First War

by David Allen

Part One of Three

Jack Morning has always been a terrible sight. The blackened sun lifting it's wretched visage above to scorched and shattered horizon has never brought anything but sadness into my bones. Some speak of a day when the sun shone in brilliant streaks of red and orange, when the horizon was and endless expanse of green rolling hills and gorgeous mountains. To me, this is a fable. A myth. A lie.

The sun that hangs high in the sky each day is a black dead thing. A diseased creature gasping for air. A reminder of the First War.

I do not like to think on such things, but there are times when my mind reels under it's own accord. There are times when a man cannot help but recall the terrors of his past. This is the way it is these sad days. Men stroll sadly down the split pavement, their faces lit in sorrow. Each and everyone one of us is plagued with his own personal nightmare. His own hidden madness.

The First War came with such a suddenness that few can recall what life was life beforehand. The memories of the War itself outweigh and blot out anything that might have taken place before. I remember only as far back as the first few minutes of the War. That is where my mind stops. As though it is afraid to remember anything other than terror and pain…

I cannot forget those first few moments. Although I have no idea where I was or what I might have been doing when it happened, I recall ever scrap of detail from those first few seconds. I remember the initial explosion, the ground shaking with more violence than Hades itself, tossing me into the air with ease. I can still feel the air going from cool to scalding hot in a split second, burning and singeing my entire body. The debris slamming into me from all directions, blood oozing and gushing from dozens of fresh wounds. All of this took place in less than five seconds, as I tumbled blindly through the air.

There was a sudden thud, something solid and heavy struck me squarely in the forehead. Consciousness slipped away and blackness swept in from all directions.

The next thing I remember was pure agony. My entire body pulsed with pain. The pain was so great that I could not tell where it came from. My arms could have been torn to shreds, my intestines could have been spilled out in a pool by my side and I would have never known. All I knew was pain, in no specific place, simply pure undiluted pain.

I spent nearly thirty seconds in such agony before the world turned black again.

****

"Need a drink, Jack?" The voice belonged to Angus. He was a ragged young man from one of the many great cities that earth once housed. He stared at me soberly, offering a filthy cup filled with equally filthy liquid.

I glanced at the beverage and winced. "Sure…" These days you couldn't say no without seriously offending someone. Possession of any food or commodity was so rare that an offering of such a thing was to be treated with utmost respect.

I took the cup from Angus and downed the thick liquid in one swallow. It was a wretched and disgusting brew… Water. Filth ridden water. We had nothing clean, nothing distilled or even relatively clear these days. All water was thick and dirty. A few years ago, such a beverage would certainly have caused me to wretch, but I had grown used to it.

"More?" Angus asked.

I shook my head, though it was wrong to refuse a man's gift, it was completely cruel to drain him of his resources. One did not take more than he needed. "I'll be all right, Angus." I replied, "There's still some water in my personal stores." This was borderline truth. I had barely enough water to make it through the next day, but it would have to do. I would simply have to make the journey east to refill my stores. Several miles east there lay a churning lake of murky water. Every settlement for miles used the lake for it's water.

Angus read my mind and shook his head, "I hear the lake has been drained."

That was not possible… "Drained? I was there just last week…"

"As was I." Angus muttered. "It was the Army."

The Army. He had no need to bring into further detail. I understood the situation entirely. Our proud space faring Army occasionally swept down to the planet's surface to collect resources. The water would be decontaminated and fit for a king before any of us even realized it was gone. Every man on the surface despised the Army. They claimed to fight for the people of earth, yet they did nothing to ensure our survival. They sat from the lofty perches of their space stations and battleships dining and draining goblets of crystal clear water while we struggled to make it through the next day. I wondered whether the Army even bothered to fight the enemy anymore.

The wretched enemy. None of us 'ground-huggers' had ever laid eyes on an enemy warrior. To us they were but another story. They were the ones responsible for pounding earth to ashes, yet not one of them had ever set foot on the planet. If they wanted it so badly why did they destroy it? Why didn't they just land and take it from us?

I would never know the answer to these questions. The Army never recruited. It had it's own overflowing population in the space stations above to pick from. Each man and woman trained from birth to take his or her seat in a fighter or at the console of a mother ship. There was no room for my species in this war. We were merely the victims. The maggots that happened to be squirming around on the grand prize. Whoever won the war would have to exterminate or relocate us… Depending on the victor, of course… Not that it gave me any hope. For all I knew, the Army was fighting for the right to crush the ground-huggers beneath it's mighty heal.

"Well Angus," I growled, "I suppose I will take that second glass…"

****

Nightfall always brought the worst conditions down on our heads. Bitter cold wind and freezing pellets of rain were our constant bed time companions. Nature was dead, yet it's dark and angry ghost never seemed to grow tired of haunting us. The only thing that kept the entire planet from turning to ice, was the earth's molten core. The heat warmed the crust significantly, but we could not ignore the harsh conditions that the sky poured down upon us. Survival was barely plausible.

The weak had died early on. Women and children for the most part. Only the strong remained. Not that I have ever considered myself strong, I feel the cold threatening my very existence each night. It still amazes me that I have the strength to endure these conditions. Each morning I find myself wondering how I made it through the night.

There were towns. Insignificant to anyone but us. Most of these towns were a mere collection of cement slabs and concrete bricks stacked one on top of another to create some sort of refuge. Families were able to make it through the night with their children sleeping safely beneath the warm concrete while nature poured down it's fury through the course of the entire night.

These towns were all that remained of our civilization. Outside of the towns men like Angus and I slept in craters, closer to the core where the subtle heat could keep us alive. Even if barely. We would wrap ourselves in blankets and spend the night shivering, our bodies stretched to the limits. Men like us never settled inside cities; we knew better than to pretend that our dead society would once again rule the earth. When the War was finished we would be removed from earth. Regardless of who won. The Army had no great love for 'ground-huggers.'

Men like Angus and I stayed as far from the cities as we could. City dwellers were prideful and arrogant, thinking that they would rebuild earth. Some even thought that the Army would support their efforts when the War came to a close.

I knew better.

Our very existence was futile. We had all been given one way tickets to eternity. One way or another, we would be wiped away from this dead planet. Sometimes I questioned my motives. Why bother trying to make it through another day? What good will come of my personal survival? I often dismiss such questions without thinking twice. Life is a gift, afterall, shouldn't we at least try to live it? Even if nothing will come of it…

****

Another morning. Another sunrise.

I rose from my bed and glanced at the cracked globe in the sky. The sun was nearly devoid of all energy. Before too long it would die completely, sending us into permanent night and turning the entire world to ice. The molten core would freeze instantly, and we would die slowly.

