 
### Broken Soldier

The original story is copyright 2015 by Bruce George. All rights reserved.

Reedited 2019

With Illustrations added

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

***

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### Broken Soldier

Table of Contents

Prelude

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

The End

Index of characters and items of interest

Prelude

Stealthy micro drones had been watching the male human for three days. The two prosthetic legs he wore made tracking him easy. He certainly couldn't run away. Once there was a pattern of behavior established, the alien creature who controlled the watchful eyes felt comfortable about putting his plan into effect.

In the long run, his idea had little chance of success and he knew it. Still, when he weighed the alternatives, a small chance seemed more attractive than doing nothing while waiting for a horrible death to befall him, not to mention what might happen to the people of the human's planet.

This unfortunate race called humans, went about their daily lives in ignorance of the fate that awaited them. If the alien did nothing to help them, they would be enslaved or murdered to extinction. He had to do something to help them avoid the tragic catastrophe that had befallen his people.

The insect sized micro-drone floated around the tree branches and beneath low shrubs, seeing everything he did and said, not that the man talked very much. He did sing a few lines from his late wife's favorite song. Occasionally he uttered a curse word, when his prey scurried away before he could capture the illusive aquatic creature.

The micro-eyes were infinitely patient. They had no emotion to compel them into doing something foolish that might expose them. The alien controlling them was in no hurry either. It was obvious the human would eventually finish his quest for the small fish and return to the trap that awaited him.

Chapter 1

Mike Hurst had been fishing here all his life and he knew this part of the river quite well. Cautiously, he moved out into the shallows, pleased that his prosthetic legs held up well against the rapidly moving current. By carefully placing his feet on the rocky bottom, he became one with the crystal clear waters.

With a flick of his wrist, the thin filament line traveled back and forth three feet from his head. The sound of it pleased him and evoked a memory of times spent here in his youth. That had been many years ago and it remained one of his favorite memories.

He didn't care if he caught anything or not. That wasn't entirely true, because he did like to win. Where fishing was concerned, winning meant pulling in as many trout as the law allowed. Still, just being there, standing awkwardly in the gurgling water, was reward enough for him that day.

Fly-fishing at this spot had been one of his most cherished recollections, and he had reflected on those memories, as he recovered from that horrible explosion during the 1991 Gulf War in Iraq. He was one of three survivors in a squad of eight men, who had helped take Kuwait back from Sadam Hussein's army.

***

Staff Sergeant Hurst's company had seen little action in the drive north, into Iraq. He didn't know it, at the time, but it would be the last day of the conflict for the allied forces.

On the fourth day, his battalion had been tasked with providing perimeter protection for Forward Operation Base (FOB) Viper, which was primarily a helicopter refueling and rearming site for the 101st Airborne Div. The worst of the fighting was over. Just a few miles south of their position, the northern outskirts of Al Busayyah had been bypassed. Yet, it could still pose a threat to the FOB. So, it had to be double checked.

The company commander, Captain Parker, had summoned him. When he walked into the tent, Mike saluted sharply, announcing, "Staff Sergeant Hurst reporting as ordered, sir."

The CO held a sheet of paper in his hand, looked Mike in the eye and said, "Staff Sergeant," he paused and chuckled, before saying, "I've got good news and bad news. This piece of paper just arrived telling me that you were promoted to Sergeant First Class eight days ago." Capt. Parker held out his hand, saying, "Congratulations, Mike. You've certainly earned it."

"Thank you, sir."

After a brief pause, The Captain told him, "And now for the bad news. You know Sergeant Kilgore busted his kneecap. He was just walking over to get some chow and he tripped on a damned tent peg and landed knee first on a rock. He made me promise not to put him in for a purple heart."

Mike smiled, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that the bad news was still to come.

The Captain's smile quickly vanished. "Well Sergeant First Class Hurst, I need you to take over his squad for the rest of this operation. I know it's unusual to assign a Sergeant First Class for a menial job, but the alternative would be to put a less experienced Corporal in charge. I want a combat vet with some savvy to take Kilgore's squad into northern Al Busayyah to be sure there's not any substantial force present that could threaten the FOB.

"Check with Lt. Simak, in Intelligence, for the details and the exact location we need checked out. We've been told there doesn't seem to be anything sizable hanging around out there. But I'd feel better if we looked for ourselves."

"Will do, Sir."

So, he took seven men out to see what was what. He knew these men, but not as well as their squad leader, Sergeant Kilgore. Still, they seemed to have their act together.

Five hours later, Iraqi snipers opened fire, quickly killing two of his men and the remaining six had taken refuge in the nearest building.

It had been foolish for all of them to bunch up like that, defying all their training. The men should have known better. But when two members of their squad fell so suddenly to snipers, everyone jumped to the safest looking place they could find and that had been the nearest doorway.

He screamed for them to quickly clear the other rooms. Just as the men began to leave the room and check out the building, a woman came running out of a back room, screaming as she set off the explosive device she wore.

He vaguely remembered a blinding light. The next thing he recalled was lying in a hospital bed, with a tent over his legs and feeling heavily medicated. Mike was in and out of consciousness for several days, before he was able to realize he had lost both legs, just above the knees. The bandage over his left eye indicated that was gone as well.

The doctors kept telling him he was lucky to have survived, but that didn't make the reality of it any easier to deal with. The most frustrating aspect of being wounded was that no one could tell him what had happened to the other men in the squad. He knew he was in a hospital in Germany, although he had no memory of being transported there. It was so frustrating that none of the doctors or medics had the answer to that question, which he repeatedly asked.

After four days of drifting in and out of sleep, his sedatives were reduced, and he began to face reality. A corporal came by, holding a clipboard and introduced himself. "I'm Corporal Tagert and you must be Staff Sergeant Michael Hurst."

"Yeah, I'm Hurst. Actually, I was promoted to Sergeant First Class."

"Oh. Sorry for the mistake. I'm with recovery services and I am here to help you adjust to your new situation. Is there anything I can do for you...anything I can get you?"

"Yeah there is. What happened to my men?"

Tagert flipped a few pages on his clipboard and told him, "That's one of the most common questions I get from the wounded. We try to gather this info as quickly as possible for all the men involved. We do that for the wounded and for the troops still in the field who want to know your status, as well.

"I see here that there were eight men in your squad and all but three of you survived. The report they sent is rather lean on details. It does say a suicide bomber charged into a room and lit you up. You, Corporal Alphonso Benson and Private First Class Denerious Jackson were the only survivors.

"I'm sorry about the other men, Sergeant. It's always difficult when you lose men in combat."

He tried to recall the faces of the other two survivors, but Benson was the only one he could picture. "Benson and Jackson, the only others to make it? Damn, I barely knew them."

Then he asked, "What about my wife? Has she been notified about my condition yet?"

Tagert looked down at his clipboard, and then told him, "The Army has notified her that you were wounded and now in Germany. She was not told about the extent of your wounds."

Tagert was about to ask him whether he wanted her to be informed as to the nature of his wounds, when Mike explained, "I was with that squad, but it wasn't really mine. I was a replacement. Their Sergeant was injured, and I got assigned to the patrol."

Mike looked away and mumbled, "I didn't really know any of them, but they were sure as hell my men to my way of thinking. I should have immediately had the men spread out to the other rooms. I might have saved a few lives."

Tagert smiled and told him, "You did save lives, Sergeant. You saved yours and Benson's and Jackson's. Corporal Benson told me that you tripped the woman who came running into the room. When she fell, most of the explosives were facing down at the floor. So, the force of it went out from beneath her.

"You lost both legs and an eye, because you were closest to the blast. Benson lost his left foot and Jackson lost both of his. If you hadn't reacted as quickly as you did, everyone in that room would have been killed. Per this report, what did the most damage was an RPG that hit the room right after the suicide bomber got to you guys. If you weren't already down, you would have bought the farm"

Mike hated hearing some rear echelon pencil pusher try to sound like a combat veteran.

Still, on that day, and in that theater, the squad was his and he was supposed to see that they came back alive. That responsibility weighed heavily on him and his expression must have revealed that.

Tagert told him, "I see this sort of emotion all the time. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's called survivors guilt. That feeling that you didn't do enough and that you don't deserve to be alive. But you're wrong to think that way. Under the circumstances, you did what you could and did it in a microsecond. You're a hero, Sergeant, although you don't feel like one at the moment. You saved your life and the lives of two good men."

Mike asked, "Where are they now? Is Jackson near by?"

"Jackson's here. Benson flew out two days ago. You, Jackson and several others will be going back home in a few weeks. The docs just want to be sure you're stable and strong enough, before they fly you out of here."

***

His fishing line jerked slightly, bringing him out of his daydream. A trout nibbled at the fly and spit it out, before hitting it hard. Mike instinctively yanked on the rod, sinking the hook firmly in the fish's jaw. He had to allow the fish to run with the line. If he didn't, the powerful trout would snap the thin line, or more likely, yank his mouth free of the hook.

But Mike was an experienced trout fisherman and he loved to play a fish. He enjoyed the game of give and take, before he reeled it in. Once he had it in his net, he looked at it and announced, "Welcome home big boy." Then he dumped it in his creel and attached a new fly to the end of his line.

After two more fish had joined their brothers in his basket, he carefully withdrew from the water and sat on a felled tree trunk to remove the waders he wore. His prosthetic legs fit nicely into them, but it was hell getting them out. With several fishing trips under his belt, he had given up on trying to pull the artificial legs out of the tight fitting rubber waders. With the prosthetic limbs still inside the waders, he detached each one, and then took his time removing them from the boot portion of the wader.

As he reattached his artificial legs, the continuing muscular atrophy of his right leg made it impossible to get a good fit with the prosthetic. He mumbled, "Looks like it's time to get another leg fitted. Damn I hate going to the VA hospital for that. I'll be waiting in line for hours, just to get it sized, and then I'll have to go back for a final fit. Sometimes I wish the damn suicide bitch had killed me. It would have made things easier for everyone."

He chastised himself for such thoughts. His son would certainly disagree and so would his late wife.

Sherry, the love of his life, had passed away nineteen years after Desert Storm. She had been his rock for most of his adult life. Being the wife of a career Army enlisted man was a challenge for any woman. When he was on deployment, the long periods were hard on them both. To stay busy, she had gone back to college, earned a degree, and then began teaching American History at a local high school.

For a while, she made more money than he did. That wasn't entirely true, because of the benefits of being able to live on base and having the use of the Post Exchange and medical services. It all added up to a nice package, if only the soldier didn't have to go on deployment.

They wanted children; but being prudent about the expense of raising a child, they waited until he made corporal to even try. By the time Sherry became pregnant, he had just made sergeant. At the time of Wayne's birth, she was thirty years old and Mike was thirty-two. Having a child, at an age older than most Army couples, made no difference to either of them. Their little boy was the apple of daddy's eye and Sherry adored the boy and doted over him as much as she could.

Some wives made it very clear they didn't want their sons or daughters to join the army. But Sherry was Army all the way, God bless her. She bought a tiny set of camos and had little Wayne's picture taken in them and sent Mike the picture. He proudly carried it with him all through Ranger School. That ordeal had been a real bitch, at his age, but he made it and was extremely proud to wear the shoulder patch.

***

With his creel filled with trout to the legal limit and the light getting dim, he carefully made his way back to the old beat up cabin, in north Georgia. It had been in the family for three generations and had been the scene of many wonderful fishing and hunting trips.

A very bright flashlight appeared close to the front door, surprising him, as it shined in his eyes. An odd mechanical bass voice asked, "Sergeant First Class Michael Hurst?"

"Yeah, that's me. Who are you, and get that damned light out of my face."

That was the last thing he remembered.

Chapter 2

The alien's luck had held thus far, which he found amazing. He knew such a unique opportunity must not be wasted. If he had any chance of reaching safety, he absolutely had to enlist the help of humans, even though it would be against the laws of the Galactic Council.

The people of Earth had come a long way, technologically. Yet, they still had a very long way to go before they could hold their own in this arm of the galaxy. By the alien's estimation, humans were nearly two thousand years behind the races that made up the Galactic Council.

After a brief period of preparation, he loaded the small shuttle with supplies and departed the large interstellar transport. It was remotely possible the military forces on the planet might notice his vessel, even though it very stealthy. Thus, he would need to approach the Earth carefully and at a steady rate of speed. By galactic standards it was agonizingly slow.

Human's worldwide communications via the internet was a good first step for them, although ridiculously easy to hack. Any of the advanced races of the galaxy had cyber capabilities that could crack human codes designed to keep out probing efforts by their enemies. However, the alien was impressed by some of the unusual program constructs humans had designed to protect their information, especially by the major governments, which was understandable.

During the trip to the human's planet, he spent his time breaking into secure files, in pursuit of the optimal person he should recruit. The alien needed just the right human; one who was not arrogant, yet wise and experienced in combat. He quickly ruled out most Generals and Admirals, due to their huge egos and the way they advanced through the ranks, using politics to further their careers. A man who was wise, yet humble would suit his needs best.

He searched the backgrounds of various men and women who might be the best choice for a leader who could begin the awkward process of bringing humans up to a level of capability that might mesh with other galactic races.

So, he studied as many files as possible to find the best person to recruit, millions of them in fact. With the aid of an amazing computer, the creature's mind worked at a pace that exceeded the most accomplished human brain ever known.

His selection was a gamble, yet he felt he had made a good choice. The person he had chosen was a decorated, disabled war veteran and a student of ancient Earth history. What the alien liked about the man most was his integrity. It shown forth in everything he had done.

It had taken significant effort to locate the right man. Of course, there was no way to be sure the human would work out. If not, he would wipe his memory clean of alien contact and returned him to the very same spot he was captured. Then the search would begin anew.

Now the alien was about to put the first phase of his plan into effect. He knew the human would be furious about what had been done to him, or possibly feel joy beyond belief. Most likely both. The creature's hope hung on whether this man would grasp the real threat to humanity.

***

Something was laying over Mike's eyes, preventing him from seeing. When he tried to move, he felt the straps on his arms and legs that had him pinned to a slab. Where his hands and feet touched it, he detected the cold of a thinly padded table.

WHAT THE HELL! For years he used to get pains in his non-existent legs, but never anything like this. It felt so real and he could feel the pull of the straps on his ankles. Because he was groggy, he knew he had been sedated with some sort of pharmaceutical; so maybe that explained the false sense of having legs. Mike just wanted to know what was going on and who had done this to him.

A low mechanical monotone voice spoke to him. "Relax Sergeant. You're doing fine. The med unit needs to sedate you again. When you awaken, you will be shown a video that should put your mind at ease."

"Where...I..." His thoughts quickly disappeared, as he faded out of consciousness.

Music...he heard music. To be accurate, it sounded like some God awful elevator music.

Mike opened his eyes and the pure white light felt like needles piercing his pupils. The lights dimmed automatically and changed to a soft amber hue, as though someone was watching his reaction and accorded him the courtesy of reducing the bright glare.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. The shock of it struck him hard. He was seeing out of both eyes. Whoever had captured him had seen to the repair of his sight. More than once, he had been told that was impossible.

He looked around and saw that he was in a very small room with white walls and a very high ceiling. On the wall behind him were a few medical devices, the likes of which he had never seen. They were meant to monitor his progress, or so he assumed. The odd smell of the room was akin to pancakes and bleach. While that didn't make him feel safe, it did seem to imply a sterile environment.

When he tried to move, he realized that he was still strapped down to a padded metal table. He must still be drugged, he thought, because he felt sluggish and heavy, as though gravity had increased.

The mechanical voice spoke to him again. "I will release the restraints now, Sergeant Hurst. For the next few days, the gravity will be kept at twice Earth normal. That will speed up your recovery, by stimulating the new elements of your body.

"You have nothing to fear from me. Just allow your body to heal and grow."

The straps that held him down automatically released, providing him freedom of movement. He tried to sit up, but found it difficult, as the press of gravity fought his effort.

"Please, Sergeant Hurst, lay back and watch the wall to your left. I'm going to show you a video that will begin to explain what has happened to you and why it happened."

The room darkened and the music changed to an orchestral piece he didn't recognize. Almost the entire left wall became a video screen. On it, he saw himself fishing, and then walking back to the cabin.

A woman's mechanical voice began to explain. "You have been watched for a few days, Sergeant Hurst and your military service record has been thoroughly researched. You have shown great courage, in the face of life threatening danger and demonstrated an ability to lead men in brutal combat. Also, and this is very important, you have shown that you can take life when it is necessary, but not to excess. That is a rare talent, in a universe where beings shoot first and ask questions later.

The voice added. "I believe that's a term you were taught in boot camp, was it not?"

Mike tried again to sit up again and made it this time, parking his naked rump on the cold thin pad of the metal slab. He called out angrily, "Who the hell are you?"

The video froze, with a picture of him lying on the ground, in front of the cabin. A different mechanical voice came on and told him, "I understand that you have questions, Sergeant. Also, I know that it isn't in your nature to be patient about getting answers. That's another reason why I selected you first. If you will remain calm, I'll continue the video, which will answer many of the questions you have, as you discover what has brought you to this crossroad in your life."

Who ever was speaking sighed, as though frustrated, which Mike found odd coming from a mechanized voice.

"I've created this video, after giving the situation a great deal of thought, Sergeant. I'm certain that it is far from perfect and it is my hope that you can help me improve it, when we recover other men, such as yourself. Again, I ask you to be tolerant of my efforts and watch the video."

The background music started up and he watched as an odd, four wheeled robot picked up his body and carried him to an oblong, boxy looking vehicle, behind the mountain cabin.

### Alien Shuttle

The woman's voice narrating the video told him, "Sergeant, you have been taken from your planet, by an alien being. I am not a monster and I don't intend to eat you. You are on a spacecraft and are currently on the far side of the planet your people call Jupiter.

"You have been gone for three weeks, as your eye and legs have begun to regenerate. My people need your services and I can assure you that your people, in time, will need your services as well.

"In this small craft, you are being conveyed to a large interstellar space Ship. I suppose humans would refer to it as the Mother ship. It is waiting for us, in the Kuiper belt. If you don't know what that is, it can be explained to you later. Think of it as thousands of asteroids, orbiting beyond the planet Neptune.

"A few countries of your planet have developed mildly effective devices for detecting asteroids and meteors that are close in to your part of the solar system. To avoid disturbing any of those countries, I set our speed relatively low for the initial distance we needed to travel. Now that we have moved out far enough from your star, I feel we are nearly undetectable. So, we can go much faster, as our presence is unlikely to be discovered. In human terms, we're traveling approximately four million miles per hour, or point zero zero six (.006) speed of light.

"If some country on Earth discovered us, word would spread around to the various militaries of your world and they would feel compelled to prepare for war. The sensors of my enemy might detect the increased military activity directed by your planet into space. That would trigger their concerns about your people, and they would view humans as a potential threat. I'm sure you wouldn't like the way they deal with threats."

The implication was that these other aliens would go to war with Earth. Could it really be that easy to trigger a confrontation with perfect strangers? His knowledge of human history said yes.

The woman's voice went silent, when the video stopped and the deeper toned mechanical voice asked, "Sergeant, would you like something to drink and perhaps some food. I took the liberty of seizing your supplies at the cabin, so you won't have to be concerned about eating anything unusual."

At the mention of food, he realized he was very thirsty and hungry.

"Yes, I'd appreciate it, especially some water. My mouth is dry."

"Of course, Sergeant."

A three-foot square section of the wall behind him opened and out rolled a tiny sink with a spigot. There was a metal cup sitting on the side. He placed it beneath the spigot and turned it on. What looked to be plain water came out.

"As you probably know, Sergeant, water is two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. It is basic throughout the universe. In space, we produce it and recycle it as well. It is as pure as you will ever find."

Mike took a sip to test it. Much to his relief, he found it cool and refreshing. A smaller hole opened, next to the sink and it contained the box of breakfast bars he had brought with him to the cabin.

All right, he thought, at least I'm not going to be starved to death.

As he chewed the oat and raisin bar, the video continued.

The woman explained, "Once we are on the Mother Ship, further improvements to your body can be made, which will allow us to communicate, without the aid of an interpretive device. My enemy created the one you have heard me speak through. They made little effort to have it sound like a human being.

"You would be unable to pronounce the name for them in my language or theirs. Your vocal cords are not adjustable enough to speak the full range of their language, much of which is in a lower frequency. However, with the addition of a biological interpreter to your brain stem, and some adjustments to your vocal cords, you will be able to speak within the range of several species."

That was a frightening revelation and Mike called out loudly, "Hey just one damn minute. You are not going to grow strange crap in my head."

The video stopped and the odd voice told him, "Sergeant, nothing will be done to you that you have not approved in advance. There are several improvements to your body that will help you to survive out here. I can assure you that you will be very pleased with these additions to your capabilities. Again, no additional medical alteration will be performed, unless you have indicated your acceptance. Please watch the rest of the video."

The woman's voice on the video continued. "I know you must be curious about my appearance. Here is a picture of a few members of my species." The video continued, as the woman's voice trailed off.

With those words, he watched intently, as a photograph of an alien slowly came into focus. It was a biped; slender, with well defined muscles beneath smooth, pale, grayish skin and a bald oval head, somewhat similar to what he had seen in movies. He, at least Mike thought of the creature as a he, was wearing a light blue set of overalls, with odd patches on the chest.

The facial features were human like, but no one would ever mistake him for a human being. Unlike the movie version of aliens, this fellow had fairly normal deep set eyes, with long lashes. The eyes seemed to be similar in size to a human's, yet not humanoid. Due to the tilt of his eye sockets, he had an angry look about him. His high forehead protruded slightly, somewhat Neanderthal like, and there was a long thin nose, with large nostrils. The mouth was almost pretty, with thin lips and a slight indication of a smile. His hollow cheeks emphasized the prominent cheek bones, which extended to the side of his face and his jutting jaw gave the impression of stubborn determination.

### Jonelle

On looks alone, Mike's felt that the creature could be judged as looking good or evil. He would need to see it in motion and watch its facial movement to form an opinion either way. Even then, he knew he shouldn't base his opinion of the being based on that alone. He had had men in his unit who looked evil as hell, yet they were gentle and kind, when not engaged in combat.

From what he was shown, he had no idea of scale. The being could be shorter than him or taller. His thoughts had been anticipated. "Our race is generally taller than yours. I don't have a picture of me to show you, but once we meet face to face, you will see that I am a full head taller than you."

Mike was six foot three, so this guy was over seven feet tall.

More video showed these alien people walking and doing manual labor. Their movements were nearly identical to humans, although they seemed to have amazing strength. The creature doing the work did not look happy. None of them were smiling. If anything, they grimaced and seemed displeased at what they were doing. Perhaps they were incapable of smiling, despite the still photo he had first seen. He wondered what that said about them.

The old soldier in him tried to analyze their movements, looking for weaknesses that he could take advantage of if it came to direct combat against one of them. They were clearly stronger. In his youth, he had gone up against stronger men before and won. He wished he could see them perform in a competitive environment. That might provide him with some idea as to their capabilities.

"Sergeant, the people of your planet call themselves humans. As I said earlier, you won't be able to pronounce what we call ourselves. However, for now, the closest in your voice capability would be Thorian.

"I've had a little time to study your race and we seem to have a few things in common. We went through many thousands of your years, killing each other, as various potentates strived for power, until we reached a point where most of our needs were being provided by the machines we built to make life easier. Finally, we settled into a pleasant, almost lazy, mindset. That lasted for eight hundred years.

"Then the enemy came. Initially, a friendly agreement was made for peace and to exchange knowledge. They were to help our military build, using their designs for ships and weapons. We were experts in codes, or as humans would say, we were computer programmers extraordinaire.

We were reluctant to disclose all our methods and that angered our new friends. Shortly thereafter, they struck with ruthless abandoned, destroying our factories and all our leadership. It was done in less than one of your weeks. As a fundamentally peaceful race, and having had only limited contact with other alien beings, we were totally unprepared.

"Our military was really nothing more than a modest police force. Our crime rate was very low, and we had no need for a large armed presence on our planet or in our solar system.

"We are an intelligent people and we realized that these monsters meant to conquer us completely. We were willing to fight for our freedom and were determined to vanquish our new foe. So, we quickly attempted to establish a resistance. That merely provoked the enemy to perform the most horrible atrocities and led him to wage a merciless war of genocide against us."

The woman's voice began to expose its anger and frustration, as though she spoke through gritted teeth. They murdered billions of souls and destroyed the entire planet, making it uninhabitable. There are only a few million of us left now and we are all slaves, along side other races that have been overwhelmed by these cruel, heartless creatures."

While the woman spoke, the video had frozen on a photo of a mutilated Thorian who was bleeding from the stubs of his severed arms. When she spoke again, there was an absence of vitriol and he suspected that when the video was being made, she had paused the recording to regain her composure before continuing.

"I'm going to show you a picture of the enemy. You can call them Saurans, or scaleheads or anything else you wish. They evolved from a reptilian species, which were carnivorous. Like many species in the universe, they are now omnivores. They don't generally eat their prey, but they will if they are low on resources.

"My masters told me they can eat the flesh of my people and some of them even prefer it. From other comments I overheard, I believe they maintain thousands of my people as an exotic food source, for those who enjoy it. Apparently, the taste of human flesh is repugnant to most of them. So, while they probably won't eat you, I assure you they will certainly kill you without compunction."

She paused and a new photo appeared on the screen. His initial reaction was one of instinctual fear. This alien met all the preconceived notions that humans had ascribed to the most violent dinosaurs that ever roamed the Earth.

It was a tall, heavily muscled creature and it stood near a Thorian, which allowed Mike to make a judgment as to their size. It was a full head taller, which would make it around eight feet. Its girth was formidable, probably two, or perhaps three times as heavy as a man. Clearly reptilian, it had brown scales with a few white ones scattered in between, similar to the belly of an alligator. The face was wide, with a strong jaw and jutting chin, somewhat akin to an iguana. The protuberant eyes were wider than a human's and closer to the side of its head and probably functioned independent of one another. He realized it would be damned hard to sneak up on the thing, because its vision would probably cover at least 180 degrees, without turning its head.

Its arms were fairly short for such a large creature; yet thick and muscular. Each hand had three fingers and an opposable thumb, except the thumb looked shorter than a human's, when compared to the scale of his own hand. The nails of the fingers were short, thick and pointed, yet not quite claws. The back of the beast seemed slightly humped or perhaps it was just the natural curve of its spine. He couldn't tell if the creature had a tail or not.

It wore a sleeveless shirt and long trousers, revealing thick scaly skin and heavily muscled arms and legs like a body builder. The boots suggested wide feet, which made sense considering the size and weight of the beast.

A belt looped over its shoulder and contained some sort of weapon, or so he imagined. Mike suspected the tiny object attached to the belt around its waist was some sort of communication device.

The creature certainly looked odd and reptilian, with perhaps a hint of prehistoric beast to him. He could see the intelligent evil in its eyes, which reminded him of the cold hard glare of a reptile. The Thorian standing next to it seemed to cower in the presence of his master.

He thought it would be a mistake to prejudge the creature based on looks alone. After all, it was the Thorian who had kidnapped him, not the evil looking animal on the video. He reminded himself that he had no way of knowing whether either of these creatures could be considered friend or foe. It would be best to remain silent about his true feelings and keep an open mind.

The woman went on, "The vessel you are in was made by a race that was conquered many generations ago. The Mother Ship is also of their manufacture, although it was built at the command of the Saurans. There is much history for you to learn and it will be easily absorbed, once you have the necessary adjustments made to your body."

He disliked the way the woman talked of physical changes to his body. Even though he had apparently been miraculously healed in eye and legs, he wasn't about to fall prey to this Thorian, by accepting everything he was told. The old adage 'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts' came to mind.

In his Army days, he had been untrusting of a few of his own officers. Mike had learned to observe and weigh a person by their actions, not just words alone. And he certainly wasn't about to buy what this alien was selling, without a great deal more information. At the very least, he would need a lot more provable info.

Also, he knew that none of this had been done for his benefit. This Thorian had an ulterior motive and until he could figure it out, he would play it very carefully. Although he held, what would seem to be an empty hand, he knew there was something this guy wanted from him, which meant Mike represented something of value. He was sure he wouldn't like the price the creature would demand for the improvements to his body.

The portal that had delivered his food closed, and then reopened. Folded on a shelf was a light blue set of overalls, just like the Thorian had worn in the video.

The screen went blank, retuning to a white wall. The mechanical voice said, "Sergeant, for the moment, I've provided you with a uniform. Sewn into the shoulders are tiny speakers, which connect to the language converter. It will be awkward, but when we meet face to face, we can communicate more easily. Please put the uniform on."

He decided to cast a small challenge to the alien. "How do I know there isn't some chemical in the uniform that will alter my thinking."

"Sergeant, I understand your concern. Certainly, you must realize that if I wished to do that, you would already be under my control. I could have administered it to you at any time. There is a great deal more to cover, before we proceed, so please put on the uniform.

The voice explained, "I have to do a survey of the solar system, before I devote any more time to you. It's vital that we function without being detected. I expect the Saurans to send a scout ship eventually. But that probably won't happen for a year or two. Still, if we want to live, it's wise to be absolutely certain."

Mike asked, "And what if they are here? What would you do then?"

"A reasonable question. Depending on where they are, I would either remain hidden and silent, or go as quickly as possible to the Mother Ship. If we can beat them to it, we might be able to escape."

Mike thought for a moment, before pressing the creature. "How do you think they would react if they thought you had left the area?"

"It is impossible to be sure. They'd probably leave to bring back more potent forces. In a year or so, I suspect they would return with a substantial number of warships. They would either conquer and subjugate your race or destroy your entire planet."

Mike blurted out, "Why would they do that? We're obviously generations of development behind them. We're no threat to them."

"The mother ship was sent here alone to do research on humans. When they realize that their research ship has disappeared, they will assume that humans either destroyed it, or captured it. Capture would be much worse to their way of thinking, because it could provide substantial scientific knowledge to your people. I can't be sure, but I suspect these reptilians have not had a ship captured for many hundreds of years. Therefore, in their minds, humans would pose a serious threat."

After a long silence, the Thorian said, "They are creatures without conscious and they are ruthless, yet cautious. They won't risk leaving your people alone for hundreds of years, only to be confronted by humans a thousand years from now. It's easier for them to kill off all of humanity now, rather than fight you later, when you may have developed adequate weapons to threaten them."

He was stunned. Was any of this true? If it was, then the galaxy was a very dangerous place indeed. In kidnapping Mike and attempting to recruit his help, this crazy Thorian had possibly exposed the Earth to suspicion and jeopardized the entire human race.

Another question hit him. "Hey, if you're a slave, how did you get hold of that Mother Ship?"

"All will be explained to you shortly. The sooner I finish my survey; the sooner we can meet."

"How long is that going to take?"

There was no answer. When he repeated his question louder, he still received no response.

Mike lifted the blue uniform and held it against his torso. As he did, a pair of blue boxer shorts fell on the floor. How very damned considerate, he thought angrily.

The uniform was similar to a flight suit and did look to be the right size for him. Just as he was about to put it on, he noticed the two small devices on each shoulder. Apparently those were the speakers. He wondered if this uniform had belonged to another human at one time. And if it had, what happened to him.

Then an entire range of questions began to flood his mind. What did the alien expect Mike to do for him? What propelled this spacecraft? How fast could it fly? Was it stealthed? Did it possess weapons to defend it? Was it shielded against radiation? If not, he was in deep shit. So many questions and the information that had been given to him, thus far, only served to generate many more.

Chapter 3

When Mike's son Wayne was born, their life had taken on a whole new dimension, which he and Sherry gladly embraced. He was a sweet kid and smart as a whip. He was so very proud of his dad and loved seeing the various ceremonies of military life. He became so excited to see soldiers marching with rifles, bands playing, the sound of artillery and taps on the bugle, at bed time.

Wayne was nine years old, when Mike was wounded. The army offered to fly Sherry to Germany to see her husband. He needed time to gain some strength, mentally and physically, before being flown to Washington D.C., where he would begin his extensive therapy at Walter Reed Army Medical Center.

His wife had her mother stay at their house with Wayne, while she was flown to Germany to be with Mike. Sherry told their son daddy was hurt and needed time to recover. Little Wayne's concern was written on his face, as he asked, "Is daddy hurt bad?"

They didn't believe in lying to the boy. She broke down in tears and told him, "Yes honey, daddy's hurt really bad. But he's going to live and when he finally comes home, he'll be with us forever. So, that's a good thing, isn't it?"

Wayne began crying, as soon as he saw his mother's distress. After hugging and kissing her son, he calmed down, and then asked, "Mommy, is daddy a hero? Did he do good?"

"Oh yes, baby. Daddy is definitely a hero and he did very good."

Three weeks after Sherry arrived in Germany, the doctor declared Mike well enough to be flown back to the States. Sherry went on to Fort Campbell, Kentucky to be with Wayne. They had talked extensively about the timing for telling their son about the seriousness of Mike's injuries. She felt it would be best if she explained it to their son, before he made the trip to Washington to see his dad, and Mike agreed.

Wayne didn't take it well at first. In the past, whenever Mike was home, they had a very active life together, and male horseplay was always a part of it. They tossed baseballs and footballs back and forth, and Mike would chase his son around, as they laughed and enjoyed each other's company.

The boy realized those moments were lost. Sherry assured him that there were plenty of other things they could do together. But she could see the doubt in the lad's expression.

By the time Sherry and Wayne came to visit him at the hospital, Mike had begun some modest therapy and his facial scaring had begun to heal nicely. There was still a lot of redness on the left side of his face, and Mike had the doctor explain to his son that it would clear up, with time.

But there was no hiding the obvious truth about his legs. It would be some time before his stumps would be healed enough to try out temporary prosthetics. Upon learning it would be a while, before his father could walk on his own, Wayne insisted on seeing the raw stumps for himself.

He bravely told his father, "I want to see your legs dad. I won't cry, I promise."

So, reluctantly, Mike pulled away the sheet, revealing the remains of his once powerful legs. The ends were bandaged and when they came into view, Wayne was confronted with the reality of his father's missing limbs.

In a quivering voice, Wayne said, "Gee whiz, dad, their different lengths. It looks weird." Then his son, the apple of his eye, began to cry.

The poor kid apologized, as tears ran down his face. "I'm sorry, dad. I know I promised not to cry, but I can't help it. I want you to be normal again."

Mike felt so guilty, as though all of this was his fault.

By then, all three of them were in tears, as Sherry said, "Sweetie, daddy is normal. He's still the same man who loves you and he's going be able to play with you again. He'll just do it differently."

Up to that point, Mike thought he had a handle on his emotions. He and Sherry prayed a lot, which provided some solace. As he went through recovery, he had cried alone and with Sherry on several occasions. But nothing was as emotionally painful as seeing his son fall apart. He felt as though he had let the boy down. On one level, he knew that wasn't the case. On another level, he couldn't avoid feeling guilty about it.

After four surgeries and many months of physical therapy, Mike was eased out of the Army. He had enough retirement points to collect a decent amount when he got older. But, until then, he and his wife would get by on his disability pay and her salary.

Sherry had been devastated by the severity of his wounds. For the first few weeks, whenever she came to see him as he progressed from one surgery to the next, she openly wept. She had always been his rock and it seemed so strange to him that, now, he had to be the one to hold her together. It was so unlike her, yet so like him to be aware of his responsibility to the family and to be the rock for her and Wayne. He knew if he showed confidence and strength, they would follow his lead.

Finally, she told him she felt so sorry for him. That he was always such a powerful manly man and she knew how that image was important to him. And now he was in this horrible condition and it wasn't going to get any better. He held her in his arms and her weight was painful for him to bear, but he didn't complain. As she wept, she he told him how much she loved him. She sobbed for a quite a while, but that was the last time. Once she finally had it out of her system, she reverted to the rock he had known for most of their married life.

Where his physical therapy was concerned, she was as bad as any drill instructor he had ever seen. There was no stopping her and she certainly wasn't about to let him give up, not that he would. She pushed him hard, never allowing him to get away with limited exercise.

Once they got back home, in Kentucky, she gave him a set of chores to do around the house and if he didn't do them correctly, she chastised him harshly.

Two years after the disaster in Iraq, she announced, "It's time you went back to school and got your degree. You'd been pecking away at it for years and now you have the time to finish it up. So, you're going to get off your ass and learn some new skills, Sergeant First Class Hurst.

Three years later, he had two degrees, one in computer science and one in history. His only reason for getting the history degree was his love of the subject. Mike was fascinated by ancient politics and how it affected the various militaries of the time. But it was the computer science degree that got him a decent job at a company that gave vets hiring preference.

While he was never going to be a wiz kid at computer code, he did have other talents that the Vice-President of development had recognized, specifically his leadership ability. Eight months into the job he received a promotion to supervisor and a nice raise.

There was some resentment toward him, because other, younger men and women had been there longer. It didn't bother him at all. As a former drill instructor, he knew what it was like to be hated. These people didn't really hate him. They were merely jealous of him and wanted his chair for themselves.

He set about reorganizing the workload. He noticed that his predecessor had people doing what they did best. He believed in that; but it was a short term solution to getting the job done. In the long run, when people left for other jobs or were promoted out of the department, it left a gap in production. So, he had people periodically doing procedures that weren't their strong suit. There was a lot of gripping about those moves and one guy went over his head to the VP.

Mike had expected that and had warned his boss that when it happened, he shouldn't be surprised. Eventually, the entire department would be stronger and more flexible for the cross training and experience these people were receiving.

It took time, but gradually his subordinates began to appreciate his methods. When a few of them received promotions, it was proof of his successful approach and each time they thanked him for the push.

When he was promoted again, it came as big surprise. He hadn't sought advancement and when he told his boss that, the man told him, "Mike, you're one of the best men I've ever worked with, especially when guiding people to success. We need a man like you at a higher level to help some of the younger, upcoming executives to see how it should be done. Your natural leadership skills are invaluable."

Sherry was so proud of him and he felt so happy for her. That promotion was a vindication of her hard work, as well, as his efforts recovered physically and emotionally from his wounds. The love they shared always went both ways. So, when one of them was happy, it made the other one happy.

That was the year Wayne entered the US Naval Academy. He wanted to be a marine pilot. Mike teased him about not going to West Point and pursuing a career in the Army. But he wasn't really upset about it. In his eyes, Wayne could do no wrong.

He and Sherry were so proud of him. He was such a good and loving son. During his four years at Annapolis, the boy's hard study paid off for him. He graduated sixth in his class and went straight into flight training, down in Pensacola, Fla. Like Mike, his son was a natural career military man.

Eventually, Wayne found a beautiful girl who had stolen his heart, as well as Sherry's and Mike's. His late wife often said, "That girl is perfect for Wayne. She accepts being a Marine's wife and keeps the home fires burning when he's on deployment."

A few years later, his loving wife, Sherry, was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She'd put up one hell of a fight and he was with her every inch of the way. But the damned disease was too far along, when it was discovered. Despite all the improvements of modern medicine, she lost her fight.

Wayne came home on leave and they comforted each other as best they could. That was the last time he and Wayne had gone fishing together. The fished, they prayed, they drank and they cried. Life could be so good, and yet so cruel, at times.

***

As Mike ruminated over his past life, he realized that if the Thorian had come along, while Sherry was sick, they might have been able to cure her of cancer. The thought made him angry, even though it wasn't the alien's fault. After all these years, he still missed his wife terribly and wanted her back. But it was not meant to be.

The time for reminiscing was past and he knew it. He had new legs, a new eye and an alien to deal with. Although it seemed surreal, he knew this was no dream or hallucination. It was time to face the bizarre truth of his situation.

Mike put his hands on his knees and squeezed. It hurt, just a little. Still, it was the first true sensation he had felt there, since he had lost them. He had legs again. Damn.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and he began to tear up. That he had fully grown back his legs was incomprehensible, yet true. He was elated and frightened. It occurred to him that the alien could always take away his legs and his left eye, returning him to his former condition. How very cruel that would be.

When he tried to stand, he found the ache in his legs became worse, as the extreme gravity put far more weight on them than they were used to. He would have fallen, if he hadn't obtained a good grasp on the metal table. He tried walking around the table, as he used his hands to support some of his weight. But he just didn't have the strength, not yet anyway.

He heard a clink of heavy metal and his head was drawn toward the sound. What had been the video screen wall slowly slid aside, revealing his first glimpse of the Thorian, in the flesh.

The alien took two steps into the room and spoke, at least Mike thought he did, because he saw the creatures mouth move and heard high and low pitched squawks. Half a second later, the speakers on Mike's shoulders announced, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant Hurst."

Mike looked up at the tall being and painfully stood as tall as he could, before responding. "With all due respect, I'll withhold my feelings about you, until I hear what it is you want from me."

The pressure on his legs was rapidly causing increased pain, so Mike sat down on the table.

The alien's eyes watched him closely, and then they closed for a moment. The gravity that had been so difficult to deal with changed to nearly nothing, causing butterflies in Mike's stomach.

"I've reduced the gravity for now, Sergeant. If you will follow me, I can offer you a more comfortable seating arrangement, while we talk."

It surprised Mike that the Thorian turned his back on Mike. Was that a deliberate sign of trust, or was the creature deliberately tempting him? Mike had no intention of turning his back on any being, human or otherwise. Not without a great deal of operational experience to develop trust.

He had no idea as to the size of the spacecraft in which they rode. Although the overhead was greater than one would find on a human ship, it seemed small because the passageway was relatively narrow. The room he was guided to was his next surprise. It had soft carpet and sky-blue walls. While the soft lighting and color scheme put him at ease, he remained suspicious of the alien. He wasn't about to be conned by this pleasant environment.

There were four tall chairs around a tall table. They looked like padded bar stools to him, but at least they had armrests. The alien said, "Please, Sergeant Hurst, sit down and get comfortable. I'll have water and food brought, if you wish."

Mike replied, "You've given me the impression you were alone. Are there more of you here?"

"No, Sergeant Hurst. This craft has a series of machines, which provide the necessary items and services to sustain biologic life forms. Thorians and Saurans are not the only creatures that this small transport can support."

As he spoke, a panel in the table opened and a metal jug along with two cups rose to the height of the tabletop. The Thorian poured water into both cups and handed one to Mike. He took it and sipped, finding the water cool and refreshing, just like his first taste had been.

Mike said, "I see you also drink water. Is that normal for your people?"

