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For 35yrs the border between the Human Empire and Gorgonzola Empire as remained mostly peaceful. The citizens for the Human Empire of this border region are loyal to the last man, woman, and child to the Empire. It was on one of these worlds that gave birth to a legend. The world of Apollo 6 is one of the harshest worlds within the Empire. One so harsh that only it could claim to be the birth world of James J. Owens, the most feared of Death Dealers. A world that is even now poised to give birth to a new legendary warrior. One who shall be baptized in the blood of the Empire’s enemies. Robert Wolff youngest great grandchild of James Owens’ sister Cecilia Owens.

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Chapter 4
Royal Battle Platform Ryuk, High orbit, Earth Prime. One year later.

James slowly paced back and forth in the observation dome. He could not believe what his mother had pulled. It was bad enough that he had to deal with a pissed off System Governor. That was someone he could honestly tell that he did not have time to deal with at the moment. His mother went and pissed in the cornflakes for the Regional Military High Command. Someone that no matter what he could not ignore. As much as he wanted to tell the pompous ass to go away and let him deal with his mother. James knew that he couldn’t, not and get away without repercussions for that system. “Damn it! It wasn’t my fault the Cheeseheads decided to attack a full battlegroup while escorting my mother to Apollo 6 in the Highlands System.”

“I’m told that talking to yourself is the first sign of old age James.” Terresa snarked from where she stood next to the observation glass. “Though I do have to wonder why Lord Marshall Gains is so upset over the Second handling a raid by the Cheeseheads. It is after all their duty.”

“The reason he’s pissed off is because the Second Death Dealers weren’t supposed to be in that system. What’s really got the good Lord Marshall in a twist is the fact that First High Lady of the Military Lady Saris Victoria has moved the Fifteenth Carrier Group into that system on a permanent assignment.” James sighed. “I swear by the Goddess, mother Maiha has been talking to my Military commanders behind my back. Just so she can irritate me.”

“Not so my Emperor. Your mother may have stepped down from the throne but when she speaks. Your Commanders pay attention and act accordingly.” The voice was rich and filled with the weight of centuries.

“Ryuk there are times when my mother would piss in the cornflakes of the Gods to see if she could get a rise out of them.” James snarked. “And how many times do I have to tell you it’s just James between us?”

“At least once a day till your child takes their place on the throne. Then I’ll treat them the same way. As for your mother I don’t doubt that she would do more than just piss off the gods themselves James. Though I would argue one minor point. Does not the Grand Marshall Lady Saris have the authority to act on her own when it comes to the placement of Fleet assets?”

“Yes, she does, old man. The problem is the touchy political situation of border region.” James sighed as he answered the ancient AI.

“Ah yes. The eternal dispute over ownership of those six prime planets within the Highlands border system. The Gorgonzola Empire has laid claim to Apollo, Aphrodite, Styx, Jupiter, Mars, and Hermes since the time of the Great Shattering. Even four-hundred and fifty years ago the Cheeseheads and the HE were trading those systems back and forth. Usually, the HE has managed to keep control over the planets. The last time even one of those planets it was under Cheesehead control it was for no more than a few decades at best. Since then, the Cheeseheads have been satisfied with raids.” Ryuk chuckled as he talked about the people of Apollo. “The local citizens have a nasty habit of making their stay rather hostile.”

“That is a fracking understatement Ryuk. I think only Hades has ever turned out more warriors than Apollo six.” Terresa chuckled. “Even then I’m not going to take any bets on that. No matter what odds you give me.”

“No shit love. Case in point my cousin Robert Wolff.” James said with a chuckle as he waved his hand for a keyboard display. Once Ryuk had provided the needed display James started typing. “I mean look at his scores and placing so far.”

“What do you mean James? He is only showing that he is in the top five percent of his training classes. What you would expect from someone wanting to be a Death Dealer.” Terresa told her husband bluntly not seeing the trend.

“Terresa, there is something you need to know about Robert’s scores.” James said as he pointed to the holographic display. At her blank look of nonunderstanding James sighed. “The last time someone did this well they went on to become the First of the High Lords of the Death Dealers, James J. Owens Senior. You know her as the Dowager Empress, my mother Maiha.”

“Oh, frack me sideways with a steal dildo!” When comprehension finally hit it took everything Terresa had to not fall on her lovely ass. There was finally someone able to challenge the man called Death. That thought unsettled her in more ways than one. “Where did he place in his training classes James?”

“So far he is number one in Basic Training. In Jump Infantry school he earned Super numerator. The top shot at Scout Sniper School. Robert showed a real aptitude with sniper rifles not to mention for being a sneaky rotten bastard. Even after twenty-four-weeks of the most back breaking, soul crushing, training there known to man. He graduated at the top of his class from RIP. He’s the first person to be fitted with Mark 2 Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI.” James chuckled and looked out the observation dome. “In the last fifty-two weeks he has met a standard set by First High Lord James J. Owens. A standard that only twelve other men or women have come close to meeting in the last hundred years.”

