“It’s like I’m 18 again,” he whispered with disbelief, touching the mirror to verify it was real.
Other changes became apparent the longer he stared. He looked toned; his belly now flat, showing a six-pack that looked unreal. His arms and chest were much more defined, almost “chiseled”, like he’d been taking care of his body and working out every day, not drinking heavily and barely eating.
He shook his head in disbelief as he slipped into the familiar blue and white jumpsuit provided, strapping the holster he found underneath over his shoulder. He pulled free the narrow, cylindrical weapon, with an arrow shaped tip at one end. It called forth a memory of Sir Simwa’s malicious snarl a moment before he...Trent slid the weapon back into the holster before it fully took hold.
Looking himself over one last time, still unable to believe the man looking back at him was actually him, he strode through the next doorway with a little more confidence.
The cylindrical room he entered was, as expected, completely abandoned. Throughout its interior were many of the ellipsoid “coffins”, identical to the one he’d found when he awoke. They lined the curving walls perpendicularly, like an inverse gear, only broken by open doorways. A column sat in the center of the room, with more of the “coffins” circling its base, reminding him of a flower, the “coffins” its metallic petals and the column its center stem. To both sides of the doorway he just exited were curved, wooden half tables, with a row of semi-spherical protrusions, like a uniform mountain range, atop its surface, similar to the ones that adorned the sides of the ellipsoid “coffins”.
“Hello?” he half-shouted, not sure if he actually wanted to hear a response, having seen too many horror movies in his life with scenes such as this. When no reply came, he started to wander around the room.
The first few exits he passed led to similar rooms to the one he had awoken, while the others led to rooms identical to the one he was now in, but with no further exits. When he had circled halfway around the room, he found a closed metallic door indistinguishable to the first, with similar, curving half tables on either side.
Without warning, the unintelligible voice speaking in an unknown tongue reappeared within the back of his mind. But this time it was much stronger, and seemed to emanate from an external source, within the wall just to the right of the door. Carefully, like a cat preparing to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse, he approached the wall, running his fingers over the spot where the voice appeared to be originating.
“Hello, I can't understand you,” Trent whispered. But the voice just continued, apparently not hearing his words, before fading again.
Finding little else he could do, he started through the door, only to bounce back as it didn't open like the others. He rubbed his stinging nose. “Hello!” Trent shouted, banging upon the door’s surface with his fist, hoping someone was on the other side. There was, as expected, no response. He began pacing around the room, pondering how he may escape what started to remind him of a bizarre “catacomb”.
He thoroughly searched each and every one of the side rooms, but found nothing besides the ellipsoid “coffins” and semispherical shaped devices, no further exits or anything else that could provide him a hint of where he was. Out of ideas, he moved back to the locked door that had to be the only exit.
As he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the unintelligible voice erupted again in the back of his mind, seeming to originate from the same spot in the wall. He tried to ignore it, thinking it would go away on its own. But it just grew stronger, the voice like an incessant itch inside his head that he could only scratch if he concentrated on its origin. So he stopped resisting, instead, forcing his entire concentration on the voice, listening to it carefully.
“What are you trying to say?” he hissed through his teeth, still unable to make out the odd words, just gibberish. But he did find that the effort relieved the itch, providing a brief moment of respite from the unexplainable sensation.
He listened for as long as his mind would allow, trying to gain something, anything, from the voice, before the strain became just too strong. But no matter how long he listened, it did little but temporarily relieve the itch within his mind. He was about to give up hope, thinking he may, in fact, be going crazy, when an idea struck him.
What if I think back at the voice? The thought made an odd kind of sense, no matter how much his mind screamed it illogical, since the voice seemed to be talking directly into his mind. Finding no reason not to try it; if I’m going crazy it doesn’t matter, does it? He concentrated on the spot in the wall where it seemed to originate.
“What are you trying to say,” he thought, visualizing the words within his mind, then projecting them forth. The sensation felt similar to talking, but with his mind. “I’m definitely going crazy,” he muttered as the voice vanished for a few seconds, then returned, clearer than before, but still too fuzzy for him to understand. Trent, thinking he was on to something, again pictured his words before projecting them at the wall.
“I still can’t understand you,” he thought. The voice vanished once again.
Trent began pacing anxiously before the door, considering the ramifications if he was indeed, going insane. But he didn’t feel like he was going crazy, and his mind cried that it couldn't be a coincidence that when he thought his words towards the spot on the wall, the voice would vanish instantly. The voice returned much clearer than before and Trent thought he could discern some of the words, but most were still gibberish.
“You’re making no sense,” he thought once again. This time the voice didn't vanish, but responded instantly, becoming even clearer, but still unintelligible.
“Why can’t I understand you?” He could see the voice's response with his mind, comprehension on the tip of his tongue, but slipping through his fingers like the words were made of water. “Just tell me what you want already you damn stupid voice!” he shouted with all his frustration.
“Please enter your request,” a crystal clear response boomed within his mind, the odd itching sensation vanishing completely.