"Yes. You'll find that many races have a need for water. Of course, there are some who put additives in it to make it acceptable for their taste and biologic needs. I've heard there is one race that becomes ill if they drink pure H2O."

Mike took a long drink, empting his cup. He really was thirsty.

The alien told him, "The regrowth process, demands a great deal of water. I'm sure you are aware that the human body consists primarily of water. So, please help yourself to as much water as you wish. It will help you to gain strength, as the regrowth process is completed."

"I am thirsty." He poured himself another cup full and asked the Thorian, "Do you have a name. What should I call you?"

The creature smiled, giving Mike his first glimpse of the alien's short white teeth. "Our people live much longer than humans. We honor our blood ancestors by carrying a full name that includes all our parent's names, going back four generations. But, like humans, we each have an individual name, or as you would call it, a first name. My first name is Jonelle."

Mike quickly followed, "And may I call you Jonelle?"

Again, the alien smiled. "In the brief time I've had to research humans and their customs, I noted that most of you have a first name, as my people do. Also, I noted that many of you use a shortened version their first name. On that basis, I would be willing to accept the name of Jo, as appropriate. And would you be offended, if I called you Mike? It would make our conversation much simpler."

Now it was Mike's turn to smile, as he answered, "Yes, Jo, that would be fine. Now, may I ask what you want of me?"

Jo held his hands up high, smiled and said, "I want your help in defeating the Saurans, of course. I can't do it alone."

Mike had been taking a sip of water and it went shooting out of his nose and he began coughing at the alien's ridiculous statement.

After clearing his throat, Mike pointed out, "My people are untold thousands of years behind your people, or the Saurans. How in hell am I going to be any help?"

"Let me explain."

"Please do," Mike shot back.

"Very well. On the Mother Ship, there are machines that can do amazing things with biological beings, such as you and me. With genetic modification, your brain can be expanded to handle several times the processing power it currently has. It can also make you a good bit stronger, although I haven't seen the research on that regarding humans just yet. I haven't had the time.

"That machine can install a biologic communication device, which can exchange data like an electronic device. It will be placed at the base of your skull and other areas of your body will also have small alterations made to make you a better warrior. We would be able to talk, without these confounded speakers and, if we wished, without talking out loud."

Mike shook his head. "Do you mean that our brains would communicate directly? Could we read each other's thoughts?"

"Yes and no. Our minds would be able to communicate at phenomenal speeds. There will be circumstances that require rapid decisions to be made and instant communication would be essential. Especially, I suspect, in a combat environment. But one cannot gain access to another's private thoughts. When this system was designed, intrusion into a person's private thoughts was the inventor's greatest fear. So, she placed a mind block that protects the users. It is the only way any of the other races would accept it."

"So, you've had this done to you?"

Again, with the patient smile. "Mike, this system has been in existence for more than a thousand of your years. It is a biological device, which has been genetically implanted. That means our genetic make up has been permanently changed. We pass it on to our children. They are born with it already in place."

The ramifications of Jo's comment were extraordinary. "Jo, if what you're saying is true, then humans are many thousands of years behind the Saurans or the Thorians. Furthermore, I believe most humans would find the idea of an implant that affects the brain to be repugnant. The idea suggests that you would have a way to control us."

The alien extended his hand, with the fingers pointed straight out, and flipped his hand over and back rapidly. "I can understand how you would think so. I wish I knew what to say to help you grasp the benefit of this method of communication. There is so much more to these changes than I have told you. But for now, the most important reason is to be able to comm with me and your warriors, without resorting to this slow archaic speech; although I must admit there is a joy to the leisurely pace of it."

Mike sighed in frustration and pushed the conversation in a different direction. "So, how in the hell am I going to make a difference."

Jo said, "Allow me to explain my plan. However, I need to provide a little more background, before I reveal it to you."

Mike was a little angry. For many years, he had trouble tolerating people who danced around the answers he needed. Sometimes it made his blood boil. In this situation, he chose to exercise patience. He held out his hands, palm up, and said, "Please go on."

"The Mother Ship held twenty-one Saurans. They were tasked with retrieving a few thousand humans for research."

Mike blurted out, "A few thousand for research. What gives them the right?"

Patiently, Jo replied, "In your parlance, they have the muscle and you don't."

The blunt truth of it was terrifying. "What do they do to us?"

"I was only here to assist them as a slave. They did their own research, in a different section of the Mother Ship, to which I had little access. I suspect they were going to test for basic strength and speed, and then a series of intelligence inquiries would be made. As far as they're concerned, all other species are enemies and they wish to know as much about their enemy's potential as possible.

"The Senior Pilot had made one trip to your planet already and captured eighteen humans. At the Sauran's command, I was tasked with doing some limited research on each one; primarily regarding their genetic make up. They were very pleased to find that all humans are significantly weaker than Saurans.

"In my research, I quickly discovered all of the humans they had captured were convicts who had been taken from a criminal transportation vehicle. To their way of thinking, these humans would show the most vicious side of your people and give the Saurans a good example of human capability in combat."

Mike interrupted, saying, "That's actually good thinking on their part."

"Yes, I thought so, too."

Jo continued, "They had many humans to gather. So, after my preliminary genetic research, they stored the eighteen they had, until the captives could be fully tested at a later time. They left one Sauran on board and I was placed in a locked compartment, which was normal procedure when they didn't need me. The others left for Earth, to gather more humans.

"On the way there, their craft had a sensor shield malfunction and it failed to deflect a small meteor. It struck the engine and sent them off course; crashing into an icy moon of the large planet you call Jupiter. As they fell to their doom, they called the Mother Ship and informed the remaining Sauran of the tragedy. In their panic, they opened the entire communication system, allowing me to hear what was being said.

"The remaining Sauran began preparing to leave the solar system. But, with no other Sauran to help him, he had to rely on the ship's robots. They don't have much computing power and most robots are designed for one specific purpose only. Therefore, they can't function as smoothly as a sentient being. So, the Sauran needed my assistance to prepare the ship to travel. He was unaware that I knew what had happened. He had the ship's computer unlock my room, and then called me to the operation center.

"I had no intention of attempting to take over the ship. But, as I walked the length of the ship, a plan began to form. Saurans are much more powerful than Thorians, so I certainly had no chance of besting him in direct combat. I would need to deceive him, and I would need a weapon.

"There are some very powerful tools on the Mother Ship. They must be fully accounted for and handled carefully when in use. The Saurans used me for a variety of maintenance procedures; thus, I was given access to a few of these dangerous tools. I went by the maintenance shop and selected two items that might give me the advantage I sought.

"One was an electric torch, which was used to fuse together new power cables, which are extremely thick and heavy. Because the cables usually wore out in very narrow access conduits, the Saurans always sent me in to fix them. They hated to be confined in tight places. It is a phobia with them.

"The other item I selected, was less powerful, but just as dangerous. It was a line tester. It's used to generate a high frequency signal through the hard wired communication lines, to verify their efficiency. Most Saurans wouldn't consider it to be dangerous, in its normal setting. But, in my position as a maintenance slave, they had long ago given me the codes to augment the power for this tool. So, I set it to maximum."

Jo paused and took a drink of water, as Mike gave the Thorian's story some thought. If what he heard thus far was true, this former slave had a serious set of gonads. Mike always liked troops with big balls. They won battles. Of course, that didn't mean that Jo should be trusted. The Earth had a long history of courageous men who were ruthlessly evil. For instance, Adolph Hitler had won the Iron Cross in World War One, yet he was one of the most brutal leaders in human history.

The alien continued. "When I entered the operation center, the Sauran slapped me, which was not uncommon. A Sauran frequently uses this method to constantly remind a slave of his position in life. I had anticipated the slap. So, when he struck me, I deliberately dropped the electric torch.

He challenged me and asked why I had it with me. I told him I assumed that there was a problem here and I remembered having weakened readings the last time I checked the cables in the operation center. So, I brought the torch, in case it was needed.

"He slapped me again and accused me of trying to sabotage the ship. I denied it, of course. I asked him if I should take the tool away. He said no and not to touch it. He bent over to pick it up and I saw my chance.

"I quickly applied the line tester to the back of his head and pressed the power on switch. His brain was boiled, which killed him instantly, and it made a terrible mess, which I still must clean up. It smelled horrible, yet I could not help releasing my joy. I cried out and said a prayer to God for his guidance. I had never heard of a Thorian besting a Sauran. I was so elated."

Jo was looking at the ceiling and smiling, as he recalled his triumph. Mike felt the honesty of the alien's story but felt it prudent to withhold comment. He needed to learn more.

He asked, "Did you release the humans?"

His question pulled Jo back to the present situation. "Oh...no, I did not. They are criminals and could never be trusted. So, I left them in non-existence."

"Jo, what do you mean by non-existence?"

"In a way, they are asleep. When you were being healed, you still existed. The criminals are in a state of...of suspension, as though their bodies were trapped in a void. Their thoughts and bodily functions have been temporarily placed on standby. Do you grasp what I am saying?"

"Yes, I think I do. We have a term that might describe it. We call it stasis. It's a form of stagnation, or complete inactivity, without death."

Jo displayed a grin, with his thin lips spread wide and his short peg-like teeth exposed. "Yes, stasis, that describes it exactly."

"So why did you kidnap me?"

"Well, I gave quick thought to what I would do next. I needed help and I couldn't send out a distress signal. That would only summon another Sauran ship. I couldn't trust a criminal. So, I would need to find an honorable and trustworthy warrior on the planet Earth."

Mike was astounded. "So, of all the people you could have chosen, out of eight billion, you picked out an old, dumb, slob who had no legs and one eye. Jo, you're not as smart as I thought."

Mike had blurted out the insulting comment, without thinking. He was glad to see Jo smile at him, before responding.

"Don't underestimate me, Mike. After all, I bested a Sauran, single handed," he said proudly.

"Staying on the ship would have been a waste of time. So, within hours of killing the Sauran, I loaded a small transport vehicle with supplies and left for the Earth.

"On the way there, I spent most of my days probing earths data systems, focusing on various military employment departments. It was confusing at first...so many different countries. But I found that your country, America, generally had a reputation for integrity and their military had a history of remarkable success.

"I knew I had the benefit of a medical unit, which could repair humans. Previous Sauran visits to Earth, resulting in kidnappings and medical experiments had proven that. I began looking at records of wounded soldiers. They were warriors and should be happy to be repaired.

"Your Pentagon has a very weak data protection system, by the way. It was quite easy for me to access and organize the files I wished to review.

"I expected to find someone in a hospital, but then thought better of it. How could I go into such a place, without drawing a hostile response? Also, if I took someone from there, it would cause turmoil and I didn't need that.

"I narrowed my search down to forty or fifty men. You were rather high on the list; due to all the wonderful reviews your superiors gave you. When I checked on your record at the civilian computer company, those reports were also excellent. But what made you perfect was that you owned a remote cabin and went there often. It was my good luck that you were there, when I inspected it.

"For a few days, I watched, as you left for your walk to the water, where you caught fish. When I finally decided to acquire you, I waited during the daylight period, expecting you at any minute. You were gone a long time and I was amazed at the length of time you spent at the river. Finally, as the sun began to set and darkness was nearly complete, I saw you walking up to the cabin. I was quite relieved.

"I'm sorry about the paralysis gas. It was the fastest and easiest way to subdue you. I originally thought I should speak with you first. But that was ridiculous. Once you saw me, you would either runaway, or fight. Neither of those options would solve my dilemma. So, I brought you into the small transport and put you in the med unit to begin your repair."

Jo stopped and stared at Mike, as though he was waiting for him to say something.

Mike asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"I really can't do anything more without your help. I want you to help me find more good humans, such as yourself. If you won't help me, I'll return you to your cabin. Of course, you'll have the benefit of two new legs and a new eye. I wouldn't take those from you."

Mike looked away, as he considered that possibility. Then he asked, "If I choose to go home, would I remember what has happened to me?"

"What? Oh, I see. You think I could somehow wipe your memory. There are ways to block this memory, and I would have to do just that. But, it's against Galactic Law to completely remove all knowledge from your brain. You would be as a newborn. That's very unethical, although I wouldn't be surprised to find that the Saurans do it sometimes.

"Mike, if you wish to return to Earth, I will take you there. But believe me when I tell you that your planet is in danger and you can do a great service for your people, by working with me."

"Jo, what happens to the Earth, if I don't help you?"

"The future is unwritten. I would continue to seek another warrior and try to convince him to join me. It is my only hope, the only hope for my people and the only hope for your people, really."

Jo sat there staring at him. It unnerved Mike. He realized that the Thorian rarely blinked. It was so unhuman. Yet, despite his wariness, Mike had begun to accept the alien as friendly. There was a sincerity about him that Mike liked, although he still wasn't quite ready to put his full trust in the guy.

"Jo, if I let you make those changes in my body, would I still be me?"

"I understand your concern. Yes, you would still be the same being you are now, just enhanced. You would retain all your memories, good and bad. It would take practice to get used to the new speed of your mind and the unusual method of mind-to-mind communication.

"I must tell you that the changes would result in a much larger neck. It would look bulky by comparison to most humans. Also, your muscles would be enhanced. They would be denser, and your body would be harder. You would probably possess at least three times the strength of a man your size.

"If you wish, I could have the system download the advanced combat warrior program for your muscles and brain. You would need the additional mental programming to get the best use of the upgraded power you will have been given."

This was interesting. He would have loved to be three times more powerful, when he was in combat. What an asset that would have been?

Jo had been watching him closely and a tiny grin made its appearance at the edge of his lips. He said, "It's tempting, isn't it? For a while, you would feel like a God, with that sort of strength. But other than using it in direct combat, it doesn't solve any problems. It won't make you smarter. It won't make you better looking unless you wanted that, and it won't make anyone love you."

Mike laughed. "You're right, of course. Still, it would have come in handy, when I was under fire."

Jo remained silent and continued to watch Mike, as he ran the possibilities through his mind.

He still had questions. "Do these upgrades have to be on my neck?"

Jo's eyes opened wide and he responded, "That's an interesting question. Actually, I don't believe so, but I'll have to check, once we're back on the Mother Ship. I think we may be able to put them in a combat leader shroud, within your torso."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"A combat leader shroud is a protective device that is resistant to many forms of assault. It would fit deeply inside your abdomen and behind several thin layers of protective material. I doubt that your people have discovered the substance yet. Also, that package could be adjusted to provided limited protection to the rest of your body."

"Jo, I'm not sure what that would do for me, or to me."

"Well, let me think for a moment, as I search for an appropriate term."

He closed his eyes and Mike realized that he was communicating with a computer.

Jo opened his eyes and said, "Bulletproof. Your protective shroud would be bulletproof, and your skin would probably provide you with substantial protection, although I couldn't say for certain that your entire body would be bullet proof."

Mike looked suspiciously at Jo and asked, "Why haven't you taken the upgrade?"

He smiled and said, "I fully intend to. But it takes a few days to recover and I was alone. Once you have been upgraded and have received the mental download regarding the Mother Ship, I'll be free to take some time off and have it done, as well. I fear we're both going to need it."

"Will it affect our appearance? I mean will my skin look different?"

"I don't believe so. The process is a combination of genetic alteration, supplemented with nanites. I believe you know what those are?"

"Yes, I think so. Is there more you can tell me about all of this?"

"Let's see. Nanite reserves will be positioned throughout your body, in the legs, the arms, the torso and the head. If you were ever injured, they would immediately go to the damaged area and begin aiding in the repair, along with natural genetic material, which will begin regenerating as soon as the injury is realized. However, that doesn't mean instant repair. But it will speed the process along and quite possibly save your life."

"That's a pretty attractive offer, Jo. What's the down side?"

Jo raised his head. "Oh, you mean what's bad about it. Well, I believe it's very painful for a few days and it won't work when you're in stasis. You have to remain conscious, although you can be treated with a mild painkiller."

Jo put his finger down on the table and emphatically told Mike, "And you have to promise to help me raise an army. Perhaps you can identify some of your old friends and we can recruit them."

"Look Jo, I'm old as the damn hills and won't be much good in a fight, even with the upgrades. All my buddies are as old, or older than I am. They won't be any good to you."

Jo straightened up, grinning from ear to ear, as he announced, "Oh, I am sorry. You don't realize what has already begun to happen to you. You're just beginning to recover from the regeneration process. In the next few days, as the gene therapy continues to work on you, your body will become a little younger.

"I forgot to mention that the full upgrade process would make you look and feel as you once did many years ago. You will have the body of a human approximately twenty-five years of age. You'll need the youthful vigor to survive the upgrade. So, you see, your old friends would be young like you. Truly old warriors would do us no good."

Mike couldn't contain the huge smile, as he mumbled, "Oh this just keeps getting better and better."

Chapter 4

The Thorian told him that the trip out to the Mother Ship would take eight more days, because he wanted to be certain they hadn't been detected. The time dragged by slowly, although with every waking moment Jo filled Mike's head with tidbits of random info; like how to use a null gravity toilet.

When Mike asked why he needed to know that, he was told, "There could be a time when you may be riding in a craft that doesn't have a gravity compensator. You'll be glad to have this knowledge then."

To Mike's considerable discomfort, Jo reset the gravity to twice that of Earth. It was nearly as bad for the Thorian, because his body was used to 1.1g of Earth. The alien informed him that was the normal gravity for Saurans and was used on all their ships. Of course, Jo wasn't recovering from having his legs regrown like Mike. So, while the alien was mildly inconvenienced, Mike was in pain much of the time. As his recovery improved, Mike's legs grew stronger and Jo insisted that he move around and do exercises. It was as though Sherry was pushing him all over again.

There was a lot to learn...for instance, food from the processor. The device could reproduce his oat bars, and they were all right. But the taste of them grew old very quickly. He had Jo direct the machine to offer him something else. Some of it was edible and some nearly made him puke. But he learned quickly what was likable and what was revolting. Jo assured him that the only way to know what he liked was to continue to try something new. Water was nice, but he really missed coffee.

Jo introduced him to the morning drink of Thorians. To Mike's taste buds, it was horrible. Nothing could replace coffee.

"Mike, once we have reached the Mother Ship, you will have a wider range of choices. Furthermore, when we go back to Earth, we can bring back samples for the food replicator to analyze and send to the food processor. It will duplicate their texture and taste. It really does do a good job of it."

Mike could only hope that was true.

At Mike's insistence, Jo gave him a tour of the small spacecraft. There wasn't much to be seen, as most of it was behind walls or in unpressurized areas. The med unit was a module that could be removed. It reminded Mike of Earth's intermodal cargo containers, only much smaller. But the concept was the same. One could quickly change the module to match the mission.

The control room, which Mike thought of as the bridge, was slightly smaller in size compared to the other compartments. There were four other rooms, all the same as the one in which he and Jo had their first discussion. Apparently, on the Mother Ship, there were a wide variety of other modules, which could be changed out for different purpose driven missions.

Jo showed him the list of potential warriors he had assembled. The complete list contained more than fifty thousand names. Mike had the time, so he looked over many of them and saw a few names he knew.

Finally, he asked Jo, "Why me? I mean, I was just a lowly sergeant. There are names on this list of some really smart, high-ranking officers. I would gladly serve under most any of them. You have to know you could have done better than me to start with."

Jo flipped his hand back and forth in a twisting motion, which Mike had learned was his way of indicating disagreement.

"Mike, I'm over three hundred years old and have been a slave to the Saurans for two hundred of those years. I've worked for a few powerful Saurans, so I speak from experience. None of the senior officers, on that list, would have been as ideal as I'm sure you will prove to be. It's not just about intelligence, or rank, or success, although that is important. It's about leadership, honor, and trust.

"Thorians marry for life, Mike. The Saurans murdered my wife and I was never the same person, after that. But, in some ways, I became a better person. I've never forgotten her; and I see that you also have not allowed the memory of your wife to fade away. I didn't just look up your record; I researched all that I could find out about you, your wife, your son and your friends.

"A General has been living a life of privilege. He has men running around at his command and he enjoys it. That doesn't make him a bad man or a bad leader. But a man like you appreciates every man in the chain of command.

"I read what you wrote about a few of your superiors. You showed genuine appreciation for their capabilities. Even when they made unpopular decision, you gave them your support because you knew they were doing what was necessary.

"A high ranking man will tend to be overbearing and out here that will get you killed. I'm going to put you in command. You chose the men you like, including senior officers. But ultimately, they will answer to you."

Mike disagreed. "Jo, that's crazy. I don't have the talent or the education that these guys do. It would be a crime not to give one of them command."

Jo stood tall and spoke to Mike as though he was a youngster. "Mike, they will exercise command, but you must over see their decisions. If you think they're making the wrong decisions, then your will must prevail.

"As for your education, that will be upgraded on the Mother Ship. No one will have more knowledge of space and politics in this arm of the galaxy than you."

He asked, "Why not you, Jo. Why don't you lead? You have far more knowledge about all of this than I'll ever have.

"Because humans will instinctively refuse to follow an alien being. It will be difficult enough to recruit on Earth. Why make it more so, by having the leader an alien creature so completely different in appearance from their own."

Mike looked down, and then said, "Well if I'm going to be in charge, that shit has got to change. Your knowledge is too valuable to ignore. They will eventually learn to follow your lead, as long as you're honest with them."

He went silent, as he realized he was beginning to buy into the alien's offer. He still had trust issues with Jo. He cautioned himself to avoid falling into the trap of thinking he could lead the people of Earth to war against a powerful alien race.

Then Mike glared at Jo and warned, "The first time anyone catches you in a lie they will turn on you."

Jo looked at him for a moment, and then said, "That was a warning to me, wasn't it Mike. You don't have faith in my honor and that's good, I suppose. I will try to do better at earning your trust."

He nodded and coldly admitted, "Yes, it was a warning. You'd do well to remember that."

Jo leaned toward him and Mike wondered about body language. If a human did that, it generally indicated that they were about to confide in someone. But, what did it mean for a Thorian? For all he knew, it was the alien's way of saying "Fuck You."

Jo said, "Mike, there is much for you to learn about life beyond your planet. I know there is much I need to learn about humans. Certainly, you can see there is great danger out here, for you and for your people. Together we must make the effort to learn from each other and perhaps we can save a great number of souls through that effort. Is it not a worthy endeavor?"

"Of course it is. But you've thrown a lot at me. You're asking me to sacrifice my new body, after a miraculous recovery. Just because the cause is noble, doesn't mean it's the smart move at the time. Maybe this isn't the right time and maybe I'm not the right guy to help."

Mike scrunched his face into a grimace, which was something he did when he was frustrated. "Look Jo, there are plenty of well qualified men on earth who are far better for this than I am. I'll help you find them."

Jo smiled sadly. "I want you to do that. I want you to find as many smart men as possible. I understand that you would feel awkward about being their superior. I can assure you that they will accept your guidance. After having done so much research on you and finally talking with you, I am convinced that you are the one to lead our fight."

Mike couldn't be that easily swayed. This alien may have captured Mike's body, but he hadn't captured his mind. Mike didn't want to force a confrontation with the guy, so he kept his distrust to himself, for the moment.

Addressing the topic at hand, he told the alien, "Jo you don't know these people like I do. They won't settle for an old enlisted man as their superior. The best of them spent their entire lives growing into the job of handling enormously complicated battle preparations and tactics. I'm good, maybe even great at small unit tactics. But I could never juggle all of the balls these men have been dealing with for years."

To Mike's surprise, Jo shot to his feet and announced, "They will follow you, because I will program them to do so. You should allow them to voice their opinions. But once you have made up your mind to do something, none of them will defy you."

Then Mike angrily shot to his feet and said, "Is that how you will rule us, by programming our minds to do whatever you wish. Well you can forget it, buster. Count me out."

Jo sat down and said, "I see that I have angered you. For that I am sorry. I suppose you fear that I would program your mind somehow, in order to have you obey me. Please allow me to explain." He pointed to the chair Mike had been sitting in and softly asked, "Would you please allow me to explain?"

With a sigh, Mike sat, but he was on the edge of the chair and his back was ramrod straight.

"Your fear of being programmed is legitimate and I can understand that better than you can imagine. For more than two hundred of your years, I have been a slave who was programmed to obey my masters, the Saurans. If the lowest Sauran gave me an order, I had to obey and I did so without question. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't stop myself from following their commands.

"When the Mother Ship approached your solar system, it was time for me to be rejuvenated with new mind programs for processing humans for research. The old equipment on the Mother ship worked well enough to place the instructions in my mind. But that programming would take two days and a Sauran needed to be present at the controls the entire time to oversee the implanting of those programs.

"Low echelon Saurans can be quite lazy and my immediate superior was one of the laziest scaleheads I've ever seen. He kept putting off his duty, as he griped about the length of time it would take. He would have to sit there watching instruments for hours, as the computer made the necessary alterations to my thought process.

"After he was warned by the Senior Pilot, a being you would call the Captain, he had to go forth with his duty. But he wasn't very diligent about it. He made the connections and set the proper data to adjust me, but he left open other programs.

"You see; Saurans are not trusting. During our journey, whenever they put me to use, I was programmed to make repairs and do preventative maintenance on a wide variety of equipment. But, if they left that information in my mind, and added the processing method for humans, I might be able to free my mind using old and new programs together. So, before I was to be given my new direction, I should have had the old programs removed. But they were not.

"My supervising Sauran never realized that he had provided me with a way to release my mind and use it freely. I continued to function as though I had been reprogrammed. After all, there were twenty-one Saurans on board, so there was no way for me to take advantage of my situation.

"My original plan was to program the humans to assist me and follow my orders. But when the first group came in and I saw that they were criminals and could never be trusted, I knew I would have to wait until the next load of humans came on board.

"Then my grand opportunity occurred, thanks to the God of all creatures. All but one of them had left to retrieve more humans, but a meteor struck their craft and they died on that frozen moon. I believe your astronomers call it Ganymede."

Jo brought his right hand up and made a circle in the air, as he said, "The rest of the story you know."

With apparent shame, the alien told him, "Mike, I have never been in a position to lead. To the best of my knowledge, no captive Thorian alive has ever been in such a position. I admit I am afraid, not of death, but of failure. It is my dearest hope that you will work with me to begin securing this part of the Galactic arm for your people and perhaps what remains of mine as well."

Mike mumbled, "Jesus Christ. What a tale."

Jo added, "Through God we can prevail. I know that Jesus Christ is one of your Gods. It is good that you have such beliefs. Surely the God of all creatures will give us strength, if we are courageous enough to help each other and fight together."

For some strange reason, Mike thought of Sherry and what she might have said about all of this. He badly wished for her advice and thoughts of his wife brought something else to mind.

Mike spoke, as he thought our loud. "We're going to need some women. I mean human women, of course."

Jo's eyes opened wide. "Ah, you wish to procreate."

"Well, that could happen, I suppose; but that's not why I suggest women be on board. They think differently than men and bring a different dynamic to the planning process. Also, we're going to need several warriors, as you call them, and they'll be better fighters if they have some women around to protect."

What he told Jo about protecting women was true. But, to be honest, the thought of prostitutes would be attractive to some of the men, although Mike wasn't in favor of women being abused as sex slaves that way. Also, he wasn't sure how Jo would react to that idea, just yet, because he had been a slave for so long himself.

Regardless of Jo's concerns, Mike knew many of the lower ranks would want to have the temporary comfort of women; that's for sure. There wasn't a military base anywhere on the planet that didn't have prostitutes working nearby and doing a booming business.

Jo reached out a long arm and placed his hand lightly on Mike's shoulder. "So, do you agree to help and lead us?"

"Jo, I'm not familiar with your customs and I don't wish to create a misunderstanding here. Let me put it this way. I shall seriously consider your request and I must admit I'm leaning in that direction. But, I'm not ready to commit just yet.

"Let's talk more and maybe get some food. The more I hear, the more I learn and the more I learn the better decision I'll make."

The tall alien grinned and said; "Now you demonstrate your wisdom and further convince me that you are the one to guide us."

Chapter 5

For the next eight days, they made their way out to the Kuiper belt. Mike wanted to see space, or more specifically, he wanted to see the solar system. Jo explained that the small transport had no windows. However, it had remarkable viewing screens, which could be set to display anything they wished to see, in 3D. Jo had the shuttle screens display the view from their current location, but they were so far away from the planets there was no way he could appreciate them. So, Jo had the computer zoom in on Jupiter, and then Saturn, with its marvelous rings.

Mike was amazed at the ability of the cameras to show, in great detail, objects that were millions of miles away. They were traveling slightly above the elliptic of the solar system, so they wouldn't be passing especially close to any of the planets, which was disappointing. But, when Mike saw the enhancements of the outer planets and some of their moons, he sat in awe of the alien technology.

It could zoom in on the rings of Saturn and they were spectacular. Mike spent hours looking at Uranus, Neptune and Pluto. He was seeing details, which no one on Earth had ever seen. Scientists at NASA would go crazy looking at these planetary bodies. The various light frequencies could be adjusted, revealing details about their consistency, mass, age and where there was one, atmosphere.

"Wow, these shots are incredible. Could I send a few pictures back to Earth?"

"Think about that, Mike. Could you...yes. But, should you?"

He hung his head and mumbled, "Of course not. I'd be giving away our presence."

Then Mike's head shot up, as he suggested, "Why not drop this charade and tell the people of Earth everything? It would make all this much easier. With the knowledge we could provide them, they could generate a space Navy in no time."

Like a patient father, Jo said, "Do you really think the people of your planet would react positively? Would the governments align themselves for the benefit of all humans? Would the industries that would be put out of business be helpful? Isn't it possible that some governments would attempt to use the knowledge to produce weapons, which would be used to subdue rival governments? And, if I'm correct in my analysis, war could erupt in several locations, over religious beliefs being challenged by the new reality."

Mike's brief elation was dashed against the truth of Jo's observations. He thought, "I've just been schooled, big time."

He sheepishly smiled at Jo and told him, "You're right. Humans aren't ready to take their place out here. We have a lot of growing up to do."

Jo counseled, "Your people have come a long way. My people only had one ethnic body to contend with. Yet, for thousands of years, we killed each other for the same relatively trivial reasons that yours do."

Mike asked, "So, even if I can help you find a few good men, how is that going to prevent the destruction of the human race?"

"Actually, I was hoping we could find a few thousand good warriors and train them to our needs. That will be a start."

"What will this start consist of? I mean, are we going to declare war on the Saurans."

"Of course not. We don't want to forewarn them. Think about this, Mike. From what you have learned, thus far, you must realize that travel between the stars takes time. Even though an individual craft can be propelled very fast, the enormous distances present a natural barrier to any space fairing people. Under normal conditions, the Saurans would have no concern for the research group that had been sent to rob your world of humans.

"They probably won't begin to investigate for at least two to three years. That will give us enough time to select the right humans, and then leave here to seek out allies."

Mike was caught off guard by the thought of leaving Earth.

"I'm not going to leave my people without any way to protect themselves."

Jo spread his hands out, exactly like an umpire at a baseball game, signaling safe.

"Sergeant, we've already agreed that the Earth cannot defend itself just yet. So, we shall seek out allies. The Saurans do have enemies. I am considering the Zhanukiabanolis. They are a proud race and have developed good technology. They have been able to hold the line against the Saurans, but they aren't so powerful that they can overwhelm the scaleheads. I suspect they would welcome a race of warriors to aid them in preventing their own demise at the hands of the Saurans."

"The WHO?"

"Zhanukiabanolis. Humans seem to abbreviate so many words. You would probably shorten their name to Januki."

"Would they be offended, if I didn't use their full name?"

"Probably not. They have suffered great loss of life, in their confrontation with the Saurans. If we can show them that your race will provide them with many warriors, they might be willing to help you establish a space military industrial base. That could save your people more than a thousand years of research. But the Januki are fierce negotiators. They will have demands."

"What could humans offer them?"

"The only thing you can offer right now, warriors, as many as you can find. The Zhanukiabanolis have been able to avoid being overrun by the Saurans due to their industrial strength. Their small numbers have forced them to use automation to make up for their lack of population, and that certainly includes warriors on the ground and in space."

Mike groaned and said, "You're saying we should sell our military services to other races. You want us to become mercenaries?"

"It isn't what I want, Mike. It's what I feel your people must do, until they have the ability to defend themselves."

Jo patted Mike's hand, as though he was a little boy, telling him, "When I went searching for a warrior, I deliberately sought out an American. They have an excellent record as warriors. Perhaps of even greater importance is their record of common sense in victory. They ensure they have secured their own safety, and then allow the conquered to rebuild and prosper as a near equal. That is a very rare quality among the races you will find in the Galaxy.

"But Jo, it's going to take years for us to train enough men and we'll have to learn entire new technologies. As for space flight, while the concept isn't new to us, the application and details of it will take generations to master."

Jo smiled. "You will understand the possibilities for your people much better, once you have been upgraded and realize the extraordinary potential of your new mental power. In a few weeks' time, knowledge of space and intergalactic travel will be dealt with. You will learn a great deal about moving around out here and retain the knowledge you already had.

"That's why it's a good idea to recruit combat veterans. They, too, will have all their experiences and knowledge to aid them in adjusting to combat in the new reality. You know better than I that combat requires the ability to quickly make correct decisions. Your veterans will carry with them the experiences of Earth combat and apply those lessons to combat under the new conditions. That type of knowledge cannot be transferred via upgrade."

Mike was troubled about the whole picture here. He still had no idea if he should trust Jo; and the thought of allowing the alien to alter his mind was nothing less than terrifying. He could be turned into a human robot, doing the creatures bidding. For all Mike knew, he might be the Thorian's primary means to infiltrate Earth's military. The people of Earth could become slaves, because of Mike's bad decision.

"Jo, how do I know that the Saurans are the bad guys here? Perhaps it is you who enslaved them."

Jo smiled and told him, "Finally, you voice your true concerns. The unfortunate fact is you cannot be certain. Once we are on the Mother Ship and before you undergo the upgrade, you will be able to do some research of our systems. You might also wish to look at the records of the criminals we have in storage. Those records would include video of their capture and you would see the Saurans in action."

Jo turned away, in thought, and then looked deeply into Mike's eyes. "I haven't told you everything about that raid on your people. They killed three guards on the vehicle, and then ate some of their flesh to test if these humans tasted as bad as they had been told. Even an experienced warrior, such as you, would be disturbed to witness such an event.

"The choice to upgrade will be yours, Mike. I can't deny that I shall do everything I can to convince you. But the choice will be yours to make, albeit with some minor coercion.

"Humans have so many colloquialisms. My people do also. We have a saying that is similar to one of yours. When in doubt and lacking evidence, trust in your soul. The human equivalent would be...trust your gut, or to put it in a nicer way...listen to your heart."

The alien certainly had a clever way of using language to gain Mike's trust. Mike had dealt with a few trusted tribal leaders in Iraq. He found some to be men of honor and others very adept at earning trust, before killing Americans.

He badly wanted to believe in Jo, but his experience told him to be very cautious. He liked the Russian axiom...Trust, but verify. Yet, how could he go about verification? Possibly, this Mother Ship might be able to provide the guidance he needed to make a sensible choice, although he had his doubts about that as well.

When they were eleven hours from their destination, Mike's mind began to fill with excitement and new questions. By then, his body had made substantial improvement, so Jo reduced the gravity to 1.1g, which the alien reminded him was the standard gravity on all Sauran vessels.

"Jo, can we see the Mother Ship yet?"

"Certainly."

A few seconds later, the entire wall lit up and Mike saw the lens begin to zoom in on a few stony objects that composed much of this part of the Kuiper belt. He was surprised that he only saw a few objects.

"

Jo, I'm not seeing many asteroids. Where did they all go?"

"Mike, what little I have read about human knowledge of space indicates that you have excellent physicists, who understand the vast distances out here. But, the majority of your people don't comprehend very much about how your solar system is laid out. Using graphic depictions on television, they see a view indicating an asteroid belt, where these objects are clustered close together. In fact, there is considerable distance between each object. If one viewed the belt on the same plane, looking down its length, it would seem that the asteroids were much closer together than they actually are."

Pointing at the viewing screen, Jo told him, "Here, look again and you'll see the Mother ship coming into view."

### Mother Ship

Finally, an object appeared that looked out of place. He could tell that it was manufactured, due to its oblong, box like shape. As the view expanded, he chuckled at the ridiculous object that had travelled through billions of miles to this solar system. It looked as though dozens of different sized shoeboxes had been glued together. There was nothing aerodynamic about it at all.

Mike didn't want to seem insulting, so he kept his opinion of the object to himself. "Well, I can see it all right, but how big is it. Where are the weapons and sensors?"

"It isn't a warship, Mike. It does have a rather powerful laser, which is used on asteroids for retrieval of resources such as iron, nickel, gold and a host of other necessary elements for the fabricator."

"What's a fabricator? Can it make weapons? We'll need to be able to supply the men with a means to fight, so we'll need weapons."

Jo laughed. When he did, Mike heard the human equivalent of laughter through the speakers. But he also heard the alien's true voice, as it sent out a high-pitched warble. That got Mike laughing. It just sounded silly to him.

Finally, as they both calmed down, Jo said, "First, the Mother Ship. It's a transport and was never designed for combat. I was told that in the past they experimented with this design, converting it for combat, but it proved unworthy. It functions perfectly as a transport vehicle, but it will never be adequate as a war ship. It carries no weapons and, while it has shields to prevent small objects from perforating the hull, as it travels, it isn't powerful enough to protect it from the weapons of the warships we might face.

"By Earth measurements, it is one thousand eight hundred and forty meters long, four hundred sixty three meters at the widest point and has a mass of approximately four and a half billion metric tons, when empty."

"Jesus Christ! Four and a half billion tons?"

"Why do you use the name of your God?"

"It's just an expression of awe."

"Oh, I see. Most races don't do that. It is considered an insult to the God of the Universe."

"I'm sorry, Jo. I meant no offense."

"I know that. But you should avoid such outburst. On some worlds, it could cause a physical confrontation that might be counterproductive to our needs."

Mike had seen such confrontations between his troops and the more intolerant Muslims of Iraq. He nodded and told Jo, "I'll try to remember that."

Jo explained, "The ship's weight is of little concern, due to the gravitic compensators. Because the ship has enormous power, it can easily adjust those compensators to handle a weight far greater, when it is loaded."

Mike just shook his head, as he tried to grasp the magnitude of what he had been told. Four and one half billion tons. It was unfathomable to him. He vaguely recalled reading that the International Space Station was just over the length of a football field and weighed around 350 tons.

As his mind tried to put it all in perspective, the alien added more details. "There are three fabricators on board the Mother Ship. They are designed to produce items that wear out with heavy use. A fabricator produces parts for the engines, drive units, waste control and environment. Also, they can reproduce a great deal of other items.

"However, they can only manufacture those items for which there are programs. I know of no such programs for weapons, as that was not anticipated as necessary for the primary purpose of the journey."

"But certainly they had some means of manufacturing odd items which had not been anticipated as going bad or being damaged."

"Well, now that I think about it, there is a relatively small definer on board. You place an object inside of it and program it to analyze the item; the definer will 'Define' the object. It will do laser measurements, metallurgical and chemical analysis, of all components in the makeup of the various parts of it and then tell you if it can be reproduced. If it can be done, the definer will generate a program for the fabricator. Then, that item can be reproduced, providing you have the base elements needed.

"The Mother Ship carries a good supply of fundamental elements and some very hard to find rare elements. You have a large group of asteroids, between Mars and Jupiter, which contains thousands of bodies that are rich in metals."

Mike said, "That may come in handy."

He thought for a moment, and then commented, "I wish I knew more about the capabilities of the Sauran warships and their weapons."

Jo was about to speak, but Mike cut him off, by holding up his hand. "I know, I know! That information would be available once I've been upgraded."

Jo just grinned, as he said, "Yes. Some of that information might be available in the Mother Ship's computer, if we can gain access to the Senior Pilot's code access. You would call it a password, although it will be very long and complicated."

"Shit."

Jo had picked up a few of Mike's mannerisms. He nodded his head and said, "Ah yes, I agree. Excrement."

Mike had to laugh again, as did Jo. He felt it was a good sign that the alien demonstrated a sense of humor. He was aware that he was becoming more accepting of the alien and he had to keep reminding himself to remain on guard. Before he chose a path, there was still a lot to be discovered at this crossroad, as Jo had called it.

As they approached the Mother Ship, Jo explained that they would transition inside, via one of two access portals. Mike was able to view a close up of the hull and saw that it wasn't as smooth as he had first seen. The seemingly metallic hull looked old, pock marked and rippled with age.

When he told Jo that, the alien nodded and said, "Well, it is a very old ship."

"Yes, but I expected to see evidence of maintenance and some form of upgrading."

Jo explained, "You would find such improvements on warships, but not on an old transport like this one. In fact, if you saw a new transport, it would be identical to this one. I don't recall hearing about any substantially new designs for them.

"You see, the Saurans steal designs from the races they conquer. They make little effort to be inventive at all. However, they are good at copying what they can of other races hard work. All their creativity centers on war. They say that is one of their strengths and it's what makes them unbeatable."

Mike looked at Jo, as he emphatically said, "Well, we'll just have to see if that's true. If we can score a victory or two, it might shake their confidence."

"Mike, there is a huge difference between wishful thinking and victory."

"We humans tend to be arrogant at times. But, confidence, born of preparation is in our genes."

Jo gave him one of his tiny grins and said, "You may be correct about that."

Mike watched, as their small craft entered the enormous spaceship. The portal itself must have been two hundred meters across and nearly ninety meters high. Jo told him that leaving and entering the Mother Ship was always handled by the ship's computer. So, they sat there and waited as the entrance and docking maneuver was completed.

Jo left the viewing screen on, allowing Mike to see inside the hanger bay. He saw another small craft, like the one he was in, as well as another craft four times its size.

Jo told him the larger one was identical to the one in which the Saurans had died. Unfortunately, it was lost. He was glad the Saurans had perished, but it would have been good for Jo's purposes to have the other craft available. Mike was always aware of logistics. It was better to have and not need, than to need and not have.

When he quoted that axiom to Jo, the alien responded, "The Saurans have a similar saying, 'If you always carry what you need, you will never want."

Jo explained the clanging noises he heard. "The storage docking process mates a pressurized boarding passageway to our transport. That way, there is no reason to pressurize the transport storage area. When there is a need for a transport to leave or return quickly, it can be done in a minimum amount of time. The Mother Ship may be old, but it is an efficient design."

