by Chris Hechtl
“So … going to the planet is out?” the doctor asked carefully.
“Doctor, as I said, the arrival of that cruiser has changed things. We may not have the luxury of time. If we are forced to abandon the star system, that might force us to include any assets on the ground at an inopportune moment. I hope you do not wish to be included in that number?”
The doctor shook his head vehemently no.
“Then perhaps you should enjoy what you have now, Doctor. We will continue to look for more obviously, but do remember the old adage of, 'the bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,'“ the admiral said with a slight twist of his lips. “Substitute fish people for bird, and ocean for bush and it is more appropriate,” he said.
“Aye aye, sir,” the doctor replied.
“Tap others to help as you need it. I understand we picked up one of their medical personnel. He has some knowledge of these fish people. According to Major Eichmann's monitoring of the brig, he knows them and has experience with them. Use that wisely, Doctor.”
“Very well, sir.” The doctor hesitated then held out a tablet. “My report, sir.”
“I'll look it over,” the admiral said taking it. “Any subjects I should be made aware of? Who is their leader?”
“A female named Mara, sir. She is the blue skinned one, Subject 227. She is quite … fierce, sir. I am working up a method of bending her will to our own.”
“Good for you. See too it then,” the admiral ordered with a wave to the doctor to show himself out. He looked down at the tablet. He was struck by the blue skinned woman's beauty. He'd had a taste for exotic women in his youth. He had no intention of sullying himself with a subhuman, but she was striking with her flashing eyes. “Mara, eh?”
>=,=@
The following morning the prisoners were fed a horrible gruel. The slop was fortunately tasteless, though it was bit slimier than some were accustomed to eating. It was also very alien to their normal diet. Within hours many were doubled over with gastric complaints. The head in the small compartment was quickly overwhelmed. Some of the water dwellers couldn't hold it in and ended up using corners or going near the door.
“I forgot the gruel. I wondered if they did it to make you get rid of anything in your system. I had the same reaction,” Zane muttered. “Possibly a combination of a laxative with something else. Sick bastards,” he grumbled, trying to help the worst of the lot.
Doctor Zane had told the group of what he'd learned. How the pirates had easily stripped the defenses of the planet with long-range kinetic strikes, then once they'd settled into orbit they'd taken their time stripping the small but growing station before destroying it. He was a bit less sure of what they were doing with the gas refinery platform.
He was aware of bombings in Metropolis, Gotham, Landing, and other major cities. For some reason they had so far spared Mega City. Not for want of trying though, they'd sent in forces to secure it but had been repulsed by some vigilante group there.
Any organized resistance or concentration of refugees had been bombed, especially if they had nonhumans in their number. They took what they wanted, laughed at the cowering people left behind whimpering, and left only misery and wreckage for the people to climb out from under.
Near lunch the guard came to the door and swore at the foul smell. He produced a mop and bucket and ordered them to clean up the mess. Out of a need for the space and to ease their own misery, Mara did her best to comply. There was a bit of muttering but eventually a few people also stepped up to take a silent turn with the mop and bucket. She knew eventually they would need to sleep on the floor they'd soiled, and she didn't like the idea of getting sick from any exposure to their own wastes.
Exposure to the waste products that walked on two-legs outside their brig cell couldn't be helped however. Some things had to be endured apparently.
But, near evening she found that Doctor Zane had had enough. He'd reached his breaking point. When they ordered him out and started to rough him up outside the cell, she'd protested. A truncheon on the bars made her step back hastily.
“You're next, girly. Don't worry. Your scum will prove useful or be spaced,” the guard laughed darkly.
“I think I'm done helping,” Zane said, coughing into his fist as he bent over. He slowly stood. “I've been holding this off for a while. But I've realized I'm a coward.”
“Yes, you are,” the guard said laughing. “Yellow as some of the subhumans in the cage with you.”
“Thank you. But I think it's time to do what I should have done—what my implants had desired. I've fended them off but I'm tired,” he admitted. He closed his eyes, his face a mask of anguished pain. “I clung to the hope of a rescue.”
“Fat chance of that. What implants?” the guard demanded. He looked to his partner. The other shrugged.
“These,” the doctor said raising his right hand to expose the jacks embedded there. He raised his left to show them the jacks there, then brushed his oily brown matted hair aside to show them the jacks near the base of his neck. “I am Lieutenant Ted Zane, Doctor, Federation Navy Medical Corp, reservist.”
“Nice,” the guard sneered. “Major Eichmann will want to take this one apart carefully,” he said, looking over to his partner. “I doubt he'll put him back together when he's done.”
Something seemed to give in the human doctor. His shoulders slumped and then straightened. “I agree with the assessment of my implant computer. Security Alpha Omega initiative applies.” Doctor Zane's eyes opened. They were battered, barely slitted by the bruising, but they were clear and intent as he looked past the guards to Mara and the others staring at the tableau. “I take this route to defy the enemy. May the spirits of space protect and comfort the weak and aide the righteous. May justice one day come again.”
“I think he's lost it,” the guard said warily.
“Careful,” the corporal warned, widening his stance in case of a charge.
