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Saber's War

Chapter 1 Changes in Status

By Goliath Wildcat

"Captain Storm, you know what you are here for I believe?" says the graying man in the Earth Space Corps uniform, the small oak leaves on his collar showing his rank to be Major. "I understand that you have proven in extensive testing that you can withstand over twelve G's?" The Major sits back in his overstuffed chair as he looks over the contents of a plain manila file folder marked "classified" in bold red letters.

A young man with cropped black hair sits in the chair opposite the officer and gives a casual shrug of his uniformed shoulders. "Yes sir, it has been proven, and for the record I've never blacked out from G's despite tests and years of flying. As for why am I here, I have no real idea. I was grabbed from my base dirt side and shipped up here to test something would be my guess." He lounges back in his chair calmly, "Nothing unusual there, I am a test pilot after all, it's my job."

Suddenly he leans forward and looks at the officer with an intent gaze, his index finger tapping the solid wood desk between him and the major, "But why am I up here in space? And why has there been no data on this plane I am to test placed in my hands yet? It is standard to give the information to a pilot at least twenty-four hours in advance of any tests so he can look over the data and familiarize himself with the controls." Keeping his gaze leveled at the officer behind the desk he leans back again and steeples his fingers in front of his face. "So why not fill me in on those answers?"

The Major shuffles some folders around for a minute before continuing. "Yes well, now that you are here I guess I can tell you a little bit about our new toy. You are up here to test a new prototype space fighter as you suspected. And it's something never before seen in Earth's skies, utilizes a totally new prototype engine."

The younger man shakes his head. "They test fighters in atmosphere first, not deep space, less chance of losing the plane and pilot to a tiny malfunction. Even I know that and most of you higher ups consider me the same as a dumb ground-pounder. Now why, in hell, am I up here in space?"

The Major looks at him with a level stare and a tiny grin crosses his features. "We do now son." He scoots a folder marked "Top Secret" across his desk to Captain Storm and sits back in his chair.

The pilot picks it up and starts flipping through it. The first several pages are the usual claptrap about how the fighter came to be designed, and revealing any of this data will be considered an act of treason. But, when he reaches the specs he stops as a look of shock crosses his features. He looks up at the man sitting in front of him. "You must be kidding. Over twelve g's of straight acceleration. No wonder you aren't trying it out in an atmosphere, it would rip its wings off in seconds from the atmospheric drag alone. What does it pull in the turns?"

The Major gets a worried look on his face. "Well, you see, we don't know for sure, and we can't even calculate what it can do because the new engine is far more advanced than the current drives we're using in our small one man fighters. Computer tests just crash when we try to run it. We haven't been able to find a pilot who could stand taking it to the limits on straight acceleration." He closes the personnel folder on the Captain he still holds, "That is why you are here, in space. You can take that at least, maybe more, hopefully much more." He leans forward and rests his arms on the desk, hands clasped in front of him. "Are you interested in seeing just how fast it can go son?"

Captain Storm looks back at the folder in his lap before he finally nods his head. "Yes sir, I think I am."

The Major gives a quick sharp nod before he sits back in his seat and smiles his fingers steepled in front of his chin. "Good. You might also want to check the name on the design if what I have heard of you is true."

He looks down at the folder in his hand and his eyebrows arch upwards. "You got to be kidding me, the Saber Star-fighter?"

The major nods his head with a triumphant smile on his face. "That's right Captain James 'Saber' Storm. You could say this fighter was made for you." He stands up and holds his hand out to the young pilot. "You have two hours before the official briefing. Let me show you to the ready room where you can suit up."

Captain Storm stands and exits the small room with the un-named Major. He still looks a little nervous though about this fighter. "Maybe this time I'll cash it in," he thinks to himself. There is one thing that faces all test pilots, the thought that they will probably die a messy death in the cockpit one day.

***

A sleek silver fighter streaks through the dead blackness of space. Twin trails of blue ionized light flow from the engines, only to be swallowed up by the black of space after the craft has passed.

