“What would you like to know?”
“All of it.”
Jarcor wanted to sigh, instead he complied. Telling General Brown his story, summarizing where possible, highlighting the more important facts and when he was finally done, he was able to see the general didn’t look very happy.
“How many of you are there?” he finally asked, in a stern tone.
“As far as I know, I’m the only one, Sir. They wanted to see if it would be faster to transform soldiers into cyborgs rather than breeding them,” he explained, allowing his tone to show precisely what he thought about that idea.
“Have they reached a conclusion?”
“I don’t think so. This is the first time I’ll be on an actual battlefield since my transformation,” he replied, honestly. He saw no point in lying to the man.
“I see. Did you agree with all this? Losing your human condition and being degraded to a simple soldier?”
“They gave me some papers, rushing me to sign them. According to them all that information was written in them,” he explained. “However, I was in a lot of pain, in no fit state to study the papers and all I wanted was for them to fix my wounded legs. I assure you it was my mistake that I didn’t stop to read any papers.”
“Indeed, well, Jarcor, we surely can use your experience out there. The soldiers they’ve been sending me have no idea how to act in the middle of a battle and we’ve had way too many wounded in the past few months,” he said, in a dispassionate tone. It was obvious he wasn’t going to comment on what his superiors had done to Jarcor, but it would warn him and others like him not to make the same mistake Jarcor had.
“I’ll do my best, Sir.”
General Brown nodded standing up to guide Jarcor out. “I’ll introduce you to the unit you’ll be leading into the battlefield, as soon as possible.”
Like General Brown had said, the cyborgs he introduced him too appeared to be younger than the average cyborg and seemed to be clueless as what to do with the heavy guns they were carrying.
Jarcor took a deep breath before giving them a few instructions, telling them how to act as a group, protecting each other from enemy forces. “In case of doubt, ask,” he concluded. “The general idea is to kill as many enemies as possible and return in one piece. Protect yourself and protect those around you. Work as a team and you might get out of this alive and well.”
The men nodded, and he smiled, pleased. “Try to emulate what I do on the battlefield and feel free to act as your instincts tell you to.”
With those last words, he guided his men into the battlefield. The Taucets preferred fighting on foot and their senses seemed to be a lot more accurate than those of humans or even cyborgs but from what Jarcor was able to see, they were lousy warriors.
After his first week on the front line, Jarcor was convinced the Taucets used to win their battles based on the vast number of fighters they had rather than any other tactic. He believed they hadn't expected to find well-prepared armies willing to fight them, but they didn’t seem to be willing to surrender.
Nor would the humans. They weren’t willing to deliver their planet on a silver platter to the alien invaders.
After an intense week fighting on the battlefields, Jarcor finally had some free time, to dedicate it to himself. He managed to get access to a computer and working as fast as he could, he finished working on the private communication channel between all cyborgs.
He hid the channel and made it imperceptible to the humans, encrypting it on the off chance they managed to find it. He wanted a channel all cyborgs could use without fear of being caught.
He decided to try it with one of the guys in his unit, eager to see if it worked as planned.
“Johlan, can you hear me?” he asked, in an excited tone.
“Jarcor? Is that you? This is a new channel. How the hell did you get access to it?” he asked, surprised.
Jarcor smiled, pleased and opened the conversation to all the cyborgs within a mile. “I’ve created this channel. It’s a secure channel, just for cyborgs. It leaves no trace and no records. Humans don’t know about its existence and even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to crack my defenses.”
From the other side of the line, he heard the cheers of happiness of the other cyborgs. “This is great, Jarcor. We sure need a private channel,” Johlan said, sounding as excited as he was.
“I’m working on a few other apps to store private information I’ll send to you through this channel,” he added. “But I need you guys to transmit it to all cyborgs you can reach.”
“Sure thing. Keep up the good work,” someone else said.
“You can also have private conversations by just naming the person you want to talk to. A private sub-channel is immediately created and when you’re done talking, it’s erased. It won’t leave any records or trace of the conversation,” he explained.
“That’s perfect.” Some of the men cheered.
“I’ll let you know when I have other information to share,” he ended the conversation and relaxed in his chair.
He erased all he had been working on and went back to his quarters. He had been planning his escape, but his instincts told him it wasn’t the right moment. He had to wait a bit longer until he had his recorder ready to activate even when he was unconscious. Otherwise, escape would be futile.
“Johlan, one question,” he called out the other cyborg.
“What’s up?”
“Do you have any idea where the main control panel is located? You know, through where humans access our circuitry.”
“It’s hidden in your thorax, right under your armpit, but you need to cut open your skin to gain access to it,” Johlan explained. “And we’re programmed to avoid the area. There’s no way we can cut it open ourselves, though we wouldn’t be able to do anything without the main codes.”
“I see. I’m sure breaking into that program won’t be easy, but either way, we need to get those codes.”
“Good luck with that.” There was so much disbelief on the other man’s tone, Jarcor couldn’t help laughing.
“I’ve faced harder challenges.”
“I’m sure of it.”