Supernova Reborn

A deafening boom reverberating off the walls of the surrounding buildings was the only warning she had. The searing pain that followed faded blissfully to black almost immediately.

She awoke to a faint whirring sound in her left ear. Something beyond her made a whoosh-thump that matched the pattern of her breaths while a high-pitched sound beeped in rhythm with her heart. She tried to recall where she was or what had happened, but she couldn’t even remember her name.

It took a great deal of concentration to open her eyes. She immediately wished she hadn’t. Her right eye blinked several times before she could make out anything in the dim room. Her left eye zoomed frantically in and out of focus, similar to adjusting a microscope to view bacteria on a slide, except there was a faint but audible click with each movement. The beeping increased as she began to panic.

A door opened, and a Parashtee wearing the light green robes of the medical profession rushed in. He adjusted something on machine connected to a tube inserted into her arm. Everything went fuzzy, and she drifted off to sleep.

She was more prepared for the strange visual inconsistencies when she awoke again. A Goblarian standing on a rolling platform that could rise to allow him to view her from above was having a conversation with the Parashtee and another medic of Pajaraden descent. He peered at her, steel goggles moving in and out, before zipping out of the room. The Pajaraden checked her vitals, then followed the Goblarian.

The Parashtee smiled at her. “I'm sure you are understandably confused. You’ve suffered a devastating injury, but the medics say your chance of survival has greatly improved. Can you speak?”

It took her several attempts to rasp out, “Yes.”

“Good. Can you tell me your name and birthdate?” he asked gently.

Her mouth moved as she searched through her mind trying to find the answers that continued to evade her. “N...no,” she finally replied.

“Don't worry about it. Amnesia can be a side effect of the damage to your head.” He picked up her chart and flipped through a few pages. “You must not have had any id on you, or the explosion destroyed it. All we have here is an identification number - CT12170618.”

She tried and failed to push herself up. Her body didn't want to respond properly. Nothing felt right. The beeping increased with her heart rate.

He placed his hands on her shoulder. “Please. Calm yourself, or I’ll have to sedate you again.”

She took a few deep breaths before she noticed the whoosh-thump no longer accompanied them.

“My name is Malakai. I will be your primary caregiver until you have recovered enough to go to training.”

“Training?” she croaked out.

“Yes,” Malakai responded. “We weren't able to save your legs or your left arm. Your left eye as well. Circuitry has been implanted in your brain to assist in control over the cybertronic devices. You will need to learn how to use them properly.”

She shakily raised her arms. The right one was pale and covered with the thin lines of recently healed wounds. The left was sleek, cold metal up to her shoulder with pivoting joints. She concentrated on the hand until the fingers flexed.

“Good for you. Most patients in your situation wouldn't learn that sort of control so quickly.” Malakai said, smiling encouragingly.

She looked at her lap, but a blanket covered her legs. Malakai saw her staring at the thin lumps and pulled back the cloth. Her new legs looked similar in design to the cybertronic arm, but the feet flexed oddly and lacked discernable toes. The left leg was attached at her hip, while the right started just above the knee. Her scarred, nearly white thigh was thicker than the metal leg, giving her an odd appearance.

“How do they detach?” She asked once she could find the words. “Will I have a hover chair available if I choose not to wear them?”

“Ah, well, they are permanently attached. They can be surgically removed and replaced if one becomes faulty.” Malakai explained with an apologetic expression.

She might not remember who she was, but it angered her that she’d been given no choice in how she chose to live her life.

“Are you ready to see your face?” he asked, interrupting what felt like a rant wanting to erupt.

At her nod, he held up a mirror. One jewel-like purple eye peered out from a shock of black, feathery hair. Her nose and mouth appeared undamaged. A metal plate covered the upper left quarter of her face with an adjustable lens where her eye had been.

Even without the implants, gazing at her face brought no recollection of who she was. Had she always been that pale, or was it something to do with her recovery?

Her breath hitched as tears ran down the right side of her face. Had it been worth the medics turning her into some monstrosity? Would she have been better off dead?

Malakai removed the mirror and took her fully fleshed hand in his. “I know. It isn't easy to see it initially. It will take some time to get used to the changes, but you are strong.”

She was despondent for several days as she processed everything. Malakai worked with her every day to control her new limbs. She had to learn to walk all over again. Understanding how to balance was the hardest part. There were many days she spent falling more than walking, but Malakai was there with encouraging words. By the time she was running laps, she had grudgingly decided that she was happy to be alive.

Her training also included several psychological evaluations and a battery of intellectual tests that left her emotionally drained.