"Air control, this is Saber. I am ready to engage the full-power drive test." His left gloved hand grips the throttle tightly at the halfway mark, waiting for the go signal.

"Saber, this is air control. You are clear to engage full throttle. Repeat, you are clear to go for test run at full throttle."

Saber clutches the control stick in front of him and takes a deep breath. "Roger that air control." He flips the cover off a switch on the throttle and poises his thumb over it. "Engaging," he states calmly as he jams his thumb down on it to unlock the throttle and pushes the lever all the way forward into the red.

He can feel the change in the engine behind him and hear the whine of the engines going up as they reach a new level of power and thrust. Suddenly he is shoved back into his seat as the fighter starts accelerating at an unfathomable speed. He watches his heads up display as the G's are measured in bright green letters in front of his face on his visor. As the G's mount his pressure suit tries to help him stay conscious by constricting around his lower body and forcing the blood out of his extremities to keep oxygen supplied to his brain.

"Saber, this is air control. We read you at full thrust. You are now clear to start test maneuvers."

He hears but can't respond due to the stresses on his body. It is all he can do to keep breathing with the forces pushing against his chest. The pressure is climbing, passing 2000 LBS., more than any man has ever sustained for long. He knows what to do though. His grip on the control stick tightens more and he pulls back on the stick, pulling it into his gut as he feels the forces increase and the fighter tries to force the change from its current vector to the new one he wants from it.

The frame groans around him as it starts to turn and the engines start to whine at a higher pitch. The stress is un-measurable as he feels the pressure increase by leaps and bounds. The gauge on the HUD inside his helmet hits fifteen G's and starts flashing, it can't measure anymore, the sensors overwhelmed by the pressures and overloading their circuits in the attempt. His vision starts to darken as the blood rushes from his head despite the G suit's best efforts, the pressure on his chest not allowing him to breathe. Finally, half way though the turn the engines cut off and the ship slows and starts to drift, its inertial system naturally slowing it down as the onboard computers read the pilot's lack of response.

"Saber, Saber, are you there?" The Air-boss calls frantically, the worry clear in his voice. He reaches over and changes the radio frequency over to the emergency band. "Emergency craft, we have a pilot out. Meet up with the Saber X-1 and retrieve the pilot and craft. All systems are out. Looks like another blackout. We've got no readings on the pilot. Unsure if this is a failure of the sensors or the pilot. Assume situation is critical."

"Roger that control. ETA is three minutes." The yellow blips on the screen of the Air-boss' radar start moving in on the lone ship. After a few minutes two of the blips catch up to the lone fighter and start bringing it back. "Scanners show the pilot is alive, blacked out but otherwise intact. We are returning to base now."

"Copy that rescue. We will have medics waiting for you in the bay when you dock." The Airboss alerts the medics to be ready and sits back for a minute and wipes his brow. "That was close." He glances over the readouts from the tests, "So close, and yet so far away." He gathers up the readout data and leaves the room to report in.

***

The Air-boss walks down a corridor and taps on a simple unmarked door.

"Come," cries a voice from inside.

He enters and places the data pad down in front of the General sitting behind the desk before turning and exiting the room without a word.

After a minute or two the General picks up the data-pad and starts going over the data. Finally he sets it down shaking his head slowly. "He almost made it through a one-hundred and eighty degree turn. Another ten seconds and he would have made it." He leans back and steeples his fingers. "Well major, what do you suggest now?"

The Major sitting across the desk re-settles himself into his seat and looks at the general a little uncomfortably. "Are you sure we're really meant to use this technology, sir?"

The General frowns, "Of course. If we were not supposed to use it we wouldn't have salvaged that wreckage from the asteroid belt. Whoever designed these engines could either withstand more G's, or they had some way to dampen them down to a manageable level. We just have to learn how to adapt to the situation is all."

