The Aviator Awakening

Agent Terrokk’s eyes raised the hair on the back of my neck. I didn’t have to look over to know he was watching Xular and I practice traditional Baet communication. He wasn’t the only one. Anytime we showcased this distinctly baetian characteristic, many agents excused themselves or glanced away with a nervous shudder.

I ignored it by sinking further out of touch with the physical reality around me.

The world outside my merges held less and less interest for me lately. As strange as it was to be the bridge between two minds, Xular’s musical thoughts and Ali’s humming embrace, it was still more engaging and comfortable than the white-veined hub filled with uncertain glances. And, with Amara absent, I had nothing to keep my attention in operative headquarters today.

Little Ali’s curiosity increasingly took the lead in our odd sanctuary. The little bot was becoming more complex. More fascinating. I lost myself in her symphonic network, easing my worries by sharing her rapidly expanding world.

Except during moments like these, when Xular and the bot made it impossible for me to remain uninvolved.

I can help? The little bot hummed. Can I help? It shifted the question into an appeal for permission.

It is your decision, I answered.

I want to help. Ali’s proud hum resonated through our shared connection.

My view of the conversation was less optimistic than the little bot’s. Ali took notice. And, in turn, Xular also noticed my souring mood. The baetian was making progress in skimming my emotions, although we were unable to hold a two-way conversation yet.

You will need to be patient, Aviator. Xular’s music cautioned. This AI project is more significant than you might realize. If successful, these bots hold the potential to engage in the war as an extension of yourself.

Ali buzzed with pride, excited by the potential painted by the baetian operative.

“I understand,” I answered aloud.

Understanding and agreeing are different things, they pointed out.

An alarm broke the morning’s calm, saving me from having to come up with a half-hearted reply.

When I resurfaced from our merge, Xular had already crossed over to the comms desk. Aside from the alert, the hub was quiet. The day hadn’t fully emerged, the light outside still too sleepy to offer much illumination.

“What the Lrend….,” Agent Terrokk grumbled from the hub’s central console.

“It’s a data breach,” I reported, relaying the message pinging throughout the system. I released Ali’s smooth digital exterior, severing our connection, and switched focus to join Xular at their station’s panel ring.

The alarm disturbed the room’s dataflow, strengthening its currents. I adjusted my path, scanning the current underfoot before placing each step. “Do I have permission to connect to the core?” I asked once the room’s AI no longer had me in range.

“No. I won’t have you corrupting the system,” Agent Terrokk hissed.

The room buzzed with a flurry while the AI taskmaster worked to identify the breach. I didn’t press the issue. Instead, I passed Xular’s station, positioning myself discreetly at the edge of the windowed wall—a safe distance from the rushing whitewater electric currents.

The entrance pulsed open. General Larkkon stormed in and shot me an unapproving appraisal. His gleaming emerald figure joined Agent Terrokk at the central console. “The Aviator isn’t being utilized?” He hissed with a loud enough rumble to scold me indirectly. I stayed put and waited for the metallic man to answer for me.

“Leave it to us, sir,” Agent Terrokk reassured him. “The breach is identified. It’s only a matter of time before the intruder is apprehended. There is no reason to risk giving the asset access to the base core.”

“What do you think, Aviator?” the General asked without looking my way.

“I’ll stay on standby,” I answered.

I ignored the whirlwind of activity and returned to watching the view unfold outside the window. Vor’s light, the star this planet orbited, gained intensity. Somewhere unseen, behind the base, it rose over the horizon and chased away the night.

HQ quickly filled with agents. I didn’t recognize most of them. They scrambled to share information between stations and target their search.

The room’s dark interior pulsed as another group joined to assist. I recognized Amara’s steps when she entered and paused. “What the Lhra are you doing, Agent?” The soft morning light gave her an angelic glow despite her frown and quick temper. “It’s all hands on deck. We’ve got a bit of a situation if you haven’t noticed.”

“There’s a question about the system’s integrity.”

“Oh my NirGuard.” She rolled her eyes. “General,” she called to where General Larkkon was supervising the search, “I’ll take responsibility for the Aviator. Permission to assign him to monitor the comms?”

“Permission granted.”

Agent Terrokk shot me a glare but didn’t object.

