None of it was happening as she would have chosen. Ayan couldn't stop thinking about her unique position as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. It was a space reserved for Petitioners to make themselves ready before addressing Freeground's highest court. The dim lighting and dark wood textured walls were made to maintain calm, to quiet the nervousness that rose in most petitioners and it wasn't working. All the events of the last two weeks and the many realizations she'd made since waking filled Ayan's mind, overshadowed by her irrational fear of what the Council would have to tell her.
She was seen as an oddity, a scientific first that was an unwelcome shock to the scientific and medical community. Science fiction had speculated on someone just like her coming along but it was seen as an indirect route to an unnecessary goal. Thoughts of a genetically pure human had been abandoned long ago, when the genome had been mapped and advanced materializers became capable of producing living tissue from a purely digital pattern. No credible scientist or medical professional known in the community thought there was a need for a living, breathing template for a genetically pure human. That was until Doctor Anderson refused to let her go and it was partially that unwillingness that drove him to bring her back to life in a way that he was sure she would have chosen herself.
He was right. If she were given the choice to come back with genetic enhancements or with none at all she would choose the latter. Her life had been plagued by complications and considerations that were the direct results of genetic meddling. The struggle to just feel normal was a constant and as she aged her genetic flaws became more and more apparent until it was evident that she wouldn't live much longer. That was my old life. She reminded herself.
All my pain is gone, I have a long life ahead of me and I can even have children if I like, something that was just impossible before. There are so many possibilities now, I only hope the Council doesn't cut them away. If I could just tell them to put their judgement on hold until I've done everything I'd like then come back when I'm ready… she shook her head at the ridiculousness of the notion. “Pardon me, I know you've been talking about this for two weeks, but could you just stop for a few decades while I go take a tour of the galaxy, maybe find out if I fancy Jake as much as I did Jonas, have a couple children then settle in on a long range exploration vessel before you pass final judgement?” She asked her reflection. Now that's the speech I should be giving today, pity they wouldn't consider it. Funny thing is, aside from the dimpled face in the mirror, blonde hair and a few new curves I feel just like my old self. Healthier, sure, but really if I could convince them there was so little difference. “How do you express that?” she asked herself aloud as she stared into the blue eyes reflected in the mirror.
Less and less she reminded herself that she was the second incarnation of Ayan Rice as her body felt more and more her own. The memories she inherited were filled with medical treatments, collapses and problems she'd never have to worry about again and that was a realization that was still sinking in and she couldn't help but feel new. When Doctor Anderson gave her the digital files containing the time lapsed footage of her in the artificial womb things started to come into focus. The playback was set to some of the ancient Earth music he had played over the thirty years he stood vigil as she developed from just a few cells to a foetus and into a full grown woman.
She couldn't help but watch it on a daily basis for the first week. Doctor Anderson and his colleagues thought it would help with her own mental image, and it did. They were certain that watching that footage would give her the sense that she had been given a second chance, and again, they were right. What they didn't predict were the questions. There were the normal ones; “How did you do it?” The detailed answers to that one were in the medical file, and with the help of a scientific encyclopaedia she was able to figure it out.
The questions that surprised them the most were the ones that came as she paused periods in her late development; “What memory was I reliving when I looked like I was pushing something away?” she asked as she replayed a segment of her growth where she was warding something away with her hands and feet. It turned out to be the memory of an unwelcome pass while she was in a night club on leave.
“What's happening here? I'm curled up, not moving at all.” she asked as she pointed out to a long clip that stretched on for several hours. The answer surprised her, an unwelcome reminder of the friend she had lost after graduating from the Academy. Sylvia, who she had grown up with and had graduated before to join Fleet as an ensign had been accidentally killed while on long range patrol. The memory came back to her then. She laid in her bunk and cried herself to sleep the night after hearing the news. The following duty shift came too soon and she almost didn't show up. That watch was the hardest, and for weeks she was on autopilot, working, studying, sleeping. Eventually she snapped out of it and thinking back she realized it was her work that got her through the grieving period for the friend she still missed.