She was surprised when a man in dark business robes came to speak with her about a job. He told her the company he worked for preferred hiring people with similar handicaps. Seeing as she had no idea how she would support herself after leaving the hospital, she readily accepted his offer.

***

CT12170618 lay on her stomach in the shadows on the rooftop peering through the scope of her laser rifle at the traffic below. Her instructions were to eliminate the Kerastian ambassador. She waited patiently for the sleek, heavily guarded airship to arrive. The security escort wouldn't help her. By the time they realized the ambassador was dead, she would be long gone, a ghost among the towering structures of Senathria. Her cybertronic limbs gave her the strength and grip to scale the walls. The design of the feet flexed almost like an actual foot, giving her added agility.

The entire planet was one vast city. The buildings were stacked nearly on top of each other, with very little green space. Aside from a handful of rooftop gardens, the only green spaces were in parks exclusively found in upper-class districts. The slums were lucky to have running water. Trees were nonexistent.

The inhabitants relegated to traveling on the planet’s surface were the poorest of the poor. Most people walked wherever they needed to go unless they were transporting goods. Those were pulled or pushed by hand on carts that often threatened to tip over on the heavily rutted streets.

The other classes each had their own level of traffic, hovering well above the ground. The upper class had the loftiest lanes, leaving almost no chance of a stalled vehicle falling on them. There were always a few bored rich kids raced their opulent cruisers in the open air above the city. This often resulted in spectacular crashes.

Luckily the ambassador traveled among the government and corporate moguls. CT12170618 wouldn't have to avoid hitting some poor working-class bloke driving home to his dinner. Not that she would ever miss. Her cyber eye kept her aim too accurate for mistakes.

When CT12170618 first took the job, she hoped to afford a small apartment eventually. She hadn't expected housing in a barracks with five others who had suffered similar injuries. While it made her feel less like an oddity, it also left her lonely. There was no camaraderie among them. In fact, they rarely spoke to one another. When the others were at their quarters, it was like they shut down, often sitting in their rooms with blank stares. What concerned her most was that none of them had a name. They went by a designation much like her own. It was as if none of them really existed.

Sometimes CT12170618 experienced time loss but often found herself thinking about everything that had happened over the years since her accident. She still wondered who she was or if she had friends or family missing her. When she dwelled too much on her line of work, she would feel an odd sense of numbness. She couldn't bring herself to care even though somewhere deep in the back of her brain, she knew it was wrong.

CT12170618 took a calming breath as the ambassador’s vehicle came into sight. She flexed her finger slightly before resting it on the trigger as she locked on to the woman in red governmental robes. She began to apply pressure on the trigger.

“Please reset your password.” The phrase flashed through her mind.

“What the hell?” CT12170618 whispered as she tried to complete her mission. The ambassador’s air car had moved far enough that she was no longer in the scope. CT12170618 attempted to correct her aim, but her cyber system wouldn't respond.

“Please reset your password.”

CT12170618 closed her eye in frustration as the ambassador left her range. She wasn't aware of there being a password for her system. She didn't know how to reset it.

“Please reset your password.” It was now blinking insistently. She concentrated on the words until a blank field appeared.

Unable to think of anything else, she let her mind type CT12170618 into the field. Her mind instantly went blank.

She had no idea how long she had been lying on that rooftop before she slowly came back to awareness. She shot up with a gasp as everything she had forgotten flooded back. Her mother’s kiss on her cheek every day as she left for work. Her father worked far harder than he should have to provide for them. Her brothers and sisters. How old would they be now? Surely all but the youngest would be serving in the military by then. Her older brother should be out unless he’d chosen to continue his service.

She’d had about three years left in her mandatory service when her accident happened. No. Not an accident. Her team had been searching for an anti-government terrorist cell when the explosion ripped through the street from the warehouse they were entering. Had anyone else survived?

A sob burst from her, carried off with the wind and noise of the traffic below. “Celestia! My name is Celestia Taveras.” she cried.

Celestia sat in the darkness, trying to process everything until what little flesh she had left was shivering with emotion and cold. She eventually rose to her feet. Should she return to her barracks? Should she go home? Would her family accept her as she was? They likely thought Celestia had died in that blast. Would it be better for her to move on rather than bring her family more grief?

A faint click followed by a movement just out of her range of sight had her taking a defensive pose. Celestia slid the night vision filter over her cyber lens. A cloaked figure stood near the door leading into the building. They slowly lifted their hands to show they weren't armed. Celestia hesitated, not believing that to be true.

“CT12170618, please. I want to help you,” a familiar male voice said.

“That is not my name,” she replied.

