by Ben Winston
"I thought Virgin bought Qantas?" Jarad asked.
Carl shook his head. "Nope, they tried, but the deal fell through."
"Well, have fun!" Jarad said as he left the office.
It turned out that Jarad and his team were almost too late. While he was correct in assuming they would take her to one of the 'safe houses' he underestimated how close the chosen one was to the capitol.
Joyce and her team provided support and air cover while Jarad and a team of Marines prepared to assault the small convoy. Sharon placed a holographic projector that showed a collapsed bridge, the other two sleds hacked the vehicles and shut them down. The assault shuttle jammed communications until all the vehicles were stopped and then stunned the occupants of the vehicles closest to the one carrying the president and her wife. That left two vehicles full of intelligence agents at each end of the convoy able to fight.
The hypersleds used particle projection cannons to keep the agents pinned down. They would do the least damage to the environment and wouldn't blind the agents. That didn't stop Jarad's team from using stun grenades on them though. Once the agents were neutralized, the shuttle landed beside the big SUV holding the President and her wife, loaded them and the team up, and took off just as reinforcements arrived from the 'farm' they had been heading to. The assault had been close enough that the agents guarding the property had heard the weapons fire.
Joyce reset the vehicle systems and escorted the shuttle back to the moon. The entire assault took less than an hour and left the intelligence community scratching their heads. They had the additional worry of what would happen now that they no longer had control of the President.
When the President came to, she was confused until she saw the armor on the soldiers, and Jarad's smiling face.
"Welcome to the Terran Defense Initiative, Madam President," Jarad replied.
Wilma sighed and nodded as she grinned. "Thank you, Agent Danielson. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it. How's Sherry?" she asked taking the hand of the unconscious woman next to her.
"Sleeping off the rest of the stun, Ma'am. She should be awake shortly," one of the Marines replied. On the Marine's left breast plate was a small red cross denoting him as the squad medic.
Wilma smiled at him. "Thanks Doc." She looked back at Jarad. "I'm not really the President anymore, if anything I'm just an escaped mental patient."
"Madam President, they were not taking you to Walter Reed Memorial for evaluation. They were taking you out to one of their isolated 'safe houses' to kill you," Jarad replied. "Even retired presidents still retain their title; besides, I'm not an agent anymore either."
Wilma nodded. "I kind of thought that was the case. If they had been really taking me to Walter Reed, they would have put us in the chopper and not an SUV. So, what happens to us now?"
"Officially? I have no idea how the intel folks are going to play it. Most likely, they'll claim we kidnapped or killed you in an effort to spread distrust about us." He shrugged, "We'll deal with that when it happens. As far as what will happen when we get to the moon, that's mostly up to you. Greg only wanted me to save you if you needed it; he didn't leave any other instructions. I suppose we'll officially grant you political asylum or something, but what happens is mostly up to you and your wife to decide."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see how this plays out on Earth before deciding how to handle it. Neither of us have any skill that would be of use to you. Our whole lives have been wrapped up in politics and that's the only thing I've ever been good at," Wilma replied.
"Not true, Hon," Sherry said from beside her. "Yes, you've been into politics since we were in high school, but your strength has always been in economics. In fact, that's what won you the last election if you remember; the people wanted someone that could get a handle on that monster deficit. You would have had it, too, if not for the damn Senate!"
"I think it might go a bit deeper than just the Senate, Sherry. We did make some inroads, and we did reduce it quite a bit, but I imagine that will change pretty rapidly now that Justin will be taking office," Wilma said. "That man can't even balance his own checkbook!" She turned back to look at Jarad. "I don’t mean to change the subject, but how is Greg doing? They've kept us pretty isolated the last could of days so we haven't heard anything."
"Currently, he's still in surgery, but at this point…" Jarad said but was interrupted by Wilma.
"Wait, another surgery? What for this time?"
