Captain Lucas Jarcor

by T. J. Quinn

  “Indeed, well, Jarcor, we surely can use your experience out there. The soldiers they’ve been sending me have no idea how to act in the middle of a battle and we’ve had way too many wounded in the past few months,” he said, in a dispassionate tone. It was obvious he wasn’t going to comment on what his superiors had done to Jarcor, but it would warn him and others like him not to make the same mistake Jarcor had.

  “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

  General Brown nodded standing up to guide Jarcor out. “I’ll introduce you to the unit you’ll be leading into the battlefield, as soon as possible.”

  Like General Brown had said, the cyborgs he introduced him too appeared to be younger than the average cyborg and seemed to be clueless as what to do with the heavy guns they were carrying.

  Jarcor took a deep breath before giving them a few instructions, telling them how to act as a group, protecting each other from enemy forces. “In case of doubt, ask,” he concluded. “The general idea is to kill as many enemies as possible and return in one piece. Protect yourself and protect those around you. Work as a team and you might get out of this alive and well.”

  The men nodded, and he smiled, pleased. “Try to emulate what I do on the battlefield and feel free to act as your instincts tell you to.”

  With those last words, he guided his men into the battlefield. The Taucets preferred fighting on foot and their senses seemed to be a lot more accurate than those of humans or even cyborgs but from what Jarcor was able to see, they were lousy warriors.

  After his first week on the front line, Jarcor was convinced the Taucets used to win their battles based on the vast number of fighters they had rather than any other tactic. He believed they hadn't expected to find well-prepared armies willing to fight them, but they didn’t seem to be willing to surrender.

  Nor would the humans. They weren’t willing to deliver their planet on a silver platter to the alien invaders.

  After an intense week fighting on the battlefields, Jarcor finally had some free time, to dedicate it to himself. He managed to get access to a computer and working as fast as he could, he finished working on the private communication channel between all cyborgs.

  He hid the channel and made it imperceptible to the humans, encrypting it on the off chance they managed to find it. He wanted a channel all cyborgs could use without fear of being caught.

  He decided to try it with one of the guys in his unit, eager to see if it worked as planned.

  “Johlan, can you hear me?” he asked, in an excited tone.

  “Jarcor? Is that you? This is a new channel. How the hell did you get access to it?” he asked, surprised.

  Jarcor smiled, pleased and opened the conversation to all the cyborgs within a mile. “I’ve created this channel. It’s a secure channel, just for cyborgs. It leaves no trace and no records. Humans don’t know about its existence and even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to crack my defenses.”

  From the other side of the line, he heard the cheers of happiness of the other cyborgs. “This is great, Jarcor. We sure need a private channel,” Johlan said, sounding as excited as he was.

  “I’m working on a few other apps to store private information I’ll send to you through this channel,” he added. “But I need you guys to transmit it to all cyborgs you can reach.”

  “Sure thing. Keep up the good work,” someone else said.

  “You can also have private conversations by just naming the person you want to talk to. A private sub-channel is immediately created and when you’re done talking, it’s erased. It won’t leave any records or trace of the conversation,” he explained.

  “That’s perfect.” Some of the men cheered.

  “I’ll let you know when I have other information to share,” he ended the conversation and relaxed in his chair.

  He erased all he had been working on and went back to his quarters. He had been planning his escape, but his instincts told him it wasn’t the right moment. He had to wait a bit longer until he had his recorder ready to activate even when he was unconscious. Otherwise, escape would be futile.

  “Johlan, one question,” he called out the other cyborg.

  “What’s up?”

  “Do you have any idea where the main control panel is located? You know, through where humans access our circuitry.”

  “It’s hidden in your thorax, right under your armpit, but you need to cut open your skin to gain access to it,” Johlan explained. “And we’re programmed to avoid the area. There’s no way we can cut it open ourselves, though we wouldn’t be able to do anything without the main codes.”

  “I see. I’m sure breaking into that program won’t be easy, but either way, we need to get those codes.”

  “Good luck with that.” There was so much disbelief on the other man’s tone, Jarcor couldn’t help laughing.

  “I’ve faced harder challenges.”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Chapter Eight

  The following days were another succession of endless battles and by the time Jarcor had another free moment, he was exhausted. Though his whole life had been dedicated to fighting the enemy, there were moments where he wished he could escape the life. He had seen enough bloodshed.

  Despite his exhaustion, he went looking for a computer and dedicated a few minutes to work on his own recording system. He was nearly finished when he sensed someone approaching. Quickly, he closed everything he had been working on and got up only he wasn’t able to leave the room on time to avoid Sergeant Miller.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled.

  “Having a bit of fun. Is there a problem with that?” Jarcor replied calmly, trying not to provoke him.

  “You have no business being here.”

  “Why not? I wasn’t aware this place was off-limits.” It wasn’t and they both knew it, but Jarcor knew Miller still had a score to settle with him, after their last encounter.