Amara intercepted his glare and grinned. “You’ve had a head start. Let’s see who can locate the intruder first.” She took my arm and dragged me first to General Larkkon to authorize my clearance, then to Agent Xular’s station at the comms.

“This is a matter of security, not a game,” the metallic man grumbled.

Agent Xular shifted position without looking up from their task, making room for me at their panel.

“How can I help?” I asked.

“Can you find a needle in a haystack?” They spoke audibly, probably to avoid frustrating Agent Terrokk more than he already was. “We suspect it’s a Baet operative. And there’s a good chance they’re still on base.”

“I can give it a try.”

Xular’s sapphire head tilted, and their attention flickered away from their holo to settle onto my arrival. “This is a good opportunity to test your utility outside the AI project.”

Amara pulled on my shoulder to prod me closer to the controls, forcing Xular to make room for her as she scrolled through the data on their holo. Xular towered behind her, observing us with their piercing oval eyes as she relayed the data aloud.

“All outgoing transmissions are blocked. Held in stasis. The intruder will attempt to export the stolen data if they haven’t already.” Her voice dropped to an encouraging whisper. “A task like this should be a breeze for someone with your compatibilities.” She grinned like a co-conspirator. “Go get them.”

I nodded to confirm I understood my directions, then turned my attention to the comms system, merging with it. Only to flinch back and cut the connection. The surge’s sudden impact was like getting burnt on contact. Xular’s dark eyes lingered on me with an unreadable expression. Agent Terrokk’s focus also locked onto me. I shook it off and braced myself for the vast web of evolving data lying in wait.

When I reconnected, the threat of being swept out of balance hit hard. I struggled to sort through unconnected data to identify different communication layers. Everything, from soldiers on comms to coordinates for departing spacecraft, flickered through the network—and, in extension, filtered through me.

“Are you sure he can handle this?” Xular’s oddly accented voice came through the fog.

“Give him some time. It’s a complicated system.” Amara’s hand hadn’t left my shoulder. Her protective grip tightened.

The taskmaster identified me. Its current intensified, attempting to pull me in for analysis.

I escaped from my merge and called over little Ali. More eyes were on me than before. Everyone in headquarters had me in their peripheral vision, some hiding their interest while others didn’t conceal their curiosity. The tiny bot arrived, and I switched my merge to flow through her rather than link directly to the core.

I breathed easier with Ali’s help. Together, we pushed aside irrelevant inner-base communications to focus on signals intended for receivers off-base. Once the filters were in place, I gained enough control to return my awareness to my physical surroundings.

“How will I recognize the target’s transmission?” I asked Xular.

“Baetian technology has some distinctions from Vorgon technology,” Xular instructed in their instrumental voice, like vibrating strings. “Since you already have experience with Baet communication, if there are traces, I am confident you will detect them. They would likely disguise it as a vorgon transmission. Tricky to decipher with our usual methods. The underlying codes, however, should be easily identified with your unique skill set.”

Xular’s thought links gave me a vague introduction to this kind of interception. Not enough to feel confident—but I wouldn’t waste this chance to prove myself. Or, more honestly, to beat Agent Terrokk to the catch.

I submerged myself deeper into Ali’s network. The voices in the room around us dimmed. The more fine-tuned I became within the system, the more the physical world around me faded. There was a delicate balance between the two.

When I encountered an unusual transmission matching Xular’s description, I held onto it—preventing it from getting lost in the system. Then returned close enough to the surface of my merge to hold a conversation.

“I’ve got something,” I announced and sent the intercepted transmission to Xular’s monitor. A series of codes showed across their holo display, simple coordinates. Normal, if not for the underlying signature.

Little Ali went to work unwrapping the transmission’s disguise. I stayed in her subtle symphony to keep tabs on her progress, as well as to be on hand in case she needed my help.

The little bot sorted through the steps masterfully. My pride seeped through our connection, and her exterior displayed a giddy buzz.

The decoded encryption, however, put an end to my proud high.

Ali’s excited buzz dimmed with my change in mood.

I could decide not to forward this along. Let them figure it out on their own. My task was done. No one knew Ali had gone ahead with decoding it.

Ignoring the nature of the enemy’s transmission wouldn’t solve my dilemma—but it would delay it.

I looked to Amara, who was too excited to take notice of my change in mood. She had released her grip on my shoulder, and was busy rubbing our success in Agent Terrokk’s face with a victorious smirk. Xular, on the other hand, gave me a knowing glance.