Wiping his brow of a few beads of sweat the Major sighs softly, "The way I see it, we only have one option left to us, sir. The nano-gen technique could do for him what nothing else will."

Leaning forward again the General looks at him with a piercing gaze. "You know what the risk is in such a plan. Are you sure we should use this man?" The Major nods his head quietly in response. "Okay, we'll talk to this man after he recovers. What was his name?"

The Major cracks a slight smile, "Captain James 'Saber' Storm, sir."

The General nods at him as the Major gets up and leaves. Picking up the data-pad again and scrolling to the pilot data the General hums quietly to himself. Reading over the information he sits there staring at the picture of the young pilot. "Well, Captain Storm, I hope you choose to see things our way. I really do."

***

James slowly woke in a strange bed. With a quick look around he knows he is in an infirmary with many wires and tubes connecting him to machines that are monitoring his vital signs, again. He slowly looks back towards the ceiling and lets loose with a long drawn-out sigh, "Just great. What happened this time?" He could clearly remember the flight right up till after he started the turn. "I must have blacked out. Thought I would, the human body just can't keep up the pace with the g-forces involved. But if it could, man what a fighter it would be. That speed was amazing." He sighs again as he remembers the thrill of flying at those speeds and accelerations, the only time he truly feels alive is roaring through space with a star-engine strapped to his ass as he pushes the power to the limit.

A knock brings his attention to the doorway, and the Major standing there. "How are you doing son?"

James forces himself to sit up slowly and rests his back against the pillows. "Not too bad sir. I'm guessing from my surroundings that I passed out during the test flight?"

The Major nods his head as he walks in and takes a seat next to the bed. "Sadly, yes. You made it about three-fourths of the way through the turn before you finally blacked out. Our sensors detected that you took over 15 G's, not bad son. Better than any other pilot in the forces can pull."

James leans his head back and looks up at the ceiling. "Only a few more seconds, that was all I needed. Just a few more seconds was all."

"Time to make my move," thinks the Major with a mental grin. "Well, son, I might know a way we can arrange for you to last that extra few seconds, and many more if needed."

James snaps his head down and gives the Major a startled, disbelieving look, "How?"

The Major looks a little hesitant. "Well, you have heard of the advances we have made in gene therapy lately with the use of nanites I'm sure." At James' nod he continues, "We have a way to take it a step further and do gene splicing."

He eyes the Major almost as if he had just suggested he take poison to survive the G's. "What exactly are you suggesting? That I let you tamper with my genes?"

"Well, you know of the Zarm right?" At another nod from James he continues. "Well, it is surprising how similar the DNA's are. It has been suggested that we can take some parts of their DNA and splice it into a human's. Thus giving that person the genetic ability to survive extreme G-forces beyond anything a normal human can."

Fire flashes in James' eyes at the suggestion. "Are you seriously suggesting I turn myself into a Zarm just so I can fly your plane?"

"No, no, no, you misunderstand. Because of the similarities, you will still be mostly human. You will only have their ability to withstand extremes of gravity. You will even still be able to have children with a human woman, though those children would of course have the enhanced G resistance too." The Major can see the look of interest in his eyes now. "So, are you interested?"

The Captain thinks to himself for a few minutes in silence before he says anything. "You know, I might be crazy, but sign me up. You just got yourselves one test bunny."

The major holds out his hand with a smile. "Good, I'll tell those involved and we can start the process within a few hours."

"Just one question sir. Is this reversible?"

"Of course son, we will keep your entire DNA on record so we can turn you back if need be. But don't worry son, nothing will go wrong." And the door closed behind him as he left the room.

"I hope I am making the right choice here," he thinks to himself as he lies there. After a few moments of lying there, thinking, he shrugs. "Of course I am. They would never do anything to hurt one of their best test pilots, would they?"

***

Later that day James Storm is asleep on an operating table in a sterile white room. A flurry of white coats and masked people moving around him, it looks like utter chaos to an observer. Two men observe this ordered chaos through a one-way mirror on one side of the room.