There were other expressions, positions that she had questions about, but the most important and the last query was brought on by a self satisfied grin unlike any she'd seen. As it turned out that expression was caused by the experience of the Pilot's Ball. Ayan liked the spotlight from time to time, it was true. The Pilot's Ball was an experience she'd never forget, feeling like the center of attention, having the eye of the one person in the crowd you wanted to be near; few people had more than one night like that in their lifetimes.
Jonas had been tongue tied, dazzled. She couldn't help but wonder if she should change her hair colour back to the shade of red it was that night or if she could fit into that white gown. Those thoughts were secondary to the memory of their first kiss, the first time he trusted her with stories of his childhood, of his parents. She missed him and at the same time wondered if Jacob Valance was struggling with the same questions, the same problems she had.
The thought seemed ridiculous somehow. Jonas, or Jake as he was called the second time around, would have no such problems. Heaven knows he wasn't always sure of himself, but if there's any of Jonas in Jacob he's probably gifted with that deep well of strength and resolve. I've never seen someone so kind summon such will and clarity of purpose when it's needed. He's probably past any problems he's had with Jonas' memories if Jake's anything like him. If nothing else I'd just like to hear what kind of advice he could offer. God I hope he's in there, I hope he remembers everything important about what it is to be Jonas. Everything with him feels so unfinished and I miss him. In times like these, when I could use someone just like him, I miss him so much. The recordings of him chasing down bounties, making a grand speech for the Aucharians and other, less flashy security footage came to mind. There's got to be something. He was a bit of a bad boy in sims before we met, always looking for some challenge to overcome, and the more it seemed like someone else couldn't do it, the more he wanted to do it. That white scarf I gave him, in most of the playbacks he still wears it, there's got to be something of Jonas in him, even if it's buried. Still, marks how little I've changed; still heels up for the bad boy in the bunch.
She sighed and fixed herself with a small smile. The dimples in her cheeks were something she was still getting used to along with other little changes in her expressions. Silly girl, pining over someone whose as much fantasy as anything when your future's about to be announced by the highest law in the sector.
Her thoughts returned to the seven judges on the Freeground Nation Judiciary Council, entrusted with protecting and determining foundation laws for all citizens. From what she understood her very existence was a question that was difficult to answer in legal terms. She wasn't a clone, but a new being that had matured from genetically purified stock in a wormhole that allowed time to pass faster inside its influence than outside.
Doctor Anderson and Doctor Milan both visited her every day since she woke to ensure she was well physically as well as mentally. Doctor Anderson was a researcher and medical doctor, the other, Doctor Milan, was a seasoned psychiatrist who had been on board for the thirty year circular trip. They also kept her up to date on how the presentation of her case to the Judiciary Council was going. The fact that she wasn't allowed to attend was beyond frustrating. Even though she already knew the answer, she couldn't help but ask why she wasn't allowed to watch the proceedings; “The Council is judging this based on scientific fact and they believe that it may be difficult to remain objective with you present,” came the predictable answer.
“I'm not just some experiment, I became a person. An actual woman who deserves to know what they're saying, what they're thinking while they make decisions that could determine my future!” she responded exasperatedly. She knew it was no use, that complaining to Doctor Milan wouldn't do any good. Her therapist was just the messenger, a testifying witness at best.
That was several days before. Her complaint had more of an impact than she had expected. The entire research team who assisted with her rebirth made an appeal to the Judiciary Council on her behalf. As a result the Council would give her the opportunity to speak before they made their final ruling.
As she checked her white vacsuit, made more in the fashion of a civilian garment with a low cut neckline, and put on a long, gossamer blue shawl that had been given to her by Doctor Shannon Milan, she reminded herself to thank the whole team once again. The outfit had more class than what she normally wore, shimmered white and blue and still had all the practical elements of what she had grown used to on the First Light. She adjusted her shawl so it hung properly, starting just below her white choker flowing down to her knees and shook her head.
It still feels so strange sometimes just accepting the memories they gave me as my own but it feels right. Shannon was right, I'm glad we had that morning session. I feel much better going into this without feeling so guilty, feeling like I'm trespassing every time I think about what I lived in another body. That's all it is, really. Those memories are just from another body, it was still me.
