Mordjan

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Mordjan Page 8

by Immortal Angel


  They ate mostly in silence, and despite everything, Fayelle found she was hungry. Even the cyborgs from the resistance were shoveling down food as if it was their last meal.

  “Don’t they feed you guys on this ship?” Mordjan grumbled as Bradan took the last barbecued bird leg.

  “They do,” he replied with his mouth full, “but Jaden and I have been too busy to eat.”

  When Ruith entered a few minutes later, he turned on a big screen at the far end of the table. “Thank you for joining us today. We’re doing this presentation in the med wing so you can see the state-of-the-art medical technology we are equipped with,” he began. “We’ll be happy to show you around after this presentation and answer any questions you have.”

  Mordjan gave a snort that indicated that he didn’t really care about their equipment, and the high medic frowned at him.

  “As I have already told you, the information we found on the Ardak device was incredible. It shows new cybernetic upgrades, and we hope you’ll agree to be upgraded. We haven’t examined all of it yet, but the first few sections on cyborg and exoarmor was nothing short of miraculous.”

  “If you haven’t examined all of it yet, how do you know this will work?” Fayelle broke in.

  The high medic huffed. “Because we’ve examined enough of it to know it should work. Time is a factor in all of this, so if you’ll stop interrupting me, I’m going to walk you through what we do know now. If you have any questions, please hold them until the end.”

  He pressed a small button on the wall and a new picture appeared. It was a diagram of a cyborg, with arrows pointing to various places on its body. “This is a rough overview of the upgrades the Ardaks had planned for cyborgs.”

  Fayelle winced inwardly because the diagram was nothing short of a complete renovation of their bodies, with tech implants to improve sensory inputs, chip modifications, and a full suit of exoarmor. To the resistance it might seem like a miracle, but to the cyborg undergoing the process, it would probably be excruciating.

  “Are you planning to do all of this?” Mordjan asked.

  The high medic gave a very unmedical snort. “No. That would take way too long and we don’t have a lot of these devices on board. But we can do the three basic stages as well as manufacture the armor. The weapons bay has already said they can make the exoarmor suits.”

  “Exoarmor suits? You can’t be serious.” Simban’s voice was thick with disbelief.

  “And wings?” Unlike Simban, Chihon’s voice held an undercurrent of excitement.

  “Yes, and much more,” High Medic Tassarion smiled. “This is actually a diagram of an exoarmor suit. They will have laser canons, energetic swords, and an energy shield. Their tech is so advanced, it feels almost like magic, which is what leads me to believe the Ardaks were designing the cyborgs with the technology to rival our magic.”

  Fayelle exchanged a glance with Mordjan and then the others. The cyborgs’ faces held a wide range of emotions—everything from hope to despair.

  “Why didn’t we get any of these upgrades before if the Ardaks had these plans?” Borian asked.

  “I’m not sure why they didn’t try these upgrades on you, or whether they had even planned to. Looking around the room at the differential tech you all possess, you can see how their tech has evolved in leaps and bounds since Jovjan was created three years ago, so it could be that this wasn’t ready when some of you were created.” He lowered his voice. “But perhaps the most probable reason is that the Ardaks pride themselves on the control over their cyborgs, and these plans will turn cyborgs into weapons of never-before-seen destruction. They may have tried it and found the new cyborgs more difficult to control, or perhaps they were too afraid to try it for that reason. Since that isn’t something we need to worry about, creating several of these cyborgs could really turn the tide for us in this war.” High Medic Tassarion’s eyes were bright for a moment, his enthusiasm for the project almost contagious.

  Fayelle cleared her throat. “This is a nice dream, and while the outcomes could be incredible, they will likely come at a high price. These are experimental procedures, and there are three stages. From what I saw and from what you have already stated, death is possible at every stage.”

  Some of the hope on their faces diminished.

  “Can you explain the stages?” Simban asked.

  Tassarion pressed a button and the slide changed. “In short, in stage one, we’re going to dramatically increase the available oxygen in your body. We will be replacing half your red blood cells with super-oxygen holding cells. They can hold roughly two hundred and thirty-eight times the oxygen of a regular blood cell.”

  “You want to replace our blood?” Chihon asked. “It sounds impossible.”

  “Theoretically, it is possible so long as your body doesn’t reject it.”

  “We have to assume that your body isn’t going to reject it, because you’ve survived the other processes like insertion of the chips, ocular implants, and other devices without your bodies rejecting them,” Tassarion countered. “But we will give you some immunosuppressants that will help your body to accept it.”

  “But doesn’t our blood remake itself every few days?” Jovjan asked.

  “We will also implant a device that will create more of these cells on a regular basis. Can I move on?” High Medic Tassarion glanced at each of them, making it clear he didn’t want questions. “In stage two, we’re going to replace the small battery crystal the Ardaks gave you with a supercharged battery crystal.”

  “That sounds all right,” Simban whispered from the side of his mouth so he didn’t interrupt the medic again.

  “It is what comes after that will be painful. We need to increase the amount of energy your body can take.”

