The Aviator Awakening

The General’s hulking form wound down the same path I'd taken earlier, in reverse. What had once been an inky black maze flooded with flashes of red became transformed with the lights on and alarms absent. Long curving corridors stretched ahead, as white as the room in which I'd initially woken. In the hallway’s confined space, the mass of soldiers and drones accompanying us gave me no option other than to match their pace.

The General set the speed of our march. My legs reminded me of my miscalculated landing with every step. They would be swelling soon, but I ignored the pain. The emerald giant we followed did not look back. His indifference caused the questions to re-ignite. I searched for some way to distract myself and reinforce the mental dam holding them at bay.

Lines of uniformed guards broke out of formation to jog ahead. They positioned themselves on either side of every doorway we passed, weapons at the ready. Just looking at the portal-like frames was enough to twist my stomach, reminding me of my cybernetic ability’s disorienting aftereffect. I shifted my attention away from the doorways. The only other thing to occupy my mind was the thunderous marching. If I was one of them—a soldier, as the General claimed—then the numbers surrounding me seemed excessive.

"This isn't necessary," I announced loudly enough to be heard over the marching.

The General didn't look back or change his pace. "Isn't it?" he replied.

I suppressed a smile as we passed one door in particular. It was open, and an investigative team was inside, eyeing me as I passed. A pile of soldiers sprawled limply on the floor, a handful of them awake and receiving treatment. Among them was my most memorable encounter, his naked neon orange reptilian body exposed, still unconscious. I put my hands in the pockets of the man's stolen uniform. The line of soldiers behind me prodded me to keep up the pace. I nearly snapped at their touch, overly eager for a fight, or for a reason not to retrace my steps to the place I’d escaped from.

The marching stopped, prolonged as the echoes died down. My stomach twisted for reasons other than my electric muscle memory. General Larkkon entered a familiar white-walled unit. It was empty now, almost unrecognizable, stripped of all equipment other than the hovering medical bed and a small tray at the crimson doctor's side. When I didn't immediately enter, the soldiers behind me stepped forward with a unified and thundering step. I waited for them to push too close. Just try it, I silently dared while drawing a mental line on the floor, setting the trigger point and preparing to make them pay for their earlier shoving. The General whistled an order, and they stopped just shy of my mark. The emerald giant came back into the hallway, placed a heavy leather hand on my shoulder, and ushered me inside.

My mind went blank. The weight and warmth of his hand caught me off guard, overriding a half-formed plan to run. A section of soldiers marched in behind us, filling the empty room to an uncomfortable capacity before the entrance closed by phasing solid. Anticipation turned the air as rigid as the transformed door, all occupants stiff with caution. My shoulder lightened as the General moved away to join the crimson woman.

His voice thundered through the room, a rockslide in the tense white-lit lab. "We need to have some insurance after your recent… activity. Doctor Lsar has been instructed to implant a tracker."

The red-scaled woman flicked a leather finger across the bed's surface by her side, lowering it to a bench level. I understood the intention. They expected me to return there—to the same bed I’d woken strapped against. I would laugh if it weren’t plainly obvious they were serious.

I took stock of the crimson doctor, my skin shivering at the sight of her, the chill I’d woken with suddenly returning. I felt naked then and now under her distant inspection, naked and cold with less autonomy than the loyal device at her side. Her ruby eyes held me captive, transporting me in time. I could see her in my memory’s eye, standing in front of the entrance security frame that accepted her but rejected me, abandoning me to go through repeated shocks from the bed's restraints.

Being confronted with her calculating gaze rekindled the desperation which had been my catalyst for escaping these walls. I scanned the room for potential exits. There were none. I was swept again into my waking moments. I could feel the restraints as if they were still digging into my skin. I saw her, but I saw her as she was when I’d cried out for help, blinking in her foreign way, unphased, and stepping out of sight to leave me to grapple with the unknown.

I suppose I could thank her for fueling the struggle that led me to my first sickening plunge into my cybernetic advantage. Ultimately, thanks to her cold-heartedness, I’d discovered the ability to break free from this room. And, by extension, the rest of this department. It was thanks to her that I’d reclaimed control.

And, it appeared, it would be thanks to her that I would lose it once again. My bravado threatened to flicker away, shattered by a single ruby-eyed glance.

I swallowed and shook off the memory, desperate to hold onto my composure.

"And if I refuse?" I asked. The soldiers tensed behind me as soon as the words left my lips.

"It's not negotiable."

“Consider your response carefully, Aviator. I'm willing to overlook your actions up to this point. However—this is where my tolerance ends."

I took a long pause. No one moved.

General Larkkon lifted a pebbled leather brow. "Am I not making myself clear enough? I can remedy that, if you like."

“I want answers,” I insisted in a low growl. The questions had only continued to mount since meeting this man who was supposed to be their banisher. “I owe you nothing.”

The General’s hiss rumbled through the room. “You owe us your life, Agent. Without Doctor Lsar, you would be long dead.”