Ayan checked herself in the mirror for the last time and sighed at the face there. “A bit of extra weight showing around the cheeks but at least I don't have to take meds every morning or get a checkup every week after this,” she had to admit that she missed her red hair sometimes, something she might fix later, but against the shimmering white and blue outfit she wore the loose blond curls looked fetching, much better than she expected.
As she stepped towards the door it slid quietly to the side where Doctor Anderson was answering a question for Minh and Doctor Milan smiled at her. “You look lovely. Very much yourself.”
“I don't know exactly what that means, but thank you,” Ayan teased with a smirk.
“Whose the looker?” Minh complimented with a playful wink. He was in his old First Light starfighter pilot uniform. A black vacsuit with a heavy flight jacket over top that came complete with a white scarf. She was reminded again of the one she had given Jonas and through that her mind wandered momentarily to Minh's invitation. If she could jump into his ship right then and there instead of face the Judiciary Council she would have.
“Are you ready? It's just about time,” Doctor Anderson asked quietly.
“How is it out there?” she asked in return.
“Full, but don't worry. I expect the ruling to be at least partially favourable. Just use this opportunity to say what's on your mind.”
“Right. Let's get this over with,” Ayan said, exhaling slowly and steeling herself.
The doors to the side chamber opened and she walked out. It wasn't a courtroom, it was the Parliament floor, the size of an arena. The four of them walked quietly from the side to the back of the main walkway with Ayan in front, the Doctors behind and Minh-Chu at the rear. She was happy he was allowed to come along, his levity made her smile, which was just as important as anything Doctor Anderson or Milan could do for her then.
When she was half way down the long sloping walkway her entourage stopped and took a front seat in the observer's area. The rest of the seats, over twenty rows in an oval surrounding the moderator's seat as far as she could estimate, were filled with Ministers, Senators, and Military representatives. Her gaze flitted across the ones just in front and to the left and right, there were hundreds, not a single seat was empty.
At the bottom of the sloping walkway was a clear oval space with a circle of desks for House Clerks, the Moderator's High Seat was behind that, and above it was the Council Bench. It was actually a long, dark wooden desk that loomed over everyone in the room, especially the Petitioner's Dais standing opposite. The dais was set at the bottom of the sloped walkway and when she stopped to stand there the massive chamber ground down from a lively chatter to dead silence.
Ayan had never felt so small. She knew what she wanted to say when it was her time to make a statement, understood what was about to happen, what was required of her, and that she did have some influence. While the floor was hers she'd have the very rare opportunity to address all the representatives publicly, without having her statement screened beforehand. None of that eased the lump in her throat, settled the butterflies in her stomach or stopped her palms from sweating. In an attempt to feign calm she folded her hands over the front of her loose shawl and held her head up high.
“All rise for the Members of the Judiciary Council,” the Mediator's Aide called out. The sound of thousands of representatives and gallery attendees standing was like rolling thunder, echoing across the large open space. She hadn't noticed the upper gallery above the observer's seating before and regretted looking across the standing multitude. There were thousands sitting there, more still below them in the observer's seating, and she avoided the appraising gazes of the various representatives. It felt like each one weighed her against some kind of preconception or value she wasn't privy to.
The seven judges came out of a back room and each quietly took their seats behind the high bench. The judge in the center was always the last to vote on any matter and the first to speak unless she predetermined another member should be the primary on the matter. The role of the Judiciary Council was to decide on unprecedented matters that would result in the creation of laws or drastic change in government or military policy. Parliament could debate, refine or contest the laws that resulted from their judgements, but it wasn't commonplace, since the Judges were chosen from each of the leading parties.
The woman in the center, Judge Moore, was silver haired and round faced. She was not the eldest, however. That honour was reserved for Judge Barnes, a tall, lean fellow with no hair at all. He had served longer than any three judges on that panel combined. All of them looked bone weary.
When they were all seated Judge Moore addressed the court. “It seems only days ago we were called to assembly to consider this strange case. It has actually been two weeks. This Council hasn't consulted with so many doctors and scientists in decades. Before we issue our ruling, it is within the scope of due diligence that we disclose the process we undertook to come to our conclusion in general terms. Before we enter that information into the record we would like to offer the first being to be affected by our rulings today to speak on her own behalf.”