As a matter of fact, we were all quite lucky to be alive. The sun was not producing enough heat to support us. The waves of heat that struck the planet now, however weak they may have seemed, had left the sun when it still thrived. Each day the heat got a little weaker as the sun's energy dwindled.

"Morning." It was Angus. He stood at the lip of the crater in which I had spent the night. He looked down at me and nodded. "Everyone's moving on."

I was not suprised. The lake was drained, and there was no reason to stay. It was time for me to move along as well. I glanced up at Angus. "Where you heading?"

He shrugged, "There's another lake a few days south of here. I hear the towns in that area are mighty protective of it…" I knew it was an understatement. Some people guarded their water, even if it wasn't rightly theirs, with lethal force. Men like Angus and I had to sneak up to such lakes and steal the water. Death would be the result of a single clumsy step. Of course there was an alternative. If you wanted to drink from a certain town's water supply without worrying about getting clubbed to death, then you simply joined the town. Most towns let men in only through marriage, but you couldn't say for sure until you actually went to the town.

"Is that the nearest lake?" I asked.

"It is. Though I hear there might be one a few days north… But that's a risky trip." Every man knew what lay north. Risky was a serious understatement. Death was almost certain. To the north men roamed the wasteland like beasts, killing anything or anyone that moved and eating the remains. Cannibals might have been a fitting word. I did not think so. Cannibals had enough sanity to recognize that they were eating their own species. These men were completely mad. Not an ounce of sanity coursed through their veins. Some say that they were directly attacked by the enemy and it drove them mad. Others say that they simply went mad on their own. I wasn't in the mood to find out for myself.

Angus crossed his wiry arms and frowned, "You could go to the coast…"

The coast. Only men who were tired of bare survival went to the coast. For at the coast lay an Army base. A launch pad to the stars. It was where the bastards gathered all their resources before sending them to the stars. Some men went to the coast in hopes that they could join the ranks of the Army. Such men were never seen or heard from again. Whether or not they got their wishes, I don't know.

I shivered. "I'll think on it."

****

I wished Angus luck in his journey south. I knew that I would never see him again; he would either die or join the ranks of the town. One way or another, he was gone from my universe forever. I watched as he disappeared behind a heap of rubble.

After he was gone I downed a cup of water and began my journey to the coast. There I would find answers; I cared not whether I died getting them.

I walked for the remainder of the day, stopping only to drink from my meager supply of water. At nightfall I located a heap of concrete and took shelter in the cave-like orifice. I slept more miserably than usual. The cold bit at me with more vengeance than it had in months. Perhaps I was getting weaker. Morning came and I resumed my journey. My stomach growled as I walked, food was sparse. I doubted that I would run into any before my journey ended.

Several days later I came upon a road. It was not like the dirty two-track roads that I was used to. It was smooth and clean, a sure sign that I was well within Army territory. My fate cries out… The words flitted through my head, from whence they had come I had no idea. But they were as familiar as the ground beneath my feet.

I had often suffered from partial memories of my past life. Portions of things said, things I had seen and things I had read. They came out of nowhere, offering shards of comfort. I knew that I had once lived as a man should. It gave me peace to know that my life had not always been such a tragedy.

I turned my gaze down the winding road. The air held a metallic scent; the Army base was undoubtedly near. It was time to make a crucial decision. I could continue my journey by way of the road on which I stood or I could find my way without the road. I chose what seemed to be the easiest, though not the safest route.

I continued my journey down the center of the road.

****

The sun had barely begun to set when I heard the rumbling of an engine ahead. It was the cacophony of an old diesel model, not the soft whispering of a traditional Army issue hover vehicle. I listened for only a moment longer before taking shelter in the ditch.

I waited only a short while as a rusty green pickup truck crawled by. There was a single driver perched in the front seat, wearing civilian clothes. In the bed of the truck, there were several brown crates, most likely loaded with supplies that were bound for another Army base. I sat in the ditch for a few short moments, until the roaring engine was almost out of earshot.

Once back on the road, I picked up my pace, breaking into a steady jog. I needed water badly, and I did not have the time to take a leisurely stroll. The chances were high that there was a lake or a well somewhere near the Army base. And I knew I would be taken care of, one way or another, if they were to capture me.

I had barely been running for five minutes when the Army base was finally in sight. Just along the distant coast, lit up like a Christmas tree in the dying light, and bustling with activity. Trucks, hover craft, fighter ships, transport craft, and shuttles shot back and forth along the skyline. I watched in awe as a supply shuttle shot into the air and disappeared in the clouds.

For a brief moment, I completely forgot my seemingly undying thirst, my aching muscles, and my growling stomach. My mind drifted up into space, up into the cold endless reaches where freedom was impossible to avoid. I wondered what it would feel like to be weightless, floating in between stars, through swirling space anomalies and to vanish in the unending blackness of space.

I brought myself back into reality and glanced around. There was a shimmering lake several yards south of the Army base. I decided to head towards it.

It was a quick walk, I had made a mere four steps when a voice boomed, "Outlander! Do not move! Hands up!"

I looked up and cursed my foolishness. Several feet above me, a patrol craft hung in midair, nearly a dozen guns pointed directly at my head. I complied, placing my hands in the air and dropping to my knees. Anything to make it easier, perhaps my obedience would lead to a quick death… Or maybe a little hospitality.

The air cracked and I shrieked as a bolt of energy struck me from above. A stun weapon… So much for hospitality. I fell face first on the dusty ground, my mind a jumble and my body twitching uncontrollably.

Consciousness slid from my grasp just before the second stun bolt was fired.

****

The air was perforated with the stench of human waste. I did not bother to open my eyes. Instead, I took a mental inventory of my current condition. I found two problems. The first was that my body ached like it never had before. Bones, muscles, and flesh all pulsed in dire pain. I could bare it, though I did not believe I would stay conscious in such a state for very long.

The second problem was a little more extreme. My legs seemed to be gone. Not only was there no feeling below my thighs, but there was a sharp throbbing pain where my knees should have been. For this reason, I decided it would be better to keep my eyes shut. I did not care to see whether or not I had been permanently disabled.

Hours slipped by. I did not move, nor did I care to. All around me I could hear moaning and weeping. It was clear that I had been taken to some sort of prison. And from the rustling and footsteps, it was also clear that there were no cells. We were all stashed away in a warehouse or perhaps a massive basement.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, my mind swirling through the senseless nightmares of a feverish delirium. Reality slowly lost it's foothold. Dreams began to meld with the waking universe, and I found myself floating blindly through a wretched land of agony and madness.

It might have been days. It might have been hours. There is no real way of knowing. It all came to an abrupt end, however, when a pale of ice cold water was suddenly splashed across my face. I snapped into a rigid awareness and forced my eyes open.

The first thing I took note of was the fact that my legs were truly gone. A pair of bloody stumps was all that remained of the once precious extensions. The pain was only slight; the wounds had had time to heal. Perhaps days or weeks. I was not sure.

