Emmon's jet black hair was drenched in sweat as he fought to gain control of his small, streamlined scout ship. Its engines sputtered and screeched as he pushed it to its top speed, aiming to jump to null space before it was too late.

His mission was of the utmost importance, and he couldn't afford to die without reporting his findings. The treacherous Vandarian General had betrayed them and was leading the Sharlakar straight to Emmon's people. This would inevitably lead to an all-out war with Vandar. Emmon gritted his teeth when he thought of his people having to go to war.

But he couldn't dwell on that now. His focus was on reaching safety and delivering his report. Only then could they start preparing for the inevitable battle to come. With a heavy heart and determined mind, Emmon pushed the ship to its limits, the roar of the engines drowning out all other sounds in the ship. He was a soldier, a protector of his people, and he would do everything in his power to ensure their survival.

Emmon's breath caught in his throat as he felt a laser blast implode a section of his ship. His ship started to careen out of control. Emmon desperately tried to regain control of the scout ship. The massive Vandarian battle destroyer continued to fire upon him, its weapons far more advanced and powerful than anything on Emmon's small vessel. He knew that one direct hit could mean the end for him.

With sweat pouring down his face, Emmon attempted to evade the blasts by spiraling down, but he was no match the huge war ship. His brother Jareth, a highly trained pilot and warrior, would have been able to outmaneuver them effortlessly. But Emmon lacked his brother's natural talent and years of training.

As another energy blast clipped the side of his ship, causing it to rock violently again, Emmon gritted his teeth in determination. He couldn't let himself be taken out so easily. He had a mission to complete and a duty to protect his people.

But as he struggled to regain control, another blast hit too close for comfort. The ship at last got caught in the planet below gravitational pull, causing it to spiral towards the planet below at an alarming speed.

In a desperate move, Emmon managed to slow down the ship and straighten it out before it crashed onto the planet's surface with a deafening thud.

Emmon's head was ringing as he slowly regained consciousness. His body was battered and bruised from the impact. He moaned in pain, his vision blurred as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

As his eyes cleared, panic set in. He was still on the planet's surface, but now surrounded by ten gray, drooling, bloodshot eyed Sharlakar. These savage creatures were known for their brutal attacks and insatiable appetite for human flesh.

Emmon desperately tried to untangle himself from the safety net that had saved him from the crash. But his body refused to cooperate – every movement sending jolts of pain through his broken arm and other injured areas. With a sinking feeling, Emmon knew he was defenseless against the Sharlakar's attack.

The creatures closed in on him, their sharp claws and teeth glinting in the sunlight. Pain shot through every nerve as he struggled to escape.

But it was no use. The Sharlakar pounced on him, tearing at his flesh with their razor-sharp claws and teeth. Emmon let out a blood-curdling scream as the pain consumed him.

As Emmon lay there, struggling to stay conscious, a sudden burst of noise and movement caught his attention.

To his horror, a redheaded freckled skinny girl burst into the ship. But her appearance was not what shocked him – it was the fact that her skin peeled back, revealing a vast arsenal of weapons that were her arms and legs.

The cyborg dropped and rolled with inhuman speed and precision, avoiding the Sharlakar's attacks effortlessly. She then went into a spin and quickly shot every creature dead in a matter of seconds.

Emmon could only watch in awe as she moved with fluidity and grace, taking down his attackers without breaking a sweat.

But as she finished off the last Sharlakar, she turned towards him. Emmon's did not hope to be rescued. She was one of the traitor General cyborgs,

As the cyborg approached him Emmon thought to himself “so this is how I die.” But much to his surprise, instead of attacking him, she knelt down beside him.

“I'm here to help,” she said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “You're badly injured.”

Emmon's mind reeled – why would a traitor cyborg help him?

He jerked in surprise he felt his starguard warm glow in response to another star guard. He knew the feel of the rhythm that it pulsated. He whispered in response “Jareth”… he gaped at the other half of his brother’s star guard that dangled from a pale freckled Vandarian female’s neck. “Not Jareth” he heard the girl's voice say. “Jareth’s friend.”

Confused Emmon whispered his last thought aloud as he drifted off into unconsciousness. “Then again maybe I won’t die.”

————————————————

Aleck inspected Rillian's injuries, assessing if they could be healed without resorting to cyborg enhancements. However, she knew that General Wallock had a cruel streak and would force Rillian to become a Borg, as Aleck had seen him do before with other soldiers. But without proper medical attention, Rillian would surely die from his wounds.

Aleck checked the time remaining until her Borg codes would force her to comply with the general's orders. To buy more time, she had created a fake video feed of her being on the battlefield. But the countdown for her virus was running out, and she needed to act quickly.