Ayan nodded and cleared her throat quietly before answering. “I would like to take that opportunity, your Honour.” Her voice seemed wrong as it echoed back at her, her light Britannic accent was awkward in her ears.
“Please proceed.”
She took a moment to sort her thoughts and concentrated on looking at Judge Moore, who sat up high, looking on with interest. “Everything I remember is from another life,” she tried not to flinch at her solitary voice cutting the silence. “I can recall experiences of every kind, everything you could expect from a lifetime that was lived in health and eventual terminal sickness.
Two weeks ago I woke up healthy and I was told that a body scan taken of me before I was too ill for it to be viable was used to imprint my experiences onto a new form. A process that took over thirty years and involved sacrifices that I don't know if I could make myself. I cannot fully express my gratitude to the people who gave me a second chance at life. All I can do is honour them in how I use this opportunity. I request nothing more than the freedom and means to be of service to them and the rest of the Freeground Nation. I submit to this Council that I can best accomplish that by continuing my previous existence, to legally become Ayan Rice with the rank and history attached to that name. Thank you,” she finished.
“Thank you, petitioner. Please remain where you are to hear our statement of due process and our ruling. As our review of this matter is complete, I'll read a summary of our process and findings into the official record. Our first task was to verify that Ayan was raised in the manner Doctor Anderson and the crew of vessel 42-2100-14C claimed. That is; created using natural materials, altered so a natural evolutionary course replaced centuries of genetic manipulation and then implanted in an artificial womb for thirty years. The passing of which was undergone in vessel 42-2100-14C inside a time compression wormhole. The actual passage of time outside of that space was four years, one month and eleven days. This Judiciary Council finds no falsehoods in these claims.
After reviewing physical evaluation, psychological evaluation and therapeutic logs we also find Ayan is sound in mind and body. Unfortunately, we also found that her genetic profile is so different from any known to our records that we cannot find ancestral ties. It is the personal opinion of this Judge that we should consider that finding as more of a statement on how much each of us have been genetically altered rather than consider it any kind of failing on the part of the petitioner or those responsible for her existence.
With those findings finalized, this Council was satisfied that our review of the evidence was complete and unanimously decided that our findings should be read into the public record. It was also decided that the Sentient Clone Freedoms Act does not apply to the primary petitioner. She is not a clone, but a natural being created through the legal use of modern technology. After much deliberation the fact that she possesses the memories of another being does not make her a copy. There are more than enough unique characteristics for the young woman we see before us today to be considered as a separate entity. Her future development and growth will differ from the original possessor of those memories thanks to good health and other significant physical changes. If both Ayan Rice and the Petitioner were to live their lives side by side we are absolutely certain they would do so very differently but with equal sentience.
Having verified her sentience we conclude by majority that the Petitioner, Ayan, is immediately to be considered a Citizen of the Freeground Nation. Ayan will not, however be treated as a replacement or given the same military rank as Ayan Rice, the woman from which her memories originated. The petitioner is not to be permitted to enlist in the military, she will not be permitted to work in a civilian position that requires access to sensitive materials and will have no special authority or special access to the materials or data belonging to Ayan Rice. The possessions of the deceased will be managed by a predetermined executor, her mother; Admiral Jessica Rice. Petitioner Ayan is also not required to submit to further testing, treatment or procedures for any reason.”
Judge Moore's expression softened and she smiled at Ayan. “Congratulations young lady, you and anyone like you are free by law. This session is adjourned.”
“All rise for the departure of the Judiciary Council,” called out one of the Clerks.
Ayan just watched as the seven black robed judges stood, turned, and filed out of the chamber through a small door. She had at the same time been given rights, freedom and had the opportunity to continue her life as she knew it stripped away.
The few congratulations and quiet praises offered by the closer members of the house were hollow comfort to Ayan. The Clone Rights Organization President said something she hadn't considered; “you've set an important precedent for anyone with memory imprints in the Freeground Nation and anyone who has a deep scan made of themselves. Not to mention the rights and expectations you've established for people who are cultivated the way you've been,” he praised quietly, shaking her hand briefly before moving on.