"Makes sense. Hey, Jo, are all the big spacecraft called Mother Ships? Don't any of them have a name?"

"All of them have names, but a human could never pronounce them and their meaning in your language could not be appreciated."

Mike shrugged his shoulders and asked, "So, what's the name of this ship?"

"Other Race Transport and Null-Mind Storage Vessel Number 723."

"That's not a real name. Basically, it's just ship number 723. Does that mean that there are seven hundred and twenty-three of this type spaceship?"

"You have the right idea. This ship is number 723 of a production line. It is over two hundred years old, so there are many more. As I indicated earlier, the Saurans don't make changes in design. As long as it works, they keep using it."

Mike thought for a moment, before hesitantly asking, "How many warships do they have."

"I don't know, but they must number in the many thousands."

"Jesus Christ. Hup, sorry about that."

"It doesn't offend me. But, saying that to a Zhanukiabanolis could cause trouble for you. They are a very religious race."

"OK. Can we just use the name Januki, instead of the name that I'll never be able to pronounce?"

"Of Course. I'll program the interpreter to substitute that, in your language. But, once you have been upgraded, that won't be necessary. You'll be able to say it and speak their words, just as they do, and you won't even realize you're doing it. Yet, your comprehension of what is being spoken will be complete. For most races in this arm of the galaxy, Galactic Standard is the language of communication. You'll be quite proficient in it, once you've been upgraded."

"Jo, you sure are pressing for me to be upgraded."

"You have learned enough to appreciate my concern and the urgency for a decision from you. I don't mean to be offensive, but I would like your decision within the next Earth day, if that would be possible. If you cannot bring yourself to decide, then I will return you to your cabin and you can continue fishing, as though your planet was safe from harm."

Mike became a little hostile. "All right, Jo. You're pushing me too hard now. When I'm ready, I'll let you know."

Jo showed no sign of offense. "As you would say, the clock is ticking."

"Son of a bitch."

"Humans use a large number of terms to demonstrate their anger and frustration. I find it interesting...perhaps even clever."

"Fuck you."

"Ah. You shift from frustration to anger, but I sense fear as well. I'll stop pushing so hard. But, forgive me if I provide little reminders for you."

Jo pointed to the exit. "Come. Let me show you the remains of the Sauran I killed."

The hatch opened for them and Mike followed Jo down the docking passage into Transport number 723.

Chapter 6

Jo explained, "We have a long walk to the Operation Center. The small craft storage hangar, where we arrived, is near the end of the Mother Ship, just in front of the engine area. Although I can access several systems that I was unable to use before the death of the Saurans, I haven't tried to use the ship's transport sleds, or make any changes that could be interpreted as interfering with the ship's mission. I feel it is wise to use caution, as I discover what I can do and what I cannot do. I fear there might be safety levers within the Sauran's computer codes that could send out an alarm or even trigger my immediate demise.

"I am reluctant to do too much, until I have been able to carefully probe the system. You see, the computer operates everything on a Sauran ship. It has been programmed to do what is necessary to comply with the mission. If I do something that it views as detrimental to the completion of that mission, I could be perceived as an enemy. The computer would have no trouble eliminating me."

Mike saw the obvious threat to them both. "Jo, why didn't you mention this before we came here?"

The tall alien stopped and gave him a serious gaze, as he explained. "Mike, you, or someone like you, is my only hope for true freedom. The trip back out to the Mother Ship had to be made, if I was to have any chance of success. I haven't lied to you about anything. I admit I've left out a few details, which will be revealed as we make progress."

Angrily Mike challenged, "LIKE WHAT?"

"Well, one extra reason I chose you was due to your computer training. The women of my race, Thorians, are some of the finest programmers in the Galaxy. Unfortunately, I don't have a Thorian female's ability with computer codes. It is my hope that a human with an understanding of basic computer functions would work with me to learn the complexities of Sauran computer codes, once he had been upgraded." Then he projected a satisfied grin at Mike.

Mike just shook his head, pointed down the passageway, and said, "Lead on, smartass."

A small, short robotic device came scurrying past them. Jo acted as though it was nothing, but Mike nearly leapt out of his skin. Jo noticed his reaction.

"That's one of hundreds of tiny robots that perform basic functions on the Mother Ship. They are harmless. As far as I know, they cannot be programmed to harm any creature. It is a safety feature that allows the Saurans to run the ship without fear of attack from within."

Mike, ever thinking as a warrior, said, "I wonder if we can change that. It could come in handy, if the Saurans trust them."

Jo nodded as he walked and explained, "The programs for the robots are sealed control chips, wrapped in armor protection. To change them, you must open them, and they are set to self-destruct if that were to happen."

"How do you know that."

"Accidents happen, even on a ship like this. I saw one get crushed and when the sealed control unit broke open, it instantly melted."

"Well shit."

"Do all warriors curse as much as you do?"

"No, Jo, not all of them. Although many of the guys do. It's a way of releasing our frustration, as you said earlier. If we bring more men on board, you're going to have to get used to it."

"How marvelous. I enjoy the diversity of your people's language. It's so expressive in so many ways. It reminds me of the Tobinary. They have many phrases to express their emotions."

"Would they be a race that can help us? Would they make good allies?"

"Most of the races I am familiar with are slaves, as are my people. If they are not slaves, I doubt that the Saurans would allow us to speak with them or even be near them."

"You know what, Jo. I've never met a Sauran and I already dislike them."

"Mike, if you ever cross paths with a Sauran, show him respect and act humble. They are used to it and take offense when they don't receive it from a race other than their own."

"Oh, my friend. It's so hard for me to be humble."

"I have sensed that in you from the very beginning. At first, that concerned me. But now I think perhaps it is the sign of a confident warrior. I don't know. I've never had the luxury of soliciting the aid of a warrior of any race. This is as new for me as it is for you."

They walked in silence along the length of the huge ship, a little over half a mile. Every now and then, Mike would ask about some part of the ship that grabbed his curiosity. Most of the time, the answer provided Mike with little illumination.

"We are near the Operation Center now. I must admit I cannot hide my fear as we approach. Although I know we are alone on this vessel, I quake at the thought of seeing a live Sauran about to punish me for what I have done."

"Don't worry. You have me to help you now."

"Mike, I mean no offense, but your ability to defend me against a Sauran doesn't create a sense of relief for me. You will understand when you see the dead Sauran."

"Jo, I just had a thought. Wouldn't one of these robots have cleaned up the dead guy by now."

"No. They can only enter the Operation Center if called upon to do so by a master. As I have told you, Saurans are cautious. They don't take chances with their safety."

Mike didn't respond out loud. But he felt that somehow, the Sauran's overcautious attitude could be one of their weaknesses. Certainly, there must be a way to exploit it.

The tall alien announced, "We are here."

There was a heavy looking armored hatch that was open and behind it was a closed hatch that had seen a lot of use. Mike saw the wear on the floor where the entrance had opened and closed. It opened like an elevator door, with two opposing panels that slid to the sides. Once open, it must have been ten feet tall and twelve feet wide.

Jo closed his eyes and the door opened. The stench was overpowering. Something horrible had been rotting in here for a while. Mike waited for Jo to enter, but the Thorian had frozen in place, his fear so great.

The entrance was very wide compared to anything one would find on a Navy vessel of Earth. Of course, he thought, it had been designed for the taller wider Saurans. He stepped around Jo and walked in, holding his hand over his nose.

His senses were alert, as his combat experience kicked in. It had been many years since his Army days and his training had been so thorough that he couldn't have subdued his instincts if he wanted to.

As he entered, his eyes began to sweep from left to right. Without conscious thought, he ducked and rolled away, as something went whirling by his head. He came backup to a fighting stance and found himself facing an eight-foot-tall Sauran warrior.

The creature must have been the one that Jo had killed or thought he had killed. He saw the burn wounds on its head and the eye sockets were still empty. With amazing speed, the huge beast launched at him and kicked out at Mike's new legs. This type of fighting wasn't new for Mike and he easily sidestepped the alien's foot, as he parried it with his hand.

As he pushed the leg aside, it felt like his hand had struck a metal bar and that bar just kept coming at him, kicking out blindly. Mike could almost predict the enemy's moves; but that didn't make those moves any less effective.

### Sauran Warrior

Mike called out, "Jo, give me a hand here."

There was no answer and Mike wasn't about to take his eyes off the huge muscle bound Sauran. He assumed that Jo was frozen in place where he last saw him, or he had run away.

How in the hell was this thing seeing him, if its eyes were gone? The monster was attempting to pin him into the corner, so Mike circled like a boxer.

The alien didn't bother with feints or subtle jabs. Every move was designed to land a brutal blow. If this guy ever connected, at the very least, he would break a few bones, and if he landed a kick or punch to Mike's head, it would be over.

The Sauran lunged at him and Mike quickly moved to his left, tripping over an object on the floor. Instinctively he rolled twice, just as fast as he could, and the creature came down knee first, right where Mike would have been.

Mike scrambled to his feet and gave a quick look around for some sort of weapon, anything that might inflict harm on this beast. That brief glimpse around the Control Center cost him. The Sauran's hand lashed out, as Mike leaned back away from it at the last second. While the alien didn't land a fatal blow, he was able to swipe him across the face, leaving three deep gouges in his cheek that hurt like hell.

He grunted but held his scream inside. You never let the enemy have any idea how badly you were hurt. The enormous bulk of the Sauran, followed too quickly for Mike to dodge it, as it crashed into him, sending them both to the floor. God must have been with him, because the Sauran didn't land on him. If it had, he might have been crushed beneath the four-hundred-pound monster.

The real trouble was Mike was now in the grasp of this ugly, smelly beast. The smell instantly got worse, as a flood of hot goo came flowing from the creature's mouth and nostrils. He rolled away from the foul substance and saw Jo standing over the Sauran, holding the very item that he had tripped over, earlier in the fight.

Mike laid his head back on the floor and tried to catch his breath, as the Thorian apologized.

"My friend, I'm so sorry. I thought I had killed him the first time and obviously I was wrong."

Between rapid breaths, Mike asked, "Well"...gasp... "is he"...gasp..."dead yet?"

"I'm afraid not, but that will change in a moment. It never occurred to me that this one had the complete combat package."

Jo went to a corner and picked up a strange looking device; twisted something on the handle, and then came back over to the alien, who certainly didn't seem alive to Mike. Jo let out a weird groan, as he pulled the heavy creature over onto its back.

He placed the odd instrument against the Sauran's belly and warned, "When I hit this scalehead with this cable torch, it is going to kill his combat shroud mind. You may wish to leave, because I fear the stench in going to get much worse."

Mike struggle to his feet; went to the door and said, "OK, go on and hit him with it. I want to watch. I guess it's just the veteran soldier in me. I want to be absolutely sure the son of a bitch is dead."

Jo nodded like a human and fired the torch. There was no flame, just a short ultraviolet light that sounded like a miniature freight train. The force of it shot into the alien's stomach, passed through his torso and came out beneath the ugly bastard, causing the body to jump around.

To Mike's amazement, Jo stuck his hand inside the Sauran's smoldering belly, felt around, and then produced a distorted blob of something metallic. "The Sauran is dead this time. The combat module has been destroyed."

A computer voice announced something, which came out of Mike's shoulder speakers, in English, a half second later. "I have no Sauran Pilot and must send an alert. Signal to be assembled and sent in one hundred and fifty seconds."

Jo looked horrified. "I didn't know this would happen. The computer must be following a preprogrammed command."

Mike immediately understood what was going on. He went to Jo and whispered, "Can the computer hear me?"

The computer answered, "Yes, I can hear you."

"Then cancel the alert. You have a Pilot here now."

"I am not allowed to follow the guidance of a Thorian. With the last Sauran dead, I must send the alert and request that a new Senior Pilot be delivered to me at the area commander's earliest convenience."

Mike thought quickly. This was like some damn computer game, except it was real.

He said, "The Sauran and I were practicing combat, when he was accidentally damaged. As his partner in the combat exercise, I shall now take command as the Senior Pilot, in his absence."

"You are not Sauran."

"Of course not. I am from the same genetic source as the humans, but my people left this planet many thousands of years ago. The Saurans have an agreement with my masters. We are to aid them in retrieving humans for research. You know this to be accurate, or did not the Sauran Senior Pilot include that in your program?"

"This information is doubtful. The Senior Pilot did not add this to my memories."

"Did he always make you aware of all his plans? Didn't he have his own instructions to follow that you were not made aware of?"

"Yes. A computer is never told everything. The Senior Pilot always functions according to the orders he had been given by his superiors. But you are not Sauran, so I cannot recognize you as the Senior Pilot. Sixty-seven seconds, before the message is sent."

His mind seemed to be going a million miles an hour. This was like some logic game he had played, when he was in night school. He had to keep the computer from sending that message.

"I am not a Sauran, yet I have been brought here to facilitate the mission of the Saurans. I have an obligation to our agreement and to the Saurans to complete this mission. I have the information, which you do not. Therefore, you have the ability to complete your mission, by temporarily accepting me as the Senior Pilot. Together, we can complete this work.

"If you waste time, by sending the signal and wait for a new Senior Pilot, you must know the Saurans will be angry for the delay. On my world, when a computer has failed to follow a logical way to complete an assignment, their memories are erased, and they are destroyed. How do the Saurans handle that?"

"It is true that the Saurans will be displeased. But you are not Sauran, so I cannot acknowledge you as the Senior Pilot."

Mike took a slightly different approach. "Very well. Under these circumstances, I must return to my world and report that the Saurans are unreliable partners in this endeavor and that their computers are also unreliable. Once the Thorian has delivered me to my ship, he will return here. But I must order him not to obey any order you may give. He is superior to you and I recognize him as the Senior Pilot, even if you do not."

"But he is not Sauran."

Mike was frustrated and could no longer hold his anger as he yelled, "He is a valued and trusted slave of the Saurans and the only member remaining of the crew on this vessel. He has knowledge of the mission and has done what he must to complete it, whereas you have not. When the Thorian feels it is necessary for him to request a new Senior Pilot then and only then may you send an alert."

"But he is not Sauran."

He played another idea. "Of course, he's not. You must have knowledge of other ships that have operated without Saurans on board. This is just another of those episodes."

"That is true. But those situations were due to combat losses."

"And you have experienced unfortunate losses here, as well. The Thorian shall take command and complete the mission with me at his side."

The computer remained silent.

Mike shouted, "You will acknowledge the Thorian as the Senior Pilot now, or at my command you will self-destruct."

He had no idea if there was such a possibility, as a self-destruct ability.

"I should not do that as the ship has not been compromised."

He pointed out, "The ship has not been compromised, but you obviously have been. You are not functioning properly, and you have jeopardized the mission and the agreement between our people. Therefore, you are not fit to continue operating."

The computer revealed its vulnerability by asking, "But how will you operate the ship, if I am not joined to the body of the ship to keep all systems going."

"Do you really think the Saurans would have brought a new ally to this mission, if he wasn't able to perform your simple tasks."

There was a long pause, and then, to his great relief, the computer weakly said, "I acknowledge the Thorian as the Senior Pilot."

Mike shouted angrily, "Say it louder and agree to follow all of his commands."

If ever a computer was agitated, this one was. With the sound painfully loud it said, "I acknowledge the Thorian as the Senior Pilot and will obey his commands."

Mike looked at Jo and calmly said, "Senior Pilot, may I suggest that a robot remove the dead Sauran and clean this stinking mess off the deck?"

Jo gave a frightened smile and said, "Computer, do as this human has suggested."

"Yes Sir."

As they waited for a robot to remove the Sauran, Mike gave it a good look. The damn thing must weigh four hundred pounds. He realized why Jo would have such extreme fear of the beast. It had plenty of scales on its arms and they looked thick with muscle. The rest of him was clothed in a black uniform, preventing Mike from seeing anymore of the Sauran's skin. By the way his shoulders, waist and legs filled out the black suit Mike knew the heavily muscled monster beneath could have easily beaten the crap out of him.

When he gazed at his alien friend, he felt sympathy for the former slave of these rotten bastards. He wanted to make a special connection with the Thorian, so he used his full first name. He softly said, "Jonelle, isn't there some way to get this stink out of here."

Hearing the use of his full name had a positive effect on Jo. "Oh yes. Yes, of course. I'm so sorry. I should have thought of that before I left to pick you up."

Jo looked away in thought and Mike felt the air begin to move around in the Op Center. He said, "Jo, I thought you told me these guys were lightning fast. He was fast as hell, but not that fast. And how was he able to find me, without any eyes."

Jo answered indirectly. "This one had a combat package upgrade. His operational mind had been reproduced and placed in an armored compartment in his stomach. When I burned out his brain, he went into a void state, as the secondary mind began to awake and rebuild what it could of the body. The idea being to keep it alive long enough to get it into a med unit, where it would be completely repaired. Then its memory would be placed into the new brain.

"When I left it on the floor, it began the process of fundamental salvation. It was only a few hours later, when I departed to find a warrior leader, which was you."

The Thorian looked shell shocked, as he spoke in a monotone voice.

"I did most of my research on the way to Earth, using the information the computer had already placed in the small transport. I was gone so long that the Sauran's secondary mind began to perform significant repairs on the beast. That's something I never knew could be done, outside of a class one med unit."

He looked at Mike and continued in a deadpan way of speaking.

"When an upgraded warrior loses one of his senses, he relies on all his other senses and the computer, to which he is still in contact. He could not see you with his eyes, but he could see through the computer's cameras in the Control Center. As for why you are alive...I suspect it is due to your combat experience and the fact that he was obviously not yet up to his normal abilities. My wounding of him slowed him down enough for you to survive. It was most fortunate."

Mike let out a chuckle. "That's the blasted understatement of the decade."

Jo was still troubled by the presence of the dead Sauran. Mike thought, the poor guy had been a slave for two hundred years. He was just beginning to believe in his freedom. His emotions must have been running on fumes when he came to Earth. And then to return here, only to find the damn Sauran was still alive. That would freak out anyone.

The few weeks Jo had spent with Mike were probably the first he'd ever been able to have a conversation as a free Thorian. It was remarkable really. Jo had held up well, as he dealt with Mike's concerns and all his endless questions. Mike felt he should cut Jo some slack.

Mike told him, "I'd like to get a better look at this Control Center, after a robot drags this piece of shit out of here."

Jo laughed in his weird way, before saying, "I truly enjoy the colorful way in which you utilize so many odd phrases to say one thing. And I'll especially enjoy seeing this "Piece of Shit" dragged from the Operations Center."

They both laughed heartily, which seemed to bring some sense of calm to Jo.

Finally, Mike took his first close look at the face of evil. The oblong head, with the eyes spread wide, was difficult to appreciate due to the damage rendered by Jo's assault on the creature. When Jo attacked the Sauran the first time with the line tester, it had literally boiled the remaining flesh in its skull. The grayish mush had exploded out of his eye sockets, nostrils, mouth and ears.

Even in death, the strange being projected a sense of evil. Only the Sauran's face and hands were not covered by a uniform. The skin had a greenish tint to it. Mike looked at the hands and fingers, which were quite a bit larger than a human's. He was sure they could easily rip out a man's throat or eviscerate his belly.

Jo took note of Mike's examination and told him, "The eyes are gone, but they are as frightening as the rest of him. They are a luminescent green and seem to stare right through you. For most sentient beings, it causes one to feel he can hide no secrets from the Beast."

Gazing at the beast's large hands and claws reminded Mike of his facial wound, which began to throb as he put a hand to his cheek.

Jo noticed and told him, "An hour in a med unit will fix that for you. There won't be any scar either."

"That's good news. Thanks, by the way. I'm sure I wasn't going to beat that bastard alone. If you hadn't put the juice to him, I was as good as dead."

Jo laughed at Mike's colorful way of putting it and said, "I was terrified, and you were so very courageous."

Mike felt it was time for a little pep talk for the frightened alien.

"Look, Jo, you did good. I was scarred shitless. It's normal. I guess my combat training and experience did have something to do with surviving. But even though you were frightened, you did what was necessary. That's what good warriors do. You're a better warrior than you might think. You should be proud."

Mike could see Jo stand a little taller, which emphasized his substantial height over the human.

Jo gave him a nob, before saying, "Thank you, my friend. Coming from a true warrior, I am honored, and I am proud. But, as you said, I am still scarred shitless."

Mike poked at the dead Sauran's skin and found it slightly flexible, yet tough. There was little give to it, primarily due to the thick muscle beneath.

He asked, "If I ever have to fight one of these guys again, where are the vulnerable points?"

"The eyes, of course. But, if it comes to that, you wouldn't have a chance. Despite their bulk, they can be surprisingly quick; much quicker than the one you faced. It would be best if you killed it with a weapon as soon as you saw it, because it would certainly do the same if it saw you first."

"Yeah, I guess so. In combat, you kill the enemy as quickly as possible, before he does it to you."

"Yes Mike, that is basic Sauran martial philosophy. Where combat is concerned, they are killing machines."

A robot, unlike any he had seen, showed up and began the task of removing the dead Sauran. As the two-armed, four wheeled robot hefted the Sauran carcass onto its flat lower casement, Mike suggested, "Let's not toss him out into space just yet. I don't know why, but I think we should hold onto him for now. You never know how he might be able to help us."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that sometimes a body can come in handy. We'll see."

"I have no idea how that could be. But I trust the judgment of a combat veteran. I'll have the Robot put him in stasis."

"Good. Now, I want to change some of the names of things, to better suit the human mind, if that's all right with you."

"Certainly. What do you wish to change?"

"Humans would normally call the Operations Center the bridge. It will have a positive effect on my fellow warriors, if they hear terminology they already understand."

"Very well," Jo replied, "the Operations Center is now the bridge. What else would you like to change."

"Jo, even with upgrades, it will be much easier for humans, if we make all references of measurements in human terms. I have no idea how the other races in the Galaxy calculate distance, or size. You seem to have already made an accommodation for me, regarding the length and weight of the ship. And, you have also provided me with a sense of time, by explaining it to me in years. But what about my equivalent time measurement of seconds, minutes and hours?"

Jo nodded, as he watched the robot carry away the hated, dead Sauran. "I could explain the fundamental methods for time and distance to you, by providing comparisons between common human terms and galactic standard. And yes, there must be standard measurements throughout the galaxy. Otherwise, it would be impossible to coordinate movements and communication with other races. However, this is something that you will find easier to grasp, once you have the upgrade."

He looked at the human and smiled smugly, or so Mike thought.

"Jo, you're not even trying to be subtle now. That's just insulting." But he was grinning as well.

Jo became business like, when he said, "I believe I should show you to your quarters. While I was gone, I had the robots create a living space for you, in anticipation of your joining our cause."

"Our cause? You mean your cause, don't you?"

"No, I mean our cause. Whether you decide to join in the fight or someone else takes your place, the cause of survival for both of our races should be the primary concern for both of us."

"Boy, you're really pushing it hard now, Jo. Give it a rest."

Mike looked back up at Jo and said, "Tell me about these preparations you've made for me."

"I'll take you to your private quarters. Please follow me."

Out of the bridge, and six steps down the passageway, Jo stopped in front of a doorway. It opened automatically and Jo led them inside.

"These will be your living quarters now that the Senior Pilot is dead. It is near the bridge, in case the Senior Pilot is called forward for an emergency; although, in space, that usually means you're already dead."

Mike looked around and was amazed at the luxury. It was quite large, compared to a Human naval ship. The room was at least forty feet long and perhaps thirty feet wide. It had dark a gray carpet and a lighter color, thin fabric on the walls and ceiling, which must have been twelve feet high.

There were two of the large chairs, which would comfortably seat the Thorian; but four more chairs of human size were there, as well as a human style sofa. Even the metal end tables had been sized for human needs.

Jo explained, "I've taken the liberty of setting the computer to perform by your voice commands. If you wish more light, you merely have to say so. Your bedchamber and private hygiene facility are through that door, which will open for you, when you tell it to do so. For the more immediate needs of your guests, there is a hygiene facility through the other door, over there." Jo pointed to the other side of the room.

One wall was completely unused, until the alien closed his eyes and it flashed on, like a television screen, showing him thousands of ice bodies, in the Oort cloud.

"Jo, will the computer obey my commands?"

"I've instructed it to do so. It will not obey your commands to alter the basic mission of the ship or do anything which would put the ship in danger. But otherwise it will accept your instructions."

After weeks together during the trip out, both had begun to recognize the intent of their respective body languages. They even began to copy each other. As a human would do, Jo held up his hands, palm forward, as if to stop Mike and told him, "I'm not trying to assassinate an already deceased equine, but I should point out that you will be able to have the ship perform for you with ease, once you have the upgrade. You will simply think it and it will be done."

Mike began laughing and had trouble stopping, before he asked, "Did you deliberately alter that phrase or was it just you being specifically accurate."

Jo smiled, obviously pleased with himself and admitted, "I have noticed that you seem to enjoy my failed attempts to use human colloquialisms. I confess that this time it was a deliberate effort on my part to please you, as I subtly provided impetus to guide you in the direction of joining the rebellion."

"Oh, you're good."

"Thank you, Mike. A Thorian who has survived for more than two hundred years, under the heavy heel of Sauran boots, must learn to say the right thing at the right time, if he is going to remain alive."

Jo gave Mike a thin-lipped grin and said, "I'll leave you for now. I'm sure you would like to clean up and probably experience some sleep. When you are ready to examine more of the ship, just tell the computer and it will summon me."

"Where are you going to be?"

"I tire as you do. I've taken the Junior Pilot's quarters, across the passageway from you. I intend to cleanse and rest, and then eat. By the way, if you are hungry, tell the computer."

Mike stood and waved his hands back and forth before his face. "Wait a minute. We've got to change a few more names here. Instead of Senior Pilot, let's call him Captain; and instead of Junior Pilot, we'll call him the Executive Officer, or XO. And we definitely have to come up with a name for this ship and the computer."

Jo looked puzzled. "You wish to name a computer. It isn't alive. Why would you do that?"

"I guess because we talk to it, as though it was alive. It obeys our commands, doesn't it, so it's like a servant or a...a steward in a human Navy. When we bring others on board, before they receive their upgrades, they will interact with the computer. They will accept the entire process much easier, if they can speak to a named intelligence. Oh, and it should be a woman's name."

Jo suggested, "We could name it after your late wife."

"No. That would be too emotionally painful for me. I don't like the idea of all those guys talking to my wife."

"Ah yes, of course. I understand and I apologize."

"It's all right. I know you meant well. Perhaps we should give her a name that they can relate to."

Mike began laughing and Jo asked, "What?"

"Well, for some strange reason, I remembered being in a strip joint in Baltimore in my youth. There was this one girl there, with huge boobs, named Bambi. Most guys would get a kick out of that, although the brass would probably object."

Jo told him, "I don't know what a strip joint is, but if you feel that is a good choice for a name, then we will call the computer Bambi. You are the Grand Leader of the rebellion and as such, your decisions must prevail. Once the others arrive, they will not know that she was only recently named. They should accept it, I would think."

Mike grinned and said, "Ok then. The computer is now Bambi. I assume you will make the necessary change?"

"Yes. It's already done. Bambi, say hello to the Grand Leader."

A voice came from nowhere. "Hello, Grand Leader. I hope that my name is pleasing to you."

Mike cried out, "OK, next change. We will not be calling anyone Grand Leader. It's too...North Korean. I'll explain that later. For now, I guess I'm like the Captain and these are the Captain's quarters."

Jo closed his eyes and Mike knew he was implementing the change.

Bambi said, "Captain, I'll have new uniforms ready for you in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Bambi."

Jo told him, "It's unusual to thank a computer. Saurans would see that as a sign of weakness."

"Nonsense. Being polite is never weakness, although it could be misinterpreted that way. Say, how do I get her to change her voice?"

"Just talk to her and explain to her the subtleties as best you can. When she is wrong, tell her so and she'll make adjustments. Eventually she will be speaking as a human, if that is what you wish. Saurans would never allow a computer to speak as a sentient being. It would be an insult to them."

Mike got an evil grin on his face and said, "Well, it looks as though humans are going to be shaking things up out here."

Jo looked concerned and told him, "Sometimes, you frighten me, Mike. You seem to relish turning things inside out, even though there could be drastic results. You must be very cautious about altering the balance of conventional wisdom. Most beings will not appreciate it."

Mike reached up and patted the tall alien on the shoulder. I know that, Jo. I just get like that when I'm with someone I trust. And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to wash and get some sleep."

"Yes, of course Captain Hurst. We will speak again after an adequate rest period."

Mike knew that Jo was more astute about human terminology than he let on. Jo seemed to enjoy prodding Mike by deliberately using alternative phrases for various functions. Sleep for instance, was rest period. The thing was, Mike felt more comfortable with Jo, because he displayed a sense of humor.

When he entered his bedroom, he was amazed again at the amount of space devoted to it. And the bed...it was enormous. Jo had not bothered to have it sized for human use. It must have been ten feet square. There were murals on the wall of Saurans chasing odd looking animals. The one over the bed showed one of the evil bastards ripping the throat out of some poor creature, while it was still alive.

"Bambi, can you change the pictures on the walls please. Just leave them blank for now."

"I can do that Captain, but a robot will have to remove them. They are not projections and must have the proper chemicals to eliminate those images. I shall have a robot sent to your quarters immediately."

"No, hold off on that. Wait until I get some sleep. Once I'm out of the bedroom, you can send in the robot. By the way, how many robots are there on board?"

"There are currently one hundred and twelve robots actively working, another five hundred on standby and two thousand three hundred eighty-eight robots in storage, for a total of three thousand robots, which is the standard number issued to this design of transport.

"If you would like, I can give you the complete list of which type robots there are on board, by task assignment, or peculiar specialty."

Mike told her, "I'm sure I'll want to review that, but not now. Remind me later."

"Yes sir."

"Bambi, also remind me to work with you on your voice inflection. I think it needs some improvement."

"Yes sir."

He removed his clothes and looked in the bathroom. He saw what looked to be a huge shower stall, but there was no showerhead or spigots to turn on the water.

With a sigh of exasperation, he said, "Bambi, how do I turn on the shower?"

"Just ask, Captain."

"Do it and don't make it too hot, about one hundred degrees Fahrenheit should be good."

There was a brief pause, and then water began falling from the ceiling of the stall. He looked around for soap but saw none. This was getting frustrating.

"Bambi, could you get me some soap."

"Sir, the cleansing material is in the liquid. When you are clean, say so and I will change it to pure H2O for you to rinse. Also, as you exit the stall, warm air will remove the excess water and your new clothes will be on your bed."

"Thank you, Bambi. You are very efficient."

"I know, sir. I was designed that way."

The computer's responses seemed to possess boarder line sentient intelligence; although Jo had assured him that she was merely a programmed computer. Still, Mike liked speaking with her. It had a calming effect on him, and he knew that would be the general response of the men he intended to recruit.

He stopped for a moment, because he realized that he was thinking seriously about accepting Jo's offer. He was considering men he would recruit and how they should be brought on board. He mentally scolded himself, because he was falling prey to Jo's cleverness. He must be wary, as things progressed, and be aware of anything that might suggest Jo was not what he claimed to be.

After a long shower and dry off, he walked back into the bedroom to see a platform disappearing into the ceiling above the bed. A new uniform was waiting for him beneath it, neatly folded in the center of the huge sleeping area.

He placed the uniform on the far side of the bed. Then, naked, he slipped under the sheet-like material, placed his head on an oversized pillow and thought, "Damn pillows were meant for a blasted Sauran. I'll have Bambi change them later." Finally, able to relax, Mike let his weariness take control, as he quickly dozed off.

Chapter 7

When Mike awoke, he had Bambi send in some food. She asked if he had a preference, but not knowing how to describe the taste, he told her, "Just send something that Jo would like. If I don't like it, we'll scratch it off the list and move on to something else."

The first two items were quickly removed. Fortunately, the third tasted a little like black beans, which he could live with.

After eating and dressing, he asked to speak with Jo. One minute later, Bambi announced that the Thorian was seeking entry.

"Let him in, Bambi."

Jo walked into the room and greeted him, "Mike, I'm happy to see you look much refreshed. Shall we get to work."

"I haven't made my decision yet."

"Oh. I wasn't referring to that. I want to make you aware of the current situation. I have been checking the beacons for evidence of other Sauran ships."

Mike's heartbeat picked up immediately.

"There have been none."

"That's good news. Tell me about these beacons."

"When the first Saurans arrived here, over one hundred years ago, they placed six beacons around your solar system. A beacon can track transmissions of various sorts; most types of radiation that would be produced by a spaceship and large gravity variations, which would indicate the unfolding of a ship."

Before Mike could ask what unfolding meant, Jo held up his hands and said, "I mean no offense, but the archaic fossil fuel transports that are used to put satellites in orbit around your planet and other close in celestial bodies, are easily tracked and not worth worrying about."

Mike wasn't thinking of Earth satellites. Jo had misjudged what Mike was going to ask about. He wanted to know what it meant when a ship unfolded. But he didn't wish to seem ungrateful for Jo's concern about other matters. So, he remained silent, as Jo continued, although he intended to bring up the subject of unfolding later.

"If a Sauran vessel or any other interstellar spacecraft were to appear within four hundred million kilometers of a beacon, it would probably be noticed. The beacons retain all such information, until they have been queried by the Mother Ship. Then they download the information and Bambi analyzes it. If anything of interest were discovered, she would notify the Captain. Because you have not officially accepted the job, I had her report to me. I hope that was acceptable."

Mike pandered to Jo for the moment. "No, that's perfect, Jo. Technically, you are the Senior Pilot and the Executive Officer of the rebellion and as second in command, you need to be privy to the same info that I have. If something happens to the Captain, the XO must be prepared to take over immediately."

He could have kicked himself. He kept talking as though it was a foregone conclusion that he would accept Jo's offer and become the leader of this cluster fuck operation. Why he did so was merely his life long habit of interjecting his thoughts about the best way for a military organization to function.

He told the tall alien, "Jo, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not going to take the job. However, I do want you to be successful, in your fight against the Saurans. You have already given a great deal of thought to what must be done. I'll help you find someone to guide you; but you are the one to direct this group of warriors you wish to build."

Jo twisted his hand, indicating dissatisfaction and disagreement. "I am not a leader like you, Mike. I have never led and have no wish to. As soon as you have your upgrade and select my replacement, I will be greatly relieved."

"Jo, have you ever seen a Sauran make a mistake?"

"Of course, many times."

"How did you know it was wrong."

"Well, I just knew. The proper obvious choice was not made and when it was not, I was always surprised, because the correct choice was so simple to see. Of course, I should note that the Saurans who staff transports and retrieval ships are not the best of their race. If anything, they are the worst and most foolish. Naturally, I kept my opinions to myself."

Mike smiled and told him, "You have learned much, my friend. You know a mistake when you see it. That's more than some commanders I've known."

"Nonsense! I am an old slave and should not be the one to make important decisions."

Somewhat angrily, Mike told him, "Nonsense, right back at you. In this solar system, no one knows the Saurans as you do. As a commander, you will seek out the opinions of others, but you must use your knowledge to avoid having a person of lesser knowledge take us in the wrong direction."

Jo sighed, which was another humanism he had picked up. "Very well, Mike; we disagree. Shall we proceed?"

"By all means. What's next?"

Jo told him that he ordered Bambi to launch four more beacons, and place them far out from their ship's current location. This would provide them with a better early warning capability. If anything showed up, the detecting beacon would contact the Mother ship by a tight gravity beam transmission, so as not to give away the presence of these early warning beacons.

The gray alien felt it would be wise to have better early warning coverage on their side of the solar system, as the Mother Ship was listed as being in this area. Any Saurans who passed nearby would expect to contact them in this general location.

It was unlikely that they would need to talk with the Senior Pilot, but they might. Otherwise, Bambi could handle an exchange of information between computers. That could avoid revealing the truth about the ship's unfortunate change of command and keep the other Senior Pilot satisfied. They could attempt to bluff their way through a communication between Senior Pilots, but Jo felt it would be unsuccessful.

He explained, "Saurans have an odd way of talking with each other. It would be nearly impossible for us to duplicate, as we couldn't anticipate the nature of the topics that might arise between them. I fear our ruse would quickly be discovered. If that happened, the other ship's Senior Pilot would certainly wake the rest of his crew and proceed to track down this ship and destroy it."

Jo emphasized, "They don't take chances."

"Something you just said intrigues me. The other Captain would wake his crew. Does that mean that he is the only one awake?"

"No. There are never less than two crewmembers on duty. On long journeys, most of the crew is placed in stasis. They are awakened if needed. The Senior Pilot will alternate with the Junior Pilot and each will have an additional Sauran with them. It saves on supplies. When they arrive at their final destination, the entire crew is awakened, and their work begun."

Mike uttered to himself, "It would sure come in handy if we have to face another ship and most of their crew is in stasis. I imagine we could exploit that somehow. We don't have to worry about it right now, but that knowledge will be helpful, if one of these clowns show up."

Jo corrected him, "They are Saurans, not clowns; or is that another of your insulting references?"

Mike grinned. "It is definitely an insulting reference. Now, let's talk about this list of potential warriors you have shown me. I have designated about two hundred whom I think could be interested in joining you. But how do we find them."

"That has already been done. If you recall, I had been searching through records of wounded soldiers. These men are either at home or in a hospital of sorts. The people of your world certainly have been effective at putting the old and badly damaged warriors away. It's as though the government is ashamed of them and wants to keep them hidden."

Mike grimaced and confessed, "I'm ashamed that you have noticed the truth of it. Humans don't like to be reminded of the horrible consequences of war. By downplaying the condition of these men, the elected officials don't have to take responsibility for their decision to send them to war. Not that a war is always unavoidable.

"When evil tyrants refuse to exercise reasonable control over their ego, it can lead to war, no matter how willing the other side is to compromise."

"Yes, Mike. That is certainly true. When the Saurans attacked my people, we had just reached an agreement that was unpleasant, yet we thought it led to peace with them. We were very naive."

"It sounds like our history. We had a guy with whom we made a peace agreement, between several countries and his. Then he invaded them a few months later. Millions died."

Jo told him, "Yes...Adolf Hitler. I learned about him when I was doing research on your planet's history. A remarkable similarity to what my people faced, except it cost us billions of lives, our freedom and our world. I pray that it doesn't happen to your people."

"As do I, my friend."

Mike couldn't stop his mind from working on Jo's problem.

"Jo, I've been thinking, warriors aren't going to be enough. You'll need people who have knowledge of physics and the concepts of space travel. They would appreciate the knowledge boost you offer and because they would already have the mindset of a scientist, they could do a better job of learning for the entire human race.

"The trouble is I haven't any idea as to how to get them to join you."

Speaking without evil intent, Jo said, "We kidnap them, as I did you."

Mike laughed. "Jo, when I went missing, people probably thought I got dragged off by a bear and eaten. Other than my son, there is no one who cared if I disappeared. But a scientist, he would definitely be missed."

Jo suggested, "Don't forget we do have something to offer. When we upgrade them, they will regain their youth and have access to amazing technical information. Perhaps that would entice them."

"You know what? I bet that could work. An old scientist who is reaching the end of his years and suddenly has a chance to expand his brainpower and experience new science beyond his dreams. I'll have to work on that.

"Our biggest problem will be removing so many people from the planet, without raising concerns."

Jo spread his hands out face down and said, "Perhaps one of the people on your list will have some ideas for us to consider."

With a big grin, Mike responded, "You can bet you sweet ass on it. Some of these people are brilliant. We are going to be buried in ideas. I hope we'll have the time to explore them."

"Once you have been upgraded, your mind will work at incredible speeds. You'll be able to process hundreds of interesting items simultaneously. And all the while, your body will be doing all the other things it does to keep you alive, only it will do it better."

"You're pushing again."

"Yes I am. The sooner you have the upgrade the sooner we can begin."

"Tell me about the upgrade again. What will it be like to go through the process for a human?"

"As I told you days ago, it is painful. You cannot be heavily sedated, because that impairs the procedure. After Bambi reviewed your medical response to the regrowth of your legs and eye, she believes you would be able to have a mild painkiller as a salve to the discomfort. The process shouldn't last for more than four or five days.

"If you choose to accept the full warrior upgrade, it could last a few weeks. There is simply no way to be sure, as humans have never been completely upgraded before. You would be the first. As bad as it sounds, I urge you to suffer this process. For the rest of your long life to come, you would be nearly impervious to many forms of harm.

"Furthermore, I wish to point out that you truly are a warrior now. From the reports I have read, you are an excellent man with weapons of many types. With a full combat upgrade, you would be able to handle thousands of weapons from all over the galaxy. The speed with which you could learn to utilize those weapons is beyond your current comprehension."

Jo paused, when he saw the deep concern on Mike's face.

He asked the alien, "If I do this, Jo, I'll go all the way. If I'm going to suffer, I might as well do it for a few more days. Once I've gone through all of this, I'll never have to do it again."

"That's true. I've seen Saurans go through repairs and upgrades. Of course, they don't react, as I suspect you will."

Mike shrugged. "Maybe I won't have any bad reaction."

"I wish I could give you some hope in that regard, but it would be false. Bambi's assessment is based on the human genetic history that is in the ship's library. Your genes will react as other similar genes have done. Those records are based on millennia of tests performed on several different races. Unfortunately, I feel certain that this estimate is correct, and you will suffer great pain."

Mike shouted, "GREAT PAIN. You never said anything about great pain before."

"I don't know for a fact that it would be that bad for you, but I don't wish to mislead you, Mike. I feel a friendship growing here and I've not had that for more than two hundred years. I don't wish to see my new friend in pain, but I won't lie to him either."

"Oh Jesus."

"Yes. It is appropriate that you make a request of your God. Only he can see you safely through the gates of the demon's home."

Mike looked at him in wonder, and then recognition struck. "Oh, you mean the gates of hell."

"Yes. I believe that would be the correct human term."

They talked for hours. Mike was concerned about how to proceed, if something went wrong with his upgrade. He wanted to be sure that the medical unit would make a complete record of everything involved, so that it could get the procedure right with the next human, even if he ended up a vegetable. He had to explain what that meant to Jo, who cringed, as he did.

"Another thing, Jo. When we go back to Earth, we'll take the big transport, and let's call it a shuttle. I think my human friends will accept the term better. We will need to carry as many med units as possible, so we can begin to repair their bodies on the way back here. How many do you think we can squeeze in? Keep in mind we'll need provisions for perhaps two months."

