• Published 28th Sep 2012
  • 2,438 Views, 81 Comments

Half-Life: Collision - DirtyBlue929



White Canyon and Black Mesa are screwed. Run. Think. Shoot. Live. Pony. (A Half-Life 1 Crossover)

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White Canyon Commute

Half-Life: Collision

By Dirtyblue929

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://LOADING SECURE FILE: WHITE CANYON REPORT
://LOADING...
://LOADING...
://DONE.

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Chapter One: White Canyon Commute

“Good morning, and welcome to the White Canyon Research Facility!”

Phase Ray smiled ever so slightly as the cheery male voice of the announcement system reached her ears, echoing slightly across the cavern she waited in. Leaving the station platform behind her, she stepped into the automated tram with the slightest spring in her step, hooves clanking against the metal floor. She sat down in one of the provided seats, exchanging a quick ‘Hello’ with the disembarking passenger.

“This train is... Inbound to... Sector C Test Labs and Control Facility.”

With a loud creak, the tram began to slide forward on the electrified rail that stretched along the roof of the cavern.

Phase looked back at the station platform, the large metal and concrete wall jetting out slightly from the rock wall, held up by metal supports. All across the walls of the caverns, windows and catwalks could be seen. Many ponies would be in awe of the engineering marvel that was White Canyon, but for Phase, it was just another stop on the transit system.

“Current topside temperature is... Ninety-Eight degrees, with an estimated high of... One hundred and Eight. The White Canyon facility is kept at a pleasant Sixty-Eight degrees at all times. The time now is... 8:47... AM.”

Phase’s cheery attitude quickly turned sour at this.

‘Oh, Celestia, I’m late!’ she screamed in her mind, eyes widening as her yellow coat began to flush red around her face.

‘8:47?! How is that even possible? I checked my clock three times last night!’

Her thoughts were interrupted by another cheery statement from the announcement system.

“Employees are to be reminded that daylight savings time is now in effect.”

Phase’s ears flopped down.

“Daylight... savings?” she repeated to herself, her left eye giving a solitary twitch.

Doctor Phase Ray graduated from Princess Celestia’s Academy for Gifted Unicorns with a PhD in Arcane Studies. She was employed at one of the most prestigious government research facilities in Equestria. Her cutie mark, a Crystal emitting several beams from its core, depicted the process by which large-scale non-magical teleportation experiments were conducted. She played a major role in the planning for all experiments conducted in the Sector C labs, including today’s.

Phase Ray was a genius.

And she had forgotten to set her clock forward one hour.

With a moan of displeasure, she banged her head against the glass of the tram car, sending a jolt of pain up her horn in the process.

“If your intended destination is a high security sector beyond Area 1, please have your identification and security clearance card readily available, or you may be escorted to security for processing.”

‘It’s going to be a long day.’

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://LOADING SECURE FILE: BLACK MESA REPORT
://LOADING...
://LOADING...
://DONE.

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Chapter One: Black Mesa Inbound

Normally, Officer Galloway was more enthusiastic about mornings- assuming he got his coffee, of course. But when 8:30 had come and gone, and Gordon had still failed to show up for the morning’s test, he was beginning to have doubts about the day ahead of him.

He looked out through the tunnels of the Black Mesa Transit System, hoping the next carriage would arrive soon. The science team was already antsy, and Doctor Magnusson was always looking for an excuse to blow up at the rank-and-file. If Gordon didn’t show up soon, that anger would eventually be directed towards the Security personnel. And Galloway did not like being yelled at.

He glanced at his watch. 8:47. Gordon was over half an hour late now.

Trying to distract himself, he let his thoughts wander. Richards was hosting poker night later that day. That would be fun.

… And now, all he could think about was if Gordon would be late for that, too.

Calhoun still owed him a beer from that bet they made on the hazard course.

… And he owed Gordon a beer, too.

Galloway sighed and leaned his back against the wall.

‘It’s gonna be a long shift.’

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[WHITE CANYON]

“A reminder to all security staff: Pegasus and Gryphon flight drills will begin at... 2:30... PM. Remember, in the event of an emergency, flight-capable staff are White Canyon Security’s first responders.”