Memory scans and recoveries weren't foreign, but what made her different was the utter completeness of the imprint. It took a lifetime, thirty years, but she couldn't find any gaps. She was physiologically different, but other than having trouble concentrating for the first few days and slightly lower test scores, all of which could be explained by the absence of genetic enhancements, her memories, her basic cognitive abilities were perfectly fine.
Minh-Chu, Doctor Anderson and Milan met her at a side door and they were quiet as they navigated through the thick crowds in the halls outside. There were several more congratulations offered, a few dark looks from people who didn't support starting life in an artificial environment, but they were able to get to their shuttle quick enough.
“I hear you have a ship of your own Minh, why didn't we use it instead of renting a shuttle?” Asked Doctor Milan.
Minh cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. “It needs a little more work. Besides, it was a troop carrier before, um, whatever it was used for after.”
“What's it called?”
“It was called the Gull, but I'm renaming it the Warpig, ” he smiled as he sat down at the basic shuttle controls. It was an eight seat passenger carrier, streamlined with the pilot and copilot seats set just ahead of two rows of four comfortable reclining seats.
Ayan couldn't help but burst out laughing at the new name before she calmed herself down. Everyone in the small craft knew her mirth came more as a stress reliever than anything else.
Minh fixed her with an injured look over his shoulder before turning around and preparing to detach from Freeground station.
“I'm sorry, I knew you were renaming it, but…” she shrugged and looked to Doctor Anderson, who smiled at her, waiting for her to continue. “I just don't see that ship as a Warpig.”
“Oh, you will,” he reassured as he took the controls and watched for the green light from Freeground Control.
The four of them quieted as Minh gently detached from the station and followed the preplanned trajectory to the wormhole Freeground Station was generating for them. They were among several ships leaving at the same time, but since Ayan was the focus of the assembly for the first session of the afternoon she had high priority.
Once they were inside the wormhole that would take them back to the colony, Doctor Milan turned to Ayan and put a comforting hand on the younger woman's arm. The therapist's blue vacsuit gloves were retracted, something she always did when she was speaking to a patient. “I'm sorry they didn't grant you ownership of everything form your old life.”
Ayan half smiled back at her and nodded. “I would have liked to see the logs from the last few years. It feels like I'm missing time. I'm just surprised my mother couldn't attend. She would have had some choice words for the Council when they announced I wouldn't be able to rejoin Freeground Fleet.”
“She's on the Paladin, running advanced missions in the blue belt,” Doctor Anderson said quietly. “Or so I've heard.”
“Was re-entry into the military something you really wanted?.” asked Doctor Milan.
Ayan thought about it for a moment. To her, just two weeks ago, she was busy working on the first two major developments in the new Special Projects Division she and Laura had restarted. It was still difficult to fully grasp that over five years had passed since then, great things had already been accomplished. That was the military she most recently knew, before that she was busy improving and maintaining starships. The sims came to mind, boarding operations, infantry, fighter and epic ship to ship battles all with Oz, Jason, Minh, Laura, and Jonas. Whether it was boots on the ground, rushing into an airlock or holding the engineering deck together while ships tried to blast each other into oblivion, it was always amazing with them. Those were simulations, she was well aware, and when it became a reality on the First Light it was so different and so much better.
“Ayan?” asked Doctor Milan gently.
“I miss the First Light. I missed it even when I was running Special Projects with Laura.”
Doctor Anderson and Doctor Milan shared a knowing look for a moment. The pair were subtle, but it was impossible for her to miss as she sat right between them.
Ayan sighed and tried not to sound as irritated as she was. If there was one thing she wouldn't permit, it was having things hidden from her. They'd have to realize she wasn't some delicate flower, especially after leaving her illness behind. “What is it?”
The low rumble of the engines accelerating the ship through the wormhole was the only sound in the cabin as the occupants to either side of her hesitated and Minh turned around.
Doctor Anderson cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “Ayan, there's a position open on my staff if you'd like to work with me. I'm going to be busy for the next few years explaining how you were born. You have a firm understanding of the non-medical technologies involved, the ship, the wormhole and the rest of the systems. Would you be interested?”