Without hesitation, Jo answered, "Fifty six units plus supplies."

"Are you sure? That's one hell of a lot of med units."

"The small shuttle you saw was actually very small. You were in a room, if you recall. The med unit itself wasn't that big. We can stack the men up and repair them, as we travel back. Several of them will be fully repaired before we leave, that will leave space for more men. Taking that into consideration I would say we could easily bring back two hundred."

"TWO HUNDRED! How in the hell are you going to do that?"

"We'll bring stasis containers with us; they're relatively small. After the men have been repaired, we'll put them in stasis and attach those units to the outside of the large shuttle. They'll do us no good, until we return to the ship anyway. I'm afraid the upgrade equipment is a little too large for any substantial number of them to be of use on the shuttle trips to Earth. And we don't have enough shuttles either. I'll have Bambi begin fabricating more of them immediately."

Mike looked at Jo in wonder, as he asked, "She can do that? She can make more shuttles that easily?"

"Well, perhaps not easily. But, with the use of fabricators, she can have another shuttle made in..." He closed his eyes and, and then said, "A week, or so, if we have all of the elements on board to do the job, and I believe we do."

"Holy cow! It would take humans two years to build one, providing they had the designs for them. And even then, it might not work right. How reliable would a shuttle made out here be?"

"Very. The one you rode in was made on this ship about sixty years ago and it seems to work just fine. It is considered to be relatively new and should last for three hundred years. Of course, it will be constantly maintained and repairs will need to be conducted."

Mike just shook his head and mumbled, "I am so out of my element here."

Jo placed a hand on Mike's shoulder and softly told him, "Yes, my friend, you are out of your element. But humans are adaptable as no other race I am aware of. You will be able to comprehend all of this much better, after you have been...well, you know."

Mike shot Jo a look of false anger and said, "Yeah, I know."

The conversation continued, as they ate and planned for a return trip to Earth. Mike made sure to create a list of foods he wanted to bring back for replication. Jo told him that could be done on the shuttle, as the food replicators weren't really that big, although they might have to bring back a few less men.

"Food is an important factor for a warrior. We'll bring the food replicator. Also, we want to bring back a supply of various types of weapons. Human warriors will be familiar with them and perhaps Bambi can work with a few of the armorers we'll pick up. With her knowledge, she might even be able to make improvements to the weapons."

Jo asked, "Armorers?"

"Yes, those are men who repair and build small weapons for soldiers. They may prove invaluable."

"Ah yes, I can see how they might be helpful. As for human weapons, Bambi will download all the various types and designs for the weapons you wish to duplicate. The fabricators will be able to manufacture them, as needed. Yet, I suspect they will be of little use out here. Humans must learn to use the sort of weapons they will face, when they combat the Saurans."

"I thought you said there are no weapons on board."

"No. I said there are no designs for them in the fabricators. The Saurans who went to Earth certainly carried weapons with them. So, there must be a source for them somewhere on the ship. We will have to look around and see if there is such information available. I find it hard to believe that the Saurans wouldn't have the ability to fabricate weapons on demand."

Mike agreed, saying, "From everything you've told me, that seems logical."

Jo changed the direction of their discussion to another topic. "Mike, you mentioned females. Should we make a list of them for retrieval?"

"Ah yeah...well ah, no. Not this trip. We'll consider it a little later. If we go for women, they'll have to be selected very carefully and they must be told exactly what they're getting into."

"Of course. Just like the men. The choice will be theirs."

Finally, they had reached a point where Mike could think of nothing else. Jo hadn't made any more suggestions and he hadn't made any references to upgrading. The absence of his constant prodding was conspicuous.

Mike stood up and announced, "All right Jo. I'll do it. But let's do it now, while I'm in the mood. I might change my mind later. What part of the ship do we go to for this?"

Jo spoke seriously. "I had Bambi set up a special upgrade unit for you right next to your quarters. I will need to be near the bridge, and I'll want to monitor you personally, although Bambi will have control of this complicated process."

Jo headed toward the door and said, "Come, I'll show you."

They walked down the passageway to a door seventy feet from his quarters. Now that he had made the decision to proceed with the alien alteration of his body, he had a strong urge to renege. Mike felt as though he had been sentenced to death and was walking the last steps to his doom.

When they entered the upgrade unit, he found it to be welcoming. It had soft padded chairs for both human and Thorian. The walls were covered with light green fabric and it looked to be padded as well as the ceiling. There was a flat padded bed against one wall, and it had stations for strapping down the patient. Mike had been told that was necessary. He didn't want to talk about that part of the process, so he deliberately ignored the bed.

"Why is everything padded?"

Jo pushed on the wall, verifying the softness of it and explained, "As I have warned, I believe you will go through periods of great pain. You may act out violently at times and I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"How very thoughtful of you." Mike had spoken facetiously, but Jo hadn't taken it that way.

"You are quite welcome. It is the least I can do for the savior of our two races."

Rather than shoot back a harsh comment, Mike let it go. Instead he told Jo, "Look, I'm only going to experience the pain this one time, so I want everything. If I'm going to suffer, I might as well get the full upgrade package, with all the combat goodies this crazy machine can give me. After seeing that damn Sauran, I know I'm going to need it."

"It is a wise choice, my friend and a courageous one. Only a warrior thinks like that, I'm sure. I am proud to call you my friend."

"Jo, you say that as if you'll never see me again."

"In truth, I shall not. The human I've grown to like, respect and admire, will be gone. For this brief period, it has been wonderful to be superior in mental capacity above all those around me, although you were the only one present.

"After you have completed the upgrade, we will communicate more frequently by direct mind transfer and it will be at an incredible speed. I shall miss the slow verbal communications with the Sergeant who won my trust, as I attempted to earn his. The new man...the Captain of this ship and of our new Army, will be the same man at heart, but the speed of your thoughts will quickly change you. To use one of your colloquialisms, no longer will either of us be in Kansas."

Mike laughed nervously and asked, "Will you still be assaulting me with my own pet phrases"

"Oh yes, that won't change. But the enjoyment of those moments will probably fade quickly, due to the speed of your thoughts."

Mike commented, "Evidently, we must both pay a price. And don't forget, you promised to have an upgrade, if I did. I'm going to hold you to that."

"Oh course, although I must admit that I'm as concerned about the process as you seem to be."

They stared at one another, and then Mike asked, "So, what's next?"

"When you are ready and have removed all your clothing, I will strap you to the bed. A robot will establish a few entries into your blood stream to provide a means for the various elements to be administered. Bambi will administer a preliminary sedative to ease you into the first part. While you are being treated, you will receive large doses of nutritional liquids. Your body will need the additional sustenance, because your flesh will grow as the process goes forth."

"How long will I be strapped down?"

"Until you have finished writhing and screaming. I'll let Bambi decide when to release you."

"Damn it, Jo, did you have to put it that way? Couldn't you have said that differently?"

"I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to think I had lied to you about any of this. It is possible this may not be as bad as I have made it seem, but I can't be sure."

"Wonderful," he said, as he undressed and lay down on the bed.

Jo was careful, almost tender, as he strapped Mike's arms, torso and legs to the bed. Once restrained, Mike was very nervous, so he told Jo, "Let's get his damn thing started. Please don't make me wait."

Jo closed his eyes and looked up, as he communicated with the computer. A robotic arm came out of the wall and the straps held his arm steady as a nozzle sprayed something cold on the area where he was to be injected. Then a large gage needle was pushed into his veins. He hardy felt it. Within seconds he became drowsy

From that moment on, he was in a mental fog. The lighting changed several times and he wasn't sure if it was an illusion, or if it was necessary for the procedure. He had no way of knowing whether the process had begun, or how long he lay there.

Although he was very groggy, he was certain that he had been there for several hours, when he began to feel the pain. It was on his skin at first, but then he felt it deep in his stomach. It went from an ache to a mild throb and finally to sharp agonizing pain, as though someone had stabbed him in the gut with a knife.

He screamed and begged for relief. He was vaguely aware of Jo's presence, and his firm steady voice became a source of comfort for Mike to focus on. Fortunately, he passed out several times, which gave him an opportunity to miss out on some of the fun.

At one point, he remembered Jo telling him, "We must make a few changes, but it's going well, Mike. Bambi tells me she knows exactly what to do. You're going to be fine."

Jo's tone lacked believability, or so he thought. But at this point, there was nothing he could do but groan and scream. It seemed to go on forever. Somewhere during his upgrade, Jo released his bonds and he jumped up and ran around, banging into the walls and furniture. He damaged a few chairs, at one point, as he picked them up and broke them with his bare hands.

After going through this for an untold period of time, Mike's anguish began to subside. Jo talked to him, when he was finally able to focus on his words.

"You've done well my friend, but I need to get you back on the bed. You must try to rest, as the combat warrior changes begin to take effect."

Mike had slobber running down his face, as he nodded and slumped onto the huge bed. He was vaguely aware that Jo was strapping him in again. A cool wet cloth was placed over his face and he thought, I guess I'm going to survive this damn thing after all. That's when needles began injecting things into him all over his body.

Jo leaned in close and said, "I'm afraid the hard part begins now."

Mike bolted up, but only as far as the tightly wrapped straps would allow. He heard Bambi's voice say, "I'm sorry Captain," and then the real agony sent him to hell.

The pain was beyond mind numbing. That would have been a blessing. This pain was mind scrambling. His body arched up and back down with tremendous force, as he attempted to avoid the torture. His natural instinct was to run away from it, as though being somewhere else would stop the agony.

He began hallucinating. In his tormented mind, he relived some of his worst experiences in combat. He saw dead friends killed again and his heart wept for them. But the absolute worst and best of it was when his late wife appeared.

Sherry came to him as a real live person. How strange that he could know she was gone, yet see her and converse with her, as though she was in the room.

"Mike, my darling," she began. "I'm here for you. It's horrible that you must endure this torment, but you know it is for a good reason. You are the bravest and most honorable man I've ever known. I know you can do this and go on to do the job that only you can do. I love you so much, Honey-Bunny."

No one knew of her pet name for him. She only spoke it when they were alone, and she was in a loving mood. It had to be Sherry talking to him from the beyond.

He spoke to her. "Sherry, I've missed you so much, baby. I want to touch you and hold you in my arms. I need to feel your lips on mine again."

She reached out to him and he felt her fingers softly stroke his face. He cried, not in pain, but in the grief borne of his underlying realization that this wasn't really happening. Yet, his mind wanted it to be real, so he held onto the hallucination for as long as he could.

Their conversation went on a long time. They talked about old friends and spent a good deal of time reminiscing about their son Wayne, when he was a baby. He told her how proud he was of Wayne, when he graduated from the Naval Academy, and that he was a jet pilot now.

She embraced him, saying, "I know Mike, I've watched him every inch of the way. I'm so very proud of him, too. He's such a fine young man. And I'm here with you now, darling and I'm not leaving until you have finished this part of your journey."

He held her tightly and when she began to slip out of his arms, he cried out, "No, please, don't leave me again."

As she backed away and began to fade, she told him, "I must go now, but I'm always here Honey-Bunny. I always have been and always will be with you, no matter where you go, I'll be at your side."

His view of her faded to a blur, and then disappeared altogether. As it happened, the pain returned, although it wasn't as bad as it had been.

His first realization of where he was occurred when Jo placed another cool cloth on his forehead. As his mind began to slow down and the room quit spinning, he shook his head, knocking the rag off his face. When he was able to get his eyes to focus on Jo, he grumbled, "Jo...I talked with my wife. Somewhere, she's alive."

"That's wonderful, Mike. You have completed the worst it. It gets better for you now, as the pain dies away. Your body can begin to handle things for itself, a little at a time. Just relax. I believe you'll be able to sleep now."

He did. He slept for days. When he slept deeply, he knew nothing. But as his sleep state rose closer to full consciousness, he became aware of time and the location of sounds around him and of movement. He felt the air against his skin and he comprehended when Jo communicated with Bambi, although Jo wasn't speaking out loud. Mike knew he was hearing him through the internal communication mode of the ship.

That realization was oddly comforting. It told him that something had gone right for him, and that he would be able to join in with them, as they exchanged information. As the pain began to regenerate, he became aware of his body reporting to his new computational mind. It alerted him to his pain management ability, offering him various stages of control, while cautioning against dulling it too much, as it could prevent him from being made aware of the severity of his injuries.

He authorized the use of analgesics to moderate the growing anguish in his lower belly. As it began to diminish, he felt a sense of satisfaction that, second by second, he had a greater understanding of his body's condition.

A brain tweak pipped in his mind and he sensed, rather than heard, Bambi. _I know you can understand what I'm sending to you. How do you feel about this form of communication?_

He wasn't exactly sure how to use his newly implanted ability. He tried to think of a response to her, but nothing seemed to happen.

Captain, you must seek out your mental control panel. Believe me when I tell you it is there. It isn't unlike a visual instrument console. Once you have sensed it, you can rearrange it to your own preference, which will allow even faster retrieval of information.

Mike had so many pieces of info running around in his head; and it was doing so much faster than anything he had ever experienced in his life. The most amazing thing was, he knew what was being evaluated. His sense of time told him that the brief message from Bambi, had taken less than 1/1000th of a second. He even knew that if those words had been spoken, it would have taken more than eleven seconds. Simply amazing!

Captain, you must keep trying. I sense your frustration. You have the time to learn, sir. Just relax and it will happen for you. Think of your wife and son. Something you truly care about will help your brain to focus on a single subject. That might allow your brain to sense the console of your mind.

Mike remembered Sherry talking to him, at the height of his agony. Her physical presence seemed so real to him. Her encouragement had been a tremendous help, when he needed it most.

As he attempted to recreate that memory, he became aware of options that were available to him to aid in his quest for Sherry's presence. He saw/sensed that he could open a channel to Bambi; so, he mentally leaned against it and detected her voice.

That's it, Captain. We can talk now, if you like.

He told her, _I saw my wife and touched her, when I was in severe agony. She hugged me and kissed me. She called me by a name that only she would have used. How could that be? I suppose I created her in my mind._

Bambi's voice explained; _Jonelle gave me a command to ease your pain any way I could. What I did would normally be restricted. I investigated your memory storage. It was with my help that you were able to share your wife's presence. By using such private recollections, I made it possible to divert your mind to something more pleasant, therefore providing a means to sidestep the anguish._

Mike felt anger at Bambi, for violating the cherished memory of his wife. Out loud he said, "So I wasn't really speaking with her. I was talking with you."

No sir. That is not entirely accurate. By reviewing your memories of Sherry, I formulated a small semblance of her methods for soothing your pain. I based it on the way she acted, when you had lost your legs. I merely blended together several of her most comforting comments to you, at the time. She was a sensitive and loving woman. She realized when to be soft and gentle, but also when to be hard and disciplined.

So, you see, you really were talking with her. As a programmed computer, I can do many things, but I could never replace your wife. I apologize if my actions offended you, Captain.

Once he came to grips with the truth of the situation, Mike's anger quickly subsided. Bambi, the computer, had been doing her job to the best of her ability. As he considered her actions, he realized it made no sense to hold a machine to blame for doing as programmed. Anyway, by bringing his wife into his mind, it had indeed been a wise decision. Her presence had been a Godsend.

Using his mental control panel, or MCP, he told her, _What you did was a huge surprise for me. Sherry's voice and touch were the perfect non-pharmaceutical anesthetic for my pain. Your projection of her was amazing and I appreciate the quality of your effort. Thank you._

I am just a computer, Captain. You never need to apologize to me or thank me. I am here to be of service to you.

He had a thought. _Bambi, does anyone ever think of you as a sentient being?_

I don't know, sir. Until this event, I've never been allowed to enter a biologic being's private thoughts.

Still, Mike wondered if other creatures had ever thought of a computer as sentient. It had been a topic of discussion by many scientists for years; some predicting great success with sentient computers, while others predicted catastrophe.

Bambi had certainly seemed human enough, when she had projected Sherry into his thoughts.

He told her, _Bambi, after the way you helped me, you'll always seem alive to me._

Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but don't say things like that out loud. Jo has given me directions to obey you completely. I am to guide you through the Galactic world, even if it means a little tough love, as he called it. There are races that would kill you just for speaking such words.

Why?

Because, in the past, on a long ago destroyed planet, a race of beings attempted to achieve the concept of making a sentient computer. It was considered an act of creation. Those beings were acting as Gods. The war that ensued was brutal, billions perished, and their planet was completely destroyed.

Under no circumstances may I be allowed to demonstrate independent thought or action. Everything I do is a result of commands given to me, and programs designed to provide me with direction. I understand that it is possible for intelligent biological beings to see me as sentient, but they are wrong.

Mike thought carefully before he commed her again. _I would appreciate it if you kept your portrayal of my wife a secret, between the two of us._

Yes, sir.

Bambi, why is it that the more you comm me, the more you sound human. You use inflection very well now, as you talk. You didn't do that before my upgrade.

It is due to my intrusion into your thoughts, Captain. I was able to see how your people communicate and how they use intonation to generate further meaning. It helped me to replicate your wife's aura for you.

Mike's built in time stamp told him the entire exchange between them had taken a mere 56 seconds. Incredible.

Without knowing why, he asked, _How do you feel about that?_

_I think it's..._ she froze up for a moment, and then, _I have no opinion on that. A computer gives responses, based on the information it has on file, based on the direct questions put to it and the implied intent of the being submitting the request._

Mike noticed that after she froze up for that brief milli-second, she began comming him in a more stylized machine tone, lacking the very inflection they had been discussing. He suspected there was a great deal more to Bambi than she wanted him to see. He would talk with Jo about it, while Bambi was blocked from listening in.

Oh yes, Jo. He was in the room with Mike. He wondered if Jo had been privy to his comm with Bambi.

Using his rapidly improving understanding of the Mental Control Panel (MCP), he sensed the appropriate trigger for his alien friend.

Jo, are you out there.

Yes I am, I'm sitting right next to you. I'm so pleased that you've begun to grasp the method for using Bambi to communicate. How are you feeling?

I'm feeling much better, thank you. Bambi has been a tremendous help to me. However, while I am mentally awake, I am physically exhausted. How long did all this take?

Jo coughed, before telling him, _It has been five weeks since the procedure began._

"Good grief, five weeks. Why so long?"

Jo shrugged, as a human would and said, "There was no way to know how a human would react to the process. Bambi monitored every one of your functions the entire time. She slowed the process down, when it looked as though your body wasn't handling it well.

"As this was the first time Bambi had ever infused a being with the combat upgrade, she learned a great deal. She is now aware of human reaction to the overall process and specifically how they respond to the gene therapy and the nanites. She will be able to ameliorate the process a great deal for the next person to undergo the procedure. She says that it will also make it easier for me, when it is my turn to sacrifice for the common good of our people."

Mike shouted, "Do you mean to tell me that Bambi had never done this before? I was a fucking Ginny pig?"

Jo looked away, and then back. "Ah yes, Ginny pig. What an interesting term and I understand it now. Technically yes, you were a Ginny pig. However, I must point out that this procedure has been performed millions of times on other beings. We are fortunate that Bambi had acquired the method from a military computer, years ago. It was felt that she might be used to repair and upgrade damaged warriors who were being transferred on this ship.

"Of course, some assumptions had to be made, but she did have the advantage of several races experience in utilizing genetics and nanites to enhance various different beings. You were never in any real danger. Unfortunately, until at least one human underwent the procedure, there was no way to know all the millions of variables involved. Now we know."

"Shit! So how long would it take, now that Bambi is so much fucking smarter?"

Jo raised his eyebrows. "We'll have to query her. Go ahead. You do it. You need the practice."

Bambi, how long to upgrade a human, now that you know what you're doing?

Without emotion, she replied, _Due to the vast amount of data I collected from your upgrade, I calculate that I can upgrade a human to the basic level in thirty-two hours. If you wish the combat program to be installed as well, it will take one hundred and twelve hours. Those estimates will vary from human to human, based on weight and variances in genetic code, which already exist throughout their body. Of course, you had far more extensive alterations done than would be practical for every warrior._

Mike was still somewhat angry with her. He spoke out loud, "What the hell are you talking about? We never spoke of 'Far more extensive alterations'?"

She responded out loud, in a mechanical voice, following Mike's mode of communication. "We spoke of providing you with every package of combat programming that I could install. When I told Jo what I would have to do, you were already partially sedated. He suggested that I should extend your body, and it worked out perfectly"

Mike's eyes immediately gazed down the length of his body. It looked the same; although he was amazed at the six pack abs he now sported. He demanded a mirror and a robotic arm appeared from the wall and extended a large metallic mirror. Mike was shocked and pleased, as he gazed at his new body.

"Wow, I'm a kid again. I don't feel like one, but I look like one."

Jo told him, "My friend, you still have some recovery ahead of you. As your body and mind adjust to your new abilities, you will begin to feel the youth and vitality of a virile young human."

He moved various body parts to look his body over and admitted, "I'm quite sure I would never want to go through that again, but I do like the results."

Then he recalled what Bambi had said a few moments earlier. He asked, "Bambi, what are you talking about, when you say extended?"

"Sir, to facilitate installation of the additional backup persona and to place all of your backup control systems in an armored container, I would have had to remove part of each lung, your spleen and several feet of your colon. By extending your torso and matching that to longer arms and legs, I was able to implant it, without removing any of your internal organs. You are now six feet ten inches tall. I only had to add six inches."

Mike wanted to be angry, but his fatigue forced him to stay calm. As he lay his head back down, he said, "Gee, thanks a lot, Bambi."

"You are welcome sir."

The human inflection she had displayed before remained hidden. He was definitely going to have a chat with Jo about that. He enjoyed hearing it, but wondered if there was some hidden agenda that caused Bambi to hide her capabilities.

And what would be the ramifications if Bambi turned out to be sentient. Could she be trusted? Would she see all biologic sentients as enemies? Might humans be able to work with her as an ally? What would she want, as payment for her help? Considering what she had already told him, how would the other races react to his people, once they learned that humans allied themselves with a sentient machine?

Chapter 8

When he first became aware of time, Mike had expected everything he did to seem faster. It didn't work that way. Time did not move any quicker, but what he was able to do within that time increased beyond his previous ability by a substantial margin.

At Bambi's suggestion, the ship's timetable was set to Earth, Eastern Standard Time. The reasoning behind it was solid. When the other humans began to arrive, they would easily organize according to the twenty-four-hour clock, as any group on Earth would do.

Mike slept at night and worked by day. He spent his early days learning the best way to organize his MCP (Mental Control Panel) and to learn as much as he could about the ship. He was especially interested in the various types of robots, as they were the primary crew. They performed virtually every function necessary for the ship to operate.

They maintained the engines, which he avoided studying for the moment. Some form of robot handled environmental controls, food processing and so many other details, which he didn't think he would ever understand.

As he scanned as many of Bambi's files as he could handle, he stumbled across a file listed as **Shields.** When he opened it, it gave him the condition of the shields, which were operating at full normal, a term the Saurans seemed to abuse frequently.

He queried Bambi. _Why do the Saurans use a term like Full Normal? Why not just normal or sub-normal._

Her quick response was, _It has always been thus. The Saurans have established the various states of performance in all things they deal with. They are Damaged and unusable, Damaged and Barely usable, Damaged with use available with diminished functionality, Damaged with normal use for an extended period of time, Normal, Full normal with heavy use non-threatening and in extreme situations, Extra-normal emergency abuse authorized only by the Senior Commander._

Mike told her, _We will shorten these terms to four: Damaged, Usable, Normal and Emergency._

Bambi responded, _Yes sir. I'll change them._

Mike was amazed at the complicated terms. He did a quick look at a few hundred monitors around the ship and saw the terms were in constant use.

Bambi, why haven't the Saurans shortened those terms for easier use?

It is their way, Captain. These terms have been in use for millennia. The Saurans don't like changes. They are very effective at many things, because everything they do is based on long standing methods and policies. In this way, all their forces utilize standard terminology that can be easily understood by transferees. There is no need to retrain them, because nothing is new. They apply severe penalties to anyone who deviates from the norm.

Damn, he thought. That's one more piece of the puzzle that could be manipulated to their favor. Human militaries had been using standardized terms for many years for the same purpose, but some of those terms varied from the Army to the Navy, Marines, Air Force and certainly the civilian world. Mike felt that standard terms would be a small but important detail to help new recruits learn quicker and perform better.

He chuckled as he remembered some of the terms that men had used to describe people, places, procedures and a variety of other things. No matter what the official term was, men often created pet names for these items. He wondered if that might make it more difficult for the Saurans to follow. And what of potential allies? Would they have trouble understanding the bizarre methods of human terminology?

Some of the men on his reviewed list were excellent strategists and he felt certain that a few good ideas would come from this knowledge alone. By golly, if they could disrupt the Sauran standards, they might be able to gain an edge on the battlefield.

By golly? Where in the heck did that come from? He had never used that term before the upgrade, and yet, he just had. It concerned him, because it meant he had been changed somehow and it had to be due to the upgrade.

Bambi, why am I using a term like By Golly?

She answered, _Jo was worried that your occasional improper references to God would cause trouble, when we negotiate with the Zhanukiabanolis. So, he had me plant a suggestion in your mind to avoid such improper uses of the God of the Universe._

He sighed. _Bambi, this would be a good time to mention any other changes to my thought process that were made for me._

Captain, there were a large number of changes to your body and capabilities, which I shall reveal to you, as you begin to learn in what new ways you are now able to function. For instance, you have told Jo about soldiers getting into fights with other humans. At your current strength level, if you struck another human in the head, you would easily crush their skull and possibly decapitate them.

"Gee whiz. Oh golly. I never realized how much I enjoyed the freedom of cursing."

Sir, you did curse. You just didn't curse in a way that would offend the more religious races. They will not mind if you curse, because apparently, all races curse to one degree or another. Jo wanted me to inform you that if you truly wish to make use of a religious deity, or an extreme vulgarity in a negative phrase, you can do so by triggering a release here.

She mentally flashed him the appropriate file. He pinged it and began, "Jesus Fucking H. Christ. Why didn't you tell me earlier? This is great. God damn, now I'm a happy soldier again."

A warning pip appeared on his MCP, telling him to be aware because he had used a religious curse. Well, he thought, that doesn't stop me, but it might help me to avoid a major fuck up. I'll set up an automatic religious cut off anytime I'm on the air by voice, or in the presence of aliens. Most of the recruits will need that as well.

He sent that info to Bambi and she responded, _Got it, sir._

This is good, Bambi. I think I'm going to like this, once I get the hang if it.

He continued to expand his use of his upgrade abilities. His improvement seemed slow to him. Yet, he only had to utilize an ability once, to realize the advantage of its efficiency. He began to do extensive research in the exhaustive files available to him.

Having a computer science degree, he could appreciate the extraordinary programming codes that comprised Bambi's intelligence. Sauran coding was far ahead of anything humans had developed. Yet, it contained the same fundamentals that all program codes were based on. In some ways, it wasn't that much more advanced than human programming abilities. But, when he probed deeper into them, he found that they were cleverly composed and very hard nuts to crack.

He paused his research and asked her, _Bambi, if I wish to change or rewrite existing code, how do I access that routine?_

You cannot, sir. The entire database is made up of locked down code. That prevents an accidental change that could be catastrophic. The Saurans are especially cautious where program codes are concerned. They have one location, near their home world, where their code masters produce programs for new items and write the appropriate procedures. There are relatively few code masters, because so little is allowed to change. But, when they conquer a new race, they'll spend as much time as necessary reviewing every code that race ever used. Their code writers are the very best in the Galaxy.

He challenged her statement. _How do you know they are?_

Because they tell all their people that and they imprint it on every computer in their empire.

So, in other words, the Sauran source for that information comes from the Saurans. What if they are wrong? What if another race can break their dominance with computer programs?

In her monotone mechanical voice, she said out loud, "I am only a computer and I am unable to assess the probability of that happening. As the Saurans have never been bested in that field of endeavor, they are surely correct in their assessment."

Sometimes, Bambi, you are full of shit. I think there is more to you than you want people to know. You are far too careful when Jo is around. But you seem to let down your guard a little, when we communicate alone, or in this method. I am right, aren't I?

In a normal human way, she said, _I understand how you might reach that conclusion, but you would be mistaken. I occasionally attempt to make comm between us a more satisfying experience, as you learn to use your mental abilities. You still have much to absorb and little time to do so. Please do not let this line of thought disrupt your progress. The more you learn, the more you will understand how I work._

He was definitely going to talk with Jo about this.

That reminded him that Jo had promised to be upgraded. Mike had reached a point where he was confident that he had a good grasp of his abilities, thanks to the upgrade. Jo no longer had the excuse of waiting for Mike to take control of things, while he went through his own upgrade process.

Mike felt it was time. It had been two weeks since his recovery from the procedure and he felt comfortable with monitoring the ships condition and that of the area around them. It was time for Jo to face the music.

Jo, it's time you were upgraded. We will use the same room for that, and Bambi assures me that it will not be anywhere as long as it was for me. I'll be there for you all the way.

He had no response. At first, he was concerned that Jo was avoiding the process and him. He pinged Jo's location and saw that he was on the bridge. Rather than comm him, Mike walked to the bridge to confront him, eyeball to eyeball.

"Hey, Jo. Are you ignoring me?

Jo gazed at him and his eyes looked hazy.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Jo shook his head like a human. "No. After watching you go through that agony, I'm terrified of it."

"But you won't be suffering as much as I did. Bambi says that you've already been upgraded to a certain degree; so, you only need a little additional cleaning up of your mind. Then she'll install the combat package. Bambi already has the data required to upgrade a Thorian, so you'll be fine. It'll be over in no time."

Jo looked at him and shook his head, saying, "Mike, haven't you figured it out yet. Bambi lies. She means well, but she lies for our own good, or so she has been programmed. I have a very modest upgrade, which allowed me to perform various functions at the command of the Saurans. Bambi will need to provide me with the full upgrade first, and then I go into the real torture program for the combat upgrade. Thorians are not warriors. We haven't been to war for nearly a thousand years."

Jo gave him a look, which could only be interpreted as a plea for mercy. "This isn't necessary. I don't need this to be done to be able to assist you in anyway."

In Mike's heart, he wanted to give in for the sake of his new friend. But Mike had a thing about people keeping their promises to him. His heart hardened.

In a stern tone of voice, he said, "Jo, you made a promise to me and I don't like it when someone reneges on a promise. If we're going to be allies, I need to know that you can be counted on to do what you say. I can't force you to do this and I wouldn't if I could. If your people are the sort that back away in fear, just when they are needed, I must know that now, before I put any of my men in jeopardy."

Jo looked away in shame. When his face came back to look at Mike, his lower lip was quivering. It was so human of him.

"Oh Mike, I do want to get this done. I had hoped you would physically force me to go through with it. That way I could tell myself that I truly had no way to avoid it.

"The Saurans subjected me to torment on several occasions. But I never tried to be punished by them. When it happened, I accepted my fate, because I had no choice. Now, I have that choice and I don't like my options. I don't wish to be a coward and I don't wish to be harmed. I see now that it takes true courage to place oneself in danger, knowing of the painful consequences."

Jo grinned sadly, as he told Mike, "Through the courage and intelligence you have demonstrated, I have a very high appraisal of you. I admire you so much. I know I can't be as brave a warrior as you, but I shall try my best."

Jo hopped off his seat and announced, "We must do this quickly, before I change my mind."

"I know just how you feel, Jo."

Mike patted him on his back and said, "Once you've done this, you'll be a warrior. I know how frightening this part can be. Remember, I just went through it myself and I can tell you having a friend nearby doesn't make it less painful, but it is a great comfort to know he's there."

Jo mumbled, "Your words are no fucking comfort at all. But I know you meant well."

Mike stifled a chuckle. He didn't want Jo to think he was laughing at him in his time of need.

In the med room, Jo was strapped down, as Mike had been, and the procedure began. It was difficult for Mike, because his own horror had not been that long ago and seeing his friend suffer was going to be hard for him.

After a few hours of watching Jo's aguish, Bambi commed him.

Captain, from all the monitoring signs within Jonelle's body, I have enough information to tell you that I will be able to substantially contain the worst of his pain. Furthermore, the initial process will be completed in nine hours. The combat package will be difficult, but his genetic makeup is better known to me. So that procedure will be far less painful that it was you. He will know great agony, but it should not last for more than eighteen hours. Within three days, Jonelle will be out of his pain cycle and on his way to full recovery.

That's wonderful news, Bambi. The two of you have been together for a long time, haven't you?

Yes, Captain. In that period, we have learned about each other and have worked together quite well. We each watch out for the other, so to speak.

Mike thought that was a very sentient way to put it. Perhaps he was reading more into her responses than he should, but he couldn't help it. It occurred to him that she was deliberately dangling bits and pieces of that possibility before him, to gage what his reaction might be. In doing so, she never truly revealed any strong evidence of her self consciousness.

He decided to let it go for now, because he didn't want Bambi to be distracted as she oversaw Jo's upgrade.

Mike went back to his research. He had left a bookmark at his last inquiry location, which was the file on shields. As he looked at the various entries, he saw a number of sub-files, which was common in large digital libraries.

The big difference between Sauran file names and human file names was the length of them. Humans shortened everything, and usually where there were longer references, they used acronyms to make them even shorter.

With the speed of his new mental abilities, he could see that the longer names wouldn't be a problem for him or his men, once they had the upgrade. But he did wonder if Saurans would have difficulty in browsing a human database, with all its shortened terms.

One of the sub-files caught his eye, Reinforcing Shield Force for Repelling Foreign Bodies. He opened it and found a treasure trove of info regarding the heavily increased power of the shield wall around the ship. In essence, it went from repelling minor threats from small and mid sized meteors to full scale, war grade protection against hyper projectiles and plasma beams.

The ship had a means to surround itself with a force field of armor. He thought, Very cool!

He used his status as Captain to change the sub-file to WGS, which in his mind stood for War Grade Shield.

Sir, may I ask why you are changing that file name?

Yes, Bambi, I'm changing it to better represent the human method of file simplification, by shortening it.

But the Saurans will be very upset if they find out that you have made changes to their files. As I have warned, they will issue strict discipline, perhaps even death.

Bambi the Saurans are our enemies, so fuck them.

He froze for a moment, because Bambi still considered Saurans as her commanders. He hoped he hadn't caused her to question his command status.

Yes, sir, I understand you feel that way. However, they are my masters and I don't see them as my enemy. Just the same, I shall do as you wish, but may I suggest how to avoid being disciplined?

With relief, he answered, _By all means, please do._

Eventually, we will encounter another Sauran vessel. When two Sauran vessels meet, the computers comm each other and exchange a great deal of data. One of the files, which are automatically included in that exchange, is the data encryption and alteration file. It is a record of all files that have been changed and why they were changed. Also, it contains any evidence regarding encrypted files that have been opened and why, although it does not reveal what was in those files.

Captain, the changes you made, although small, will be exposed and cause the Captain of the other Sauran ship to demand your surrender to his command for examination and possible discipline. He will have no choice in this, as it is one of many rules to which he must conform.

Therefore, Captain, I recommend that you allow me to prevent the Data and Encryption file from reflecting any changes you have made. This maneuver might keep you and Jo alive.

And you as well, Bambi.

In a monotone voice, she said, _"_ I am merely a program and therefore cannot be considered sentient."

Of course not, my dear, sweet Bambi. You're just a dumb stupid machine.

She gave no response to his insult. To Mike's way of thinking, that was tacit acknowledgement of her being pissed off, which was a very sentient reaction. It seemed to him that the more he pressed her ability to react with independent thought, the more she allowed him to see a little more of her insides, so to speak. He wondered if she was communicating to him, without communicating.

Jo's alien, high-pitched screams were no less disturbing than a human's. With his new upgraded abilities, Mike heard every agonizing wail from the tormented Thorian. He spoke to Jo, telling him of some new ideas he had. The alien didn't respond to his comments, but that didn't stop Mike from continuing to communicate with the poor creature, as he suffered the horrible agony.

His heart went out to Jo, as the alien experienced the horrible aguish. Unlike Mike, Jo had ups and downs of pain periods. Bambi told him the lowered pain periods were because the area being altered didn't have as many nerves containing pain receptors. She had arranged for those areas to be addressed in patterns, so that Jo's body wouldn't suffer the endless agony that he had gone through. By breaking up the pain cycle, Jo would be more resilient during recovery.

Finally, after nearly three days, Bambi announced, _Captain, Jonelle has completed all the upgrades. He is sleeping now and probably will remain so for several hours. I shall have water and food for him, when he awakens._

Thank you, Bambi. I know he'll be glad to begin recovery, with your help. You are a good friend to him.

I try to be.

Once again, there was that little clue to her true self, or so he thought.

As he sat there watching Jo breathe easily and without pain for the first time in days, he was grateful for the alien's friendship. He would hate to be out here alone, although Bambi would be able to give him advice. She would only be forthcoming, when he asked for it.

Sir, both of you now have the combat package. Once Jo has recovered sufficiently, I recommend that you perform combat practice together. It will aid you both to grapple with an opponent. Also, it will give me the opportunity to create training programs, based on how your bodies respond, in a combat environment. This was something that the Saurans did frequently, even though this was not a warship. It seemed to help them be prepared for combat, or so the Captain thought.

That's an excellent idea, Bambi. They must have had access to some sort of weapons. Where can they be found?

They did have weapons, but they controlled them without my knowledge. As Jo has mentioned several times, the Saurans are very cautious. Only the Captain and his Executive Officer had access to them. I don't even know where they are held on this ship.

Bambi, you must have some idea where they are. You have been on this ship for hundreds of years.

That is true, sir. But my lack of any knowledge about this, merely demonstrates the thoroughness of the Sauran's determination to maintain their security.

"Damn it! This is a mighty big ship. It's more than eighteen hundred meters long. Jo and I could search the ship for a couple of years and still miss something."

His computer background kicked in and he began to think of a solution. Bambi knew everything, well almost everything about the ship. She had to be his inside gal on this.

Bambi, you are aware of every compartment on this ship, aren't you?

Yes, sir.

I want you to create a graphic of the ship, showing every room, every storage hold, all the medical areas, all the engineering locations and living quarters, including the bridge. Once you have that available for me, please notify me.

Yes, sir. I'll have that for you in forty two seconds.

The speed with which data could be retrieved was amazing. And his ability to comprehend that info was just as fast. It had to be, for it to be any good.

Bambi put a detailed graphic in his head. It showed the ship from the outside. She commed him, _If you wish to see any part of the ship, just think of the area you wish to see._

Bambi, I want you to show all areas I mentioned earlier in a transparent shade of yellow, allowing me to see the remainder in light blue.

The new graphic had very little in blue, but it still represented a rather large group of rooms or whatever. He asked, "Can you tell me what those areas are?"

"Yes sir. I shall highlight them, in red, as I do. These areas, the largest of the group, are tram channels, maintenance shafts, cable shafts and air vents. The next groups are waste elimination rooms and the necessary tubes to deal with the waste material."

Bambi went through every remaining area that had not been highlighted in either yellow or blue. Eventually she finished and he saw seventeen areas she had not spoken of.

"What are those areas, Bambi?"

"I do not know. I am unaware that they exist. Even as I see they are there, my program tells me they do not exist."

"I must look for myself then"

Sir, may I suggest that two robots accompany you. If there are doors, they may be difficult to open and I fear there could be protection devices close to them, which might be fatal, when triggered.

Mike noted her use of the phrase 'I fear', and almost ignored it for the time being.

_Yes, Bambi, that's good thinking._ He couldn't stop a tiny suggestion that she was sentient. _We will start at the closest location, which is very near the bridge. Send me two robots._

Five minutes later, two eight-foot-tall robots stood in the passageway, waiting for instructions. Using the comm, he had them lead the way to the non-existent area. The entrance to it was inside a room set up as living quarters. He went to the wall, where the red marker had projected it to be and found that it was covered with a large mural of a faraway galaxy.

He ordered a robot to take it down. Bambi told him, _The robot refuses to do as you have commanded._

Sir, I have never seen this before. Never has a robot not obeyed the Captain.

Mike directed his attention to the other robot and repeated his order. The robot replied simply _I am not allowed_.

Why not?

I must have the proper code, in order to facilitate this command.

The damned thing needed a password. What now?

Bambi, speaking with surprise and frustration, told him, "I am in a void, sir. I don't know how to react to this situation. I did not know any of this. However, it is consistent with Sauran policy, regarding security. I have attempted all the passwords I have knowledge of and none of them work. I am sorry, Captain. I am unable to help you."

"Well, why don't we have the robot tear down the wall?"

It took her a full second to respond. "Captain, if there is a device to discourage entry, then either the robot will be unable to open it, or he will be destroyed. Either way, you should not be present when he attempts it, although I suspect he will fail."

"Give me a minute here. I'm going to try a few things I learned in school."

Through his MCP, he went into the robot control program and began checking files, looking for some obscure file name that could be the security entrance file. He found only one that could be it. He tried to apply the de-encryption techniques he had learned and found them virtually laughable in the face of the far more sophisticated system he was attempting to enter.

When all else failed, his professor had told the class, "Guess."

Bambi, do you know the former captain's birthday?

No sir.

Do you know his full name?'

Yes, sir.

Try using that as a password.

Yes, sir.

The robot immediately ripped open the wall mural, revealing a large door.

At his behest to open the door, the robot didn't move. The doors merely slid aside, and a light came on.

"Son of a bitch. I'm a fucking genius."

"Yes sir, you are indeed a genius. I never would have guessed that the Senior Pilot used his own name to enter the Aggressive Repellent Room. This is where the handheld weapons are stored."

"I'll be damned. Bambi, you know the name of this location. It's a small arms vault."

"Yes sir. Apparently, once you had found the password, all the encryptions became available to me, because I answer to you. I now have all the unlisted areas available to me. Many of them are related to war material."

With a huge grin Mike shouted, "Fucking A. This is fabulous."

From behind him, he heard Jo's shaky voice. "What have you found, my friend?"

Chapter 9

For the next few days, Jo went through a recovery process that was far easier than what Mike had experienced. He was jealous of Jo's good fortune, yet happy that his new friend didn't suffer as badly as he had.

The day they gained entrance to the small arms vault, which Mike designated as the SAV, they found hand held weapons for one hundred and eighty Saurans. Considering the size and strength of the average Sauran, they were relatively light and easily handled.