"You have been out of the loop. The doctors told Greg that he was recovering nicely, but they would be unable to regrow his left leg due to the amount of damage suffered in that area. So, he opted for a cybernetic leg. The scary part of that is that we are not exactly like the humans Abraxis has records of in his database, and this procedure has never been performed on one of us. Basically, everything about it is experimental.
"In the humans Abraxis has records of, this procedure had an almost twenty percent failure rate. However, because Greg is a Ranger, his body has been scanned and mapped in far more detail than a standard citizen would have been. That increases his odds by about ten percent.
"If it fails, the best case is he will be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Worst case is he won't wake up from the surgery. Because of the nature of this procedure, if it fails, it cannot be attempted again. But, even knowing the odds, he chose this," Jarad replied.
"I thought your Alliance medical technology was very advanced; this should be a walk in the park, right?" Sherry asked.
"Normally, it would be. But the type of damage Greg suffered has a major effect on this. He was exposed to a lot of exotic radiation that affected the nerves and internal organs. The medical AI involved in the case projected a minimum of ten hours for the surgery." He looked at his watch. "They are fifteen minutes into the eleventh hour now."
Struve Rim Training Base
Medical Center
Struve Crater, Selene
Earth's Moon, Sol System
Waking up this time wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was more like waking up from a regular sleep than from surgery. Slowly, he became aware of pain. He could feel both his legs and they hurt; they both hurt.
Greg groaned from the pain which got Beth's attention. She turned from the monitor she was checking and looked down at him. "Welcome back, how are you feeling?"
"Damn Doc, if I'd have known it was going to hurt this much I would have taken the dumb leg!" Greg replied. "Jesus this hurts!"
"I know Greg, and I'm sorry for it, but we can't give you any pain killers yet. We had to purge what was in your system in order to make the neural connections. Now we need to make sure they're connected before we can give you anymore. Let me call Glen and Gail and we'll get it taken care of," Beth replied.
"Okay, do what you need to. I promise I won't run away," Greg said, gritting his teeth.
"Doctor Grien, I have notified your colleagues and they are on their way," a soft baritone voice said into the room.
Beth smiled. "Thank you Leonard. May I introduce you to our patient?"
"Please do Doctor," the voice replied.
"Greg, it is my honor and privilege to introduce you to Struve Base's Medical AI, Leonard McCoy, MD. Leonard, this is Ranger Fighter Greg Albright, Commander of our Alliance Military Forces," Beth finished.
"It is a true honor to make your acquaintance Commander Albright. However, I do wish it could have been under better circumstances," the AI replied.
"I do too, Bones. I'd like to thank you for your part in helping me get better. As I understand it, this latest surgery was not your normal thing," Greg replied.
"You are very welcome. No, your case is not normal in most contexts. In many ways, you are a very fascinating person, Sir." The AI replied.
"I think I'll take that as a complement, Bones. Beth explained why I can't have any pain killers right now, but could one of you please explain why it hurts so damn bad to begin with?" Greg asked.
"Certainly Commander. To put it in the simplest possible terms, your body is reacting to trauma of the alterations we made to it. In time, your body will adjust to those alterations. As it adjusts, the pain will decrease until you no longer feel it. Try to look at it this way; when you are wounded, the pain you feel is your body telling you something has changed. Over time, as it heals, the pain diminishes. The pain you are feeling right now is because you have not healed from the surgery," Leonard explained. "We will administer analgesics once we have verified that what was done is working correctly. The doctors would have been here already except you awoke sooner than predicted."
"Ah, okay," Greg replied. "How long did it take?"
"Thirteen hours, twenty one minutes," Beth replied. "I won't bore you with the details but we had to do a bit more work in there than we had anticipated. It seems the type of radiation you were exposed to prohibited the nerve clusters from forming. So we had to create artificial ones as an interface between you and the leg."
"Okay, so why can I feel the leg, but not move it?" Greg asked.