The General speaks without looking over at the Major. "How did you get him to go for this on his own?"

"He seemed almost happy to volunteer sir, after I explained all the benefits to him. Oh, and I told him we would change him back if he wanted us too." The Major gives himself a mental pat on the back for that little lie.

The General gives a silent chuckle of his own. "If this works, why should we? He will be the only pilot who can survive the flying of that damn ship."

"I know sir, but if we mysteriously lost his DNA record, then we can't reverse it, can we sir? He'll have no choice but to continue in our services while we attempt to 'recover' his records."

The General gives another chuckle. "Indeed we can't. Lose them Major," he commands without looking over at him.

The Major snaps off a salute and leaves the observation room. The General continues to watch the flurry around the young pilot on the table. "Well lad, here goes nothing," he thinks to himself as he watches an assistant enter with a covered tray.

He watches as one of the doctors removes the towel coving the tray and lifts a large syringe from it. Wiping down a patch of his arm with disinfectant he injects a red fluid into the pilot's arm. It is pulled out and another one is inserted in the exact same spot. Several more injections are inserted in sequence while James lies there on the table unaware of what is happening to him. After the doctor withdraws the last needle and sets it on the tray he turns towards the mirror and gives a nod. The flurry seems to wane as people leave. Two large orderlies come in and wheel the table out of the room, Captain Storm still unconscious on it. "Now all we have to do is wait and see what happens," thinks the General as he leaves the observation room and returns to his office. Entering his office he sits down and opens a locked drawer and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Pouring himself a shot of the amber liquid he holds it up, "To success," he toasts before he knocks it back. Returning the bottle and glass to the drawer he picks up a folder and thumbs through its contents.

***

A tapping on the door raises the General's head from the folder he is reading on his desk. "Come," he calls out.

The Major opens the door and steps in with a nervous look on his face, closing the door behind him quietly. The General waves him towards a chair, which the Major takes.

"Sir, we have a problem," he says with a slight waver in his voice.

The General gives him a level look as he pours a glass of whiskey for the younger man, "What is it Major?"

"Someone goofed. Captain Storm was given the wrong injections. He somehow got the DNA scheduled for the experimental labs doing our nano-gen project." The Major gives a downward cast of his eyes. "He didn't turn out like we were expecting him to, but he did turn into what the other team is working on. Turned out better than the other test subjects did as a matter of fact since he seems to have made a full recovery and transformation." He looks back up as the General holds out a glass of whiskey for him.

The General doesn't seem too worried about this turn of events though. "We don't have a problem Major." The Major looks confused, "There are plenty more test pilots we can do the G tests on. Just cause he was the best doesn't mean he was the only one."

Tossing back the glass of whiskey he gives the General a grin, "I understand, sir."

"Well, you know what to do Major, box him up and send him where he will cause no trouble." The General thinks for a minute before continuing. "Oh yes, which one was he given?"

"Project Titan, sir."

The General grins mischievously at this, "This accident might just work in our favor then." He dismisses the Major with a wave of his hand, "Go on and take care of our newest recruit."

***

Sometime later James Storm wakes in his recovery room. "Mmmm, I thought I would feel at least a little pain from the gene splicing, but I feel great." He reaches for the control to turn off the lights so he can get some more rest. But when he hits the button the lights come on almost blinding him with their brilliance.

"Arrgghhh." He closes his eyes and raises his arm to block the light. Strange, his arm has never been that hairy, but now it feels almost, furry! Slowly he opens his eyes and sees his arm. The shock of what he sees causes him to open his eyes wide in surprise.

The arm in front of his eyes is covered in a complete coat of silver fur. "What the hell!" He lowers the arm and looks over the rest of him. He is totally covered in a silver fur coat from head to toe. "What the hell did they do to me? They said I would still look human, this isn't even remotely human," he thinks to himself in a near panic. He throws the covers off and sees that the fur continues all the way down to his odd looking feet. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up to go look in the mirror in the bathroom but falls. His feet seem strange; they don't want to lay flat on the floor. Looking down at them he sees why.