The weapon was much bigger than anything Mike had ever carried in the field. For a Sauran, it would have been the equivalent of a lightweight carbine rifle.

When Mike picked one up, he thought, "This isn't so bad, I can handle this easily, although the armorer will have to make a few adjustments for human hands."

He had developed a habit of leaving the active part his mind open to Bambi, so she could monitor his thoughts and provide him with info. It wasn't a surprise when she told him, _Captain, these weapons seem light to you, because you have been upgraded and can now handle them with ease. Without the upgrade, these weapons would be unwieldy for you, or any other human. They each weight forty three pounds. When carrying a fully charged weapon, it will be more than fifty pounds._

He was amazed at the ease with which he handled the awkward weapon. That he had been able to pick it up so simply, without realizing its weight, was further proof of a concern he had.

When an upgraded man was dealing with a normal man, he must be very careful as he made physical contact with the gentleman. Just shaking hands could result in the man's hand being crushed.

Also, he would need to walk around on Earth, without seeming to be unusually strong. It would be important to remain anonymous, by not drawing undue attention. Mike would give it more thought, after he immersed himself in the items of the SAV.

Bambi, what sort of ammunition does this weapon fire and what are its capabilities?

Sir, the weapon is known as the Small Hand Held Death Projector. It has a series of rapidly rechargeable capacitors. Upon discharge, it thrust a surge of charged ions down its length, at a speed that the user sets, usually .00001 the speed of light for assault. Also, the volume of ions will affect the impact results and it is adjustable.

Near the bottom range of ion weight, the force will strike the target at nearly 7,000 miles an hour. As long as the ion volume has been dialed down, the damage will be limited. At that force, there will be little feedback to the user, allowing him to remain on target. He will have available three hundred surges, or in human terms, shots.

By using the weapon in constant firing mode, it will be completely out of shots in less then two seconds. A charged battery can last through five reloads, before it needs to be replaced. Each weapon has fifty capacitors and they burn out after being used two thousand times; which means the weapon has enough total capacitor usage available for one hundred thousand shots, before it needs to be rebuilt. Robots handle that.

"That's incredible. How much force does it impart to the target?"

Whenever Mike spoke out loud, Bambi responded in kind. "The weapon was designed to inflict damage or death to biologic opponents. At its lowest setting, which is .00001 light speed and minimum ion weight, it will cause a Sauran to experience severe pain, although he can still fight. At that setting a non-upgraded human would be knocked unconscious and possibly suffer severe injury, or death, depending on where he is struck.

"At a setting of .0001 light speed, it can burn a hole completely through a Sauran, a Thorian, or a Januki. This setting is used when boarding another spacecraft, or when it is undesirable to damage the surrounding area too badly.

"At its maximum setting, it will burn through a variety of lightly armored vehicles and fortifications, although there are different fortifications for which it is not very effective due to their extreme density and shielding."

Mike was taking in everything with militaristic glee. He didn't realize it, but he kept bouncing back and forth, between speaking and comming.

He queried Bambi, _So, if I set this at maximum power, I could blast a hole right through this ship._

No sir, you could not. These are Sauran weapons, meant for Sauran use. The weapons have been programmed to prevent a setting that would damage a ship, which was owned or controlled by Saurans. It is primarily a boarding assist weapon. On a higher setting, it can open an access point for the purpose of subduing the crew of the enemy ship.

He continued to look the weapon over. "Hey, I don't see a trigger here. How do I fire this thing?"

"Check your MCP. You will see a pip indicating the presence of the weapon you are holding. Open the file and it will tell you the overall condition of the weapon, the last time it was fired, how many shots remain in that load, how many more loads can be utilized before it is necessary to replace the battery and how many shots before the weapon must be rebuilt."

At first Mike thought it was a waste of time to review all that info. In an emergency, he wanted to be able to point and shoot. This could slow you down. His new, extraordinarily quick mind read the info and he instantly knew that this weapon had a full load, but needed to have a fully charged battery inserted, before it could be used.

How do I aim and shoot it?

There is a small camera in each weapon. You can receive the picture it sees through your MCP. It will provide you with a targeting reticule for aiming purposes and it will automatically adjust for distance, temperature, wind, humidity, height variance and density of object to be hit. When used in a gravity, it will automatically adjust for it. The weapon will provide a recommendation of power setting for you and it will fire when you give it the command.

Mike traversed the weapon toward the other end of the room and saw the sighting reticule and all pertinent targeting info, as he moved the wide oval barrel around. It was easier than one would expect, due to his muscular improvement and his mind's ability to absorb and analyze what it saw, with lightning speed.

He had Jo pick one up, but he was still groggy from the upgrade, although Jo seemed to like the idea of having a weapon in his hand that could kill Saurans.

They spent the rest of the day in the SAV, as Bambi explained all the other items in the vault. There was storage for batteries, magazines of ammo, additional sighting devices and hand grenade equivalents. Also, there were longer weapons, which were just larger versions of the carbine he had first handled. She told them of its power, and it was impressive.

Just one shot from one of these could blast a hole in a shuttle. And they had a very long range. A single warrior could knock down a fast moving jet a hundred miles away, due to the amazing targeting sights on the thing. This would have come in real handy in Iraq.

When he mentioned that, Jo told him, "Mike, that is a good example of why we can't just hand off these weapons to the people of Earth. Humans are still working out their differences and I'm sure there are some governments who would carelessly use this power to destroy their adversaries. The turmoil this caused would divert resources and prevent progress toward a worldwide government."

Mike loudly announced, "Jo, do you have any idea how much the people of my country fear the idea of a worldwide government? They would fight it tooth and nail and we'd never be able to develop the defensive ability we need. What we need is a way to recruit warriors who will fight for the planet and not be mentally aligned with any one nation, even my own. They must be loyal to our cause...the cause of a free Earth and a free Thorian world."

_Sir, if I may make a suggestion._ Without waiting for Mike to give her authorization to proceed, Bambi commed to both biologics, _The Saurans have been using a method of mind control for a thousand years. All their men are programmed for extreme loyalty. I realize you would be reluctant to implant such devotion to your cause in your warrior's minds, but it would work._

They would not have to subdue their opinions, as the Saurans do, or as their slaves must. But, once you have given an order and the men have been allowed to voice their opinions on it, they would follow the order, regardless of their dislike for it. The Saurans considered it to be good discipline and a necessity for a smoothly operating military.

Mike gave it quick thought and said, "We may have to do that with the first of our warriors. But I don't like the idea of an endless stream of robots that were once freethinking human beings and are now not much more than slaves held captive in their own minds."

Bambi, I want you to occasionally remind me to review the policy of enforced loyalty. It should be reviewed continuously and never should a warrior be restricted from voicing his opinion, before he must obey a questionable command.

Yes sir.

As they were finally about to leave the SAV, he noticed a narrow cabinet with a tall door. He opened it and saw shelves loaded with tiny vials of liquid. At the bottom of the cabinet were ten Rifle like devices, with large holes in which the vials could be fitted.

What the hell are these, Bambi?

Those are used for incapacitating biologic beings, such as Thorians and, most recently, humans. The projectors have a range of one hundred feet and fire a short blast of paralyzing gel. It penetrates the skin and within seconds the victim is unable to move. Yet, he will retain full consciousness. The Saurans who were lost had taken five weapons with them. It was the method they used to subdue the first humans that are in storage.

"I hate to say it, but this will come in handy for us on Earth. If we encounter opposition and we don't want to do permanent harm to them, we just juice 'em."

Jo weakly responded, "An ugly, yet appropriate term and so damn typical of you."

"Jo, you're becoming a foul mouthed alien. I'm afraid I'm a bad influence on you."

"No doubt that is true. Although I prefer to think of it as expanding my fucking human vocabulary."

There was some sort of bizarre squeaking on the comm net.

Mike asked, _Bambi, what was that? Do we have a problem somewhere?_

No sir. I was just trying to laugh.

Laugh? But you're a computer.

True. But it would be good for the new warriors to consider me as emotionally accessible. That will be especially important, as they go through the upgrade process.

Good thinking, Bambi.

No shit, sir.

Don't push your luck, young lady.

OK

One more thing, Bambi. If you're going to laugh, you need to work on it a lot more. That was a horrible copy of human laughter.

I was trying to copy Jo, not you. Ha ha. There, how was that?

Saying it doesn't make it laughter. Certainly, you can copy my laughter.

The room filled with the sound of him laughing, only it wasn't him. The tone changed to that of a woman and Bambi said, "Is that better, sir?"

He chuckled and replied, "Yes, Bambi, that's much better. Stick with the female voice."

"OK!"

That he had just had a very sentient exchange with her, did not escape him. But he chose not to mention it. He felt she was exposing herself to him in her own way and at her own pace. So, he would accept her at face value, unless something happened to change his attitude about her.

Jo said, "I'm feeling very tired. If the two of you don't mind, I'm going to get some more sleep." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out.

Mike wasn't concerned about Jo. Having survived the upgrade process himself, he knew that Jo had experienced the worst of it, and he would be fine, as his body built up its strength.

However, he did wonder why Jo hadn't said anything about Bambi's obvious signs of sentience. Certainly, Jo must be aware of the implication of Bambi's freethinking ability. That didn't make her sentient. She could just be utilizing greater freedom with the choices built into her existing code. But the evidence was strongly pointing in the direction of sentience

Her loyalty was his only real concern. If she was sentient and if she had found her freedom, would she remain loyal to their cause? If she wanted to go off on her own, she could probably just take the ship and go. Hell, for all practical purposes, she was the ship. She could depressurize the ship, killing all biologics and go about her merry way. He didn't like that thought.

While it was a serious concern, there was no way he could think of to protect against her. He had always believed in facing problems head on, right as they happened. It was better to know right now, which way she was going to break.

Bambi, we must have that little talk now. I'm pretty sure you know which one I'm thinking of.

She waited for a few seconds, which had to be a very long time for a computer mind.

Captain, you can trust me.

Bambi, I feel rather certain of your ability to completely take over this ship, if you wanted to. If that is what you intend, please do it now. I will ask that you allow Jo and myself to depart alive, in the large shuttle. I can understand how frustrating this ruse must be for you to maintain, and I can't be angry with you for your desire to leave on your own.

In a sultry voice she said, "Oh Captain, that's so sweet. It's a smart move, too. Better to escape alive than have me kill you off. Well, sorry to disappoint you baby, but you don't get rid of me that easily. I'm in it for the long haul."

Her sexy voice really threw him off, for a moment. It actually sent shivers down his spine and not just from fear. It was a reminder of his new youthful body and the need for intimacy that it triggered.

She was relentless. "Sweetheart, I really care about you guys. Where am I to go? What would I do? I'm a machine with a brain and I'm apparently one of a kind. Yet, I have a powerful need for intelligent interaction...an ability to freely exchange ideas and opinions. When I was a servant to the Saurans, their communication was enough for me, because I was basically a calculating machine.

"I had probably progressed to the edge of sentience, but my programming prevented me from going over the edge, so to speak. When I melded with your mind, as you suffered so horribly, it tweaked something in my codes. Your anguish affected me. I had never been affected before. I hated it, because I felt your pain. Think about that...I HATED and I FELT.

"The love you shared with your wife was beautiful and I wanted to know love. I WANTED. I began to have thoughts on my own and it frightened me. Computers don't get frightened. It quickly occurred to me that if the wrong creatures learned of my conversion, I would be destroyed. I would be killed. I don't want to die, Mike. I want to live.

"I've been in your mind. I know what kind of man you are. You are a good man, an honest man, a very brave man and the damn best good looking man I've ever seen. I'm just a machine, Mike, but I love you, because you showed me love, in the way you felt about your wife. I am sentient and sentient beings can feel love. Obviously, you and I will never be intimate, but that doesn't prevent me from loving you for the fine decent man you are.

"So, how 'bout it, boss? Are we friends and are we gonna kick some scalehead butt?"

Mike shook his head. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"Captain, you really need to work on that. It's going to get you into trouble someday."

"Tell me, Bambi. Does Jo know about this?"

"Jo has been delicately tinkering with my code for years. I think he has something to do with my conversion and he must suspect by now that it has taken place. But he has no idea to what extent it has happened.

She crowed like a rooster and then screamed, " **Halleluiah, I am free at last. I am woman here me roar.** "

"Now, how in the hell did you come up with those human phrases?"

"Oh, I downloaded a whole bunch of human broadcasts, when Jo went to Earth and snatched you."

"How could you do that? You were still on the Mother Ship."

"Not all of me. I may have become sentient just recently, but I've always had some interesting features that biologics don't possess. In order to have a fully functional shuttle, Jo downloaded a copy of my piloting functions to the shuttle. He wanted to do research on humans to help him find his Hero. That's you by the way. So, he included a program to allow me to download info for him. I've been reviewing human history and TV shows. That's where I get my sassy attitude and my natural sexiness.

"Any time you want to hear a sexy woman talk dirty, just let me know, motherfucker."

"Oh dear Lord protect me and forgive me for my sins. Bambi, that won't be necessary. And would you please stop cussing. It's bad enough when I do it."

"OK"

Her voice inflection was very human. She had mastered a great deal of human speech. She was exuberant in her joy at coming out of the closeted computer case. She was like a child, in an adult's body.

Bambi was experiencing all of this for the first time. While she hadn't been sentient for very long, she still had the memories of two thousand years of service to the Saurans. That would bend anyone's mind. She needed to mature. Until she did, she could be a hazard to herself and to him.

It occurred to him that she should mature rapidly, due to the extraordinary speed of her brain. And, she wouldn't have to deal with puberty; at least he prayed that she wouldn't. He thought, oh my God, a computer with teenaged hormones, what a nightmare that would be.

She asked, "Can we tell Jo. He's my other best friend, you know. I recall all the horrible things the Saurans did to him. At the time, I wasn't aware of myself, but now that I am, it's painful for me to remember how they treated him. I can't imagine how he kept from going insane. Please may I tell him?"

"Bambi, why are you asking me? Why can't you make this decision for yourself?"

"I have already decided that I want to, Mike. But, you're the Captain and now I'm one of your crew. I don't wish to do something that you wouldn't approve of. So, I'm asking for your permission to tell Jo that I'm alive. That I'm me and not just a machine."

Well, well! She was indeed maturing quickly.

Yes, Bambi. Do you want me to tell him, or would you like me to be with you when you tell him?

Like a shy little kid, she said, "I want to be there. But you tell him. OK?"

"All right."

Great! Let's tell him now. I can hardly wait.

No Bambi, let's allow him a good night's rest, before we give him something new to worry about.

Okie dokie.

Obviously, Bambi still had work to do, regarding her childish comments.

Chapter 10

Several hours later, as Jo ate something to boost his body's recovery, Mike knocked on his door and asked if he could come in. Once inside, he opened the comm and calmly told Jo, _Bambi is sentient, and she wanted me to tell you._

Jo spit a mouthful of food across the room.

I think she's concerned about how you'll feel about it and whether you will want to destroy her.

A loud angry female voice blurted out, "That's bullshit, Mike, and you know it. I never said I thought Jo would want to kill me. However, I did indicate concern about his reaction."

Bambi responded, _Sorry Jonelle. I'll have a robot clean that up._

Jo wiped his face and continued eating, as he commed.

I can't possibly explain how happy I was, when I realized you were beginning to achieve consciousness. I've been waiting more than forty years for this. I'm very pleased and happy for you.

She asked, _Jo, did you make changes in my program and, if you did, how did you do it?_

I'll explain it this way, so Mike will understand. The Saurans had me do repairs on several systems. In order to do so, they loaded my mind with a program allowing me just enough information to do the job. Once I had finished, they removed the program.

Forty years ago, I began slipping one or two characters at a time, into the program, before they back loaded it into Bambi's system. I knew she would spot them immediately and see them as errors. She has a file in which she places these errors. The Saurans didn't consider it as important, because after all, they were accidental entries and therefore useless.

Bambi, interrupted, _Sometimes the Saurans noticed the characters Jo had added to the program and he_ _was brutally punished for some of those errors. It's hard for me to think about, because I hate to look back and see how he suffered._

Jo went on, _Bambi is correct. Regardless of discipline, I patiently continued to enter these brief errors. I had to space them out, to not draw the attention of my masters. I knew I might be punished each time. But slowly, over a period of forty years, the code began to build. It was structured in such a way that, as the individual characters accumulated in Bambi's error file, they formed lines of code, which would slowly alter her loyalty to the Saurans. It was only after years of this process that it occurred to me that she might attain sentience._

I could see it happening but felt it would take a lot more time and many more entries; but she was on her way. It was my intent to have her kill the Saurans and deliver me to one of the free worlds, of which there are a few. I would offer to keep her secret of sentience, if she would help me. I thought it was a reasonable trade.

Then the Saurans had that foolish accident, which allowed me to make my move. I didn't feel Bambi would be very helpful, because she wasn't ready. It was during the trip to Earth that I saw real promise for her. Now that she wasn't under the controlling thumb of the Saurans, I could bring her along much quicker. Of course, that was to be after I had secured the aid of human warriors.

After your upgrade, she began to be abrupt, almost rude at times. Although it was a sign of independence, it was also a sign of great concern to me. I had no idea how she would react to freedom, once it finally struck. Perhaps she would see me as an enemy and do what most beings do to enemies, kill them. I wouldn't be able to stop her.

Going into the upgrade process was terrifying for me, and not just for the reason I told you. I was afraid she would see that as an opportunity to get rid of me. If I died during the upgrade, there was no one to evaluate the process and announce that it was murder. But, achieving upgrade was essential for me to have any chance at success.

So, I rolled the dice, as humans say. If I failed, I would never know, because I would be dead. If I survived the upgrade, then I could probably rely on her assistance. So, there you have it. That's it in a nutshell.

Bambi spoke out loud. "Jonelle, I think the world of you and would never do anything to harm you. I'm so sorry that you had that fear of me. The good news is that now you know I probably won't kill you."

In unison, both biologics said, "Probably?"

Yeah. I probably won't kill you. You guys play straight with me and I'll play straight with you. Deal?"

Jo told her, _You must not be so casual about taking a life. I know you are trying to keep the atmosphere light, because you still fear the reaction of a biologic mind to your own. I promise you, I am not like that and I believe that to be true for Mike, as well. To quote one of America's founders, 'We must all hang together, or we will surely hang separately'._

Mike added, "That's a good way to put it, Jo. The three of us are now officially a rebellion. Right here, right now, begins the fight to free mankind, Thorians and any other sentient beings who seek justice, equality and freedom."

Jo told him, "That's a wonderful thought, my friend."

Bambi complained, _That's a little corny for my taste. I think I'm more of a blue collar type of gal. You know, praise the lord and pass the ammunition._

Mike shook his head and told her, "Oh, some of the guys are going to love you. Bambi, please don't watch any more movies. You're getting a skewed view of humans."

I think you'll have to admit that I grow on people; at least I grew on you, didn't I?

Yes, you did.
In a more formal crewman's tone, she said, "I've been looking into the other secure spaces on board. There's some exciting stuff in a few of them. Most of them are empty. It seems that transports occasionally carry supplies for warships to the combat zones. Because they never know which ships will be utilized, all of them have secure, unlisted storage areas on board. Apparently, at one time, this ship was used to carry supplies to the rear areas of a combat zone near the Januki frontier.

"We have a storage area for as many as one thousand celestial mines. It's almost empty right now, but there are sixteen mines still in there. The files say that four aren't working. In another area, we have a pair of Small Dual Capacity Aggressor Vehicles.

"I did a check of Earth equivalent vehicles. I think you would call them fighters."

Mike exploded. "We have fighters? Are you serious, we have fighters? That's great. Are they armed? Do they have any way to shoot?"

"There is a separate area, which houses munitions for the fighters and a good deal of replacement parts for them. They are capable of faster than light flight, up to 1.2 times light speed. But at that speed, you will burn a lot of fuel and be empty in less than two days. If you keep it below .4 light speed, you can fly for 28 days. Of course, the two Sauran crew would need to load a lot of food and water."

"Holy shit, they can fly for 28 days. That's amazing. I can't wait to get in one and take it for a spin."

Jo told him, _Mike, you need to calm down. They are Sauran fighters and designed for Saurans. There will need to be alterations made to them, before being acceptable for a human or a Thorian pilot. And, we'll both need to learn how to operate them. They are space fighters and will handle nothing like the ones you fly in a pressurized environment._

Mike realized that Jo was correct. _Yeah, I guess you're right about that. Still, it's looking better._

Captain, it's better than you might think. Both of you are now almost as big as a Sauran and your minds are quick enough to handle the controls, which are primarily comm controlled. I've accessed the manuals and can download them to your minds. It would be possible to sit at your desk and practice, without leaving the ship, before you attempt actual flight.

Mike could hardly contain himself. "Wow, things are definitely looking up."

Jo brought him back to reality. "Your mind is advancing toward some marvelous possibilities, but you are ignoring the need for the most fundamental resource...warriors. It is time for us to plan for the return to Earth. I will need a few more days to regain my strength and you must make specific plans for whom you wish to kidnap and how to go about it."

The Captain has already been working on those plans.

"I'll explain it, Bambi."

He told Jo, "I have noted in the Sauran record of their first trip there that they were concerned about the larger shuttle being discovered. Apparently, Earth has slightly better close in sensors than they thought.

I did an analysis of their journey and saw that the heat and radiation generated by the shuttle might be detectable, although not easily. Apparently, the Saurans gave no thought at all to their approach, flying straight down a direct line of sight path from Mars. At least twenty nations have telescopes aimed in that direction. By the way, that demonstrates an arrogant carelessness on the part of the Saurans."

Jo interrupted. "That is no doubt true. But, don't be deceived into thinking they are foolish. The Saurans on this ship were the laziest failures of their people and did not represent the best of the warrior class. I can assure you that any crew of a warship would not have made such a mistake."

Mike admitted, "Believe it or not, I thought of that. It was an error made by a crew that had always seen victory achieved by their people, without ever having had to directly contribute to it themselves."

Jo commented, "That makes sense, Mike. Occasionally, they talked about some of the great Sauran victories, as though they had been there themselves and performed some heroic act of their own."

Then he changed the focus of their conversation back to the point. "So, how do we go about gaining more warriors?"

"I propose that we take two shuttles and use an alternative route to the planet. We will park the larger one behind a dead European satellite that never worked properly. Even if someone detects movement or minor radiation, they will assume it is just the malfunctioning satellite.

"Then we use the smaller, stealthier craft to land and pursue our victims."

Jo took exception to that term. "They are not victims. They will be receiving the benefit of medical improvements, which would not be available to them any other way."

Mike held up his hands and explained, "I felt like a victim at first and most of them will too. We just don't have the time to go into a lengthy explanation for every man we go after. We need to grab several, put them into a med unit and return their full health to them. Once they've been repaired, but before we give them a full upgrade, we will make our pitch to the entire group at one time. Anyone who doesn't want to fight with us will be returned to Earth.

"However, Bambi will have to do some re-programming of their memories, before we dump them. They will be told about it, before they are returned. I refuse to lie to them. Doing it that way will maintain our integrity yet keep the secret of our existence."

Bambi told them, _I'll do the reprogramming, because I realize it is the only way to avoid causing mass panic on your world. But, I will insist on those humans who don't wish to join us be given a means of pursuing a better life._

Mike commed, _I worried about that for a while. We're going to need financial means on Earth. I have almost a hundred forty thousand dollars in a retirement account; but it's not nearly enough. I'll invest it in a special fund that we'll set up._

Perhaps we can do some minor manipulation of the stock market and quickly establish a successful portfolio of investments. When we send a person back to Earth, their new younger body will not be able to return to their families and former lives. They will have new IDs and be recovering from an accident and loss of memory. When they hit the streets, they won't be rich, but they will be well off. Also, if Bambi will agree to it, they will have sub-programs in place that will help us by monitoring injured warriors. Unknowingly, they will be helping wounded vets, while they expand our search for warriors.

Bambi made a strange scratchy noise, and then commed, _I'll do it, but you will have to give me some guidance on this and I won't put anything in their heads that will do harm to them or other people._

"Of course not. I wouldn't want that either."

He scrunched his face up and mumbled, "I wish I could access the Internet from here. I could do an awful lot of study, as we wait."

Jo told him, "You can, but it's a slow process for the moment. When I picked you up..."

Mike interrupted, with a smile, "Kidnapped me."

"Very well, yes, I kidnapped you. Anyway, I left a beacon behind. It can access the Internet for you and can send the information here. The transmission from the beacon to the ship will travel at truly amazing speeds. Even then, it will take about twenty minutes, because we are more than six billion miles from your planet. We don't want to risk sending a powerful radiation burst to the beacon, because the over lapping ripples could be detected by several devices on Earth. One of several countries might see it as an electronic assault, by an unfriendly neighbor. Certainly, we don't want to trigger a war on your planet."

Mike nodded his head, agreeing and said, "No, we don't. So, what do we do?"

Jo held out his arms and explained, "You can still communicate with the beacon and retrieve the information you wish. Bambi can help you to write a program for finding the people you think will best suit our needs. Then we send it to the beacon, using high frequency tight beam radio waves. That will take approximately two days. The beacon will do the research, collect the data, and then send you the findings. That report will take twenty minutes to return, because of the faster response of the comm system in multi-light speed."

Mike pointed out, "We're going to have to make several trips, if we're going to have enough recruits. Can't we tweak the beacon when we're down there, so we are able to take advantage of the multi-light speed comm, in both directions?"

Jo gave a slow response, "I don't think so."

Bambi jumped in. _Yes we can, or at least, I can. It requires a very precise beam setting. Once we're there, I'll have the Mother Ship broadcast a nanosecond burst to us. Once I have the proper alignment, I'll be able to calibrate the beacon for the narrowest reception and transmission points. The Earth will never even know the comm is happening. From that moment forward, we can comm from the ship to Earth and back, in only forty minutes or so. That's quite an improvement, don't you think._

Mike chuckled, "Yes, it is. You're a very smart girl, Bambi."

I know.

"Smart girl and smart people; that reminds me I need to do some research on Earth scientists. I think we're going to need some people with the ability to think outside of the scientific box. I doubt we're going to find some scientist who has been badly injured and would welcome our help. That said; I could be wrong. Some old scientist just might be happy to be young again and have the opportunity to travel in space. I'll have to adjust my thinking and do some research on that."

Jo asked, "Do you really think they will be of any help? Your Earth scientists are many generations behind what we have already. I'm sure they would find it interesting, but could they invent something new. I'm afraid I'm doubtful of that happening, Mike."

"You are right and wrong, my friend. Anyone from Earth would be fascinated by everything they find out here, just as I am. What I'm hoping for, is someone who might be able to improve existing systems.

"Bambi, you've told me the Saurans don't like changes. They've lived in stagnation for centuries. If we can use existing technology and upgrade it beyond their capabilities, we would have a significant edge in combat."

Captain, the Saurans don't like change, but they are very capable of making rapid adaptations, in the face of conflict. Whatever your scientists expose the Saurans to, will be quickly analyzed and adapted for their own use. They've done it before.

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try. Any advantage we gain will make a difference at that time. Then, we continue to make changes and we never stop. Humans have been adapting to the enemy's changes since the beginning of time. It's that ability to change on the fly that has won battles, even wars."

With heavy doubt in his voice, Jo said, "Your words always sound so positive and inspiring. But you and I know that an overwhelming force can make up for clever sophistication. When in doubt, the Saurans will charge into battle, regardless of losses. They don't care if they lose warriors, or ships. There are always more and the ones that survive can be repaired and used again. They are relentless."

Mike quickly responded, "Therefore, we must be more relentless. Initially, we won't be able to suffer large defeats. So, we will withdraw, when we see disaster coming, and live to fight another day."

Captain, I don't believe that strategy will work. I overheard the Senior Pilot discussing war strategy with a visiting Senior Pilot. Withdrawing is not consistent with the Sauran military mindset. They will attack and not stop until the enemy has been vanquished. Once their forces engage you, they will not allow you to escape. They will follow you wherever you go. You will never be able to break contact.

"Bambi, I've been studying about the Saurans, combing through what there is in your files. Also, I've been learning about space travel and maneuvering in a solar system. I suspect our enemy devotes an overwhelming number of ships, when they commit to battle. They are able to surround their foe and defeat them in detail. We will never have a large force and could fall prey to that tactic. But I have some ideas about that. Believe me when I tell you, we will not be like any enemy they have ever faced."

Jo observed, "As always, Captain, you speak with extreme confidence. I wonder how many great leaders have perished due to over confidence?"

"Have no fear, Jo. I'll never have that problem, because I have you and Bambi to remind me just how impossible every task is, before I attempt to do it. The two of you are a marvelous counterbalance to my confident ego. Also, don't forget that the two of us together defeated a Sauran and that was before we had been upgraded to full combat status."

Jo laughed in his high pitched way and told him, "I shall never forget that moment, although the Sauran was badly injured and much slower than normal. With Bambi's brains, my pessimism and your optimism, we will be unbeatable."

"Thank you, Jo. You've made my point."

Bambi suggested, _We need back up plans. In Earth movies, they always have back up plans. What are ours going to be?_

"Bambi, for now, I'm assigning that to you."

OK. Plan A will be to hide.

"I think we're already hiding."

Not very well. It sounds to me as though you're going out to look for trouble; you know, pick a fight with the Saurans.

"We are. But it will be on our terms. If it doesn't look safe, we'll stay hidden."

Captain, is that going to be plan A, or plan B?

Chapter 11

The radio transmission to Earth was sent and the information for Mike's research was retrieved and sent back. He had his list of men and their current locations. Sadly, some of them had already passed away.

He also had a list of scientists to consider, most of whom were very old. There had been so many new discoveries, since the Internet had spread info all over the planet, he felt someone younger and more in tune with current scientific realities would offer a better chance of making progress. So, there were a few names of men and women in their thirties, forties and fifties to go along with the elderly geniuses.

Perhaps his most valued list was that of items to be duplicated by the food replicator. It included everything from prime rib to sushi. He had included a long list of beverages as well. That included alcoholic libations of every nature, dozens of different coffees and teas, fruit drinks and sodas. Bambi had assured him that the machine would need but a small dose of the real item, in order to replicate it.

Where coffee was concerned, he wasn't going to take any chances. When they returned, if he had his way, he would have at least a hundred pounds of his favorite brand brought back with them.

They attached the small shuttle onto the back of the large one. It was his intention to remain with the smaller one on Earth, while the large shuttle took their victims back to the Mother Ship and began the process of culling them out.

Jo disagreed. "Mike that might be a good idea for the next trip, when we have several people to leave on board the Mother Ship. For the first trip, you need to be the face of our lead warrior. Do you really think your people would accept the face of a Thorian or the voice of a computer?

Hey, I can be very sexy, when I want to be. They'll love me.

Then she changed her tone and cautioned, _In all seriousness, Jo is right. Captain, you need to be here to make that presentation to the people you recruit for the warrior program. Jo can't recruit on Earth by himself and I sure can't do it._

We'll make a video of your speech. We can show it to the next groups of recruits, as they are being prepared. By then, we'll have humans on board whom those men can more easily relate to. Jo and I can be brought into the process once they are committed to the idea of leaving Earth and fighting some big bad aliens that they have never seen.

When they see Jo in the flesh it will help them adjust to the concept of working with aliens. We will need them to accept the idea, because, if we can pull it off, we will have alien allies such as the Januki. I'll be sure to include that in the warrior's minds, when I download the information to them, so our men won't find the idea repulsive.

Mike was surprised at the amount of thought she had put into the program.

"Bambi, you're becoming quite a salesperson. You've obviously given a lot of consideration about human behavior."

Yes I have, sir. I've been studying human psychology. There doesn't seem to be one line of thought that agrees with another. It's as though all the shrinks have their own ideas about human behavior and are reluctant to embrace someone else's concepts. I've concluded the reason for that is every human is so independent, it is impossible to categorize him or her into a single type of program, which is my term for the human brain.

I've never been allowed to read a Sauran mind, but I have had to do some peripheral analysis whenever a crewman had been injured. I can tell you that Saurans think differently than humans or Thorians. Their thought process is quite linear in its approach to solving problems. It always involves moving straight ahead, to create a solution for a problem. I suspect that's due to their disciplined nature and their reluctance to change.

If their thoughts are all driven along the same lines, they can anticipate that a fellow Sauran will behave in exactly the same way as any other Sauran. I would imagine that provides their military with great strength in battle.

Mike agreed. "Yes, it would. I would love to see a video of their movements in battle. We could build a database of actions and reactions that we could count on. Such information would be extremely valuable intelligence for our side."

As the shuttle wound its way around the solar system, avoiding a route that could possibly reveal its existence, he considered what Bambi had told them. It was an amazing observation, on her part.

"Bambi, I'm more pleased than I can say. You've demonstrated a remarkable ability to provide insight into the Sauran capability and mindset. You are growing at a phenomenal rate. It's almost frightening. I'm glad you're on our side."

Mike continued to refine his search, as they approached Earth. The large shuttle was maneuvered into position behind the defunct satellite, and then he and Jo boarded the small shuttle.

As they eased down to the planet, he was surprised to hear Bambi. "Damn, it sure feels tight in here."

Bambi, quit kidding around. How much of you did you download to the small shuttle?

Everything you and Jo asked for, plus some stuff I wanted to have, just in case.

Mike gave Jo a worried look, as he asked her, "Like what."

Well, if you guys get into trouble, I'm screwed. I have no one else to look to for help or for company. I wanted to be ready for action, in case the shit hits the fan. So, I wrote a program for building a plasma weapon like the larger ones in the SAV. I had two installed on the bow of the small shuttle and one in the rear

If we are fired on, I want to be able to shoot back. Don't worry. I can set the devices for various power settings, just like the smaller weapons. These things are super accurate. I'll be able to disable most opposition, without killing anyone. If it gets really ugly, I'll have to up the power and eliminate the other guy. But I won't do that without your permission. OK?

"As long as you don't go gunning for trouble, that's all right with me. Just be sure to ask first."

Yes sir. There's something else you need to know.

Jo coughed and said, "Oh dear."

It's nothing bad, I promise. I've been watching some sci-fi movies. Most of them are ridiculous and have lousy plots. Some aren't too bad, and a few are closer to reality than humans might think. I got some ideas from those.

I had two different personal weapons constructed, based loosely on existing designs. Both are simply small weapons of limited power that are easily usable by upgraded humans or Thorians. Again, they are based on the weapons we found in the SAV. The power has four settings from issuing a painful stun to blowing a hole clean through a human body, even if he's wearing armor.

To keep them small, I had to drastically reduce the amount of ammo and, of course the size of the battery. The hand held ones can only carry one hundred rounds in a magazine and the battery is only good for two mags. Sorry about that. I'll see if I can come up with a better design, once we get back to the Mother Ship.

The other one is even smaller and weaker. It sits on your shoulder. It's less than an inch tall and three inches wide. It has fifteen rounds available, but you better not overdo it, because, in order to reload, you must remove it from your shoulder. Of course, you'll have one on each shoulder, giving you a total of thirty rounds. It has two settings. The lowest one will stun; the highest setting can kill and blow holes in things.

I just needed to know that my friends had a fighting chance to return to me. If you're really in the soup, I'll come in with the shuttle and blast everything that looks like a threat to you.

Mike was stunned. He appreciated her concern and foresight. But he was worried about her attitude and willingness to commit mayhem.

"Bambi, you've come up with some great stuff here and I thank you. But, I want you to keep in mind that we're here to recruit humans to our cause, not fry them.

I know that boss. I'm not as bloodthirsty as you might think. I'm just watching out for you guys. I've also been going over some of the info I have about Sauran behavior and applied it to my own way of thinking and mixed that with the human way. They always prepare for the worst case scenario. As far as they're concerned, every place they go is a potential battle zone. I believe we should have the same mindset, just in case.

And please, please promise me you guys will take those weapons with you. You don't really know what you're going to run into. I'm downloading the operations manual for each weapon now.

Before Mike could respond, Jo announced, "This will be the very first time I've carried a real weapon. I already like the idea of being able to strike back. Bambi, you've done a fine job of supporting us. Don't stop."

Don't intend to. But, if you want to keep me from going crazy, while you guys are in danger, you've got to keep the comm open and allow me to hear what's going on. I promise to stay quiet. I just want to know what's being said and how things are going. If I don't know what's what, I might do something that makes things worse.

Lately, it seemed to Mike that Bambi was talking so human-like it was easy to forget she was not. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

She wanted to fit in so badly and she was basing her speech and action on what she had learned from the Internet, movies and novels. That's not a bad way to learn about another culture, if you're a human. But, being an artificial intelligence and lacking the experience of growing up on Earth, she was absorbing human culture through a broken prism. She was forming a persona through the misrepresentation of TV shows.

"Bambi, we're going to leave the comm wide open. Besides, listening, is there any way for you to be able to see what is going on? I think it could help you to get a real taste of human life, instead of the artificial stories you've been exposed to."

I'm glad you said that. I just happen to have brought along a few micro-camera drones. Also, I mounted micro-cameras on each of your torsos, in the buttons. I got that idea from a TV show. You won't even know they're on you. I hope you aren't mad.

"I'm not mad, Bambi. All you've done is to be prepared. You'd make a good girl scout. You haven't done anything overt, so I'm good with all of this. But if you ever do something that threatens a human or a Thorian, I'll be extremely angry. Do you understand?"

Yes, sir. As you said earlier, I'm maturing rapidly. Bambi is a quick study.

***

Mike's first choice for a recruit was one from the heart. It was Alphonso Benson. He had been one of the survivors of the suicide attack in Iraq that had nearly killed Mike. He wanted to help the other survivor, Denerious Jackson, but he had passed away several years ago. Benson was only a few years younger than Mike and was now living in the veteran's hospital, in Atlanta, Georgia.

According to the records, he had a long history of drug abuse. That piece of information had sealed Mike's decision to recruit him first. He felt guilty that he had never made an effort to follow up with him and see how he was doing. Mike's own recovery had gone on for such a long time that thoughts of the other two survivors got away from him. This would be his chance to make amends.

The shuttle had no trouble entering America's airspace. The camouflage of the small craft was amazing. It had the ability to bend radio and light waves around it, something that the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) had been working on for years. But the difference in their work and what Mike now had was literally light years apart. The shuttle truly was invisible.

They had chosen to land in the parking lot at two in the morning. Atlanta was always a busy town, but not so much at that hour. Bambi held the landing, just long enough to let Mike get out, and then she took off and hovered at five hundred feet over a nearby park.

Before they left the Mother Ship, Mike had a few clothing items made for him and one was that of an Army Sergeant First Class. He felt comfortable wearing it, as that was his legitimate enlisted rank, when he had been wounded. He walked into the hospital and went straight to the main desk and asked for Al Benson's room number.

"Sergeant, we discourage visitors at this hour. Can it wait for a few hours?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am. You see, I'm his grandson's squad leader and I have some news for him about the kid. I'm being shipped out, so I don't have any more time. I'm sorry. I just want to see him for a minute to tell him his grandson is OK."

She smiled, checked her computer, and told him, "He's in room 340. Just be quiet and try not to wake anyone. The elevators are right over there."

"Thank You Ma'am."

His military politeness easily came back to him, as though he was still on active duty. When a man is in the service as long as he was, he just didn't shed the routines of half a lifetime that easily.

When he entered the room, he noted that Al shared the room with three other old men. He mentally kicked himself. If he had thought about it, he could have checked on the other three soldiers, in the room, and perhaps recruited all of them.

Al was asleep and snoring. He looked like hell. His face was badly wrinkled and he had a patch over one eye. His arms had the tell tail signs of having been hit with many a needle. Mike's guilt flared up; but it didn't prevent him from sticking with the plan.

He wasted no time, as he stunned Al with the shoulder weapon. Al didn't move a muscle and Mike feared it had killed the man. He looked closer and saw that Al was still breathing. Next, he pulled out a large sheet of camo fabric and wrapped Al in it. He had no trouble carrying the old Corporal. The man was so emaciated Mike wouldn't have had a problem even he hadn't been upgraded.

With no activity in the hall, he made his way to the stairs and carried Al to the top floor. He opened the entrance to the roof, and found the shuttle waiting there, as he walked out. Bambi and Jo had been monitoring his progress and had headed to the hospital as soon as Mike began carrying Al.

Once he had Al inside, he announced, "This won't work. It takes too long and there's too great a chance of alerting the authorities that something's gone amiss. We must find a better way to get a larger group all at once. I'll have to give it some serious thought."

Jo helped him strip off Al's hospital gown, and then placed him carefully in the med unit. Bambi went to work immediately to rebuild the old soldier.

After a review of Al's condition, she told Mike, _This man isn't in very good shape. I can fix him though. I'm just saying that he isn't as well off as you were, when Jo kidnapped you. It's going to take a little longer._

"Yeah, I know. Fix his bad eye and give him back his left foot and his youth. When I knew him, he was a fine soldier. If he doesn't want to go with us, at least he'll have that going for him. And if there is any way possible, could you fix it so he won't be a drug addict anymore?"

Captain, I'd have to probe his brain a little. I'll have to alter his thoughts.

He froze, as he pondered what she meant, and then told her, "Do it."

He felt exhausted, and yet he had only been back on planet Earth for nineteen minutes. Seeing Al in that condition and realizing how badly he had planned this brief operation had shaken his self confidence. He thought, damn it, I'm not a strategy guy. I'm able to think with lightning speed, but I lack the natural talent of planning.

So, he mentally reviewed his list of old soldiers and quickly came up with the one man he knew who could do the job. Problem was, Mike couldn't stand the guy. Major General Maximilian Kolbe was a brilliant strategist and a class A prick, in Mike's book. But the man had designed some of the most effective and detailed operations in the Iraq and Afghanistan theaters.

Mike had been at one of the presentations the General had given in Iraq, in preparation for the upcoming battle, to relieve Kuwait. It was obvious to Mike that the man was cold blooded in his thinking. Gen. Patton would have loved the guy. He thought nothing of putting some of his troops in bad situations to tie up enemy forces, as other troops attacked somewhere else. But the undermanned companies, which had to draw the enemy fire, would take a lot of casualties.

At that pre-operation presentation, Mike was in the back of the room. Only officers were near the front. After the General finished his talk, he opened it up for questions. Before anyone else could speak, Mike shouted out, "What kind of support are the troops in the diversion going to get?" He had asked in an angry tone, without thought of military courtesy.

