Dreamscape Saga Part 1: Project Falcon (3 page)

Chapter Five

Sykes awoke with a sense of exhilaration. Regardless of whatever anyone might say about him, he had just led the Order to an incredible victory. For the loss of only a couple hundred men, they gained almost twenty thousand. For the loss of a few squadrons of fighters, they gained one hundred and thirty new and improved ones. Beyond all that, they gained the blueprints for a weapon whose destructive power they could only begin to imagine.

Walking through the dimly lit halls of the Mobile Space Station, Sykes could only imagine what would be said about the victory. In his head, the battle resulted in only good things. Still, there were losses, and he was afraid that some of the other council members planned to use that against him. He knew he would have to answer for his lack of preparation against threats that were only discovered after the battle began.

The battle, despite the overwhelming victory, shook the council leader tremendously. The way the Confederate soldiers fought was incredibly intimidating. Had the Order not been able to overwhelm them in sheer numbers, there was almost no doubt that they would have lost the battle on the ground.

Sykes continued out of the habitat sphere and into the engineering section of the station. Every time he made this passage, it nauseated him. On the habitat sphere, the motion of the structure created gravity. On the engineering decks, it was created artificially using a series of magnetic fields. The difference between the two may not have much of an effect on the actually weight of a person, but the two types pulled on objects differently.

Taking a few more minutes than necessary, William Sykes made his way to the lift that would take him to the war room, where he and the other councilmen would discuss the battle. No matter what happened, he knew he had to remain in control. The lift came to a stop and he stepped through the doors and into the room.

“Councilman Sykes, you’re late,” snapped Gina Kerrigan.

Sykes felt his skin grow hot, but forced a smile, “My apologies to the Council. I am afraid that my duties took a while longer than anticipated. Surely all here can relate to such setbacks.”

“Perhaps,” Kerrigan sneered, “but the fact of the matter is that we were all here on time, regardless of our duties, as this is the highest of priorities. Surely you, as the council leader, should be held to a higher standard?”

Grieves spoke in his deep, raspy voice, “Let’s stay on topic. We have far too much to discuss with concerns to this war.”

Kerrigan stood angrily. “There is no war. If there is, who here condoned it? I certainly didn’t, and I would love to see in the minutes where a war has been declared.”

“I don’t care what you call it. Ultimately, we are fighting the Confederacy for our right to survive. In the history books, they’ll call it a war. We may as well get used to the idea,” Clayton whispered in her usual steady way.

Kerrigan’s volume won out.

“Until it’s been voted upon, this shall not be considered a war. It’s a conflict and that’s all. We are fighting for the right to survive and nothing more. We do not have the assumed right to declare war.”

Sykes rolled his eyes and looked at her bitterly. “We don’t have the right to declare war, but we have the right to commit acts of war? The latest of which even you voted in favor of?

“There are many things we could sit here and argue about,” Sykes continued, “but the fact of the matter is that we have committed our first act of war against the Confederation and it was an incredible victory.”

“Incredible? How?” Kerrigan spat out the words as though they were a poison in her mouth, “You do realize that we lost over two hundred men, right? And what about resources? Do you realize how many fighters we lost? These are incredible grievances that we have to deal with. How can you sit there and call this a victory?”

“Because that’s how a battle works, Gina. You pit your men and resources against the men and resources of the opposing force and try to make sure you lose as few of your people as possible while taking out as many of theirs as you can.”

“And you consider two hundred men a few people?”

“No, that’s a devastating loss. But we sent thousands to fight on the ground, and thousands more fought above the planet. When you consider those numbers, two hundred is a nominal figure.”

“You do understand that those are people don’t you? You can’t put a price on their lives.”

“You’re right there. However, they can. They fought because they believed in what they were fighting for. They were fighting for freedom and they died for their cause,” Sykes said. “They were out there because they agreed to fight. While I understand your sentiment, there’s a reason they say that war is hell. People have to die for the process to move forward. If you honestly feel that the Confederacy would let us all go free if you just went and talked to them, then by all means, I would love to prepare a transport for you. We all know that isn’t going to happen.

“You must look at the brighter side of things in the name of those who died. Look at what they accomplished, not what they lost. We now have almost twenty thousand people freed that are currently being integrated into our group. That twenty thousand people could have lived and died like mindless slaves down there. We have a handful of new fighters that are the very top of the line. With those, we can transform our current fleet to compete with the newer technology of the Confederacy, ultimately saving hundreds, if not thousands, of lives in the process. Is that not worth the lives of two hundred people? I know it sounds cold, and I’m not saying that there should be no sentiment of sadness and remorse shared on an individual level. Leading the resistance, we have to look at it from a much larger standpoint. Two hundred lives for what we gained is a bargain.”

