by Bret Brown
P-T is woken up by indistinct conversations nearby. Uncertain how long he has been out, he keeps his eyes closed this time learning his lesson from the previous experience. He tries to hone in on nearby voices as the conversation begins to become clearer as P-T further regains consciousness. "Tell the Ictarian liaison that when the augmented soldiers are ready, they'll fucking have them. Until then, they are of no use to anyone.", a familiar voice says.
"Dr. Singh?", says a male voice.
"What?!", she snaps at the man.
"Unit 53 of prototype 6 is gaining consciousness. Would you like to run the defensive modulation test?", says the man.
"Yes, go ahead," she says, "but keep the test limits low. We nearly killed him when his hands changed into weapons. Fortunately, the nanites repaired his wounds as he ended up cutting himself deep. Oh! Make sure that we compensate for the energy consumption, so quadruple the IV's. He lost almost twenty pounds from the last test."
"Yes doctor.", says the males voice.
"I need about six or seven months to get these....", says Dr. Singh, her voice drifts away while excruciating pain again traverses through P-T's body, as if it were sent on fire from the inside. Too much to bear, P-T slips back into an unconscious state.
As the depths of reality unfolds, screams and loud bangs are heard all around, while the sound of glass breaking and other objects scatter on the floor.
"No! No! You can't take them. They're not ready for combat.", screams out the familiar female voice.
"Move outta the way bitch. We have orders. Don't make a scene.", says a man’s voice sternly.
"You don't have t-". A loud bang rings out stopping the woman from speaking, followed by a loud thud on the floor.
The same male voice says, "You all saw that she was armed. I'm sure there are other fucking doctors that can do this shit. Get these units loaded on the transport. Time to see these lab rats in action."
"Sir, this unit looks like he's waking up.", says a female voice.
"Hurry up to the transport and get this one in an ice cube. Put his ass asleep first.", says the man, followed by a very loud crash of glass, the crack of bones in P-T's face immediately after, putting him in a daze.
Loud sirens wake up P-T, startling him, as the strange vault he is in opens up, as it rotates from a prone position into an upright one. Looking out, he sees thousands of people emerging from these strange cells. He's in a large room some five levels high with walkways filled with people running down stairs, and sliding down ladders, while red lights are rotating and flashing above, as a deafening siren continues its monotonous repetition.
Suddenly, a man jumps out in front of P-T, screaming at him. "Get the fuck out of that ice cube! Nap time is over! Drop ships are descending in five minutes!"
P-T, very confused by it all, steps out of the chamber and follows the people around him; trying to blend in but gather information about where he is as well. They get to a quartermaster who provides them with clothes and some protective gear. Still following the crowd, P-T gets dressed quickly and heads to the armory.
One by one, the people stretch out their right arm and then they receive a weapon. Following suit, P-T reaches out with his right arm as the many in front of him have done; unknowing of what he was to present to the young man.
"This motherfucker doesn't have a bar code.", says the soldier. "Captain, this soldier is missing a bar code. What do you want to do, sir?".
"Corporal, just send the sack of shit down without a weapon. Dropships are leaving in two mikes.", says the Captain with a snarky attitude. "Those ships will be at 100% capacity."
"Yes sir!", says the Corporal, motioning to get the soldiers behind P-T to usher him along.
Once inside the dropship, P-T sees dozens of soldiers prepping for combat, checking their gear and weapons, while strapped in on a seat.
A platoon leader is briefing the soldiers on what to expect, but P-T phases out the man's voice, as his adrenaline begins to pump and tunnel vision sets. His heart pounding loudly in his chest as he hyperventilates in his chair. The soldier next to him sees P-T's confusion.
"Is this your first drop?", says the young female soldier. She waits for a second for P-T to respond. "Can you hear me? Well, if you can hear me or not, you have nothing to worry about. This will be all over for you very quick. Whether you toughen up, or die that's up to you. At least let's make sure you make it to the battlefield."
She straps P-T into the seat shortly before the drop ship starts to shake violently. The turbulence increases with each passing moment, as the internal temperature rises in the ship. P-T looks around him to see that most of the soldiers are quite calm in their seats.
The woman next to him asks, "Where is your weapon?". P-T shakes his head no as the look of concern grows on his face. "How the fuck did you get on here without a weapon? Here, have my sidearm.", as she passes him a laser pistol. "Don't make me regret this."
A light at the front of the fuselage changes from red to yellow. The platoon leader yells out a command and all of the soldiers unstrap themselves from their seats and line up. Soon after the light turns green, the rear cargo ramp drops quickly, and all of the soldiers run out the back of the vessel.
The thunderous engines with their immense heat, blast the air away in all directions, stirring up dust and blowing down the tall vegetation, making ripples in unison of the rushing current. One by one, the soldiers quickly leap out and in a crouched run, they sprint towards whatever cover they can find.
Hundreds of flashing red lights rain down upon their position from an opposing force. Dirt and shrapnel explode from the ground, soaring high into the air. The sand below their feet turns to spots of blackened glass where the laser bolts make contact; missing their human targets. As the soldiers run, the fragile glass breaks into small pieces under their feet.