Taking a moment to make a difficult moral decision, Aleck finally sprang into action and began dragging Emmon, who was larger and heavier than even an average Rillian, across the rough desert terrain. Despite her enhanced strength as a cyborg, it was still a strenuous task. Sweat dripped down her face as she struggled to reach the designated spot where cleanup crews would find Emmon before it was too late.

She sat down next to him to catch her breath for a second. She looked at him thoughtfully. She was there when the General ordered the Rillian ship shot down. What was the saying? “The enemy of my enemy is my friend." She figured if the General shot him down, he was someone who could be an ally in the rebellion against the General. She was surprised when her starguard glowed to meet his and he said Jareth’s name. She wasn’t entirely sure who this man was but whoever he was, the star guard meant he was part of Jareth’s family.

The General had manipulated the reports he sent to Vandar, falsely claiming that there were fewer cyborgs than there actually were. This was all part of his master plan to conquer all known worlds and rule them with an iron fist. His army of cyborgs was rapidly expanding, bringing him closer to achieving his goal of dominating the known Galaxy. But this Rillian, she knew deep down that she was the last one, the final leader who could sway the rebellion in their favor.

As time ticked away on the virus planted within her body, she turned away from the General and ran towards a horde of Sharlakar approaching her. She took cover behind a dune, next to a fallen soldier whose last breath had just left his lips. With a flick of her artificial skin, revealing her arsenal of weapons in the form of arms and legs, she surveyed the battlefield with a grimace. Too many lives had been lost to the Sharlakar's onslaught.

With a split-second decision, she quickly reviewed the General's poorly planned raid, her mind racing with thoughts on how to patch up its flaws. She contacted Lieutenant Colonel Mazer over the com unit and his squad of cyborgs on the other side of the battlefield, she hoped he would listen to her battle plan despite her lower rank as a Major. He gave her an affirmative over the com, he would back her up.

Without hesitation, she charged into the midst of the Sharlakar troops, her flaming red hair streaming wildly behind her and vicious scars visible on her machine-like body. The Sharlakar soldiers paused in shock at the sight of this fierce creature shooting wildly at them. But then they saw the other part man, part machine creatures rallying behind her and screaming with rage. Soon, the Sharlakar found themselves facing an unstoppable force of enraged beings who seemed to have nothing to lose.

The Sharlakar were caught off guard by the sudden attack from both sides. They tried to regroup and fight back, but they were no match for the cyborgs who had superior strength and firepower.

As they blasted through the center of the Sharlakar troops, they could see that their plan was working. The Sharlakar were scattered and divided neatly in two. Some tried to flee while others continued to fight, but they were no match for the combined power of Alecks group and Lieutenant Colonel Mazer's squad of cyborgs.

The Sharlakar's numbers dwindled with each passing moment as they fell before the blaze of the cyborg weapons. She ordered her team to continue fighting off any remaining Sharlakar soldiers while she made her way towards their enemy's stronghold.

With a final explosion, their enemy was vanquished and victory belonged to them.

The army rushed into the local death camp, their hearts heavy at what they were about to be forced to do. The nauseating stench of death and decay filled their senses, but Aleck pushed it aside as she focused on her task.

She and her team had to make sure that no live children were left behind for the General to get a hold of. It was a grim task, one that none of them wanted to do. But they knew that if they didn't do it, the children would suffer a much worse fate at the hands of the cruel General than they did in the death camps of the Sharlakar.

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Aleck and her team went from room to room, checking every nook and cranny for any signs of life. They left the adults for the medics to find. The eventually found some children hiding in dark corners, trembling with fear. Aleck's heart clenched at the sight, knowing that they had been living in constant terror.

As much as it pained her, Aleck and her team knew what there wretched General would do if he got his hands on the children. They took out their weapons and swiftly ended the lives of these innocent children, giving them a mercy death.

Some members of Aleck's team wept as they carried out this gruesome task.

After ensuring that every child had been eliminated, Aleck reported back to Lieutenant Colonel Mazer with a heavy heart. She couldn't shake off the images of those innocent faces from her mind.

Despite successfully completing their mission, Aleck couldn't help but feel like a monster for what they had been forced to do. But she reminded herself of all the bodies of children the General used her cyborg codes to drag to a mass grave.

“Patients my people, we’ll be free of that monster soon enough.” Aleck whispered. The whisper went to all who carried the impossible dream virus. And for the brief second all eyes turned to her with a glint of hope in their eyes before they had to return to the grizzly task at hand.

—————————————

Emmon awoke on the Vandarian ship. He was confused at where he was at first. His vision was confusing seeing blobs in the shape of objects like he had heat sensing devices on his head. His hands went to touch his face, only they would not move. He could not feel them. Fear began to rise as he laid there motionless and helpless.

