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Second Chances - An Earth & Beyond Emulator Novel, Ch.II


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Second Chances - An Earth & Beyond Emulator Novel Ch.II
by Pakkrat

II. "I'm pushing her as fast as I can, Jenquai," protested Pakkrateus over his com-link with the still-nameless pilot in the Defender vessel in formation beside his Privateer. As the two raced their ships sector after sector across Aragoth system, the Jenquai had become insistent.

"You wish, Progen to arrive ahead of the news and security bulletins," warned the Jenquai pilot, "then you must push with all your so-called genetic might." It was true that Progen ships were not known for their warp speeds. The Maze Runner, Pakkrateus' home in space, was just under 5000 warp, her engines pressed and boosted by his shunting reactor and the turbo-warp device, the "Roadrunner Plus". And still the Shinwa complained.

"News travels fast," said Pakkrateus.

"And you have no time to ride the line," answered the Jenquai.

As the gates permitted them entry and egress into the next sector, Pakkrateus looked out his starboard view port. He saw the mysterious Defender's ship. It was a sleek vessel, aerodynamic and dart-like. It's swept and curving wings were like a ceremonial knife in the dark. Its hull was flat black for stealth and there were no external lights. It made the Privateer think of the stories he had read of ancient Earth assassins of the Eastern Hemisphere, 'ninja' they were called. Though it was known that Defenders were to defend Jenquai interests and their star systems, this Defender ship looked more like an assassin out of the blackness of space. There was nothing to identify the ship, not even a name anywhere on its hull. It was an enigma, a cypher on purpose.

It was assumed that a pilot's vessel was an extension of the pilot, so Pakkrateus decided that this Defender, whomever he was, was not going to answer questions of who, why and how over his aid to the Privateer. In turn, Pakkrateus did likewise with the Shinwa beside him. There was much bad blood between the Progen race and the Jenquai. Too much war. Too many unforgivable atrocities.

When the pain in his leg had become too much to bear, the aging Privateer finally lifted his medical kit, a cheap version, and performed some wound care on the graze he'd taken as a souvenir from Fenris Observatory. Every Progen was expected to be trained in battlefield first aid and Pakkrateus was no exception. He had never been shot before personally. He unstrapped his leg armor and unbuckled his boot to better access the burning wound. Then the anesthetic foam hit his shallow wound and he sighed a relieved breath. A quick bandaging would keep the wound clean.

Ahead was Akeron's Gate sector, this was the site of one of the most fiercest space battles of the Gate War. Akeron's Gate was the first discovered star gate and heralded humanity's exploration of the galaxy and humanity's battle for control of the "Ancient" gates. Man had learned to give commands to the gates via transmitting signals in certain frequencies and using harmonics to 'sing' the gate open permitting passage through their created wormholes to the connecting sector. Humanity, in its partitioned worldviews battled with itself over the proper use or restraint over the gates. It had escalated into the Gate War with Jenquai suffering the worst of it. Upon armistice and the peace treaty called Sol Security or "SolSec", the three races: Jenquai, Progen, and Terrans agreed to share the use of the gates under the joint buffer of SolSec, a peacekeeping force funded, supplied and equipped by all three superpowers.

Pakkrateus hoped, somewhat a long-shot in his reckoning, that the seasonal sunspot and radiation storms of Aragoth system's bright white star would garble any masercom beam transmissions. Thus he had to race to Sol system and into Saturn sector, the home of NET-7 SOL and headquarters of Net-7 News. If he could persuade his estranged clone brother to help him, the news could be given a supplementary data dump, never to be transmitted and the Doctor could provide other answers the Privateer badly needed.

The Procurator, his rank-title in the Collegia, picked up the cryo-cartridge from the console next to the half-empty Athanor heavy pistol. Gene-map preservation had come quite a long way from when the Sabine Order first assured the Centuriata iteration immortality. Back then, gene-maps were kept in larger pouch-sized cryo-canisters and had larger components. Over time the preservation technology had miniaturized somewhat to the fist-sized cartridge he now held in his hand.