Not far from the drop, is a low barrier made of sand bags. Behind it, a shallow trench where many soldiers are using it for cover and returning fire.
P-T makes his dash and follows the soldiers in front of him keeping low and avoiding the incoming shots. As one soldier gets hit and falls next to him, he grabs the fallen soldier's weapon; nearly falling down in his rush. Regaining his balance, P-T makes it to cover and props his body against the short wall of sand bags. As the gravity of his situation begins to hit P-T, he still has no idea why he is in an apparent war zone; yet he cannot deny that he is okay with it.
As many more soldiers run to cover from their drop ships, one bumps into P-T and sits next to him. As he looks to see who ran into him, P-T is relieved to see that it's the nice woman from the drop ship.
"Oh good! You've made it this far. Good job. I see that you found a rifle, too. Nice!" She pops up from her spot and fires several shots. "So, what the fuck are you waiting for?", firing several more rounds. "Look, I don't know what your fucking deal is. Just follow my lead okay? Now, all you need to do is just kill every last motherfucker over on that side and we'll win. Fun right?", she says excitedly in between breaths. "Come on, they're not going to kill themselves so get with it." She reaches around the corner of her cover; firing off several shots.
P-T decides he has no other choice and begins to shoot at the opposing force as well. However, everything slows down incredibly, as if time has slowed down. Through the weapons sight, he can see clearly the target's head. He fires multiple rounds at several different targets killing each with a headshot. In disbelief, P-T returns to cover, snapping out of the hyper state, and pauses for a second to grasp the reality of what just happened.
"Come on, keep firing.", says the woman as she continues to shoot her weapon.
P-T turns to shoot, but a laser round hits him right in the hand cutting off several fingers at the knuckle. He reflexively grasps his wounded hand; dropping the rifle. As he coddles his damaged appendages, strange and painful sensations familiar to the sensations he felt back at the lab, overwhelm his injured hand. He watches in wonderment as his hand quickly regenerates.
The woman returns to cover to see P-T sitting there looking at his hand. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop staring at your fucking hand, and shoot at some fucking Kanggun cocksuckers!"
P-T snapping out of his trance, grabs the rifle and starts shooting again. As he keeps shooting the world becomes increasingly bright until it all vanishes in a white light.
"Dr. Weiland, he's coming to.", says a familiar voice. Once her face comes into focus, he sees Cynthia, one of the nurses who examined him when he first got to Fiortega.
Dr. Larry face comes into view leaning over P-T, he says, "There he is. Wow! Do you know how to fucking party, my friend. I don't know if it's a tolerance from alcohol or your nanites, but you took enough tranquilizer to kill at least five Tyrannosaurus Rexes. In case you don't know what those are, they were giant, ancient beast brought back from extinction on Earth. As a precaution, we brought the tranqs for the astronomical possibility of meeting any large, unruly beast on other planets. That is, of course, barring any fatal reaction to the tranquilizer, but you never know."
P-T tries to struggle from his restraints on the examination table he is strapped to. However, he is quickly exhausted from the attempt.
"You needn't struggle so much with your restraints. We have to keep you heavily sedated. We've tapered it back just enough to keep you barely awake so we can have our little talk. Besides, you wouldn't get that far. It's funny, we literally needed to dope you into a coma and then reduce the dosage 'oh-so-slightly' until you come back. We didn't want to be at risk of you being too strong.", says Dr. Larry. "It took a quite a bit of convincing to not kill you. Forget what you did to our security guards. Thirty families destroyed. Some were fathers... mothers... brothers, sisters, sons and daughters, but never mind that. It was what you did to Leliana that was plenty for Dr. Hisk, who has pretty high authority around here. It would be in your best interests if you don't piss him off any further."
P-T tries to sit up to get a bearing as to where he is at and how to escape. All he can manage to see, though, is his pot belly rising and falling with each breath and the tips of his toes. A restraint around his neck keeps him from moving up further.
Dr. Larry says, "Nurse you can leave us for a moment. I'll take it from here."
Out of P-T's view Cynthia replies, "Yes sir." The sound of the hard soles of her shoes tapping the hard surface as she walks away. Once the sound of the door closes, Dr. Larry continues his talk with P-T.
"Now that we have a moment alone, let's get down to it. You know what your problem is? You lack motivation. Plain and simple. You see, as we both know, you literally have no interest in helping our planet from escaping enslavement from a bullshit war. If I was you, I'd probably feel the same. As you can see, that's a problem for us. A formidable force such as yourself would be such a great ally."
P-T, irritated by the speech, says "Just fucking come out with it! You're boring me to death."
"Now, now, tsk, tsk. You mustn't be so rude all the time. It makes it difficult for people to like you.", says Dr. Larry smugly. "Where was I, ah yes, motivation. You need motivation to help us. I highly doubt that promiscuous women and booze would be enough procure your talents long enough. However, I've come to the conclusion that it's the most basic motivation of all life in the universe that will get you to come around. Do you know what I'm referring to?"
