7:45 Primary Sequencing Lab

John and the alpha-clone remained locked in mortal combat. They continued to grapple with one another, but neither was having any success getting any leverage over the other. The overconfidence of the clone was disappearing by the second, replaced with a nagging sense of dread. John was but a step ahead from being a rabid berserker, he was nearly consumed with anger over the abomination of science he was wrestling with.

The clone was visibly exerting itself as he tried to overpower John. It was confounded by its adversary. John seemed to be nothing more than a feral animal to it. John did it no favors as he continued growling angrily back at him. Neither could move or make any headway against the other.

The clone managed to get just enough leverage to allow it to act first. When he managed to get an arm free. The clone went for the eyes, but John dodged the attack and used that as leverage to get his left arm free. He kicked his opponent’s front foot which further put the clone out of balance. John dashed back when the grip on his left arm was finally broken.

“WHAT ARE YOU?” the clone roared as his eyes flashed blue once more, “WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?”

John responded by breathing heavily. He watched his foe and paced around the room. Once again, the two were playing out thousands, if not millions, of permutations based on the actions they could do. Neither wanted to do anything to put them at a disadvantage.

The clone tried to enter his mind time and again. Each time it stared into that paradoxical abyss, which simply increased its frustration and anger. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Anytime it looked at a person it could peer into their very being and snuff out its life with ease if it so desired.

Fortunately for John, it was clear that the clone didn’t have the psychic training he had gone through. Or the number of real-world street fights he had been in. It simply had never been in a life-or-death situation, nor had it been in a fair fight before. John surmised this was his edge, only time would tell whether or not he got to leverage it to his favor.

The clone used his mind to grab several scalpels and directed them toward John. But they stopped dead in the air about seven feet away from him. They hovered for a moment then fell to the ground. John shot his left foot forward to kick one of them and sent it flying back at the clone.

It didn’t predict this attack, nor was it prepared to deflect or dodge it. It was focused too much on why his attack didn’t work and not on his enemy. The scalpel scraped his cheek as it whizzed by its head. Unfortunately for John, the blade side hadn’t struck the clone, the end of the handle did.

The clone roared out, “THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

John roared as he charged at the clone. He grabbed a metal bench and threw it at the clone. It sent the bench flying to the side but that split second of not seeing his enemy opened itself up to John’s attack. In the slimmest of margins, it was able to dodge John’s attack and get off a semi-successful counter-kick to John’s abdomen.

Neither attack was as successful as the throwers had hoped, but they backed off once more and began circling the room again. John breathing deeply and roaring with bestial anger. The clone’s mood was changing by the moment, it was no longer possessed by its cocky overconfidence. This feral menace in front of it was a legitimate threat to its existence, but it was confounded about how to win the battle.

Once more it sent out a telekinetic attack and once more it failed to accomplish anything besides frustration. The clone’s mental state was degrading as it angrily tried to find an answer to John’s newfound ability. But it knew that John had no psychic capabilities anymore. Of all the knowledge that was poured into his brain, this was what stood out the most. His gene father had effectively self-castrated himself over a year ago.

The clone, despite initially being in a near orgasmic delight in the unexpected fight with the marines and seemingly initially with John as well, was losing its patience. This could be a huge advantage for John if he could leverage it. The clone knew the tide had turned against it, it began formulating an escape plan as the two circled around the room together.

Sergeant Dixon then spoke over the station's com systems, “Lieutenant, intel is secured. Repeat, intel is secured.”

John smiled as his demeanor changed as he spoke in a gravelly yet derisive tone to the clone, “What a pathetic copy of me they made.”

“What? How?” the clone stepped back, clearly confused, “You’re feral, less than a man.”

“Oh, I’m no animal. I may be as brutal as they can be, but I’ve not lost control today. This place and your existence are affronts to me. You offend me by never honing those wonderful gifts of yours. You think they are for killing and nothing else. You are nothing more than a pathetic schoolyard bully. This dance is over, it’s time for you to die.”

“NEVER!” the clone roared.

John took a step back but then everything that wasn’t bolted down in the room was thrown at John. For the first time since he maimed himself, he let out a blast of psychic-like energy. Everything the wave touched instantly fell to the ground. But the clone had other plans.

He picked up his helmet and ran out of the room while opening a channel to his marines, “Clone-Alpha is on the move, pursuing him. Fall back outside of the facility.”

