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No matter how many seals are killed by sharks a year, it never seems to be enough :D
Part. 4
Phoenix leaned against the wall of one of the many entrance corridors of The Revolution, one foot planted on the ground and the other flat against the surface behind him, his two hundred pound rifle that fired full metal jacket fifty caliber rounds pointing downwards at an angle in the machine of death's robotic hands.
Phoenix was no human. He was far from it. In fact, the only reason people referred to Phoenix as a he was because of his voice. It was of a medium depth, but had a raspiness to it. It was disturbingly human.
The artificial soldier appeared to be nothing but a man in armor as he assessed the groups of people coming out of the air lock. His helmet was black with two glowing red circles that appeared to be something the man inside would see out of, but was in fact Phoenix's targeting system.
Phoenix's armor could only be removed by machine, and that was a rare occasion. Only for inspection was Phoenix stripped of his protective shell or if he had been heavily damaged, very heavily. The construct had hundreds of millions of tiny nanites inside of him that repaired damage. That, his armor, and the energy shield that it generated around him made Phoenix nearly indestructible.
The creation was stronger than any man, any machine, and any Spartan. This was due to him not being held back by the limits of human flesh. He was also just as fast, smarter, and an expert on everything that would be considered a specialty. However, his agility was less than that of a Spartan, but still surpassed that of a human.
Phoenix was invisible on radar, highly resistant to heat, shock trauma, and he had incredibly advanced heating and cooling systems in his inner works that kept him at a constant, stable temperature. Now he may have been resistant to heat, but plasma was a different story. That he was still vulnerable to, as his armor and chassis was made of reinforced Grade-A titanium. Bullets were borderline useless against him. The only things man made that was worth shooting at him was a Spartan laser or a tank shell.
The construct was basically an AI in a shell. He was something to be feared. If he were to go rampant without warning, which sometimes happened with faulty AIs, he would go on a psychotic killing spree. He had a longer lifespan than other AIs, but only because he wasn't quite as fast thinking and genius as other smart AIs.
Phoenix had a downside. He was unruly, rude, resistant to command, and reckless. That was why he was barred from the military. In the end, he was of little value to humanity, nothing but a furnace burning up money. "We ought to deactivate you." Michael Auburn stated matter of factly, keeping his eyes on the people entering the ship in groups from the airlock.
"I ought to tear your head off, but do I?" Phoenix retorted.
"All someone has to do is hit you with an EMP and you're fried," Michael crossed his arms, his blue dress shirt making a silent scratching noise, "We have a signal that will turn your nanites against you, causing them to tear you apart from the inside out, so get off your damn high horse."
"I'm not afraid of you." Phoenix growled.
Michael sighed. "And this is why the military doesn't use you."
Phoenix was checking his database of the ship's employees as they walked by. His targeting system beeped and presented a red square in his vision on the head of a brown haired man. "Freeze!" Phoenix shouted, lifting his massive rifle to the man's face, causing him to back up and flatten against the wall. The rest of the people of that group were frozen in fear.
The man against the wall was shaking in fear as he stared at the black hole that was the barrel of Phoenix's rifle. "Wh-what did I do?"
"You aren't an employee, what are you doing aboard my ship?"
"Your ship?" Michael intervened, stepping forward, "Are you an employee?" The gentleman asked the terrified victim.
"Y-yes," The man stuttered, "My name is James, James Miller."
"Well, according to my friend here you aren't on the database."
"I'm new, kind of a spontaneous contract."
"You still should be," Michael pulled the data pad out of his pocket, and opened it up to the employee roster. He tapped in James Miller, and a picture along with a position appeared, "Looks like someone forgot to update you Phoenix. My apologies Mr. Miller." Michael turned to Phoenix, who was still pointing his gun at James. "Phoenix, are you even supposed to be here?"
"Am I supposed to be anywhere?" Phoenix retorted disrespectfully.
"I swear I'm going to have you dismantled and thrown into the scrap metal pile. If you don't get out of here I'm going to have you removed from that shell you call your body for a month. You know I'm not bluffing." Michael won, and Phoenix strutted off in anger, slamming his fist against the titanium wall and denting as to show Michael that he didn't own him.
James examined Michael, who had maybe just saved his life. He short cut brown hair and the formal way he was dressed made him seem like a man who was responsible and together. He seemed like he would make a good friend. "Thanks. I thought I was dead for a moment. The way you talked to him, is he a robot?"
"Well, no. He's an AI in a combat chassis reinforced with armor plating and a shield system. He might sound valuable, but he's just a pile of junk. He's useless really, with that attitude of his. Again I do apologize," The last group of people walked by, "Please let me show you to your room." Michael proposed, taking a quick glance at his data pad.
"That would be great actually. I have no idea where I am meant to be." James just wanted to sleep. The long wait on the line and then the harassment by the AI made for a bad day.
"Alright then, follow me," James obliged, and as they walked his host began to dispense information about the ship and his new job, "This ship is incredible. It has a shielding system, and a hybrid weapon system of both human and Covenant technology. It's truly an honor to be aboard it, however unsafe."
"Why is this thing so secretive?"
"That question will be answered in time. For now I just have to tell you a few regulations," The two turned a corner, "You are not to discuss your work with anyone outside of your department. As there is no time in space, we have a shipboard clock. The curfew is twelve unless the head of your department tells you otherwise. Stay on your deck of the ship. This vessel has two thousand passengers. All the boarding's tubes in the terminal were hooked to this ship. We really need to keep everyone where they should be. Each deck has everything you will need. Now, as for sexua1 relationships, they are permitted among your collogues, but not your superiors. As for supplies for such excursions, you can find everything you need in the medical bay. Please, please be responsible."
The two stepped into a large grav-lift, something that James had never even seen. He stared upwards as it lifted him and his mentor to the deck James would be staying on. "Is that all?" He asked with less than half of his attention.
"Yes, except our defense protocol. In the event that our ship gets boarded, we do not destroy the information. If they die, the researchers take arms and do finish the job."
"And if we can't?" James asked, worry obvious in his voice.
"We self destruct. The ship has no escape pods, we can't risk anyone being caught and interrogated. Just so you know I didn't make these rules." Michael's final sentence hinted that he may as well have an interest in being friends with James.
"No escape pods?" James asked as his face went pale, suddenly regretting boarding the ship.
The grav-lift stopped, and the two stepped out. "Unfortunately n-"There was a loud clank, and Michael noticed the terrified look on James' face, "Don't worry, that was just the ship disconnecting from the boarding tubes." Michael slapped his hand on a metal door. "This is you."
James slowly pressed his hand against a greed panel, and with a beep the door slid open. "Thanks." He said quietly.
Michael patted James on the shoulder. "Sure thing. Work starts at seven. There's a data pad in there for you that will tell you where everything is. Work starts at seven, shipboard time." With a smile the man turned and walked away.
James stepped into his room, quickly turning his head back as the door slid shut. He looked around his room. It was very bland. A small metal framed bed with a nightstand on the right side, a dresser that was indented into the left wall, and a wooden desk on the opposite wall with a laptop and swivel chair.
James spotted the data pad on his desk, and picked it up. Flipping it open his job description appeared automatically. At the top was a heart sinking text.
Parasetic Research Department. Virus Q-34 [The Flood]