Petra was amazed that the Governor was going to hear either of them out. He was more of a shoot first, ask questions later. At this point, he trusted neither of them. There was no time to waste, but he had already made one tragic betrayal against his leader, and he wasn't about to make another, so he bit his lower lip tight.

“Allow me to change my face back," explained one of the Vincent doubles, "I will change it back to its original state. Once I do that, I can prove to you who I am. Vincent #G220 Court Report Interpreter.”

John blinked looking over to the other Shackleton who snorted in disgust, placing a hand on his hip and pointing a finger at him, “Don’t let him do this. He is up to something! Please don’t buy into this distraction-”

“Please, Mr. Woods, there’s not much time,” the first Chancellor dressed in black interrupted, “I can end the question right here and now,” he continued lifting his hands up for permission to reach the access point, “As an older model, the real Shackleton cannot make such a transformation. Precisely why he is protesting,” he urged.

The other Shackleton stepped forward a few paces and John took note, pointing the gun in his direction. The Chancellor stopped and lifted his hands so that his sleeves drooped exposing his pale arms, “He’s lying to you. This is all a diversion."

“He’s stalling you with doubt and confusion. We have to move now! No doubt more soldiers are coming!” the other Shackleton insisted.

John looked back and forth between their pleading eyes. Petra walked up beside him and nodded seeming to read his mind.

“Okay, both of you show us...at the same time.. clearly one of you is lying and that will be immediately evident,” John insisted waving the gun at them. With that, a sense of relief washed over the first Shackleton’s face. He nodded in agreement while briefly eyeing his counterpart for his reaction. By this time, he had reached behind his back slowly and the second Shackleton’s eyes widened like saucers as he recognized what the other was up to. Petra looked frantically between the two Shackleton’s unsure of what was about to happen.

As the first Shackleton who had originally entered the room pulled out two weapons from behind and inside of his back of vest, the second Shackleton leaped upon him in a blaze of red flowing cloth, well before he could fire off a shot directly at the men. Vincent grabbed hold of the real Shackleton’s two arms that were raised high with weapons ready to fire and the two of them spun around slowly, groaning and grunting in a tug-of-war over the weapons.

Petra came upon the Governor looking perplexed but quickly realized it was dangerous to shoot now when the two Shackleton’s were so close together since one of them was clearly innocent. Petra pulled out a knife from the inside of his lower shoe, took aim, and successfully lodged it in the real Shackleton’s back.

“I’m a better marksman with a knife,” he muttered and Woods nodded pleasantly surprised.

Shackleton immediately pulled back his shoulders blades as the stabbing pain seized him, and he swung around quickly to pull out the knife. Vincent lost hold of one of Shackleton's arms as he did so. The result was that one of the weapons discharged from Shackleton’s mishandling of it, sending a burst of a green laser beam toward the direction of the two men.

The Governor with a grave, shocked expression on his face dropped his gun and gripped the right side of his chest. Petra rushed to him as John Woods sat down on the cold floor like a doll which had lost its footing. Blood was beginning to seep through his shirt.

“Damn it,” Petra said in a hushed tone, “Governor, I’ll get you out of here.” John winced in pain and managed to look up at Petra and shook his head at his persistence. He was impressed how quickly the young man had moved from betrayer to hero.

“Petra, the gun,” John muttered pointing to the gun on the floor a few feet away. Petra, biting his bottom lip, had left the Governor’s side to reach for the gun on the floor only feet away from the wrestling duo when more shots had rung out echoing within the chamber with a fierce, explosive whine. The first shot quickly sent the young Petra backward in a fury of electric green and red. The red was the blood and skin from his wounded head that followed along with him as he landed on top of the Governor who moaned underneath the weight of Petra’s body. Before the gun landed on the floor sliding back near the two fighting humanoids, a second shot that had went off hit the metal plate of the vent sending a deflected laser beam across the room, which then struck Vincent across the front of his thigh.

Vincent stumbled backward wincing in pain and grabbing his knee, and Shackleton observed victoriously until the exchange of glances took an unusual twist. A very strange look came over the Chancellor’s face as he fixed his eyes on Vincent’s wound. Vincent looked down and immediately recognized the red colored fluid seeping out of his wound through his torn clothes. It was human blood. Humanoids only had white colored fluids. This meant one thing: He too was a hybrid. It all made sense now; The neck muscle response to stress, and the pulsing in his neck muscles was blood, human blood pressure; His ability to have compassion for the Governor to the point of fighting for him. Indeed, he was part human too. With a hand on the wound, the newly revealed hybrid refused to keep eyes off the Chancellor. He couldn’t let this shocking reality strike him down or the next strike would be fatal.

