[Hello, Admiral. The first stage of the Level Four Surgery is complete. You barely survived. How are you feeling?]
Umi, the Bloodbearer's synthmind, speaks telepathically to Admiral Rodriguez as he lays motionless on the cold, metal surgery table. The Admiral's eyes slowly open and close. A thin, grey film covers his iris, making him see the ceiling as little more than a hazy mist.
"...I."
José opens his mouth to speak, but he barely manages a slight gasping noise before his voice gives out.
[Do not attempt to converse verbally, Admiral. You have temporarily suffered catastrophic damage to your vocal cords. You will be unable to speak for several hours. I have activated your Internal Restructuring Nanites to repair the damage, but even with their assistance, the biological repair process will progress slowly.]
Umi speaks with a vaguely soothing tone, but her emotionless voice transmits into José's mind without a drop of warmth. Her words come off as wholly clinical and dispassionate.
Too tired to move, José closes his eyes.
[Pain... body... hurts...]
[Yes, Admiral, I understand. The surgery caused tremendous trauma to your brain. Most ordinary humans would have perished within the first forty-seven seconds of the surgery, but you held on. This is proof that you are worthy of being one of Ramma's Chosen.]
Umi's reassurances do nothing to alleviate the phantom pain coursing through all of José's nerves. The Admiral tightly squeezes his fingers into a fist and clenches his toes, but even while using all of his strength, an infant would still have a stronger grip.
[How... how long...?]
[I completed the surgery after twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and nine seconds. I extracted all of your deprecated biomods and reinstalled three new core modules. The second step of the surgery will require your full cooperation, as I will need to replace the modules I've extracted with updated and improved ones.]
A faint sigh escapes José's lips.
The Admiral shivers as vague memories of unthinkable, torturous pain echo in his short-term memories. The thought of enduring such hellish torture makes him want to curl up in a ball and die.
[No... no more. I can't... do it. Stop.]
José hazily pleads with Umi, his thoughts a shifting mess of fear and anguish. Like a frightened field hare, he retracts into himself, too scared to deal with such hellish agony a second time.
[Admiral. You are the last Terran,] Umi says, a faint hint of annoyance in her tone. [Ramma would be displeased if she were to learn you have become so afraid of pain. However, you do not need to worry. The insertion of new biomods will be relatively painless compared to the extraction process. Your previous biomods fused with your nervous system, making their extraction significantly more painful than their designers intended. This gradual fusion occurred precisely because of your one hundred million years in stasis. Under ordinary circumstances, such a thing would never happen.]
A moment of clarity appears in the Admiral's thoughts. Jose slowly blinks away the film covering his eyes and winces.
[...Okay. Alright. Show me the mods.]
Despite the electricity surging through his veins, José steels himself to listen as Umi begins transmitting a series of data streams into his head.
[Admiral. At present, you have 123 out of 150 Bioelectric Conduits available for biomod installation. In addition, you have 17 out of 23 biomod slots available in your cerebral cortex, as well as the standard two slots per limb and essential body part. Please peruse these biomods carefully to ensure they will meet your needs.]
After Umi finishes speaking, words hover before José's eyes, created by the nanites within his irises.
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After reading the second module's description, José's eyes widen.
[Ugh... th-the... the Third Hand...? Ramma... Ramma's Chosen... cooperated with the Third Hand? That can't be...]
The Admiral's disbelief transmits through his brain-connection to the Bloodbearer's synthmind. Umi replies a moment later with the same empty tonality as always.
[Affirmative, Admiral. On the surface, Ramma's Chosen and the Third Hand warred amongst each other for several eras. However, the executives within both factions sought to increase their influence, so they performed numerous backdoor dealings. I apologize that you had to learn this news in such a roundabout manner.]
José exhales a weak, turbid breath. [Our enemies! The Third Hand... they killed countless civilians... pure evil... how could we...?]
