Jarmen's Jane Doe

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Hidden Lab

On the moon of Ala’mont

“Destroy everything,” General Cerberus Teivel ordered in a loud, commanding voice above the sound of laser fire and alarms.

Jarmen D’ju was conscious enough to sense the deep wave of panic sweeping through the room even before Cerberus came charging into the laboratory. The cold rage in the Draka Commander’s voice jerked him out of the haze of pain clouding his mind. The Draka seldom showed emotion, but when he did, it was anger… and usually directed at Jarmen.

“What about the subjects?” a harried scientist asked.

“The General said everything must be destroyed. No survivors,” another scientist replied in a terse voice.

Strapped to a metal frame in the center of the room, Jarmen kept his head lowered and eyes closed so the men would not notice that he was conscious and aware of their conversation. The two subjects next to him did not react either, but Jarmen was certain this was because they were not conscious. They were newer units, not yet completed, and still retained a portion of their memories and emotions, making them unpredictable.

The distant sound of laser fire could barely be heard above the frenzied destruction in the room. Jarmen turned his head to watch Cerberus walk past the line of men sealed in cryo-cylinders to the emergency control box.

The scientists called him Commander Sama’el, the Angel of Death. Jarmen simply referred to him by his species name—Draka, adding enough derision when he said it to make it sound like an insult. It was a small act of defiance, but knowing that the man detested it gave him satisfaction.

The expansive complex had been constructed where a meteor impacted a millennium ago. The full lab and surgical center contained a multitude of computers and medical equipment. There were currently less than a dozen test subjects left in the complex. The failed specimens were disposed of as quickly as possible in another section of the lab.

Smoke filled the room as more and more equipment was hastily destroyed. Jarmen dispassionately watched Cerberus pull open the protective clear lid on the small metal box attached to the wall and press the red button inside. Every cryo-cylinder began filling with a dark red acid.

When their flesh began to dissolve, the men in the cylinders woke and struggled against their restraints. Their organic casing disappeared, revealing the adamantium frame beneath, which continued to move.

Their brains, semi-protected by their skull, kept their basic systems operational—until Cerberus shut off their access to electricity. One by one, Jarmen documented the light fading from their eyes.

In the chaos, a lab tech ran into a nearby scientist, knocking him against Jarmen. The man recoiled from the contact, but not before Jarmen stole the key card attached to his jacket.

Connecting with the mainframe through the key card access chip, Jarmen downloaded as much information as he could before it shut down. His eyes glowed as he processed the data.

The sound of laser fire was growing closer. Scientists began rushing through the emergency exit at the far end of the room behind him.

There was no need for Jarmen to turn his head now. The room’s vidcom system recorded them, which meant Jarmen saw everything that was happening on the base… including what… or he should say who… had sent everyone into a panic.

He did turn his head to monitor Cerberus as he approached with a laser short-sword in his hand. Cerberus paused in front of the unit next to Jarmen and raised the glowing sword. Both units were awake now, and they desperately struggled against their restraints.

“Please, let us go!” Unit 558 begged.

“I think not,” Cerberus coolly replied.

“No!” Unit 558 screamed.

The smell of burning flesh made nearby scientists gag. One turned away with a look of horror as Unit 558’s head hit the stone floor and rolled under a nearby console.

Unit 624 struggled more frantically. Guttural curses and promises of retribution filled the air.

Jarmen could have informed Unit 624 that threats, struggling, and begging would not result in a different outcome. The order was ‘no survivors’, none—including the scientists who thought they were escaping through the long tunnel behind him.

The other end of that tunnel had already been sealed. Once inside, the scientists would be trapped, and a series of lasers would terminate their lives. Already, he could hear panicked cries for someone to open the door at the other end.

Cerberus dispatched Unit 624 with a clean slice, severing the man’s head from the rest of his body. Unit 624’s head hadn’t even hit the floor before Cerberus turned his pale gray eyes to sweep over Jarmen with a grim promise. He was given a brief reprieve from death, however, when Cerberus's attention was caught by the last scientist entering the tunnel. The Draka General’s lips curved into a s******c sneer as he lifted the laser pistol in his other hand and focused his attention on the control panel of the tunnel’s door.

Cerberus fired a single shot, a direct hit. The tunnel’s thick steel door rapidly closed. Now there was just Cerberus, Jarmen, and the invading forces remaining on the moon base.

Jarmen twisted his stolen key card between his fingers. He slid the card down until he was holding it by the edge and extended the key as far as he could. The sensor embedded in the card chimed, unlocking his wrist restraints. The faint alert was masked by the noise of the steel door closing and the sounds of battle just outside the room.

Cerberus, unaware of Jarmen’s sudden freedom, faced him again. The Draka’s lips curled with anticipated satisfaction.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

A grim contentment filtered through Jarmen. Cerberus was about to encounter the monster he had created.

The Draka swung his sword, only to freeze in shock when his assault was halted in midair. Jarmen gripped the man’s wrist, the movement tearing wires out of his left arm. The sword’s swing was halted inches from Jarmen’s neck.