I turned my attention to the thing standing over me.

It was human… Barely. An Army officer, perhaps even a high ranking one at that. Either way, his affiliation with the Army automatically dropped him below the ranks of a human being. Officers were zombies. No emotion. No thoughts of their own. This much had always been commonly clear.

"You're going to be taken to a processing camp," he said. There was utterly no tone or hint of emotion in his voice.

I could not speak, I only looked from him to the ragged stumps and back again.

"Your legs…" He frowned. Of course, he was already frowning. "They've been removed. We will replace them with a more adequate tool." He saw the fear and confusion in my eyes and simply ignored them. "For security reasons, you will be rendered unconscious for the journey."

I was given no time to react. He methodically drew his pistol, flipped a switch, and squeezed off a round into my head. I went out like a light.

****

My eyes fluttered open. I knew immediately that I should have stayed unconscious. I was sprawled out on an operating table. My arms and torso were firmly bound and moving was impossible. There were at least six doctors around me. At least they appeared to be doctors. Men wearing white robes and latex gloves usually bore the title of doctor. Of course, this was Army territory. These men were most likely mechanics. Undertrained grunts with the task of installing whatever it was they thought fit to replace my legs.

The pain was severe. I let out a short scream and wiggled in my restraints. The doctors all looked up from whatever it was they were doing below my thighs. One of them muttered a curse. "Put him out," he growled.

Something struck me from behind and blackness swept in once again.

****

[There is nothing aside from the will of the Leader.] The voice was smooth and hypnotic. Something about it caused me to relax. I wanted to listen, I wanted to learn… [You are a servant of the Leader. You are his loyal subject. You want nothing, nothing but to serve him. To carry out his wishes. To make his dream a reality. You are happy as long as you do his bidding.]

I smiled. It was wonderful indeed.

[You will feel nothing but what the Leader wishes you to feel. Emotions… Love, hatred, lust… These are all things of the past. You feel only one thing now. Duty.] The voice paused. [Do you feel it, Number 483?]

At the sound of the question my mind was instantly flooded with data. I suddenly knew everything… "Yes." I replied through an eerily mechanical voice.

[Who are you?] The voice asked softly.

"I am Number 483, soldier of the Army. Servant to the Leader." I replied thoughtlessly.

[What is your purpose?]

"To serve. To protect. To carry out His will." I droned.

[Why do you follow his wishes?] It asked gently.

"The Leader has given me new life. New purpose. I would be lost without him." I replied tonelessly. My components clicked and whirred. The small portion of me that was still human remained dormant, only to be utilized for logic and AI. Any other usage of my human half was unauthorized and against the will of the Leader. I could never bring myself to go against his wishes. I was alive… At last.

The data continued to flood in. Details on the true origins of the Army, profiles on each and every loyal soldier of the Army, blueprints for battleships, attack formations and so on. My memory banks were only half finished with the download when the attack came.

It was a violent explosion, all power was instantly lost. My computer brain was instantly plunged into the dim light of backup power. As a result, my human brain came to full consciousness.

I opened my eyes for the first time in what seemed to have been decades.

I was in a warehouse of sorts. The massive building was filled with heavy machinery and technological marvels. I craned my neck to the left and then to the right, from wall to wall all that I could see were men like myself. Each one was a little different, some had mechanical arms while others were equipped with mechanical legs or spider like appendages. I then took the first look at my new body.

Externally, everything was normal above the waist. My legs were gone, replaced by a pair of powerful steel robot legs. At first glance I instantly knew all of my new capabilities and strengths. Even with mere backup power online, I had complete access to my fragmented database. My internal structure had been completely rebuilt. Each and every muscle and bone in my body now had ten times the strength that it had before. I was a killing machine.

The distant sound of gunfire filled the air. The Army base was under attack and it was my duty to protect it. I smiled, my duty differed from my desires. And I had no reason to follow the programming that had been recently installed into my cranium.

The database had not completed it's download, and mentally, I remained a human being for the most part. There was an explosion to the far left. I turned my head and watched as, one by one, the remaining half human prisoners began to self-destruct. The master computer was destroying us before we could get loose; it knew that we had complete control over our faculties…

I stepped forward, several cables snapped loose from my skull. I was disconnected from the network. The self-destruct could no longer affect me. I may have been running on mere emergency power, but I had plenty of juice to make my escape. Perhaps whoever was attacking the base would offer to recharge my cells. Of course, I would probably have to help them finish their little raid… But I did not mind at all.

There was a shout and before I knew it, bullets were soaring past me, missing by only centimeters. Army officers never missed.

I dove for cover and squatted behind a large piece of machinery. "Don't shoot! I'm not with the Army!" My voice sounded mostly human, yet it still held a metallic ring.

A few more bullets whizzed by.

"Cease fire!" someone shouted.

Everything went silent. I listened in as a few men argued over the situation.

"Come out slowly! With your hands on your head!" One of them shouted. "If you do anything, I MEAN ANYTHING threatening, we will shoot!"

I put my hands on my head and stepped out into the open.

There were six of them. They were undoubtedly human and to my suprise they wore Army uniforms. Not the gray and black uniforms that army officers wore currently, but the old fashioned green and mottled brown ones. The ones that were common before the War.

"He's Army…" some one whispered.

I locked eyes with the speaker and growled, "So are you."

A highly decorated man stepped forward, "You will remain silent and come with us for questioning. You're our prisoner now."

"And who might you be?" I asked.

He crossed his arms and sneered, "Admiral Gyles."

Admiral Gyles? My database whirred as it looked up the name. Admiral Jamison Gyles was, according to my files, killed years ago on board a strike cruiser in high orbit.

"You're supposed to be dead." I said calmly.

He shook his head, "My ship went down. A few days later we lost the war. Me and a few survivors from the Army have been fighting the enemy in small skirmishes like this ever since."

"The war is not lost…" I said uncertainly. "And this enemy you fight, it is the Army."

"Afraid not." He replied. "Obviously they haven't finished compiling your databanks. The true Army, the human Army, was eliminated long ago. The Army you see now is none other than the aliens we fought so hard to destroy."

I shook my head in confusion.

"They are in the process of settling the moon; when they are finished they shall terraform earth and set down here as well. Survivors like us," he motioned to his comrades, "are mere pests to them. They will wipe us out soon enough, though."

I opened my mouth to ask another question.

"I must remind you," Gyles said, his voice sharp and angry once more, "You are the prisoner. We haven't enough time to explain everything right now. When we return to base, you shall be evaluated and if they haven't taken your whole mind - which I suspect to be the case - then we shall give you a place amongst our warriors." He unholstered his pistol. "For now you must be cautious and obedient. There isn't a man here that wouldn't like to put a few bullets through your skull." He nodded to the Army insignia that was etched into my robotic legs as if to base his point.

