Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (5-8) Page 12

  “It can also happen when someone overtrains. While they do have some recovery time in between workouts, their backlog becomes so overwhelming that they can’t truly rest anymore. It’s similar to being out of breath after a hard run. How long it takes you to get your breathing back to normal varies, but as a metaphor, the overtraining person never gets his breathing down to normal levels before the next workout.”

  “Full body intervals,” Paul noted, using a running metaphor.

  “Which never end,” Wilson agreed. “So you’re constantly grinding yourself down. Before long you start to experience systemic damage and that’s the kind that becomes visible on the surface as old age.”

  “So bottom line,” Jason said, trying to sum it up in simpler terms, “we get some benefit just from taking the stuff, but in order to go superhuman we have to train our asses off while on it?”

  “Basically,” Wilson confirmed.

  “So where does the super growth come in?” Morgan asked. “Or was he always that tall?”

  Davis and Wilson exchanged glances, but it was Davis that spoke. “That’s where Vermaire gets complicated. Ambrosia wasn’t the only substance we discovered in Antarctica, though it was by far the largest in quantity. The V’kit’no’sat had a wide range of supplements and drugs that they used to augment their slaves, as well as themselves. Vermaire requested permission to use some of them, which I initially refused but eventually relented on. One of them was a growth serum.”

  “Ah, exactly how big were the Human slaves?” Paul asked, feeling even more uneasy about potentially fighting them, let alone the Dinosaurs.

  “6 foot 7 inches on average,” Davis said matter of fact. “We couldn’t find an image of anyone even under 6 feet, male or female.”

  “And the taller ones?” Jason asked.

  “Nothing above 8 feet, that we found anyway…which is still rather small compared to the Dinosaurs,” Davis reminded them.

  “Great,” Paul said, imagining an army of Black Knights with a T-Rex as backup.

  “Did he take something to make him resistant to stun energy?” Morgan asked.

  “No, that’s his armor,” Wilson admitted. “It absorbs stun energy, and will even draw it out of the user’s body so long as it doesn’t become saturated.”

  Jason frowned hard. “Really wish we’d known that earlier.”

  “Ditto,” Paul agreed.

  “What else did he take?” Morgan pressed.

  “He took a reduction drug when his growth rate exceeded expectation. He was a good 6 inches taller than he is now. Fortunately the V’kit’no’sat had created a way to fine tune body size using a combination of the two drugs, otherwise I don’t know how much bigger he would have grown before the drug wore off.”

  “Wait, they actually have a drug that makes you smaller?” Jason asked. “How does that even work? The loss of body mass would have to be uniform across all tissues.”

  “It is,” Davis confirmed. “I was as surprised as you, but the V’kit’no’sat apparently did their homework, and it does function without apparent side effect, though Vermaire is only one of three subjects to have experimented with it, and the other two were to combat growth deficiencies rather than for augmentation, so their data is questionable at best.”

  “He also took a sensory enhancement serum,” Wilson added with obvious dissatisfaction. “His eyesight and hearing increased significantly, as did taste and smell, but not touch or the internal senses.”

  “Are you making these available to us as well?” Morgan asked.

  Davis visibly stiffened. “I hadn’t planned to, we have very little data to work with other than Vermaire and I’m still not completely convinced there aren’t unforeseen side effects. The ambrosia I’m fairly certain of, but the rest is too dangerous in my opinion. If in time you feel otherwise we’ll discuss the matter, but for now I don’t want anyone using the other substances.”

  Paul looked at Wilson. “His physical strength and speed….drugs or training?”

  “Training, boosted with ambrosia,” the former Olympic decathlete confirmed, his distaste for drugs evident in his defensive tone.

  “Do the other drugs increase fighting ability?”

  “Theoretically yes,” Davis answered when Wilson hesitated.

  “Do you have any information on how badass the Human troops were? Do we have any idea what they were capable of?”

  “And how long they lived?” Morgan added.

  “A little,” Davis answered. “And several hundred, if not thousands of years…assuming they survived that long. The V’kit’no’sat used Humans as expendable resources, though it seems they didn’t waste them. Some entries even indicate that they were perturbed at having to retrain new Humans when some of their veterans were lost.”

  “How long do they live?” Jason asked.

  “You’ve seen video images of them?” Wilson asked.

  “Some,” Paul answered.

  “Different than the movies?”

  “Yes,” Paul answered as Jason’s eyes lit up.

  “More wiry,” he said. “More agile and fit.”

  Wilson nodded. “With their own version of ambrosia and their understanding of training, their lifespans appear to be unlimited, though there were references to some losses.”

  “Whether it be due to combat or some sort of internal social conflict or selection program,” Davis added, “there did appear to be an age hierarchy, with those more powerful individuals having lived for thousands of years, at least.”

  “Do we know how many of them there were?” Morgan asked.

  Davis shook his head. “No, but rough guestimates easily exceed the population of Earth. They had, or perhaps still have, an interstellar Empire spanning thousands of star systems. We’ve only been able to pull a partial map from the database, and it’s little more than navigational tags with no population references.”