As a Collegiate, Pakkrateus was not given to know the secret techniques the Sabine Order kept in order to perform the Call Forward. He turned the cartridge over in his hand. The happily blinking green diode assured the viability of the gene-map inside. *Who was this?*, asked the Privateer. What was so important about this gene-map that a curious Centuriata Warrior had to be killed? His brother could tell him.

It was a widely-advertised service played over the Net-7 News commercial blurbs and his clone brother took advantage of his news correspondent position to make it known that he had graduated the Sabine academy and was then a Doctor of the Call Forward. At first, he had kept it exclusive to the Centuriata as per the Progen mandates and privilege of the Alpha class Warriors. It was they who fought for the Republic and they who died, repeatedly. This repeating cycle of reiteration had inflated the egos of the Centuriata into believing themselves immortal so long as a Reclaimer of the Sabine Order performed his duties and recovered a fallen gene-map. Beyond that, Pakkrateus knew not how the process was undertaken to restore a fallen Warrior. But his older clone brother had moved out to Saturn and started his own business on the side of his employment with Net-7 News. The income was enough to set up an office there in the station, a flight above their lounge and tucked away like a dirty little secret of a newscorp known for exposing others' closet skeletons.

Was it a function of their powerful transmitters that NET-7 SOL's transmissions were the loudest and most easily-receptive in Saturn sector? When the two ships gated into Saturn space, the news was already blaring across the communications channels. Still nothing out of Aragoth but solar weather blackout, explained the news blurbs. News from other systems of the galaxy was coming in normally. As the Privateer and the Defender rounded a navigation beacon, a 'nav', Pakkrateus saw the face of Dr. Pakkratius once again on his monitor. Slowing to approach the station, the Procurator felt a shivery twinge climb up the left side of his spine.

The Collegiate was never one for metaphysics or other such mumbo-jumbo. Nor was he a reader of genetic sciences and abnormal psychology. The closest thing he had picked up on this sensation whenever he came into proximity of his older clone brother, Pakkratius, came from ancient Terran lore. And that was because he had been only mildly curious to see what Terrans thought of twins interactions. They had called it 'twinness'. It was rumored that identical birth twins (birth?), could sense each other when near. Some Terran studies in the realm of psionics claimed that there was some unseen connection between birth twins. Tests on Psionics who were born as twins were run. The same tests were given to non-psionic twins. Nothing conclusive was discovered, save that Psionics went on to further develop their talents and to be unjustly be segregated from mainstream Terran society. Non-Psi twins just shrugged and went on with the lore-based explanation and called it 'twinness'.

How this phenomenon managed to infiltrate the Progen Pakkrateus and Pakkratius was an unanswered quirk that perhaps genetics could answer if only the Privateer could get a Sabine to open up about it. The Progen race had long ago and on purpose bred out any psionic talents as distrusted and unwanted traits. It was a testament to purging impurity from the Progen of Mars Colony and the eventual Republic. The Progen it seemed compensated instead with cybernetics and genetic engineering, topics and education forbidden outside the Sabine Order. It was their version of a monopoly on genetic immortality.

The Defender veered off before the two could dock and wavered into invisibility under its cloaking capabilities. Pakkrateus guessed that he might never see the strange Defender again. It seemed unfair to be the beneficiary of such aid and not know who the Shinwa was.

"You got a name, Jenquai?" asked Pakkrateus over his vambrace's com-link. It was still in connection to the benefactor.

"I am but a voice in the dark, Progen," replied the voice. "'Reacher' will suffice. Yes, you may call me Reacher." It was punctuated with a fatalistic silence too thick to breach even as the news station blared its transmissions to the galaxy above them.

"Well met then, 'Reacher'," said Pakkrateus. "My name's Pakkrateus-" he was cut off by the Jenquai's answer.