I glanced at his men and nodded. "Let's go then."

Gyles turned to his men, "We haven't much time. They'll have the power up in a matter of minutes. So don't dawdle."

He whirled around and bolted in the direction that they had come from. I followed, all too aware of the fact that there were at least three guns pointed at various points of my skull. One misunderstood step and I would be dead.

We ran through several large corridors before the power came back to life. Several of the soldiers at my flank cursed under their breaths. Yet Gyles did not hesitate; instead, he increased his pace and drew a second pistol from his belt.

And then they were upon us.

They began dropping from the ceiling like insects. Gunfire filled the air, enemy and friendly soldiers went sprawling to the ground. A bullet ricocheted off my leg; I spun around and took hold of the enemy officer who had fired the shot. I tumbled to the ground, his pistols blazing in no particular direction. I slammed my heel down upon his skull and snatched the guns from his lifeless hands.

With speed and skill that I had never before tested, I began taking out enemy soldiers systematically and efficiently. Gyles paused for a moment to acknowledge the fact that my weapons were not pointed at him or his men before he returned to the fray. The battle raged for several minutes and all was silent once more.

Gyles knelt down and placed an explosive charge. He nodded to his men, they quickly dove for cover. "Come on." He growled in my direction.

I followed him around a corner. No sooner was I out of the blast range when he triggered the explosion. Debris and shrapnel spiraled out in all directions. The dust had not yet begun to fall when Gyles grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to where the charge had been set.

There was a ragged hole in the cement, "This is our way home. Follow me closely or you'll never get there." Gyles said.

I nodded and dove in after him. My metallic feet landed with a splash in the mucky sewage water. As we ran, I listened for the footsteps of his men. They were inches behind me.

"Casualty report!" Gyles shouted over his shoulder.

"Migen and Frost are gone, sir!" Came a sharp reply. "Kelmond wounded, nothing serious!"

"It's just a scratch," came a husky female voice.

Gyles nodded to himself. "Nobody stops even for a second until we get back to base! Understood!?"

"YES SIR!" they shouted in one voice.

We ran for several more yards before Gyles made a left turn. The sewage pipe sloped downward, deeper into the filthy darkness. My internal nightvision scopes came to life; though it was dim with the backup power, it provided a much better view.

Gyles skidded to a halt and pounded three times on the right hand wall of the piping. Five seconds later the wall rumbled and slid aside to reveal another passageway. An armed guard saluted Gyles as he darted past. He offered me a frown and stepped back into the shadows. As the last of us came through the passageway, it slid shut once more.

I followed Gyles through the winding tunnels for another ten minutes. Finally, when my power had begun to drop well below nominal levels, we broke into a large cavern. The minute I emerged from the shadows, four heavily armed guards seized me and pulled the pistols from my hands.

Gyles turned around, "He's with me."

They exchanged uncertain glances.

Gyles crossed his arms and locked eyes with each of them one at a time.

The pistols were thrust back into my hands and I was pushed aside.

"Thanks." I muttered to Gyles.

He frowned, "That's where my favors stop. Now let's go. We've got some questioning to take care of."

I nodded. Without thinking twice, I slid the pistols into two internal hostlers that were located just below my knees. They slid into back into the internal workings and vanished from sight.

Gyles raised an eyebrow and began walking on.

I followed him into what appeared to be a computer room. The walls were covered with electronics and machinery. In the very center of the room there was a ragged table surrounds by a dozen tattered chairs. "Take a seat," Gyles ordered.

I sat in the largest chair; it was by far the only one that would support my mechanical frame. Gyles went to the corner of the room and retrieved a pair of thick cables. He brought them over to me and attached one to the power socket on my left leg, and the other to the input port on the back of my neck.

"Now." He said. "We'll get you charged up and upgraded."

"Upgraded?" I asked.

"Yes," he nodded seriously. "Your database is incomplete. We'll fill in the gaps and adjust a few things here and there so that you don't turn on us. You're on the right side of the battle now, my friend."

I nodded in agreement. "All right."

"Now onto the questions." He smiled.

Just as those words left his mouth, three significantly older men strode into the room. They glanced uncertainly at me and then took their seats. Gyles remained standing.

"Meet the last of the true Army commanders." He motioned to the men. "First off we have John Hadley. His ship was shot down in one of the final showdowns; he crashed just south of here. We located him and his troops and brought them in. Colonel Hadley runs a small base due east of here. He's in the neighborhood today," Gyles grinned, "to pick up some supplies."

John Hadley nodded serenely. He was a gray haired man, with a rather grim look in his eye. He had seen one too many deaths. For his apparent old age, however, Hadley seemed to be a rather thick man. Whether it was muscle or fat, I hadn't a clue.

"This man here," Gyles pointed to a rather gaunt bald man who did not appear to have any teeth of his own, "Is Admiral William Jansen. He was commander of a ground station, the very station we just left, before the war was lost. If it weren't for him, we'd of never gotten through the front door."

Jansen locked eyes with me and tilted his head in a half nod.

"And finally we have," he motioned to the last man, "President Frederick Cuft." He paused, "No introduction needed."

The President looked twice his age. It came as no suprise that I had not recognized him when he first entered. He nodded in my direction and looked over to Gyles, "Take a seat Admiral Gyles."

Gyles nodded humbly and pulled up a chair.

"Please tell us your story… Mister…?" Cuft cued.

"My name's Jack." I replied.

"Jack?" Cuft asked, "Have you a last name?"

"I'm not sure… I don't remember anything before the War." I replied grimly. "For all I know, my name isn't even Jack."

All of the men at the table exchanged nervous glances. John Hadley turned to Gyles, "I thought you said he was clean."

Gyles shrugged. "He is. Believe me, he took out nearly a dozen enemy soldiers right before my very eyes."

"Yet he does not have a past? Do you know what that could mean, Admiral?" Hadley growled.

"A little amnesia isn't unusual. Especially for men and women who were earthbound before the War broke out," Gyles explained.

Cuft crossed his arms. "If he turns out to be a Seed… The blame is on your head, Admiral Gyles."

Gyles nodded. "Agreed."

I was given little time to figure out what they were talking about. Before I had the time to think twice, I was asked to explain my story. I started as far back as I remembered, explaining how I came to be a vagabond and how, after the pointlessness of it all set in, I headed toward the nearest Army base to have my questions answered. I went into great detail about waking to find my legs gone, and then being moved somewhere to be operated on. I finally wrapped up the tale with my liberation from the Army facility.

When I finished they all exchanged glances and finally they began discussing my current situation. "Too many gaps. I say we terminate him." Jansen mumbled. "God knows who or what he really is."