“No… you will not,” Jarmen said.

Cerberus paused in surprise. The hesitation was a mistake the Draka would regret. Jarmen snapped his captor’s wrist with a powerful twist of his hand. He caught the short laser sword as it fell from Cerberus’s limp fingers.

“You are a monster who must be destroyed,” Cerberus hissed, his face contorted with pain.

“Not by you,” he stated in an unemotional voice.

Cerberus raised his pistol. Jarmen twirled the sword, slicing through the flesh and bone of Cerberus’s forearm before he could fire. The Draka General’s face paled until it was the same color as his ash-white dreadlocks, and he sank to his knees.

Jarmen swung the sword again, detaching Cerberus’s head from his body the same way the man had dispatched the two Units next to him. Seconds later, the first raiders of the facility entered the lab.

Jarmen did not look up. His life was about to be terminated, and he accepted this outcome. Already, he could feel his body shutting down.

“Lord Jazin! There is still one alive,” a man shouted.

Jarmen looked dispassionately at the cables still attached to his other arm, legs, and back. The sound of boots against the stone floor were of no interest to him.

When a pair of boots stopped in front of him, Jarmen felt faintly curious about the man who would kill him. He slowly looked up into a pair of brilliant silver eyes that conveyed horror and compassion. The horror was something Jarmen understood, but the compassion….

Jarmen offered his sword to the man.

“You may dispatch me now. I… will not resist,” he said, his voice slurring on the last few words.

Jazin slowly reached out and took the sword. He then turned the sword’s power off and set it aside. Jarmen frowned.

“Do you have a name?” Jazin asked.

Jarmen tilted his head. “I… call myself… Jarmen D’ju.”

“The same Jarmen D’ju from Tales of Two Galaxies?”

“Yes.”

“That is one of my favorite books,” Jazin stated, stepping closer.

Jarmen watched in puzzlement as Jazin disconnected him. His legs gave out when the strap holding him to the metal frame was removed.

Jazin wound his arm around him and lowered him to the floor. Another man hurried over and knelt next to them.

“This is Shavic. He is a healer,” Jazin explained.

Shavic did not resemble the healers Jarmen was familiar with. His hands were gentle, and his eyes were kind.

Jarmen gripped Jazin’s wrist, turning his head to look at him. “It would… be best for you… to terminate me now.”

Jazin smiled sadly and shook his head. “I didn’t come all this way to kill you, my friend.”

Confusion once again poured through Jarmen, and he frowned. Shavic murmured that it was imperative that they transport him to the warship.

Jarmen needed to shut down. His mind and body were damaged from the experiments the scientists had been conducting and he needed time to repair—but there was a question he needed answered first.

“Jarmen… was… a monster—but… your… favorite?” he asked, forcing his eyes open.

Jazin gripped his hand and shook his head. “Jarmen was a hero who saved the galaxy.”

Jarmen processed this. “People feared… him,” he challenged.

“Suzanne loved him,” Jazin gently pointed out.

Jarmen thought about that for a moment before he pulled his gaze away and stared up at the ceiling.

“It… is a good… story,” he replied before closing his eyes and shutting down.

* * *

Ten hours later he woke with the strange sensation of feeling… refreshed. He took a few seconds to assess his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was that the room was dimly lit.

There was no bright light bouncing off every surface as there had been in the lab on Ala’mont. The light here was a comfortable and faintly warm color. The walls and ceiling were a non-reflective gray.

The platform beneath him was soft. Everything felt… foreign. Curling his fingers, he assessed the material covering him. He was loosely enfolded in fabric, one flat beneath him, and one flat above him. They were not bindings. He slowly sat up, marveling that he was unrestricted.

He immediately accessed the computer system to ascertain what he was up against. The information he received was surprising. This was not a research ship. It was a warship.

Jazin was the third son of Ajaska Ja Kel Coradon. Ajaska had passed control of his House to his eldest son, Torak. Information about the House of Kassis and their position within the Alliance flowed through Jarmen’s mind as fast as the computer could upload it.

He found no immediate threat. What he did find was an emotion: confusion. Why would a member of the Kassis royal family expend so many resources to free him?

The chime of the door alerted him that he was no longer alone. The healer from earlier stepped around the partition and paused, looking at him with a quiet, assessing expression. Jarmen tensed, his mind documenting every detail of the man’s life contained in the ship’s database. There was nothing in the man’s past—at least according to the information stored in the ship’s computer—to cause alarm. He studied the items the healer was holding.

“I see you are finally awake. It is good that you were able to get some rest,” Shavic greeted.

Jarmen kept his eyes on the healer as he slowly approached. Shavic held out the pile of folded clothing, along with a pair of black boots. Jarmen reached out and accepted the unexpected gift.

“These are for you,” the healer said.

His mind processed the information he received from the sensors embedded in his fingertips. In one hand: organic material, dye, pre-washed—the purpose of which was to make them soft.

In the other hand: supple, strong organic material; sewn; constructed; laced—the purpose of which was protection and comfort.

