Warpath (2 page)

“Freeground Control
reports that they only have enough power to create a wormhole to the
near side of the Ironhead Nebula,” Captain Behr said. “It’s a
no-go for the moment, Ma’am.”

“We’ll see,”
Admiral Rice said. “Open a channel.”

Captain Behr nodded at
his communication’s chief, a young man who looked more like a
security chief from his build. He opened a channel and put the
communications on the bridge’s secondary display, a hologram just
to the left of the middle of the room. It stuttered occasionally,
thanks to the jamming signals the Isek were generating. The laser
communications systems weren’t completely unaffected, but they were
the only thing that still worked.

“Admiral Rice,”
said the responder. He was a thin-faced man who always looked a
little too high strung for her liking. He wrung his hands, chewed his
fingernails, or scowled when he thought no one was looking. Just a
few years ago, the Admiralty would not have accepted him in their
ranks, but needs forced them to advance people who barely made the
grade.

“Admiral Pallon,”
she replied. “We knew this would come, the Isek want to wear us
down before they send their cruisers in to take the last active
segment of Freeground.”

“We do not have
enough power in the capacitors to open a wormhole through the
Ironhead Nebula. We will arrive on the inside edge, possibly sustain
damage thanks to the particles there, and we will definitely be in
Order territory,” Admiral Pallon replied, turning away from the
holographic receiver.

“If we do not take
this opportunity, while our ships are shielded and we have this much
power in hand, we will not be able to leave at all. I am not looking
forward to fighting to the death, or becoming the newest resident in
the Isek slave camps,” she told him. “I’ve already ordered
Battle Group One out of the area, and the rest are falling back.”

“Get them back in the
field! Our defence will not be effective if-“ red light flashed on
Admiral Pallon’s end, bathing the side of his face in its hue.

With a glance at her
command and control console’s screen on her wrist, Admiral Rice
could see that Freeground Station had been struck by a group of
missiles. Dormant sections had lost shielding, and were open to space
in hundreds of places. They were already empty, powered down for the
most part, but the decompressing hull of the massive structure warned
at the fate that awaited the main ring of the station, Freeground
Alpha, if something wasn’t done.

“Pallon, deactivate
the shielding surrounding the abandoned sections of Freeground and
apply the energy to the wormhole generator. It’s the only way.”

“I’m sorry, Admiral
Rice, I can’t split my attention between convincing you that we are
on the right course, and keeping things running smoothly,” Admiral
Pallon said.

Admiral Rice was out of
her seat and on her way to the main communications console the moment
Admiral Pallon’s image disappeared.

“Give her command
control, Lieutenant Feng,” Captain Behr ordered as she arrived and
pushed the heavily muscled communications officer out of the way.

“Aye,” he replied,
standing back and watching as he resumed his duties at another
communications console.

“Captain, I regret to
inform you that I am about to violate several military and civilian
laws, and you’ll probably have to take me into custody when I’m
finished,” Admiral Rice said.

“I have no idea what
you’re doing or what your intentions could be, so I see no reason
to interfere,” Captain Behr said, feigning ignorance.

“Captain, she’s
entering Freeground Alpha’s remote command codes, probably so she
can-“ a junior communications officer started. He was silenced with
a warning look from Lieutenant Feng. “Right, can’t tell what
she’ll do Sir, probably nothing to worry about,” he trailed off.

The main display at the
front of the bridge focused on the primary ring of Freeground
Station. Small areas of its hull flashed as hundreds of weapon
emplacements fired at incoming missiles. Blue light began to shine
from several rows of old emitters built into the broad surface of its
upper sections. They formed a glowing ring, crowning the thickest,
oldest section of the station for several seconds before a
high-compression wormhole opened above it.

“Helm, get us into
formation and inside that wormhole as soon as Freeground Alpha is
under way,” Captain Behr ordered.

“Aye, already on it,
Captain.”

“Admiral Rice!”
shouted Admiral Pallon over the communications band. “You will be
court martialled for this!”