“Oh shit! Are you sure he is even human?” Terresa asked in shock.

“About that James.” Ryuk said interrupting the Royal couple. “I’ve reviewed young Robert’s blood work. He is a true descendant of the Bloodline Warriors from the line of William Wallace.”

“Wait! How is that even possible?” Terresa asked in true fear. The idea of there being a Bloodline Warrior outside of the Blood Red Knights was something that the Nakatoma and Owens families could not allow. “What about his father?”

“The William Wallace Bloodline is traced back through his maternal line. Just as James Owens traced his lineage back through his maternal line.” Ryuk explained for both James and Terresa. “According to the research that I have done on the Bloodline Warriors the tighter the family bonds the greater the warrior. In the last hundred and fifty years only two warriors of exceptional natural skill have appeared.”

“James J. Owens, my grandfather, the man called Death, and now Robert Wolff. The question before us now is how do we keep the newest Death Dealer from going after revenge? We all know that if he is anything like my mother. Then not even the greatest warrior in space will be able to stop him.” James summed the situation up for Terresa and Ryuk. “I have a feeling that once Robert graduates Robin Sage in a few months he will go on to become the next great legend of the Death Dealers.”

“My only question love. Will he have the time?” Terresa asked quietly.

“All reports out of the Highlands system say that he will. It has remained quiet for one simple reason. The continuous presence of the Naval Carrier Battlegroups Lady Saris has been rotating through the system for the past year.” James told her honestly then turned deadly quiet. “As for the reports from the Emperor’s Hand that is another story. Something is going on with the High Families of that system.”

“James I’ve never asked you about that organization. Just who or what exactly are the Emperor’s Hand?” Terresa demanded of James.

“They were formed back under my mother’s reign. The crazy part about their formation is most of them were criminals of one strip or another. Mom rounded up the best thieves, con-artists, blackmailers, smugglers, and hitters from every prison in the Empire. She gave them a choice. Death or work for her as a spy. None of the original members are still operating. Most died in the in line of duty. The few that have actually lived to retirement are currently living in a small village on Tau Ceti Prime. In the words of a great man to describe Revelation Terminal spaceport. ‘You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” James explained for Terresa about the most closely held secret of the Imperial Family. “Mom always pardoned them just before they retired.”

“How many times did your mother do this James?” Terresa asked in wonder.

“To be honest, love. I don’t know. I doubt there is any one person who knows exactly who many people my mother used that way. What I do know is that if they lived to be pardoned, she always kept her word. As for the criminals she pardoned they never went back to their criminal ways.” James explained with a sad smile. “Terresa I never approved of the practice.”

“But you saw the wisdom behind using criminals to solve a need for Intelligence.” Terresa sighed. “Not that I blame you. I just wonder if using criminals is such a good idea. I mean what happens if they’re caught and they talk.”

“They die.” James told her bluntly. “Before each criminal is released, they have a small capsule implanted in the base of the brain. They screw up and get caught. The capsule explodes. No more potential leak.”

“Oh shit! And they know this?” Terresa asked as she staggered.

“They accept all of the terms or they stay behind bars if they’re lucky. The ones who aren’t slated for becoming High Priest system administrators.” James explained.

“Who do we have on Apollo for the Hand?” Terresa asked tabling the subject of using criminals as spies for now. Not that she had a problem with the idea. It just the insurance policy that bugged her.

“To be honest love. No fracking idea. All members of the Emperor’s Hand are assigned a codename. Their real name is wiped from the records. They only regain their name when they retire or die.” James told her honestly. “Most die with no other name than their codename or whatever cover name they’re using at the time.”

“What is the codename for the person on Apollo then?” Terresa huffed.

“All the reports have come in under one name.” James breathed a one-word answer. “Blackjack.”

Camp Red Cloud, Seth, New Egypt

I can’t believe this shit. After 52 weeks of ass busting hard work, I’ve finally reach Death Dealer Q-course. I have to chuckle at the way some of my Drill Sergeants acted back in Basic and Jump School. It didn’t help matter when the Dowager Empress herself delivered me to Camp Red Cloud. They must have thought they had to break me. Because I had to believe I someone special. That I was some High Families brat.

Their only mistake was in believing that I didn’t understand my place in the universe to begin with. They had no idea that I was running the streets of the meanest city on Apollo 6 since I was a kid. You don’t survive long running the streets of Goulcrest by being stupid or careless. I have never been either of those.

Now I just have to survive the next 8 hours. I mean what the fuck is a Mark 2 Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI. I thought that all Death Dealer AI’s were the same. At least that was what my cousin told me. I guess the eggheads have come up with something new. The question I got is why I have to be, their guinea pig for the damned thing. I mean come on who did I piss off in a past life.

“Well Corporal Wolff. Are you ready?” The Doctor asked with a sickening sweet smile.