“Yes. Agent. Be warned—you are reaching the limits of my patience.”

I grinned. “You think you are not also reaching the limits of mine?”

“I’m getting the impression you had none to start with.” His emerald lips frowned. “I am not your enemy. However, I cannot give you the answers you seek while in the presence of an entire patrol unit. Your case has been classified to begin with. And now… well, I cannot give any details until these soldiers are dismissed.” His gold-slit eyes narrowed. “Due to your actions so far, I can’t dismiss them until you submit to the tracker. Do we have an understanding?”

“What does it mean to be an Agent?” I asked, pushing off the ultimatum.

He hissed again, refusing to answer. The soldiers responded by lifting their weapons and setting me in their aim. I could probably take down a few of the nearest ones. Or I could go after the General or Doctor to gain leverage through taking a hostage….

“Aviator. Please. If you continue to act obstinately, I cannot protect you.”

“This is protection?” I stifled a scoff.

His eyes caught mine. They held an undeniable kindness. Unlike the crimson woman, who was watching this play out with mild intrigue.

“After this, you promise you’ll give me answers?” I whispered.

I bit my lip and forced myself to unglue my feet. I didn't regret what I'd done. However, I had no reason to resist anymore. My questions continued to rage, and this emerald-jeweled man represented my only source of answers.

The bed reshaped into a chair as soon as I sat down, its morphing surface deceptively warm as it webbed around me. I didn't struggle. Once I was secure, the soldiers—who only now allowed the grip on their weapons to relax—were dismissed and filed out of the lab.

Once they were gone, General Larkkon nodded to the crimson woman, his gemmed skull gleaming with the motion. She stepped behind me. Her fingers were silky cold against the back of my neck. I winced from a sharp pinch. A debilitating shock ran down my spine, and I temporarily lost touch with the world.

When my surroundings came back into focus, the discarded injector clanged against the hovering tray. General Larkkon signaled to Doctor Lsar, a silent dismissal. The woman put away her equipment and left without a word. As she approached the exit, it scanned her and dissipated to reveal the soldiers repositioned outside.

Before leaving, Doctor Lsar paused and looked back. Her ruby eyes scanned me like an anomaly she wanted to decode. It sent shivers through my skin and into my bones. I missed the lull of the alarms and the glimpse of freedom I'd found outside these walls. The soldiers parted to allow her through along with the few remnants of equipment from the vacant room. The back of her skull glinted like the General’s, tiny red gems ridging her scales, so discreet they were hardly noticeable other than the way they played in the light. When the green glow faded from the doorframe, the wall within it returned solid to taunt me.

And I was alone with General Larkkon.

"It's more than a tracking device, isn't it?" I said, more as a statement than a question. A background buzzing sensation at the base of my neck hinted at a lingering threat where the implant now resided.

"As I said, Aviator, you gave us a scare." General Larkkon accessed the chair, and it unraveled to return to its original bed form. The release suggested he no longer viewed me as a threat—or, at the very least, I was manageable. "I have a lot of questions for you. It shouldn't have been possible for you to get out of your restraints, let alone blind the cameras and make it out of this department. That's no small feat." He scanned me with an unnerving similarity to the doctor.

“You promised answers. Not the other way around,” I pointed out. "I want to know who I am to you. I want to know why I'm here." My imperfect accent weakened my demand. The answers I longed for had been delayed long enough. And a creeping doubt grew with every delay.

"You are a survivor. The only known survivor of a Niribian regeneration. A complete destruction and rebirth." General Larkkon smiled. “You represent a new hope for the Vor Empire.”

“That tells me nothing.”

The shadow of evaluation left his gaze, which I took to mean he would stop pressing me for answers about the escape, for now. "You were an Imperial operative. And now you're more than that. You've gained a unique skill set from the regeneration process. I intend to train you and draw out those skills."

The dread shadowing me stirred. Why was he still delaying information?

"I don't remember being an operative," I stated simply and adjusted myself to sit with one leg bent and resting on the shape-shifting bed with the other drifting casually over its hovering surface. Both were showing clear signs of swelling. My feigned confidence did little to reinforce the thin thread of my quickly dwindling composure. But, maybe, it might disguise the depth of my desperation.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" The emerald man’s words cut deep. He paced a few steps and sighed. "Aviator—I don't want to treat you like a prisoner when, in fact, you're a valuable asset to the Empire. But I can't deny a lack of trust between us. I'd like to resolve that as soon as possible."

“You don’t have answers, do you?”

He frowned again. My stomach turned at the confirmation of my doubts before the words left his leathery lips. "You might not be satisfied with the information we have," he admitted and flipped a small device from his uniform’s collar. He swiped through its data before sending it to hover in the space between us. An image came to life, projected above its sleek surface. It depicted a semi-spherical structure, some sort of manufactured satellite with a hive of drones moving within it. The edges on the severed side of the half-sphere were jagged and warped.