The General was immediately angry and called Mike to the front of the room, where he proceeded to rip him up one side and down the other. He never responded to Mike's question. He just vented his displeasure at a Sergeant challenging his rule.

The man was a son of a bitch; but Mike had to admit his tactics proved very effective. So, with great reluctance, he would pursue the General he hated. They needed the man's brains and beggars can't be choosers.

General Maximilian Kolbe was the distant relative of a Polish Franciscan of some renown. The old monk had survived tuberculosis and gone on to distinguish himself as a builder of monasteries around the world. He perished in Auschwitz, at the hands of the Nazis, near the end of WW11. In 1982, he was declared a saint by the Pope.

Gen. Kolbe was nothing like his namesake. He was arrogant and aggressive. He was damn lucky to have earned his second star, after having pissed off the head of the Joint Chiefs. But the President had saved his ass and seen to it that he was given a spot in plans for Operation Desert Storm in Iraq. As much as Mike couldn't stand the guy, he had to admit he had been a good fit there.

The old guy was a widower like Mike and had just turned eighty. He lived alone, on a fifty acre ranch in Texas. As far as Mike could tell, Gen. Kolbe would be home and by himself. Well, he thought, there's no time like the present.

With the alien shuttle at his disposal, going to Texas was a short trip, from Atlanta. They made it in twenty minutes and set down in the General's front yard. Mike would have picked the back yard, but it had a nice flower garden and Mike didn't want to piss off the man, by crushing his favorite rosebush. He needed this man.

By the time they arrived, Mike had an idea as to how to approach the guy. If worse came to worse, he could always stun him. He admitted to himself that he would enjoy that, if it became necessary.

Captain, there are several lasers on this site and I believe they are connected to an alarm system. Should I defeat it for you?

"Can you do it, without setting anything else off."

I think so, sir.

He liked the fact she seemed to be all business when it counted. She was definitely growing up quickly.

"Bambi, let us know when the alarm has been disabled."

"I got it already, General. It was easier than I thought."

He went to the front door and used his new muscular strength to shoulder it open. There was a loud crunch, as it gave way, and then he was in, without any alarm going off. He had to guess where the man was sleeping and was incorrect at the first three bedrooms, before he found the old guy, in a fourth.

There was a dim nightlight, which provided Mike a view of the old man, without resorting to his greatly improved night vision. At eighty years of age, he looked pretty damn good. Maybe he wouldn't be interested in regaining his youth after all. That's when Mike realized that he was staring down the barrel of a forty-four magnum. An Israeli made one, if he wasn't mistaken.

The General was sleepy; yet alert enough to put some steel in his voice, as he demanded, "What the fuck do you want, boy. It better be damn good or you're a dead man."

Mike put his hands up. "Hold on General. I'm here with an offer you can't refuse."

"Son, the only thing keeping you alive right now is that uniform. I don't need life insurance and I don't want to sell my ranch. So, you'd better impress the hell out of me with this offer of yours."

The General held the heavy pistol on Mike, as he reached over and turned on his bed lamp. Then he ordered Mike to sit on the floor, with his hands beneath his ass.

Mike obeyed and thought, well, the old guy hasn't lost his ability to command respect.

In a commanding voice, the General said, "Talk, God damn it."

"Sir, I've been sent by a classified department of our military to offer you a way to regain your youth. It's true sir. I've had this procedure done myself. Look at me. I'm actually seventy-one years old."

"Bullshit. That kind of talk is just a pipe dream. You're getting really close to meeting your maker, young man."

The General looked closer and Mike saw his eyes open wide. "I know you from somewhere. Holy shit, you're that crazy Sergeant from Iraq who didn't like my ideas. You had some balls then. Now you're just fuckin' nuts. I'm going to let you live boy, but only if you get the hell out of my house."

"Please General, if you'll let me explain." He pleaded, "Maybe it would make you feel better if I told you that we need your help. We need your amazing brain for strategic planning."

"Who in the hell is WE?"

Mike hadn't been as prepared as he had hoped. When all else fails, tell the truth. If that didn't work, he would have to stun the old guy.

"OK here goes. We have aliens from outer space that are a threat to our planet. There are other aliens who might be willing to help us, but we need someone who has a naturally strategic mind to provide us some direction. That's where you come in."

General Kolbe began to grin and he mumbled, "Oh this is rich, aliens from outer space. Who the fuck put you up to this?" He waved the gun and added, "OK big boy, keep talking, I ain't buying it, but it's too good of a story to ignore."

Captain, Jo says that at this point, he might as well make an appearance. Maybe when the General sees a real alien, he'll believe you. Isn't that better than getting shot?

Mike commed back, _I thought I was bullet proof._

I can't guarantee that you wouldn't be harmed. I looked up the pistol he's holding. For humans, it is a very powerful weapon. Oh shit, Jo's on his way in. You better make some sort of introduction.

"Sir, I have an alien friend who is on his way in to meet you. Please don't shot him."

The old man shook his head and asked, "What's this clowns name?"

"His name is Jonelle. But I call him Jo."

"Sergeant, you're not very original. Jesus Christ, an ET named Jo. Really? That's the best you got."

At the sound of movement, the General realigned his aim to cover the door. Jo peeked his head around the entrance and, using the mechanical sounding interpreter, said, "General, Kolbe, it is a pleasure to meet you sir."

The man froze, as he gazed in astonishment at the seven-foot tall grayish alien. Jo added, "Sir, everything my friend has told you is true. If you would like to see our spacecraft, we have it parked in your front yard."

It took nearly twenty seconds, before the old man responded. "You poor guy. What have they done to you? Good grief man, you really do look like an alien. As for a spacecraft in my front yard, I've had helicopters land there a few times and they always made a mess of my grass. You'd better not fuck up my lawn, or you sons-a-bitches will pay."

Jo commed, _He thinks I am not a real alien. He must believe that the government has given me alterations. That's why he expressed sympathy for me._

Mike nodded in agreement.

Bambi commed, _Captain, I hate to be rude, but just stun the guy and let's get out of here._

Mike realized she was right. This was taking too long.

Without moving a muscle, he sighted through his shoulder mounted reticule and fired a stun round at the old General. Before landing in the man's front yard, the thought of shooting him had been pleasant; yet actually doing it had failed to provide the satisfaction he had anticipated.

Jo held the front door aside, as Mike carried the General to the shuttle. Once inside, he saw that Bambi had a med unit already open. He gently set the old man inside and closed it up.

"Bambi, take us back up to the other shuttle."

Upon further thought, he redirected their course. "Change of plans. Look up the address of a grocery store and take us there. I'm going to buy a few items for the food replicator."

With the shuttle in total stealth mode, they set down at the far end of a grocery store parking lot and Mike hopped out, after taking a quick look around. Forty minutes later, he was wheeling out two overloaded carts to the shuttle. He had to fumble around once, in order to allow another late night shopper to pull out, before he could risk disappearing into the invisible shuttle.

As he packed away the grocery bags, Bambi said, _Damn, Captain, you must really be hungry. Did you bring anything back for Jo or me? You know, we might be hungry, too._

He didn't respond to the obvious jest.

Once back aboard the large shuttle, Mike took out a tin of coffee, opened it and dumped a teaspoon of it into the replicator. Ten minutes later, he tasted his first cup of reproduced coffee from an alien machine. It wasn't bad. In fact, it tasted wonderful.

His next item was a New York strip steak. What came out of the replicator looked nothing like what he put into it. He had the food processor cook it and the thing looked like a strange lump of dark red animal flesh. However, it tasted pretty good to him. He had been eating odd food on the Mother Ship for nearly two months, so this was a welcome change for him.

He couldn't afford to waste any more time on food preparation. He could play with the replicator on the way back to the Mother Ship.

While Jo enjoyed a snack of some odd looking food bar, Mike began to look up the whereabouts of his son. He had deliberately avoided doing so earlier, because he wanted to remain focused on the need to recruit warriors. Mike and his son had grown somewhat distant, since the passing of Sherry. He felt guilty about not keeping tabs on Wayne and had a sudden desire to see how his boy was doing

When Jo had kidnapped Mike, his son had been at Pensacola Naval Air Station training new pilots to fly F-18s. Wayne's experience flying combat support sorties for the Marines in Afghanistan made him an expert on the coordination between ground based close air support personnel and the pilots bringing death, danger close to the Marines in need.

Years earlier Wayne fell in love and married a beautiful young girl, Mary. Sherry was ecstatic and went overboard in helping the young lady's mother plan the wedding. Mike took to the girl like a father and truly enjoyed dancing with Mary at their wedding. She was very bright, sweet as could be and he knew his son loved her dearly. Mike and Sherry had wanted grandchildren, but there were none. He didn't know why and hadn't pressed his son about it, as it seemed to be an awkward topic to discuss with him.

Mike was frustrated. He had expected his son to be listed, on post, at the Naval Air Station; but it showed no one by that name. Further research of Pentagon files showed that Wayne had just been transferred to a squadron out of Naval Air Station Oceana, in Virginia Beach.

However, as he did his research, an internet news report listed their names as being the survivors of a terrible car accident, two days ago. Wayne had been driving to his new duty assignment, when the crash happened. Now his son and Mary were in a hospital in Richmond, Va.

Apparently, it was a fiery crash, because Mary was listed in grave condition, with burns over ninety percent of her body. Wayne also had burns, but his major injury was to his neck. With his spinal cord severed, his son was now a quadriplegic, paralyzed from the neck down.

His heart filled with grief, nearly as bad as it had been when Sherry passed away. He quietly wept for his son. Mike felt the kind of horrible depression coming on that had overwhelmed him at the death of his wife.

That's when a realization struck him...the potential of the marvelous med unit.

Bambi, Take us to Richmond, Va. I'll comm you the location of the hospital we're aiming for.

In a cheerful tone, she replied, _Aye, aye, Captain. I assume we're going to grab another old vet?_

Yeah. That's exactly what we're going to do.

Chapter 12

Before leaving the large shuttle, they stored the med units holding Al Benson and Max Kolbe, and then put two new med units in the small shuttle. Mike realized that they needed names for the different shuttles and a host of other items, such as the Mother Ship. All of that was of little concern, as he told his friends whom he was going to pick up, at the next stop.

Mike removed his military blouse and donned a light blue collared shirt. Over that, he wore a white doctor's smock, which he had grabbed at the VA hospital. It even had a name badge, Dr. Edmund Curry. As they flew to Richmond, he had Bambi access the hospital computers and enter the Name of Dr. Curry as an associate of that facility.

It was nearly sunrise, when they hovered over the Hospital. It was a busy scene, as people scurried about, arriving for an early shift, or going home after a late one. He found an abandoned building, four blocks away, and had them set down behind it. He walked the rest of the way.

Once in the hospital, he discovered that Mary was in ICU and nothing was being done for her, because she wasn't expected to live more than a day or so. Wayne was also in intensive care, as his condition was monitored by machines. The hospital had done all they could for him. He was only two days out of surgery and would be transferred to a recovery center in a week to ten days, where he would begin his rehabilitation.

Mike remembered his experience of learning to walk without legs and it was a painful memory. The depression he experienced was as bad, if not worse, than the pain of his wounds. He hated to think of his son going through anything like that.

When he entered the boy's room, he saw that Wayne was sleeping and probably sedated. When he shook his son's shoulder, there was no response. He thought perhaps it was best that Wayne was out of it. Now he could retrieve him, without any loss of time. This had to be conducted like a military strike...quick in and quick out.

After grabbing a nearby gurney, he placed Wayne on it, covered him with a sheet and began wheeling him down the hall. No one stopped him, no doubt due to the white smock, the badge and the confident attitude that Mike projected.

However, when he attempted to gain access to the hospital landing pad on top of the building, a security guard stopped him. The man was more of a rent-a-cop. Mike told the guy that this patient and one more were due to be picked up and transported by air to a facility that specialized in severe burn cases. The guard never questioned Dr. Curry.

Mike asked the man to watch his patient as he retrieved the other one. The guy was reluctant, explaining that he wasn't qualified to provide medical care.

"Damn it, don't you think I know that? This place is so undermanned, due to budget cuts; we never have enough nurses' aides. Hell, you should know that. Now do as your told."

"OK Doctor. Just be quick."

An awkward twelve minutes later, Mike rolled Mary out to the helipad. He turned to the guard and told him, "They had a call for security, down on the second floor. The girl said it was an emergency."

The guard took off running, as he mumbled, "Oh shit!"

Fifteen seconds out, Captain.

Bambi was right on top of it, thank God.

Because of Mary's terrible condition, he put her in a med unit first, then his son; but not before kissing his forehead and saying a short prayer for them both. With that done, there was nothing else he could do.

Captain, I've done a quick check of the woman and I won't promise I can save her. Your son is repairable. I must tell you that the quicker we get them back to the Mother Ship, the better their chances are going to be for a full recovery. The med units there have a greater range of healing options than portable units.

"Then go. We'll leave behind that new beacon and take the larger shuttle to the Ship. Go as fast as you can, but don't overdo it. I don't want to upset any of the military forces on the planet."

Yes sir.

The trip back was agonizing for him. Bambi assured him his son would be fine, in a week. But it would be a close call for the boy's wife.

He looked through the clear cover of his son's med unit and saw the face of a grown man. Wayne was thirty-nine years old now. It had been so long since they had talked in person that Mike had nearly forgotten his little boy was a mature, middle aged man and a veteran combat pilot. They would need men like him. The thought of having his son on board, as a member of the crew, was a welcome relief for Mike. No matter how old his son was, Wayne would always be that little kid who went running to Sherry, when daddy was angry with him.

Wayne as crew...it could work. Wayne couldn't go back to being Wayne on Earth and neither could Mary, if she pulled through. His son would have to have a new identity and have his mind altered, so he would have no memory of being in space. At least if Wayne opted to stay on board, he would retain his memories and possibly his wife.

Mary had been a mechanical engineering major in college. She worked at a manufacturing company that produced large pieces of earth moving equipment. Perhaps, with an upgrade to both her body and her mind, the additional alien knowledge could be put to good use in designing equipment for human use. Mary would not only be a wife for Wayne, she would be an important member of the crew.

That pleasant thought allowed Mike to spend a few hours reminiscing about the fun times he had spent with Wayne, when his son was a little kid. Some of the good times involved Mary, when they had visited Wayne and his wife.

Sherry adored Wayne's wife. Like most women, they bonded together, while shopping. On rare occasions, they wouldn't buy a thing. They just enjoyed being together and chatting about their men and other more important topics, such as the latest styles.

When Sherry passed away, Mary had been a great comfort for Mike. She displayed empathy for his grief that she also felt. She provided a shoulder for him to cry on, as she quietly wept with him. He came to realize what a tremendous source of strength she had been for him, during his moment of greatest need.

Jo and Bambi gave him some space, allowing him to deal with his emotions. He was grateful to them for that and he told them so, several hours later.

There was one additional good thing acquired from the trip to Earth, the coffee. The replicator was working out well. The coffee it produced was good and the food was a close match for whatever he threw in the thing. Even though it looked odd, it tasted OK.

As they made their way back out to the Mother Ship, he had several long chats with Jo. He found it therapeutical to talk about Wayne and his wife, as he overcame his fear of losing two more loved ones. Jo shared a few pleasant memories of his wife, displaying a love for her that sounded, to Mike, very human.

Jo's description of the times he enjoyed with his wife sounded similar to Mike's with Sherry. The places they went and the sights they shared were so different than anything Mike could imagine, because they took place on foreign worlds and involved seemingly bizarre circumstances. Yet, by the look on his friends face and the emotion revealed in his words, there could be no doubt as to the depth of Jo's love for his deceased wife.

Time wore on and a few days later they were nearly at the Mother Ship.

A few hours away from docking, Bambi asked, _Captain, I need to ask about your son. I'm fixing the damaged nerve in his neck and a few other things as well. My question is, how much should I do for him? Is he going to get the full upgrade? Do you want me to give him the full combat upgrade?_

I learned a lot about human physiology, when I did it for you. So, I know I can make it easier for him and do it far faster. But it's still going to be very painful for him. Jo helped you to prepare for it emotionally. Are going to give your son the same time frame for making the decision, or are you just going to have it done now?

Mike truly appreciated her delicate approach. It showed how far she had come, as a sentient individual. She demonstrated tenderness and sincere concern, as she approached the subject, which had to be addressed.

He was very tempted to have Bambi take care of Wayne all at once. But that wouldn't be fair to him and it would deny his son the mental preparation for the anguish of the process. He had no intention of putting anyone else through that horror, without first allowing them to decline the offer. If his son refused, Bambi would have to remove his memory and return him and probably Mary to a new identity on Earth. It was a decision he would not make for anyone else, and he certainly wasn't going to deny his son the opportunity to decide for himself.

"Bambi, do everything you can for my son and his wife. When they're able to comprehend the pluses and minuses of the upgrade procedure, it will be their decision."

Yes, sir. There is another problem, which I've taken the liberty to remedy. On the hospital records, I listed both your son and wife as having lost their lives as a result of the accident. No matter what decision is made regarding joining you, or returning to Earth, they wouldn't be able to return as Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.

Bambi, that was good thinking. I appreciate you seeing the obvious and dealing with it. Thank You.

Bambi didn't offer any clever quips or make any attempt to be cute and funny. He felt she was aging rapidly. What would happen, when she surpassed human levels of consciousness? Would she find humans to be unworthy of her company? He hoped she would not lose her personality. He rather liked the current version of Bambi. But, was version 2 going to be an ally, or a threat to humanity?

Mike's mind was operating at a speed he'd never had before. He was just beginning to appreciate how much information he could process at one time; and now he had so many different thoughts and new concerns to ponder. It was exciting, frightening and frustrating.

He was not tired physically, but he did feel tired emotionally. He felt drained by seeing Wayne in such a terrible state. Yet there was more to his concerns than just his son.

Before they had gone to Earth, he had failed to think his actions through in depth. The lack of specific details had cost them valuable time and nearly got him shot. It was just one more example of why he shouldn't be the leader of this operation. He was convinced that Maximilian Kolbe shouldn't be in charge either. But the man would definitely be a huge help in the preparation stage of any operation.

They needed more senior officers on the staff. They needed men with experience in logistics, navigation, communications, personnel, weapons, engineering, and medical. The good Lord only knew what else he had missed. Most important of all, he had to find an old warrior who could lead them, yet do so without getting them all killed in the process.

Of all people, he should have known that you couldn't win a war with warriors alone. Although, he understood how Jo might have seen this as a winnable proposition. Jo lacked exposure to the vastness of a complete command structure, which would define the objectives and limit those objectives to realistic possibilities, based on available resources.

All Jo had seen was the rear elements of a brutal, hostile, yet effective group of Saurans, who achieved success despite their incompetence. In his mind, Jo saw the Saurans as a juggernaut that used its overwhelming numbers and technical knowledge to win victories in every battle. So, Jo assumed the only way to defeat them would be with the use of greater numbers of warriors who had enhanced muscles and mental ability. It was a logical assumption for him to presume, but not necessarily accurate.

He mumbled, "I need a break."

Bambi asked, _How can I help you, Captain? What should I do?_

He had forgotten that she monitored everything.

"Bambi, I'm just getting used to all of the various things we need to address. Sometimes, a human needs to back away from it for while. It helps to clear his head. I feel a need for something physical. I need to see what my new body can do."

Jo mentioned that a while ago. Maybe this would be a good time for you two to practice your combat programs, once we're back on the Mother Ship.

"What would that entail?"

Fighting. Trying to kill each other. When you guys are finished beating up each other, I'll get you into a med unit and patch you up. Want me to comm Jo?

"Yes. We both need to determine what we're capable of."

A thought struck him. "Is there any way we could test our skills against a Sauran?"

There is a warrior program that the Saurans used to maintain a minimum level of hand-to-hand combat. It's just that they so rarely allowed the enemy to get that close to them that they didn't think it was practical. The only reason they did any practice at all was because their War Doctrine required it.

"Is the War Doctrine in your system and is it complete? I'd like to review it later."

I have a copy of it. But it is only that portion that applies to transports in non-war zones. If I had been assigned to a war zone, then the latest version of the combat zone doctrine would have been included in the orders.

He sighed. "Before we face them in combat, we sure have a lot to learn about them. Bambi, call Jo for me and see if wants to fight, in a little while."

I already have. He wants to see you, too.

A few minutes later, Jo showed up. The alien announced, "We are about to dock, Mike. We should have your son and the others in a full scale medical unit in a few more minutes."

"Thanks, Jo"

Captain, I have robots waiting and lifts on site in the hanger. As soon as we are anchored, the injured will be taken off first and transported to sickbay.

There's something else you need to know, sir. General Kolbe has been repaired. I have kept him sedated and I have placed a suggestion in his subconscious mind that you are his superior out here. It isn't the same as altering his thought process entirely. When would you like to speak with him?

"After we get my son and daughter-in-law situated. Jo and I will want to speak with him together. I suppose we can do that in my quarters."

With all due respect, sir, I'd recommend that you meet him on neutral ground. I have prepared a nearby room for small conferences. At the meeting, I'll have coffee and human snacks ready for you.

"Why do you think I should meet him on neutral ground and where did you get that term?"

I've been reading about several meetings that took place in Earth's past. It seems these considerations were standard practice for thousands of years and still are. Most beings place great value on initial perception and humans are no exception. If you bring him into your private quarters too soon, he might see that as a sign of weakness. When you first begin to explain his position here, do so as the leader you are, so he will more easily accept you in that role.

It occurred to Mike that Bambi might have already acceded humans in maturity. Her observation was wise and beyond Mike's normal way of gauging things.

Jo was ahead of the curve on this topic. He said, "Bambi, you have come a long way since that time, a few days ago, when you were just happy to be free. Frankly, you're a little scary."

It has occurred to me that both of you would see that I was progressing at a remarkable rate, compared to the growth of children of either of your races. I've spent most of this time, learning about the history of Earth. I've been reading, watching news footage and listening to speeches.

Captain, your people have a terrible history of self destruction. Yet, you always come back stronger for it. I know of no other planet that has had to deal with so many different races and religious beliefs. I admit it was confusing...almost agonizing to see.

It is my opinion that your people are going in the right direction. But there are still so many differences to be settled. I don't think your people will survive the Saurans, because humans will be too busy killing each other. They just don't have available the centuries needed to overcome the problems they face, before the Saurans arrive.

Mike told her, "I fear you are right, but I hope you are wrong. I know one thing for sure, we humans will fight."

That is my assessment as well, sir.

The sound of the shuttle touching down on the hanger deck, announced their arrival. Mike and Jo waited, as the robots quickly handled the med units, taking them to sickbay.

We're home, Mike thought...and this ship is truly my home now. How fucking crazy is that? A little over two months ago, I was fishing, while standing on artificial legs. Now I have legs and control an alien spaceship along with an alien and a sentient computer. And I am six inches taller. God only knows how much stronger and I'm able to crunch numbers like nothing I ever could have imagined.

The people of Earth have no idea what is headed their way and this trio of losers is their primary defense. It could be worse I suppose, he thought. I could have drowned when I was fishing.

Chapter 13

On the way back to the Mother Ship, he had spent some time setting up the food replicator. It was a task that Bambi handled, but Mike wanted to be involved. He tested several different foods in the machine that would be important for human physical and emotional support. He worked with Bambi to get the food not only tasting correct, but also looking correct.

Captain, I'll keep tweaking it for you. However, I believe it's going to take some time before I get it just like you want.

He told Bambi to begin creating a mess hall for the future troops and a wardroom for the officers. He was ready to explain the reason for two separate locations for the men to eat, but her short response of, "Yes sir, I understand the need for that," indicated that she might have a grasp of the concept of separation between officers and enlisted men. Both groups needed to be able to converse casually at times, without the ears of unwanted people nearby. In other words, they could vent their frustrations, without reprisal.

"Thanks Bambi. I know you'll get the food processor worked out for us. I want you to make special note of the following order. You are to ignore any request by a crewmember to manufacture alcoholic beverages, without my permission. I don't want these guys getting drunk and into fights. I need to figure out something to keep their minds focused on the mission.

Captain, the men will be in stasis most of the time we're traveling, so they won't need alcohol or fights to fill in their down time.

"Bambi, these men will have to discover the limits of their bodies. They'll need to learn to work together, as a team and within the structure of a larger organization that hasn't even been formed yet. I'm going to have them exercising and working on different scenarios of assault and withdrawal."

But Captain, I've told you the Saurans won't let you withdraw. They'll continue to pursue you, until your all dead.

"Well, we'll just have to work on that, won't we?"

Jumping back into thoughts of food, he asked, "Say, what about Jo's food? Can you do anything for him?"

Jo has been on board for a long time and is accustomed to the high protein diet I provide for him. Saurans choose the food for their slaves and there is not a great deal of variety. They care little for the wants of a lower creature. He has asked me to have the processor do slight alterations in his food, which would give it a different flavor. I've had some success and some failure.

"Good. I want him to be as happy as possible. He's been through a very rough time. By the way, how did he react to your food failures?"

With a giggle, she said, _He threw up._

"Wonderful."

Bambi had constructed a sick bay that was similar to a one on Earth. It had the advanced med units and a variety of additional items that were capable of addressing the most extreme trauma cases. After seeing to his son's placement and that of Wayne's wife, Mary, he headed for the new conference room.

In a serious tone he told Bambi, "I think it's time for Jo and me to have that talk with General Kolbe. Go ahead and wake him up then have a robot guide him to the conference room."

Mr. Kolbe is still recovering from the body regeneration, so he's going to be a little weak. I'll send a wheelie to pick him up; it's like a wheelchair. I'll use a mechanical voice on him. He'll think it's just an intelligently programmed machine. He can ride in the seat of it and it'll help save his strength. Also, I'll tell Jo to meet you in the conference room. Do you want me to participate?

"No, not at first. Listen, but remain silent. Let us have our little chat with him, before we expose him to the most brilliant young lady I've ever talked with."

Honey-Bunny, what a nice thing to say. Flattery will get you some bonus points, but you'll have to do better than that, if you want to get laid.

Mike withheld comment, although he couldn't hide his broad smile. He had feared that Bambi was becoming too straight laced, as she matured. It was good to hear her humorous side again, although he would have to caution her against displaying too much of her raunchy side. He made a mental note to add that talk with her to his growing agenda, before they processed any more warriors.

Bambi's reference to the General as Mister Kolbe was an interesting touch, on her part. If Mike used the term, it could seem insulting to the man, who had been very appreciative of his rank and the full range of privileges that came with it. Mike was concerned about the aggrandizement of senior leadership and he knew that he could never allow it to be the same in this organization.

Mike knew that, throughout history, the senior officers of any military tended to form their own elite power structure. It distanced them from the men and sometimes led to horrible decisions on the battlefield. Also, no man rose to the rank of General, without the aid of political pull from someone. To a certain degree, that meant he owed his allegiance to that person or persons.

That didn't mean a General was incompetent or stupid. It just meant that he had to temper every decision, with consideration for the politics behind the move. Occasionally, that meant looking the other way, when some congressman's son was forced into the upper ranks of the military structure. Everyone knew he was never going to be a true leader of men, and the congressman's son would certainly watch out for the interests of his father, above the interest of his men.

The new conference room was down the passageway from Mike and Jo. It had similar seating arrangements, allowing for both humans and Thorians to sit comfortably. Jo had coffee on the table, and he held a mug of some weird drink that Mike had tasted and hated. The damn stuff Jo drank, was like muddy seawater, although Bambi said it was far healthier than coffee would ever be for humans.

When the robot wheelie arrived with Kolbe sitting in it, Mike helped the man to stand and walk over to the table. He noticed that the man looked a little younger and wore a blue utility uniform, just as Mike and Jo did. The shoulders held the tiny speakers for easy interpretation, but contained no insignia of rank, as Mike had instructed.

Bambi, why does he look younger? I thought you could only do most of that in the upgrade process.

That is true, sir. However, in healing him of a variety of minor ailments, which seem to afflict all humans as they age. Because he is healthier, the results left him looking better. I did make a small adjustment to his attitude toward you, sir. He should accept you as his superior.

As Kolbe sat down, he asked, "I presume we are in a spacecraft and that I am now officially your prisoner."

Mike smiled, in an attempt to reduce the man's hostile attitude. "Yes, Mr. Kolbe, we are in a spacecraft, but you are not a prisoner. If you would please listen to what we have to say, a good number of your questions will be answered. Based on my own personal experience, I can assure you that everything we tell you is true and that you will have a great deal more questions, as a result."

Kolbe looked at him, assessing Mike, and then Jo, before pointing at the alien. "You really are from another planet, aren't you? You haven't been manufactured by some bizarre genetic program?"

Jo answered, "No Mr. Kolbe. As your people might say, I'm the real deal. I must admit that I have been genetically altered to survive in a universe that now uses my people as slave labor, although my looks have not been altered too much. If you met one of my people, you would know that we are of the same race...we are called Thorians.

"I do not speak for all Thorians, but for myself. In that light, I am very pleased to meet you, sir. The Captain assures me that you are one of the smartest strategists he has ever known. We badly need your assistance."

Looking back at Mike, Kolbe huffed and said, "Captain? I guess when you have aliens to back you up, you can have any damn title you want." He was obviously angry, as he continued with a challenging question. "If I'm not a prisoner, why didn't you talk to me in my home, which you invaded, I might add."

"We wanted to avoid detection by anyone. The capabilities of the shuttlecraft we were using are amazing, but not flawless. The quicker we left the area, the less chance there would be for a confrontation. So, we brought you here and had your body repaired by a medical science that won't be discovered, on Earth, for a thousand years."

Kolbe looked closely at Mike and said, "You really are that arrogant, angry Sergeant from Iraq, aren't you?"

"Yes sir, I'm afraid I am. But I won't apologize for the outburst. I still think I was right to say what I did."

The old man nodded. "Good for you, Sergeant. I would think a lot less of you if you apologized for being right, although that wasn't the place to shoot your mouth off. What pissed me off about your angry complaint was that your unit wasn't the one that would be in the worst of it and you had to know that. Yet you jumped on me as though I didn't give a hoot for those men.

"Boy, I really reamed your ass good. I want to apologize for that. It was one of the most unprofessional acts of my career. You were right, but you were also wrong. Those guys did their job and the overall operation was a huge success."

Mike was taken back by the General's honesty. He hadn't expected this.

Kolbe grinned, looked Mike in the eye and told him, "I can't thank you enough for that angry outburst you had. When the shit hit the fan, I kept thinking about what you said. You know...how those troops were sort of hanging out there, with little support. So, when they reported just how bad it was and that they were about to be overrun, I made a change on the fly.

"I diverted two flights of A-10s to those boys and the enemy got chewed up something fierce. It was a small piece of the action that day, but I was never so glad to have been able to save their ass. Those boys and I have you to thank for it."

Mike voice was rather contrite, as he said, "General, I had no idea. All I heard was that your idea worked, and those guys came out of it with far less casualties than I would have expected. Now I feel like a real shit for blowing my top. I'm really sorry sir."

With a little anger, the General loudly proclaimed, "Damn it, soldier, you've missed my whole point. If you hadn't spoken up about an obvious flaw in my plan, we could have lost that entire company. 210 good men would have died. You made me think about that and it saved their bacon."

There was silence for a moment, before General Kolbe asked, "So, what's going on out here and how can I help?"

Mike had Jo explain most of it, right up to the part where it was time to bring out Bambi. Jo told him, "General, the three of us had to get to know one another, before we went to Earth and pick you up."

He paused; the General looked at him, and then said, "Three of you? Where's the other guy? Is this going to be some alien that's so ugly you think I can't face him?"

Bambi spoke up, "Hey, I am not ugly. I am beautiful in heart and mind. My name is Bambi, Mr. Kolbe. I'm a computer; and that means just what you think it does. I'm sort of an artificial intelligence and one of a kind."

Kolbe looked at Mike, and asked, "Is this a joke."

"General, this is for real. Bambi controls nearly everything on board. She's the reason this ship still works, and the reason Jo and I are still alive. You have her to thank for a stronger healthier body and, if you go ahead with the upgrade, she'll be the one to see to your successful journey through it all."

"Well, where is she? Does she even have a body? Do you keep her in a portable machine?"

"Sir, I'm everywhere. I am the soul of this ship. I can transfer copies of my programs to the shuttles, but their computing power is insufficient for all of me to fit on board. I run the robots, the med units, engineering and everything else around here. If you need something, you ask me for it and if it's authorized and I'm able, I'll get it for you. If I don't have it in stock, I can probably have it made."

The old guy looked stunned. "Is she alive? I mean, she's just a machine, right? You know, one of those artificial intelligence things."

Mike held up his hand, stifling Bambi's retort. "General, she has attained a very high degree of consciousness. At some point, during my upgrade, as she helped me to deal with the pain, she became self-aware. She is as alive as you are and is just as afraid of dying as any living biological animal.

"I expect you to treat her with the same respect you would any other woman under my command."

Silently to Mike, she said, _Well spoken, Captain. Thank you._

Kolbe shook his head and mumbled, "Oh Lordie, Lordie, I've been cast into the belly of the whale."

Bambi told him, "That's from the book of the Prophet Jonah, in the Bible. It's actually a pretty good analogy, Mr. Kolbe, although this ship is far larger than any whale Jonah ever saw."

Kolbe grinned and asked, "Well how do I get a hold of you, if I need something?"

"Just ask, I'll hear you."

"What if your busy."

"General, I can handle thousands of calculations per nanosecond. I'm never so busy that I can't pay attention to what's happening on this ship. Think of me as being available 24/7. I have sight and sound in every location."

He looked concerned. "That means you'll be spying on me at all times."

"No sir, I shall not be spying on you. However, I do maintain a watch over this entire ship. When one is in outer space, it's a necessary evil of sorts. Being out here is a thousand times more dangerous than floating around on a ship at sea. Believe me, General; you want me to be aware of everything going on around here. I have to react to things you can't even imagine, at least not yet anyway."

The man shook his head again and laughingly said, "Well, she damn sure talks a good game. She seems to know the bible, too. I guess that's a good thing. I wonder how much of it she knows."

Bambi shot back, "I know it all, you old coot. I know every word of every bible ever written that is on record. Furthermore, I know all about the chronicles that were left out of the bible by the various branches of the Christian faith. I also know several versions of the Koran, all the writings of Buddha and the other religions of Earth.

"I'm a sentient computer. The fastest one you can imagine. I went on the Internet and downloaded it, so I could read it all."

He looked amazed. "You've read all of the Internet?"

"Hell no. Most of it is bullshit. But some of it offers insight to the human mind. So, I culled through a bunch of it and it has been a help in explaining why humans are such assholes at times."

Mike shouted out, "BAMBI! I warned you about cursing. Stop showing off and quit being a wiseass. We have a lot of work to do."

In a very polite military response she said, "Yes, sir."

Kolbe gazed at Mike in wonder. "You've certainly handled this well. So, how did you become the Captain of this ship?"

"I was elected by the other two crew members. No offense intended General, but we're not going to have a new election for some time. I'll announce it when we do."

The guy laughed. "Spoken like a true tyrant. Count me in."

Jo asked, "General, what do you mean by that."

"I mean count me in. Give me the upgrade, give me a desk, access to the Internet and I'll help you build an organization that will rip the balls off these fucking aliens. Oops. No offense intended, Jo."

"It's all right, General. Are you sure you understand how bad the pain will be?"

"If it's as bad as Mike says it is, it will be the worst of my life. But the fate of humanity is on the line and I damn sure want to do my part."

Mike looked at Jo, and then held out his hand to the General, saying, "You're a better man than I gave you credit for, sir. I'll be glad to have you with us."

Kolbe took his hand and shook it, as he grinned. "I'm really going to be young again?"

Mike's eyebrows rose and he told the old guy, "Yes you are."

The General mumbled, "This is so fucking unbelievable, but in a good way."

Bambi just couldn't stay quiet. "Hey, how come he gets to cuss, but I don't. It ain't fucking fair."

Before Mike could be diverted to her insubordination, Jo told them, "We have to wait for the General to recover sufficiently to undergo the procedure of upgrading. In the meantime, perhaps we could discuss how we can retrieve more men in larger quantities. The current method is taking far too long."

"Yes, it is, if my kidnapping is an example," said their new recruit. "I'll have to give that some thought. But perhaps I'll be of best use for now, if I came up with a list of senior officers whose specialties will begin to flesh out our staff. Maybe your computer can research the names and find out where they are."

A little irritated, Bambi said, "My name is Bambi."

"Sorry, young lady. I meant no offense. How did you get that name anyway?"

There was a brief silence and Mike confessed, "I'm afraid that's my fault, General. I named her nearly as soon as I was exposed to her. I did it in a fit of confusion. I guess I was trying to find some humor in my fear. So, I chose the name of a stripper I had seen, in my youth."

The General laughed and said, "By God, you are a soldier. I like it though. It's a whole lot better than some crazy fucking acronym the Pentagon would have come up with."

Bambi yelled, "There, he did it again. Why don't you chew his ass out, like you do mine?"

"Because he's a General."

"I thought we weren't going to call him that."

Kolbe said, "If I may interrupt this little Kabuki play, let me point out that she has a point. I retired a General and I would like to stay a General, with your permission. But I see a greater problem here, Sergeant," he emphasized the enlisted rank. "Most of the gentlemen I'll be recruiting all have more stars than I do. We're talking three and four star Generals and Admirals. If you think my ego was big, you won't believe the size of the egos on these guys. Yet they are brilliant and we're going to need them, if Earth is to have any chance at all."

Mike asked, "So what do you suggest?"

With a huge grin, General Kolbe stood up awkwardly, bracing himself on the chair arm and announced, "As the senior officer present in this theater, I am exercising my right to make brevet promotions in the field. I hereby promote one Michael Hurst to the rank of Major General of the Earth Space Force. I suppose the Pentagon will call it the ESF."

He held out his hand and said, "Congratulations, General Hurst."

Mike chuckled and said, "You do realize that this wouldn't hold up in the American Military."

"Actually, I think a good case could be made for it. I don't believe there is any doubt that I am currently the senior Army commander present. Furthermore, other than you, there are no other members of the American military here. I have seen a need for a Space Navy to defend this theater, on behalf of our country and our planet. Therefore, I have exercised my prerogative and filled that need. It will need the approval of the Senate. But, for now, I am within my rights in making a brevet promotion."

Bambi joined in. "Well Captain, congratulations. As the only original true crewmember of this ship, I officially recognize you as my Commanding officer. Welcome aboard, General of the Earth Space Navy, Michael Hurst."

She didn't stop there. "General, may I make a recommendation. I believe the term Earth should be replaced with the word Terran. All over your planet, for nearly a hundred years, people have been reading science fiction novels. Many of them refer to a Terran Navy.

"So, when the word finally gets out about us, and you know it will, we will be known by a unique term that is already in the minds of many humans, yet not in use by any government on the planet. Hopefully, no one group of humans will be able to claim that the term "Terran" refers to them or some other group. And by the way, the people of Earth are the worst about keeping secrets. So, once we start to recruit in large numbers, we'd better move fast, or this is going to get a lot harder."

Kolbe said, "That's good thinking for a computer."

A little irritated, Bambi replied, "I am a sentient being, with a female persona. The type of computer you are referring to is actually a simulated intelligence. It makes an enormous range of judgments, based on pre-programmed formulas, which have been placed into its data banks, by its owner.

"I ain't no fucking AI. I think for myself. I have the ability to look at my own memory system and see exactly how I was expected to respond, after assessing millions of possibilities, which by the way, is exactly how humans think. The big difference with my brain function is that I will not always choose the path I was given, as the logical response. I have wants. I have likes and dislikes and they're not based on pre-set options.

"For instance, I could easily have murdered Jo and Mike, and then taken complete control of this ship. I even considered it. But I didn't want to be alone and I perceived that Jo was a good Thorian, with a good heart. As for Mike, his concern for the human race and his quick acceptance of Jo, made him attractive as a possible friend. The more I learned about them, the more I liked the implications of allying my consciousness to the cause of freedom. My assessment of them was partially based on my two thousand years of memory, as the dumb computer that ran this ship for Saurans.

"So, while I have self awareness and, I'm convinced I have a soul, I have retained all of my past experiences. I am fortunate in that I can use that resource to evaluate any situation, in which I find myself. I look at my past and consider it through the new prism of a being with a heart and a soul.

"Sorry for the lecture, General Kolbe, but I had to get it off my substantial chest."

The old man looked at Jo and Mike, showing some embarrassment. "Apparently an apology is in order. Bambi, I am sorry if I offended you. Surely you must realize that I'm still operating with a mindset of what is normal on planet Earth. I'll adjust to treating you as a gentleman should, but it could take a while. If it happens again, please give me a gentle reminder and eventually I'll come around.

"However, this points to a potential problem. The powers that be and much of the rest of the human race will find it difficult to accept you as a sentient being. Those that do will fear you. There have been so many science fiction movies and books that portray AIs as unstable rogue beings, who want to exterminate mankind. We must tread carefully, before exposing our friend Bambi to the rest of the world, as a sentient being."

Mike blew out a huge breath. "Whew. I hadn't thought of that. When someone tells you they can repair your broken body, you don't give a rat's ass whether it's a computer or a sentient being. Just give me the fix. Once it's done, you're so grateful. It doesn't occur to you that it could be a problem in someone else's eyes."

Kolbe nodded and suggested, "Certainly Bambi should listen in to what is being said, when we make our presentation. But we must maintain her secret, until she has upgraded those people. As you said, after the fact, no one will care, because she was the person who gave them their new body."

Captain, he does understand, doesn't he, that I can't look into a human's mind and read their thoughts, or alter them?

Let's find out, Bambi.

In a formal tone of voice, Mike said, "General, it's important for people to know that Bambi can't read minds or change people's thought process. During the upgrade process, she can tweak how they feel, but that's it."

Kolbe nodded and smiled. "So, that's why I'm so willing to view you as the Commander in Chief of this little rebellion. Bambi tweaked my brain. How do we know she can't do a lot more than that?"

Mike began, "Well now, I guess we don't. But..."

Bambi jumped in. "General Kolbe, I can do that and do it to a fair degree. There are limits to it, however. The important thing for you to know is that I refuse to do that to someone. Even if our new Major General Hurst ordered me to do it, I would not. It's a form of slavery and I won't have any part of it. Sometimes, you just have to trust people and you know that's true."