  “What about the Humans?” Jason asked.

  “No firm numbers, but they appear to have been bred in far greater numbers given their smaller size and expendability.”

  “So we’re not only outgunned, outnumbered, and outclassed, but we’re also newbs on the experience front too. Oh yeah, this is going to be a piece of cake.”

  Davis half smiled. “One advantage we have is the vastness of space. Survival isn’t always about fighting and winning. I’m convinced we’re alive today because the V’kit’no’sat don’t know we’re here. According to the records they went to great lengths to track down and destroy any rogue slave populations.”

  “Either that or they’re dead,” Paul pointed out.

  “Wishful thinking, but a possibility none the less,” Davis admitted. “We need to spread out off of Earth so we can’t all be taken out in one assault, but before we can do that we have to get the home front stabilized, which means establishing a military so we can guard against our own planet’s stupidity. I don’t know the full implications of the ambrosia,” he said, motioning again to the vial, “but I trust you’ll figure out how to make the most of it.”

  Paul nodded.

  “Do you have more files available on the Human slaves?” Morgan asked. “It would help if we could study how they used it.”

  “All applicable files have been transferred to your personal database under the keyword “Ambrosia.” In addition, I’ve unlocked more auxiliary files on the V’kit’no’sat and their technology. It’s not everything we’ve collected to date, but it’s more than you were given access to during your basic training.”

  “Are the Dino drugs included in that?” Paul asked.

  “Yes, along with a full profile on Vermaire and what we’ve learned from him.”

  Jason turned to face Wilson. “I think you were right. We haven’t got to the hard part yet.”

  The head trainer raised an eyebrow. “Told you so.”

  Their conversation lasted another two hours before the adepts returned to their new accommodations and found most of the others in the lounge
playing games, including a mammoth 16-player Mario Kart race taking place on the big screen.

  “What did they want?” Emily asked, walking up beside them as they watched the others from behind.

  “Oh nothing,” Paul said deadpan. “They just gave us full control of the military, chatted a bit about the V’kit’no’sat, and revealed the origins of the Black Knight.”

  A dozen nearby heads suddenly spun around, including two that were wielding controllers.

  “What?” Kevin asked as his Yoshi ran off course into a pond.

  “Pause it,” Morgan ordered. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  6

  June 17, 2045

  Paul walked into the sparsely filled data lab and took a standing position at one of the flat workstation tables, using the touch screen surface to pull up the warship schematics he’d been working on for the past month and a half. He’d just gotten finished with his second run of the day but found he still had plenty of energy and didn’t feel the need to drag up a stool to sit on.

  As their dedicated computer system pulled up all the auxiliary files and spread them out across the virtual tabletop like paper documents in exactly the same positions he’d left them this morning, Paul rubbed his forehead and tried to blink away some of the pain from his lunch-induced headache. He’d just upped his ambrosia dosage for the second time, and the resulting ‘sugar-rush’ headache was no joke. He’d taken his most recent dose at lunch in the form of a tiny cookie wafer, which had only spiked the effect further.

  Over the past few weeks all of the 100 adepts had gone on the ambrosia, starting out at 3 ‘decis’ as they measured them. Davis, it turned out, was taking 2 decis per day, which were 1/10 of a ‘dose’ each, measuring in volume little more than a grain of sand. Due to the small size, they were usually incorporated into food or added to water, as was Davis’s preferred method of ingestion, carefully measured through a tiny automated device. Paul and the others weren’t patient enough for that approach and given their propensity for consuming snacks day round had found the ambrosia wafers an easy fit.

  They could be eaten at any time of the day, simultaneously or spread out, with Paul choosing the later, taking some with each meal, otherwise the adjustment headaches would be more severe. His body was still getting used to the super potent substance, but he was now able to triple his running workouts per day, getting his accustomed 10k in thrice…early morning, noon, and early evening, and he was running a good 15 seconds per mile faster than he had been before. Not quite superhuman level, but he knew that the additional mileage at a consistent speed would pay dividends a few months down the line, so he was content to put in his 75 laps a day and wait it out.

  The rest of his day was split between martial arts and the design work he was doing, both on the warship prototype and the overall military structure. He, Jason, Morgan, Greg, Sara, and Sam had been selected to handle the latter duties, while the others focused solely on physical training, spending more than 10 hours a day every day pushing their bodies to make as rapid improvement as possible, as well as to increase the dosage that their bodies could handle. Paul would have been doing the same thing, but his progression would have to occur at a slower rate, for he had a more immediate priority.

  Liam and Roger were also taking a couple hours out of their day to help with the warship design, but Paul had the lead and the responsibility to make it work, in addition to the design of the military structure. Part of him would rather have been training nonstop, but he knew how important getting this early foundation right was.

  But then again, that was the good part about having 100 adepts. They were all skilled enough that they could split up the duties and share the load, so while Paul was very interested in seeing how far the ambrosia could take his abilities, he knew the others would push the limits and experiment, then share their experience with him later that he could then use to more selectively plan out his own training and avoid the early pitfalls. The first ones to do something new were always having a rough go at it as they learned the ropes, and Paul’s current task was no exception.