“I don’t care if
both of us aren’t admirals when this is over,” Admiral Rice
shouted back, “As long as we’re both free and alive, I’ve done
my duty.” As if to punctuate her statement, emitters on the
opposite side of the Freeground Alpha ring pulsed to life, pushing
the massive ring into the wormhole above it.

The threshold of the
wormhole was surprisingly rough, and Admiral Rice couldn’t help but
wonder for a moment if she’d done the right thing as she watched a
few metres of old armour plating lift and detach from Freeground
Alpha as it transitioned from normal space into the wormhole.

“Battlegroups Two and
Three are in position, Group One is already out of the area,”
Captian Behr reported.

“Proceed through the
wormhole, this end will only be here for another seventy seven
seconds,” Admiral Rice said as she checked the energy readings
scrolling across her vision.

All that remained of
Freeground Fleet, thirty-eight ships, made it through with three
seconds to spare, and for those scant seconds Admiral Rice watched as
the bulk of Freeground, the thirty-four massive, lightless rings they
were leaving behind, were pulverized by Isek missiles. It was the
longest minute of her life.

The comfort of the bed
Jacob Valent laid in was unfamiliar, but magnificent, all enveloping.
He didn’t want to move, or open his eyes and let the world in. The
last thing he remembered was Ayan’s face looking down at him,
filling his view, trying to smile, making all the right promises.

The rest came in a
flash, that he had been rebuilt, but he couldn’t remember the
details of the surgery, or being saved from whatever attacked him.
Without opening his eyes he flexed his fingers and toes, curling the
soft, warm bedding in them. It felt like everything was where it
should be, but at the same time, Jake was filled with the sensation
that he was different.

There was a weight on
his chest, only slight, but a weight nonetheless. He opened his eyes
a crack. There was a little Nafalli mouth and above that, a tiny pink
nose. She was laying above the sheets on his chest, flattened out on
her stomach. “Zoe?” he whispered.

Her slumbering response
was a puff of air from her twitching nose, then she yawned widely,
revealing rows of sharp juvenile teeth. Her dark eyes barely opened
as she smacked her lips and stared at him. Jake gently pulled a hand
from under the sheets and the comforter and lightly stroked the top
of the pup’s head and neck. There was no doubt that he was using
his own hand to pet the youngster, but it didn’t feel like his own,
it didn’t look like it either. The fingers were thicker, they
looked stronger, and that arm was bulkier, more muscular than the one
he’d had before.

Zoe cooed and closed
her eyes, fidgeting for a moment before flattening out once again.
“Wonder who left you here to watch over me?” he asked in a
croaking whisper. It was almost his voice, but the difference was
unmistakeable. He looked around while stroking the young nafalli’s
back. He wasn’t in Haven Shore, that was for certain. The light he
initially mistook for morning rays were reflecting across the
atmosphere of Tamber. None of the construction or finishing looked
like the Triton, but the sounds of a mid-sized ship were absent, so
he was most likely aboard a station.

The door opened
soundlessly, letting in light his eyes weren’t ready for. Doctor
Messana with Alice close behind. Zoe and Jake both groaned at the
sudden light, to the amusement of Alice, who sat down on the edge of
the bed and took Jake’s free hand. She was beaming, grinning from
ear to ear.

Doctor Messana smiled
as well, taking a seat in a bedside chair. “How do you feel, Jake?”

He was about to answer,
but was interrupted by Zoe, who stood, stretched, then said; “Better
now.” She kissed him on the nose and ran from the room. He smiled
at the toddler before responding. “Good, different, but good.”

“There are going to
be differences,” Doctor Messana said, nodding. “Some big
differences, just like we discussed before you agreed to go into the
development tank, but physical therapy will be easier, and your
physical strength will be closer to what you’re used to. Not nearly
as impressive as it was when you had the framework system, but your
muscle mass is sixty percent higher than the average healthy human.”

“I don’t remember
that discussion,” Jake said, still not alarmed. “Can you refresh
my memory?”

