Warborg - Star Panther (5 page)

^So I gotta be one with my ship. This ain’t one’a them Zen things is it?^ Martin chuckled at the mental image of him burning incense and chanting a mantra as he flew into battle.

Reese sadly shook his head. ^No, this isn’t a Zen thing, it’s as real as it gets. You got your virtual cockpit going?^

^Well, yeah.^

^Shut it down and go into your panorama mode.^

Martin eyed his companion suspiciously as he complied with request. ^Ok, what now?^

One of the drones fired up under Reese’s command and moved off.

^See the drone Martin, follow it. Don’t think about the ship’s controls, don’t even think about the ship. Just concentrate on following that drone.^

^Ok.^ Martin concentrated on the drone. Nothing happened. ^I’m just not getting it Reese.^ The pangs of frustration starting.

^It’s ok Martin, relax. The drone’s the ball in a game of catch Martin, go get it.^

^Dammit Reese, how am I supposed to chase it down with no contr . . . chase it down?
^ Chase it down!
RUN YOU IDIOT!!
^Oh holy shit!^

Reese’s head rolled back and he roared with laughter as he watched Martin’s ship explode into full thrust and blast into the distance barely missing the drone. ^Yo Martin, I think you over shot your mark.^

^No shit Sherlock, whoaa.^ Martin’s laugh was contagious as he desperately tried to get his new found body under control.

              . . .

^Damn Reese, I think this thing was easier to control the old way.^ Martin sputtered, as he once again fought to regain control of his seemingly possessed ship. ^Do these damned things ever go where you want‘em to or do they just continually do their own thing and you spend the entire time fighting to keep them going in a general direction?^

^Just takes time, Martin. You’ll get there.^ Reese smiled and winked. ^If you don’t lose your mind first.^

^Oh thanks for the vote of confidence.^ Martin grated as his ship once again started to tumble as he finished a mock attack on a drone, seemingly of its own accord. ^Oh for Christ’s sake . . . oh you piece of shit, jeez. Now you come back here, dammit.^

^Well, I’m going to leave you two love birds to work things out and get a back-up servo system checked out.^ Reese smiled and shook his head as Martin’s ship rolled unexpectedly during a maneuver and another stream of verbal abuse followed.

^Thanks for everything Reese, hey and leave me one of the drones, would ya.^

^Oh you are a glutton, no problem.^ Reese was rolling in laughter as he faded out.

              . . .

Reese smiled by reflex when Brian asked him how Martin was doing. ^I’ll tell you what, Brian. He’s catching on real quick. You know as well as I do that I’m not the best fighter jockey around, but I’ve sure as hell been around some of the best and seen them work.^

Brian nodded. ^And you think he may be one.^

^Yeah, Major. I think he may be the best I’ve ever seen.^

Brian raised his eyebrows and grunted. When Reese called him Major he was dead serious.

^It’s only been three days since he figured out how to interface with his ship, but this morning he flipped through a move I’d never seen. I though he’d lost control until he did it again a few minutes later. Brian, if I were that drone I would have wound up with his left turret jammed up my butt and not a clue how it got there.^

^Hmmm, is he ready?^

^Yes sir, but I imagine Martin wouldn’t think so. In fact he’s convinced he can’t fly that ship at all. Dangedest guy I ever seen.^ Reese shook his head in consternation. ^We can take him out anytime.^

^Thanks Reese.^ Brian disconnected with a wink.
Reese if you had seen the combat reconstructs of Martin I have, you would understand. Man, as a bio he would have been a tough nut, I wouldn’t have wanted to take him on. As a warborg . . .
He shook his head and moved on to other things.

              . . .

“Well, made a total fool out of myself today. . . again” Martin fretted to himself. “I just hope Reese will still wing with me. God, I’m a putz.” He sighed and thought about his family.
Guess I might as well take care of that problem too. The perfect end to a perfect day.

“Martin! Damn, what a surprise.” Will settled into his chair in front of the vidphone.

“Hi, Will.” Martin sounded subdued, his face looked strained.

“Hey what’s up little bro? You don’t look too happy. Where are you?”

“I’m still on station.”

“Whoa, burn’in the big bucks. What’s up?” Will was getting more concerned; Martin was usually jovial and talked non-stop.