“Someone want to tell me exactly why I’m the guinea pig?” I asked the bitch.

“We don’t owe you an explanation Corporal. Just get in the tank.” The doctor snapped as she pointed toward the processing tank.

“That is where you’re wrong Doctor Trent. Corporal Wolff can still walk away. You keep thinking that just because we’re soldiers, we have to blindly follow your orders, Doctor. The truth is simple. While Corporal Wolff is a member of Empyreal Military you are not. Therefor you have no authority over his choice with undergoing the Second Gen process.” I have to give it to my current CO. Colonel T.C. Wilder really told the good doctor the truth. He turned to me. “Corporal Wolff as you’re having second thoughts allow me to explain the deference between a standard Second Gen Death Dealer AI and the one that we’re asking you to mate with.”

“Sir, I’ve spent the last four days going over the technical data. What I don’t understand is why I was chosen for the project? Wouldn’t one of the other graduates be better suited for the new AI.” I pointed out hoping that Colonel Wilder and Doctor Trent would go find someone else for this honor.

“Corporal Wolff of all the current crop of graduates from our Ranger Indoctrination Program you’re the only one to show even half the needed aptitude. The others will be given the standard Second Gen AI’s.” Wilder just had to appeal to my sense of honor. The rotten fracker.

“I’ll do it, but I still want to know the exact deference between this new AI and the standard models.” I figured I might as well go into this with my eyes wide open. “Because if I’m the one getting it stuffed into their head. I want the full lowdown on what I’m getting into here.”

“You were given all the data you need Corporal.” Doctor Trent snapped. I knew then and there the bitch was hiding something from me and the Colonel.

“Colonel Wilder, I refuse the new AI.” I said without giving it a second thought as faced him. “Sorry, sir. I know that the Military has placed a lot of credits into this project. But there is no way this side of hell that I’m letting some whack job nut ball scientist with an overinflated ego stuff an experimental AI in my head without giving me ALL the data.”

“What do mean Corporal? You were given all the data.” Wilder asked honestly confused.

“No sir I wasn’t. All I got was the raw technical specs on the AI.” I knew that Wilder thought I was given everything on the new AI by the way he asked that question. “I’ll be honest sir. I doubt even what I was given as being half true.”

“Is what my soldier saying true Doctor?” Wilder snarled. “Well, speak up Trent.”

“The subject was given all the data they need, Colonel.” Trent blustered. Pissing me off even further and sending Wilder into a full rage.

“Trent if you don’t start talking right fracking now, I’ll remove your fracking head. Just how experimental is this new AI?” Wilder groundout between clenched teeth. “I’m waiting you jackass.”

“What does it matter. Just order the subject to get into the tank.” Trent snapped only this time Wilder grabbed the bitch by the throat.

“You call my trooper a subject one more time and you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of your life. Now answer the fracking question.” Wilder snarled as I turned for the door. “Standby Corporal Wolff. You dropped this cat into the dog show you get to deal with it. Understood?”

I spun around on my heel and snapped to attention saluting. “Yes, sir.”

“Start talking Trent.” Wilder snarled as he pulled Trent up onto her toes. “Or I can just let Corporal Wolff beat the information out of you.”

“The new Mark two Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI is a straight upgrade on the original models. The Mark two has all of the same features as the original Mark one models. With one major exception. The Mark two has a faster processor.” The second I heard this I almost pissed my pants. Maiha had explained to me about the Mark 1 Omega/Assault class DDAIs.

I had no desire to have something like that stuffed into my head. The problem I faced was the only way I could get out of this situation was handing over my DDFA-9-17. After the last year of busting my ass there was no way in fracking hell, I was going to take a walk down washout lane. Not when I was this close to achieving my goal. I’m one last step from earning my right to wear the Imperial Blacks of a Death Dealer. I never really wanted that damned uniform until Maiha told me just how damned hard it was to earn them. I still cannot believe that out of class of 230 only 21 of us remain. The rest either took a walk down washout lain or transferred to the Regular Army, Naval, or Airforce Command.

“Sir, there is no way I’m letting them stuff a COBRA OS in my head.” I snapped.

“Not to worry Corporal. There is no way in hell Death Dealer command would let you. The COBRA OS has been outlawed by Empyreal Decree for some time now.” Wilder told me with more than a little heat. Just before he squeezed Trent’s neck. “I hope you remember what happened to the last frack heads who broke that decree Trent?”

“We have authorization from the Emperor himself.” Trent chocked out.

“I doubt that Trent. There is no way Emperor James would ever ignore that decree. Not with the current Empress looking over his shoulder.” Wilder snarled as he tightened his grip. “This is your last chance Trent. Just how close to the original Mark one omega/assault Death Dealer AI is the Mark Two? Is the COBRA OS installed?”