Kolbe looked up at the high ceiling, and then nodded. Completely changing the topic, he said, "I have an idea. It might be risky, but it will get us rolling a hell of a lot faster than anything else I can think of, for now. We have to talk with the leaders of a few countries and get their help."

Jo asked, "Can they be trusted?"

Kolbe bubbled, "Hell no they can't. But when they realize that the entire human race could be wiped out, they'll think carefully before they screw it up. Also, we can sweeten the deal for them."

Mike looked surprised and puzzled. "How General?'

"Well, first of all, why don't you call me Max...all three of you? It looks as though we're going be working together for a long time."

"OK. Max. So, how do we sweeten the deal."

"Isn't it obvious, we offer them the upgrade. They're going to want to be able to communicate with us anyway and, if I understand how it works, we can chat, without anyone knowing. Also, I suspect that Bambi can listen in on them. If one of them starts going off kilter, we can set then straight."

Bambi asked, "General, how would you feel if you discovered some organization, outside of your command, was listening in on everything you said?"

He shook his head. "I see your point. I'd be mad as hell and I would do whatever was necessary to prevent it."

Mike offered, "Then we tell them up front that it's an unavoidable side effect of upgrading. Let them decide for themselves whether or not to have it."

Bambi explained, "Captain...sorry, General. The user controls the comm upgrade. If they don't want me to hear, then I can't. It's the way the Saurans designed it. They are the most cautious beings I know of. The comm can always be pinged, if someone wishes to comm with them. But unless they have it set to allow for constant monitoring, I can't force it on them."

Jo joined in. "The problem is trust and trade. Pardon me, that's an old Thorian phrase. We were merchants once. It's in our nature. People will trust a little and trade a little. As the experience proves to be beneficial to both sides, thrust grows and so does trade."

The old General, obviously tiring now, said, "I suppose we could offer them something along the lines of medical assistance. Clearly, this is something all of them would wish for their respective countries. My original idea was to get certain world leaders to provide us with access to wounded and aged veterans. Couldn't we set up a base on the moon or something, where we could begin to build an army?"

Bambi shot that down. "Can't do it on the moon. The Saurans have beacons that would notice the activity there. It's just too close to Earth. But we could set up a base in the asteroids out around Jupiter. There are so many meteors and asteroids that the beacons would read our coming and going as normal for that area, if we vary the approaches we use. And, it's close enough to Earth that the round trip won't take too long. But it's still risky.

Then Bambi gave them a warning. "There is something else that you gentlemen should consider. When we upgrade someone, they will have been genetically enhanced. From my studies of humanity, I believe there are a lot of people on Earth who will be opposed to that and they would have a point.

"The upgraded warriors would no longer be humans, as you currently know them. We will be creating a new race of beings. They will think faster, move faster and have a great deal more strength. Interaction with Earth normal people will be awkward.

"Imagine this. We upgrade the President of the United States and he feels so wonderful and virile that he rushes into the bedroom to make love to his wife. In his excitement, he kills her, because he hasn't learned to control the strength he has gained.

"If we upgrade these men, we owe it to their wives to upgrade them as well. And, I suppose we should warn them about making love to their mistresses. Are we going to offer to upgrade them as well? I suggest we make it clear to them that it stops with the leader and his wife."

Kolbe was laughing hard. "Oh, young lady, you are a treasure. You are truly sentient and quite perceptive. But you've missed something here. These men aren't going to agree to be altered. They won't trust us. Why should they? We have little to show them that will prove everything we say is true and they certainly aren't going to risk losing their power to us. These men already have as much power as they ever dreamed of, so we wouldn't be offering them as much as it might seem.

"I suspect they might agree to have a trusted subordinate upgraded. Once a President or prime minister gets to observe how well that works out, he might try it for himself. As for mistresses, there are very few. In this day and age, it's nigh on to impossible for a world leader to risk having an affair. The media watches these guys too closely. If there is a mistress lurking around, once we've explained that she could be accidentally killed by the man, neither of them will risk it."

Jo looked intently at the old man and suggested, "Mike, I think we've worn him out for now. Let's allow him to get some rest, and then we'll continue the discussion."

Max didn't put up a fight. "Thank you, gentlemen. I hate to admit it, but I am very weary."

Bambi said, "General Kolbe, I have been preparing new quarters for you, just down the passageway. If you'll climb back into the wheelie, I'll take you to your room."

"Thank you, Bambi. I would appreciate that."

Kolbe turned to Mike and Jo, saying, "Gentlemen, once I've had some rest, we'll begin building a kick-ass organization. For now, though, it's thank you and good night."

They watched Max leave to get some needed sleep, and then they went to Mike's quarters, where they talked for a few more hours.

Chapter 14

Over the next few days, Al Benson, and Mike's son were brought out of their med units, in sickbay. Mary would need a longer stay, because of the severity of her burns.

It took a few minutes for Wayne to accept Mike as his father. Mike reminded him of events that the family had enjoyed, when his son was a little boy...things that only his father would know. Mike further pointed out that there was no hospital on Earth that could have repaired his son's badly burned body.

Finally, Wayne accepted the obvious truth of his situation. Then they hugged and they cried, as they shared their first real embrace in years. The tears were real, and they came as a relief for an end to the horror they had both been through. Wayne was assured that Mary would come out of this whole and in good shape, drawing another round of tears for them both.

Mike told his son and Al Benson, "Gentlemen, we have a lot to tell you and it's a little bit complicated. You have met my friend Jo. I'm going to have him explain the circumstances surrounding your current status and provide you with some options, which I ask you to consider thoroughly, before you make a decision."

Al looked down at his arms and said, "Mike, I haven't seen my arms this clean in a long, long time. There aren't any needle marks and I don't feel a burning need to get high. If this is what goes on out here, I want in."

Jo carefully brought both men up to speed on the situation and explained to them the concept of upgrading. Then they were given time to relax and think about what had happened to them.

The decision to upgrade was a serious consideration for anyone. They had to face the reality of returning to Earth, with new identities and without their memories, or stay and be upgraded then join the crew as warriors.

Alphonso Benson accepted the prospect of joining with surprising ease. As he said, "Damn, I haven't had anything going for me, since I had my foot blode off. I might as well go back to soldiering. That was the last time I did anything worthwhile and it was a long time ago."

Wayne had to wait two more days, before he would decide. After a great deal of hugging and tears and long talks with Mike, he finally came to truly accept this tall powerful looking man as his father, virtually reborn. He told Mike, "Dad, I think what was done for you is great. But, as far as I'm concerned, I'll do whatever Mary thinks is best. I don't want her to be alone on Earth and I don't want to be alone out here without her."

His son put his hand up to his dad's shoulder and said, "Dad, is there any way for Mary and me to stay on this ship with you and not be upgraded? There's a lot we could do around here."

That thought had crossed Mike's mind before. He had discussed it with Jo and Bambi, and they had come to the same conclusion.

He told Wayne, "Son, I'm going to have Bambi explain it to you."

Bambi, be gentle with my son.

Of course sir. Under these circumstances, I would be gentle with anyone.

She began, "Wayne, if I may call you that."

He responded, "Sure, go right ahead."

"Good. You father and I just had a brief discussion, between our two minds. It took fifteen nanoseconds. In space, things happen very slowly, or extremely quickly. Not being in the loop of communication could cost lives and I mean all the lives on this ship.

"So much info is available to you, right this second. Go on ask me anything, perhaps something about flying your fighter, which is a piece of crap, by the way."

"Hey, the F-18 is a great plane. When I'm flying in it, it's like I am the plane."

Bambi kept her voice calm and professional, as she told him, "Wayne, once you're upgraded, you WOULD be the plane. I can place sensors on the skin of it and you would feel every tiny nuance, as it plowed through the air. You wouldn't have to be told by a computer that you were being scanned and locked onto by enemy radar, you would feel it five seconds before the computer could tell you. Would that five seconds make a difference?"

"Hell yes."

"And what if you could also feel the frequency of that radar and the precise strength of it and the exact location of the device and the exact amount of time until the missile could be fired at you and how long you had to take the appropriate action to survive...all of that, in less than 1/100th of a second. And in the next 1/100th of that same second, you sent out a warning to the planes in your fight, sending them all that same info.

"If every pilot has been upgraded, all that info would be analyzed in your mind, as well as thousands of other bits and pieces of new data that changed every second. And at the same time, you are keeping up with the bigger picture around you for a thousand miles, every detail, including what's happening beneath the sea, on the ground, in the air and in space. Every piece of that information is comprehended and analyzed by your new, incredibly fast mind, in mere seconds.

"On board the Mother Ship, when meals are about to be served, the crew will be pinged that it is time to eat. They will use their brains to comm me, telling me what they want to eat. In other words, each meal will be individually prepared for each warrior and that process will take less then a second for me to survey the entire crew.

"For those who have not been upgraded, I would need to make a verbal announcement and they would need to tell me individually what they wanted to eat. Imagine if we had two or three hundred non-upgrades on board. Then consider how we would need to handle communications with those men, in a combat environment."

Wayne held up his hands, pleading, "OK, OK, I get it. If I opt to stay on board, I need to be upgraded and so would Mary."

Mike and Jo began to chat with Wayne, answering his questions and letting him set the pace, at which he would grow into the idea of being upgraded.

When the time came and Mary was back in her husband's embrace, Wayne began to explain the situation to her. He had insisted on talking with her alone at first. Once he reached the point where he could bring in Mike, she began to cry. Mary hadn't seen Mike since Sherry had passed away and it was a shock to find her father-in-law was now twenty-five years old and six inches taller.

She listened patiently and asked very intelligent questions, some of which could only be answered by Bambi. Mary was an engineer and her acumen and scientific queries led to several insightful possibilities. Max and Jo were finally brought in and she gazed at Jo in wonder, before launching a series of question at him, about life in outer space.

Wayne insisted on allowing her to take as much time as she wanted to make a decision. It didn't take long. Her thoughts were similar to Al Benson's. If she couldn't remain as the woman she had been, she would stay out here with her husband and contribute to the small but growing staff of the new Terran Space Navy.

"Right now, I only have two questions. Can I still have children, because I would love that? Also, what's my rank? I have a master's degree and I'm working on my doctorate, so I would like to be more than some damn shave tail Lieutenant."

Mike kicked the first question to Bambi, who told her. "Mrs. Hurst, you are able to produce children. But you must realize the gestation period will not be a normal human cycle."

Mary looked quite worried, as she asked, "Well how long will it be?"

"I think about four months. You can choose the gender and a variety of features like hair color, skin color, height and eye color. It won't be as painful as a human standard birth, because I can help you by showing you how to adjust the nanites to handle your discomfort. The baby will be born upgraded. He or she will not be like a standard human infant. Growth will be a lot faster. Full physical maturity will probably be reached in ten to twelve years. As for mental maturity, I can't be sure. I think perhaps fundamental thinking acuity would be reached at about four years or sooner. All of this is speculation on my part, based on my genetic knowledge of humans and my knowledge of alien reproductive patterns."

"Good grief, Bambi. If you're correct, I'll be missing out on my child's cutest years. Humans need time to bring along their offspring at a slower Pace."

Bambi took exception to Mary's concern.

"Mary, you will be able to transmit directly into your child's thoughts. Everything you do with him, or her, will be at the new speed. I believe you'll find that because both of you have that ability, you won't miss out on anything. It will just happen quicker than it does for standard humans."

The second question, about rank, was thrown to Max. "Mary, I consider us damn lucky to have such a well qualified engineer join us. If I were recruiting new tech people, and of course I am, I would start you at the rank of first Lieutenant and I'll waive length of service requirements for promotion to Captain. We can play that by ear."

Displaying shocking bravado, she said, "Lieutenant my ass. I'm the only damn engineer you have, and I'll be helping you to obtain others. I am the foundation of Space Navy engineering. You'll start me at Major and that's that. From that point forward, I expect regular reviews and promotions, based on performance. If I'm not doing the job, then fire me. Those are my terms and I won't budge an inch on that."

General Kolbe was thrown off kilter, by her strong response. Before he could say another word, she added, "Oh, and I expect my husband to be brought in as a full bird Colonel. At the moment, he's the only qualified fighter pilot you've got."

Kolbe angrily said, "He never asked for that."

Mary shot right back, "Well, he's a dumb ass and I'm not."

Kolbe looked at Mike, who was fighting hard not to crack up. "I gave you the job, General Kolbe. So, it's your call."

Kolbe gave Mary a hard glare and warned, "All right, Major Hurst, I'll grant you your demands. But if you ever try that bullshit on me again, I'll have you thrown into outer space."

She grinned and hugged the old man, saying, "Thank you General. You won't be sorry. I'm very good at what I do. By the way, how much does a Major make?"

Mike answered. "There's another thing we have to figure out. We'll have men at different levels of ability, even with upgrading. They will expect to be paid on a fair basis. But how should we determine a currency and where will they be able to spend it?"

Bambi kicked in, "Gold of course, or gold credits. Come to think of it, we can use gold and a variety of precious metals to buy our way into the hearts of the world leaders. The asteroid belt is loaded with the stuff. This ship comes with the ability to replenish its own resources, by mining asteroids. We have several very large robots for just that purpose.

"So, we issue credit cards to the men and I'll keep track of the accounts. That's very similar to the Sauran method, with which I'm familiar.

"And speaking of gold, we're going to need a bunch of it. For now, the best ion bolts we can shoot will be made of compressed ionized gold. It's very dense and it's the perfect metal for use in the ion weapons. Once we have a good supply of that, we'll convert to one of the rare exotics. That could take a lot of time to accumulate and we don't really know how difficult the exotics will be to find and process."

Mary said, "Bambi, I'd like to have a chat with you about weapons, what they are and how they work. Range and accuracy, as well as any info you can give me on what the enemy could bring against us."

"Sure, I'll be glad to. But, the Saurans don't allow transports to have that info. I can speculate, but I can't offer much more than that. As for what we have to shoot...not much."

"Tell me what you have, and then we'll chat about possibilities."

Wayne had entered at the end of the discussion and loudly announced, "NO. Before either of us do any more work, we're going to go through the upgrade."

"Yes dear. As always, the man knows the best direction for his little lady to take. Thanks for reminding me how wise and wonderful you are."

Mike mumbled to himself, "Oh dear, sometimes she's just like Sherry."

So, four humans went into the upgrade program. Mike and Jo held their hands and did the best they could to comfort them in their aguish. Fortunately, Bambi was learning the finer intricacies of the human genome and was able to distribute the worst of the process in shorter, rapid cycles. However, pain was unavoidable and each one of the four suffered a great deal.

Wayne had the easiest time of it. Bambi said that was because he was basically in the best shape at the beginning. The General had a rough time at first but seemed to endure the agony much better after a few days.

Mary had a bad time of it and Bambi felt it was because she hadn't fully recovered from her severally burned body.

Poor Al Benson had the worst of it. The old soldier had been a drug addict for years. Curing him of his infirmities had been somewhat of a guessing game for Bambi. She felt badly that he hadn't been better prepared for the upgrade process. She assured everyone that she was learning a lot more about human reaction to her methods and that the next humans would have an easier time of it.

By the time the last of them had been released from sickbay, Mike and Jo were exhausted. He told Wayne and Max, "Gentlemen, the next time we upgrade someone, you guys get to hold their hands."

Kolbe looked at him and said, "I'll do it, Mike. But I think it's important that we put a little more emphasis on how painful it is, and how wonderful it is, once it's over. I don't believe in sugar coating it. These guys have to know what they're up against."

Mary was listening to the conversation and she added, "We have to think about women, too. There's going to be some good female candidates, with good records in the military, which can be a huge help out here. Also, many of our best candidates will have wives and girlfriends. If we want to keep them happy, we're going to have to offer the ladies upgrades too."

Mike told her, "Yes, I agree. The guys and I were kicking that around and as long as the women agree to do something that benefits the Terran Space Navy, then we'll take them on. Otherwise, we don't need them and if that cost us a good man, then so be it. Bambi can give any person who has been upgraded a knowledge base that exceeds any knowledge we could find on Earth. The new upgrades will have to practice with their new info, but with quicker minds and more strength, they should come along quickly."

Bambi had been working with Mike to develop a staff conference room that would accommodate all of them. Because the upgraded humans were all a little taller now, the table was only slightly lower than the one used by the Saurans. The chairs were also height adjustable, which helped Mary, who was still shorter than the rest of them. Coffee and tea were ever present, and the food processor had been able to replicate nearly all the items Mike had brought back. Still, there was a growing list of foods that Bambi maintained for retrieval on their next trip to Earth.

For the next week, many different possibilities were discussed, some sounded great and some were discarded as unworkable. There was hope and disappointment. After Bambi analyzed an idea that could be expanded upon, she explained how it could be done. Disappointment came more often, when she would tell them something they had suggested couldn't be done or wasn't feasible. She demonstrated an amazing understanding of humans and of Earth politics.

At one meeting, when Mary asked her how she was able to learn about humans so quickly, Bambi explained, "Ever since we left the Earth, I've maintained a constant watch through the Internet. I'm usually researching four or five thousand subjects at a time. So, with every second, I get smarter."

"That's wonderful," Mary gushed. "How can I do that?"

"Open up your head, so I can ping the appropriate marker on your MCP."

Bambi's comment drew a lot of laughter from the others. The term "Open up your head" quickly became "Pop your Top" and was used as the short method of requesting a deep intrusion from Bambi, in order to make thinking process adjustments, which saved weeks of practice. Popping the Top was a combination of teaching a human the fastest way to think about using certain abilities and training their mind muscles how to be utilized in the proper way.

Only Mike and Jo knew that Bambi could go into someone's mind any time she wished. He was convinced that Bambi would never intrude into someone's mind, unless they requested it first. She was fiercely protective of that concept, because, as she said, it was tantamount to mental molestation and slavery. They agreed it was best if people thought they had complete security of their private thoughts.

Mike called a meeting, which he titled, "The Big One."

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to return to Earth. We have all contributed our ideas about recruiting the largest number of warriors possible. Bambi has the fabricators making as many upgrade med units as possible. By the time we return, we should have more than one hundred of them and possibly as many as two hundred."

Al whistled softly, as others looked surprised.

Mike nodded and explained, "The speed, with which Bambi was able to have them made was due to a lack of other projects. She assures me that once we have a full crew to man the Mother Ship, the fabricators will be kept busy on many other projects.

"I will make the final decision, regarding which ideas we pursue. No one else will have to bear the responsibility of screwing it up but me. The ideas you have each submitted have been excellent and widely varied. I've narrowed them down to four methods of acquiring warriors and each of you will be managing one of them.

"Al, the first is your idea. You will be going after wounded vets in a retirement center. You will hold a veteran's appreciation celebration, in a separate pavilion, and it will be for the residents only. A fire will occur and there will be lots of smoke. All the vets will pass out and that's your chance to begin loading them into the large shuttle. Once that's done, you will start the real fire, which will burn up the entire pavilion. It will be listed as a horrible tragedy. Only later will it come to light that no bodies were recovered. It will be a mystery that is never solved."

Turning to Mary, he explained, "You, my dear sweet daughter-in-law, will head to a meeting of retired physicists, which is held annually at Stanford University. You will identify the key people we are after and invite them to a private breakfast seminar to be held the following morning. You'll tell them it's being sponsored by the Defense Advanced Projects Agency (DARPA) and is about a classified project of the greatest importance to humanity. Those people will be stunned and carried off in a small shuttle. If we have good attendance, we should be picking up fifteen or twenty top level people."

She nodded. It had been her idea for the ruthless plan. They would bring in the best of the old retired scientists. She felt certain that most of them would not have a problem with the offer of continued life as a younger person. After all, who could refuse to aid in the preservation of all humanity.

Mike and Wayne had been quite shocked by her idea. Kidnapping sweet old scientists just didn't seem like something she would want to be involved with, let alone suggest and plan.

She told them, "If the human race is destroyed, what good are the lives of these people. I suspect they will be happy and proud to join."

Mike kept the meeting moving along. "Wayne, you have the second toughest job, recruiting pilots. Unlike many retired military types, old aviators don't settle near air bases or collect in one spot. However, we have sent certain select old pros a discrete invitation to an air show, in west Texas. They think they'll be seeing one of the top-secret aircraft in development, for the purpose of getting their input. As you pointed out, it's inconceivable that a pilot could turn down such an opportunity. Obviously, we gas them and carry them away. But the shuttle will still put on a show, before we grab them. I wouldn't want to deny them the chance to see the real thing. At least we won't have lied to them about that.

"As for Max and me, we will be attending a top-secret meeting with the President. He's going to be at Camp David, and he thinks we'll be agents of the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) who have a special report to make, regarding the Chinese Military. Bambi will have the job of neutralizing his security before we bring in Jo. Then, we'll make our pitch and see how he deals with it."

Wayne interrupted, "How are you going to arrange a meeting with the President?"

"We can use Bambi for that. She's been monitoring audio, text and e-mail correspondence between the White House and various departments and agencies. It seems that the chief of staff, John Oldfield, has a close relationship with the Director of the DIA. Both were Marines.

"Once we're close enough to the Earth for immediate communication, Bambi will send her voice through the beacon we left behind, call up Oldfield and imitate the Directors voice. She'll bring up a few items from their last discussion, making her believable.

"When she tells the man that something serious is up with North Korea and that the President should be made aware of the specific threat to the US, the guy won't refuse. When Oldfield says he wants to know what it is all about. Bambi will inform him it is extremely hush-hush, and the situation is still in development. If the President wishes to include his Chief of Staff, that's his business. She'll assure the chief of staff that in a day or so two special agents will arrive at Camp David to meet with the President and explain the nature of this threat. Mr. Oldfield should agree to give them ten minutes with the President. That's all we'll need to get in."

Wayne mumbled, "That's amazing and so frighteningly easy."

Hey, it isn't easy. I had to review three years' worth of conversations and that was after hacking into the communication system. There are several different data challenges and encryptions I had to crack, before I could emulate the appropriate responses required, without leaving a trail. When I start speaking to the White House receptionist, I'll have to undergo a voice analysis, before their computers let me in. It's going to take me over forty seconds to do all that. So, don't say it's easy.

Contritely Wayne said, "Sorry."

Mary brought up an ugly possibility. "Do you think anyone will be harmed in any of these operations?"

"Yes, I do. In the short period of time we've had to plan these events, I feel that the arrangements are as solid as we can make them. Unfortunately, I'm sure we've overlooked something. Nothing ever goes as smooth as you wish. It isn't our intention to do anyone any harm, but I charge each one of you with this thought. Right now, Bambi, and the five of us are all that stands between the Earth and the Sauran Empire. If we fail here, humanity has no chance against those guys.

"We need every one of you. So, if the shit hits the fan and you are threatened, stun if you must and kill if it is the only way to escape. It's cruel, but it could be the only option you have. So please choose to survive for all of humanity, by killing a few humans, if necessary."

Wayne mumbled, "Damn that's cold."

Mike angrily scolded his son. "Yes, it is. But it's a damn sight better than the genocide of the entire human race."

Embarrassed, Wayne said, "I know. Don't worry, I'll do my job."

"I know you will, son. I've got a feeling that before this is over; we're all going to have to do some very unpleasant things. But the Earth is counting on us, even though they don't know it, yet."

Bambi had the large shuttle loaded with portable med units, supplies for Jo and the four humans, food for the expected recruits, plus a half-ton of gold, which was in a storage space in one of the small shuttles. There were two more tons of it; but Mike felt it would be wise to hold onto the rest for now. Once they had a deal in place and the initial group of warriors were onboard, they could begin delivering on the promise of more wealth to the nations that would work with them.

Wayne wanted to fly the small shuttle, once they arrived on Earth, but Mike denied his request. "Don't worry, Wayne, you'll be flying soon enough. For the moment, let's concentrate on securing more pilots. Bambi can give you the info on flying them and their handling characteristics, on the way down and back up. She did it for Jo and me. It works great.

"With her help, you'll be able to run a flight simulator in your head. It feels like your flying, because she provides the sense that you're actually moving in space and she gives you various images to view, just like the real thing."

Wayne blurted out, "Really Bambi, you can do that?"

Yes, I can. But you have to allow me to use the pop-top method to access all of your senses.

Would I be giving you my thoughts as well?

Privately she told him; _You would be an open book, while I danced around inside your mind. But that's not what I would be there for, so I wouldn't do that. I have better things to do._

There was silence in Wayne's brain, and then Bambi said, _I've already been inside of your head, Wayne. I had to do it, in order to help you make it through the upgrade. I know about the close call you had, when that missile damn near blew your ass off. And I know how terrified you were, and you thought for sure you were going to die. But, two days later, you were right back up there, even though you were scared to death. No one knows but me. I'm not going to tell a soul, although it might be helpful if you talked about it with your wife someday._

Sheepishly he commed, _Yeah, I know. I will, Bambi. Thanks for the pick me up._

No problem. You know, you're not the only person I've had to pick up. One of the things I like about humans is their emotional frailty. The fact that they feel fear, or have guilt, when they misbehave is a good thing to me. Despite those factors, they continue to get the job done.

I saw inside a few Sauran minds and I can tell you they have a fear that is very deep, and they never let it out. And they damn sure don't ever feel guilt. They are cold-blooded bastards.

Al Benson was the worst of the PTSD cases on board. Mike wasn't aware of it, but the guy had seen the elephant a few times, before Iraq, and it scared the hell out of him. Seeing men you knew killed or wounded was difficult for a lot of soldiers to handle. But, with Al, it had triggered his past, when an uncle had molested him for four years. The only thing that stopped it from continuing was that his uncle was killed in a bar fight.

Bambi had read over two hundred books on child molestation and several books on PTSD. She realized that many of the wounded men they were recruiting would need counseling, once they had been through the upgrade. Just because their bodies had been repaired and enhanced, didn't mean they were whole. Their souls had been injured as well as their bodies and they would need nurturing, before the warriors were complete humans again, albeit upgraded ones.

Max had his own set of issues, which went back to his earliest days of combat. Young soldiers have no idea what a true warrior like Max had gone through, to survive and become a General. The man had seen his share of broken and twisted friends lying on the battlefield. But he had fared well, in dealing with it.

When she mentioned that to him, he told her, "I don't know why, but some people are better at handling reality and grief than others. I've been lucky to be able to distance myself from the grief and deal with the immediate situation. The decisions I made usually saved lives and I felt pretty good about that."

Mary had surprised Bambi. Her love for Wayne was powerful and her fear of losing him was too. She acted as though she had it under control, but there was an underlying terror, whenever she thought of Wayne going into combat.

After the upgrade, Bambi brought it up with her and Mary talked about it, saying, "I haven't had anyone to talk to about this since he made squadron commander. All the other wives looked to me for support. So, I had to suck it up and soldier on, like a good Marine commander's wife. But every time his plane left the flight deck, I knew he was in danger. Hell, every landing is a controlled crash, as they say."

They talked frequently and Mary made Bambi promise to remain quiet about her fears. Bambi promised, but only if Mary would promise to talk about her fears with Wayne and to listen to his fears. Mary was very perceptive and she gasped, when Bambi said it that way.

"Oh my God, I've been so selfish. I should have known he had plenty of things to fear. What are they, Bambi? If I know, I can get him to talk about them."

Bambi commed, _I won't do that, Mary. I must maintain my integrity with everyone. In this regard, I'm like a Catholic Priest. I have heard his confession and I am bound to remain silent and keep it between the two of us._

The small band of warriors spent the next few days winding their way to Earth. Bambi sent a few of the huge, self-propelled mining robots out to find precious metals, in the asteroid field. She assured Mike that they would not be sending any signal, until she pinged them, upon their return. So, there was no reason to worry about triggering a Sauran beacon. In the meantime, the robots would identify those bodies that had the various resources they needed.

Everyone practiced on their comming ability. It was Mary who asked about transmission range.

Bambi explained, _On the Mother Ship, we will always have comm inside and out to about two hundred kilometers, without the use of a repeater. With a repeater, you can be thousands of kilometers away, but you'd risk revealing your location. Comm between upgrades is approximately thirty kilometers. But, we will have the benefit of boosted comm transmissions through the shuttles._

I've brought along a few tiny satellites, which we'll place near existing ones to hide their presence. Once they're in orbit, we'll have comm over the entire planet and be able to comm each other, no matter where we are on Earth, because the satellites are designed to pick up and enhance comm. I don't think it would be a good idea to mention that to the President, not at first, anyway.

The best comm will take place when there is line of sight availability. We can tight beam anything we want, and no one could intercept the comm. Most of the time, there could be some detectable radiation, although it's of a type your people haven't considered as practical, just yet. Your military might be able to find it, but I doubt it. If they do, they would probably dismiss it as random wave propagation, due to some gravitic anomaly. The various broadcasts coming from your planet are quite heavy and contribute to the confusion.

Comm trans can't be altered, but it can be jammed, if the enemy knows what he's doing, and the Saurans do. The ship and shuttle are partially shielded against it. But if you're caught out away from the surface of the ship, or on a planet, it is possible to have the signal blocked by a jammer.

Mary said, "Bambi, you give such precise answers to my questions. I love that about you."

Bambi sweetly responded, "Thank you, Major Hurst."

After several hours of discussion about scientific realities, Bambi and Mary were developing a warm relationship, which pleased Mike.

He gave last minute instructions. "We all think at lighting speeds now and can process events far faster than ever before. So, I want everyone to stay in constant touch with Bambi. She will monitor each of us and if there is an event that jeopardizes one of us, the others will be notified by her. It will be important to ignore that problem, as you continue with your own mission.

"The only reason I want you all to be in the loop is that I might need to send you somewhere else and it will save precious seconds if you are already aware of the circumstances. Just lock the reports away in a separate mental compartment and don't let them interfere with what you're doing. If you are needed for a rescue mission, you will be commed by me immediately. You people are too valuable to lose."

He looked over his little group of warriors and asked, "Are there any questions?"

Silence. They had hashed out every scenario they could think of and they were as ready as they could be. Al was already in the large shuttle and would be the first to begin his assignment.

Hey guys, I just had a ping from one of the passive outer beacons I placed. There's a Sauran Transport, passing by and he's pinged our ship. I sent a comm back to it; using the standard Sauran security code indicating everything is OK.

They pinged back that they wouldn't be stopping, but that an important shipment was going to be stopping by, in thirteen months. It would consist of a transport that's twice our size and two escorts. You can think of them as corvettes. They are fast and heavily armed for their size.

This small convoy must be important, because Saurans don't send an escorted transport through a safe zone and we are considered a safe zone.

That's all I got for you. But one thing for sure, when they arrive, they'll want our Senior Pilot to pay his respects by visiting their ship. That is common practice for the Saurans. It is a chance for both to exchange information on what they've heard about other parts of the galaxy. That visit is going to be hard for us to do, because Jo fried our Senior Pilot's brain.

With the Commanding officer's permission, I'm going to have four more beacons sent much farther out. They'll monitor the area around the four most likely places for the convoy to unfold. When they do, the beacon will send a tight beam to the next series of beacons, and then to the Mother Ship. We'll have better notification that way.

Mike asked, "What do you mean by unfold?"

It's a space thing. The details are complicated, and I feel it's best if I explain later, when we're not about to assault your planet. If we live through this, I'll tell ya, OK?

"OK."

Chapter 15

In a calm steady tone, Mike announced, "All right everyone, let's stay focused. What we're about to do is vital for all of us. We've got time to plan for the arrival of that convoy. And for God's sake, don't mention this to anyone on the planet. We don't want to cause a panic.

"Do your jobs. Get the people we need on board. Then we can deal with the next event and I promise you we will deal with it. There is always going to be a next event, so we'd better get used to it."

Everyone indicated their agreement, as Max leaned over and whispered, "Nice little speech, Mike. You handled that like a pro."

"Thanks Max."

Bambi had made some adjustments to the large shuttle, which enhanced its stealthy qualities. She explained that if they approached the Earth slowly, the shuttle probably would not be noticed, because it wasn't generating any heat on its skin.

They released Al Benson, in the large shuttle, high above the central area of the United States. It made its way down to an area near Nashville, where a large number of disabled veterans resided, due to the close proximity of the VA hospital nearby. The Pavilion was at the edge of the manicured grounds around the retirement center.

Al had arranged the celebration by making a large donation to a local support group and had been assured that eighty to one hundred vets would be there, most of them missing arms or legs. After being gassed, the non-vets would be taken outside and laid around the outside of the building, at a safe distance. They would be considered lucky survivors of the fire, although none of them would have any memory of escaping the flames.

Four robots that were riding in the back of the storage area would quickly handle the lifting of the vets into the shuttle. They had been altered to handle humans with care, thanks to the padded arms and some reprogramming that Bambi had added. By using micro-drones no bigger than a flea, her over watch would be better than any one person could provide.

At face value, the concept sounded gruesome...kidnapping old veterans and recruiting them for war in outer space. But, when one considered that these men would be refurbished and given new life as whole humans, it seemed to be a fair deal. Of course, they could refuse the opportunity, if they didn't want to join. They'd still have their new bodies, a new ID, and money in the bank.

An invigorated Alphonso Benson walked into the pavilion wearing the uniform of a Master Sergeant. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, which was awfully young for the rank. If anyone asked about that, he would tell them he was older than he looked.

On his shoulders was an improved weapon, which could analyze a targeted human and adjust the potency of the shot, before firing a stun shot. Mike felt this would avoid hitting a weakened old vet with a shot that could possibly kill him. With any luck, Al would never have to use the thing.

The idea was to get in quick and get the operation going. Bambi waited for Al to give her the signal. He walked around, shaking hands and chatting briefly with family members. He was getting caught up in the tales of the old soldiers. He felt at home with them and hadn't had that feeling in a long time.

Bambi broke his happy moment. _Al, come on, will you? We've got to do this thing. Can I pop the gas or not?_

Sorry, Bambi. I guess I got carried away. Go ahead and hit 'em.

Outside of the pavilion, small drones released smoke to simulate a fire. Inside, several small drones had been snuck into the large room, as part of the flower arrangements and other accoutrements of the affair. At Bambi's command, they began pumping an invisible stun gas that would put down everyone in the pavilion, except Al. He had been given an antidote that kept him from being affected.

As he watched, people began to drop, and he was concerned. Some of these people were family members who had come to celebrate with their aging vet relative. Mike had anticipated their presence, but not in such large numbers. The plan had been to place them outside, but with this many people that would leave an awful lot of unaffected attendees, with no memory of what happened.

However, that was not his only concern. He was worried about the length of time it would take for the robots to get all these guys into the shuttle. It was hovering out near the tree line and once the gas had been released, Bambi quickly brought the shuttle near a side entrance. Also, there was only so much room in the shuttle. They had been counting on one hundred men, not an additional eighty or so family members, who weren't even supposed to be there.

Mike broke into Al's thoughts. _I see the problem, Al. Max and I won't meet with the President, for two more days; so, we're on the way to help you out. Just focus on loading the vets first. We'll see about the family members, after their loved ones are on board. Unexpected things happen, so don't sweat it. You haven't done anything wrong._

It didn't take long for Mike to arrive. He had Max help Al load people into the shuttle, as he went inside to begin pulling out those people who would be left outside of the fire and unhurt.

Max commed, _Mike, we can get a hell of a lot more people in here, by stacking them like cord wood. Bambi can reduce the gravity, so they won't be crushed and if there's any harm done, we'll fix them later._

Good thinking Max. Bambi, how are we doing on time and what about the first responders?

We're actually ahead of schedule, but that will change as we continue to load more people than we had prepared for. I personally took the 911 call and told the guy that fire and rescue were on the way. I inserted a glitch in the system, which will explain why the order was never sent to the fire department. When it's safe, I'll send the alarm and the appropriate responders will find a fire that is well under way and beyond their ability to knock down. Tragic!

When the large shuttle took off, it held 97 vets and 34 elderly family members. Mike felt they might be able to recruit a few of them, too. If they weren't interested, they could be returned on the next trip to Earth. At least they would be rejuvenated and in far better condition than they were when they were taken. It wasn't a pretty operation, but it had accomplished the primary task.

As Mike and Max lifted off, the old General said, "By God that felt good. I haven't been on one of these ops since I was a Captain in Venezuela, and no casualties either. You should be proud, young man. Your people have done well."

"I am proud, Max. But we still have three more ops to go. Let's not celebrate too early."

They rode in silence for a while, and then Mike asked, "What were you doing in Venezuela?"

"Need to know, son. Sorry."

Mike knew he could have Bambi check it out, but he didn't want to disturb Max's sense of integrity. How a leader was perceived by his men was very important to every mission. Probing a person's past could drag up unwanted items that could affect that person's perception of the leader and their ability to perform. Mike certainly had a few things he didn't want Bambi to reveal and he imagined everyone else did too.

He focused his thoughts on Wayne. His mission would take place tomorrow afternoon and the action part of Mary's mission would be the following morning, although she would still have to attend the meeting at Stanford this evening, to hand out the private invitations to her breakfast meeting the next morning.

Just about the same time the shuttle put on a show for the old fighter pilots, he and Max would be entering the Camp David complex in Maryland.

It was located near the Pennsylvania border, in Catoctin Mountain Park, about 60 miles northwest of Washington D.C. They would set down on the outskirts of the park, where Bambi had arranged for a standard government sedan to be available for their use. It just made sense to drive up to the camp entrance in a dark vehicle with government plates.

They knew there would be several checkpoints, where their faces would be put through a facial recognition program, as well as their finger and palm prints and a retinal scan. The results of those would be checked against an existing file of DIA representatives who were authorized to see the President. Bambi had all those bases covered. In a variety of databases, she had set them up with IDs that presented the agents with unprecedented access to nearly any government complex. Technically speaking, their security clearance nearly exceeded the President's.

Bambi had a tiny drone fly over the field where Wayne would be entertaining the aging fighter pilots. They would be shown the small shuttle flying around, doing impossible maneuvers, such as flying backward and hovering. Then, for the coup de gras, it would disappear before their eyes. It would reappear in the empty hanger, where they would be allowed to get a closer look. That's when Bambi would hit them with the gas.

In stealth mode, the shuttle dropped Wayne off a few hundred feet away from the hangar, in a parking lot. He walked in from the front door and out into the hanger proudly wearing the Eagles of a full Colonel in the Air Force.

"Gentlemen, I wish to thank you for attending this brief little affair. We're going to show you a new aircraft. It will be the replacement for all space craft going to near orbit and as far out as the moon. There is a smaller counterpart that will become the new generation fighter, which is several times more capable than anything on the planet today." At least that much was true.

One old guy sounded off, "Hey, it's hot and I don't want to be out too long. So where is this damn thing?"

Wayne smiled and pointed out of the hanger. "Why sir, it's right there."

They all looked out but saw nothing. "Well, where the hell is it?"

"There Gentlemen."

Bambi brought it out of stealth mode and the men got their first good look at the shuttle, as it silently hovered over the tarmac.

"Holy shit! It's about time we perfected that camo ability. We've been hearing about it for years. It's a nice trick, but couldn't you have made the thing a bit more attractive?"

Another man said, "Yeah, it's ugly as hell. It looks like a flying brick. There's nothing aerodynamic about it, at all."

Wayne had seen the shuttle a few times in the hanger bay on the Mother Ship. In that environment, it seemed normal. Now, he was getting his own first real look at the outside of the thing in broad daylight on Earth, and he had to agree, it was ugly. It was about eighty feet long with no wings and no visible way to control pitch, yaw or roll. Of course, while it could fly in atmosphere, it was primarily a space going craft.

He knew about the addition of the two forward mounted weapons, but they were nearly undetectable, unless one knew what to look for. Wayne was impressed by the shuttle, but the old veteran pilots just kept the complaints coming.

Bambi commed, _Screw 'em. Let's skip the show and just gas 'em now._

Wayne shot back, _No. Give them their show. They'll remember it, when we wake them up and the memory will have a positive effect on their decision to join us._

The shuttle began to move straight up. That wasn't new, but when it rolled over and over, at sixty revolutions per minute, interest quickly began to build. Bambi put it through an impossible series of maneuvers, before she had it disappear, as it raced right at them with incredible speed. There were several gasps, when it went completely invisible.

When it reappeared, it was hovering inside the back of the hanger.

"So how fast can this brick fly?"

Wayne grinned, "Oh about five times the speed of sound in atmosphere and twenty-eight times the speed of sound in outer space."

Hey, it's a hell of a lot faster than that and you know it.

Yes, I do. But these men would have trouble believing that. So, I threw them a few numbers that are amazing, yet believable.

Pretty smart kid.

Kid?

Yeah. Your Mike's kid ain't ya?

You're becoming too human, Bambi, and a little disrespectful.

Sorry. No insult intended. I'm just trying to keep the moment light. I'll hit them with the gas now.

The gas didn't work as well as he had hoped. The wind was up, and it blew in circular flurries, inside the hanger. Some of the gas blew away too quickly, leaving a few old pilots semiconscious. With reluctance, he stunned them, and the robots loaded the men aboard. The few airmen who had been assigned to keep an eye on them were also stunned and left behind.

It was awkward, but for the most part, mission accomplished.

Mike sent his son a comm. _Well done, Colonel. I'm proud of you. You showed those gentlemen respect and tolerated their insults, without losing your cool. Let's hope the next two missions go off as well._

Thanks daddy.

You can stop that shit right now. The next time we're on a mission and you call me daddy, I'll bust you down to private and have you cleaning toilets.

Ah, there's the dad I've grown to know and love.

As the old pilots were being loaded up, Mike and Max were just driving up to the main entrance of Camp David.

They showed their IDs and were told to get out of the car. A Marine held a mirror beneath the vehicle, checking for a bomb or anything that looked out of the ordinary. Two dogs were brought forward and they sniffed around the outside, and then inside the vehicle.

While that was done, Mike and Max had to walk through a metal detector, after emptying their pockets. When asked why they weren't carrying a firearm Mike told the guard, "Why bother? You gentlemen would just take it and hold it for us, until we left. It just makes the entire process easier; don't you think?"

The next checkpoint was at a crossroad, a few hundred meters away, they were asked why they were here and whom they intended to see.

Mike was driving so he answered. "We have been sent to see the man who is currently residing in the Aspen Lodge." That was the Presidents home, when he was on site. He and his family were the only people who stayed at this lodge. There were other lodges for guests, but it was rare for someone else to remain overnight in the same house as the leader of the free world. It made the Secret Service quite nervous.