"We have the motor control system extremely retarded at the moment. We'll adjust it as we go to minimize the stress on the hip joint. Once the hip finishes healing and you learn to control the leg, those restrictions will no longer be needed," Leonard replied.
"Intellectually, I understand that. But it's really hard to accept it when I'm in this much pain," Greg replied.
"Well, then, let's get this over with so we can give you some good drugs!" Glen Hasbro said from the doorway.
Gail got him first. She tested his tactile responses and feeling. Making sure he could feel with the artificial nerves in his new leg. She poked him with blunt and sharp instruments then checked for warm and cold with a flat tool and finally, she used a feather to tickle him.
At first, his responses were exaggerated. When she poked him it felt like he'd been shot, and cried out. She made some adjustments on one of the machines he was hooked up to and he was surprised to feel the pain in that leg subside greatly. He told them that too.
"I owe you an apology, Greg," Gail told him with real regret on her face. "I thought I had the sensitivity turned way down, but it looks like it wasn't far enough. The settings I had were actually amplifying the pain somewhat, and I am sorry for that."
Once she got the settings dialed in, he still hurt, but it not nearly as bad. "Thanks Doc; this is a first for all of us, so don't worry so much about hurting me. Now you know where the settings should be, so you'll have a better idea next time if you need to do this again."
She smiled at him. "It was a mistake I should not have made, Greg. I guess those artificial clusters are far more sensitive than we imagined."
"Well, it does still hurt, but it's more of a dull, throbbing ache now than like it was before," Greg replied.
"Okay, I think you're about where you should be now. We can look at it again later when more of the pain has subsided," Gail replied.
When she stepped back, Hasbro took her place. "Before we start, I will also apologize. What I'm going to ask you to do is going to hurt; maybe a lot. We need to know if the connections are right, but because of the stress on the hip, the motor response has been reduced. It's going to feel like your leg is buried under concrete. Ready to start?"
Greg nodded. "Sure, only way to get it over with right?"
Glen smiled at him. "Okay, try moving your toes for me,"
Greg concentrated but couldn't move. Glen nodded and typed on the same console Gail had worked on. "I'm increasing the response factor. Please try again."
It took a while, but he did get his toes to move. Glen had him move up the leg slowly and made adjustments almost every step of the way. By the time they got up to the hip, Greg was sweating and really gritting his teeth against the pain.
"One last test, and this one will be the hardest; I need you to try to lift your leg slightly. If I tell you to stop, please do so immediately." Glen instructed.
By the time Greg got the leg to lift even slightly off the bed, he was in tears. Glen told him to stop and Greg gratefully relaxed those muscles and let the leg fall back to the bed. He groaned. "Physical therapy is going to suck so bad!"
Before he heard a reply, he felt the mellow wash of a pain killer flowing over him, muting the pain and making him groggy.
"There, is that better?" Beth asked.
"Whoa. Damn Beth, did you just pour a gallon of whiskey in my IV or something?" Greg asked.
"Nope, something much better. In about five minutes, that'll put you back to sleep. We need to get the last of the anesthetic out of your system and sleeping will help you heal. You'll be out until tomorrow morning, so we're going to let Leonard close up the bed so he can keep working on your hip. I'll let the family know how you’re doing, but you won't get any visitors until tomorrow after lunch," Beth replied.
Greg nodded slowly: the drugs were really hitting him. "Good prognosis then?"
Gail nodded to him. "So far everything looks pretty good. So yes, good prognosis, but only time will tell. You could still reject the graft, but there is no indication of that yet."
"Cool," Greg replied and closed his eyes. He was asleep.
Medical and Cybernetic Center
Monlith Prime
Monlith System
Drellian Imperial Directorate
"Harkness Thyreen, our Master has a mission for you."
"I guess you hadn't heard, Prime; my team is dead. Go torture someone else," the human replied.
"I know your team is dead, Harkness. This mission will not require a team, just you," the deep voice of the Prime Nexus replied. "While you were asleep, I down loaded the mission files to you as well as any special skill and languages you will need. I have also prepared a craft for you. Your hypersled would be detected by the local Ranger teams."