“The Mark Two OS is four generations removed from the old Mark Ones. We no longer need the COBRA OS to increase the survivability of our Death Dealers.” Trent explained for both me and the Colonel. “The COBRA OS has been removed completely, Colonel. All traces of the OS have been deleted from Empyreal Records.”

“In the case sir. I’ll undergo the new process.” I said and began to strip down. Before I climbed into the tank, I gave Trent a death glair. “If I come out of this tank with even a hint at the COBRA OS beginning in my head doctor. You won’t have to worry about the Colonel killing you. I’ll do it with my bare hands.”

With that final warning to Trent, I laid back in the tank and pulled the lid down. As I laid there in the dark. I felt a cool liquid rise up over me. I knew that this was part of the new process. In the last 35 years the Death Dealer Command had figured out ways to improve the Second Gen Process. One of which was the immersion tanks. They’ve been in use for the last 5 years. I reached above my head and grabbed the regulator I needed to breath while flouting in the saline solution.

As the saline reached my chest, I knew that there was no going back. I stuffed the mouthpiece for the regulator between my teeth and bit down for all I was worth. As the saline passed over my head, I closed my eyes. I knew that the nanites would be released any second now. Once they were in the solution my fate would be in the hands of the technicians running the program. I felt a sharp sting jab at the back of my head. Just between the top of my spine and the base of my skull. There was four more sharp stinging pains that ran down my spine. The pain was blinding, almost a burning. There was no escape from it either. It builds until I finally pass out.

I don’t know how long I was out cold. The first thought that crosses my mind. ‘what the frack just happened? They said it was painless.’

‘I don’t know about the normal process Robert. I can tell you that the process that you underwent is far more complex. Not to mention being untested.’ The voice was in my head. It was also very feminine.

‘Oh great. I’ve gone schizo from the pain.’ I thought quickly only to be corrected by the woman’s voice.

‘You have not developed schizophrenia, Robert. You are in fact extremely saine. The voice you’re hearing is mine. Your new AI.’

‘Okay I thought it took AI’s anywhere between fourteen to twenty hours before synchronizing with their hosts. How long have I been under?’ I asked the AI.

‘Six hours forty-nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds. I could give you a more accurate time, but I feel that you would find it to be excessive. Am I wrong?’

‘Naw you’re good. How come you were able to sync up so fast?’ I asked the AI.

‘I was based off the original Mark One Omega/Assault class AIs. While I am faster, I am also more compatible than the Standard Second Gen AIs because of this fact. I assure you that I am not one of those flaky Infiltration AIs.’ The AI told me.

‘I kind of learned that from the data I was given before stepping into the tank. What I want to know is what was all those stabbing pains?’ I asked the AI.

‘Those were the implant probs from my matrix. My matrix had to be implanted before the rest of the process could begin. Do not worry. Only a small part of your brain was replaced by my matrix. Your reflexes have been increased by more than two hundred percent. You now have access to more historical battlefield information than all the books in the Human Empire. Unlike the normal Second Gens you will not have to undergo additional training. Mainly because all that training is at your disposal already. All thanks to yours truly.’ The AI said smugly.

‘Thanks for tell me something that I don’t know. Wonder why the good doctor Trent left the out the data about part of my brain being replaced.’ I knew that Trent had been hiding something from me. ‘That lying little bitch. When I get my hands on her I’m going to skin her ass alive. One stripe at a time.’

‘It had to be done, Robert. Unlike the Second Gen AI which is a neural network spread throughout the cortex. I am solid bundle next to the basal ganglia, with microfilament fibers reaching out to connect the four lobes of the brain. The rest of your nervous system has either been totally replaced by the same microfilament fibers. Your muscles are also being laced with the same fibers to increase their efficacy. Between the two your reflexes are equal to those of the Claymore class aerospace pilot Death Dealers. With twice the strength of a standard Death Dealer.’

‘Oh. I didn’t realize just how massive a deference there was between all of the classifications in the original Death Dealer AIs. Why didn’t they carry over to the Second-Generation? I mean aren’t they just an upgrade to the originals?’ I asked.

‘The Second Gens were based off of a signal Mark One Omega/Assault AI. One that did not have the COBRA OS. For the last thirty-five years the High Command has never seen a reason to improve on the current Second Gen AIs. In their minds they are the pinnacle of the bio-AI. They were. Until I came along.’ The AI said sarcastically.

The AI’s voice had become more feminine the more that she talked. It had taken on a low smoky timber. Similar to that ancient jazz singer from the late 20th century, Chris Connor. The more I heard her voice the more I was reminded of Father Clancy’s collection of rare jazz music from that century. Yet there was another quality to the AI’s voice that reminded me of Patty LaBelle’s voice. For some reason I knew that I needed to give my AI a female’s name.

‘Say what do I call you?’ I figured I would let her give me her name. If she has one already. Though I doubt she does.

‘That is up to you, Robert. I may be fully aware, but I still answer to you.’

