The Aviator Awakening

Lab lights greeted me. I pulled against the restraints. Memories of how I had gotten to this point flooded back. I tried to push the gut-wrenching panic tightening around my chest aside to find some way out of this situation. But I couldn’t move—let alone think.

Doctor Lsar’s icy voice made my chest shrink tighter, my pounding heart suffocating my lungs. Her slick, needling words were indistinguishable through my panicked haze. I closed my eyes, calmed my raging mind through sheer determination, and pictured the layout of the lab—a place I was overly familiar with. I traced the sound of her pacing to the area holding her desk. If, by some miracle, I could remove myself from this bed, she was distant enough not to take immediate notice. Another voice joined in hushed conversation with hers. I froze. My mind skipped like a broken record stuck in time. I’d only been introduced to this amused tone recently, yet it invaded and entwined intimately with my fear.

Their conversation was too distant for me to understand what they were saying—or maybe my raging mind drowned out the words. My thoughts raced as fast as my heart. The restraints were excessive—my implant silent. I checked for its usual signature, and when I couldn’t find it, I understood the reason for the extra precautions.

I wrestled out of my petrification. My eyes flashed open, and a twisting dread pushed me to struggle futilely against the webs holding me down. The implant might’ve been overloaded during my attempt to override it, or they had something else planned. I wasn’t going to try to ask. This was the closest I was likely to ever come to being able to make a run for it.

If I could get out. Somehow.

If they made a mistake. A loose restraint. Anything.

I could run. And never look back.

The doctor’s footsteps approached, and her jeweled crimson head poked into view. A view limited to one direction, up towards the blank white ceiling. “Impressive, as always, Aviator. You’ve regained consciousness faster than expected. I hope you don’t mind waiting. It will take some time before we can get clearance to continue.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. Devoid of any empathy. She strayed out of visual range and returned to her desk.

Before I could get a grip on my panic, another pair of footsteps replaced hers.

My body reacted with a cold sweat. I struggled again against the restraints as if, by some benevolent twist of fate, they might loosen or I might be permitted to disappear from the world into the ether and no longer be plagued by existence. Director Vesar laughed at my effort, his leisurely pace stopping at the edge of my med bed. I gave up my struggle and searched instead for any currents within my cybernetic range of influence, grasping at anything that might give me a fighting chance.

Predictably, any hints of connection were too far to reach. Although I did sense a familiar symphony. Ali was here, somewhere. Too far to reach, too quiet to be aware. My panic twisted with guilt. I’d delivered my defenseless friend to this lab. Maybe it was only fair that I landed here as well.

The Director’s slick body nearly blended with the ceiling’s white glow. My heart skipped with erratic beats; my mind went blank, numb. His eyes… I couldn’t look away, although I wanted nothing more than to retreat from those bloodlust caverns.

“The unbreakable Aviator.” He placed himself directly into my line of sight, partially blocking the ceiling’s light as he leered over me, red eyes glinting under albino leathered brows. The gems embedded into his scales danced in silhouette like an angel from hell. “Unbreakable, but predictable. I hope you can forgive me for not dropping in sooner. I was curious to see if General Larkkon could make any progress with you. And it was necessary to observe the effects of a successful Niribian regeneration.”

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice shakier than intended.

His nose wrinkled, his jagged teeth clenched. “Fate must have a grudge against me. To think you’d get this far.” His harmonized laugh twisted with malice and amusement, making me want to vomit. “Of all the vermin, I can’t fathom how it’s you who survived—insisting on challenging me even after I sent you to die. In the most painful way possible, might I add? No one makes it out of that experiment alive. Which is why I kept this.” He traced the scar on his brow. “As a reminder of my biggest failure.” The laugh left his expression, replaced with blatant disgust.

The despair gripping me broke briefly, and I laughed. The world was caving in, my mind breaking by the weight of my panic and anger. What did it all matter anyway? Reality be damned. I solidified my eye contact with his hellish countenance, embracing my broken mind like a cornered feral animal daring the challenge to come. I’d always known, in a way. At least now there were no pretenses.

The corner of the Director’s mouth twitched, and his face came closer to mine. “You really did a number on General Larkkon. Even now, he’s insisting on being a thorn in my side. If he hadn’t been gaining influence with the council, I would’ve let this play out longer.” He backed off, only to flash a scalpel in front of my nose.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m not afraid of pain.”