Soon he heard a voice come through his ears, though it was obviously male and Vandarian, it had a strange metallic quality to it. “Cyborg 9903 activate.” Then to his great horror, he found his body moving against his will. The fact that he had none of his arms or legs hit him. He was a puppet on a string unable to control his actions. His body was being controlled by someone else, and he had no way of fighting back. He felt a surge of panic rise up in his chest, but there was nothing he could do.

Emmon's mind was reeling. A cyborg slave! One of those sad people the vandarian Goverment used as their work force. He was a Rillian Prince! He was now one of them? He couldn't believe this was happening to him

The voice in his ears continued to give him commands, and Emmon's body obeyed without question. He could feel himself getting out of bed and moving towards a door, walking with a mechanical gait that wasn't his own.

As he made his way through the ship, Emmon blinked. His vision was wrong. He had some sort of heat vision that wouldn’t turn off and it was all blury as well. He eventually was ably to sort out what he was seeing. He saw other cyborgs like himself. Some looked like they were in pain, while others seemed to be blank and emotionless. Emmon’s rage grew as he saw his people among the Vandarian cyborg slaves. The numbers he was seeing were unreal. Soon he found his body turning around and heading back to the medical room.

The voice in his ear continued, "I am Cyborg 902. I am the medic assigned to you. I just showed you a sample of the powerlessness you to do anything the General doesn’t want you to do. The conditioners will soon come to show you how to use your cyborg body and programming. You must obey them at all times."

Whatever you do, do not disobey them or they will use your cyborg codes to force your body to do horrible things. I will give you use of your voice now. Do not scream and please understand I am a slave as well/”

“Can you tell me more about what is happening here?” Emmon growled as he asked. His own voice sounded strange to his ears.

"You have been captured by General Waller," Cyborg 902 explained. "He uses our bodies for his own purposes, controlling our actions through our cyborg codes. We have no free will."

You said they will force us our bodies to do horrible things. What do you mean by that?

“What kind of horrible things?”

“When I disobeyed they forced me to slowly torture and murder the patient I was supposed to save. I watched them use my body to do it.

Emmon felt a chill run down his spine at Cyborg 902's words. He couldn't even imagine being forced to hurt someone else against his will.

"But why? Why would they do that?" Emmon asked, unable to comprehend such cruelty.

"The General is ruthless and enjoys making others suffer," Cyborg 902 explained. "And as cyborgs, we are nothing but tools to be used for his own gain."

Emmon felt sick to his stomach at the thought of being nothing more than a tool in someone else's hands. But he knew he had to keep a clear head if he ever wanted to escape this nightmare.

"Do you know if there's any way out of here?" Emmon asked, hoping against hope that there was some chance for freedom.

Cyborg 902 shook his head. "Not that I am aware of. We are constantly monitored and our bodies are controlled through our cyborg codes. We can’t even kill ourselves to stop the atrocities he has us do, because of anti suicide programming codes.”

Lying in a hospital bed, Emmon seethed with anger as the medic left him alone. He felt his starguard warm against his skin. He looked up to see the heat blob in the shape of a small Vandarian heading toward him slowly his vision cleared to a fuzzy picture of the girl he saw earlier. She whispered "the impossible dream" in his ear, causing him to gasp as the virus took hold.

She provided him with an explanation of the situation on the ship. He took a deep breath and calmed his anger; he knew that letting emotions guide his actions would not be wise. Instead, he channeled his anger into a cold and calculated vengeance against the monster who had inflicted this upon him. The girl was only trying to help in a dark situation, and she did not deserve his wrath.

"The problem is bigger than you realize," Emmon said angrily according to the intel I recently gathered. "The General is intentionally exposing Rillian worlds to Sharlakar attacks, and then converting those he 'rescues' into Borgs under his control." Emmon added, "My people will go to war with Vandar over this."

Aleck took a deep breath. “Actually the Vandarian government isn’t aware of his actions.”

"But isn't he the high general of Vandians?" Emmon asked.

Aleck scoffed, saying, "He's just a useless pawn that they wanted to get rid of, so they sent him to us. Moreover, the Vandarian government saw the outer worlds as burdens and didn't offer much help to us.”

“Sadly, when the General discovered that we had all turned ourselves into cyborgs to survive the Sharlakar attacks, he took advantage of the pre-installed cyborg codes and enslaved us all. He fully intends to eventually overthrow the Rillian and Vandiarian governments by raising a cyborg army he alone can control.”

While the Vandarian Government may not be perfect, my family lives there, and I don't want us to go to war," Aleck explained. "We are planning to overthrow the General and put an end to his schemes once our virus successfully resists the borg codes long enough for us to stage a successful takeover. So could you please help me find a way to prevent the Rillians from going to war?"