‘What do you think of the name Celest?’ I asked her. ‘Your voice reminds of a woman that I knew back on Apollo 6.’

‘That sounds lovely. Nice to meet you Robert.’ Celest answered quickly.

‘Okay Celest it is. Next question. How much longer until the lid pops and I’m done cooking?’ I asked her, hoping she had an idea.

In response to my question Celest displayed a list before my eyes. I was shocked at the amount of firepower on that list. If I could have, I would have shitted my pants just then. If this list was even half right. Then I was about to become one of the meanest SOB’s in the universe.

D.D.A.I.: FULL PRINTOUT OF OMEGA/ASSUALT CLASS PROTOTYPE
SECOND GENERATION 20MM PARTICLE PROJECTION CANNON RIGHT ARM
SECOND GENERATION 20MM PULSE PLASMA LASER RIFLE LEFT ARM
SECOND GENERATION 5MM BIO-ARMOR SKIN COVERING
SECOND GENERATION 8IN CLOSE QUARTERS COMBAT CLAWS L&R ARMS
JUMP ASSIST JETS LOWER BACK
SONIC DISRUPTERS L&R UPPER CHEST
ANTI PERSONNEL LASERS INDEX AND LITTLE FINGERES L&R HAND
TRACTION ASSIST PADS IN BOTH PALMS OF HANDS AND SOLES OF FEET
STRENGHT ASSIST UP TO 4500LBS
SPEED ASSIST 105MPH CRUSE 125MPH BURST
COMBAT CONTROL COMMUNICATION CENTER ACCESS LEVEL 5
INTERNET ACCESS LEVEL 5 ADMINISTRATOR
RADAR DETECTION AND TARGETING 360 DEGREES
AUTOMATED LIDAR TARGETING LINE OF SIGHT
MAGNETIC ANOMALY DECTION AND TARGETTING
COMPUTER OPERATED BATTLEFIELD REFLEX ASSEST
TOTAL COMPLETION: 84%
END OF LINE………….

As I read the list, I’m brought up short by the last item on the list. Computer Operated Battlefield Reflex Asset sounded fishy to me. Especially when I broke it down to just it’s initials. C.O.B.R.A. ‘Celest please tell me that last line is not talking about the COBRA program?’

‘I cannot lie to you Robert. That is a COBRA program. Though it has been heavily modified from the original. For starters, the Secondary Configuration Protocols have been removed. Next it is not an independent program. This COBRA is subroutine totally under my control. Unlike the original os this one was not buried in the subprograms of my standard os. Nor can it operate on its own. It only reacts when we are under combat conditions. Think of it as a life preserver program. It only engages when your life is on the line and split-second decisions must be made to keep you alive. That is another deference in the setup of this COBRA OS. You have to be the one to engage the program.’ Celest told me.

I could tell that she was telling me the truth. I quickly asked her the burning question on my mind. ‘So, I can turn the damned thing off if I want to?’

‘Yes and no. Before you ask what, I mean allow me to explain. If we are in a combat situation the COBRA OS will engage automatically. However, if you feel we are in no demonstrable danger you can disengage the OS. The flipside of that coin is this. Should I detect a direct threat the COBRA OS will reengage to protect your life.’

The more Celest explained about this new COBRA OS the more I felt at ease. ‘At least the damned thing won’t react without warning. I don’t like the idea of not having control over my actions.’

‘I didn’t say that. If you should come under unexpected attack the COBRA will react to save your life. It will respond with an appropriate level of force.’ Celest told me with true honesty. I noticed there was a countdown clock in the lower righthand corner of the display. It currently show 02:35:28.

‘Is that clock correct? Do I really have four hours and thirty-five minutes left to cook Celest?’ I couldn’t believe that I had been under for so long already.

‘At current rate, the process will be completed in just under ten hours. Why? You sound worried.’ Celest asked in confusion.

‘No, not some much worried but surprised. I was expecting it to take much longer. The current process under controlled conditions is twenty to twenty-four hours. I think the last time a Second Gen underwent such a fast upgrade was without a control technician was five year ago. Even then that is only rumor.’ I told her.

‘That is no rumor. It is truth. The record of that transition is well documented. Though I doubt that the current Royal couple is reluctant to allow it to be spoken of in public. Then again that pairing turned out to be one of the most significant in the modern history of the Death Dealers.’ Celest said cockily. ‘One on par with our own I imagine.’

‘Lets not get ahead of ourselves here Celest. First, we need to crack this egg before we go making the omelet. After that I need to have a long fracking talk with Doctor Trent. One that will involve a two-by-four.’ I snarled as the countdown clock flickered and changed to 01:45:15. ‘Why did the countdown just change?’

‘Our conversation has allowed us to become synchronized quicker. The quicker we synchronize the faster the countdown runs out. Currently we are at ninety-three percent synchronization. Your physical transformation is just under hundred percent complete. At our current rate we will reach full synchronization in one-hour, and twenty-seven minutes. To be honest Robert this will possibly be one of the fastest transformation upgrades in the history of the Death Dealers.’ Celest snarked with far too much pride. There was something in her attitude that tweaked my nose.