“Alpha Omega protocol active. Scrub system, then initiate final phase,” the doctor said.
“Doctor …,” Mara said.
He looked at her. “Sorry, Mara. It seems this is the only way I can help you. It will be all right. Goodbye,” he said as his eyes rolled back and he crumpled. He began to shake on the floor. The guard prodded him.
“It's a trick.”
“It's … damn it, call a corpsman,” the corporal snarled. “If he dies on my watch, it's my ass,” he growled, now in despair.
“So? One of them around right?” the other guard said as the doctor's seizure seemed to end. He reached down warily, putting a boot on the man's chest as his fingers sought out his carotid artery. “I'm not getting a pulse.”
“Frack,” the corporal muttered, turning to get to the phone. When he heard a gasp, he turned back to see the body beginning to dissolve.
“Clear the area! Nanites!” he barked, waving the men out of the room. The guards exited the compartment fast, shutting the door behind themselves. They turned to watch through the hatch window as the doctor's body turned into a puddle of goo.
>=,=@
Mara was horrified by what she saw. Her hands went to her mouth to choke back a scream. She heard whimpering and retching behind her but ignored it. To have done that to himself …
“Sadistic bastards didn't give him any other way out,” Emory muttered, cradling his daughter and mate to his chest as he turned them away.
>=,=@
“So, no breach?” the captain demanded, eying the video of the brig. “What the hell happened?” she demanded.
“He suicided,” the corporal said. “He said he had implants and something about an Alpha Omega initiative,” he reported. After a moment he shrugged.
“You idiot!” Major Eichmann snarled. “You didn't think to search him??”
“I just drew this detail, sir. He's been in the brig before I got here,” the corporal said defensively. “There were no notations of implants on him. What does it mean? What about the nanites?”
&n
bsp; “Alpha Omega initiative is the self-destruct trigger. One of several. This one is a complete denial of someone's body to the enemy,” the major said caustically. “It dates back to the Xeno war if you must know. Next time, you bonehead, bone up on your history and protocol in handling such subjects,” he snarled.
“Are my subjects safe?” Doctor Milgram asked anxiously. “I don't want to think about having gone through all that trouble to secure them for nothing,” he said.
“They are fine,” the intelligence officer said in thorough disgust. “The self-destruct was for the lieutenant alone. I didn't know he had implants or nanites though.”
“It seems the corporal isn't the only one behind in examining his finds,” the captain said, eying the officer.
“Yes, ma'am, I stand rebuked,” the major said stiffly.
She opened her mouth to go further, but the admiral cleared his throat. She closed it and turned her eyes to him. “So, check them thoroughly for both. I want them cleaned.”
“Yes, sir. Their health isn't quite what I had hoped. Application of the laxative flushed some of the good bacteria from them and dehydrated them. They aren't drinking what they should.”
“They could want or need salt water, Doctor,” the captain said.
“They drink fresh. They have before. But it's tepid and …,” he frowned, clearly anxious and dithering over the health of his subjects.
“We're working on it. We aren't used to pampering slaves, Doctor,” the captain said in exasperation.
“None the less, it is what we must do. I require any who are sick to be segregated. We'll need medical treatment for them and careful monitoring now that this Zane is dead. I had such high hopes for him,” he sighed.
“Oh?”
“I had considered inserting an undercover operative in with them and getting them to bond, then use that bond to guide their actions, but the opportunity never presented itself. Nor do I have a properly trained operative on hand to take the job,” the doctor said.
“Pity about that,” the captain said sarcastically.
“Captain,” the doctor turned to round on her. “Imagine your ship being able to jump into the Delta band. To hit the epsilon band. To skip through a star system. To be able to drop out of hyper onto a prey at close range without notice. To see the prey in hyperspace and pounce on them there! It is a priceless advantage!”
The captain frowned and crossed her arms. “You're talking about a Ssilli, Doctor,” she finally said.
“I'm talking about the abilities of any water dweller! Some yes, have the ability and can exercise it better than others. That goes without saying. These are close to our species. With careful handling and guidance, we can mold them into what we desire!”
“And what is to stop the enemy from doing the same? According to our latest intelligence they have done so in the recent past. Twice if the reports are accurate,” the major said.
“Oh?”
“According to our intelligence, and this is secondhand, but it is a media report,” the major said, pulling out a tablet to pull up the relevant download. “We got this,” he said, highlighting a report. “Apparently the ship, this same Resolution possibly, managed to run from Agnosta to Antigua in record time. They used a selkie to skip across the star systems and then hit Admiral Cartwright in Antigua. That one ship took his entire force out.”
“That one ship?” the admiral asked, surprised.
“Yes, sir.”
“Damn. And the second incident?” the captain asked.
“According to the report from a news courier, Admiral Irons mutinied after capture on the good ship Bounty,” he explained. His audience grimaced. “He took a scratch force and dropped in on Admiral Rico in B101a1. He used a Ssilli to drop them in at just outside missile range.”
“And?” the captain demanded.
“And he hit them with a combined cyber and missile attack. He tore apart Admiral Rico's force. This Resolution again showed up in the nick of time to help bail him out near the end but apparently he did too good a job tearing apart Queen Adrienne and the other ships there. They won and took the ships as prizes, including Queen Adrienne.”