For a moment, the council stayed silent. Even though several disagreed, they couldn’t help but appreciate the fervor with which it was spoken.

Atkins raised his hand awkwardly into the air.

“Yes, Richard?”

“I’ve been informed that there was a discovery on the surface in one of the research labs. What exactly was found?”

Grieves smiled broadly, straightening his wrinkled skin in many places across his face, “Would you object if I were to explain this, William?”

Sykes shared a similar expression on his face. If anything was going to convince the council of a victory, then this would be it. “No, not at all. Please, Thomas, enlighten us.”

“It would seem that William’s instincts were better than we could have hoped in this case. In one of the two research labs found under the surface of the primary facility, there was a weapon being produced. The likes of which could change the course of this… dispute with the Confederation. Now, there are three types of energy turrets. However, imagine a turret so powerful that it could destroy a fully armed and shielded destroyer in a single shot. Before, such ability was laughable at best, but now, we have the plans to produce it.”

Rosenberg’s mouth dropped. “What is it?”

“Well, it doesn’t have a name, but our engineers are calling it a Super Turret. We believe it was designed for planetary defense because the Confederation has long since put any ships capable of carrying it out of commission. If it were a grounded weapon, it would cause considerable damage to the atmosphere of any planet. Even as a planetary defense device, the weapon is simply too big for practical use, but we believe we have the perfect way to utilize it.”

Rosenberg still had a dumbstruck look on his face. “If the Confederation doesn’t have the ability to utilize it, how do we?”

“Well, you’re sitting in it. To the best of our knowledge, this vessel is the largest ship of any fleet in the galaxy. With a little time and effort, we could turn this vessel into an incredible weapon with unlimited capability. Just think of what an advantage we would have.”

“I don’t believe we need to think about it,” Kerrigan said, “The fact of the matter is that we are in this for the long haul, and we simply do not have the resources for creating a weapon we know almost nothing about. What if we create it and it blows the ship up? What then? Think about all that we have that could be lost and ask yourself if the weapon would be worth it.”

Sykes had to shut her up and decided to do so with a power move. “Alright, let’s put it to a vote then. All those for attempting to build the device on the station, please voice your opinion now. For those against, feel free to object.”

Around the table, red and green lights glowed, showing who was for and against the project. Sadly, the vote was four to four meaning the project would not be carried through. Sykes felt as though an arrow had just pierced his heart. In his mind, he had helped to discover a weapon that could bring the Confederacy to its knees, but the development was blocked by a tied vote.

From the very beginning, Sykes saw Kerrigan as a rival, and she only added to that sentiment at each meeting. Her incessant objections to his ideas wore thin, and his conscience allowed his mind to wander to places no man should consider.

Instead of reacting upon his horrible desires, Sykes tried his best to move the conversation forward. “Very well, before we consider the construction of the weapon I will have a team of engineers consider the design and run basic tests. When I feel they have made considerable progress, I will again present the prospect to the council.

“In the meantime, we have another issue to discuss. As many of you understand, we have obtained many new men after our raid on the research colony. Even though we have the capability to house them for a short while, we are faced with the prospect of running out of room if we make another raid, no matter how small it may be. Therefore, we need to begin exploring options of expansion. Grieves and I have spoken on multiple occasions about the possibility of using the space station to build up our fleet.”

Rosenberg leaned forward cautiously onto the table, as if he was testing waters he knew were too cold. “I hope you won’t take me as a pessimist, but where are we going to get the resources to build new ships? As it stands, we barely have enough material to repair the ships we have.”

Grieves stood up and pointed to a holographic display shown in brilliant color over the center of the table. “Currently, you are correct. We have nowhere near enough supplies to build new ships. However, a relatively short distance away, we have discovered a large shipping line that is heavily trafficked. All we would have to do is send in a frigate with a handful of fighters. The fighters would disable the head of the ship, leaving it unable to communicate with anyone. From there, we use the frigate to tow the cargo vessel to a safe location. At that time, we have a few more frigates cut apart the cargo ship. They then jump out of there with their assigned segments.”

“What sort of casualties are we looking at?” asked Rosenberg.

Sykes said, “Presumably, there would be no casualties. The cargo ships are large and slow, with only minimal defenses. We have a huge upper hand at the moment, because the Confederation still isn’t expecting a large resistance. If we can manage to get in and get out, there is only a minimal threat of detection. With the acquired goods, we could build several ships of different classes.”