His hands continued to move toward his head, pulling the hood back to reveal his face. “Good. Then the sleeper code worked.”

“Malakai?” she gasped. “How? What is going on?”

“If you come with me, I will explain everything.” When she hesitated, he continued. “I understand why you don't trust me. That’s part of your programming. I promise I mean you no harm.”

Malakai had been so kind during her recovery. Celestia inched forward with her laser rifle trained on him until she reached his side. Malakai smiled and gently pushed the gun downward to point to the ground.

Celestia felt exhausted from the onslaught of emotions she hadn't been allowed to feel for the last five years. She let Malakai to lead her into the building and down to the ground floor. They slunk through the streets, eventually reaching a home in the heart of the slums.

Several people glanced up from computer consoles as they walked through a dim room. Malakai showed her into a subterranean chamber.

“What can I call you?” he asked as he slung his cloak over the back of a plush armchair.

She slowly sank onto a cozy couch. “Celestia Taveras.”

Malakai smiled. “Celestia. That is a beautiful name.”

“How do you have all of this in the slums?” she asked.

“What better place to hide? No one comes here if they don't have to, and there is an abundance of wily children willing to run errands and learn from us,” he replied. “We are working against the government to help the people of Senathria.”

Celestia started. “You...” She touched the metal plate on her face. “The explosion.”

“No. That wasn't us. We don't work like that. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that weren’t someone within the government itself.” Malakai assured her. “We plan more subtle attacks. Some require several years of preparation, like our work with the cyborgs.”

Celestia wanted to ask why the government would send their military in to search for an explosive they had set, but another thought took precedence. “You created us?”

Again, he shook his head. “We have infiltrated the medical facility where they perform the procedure. We haven't closed it down because they are saving lives there. Most of the medics are just that - medics with no affiliations to the mafia or the government. None of you would have survived the extent of your injuries without the implants.” Malakai let that sink in before continuing. “The Slothiarian mafia runs the cyborg processing center, but the Senathrian government heavily funds it.”

“Why would the government be mixed up with the mafia?” Celestia asked.

Malakai leaned forward. “I know the implants blocked your memories in your brain, and it's only just returned, but think back. How well are they running things here?”

Celestia thought about the daily governmental messages broadcast over personal devices and digital billboards throughout the city. Always spoken in joyful gentle voices, their purpose was to reassure the Senarthians that their lives were exactly the way they should be.

Every child was required to join the military at eighteen and serve for ten years. There was no exception for those who weren't physically capable of serving. The weak were culled at birth, if not before. It was for the best. Their lives would be far too difficult. Her mother had lost a baby to that mandate when Celestia was seven. She hadn't understood why the hospital had taken her brother away. Her mother had cried for months.

She could see why the mafia and the government could work together to ensure certain politicians remained in power. But why would they go to so much effort to save her life when it would have been cheaper to let her die? And why would they have planted the bomb that nearly took her life, to begin with?

Malakai must have known what she was going to ask before the words left her mouth. He answered her with a question of his own. “What work do they have you doing for them?”

“I’m an assassin,” she whispered, feeling the shame that the implants had always blocked before.

“I would wager all of your victims were people challenging the Senathrian government in some way, either internally or off planet,” he said.

“I...I don't know. I’m not even sure where my instructions came from.” Celestia said. “It's almost like I’d wake up with all the details in my head.”

Malakai tapped his head. “They control your mind through the implants. They cause you to blindly obey. If you fight back too much, they can shut you down entirely. The surgeons we have in place at the hospital have been including the chip that allowed us to utilize the sleeper code, effectively shutting down their control.”

Celestia’s heart began thumping in dread. “Can I have the implants removed?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “As I explained, when you awoke after your injury, they allow you to control your eye and limbs, among other natural processes. Removing the implants would kill you.”

“Would leaving them in allow you to take over my free will?” she asked.

Malakai looked uncomfortable. “Technically speaking? Yes. But we would never do that.”

“How did you even find me up there?” she pushed.

“We can track you through the chip,” he admitted.

Celestia fought the urge to get up and run. “Can the government regain control of implants?”

“No. We’ve deleted their original programming.” He shifted in his chair. “Well, as long as they didn't save a backup copy.”

“What can I do to avoid anyone from taking me over?” she asked.

Malakai looked like he didn't want to answer that, which did nothing to dispel her fear. “We don't have control of your brain, but for any programming, there is a limit to how far the transmitter will work. You would have to leave the planet to be safe.”

Celestria stood up and paced the room nervously. Could she walk away from everything she’d ever known? Senathria certainly wasn't an easy place to live. Her family wouldn't miss her more than they already did if they thought she was dead. Could she stay with the fear of mind control looming over her?