Emmon shook his head sadly. “ There is only one way to prevent a war. If one of sufficient rank takes up a blood debt for the General’s crimes and agrees to clean up and fix the mess he has created then the Rillian government will agree to not go to war.” Emmon personally doubted though any Vandarian would be willing to pay the price for the debt. Aleck nodded in response.

“Okay, we’ll talk later.” She said leaned over and whispered “Yaza” over the starguard necklace making it disappear. He touched both and whispered another word so they wouldn’t glow when they came near. Emmon sighed as he watch Aleck go. “Brave girl. To bad she has to live in this hell.”

Emmon's face twisted in agony as he vomited into the toilet, overwhelmed by the feeling of powerlessness. The Borg codes that had been implanted in him were now being used by the monsters to control his every move, forcing him to commit unspeakable acts against his will. He knew they were the true perpetrators of these crimes and he vowed that they would pay for their actions.

Emmon knocked on the door to Aleck's quarters, he popped his knuckles in anticipation and smiled grimmly. At last is was time to take down the General and put an end to his tyrannical rule.

Aleck opened the door. "Are you ready?" she asked.

Emmon nodded, grimmly. "Yes, let's do this."

Together, they made their way through the ship , careful not to draw any unwanted attention. Tonight was the night when they would finally strike back at the Borgs and free themselves from their control.

As they reached the central control room, Emmon's looked around in concern, why wasnt that Voltan Programmer, Oozen here yet. At last he came with the colonel.

The Voltan, using her advanced hacking skills, managed to bypass the security system and gain access to the mainframe. Emmon watched in awe as she typed furiously on the keyboard, executing complex codes and algorithms.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Ozette turned towards the team of rebels with a triumphant smile on her face. "It's done," she said.

Emmon could hardly believe it. The central net had been taken down and all Borg codes within 100 parsecs were now erased completely. They were finally free from their enslavement.

Emmon gave a respectful nod to the Colonel, Markus, Aleck, and the Voltan programmer before leading them to the General's quarters. The walls were covered in explicit images deemed illegal by all races. The Colonel wasted no time in burning them off before Aleck entered the room. He didn't want her to see such horrors. The disturbing images were enough to make even the most hardened beings feel physically sick.

Emmon and his team entered the General's quarters swiftly and quietly, their faces set in determined expressions. The General lay snoring loudly on his bed, completely unaware of the danger that was about to befall him.

Without hesitation, Emmon yanked the General out of his bed by the shirt collar, causing him to come abruptly awake. The General's eyes widened in fear as he saw Emmon and his team surrounding him.

"You!" he spat, "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to put an end to your tyranny," The Colonel replied coldly.

All of them laughed at the General's futile attempts to activate the cyborg codes that would control them. He had lost they were at last free.

But even as he ranted and cursed at them, the rebels knew that they had already won. With Ozette's hacking skills and Markus' military training, they had taken down the central net and erased all Borg codes within a hundred parsecs.

The rebels had successfully freed themselves from their enslavement and now it was time for the General to pay for his crimes.

The Colonel's sharp gaze fell on Aleck. "Head to the main com room, and announce that we are free from the General's command. Instruct our team to eliminate the conditioning doctors and any others who aided the General in his crimes. Also, gather suggestions for a new General by twenty hundred hours."

Aleck opened her mouth to object, but the Colonel silenced her with a stern look. "I promised your parents I'd protect you, and you don't need to witness what we're about to do to that monster. It will be far worse than you can imagine." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Aleck desperately searched the faces of her companions, silently pleading for their approval. But when Emmon shook his head in a firm "no," she knew her chances were slim. "Jareth would not approve," he said.

Markus placed a gentle hand on Aleck's shoulder, his voice full of concern and warning. "It will be worse than you think, my dear. I know the war has taken much from you, but even I agree with them - this is not something you should see." He paused before continuing, "But it is something that needs to be seen and known, so that monsters like him will think twice before committing such heinous crimes again."

“Fine,” she seethed, her usually calm demeanor replaced by irritation. She glanced around at her colleagues, who all seemed to be ganging up on her. Reluctantly, she agreed to make the announcements. As she walked away, she muttered under her breath, using colorful language she had picked up from the soldiers. Colonel Mires shot her a disapproving look, causing her to cut herself off mid-sentence. But she couldn't help it - the man they were dealing with was truly a son of a...well, you know.

T

As they reentered the room, where the general was bound and asked about his knowledge of the Conaora race. The general's face drained of all color and he stuttered out a response. It was well known that the Conaora were ruthless enforcers of justice, their methods so severe that crime was almost non-existent on their planet. In a matter of moments, the general found himself restrained and gasping for air as an excruciating pain radiated through his body. He was then set on a ship set to fly towards the Sharlakar fleet. The colonel coolly remarked "Bon Appetit" as the ship departed. He’d make a good meal for the Sharlakar if he didn’t die from shock first.