"Collegiate Procurator Pakkrateus, captain pilot of the Privateer Maze Runner," named the Defender Reacher. "Your ship class mounts five (currently four) weapon hard points, extensive shields, heavy armor, sluggish engines, poor maneuverability, and is aging."

Pakkrateus bristled at the run-down of his identity and his ship's specifications. This Reacher, in such a short time had studied his beneficiary. His voice was not judgemental, but rather matter-of-fact. A vessel could truly be an extension of the pilot.

"However," continued Reacher over the tight connection, "your heart and mind is young and vibrant. What has aged you so physically?" This Jenquai was very perceptive of the Privateer. Almost nosy in fact.

"That is none of your business, Shinwa Defender Reacher," answered Pakkrateus in his turn to be cryptic and mystique. Two could play at that game. He did not know the Jenquai's rank-title as they came in "Shou-something-or-other". Most times, the Privateer glossed over such entitlements. He did not like his own rank, uncaring what others thought of him. Until her. And now she was dead and he was the most wanted person of interest in this mess.

The Maze Runner pulled into the hangar of NET-7 SOL and docked, the hangar robots attaching umbilical power and air conduits to the Privateer vessel. Exiting his ship, Pakkrateus felt the cryo-cartridge in his pocket as he walked swiftly towards the media lobby of the newscorp. As he went inside, he tried to turn his face from studio cameras and avoid eye contact with all present.

In the main lobby he tried to bypass quickly was some of Net-7 News most prominent reporters, anchors, and a small horde of production crew. Here was Zona Mason already coaching an interviewee as the two made ready to be on camera. The Privateer was thankful that his clone brother was not present here. He wanted to meet Dr. Pakkratius in private. Turning left and through some hissing airlock doors, Pakkrateus walked quickly down the tubular corridor to the smallish and spartan bar in the station.

Hoping for another drink, the Procurator was foiled by colliding with another Progen who was not looking where he was going. The Privateer had only split second of clue to whom he was about to stumble at the door with. Sabine uniform of black cargo jumper accentuated with an orange-gold light armor. When Pakkrateus looked up to the face of the Progen, he saw a younger version of himself. When the two bounced off each other equally repulsed, the Privateer recognized his older clone brother, the one that was to eternally look younger than he. Surprised and yet inwardly disappointed at his own plight, the Privateer thrust out his hands and caught two data-tablets that he had dislodged from the Doctor's grasp.

"Apologies, Sentinel," said Pakkrateus to his clone brother. He had seen him before in this very bar, but never this close. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing his own youthful past.

"May fault-...," answered the Sentinel Pakkratius who now studied the Privateer's face. Fast conclusions ran through his eyes as he did the causal math.

The Sabine took the initiative to break the ice. "You must be my rumored clone brother."

"Yes, older brother, I am," answered the Privateer.

"I had heard whispers that there was another me out there."

"I am not you, Doctor."

Picking his physician's kit he had dropped in the collision, the Sabine Order Sentinel said, "I doubt somehow this is a coincidence that we have come together finally."

"I need your help," admitted Pakkrateus.

"How bad is it?" asked Pakkratius.

The Privateer produced the cryo-cartridge in his free hand and held it up for the Sentinel to see. "It could potentially go to the top."

Dr. Pakkratius immediately recognized the cartridge and lowered his voice, "In my office." The two Progen then went back into the bar and up a side ramp to the next deck up. They entered a door that was labeled with the Sentinel's name:

DR. PAKKRATIUS, NET-7 SOL REPORTER

The Privateer noted the proud capital letters of his older clone brother's positions as he entered behind him. Inside the Doctor's domicile was clean, orderly and in the mini-lab, sterile. Despite the naysayers of protesting physicians and public safety interest groups malingering the Call Forward process, his older brother's equipment was immaculate. Pakkratius did well for himself. The two clone brothers entered the lab's work area.

Though the Doctor lacked the funds to have his own re-iteration chamber for the full Call Forward of fallen Progen, his lab did come equipped with a scanner. With the Reporter's connections with Net-7 News, he could easily compare the scanned gene-map with Progen databases and produce an identity for it.