“Excuse me. I need to speak to the agents who went to collect your counterparts.” Malakai said as he rose. “Please stay until I return. I promise you are safe.”

Although Celestia wanted to run, there was something about Malakai that made her trust him. She stopped pacing and took a few deep breaths. Celestia sat down in the armchair to wait.

Shortly after Malakai left, there was a knock on the door. A teenage boy poked his head into the room. When Celestia didn't move, he inched into the room. The boy looked like he wasn't sure what to make of her. There weren't that many cyborgs on Senathria. He left a tray of food on a small table across the room and fled.

Malakai seemed unhappy when he returned a couple of hours later. He rubbed his hands over his face, massaging the ridges on his forehead in the process. “We knew there were risks when we put the chips in place. Still, it pains me to tell you one of your barracks mates didn't survive the reboot. He suffered a stroke. Another has gone into a catatonic state.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, but I barely knew them,” Celestia said. She sighed. “I don't mean to sound heartless.”

“You’ve had a lot to deal with,” he replied. “I can't tell you how happy I am that you survived. You’ve always been strong, so I’m not surprised.”

Celestia couldn't quite put her finger on what it was about the way he was watching her, but his expression gave her the feeling that Malakai would have been genuinely distraught if she hadn't survived the reboot. It made her feel like they could truly be friends. Still, she had to ask, “If I choose to leave Senathria, how would I do it without being detected by the government or the Slothians?”

Malakai sighed, “It may take a few weeks, but I can find safe transport if that’s what you want to do. Do you have any idea where you’d want to go?”

She shook her head. “I never thought I’d have the opportunity to leave here.”

He opened his palm tablet and projected an image of the galaxy above them. “I would steer clear of Morra. The criminal factions there have an even stronger grip on that planet than they do here.”

“No. I wouldn't want that. Although, it might be easier to hide there.” Celestia replied.

“You are Elaysian, correct?” Malakai asked.

“Yes. Well, I’m mostly Elaysian. My father has suggested we may have a few different species in our bloodline, but no one has researched it.” she said.

He watched her for a moment while she lost herself in another memory of time spent with her father. “Why not go to Elaysia? They are sparsely populated, and their government is a cooperative one. The people help each other, and the leaders are there more for diplomatic purposes.”

“Would they accept me like this?” she asked self-consciously. “Will anyone?”

Malakai stood up and walked over to her. He lifted her chin and looked into her eye. “There is nothing wrong with you, Celestia. You are beautiful and strong, and intelligent. Any planet in the galaxy would be lucky to have you living there.”

Celestia turned her gaze away from his face and looked down. “I don't know how to do anything but kill.”

“That doesn't mean you can't learn to use your enhanced abilities for some other purpose,” he insisted, holding her gaze again. “But to answer your question. The Elaysians are cautious but welcoming people. I think they will accept you without question. And maybe you can adopt one of those ziskalas. It might do you some good to have a pet.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” The intensity of his look was making her feel odd, but not in a bad way. “Am I free to leave here, or do I need to stay in this building until I make a decision on where to go if I go?”

Malakai backed up, disappointment flashing across his features before he schooled his expression into a smile. “You can come and go as you please. All I ask is that you remain aware of your surroundings so as not to bring trouble here. I would recommend keeping your prosthetics well covered under your cloak. I'm sure the Slothians are looking for you and your colleagues.”

“Thank you. I just need to get out in the fresh air to clear my head,” she said. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Celestia slipped outside and began wandering, losing herself in the noise and activities of the slums. Most business was conducted outdoors, with plenty of haggling. Children darted in and out of the crowd.

The din lessened as the slums gave way to a working-class neighborhood. There were fewer open-air stalls and more stores. The people living there were not remotely wealthy, but they had more than the lowest-class Senathrians.

Suddenly Celestia realized she recognized the area. She gazed up at the ten-story building that housed the apartment she had grown up in.

Celestia watched the light in the window she knew her family would be behind. Did she dare go up there? Would the mafia be watching them in case she showed up?

Tears blinding her right eye, she finally turned to flee. Celestia managed to get about a block away when someone in a military uniform caught her by the arm. Her left hand shot out and grabbed the person by the neck. He was lucky she recognized him before the fingers closed around his airpipe.

“Namid,” she breathed as her younger brother rubbed his throat.

He gestured for her to follow him into a nearby alley. Once they were out of sight, he pushed back her hood. “Celestia, I thought that was you,” he wheezed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't be here. I'm putting everyone in danger.” Celestia attempted to pull away.