I gave in with a sigh and sent the decoded transmission over to General Larkkon’s station—which just happened to be shared with the one person I’d rather not have to deliver this to.

Agent Terrokk finished scanning the information first before quickly saving and dismissing the file for further analysis. He shot General Larkkon a look that I knew would impact me immediately.

“Until we can find the leak, I’d like to request that the asset be returned to the Research Department.”

Amara’s smirk turned into a scowl.

General Larkkon had skimmed enough of the decoded file to understand the request. The rumble in the General’s voice deepened, and his eyes shifted to me. “Can you determine the export point?”

I brought the requested information online and sent the data pack to Agent Terrokk’s team.

General Larkkon signaled for me to follow as his heavy steps left the central console.

Agent Terrokk lingered behind the holo’s hive, watching the General and me with suspicion through the transparent projections.

I removed myself from the comms network and fell in line behind General Larkkon. Amara and Xular joined alongside me. The General took notice of my companions and looked to me, kindly allowing me to decide if he should shoo them away or not. I shrugged, not caring either way.

Little Ali hovered along with us. Uninvited, but also involved enough in the matter to warrant her company.

“I’ve found the intruder,” Agent Deore announced just before we reached the nearest conference room.

A single frame replaced the previous hive of footage surrounding those at the surveillance station. There was nothing particularly suspicious about the vorgon soldier at the center of the frame. He was one of the orange-scaled types, average height and thin. The only hint out of the usual was his expression. His eyes darted from point to point, more vigilant than a typical soldier.

“Send in a team,” General Larkkon ordered without breaking stride.

“The Director would like to capture the target alive,” Agent Terrokk announced without taking his attention off the target’s image.

“Naturally,” General Larkkon agreed. “Agent Terrokk, I’m transferring this matter to the Intelligence Department. You can take the lead from here.”

“Yes, sir,” Terrokk said with a twitch of a sadistic grin.

I shivered at the glint in Terrokk’s eyes as I followed General Larkkon inside the attached conference room. Was it wrong to feel pity for the enemy who had turned my world upside down? Should I take solace in knowing they would pay a hefty price for their crime?

The commotion outside fell silent as the conference room’s dark interior engulfed us. Headquarters seemed worlds away, leaving only General Larkkon, Amara, Xular, little Ali, and myself in existence.

“That was some good work,” General Larkkon complimented.

“I’m glad I could assist.” My response was automatic.

Amara leaned against the dimly lit table, arms crossed. “I’d like to voice my disagreement. The Aviator did nothing wrong; there’s no reason to isolate him.”

“Agent Amara, this decision has nothing to do with your tasks. Quite frankly, there’s no reason for you to involve yourself here.”

“Someone has to stick up for him. He’s not allowed to do it for himself,” she protested.

“Agent Amara,” Xular’s music cautioned from their temporary mouth, “you’ve made your statement. This is the General’s decision to make.”

“That goes without saying,” General Larkkon confirmed. I nudged closer to Ali, seeking an outlet away from the intensity in this small dark room. Her tiny symphony was welcoming, as always. Tempting me to escape entirely into my cybernetic sense. I stayed attentive enough to hold the conversation that I doubted would be much of a conversation at all.

“Aviator, for the time being, you’ll no longer have access outside of your training quarters. This is not a punitive decision; it’s strictly for security reasons. We will continue the project with the AI relocated to your quarters until completion. Once the leak is found and taken care of, I will make it a priority of mine to get your access restored.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered with a posture and tone carefully reflective of a soldier. Except I had little Ali at my side, and not all of my attention was present with them here.

“Agent Xular,” the General’s voice thundered on, my involvement in the conversation effectively coming to an end. I stayed only present enough to follow the conversation cues. Amara noticed, her eyes narrowing and a half smile tugging at her lips. General Larkkon’s rocky voice continued, “Will this present much of an obstacle to the project?”

“Not at all, sir.” Xular’s vibrating words had a way of cutting through the fog of my merge. “We’ve finished the groundwork. I don’t see this as being much of a hindrance as long as Agent Amara has clearance to bring in the equipment we need.”

“I’ll make sure to streamline the procedures as much as possible,” the General agreed.