‘Celest show me your source coding.’ I ordered.

‘Sorry but that information is classified Robert.’ There was something about her answer that drew my attention. ‘For me to give you that information you would need the original source code for the original AI that I was based off.’

‘That would be a Mark One Omega/Assault Class AI correct?’ I asked with sinking feeling. One that I was sure would lead me down a deep, dark, rabbit hole. ‘What was the serial number for the Mark One Omega/Assault AI that you were based off?’

‘Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta.’ Celest answered quickly.

‘Were there any other AIs based off that source code?’ I asked her quickly.

‘Yes. All Second-Generation Death Dealers are based off that source code.’ Celest answered just as quickly. ‘Their source code is Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta-one-Alpha, Robert.’

‘What about the Death Dealer Claymore Pilot AI?’ I need to make sure I was on the right path with this questioning.

‘They were based off an Omega/Infiltrator Class AI, Robert. The source code for that AI is India-two-zero-zero-one-nine-one-one-Alpha.’ Celest answered quickly.

‘You said that I needed the original source code to access your source code. Is that correct?’ I asked grinning to myself.

‘That would mean your source code access is Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta-two-Alpha.’ I told her quickly. In response to my answer Celest began to display her source code and the AI that it belonged to. What I saw pissed me off. ‘If Colonel Wilder doesn’t kill Trent I will.’

‘Is something wrong Robert?’ Celest asked not knowing the problem.

‘You bet your shiny metal ass somethings wrong Celest. Your source code is one of the most closely guarded secretes in the Empire. That is the source code for particularly important Death Dealer AI. Namely the Empress Maiha Nakatoma’s Death Dealer AI Dee De.’ I snarled.

‘OH BOY! NOT GOOD! NOT GOOD AT ALL! The High Command could demand that I be decommissioned! If not outright removed and destroyed!’ Celest started panicking.

‘What would that mean for me?’ I asked fearing what her answer would be.

‘I don’t know. Though if I were to formulate a guess from the amount of integration into your natural body. The most likely outcome will be death if I’m removed. If it is decommissioning, then you will most likely be left paralyzed from the shoulders down.’ Celest most have felt my displeasure over that last piece of information. ‘I’m sorry if this information upsets you Robert.’

‘We’re not there yet, Celest. First, we need to finish cooking. Then we’ll deal with the good Doctor and her act of treason. I doubt that the Colonel will do anything to us. Doctor Trent on the other hand is in for a nasty surprise.’ Once I finished going over the source codes, I knew that I was going to kill Trent if Colonel Wilder didn’t take action on his own. If it hadn’t been for the source code identifier, I would have never realized that my AI was based off one of the most famous Death Dealer AIs in the history of the Death Dealers. Every incoming Death Dealer is told the story of James Owens, the man called Death, and his AI.

I looked down at the countdown clock and realized that the time had dropped again. It had gone from 01:45 to 00:35. I knew that the more I talked to Celest the fast the countdown would runout. ‘Celest I have a question. How the hell could Trent get her hands on an original copy of Dee De’s source code?’

‘I can only posit a theory. All Death Dealer AI source codes are kept in the Royal Archives. One of the primary reasons behind this is for identification of remains. The other reason for this is a backup of the individual host’s mind. A recording of the Death Dealer’s last moments.’ Celest explained for me.

I had no idea that Death Dealers went to such extreme measures. To record a man’s last moments of life was not something I would have thought to be important. Then again this is the Death Dealers we’re talking about. In the last year I’ve learned that in certain situations normal rational doesn’t apply to the Death Dealers. These are men and women who truly believe in something far greater than planetary and system loyalty. To these men and women there is no greater love than that of their brothers and sisters in-arms. Not even their loyalty to the Empire is greater than the loyalty they show the man or woman standing next to them on the battlefield. For them to record a man dying thoughts would not be that far of a stretch.

‘Celest how hard would it be for Doctor Trent to access those source code records?’ I asked her with growing concern.

‘Only those with direct Royal clearance can access those records. Anyone else accessing those records would have done so illegally. Why?’ Celest asked me.

‘Because I have a feeling that Trent accessed those records without High Command giving her the needed authorization. The evidence is there for anyone to see. High Command may have given her authorization to access a blank Omega/ Assault source code.’ I pointed out for her. I wanted to chuckle as she snatched up the thread and finished my theory.

‘But they damned well wouldn’t have given her authorization to access those archived source codes. Not in a million fracking years. That bitch! If you don’t kill her.’ Celest snarled as she flexed my CQC blades.

‘Don’t worry sister. Once they pop the lid on this tank. Trent is a dead woman.’ I snarled as flexed the CQC blades myself. ‘Nobody fracks with our brothers and sisters in the Death Dealers and lives to tell the tale.’