“That’s true enough,” he acknowledged and dragged the scalpel across my brow in an exact reflection of his own scar. I bit my lip. But if he’d hoped for a scream, the heat of trickling blood offered me more of a refuge than a horror. I retreated into the hint of Ali’s symphony, transporting myself to an imagined connection with the tiny bot. Despite being imaginary, I found strength through her silent presence. I couldn’t break—not in front of her, wherever she was.

He finished his art and traced the wound with his slippery fingers. “I admit, you exceeded my expectations. If I had confidence we could contain you, this elaborate hoax would’ve become permanent. And you’d live happily ever after.” He rubbed my blood between his fingers, then wiped it off on my uniform’s collar. His eyes settled back into their icy calm. “But not to worry. You will serve a purpose for the Empire. And you can consider yourself lucky—for now. I can’t risk prolonging your panic for too long. You will be reset, like that headstrong AI of yours. Back to baseline.”

I bristled at his mention of Ali.

A grin twitched at his thin lips. “Did I hit a nerve there?” he asked.

I swallowed my protest, knowing if I let too much focus drift in Ali’s direction it would only make things worse.

His jeweled scalp tilted with a silent smile. “I’m looking forward to our next round, Aviator. I had nothing on you at the start of this. No ties. Nothing to lose. That’s not the case any longer. This next phase is where the real work begins. And, if you manage to figure it out—we will go again, and so on until you give us enough data for a more deserving candidate to pull through the procedure and replace you.”

A notification pinged from the crimson doctor’s desk. “The General has forced a compromise.” Her voice slithered through the room. She came over to join Director Vesar. Her deep crimson hue seemed born from the ice in his beady red irises. “He wants the Aviator returned to his department if the procedure is successful.”

I gritted my teeth. On top of everything else, in the end, I was just a tool to be traded back and forth. Director Vesar didn’t hide his annoyance. “That lumbering oaf was only useful because he was oblivious to the facts of the case. The General will jeopardize everything if he takes the lead going forward.”

Doctor Lsar shrugged. “How he’s used between tests is irrelevant, not a setback. As long as he remains accessible.”

The two of them silently considered my future. I wished they could have the decency to have this conversation somewhere other than right here, hovering over me as if I were an object rather than a person. I focused again on Ali, attempting to locate the soft tug of her presence. She was near, but most likely encased in a dampening pod. The only panels large enough to store her were near Doctor Lsar’s desk. I quivered beneath the restraints. I couldn’t get there. I couldn’t save her. Couldn’t save myself.

“Okay,” Director Vesar sighed with a hiss. “We’ll play this game again if we have to. But the asset will be kept under strict isolation. I’m not allowing any more risks.”

A third, unseen person waited in the room’s periphery. I wouldn’t have noticed if not for the way Nerzogk shifted his weight with a hint of uneasiness. I had to stop myself from yelling at him to get out of here. As if he might be in danger.

No, that wasn’t it.

It was because I wanted to be able to pretend he wasn’t a part of this.

Doctor Lsar nodded, her scarlet scales glinting. “Agent Nerzogk, prep the subject for a memory wipe.”

The two of them stepped toward the doctor’s desk and out of my range of vision. Whispering.

Nerzogk’s heavy steps approached. My body struggled with the last fumes of hope, the sound of each approaching step leeching my will away. For him to be the one assigned to initiate this process when I’d begun to think of him as a friend cut deeper than the Director’s scalpel. I swallowed, my body and mind struggling to catch up to each other. There were some things I didn’t want to forget, even if it’d all been a manipulation. I pictured Amara’s hazel eyes, her smile. I grasped onto her image in a blind hope that I might be able to keep at least those few seconds of memory.

And if not…I wished, for a bleak moment, that I wouldn’t survive. Not to be put through this again. I stopped fighting the restraints, giving up on any chance of pulling out of this. I let Ali’s symphony fade from the forefront of my awareness, hoping she might forget me. The little bot could survive, even thrive, under these conditions in a way I never could. It would be better if I could be a true machine like her, immune to the emotions twisting my mind and stretching these seconds into minutes, hours.

Nerzogk’s face entered the corner of my vision. As he came closer, I watched an unexpected hesitance play across his expression. We exchanged a look. The world stood still, his golden gaze holding more than just compassion. Resolve sparked in his eyes.

The restraints melted away.

“No.” Doctor Lsar’s guttural hiss pierced through the lab. “No!”

I didn’t question what was happening. Fearing it might not be real if I over-thought it.