  Miller’s face got so red Jarcor thought he was about to have a stroke. But the sergeant managed to control himself before he spoke, oozing venom towards Jarcor. “You think you’re better than anyone here, don’t you? Having trouble accepting your new place in life, are you?”

  “My place in life hasn’t changed at all. Your opinion on the matter has no importance to me,” he stated coldly, watching as Miller lost control over himself once more.

  He stepped closer to Jarcor, yelling at him. “You’re nothing, just a weapon to use as we see fit, as we please, completely dispensable. I could kill you right now and you would be replaced immediately by another one of your kind.”

  “Go ahead, what’s stopping you?” challenged Jarcor, crossing his arms over his chest. Miller wasn’t a threat to him, despite his words.

  Miller threw a punch at him and Jarcor moved his head, easily avoiding the blow and sending the smaller man stumbling across the room.

  “Is that all you have?” mocked Jarcor. He knew he was looking for trouble, but he was sick and tired of men like Miller.

  The sergeant attacked him again and Jarcor managed to avoid him and his punches once more but when he tried to hit back, his arms wouldn’t respond to his commands. Instead, a searing pain rushed through his body, taking his breath away.

  What the hell was going on? Jarcor dodged one more attack but again he wasn’t able to fight back, and every time he tried, he was stopped by the excruciating pain.

  “What’s the matter, Jarcor? Why don’t you fight back?” Miller asked, mocking him. “Machines are built to obey orders, not to rebel against their superiors.”

  “You told them to do this to me, didn’t you?” he snarled, through gritted teeth.

  Miller let out a victorious laugh. “Of course, I did. I let them know you had attacked me with no provocation and they immediately took care of that rebellious spirit.”

  “You really are a cowardly worm. Does it make you feel better, knowing you can abuse your position against helpless people?”

  “People? I don�
��t see any people around here, just a babbling robot that thinks too much of itself.”

  Jarcor clenched his hands into fists and made an extraordinary effort to move his hand to knock out the other man, but his hand didn’t move. He was so focused on moving his hand, he didn’t see the other man approaching and throwing a punch to his jaw.

  The punch didn’t have the effect Miller was expecting since it wasn’t able to move Jarcor one inch. Instead, it gave him the necessary strength to move his hand and punch the other man back. The pain was worse than anything he had ever experienced, but he didn’t care. He had the satisfaction to see the other man fall to the ground, knocked out.

  Falling to his knees, Jarcor stayed there for a few moments recovering from the waves of pain still rushing through his body. When he was finally able to move, he left the room without even looking back or checking on Miller. He knew he would be alright.

  That night, their camp was attacked by a small group of Taucet vessels and Jarcor was sure that was the only reason why Miller didn’t seek retaliation.

  The place was utterly destroyed and though they were able to destroy most of the Taucet crafts, it was impossible to rebuild the camp in the same location. The Taucets now knew its location and would be back to attack them again if they stayed.

  Fortunately, there were no casualties on their side and they would be evacuated in a few hours.

  Though he still hadn't tested his recorder, Jarcor decided it was the ideal time for him to make his first escape. He knew they would capture him faster than he would like, but he needed to force the doctors to access his primary control system so that he could hack the access to the codes he would need to really escape the human’s control and help the other cyborgs to flee with him.

  Chapter Nine

  Taking advantage of the chaos at the camp after the battle, Jarcor escaped from the area, stealing a MotorStorm he had found abandoned under some debris. The vehicle allowed him to put a lot more distance between himself and the humans. He knew they would miss him soon enough and that they would be after him in no time, but for the moment he was enjoying his freedom.

  He was able to reach a small village, up in the mountains and decided to look for a signal blocker, to delay as long as possible his capture. Spotting an electronics store on a side street, he decided to use his savings to buy what he would need. He knew that he would be leaving a trace but right now that was not important.

  Entering the store Jarcor found the reaction of the man behind the counter almost comical. It was as if he had never seen a cyborg in the flesh.

  “Are…are…are we being…attacked?” the poor man stuttered, clearly nervous.

  “No, you’re not. I’m here to get a few things I need. Usually, I would get them from our regular suppliers, but our base has just been attacked,” he explained, trying to leave his expression as blank as possible.

  Ever since he had left the camp, pain had been his companion. It was apparent the cyborgs had been programmed not to escape and his actions were a clear violation of such programming. Fortunately, the pain levels were bearable, though they made it hard to smile.

  “Sure…sure…whatever you need,” the salesman offered.

  Jarcor named all the supplies he needed and the man quickly gathered them in front of him.

  “I thought cyborgs were a bit grayish…” The man’s curiosity was stronger than his fear.

  “They are. I used to be human, like you, but I was turned into a cyborg, to avoid having my legs amputated,” he glamorized the truth, not looking for the man’s sympathy.

  The truth was his skin had slowly lost its natural golden tone and it was gaining the grayish skin tone typical of the cyborgs.

  “Oh, I didn’t know they could do that,” the man was astounded.