Ayan was at a loss for words and just started trying to get a response together when Minh gave Doctor Anderson a confused look and turned around in the pilot's seat. There was nothing really for him to do there while the shuttle followed a strictly predetermined path through the wormhole, but his point was made. That wasn't what he or Ayan expected to hear from Doctor Anderson. Even if she did have the qualifications for the job she was being offered, and she did, Ayan would be the focus of attention for what she was, not what she knew.
The thought of being put on display for several years while Doctor Anderson and the rest of his team walked the rest of the scientific community through what they had accomplished was about as palatable as being a waste disposal technician. At the same time she didn't want to offend him or Doctor Milan. “I don't know,” was all she could say.
“Ayan, if you could pick anything, go anywhere, what would you do? Absolutely anything,” Probed Doctor Milan encouragingly.
She thought about it for a moment then delivered her response, looking her therapist right in the eye. “I'd join Laura on the Triton.”
“Yesss!” Minh exclaimed quietly.
“I don't know about going in the Gull though,” she smiled.
“It's called the Warpig now.”
“And you're going through with your trip Minh?” Doctor Milan asked.
“Unless there's a military blockade in my way I'll be gone as soon as the ship's ready.”
“You know Freeground can't officially know your intended destination, right?”
“Right. All anyone knows other than my sisters, Oz's sisters and some of their kids is that I'm headed somewhere into the core.”
“You always were the secretive type,” Ayan teased. She looked to Doctor Anderson apologetically; “I'm sorry, I just don't see myself answering questions about time compression or high powered emitter systems for the next few years.”
He smiled faintly. “That's all right, I understand. Honestly, I'm just sorry to see you go so soon.”
“I'm not sure if I'm going anywhere just yet,” Ayan reassured him.
There was that weak smile again. “I have strong ties with Freeground Intelligence, as you know. There's news.”
Ayan could tell from his demeanour that whatever the new development was, it wasn't good. “What's going on?”
“I'm clear to tell you this, believe it or not, but it can't go past this shuttle,” Doctor Anderson put a hand on Minh's chair and caught the younger man's eye. “I mean it, this can't get out.”
Minh nodded at him, matching his serious expression.
“All right then. Fleet has lost communications with everything we have in the Blue Belt. The Sunspire, the Paladin, the entire third battle group. It was some kind of virus according to the few ships that got away.”
“Got away? What do you mean, got away?” Ayan asked.
“The ships turned on the crews. Anything connected to an artificial intelligence including life support, automated weaponry, navigation, everything. The survivors are scattered, so there's no way to estimate casualties but we have special recovery teams on their way out there.”
“Did my mother make it out?”
“We don't know for sure but there's a good chance. The crew of the Paladin caught it early and the order to abandon ship was given quickly. Normally she'd hang on to an asset that size more tenaciously, but according to the report the Paladin's internal security systems are all connected to the three primary artificial intelligences aboard, staying wouldn't be a good command decision.”
“So people have already made it back from the Paladin? ”
“Yes, and there should be more coming.”
“I'll leave a message for my mother to contact me if she arrives in port,” Ayan said quietly, their relationship was cold at best, but she still needed to know her mother was all right.
“There's more I'm afraid,” Doctor Anderson said quietly.
Ayan just stared at him, expecting the absolute worst.
“Jason and Terry didn't make it to the Triton. They've had trouble with the AI on the Silkstream but they're all right. There's a planet named Pandem two thirds of the way there and they're hoping the Triton can meet them.”
“Is the Triton all right?”
“As far as we know, but everything else at that end of the galaxy without a Regent Galactic logo on it is being affected by this virus. Fleet Intelligence wants someone they can disavow to go join Jason and Terry. They have to have a military record, unofficial or not, so they can continue on after a rescue attempt to be Freeground's secret liaison to the Triton. They approached me to enlist you since you and Minh have strong ties. They're also aware of the experience you have as an officer and regardless of what the Council's final ruling is they respect it and want you to be our diplomat aboard.”
“And they want me.”
“And Minh.”
Ayan lowered her head and just thought about it for a moment.
“You've only had two weeks to adjust, I'm sure they don't expect you to accept the assignment, especially not now,” said Doctor Milan reassuringly.
“Um, I'm not going alone,” Minh objected as he turned in his seat to face the three in the cabin behind more directly.