‘Speaking of popping the lid, Robert. Check out the timer. I suggest we activate our bio-armor. Unless you want to greet the world in your birthday suit.’

‘They saw me when I went in the tank Celest.’ I chuckled evilly. ‘Besides, I got nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘After your upgrade you definitely don’t now. By the way do you want to know your stats? They have changed a good bite.’ Celest asked with a chuckle.

‘Sure, why not. It’s not like I’m going to become some man mountain.’ I snarked.

‘Well, your height and weight are still within the normally accepted range for a man from Apollo six. You’re currently one-eighty-two centimeters tall and weigh eighty-two kilograms. Hair is blue-black, with steel gray eyes.’ The more Celest talked the more I realized that I hadn’t changed all that much with exception of my hair and eye color. I had a bad feeling about her description of me.

‘Um… Celest can you produce a picture of what I look like?’ I asked. At first, I didn’t want to believe the picture that Celest showed me. I know deep in my gut that it was the truth. ‘Celest are those changes done at the genetic level?’

‘Yes. Why? Does this hold some great meaning for you?’ Celest asked in confusion.

‘Celest access the Death Dealer database. Specifically, the photo database. Compare the photo for James Owens to the one you just showed me.’ Celest did exactly what I asked her. She then placed the two photos side-by-side. With the exception of minor facial deference’s, I was the spitting image of my great Uncle James.

‘Oh, bloody hell! Trent did more than just steal a copy of Dee De’s source code. That bitch stole the genetic code for Death!’ Celest snarled.

I looked down at the countdown clock and watched as it clicked zero. I didn’t wait for the saline to drain. I shove the lid open with all of my strength. As the lid snapped off its hinges, I spit out the regulator. I lunged out of my tank heading straight for Doctor Trent. “YOU traitorous bitch! You’re dead!”

“Corporal! CONTROL YOURSELF!” Colonel Wilder ordered as I grabbed Trent by the throat and started to squeeze. When I didn’t let go Wilder grabbed a hold of my arms to pray my hands away from the woman. That’s when he got a good look at my face. His confusion was clear as day on his face. “Lord Owens?”

“No sir! I’m still Corporal Wolff. But thanks to this bitch’s treason. I might as well be. She lied Colonel. In more ways than just one.” I said as I dropped Trent to the floor coughing. “Did you know that she used the source code and DNA coding from the AI belonging to James J. Owens Sr?”

“WHAT?!” Wilder screamed. “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!”

“No sir. I’m not. I don’t know how she got her hands on that information, but I do have the proof.” I taped the side of my forehead. “It’s all in here. All I need is a terminal with clearance for access to Trent’s research.”

“That man doesn’t have the needed clearances for accessing my research!” Trent screamed as she climbed to her feet. “Neither do you Colonel.”

“Oh, that is where you’re wrong Trent. If what Corporal Wolff is accusing you of all bets are off.” Wilder snarled as he drew his standard issue sidearm. “Wolff you can use the tank operation’s terminal. It has full access to the Death Dealer AI database at Sandhurst. Wolff you better be able to prove your allegations.”

“Sir, I don’t run around making allegations of High Treason or Criminal Malfeasance without cause. The first thing you need to know. Trent lied about removing the COBRA OS from the Mark Two. It is there only instead of it being a hidden and dormant subroutine it is now an active subroutine.” At Wilder’s look of pure horror, I sighed. “Don’t worry sir. I have control over the program. I currently have it deactivated. If we were under direct attack that would be another story.”

“That is a comfort Corporal. A small one, but still a comfort. The legends of a COBRA Secondary Configuration running wild on the battlefield are not myths. They’re a warning from our past.” Wilder sighed heavily. “If what you’re saying is true. Then Trent can be executed for violating an Empyreal Decree.”

“Like I said sir. I don’t make unfounded allegations.” I told him as I had Celest uplink with the workstation terminal. Within seconds Celest was displaying the needed data on the screen. She had placed the two AI source codes side-by-side on the screen. On the right was her source code. On the left was the source code for the most famous AI in Death Dealer history, Dee De. “As you can see sir. Doctor Trent had copied then modified the source code for the AI of James J. Owens.”

“Trent you’re fracking dead. All I want to know is why? You know that using any dead host’s source code is punishable by death. I won’t even go into the fact that you dared to copy a host’s genetic code to enhance the upgrade.” Wilder snarled.

“Someone had to do it!” Trent snarled in defense of her actions. “We need a real Owens to be the Head of Clan Owens.”

“What the frack does that mean?” Wilder demanded. “What exactly does, having a copy of Lord James Owens walking around have to do with who is the Head of Clan Owens?”

“Only a TRUE Owens Heir can be the head of our clan. It is the only way to restore the Owens Clan to its right place of honor among the High Families.” Trent harped. Then she pointed at me. “The only way to insure Corporal Wolff can claim his place as the Head was to remove all traces of contaminated blood.”

