head, it would be nice to know your name.” The man’s grin is a little self-conscious and he suddenly looks years younger as he scrubs a hand across the back of his head.
“Sorry, my name is Jim Kirk, I’m the captain of this star ship.” He stands and pushes the gun into a holster at his hip before pushing his hands into his pockets. “Look-“
“Captain.” Jim stops talking and turns to look at Spock where he stands in the doorway. “May I speak with you for a moment?” Jim nods and shoots an apologetic glance in John’s direction as he moves towards Spock.
John closes his eyes and lets his senses bloom outwards as he listens on the quiet conversation between the two men. Spock is confirming his rank and stating that there is a mention of the Olduvai facility from 2045 but not a lot of information. John opens his eyes when he hears two sets of footsteps coming back into the room, opening his eyes he notes the reserved curiosity in Spock’s and can practically feel it pouring off of Jim in waves.
Jim sits in the chair and leans his elbows onto his knees, scrubbing his hands over his face as Spock moves to stand just behind him and to the left, hand clasped at the small of his back in what John is familiar with as parade rest.
“Look, we’re gonna say that for posterity’s sake that I believe every word coming out of your mouth. You’re connected to Bones and I need to find him. So you’re going to tell me what the Olduvai mission was and then you’re going to bring me up to the last thing that you remember.” He sighs and pinches at the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t leave anything out. I know that there are probably things that you will want to, but there has to be some reason that you’re here.”
John nods, hands flexing as he considers his situation. While he doesn’t want to tell this man everything about his life he knows that it’s his probably his best option. He’s also got this feeling scratching at the back of his mind that feels comfortable with these men, but he still doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I grew up on the Olduvai research facility on Mars, when I was quite young there was a cave in that killed both of my parents. I left when I was in my late teens but my twin, Samantha Grimm, remained. I joined the marines and was eventually moved to the Rapid Response Tactical Squad.” John took a deep breath and focused. “In 2046 we were called back to Olduvai to deal with a breach in security, we were to retrieve information and eliminate the threat. The facility was being run by U.A.C. and they had been experimenting with different weapons since the planet was dead, along with the excavation and testing of the remains of humanoid life forms that had been found.”
“Humanoid?” Spock asks the question and John nods.
“While in many ways they were like the life forms on Earth, they had also developed a genetic modification that made them... more. They had developed and deployed a 24th chromosome that made them super human. Faster, stronger, faster healing, enhanced senses. U.A.C. lapped it up, recreated it. Tested it.” John huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “It wasn’t worth it.”
Jim looks up from his hands and his eyes focus on John as he lets his head fall back against the cushion.
Reply
“Most of my team was killed before we even retrieved all the information. Everyone on Mars was killed. Three of us and my sister made it back through the Ark into the main facility on Earth and by that time Sarge had already been infected, his solution for containment was to kill everyone. So that’s what happened. He moved from room killing anyone he came across, infected or not, whether they could even accept the gene or not.”
John turns his head and takes in the pale face of the captain where he’s leaning forward in the chair. Spock’s mouth is drawn in a tight line, his eyes hard.
“I made it back too late to stop him, to tell him that not everyone would change into a monster. He killed the youngest member of our team for ‘mutinous insurrection’ when he refused to kill a room full of people that hadn’t been infected. It was his first mission.” John can feel his voice thickening as he talks about Mark; it’s still something that makes his chest ache. “By the time he died there was me, Sam, Sarge, and a facility filled with monsters. I was injured as we tried to eliminate the rest of the infected, Sarge was already turning and Sam was hurt too. I was dying. Sam injected me with the chromosome in the hope that I wouldn’t, and obviously I didn’t.”
John’s arm itched with a phantom pain of the chromosome rushing through his system, binding onto his DNA and he shivered lightly.
“I stalked through the facility and killed the infected that I came across, eventually it came down to me and Sarge. While fighting I managed to send him back through the Ark to the Mars facility and sent an ST grenade through after him. Hopefully it destroyed everything on the other side.”
Spock, if possible, is even tenser and Jim is leaning back in his chair. John’s trying to draw in enough air to fill his lungs but it’s not very successful since it feels like there are steel bands wrapped around his chest.
“What happened after that?” Jim’s voice has an edge of shakiness and John can’t really blame him.
“I brought Sam back with me to the surface, and everyone buried the project. We didn’t mention that I reacted positively to the chromosome and all the information that we obtained stated that humans would react negatively to it. U.A.V. wanted nothing more to do with it and they made sure that Sam and I were effectively gagged before they let us leave the base three months later. They got rid of all evidence of the project and pretended that hundreds of people didn’t die horribly. I left the corps shortly after that; I couldn’t stomach death anymore.” John shakes his head.
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“I moved around the world, worked on every continent. Last thing I remember I was in Australia teaching at the university in Adelaide and working with a group of students, researchers, and doctors on HIV research. We were pretty close to finding a cure too if they could just pull their heads out of their asses and look at what was in front of them.”
“What date was this?” One of Spock’s eyebrows is climbing into his hairline and John has a feeling that this is as close to an outright look of interest that he’s ever going to get.
“May of 2159. I was Tom Micheals at that point.” Jim barks out a laugh and John startles enough to stare at him, but he’s staring back with a fragile, brittle look in his eyes.
“I have a few theories that I need to look into.” He sighs again and John watches as he rubs at a temple. “But I’m going to remove the restraints-“
“Captain, is that wise?” Spock’s question fills the room and Jim waves him off.
“And put you in the CMO’s office for now, there’s a bed in there. I need you to stay there; I promise that no harm will come to you if you don’t try to do anything stupid.” John’s nodding and Jim’s standing, releasing the restraints around his wrists. John sits up rubbing the slight chafing at the bone as Jim releases the restraints around his ankles.
“Come with me.” Jim motions his forward and John slips off the bed, trailing after the captain through the medical bay and into the office. There’s a desk towards the back wall, a bed pushed up against the front wall, and shelves lining the other ones. John moves past Jim into the room when he stops in the doorway. “I need to lock you in and I ask that you don’t try to get through the codes. I’m placing an enormous amount of trust in you not to try and do anything, so please honour that and trust me.”
John nods and resists the urge to clap the other man on the shoulder.
“Could you tell me one thing?” Jim looks up and nods without hesitation.
“What year is it now?”
“2259. Good night Mr. Grimm.” John’s head lurches and he sinks onto the bed as the door slides closed and a beep signals the locks engaging.
He sinks back onto the pillows and inhales deeply through his nose. Something in the back of his brain shifts into place and the tension building in his chest eases. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the sudden calm before he’s slipping into sleep.
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Can't wait for more, hun! ^___^
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... more pls
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It won't be until late August however because I'm in the middle of nowhere for work with access to the internet about once a week for half an hour or so.
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Oh dude I have been there before the land of no computer and Internets for work reasons. It seriously brings the suck at times.
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i have what i want to write planned out but i just can't write it. i promise i'm still working though.
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