John cursed at the clone for throwing the kitchen sink at him. Literally, there was a sink in that shit he threw at John. Thankfully the clone was running away from where the marines massed. This was clearly its exit strategy.

“Sir, according to the schematics there is a hangar where you and the clone are going,” Sergeant Aakre said.

“Delta squad has eyes on it,”

John smiled, “Work with the air assets and get a drone or fighter to hover outside it with air to ground missiles. Paint the door. Wait for my call.”

“Yes sir!” the marines said in unison.

8:03 Marine Command Center – CNS Vigilant

The room was overcapacity by twenty souls, if not more. Each terminal was occupied by someone working at a feverish pitch. The center of the room had a holographic layout of the facility. Dots represented each marine on location.

“Two are confirmed KIA, one is seriously wounded,” a lieutenant said.

“What are their prospects?” Captain Ward asked sternly.

“Broken arm with some minor internal bleeding as a result of that. Suffered a massive psychic attack. Not expected to be life-threatening though. They already moved Lance Corporal Anderson to the hospital at the colony.”

“Fucking Lief,” Ward said under her breath, “This is going sideways because of him.”

Colonel Peretz heard the quiet outburst, “Captain, what were the projected accepted casualties for this operation?”

“Five dead and ten injured, but…”

“Captain, your dislike of the lieutenant is clouding your objectivity. Furthermore, you know damn well command is not to interfere unless there was an egregious violation of orders.”

“Murdering defenseless scientists doesn’t count?” Ward said in a highly disrespectful tone, “Apologies sir, but murdering those scientists absolutely counts as an egregious violation. And what about that program of his?”

“Have to admit that VI of his was both interesting and surprising,” Peretz allowed a smile to form.

Mizrahi was staring at the board, “Captain Ward, how would you feel if a bunch of clones of yourself was the cannon fodder. Though we will have a conversation with him regarding his actions. That only two Marines are dead is a near miracle, given a near-perfect clone of him is the enemy.”

Captain Ward pressed a button on the central terminal. A light green semicircle covered the central part of the room. Nothing could be heard from outside of the bubble. Ward let out a sigh before talking about an incredibly sensitive topic.

“That leads me to my next questions, sir,” Captain Ward looked directly at General Mizrahi, “The marines are saying the clone possessed telekinetic abilities. Lieutenant Lief is officially classified as a Level 4B telepath. Not even Naval Intelligence has the clout to ignore the Telekinesis Act of 2136.”

Colonel Peretz looked at his commanding officer with a worried look, “That bodes poorly for the lieutenant if true.”

General Mizrahi nodded, “Lieutenant Lief has some explaining to do to us. And only us. We’ll be bringing back some of the corpses of the clones for investigative purposes,” he looked at both the Captain and Colonel, “Besides, it stands to reason that a clone that could develop psychic abilities may have done so differently than John did naturally. And there is no proof on record that he ever had those gifts.”

“With respect sir, his power level was grossly underreported,” Colonel Peretz said somberly, “The combination of rumors and circumstantial evidence I’ve heard is hard to ignore. Assuming that’s the case then it wouldn’t be a stretch that he simply refused to take part in the tests.”

“What was the other item, Captain?” Mizrahi asked in a grandfatherly tone.

“Why is he the only ‘officer’,” Ward used air quotes, “on the ground. Each of those fireteams should have had their CO with them.”

“Naval Intelligence gave this mission a low probability of success. They also recommended their one-time star take part,” Peretz all but spat the last sentence out.

Captain Ward sighed, “So they wanted to burn him. To what end? Destroy his career? They were the ones that openly attacked the fleets for their behavior. Now, this?”

“Jokes on them, they seem to have neglected how successful their agent was for them,” Peretz smiled, “Or how driven he’d be to succeed for us.”

“We will all have an opportunity to discuss all these things with him,” Mizrahi motioned to Ward to shut off the privacy mode, “Can a shuttle jump into slip space in an atmosphere?”

A Navy commander along the wall behind Mizrahi stood up and faced the general, “Yes it can. But not while docked within the facility though sir.”

The officers continued to watch and communicate where necessary with the troops on the ground. The clone had reached the shuttle bay. John was stopped outside of it, presumably trying to open the door. Soon, they hoped, the mission would be over, but the victor of the last engagement hadn’t yet been decided.