  “Apparently, they can. How much do I owe you?” he cut the conversation, eager to get the hell out of there.

  “It’s on the house. It’s a pleasure to help the brave men fighting for our freedom,” the man said, with a full smile.

  Nodding, Jarcor didn’t wait around to see if he was being serious. He grabbed his supplies and left the store, leaving the small village as fast as possible. He needed to find a suitable place to build his signal blocker.

  A couple of hours later, he reached a small cave, hidden in the mountains, where he hid the MotorStorm and started working on the blocker.

  He knew he didn’t have much time before they found him, so he worked as fast as he could. It was a real relief when he got the device working.

  He knew that wouldn’t keep them away forever, eventually they would figure out he was using a blocker, but it would give him a couple more days of freedom.

  Smiling, he attached the blocker to his wrist and jumped in the MotorStorm, he headed out. He needed to get as far away from the cave as possible before he dumped the vehicle. It was too loud and too noticeable. He would continue on foot, hopefully making things harder for them to find him.

  He travelled up the mountains until he considered he was far enough away from his last trackable position. He pushed the MotorStorm down a cliff before taking off at a run.

  He spent that night hiding in a cold and dark cave, unwilling to start a fire and make himself visible to anyone who would be looking for him.

  He controlled his body temperature using his new cyborg features, but when the sun came out from behind the horizon, he was so hungry he could eat a bear.

  Jarcor knew he should try to find something to eat, but wanting to get as far away as possible, he ignored his growling stomach took off running again.

  At sunset, he stumbled upon a small cabin hidden in the middle of the woods and after checking the place, he didn’t worry about breaking in. With his talent on hacking, opening the electronic lock was easy.

  There was no one around and he decided he could wait for the soldiers in the comfort of the cabin.

  With luck, there would be food in storage he could eat.

  And there was. The cupboard was filled with all kinds of canned food, as well as all the ingredients you might need to cook a delicious meal.

  Being too hungry to wait, he grabbed a couple of cans and opened them, eating them without even heating them first.

  With his primary need satisfied, he searched the small abode finding a comfortable bed he would use as soon as he took a shower.

  He was coming out of the shower when he heard someone entering the house. Cursing himself for being so distracted, he wrapped the towel around his waist and quickly moved to the door, trying to find out who he was up against.

  A flowery scent filled his nostrils when he slightly opened the door and he knew it was a woman. By the sound of steps, he was able to tell she was alone and he doubted she could be a danger to him. Her footsteps were barely audible, so he assumed she wasn’t a big woman. Carefully, Jarcor left the room and followed her to the kitchen.

  She was examining the empty cans he had left on the table. She must have sensed him behind her, because she turned around, startled.

  “Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?” she shouted, after a moment of shock.

  The woman had guts, he had to admit it. Even before he had been changed into a cyborg, he had been an impressive man; over six feet tall, with a muscled body. Now, he was almost seven feet tall and his body was a lot more powerful than it had ever been. Still, she hadn't hesitated to confront him.

  A hint of a smile cracked his face. “Who I am is not important. I needed a place to get some rest and this place looked perfect,” he said in a cool tone, as his eyes surveyed her body.

  She was barely five feet ten, with a slim, tidy body, with curves in all the right places. Her coppery hair fell down her back in amazing curls and her heart-shaped face reminded him of a naughty wood nymph, with the green eyes.

  For the first time in a long while, Jarcor’s body responded the way it was supposed to in the presence of such an attractive woman and he took a deep breath, in order to contro
l himself.

  Unaware of his examination, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and threatened him. “Well, I don’t care what you need. This is my cabin and you have exactly five seconds to get the hell out of here before I call the police.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” he replied, in a soft tone, taking a few steps towards her.

  She gulped visibly but didn’t step back. “Of course, I do, and I will.”

  Before she was even able to turn on the phone, he was next to her, taking it out of her hands and smashing it between his fingers. “I don’t think so,” he murmured, opening his hand and allowing the small pieces of the device to fall to the floor.

  Looking scared for the first time, the woman tried to run for the door, but Jarcor wasn’t about to allow her to escape. Stretching his arm, he quickly captured her and pulled her against his naked chest.

  He needed a bit more time of freedom and he couldn’t allow her to ruin that for him. “I’m sorry, but you’re not going anywhere. I promise I won’t be here for long, but while I do, you’ll stay with me, like a nice little girl,” he whispered in her ear, allowing his nose to relish her sweet perfume. Her scent was driving him insane and he had to make a considerable effort to control himself and not act like a brainless animal in heat.

  “Please…please…let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about you,” she begged him, breathing hard, her heart drumming in her chest, so hard he could hear it.

  “I’m afraid I can’t believe in you,” he replied, as he looked around, trying to find something he could use to tie her up.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she seethed, struggling to free herself from his powerful embrace.

  “Nothing, as long as you behave,” he assured her, as he dragged her along the kitchen floor, opening the drawers on his way until he found duct tape. Just what he needed.