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It sailed high through the air, and at first he was sure he hadn't set his secondary barrel to the right power level then the grenade descended and disappeared. “Crap!” he exclaimed before it exploded.

The grenade went off and to his surprise debris from the inside of the ship filled the air above. “Nice shot!” Oz called out.

“Yes! I thought it went past the mark for a sec-” he was interrupted a bolt of blue energy caught him full in the face.

It was near impossible for Oz to remain under cover as his best friend crumpled into the short service trench just meters away, but there were several military bots on their way and he knew they were watching, hoping that he'd take the risk. “Jason!” he called out. He leaned out from under cover for a split second and shot half blindly at where he was sure the military bots should be. Oz didn't get a chance to check and see if his rounds hit anything, the sounds of the machine's assault on his cover filled the air more loudly than his own weapon and he was forced back behind full cover.

They'd be on him sooner than expected. “Jason!” He called out as loudly as he could.

The sight of his friend standing for less than three seconds, opening fire with his rifle on full automatic and striking the approaching bots several times couldn't be more welcome.

Oz took the opportunity to add to the hail of white hot rounds as he stood up from behind cover and emptied what remained of his primary clip into the dozen marching bots. They didn't move mindlessly, but rolled and drifted to avoid fire without colliding and took a split second bead before firing back.

The military bots were as well organized as any fully trained infantry unit and and each one of them could take a lot of damage. By Oz's estimation he had shot one of them at least six times and it was still just as agile and deadly as before despite the scorches and holes in its armour.

Both Oz and Jason ducked back behind cover. “We've got two minutes if they keep moving in.” Oz shouted.

“Less. Ideas?” Jason asked.

Oz loaded his last reserve clip and took a deep breath as he listened to the internal systems draw a charge. He set the focus and round strength as high as they could go, knowing he'd get twenty one shots out of a clip that could normally fire for days. “Give me a distraction!”

There was a moment's pause before Jason held his rifle above his head and fired wildly, sending hundreds of blue white streaks through the air roughly in the direction of the approaching mechanized troops.

Oz stepped partially out from his cover and took aim at one of the automations in the lead and squeezed a burst out at him. The first two shots missed as the bot rolled to the side but the third hit the thin android squarely in the chest blowing it open and sending debris through the air behind it for several meters.

He was just stepping back behind cover when the soldiers returned fire, hitting his left hand, his arm and his rifle. Oz fell behind cover and checked the damage. His rifle had been destroyed, his hand had been burned bone deep and his suit was already dispensing localized anaesthetics to his entire left arm. “I'm alive, but I'm done!” he called out angrily.

“Do you think they take prisoners?” Jason shouted out a moment later.

Oz drew his sidearm, set it to the highest power level and sat back against the concrete slab. The pain from his left arm was fading and he already couldn't feel his hand. His attention was drawn to the sky just then, where the setting sun behind them was sending rosy red, gold and yellow colours against the cliff side. “Wish I could get a better look at that sunset,” he found himself saying as he listened to the steady, persistent footsteps behind drawing closer, closer.

He was startled out of his lulled state as streaks of light and the explosions of heavy weapons fire started coming from the resort front in force. Someone else was firing at the military androids who threatened to overtake them and judging from the explosions and the creaking and cracking sounds of the melting sand behind them they had a great deal more firepower.

The Freeground Judiciary Council

None of it was happening as she would have chosen. Ayan couldn't stop thinking about her unique position as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. It was a space reserved for Petitioners to make themselves ready before addressing Freeground's highest court. The dim lighting and dark wood textured walls were made to maintain calm, to quiet the nervousness that rose in most petitioners and it wasn't working. All the events of the last two weeks and the many realizations she'd made since waking filled Ayan's mind, overshadowed by her irrational fear of what the Council would have to tell her.

She was seen as an oddity, a scientific first that was an unwelcome shock to the scientific and medical community. Science fiction had speculated on someone just like her coming along but it was seen as an indirect route to an unnecessary goal. Thoughts of a genetically pure human had been abandoned long ago, when the genome had been mapped and advanced materializers became capable of producing living tissue from a purely digital pattern. No credible scientist or medical professional known in the community thought there was a need for a living, breathing template for a genetically pure human. That was until Doctor Anderson refused to let her go and it was partially that unwillingness that drove him to bring her back to life in a way that he was sure she would have chosen herself.

He was right. If she were given the choice to come back with genetic enhancements or with none at all she would choose the latter. Her life had been plagued by complications and considerations that were the direct results of genetic meddling. The struggle to just feel normal was a constant and as she aged her genetic flaws became more and more apparent until it was evident that she wouldn't live much longer. That was my old life. She reminded herself.

All my pain is gone, I have a long life ahead of me and I can even have children if I like, something that was just impossible before. There are so many possibilities now, I only hope the Council doesn't cut them away. If I could just tell them to put their judgement on hold until I've done everything I'd like then come back when I'm ready… she shook her head at the ridiculousness of the notion. “Pardon me, I know you've been talking about this for two weeks, but could you just stop for a few decades while I go take a tour of the galaxy, maybe find out if I fancy Jake as much as I did Jonas, have a couple children then settle in on a long range exploration vessel before you pass final judgement?” She asked her reflection. Now that's the speech I should be giving today, pity they wouldn't consider it. Funny thing is, aside from the dimpled face in the mirror, blonde hair and a few new curves I feel just like my old self. Healthier, sure, but really if I could convince them there was so little difference. “How do you express that?” she asked herself aloud as she stared into the blue eyes reflected in the mirror.

Less and less she reminded herself that she was the second incarnation of Ayan Rice as her body felt more and more her own. The memories she inherited were filled with medical treatments, collapses and problems she'd never have to worry about again and that was a realization that was still sinking in and she couldn't help but feel new. When Doctor Anderson gave her the digital files containing the time lapsed footage of her in the artificial womb things started to come into focus. The playback was set to some of the ancient Earth music he had played over the thirty years he stood vigil as she developed from just a few cells to a foetus and into a full grown woman.

She couldn't help but watch it on a daily basis for the first week. Doctor Anderson and his colleagues thought it would help with her own mental image, and it did. They were certain that watching that footage would give her the sense that she had been given a second chance, and again, they were right. What they didn't predict were the questions. There were the normal ones; “How did you do it?” The detailed answers to that one were in the medical file, and with the help of a scientific encyclopaedia she was able to figure it out.