Trent stumbled, finding the sensation disorienting. The voice sounded identical to one he would hear with his ears, but not originating from his ears. It was almost like he’d grown a new ear within his mind. That particular thought made the idea that he may be going crazy, stronger. But he repressed it, knowing it was better to accept the voice for what it was...a normal voice that talked to him within his head.
He chuckled. I’m definitely going crazy, his last thought being proof enough of that fact. He sighed, then thought the first thing that came to mind towards the wall.
“Where am I?” An annoying tone, like a fire alarm, sounded in response. Trent could only shake his head to try and remove its echo. But it did little good. He had no choice but to wait for the tone to fade on its own.
“Please enter your request,” the voice returned when it finally ceased. Trent began to think; whatever the voice is, there must be some sort of guidelines for its use. Meaning the question he'd just asked wasn't appropriate or structured correctly.
It felt as if a light bulb lit in his brain; the voice was asking for a request, not a question! He thought his question, but in the form of a request.
“Please provide information about my current location,” he thought.
“The location of this BAP,” the response came almost instantly, “is within emergency medical annex five of TSB Earth Base, wing eleven,” he pumped his fist in jubilation, before taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. The response provided him an idea of where he was, within a base of a group called the TSB. But he needed information, something more concrete. He decided to consider the recent whirlwind of events that had been his life, thinking his past experience may provide him a better idea of exactly what sort of questions he should ask.
Trent recalled the unusual “recruitment” trial he'd been a part of, and from what he remembered, it was to join an organization called the Terra Space Battalion, whic
h he gathered was the same as the TSB.
“Please provide information on the Terra Space Battalion,” Trent thought towards the wall.
“Excerpt found in; Welcome to the TSB! Guide for new recruits: The Terra Space Battalion, or TSB, is an autonomous organization created by Emperor Noolis Origin, the 278th ruler of the New Universal Empirical Human Alliance, in NHA year 69,482, to monitor, study, and protect the special protectorate of Earth,” the answer was not what he expected. He had assumed the TSB was some sort of corporate affiliated organization, but he’d never heard of any that were gaudy enough to have an emperor. So instead of digging further, he decided to ask about the other name mentioned, the word “empirical” sending a shiver down his spine.
“Please provide information on the New Universal Empirical Human Alliance,” he thought his next question.
“Excerpt found in, So you grew up on Earth?: The New Universal Empirical Human Alliance, or NHA, is the experimental government organization responsible for ruling the universe. Currently, the NHA rules over 203 galaxies with over 200 million populated planets, and constantly growing.” Trent gaped at the wall in disbelief at what he’d just heard, or thought he heard, or heard in his thoughts...it’ll take time to get use to this, he realized.
Trent paused for a moment, allowing the ridiculous explanation to fully sink in. According to this voice talking directly into his mind, he was in the base of a universe spanning alliance that ruled over 200 million planets.
“Its official...I’ve lost it...” Trent place his fingers to his cheeks, like it would some way help him understand, “but what if,” he whispered as another idea came to mind, one that was strangely logical, “this is all a corporate experiment?” he shuffled towards one of the ellipsoid “coffins”.
They must have implanted something in my head that is causing these delusions. He ran his fingers over its surface, searching for a way to open it, while gaining confidence in the reasoning behind the unexplainable occurrences he’d faced.
There was no way his arms had regenerated or he had been caught up in a giant galactic alliance that was hidden from Earth. He'd more likely been captured by a corporation and brainwashed, causing reality and fantasy to mix...it makes sense. He considered revealing his revelation to the voice, but the idea quickly faded as he decided to instead, play along, wondering what other information he could discover.
“Please provide information on the governmental structure of the NHA,” he thought, hoping he may glean facts about the actual organization behind this experiment.
“Excerpt found in; So you grew up on Earth?: The NHA is led by a Hereditary Emperor who is responsible for upholding the NHA Founding Charter, Emperor’s Proclamations, Emperor’s Law Book, security, and expansion of the NHA into new galaxies. Each galaxy under his domain is ruled by a Hereditary King or Queen who has sovereignty to rule over their galaxy as they deem fit, within the boundaries placed by the NHA Founding Charter, Emperor’s Proclamations, Emperor’s Law Book, as well as the laws of the pertinent Galaxy Law Book. Each galaxy is further separated into sovereign Duchies which are ruled, within the same bounds as the galaxy, by a Duke and Duchess, but further governed by the relevant Duchy Law Book. The Duchies are further broken down into Marches and Earldoms. Marches are ruled by a Marquee and Marchioness, while Earldoms are ruled by an Earl and Countess, within the same bounds as the Duchy, but further governed by the relevant Local Law Book. An Earldom and March are broken down further into Barony's, which are ruled by a Baron and Baroness, within the same bounds as the Earldom or Mark, but further governed by the relevant Planetary Law Books. Each level of ruling nobility is able to rule, with permission of the NHA Emperor, over those directly below them within the rights of their sovereignty.” The answer Trent received was again, not what he expected.
The talk of using identical noble ranks in the ruling of this universal alliance to the European titles of old further convinced Trent that he was trapped within some sort of corporate experiment. They could have at least changed the names to make it more believable, he sighed, finding it more and more likely he'd undergone brainwashing.