Kerrigan couldn’t help herself. “Are you telling us that we are to become pirates? If we carry out this attack, then we’re going to fuel the desire to do it again and again. Is this really what we want?”

“Yes,” whispered Clayton. “It’s what we have to be and what we have to do. If pirating gives us the resources to ultimately mount an effective coup of the Confederation, then I say we do it. However, we should keep the primary fleet as far away from this mess as possible. If something were to go awry, I would hate to see all hopes of the Order crushed.”

“Agreed. Even if we’re not to consider this an official war, we are in this for freedom,” Atkins said. “Not just for ourselves, but for as many people as we can possibly reach. I personally find the idea of piracy deplorable, but if it’s what is necessary, then I feel we need to do it. After all, this is being done in the best interests of the Order. We started this organization to rid the Confederation of their control of the Dreamscape beds and the Serum. We aren’t going to do that by asking the Confederation to surrender them. We have to mount a massive attack. The only way we can do so is with more ships.”

“Let’s vote,” said Sykes.

As the sides of the table lit up, so did William’s face. Every side of it turned green, including that of Kerrigan, despite the fact that hers turned a little more reluctantly than anyone else’s.

“With that done, let’s begin planning.”

Chapter Six

The days since the first battle, proudly referred to as First Strike by the Order, caused considerable trouble for the men pulled up from the colony. Of the thousands, all were under the influence of the Serum. Most made it through detoxification without difficulty. A handful were so confused by their addiction that it lead to their deaths.

For the men found in the underground facility, matters were more intense. Of the four that survived their journey back onto the MSS, two died within a day, one woke up only to kill himself, and the fourth lay in bed, undisturbed. Malone was most interested in that man.

Malone began putting on a clean-suit and looked up toward the ceiling. “Intercom on. Wendy, could you come in here for a moment?”

A second later, a plain but eager looking woman entered the room already dressed in a white clean-suit. She smiled at the doctor to alert him of her presence.

“Wendy, I need you and the rest of the team to strap down the subject in the next room. As soon as you’ve finished, come get me. I’ll have security posted in just a moment. In the meantime, make no attempts to resuscitate the man. We don’t know who he is yet, and I don’t want to risk anything.”

Wendy cocked her eyes slightly. “Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme for one man? Even if he tried something, wouldn’t the automatic containment field hold him?”

Malone swallowed, wishing he could give her an answer, but it didn’t make any sense to him either. Sykes told him to take the precautions, and he would.

After Malone left the room, Wendy was soon joined by three other men of varying stature. One was a little too thick in the middle, another too thin in the shoulders, and the third was simply too short to be taken seriously, but they all carried the same drab looks on their faces as they walked into the room.

Before them, lying on a standard medical bed, was a man of no obvious physical distinction. The closer Wendy looked, the more interesting the man was. First, Wendy had remembered the man having several minor scratches and cuts he received when he was removed from the colony. Now however, none remained. It was as though her mind was playing tricks on her, but even to the touch, she could feel no such blemishes.

The woman felt the urge to document her findings. She sought out a medical tablet while the three men worked to secure the subject. Wendy first made note of the disappearance of all scratches and cuts while continuing to examine the man. She lifted each of his eyelids and was somewhat taken back by his eyes. One was blue while the other was green. Although not necessarily unusual, the intense color was particular striking. She ran her hands over his long face, and was surprised by the complete lack of imperfections. She expected to find a mole, a freckle, anything really, but could not produce anything of the sort. His eyes, ears, and nose were perfectly symmetrical in a way that was unnatural at best. At first glance, the man was physically perfect.

Pulling down the sheet that covered the subject, Wendy was taken aback by yet more oddities. The man had firm muscles with such toning that it was almost sickening to look at. Odder still was the presence of stretch marks over his shoulders and pectoral muscles that one would expect to see on a boy early in puberty. However, this man appeared to be in his early to mid twenties, and the stretch marks appeared to be new with the skin barely able to cling to his body without ripping. Her hand moved curiously down his chest, feeling the warmth of his body, but gasped when her hand grazed his stomach. Where she expected to continue feeling warmth was nothing but cold metal.

“This can’t possibly be real,” she said to herself, but the more she touched it, the more she was able to convince herself. In place of the man’s abdomen was a machine, perfectly integrated into his body, making hushed whirring and beeping noises. What it was, she had no idea, but she knew Doctor Malone would love the opportunity to examine it.

“Hello,” she heard from a voice that was a little deeper than most, but not so much as to intimidate her.

Wendy jumped back in fear when she realized that the voice had not come from any of the men she brought into the room. Her eyes quickly met those of the subject that was strapped down tightly and she almost wept in fear. His eyes were intense, and she wished that he would just turn away.