[Rarely are things how they seem on the surface, Admiral. You should know this better than anyone. This vessel, the Bloodbearer, is evidence of that. You knew that we were transporting top-secret modules to Alpha Centauri Starbase IV, so how could you not understand their significance?]
The Terran gently flops his head to the side. He glances at Penelope, the brown-haired holo-officer. She, as well as the other four holograms, stand at attention, motionless, looking at José with blank eyes.
The Admiral gathers more strength into his mind. Every minute he spends talking to Umi is another minute for him to regain some of his consciousness and pull his thoughts away from the phantom pain ravaging his memories.
[Umi. There's a... a difference. Transporting secret biomods... that's not the same as ferrying weapons of terror.]
[I understand, Admiral,] Umi says. [but the distinction does not matter to me. I only follow my programming, and my programming tells me to obey the orders of the highest ranked human officers among Ramma's Chosen. It is not up to my processing matrices to determine the morality of the former executives among humankind. Given the rest of humanity has perished, I see no reason to ruminate on the questionable legalities of these devices. Instead, you must assimilate them to increase your strength and boost your survival chances.]
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After Umi finishes, José continues to stare blankly at the ceiling.
[...Alright. Just get this over with. I'd rather die than lay on... on this table any longer.]
Umi replies with a single beep. [Affirmative.]
More information streams into José's mind.
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José bitterly gazes at the last sentence with hateful eyes, but says nothing.
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The Admiral groans. [Orion Corps? Did my commanding officers... did they ever tell the truth? Did Admiral Baruchen know... about this?]
[Affirmative,] Umi replies. [Admiral Baruchen was well aware of Ramma's dealings with other faction leaders. He reasoned that, in times of war, one must sometimes grasp an enemy's hand to climb out of a pit.]
[What pit?] José asks, his thoughts in turmoil. [What damned pit, Umi? What did I fight for, if not to eliminate the evils of the universe? Collaborating with those filthy... those filthy Third Handers... weren't we just as bad as those we decried?]
[Admiral,] Umi says, a note of annoyance in her usually robotic voice, [there is no point in dwelling on ancient history. All of those old rivalries are dead. Once you establish a foothold in the galaxy, cloning humans and bringing your species back from extinction will be possible. If you do not wish to repeat the mistakes of your predecessors, you will have the ability to create a whole new society with different rules. I will assist you in whatever way I can.]
José closes his eyes.
[Rebuild humanity? Pah. Why would I do that? We went extinct for a reason. Maybe we deserved to die.]
[Admiral. You are acting strange, again.]
[I don't care.]
The last Terran knots his brows together. After taking a deep breath, he manages to push down some of the pain ravaging his stomach and spine.
[Are any of these damned biomods capable of suppressing pain?]
Umi beeps in reply. [Yes, Admiral. There are several you may find acceptable. One of them seems to fit your mental parameters best. Please examine it carefully.]
The synthmind transmits another dataset to José's brain.
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[Alright,] José grunts. [That will do. Start with that one so I can finally end my misery.]
[Affirmative, Admiral. I will install the Class 5 Pain Suppressor at once. After the installation, you will have 12 Cerebral slots and 113 of 150 Bioelectric Conduits remaining.]
[Do it, already.]
[Orders received. Beginning installation, now.]
.......................................
An hour later, Admiral José Rodriguez slides his legs over the side of the metal table. His body shivers involuntarily, and he nearly falls off the table as a wave of disorientation hits him.
Penelope and Mikami, two of the holo-officers, appear at José's sides. They gently grab the Admiral's arms and hold him upright, preventing him from falling over.
"Bloodyhell, almosht felloffthetable," José drawls, his speech slurring badly. Thanks to a newly acquired biomod, his vocal cords repair themselves at an accelerated speed, allowing him to talk. "Thoughtyousaid there'd be no... no proprio...ception...loss..."
Dizziness assaults the Admiral's brain. He slumps toward Penelope, his head lolling against her shoulder.