"What do you mean 'downloaded'? I am not a machine like you, Prime. I'm human; I don't have processors and memory," Harkness replied.
"While you still retain the outward appearance of being human, you are, in fact, no longer human; or rather, no longer just human," Prime said. "You have been cybernetically enhanced to have greater strength, speed, and intelligence than you had before. Basically, all of your racial weaknesses have been corrected. Now you are a perfect warrior for our Master."
"I’m a perfect warrior? I am surprised you let me live; I failed to contain the uprising on my planet, resulting in the loss of my team and our base there," Harkness replied.
"Your planet has been dealt with, Harkness. The failure on your planet was not of your doing. You no longer need worry about it," Prime replied. "Your ship is awaiting you on pad twenty-three, delta. You will depart at once. You will be briefed on the mission after you have made the jump to hyperspace. End of Line."
'It's nice to know I still have a purpose,' Harkness thought to himself. 'But I wonder what Prime meant by having dealt with Syrandia?'
With that thought in his head, Ranger Fighter Harkness Thyreen put on his flight suit and headed for pad twenty-three delta. He was still thinking about the people of his homeworld when he arrived and saw a large passenger shuttle waiting on the landing pad.
'Well, Prime did say my hypersled would be detected, but wouldn't this be much easier for them to detect?' He asked himself. To make certain, he sought out the flight operations officer.
"Flight Master, I am Fighter Thyreen. Is that ship out there the one for me?"
"It is, Fighter. It is the most advanced spyship I've ever built," the officer said. "I've made sure there is a full briefing on its systems available to you. Also, Prime was very specific on how we were to outfit it. You should be very comfortable on your journey."
"I do not understand, how were you told to outfit it?" Harkness asked.
"We rigged it almost like a personal luxury craft. It is designed for you to live in for an extended period of time, yet still be able to perform a wide variety of functions; all without being detected," the officer replied proudly.
/> "Not detected? It's a stealth ship then?" Harkness asked.
The officer nodded his head. "Very much so. It has the latest stealth technology we have built into it. Like I said, there is a full briefing awaiting you," the officer replied.
"Very well, I will be going then. Thank you for your time and efforts, Flight Officer," Harkness replied.
"It was my duty, Fighter. Say, aren't you Syrandian?" the officer asked.
"Yes I am," Harkness replied, curious.
"Ah, my condolences then. May your people find peace in the next world. Safe Journey Fighter," the officer said and moved off to his next job.
Harkness watched him go, wondering what he meant by that. Syrandia was a thriving world of ten billion that produced food for other planets in their sector. It had always been peaceful until…
Prime said Syrandia had been dealt with.
In order to quell the rebellion on the planet, Prime had destroyed it before the rebellion could spread. His home was now gone. Utterly and totally gone. Ten billion souls, men and women who worked to provide food for other worlds, destroyed because they wanted better health care and improved living conditions.
Numbly, Harkness turned and boarded the shuttle. He launched and noticed that there was already a flight plan programmed into the navigational computer. Once in orbit, he turned on the autopilot and let the craft do the flying. After it made the preprogrammed jump into hyperspace, he left the cockpit to investigate the rest of the ship.
It was a small freighter that had been turned into a luxury yacht. However, there did seem to be a rather large part of the ship that had been dedicated to the computers and data storage. He got himself a hot cup of janvra and took a seat in the lounge are of the ship.
As soon as he sat down, his eyes closed, and his head tipped back to rest on the cushion behind him. The data Prime had mentioned flowed into his brain from his new internal computer systems. There was a lot of information. He was surprised to see that his objective was a planet of humans. Although slightly smaller, this planet was almost identical to what Syrandia had been. However, they had not developed even interplanetary space flight. Greed and corruption were rampant on the world and his mission was to use that condition to subvert them into becoming vassals of the Empire.