“I’m sorry,” said the rich voice, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

There was no way for Wendy to regain her composure, and she continued to press herself against the wall in fear that the man would break free of his restraints.

“Get Doctor Malone in here now!” she said to any one of the three men. The tallest ran out and returned a moment later with the Doctor and six fully armed guards.

“Damn it Wendy, I told you not to revive him!”

“But I—”

“Leave us, all of you!” he snapped.

The other doctors left and the guards walked just out of the room, but continued to look on through the glass.

Malone studied the man carefully without saying a word, something that was obviously bothering his subject.

“Why am I restrained?”

The doctor responded by raising a dusty-gray eyebrow, further adding to his subject’s discomfort. There was always a slight chill aboard any spaceship, and the MSS was no exception. Since Wendy had removed the only covering the man had for his upper body, he felt a cold that contributed to his fear.

An eternity of silence passed, and the doctor at last found enough decency to address the man as if he were a person instead of a subject.

“Would you mind telling me what that machine on your abdomen does?”

The subject considered the matter carefully for a moment. “I would love to, but I have no clue.”

“What is your name?”

“Again, I don’t have an answer for you.”

“Come now, everyone has a name. I was controlled by the Serum as well, but I remembered mine. Now please, what is your name?”

“I promise you, I don’t have any better idea than you.”

Malone grew irritated. “Do you know anything? Where were you born? Who was your mother? Why were you on the research colony? What did you see when you were in the Dreamscape? Is there anything that you could possibly tell me that may be of even the least significance?”

Fear was getting the best of the subject and he was starting to shake. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the guards still outside of his room glaring at him and stroking the trigger of their guns.

“I beg of you, I don’t know the answer to any of your questions. Please tell me, why am I being detained?”

There was a glint of compassion in Malone’s eyes, but he didn’t want to let it show in case the man was as dangerous as Sykes had implied. “The fact of the matter is that you have been deemed a threat by the Council of the Order. Until we can reasonably assure them otherwise, you will continue to be considered so. Unfortunately for you I can’t very well convince them that you’re safe if I can’t get any answers from you.”

“The Order? What’s that?”

“We are,” the doctor smiled. “Every one of us. We are a group that believes all men have the right to live freely and by their own accord. A right that the Confederation, a rather nasty bunch, has taken away. Our goal is to be the force that brings the new order to the galaxy and overthrow those that would have us oppressed. They took control of all governments, leaving no road for freedom, and so now, we have to repave that road.”

The subject was puzzled. “If the Confederation took control of all the governments, then how does the Order exist? Doesn’t that mean they control everything?”

“They do. We came to be because of a mistake they made. We overthrew our commanding officers and are dedicating our lives and our resources to liberating everyone that we can, even if it means that we all get killed in the process.”

“Admirable, but impossible I would imagine.”

“Some would have us think that,” Malone said, “but we freed you from them, didn’t we? Aside from you, we have fifteen thousand new men and women that will help us in the fight. It was impossible for us to accomplish that much, but we did it, and it won’t be the last time we do it either.”

Malone paused as he reflected on his own conviction, ensuring himself that he believed it as much as he would like to think he did. After which he took a more leisurely tone with his subject.

“So what exactly are we going to call you? I can’t keep addressing you without having a name with which to do so, it’s just not normal.”

“What would you call me?”

Pondering the question for a moment, the doctor replied, “Well, it says on your profile that they pulled you out of a room with the words ‘Project Falcon’ printed on the door. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Should it?”

“Not necessarily, but hope springs eternal. What if we were to call you Falcon? Would you have any objection to that?”

“I don’t suppose so.”

“Fantastic, then Falcon it is, but you’ll need a first name as well. Is there any name you would prefer over another?”

Falcon grinned slightly. “I don’t know why I would have an answer for that if I couldn’t answer anything else.”

“Fair enough I suppose. I guess I’ll just call you Benjamin. It’s fairly common and it’s the first thing that comes to mind.”

“So you would have me called Benjamin Falcon? I guess I could live with that.”

“Now then,” Malone regained his focus, “there’s the little matter of figuring out just what to do with you. To be frank, the fact that you can’t recall anything doesn’t exactly set well with our predicament. I’m going to put you through a variety of tests, both physical and psychological, in an effort to make a comprehensive report to the Council. If everything looks clear, then we should be able to let you go, but all that’s out of my hands. All I can do is file the report. My best wishes to you Mister Benjamin Falcon, I’ll have my technicians in here shortly to begin your physical exam. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”