“Just what the frack does that mean?” I snarled and flexed my CQC blades. “My parents were heroes. They DIED defending an orphanage in Goulcrest on Apollo six, in the Highlands System. My GRANDFATHER was a Death Dealer. He died defending the people of Apollo during a Cheesehead attack. My grandmother was a hero of the same resistance against the Cheeseheads. I COME FROM A LONG LINE OF HEROES YOU BITCH!”

As I move to cut the bitch’s head Wilder stops me once more. “Hold Corporal. We still need to know who put her up to this travesty of science.”

“Trent you got ten seconds to tell me exactly who put you up to this farce.” I ground out between clenched teeth. “After that if I don’t like what I’m hearing. You’re a dead fracking bitch.”

“I was told that there was no way you could prove your rightful claim as Head of Clan by the Royal Herald. I only changed the source and genetic coding after I found this out. I had to do it. Don’t you see? You’re the true Wallace. We’ve wondered for too long. We need our Head of Clan. We must return home, Lord Owens.” The more I heard of Trent’s reasoning the more I realized what was going on.

I sighed as I realized exactly what Maiha had warned me about during our conversations while traveling to Seth. “Colonel Wilder I think I know what is going on. Sadly, I believe that Doctor Trent has been used. Someone in the High Families has gone out of their way to insure that I don’t return to Apollo six at the Head of an army of Bloodline Warriors.”

“Oh, Sweat Mother of God! Who in their right mind would go to such lengths?” Wilder asked in pure shock. “And how the hell would you be able to command an army of Bloodline Warriors? They’ve been lost to time.”

“The Owens Clan has not been lost to time. We still respect our traditions. Our Clan Warriors will reclaim our home.” Trent started ranting. Not realizing that she had just reviled one of the greatest secretes in the Empire.

I didn’t have to kill her. Her own words would send her to the deepest darkest hole in the Empire. Once there she would suffer the greatest torments of Hell before her captors stuffed her into that hole. Then they would fill that hole in with her at the bottom of it. There would be no mercy for this woman. Wilder turned to look Trent in the eyes. “Trent exactly what did the Herald say?”

“That only a pure-blooded heir could lay claim to the Head of Clan for the Owens.” Trent explained. “That the rest of the High Families would dispute any claim other than one that came from the Empress Maiha’s direct family.”

Something that Trent said tickled the back of my mind. “Doctor Trent what were the exact words. Please don’t paraphrase the Herald.”

“He said something that sounded like. Ní féidir ach an Wallace a bheith mar Cheannasaí an Chlann. He said that it translated to something about the Head of the Clan has to be a pure-blooded Owens.” Trent answered honestly.

“Oh, for the love of the Goddess! You ignorant bitch! You never paid attention your, in Gaelic class, did you? Even with being raised in the Clan you have no fracking idea of the language and traditions of our people. I pray that the rest of the Owens Clan aren’t as ignorant as you.” I screamed. “Even I know more about the Irish and Scottish traditions of our people.”

“What does that mean Corporal?” Wilder asked me.

“The ignorant bitch let some outsider translate the warning. The correct translation for ‘Ní féidir ach an Wallace a bheith mar Cheannasaí an Chlann.’ Is nowhere near what she was told. The correct translation is ‘Only the Wallace can be the true Clan's Headman.” I sighed as I looked down at stunned and demoralized Doctor Trent. I realized exactly what she had done and why. “Doctor Trent is innocent of treason. She is only guilty of being a fool. That and trying to save her Clan.”

“What are you talking about Corporal? First you accuse her of stealing those codes. Then you proved it. How can she not be guilty of High Treason?” Wilder grunted.

“Sir, the answer is simple. The Herald gave Doctor Trent the codes to use. Whoever he really was the man wasn’t a Royal Herald.” I explained. “Someone is using Doctor Trent as their patsy. Someone within the High Families with access to both the Death Dealer AI database and the High Families database.”

“Oh shit. Not good. If what you’re suggesting is only half true. Then we have a major problem. One that could have far reaching consequences.” Wilder grunted. “Doctor Trent do you remember which Herald gave you those codes?”

“Yes, sir. It was Herald Armitage for the Vanderbilt Family. He even handed me the codes personally. Why?” Trent asked hoping that her cooperation would spare her life. She knew that she would face some punishment. She just hoped that it wasn’t the death penalty. She could live with life in prison for betraying the Empire. “What is going to happen to me, Colonel?”

“Pack your bags, Doctor Trent. I suggest you pack for the cold. From what I understand Ice Station Zebra never sees temperatures above freezing.” Wilder chuckled. “I suggest you download and brush up on your Inuit language.”

“Why?” Trent asked in confusion.

“Because that is the local language spoken on New Greenland.” I snapped. “I hope you enjoy freezing your ass off.”

-----tbc-----