In an instant, I was twisting off the medical bed. I moved instinctively, actively avoiding eye contact with the doctor and the Director, refusing to open the possibility of fear slowing me down.

Nerzogk drew a weapon, pointing it toward his superiors. “Get the exit.” His voice boomed, directed at me, although he didn’t break focus from the two gem-crowned vorgons. I moved without thinking. My movement, however, took me in the opposite direction of the exit. “Aviator, what the Lhra are you doing?” Nerzogk’s voice thundered in equal parts anger and disbelief.

I dove towards Ali, in the direction of her faint symphony. Doctor Lsar stumbled back. Director Vesar stepped toward me. I could shift my target, snuff out the nightmare he embodied. But I couldn’t be sure I wouldn’t freeze again, so I kept my focus locked on the panel concealing my AI friend. It melted away, along with the system’s protest against my unauthorized access. Ali’s shell kept her silent. I grabbed her—just as a scaled hand grabbed me.

Nerzogk yanked me back and sent me tumbling behind him. I rolled into a run, still clutching Ali’s cocooned prison, and bolted toward the exit as I’d originally been instructed. Without the implant, the security frame no longer held any power to withstand my influence. Nerzogk backed out, his weapon still aimed at the two council members. Once he safely retreated into the hallway, I closed the doorway and deadlocked its access.

Nerzogk’s hand against my shoulder propelled me into a run through the empty white corridors. I held Ali’s silent pod close to my chest. Tears mixed with blood from the cut on my brow. I wiped the slick warm fluid away to clear my vision.

“Thank you,” I gasped, still on the edge of disbelief.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Nerzogk said as he tore a strip from his uniform. Scattered red droplets marked our path across the sterile white floor. We paused, and he tied the ad hoc bandage around my head. “Put pressure on that,” he instructed while taking a band-like device from his pocket. He aligned it with my biocircuited wrist. The band wrapped itself into place, igniting the glowing veins in my wrist and blood-spotted palm. I wiped the blood off on my uniform—no, not a uniform. A white jumpsuit.

Shivers shot through my skin and bones. The change was a final confirmation of their deception. I’d never belonged in an Imperial operative uniform. I’d always been marked as a thing, a prisoner.

“Aviator,” Nerzogk sighed, his attention locked onto Ali’s pod, “we can’t bring that. It could be tagged.”

“The pod has a dampener field. It’s locked in stasis.”

“And you intend to keep it in the pod forever?”

I held Ali tighter. “It’s better than leaving her here.”

“Her?” Nerzogk’s eyes widened before softening with a chuckle. “Fine. It’s not like we have much chance of making it out of here in the first place.” A sadistic vibration underlined his statement. My blood turned cold. I knew what would happen if I were caught—but what would happen to him now that he’d helped me?

His voice’s rumble lingered until the lights cut out, and an all-too-familiar alarm filled the hallway. Reminiscent of my first memories. My first action, same as back then, was to press my palm against the wall and reach into the lines of current there. I blinded the eyes of the base to buy us a little more time.

The difference between then and now, however, was drastic. I was fully prepared to take on this challenge. And I wasn’t alone.

“Aviator.” Amara’s voice came from the band Nerzogk had attached to my biocircuit. “I’m assuming you guys made it out?”

“Out of the unit,” Nerzogk reported, “but not out of the department.”

“I’m preparing a spacecraft. I’ll send you the coordinates,” Amara replied. “If you can make it here before they can get organized, then we have a chance—as long as the Aviator can disable the tractor beam.”

“You guys are risking too much with this,” I cautioned. I was thrilled but also terrified—more for them than for myself. I squeezed Ali’s pod so tightly I was surprised she didn’t burst out from the pressure. As a precaution, I deadlocked the pod to prevent that from happening. I couldn’t believe that Ali might jeopardize our safety, but I also couldn’t add to the danger my accomplices were already facing.

“How about you just focus on reducing that risk as much as possible. There’s no turning back.” Nerzogk’s leather lips pulled back into a frown.

I nodded my commitment, and we returned to running through the hallway. I directed Ali’s pod to hover closely behind us. We continued at full speed until marching echoed between the alarm’s blare. I manipulated one of the doors, and we ducked out of sight as the group of soldiers and drones passed. It worked this time, but we couldn’t escape detection for long. I attempted to access the control towers remotely. It didn’t work. The systems were too isolated.

When we got closer to the exit designated by Amara’s map, the soldiers came in more frequent waves.