8:11 Outside Shuttle Bay

John was pacing back and forth outside of a large double door to the shuttle bay. The clone had managed to evade or deflect all of the incoming fire John had shot at it. And despite closing tantalizingly close he managed to get in and close the door a second before he got there.

“Open the fucking door!” John growled into the coms.

“Working on it, sir,” a harried private first class said, “There got it.”

The door opened and John walked in with the butt of his battle rifle pressed into his shoulder. He slowed his pace and began scanning everywhere. There were two shuttles in the bay. One had its rear ramp lowered, the other didn’t.

The clone had wisely shut his transceiver off, so John couldn’t track its movements anymore. John was frustrated so he shot at the cockpit of the shuttle with its ramp down. The high explosive rounds couldn’t defeat void-worthy ceramite hull plates or viewing windows.

“Fuck it, I’ll blow it up from the inside,” John grabbed a pair of high explosive grenades and threw them one by one into the shuttle.

Two fiery explosions rocked the interior of the shuttle. Numerous internal components were burning inside. The fire suppression system of the bay itself was triggered, but it was hopeless to stop the fire within the shuttle.

Naturally, the other shuttle’s engines turned on and the bay doors opened up. The clone looked at John through the port window of the cockpit and waved at him. John responded by flicking him off.

“Do it,” John said over an open channel for all to hear.

The shuttle engines spooled up and it began to inch forward. Just as it increased power once more four missiles struck the hinge mechanism of the hangar bay door. The top half of the door stopped briefly, then fell down into the closed position.

The shuttle’s rear stabilizer slammed into the door bending it slightly, but the door didn’t give way. The control system onboard immediately began the engine shutdown procedure immediately and it crashed back onto the bay floor. In doing so the port wing was bent badly and the port engine suffered significant damage, to the point it didn’t appear like it was going to fire up again. The starboard door opened up and an angry clone jumped to the bay floor.

“You fucking asshole. You have ruined everything for me. I am going to enjoy gutting you,” it said as it threw its black helm at the wreckage.

John flicked the safety to a smiley face and brought it to bear. His finger pulled the chunky trigger, and a barrage of high explosive rounds went flying at the clone. The clone was deflective one round after another as he ran towards John.

The clone, either unaware of what things were or had been too focused on killing John, hadn’t taken notice of his surroundings. That made John smile as he continued to fire at his clone. John sent three rounds down and to the left of the clone.

The clone didn’t affect those rounds. The first just missed the large red barrel. But the second round pierced its hull and exploded inside. A massive shockwave and fireball shot out from where the barrel, storing some sort of flammable and explosive fuel, engulfing and sending the clone to the far side of the hangar.

John pressed the magazine release and loaded a fresh mag. He was about to turn when another barrel was sent flying at him. It caught the end of the barrel and ripped the gun out of his hand. The clone was screaming as he closed the distance.

“YOU’RE DEAD!”

The clone had a crazed look on its charred face. It didn’t appear to have a right ear left; the right third of his face was covered in third-degree burns. Its right eye was twitching, either in anger or from the pain it was feeling. Truthfully to John, neither reason really mattered much to him, he was going to end that twitching and its life once and for all.

The two ran into one another and a proper scrap began. John dodged the first attack and countered with a punch to the side. But it glanced off the lower part of the breastplate. The clone grabbed John’s gorget and pulled it down. The clone’s knee grazed off the side of John’s helmet. John retaliated by throwing an uppercut, which the clone took a step back just as his right hand would’ve connected.

The clone raged and let out a psychic blast as he took a step back to gain some distance. The attack just washed around John but didn’t pass through him. John started to laugh, which caught the clone off-guard.

“Why, how is this…” the clone was interrupted by John’s counterattack.

John gathered and channeled his psychic energy within him. Unlike the clone, he was channeling it through to his right fist. It looked down and was horrified at the tears in reality that were ebbing and flowing around his clenched fist.

The clone completely forgot it was in a fight to the death and took a step back and stammered, “How… is that… possible?”

The tears grew larger and larger and engulfed John entirely. Everything was being warped around. The deck plate appeared to be bent, fluid, and normal all at once. Then suddenly the tears were condensed down into a churning black ball, no bigger than a baseball, that John threw at the clone. It recoiled in horror as it closed the difference until it exploded when it “touched” the clone's armor.