As the Sabine went to work on scanning the gene-map, Pakkrateus spoke up, "I need a favor as well."

The Sentinel continued working on calibrating the scanner upon the contained gene-map. "Oh?" he asked, more interested in the scan results.

"I need you to squelch any news coming out of Aragoth system for as long as you can," requested the Privateer, worry in his voice that the Reporter might turn him down. "In finding this gene-map, I was set up as the killer of a Centuriata courier."

Surprised, Pakkratius let the scanner continue working autonomously as he looked back to the aging clone brother. He had to hear this story and how it connected with the gene-map.

Pakkrateus told his story of his encounter with the woman in the lounge at Fenris Observatory, omitting nothing and making sure he was clear that no indecency was perpetrated on the victim woman. Pakkratius listened with scientific analysis, withholding his judgement until the Privateer finished.

But before the Sentinel could give his take on the events put to him, the scanner ringed its results and displayed them on the smallish screen to be read.

"Mother of Progen Vita Theodora!" swore the Sentinel.

"Who is it?" asked Pakkrateus his nerves ramping up. This was confirming how deeply he was in hot water to say nothing of the murder for which he had been framed.

Pakkratius ejected the gene-map cartridge from the scanner and held it up almost reverently. "This was the warlord general Dahaka Khan, brother to our former Primarch Anjuren Khan, the very "Tormentor of Jove City" himself. How was this Reclaimed after these many years?"

"Somebody other than I knows and killed a Centuriata courier for her curiosity, but she got them first."

"Then, brother Privateer, you are now that hunted man."

There was a silence. The Doctor looked again at the cartridge holding the gene-map of the most heinous Progen warlord in recent history.

"Credits to the Codex," offered the Sabine Sentinel, "says that whomever reclaimed this gene-map wants to see if the warlord will answer the Call Forward. Do you know what that will mean?"

The younger but aging Privateer stepped forward and snatched the gene-map cartridge from his brother's hand and said, "Worth billions of credits, billions of lives, and billions of survivors' hatred should what's in here be Called Forward, brother."

Pakkratius, made the causal calculations instantly and nodded grimly. There it was. His Collegiate younger brother was wiser than most of his Faction. The return of the savage warlord would re-ignite the Gate War. Governments would want him for any number of reasons and would kill for this gene-map. No amount of money was worth the terror and horror the warlord's return could bring.

"You are a hunted man, brother," declared Pakkratius.

"It must be destroyed," answered Pakkrateus.

"That was the will of then-Primarch Tyr," recalled the Doctor.

"So be it," decided the Privateer. He would see to its permanent destruction. But how to do so with zero-failure, absolute certainty?

Pakkratius assured his aging brother, "I'll do what I can, but this could put me at risk too, brother. This is a big favor."

"Name your price."

"An exclusive."

Puzzled, the Privateer wrinkled his brow inquisitively at his brother.
The Reporter answered the unspoken question, "Since this favor you need from me could get me fired and ruin my accreditation and integrity, I want an exclusive interview, on camera, on record after you have dealt with this mess."

"If you'd have simply asked for bribe credits, Sabine, I'd have been disappointed," said Pakkrateus. "Done." It was uncharacteristic between the Sabine Order and the Collegia, but the two estranged clone brothers clasped forearms on the deal. The Privateer then turned and left his brother planning how to sabotage the feeds to NET-7 SOL's reception of Aragoth's news.

Shortly afterwards, the Maze Runner pulled out from the hangar of NET-7 SOL and into Saturn sector. Pakkrateus had no clue where to go next. Then his vambrace again spoke. Rats! In all this time he had left it the connection to Reacher active while inside speaking to his clone brother. He was about to cut the damned device off when it spoke with Reacher's voice. He was still nearby!

