Strength

[zerohour]

Meant as a basic example of Strength Card for the Original Fiction Competition. Might continue it depending on response, but I already have a lot of stuff on my plate.

Enjoy.

“Sychronization is at twenty percent.” One of the techs stated. Joseph gulped nervously, still fighting the urge to tear the neural needles from his head. Instead, he closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, trying to settle his nerves.

Id, Ego, Superego. The three core aspects of every human being, put on a level playing field. Normally they were kept separate from each other, isolated. But the neural link joined them into a fully fused consciousness. For a moment, as the three conflicting aspects began to join together, everything went black.

Then, slowly, he began to regain consciousness.

The first thing he felt was rage. An unquenchable fury that dominated every aspect of his being. It didn't matter who was responsible, he needed an outlet, something in inflict his wrath upon. His eyes shot open, and locked on to the person nearest to him. He reached out to grab them, but found his arms trapped. With a deep growl, he strained against the metallic ropes holding him down, the difficulty only serving to make him angrier.

“He's nearing the threshold! I think he's going Berserk!” a voice cried out in panic. Joseph struggled against the restraints holding him down, dimly hearing the creak as they began to gave way. He felt a slight prick on the back of his neck, and let a furious roar.

The world began to dim, and he was only vaguely aware of a metallic screech before everything faded into darkness.

-- - --

Joseph woke up in a hospital bed, with a splitting headache. He sat up with a pained groan, before stumbling to his feet. A quick once over revealed that he wasn't in a hospital gown, and having reassured himself of his decency, he slowly made his way out of the hospital wing.

He had heard the stories, but he hadn't expected it to be so intense. If that was what it was like under controlled conditions, what would combat be like? As he wrestled with his thoughts, he noticed where he was. With a slight grin, he adjusted his path, and started heading toward Sally's room.

He and Sally had been friends for years, and had even joined the Synchro Program together. While his skills led him towards the role of a pilot, Sally had drifted more towards training. He stopped in front of a door, and peered in. He smile grew a bit wider, as he watched his childhood friend tell the eager young recruits how things were done. He closed his eyes, and simply listened as Sally gave the same speech they had heard when they first joined the program.

“Five years ago, the Thyren appeared and began to bombard the surface from orbit. It took us ten hours to prep a shuttle loaded with every missile we could fit in it, and during that time, they wiped out ten percent of all human life.

Since then we've managed to erect a defense network to protect us from anything above one hundred miles. If they want to get us, they have to come down to us. Even with this, their technology is far superior to ours, so we had to devise something new to deal with them. Our solution was the neural link.”

“The neural link greatly improves the connection between a pilot and his vehicle, giving us greater reaction speeds and maneuverability. The tradeoff is the altered state of consciousness most pilots experience, often resulting in-”

“Corporal Jones, the General wants to see you.” Joseph jumped as someone spoke to him. He turned and gave them his best glare, but knew that he couldn't put off the debriefing any longer.

It took less than five minutes for him to reach the Colonel's office. Joseph didn't hurry, but he arrived far sooner than he would have liked. Without any hesitation, he opened the door, stepped in, and saluted his commanding officer.

“I'm sorry sir, I should have kept myself under control.” Joseph apologized.

“At ease soldier. This sort of thing is the reason we avoid first deployments in combat situations. Hell, most of the time you start out sitting in a chair in the lab.” Colonel Travis Reness said, not even looking up from his pile of paperwork. The room, as always, was filled with cigar smoke, as the Colonel flagrantly disregarded protocol to get his nicotine fix.

“Still, I've been training for this for months. I feel like I should have conducted myself better.” Joseph said, assuming a relaxed stance.

“Son, when they strapped me into the chair, I ripped my way out of it and hospitalized the entire team before they managed to sedate me. You didn't even finish breaking out of the chair. All things considered, I think you did pretty well.”

“I nearly killed a man, and I was strapped down to a table. What if it happens when I'm piloting? What if I lose myself to the rage?” Joseph asked.

“To be honest, with the way things are going against the Thyren, we could use a little more rage on the battlefield.” Travis said, “Collateral damage is not a primary concern, in the face of imminent annihilation.”

“I understand sir.”

“Now suit up, and let's do it again.”