The clone took a couple more steps back as John confidently walked toward it. Whatever it was that struck him couldn’t have been good. But it had no idea what that attack was. None at all. It was properly afraid for the first time in its short existence. Its opponent was not a merciful one and appeared to be the superior. But there was still fight left. Even a weaker animal that was cornered could still win the fight.

The clone smiled and prepared another psychic attack. Nothing happened though. No psychic energy could be felt, nothing could be channeled. Stranger yet, no voices could be heard anymore. Those irritating marine voices that were just noticeable were gone.

“What…”

John pulled off his helmet and stared at the clone, “You have been weighed and have been found to be wanting.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?” the clone screamed as spittle spat out of his mouth, “I AM THE PINNACLE OF EVOLUTION.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

John ran at the clone. It tried to dodge what it thought was a punch but instead, John jumped at and planted a kick to the side of the clone. He followed it up with a backhand that shredded its left ear.

The clone drew his knife and attacked John with it. John grabbed its wrist and punched at the elbow, shattering the bones and bending the arm in the wrong way. It howled in pain as it dropped the knife. It tried to punch John with its free arm but John deflected it.

John let the clone go, which surprised the clone as it screamed, “DIE!!!!”

The clone still did not know what had just happened. One last impotent attack was all it could muster. John caught the arm and threw the clone over his back into the wall. As the clone was in the air John drew his pistol and aimed it at the clone.

One round was all he fired, but that was all that was needed to put this farce to an end. Just as the clone struck the wall an oversized high explosive round struck the clone in its right cheek. The explosion vaporized a softball-sized chunk of skin, muscle, bone, and brain matter. The clone slumped over dead; its black power armor was shutting down rapidly.

“Eve, power down the amplifier,” John said as he walked over to the clone, “And begin recording and transmitting data.”

He pulled the clone's leg to drag him away from the wall. Then he pushed the clone onto its back with his foot. A quick scan showed that there was no more heartbeat. John walked over and slammed his right foot down on the clone’s head. He walked over and picked up one of its feet and began dragging it.

“Alpha down. Hostiles appear to be dealt with,” John said to his marines.

“Reinforcements just landed. They are going to secure the facility.”

“Understood, good work today.”

John showed up on the external platform ten minutes later. His armor was a proper biohazard. The reinforcements directed John to the impromptu cleaning station set up to disinfect the bloody Marine power armor.

John stopped short of the cleaning station and hollered at the marines that were about to shoot his trophy, “STAND DOWN!”

All of the Marines present were surprised by the bestial fury they heard in his voice. They froze in their tracks, not knowing what to do or what kind of punishment there would be for failing to follow orders. The awkward silence was cut mercifully short.

“I know you want nothing more than to destroy that body. Cut it into pieces and toss it over the side of the mountain. It deserves that disrespect and violence for what it did to you and yours. I can’t let you do that though,” John said in a pained tone.

“Relieve it of its power without damaging the body any farther. Unfortunately, we need to study that abomination. Get it into a body bag and transport it to the ship for research. Fetch the blue bastard that I didn’t kill and a couple of mostly intact dead ones from the mountain.”

“Sir, why would you want to do that?” Sergeant Aakre asked.

John shook his head in disgust, “I don’t want to. I want to atomize this god-forsaken place. But it’s evidence, and it might tell us more about these sick fucks. Remember what these assholes did and use it against the next dumbass that tries to do anything to us.”

John turned and walked into the cleaning station. A dozen high-pressure nozzles rotated about covering every inch of the armor and armored padding. Bone chips, flesh, blood, and other human matter were forcibly removed from his armor. Then a special mix of alcohol and bleach cleaning solvent finished the disinfecting process.

John dragged the body bag onto the shuttle last and stowed it near the cockpit, which he was standing outside of. He gestured to the pilot that was looking back that they were good to go. He sat down and locked him into a seat and rested his helmet on the bulkhead. A blank stare at the ceiling was all John could muster to do.

The shuttle ride back to the carrier was a quiet and uncomfortable one. The marines didn’t talk much, despite the overwhelming success of the mission. The loss of two of their own wore on them. They were friends and comrades, and now two of their brotherhood were no more. There wouldn’t be any more missions with them in the future. Worse yet, they were killed by an evil clone of their CO.

The ship therapists were going to be working overtime to help the troops understand the shit that had gone down today. Unfortunately for all present, the easy part was done. Reports, debriefs, more reports, and meetings were all in their future.