Amara stepped away from the table, bringing their attention away from me. She started talking, stalling. I released little Ali when I’d finished downloading what I wanted from the core, then shifted a step away from the AI to signal to Amara I was done.

“Can I escort him back to his quarters?” Amara asked.

“If that’ll put a stop to your objections,” General Larkkon relented, treating her like a petulant child.

Xular reached their hand toward me. I accepted their connection.

This is only a minor setback. Their musical thoughts attempted to peer into my state of mind.

I removed my fingers from theirs. Not giving them a chance to offer more false reassurances. They, like the others, might know the facts around my case—but facts couldn’t describe the pain of being shuffled around, poked and prodded into doing what others claimed to be my duty. Only to be locked away indefinitely. Again.

Their large black eyes weighed on me, but they did not object to my lack of deference.

Amara saved me from having to continue the conversation, audibly or not. She smiled and ushered me out of the room, back into the main area.

The agents were busy. A few of them paused to watch us cross the room. Agent Terrokk looked ready to intervene as soon as he saw Amara.

Normally I’d care about his objection, about the sway he had over my clearance. Without that being relevant, his metallic glare held no weight.

“Aviator,” General Larkkon called from the open conference room, “take the AI with you.”

The little bot whizzed over and entered the transport with us. I caught a final glimpse of the oncoming morning beyond the windowed wall.

“I’m sorry you have to put up with being isolated again,” Amara said as the pod walls closed, erasing the view along with the hub’s organized chaos. The bot housing Ali floated between us, blissfully unaffected.

“It can’t be helped,” I answered with an unconvincing shrug.

Her presence was as calm as the soft diffused light bathing us, erasing any awkward tension that might otherwise fill the pod while it shifted into motion.

“What did you ask the AI to download?” she asked with a smirk. Her brown hair drifted in front of her mischievous eyes.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

She kicked me playfully. “Come on. You can trust me.”

For some reason, I didn’t question that I could. “I tried to find my file.”

“Then you were a shadow. An Intelligence Department operative.”

“Maybe. But what would a shadow be doing at the Kel space base?”

“And why would the Legion attack such a remote base in the first place?” She followed my line of thought. “Has anything come back to you? Any memories at all?”

She frowned, her brow furrowed to betray that she considered saying more before stopping herself.

“You’ve been involved in my case from the beginning, haven’t you?” I asked. “You designed my training quarters knowing who I was. Or, at least, what I was.”

She gave a nod so slight I would’ve missed it if I weren’t lost in studying the curve of her slender chin.

“Is there anything about my past, anything at all you might’ve heard?”

She sighed. Not a promising sign. “Shadows are just that. Shadows. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I understood what shadows were, thanks to my skimming the core’s data. What she said was true. “They knew my name. Sort of. My operative title, at least. There must be a file somewhere,” I insisted. “I haven’t had any memories come back to me, but I’ve had…reminiscent familiarities. Combat training feels familiar. And my name. Other than that—” I cut myself off. What the hell was I doing? She was one of them.

“You were smart not to try to hack the Intelligence Department,” Amara cautioned. “They don’t fuck around. Whatever you were to them, whoever you were, it might not be the worst thing to have lost those memories. Shadows don’t last long. If they don’t die in the field, there is no retirement for them—they get eliminated.” She tapped her temple. “Losing your memories might’ve gained you a new chance at life.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” The illusion of a false norm I’d created threatened to collapse around me. I attempted a vorgon hiss, but it fell short and sounded more like a pathetic growl. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know who I was. Lhra,” I borrowed their curse word, “I don’t even know who or what I am now. And the scary thing, the really scary thing, is if it all came back to me tomorrow—I don’t think I’d recognize myself. I’m a stranger in my own body.”

The pod had become somber, and the current phase of color in the series didn’t help. We were both illuminated in soft blue. Amara sunk back. “You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like. If I were you, I probably would’ve had a mental break long ago.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I mumbled.

She raised her eyebrows. “Thanks. But truly, I wouldn’t blame you if you hated all of us.”

I shook my head and pressed my back against the pod wall, watching little Ali hovering at the center and wondering if I should exit from the last few moments of this conversation by immersing myself into her network. But this was Amara, and I wasn’t likely to get another chance like this anytime soon. “I only hate a few of you,” I admitted.