“No, it’s not costing me anything . . . I’m using my own commgear.” The voice was almost too quiet to hear over the vidphone.

“Martin, what’s going on?” Will hesitated a moment. “Your own gear?” Martin seemed to be blinking back tears. “Come on, give.”

“Will,” Martin was visibly unsettled. “I’m a cyborg.” He seemed to deflate even more after the statement.

“What do you mean you’re a cyborg?” Will felt the first tinge of horror.

“I’m a cyborg, Will, a goddamned tinman.”

“What, no way . . . if this is a joke . . .”

“No joke, Will.” Martin seemed to droop even more. “Just a bad dream, a never ending, fucking bad dream.”

“But how . . . when . . .” Will battled the conflicting emotions. “Then how in the hell am I seeing you?”

“It’s a hologram, Will. I have it so I can communicate.”

“Oh dammit Martin, What the hell happened?”

“My ship hit a goddamned piece of wreckage, and BANG, I wake up as this. It happened about a month ago.”

“Just like that huh, shit. God, Martin, I just don’t know what to say.” Will struggled to find the words for his brother.

“Really nothing to say. It’s done, now I’ve just gotta make the best of it.” Martin shrugged with a pinched face.

“This really sucks bro. How’re you holding up?” Will realized he was staring at the image in the vidphone trying as if trying to assure himself it was Martin.

“I guess ok, it’s got its good times as well as the bad ones.” Martin perked up. ”The other day, as part of my check out I pulled a fifty G turn mixed with a roll. What a friggin’ rush.”

Will smiled; this was more like the old Martin. “Oh so I take it you’re still flying. What kind of ship have you got?”

Martin stumbled for a second. “I don’t have a ship Will, I am the ship.” Martin saw his brother’s confused look. “Will, don’t you get it? I’m a cyborg now, I become whatever I’m put into. All that’s left of the old me is a brain-bucket.”

Will felt a little sick.

“It’s ok Will, I’m getting used to the concept and you’re going to have to. I traded in that six foot lady killer for a light fighter tincan.” Martin pushed aside his gloom with a slight smile. “Wanna’ see a picture?”

Tincan?
“Ah, sure.” The whole thing seemed a little morbid to Will, but Martin was perking up. Martin’s image was replaced with a three dimensional picture of a spacecraft. To Will, it just looked like a haphazard pile of engines and weapons with antennas and mysterious arrays sticking out all over it. “Ok, so this is the new Martin huh. Well, you shouldn’t have any problem getting service in a bar, but I think you can forget hitting on the ladies. Oh, god I’m sorry, that . . .” Will stopped, he heard Martin laughing his ass off. “What?” Martin’s image came back on the vidphone.

“What?” Martin mimicked his brother, still chuckling. “It’s ok, ya goob. I’m still me, Martin, your little brother. You know, the pain in the ass that wrecked your car and embarrassed the shit out of you by throwing up all over your date’s feet. What was her name?”

“Oh shut up, ya perv.” Will shuddered with laughter remembering the horror of that night so long ago. “God it’s good to talk to you again, it’s been too long. We should really try and ge . . .” Will faded. “I guess we can’t can we, get together I mean.”

Martin looked sad. “No we can’t, Will. And that’s the toughest part. This is all that can be. I’m not even allowed inside one light year from Earth.”

“What? Why?” Will shook his head.

“I’m a warborg, Will.”

Will was surprised at the pride that came through with that statement.

“That means I’m so fucking dangerous they don’t want to take a chance on one, me losing it, or two, deciding to rearrange the governmental buildings out of pure frustration. And I can’t be disarmed because I AM the weapon.” Martin laughed. “Besides, for all this built in nastiness, this tincan doesn’t do well inside an atmosphere.”

“Martin?”

“Yes, Will.”

“Are you sure you’re not turning into some kind of megalomaniac?”

“No, the megalomaniacs ask for the big planet buster tincans. I’m just an asshole, or I would be if I still had one.” Martin smiled and winked.

“You’re still a sick person Martin.” Will leaned back in his chair and assumed a very condescending expression. “You mean you asked for that space going scrap heap?” He knew he’d get a response.

“Hey doggone it, it was the only thing they had in my size. Aside from some prissy maintenance tincan, and it’s really tough to be a manly man when your main appendage is a feather duster.” Martin’s image turned to the profile and he sniffed in disdain.