“I’ll make an opening to get to the air control tower,” I said as we retreated into an empty bot maintenance room. “You find Amara. If it gets too hot, focus on getting yourselves out.” I deepened my breathing to reach a balance of mind and body, the same technique I’d used countless times in the simulator.

“I’ll accept your distraction. But we won’t leave you after getting this far.” Nerzogk’s gold slit irises locked onto me to reinforce his conviction. “You’re capable of getting us out. I know that much.” He took a deep breath and clocked the distance we needed to cross. “It’s all or nothing. Understood?”

I nodded. He injected me with a boost, tossed the empty tube aside, and then did the same for himself. We peeked into the hall. Heavy-booted soldiers approached, the sound reaching us before they rounded the corner. Our exit was just beyond their position. Nerzogk and I shared a last glance before I left the safety of the doorway’s cover.

I closed the gap as quickly as possible, dodging what I could and tolerating the few stun shots that landed. The shocks ran through my body, temporarily blurring my vision. They might’ve slowed me down if I hadn’t already built my momentum. However, once within range of the closest combatant, I made quick work of it. Like running through one of my daily training scenarios—except with the addition of the base’s alarm, and this time against opponents who showed expression, personality.

After the skirmish, I felt eerily alone standing among the fallen crowd. Unlike the simulator, the bodies stayed solid and breathing after defeat. Ali’s pod settled into a static hover beside me. I borrowed a stun gun and a defense shield from the limp bodies and made my way to the exit. The alarm continued to blare. Nerzogk followed close behind. He picked up a communicator from the now unconscious commander and reported in, clearly familiar with the standards of the base to cover our tracks.

“That only buys us a few minutes,” Nerzogk said after finishing the communication. “Another group is on the same path.”

I nodded and opened the exit. Amara’s spacecraft was within sight. The air traffic control tower was at an equal distance, in the opposite direction. I pulled up the map to double-check our options.

“There.” Nerzogk pointed at a storage unit. “That’s a patrol unit. There’ll be skyboards there. That’ll give you an advantage if you can reach it.”

“You go first. I’ll wait a minute before raiding the patrol equipment. Once they’re on me, use the distraction to get to Amara,” I said and stepped aside. Nerzogk nodded. He traded jackets with one of the soldiers on the floor with a similar build to his, then stood tall and steadied his nerves.

He walked out of the department with a pace to match the swarm of soldiers throughout the base. He had an advantage over myself and Amara, with the ability to blend in with the rest of the vorgon population. I closed the exit. And waited. My bandage was soaked through and slipping. I wiped blood away from my eye. Ali’s pod hovered close. I checked it for damage, fearing it must’ve sustained some hits while following me into the line of fire. If it had, its surface didn’t show any indication of it. I breathed a sigh of relief and prepared for the next mad dash.

Once the agreed time had passed, I opened the doorframe. A patrol group approached. A few of the soldiers in the group skimmed the pavement’s surface with what I assumed were the skyboards Nerzogk had mentioned. I changed my course and waited for them to draw closer, calming my breath to tune into my reactive state of mind. When the group came within range, I bolted out of hiding and toward their center. Their reaction was quick, but not quick enough. I blocked the few shots they managed to fire with the shield I’d picked up from the hallway. After deflection, the pellets burned holes into the pavement, differing in character from the weapons used by the search parties within the department. I hesitated, fearing for Ali’s safety as she whizzed closely behind. My hesitation cost me my first target as the nearest skyboard weaved out of reach. In the distance, I could hear shouting set off by our commotion. It was unorganized—but the soldiers were already on alert, meaning their surprise would be short-lived.

I launched toward the second skyboard, knocking off the driver and attaching my newly acquired defense shield to the bottom before twisting up and finding my footing. My disorientation slowed my action while I adjusted, and a searing projectile grazed my shoulder. I lowered myself to reduce my surface area and positioned Ali’s pod safely behind me. Then I focused on integrating with the board for a precious moment.

The currents pulsing through the skyboard were simple. I tuned in with the flow, keeping some awareness trained on the chaos around me. Another shot flashed near my face, heating my cheek as it passed. I twisted away from the remaining patrol group and did some quick target practice with the stun gun I’d stolen earlier. My shots landed, and the patrol soldiers fell behind as I zipped away.

I turned my attention to the air control tower.