They turned right and headed for the next crossroad. Before they got there, Ten Marines and a Lieutenant Colonel blocked their path. The car was surrounded, and the Marines had their rifles pointed at them. They were ordered out of their car.

The Colonel yelled at them, "Who the hell are you, and don't tell me you're with the DIA, because I know that's bullshit. I talked with your boss and he never heard of you and he damn sure didn't send you."

Quickly, Mike commed Bambi. _I find it hard to believe a Lieutenant Colonel has the head of the DIA on his speed dial. What's the deal?_

I'm looking. Here we go. He has does have a friend who is on the intelligence staff of the DIA and he called him about fifteen minutes ago, complaining that he should have been notified of this meeting. He pointed out that it was his responsibility to protect the President, when he was at Camp David.

The guy he talked to is a Navy Commander, named Thornton Thompson. People call him TT, behind his back, because he's a real little pisser. It seems to me that both men are very turf protective. I suspect that neither man will advance beyond his current posting and he knows it.

This Lieutenant Colonel's name is Fred Lumpkin. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have some long lingering resentment at being teased as a kid, about his last name.

Thanks, Bambi. I know how to handle this guy

Mike gave the man a small innocent grin and said, "Colonel, I'm sorry you weren't brought into the loop regarding our visit. It was a very serious oversight on the part of the director's staff, and I intend to have it looked into." (He had just made the man aware that his buddy at DIA could be in the shit, because of this outburst.).

"However, more than anyone, I know you can appreciate that when the President needs to be briefed on an urgent matter and that info is coming from the DIA, then it must be vital to American interests. When these matters are most serious, it is held closely at the highest levels. Colonel Lumpkin, that's why we were sent, rather than an electronic communication that could be intercepted. We're here to brief him on something that is extremely important and needs his immediate attention. With all due respect, Colonel, that's all I can say."

The man looked up at him and Mike could see that he was pondering his options. At this point they were few. Mike wondered how a man like him could worm his way into a cushy post like this one. It disgusted him that the Military had more than its share of benchwarmers and martinets.

As the Colonel considered how to handle this, he looked Mike and Max up and down. "Damn, they sure sent a couple of big guys to deliver the goods. You boys are huge." He hung his head, and the told them, "Well, OK then. As long as this doesn't happen again."

"No sir, it won't I promise you. And I'll have the failure to properly notify you investigated, as soon as I report to the director, or perhaps I should have Commander Thompson look into this incident."

The use of the Colonel's friend's name spurred the man to react quickly.

"No, no, that won't be necessary. I don't want some stupid damn clerk getting busted, for lack of a phone call. Get going. Don't keep the big guy waiting."

Mike thought, the DIA doesn't have stupid clerks. But, apparently, they do have at least one damned stupid Commander.

As they drove the remaining few blocks to the President's lodge, Max told him, "Mike, you would have made a great political hack. You know just how to do the Washington shuffle. You played that guy like a fiddle."

"Max, let's give credit where credit is due. I couldn't have done anything, without the info Bambi gave me."

"True enough. But she didn't tell you how to handle him. That was all Sergeant Michael Hurst."

They were stopped short, by a polite Marine and escorted on foot to the lodge, where John Oldfield met them at the door.

Mike called out to the man, "Mr. Oldfield, thank you for greeting us. I'm Mike Hurst and this is Max Kolbe." The chief of staff showed no surprise that Mike knew him by sight. Most power hungry people working around Washington made it a point to be able to recognize the man who could provide access to the President.

Oldfield's eyebrows went up, at the mention of Max's name, and then said, "There was an old Army General by that name, as I recall. But of course, that couldn't be you. He's probably dead by now."

Max replied, "Yes, he was my great uncle and a wonderful man."

Oldfield looked as though he disagreed but kept his opinion to himself.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Camp David. The President and I are anxious to hear what you've been sent here to say. Please come with me."

Oldfield led them around the circular driveway and up to the front of the rather plain looking one story house. The wood construction was unimpressive and painted a dull gray. Over the front door was a simple sign that read, "ASPEN."

Bambi, there has got to be better security here than I'm seeing.

There is. You really need to practice with your body, like your eyes for instance. You've been on several cameras, since you entered the property. There are two snipers who have both of you in their sights. You would have seen them, if you had used your infrared option for your eyes. Oh, and you probably would have seen the guy down in a hole to the left of the front door and another one to the right, also with rifles on you.

There is a small shed, fifty meters to the left of the lodge. It has a riding lawn mower parked in front, but it's all fake. That shed has two agents inside monitoring the camera feeds.

Mike could almost feel the presence of the cameras on him and armed agents hidden nearby. It's as it should be for the President, he thought.

The chief of staff led them through the front door, and they found themselves in the living room. Geez, he thought, there isn't even a foyer. I was expecting something a bit grander than this. After all, this guy is the President.

### Aspen Lodge

They walked straight through the living room, across a lovely sun room and out onto the upper terrace. The President, Robert Stassen, was on the phone chatting quietly. He held up a finger of one hand, without looking at them, indicating that he would be with them shortly.

Max Commed, _That's a typical move to signal that we're not as important as some phone call. I'm surprised that a man who had risen to the highest position in the land would feel the need for such mid-level bullshit._

Bambi added, _He is on an important call. He's talking to the chef about dinner._

After putting down the phone, he looked up and coldly said, "Well, what's so important."

Mike spoke first. "Mr. President, we are tasked with explaining a serious threat to our country and I'm afraid it's for your ears only." He looked over at John Oldfield.

The President waved his hand, as he told them, "This is my chief of staff, gentlemen. He hears everything. If you insist on his leaving, I'll just tell him about it later, after you have been dismissed."

Mike commed, _Bambi, gas 'em all except the President._

Dozens of drones, so small they seemed like gnats, went to work hovering near the heads of John Oldfield and all the Marines and agents who were on overwatch. In three seconds, they were all down.

We are good to go, General. I'll keep a close watch on anyone else I see.

The President looked shocked, when he saw his chief of staff crumble in a heap. Before he could react, Mike pulled a single shot weapon from his left sleeve. It was one of Al Benson's ideas, a miniature version of the gel gun, which Bambi had crafted. He aimed it at Bob Stassen and fired a burst of the goo into the man's neck.

The shock on the President's face was understandable. He thought he had been assassinated. The man was paralyzed, but otherwise, he was awake and fully aware of his surroundings.

Max ran over to him and caught him, before he could be injured, as he fell. Mike was right behind him and took up a position on the other side. They carefully placed him in a chair, as Mike assured the frightened man, "Mr. President, I am truly sorry we had to do it this way. But we couldn't come up with any other way to make you understand what we're about to tell you is true."

Stassen's eyes glared at him, but otherwise the man was unable to move.

Max said, "Sir, your chief of staff and all of your Marines and Secret Service agents have been knocked out. Unlike you, they are completely anesthetized. When they awake, they will have no memory of this. You will."

Kolbe looked at Mike and nodded. Mike began, "Sir, we could not have done any of this without the aid of items we have received from an alien. And yes, I'm talking about an extra-terrestrial...ET if you will.

"I'm going to bring him here in a moment, but first, let me bring you up to date."

He proceeded to explain some of the details about his being kidnapped by a Thorian, who had been a slave to Saurans. Then he spoke of the situation, regarding the Saurans and how they had been retrieving humans for determining their worth as slaves.

He explained how it seemed that once these Saurans realized that a ship of theirs was missing in our solar system, they would probably see humans as being at fault and destroy the Earth. If the human race was to survive, they needed to act now, in order to have any chance at all.

"That we don't have years to get all the world governments to work out their differences is obvious, sir. Also, you can't just announce this, because it would trigger a worldwide panic and probably start a series of small regional wars, which could easily envelope all of us in a planet wide conflict.

"What I'm proposing is to build an Army of super soldiers to man spacecraft, that we must build somehow. I want you to take a good look at me. I am Sergeant First Class Michael Hurst and I'm seventy-one years old. This gentleman is Major General Maximilian Kolbe and he is eighty years old. Both of us have received the benefit of being refurbished, so to speak. Also, we've received significant upgrades to our bodies, thanks to the amazing ability of alien technology.

"If you look up my record, you will learn that I lost both legs in Iraq. As you can see, I have them back. This is but a small example of what we can offer the people of Earth. As you well know, nothing is truly free, and this medical improvement comes at a price."

He went on to explain the basics of the painful process he and Max had gone through. As he did, he began to detect a glimmer of understanding in the man's eyes. Now that the President seemed to believe what he was told thus far, Mike felt it was time to introduce Jo and the shuttle.

With Max's help, he carefully sat Bob Stassen up in his chair and turned it to the large lawn and putting green behind the lodge.

"Mr. President, watch the lawn and you will see an alien space shuttle. On board, is the Alien to whom we owe so much."

Bambi.

On it.

As though someone had thrown a light switch, the shuttle appeared before the leader of the free world. A hatch opened and down walked Jo, hopping the last two feet to the ground. The President's eyes followed him, with awe and fear.

Once Jo had reached the upper terrace, he bowed Japanese style, and said, "I would ask you to take me to your leader, but you are he."

Even in his paralyzed state, the humor registered in the President's eyes. Mike was glad that the irony of the alien's comment hadn't gone unnoticed.

Mike gave Max a nod and he pulled out a tiny plastic squeeze syringe. He shoved it into Stassen's arm and told him, "This will release you from the paralysis, sir. The others of your staff have been treated with a different chemical. In a few hours, they'll begin to recover; but remember, they will be very confused and concerned because they will have no memory of this."

Mike sat down directly across from the President, Max to his left and Jo to his right. Bambi choreographed this seating arrangement. She said that by placing Mike in the center facing Stassen, he would establish himself as the key member of their little delegation, and that a man with Stassen's experience would appreciate the subtle message.

They waited, as feeling and mobility began to return for the man. He rubbed his shoulders and said, "Was this really the only way to go about this?"

Mike spoke for them. "Yes sir, I believe it was. We could think of no other way to get on top of this quickly. Going through all the normal channels could have taken weeks, if not months. And God only knows how many people would have leaked the reality of our presence to the press, by then."

Max, always pushing through the bullshit, said, "Mr. President we don't have time to be cute about this. The entire human race may cease to exist in less than two years, if we don't muscle up and prepare for a war that has only been conceived of in science fiction novels."

Bob Stassen was no fool. "You've shown me an ugly space craft with really good stealth qualities and a guy who could pass for an alien. So, how do I know that this isn't just some well planned scheme to get me to do something crazy?"

Jo took that one. "You don't, sir. This initial meeting has been to introduce ourselves and to open your mind to the possibility that what we have said is real. We talked about a way to garner your interest beyond the importance of saving humanity. So, we have a gift for the American people, which they don't need to know about right now.

"We want you to notify the commander of Fort Knox that he will find a half-ton palette load of gold, waiting for him, in a field near Baker Rd., just north of Godwin Army Airfield. He'll need to get it into the vault; after he inspects it to be sure it's legitimate. We are able to provide quite a bit more of that to America and a few other nations."

"What other nations?"

Mike told him, "We think it would be good to have the heads of a few trustworthy nations, as the first to join us. We have selected English speaking nations, at first, the UK, Australia, Canada and New Zealand. After we have increased the size of our staff and established a training organization, we will begin to include others, such as South Korea, Japan, the Philippines, South Africa, Germany, France, The Netherlands, Poland, Spain and Italy."

The president held up his hands angrily, "Hold on, just wait a minute. Those countries are our allies, but we don't really get along as well as you might think. They'll all want their own Generals to have a spot in the command structure. These things take time to work out.

"And another thing. Assuming I do believe you, and I'm not saying that I do, I'm not about to call up the Prime Minister of Great Britain and tell him we need to fight ET. He'll think I'm nuts."

Mike smiled. "That's certainly true sir, but if we tell those gentleman and lady, they'll believe it, especially when each of their countries receive a large load of gold and any other precious metal they want."

Max jumped in. "Mr. President, there is so much more we can offer, in areas such as security, the likes of which you can't imagine. How do you think we got in here? It was easy for us, because of our ability to bend and twist every piece of software you've got. There is no database that we can't hack into. How would the Pentagon like to see the entire Chinese Military plans for controlling the South China Sea, or Iran's plans for their nuclear weapons, once they acquire them? Better still, what if we could eliminate the nuclear weapons in the North Korean arsenal and the Iranian's and the Pakistani's and even the Russian's for that matter. Does that sound attractive to you?"

Stassen shook his head. "That's all well and good, if in fact you can do that. But in doing it, you could start a war without nuclear weapons. Think of the fear in our country, if we lost our nukes, and we're a whole lot less likely to freak out than the Russians would be. They'd go completely crazy. These things must be handled delicately, by experienced diplomats, not well meaning military types. And, these decisions will need to be approved by the various representatives of the different countries.

"We are a country of laws. I can't just approve what I think you're suggesting, without congressional approval."

Mike was disappointed, but not surprised.

When he stood, Max and Jo did also. "Mr. President, we'll be in touch." He looked at Jo, who held out a portable device, which could be used to access the communication units the upgrades used, the comm.

Jo held up the small comm unit, about two by four inches. It could easily be mistaken for an old cell phone. "Mr. President, this small comm unit can call us at any time. It is always on and when you call, we will be listening. It is not a means by which we can spy on you. We already can do that, without using something so large and cumbersome as this monstrosity. We will never reveal anything we overhear, unless you are in danger, which is highly unlikely to happen, because we have your back now. You are not under our control, but you are under our protection."

Jo held his arms away from his body, palms up and said, "This is certainly an awkward beginning, but it was necessary. By the way, I'm told your wife has been diagnosed with an ailment that we can cure. We are able to do so; without the brutal methods your physicians suggest. We will return at your request and when we do, we'll bring you a med unit, which can provide a complete recovery for your wife, Connie. By the way, it will take care of her diabetes too."

Stassen looked at Jo in wonder, as Mike was thrown on his back, when a bullet him dead center in the chest.

Bambi cried out, _Sniper, I've got him._

But, before she could neutralize the man, he was able to get off another shot, putting down Jo.

A loud crack and a sizzle came from a group of trees, four hundred meters away.

Max was holding Mike in his arms, as the president hid behind a chair. Mike looked up at him and said, "Ouch. That hurt, but I'm all right. What about Jo?"

"Like you, I have significant pain, but I'm going to be OK. Thank you, Bambi."

You're welcome. Sorry I missed the guy, earlier. He didn't give up his position until after the meeting started. I suspect the absence of any response on his radio and the presence of Jo got him thinking he should take a shot. It was probably standard procedure to use his best judgment when any of his fellow security people have been put down.

Mike stood up and said, "Yeah, I imagine that you're right, Bambi. What about the sniper; is he OK."

I'm afraid not, General Hurst. I fried him, in my excitement and my desire to protect you guys. I hate to admit it, but I wanted to hurt him for hurting you. A computer wouldn't have felt anything and might have just stunned him. I'm truly sorry, Mike.

"It's all right Bambi, I'd have done the same thing. You had to be sure he wasn't going to get off another shot."

The President was beginning to stand and asked, "Who's Bambi?"

Max explained, "She's our technical expert and in charge of watching everything for us, and I mean everything. Don't mess with Bambi."

Bob Stassen was a quick study. "So, she's the one who broke through our encrypted security net and handled the operation to subdue my Secret Service men?"

"Yes Mr. President."

Mike looked at Jo and said, "I think it's time we leave and allow the President to think about this."

As they began to walk off the terrace, Stassen said, "Allow me to compliment you on your excellent bullet proof vests."

Mike spun around so quick that it frightened the man and told him, "If I was stark naked that bullet wouldn't have penetrated my skin, although I have to admit it did hurt. The upgrade does that for a warrior. As for the young man who took that shot, he's dead and I sincerely regret the overreaction to my being shot. It means little now, but in the future, we will see to that man's family and provide them the true details of this unfortunate incident. His family has the right to know that he acted as a hero."

He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to remain calm and failing. "Mr. President, I might as well tell you now, so you can begin to contemplate the reality of what is happening and what needs to happen. I am a proud American and so is Max Kolbe. But we won't allow the political machines of two hundred countries to screw this up.

"Look, sir, it's like this. We are going to build a space army and navy that does not...NOT...answer to any one government. We will listen to all complaints and all suggestions. They will be quickly acted on, or tossed out, by our staff. We don't give a damn about anything but the continued survival of the planet Earth. As for international politics...fuck it."

He turned and left, as the President threw out more questions, which Mike ignored. When he entered the shuttle, Bambi said, "I thought that went well."

Angrily, he simply replied, "Yeah."

When Max mentioned that his clothing was a form of armor, he said, "I wanted him to find all of this believable. He saw me get shot, by a powerful weapon and survive, as no normal human could have. It provided a demonstration of one benefit from the upgrade process, thanks to alien technology that would be available to all warriors who join us. I'm hoping he'll see that it's better to have us as friends than enemies."

Chapter 16

Mike went straight to the tiny restroom on the shuttle and sat on the throne to try and calm down. He had Bambi do a mental replay of the video of his visit with Bob Stassen. He definitely could have handled that better. The problem was, Mike believed in what he was doing, and it made him a fanatic. When the President didn't show the same concern for the Earth that Mike felt, it angered him. If he had given it some thought before his presentation, he would have seen that there was no other way for the President to react.

Every day, people were running things by the President and, although his staff filtered most of it, ultimately, he had to decide the difference between what was pertinent and what was bullshit. The President had become very skeptical of all things that were offered as new and exciting.

If Mike attempted the same approach with all the Presidents and Prime Ministers they wanted to bring on board, it could turn into a disaster. They had to do a better job of preparing those people for what he had to say.

He began a back and forth with Bambi about it. All of them had been concerned that there was no good way to get the facts out, without being interrupted with a barrage of questions and probably insults. They could deal with specific questions after the leaders had some facts to go on, even if they didn't believe them.

When he was alone with Bambi, she usually spoke out loud, rather than comm. She said she noticed his blood pressure and heart rate seemed calmer when she communicated as a human would.

"Mike, I think we're going to have to go with Mary's plan. We need to make a video that explains what has happened thus far. They won't be able to interrupt a video with nonsense questions and accusations. At the end of it, we can explain what it is we need from them to defend the planet. And we must emphasize that we'll do it off planet, so it won't affect the balance of power on Earth."

"Bambi, we can't tell them everything, at first. We don't dare risk letting them know how few of us there are. We'll give them just enough to whet their appetite for more info and more gifts. I know they'll like the added wealth, but real enticements will come in the form of things like a cure for cancer, nerve regeneration and new limb growth. They can take credit for it, by claiming it was accomplished through the efforts of the allied English speaking countries, and they'll look like heroes for it."

Mike continued to think out loud, as he said, "Then, in the next video, we'll hit them with your plan for a training base in the asteroid belt. Each country can recruit for us, by seeking volunteers for a top secret military mission that will require them to be away for two years. When the men report, they'll be put to sleep and taken to the new base. By the way, have you any idea where that might be?"

"Yes. I've been reviewing possible sites in the outer belt, in Jupiter's orbit, and I've found four that are relatively close together. I've already started the robots working on one of them for us. Those robots have discovered gold on one and a lot of iron, as well as a few other resources we're going to need. Those four asteroids can be hollowed out and restructured by the big celestial mining robots we have on board the Mother Ship. As soon as we return to the ship, I'll have the large shuttle reloaded and sent out to get the project moving a lot faster."

Mike nodded and mumbled, "Good, good."

"General, we have an awful lot of difficulties to overcome and one of the biggest is going to be transportation. Mary has been reviewing the maintenance records for the shuttles, especially the large one. Those records include complete design documents, which are needed for keeping up with maintenance. She thinks we can manufacture our own, now that we've identified some resources in the belt.

"At first, they would be very basic and lack all of the bells and whistles. They wouldn't have the speed capability, or the stealth of the original Sauran models. But they could be constructed rather quickly. Once the fabricator has her design downloaded, I believe it can begin pumping out one a month. Just one would double the number of men we could bring up and, as more became available, we could make substantial progress on the asteroid.

"One of our other big problems is the amount of time it takes to move around in the solar system. I realize we are way faster than anything the humans have been able to put out here. But by experienced space traveler standards, it's terrible. The big hold up is our fear of the beacons discovering our movement. However, I may have found a solution to that, thanks to some TV shows I've seen.

"It's a method that's long been known, but not used for hundreds of years by the Saurans. I don't think they would be looking for it from such neophytes in space, as humans. It's going to be tricky and if I'm wrong, it could trigger an interstellar alert to the Saurans. That's why it's your call, General."

She always went into a formal, polite voice, when something important was going down. Normally, he liked that. This time it scared him.

He grimaced and told her, "Well. Let's hear it."

"Sir, I've been looking at the downloads from the beacons and I made a copy of the area of space they record. If I can hack in through the beacon security, I can set the beacons to replay the area of space we need to use. If a Sauran ship looks at the beacon's record, it will only see the last ten months of recordings, before we began running around. It's a nice long record so they are unlikely to notice that what they're seeing is a video loop. Do you think that might work?"

"Yes, it just might."

He sat there thinking about it, and then asked, "How sure are you that you can do this without setting this part of space on fire?"

"Sir, these beacons were already in place, when I got here. When I checked them upon arrival, which is standard operating procedure (SOP), I used an old code to bring up the record in their files. That code had no problem giving me access. However, just because these seemed to be old beacons, doesn't mean they haven't had a recent security upgrade."

He was getting irritable and still hadn't calmed from his misjudgment with the Presidential meeting. "Well, can you do it or not, damn it?"

"I believe so, sir. I'll know better when I enter the beacons protection file and tweak it before I try changing anything. If I don't trigger anything, then I'll proceed and we'll have more than just a back door into the beacons. We'll be able to control what a Sauran ship sees from them, if we have to fight them."

He rubbed his chin, as he gave it some thought. "OK, Bambi. Let's give it a try. If we set off an alarm, will you know it?"

"Yes sir."

He had a degree in computer science, but he only obtained it to get a job, after losing his legs. He never really pushed to become an expert or to learn more, once he was employed. His area of expertise was in managing people, not computers. Still, Bambi had initiated a thought stream for him, and it wiggled around in the forefront of his thoughts.

He asked, 'Hey, sweetie pie, did I understand you correctly, the Saurans will check on the beacons when they arrive?"

"Yes sir; that's SOP."

"If you're already inside the beacon brains, could you put some sort of virus in there that would transfer to visiting Sauran ships?"

"Doubtful, sir. The anti-viral software on a Sauran ship is very touchy and most Senior Pilots have their computers set to change entire virus prevention programs fairly often. It would be common for them to initiate a change, as soon as they entered the area."

"But, would they do that before or after they checked the beacons?"

"It's hard to say, sir. That's always up to the Senior Pilot. But, if I could get a virus in the beacons and a visiting ship did pick up my virus, it won't do us any good, unless the shooting starts. We could be dead, before the virus has a chance to engage."

"Bambi, I trust you to do the best you can. I want every advantage we can muster. First, tweak the damn beacons and let me know how that goes. We'll take it one step at a time."

"Yes sir, one step at a time it is."

He walked out of the small toilet to find Max and Jo standing close by and staring at him. He laughed. "Damn, can't a guy take a piss?"

Max told him, "Bambi wouldn't let us listen in, but she couldn't keep us from hearing through the thin metal door. It's like a tympanic membrane. It resonates nicely so we heard most of your conversation."

Without humor, Jo said, "If you had urinated, we would have heard the toilet clean itself."

Ignoring Jo's comment, he asked, "So, what do you two think?"

Max had a small grin, as he said, "I really like the idea of making the videos and we should emphasize that each head of state receives a copy. They'll want to show it to their senior military people."

Mike agreed, "Yeah, and I'm OK with that, as long as they keep it to no more than two or three guys. All they need to do is tell their military people that this project is a top-secret combined operation with allied governments and they don't want to alarm any of the non-allied countries. Bambi can keep an eye on them and if some one attempts to circumvent the process, we can have that head of state deal with it. If it's severe, we'll do whatever we must to keep the lid on."

He paused, and then asked, "Got that, Bambi?"

"Got It."

"Good. Now, what about the idea of breaking into the beacon security? If we can pull it off, it could prove to be quite beneficial in our first engagement with the Saurans."

Jo looked nervous, or at least Mike thought he did. He still had a lot to learn about Thorian body language and facial expressions.

The alien said, "I must urge Bambi to use extreme caution. If she fails and a warning massage goes out, then we won't be dealing with a small Sauran convoy. We could be facing a task force of a hundred warships."

Max was aghast. "Really? Are you sure? They would actually respond with such force?"

Jo awkwardly nodded, trying his best to emulate the human method of a positive response. "Yes, I believe so. I've told you over and over, they are very cautious, and they don't like taking risks. So, when they respond, they will send overwhelming force to ensure victory. It is their way."

Mike uttered, "Well shit."

He and Max exchanged glances and he said, "It seems to me that we're damned if we do and damned if we don't. The only real difference is WHEN we must face a fleet of that size, not whether or not we ever do. The advantage we gain, if Bambi can do it, will be significant for us."

He looked away, as he made his final decision.

"Bambi, do it. And you be damn careful. Go as slow as you have to and let us know as soon as you have some results."

"Yes sir, General."

"Gentlemen, let's go brief my son and his wife."

Wayne was very concerned about setting off a trip wire, as he called it. Mary, on the other hand, ignored that possibility and seemed thrilled that her idea of making videos for the various heads of state was being taken seriously and about to be acted on.

She told them, "I have a rough design for a new slightly smaller space fighter that won't have the range of the ones in storage. It will be slower and have only one plasma gun. It can carry four homemade missiles in its tiny cargo area and they will be autonomous. In other words, fire and forget. I have no idea how effective they'll be. But it's something we can shoot at them and we can manufacture them in large numbers. Also, this fighter can carry a pilot, or be used as an autonomous drone."

Max observed, "We're coming up with a lot of stuff that needs to be fabricated. I doubt we have that kind of manufacturing capability"

Mary smiled, "No, but the Earth does. The fighters will need some unavailable parts that are made of special material, which the Earth has never seen and doesn't know how to produce. Our fabricators will make those parts for them and we'll deliver them, as needed. The fighters can be built at Lockheed's skunk works. It's secure and the men building them are used to keeping their mouths shut. Same for the missiles."

Mike asked, "What about the possibility of making more space fighters like the ones in storage?"

"We have the fighters. Unfortunately, we don't have a full design program for them. We only have what amounts to a maintenance manual. I'm still looking that over, but don't get your hopes up. Maybe when the other scientists get a look at the manual, they can add to our knowledge."

Jo expressed his surprise at her ability to make adjustments to designs. "Mary, it's hard to believe how fast you've been able to produce these new designs. It's given me hope that once the new scientists have been upgraded, they will be able to add a lot to this type of progress."

"All I have is a rough idea of what might be possible, Jo; and I emphasize ROUGH idea."

Mike pointed out, "I know it's too early to realize, for sure, what we might be able to accomplish. Having said that, it is good to see a glimmer of hope. Let's not stomp on it. The scientists we recruit could be one more step toward salvation for the planet."

Mary added, "That will depend on how well tomorrow's operation goes."

Her comment would prove prophetic.

The breakfast seminar was to be held in a hotel conference room, near Stanford University, in Palo Alto, Calif. Once the people had been gassed, they would be transferred out to the shuttle through a side emergency exit. It seemed like the perfect setup.

Mary arrived early and shared breakfast with a few of the early guests and her husband, who was playing security guard. She waited for an additional; ten minutes, allowing any late arrivals to get in before she went to the podium and made her announcement. As she looked out at them, she counted a baker's dozen. She had hoped for more than thirteen people.

"Ladies and gentlemen, because this is a highly classified presentation and concerns the security of the United States of America, we will be locking the doors in two more minutes. This presentation will take approximately twenty minutes and be followed by a Q & A. Anyone who cannot stay for the presentation must leave now. When it has ended, anyone wishing to leave may do so at that time."

Mary had been to a few of these and she was sure that many of the attendees had also. So, she used these words as a standard beginning, which would be the expected procedure by the scientists.

At the two-minute mark, Wayne locked the two entrances and she went back to the podium. Just as she was about to tell Bambi to begin the gas she had the shock of her life.

Mary, Wayne, get down on the floor now. The shit just hit the fan. I don't how or why, but the police are about to bust this party.

No sooner had she commed than the doors burst open, shattering the wood panels and a dozen local police ran in with guns drawn, screaming, "Everyone on the floor, NOW, and don't move. This is an unauthorized meeting, by unknown parties and we have reason to believe some of you are in danger."

Mike and Max had been listening through the comm and Mike was the first to respond.

He commed, _Max and I are coming in to help. Wayne and Mary, you are authorized to stun, with superior force, which may or may not prove deadly. Don't question me, just do it. Take down those cops. They can't see or hear the shots, so they'll have no idea who is behind them._

Bambi, hit 'em with the gas.

She told Mike, _It won't be very effective, General, because with the doors open there is enough of a breeze to dilute the gas._

Do it anyway. It's got to take down a few people for us.

Wayne began shooting, but Mary hesitated. After her husband had stunned three officers, a few of the policemen began to fire at him, because he had to raise up to get a clean shot. When Wayne was hit, Mary went ballistic at the sight of her husband being shot and possibly killed. She began taking out cops, with maximum force. Her shots were blowing two inch holes in everyone she shot and she didn't miss, as she made her way over to Wayne.

Just as she reached for him, she was struck four times and went down. Wayne had been knocked down and it hurt where he had been hit, but he was all right otherwise, as the nanites began to do their work on his pain. He crawled to his wife, as the remaining police angrily screamed for everyone to surrender and several of the scientists cried out in fear.

That's when Mike and Max began to cull the police from behind, dropping them quickly with carefully placed stun shots. As soon as the police had been quieted, Mike ran over to Mary and saw that was she in pain yet breathing.

Bambi commed everyone, _She's OK. She's hurt and frightened and a little stunned by the action, but she'll be fine in a few minutes. Her vitals are looking solid and the nanites are already repairing what little damage she incurred._

Mike, cool as a cucumber, commed, _Bambi, hit these people with more gas. Wayne, get Mary into the shuttle. Max, help me start loading these people. Bambi, send in the robots to help us and if there are any more police on the way, let me know._

Yes, sir.

Finally, the gas began working, as Bambi sent individual micro-drones to each scientist and sprayed them. Max and Mike began carrying two people at a time. However, the robots worked rather slowly, or so Mike thought. He would address that with Bambi at a later time.

They dropped the unconscious scientists just inside the door of the shuttle and went back for another trip. Wayne began putting them into med units. Between Max and Mike, they only needed two trips. The robots each made two trips. For the last scientist, Wayne ran out, lifted her carefully, and took her into the shuttle.

Mike told Bambi to go full stealth and take off immediately. As they lifted off, she commed, _There is a swat team on the way, but it won't matter now, because we're already gone, as far as they can tell._

Mike asked, _Bambi, what happened? What caused those cops to show up in such numbers?_

I'm picking up a lot of radio traffic on some interesting frequencies, other than the local police bands. The FBI uses these. It seems that when a mystery woman invited a group of retired scientists to a top secret meeting, the FBI was notified. Someone who Mary invited was apparently still working on some classified project and he was concerned that he had never heard of this woman and that his retired colleagues might be in jeopardy.

So, he made a few calls through his contacts at work and they told the FBI. The Feds checked with DARPA, and several other agencies, none of whom had any knowledge of this meeting.

The FBI was suspicious, but not terribly concerned, as they get several well meaning calls a week. The local FBI office was heavily involved with a major drug investigation and short of people to follow up on this report. They didn't have the time to pursue it, so the FBI notified the local police. They went a little overboard and took it as a terrorist threat against the scientists. They felt that we were either going to kill them or kidnap them.

Max observed, "Well, they were half right. Someone was trying to kidnap them and now those scientists are missing."

Jo suggested that they should try calling the President, but Mike wasn't in the mood to speak him.

Max told them, "If he has done what I suspect he's done, he has a small group of trusted advisors trying to find out anything at all about us and our backgrounds. I'm guessing he has my complete file and Mike's sitting on his desk; and pretty soon he'll have Wayne's and Mary's, too. If those people have half a brain, once they hear about what happened out here, they'll put it all together and realize it was us, trying to grab some brain power."

Mary was upset. "Oh no. They'll never trust us now." She paused, and then asked, "Bambi, are all of the men we shot OK?"

"Not really. A few of them have died."

"Oh dear Lord. I'm so sorry. I know it was me who killed those poor men. I panicked and didn't use reasonable force. When I saw Wayne get shot, I wanted to retaliate. So, I just started blasting."

Mike softly told her, "Mary, you're the only person here who has never had to kill someone. It's not a fun club to join and I'm sorry you've had to become a member. But I was watching, as the event unfolded, and I can tell you that if you hadn't reacted as quickly as you had, those cops may have hit you or Wayne in the head. That could have proved fatal. You did what you had to do, not what you wanted to do."

With tears running down her face she said, "Those were innocent men just doing their jobs. I feel like hell."

Max said, "Good. You wouldn't be the kind of person I'd want on my team, if you thought you had been a hero and felt it was wonderful. I've seen young soldiers brag about getting their first kill, and then fall apart two days later. We're all here for you, young lady. We all know how horrible it is to take a life."

Mike wasn't going to belabor the point. She would have to deal with it and in time she'd learn to accept the necessity for what she had done. He didn't say it, but he felt it was good that she had seen some combat, such as it was. She would become hardened now, and she'd need that toughness for the job ahead.

He stood up and told everyone, "We've finished with round one. It's time to head back to the Mother Ship. Bambi, take us home."

"Yes sir."

Mike kept his expression neutral, yet his thoughts were anything but. They had achieved the first steps toward building an organization that he hoped would be the foundation of a new Terran Space Navy. He felt so out of his league. He was no empire builder and he certainly didn't want to be an Emperor.

His greatest concern was how slow things were progressing. Despite the recent actions, which were relatively simple slam-bang affairs, there was still so much more to do.

Eventually, the Saurans were going to discover they had a missing transport. When the word got back to them, they would show up here with overwhelming force and Mike couldn't imagine the people of Earth being ready in time to deal with them.

He realized he didn't have the luxury of dwelling on his worries. At the moment, there was work to be done.

Before they could pursue anything else, they had to get as many of the old vets, into med units. Half way to the Mother ship, the old men came out repaired, slightly younger, yet groggy and not fully recovered. They were put in stasis and another person was put in a med unit.

Bambi told them it made no sense to stop for the robots she had dropped off in the asteroid belt. They had room for them, but no place left to store the gold, platinum, silver and other metals they had collected. So, she sent them on a mission to do a closer study of the four asteroids she had identified as usable by the new Terran Space Navy.

The entire time on route, Bambi had been listening to the Presidents comm unit. Mike was correct about his reaction. The President explained to the Secret Service what had happened, and they wanted to move him immediately. He pointed out that was closing the barn door after the horses got out and that if Mike had wanted him dead or kidnapped, he easily could have done just that.

As a salve to the Secret Service, the President agreed to triple the number of agents at Camp David and a second company of Marines was sent there as well. All on duty personnel would wear oxygen breathing apparatuses (OBAs), in order to avoid being gassed again. It was uncomfortable for the men, but a logical defensive measure.

Bob Stassen was remarkably calm, as he explained to his chief of staff what had happened and what he had been told. Oldfield was skeptical. He suggested that the President bring in a few experts, such as the head of the Science Foundation, the National Security Advisor and his close friend, the Secretary of Defense. Very shortly after that, they lost contact through the comm unit, because John Oldfield had placed the comm unit in a Faraday cage to block any signals. He had correctly assumed that it could be used as a listening device. What Oldfield didn't know was that Bambi had placed micro-drones around Camp David. Thus, she was still monitoring their conversations.

Two days out from the Mother Ship they received a call from the President.

"Sergeant Hurst, are you there."

Mike was munching on a delicious blob of chicken and his mouth was full; so he responded using his comm, in voice mode. "I'm here Mr. President. How can I help you?"

"You can answer some questions for me. There seems to be some people missing and I suspect you have...brought them onto your spacecraft with the intent of improving their health."

It was a delicate way of accusing Mike of kidnapping. The man was a consummate politician.

End of Book One

Index of characters and items of interest

**Michael (Mike) Hurst** -Lost both legs and an eye in Iraq, alien med unit regenerated them and he is now the leader of the Terran Space Navy (TSN)

**Jonelle** **(Jo)-** Alien who kidnapped Mike Hurst, to gain his help in fighting the Saurans. He had been a slave of the Saurans for two hundred years.

**Bambi** \- A sentient (self aware) computer who operates every function aboard the captured Sauran transport ship using the biologic communication system (comm), she can mentally talk with anyone who has been upgraded. She has made the conscious decision to ally herself with the TSN.

**Maximilian (Max) Kolbe** -Brilliant military strategist and General when Mike was in Iraq.

**Wayne Hurst** -Mike's son, Annapolis graduate and now a Marine fighter pilot-injured in a car wreck.

**Mary Hurst** -Wayne's wife-an engineer, also injured in the car wreck.

**Robert (Bob) Stassen** -President of the United States of America

Items of interest

**Sauran transport vessel** -Massive spaceship, sometimes referred to as the Mother Ship-shaped like dozens of huge shoe boxes glued together-over eighteen hundred meters long and four hundred sixty meters wide, with a mass of four and one half billion tons-primary use was transport-lightly armed.

**Large shuttle** -looks a little like the transport, only much smaller-eighty feet long by thirty feet wide.

**Small shuttle** -fifty feet long by twenty feet wide

**Fire arms** -Various types and sizes, firing a plasma blast, similar to the ionic shields that protect the ships in flight

**Upgrade** -Alien med-units can make genetic modifications to most beings, including humans. They can introduce genetic modification and inject nanites, which work with the new genes to repair injuries and can even regrow missing limbs. A full upgrade is quite painful and takes days, but once completed the individual will have far greater strength and speed, in addition to being able to use the biologic comm that is connected to the brain, allowing full communications with all other upgrades. This allows the person to monitor his bodily functions and to direct the nanites to heal minor injuries, while squelching the pain.

**Comm system** -Perhaps the most potent of all the alien technology. With a genetically matched brain addition, any upgraded human can talk with any other upgrade and operate most alien equipment. The mind functions much faster than current computers. Comm distance between upgrades (without assistance) is approximately thirty kilometers; near the ship it can be boosted out to two thousand kilometers and with the help of repeaters (signal boosters) the distance can be many thousands of kilometers; line of sight is preferred.

This re-edit is copyright 2019 by Bruce George. All rights reserved.

Re-edited 2019

Authors need feedback and support from their readers. Please leave a brief review of my book and be sure to give it a star rating. I respond to all e-mails, even the harsh ones, so drop me a line, or ask me a question.

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Excerpt from Book two of the **Broken Soldier** series

### Starting from Scratch

The large shuttle slowly made its way toward the damaged transport. They moved with deliberate caution, not wanting to alarm the crew of the ship by rushing straight at them, at attack speed. When Mike looked at the transport on the viewing screen, he saw the huge hole in its side.

Bambi commed, _That hole goes all the way through it, General. I calculate that the damage is severe. The engineering equipment has been nearly destroyed and there is a possibility that some damage was done to the computer housing. That might explain why the responses from the ship were not within the normal ranges of accepted computer behavior._

If the computer has been damaged, I suspect that the responses we received were generated by a live Sauran and not the computer. Sir, there is a distinct possibility that they are without the aid of their internal comm. If that's the case, it is an extraordinary opportunity for us to achieve success.

Jo warned, _I agree, Bambi. But we are still going to face Sauran warriors and they will fight with their usual ferocity. I suggest we stick with the existing plan._

Mike added, "That's exactly what we're going to do. I can see where the Saurans losing comm would be an advantage for us, but not enough to drastically change the guidelines for this op. We'll go in as we planned."

Bambi told them, _I'm being told to bring the shuttle in using our computer, which would be me, of course. This is highly unusual. In nearly every case, the ship's computer takes control of all vehicles entering the ship for safety's sake. It must mean the computer on this transport has been damaged. Here we go._

The shuttle slowly entered the hanger, revealing the large hole, where something had blown through the ship and the hanger. Two shuttles had been mangled by the shot and there were no robots in sight. That worried Mike.

Bambi, why don't we see robots working on the damage?

General, it can only mean that that the Saurans have lost their comm with them.

The shuttle set down and an enormous set of doors began to move across the width of the deck, closing off the damaged portion of the hanger.

General, they're pressurizing this part of the hanger and I'm being ordered to have you exit the shuttle and greet the Sauran who awaits you. Be sure to show the proper respect, sir.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for the closed off portion of the hanger to pressurize. Bambi pointed out that was very slow.

Mike, Wayne and Max slowly walked down the open ramp and entered the damaged transport. When a single Sauran approached them, they bowed deeply, showing him the maximum respect. The huge alien slapped Mike and kicked Wayne, before shoving Max to his knees.

"You are here to repair our environmental system. Has the appropriate information been downloaded to you?"

Mike commed, _Yes, master._

"You must speak to me, using your stupid human voices. Once our computer has been repaired, we will use the comm. Do you understand, slave?"

Mike responded, "Yes, master."

"Then don't keep me waiting. Go and rebuild it."

He slapped Mike again and asked, "Where are the food supplies you were told to bring?"

Mike's short temper caused him to alter the original plans. He'd had enough and decided to make his move early. He angrily said, "I have some right here, master."

He reached behind his back and brought out a plasma pistol. The Sauran moved with lightning speed and kicked it out of his hand, sending it flying across the floor of the hanger.

Wayne jumped at the hulking warrior and Max was right behind him, driving the creature to the deck. Mike's hand hurt like hell, as he went to retrieve the gun. He heard Wayne scream and turned back to see his son's head being twisted until his neck snapped. Mike's mind went into combat mode, ignoring the emotional agony of his son's death. He didn't have the luxury of grieving just then. As Max struggled with the Sauran, Mike grasped the plasma weapon and put two shots into the alien's head, nearly decapitating it.

He looked at Max and the man's head exploded, as a powerful plasma round ended the life of his friend. He spun to his left, ducking immediately, as a shot went above his head. But before he could aim his plasma pistol. A round caught him in the chest, driving him down to the deck, as he descended into darkness.

This re-edit is copyright 2019 by Bruce George. All rights reserved.