“I hate to get serious Martin, but have you told mom and dad?”

Martin rubbed his temple. “No Will, you’re the only one I’ve contacted. I wanted to see how you’d react before I told the others.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I think Angel won’t have much to say about it. You and her were never very close.”

Martin nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, that’s kind’a what I though too. Would you mind talking to her, you guys always got along.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m going to tell her you’ll contact her as soon as you get a little more settled.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know what to do about mom and dad. With mom’s health, I just don’t know.” Martin sighed knowing this would be the tough part. Will and he had a history and he knew how his brother would react. But the others . . .?

“I guess you know mom’s the real problem. She didn’t like you going into the service in the first place, and now this. I think pop could handle it ok, but mom?” Will shrugged.

“This really sucks.” Martin sighed, then moaned, “What the hell am I gonna do, Will?”

“Well, I can tell you from our conversation here, if you hadn’t told me I wasn’t really talking to you, I would have never known otherwise. This hologram program is really . . . really good kid. I know it seems like a shitty thing to do, but for now you just could act like nothing’s changed.”

“Yeah, but I was supposed to rotate back home in ten months. And now . . . I have no idea what’s going to happen.” Martin shook his head in dismay. “The only thing I can tell you is I won’t be coming home like this. And I’m sorry, it maybe selfish, but I refuse to change into a tincan that I wouldn’t like, just to come home. Once you’re in a tincan you’re in it for a least a year. Besides I have a feeling that they aren’t going to let me off the hook too easy, experienced pilots are hard to come by for borging. Most of the time when something happens, you either get out in reasonable shape, or you don’t survive. It’s the nature of space combat.”  Martin shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

Will sucked air through his front teeth in thought. “I don’t know, I agree it seems like a dirty thing to do, and it’s going to make things worse when you have to own up to it.” Will studied Martin’s image for a moment. “Oh, hell. Don’t do a damn thing until I talk to Angel. Her and mom were always real close, maybe she can come up with something.”

“Ok, hey I’m really sorry to dump all this on you. But I just didn’t know where to start. They told me this was one of the roughest parts, I just wish they’d be wrong once in my favor.”

“Don’t worry about us, you take care of yourself and get on with your life or whatever. I’ll get in touch after I talk to Angel.”

“All right, well I gotta run. Just let me know when you want to talk and I’ll contact you on my internal system. There’s gotta be some damn up-side to this crap.”

“Take care.” Will smiled and Martin winked as he faded out. Will sagged in his chair muttering, “dammit Martin, what a stinking mess, ohh take care of yourself little brother”. He remembered the arm wrestling and general sibling roughhousing that could never be again. “Dammit.”

^Ok, so you’re ready to go?^ Brian’s image was somber.

^Yes sir, I guess I am. I just left the bay. They checked out the ship and it’s ready to roll. I took on a full compliment of missiles and had the pulse cannons hard cycled.^ Martin still didn’t feel ready, but he’d been at it for two weeks and knew the rest of the squadron was getting impatient.

^Very well. Captain?^ He looked away from Martin and said something.

Commander Britain’s image appeared beside Brian.

Martin pulled himself up straight and saluted the Commander. ^Captain Martin Morgan reporting for combat duty, Sir.^

Britain snapped a return salute. ^Welcome to the Military Combat Cyborg Command Captain. I know you will serve with pride and honor.^

^Thank you Sir, yes Sir.^

^Carry on Gentleman.^ Both junior officers saluted and Britain answered with a salute as he faded out.

^Short and sweet, just how I like them.^ Brian smiled at Martin. ^Jester is on scramble alert for another four hours. You know the drill.^

^Oh yeah, some things never change.^ Martin’s smile faded. ^Brian, before we get too busy I just wanted to say thanks. It’s been a bizarre couple of weeks, without you and the others I don’t think I would have made it.^

Brian smiled and chuckled. ^Just show me we weren’t wasting our time and I’ll be happy.^ He winked and flickered out.

              . . .

^That’s us.^ Reese commented as Space Command finished with the intruder report. “Roger Command, Jester two and four proceeding to designated intercept point.”

“Copy, Jester two and four to intercept.” The female voice was quiet and precise.

“Roger, Command.”

“Good luck, Command out.”