"I have an idea how to help you with the final destruction of the vile Tormentor, Progen," offered Reacher's voice of the com-link. So, he had been listening, thought Pakkrateus. When was he, Pakkrateus going to learn?

"Yeah?" asked Pakkrateus guiltily.

"Though I would love to see the Tormentor suffer eternally in pain for what he did to my people," admitted Reacher, "I can think of a way to get final justice upon the warlord."

"I'm listening," answered the Privateer. In truth, he wanted Reacher's input now that he had confirmed his eavesdropping on the encounter with Pakkratius. Dahaka Khan was both an infamous general and hero, but also reviled villain of the Gate War. Progen were not savages as the Dog Soldier units had led the galaxy to believe of all Progen Republic citizens. If the brutal Khan were re-iterated by the Call Forward, it would only paint the Progen in more negative colors once more. History might repeat itself.

There was an uncomfortable pause before Reacher spoke, almost as if the Jenquai Defender was weighing the same thoughts as Pakkrateus. "There is a one-way exit from this time-space continuum, Progen. Banish the Khan's gene-map forever from our universe through the Continuum Wrinkle in Xipe Totec."

"Sounds poetic, Jenquai," described Pakkrateus. "Never heard of it."

Reacher explained, "The Continuum Wrinkle was discovered in the Sirius system shortly after Prasad Station was completed and was partially responsible for the erection of the Inztlan Line, the shield that holds the radiations of Sirius at bay. It is a natural wormhole, Progen, but it does not open up to any known point in our galaxy or our universe as far as the Sha'ha'dem have discovered."

"So, we toss the gene-map of Dahaka Khan down the deepest garbage chute in the known universe forever, right Jenquai?"

"It is a fitting and immortal punishment for an immortal Centuriata fiend such as Da-....for the villain," explained Reacher with an edge of impending justice to his voice.

"Form up," said Pakkrateus. "Let's boogie."

The two ships, one huge and armored and the other black and almost invisibly sleek came together and shot into the night bisected by the rings of Saturn.

* * *

Across half the known galaxy, on Endriago planet, Tervanus Rex pounded a console for the fifth time in frustrated anger. Five times he had scanned the gene-map that his Reclaimer subordinates had brought him. Five times the scanner had told him that he had the gene-map of the Centuriata courier, Siobhan. He had been betrayed by the Centuriata woman! He needed to know what happened. Thus, the Reclaimer, Tervanus Rex had to delay the resurrection of the Khan for the revival of the woman. He had questions to ask her.

Here on the superheated lava planet Endriago, he had found Vinda's ultra-secret compound for her project that was under the strictest of security to non-Sabine. But Rex was a Reclaimer and had found it from within the Sabine Order. He and his men had stolen into the Sabura Project Compound in hopes of receiving the Khan's gene-map here and in secret. The newer techniques of Sabine Order leader Vinda were unknown to Rex, but her equipment and supplies for initiating the Call Forward were already here. He meant to resurrect the warlord locally and away from the public eye. He would have the most valuable Progen in the galaxy to himself and see where such fame and power would take him. No longer would he be just another repulsive grave robber of the galaxy.

Lava plumes punctuated his anger and frustration at the scanner's news. Rex' assistant, a subordinate Reclaimer asked cautiously, "What now, sir?"

Rex lifted the cryo-canister that had disguised Siobhan's gene-map. With a grim and ominous determination, he answered, "We ask her."

"You mean to Call her Forward, sir?" asked the subordinate. "What if she doesn't answer the Call?"

"Oh, I believe she wants to answer it," answered Tervanus Rex. "She was murdered by us. She'll want revenge. Centuriata are like that. Begin the process. I'll take full authority and responsibility."

Thus, as a Privateer raced across the galaxy to his brother in Saturn, the Call Forward began to beckon to the gene-map of Siobhan the Centuriata courier. Genes, personality and memories were re-iterated slowly into the comatose mega-grown female Sabura body. Even the Reclaimers were silent about the metaphysics of the Call Forward, preferring not to think beyond scientific logic over the process. If the woman "answered the Call" the cloned body would awaken with all the memories and personality contained in the gene-map. This process of course rendered the left-behind gene-map useless and no longer viable. The Call would be a success and the Progen subject would live again.