Now that he is kneeling on the ground instead of lying down he sees they are kind of shaped like the back legs of a cat or dog. "Looks like they are designed for me to walk on my toes," taking a tentative step he realizes it feels like he is walking on his toes but it feels natural; digitigrade he remembers it is called. Looking behind him he sees a long silver tail hanging behind him limply like a length of furry hose just dragging on the floor. "What have they done to me?"

By grabbing things on his way to the bathroom he finally gets there and turns on the light. There, staring back at him is a pair of gray eyes set in a panther's feline face. Hair black as space hangs halfway down his back. He notices that his eyes are not a solid gray, but rather are streaked with gold. He can feel his jaw drop and the reflection does the same, showing quite a variety of carnivorous style teeth in his mouth.

"Oh shit, what did they do to me? I'm a god damn monster!"

Right about then the door to his room opens, and the Major walks in with a hand behind his back. "I see you have finally wakened."

James turns with fire burning in his eyes. "What the hell did you do to me you son-of-a-bitch?"

The Major walks over and seats himself in a chair before saying another word. "Well Captain, it seems someone mixed up the DNA you were to be given, and this is the result."

The fire is still there as he glares at the man sitting so calmly in his presence. "You said you could turn me back, do it now."

The Major shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry lad, we can't do that. The copy of your DNA was lost in a computer failure. You are stuck like this son."

James stands on his shaky legs and holds out a hand. With an unconscious flex of his hand, sharp black claws extend from his fingertips. "Either you change me back, or I will tell the world what you did to me. You can kiss your career goodbye." A growl comes from deep in his chest, "After I rip you a new ass!"

The Major shrugs his shoulders. "Go ahead son. Like I said there is no way to reverse what we did to you now." Suddenly he pulls a bulky pistol from behind his back and points it straight at James. "But, there is no way we can let you tell anybody what happened here either son." He grins slyly, "As for ripping me a new ass, I think not."

The Captain slowly drops his hand in shock looking at the pistol. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing personal son, but we can't let you run around loose." With a puff of air a dart appears in James' chest. He looks down at it and then back up at the Major, just sitting there, smiling. He pulls out the dart and throws it to the ground as his ears flatten and with a growl he lunges for the grinning Major. The man gives a startled look and pops off two more darts as he leaps out of the chair. The darts strike James square in the chest and with a loud crash he lands on the chair and smashes it to splinters.

"What have they done to me?" are his final thoughts as the blackness overtakes him and the sedatives do their work.

As his eyes close the Major smiles down at him with an evil grin, "Nighty night kitten."

***

Thirty minutes later the Major enters the General's office. "Sir, he's boxed up and on his way."

The General leans back in his chair and looks at the Major standing before him. "Good, how hard was it?"

A worried look crosses his face. "Sir, it took more then we thought it would."

The older man pours the Major a drink as he raises an eyebrow at him, "How so?"

"First dart didn't even faze him," he downs the glass of whiskey in a single gulp, "took two more to drop him to the deck. But not before he charged me."

The General smiles, "Well, I guess that shows that the experiment was a success with the subject then. He would have made a perfect soldier. Too bad he's a fighter jock, not a ground-pounder."

The Major still has a worried look on his face. "Sir, I am not too sure we can control these soldiers. This is a risk to our control to keep making them, especially with the new subjects. The first volunteers entered into the program knowing full well what we were doing to them. Some of your newest subjects were civilians, sir. There could be ramifications from this if it ever comes out. Take project Ares for instance."

The General leans forward onto the desk and dismisses the Major's worries with a flick of his hand. "Yes, well, we shall see. But that is not a problem for now. After all, you boxed him up and sent him to our secret base with the others didn't you?"

The Major nods, "Yes, sir. He should be getting loaded onto a transport right now with the rest of the shipment."

