First off, I do not own any of the existing characters or dialog, however hopefully the original characters I add won't detract from the reading experience, and I hope I can actually do this and make it believable.. Only time will tell!
This story is based on the timeline of the movie, starting about a quarter of the way through the movie and then continuing on afterward until the return of Christopher Johnson and maybe for some time after that.
There may well be large gaps in the timeline between some chapters, hopefully they won't be too jarring, and will make sense.
This story will feature multiple POVs, starting with Christopher's, and others of the "*people*" (prawns, or poleepkwa, I will use "*people*" wherever I can, and I hope it's enough, those with know-how can then replace that keyword with their name of choice).
Much of the dialog in the first 10 or so chapters will be lifted directly from the movie, but there's a lot of internal dialog, thought processes, and behind the scenes stuff not covered in the movie, which is going to be hard to write and make "*real*" to the reader. (I'm not a writer, and it's definitely going to show as you read this!)
I'm hoping that this will be a fairly long story, and hopefully it will be fun to write, and I really hope for you, the reader, to enjoy reading it.
I will certainly be taking massive liberties with the "lore" of the district 9 universe and characters, judging from what I've read, and seen while watching the movie. As of right now, I've not watched the director's commentary, which I guess I really need to do at some point.
The story will start off rated T, but might move to M as the later chapters are added, as there is a lot of violence, gore, and I maybe might even introduce some slash in later chapters. I've really not decided yet!
I may even create several diverging paths through this story, and try my hand at one of those "choose your destiny" books, where you make choices which alter the story! Wont that be fun :D (Though obviously that won't be here, as that's not allowed on this site)
Anyway, here we go. Hope this works out.. waaayyy out of my comfort zone here folks.
First chapter starts out with Christopher and his son, searching the scrapheap for "*people*" tech. Again, the first 10 or so chapters is going to be mostly pulled from the movie, don't hate me, but I need a starting place, and I think that this should work out.
Please, review and leave some feedback. Constructive or not, I think I'll probably need it if I'm to get better at doing this! :D
Chapter 1 - Beginning of the end.
The "prawn" - a demeaning human insult of a name for their race - named by humans "Christopher Johnson" flipped another useless piece of junk away, it wasn't what they needed, he - for want of a better pronoun, being asexual, and therefore sexless - was looking for any items of the "*people*"'s technology. So far he wasn't having much luck today. As with most days, especially in the last few years, their technology was getting harder and harder to come by without getting the attention of the Nigerians or MNU. Any items too small or not being weapons claimed by the Nigerian gangs or MNU was usually to be found buried in the junk littering the district, when it could be found at all.
Most of their technology had been "confiscated", most recently by MNU, them telling the "*people*" that it was for their own safety and protection. In reality, they, and similar organizations, had stolen everything they could find from the "*people*", seemingly hungering for any non-human technology - even though they would quite likely never be able to use any of it without a lot of help from the "*people*", which none would give willingly to the barbaric beings who kept the "*people*" prisoners in the district.
A fellow "*people*", named by the humans "Paul", straightened excitedly, "*Look! I found some!*" he chirped, holding up a black rectangular lump. Christopher squinted at it, it wasn't "*people*" technology, but a human cd player. "*I tell you before...*" Christopher took it from him, and scolded, "*this is human technology, it is useless.*", he waved the player at Paul "*Only our technology contains the fluid.*"
Paul pointed at the cd player in Christopher's hand, "*This is not our technology?*" asked Paul, looking crestfallen and confused, his auxiliary grasping appendages twitching uncertainly.
"*No, it's junk.*" said Christopher, and he dropped the cd player, turning away to paw through some more trash clicking "*Keep looking.*".
Today was proving as frustrating as most, over the years, they had collected as much of their technology as they could find, harvesting the fluid that powered their devices. This fluid, containing a mix of "*people*" dna, and nano-technology created by the "*people*" both powered most of their technology, and prevented other non "*people*" from using their technology against them.
Over the many many generations that the "*people*" had been amongst the stars, many hard lessons had been taught to them, chief of which was not to allow their technology to be used against themselves. Again, and again, they found that the younger species they encountered, most not as technologically advanced as the "*people*", had demonstrated how woefully unprepared, and un-ready they were for contact with the more advanced races in the galaxy at large.