“This makes much more sense now, doesn’t it?” the Chancellor sneered, “Another traitorous hybrid!” The Chancellor then charged at the droid, but Vincent despised his own pain and leaped up to meet the Chancellor in mid-air. As the two of them landed on the hard floor, Vincent clawed after the gun and successfully knocked it away. As Vincent grabbed hold of the arm, Shackleton grimaced and threw the hybrid off into the opposite cell wall with superhuman strength. The sound of crumbling brick echoed in the chamber. The Chancellor quickly rose to his feet to meet Vincent. Vincent himself somehow managed to pull himself out from the indention in the wall in which he had been cast into. Despite the blow, Vincent met the Chancellor with equal force, unabated. He was even able to press Shackleton into the opposite wall. The evil humanoid tried to pummel the hybrid in the head with his other free hand, but Vincent dodged each strike. Shackleton tried a succession of three more blows to the hybrid’s head and only turned up making crevices in the rocky wall and peeling off his own skin. The exposed, torn skin revealed a metallic like bone structure lubricated in white fluids.

On another attempted blow to the face, Vincent stopped it with his other hand, and he now held both of the Chancellors hands steady in front of him with tremendous force. Both their hands vibrated under the push and pull resistance. Shackleton made a twisted smile and extended two fingers from both griped hands, which were conveniently pointed toward Vincent’s eyes. The fingers spun and picked up speed shedding skin as they turned into blades whirling around the now exposed metal joint. Older models like the Chancellor had a number of appendages that acted like a human version of a Swiss Army knife—none too convenient for him at the moment. The blades spun and then stretched out toward Vincent’s eyes. The more they spun the more the blades increased in length and girth. The Chancellor emanated a wicked that smile that progressively curved upward as the blades came closer the hybrid’s face.

At the very same time these metal blades were moving ever closer to Vincent’s eyes, the hybrid still managed to see, out of the corner of his eye, John Woods pushing up on the dead body of his fallen comrade. There was a sense of grief for the human that quickly turned into anger for retribution, which Vincent never let himself feel before. Driven by this new energy, the hybrid was suddenly able to bend Shackleton’s left wrist backward just as the finger blades were about to plunge deep into his eye sockets. The Chancellor hollered out in dismay as the inner parts of his left arm whined to a screeching halt and sprayed white fluid. The Chancellor’s left knee practically buckled in response to the disruption to his system. Then Vincent took the Chancellor’s other arm and broke it at the elbow and bent it backwards too, sending the elder humanoid down on both knees. White liquid dripped from the humanoids arm joints and the sound of mechanical clicking noises frantically broke the ominous energy in the room with a sense of finality. The only sound in the cell now was that of a machine slowing down to its eventual death.

Vincent with the precision of a master engineer moved behind the Chancellor, took his head in the palm of his hands and snapped the humanoid’s neck. Now, not only were his arms dangling and lifeless but so was his head, which flung backward as Vincent walked away. White fluid shot out of the Chancellor’s mouth and his body eventually collapsed to the floor. The once all powerful, highly distinguished Chancellor of Acropolis now laid there like a simple, lifeless blob of silicone and metal parts.

Vincent still in his Shackleton form rushed over to his wounded client. Vincent got behind the Governor on the floor and held him up as the fellow hybrid gripped his bloodied chest, wincing in pain.

“I am so sorry, Governor. I am not programmed with medical capabilities though I wish to help you. I tried to save you, but it appears I have failed you.”

The Governor looked up and smiled at the hybrid’s distraught expression, “No, you have saved me. All of us.” The Governor looked down at Vincent’s wound with surprise. “You are more human than we thought, Huh? There are more of us, Vincent. I am not the last and neither will you be," Woods grimaced in pain but chose to speak over the pain, “You have ti take care of that wound. Save yourself and the others citizens of Galatia.”

Seemingly not hearing him, Vincent rambled on, “You are the most superior human I ever witnessed. I never thought a human.., a hybrid... I never thought that such superior actions, that you were, well, you know, possible.”

John laughed and then coughed from the laugh, and finally shrugged, “I think that was a compliment? It is our human side that makes you truly something special. Don’t forget that.”

“Indeed. Now, I should try to get you out of here before-”

“Nah, come on now, you are smarter than that. You have a more important mission. You’ll need to take care of that wound, first though.”

“I can’t let you go, not like this. You are too important. To me, to all of us. I won't leave you here.”

“Vincent, I think you would agree that since, in a moment, I will be out of this body, it isn’t logical for you to risk your life trying to carry me like a piece of luggage.”

The hybrid looked frantically about the room contemplating ideas. John coughed hard with a little blood forming in the corner of his mouth that he wiped away. He sank a little lower to the ground. Vincent looked on with a sense of panic trying to draw the Governor back upward from the ground and into himself with a half measure of success.

“I don’t know where to go, what to do. How can you be so calm? Are you not afraid to die? Please, Governor, stay with me!”