"Then I don't see as how we have any problems Major." He dismisses the officer with a wave of his hand.

He stands there for another minute as the General returns to his work. Finally he turns and leaves the office.

Once out in the hall he looks back at the door thinking, "How can we control a person like him? He was a test pilot because he was uncontrollable, always pushing the envelope. You can't suddenly insist he change what made you want him in the first place. Maybe this whole project is a bad idea." Slowly he walks down the corridor with much to think on.

***

Meanwhile, a small freighter is launching from the space station's docking bay. It slowly clears the immediate area of the station and suddenly accelerates at an unusually high speed.

Inside the copilot looks over at the pilot with a worried look. "Are you sure we shouldn't be taking it easier? We are hauling live cargo after all."

The pilot just laughs at his worries. "They're all in cryo-sleep. They can't even feel any of it in their padded cocoons. Besides, those things are designed to protect them against acceleration. They'll be fine."

The copilot gives a nervous glance over at the pilot as the acceleration slows and they settle into cruising speed. After an hour of watching the displays slowly showing everything normal he un-straps and heads aft.

The pilot looks over his shoulder at the co-pilot, "Where you going?"

He glances at his partner, "Just to check on the cargo, want to make sure everything is okay back there."

The pilot waves his hand over his shoulder as he turns back to his displays. "Fine, if it makes you feel better, go ahead."

The copilot leaves the cabin and heads down the hall connecting the pilot's cabin to the holds. He comes to the first and opens the door. A few of the cryo-chambers have shifted, but nothing too bad, nothing that would risk the occupants. He takes a few minutes to shift them back into position and secure them solidly before he continues on to the next hold. After straightening a few in each of the four smaller holds he moves into the main hold in the aft section just forward of the engines.

When he opens the door he sees what he had feared he would find. A chamber that was on top wasn't secured enough, and during the acceleration had not only shifted, but fallen onto the floor. He quickly runs up and starts checking the readout attached to the outside of the cryo-chamber. After running it through its tests he gives a sigh of relief. "Everything is running at one hundred percent. Good thing too, it could have been our asses for this."

He stands up running his hand through his hair and heads forward to get the help of the pilot. When he re-enters the flight cabin, the pilot has his feet up on the console as he watches the autopilot fly the ship. "Well, anything wrong?" he asks without turning to look.

Glaring at the back of his head he frowns, "Come on, we need to put one chamber back into place. One on the top tier in the main hold fell. I need help to put it back into place."

As the pilot stands he stretches, his back popping loudly. He still doesn't show any signs of worry for his actions. "Was it damaged?"

The copilot is slowly getting angry at his attitude. "No, thank god, but it could have easily been damaged. I don't want someone's blood on my hands."

The pilot pats him on the back, "Yeah, but everything is okay. So don't worry about it. We'll get this cargo to Mars and no one will know anything about it."

***

Twelve hours later the freighter is approaching the red planet, Mars.

The pilot keys the comm-system, "Base Gen-Two, this is the Regent's Glory. We have another shipment for you; please turn on your landing beacon."

"Copy that Regent; this is Gen-Two air control. You are cleared to land. We are turning on the beacon now."

The pilot smiles as the nav-computer detects the beacon and locks onto it. "Now all we have is a gentle ride down and we can deliver this cargo to its place like so many before."

The copilot looks at his boards nervously. "I am still worried that something might be wrong with that cryo-chamber that was dropped."

"I told you, if you say anything to anyone we are in deep trouble. You ran the checks on it and it checked out fine, so stop worrying."

As the shuddering of re-entry starts shaking the ship the copilot is too busy watching his readouts to reply.

Inside the hold it is just as bumpy despite the cargo restraints. The cryo-chambers are jumping around in their spaces from the shaking the ship's hull is taking. A wire comes loose behind a panel of the one that was dropped. A red light flashes once then goes out once more.