Humans were no different, if anything, they were even less ready than most of the young races discovered by the "*people*". And the last 28 human years of being stuck on this dry dirt ball of a planet had driven home that point, hard!
Christopher's "son", named by the humans "Oliver", scampered towards them, holding a fat cylindrical device, it's blue glow as he held it, and the distinctive markings on it clearly labelled it as "*people*" technology. Oliver held the device out to his father trilling "*I find somthing.*".
"*Yes, this is what we need.*" he clicked to his son as he look the device and stroked Oliver's head, "*Good, little one.*", he then looked at the device in his hand. Hopefully this time, this device would contain enough of the fluid, hopefully this time, enough would be there to refine!
All three of them jumped as gunfire erupted less than a hundred feet away. The Nigerians were driving around the district again, music blaring from their truck as they fired wildly into the air with their automatic rifles and machine guns.
Christopher pulled his son to him, "*Get down.*", his son emitted a startled chirp as he was pulled to his father's side, Christopher then crouched himself, Paul doing so as well, Christopher emitted a low throbbing hum, which calmed his suddenly frightened hatchling.
Hiding behind a hill of old pc parts, trying to keep it between themselves and the Nigerians in their truck, which was swerving around one of the dusty roads, Christopher clutched the device and his son close. /*This time!*/ he thought, /*This time, there will be enough!*/, he would not miss this at all when they were finally able to leave!
In time, the truck receded into the distance, the gunfire dwindling to a muted crackling as the Nigerians moved towards their part of the district.
Slowly, carefully, the trio edged away from the trash pile, keeping a wary watch for more Nigerians on the prowl, or any MNU patrols. However, their section of the district was currently quiet, though they did see some white vehicles slowly making their way closer to their section.
More quickly now, the three walked in the direction of Paul's shack/lab. It was here that they would work on distilling and processing the all important fluid. On the way, Christopher dropped Oliver at their shack, telling the hatchling "*I will be back shortly, stay inside and play.*", before walking with Paul to his shack.
Before entering the shack, they took a careful look around, nothing was close to them, and the area was actually quiet for this time of day. Nervously, they entered the shack cum lab that they had constructed. Passing to the back of the shack, Paul pulled back a spring loaded panel separating the lab from the rest of the shack and entered.
Together the two "*people*" started the setting up and preparing the fluid distillation process, through which they would generate a concentrated version of the fluid. This more concentrated fluid was a more potent form of the nanite/dna mix, delivering much more power, however it was quite difficult to process, and required so much of the diluted fluid to produce even a small amount of the concentrate.
Paul held a funnel connected to the distillation apparatus, a lot of which would look like so much collected junk to any humans who stumbled upon it.
Christopher gingerly unscrewed the device, telling Paul "*Careful. Wait.*", the device was still humming in Christopher's grasp. He gave the ends another turn and there was a click, the humming blipped and stopped, the device came apart. "*There.*"
Clear grey fluid spilled from the device into the funnel held by Paul, draining into the apparatus, parts of which glowed with a blue light. Not for the first time, Paul complained, "*Why must it take so long?*", while a high pitched wail could be heard as the fluid made its way through the various parts of the apparatus internal workings.
"*Because it is very difficult...*" replied Christopher, the fluid crawling around the various plastic and glass tubing of the cobbled together parts on the table, "*... so much can go wrong.*".
It had taken many years of trial and error before this process had been made to work with the meagre resources they had access to, and then, sometimes it still didn't work correctly, either not working at all, or falling apart while processing the fluid, which wasted so much of the precious resource, and time.
In the end, just a single drop of the concentrate was produced this time, falling from a drip nozzle into a puddle of active nanites which sang in a lower note forming fractal patterns while they interfaced with the nanites in the drop, re-enforcing parameters, making the drop even more potent.
The end result passed out of the bottom of the red puddle, a drop of oily black ooze, which fell into a cylinder with a quiet hiss, the warning light on the side of the container blinked green and red while the cylinder integrated the newly re-programmed fero-fluid in the concentrate drop, the newly re-programmed nanites meshing and interfacing with the already programmed fluid in the cylinder. The light stopped blinking, and this time, instead of remaining green, it flashed to blue, and the cylinder closed.
It was ready! "*Twenty years of work.*" stated Christopher, this was good!
"*Our plan is ready now?*" asked Paul, excitement plain in the tone of his clicking voice and stance.