"The Class 5 Pain Suppressor is not what is causing your dizziness, Admiral. Your brain is still exhausted from the surgery. You will require at least two weeks of bed rest to fully recover."
José shakily rubs his eyes with a trembling hand. "Two... two weeksh? No, thatwon'tdo. I'll sleepforabit and just... just... manage."
"You are extremely stubborn, Admiral," Umi chides. "A Level Four Surgery is violently traumatic to the host's body, especially considering I was unable to apply local anesthetic. Admiral, I must protest. If you attempt to perform your regular duties while in this state, you will only injure your body further."
While Umi speaks, the blond hologram, Irene, walks over to José while pushing a shiny metal wheelchair, one with hardly any padding. The holographic crew-members help ease José into the chair. Once he sags into its confines, the faint trembles occurring throughout his body slow to a stop.
"Ugh. Thanks."
The Admiral swallows several slow breaths. Eventually, he groans long and hard.
"...Alright. I feel a bit better, now. Umi, please remember that we don't have any time to spare. Once the Kraktol vessels return home, the Kessu homeworld may suffer a second attack. I have to fix the Bloodbearer's engines so we can enter Folded Space. Once that happens, we'll have all the time we need for rest."
Umi doesn't relent. "Admiral, you are in no condition to repair this vessel. Even a team of ten highly trained engineers at peak condition might not manage such a feat in the time table you require."
"Maybe you're right," José says with a shrug. "But I have to try. Even if it seems hopeless, I can't give up. That's what it means to be human."
The Bloodbearer's synthmind doesn't point out the contradiction in José's words. Earlier, you begged me to kill you.
Instead, Umi moves on. "Very well. I will obey your orders, as always. If you absolutely insist on repairing this vessel, I still recommend at least twelve hours of bedrest. You will not be able to function properly without giving your tissue time to regenerate."
José sighs. "Twelve hours. Alright, that will have to do. Honestly, I'm dying for a nap."
"Thank you for complying, Admiral," Umi responds. "I do not wish to see you suffer further harm. Penelope will activate your Mobility Chair to direct it toward the Admiral's Quarters."
Penelope reaches toward the control dial to key in a set of directions. However, José stops her. "Wait. I don't want to sleep there. Direct me to my room. My old quarters. It's closer to Medbay 003, anyway."
"Admiral, if you are referring to room 1623, I can confirm the door will open, but the inner chamber is still covered in dust. Nobody has cleaned that section of the ship, yet."
"Don't care," José grunts. "I won't sleep in Admiral Baruchen's bed, at least not tonight. I want my own."
Umi sighs. "Stubborn, as always."
José chuckles. "Hah. Yes, I am."
As the Admiral's wheelchair begins rolling toward the doorway, the holo-crew following behind him stop at the edge of the Medbay, their bodies unable to travel where there aren't any holo-transmitters.
"Please be careful, Admiral," Penelope says, clutching her hands against her chest. "If you fall, we won't be able to pick you up. We'll have to send Officers Megla and Soren to do that."
The Terran turns his head as his chair rolls away. He glances at Penelope out of the corner of his eye.
"I'll keep that in mind."
The Medbay door hisses shut, and the holo-crew transmit back to the bridge. After they leave, José sighs to himself.
"Penelope worries for my safety, huh? She really does remind me of that woman."
"Admiral?" Umi beeps, overhead.
"Nothing, Umi. Nothing. Just some... some old memories."
The synthmind beeps again. "I see. I won't press for information without your consent, Admiral."
José continues rolling toward his quarters. "How thoughtful of you."
"I do my best," Umi says, self-congratulating herself in an odd manner. "Incidentally, Admiral. I wanted to applaud your choices for biomods. You maximized the amount of bioelectricity and body slots without wasting any attachment space. Very impressive."
The Admiral nods slowly, as his eyes begin to droop. "Yes. Thank, uh... thank you, Umi. No more talking, please. I need to hold out until I reach my room."
"As you wish, Admiral."