In ten minutes the freighter has touched down on the hidden landing pad, which slowly lowers itself below the ground. As the freighter clears the surface the landing bay doors close over it, concealing the landing bay under armored blast doors designed to look just like the land around them. In minutes there is no sign that the freighter or landing pad was ever there.

***

Deep underground, the pilot and copilot disembark their craft to the noise and calamity of a military hanger. A marine sergeant salutes them as they walk down the ramp. "Have a good trip sir?"

The pilot returns the salute casually, "Fine, sergeant, fine. I need to be off in two hours, think you can have her off-loaded and refueled by then?"

"Yes sir, she'll be ready for you in two hours."

"Good," the pilot slaps his hand on his copilot's back and starts walking out of the landing bay. "Come on mate, we need a drink before we lift again. Let's find a pub."

The copilot walks along in silence, his mind still thinking about that one chamber that dropped.

***

Once the two pilots are out of sight the sergeant waves for a crew of handlers to come over. Five of them climb into the loaders and start walking over while others rush to open the doors to the holds. A humanoid arctic fox steps up next to the sergeant and sighs softly, "More conscripts it seems?"

He nods, "Yes, ma'am. We've got thirty-six more to add to the rosters and evaluate according to the manifest. There are already more then enough people up here Shadow, why are they sending more?"

The vixen shakes her head and sighs, "I don't know. I better go inform the commander, have two of your boys keep an eye on those two. They aren't cleared to know about us."

"Don't worry ma'am, we've already got them under surveillance and they won't be allowed into the main base." He snaps her a salute that she returns before turning and following the loaders as they transfer the cryo-chambers from the ship to a flatbed carrier with extreme care.

***

Twelve hours later a cryo-chamber in holding room ten starts beeping. There is a slight rustling from inside and the occupant's eyes slowly open.

"Where am I?" thinks James as his eyes dart around only seeing darkness. He reaches forward and feels the inner wall of the chamber. "What the hell have they done with me now?" He remembers waking up and not being himself, or anything like what he was expecting to look like. Then he remembers the Major shooting him with some type of dart gun several times, after that, nothing. "Where am I?"

Suddenly his hand finds a handle and with a grunt he gives it a yank. The front of the chamber opens with a gentle hiss and he finds himself in a room with similar chambers lining the walls and standing in rows. Slowly he steps out and turns to examine the chamber closely. He is surprised to see a cryo-chamber, James Thunder Storm clearly visible on a small nameplate. "Oh my god, how long have I been out?"

He looks at the display and seeing the date realizes he hasn't been out too long. The display indicates a wire leading to the cryo-gas supply had broken loose during transport, probably why he is now awake. He looks down at himself and realizes his first order of business should be to procure some clothing since they boxed him up without anything on. He starts walking towards the door glancing at the surrounding chambers. The name tags all bear names that mean nothing to him till he is almost to the last of them.

One stands out amongst all the chambers. The name on it reads Jeffery Wildcat.

The silver panther stands there in shock as he reads the name again. "It can't be." He walks up to it and rests his hand on it. "What the hell? What are you doing here old friend? You weren't in any branch of the military." He reaches over and keys the pad mounted on the cover. "Well, that at least is a relief, you haven't been in here too long either. Let's get out of here together. No way am I leaving a friend behind."

He quickly punches in a release sequence and waits nervously as the chamber cycles to wake up its occupant. "Come on, we can't take too much longer. What if someone came in here and found us."

Finally the chamber finishes telling itself how to wake up its occupant and finally the display turns green. With a slight hiss the door opens and James gets his first look at his friend in a long time.

And the reason he is here too is readily apparent. He no longer looks human either. He now resembles a huge bipedal mountain lion. The pelt that now covers him is a light tan with white on his chest, belly, groin, and inner thighs. A pair of round ears sticks out from his thick brown hair and he too has digitigrade legs now. And just like James, he is also nude as the day he was born. And while he was tall before he is now huge, even slumped he is clearly over seven feet tall. With the door open and the rush of cooler air inside he starts to stir.