Gyles stood up and shook his head, "No. He'll prove to be very useful. You've seen his hardware. We can't pass an asset like this up."

"Sure we can." Jansen shot back. "I'd rather be safe than-"

"I know, I know." Gyles cut in. "You'd rather be safe than sorry. But if he acts up we can take him out. One shot to the head."

Jansen shook his head. "Between the time he acts up and the time it takes for someone to take him out he can do a lot of damage."

"Take it out of my payroll," Gyles mocked. "What have we got to lose? Do you honestly think we have a chance at winning this war?" He rolled his eyes back into his head, "We haven't got a single ship!"

Jansen remained silent for a moment.

"Perhaps we can purge his memory and rebuild him from scratch," Cuft offered. "That would eliminate the chance of him turning on us."

"We don't have the time," Gyles replied.

"Or the equipment," added Hadley. "We could screw it up and he'd go berserk. Much too risky. I say we keep him as is."

"I don't know…" Jansen murmured.

"If he turns on us," Gyles said as-a-matter-a-factly, "I'll kill him myself."

It was done. The room cleared out and I was left alone to recharge and contemplate my future.

****

The very minute the database completed it's download, I looked up any references to the word "Seed."

[SEED (SLANG)::: An extraterrestrials operative that was implanted in human society during first attack on earth. Such operatives appear human in every respect. They are usually inflicted with some form of amnesia; specifically, they cannot recall anything before they were initially placed on earth. They continue a normal human life until the extraterrestrials activate them, at this time, they become very dangerous and take out any human beings within their range.

I was not suprised. It was a very good way of explaining my amnesia, yet I knew that I was not a Seed. I had instinctive recollections of my life before the War. Things came in bits and pieces; it was not a total blackout. I had to be careful who I mentioned my amnesia to. Especially while I was in the service of the Army.

I disconnected the data port and pulled the power cable from my body. It was time to…

"Good evening, Jack," Gyles stood in the door way. "I see that you've completed your download. And I trust that you're all charged up."

I nodded. "Thanks for saving my butt back there."

His eyes darkened. "When I said that I was done giving you favors, I meant it. I saved your sorry little butt because I need you. You're the only chance we have to even make a dent in that Alien Army. Don't let it go to your head though. Even with your help, we'll never win."

"You said that before, Admiral," I replied. "What makes you so sure?"

His eyes locked onto mine, "I just know."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Something in his eyes darkened ever so slightly, almost as though he knew something I didn't. His frown faded and his patted me on the back. "Well let's get you settled in. Familiarize you with the base." He motioned for me to follow.

Home Base

The entire base revolved around the center corridor. The barracks, the kitchen, the mess hall, and even the armory were all accessed through tunnels that branched off from the main room. All in all, the base was suprisingly large. It housed a small but capable army. And in times such as these, the army was rather large.

Gyles brought me from room to room, showing me where to eat, sleep, and spill my bladder. The latter was the worst excuse for a bathroom that I had ever imagined. Even in circumstances such as these, where weeks earlier I had been drinking my own filtered urine, the conditions were terrible.

They were so terrible, in fact, that the tunnel to the bathroom was boarded up and sealed. Gyles brought me only as far as the entrance. "Even the sewers through which we came are a paradise compared to what you are about to see," he growled.

It was an understatement.

I had taken two steps into the bathroom tunnel when I realized that I no longer had the necessary appendages for defecation. In a split second my programming reminded me that unnecessary bodily functions such as that had been removed. Afterall, everything below the waist was thick and complex. And none of it was natural.

I exited the bathroom with a grin on my face.

"What's so funny?" Snapped Gyles.

I shrugged and glanced down at my mechanical lower body.

He stared blankly for a moment, confused and angry. His eyes suddenly grew wide with recognition. "Oh," he muttered.

We moved on to the armory. "Never, under any circumstances, are you to retrieve weaponry from here without written authorization." We stood at the entrance, where two very heavily armed guards stood rigidly.

"And if we are under siege?" I asked.

Gyles glanced at my mechanical legs. "Use those pistols you stashed."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"And," he began, "your secret is safe with me. But don't let anyone else know… You'd be punished severely for carrying unchecked weapons."

I nodded again.

He lead me to the mess hall. It was really just a large cavern with a few tables and chairs lying about. There was another, smaller cave that branched out of the rear wall. Gyles identified it as the kitchen. "Two meals a day. No more." He explained. "If you can make it on one meal, then go right ahead. There's a couple dozen malnourished officers in need of a third helping."

The last stop was the barracks.

"You probably don't need to hear this from me. But be careful in there," he said quietly. "The minute they see your more obvious half, they'll count you an enemy. You'll have to prove yourself to each and everyone one of these boys before they treat you with an ounce of respect."

"I can handle myself, Admiral," I replied.

"I know." He grunted. "No blood no foul. If you have to defend yourself, just remember that. I'm not going to lie. These guys will try pushing you around. Don't lose your temper or you'll be in over your head." He absent mindedly scratched the back of his head. "My advice. Keep quiet until after your first few missions. After that, your actions should speak for themselves… Word will get around that you're really a good guy." He paused and caught hold of my shoulder. "If it doesn't, you'll be hearing from me."

I nodded. "Thanks for the advice."

"Once again," he said, "I'm not doing you any favors. I'm doing it for me."

"Of course."

"Now go make some new friends," he said mockingly.

****

I strode into the barracks and scanned the area carefully. The walls were lined with bunks, most of which were occupied by sleeping or resting soldiers. There were several empty bunks with belongings piled on top of them, and there were a few bunks that looked to be completely void of all human contact. At the very end of the room there was a tunnel that appeared to connect the barracks with a washing room. Sopping wet soldiers garbed in nothing more than towels stepped in and out of the tunnel in a seemingly consistent flow.

I glanced around and noticed that I was being watched very closely by more than a dozen soldiers. Their eyes bored into me with more curiosity than hatred. Gyles had made it sound as though I was going into a prison. Looking around, I saw that it was more like the first day at a new school.

"Hey, Mech."

I turned my head and saw that a young and rather ragged looking soldier was standing beside me. The word 'Mech' was obviously my newly acquired nickname. I did not like it much, but nicknames weren't necessarily insults.

The kid smiled when he saw that my attention was on him. "I'm Riley." He announced. "I was with the Admiral when we busted you out of that warehouse the other day."

"I'm Jack." I said.

"Glad to see you joined up." He said cheerfully. "We could use a guy like you…"

I crossed my arms, not sure how to take his comment.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," Riley explained. "I saw you take down those baddies without breaking a sweat. We need fighters like you. That's all I meant."

I nodded. "Thanks. But it's my programming… I honestly have no idea how to fight."