Phase sighed as she stared out the window at the concrete and metal walls of the transit system, the rough-hewn caverns of Sector E having disappeared long ago. She absentmindedly produced a small brush from her purse, undoing the bun her brown mane was tied in and telekinetically straightening her hair.

Below her, the White Canyon Facility was abuzz with activity as usual. Scientists commuted between labs, discussing the results of their latest tests and bad-mouthing their rivals. Maintenance crew rushed to the site of the latest equipment failure, most likely a broken vending machine. Security officers absentmindedly patrolled, content to stand around and look pretty, as usual.

“Do you have a friend or relative looking for employment? The White Canyon Research Facility is currently hiring ponies or gryphons with experience in the fields of... Biological Engineering... Thaumatic Engineering... and... Theoretical Physics.”

Phase put her brush away and began to redo her bun, attempting to tune out the PA system’s voice. It had never bothered her before, but after learning she was nearly and hour late for the day’s experiment, she found it harder and harder not to be annoyed by the system’s cheery tone.

The tram came to a stop in front of a large, circular blast door. Glancing to the left, Phase caught sight of a security officer sitting at a control panel. The officer was light brown Gryphon in a blue uniform, with a reinforced bulletproof vest over his chest, underside, and back. For some reason, he was paying no attention to the tram passenger waiting patiently for him to open the doors.

‘What in Equestria is taking him so long?’

Phase took a closer look at him, squinting to see what he was doing.

‘Wait, is that... BY LUNA’S MANE!’

Evidently, the officer had lost himself in an... interesting magazine. He briefly looked up, then, noticing Phase’s shocked stare, he threw his ‘reading’ material down, hurriedly operating the control panel.

The blast door hissed open, splitting in half and sliding into the wall. One nervous glance towards Phase Ray and a worried salute later, the officer sent the tram on its way once more, praying that his precious Playcolt stash would not be put in danger by the events.

“Reminder to all security staff: Colonel Redwing of the Gryphon Commandos will be visiting the White Canyon facility this coming... saturday... for his monthly inspection.”

All of a sudden, Phase was glad to have the PA system distracting her again.

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[BLACK MESA]

‘83 bottles of beer on the wall, 83 bottles of beer...’

Galloway whistled along to the chant in his mind, bored out of his skull waiting.

‘Take one down, pass it around, 82 bottles of beer on the wall...’

He sighed. Contrary to his ‘initial hypothesis’, as the geeks would put it, the campfire song was not making time progress any faster.

“Maybe I should just tell ‘em Gordon isn’t coming,” he wondered aloud to himself, “Save me a lot of standing around.”

The image of an angry Doctor Magnusson in his mind dispelled that idea.

Suddenly, Galloway became aware of a clanking and whirring in the distance. A smile grew on his face. A tram was coming in for a stop, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was being ridden by none other than...

‘Gordon!’

Galloway made his way to the tram platform, adjusting his tie slightly.

‘Freakin’ finally...’

“Morning Doctor Freeman!” he called out, giving a wave, “Looks like you’re runnin’ late.”

A sigh and a roll of the eyes was all he received from the quiet scientist, but Galloway didn’t mind. He knew that Gordon would be taking the brunt of the science team’s frustration now that he was here. Unlocking the tram car, he and Gordon walked side-by-side back to the airlock.

“Y’know, Calhoun’s been pretty scarce around these parts,” Galloway said, hoping to start a conversation, “Heh, guess his bar tab finally caught up with him.”

“Figures,” Freeman stated simply, arms crossed, returning the discussion to its state of awkward silence.

Galloway punched in the code to the Sector C airlock, before turning and giving a nod to his friend.

“Knock ‘em dead, Gordon,” he grinned, nodding to the airlock.

Gordon gave a curt nod and the slightest of smiles in response, before walking off.

“Hey, catch me later!” Galloway called out after him, “You, me, and Calhoun can all go out and get that beer he owes ya.”

The airlock shut behind Doctor Freeman, who gave no audible response.

Galloway’s enthusiasm faded. In his anxiousness to see Gordon arrive, he had forgotten how boring the guy could be.

Quietly, he leaned against the railing of the platform and sighed for what must have been the hundredth time that day.

‘... 82 bottles of beer on the wall, 82 bottles of beer...’