"Mmmm, is it time to get up already?" he says as he stretches out his arms. Not seeming to take notice of the change in his voice.

"Uh, Jeff, you might just be surprised by your new surroundings." James says as he realizes his friend has no clue what has happened.

"Huh," suddenly his eyes snap open and he sees the morphic panther in front of him. His ears flatten and his mouth contorts into a snarl, "Who the hell are you?"

"Shhhhhhhh," James hushes as he looks nervously towards the door, his ears flattening against his head in reflex. "Keep it down. We don't know who is about." He looks back at the huge cougar now standing before him. He was right; he is now about seven foot six inches tall. "Now, I know this is going to be hard to accept, but you know someone named James Thunder Storm right?"

The large cougar looks confused, "Yeah, I grew up with him, but what does he have to do with you? And why am I here?"

James scratches his head nervously and grins sheepishly before he continues. "Well, I am James. And you are not yourself anymore."

The cougar looks down at himself only to almost drop to the floor in shock as he lets out a started cry of surprise that sounds more like a frightened kittens mewling. "What the hell has happened to me?" His gaze snaps back towards the silver cat, a snarl on his muzzle, "And how do I know that you are James?"

"Your second question first. Who else would know it was you, Goliath, or would know that you used to call me Saber, and I took it as my call sign when I joined up? As for you first question," he pauses as he takes a deep breath to try and figure out how to explain this. "Well, did you join the military recently and not mail me about it?"

"No, I have no interest in joining the military." He gives him a puzzled look, "You should know that if you really are James."

"Well, I think you just got drafted buddy. Because a military experiment is why I am now like this. And I think it is the same reason you are as you look now too." He glances around at the other chambers around the room. "And from the looks of things, we aren't the only ones."

Suddenly the door behind them opens and a form framed by the bright lights outside the room looks in. "No, you aren't the first ones," says a husky voice. As their eyes adjust to the bright light they can see the average sized humanoid gray wolf standing in the doorway looking in on them. "I guess somebody messed up in shipping and didn't want to tell anyone about it. Come on you two. Let's find you some clothes and a place to bunk. Then we need to talk about a few things I guess."

James is looking in wonder at the wolf talking to them. "You aren't going to put us back into the cryo-chambers?"

The wolf shakes his head, "Not as long as you don't cause problems. Keep your noses clean and you can stay out since someone else fucked up. I'm not going to put you back in those coffins, not if I have any choice about it anyway." He steps aside and motions for them to exit the room. "Come on, its night here, and no one will be up to see you walking around naked as the day you two were born."

As they exit the room cautiously James asks the wolf, "How did you know we were in there?"

"It has happened before, and I like to keep an eye on the storage rooms when a new shipment arrives. This way I can be here if someone wakes so I can intervene before something bad happens." There is a tone in his voice that says there have been bad things happen before.

"I take it from the tone in your voice something bad has happened?" Jeff asks wearily eyeing the wolf.

"Yes, we had one person wake up and go on a killing spree. We didn't have any choice but to shoot him with live rounds. Stunners and trank-darts had no effect on him. I hated doing it, but there was nothing else to do. He had already killed three people and wounded twenty more before we could stop him."

James can sense the pain in the wolf's voice at what had to be done that time. "Well, we haven't tried any such thing, so don't worry about it."

"We'll see," says the wolf as he escorts them down the hallway. "Just please don't give me a reason to shoot you two, I don't want any more of our type's blood on my hands."

Jeff mumbles quietly as he rubs his chin in thought. "Don't worry. You won't have that problem with us."

The wolf looks up at him, his keen hearing having picked up even the big fella's quiet mutterings. "Let's hope not big fella, I would hate to have to fight you unarmed." He gives a slight chuckle and soon James and Jeff are joining in with nervous chuckles of their own.

James 'Saber' Storm is Copyright his player. All other characters unless otherwise stated are the property of Christopher Gilman. Story Copyright Christopher Gilman 2001 all rights reserved

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