  “How will you do that?”

  “We’re going to shock you,” the high medic admitted.

  Simban’s jaw dropped. “You’re going to what?”

  “We’re going to hook you up to a machine that will repeatedly shock you, increasing the level of current over time.”

  “Why are you going to do that?”

  “We need to prepare you for the third stage, which is when we actually give you a suit of exoarmor and turn it on. We need to ensure that your body’s cells and brain can take the power, and force it to adapt to the suit.”

  “You’re actually going to make these suits for us?” Mordjan broke in.

  “Yes. We’ve started on the first three already since we have measurements for Jovjan, Bradan, and Jadan,” High Medic Tassarion replied smoothly. “The project is being led by Second Leader Saara, and they will be completed by the time you need them.”

  “Will the suits come off?”

  “Yes, of course,” the high medic huffed. “They’ll be like any other suit of armor you have.”

  “Will we have to get shocked every time we want to wear them?”

  “No—well, we don’t know,” the high medic finally admitted. “Once we get you to adapt to the suit, you may have to wear it daily for a while to keep your body adjusted to it.

  “Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Chihon said, drawing nods from several of the others.

  “How long will these stages take?” Borian asked.

  “According to the files we found, they should take three days. But we don’t have that long. So at this point, each stage will last roughly—” he looked at the timer above the door in the med bay that read nineteen hours and forty-four minutes “—four to six hours.”

  Fayelle inhaled sharply, and Mordjan felt her entire body tense beside him. “You can’t just increase the timeline because we could be under attack soon,” she protested.

  The high medic gave her a hard look. “Watch me.”

  “That won’t even be enough time for them to adapt to each stage! You’re putting your own desires ahead of safety. What if their bodies need more time to adjust?”

  “Then we’ll slow the process for them on an individual
basis, but we’re going to have to hope that some don’t. We need them ready to fight the Ardaks. High Leader Ruith hasn’t been able to get a call out, so we don’t anticipate help waiting for us when we drop out of hyperdrive. The upgrades are the only chance we have.”

  “Then your thinking is exactly how the Ardaks thought,” Fayelle shot back. “When they made the cyborgs on Aurora, only one in four survived, but they justified it by saying that was the cost of war. If you feel the same, how are we any different?”

  High Medic Tassarion crossed his arms. “We aren’t decimating several hundred worlds at once. If you have a problem differentiating between the two forces, I can throw you onto a battlefield somewhere so you can see for yourself.”

  Fayelle didn’t back down. “It doesn’t matter what you say, Tassarion. Either you respect life or you don’t. Your morality can’t go into the shadows just because we’re fighting the Ardaks.” She turned to the cyborgs. “I’ve been healing beings for over six hundred and fifty years. I’m telling you that I think these upgrades are extremely dangerous. The medics don’t know anything about them, and they’ve never done it before. Being the first, your chance of death is greater than your chance of survival.”

  “We’d rather get you through this alive than allow you to end up in a wooden box,” High Medic Tassarion said dryly. “We will take as many precautions as we can, including giving each of you an elven healer to help you through the process. Of course, if you have your own healer—” he indicated Fayelle and Irielle “—they will be welcome to assist. But even with our precautions, even if we slow the stages on an individual basis as necessary, some of you may still go into a wooden box. Those of you with mates may find it harder to do this, and right now, we’re simply asking for volunteers. If we don’t get anyone, then we will begin to draw straws. It’s extremely important that we start this process as soon as possible, for all our sakes.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that we don’t have a choice at all.” Mordjan’s voice was tight with anger. “Your timeline might be tight, but if you’d been through what we’ve been through, you might not want to volunteer for more experiments. The Ardaks didn’t give us a choice, and you claim to be different from them, but all you are is better at hiding the monsters you are!”

  The high medic didn’t blink. “I can’t help what you’ve already been through and I can’t change how you view this situation. What I can do is give you the chance to become something more, and maybe to save us all. We’ll let you think about it, but you have thirty minutes to make a decision. Stage one will begin in forty-five.”

  “Holy shit,” Simban said under his breath. “They aren’t fucking around.”

  “Neither should we,” Mordjan replied. “Can we get some privacy?”

  “Of course.” The high medic gestured to a small room off to the right. “We’ll await your decision.”

  Fayelle knew that the stakes were high, but she also knew that the risks were more than she could accept. Mordjan was correct to say that Tassarion was bordering on monstrous.

  Her original mission had been to discover their technology and how it could work with magic. Instead, she learned that these medics had let technology take over, and in the process, they had lost something more valuable than their magic. They had lost their souls. And now these cyborgs were going to suffer for it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mordjan

  Mordjan entered the tiny room and Fayelle, Simban, Irielle, Borian, and Nordan followed. He was surprised to see that the four cyborgs from the resistance were behind them.

  “We don’t have anyone else to discuss this with,” Chihon offered with a shrug.

  “We’re also interested in what you think about all this,” Simban said, looking at each cyborg in turn. “Especially since you know these high medics and their medicine better than we do.”