“Excerpt found in,” somehow, part of what he thought ended up as a request and the metallic voice responded, “I can understand you! But why?: The Human Interface Translation node, or HIT node, allows seamless translation of all languages to your primary native language, using common wording to easily convey a meaning when appropriate. During situations a word or meaning does not exist in your native tongue, the HIT node will use accepted translation methodology to create either a new word in the rules of your native tongue or use the existing term if the origin language is similar enough to your native langue,” Trent nodded along with the seemingly logical response.
“Please explain the Human Interface Translation node further.” He decided to follow the line of questioning that he stumbled across.
“Excerpt found in, Human Improvements, Volume 1,326: Human interface translation nodes were first created and genetically integrated into the standard human genome pre-NHA year 6,321 to allow humans who speak vastly different languages to communicate in their native tongues. During the translation process, certain similar terms in the translated language are utilized to allow for additional comprehension and understanding during conversations. If no equivalent term is found, the node analyzes the terms meaning and either creates a new term based on language rules or converts the native term for use. Within human genome structure code...”
Impressive, he thought as the explanation became overly complex, but he was still skeptical. It was irrational to think he could possibly have one of these translation nods, since it would require the altering of his genetics...which was only possible before someone was born and even then, it required top-level corporate approval.
Trent was about to make another request when his stomach growled. How long since I last ate, he wondered. He turned towards the door, putting his current concerns on hold.
“Please open the door,” a painful tone sounded in response, telling Trent he'd made a mistake in his query. He thought about it again and rephrased his statement.
“Please open all exits in emergency medical annex five.” The door slid open and Trent hopped in jubilation. Carefully, he stuck his head outside and peered in both directions.
The corridor that greeted him was wide enough to hold 20 people abreast. Unsurprisingly, it was completely empty, painted white, with a single blue stripe running down the walls, which extending beyond sight in both directions.
“Please tell me where I can find some food,” he thought towards the voice, now originating from a spot in the wall on the other side of the corridor.
“The closest nutrition dispensary is located directly adjacent transport tube station 1324. Directions shall be provided on route. To begin, take a right in corridor 2.34, just outside medical annex five, and proceed 267 meters,” Trent smiled, and with a hop in his step, started a new journey, but this time with a companion, the trusty voice within his head.
*********
The aroma rising from the nutritional gruel, though pleasant, turned her stomach, the memories of the poor servants and crew who had been brutally murdered during her private guard’s betrayal, just too fresh. Sasha tried to force the memories aside, taking a few small nibbles, but it was useless, the food tasted of nothing but her failure.
Knight Admiral Bhool sat like a statue across from her in the officer’s mess, ignoring the two catillian's whimpering while they wandered cautiously over the table’s surface. Tiana and Regalia, their skin having finally started to regain its coloring, sat silently at her sides, poking absently at the food before them. Gil'Da, the only servant that made it to safety, wandered between them, refilling drinks, trying to provide a semblance of normalcy to the abnormal situation.
I just don’t know what to do, the same thought repeated, over and over; her mind lost in the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't think of any way to salvage
the horrible situation in which they now found themselves.
The guards who had betrayed her, learning the assassination had failed, decided to no longer conceal their intentions. In a move she knew must have been previously planned, they stormed engineering, Sasha’s apartments, and the bridge simultaneously. Vin's warning arrived just in time for the crew, who were able to lock out access to engineering and the crew quarters from the guard barracks before attempting the rescue of Sasha and her companions, who had thought themselves trapped without hope of escape.
But this news did little to alleviate the knowledge that Vin’s warning arrived a second too late for the flight captain and two of the flight officers, who were killed during the initial assault. Thankfully, three of the flight officers survived, though two were captured, leaving only Flight Supply Officer Xin'Eir free and unscathed, having been off duty at the time.
Once the guards realized that their plan had failed, they unable to access engineering and the crew quarters, they sent a single message stating that if anyone tried to escape using the ferry shuttle, escape pods, or any other starships tried to approach the shuttle, the hostages would be killed without hesitation. Knight Admiral Bhool responded, demanding the guard’s surrender, while slipping a message off the starship to her second, Vice-Admiral Jia'Tog, informing him of the situation and providing orders.
Her orders were simple; after sending a message to the king, informing him of what had befallen, he was to rendezvous with the 3rd ABF battle group, under the command of Knight Rear-Admiral Quo'Nup, and order him to standby at the Don'Alutia SJS gate hub. The 1st ABF escort fleet, composed of the 1st and 2nd ABF battle groups, were then to be placed under the command of Vice-Admiral Sys'Kol, Alutia's other, more trustworthy battle group commander, and would then journey to the Earth star system. He would then detach the 1st ABF escort fleet to the TSB, under the temporary command of Knight Captain Quinn.
After the orders had been sent, a response was received just before the traitors disabled the long range communication system. A fully armed assault shuttle, loaded with 100 combat armor ready ABF Battleguards, were assigned to follow from a distance, hoping an opportunity would present itself for an armed rescue. Sasha knew the chances were slim, but all options had to be left on the table.
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