He curled his fingers in the fabric. It had been a long time since he had been permitted to wear clothing. None of the Units had been allowed such a luxury. It only impeded the scientists’ experiments.

“I’ll wait for you in the other room while you dress. Lord Jazin would like to see you,” Shavic stated.

Jarmen nodded. He heard the healer pause, and then leave, the door sliding shut behind him.

It was quiet. The absence of speaking, screaming, and beeping was disorienting. The unfamiliar silence was only highlighted by the faint hum of the ship.

He placed the clothing on the bed and carefully dressed. He took his time, enjoying the sensation of the soft material against his skin. Picking up the long-sleeve shirt, he slid his arms into the sleeves and fastened it before pulling on the black matching undergarments and trousers. The clothing was a perfect fit.

Next, he pulled on a pair of socks. He stared at his feet, wiggling his toes that were concealed under the thick, soft material. He couldn’t recall the last time he had worn shoes, much less socks. He bent and slid the boots on. He rocked back and forth from heel to toe, testing the fit and comfort. It was as if the boots had been made specifically for his feet.

Straightening, he glanced around the room again. It was clearly a part of the medical wing, but there was nothing here that felt threatening. He returned his attention to the door by which Shavic had entered and exited. The faint noise of a boot heel against the floor caused him look down. This time, the sound came from him!

He adjusted his gait and took several practice steps, walking around the room until he felt confident that he made no sound when he moved. Satisfied, he exited the room.

Shavic gave him a critical once-over, and then smiled. Jarmen did not mimic this facial expression, and the healer’s smile slowly faded.

“Yes, well, let’s get you to the officers’ room,” Shavic said.

Jarmen followed Shavic out of the medical unit. They turned left and walked along a wide, brightly lit corridor. He ignored the curious gazes of the Kassisan crewmembers as they walked.

They paused and waited for the lift. The doors opened to reveal several crewmembers. Their laughter faded when they saw him and their expressions became guarded. Shavic waved them out with a growl before he stepped inside and turned.

“What is he?” one of the men muttered, looking over his shoulder.

“Did you see the way his eyes glowed?” another whispered.

The closing doors cut off the rest of their comments.

“Ignore them,” Shavic said.

Jarmen focused on the changing lights. They were going to Level 5 where the bridge was located. He pulled up the ship’s map in his mind.

“This way,” Shavic stated when the doors opened.

Jarmen was already turning to the right as Shavic spoke. Crewmembers stepped aside as they passed.

A scene from Tales of Two Galaxies flickered through his mind.

I stare into the eyes of the men and women who watch me walk by and I see the horror, fear, and pity in their eyes. I can live with the horror. I can relish their fear. It is the pity that I find abhorrent and wish I could erase from my memory….

Shavic motioned for him to enter another room. Jarmen stepped through the doorway and paused, uncertain of what was expected of him.

“Jarmen, come in.”

Jazin’s voice held a note of warmth. Shavic’s voice could be characterized similarly, which was something Jarmen had not processed until now. The categorization of ‘healer’ had added a delay.

Jarmen remained where he was, wondering if this was a new test that his captors had created. He looked at the table. The aroma of food tantalized his senses. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He placed his hand on his stomach when he felt it growl. It was—an unusual discomfort.

Jazin handed him a translucent crystal goblet filled with a golden liquid. Jarmen accepted it, and they stood staring at each other for several seconds before Jazin smiled and lifted his drink.

“A toast to freedom,” Jazin said.

Jarmen mirrored Jazin’s movement, and Jazin tapped their goblets gently before taking a sip and turning away. Jarmen pulled his attention from the man’s back and studied his own raised glass.

The Kassisans were most famous for a specific crystal that was abundant on their planet. Many of their creations were made from it, including this goblet. The Kassisan Crystal provided not only building material but energy, and this vast resource gave the Kassisans an edge in technology advancement.

Slowly, analyzing each move, Jarmen lifted the goblet to his lips and drank the liquid it contained. Soothing heat filled his mouth and rushed down his throat to his growling stomach. A myriad of flavors washed over his enhanced taste buds. Savory bits of fruit and grain. It was Kassisan liquor, fermented and aged.

“Why are you… doing this? Why am I here?” Jarmen asked, lowering the goblet, and walking across the room to stand next to Jazin.

Jazin turned away from the view of space and gently rested his hand on Jarmen’s shoulder. “Do you remember Keff?” he asked.

Jarmen nodded. “Keff saw Jarmen D’ju… as a man, not a monster. He was a friend to Jarmen in Tales of Two Galaxies, the only one Jarmen trusted besides Suzanne. But, your name is not Keff. You are Jazin Ja Kel Coradon, third son of Ajaska Ja Kel Coradon, and ruler of the Third House of Kassis.”

Jazin laughed. “Yes, that is who I am—and I’m also your friend.”

Jarmen frowned as he processed what Jazin was telling him. He looked down at the glass in his hand, then touched the clothes he was wearing before he looked back at the man who was waiting for him to respond.

“You… are my Keff,” he finally replied.

Jazin nodded. “Yes… I am your Keff,” he agreed.