“It was the first day
of physical therapy, and you noticed there were still a few scars
left, and you were having a lot of difficulty with the basics. I
offered to put you in a maturation tank for a few weeks so we could
program your muscle memory, heal some deep scars that would take
months to disappear otherwise, and build your muscle mass. The six
weeks you were in there saved you nine months, most likely much more
time.”

“Okay, that seems
familiar, but six weeks? I wouldn’t agree to that long,” Jake
said. His whole body felt different, but he wasn’t uncomfortable.
What surprised him was how unburdened his mind felt. His head was
clearer and less troubled than he could ever recall it being before.
“Oh, and am I on something?”

“No, nothing at all,”
Doctor Messana said. “I’m afraid you’re right, you didn’t
agree to six weeks, Jake, you agreed to two. After the two weeks
passed, I didn’t see the kind of progress you would expect, so I
gave it more time. Now I know you’ll be pleased with the level of
development your body has accomplished.”

“I didn’t get a
say, dad,” Alice said quietly.

“Next time,” Jake
said, “You listen to her, but I’ll let you off the hook this
time. Seriously though, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my
mind, it’s hard to describe.”

“The framework has
been interacting with your brain throughout your entire life,”
Doctor Messana said, “It was one of the discoveries I made while
researching your unique circumstances, so I knew there was a chance
you’d feel different mentally as well. Part of that extended time
in the maturation chamber was spent making sure that you could
identify with your new body. It was essential that your mind did not
reject your body, as it happens to clone transfers often enough.”

Jake couldn’t help
but notice Alice, who watched his every reaction to what Doctor
Messana was saying. “All right, did it work?” Jake asked.

Doctor Messana looked
to Alice then back to Jake. “Your reaction to the reality of your
situation will tell me that. Everything that made Jake Valent ended
up in the bin. Nothing could be saved. Your brain, your everything
was rebuilt or replaced while you were alive, so you’re not going
to feel like there was any interruption in your thoughts, and there
wasn’t, but every cell in your body is different. Genetically
similar, but fresh, it’s a miracle that medical science has gone so
far that your brain could be destroyed and rebuilt at the same time,
while we were able to make this body for you through a series of
transplants and reconstructions. The end result is a completely new
life with your mind intact, now without the restraints and directions
of framework technology. That is how you should look at this, as a
new life. If I were you, I’d keep my mind open to taking a whole
new approach at how you live this one.”

“Well, I’m not
having a seizure, violent flashbacks, or even a case of mild
surprise, so I think I’m good,” he said, smiling at Alice. “So
the framework is gone,” Jake said.

“Yes, everything you
were, except for all but your short term memories, are gone,”
Doctor Messana replied. “You’re starting out with a clean slate,
completely human. I’ve programmed your body with functional muscle
memory, and I’m amazed at how well you’re speaking, but I’m
sure you’re going to have to spend some time learning how to do a
lot of things. Do you feel like trying to stand?”

“Yes,” Jake said
without hesitation.

Doctor Messana and
Alice pulled the sheets aside to reveal a thicker, more muscled torso
than Jake had before. His body felt heavier, but good, solid. He was
wearing clean, white knee-length shorts. “So, I had trouble with
recovery?”

“Yes, your muscle
memory map didn’t take, so you could barely speak, let alone walk.”

“Okay, so what about
this time? Was six weeks in the tank worth it?”

“So far you’ve been
able to control your arms, you’re speaking clearly, and we’re
about to find out if you can walk. I’d say it’s much better this
time, and you may be able to skip the first two or three months of
physical therapy.”

“It was bad, Dad,”
Alice said. “You couldn’t stand being out of control, I’m glad
you can’t remember.”

“So you might have
opted for the six week treatment anyway?” Jake asked.

“If it meant avoiding
that, yes,” Alice replied. “But they wouldn’t give me much
information, so I didn’t get to weigh in.”

“That’s all past,”
Doctor Messana said. “Let’s see if you can take a few steps
today.”

“All right, time to
get mobile,” Jake said. He sat up, was immediately dizzy, and
steadied himself. “Head just spun for a minute, I’m all right.”

“Okay, take my hand,”
Doctor Messana said. “Alice, take the other one, just let him put
his weight on you for balance.”