The Governor looked down and an expression of renewed compassion came over him--again, that peace that transcended Vincent’s understanding he had seen so many times come across the hybrid's face in such challenging moments.

“What changed your mind and brought you to try to rescue me, Vincent?”

“You were not guilty and the trial was not a fair one. I had to do something. It is only logical and my duty to enforce the higher tenants of our law."

“YI have no doubt you really have seen more than your fair share of unjust trials...what else?” John coughed and then continued, “What really brought you here?”

“I am not exactly positive.., but, I suppose it was the compassion you showed, the restraint, and sincerity even in the face of betrayal. I have only seen humans allow their emotions to ruin their cause, but you showed a side of human emotion I had not seen before.”

“And what side was that?”

“The ability to transform others,” Vincent looked over to the dead body of Petra, moved by the idea of a betrayer becoming a hero. The Governor smiled for a moment before wincing in pain.

“Governor, I am so sorry. What can I do to help make this easier?”

After the pain subsided some, John blinked several times digesting the release from the pain for a moment before speaking again. “Whether you know it or not, you witnessed spirit.”

“Yes, spirit. I know this term but I don’t comprehend it. You mean human spirit?”

“Spirit is more than human emotions. It’s a hard concept for you to grasp. You may think of it as wisdom, compassion and love all wrapped into one ball of energy that embraces you like you are embracing me right now.”

Vincent moved by the statement grabbed him tighter and pulled him up slightly as he had slid down again. “I’m not sure I understand but it sounds wonderful. Is this something of the Christ figure you reference at times?"

John smiled warmly, “You would do well to study Christ and others.”

“Hmm. I definitely feel an unexplainable energy from you.”

“Yes, you feel it from me and you will feel it after I’m gone. Think of it like a computer program. You will become it and it will become a part of you should you let it. Emotions and spirit is what your government has kept you from...tried to take from you through programming, propaganda, media, and you can’t let that happen-.” Vincent looked upon the Governor who now coughed up more blood. He wiped the blood off John’s chin with his own sleeve this time. “Vincent, you asked what you can do for me...”

“Yes, Governor, anything!”

“Go and Lead my people.”

“Lead your people? How could I?”

“Lead my people, Vincent. The how of it will come to you.”

“That is not a logical conclusion, John. As well, your people, would not have me. Honestly, I don’t know that I would have them.”

Governor Woods shook his head in protest, “Vincent, who I am is in you now. We are both connected now, to the same Spirit."

“I downloaded your case file so in a sense I suppose that is true--”

“No,” the Governor insisted strongly and closed his eyes for a long time. It was so long a spell that Vincent shook him to see if he was still alive. The Governor opened eyes as if he had been disturbed from a deep sleep and then spoke for a final time; “Bring peace between humans and humanoids. I am in you now..the spirit in me is in you ...just like any computer program you have engaged with.” Vincent stared at him quietly. “Lead my people,” the Governor whispered. Vincent was unable to speak as the man drifted off into his final sleep. He held him, rocking back and forth in unspeakable grief. It was all he could do. All that he had left to offer.

What would become of him? Where would he go? The sound of boots smacking the hard pavement forced Vincent to face those military soldiers were coming and now more than ever he would have to think of something quick.

Galatia--Days Later

The central headquarters for the human contingent in Galatia was camouflaged deep inside a mountain covered in snow and ice. Four men covered in layers of snow gear from head-to-toe rode in a sleek, silver hovercraft down through the tunnels of the mountain. Metal torches that emitted particles of blue light illuminated the pathway that seemed to had been carved out by a giant snake winding its way through the mountain. The tunnel took them to the armory where forces were gathered gearing up for their next strike.

The large, cavernous armory with icy fangs stabbing downward from the many ledges above was brimming with soldiers in thick coats of white and gray. They wore fuzzy hats of green and with brown fur earflaps. Busy and preoccupied, everyone made way for the unusual site of a hovercraft pulling into the weapons area. As the crew of four pulled into the middle of the armory, three men who appeared to have some authority approached the vehicle. The tallest of the three came forward, General Gabe Lightfoot, ahead of the two others with an unhappy expression on his face. As the four men exited their hovercraft, the tall leader in waiting spoke with a voice as rough as sandpaper.

“What in the world are you men doing pulling this transport in here now!?! This better be important. We have a battle to avenge Governor Woods.”

Two of the men appeared to look at one another before they both took off their hoods and peeled off the outer layers covering their face. They were both younger men with dark hair and scurvy beards. A man with a stocky build and rounded face stepped forward to speak on their behalf.

“I believe it is important or we wouldn’t have driven in here. We found someone wandering about in the outer rim, someone of importance. I brought him right to you.”