“Damn.”
“So, if he could do that with a destroyer... imagine what we can do!” the doctor said eagerly. “Surprise is priceless; that's been drilled into me and the planners of this initiative from day one. Captain,” the doctor stated. “We must get them comfortable. I'll need genetic samples, as a fallback; we'll have to preserve any bodies, but above all keeping them alive is vital!”
“It is indeed. Expedite the life support changes, Captain,” the admiral ordered. She turned to him, eyes searching. “That's an order.” She nodded curtly.
“Doctor, we may have need of your subjects. They will need to be put through their paces, so you'll need to be prepared to get their compliance. See to it,” the admiral ordered. The doctor started to protest but a sharp look from the admiral made him realize it was useless.
“You've been holding out on me, Major,” the admiral warned, eying the intelligence officer. “I want a copy of those reports.”
“They have been in your debrief file for a while, sir,” the officer stated.
“But you didn't draw attention to them, and you should have,” he said. He turned to where the corporal was standing, trying to appear like a speck. “Dismissed, Corporal. You and your fellows are to clean that mess up and then tread more carefully with the prisoners. Treat them with all caution and care,” he ordered.
“Aye aye, sir,” the corporal replied. He about-faced smartly and didn't heave sigh of relief until the hatch was firmly behind him and he was headed to the brig once more.
>=,=@
“Now, eventually we'll need to break them up into smaller and smaller groups. Assign handlers to each and use behavioral conditioning to induce compliance. For the moment, due to our limited life support ability and numbers, we're forced to keep them as a group. This is suboptimal as you know, it allows them to be dependent on each other when we want to induce them to become dependent on us for their emotional stability. Their social interactions are fascinating to observe and may prove useful leverage in the future. However, they can get each other to fight their conditioning and that is against our interests.”
The doctor frowned thoughtfully as he organized his lecture thoughts. “Normally, slaves or new recruits are separated and put on work parties to break them down. Hard work keeps their minds occupied. Boring work numbs them and breaks down their defiance into manageable chunks that we can then redirect as we wish. Recently we've begun adding new tools to our tool chest. These remain untested in subhuman species, so we will have to proceed with extreme caution along that avenue or hold off for later.”
“How are we going to induce sleep teaching and hypnotics, Doctor? They sleep in a group?” the nurse asked.
“That is indeed a problem. I am working on it,” the doctor stated. “For the moment we will select individuals and then give them individual medical care. Under that guise we will hold them overnight and begin getting a baseline, then inducing mild hypnotic and sleep therapies to induce a compliant mind state. It will take time however.”
“Time is a luxury we may not have, Doctor,” Commander Roshou said from the open doorway. All eyes fell to him. “Another Federation warship has arrived. You need to step up your game. The admiral wants more progress and swiftly.”
“Not good. Some things cannot be rushed, not without long-term consequences,” the doctor stormed, scowling blackly.
“Well, you better figure them out ASAP, Doctor,” the commander said as a departing shot.
“Get me the corporal in charge of their sector. And I'll need a list of some of our more … seedier marine enlisted. I need to forge a bond with Subject 227 fast it appears,” the doctor ground out.
“Yes, Doctor,” an assistant said, hustling out.
>=,=@
Mara blinked at the glare of lights. Some of her people turned instinc
tively away, a few curled up in fetal balls, one or two actually snarled as intruders entered their cell. Kicks and electrified baton strikes got the others out of the way. She was yanked up by a hand in her hair. “This is the one,” a snarling voice said.
“Fine. Bring her.”
She felt rough hands twist one of her arms behind her back as they hustled her to her feet. She was dehydrated and in not much condition to walk, but they forced her to stumble along.
The bright lights made her blink and try to shield her eyes, but her free hand was grabbed and twisted behind her as well. She was bent over as the hammerlock was changed to a pair of plastic wrist bindings. Then the hand in her hair changed to a cord going around her throat and then back to her wrist bindings. She gasped and squirmed as the rope cut into her gill slits and throat. “Ease up. We don't want to do permanent harm. The doc …”
“What the doc doesn't know, he won't care about. I've been meaning to try me some smurf meat,” the voice of the guy handling her said. His breath stank of booze and garlic. She gagged, not as much from the rope anymore as the stench of him. He pulled her roughly along, head down.
She was thrown into a room. She tried to take the fall on her shoulder but cried out in anguish as she felt pain there. She laid there for a moment panting, trying to get her bearings. Her respite didn't last long. Once the hatch was closed, rough hands reached down to grab her booted feet.
“Take these damn things off. Cut the suit off if we have to …”
“Doc will notice. We gotta keep this on the low, man,” a harsh voice said.
“I told you; I don't give a shit. I want this done,” the other said. “Now are you going to help?”
“Just flip her …”
Mara kicked out, signaling to her boots to morph. The plastic toe guard morphed into flippers as her foot lashed out. She caught one guy, then rolled, slashing her other leg up and around to hit the other on the chin hard. She kept kicking them in the shins, trying to aim at their genitals as they danced out of reach.