The Sabura Project Compound was the newest, most advanced collection of re-iteration systems to date. Vinda apparently had spared no expense here in secret. Rex admired the efficiency of the new techniques the class leader had developed. The minutiae aside and the schematics be damned, Rex needed those answers from the woman soon to awaken! He waited impatiently as the woman's body, forged from her genes as a Sabura, the first Sabura, accepted the answering woman's metaphysical presence again true to the Centuriata archetype.

There was an electrical jolt as the body's heart was started. Every muscle in the woman's new body flexed and tensed in tetanus. Then breathing began, eyes flew open in shock, surprise, fright, pain, and myriad other reactions. She moaned through the cushioned bite gag meant to keep her from severing her tongue with her teeth at the jolt. Systems whined lower and lower as the Call Forward completed. Medicines and other nutrients flowed. The woman was stabilized even as she panted for more air. Coughing, the woman spat out the bite guard and cried in the safety restraints of the table. She struggled in fright, pulling on the bindings.

Rex stepped up to the naked woman, newly Called, and spoke in a gentle but firm voice to the Sabura woman before him.

"Siobbhan? Siobhan, do you understand me?" he asked her as she spotted him.
The geodesic dome over the small and secret facility was not Arx Spartoi, the Place of Life. It was not the expected location for Centuriata to answer the Call Forward. She panicked for a time but focused on the man's voice. Rex. He was Tervanus Rex, the Reclaimer who had hired her to deliver..... Her memories were still piecing themselves together.

"It is called Iteration Haze, my dear," Rex tried to calm her. "It will pass in hours. But I need to talk with you, Siobhan." He waved his Reclaimer assistants from the lab. Alone with her, he continued.

"Siobhan, this is important. I know you are waking up from the Call Forward and suffering Iteration Haze, but please; can you tell me what you did with the gene-map package you were to deliver to the rendezvous point?"

She looked about as her body still tested the restraints at her wrists and ankles. Why was she still bared before him? Normally, female Doctors and assistants were already dressing the Called patient. What was Rex up to? He was a Reclaimer by Vita Theodora! He was not a Specialist. This was an unauthorized Call Forward she realized. She suddenly felt sick and somewhat violated were it not for her experience with her fellow male soldiers of the Centuriata. Her last memories before her loss of consciousness were hazily piecing themselves still.

She remembered trying to make contact with Centuriata Command. Rex had discovered the gene-map of Dahaka Khan. In a fit of curiosity, Siobhan had had the cryo-canister scanned and learned its identity. With the revelation came a marked need for orders from Command concerning the highly-illegal reclamation of the warlord-general's gene-map assumed from the Ruins of Jove City. But her call from Fenris Observatory had been foiled by the Aragoth sun's sunspot activity and radiations garbling the connection. She had broken the courier's code and was embroiled in the nature of the gene-map's political sensitivity. In fear for her life, she had swapped the gene-map with her own in case Khan's was stolen.

And now, here she was alive again having answered the Call Forward, but not at the usual Arx Spartoi station, the Place of Life. Rex had Called her Forward illegally and without authorization in this strange planet-side place. Endriago! This was the fiery lava planet Endriago right under the noses of the larger Sabine Order. Such arrogance and violation!

Rex read the montage of emotions across the new Siobhan's face. Did she know? He tried honey talk again. "Siobhan, please, tell me what you did with the gene-map."

"Go to hell, Rex," she breathed through angry clenched teeth.

"No such place," answered Rex dejected yet calm. "The gene-map, warrior."

"You would raise the Tormentor again, Rex?" she asked in protest.

"I had given that thought," he half-lied. In truth he had thought, a little, of selling the gene-map on the black market to the highest bidder for billions. But the prospect of seeing the warlord live again was far greater a socio-political prize.