He shrugged. "So you looking for a bunk? There's a fresh one across from mine…" He offered. "It was Frost's… But he was one of the unfortunate few on our little rescue mission…"

"I don't want to upset anyone…" I said slowly.

He shook his head. "No, don't worry about that. Nobody really knew him. He was just another face in the crowd." He caught sight of the frown that creased my face and quickly added. "No disrespect to Frost or anything. But we don't waste time mourning deaths around here. It happens too often."

"All right." I said. "Take me to it."

He smiled and lead me over to the corner of the cavern. All the bunks were taken, all but one. A half filled garbage bag lay at the foot of the bed. I guessed that Frost's belongings were inside.

Riley saw me staring at the bag and quickly announced, "If you need any blankets or anything, feel free to dig around in there." He paused and shrugged, "It looks like someone beat you to it… But there still might be something useful in there."

"I'll be fine." I said quietly.

"You sure?" He asked. "We don't let nothin' go to waste. I guarantee this bag'll be empty in an hour."

"I'm barely human," I replied. "I don't need blankets or bathrooms or-"

"Or women?" Riley cut in facetiously. "Because here comes one now…"

I followed his gaze and caught sight of a gorgeous woman with tasseled red hair and fiery eyes. Her uniform clung perfectly to her tight shapely body, inspiring my eyes to wander up and down her figure in such a careless manner that I did not realize her angry glare was directed at me until she spoke, "And who do you think you are?" Her voice was thick with hatred.

I blinked, "Me?"

Beside me, Riley turned his head and burst out laughing.

"Yes you," she growled. Then turning to Riley, "Shut your mouth, runt."

He immediately fell silent, holding his laughter back until his face turned beat red.

"I'm Jack…" I offered my hand.

Her eyes narrowed, "What do you think you're doing?"

Riley jumped in, "Oh he's settling in. This is his new bunk." He pointed to the empty bunk behind me.

"That's Frost's bunk," she snapped.

"Frost is dead," he replied tonelessly. "You were there when it happened."

Her anger began to burn into a hot rage. "Frost is dead because of this oaf," she pointed at me, not hiding the utter hatred in her voice. "And you want to give him his bunk?"

All the good humor left Riley's voice, "Frost is dead because of the enemy. Jack didn't kill him and you know it."

She changed the subject. "I'm not sleeping anywhere near this Mech traitor."

It was then that I realized that my bunk was right next to hers. In a normal situation that wouldn't have been such a terrible thing. In fact, it would have been a wonderful gift from above. But this was reality.

"Fine," Riley shouted. "Move to the other end of the room. I could care less." He nodded to me, "Jack could care less… And after seeing the way you behave, I'm sure he would prefer it." He paused and added scornfully, "I know I would."

She locked eyes with him and sneered. "If that's what you want." She turned her back and began snatching up her belongings, exaggerating every movement in a manner that only a female could pull off.

Riley turned to me and smirked. "She'll be back by tomorrow," he whispered.

"I can find another bunk," I insisted.

She straightened up and whirled around. "Oh you can?" Her voice was thick with mockery. "While you're at it, why don't you find another barracks… Or maybe you should just go back to the aliens."

Riley shook his head. "Honestly, Anna, grow up."

She ignored the comment and continued snatching up her belongings.

"She gets like this sometimes…" Riley explained in a hushed voice. "It's a woman thing…"

Anna whirled around, arms full of blankets and clothes, and stormed off to the other end of the barracks. Riley and I watched her hips sway hypnotically as she vanished behind several beefy soldiers.

"Now that," he pointed out, "is a woman."

I nodded.

"She's got a major chemical imbalance or something," he mumbled. "But that makes it more interesting, I suppose." He collapsed in her newly emptied bunk and smiled childishly. "The funny thing is…" he explained, "she pulled the same thing with Frost when he took Miller's bunk. She'd never even spoke to Miller, just like she never spoke to Frost. And she'll probably pull the same stunt after you get iced," He grinned. "Of course, she wont take the time to get to know you before it happens. But for some ridiculous reason, she'll act as though her best friend was killed."

"Does she have any friends?" I asked.

"Just me." Riley said proudly. "I don't think she'd ever admit it."

I sat down on my bunk and clasped my hands together.

"She makes enemies out of everyone. I think she likes the attention," Riley continued.

"How long has she been here?"

Riley shrugged. "Since the beginning…"

I nodded, "Did you know her then?"

"What? Way back at the beginning? No sir, I didn't join up until a few months ago." He stared blankly at the floor. "I know her story…" He paused and looked around. "I don't know if it's completely true. I got bits and pieces from different guys that have been around a while."

I raised my eyebrows.

"She joined up right after the first attack," he explained cautiously, "her and some guy. I've heard it was her boyfriend, and I've heard it was her brother. I don't know which is true… I guess you can pick your preference. Anyways, she came in here with this guy and they joined up with some special ops squad or something. They were all real close, especially her and that guy. Well in case you haven't guessed the ending, they were all killed in a big mess up. I guess one of the guys in her squad sold out to the baddies and lead them right into a big fat trap. She got out alive, but ever since then… Well, you saw the way she was acting." He shrugged. "That's the story."

It made sense. "So she doesn't trust anyone."

"Yep." He sniffed her mattress and grinned. "Well anyways. I've got to get a shower in before the next mission." He climbed to his feet. "We've got real water down here; it's great. So don't be hesitant about using the washroom."

"All right," I said. "I'm going to try taking a nap."

He climbed to his feet, "You sleep?"

"Yes…" I answered hesitantly. "I think so. I haven't tried it."

"Hmm." He muttered. "Well I'll see you in a bit." Without another word, Riley stalked off towards the washroom.

****

Sleep came in tattered pieces. While my human half attempted to rest, my mechanical half dropped to low power. Instead of dreams, my mind began sifting through it's internal databases and programming information. I knew that sleep was no longer a necessity; recharging my energy cells accomplished close to the same thing. But for some reason, it was hard to let go of such habits.

So I continued in my vain attempt to sleep through the static of electronic noise. It was nearly impossible to gain more than five minutes of slumber at a time. Every time a soldier walked past my bunk, my sensors alerted me and a technical readout that was promptly displayed on the insides of my closed eyelids. Every time there was a temperature change, a shift in the breeze or anything of that nature, my sensors picked it up and informed me. I finally gave up completely and opened my eyes.

I sat up and turned my attention to the far end of the room. Several soldiers were jumping to their feet and darting out of the cavern. I heard a few excited shouts. The commotion went on for nearly ten minutes and finally it died down. One by one, the soldiers began drifting back to their bunks.

"Mission duty," Riley grunted.

I nodded without turning. My sensors had picked him up minutes ago when he exited the washroom.

"Everyone's so eager to volunteer," he said as he pulled on his uniform.