General Lightfoot looked upon the men with only a slight decrease to his scowl. With a sigh, he threw up a hand in a gesture for them to show him this prisoner while he looked away to grab some patience out of thin air. He was all but ready to throw the lot of them into the stockade. The two men looked behind them and bided a third man who stepped forward out of the hovercraft. He walked with a slight limp and a bandaged hand--all of which intrigued the General. The mysterious prisoner unraveled his head protection to reveal the face of Governor John Woods.

“Governor Woods! We thought you were dead!” The General walked up excitingly to the Governor. He placed his hands on his shoulders.

“So I’ve heard. No, I’m very much alive.” The two embraced. "A fellow hybrid, who I owe my life to, nursed me back to health."

“Sir, when everyone heard about your words at the trial...and then you and Petra’s death...it changed things, it changed us,” he said softly, “We are gearing up to go to war, to make them pay the ultimate price! We are at your bidding sir!”

“Well that need not happen now. I’m back.”

“Need not happen. Sir, with all due respect, the wheels are in motion and after all the humanoids have done to us, it is not without just cause. I think it is best we go forward. If you were to send the troops out, it will be even a greater motivation knowing they have a leader like you behind them once again.”

“If I did, I would be sending them to their deaths. Acropolis now knows of the underground tunnels here in Ice Valley and our paths over the mountains. They are on their way to crush us at this very moment. I got ahead of them but not that far ahead. We must move out of here quickly.”

General Lightfoot stood with a horrified look on his face. “But how?...”

“That’s not important. We can talk about that later. What we need to do now is to regroup and talk about new strategies. I have something else in mind. A new tactic but for now withdraw the troops south of Ice Valley, we have to get out of this mountain.”

“Sir, yes but the blizzard tonight-”

“Percisely: Fierce. I know, and that is the only thing that will stop their machines from being able to track us to our new location. We must move now!”

As General Lightfoot rushed around like a bumblebee in a hive calling for the word to spread that their troops were to move south, Vincent stood watching in a somber mood behind the manufactured face of John Woods. His hand still throbbed from underneath the bandage from having cut out his barcode. He was now more than a model number for the first time, and that felt empowering even if it meant separation from Acropolis. Still, he felt utterly naked without the Governor and yet ironically surrounded by more bodies than ever who were no doubt going to be loyal to him because he had assumed the Governor's identity. However, he knew, he wasn’t them. He was an imposter trying to install a false hope, to live out the will of a dead leader of the resistance. He saw all the weaponry from large guns to laser cannons and explosives and had become disgusted that these weapons would be aimed upon his own people. After all, he was still part humanoid and though the government was corrupt that didn’t mean all the citizens were.

Vincent knew what John had wanted. He knew if John was here he would be fighting for a way to bridge the divide between the humans and humanoids. He could almost feel John’s presence within him in this very moment rousing some compassion even amidst his own disgust for this weaponry. The humanoid could imagine the Governor responding with something about him having an opportunity like no one else in the history of this great war. Vincent wanted to honor the man and live out the call he had felt that day with his fellow hybrid dying in his arms but some other part of him was stopping him in his tracks. It was another awareness. John was a part of him, but he wasn’t all of him. Maybe, Vincent entertained, he had let himself become deceived by humans once again. After all, their irrational senses, which they labeled in grandiose terms, were often a well-crafted means of justifying themselves. How could they be trusted? And what chance did he have pulling this off and getting these bands of rebels to actually make peace? The chances were slim to none. Even those within Acropolis and outlaying quadrants were blinded by their narrow experiences of humans. How would he get them to make a truce?

The weight of it all was heavy to bear, but Vincent was aware suddenly of his own power too. He held the power to determine the fate of humans and humanoid-kind and influence the outcome of the war toward his own advantage. And, really, he entertained, who better than someone who had experienced both sides like himself? The fibers in his neck tingled and he stroked the back of his neck. Since he first existed, he had power only within the limits of his assigned job but now he was in a position of true power. He wasn’t sure he wanted to take these humans the route John had proposed. Maybe there was a better route, he pondered. Maybe he should rule these humans and humanoids the way they should be ruled--a way made of his own design.

Vincent who had been looking down, deep in thought, lifted his head slightly to what came as a needed distraction to the dilemma. Way off in a far corner of the armory, he spied a tattered doll like the one he had seen in the war. He was reminded yet again of the sense of human need who, like this doll, were in some ways innocent (if not naive), exposed, and battered. He could see they were tired as they ran about making preparations, running on fumes of adrenaline and anxiety. He felt too the struggle within himself on what route he would take these last remaining humans. After a group of men congregated in his line of vision of the doll, and he contemplated human hunger of the soul, the men moved on but the doll was gone. He wondered if it had been there in the first place. It was then that he heard these words ring loudly within his being, nearly knocking him over:

“Vincent, Lead my people.”