  Mordjan turned to Fayelle. “Even though you won’t be undergoing the procedure, we all value your opinion—will you tell us what you think?”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m not a cyborg, so it’s difficult for me to tell you what to do. But if it were me, I wouldn’t pursue the experimental upgrades.”

  Nordan raised his brows. “Why not? They are supposed to make us more powerful.”

  “Yes, they are, but they are just too dangerous, and death isn’t something you can come back from. If you want to know if I would risk my life for a small chance of being more powerful, I don’t think I would. You are already stronger and faster than normal beings, but look what it cost each of you to obtain that.”

  “The potential of the upgrades is amazing,” Jovjan said.

  “Yes,” Bradan seconded. “Flight. Invisibility. Lasers that will automatically sight targets. The exoarmor looks like it could withstand a lot. The potential is overwhelming.”

  “Is the potential worth the risk, though?”

  “What do you think are the odds of survival?” Chihon asked.

  Fayelle shrugged. “Who knows?” Her face was a mixture of worry and misery. “The high medic is desperate enough to move ahead despite the possible risks, but we don’t know that the project is going to work or that the upgrades will be able to help us fight the two Ardak ships after we exit hyperdrive. His blatant disregard for your lives should be a warning to each one of you. I feel like, to them, you are just weapons—assets—not thinking, breathing beings.”

  “I don’t think their disregard is purposeful,” Mordjan said. “Let’s take into consideration their position. The resistance is fighting a war on an enormous scale here, and they need every tactical advantage they can get. There are two things that weigh heavily on my mind. First is the risk. The high risk of death was enough to stop even the Ardaks from attempting these surgeries, right?” Everyone nodded, and Mordjan continued, “So, if the beings who created us in the first place weren’t confident in their success, what makes us believe the medics on this ship have enough experience to bring any of us through them alive?”

  “The high medic is a bit of an asshole,” Chihon said frankly, “but he does know what he’s doing. There’s a reason why he’s busy now. He gets the most critical cases from every battlefield, and the one on Velmar was particularly bad.”

  “If anyone can do it, he can,” Jovjan seconded.

  “The second thing weighing on my mind is about Aurora. If we come through the surgeries all right, we’ll be indispensible to their cause. Do you think they will simply let us go back to our planet?” He rubbed his forehead. “If they stop us, what will happen to our people?”

  “If we will be as powerful as they seem to think we will be, I would love to see them try to stop me from going home. The Ardaks are killing millions of beings across hundreds of worlds. If even one of us has the chance to fight that, it might be worth the cost if we chose to do it.” Simban put his arm around Irielle, whose eyes had begun to leak tears.

  “I’m not sure we even have a choice in this. Yes, they say they will only upgrade volunteers, but do any of you actually believe that? I mean . . . look where we are. A locked room. Do you think they will let us discuss this much longer before they decide they are out of time and just force us to do it?” Irielle asked.

  “We’ve already run out of time,” Fayelle scoffed. “The stages are supposed to take three days. Even the Ardaks were going to give you time to adapt.”

  As if the resistance had been listening to the discussion, the door opened and High Leader Ruith walked in. The elf looked directly at him. “We’ve confirmed through Tristin’s cousin, Juordin, that it was you who saved the Tuorins from the Ardaks, although all three have gone missing again from another mission. We’re deeply in your debt for that rescue, and as a small show of gratitude, we are offering to adjust your chips so that you will truly be free from the Ardaks’ control.” He checked his watch. “I have to go, but just know that all of us are pulling for you to get through these surgeries and become the weapons you were meant to be. You really can help us
win this war.”

  The high leader exited, and Simban turned to Mordjan. “I don’t think he knows we’re still deciding.”

  “He knows,” Mordjan growled. “He just knows the same thing we do. Given our available options, attempting the upgrades is the only reasonable choice we have. If we do survive, we can hopefully defeat the Ardaks once we leave hyperdrive, and then go on to help Aurora. If not, then it won’t really matter because we will be dead.”

  Borian turned to Mordjan. “What do you think they’ll do to us if we don’t do the upgrades?”

  “They already told us that they wouldn’t give us a choice,” Simban said. “So they’ll probably take us forcibly as the Ardaks did.”

  “At least they are giving us the chance to volunteer.” Mordjan took Fayelle’s shoulders in his hands. “I value your opinion as a healer, and I do think you’re right about us not doing this, but we don’t have a choice. So, I’m asking you to be there for us and to use whatever magic you can to help us get through this.”

  “Of course. We are partners—and a team, remember?” she said to the four cyborgs from their mission.

  Simban pulled Irielle close to his chest. “Someone needs to be first.”

  “Why don’t you let us go first?” Jovjan volunteered. “I’m not mated. And since the Ardaks destroyed my planet, I have nothing to lose.” He said it matter-of-factly.

  “We all have something to lose, Jovjan,” Fayelle told him. “Whether you’re mated or not, have a planet or not, your life is still important. It’s still worth something. Don’t be quick to sacrifice it.”

 

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