  Between the ‘leaders’ and input from the others they’d unofficially decided to split their military into specialized divisions while they and the other classes that followed would be trained as multitaskers and trailblazers…those who spearheaded the drive into the unexplored, unfamiliar, or unexpected. The specialization for the others was meant for them to be able to focus all their efforts and training on one skill, both to push it as high as possible and to be able to keep up with them, given that they were the elite of the elite and could train in multiple skill sets simultaneously to great effect.

  Between Paul and Jason they’d mutually decided that they wanted one of these divisions to be made up of Black Knight copies…or as close as they could get to them. They didn’t know how to go about that yet, and the drugs that Vermaire had taken were still an undecided issue, but however they went about it they knew firsthand the effectiveness of their nemesis and had no problem with copycatting a good thing…after they advanced their own skills to the point where they could kick his ass.

  Which was why Paul had selected sword training as his secondary training emphasis. They’d all mutually agreed to pick three training areas to specialize in…a primary and two secondaries for at least the next year, if not considerably longer, with the idea being to focus more on specialization than they had done in their basic training, which had been quite varied, with more than 50 subcategories. Now, with the addition of the ambrosia, they knew they had to really grind out their training and changing types regularly would diminish the adaption effect.

  All of the adepts had chosen running as one of their three choices, given that it was a staple of physical training, with them spreading out their other choices amongst swimming, gymnastics, various martial arts areas, agility/reflex, and an experimental ‘targeting’ subcategory that Taryn and a few others were creating, with the idea being to see if ambrosia + training could increase marksmanship in a superhuman way, inspired by Legolas, Dead Pool, Zero, and others.

  All the rest of their previous training subcategories had put been put on hold, to be revisited someday in the future once they had the basics of ambrosia training worked out and a structure established for the Adept level and beyond. Their training and future activities were in their own hands now and they were having to make all this up as they went.

  A challenge in and of itself, but it was one that Paul was throwing himself into fully. With unanimous and almost unnecessary agreement, the need for a naval division of the military was a no-brainer and of the utmost importance, but designing one was posing several problems.

  First of which was the lack of adequate defense. Paul was not going to put pilots or crews into ships that were likely to be destroyed in an orbital chess match. Their fate needed to be tied to their skills, and so far that seemed unfeasible with the technology and strategies they’d been working with.

  Simulations were fine for experimentation, but constructing actual ships with real crews wasn’t something that Paul was going to take chances with, so in the first few weeks he and some of the others had co-oped and designed a new type of drone that could be attached to stations or ships and flown as a remote weapons platform in singles or clusters, giving Davis something he could begin producing now and get into field testing ASAP.

  Paul knew they couldn’t start arming their infrastructure yet, but it was something to get the ball rolling none the less. Now was the harder part…designing both a warship and the military structure in which it would fit.

  The primary schematic laying out before Paul on the touch screen was an experiment resulting from several weeks of limited inspiration. Knowing that artificial gravity was essential to space flight, Paul started off designing an AG section, ultimately opting to go with a disc unit that, ironically, ended up resembling the saucer section of the Enterprise or other Star Trek ships.

  With that basic piece in place he’d been playing
around with add-ons and feeding the designs into the simulators, supremely unhappy with all versions. The basic problem he was having was not in constructing a suitable ship, but that he didn’t know for sure what he needed it to do.

  That was why it was necessary to develop a structure, or call it a philosophy, for space combat around which the naval division would be molded, and they were having to create it all from scratch…or, mostly, it was Paul that was having to do it, given that he seemed to have an edge over all the others in this area, though the others were more than willing to chip in where they could.

  So far they hadn’t come up with anything. They’d floated around several ideas, went back through historical records of water naval conflict, even land conflicts, to try and glimpse some insight, but nothing really worked. Paul didn’t know what they were missing, but he couldn’t feel the mojo on this. There was something else, literally on the tip of his mind, but he just couldn’t make the connection…like he’d seen it before but couldn’t remember.

  It was really beginning to annoy him, as was their lack of progress. They couldn’t move forward without getting this first piece of the puzzle in place and Paul hated the feeling of going nowhere fast, brainstorming for hours upon hours and having nothing to show for it.

  Looking down at the schematics and auxiliary files Paul finally just said ‘to hell with it’ and swiped it all into a side folder, clearing the virtual tabletop and leaning against the edge, taking a long breath and staring down at the blank white workstation.

  “Think, Paul, think. What are you missing?”

  7

  July 2, 2045

  Jason whipped his rod-like training sword around his head at eye level, impacting two slightly askew targets with the single stroke, then reversing the sword’s momentum and rolling the blade over his head and slamming it down on a target just off the floor. Each time he hit one of the suspended, baseball-sized spheres a faint chime would sound, signaling a successful hit even as the targets swung aside on their swivel arms, allowing Jason to strike through his targets.