P-T still struggling in his restraints grunts out, "Fuck you!"
"Wrong answer my dear friend. However, I will say that you are close.", says Dr. Larry gloating over P-T. "Survival! That's what all life wants to do. Survive. For sentient beings, we all know that we all have a dismal end coming to us one way or another. There's just no way around that."
Dr. Larry leans in closer to P-T's face with a look of lubricious envy. "You... and you, my magnificent enigma, I wonder... will death truly come knocking at your door. Is it possible that you could live for eons from now, should you live a more peaceful life? As old as I am, I am forced to make peace with the notion of death, that is, until you arrived. You are going to unlock the fabled fountain of youth for me and for mankind."
"I'll fucking drown you in that fountain.", says P-T.
"You're not the brightest star in the sky, are you? There's not enough time to explain what I'm referring to, but fortunately I've found a way to disable your nanites, making you vulnerable like ordinary people. To give you a little demonstration, I've already deactivated your nanites. To show you that I'm not fucking around, I'm going to remove this toe."
P-T, looking down over his belly, sees Dr. Larry holding a pair of medicinal snips on his second toe on his left foot.
"I decided only to cut a small toe off, just in case I can't reactivate your nanites.", says Dr. Larry light heartedly. As he grabs the toe next to the big one, and tries to cut through the bone. Dr. Larry is grunting away, squeezing the snips with all of his might, until he hears a loud pop.
Meanwhile, P-T is thrashing from side to side in efforts to get loose, as the pain shoots up his leg. Refusing to scream out, P-T grunts out gritting his teeth.
"Oops, I thought it would be easier, like pruning trees in my yard. I can definitely say you didn't make it easier for me either, so I guess that's a win for you. It's okay, you don't have to play the tough guy routine with me. I'm sure that really hurts.", says Dr. Larry with a grin on his face. "Here, let see if we make it better." He reaches down and taps a key on the keyboard activating P-T's nanites.
P-T can feel the nanites work their way into the wound and rebuild his toe. He tries to focus all of his energy into morphing his way out, but something is preventing him.
"What a nice trick you can do! So...do you think you can play nice with the rest of us? I know that you are stubborn so I'll make this easy for you. You are going to kill whatever is in those four vessels and you're not going to harm another person from Fiortega, especially me. If you kill me, you die. If you kill another citizen of Fiortega, you die. If you.... I’m sure 'even you' must understand the consequences if you don't do what I want by now. You might be asking yourself why you will do all of this? Like I said, plain and simple.... survival."
Dr. Larry then taps a key on the keyboard, "You have seventy-two hours to complete your mission or your nanites will consume you completely from the inside out. Nurse!"
The door opens up, Cynthia re-enters the room. "Have security come and take our friend here to the brig until they are ready for him.", says Dr. Larry. "Oh P-T, one more thing... tick tock.", as he lets out a creepy laugh.
Four guards enter the tiny room with the nurse, and begin to cautiously remove the examination table restraints one at a time, and put P-T in mobile restraints. Securing him tightly and egregiously, until they roll him out of the room and head to the brig.
Chapter 12
Lying in a small dark room, still tied to the gurney he was brought on, P-T feels the loosening of the restraints due to his progressing weight loss. The passing seconds feel like hours as he knows that time is very limited and the uncertainty of when he'll be let out weighs heavily on his mind. Something doesn't feel right about his nanites, as they aren't responding to his will as they usually do.
During his struggles, he feels the restraints continue to give way to his slimming body, until they've been slipped off entirely. Waiting for the door to open, P-T sits quietly plotting on how he will kill Dr. Larry.
After several hours, the door finally opens up letting fluorescent light pour in, practically blinding P-T. At the entrance, there are three heavily armed guards dressed in full riot gear standing in the threshold with their weapons drawn and pointed at P-T. Around the corner of the door are a dozen more guards all ready for combat. P-T seeing the group to retrieve him says, "I s'pose none of you fuckers got anything to eat."
"Shut your fucking face!", says one of the guards. "Get on your feet now!".
P-T reluctantly gets up holding his hands up to show no resistance. As he does, he lets out a big sigh as he moves towards the door. With eac
h step, all the guards react nervously, stepping backwards quickly to keep their distance, unavoidably showing their fear of P-T.
Once out of the room, he sees all of the guards that they brought to retrieve him, which brings a smile to his face. Along with the guards, there are two men who are not dressed in riot gear waiting to meet him. One very much older, dressed in an attire different from anything that P-T has seen before. The man is wearing a tailored suit with some markings on it as if it is signifying importance. The younger man is wearing a light brown jumpsuit.
"I'm General Fontenot, this is Sargent Aldelay.", says the older man. "He will be your pilot for the mission. He'll bring you up to speed on the details on the way to your ship."
P-T looks at both men with his usual stone faced look, as they all stand there in the awkward silence. Sargent Aldelay decides to get things moving and says, "This way.", clearing a path down the hallway for P-T to walk.