^Initialize FTL
[2]
on my mark.^ Reese was all business as he performed his senior wingman duties. ^Mark.^

Martin engaged his FTL and watched as the space around him seemed to bend for a second then they were back in real space.

Reese came back a split second before Martin. ^Martin, I see four Koth light fighters eight o’clock low, six hundred kilometers.^

^Got ‘em^ Martin was interrupted by Brian signaling for a voice only hard link. ^Go Brian.^

^Dottie and I are just clearing the bays what is your situation?^

^Four Koth lights.^ Martin heard Reese reply.

^Ok, I want Martin to lead, Reese take clean up. Dottie and I will be there in a few seconds for cover. Copy?^

^Sounds good, Martin you are point.^ Reese confirmed.

^Roger, wingleader.^ Martin responded, hurling his ship toward the Koth fighters.
So they want to see what the new guy can do, alright let’s all find out if I can fly this twitchy bastard in a fight. I don’t blame ‘em, I’d want to know if the guy guarding my back could get the job done.
He mentally took a deep breath few seconds before engaging and tongued the button that released a minuscule amount of synthetic adrenalin into his container. He braced himself as the icy brightness welled up in his mind and everything around him settled into brittle crystalline clarity.

. . .

Dottie and Brian phased in and split to cover opposite sides of the combat zone in case any of the Koth broke out to make a run for it. Reese was following a few seconds behind Martin.

^Damn, he’s closing too fast.^ Dottie fretted. ^I’ll cover him on his exit.^

^Hold position Dottie. Let him have his run.^ Brian’s voice didn’t convey his growing excitement.
Ok Martin, do your stuff. Commander Briton didn’t go into any details when he told me to give you some room to work, I just hope Briton knows what he’s doing. You’re too nice a guy to just feed to the wolves.

. . .

Two high, two low, cue ball time.
Martin thought as he raced toward the Koth fighters holding his ship sideways, minimizing his own profile. He fired four missiles, one toward each Koth and grunted his satisfaction as they were forced to break formation to evade them. Two Koth fired missiles in return.
Too little too late boys.
He slammed the ship with maximum deceleration, snapping into a roll, the missiles streaked by.

He was on them.
It’s party time, who wants to dance, you ugly twits.
With a mental flick, his fighter cart wheeled sideways over the top two Koth fighters. All four of Martin’s thrusters screamed as they spun and danced on the strings of a gifted puppet master. Both turrets rained ion pulses on the hapless Koth.
It’s raining, it’s pouring, all my guns are roaring. Bye, Bye.
Martin again hammered his still wheeling fighter with deceleration while arching over his targets. The Koth fighters split to evade the ion pulses.
Thank you.
Martin drove his gyrating fighter between the Koth. For a split second he was endwise to both Koth and fired a pair of missiles from each side at point blank range.

One Koth took both missiles dead center and simply ceased to exist. The other Koth sensing the attack curled his three segment ship to flip out of the way, but was too late, one missile missed the other took off an end segment.

See yaaa
, Martin thought peripherally as the damaged fighter reeled away then failed entirely, never taking his eyes off the two remaining Koth pouring energy pulses in his direction. He jammed his fighter to the side and arrested the cart wheeling, charging straight at the closer Koth. He ‘felt’ the dull thump of a single energy pulse hit on his ship.
Oh very good, but no kewpie doll today, sponge head.
He dove his ship around the outside of the Koth fighter using it to block the other Koth and kicked the trailing end of his ship around as he passed by keeping one turret locked on target. He didn’t need any missiles, his ion pulses liberally perforated the Koth, transforming the high technology ship into a derelict. Martin loosed two missiles at the remaining Koth as he broke cover then powered through a lopsided pin wheeling somersault to evade the returning fire as his foe evaded the missiles.
This boy’s good . . . just not good enough.
He flashed over the last Koth and managed to get in a broadside with both turrets at spitting range. Both end segments of the Koth exploded; because of the distance between Martin’s turrets the center section was virtually untouched.
Now there’s one for the books.
Martin thought, then burst into elation, howling with delight and throwing his ship in all directions celebrating a freedom he never dreamed could exist.

. . .

Reese decelerated to a stop just short of the four wrecked ships. ^I guess I could follow him in and pick up a few souvenirs.^ He shook his head in disbelief as Dottie and Brian joined him in a hard link.