"They don't assign missions?" I questioned.

"Well yes they do…" he said. "But they only assign missions to experienced soldiers… And to become experienced you have to survive quite a few volunteer missions." He sat down on his bunk and slid his boots on. "Inexperienced grunts like those guys," he pointed a small cluster of nervous looking soldiers, "are the first to get sent out if the base gets attacked. So obviously, they are pretty eager to gain some experience and rise in the ranks."

"I take it you have a bit of experience under your belt." I commented.

"That's right."

"How many missions have you been on?" I asked.

"Twenty-six," he said proudly. "I've taken out sixty Dupes."

"Dupes?" The term wasn't familiar.

"Yeah, Dupes," he said. "It's what we call the enemy."

"I see."

"Yep," he said. "It's already confusing enough, since they look like us, act like us, and basically pretend to be us. So naturally we have to give them a nickname." He chuckled. "I mean, we can't call them Army. Well, some people do. But man is it confusing. Some dead beat soldier tells me that he iced some Army on his last mission, and the first thing that crosses my mind is that he took out his own boys."

A sharp looking soldier was suddenly standing beside us. "Riley," he said calmly. "Gather up your troop. Gyles needs you boys out there in five minutes. Meet him in the center corridor for your briefing."

Riley nodded, "Yes sir."

The soldier spun on his heel and left the way he had come.

"Wanna join us?" Riley asked. "We're two men short now."

"Sure." I said.

"Good. I'll snatch up the rest of the troop." He stood to his feet. "Go to the center corridor and report to Gyles."

****

"Jack…" Gyles said hesitantly as I approached. "What can I do for you?"

"Riley asked me to come along," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? So I take it things turned out all right in the barracks?" He did not wait for a response. "Well, head over to the armory and select the weapon of your choice." He handed me a sheet of paper. "This is the authorization"

I took the paper, "Yes sir."

"Hurry up," he countered. "We have to act now if this mission is to succeed."

I spun turned and darted over to the armory. The guard scanned the authorization slip and stepped aside without a word.

I entered the cavern expecting to see an impressive arsenal of weaponry. My expectations were shattered, however, for the only weapons visible were relatively small hand guns and a few bulky shot guns. The armory itself was only a tiny cavern with an incredibly low ceiling. I paused briefly and picked up a rather large handgun.

"Great selection," Riley growled from behind me.

I turned and saw that he and three other soldiers had entered the armory. Anna was one of them. She shot me an angry glare and refocused her attention on the weapons.

"Get back out there," Riley whispered. "Gyles is in a hurry."

I slid the hand gun in one of the loops on my belt and exited the cavern. Behind me, the rest of the squad followed, each holding or holstering a weapon of some sort. We had all fell into a straight line directly in front of Gyles and waited for him to speak.

"This mission is top priority," he shouted. "If you fail, we all die. Understood?"

We all shouted "Yes sir!" at the top of our lungs.

"Good," he barked, "You will follow me and do as I say throughout the course of this mission. Our objective is to infiltrate and capture an enemy warship that has landed several yards south of here for repairs." He paused. "It's communications are down and it is cut off from the fleet. We must take out the crew and claim it as our own."

He did not wait for replies or reactions. Instead, he whirled around and darted toward a tunnel that presumably lead to the surface. We followed, matching his pace step for step.

Siege

We ran through the darkened tunnels until Gyles came to an abrupt stop at the foot of an old rusty ladder. At the top of the ladder there was an old manhole cover, sealing off the passage to the surface. Gyles nodded to Riley, who quickly ascended the ladder and pushed the manhole cover aside.

One by one, we scrambled up the ladder and into the night.

The stars shone down on us, illuminating the ragged hills and crater ridden plains. In the distance, just barely within view, lay an brightly lit battle cruiser. I zoomed in on it without thinking twice. There were several repair bots scrambling up and down the hull. Only a few Dupes were in view.

"How many guards?" Gyles asked. He must have seen me staring at the massive hulk.

"Six," I replied. "Three patrolling the parameter and three standing at the entrance."

"All right," he said. "There's bound to be more inside. We've got to take out every last one of them." With that, Gyles started toward the ship at a steady jog.

We followed, weapons drawn and ready.

Finally, we came to a stop behind a chunk of metallic debris that lay about a yard away from the cruiser. Gyles pointed at me and Anna. "You two take out the visible troops. We'll come in from behind and take out anything that leaves the ship." He glanced at me, "If the blast doors start to close, I want you to get onboard. From there you should be able to reopen them for the rest of us."

I nodded.

"Anna," he barked. "Take out the patrol."

"Yes sir," she whispered.

"Jack," he ordered, "Take out the Dupes at the entrance." He paused. "Now go!"

Anna darted to the left and opened fire the minute she was in range. Two of the three soldiers went sprawling to the dusty ground. The third dove behind a boulder and began firing back. I ran full tilt towards the entrance, firing three precision shots into the guards. They toppled over before they even knew the attack had come. The moment the last of them hit the ground, I whirled around and opened fire on the remaining patrol guard. A bullet struck him squarely in the forehead. He spun wildly around, hitting the ground with a lifeless thud.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Anna, deprived of her third kill, continued running towards the ship. All at once, Dupes began pouring out of the entrance, guns blazing. Behind me, the rest of the troop opened fire. I dove behind a heap of twisted metal and began firing at the oncoming Dupes.

"You took my kill."

I turned to my left and saw that Anna was sitting beside me. She reached over the mound and fired a few shots without looking.

"He was in my sights," I replied. "You couldn't have hit him from where you were."

"Oh really?" She replied angrily.

I glanced over the top of the mound just as the last Dupe collapsed. Gyles was shouting something at the top of his lungs and the troop was running for the cruiser. I climbed to my feet and raced towards the entrance. Just as I had feared, the blast doors began to slide shut.

I took one last step and launched myself through the narrow opening. I landed with a metallic clank and whirled around just in time to see Anna dive through; she soared through the opening and landed violently at my feet. Just before the hatch closed, Riley landed inside, nearly on top of a fuming Anna.

With a hollow clank, the hatch hissed shut.

I glanced down at Riley, "You two weren't supposed to follow me in,"

He climbed to his feet, "I followed her." He nodded to Anna.

She glared, "I don't need you looking out for me, Riley."

He grinned, "Actually, I was just looking."

Before she had time to lash out, I stepped between them. "We've got to move. The ship isn't empty."

"What makes you say that?" Riley asked.

The floor began to tremble. Riley and I exchanged worried glances.

"It's taking off," Anna droned.

I nodded to Riley, "Let's find the bridge."

"No," he snapped. "I'll find the bridge."

I crossed my arms.

"You need to hack into the computer and find out where this thing is going," he said quickly. "Try to stop it if you can. Override the pilot."