"You're mad," she seethed in frustration at her inability to throttle the Reclaimer senseless.

"You should not have opened the box, Pandora," he blamed her in trade and using the ancient Earth parable. Seeing her struggle against her bonds, Rex drew a cart on rollers near to the restraint table and Siobhan.

"You will not have Khan's map, madman," declared Siobhan.

"I will." he answered as he picked up a charged pain-stick, an electrical prod device used in quelling rioters. "Tell me what you did with the gene-map, Siobhan."

"Death first!" she screamed at him.

"You had that chance, warrior," he said as he thrust the active tip to her ribs and gave her a crippling shock. Muscles tensed and she screamed in surprise, anger, and some small hidden fear.

The interrogation reiterated itself again and again as Rex tortured the information from Siobhan. She had been brave and trained to resist torture, but that was in another life. The Reclaimer eventually won out after having to change the battery in the pain-stick only once.

Breathing hard and in painful aftershocks, Siobhan had confessed she had swapped the gene-map with her own hours before her death and that it had been left in her vambrace disguised as her own armor's receptacle. This was bad news to the ears of the Reclaimer.

"Damn you, Siobhan," he spat at her. "You have nearly ruined my plans. Thankfully not all is lost."

"I am Centuriata," she seethed, recovering her wits. "You will not further dishonor us, you grave-robbing vermin."

At that and out of spite as it was a touchy moniker oft-aimed at the Reclaimers, Rex shocked her again. Then he activated a control on the table's machinery to angle Siobhan upright and vertical. Moving off as she hung there weakly, he wheeled over to her a tall mirror and aimed it at her.

In her reflection, Siobhan saw her naked form still restrained to the table. But then she beheld differences in the reflection she was familiar with. She had changed! Instead of dark, chocolate-brown hair and pale smooth skin, the image of her had lighter, dirty brown hair, and a tanned complexion over her entire body and was uniform in color. At first, it looked as if the Call Forward had erred by pulling hue from her hair and colored her entire skin. Her frame was the same and her face was familiar, but now there was a change in her coloration.

Immediately her fear heightened as she realized she was looking at her new self and inwardly quested for any inner changes that felt different. The Iteration Haze still plagued her and she cursed Rex under her breath for this violation.

"No, Siobhan," answered the Reclaimer. "You are no longer Centuriata. Let me explain."

Rex detailed the Sabura Project as far has he had probed and understood personally. Vinda had plans. She meant the Sabura Compound for some future project that only she knew about. From what Rex had gleaned in the schematics and other minutiae, the Sabura were to become the new Progen breed of warriors, with a few subtle changes only Vinda was privy to. Rex was pressed for time and needed a secret facility to resurrect the warlord Khan, and the Sabura Compound was ideal except for the now-revealed changes he saw in Calling Siobhan Forward. What these changes were internally was some matrix Rex was unsure of, so he had tested the facility. On Siobhan.

"You arrogant, irreverent bastard," Siobhan glared at Rex.

"Laughable, since all Progen are technically bastards," he answered.

"How dare you!" she was mollified by his sacrilege against the Centuriata and the Progen race.

"I'll dare much more.....Sabura." He said it with a finality in his voice.

"I will kill you and come back as a Centuriata once more," she tried to be brave.

"That is where you are wrong, Siobhan," he explained further. "You see the Sabura Project is a one-way door. The gene-maps can only be re-iterated into equal or descending caste. The Sabine cannot make a beta-caste citizen of the Progen Republic into the higher alpha-caste. They can only be Called to beta- or lower castes. Vinda feels this bite every time she looks in her pretty mirror as well. She will re-make the warriors of the Progen from the idiot savages of the Centuriata. Welcome to the Project, Siobhan the Sabura."

He walked away, leaving Siobhan with only her mirror reflection as company. Stepping outside, he left orders to his subordinates for the woman's preparations.

"I have to make a long-distance call by hook or by crook," he said.
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