A wave of pursuers near where I’d exited the department geared up to chase me, but the stretch of tarmac between myself and the tower was short and relatively simple to navigate. I closed the distance. A force shield defended the traffic control hub, but I quickly bypassed it and slipped inside. It took only a few seconds to take care of the occupants manning the controls. Once they were neutralized, I re-established the tower’s force shield and replaced my now-empty stun gun with one of theirs.

“Aviator,” General Larkkon’s voice boomed over the intercom inside the tower. “You don’t want to do this.”

I ignored his voice and got to work. Ali’s pod hovered reassuringly beside me.

“I understand that you’re willing to take a risk. But are you willing for Agent Nerzogk to take this risk as well?” The General’s warning made me pause. I trembled from the conflict, knowing my time was limited. The wave of soldiers outside had become organized, creating a perimeter and closing in. “His betrayal will cost him his life. If you surrender right now, no one else will be punished for this transgression.”

My sense of urgency dwindled, obscured by confusion from the General’s offer. The stakes of our instigated chaos came into focus. I desperately wanted to leave all this behind. But for Nerzogk and Amara, this was home. And—even if we somehow managed to pull this off—I didn’t know our odds of survival.

“Hurry up, Aviator!” Amara’s voice interrupted from the band on my arm.

“Ah,” General Larkkon sighed over the intercom. “Are you willing to put Agent Amara in danger?”

“Nerzogk and I made our choice already. We knew the cost before any of this got started.” Amara’s voice radiated strength. A strength that shouldn’t be required from her.

Precious seconds slipped by. The base defense was closing in. Ali’s pod hovered silently. “Lrend it, Aviator!” Amara’s tiny voice shifted from calming to demanding. “I’ll never forgive you if you give up right now! You wouldn’t be protecting us—you’d be betraying us.”

Her determination triggered me to enter the AI core. I merged with the system, falling out of tune with the physical reality around me, unwilling to listen as General Larkkon issued more appeals over the intercom. I found the tractor beam and the radar. I wasn’t sure that it’d be enough to disable only those. I surged past the localized AI, stopping just short of eliminating its delicate existence. By the time I pulled out of the tower’s system, Vor-Vardos's space control was completely disabled.

When the outside world came back into focus, blood blurred the vision in my left eye, thick and clotted. I gripped the nearest panel and waited for a dizzy spell to pass before wiping the sticky coagulated fluid away.

The circle of soldiers had grown near enough for me to distinguish their features behind the shield’s rippled diffusions. Amara’s spacecraft lifted off. I collected Ali’s pod and prepared my skyboard for one last mad rush. The shields outside the control tower were ablaze with deflections, their capacity steadily falling.

Shots were fired from behind the mass of soldiers, from the direction of Amara’s craft, creating an area of weakness in the rapidly closing defense. I took hold of the moment, jumping onto my skyboard and speeding past the safety of the tower shields.

As soon as I was out, I faced a barrage of fire. I stayed low to the board and redirected the shield to cover my chest and head. My heart skipped as Ali’s exposed pod took direct fire. I risked reaching out to caress her pod prison’s surface. My panic calmed once I confirmed her shields were holding steady. My own shield was not as efficient. Stun shots leeched my energy while the critical hits grazed and burned through my body. The strain threatened to knock me out. The void crept closer. My vision blurred. I set my path and prayed if I lost consciousness I’d land in the spacecraft dock at its end—and, if not, I hoped I might be allowed to die here.

I forced myself to hang on, to keep the void at bay for a moment longer. To increase my chances as much as possible. My skyboard’s engine sputtered, nicked by a deflected shot. I caught a glimpse of Nerzogk in the spacecraft’s open hatchway, blurred behind a rippling energy shield. The mass of soldiers became thinner, and the prospect of our escape grew greater—until the skyboard engine exploded, sending me flying through the air. I was late in redirecting my shield, sacrificing the first split second of reaction to release Ali’s pod from the sky-board’s fragments. Time slowed to a crawl as Ali and I reached the apex of our upward momentum. My body endured a last mad assault of stun capsules before the ship’s shield rippled past Ali and I, offering momentary safety.

I squeezed Ali’s pod to my chest with an increasingly limp grip as we began to fall. With my free hand I reached uselessly toward Nerzogk’s blurry form, knowing our trajectory fell short of our mark. I closed my eyes and braced for a long fall to the tarmac.

Nerzogk’s giant fingers wrapped around my biocircuited wrist, pulling me up from my free-fall. His palm’s crushing warmth and a wrenching twist in my arm were my last impressions of reality before it all went blank.