"All right," I replied.

"Anna," he barked. "Come with me. I'll need cover."

She pulled a pistol from her belt, "Let's go."

They disappeared around the corner, leaving me to my work. Connecting to the ships computer wouldn't be hard. Getting it to obey my commands would be incredibly difficult. I turned to control panel that hung on the wall beside me. "Here goes nothing," I mumbled.

I closed my eyes and activated my external interface system. In a split second I had all the information I needed. The ship was unpiloted, it was acting on emergency protocol… Returning to base. Once we arrived at the base, the ship would be boarded and we would probably be executed.

There was no way to stop the process from where I stood. In order to regain control, I would have to deactivate the emergency protocol from the bridge. And only I could do it. My fingerprints were registered within the alien database, and it still recognized me as one of them. We did not have much time; the ship was traveling at top speed for its base.

I had the complete blue prints of the ship within my databanks. I darted around the corner and took the lift to level nine, where the bridge lay. According to the ships computer, Anna and Riley were both on level three, far from where they were headed.

The lift came to a stop and I ran down the corridor and into the bridge. It was a massive room, lined with consoles and navigational equipment. It took a crew of twenty to efficiently run such a ship.

In the far corner of the room lay the emergency console. The pilots had smashed in the safety glass and tripped the switch before rushing to battle. I stepped across the broken glass and turned the switch. As a result, the emergency protocol immediately deactivated. Yet the ship was in freespace and it continued to coast towards it destination. A mere glance into the view screen showed that the base was getting closer. It was a massive spherical space station that sat in high orbit around the moon. There were dozens of battle cruisers and one man fighters sitting around the station, each one awaiting it's turn to dock.

I darted over a nearby console and brought the ship to a halt.

By now we were being scanned and questioned. The dead communications systems prevented me from even attempted to respond. There would be a boarding craft within minutes.

I checked on Anna and Riley and found them on deck eight. I opened up the intercom system, "Anna, Riley. Deck nine. Hurry."

I raced from console to console, doing the work of twenty men. I activated the shields, powered up the weapons systems, and prepared to turn the ship around. Just as I took my seat at the helm, Riley burst into the bridge with Anna at his heels.

"You did it," he remarked.

Anna was staring at the viewscreen, "It looks like he was a little late."

Riley glanced up and swore under his breath. "Fighters coming this way…"

I nodded, "Yeah, I know. They don't think we're hostile. Just another damaged ship…" I paused and punched the thrust, we began accelerating towards earth. "Now we look incredibly suspicious."

The fighters noted my sudden increase in speed; they broke into attack formation and began to close in. "They won't take us out," I said. "We'll be disabled and boarded."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the fighters opened fire. Laser beams streaked by, bouncing harmlessly off the shields. They spun about and came back for a second run, this time things were different. Instead of lasers, they fired a volley of concussion missiles.

"The shields wont hold to that," Riley muttered.

He was more than correct. The first three missiles impacted with deadly force, almost instantaneously the shields shorted out. It was far from over, a second wave of missiles struck the main thrust system dead on. The ship whirred and choked for close to thirty short seconds before it finally died out all together.

"We're dead in space," I announced. "Arm yourselves. They'll be boarding any minute now."

The fighters circled the ship, scanning for any further attempts to escape. In the distance, a small boarding shuttle launched out into space and started moving in our direction. I glanced at the readouts, "Once she boards, our little adventure is over."

There was a moment of silence.

"All right," I said. "I've got an idea. Listen carefully and do exactly as I say." I pointed down the corridor, "The escape pods are located straight down that hallway. >From here I'll be able to program it so that it touches down just outside of the base. But I'll need you to deactivate the distress beacon before you launch. With the beacon off, they won't pick you up."

Anna crossed her arms, "If one pod launches then they will pick it up."

"That's why one pod is not launching," I retorted. "I'll be launching all of them."

"How many are there?" Riley asked.

"Close to fifty." I said. "It will be chaos out there once they've been launched. You should be able to slip by safely." I turned to a nearby console and began entering coordinates. "Take pod six," I shouted over my shoulder. "It'll be all set by the time you get there."

"And what about you?" Riley asked.

"I'll be fine." I replied. "One of these days, I'll show up back at the base."

They turned to go. I could sense their hesitation without any effort. "And don't forget to deactivate that beacon." I shouted. Once they had vanished around the corner I turned back to the console prepared to launch the escape pods. A quick glance at the viewscreen showed that time was short, the boarding shuttle was no longer a tiny speck in the distance.

The computer informed me that pod six was occupied and prepped for launch. I gave them a few short minutes to settle in before I ran the final check. The distress beacon was off and they had been given plenty of time to settle in. I reached out and flipped activation switch.

The first five pods shot out into space. Not even two seconds later, the second five followed. The process continued until the very last pod was drifting lazily past the confused fighter ships. I kept my eye on pod six, making sure it was moving on course.

After a moment of weaving in and out of the pods the fighters opened fire. One by one, the pods exploded into a fury of flames and shrapnel. By the time they had taken out half of them, pod six was already dropping unnoticed into earth's atmosphere.

My victory was short lived, however, for the boarding shuttle was making it's final approach.

****

The hull creaked and moaned as the shuttle attached itself to the surface. I waited patiently as it began to drill an entrance into the side of the ship. I noted that they were going to be entering on deck three, from there they would probably swarm up and down every inch of the ship in search of survivors like myself.

I took a quick look at the viewscreen and saw that the fighters were still busy trying to clear the area of pods. From the looks of it, they would remain busy for quite some time.

"HULL BREACH, DECK THREE," the computer warned.

I switched off the mainframe and stood to my feet. There was only one way into the bridge. I could have probably made a glorious stand, taking out dozens of enemy soldiers, before I was killed. But the idea seemed a bit ridiculous. Afterall, they were the ones responsible for making me who I was. They would think twice before killing me.

There were footsteps in the adjoining corridor.

I turned just as a dozen armed soldiers slipped onto the bridge. All at once, there were at least twenty rifles pointed at my head. "Drop the weapon and place your hands on your head," Came a calm toneless voice.

I obeyed, tossing my pistol aside.

The speaker emerged from the cluster of soldiers and looked me over. "Are there any others?" he asked.

"No. They evacuated. You shot down their escape pods," I replied.

The officer nodded and glanced at my mechanical legs. "You're to come with us for immediate reprogramming."

To Be Continued...

Bio: As a Michigan college student, David Allen finds that writing is the best way to evade reality. His other works have been seen in Aphelion, Titan, Dementia, The Writers Hood, and The Writers Outlet. Currently, David works as the action page editor for the Hood. Also, his first book "The Collection" has just reached print. If you'd like a copy, email David for details.

e-mail: vanosd@river.it.gvsu.edu