^Did I really see that, he didn’t . . . how in the hell.^ Dottie sputtered. ^Now what’s he doing?^ She muttered watching Martin’s ship gracefully spin and flip. Then she noticed a song playing in the background from Martin’s audio hard link, it was some of the ancient rock and roll he was becoming known for collecting. ^I am Ironman?? Brian, he’s dancing with his ship.^

^Yep, looks like it.^ Reese winked and cocked his head with a ‘so what’ shrug.

^He’s a madman.^ Dottie grumbled.

^Nope, he’s a warborg.^ Brian disagreed with a smile.

^Madman, warborg,^ Reese rumbled, ^is there difference?^

The others shook their heads in sad agreement.

^Reese, after he calms down bring him back in, get him in a bay for a check out and take him to Charlie’s Place.^ Brian smiled watching Martin’s continuing antics, he knew he had to get out of there or he’d be dancing with his ship in a minute.
It’s so pagan, it’s so damned enticing.
^Dottie let’s go home.^

^You’re taking him to Charlie’s!^ Dottie was delighted. ^I’ll put out the word.^

^Sure, no problem.^ Reese sighed, totally relaxed as he watched the other two ships fade into the distance then vanish with their FTL jump. He smiled, enjoying the music flowing from Martin’s ship, at peace with the universe, as the four smashed Koth fighters drifted away.

              . . .

Commander Briton watched the recording of Martin’s fight again at one tenth speed. ^Three seconds, unbelievable.^

^You know the most incredible part Commander, watch it again, he never throttled back on any of his thrusters through the whole thing. I don’t even know how . . .^ Brian ended with a shrug.

^I’m not surprised Major. It’s not widely know but there have only been a dozen or so Light Fighter pilots ever converted to cyborgs, and only three of them were really top level combat pilots. The first two didn’t work out, one was totally psyched out from getting his ship chewed to pieces around him, it was really ugly, and the other never really adjusted to being a cyborg at all. Morgan is the third, and was among the elite manned fighter pilots in the force, maybe the best period. When Doctor Swain told me in passing he had never seen anyone adapt to the container as quickly and comfortably as Morgan did, I became intrigued. Then I noticed when he was distracted and not concentrating solely on flying his ship his flying went from rose garden variety excellent into the realm of the surreal. I hoped that when he went into combat the first time he would concentrate on the Koth, not on flying his ship, and just do what seems to come so naturally to him.^

Brian studied his commanding officer for a second and nodded. ^Reese and I noticed the same thing. In fact Reese commented once that when Martin went into his zone it was like watching an expert street dancer; you can only stare in awe not quite believing what you’re seeing.^  He saluted. ^Request permission to go off duty, Sir^

^Permission granted.^ Briton answered his salute. Then broke into roaring laughter as Brian’s uniform faded into loudest Hawaiian shirt he had ever seen.

^Reese is taking Martin to Charlie’s as soon as they get back and settled. We’re going to introduce him today.^

Briton’s uniform rematerialized into a faded blue bowling shirt that had ‘The Boss’ stenciled on the pocket, then in smaller writing under it ‘at least until they find somebody who really knows how to run this tub’. It had been a gift from when he had been introduced into this cyborg community; it was still a cherished possession, even if it was just illusionary. ^Who gets the honor.^ Britain smiled.

^Reese,^ Brian sighed. ^Swain thought it would probably be Maria Schiller, but she really came down on Martin when he chose the Light Fighter. I don’t think they’ve spoken since.^

^Damn that girl,^ Britain muttered.

^Yeah I know, but anyhow, Reese has spent more time with him than anyone else so it just seemed fair. Besides, they really get along.^ Brian shrugged.

^Talk about opposites attracting, your fox and hound analogy really fits those two.^ Briton snickered, shaking his head.

^They’re a lot more alike than you think,^ Brian grew more serious. ^They’re a dying breed I’m afraid, they’re both true nice guys.^

^Hmmm. Sad but true.^ Briton paused, a momentary regret passed through his eyes.
I used to be like that before the politics and arbitrary sacrifices I’ve allowed for the sake of expediency.
^Has Morgan ever synchronized?^

^No.^ Brian rolled his eyes and gave a hopeless shrug.