Ayan's thoughts wandered to the recordings of Jacob Valance, not the same man as Jonas, she knew, but she was certain there was something of Jonas left. More importantly, Laura was alone on the Triton, Jason and Oz could be in trouble and even though she would miss Doctor Anderson and everyone else she knew on Freeground, the Judiciary Council had just taken most of her opportunities away. The thought occurred to her then; Laura probably just watched me die. There's no way she knows I'm here, that I'm alive.
She steeled herself and said what any experienced officer should; “It's a bad command decision to send someone who is so emotionally involved on this kind of mission. What kind of favours did you have to promise to give us this assignment?”
Doctor Anderson regarded her at first with surprise then with a small, amused smile. “They approached me, I didn't even have to mention Minh, they knew he was already going. I think half of Freeground knows by now. In fact, when they requested that I approach you on their behalf I told them I wouldn't do it unless they provided me with a report on your mother's status. I was the one who squeezed them for a little more.”
“So why break well established intelligence methods? Why send someone whose emotionally attached?”
“They weighed that against the professionalism you've demonstrated over the years. You have a long history of service, shown that you can improvise, think on your feet. They also know that without some kind of history backing whoever they send to represent Freeground on the Triton, they'll be treated like a burden. At least if they send you they know they'll have a fighting chance, at least an observer and at best a voice.”
Ayan thought about it for a moment, knowing that Minh's eyes were staring expectantly. “I won't be their puppet. Even without their offer, which comes with no official rank or acknowledgement I'm sure, I'd want to join Laura on the Triton. I won't have any of their tracking devices, submit to any poking or prodding they might care to do before we leave and I'll only accept if we can do this our way.” Ayan said to Doctor Anderson quietly.
“I'll tell them those are your terms, from what I understand they'll accept.”
Minh grinned excitedly and turned back to the controls.
Ayan sighed and nodded to herself. “It's where I want to be. I want to get out there and I miss that whole bunch; Laura, Jason, Oz, and I have to see Jacob. At the least all of them deserve to know I'm alive and well. I've only been walking around for two weeks but I don't feel like I have any memory gaps. To me I was just promoted to Captain, the Special Projects Division is just beginning. Suddenly it's over, and everything's different. Everything surrounding Freeground feels complicated, sort of off.”
“You'll have to keep up your physical training on the way and when you arrive,” Doctor Milan told her. “Even though we did our best to sync the scan results with your body you still have a slightly different mental body image of yourself. Your brain isn't completely in sync with your muscle memory.”
Ayan lifted a lock of her curly blond hair and nodded. “That's pretty evident. I still expect this to be red until I see it in the mirror, but I've had infantry training before, I'll work through the physical challenges.”
“So, I hate to mention this, but you know it would take the Warpig a long time to get even a third of the way to the Triton, ” Minh interjected quietly.
“Intelligence will have the main wormhole generator on Freeground station create a high compression route, you'll be in orbit around Pandem in two or three days.”
Minh's eyes went wide, Ayan couldn't help but be surprised as well. “They can do that?” he asked.
“With a wormhole generator just short of two kilometres across, I'd hope so. It's just not something they flaunt considering how much energy it takes. They'll just say Ayan used an old Special Projects code.”
“Why all the secrecy?”
“Regent Galactic is threatening war if we send any help in Jacob Valance's direction. Freeground Intelligence is planning for the worst, however. With a third of our fleet down now, they want someone to go attempt to make amends with Captain Valance.”
Minh looked at Ayan and smiled. “I think they have the right idea. When do I get a repair crew for the Warpig? ”
“You won't be getting one, I'm sorry. It has to look like Ayan and you spend every credit you have to repair her and set off. Intelligence can give you some extra parts from the colony inventory, some personal equipment, but that's all.”
“How bad is the Warpig?” Ayan asked.
“With both of us working on it we should be ready in a couple days. It won't be pretty though.”
“A couple days? Are you sure?”
“Well, maybe a week.”
She looked to Doctor Anderson and batted her eyelashes. “Could I borrow a few credits?”
“I'm sure we can get a few people from the team who kept our ship running in the compression wormhole to give you a hand,” he replied with a chuckle.