Namid put his hand on her shoulder. “No. Don't leave yet. I know what has been happening. I mean, I didn't know you were one of the cyborg assassins, but I know about the project. And about the sleeper code.”

“How do you know about that?” she asked.

“They recruited me shortly after your accident. I’ve been researching the government involvement from within the military,” he replied.

Celestia backed away from him, not sure if she could trust him. What if he was working for the government? “Please, keep them safe.”

Namid grabbed her arm again. “Celestia, you are my sister. I would never do anything to hurt you. I love you. We all do. Come upstairs with me. Mama will never forgive me if I let you go.”

She shook him off. “And I’ll never forgive myself if any of you are hurt because of me. They think I'm dead. It's better if they continue to believe that. I'm leaving Senathria.”

“Celestia,” he called out as she slipped away into the shadows.

Not sure where else to go, Celestia returned to the headquarters. Malakai wasn't in the main room. An older man she vaguely recognized showed her out a back door and up a rickety staircase. After he left her in a small but clean bedroom, Celestia realized she had seen him on the base while she was still serving in the military.

The next day, a knock on the door awoke Celestia. She was oddly happy to see Makakai when she opened it. A cloaked figure pushed past him to pull her into a hug before he could say anything.

“Celestia. My baby. I missed you so much,” her mother cried. She stepped back. “Let me look at you. My beautiful girl.”

Celestia gave Namid a scathing look as he walked in behind Malakai. “What was I supposed to do? She saw the bruises on my throat. You know it's impossible to lie to her.”

“Mama, you shouldn’t be here,” Celestia said.

Her mother brushed off her reprimand. “Namid tells me you are leaving. Where are you planning to go?”

“Probably Elaysia, if Malakai can work it out,” she replied with a sigh.

“Oh. I’ve always wanted to see Elaysia. Wait until I tell your father.” her mother said excitedly.

“Mama, it's best that no one else knows. I don't want them getting in trouble covering for me.” Celestia said.

Her mother shook her head. “Oh, don't worry about that. We are coming with you.”

“What? All of you?” Celestia looked wide-eyed at Malakai, whose expression showed the same shock.

“Well, it may be hard for Solara to leave while she’s still serving. Indus just married, but I know he’s not happy here. Your father is so worn out, and I would do anything to keep Adhara out of the military. I wish none of you had gone through that.” she prattled on in her usual manner.

Celestia squeezed her mother’s hand. “You and Papa served. You were proud when Indus and I joined up. Why are you so against it now?”

“We’ve lost too much. Not just to the military. Senathria has never been an easy place to live, but it's worse now. The military is no longer here to serve the people. They are expendable.” Her mother began to cry. “After what happened to you and Pavo. My sweet Pavo.”

“What happened to Pavo?” Celestia looked at Namid.

He shook his head. “The Slothians’ goons ambushed his squadron. Gunned down in cold blood.”

“Why?” she cried. As annoying as any little brother could be, Pavo was also funny. He could always make her laugh with his ready jokes.

Namid shrugged. “Why do they do anything? Maybe they were getting too close to some secret operation.”

Malakai caught her pleading glance. “Transporting all of you will be more difficult than one. I will have to think about this.”

“I will see if I can get Solara transferred to a less dangerous post. Maybe as an aide to an officer. As soon as we can, we will join you in Elaysia.” Namid said. “Come on, Mama. Let me get you home.”

“I will contact you as soon as I know how I’m getting them off Senathria,” Malakai said.

Namid nodded as he led their mother out.

Two months later, Celestia slipped through the shadows along the edge of the port. She scanned the area, looking for the shuttle Malakai told her to board. She spotted the dilapidated vessel tucked in the corner of the port. Malakai caught her attention as she neared the ship. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“Yes. I'm tired of hiding,” she replied. “I want to live my life without looking over my shoulder.”

He followed her into the ship and tossed his bag aside. “Are you going too?” Celestial asked.

Malakai looked a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I...You are important to me, Celestia. Even if we are never more than friends, I don't want to live without you.”

“What about your work here?” Her heart was beating rapidly. Was he saying he was in love with her?

Malakai shrugged. “They’ll survive without me.” He took her hand and touched his forehead to hers. Celestia could feel the ridges pressing against her skin. “I fell in love with you while helping with your recovery. I knew it was wrong - being your aide and all. You were...are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Are you alright with me coming along?”

“Y...yes,” she whispered.

Their moment was disrupted by the arrival of her parents and youngest sister. Indus and his wife would be leaving on a different vessel. With any luck, Namid and Solara would make it to Elaysia in a few years. Celestia had found love from an unexpected source. She felt happier than she had in a very long time.