"This is the Kel space base. You were stationed here."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" The image had me drawing a blank. I swallowed back a flood of angry frustration. Earlier, this mounting anger had fueled me forward. But now I could sense the implant—and the invisible leash it represented. Dread replaced my anger as my cybernetic intuition confirmed its lingering danger. My leg stopped swinging, my feigned confidence ground to a halt. Whatever semblance of control I might've gained was lost. No course of action could be taken, no escape possible.

How did I get here? My entire being begged to escape from this nightmare.

"You're an operative, Aviator. And a Lrend good one at that.” The General droned on. “But shadow operatives like you don't have files. Your handler didn't survive the attack, and you…well, I don't need to explain that, do I?"

“You lied to me.”

“It was necessary. You weren’t acting rationally.”

The questions spiraled out of control. However, at the same moment, the doctor’s implant buzzed as it settled against my spinal cord. A final reminder that I wasn't going anywhere. Rage flooded my veins, then just as quickly froze into despair.

I shouldn’t be here. How had I been so naive? My damned desperation, the relentless questions. I could resist, but resisting would only mean backing myself further into a corner. I wanted to leave. To find the answers myself. But what I wanted was irrelevant.

If only I could go back in time by a handful of minutes and fight my way out of this mess.

“Did I ask to be saved?”

“You said I was saved. Did I ask to be saved?”

His frown told me all I needed to know.

We were silent. I wasn’t sure if it was comforting or enraging that the emerald man continued to accompany me. The holo’s rendering of the Kel space base floated, unaffected by the somber weight of the room. It teased me. Supposedly an answer. But its image told me nothing.

"What attack?" The sound coming from my lips was empty, too shaken for me to recognize my own voice.

"All space bases are spheres," General Larkkon stated. The fact gave new meaning to the floating semi-sphere. "The Legion’s attack came without warning, and the results, as you can see, were devastating. I’m sorry for your loss, son of Vor."

I shook my head, not understanding the reference. Every word from his mouth only elicited more questions. "What now?" I asked.

General Larkkon clasped his hands behind his back, broadening his chest and the aura of his glimmering authority. My knuckles turned white from my tightening grip on the bed’s edge. "I need to know if you'll be cooperating." He kept a quiet tone, although the impression of his words had shifted from empathy to demand. He could guess I had no desire to be here. But he had his insurance, which seemed to be enough for now.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" It was another question that wasn't a question.

"You've been through a lot." His eyes lingered on my uniform, which was not my own. "I would prefer to grant you some rest, but the nature of your abilities needs to be explored before we can determine our next steps. This is for your benefit as well as for the benefit of the Empire." He continued to watch me with analytical curiosity. Reducing me to a puzzle to be solved. "Until we know more, you will remain here."

He waited for a response. I didn't have one to give.

"I don't suppose you'd like to take this opportunity to open up about what you did to cut off the base cameras? Or how you evaded our patrols for as long as you managed to? We could reduce the number of tests needed if we know more about what we’re dealing with."

When I still didn't answer, his massive shoulders sank, and he sighed. His reptilian figure was surprisingly easy to read. "I regret I can't give you more information. There's a chance that, with time, your memories will return." He straightened up, and his voice took on a more authoritative tone. "For now, I will leave you in the hands of Doctor Lsar. We need answers, and until we have more information, I cannot move forward with your training."

"How do you know my name?" I asked before he reached the exit. "It's not even a name, is it? But it's familiar."

He paused. "It's your operative title. Your coworkers at the Kel space base could only give us that much." A glint of hope in his voice signaled he took my curiosity as a good sign.

"Can I meet them?" I asked. I hated how much pleading leeched into my voice, stripping my intentions bare. It was clear I wouldn't find answers about my past here.

"Most of them perished in the Legion's attack. The surviving Kel operatives remain stationed there, and it's not possible yet to permit you to leave. You are a security risk, as well as a significant investment."

I didn't respond to the second half of his statement. "What's the Legion?" I asked.

"The Baet Legion. You can thank them for your injuries and, by extension, your current predicament." The emerald man evaluated my expression, but I wasn't letting anything else show. At this point, I was too numb to be anything other than indifferent. "If you cooperate, we can eventually get you back into the field. You might come across someone who worked with you along the way."

It was an empty promise. Conditional on my service to this Empire that kept being mentioned. Part of me wanted to hate this man as much as I disliked the situation I found myself in. But his eyes were kind. And I was tired.

When I didn't reply, he took his leave. The doorway dissipated, and I caught hesitant glances from a number of the soldiers stationed outside. Then, once again, I was alone within these sterile white walls. The feeling of being watched pricked at my nerves. It was tempting to cut off the cameras, to disrupt the flow of current within the walls like I had when I first broke free of this unit. Anger burned at the recognition of being unable to risk pushing the limits further than I already had. I searched for something else to focus on, to avoid the unrelenting questions. The room was disturbingly silent.

I exhaled a deep breath, closed my eyes, and lay on the single object in the room. The bed’s warmth gave a false sense of security. I accepted its illusion of safety in the absence of anything else, and waited.