About two years ago I started doing beta reads for T. J.
Quinn first for the Drogon Series and later the Cyborgs Reborn Series. I can
honestly say that I have enjoyed all her books, though the Cyborgs Reborn
Series is my personal favorite.
The series starts with Captain Lucas Jarcor, a soldier with
devastating injuries to his legs. Doctors told them they had to be amputated.
However, if he agrees, they can rebuild build them with some new technology.
Understandably, Jarcor is eager have them do it if it means he can keep his
legs and walk again.
What they don’t tell him is that the changing into a cyborg
will strip him of his legal status as a human being, and his military rank. He
became government property, in essence, a slave. All of the cyborgs are made
from enhanced human embryos, but with the means for the military to control them through their cybernetics.
Though biologically human, they were used as slaves to fight a war against alien invaders.
.
Jarcor decides to play along while he figures things out
before he makes his escape. While he is out free, he meets Sabrina, and they
fall in love. But Jarcor can’t stay he has much to do to free the other
cyborgs.
The prequel ends in a bit of a cliff hanger, but Jarcor’s
work to help the other cyborgs is a recurring theme throughout the series. He
paves the way for other cyborgs to escape.
As I read through the Cyborg Reborn Series, I discovered that
T.J. came up with things I hadn't thought of even as I was preparing to start
my own cyborg series. Her writing style is a little different than other
writers, but every story I've read from her list has pulled me in with the
characters, plot, and world building.
Because we work together on some projects and beta read
others, I never review her books on Amazon. Since I blog about other authors, I
decided it was time to speak up.
T.J. Quinn is a superb storyteller. If you haven’t read her
books, now would be a good time to begin. Since her new book is a spin-off of
the Cyborgs Reborn series, that would be a good place to start.
The following is an excerpt:
Jarcor has nearly finished healing from the procedures to
restore his legs and he wanted to try them out before the medical team deemed
him ready.
He was trying some martial
arts kicks when the door was opened, and a startled nurse entered. “Hey, what
are you doing? You aren’t supposed to be out of bed,” she cried out, running to
meet him.
He stopped her, raising his
hand. “I’m fine. I haven't felt this good in a long time,” he assured her.
“Where’s the doctor? I want to talk to him.”
“I’ll go get him.” She
turned around and left the room.
Jarcor chuckled and walked
towards the window. It was around midday, the sun shining.
“Jarcor, you shouldn’t be
out of bed,” doctor number one said, as he entered the room.
“Doctor. I don’t think I
heard your name,” he replied, ignoring the doctor’s words.
“I’m Dr. Masterson. It’s
too soon for you to be out of bed,” the man answered, with a deep frown.
Jarcor only listened to his
name. Immediately, a lot of information filled in his mind about the man. His
full name, his curriculum, his family members and a lot more. He had no idea
where it came from and he was confident
he hadn't met the man before.
Something was wrong. “I’m
fine,” he cut the man with a cold tone.
“Would you care to tell me what exactly you did to me, while I was out?”
The man cleared his throat,
distinctly uncomfortable. “Your legs are
fully recovered, as you can see─”
“I’m not talking about my
legs and you know that,” he pointed out, in a stern tone.
“When we realized the Nanocybots
were working perfectly on your body, healing your wounds and recovering your
bones with their special metal alloy, we decided to take the next step forward
and add a few intelligence chips to your brain. We figured the Nanocybots would
quickly integrate them into your brain, as they do on the cyborgs we create on
our labs,” he explained.
“I don’t remember giving
you permission to play games with my brain,” he said, trying to keep his anger
at bay.
“The papers you signed gave
us permission to do whatever we saw fit to restore your body, and that’s
exactly what we did,” the man retorted, in a firm tone, as if reciting a
rehearsed speech.
“We both know I wasn’t able
to read those papers.”
The man shrugged. “That’s irrelevant,”
he dismissed his complaints. “Right now, all I want to know is how you feel?
How are your senses working?”
For a moment, Jarcor
considered not answering the man’s questions but it was a pointless battle. He
had to act carefully around those people, at least, until he knew how much they
had changed him and how that affected him.
###
“At first, I felt a bit dizzy
and a lot of unwanted information keeps coming to my mind, like the fact you’ve
been married three times by now,” he replied, in a scornful tone, enjoying the
man’s fluster.
“You’ll be able to control
that with time, as well as all the improvements we've made to your body.”
“Like what?” he asked,
frowning.
“Just some minor details
you’ll discover in time.”
Jarcor nodded, not very
pleased with the man’s answers. “When will I be able to go home?”
“I know you feel fine,
right now, but I need you to stay a few more days, while we test all the improvements
made to your body.”
“How long will that take?”
“We can’t tell for sure. We
need to be certain you’re perfectly alright before we send you back to the
battlefield. While you were unconscious, the Taucets landed on our planet. We
need to get you back out there, to lead the other cyborgs and fight these
aliens off our planet.”
“Other cyborgs? Are they
ready for the battlefield? And why do you
include me in that group?” Jarcor asked suspiciously, tensing his body.
The man cleared his throat
once more, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “After all the improvements we
made to you, you have been redefined as a cyborg,” he explained.
“Meaning?” he asked in a
threatening tone.
“You are now the property
of the United Nations Political Organization.”
For a moment, Jarcor was so
surprised, he couldn't move. Had they turned him into a war machine? Who the
hell permitted that?
“You had no permission to
do that. All we discussed was healing my legs, nothing else,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“Did you honestly expect
them to spend such expensive technology on you for free? I’m sure you’re not
that naïve, Jarcor,” mocked Dr. Masterson.
Jarcor pursed his lips and
frowned. He had never expected anything for free, but he sure as hell hadn't expected to have his life and his identity taken
away from him. “I’m a human being…” he yelled, but he could see it was no use.
“Not anymore. It’s better
for you to accept your new life and start acting as is expected of you.
Otherwise, life will become very hard for
you.” There was a definite warning in the
man’s words and ignoring it wouldn't be a smart move.
“So, now I’m your lab rat?”
he asked, oozing scorn.
“If you’d like to think of
yourself like that, I guess it’s a suitable description.”
Masterson nodded and left
the room, returning only a few minutes later with the same men that had
convinced him to allow them to play with his life. During the following hours,
they interrogated him exhaustively and put him through a lot of tests, until
they were satisfied.
“We’ll send you to the
training camp tomorrow. We don’t have time to waste and we need all the help we
can get to defeat the Taucets,” General Smithson told him. He had joined the
group interrogating him a couple of hours ago.
“What if I refuse?” Jarcor
asked with a very calm tone, considering all the rage boiling inside him.
“That’s no longer your prerogative.
You have been programmed to follow orders,” General Smithson explained. “Even
if you managed to circumvent those orders, you wouldn’t get far. We’ve installed
tracking devices in you that will allow us to find you faster than you can
blink.”
“How many men like me were
fooled into this trap?”
The Doctor sighed,
impatient. “You are the first one we’ve transformed, but depending on your
results, I’m sure there will be many more,” the man replied in a cold tone.
“Besides, we didn’t fool you. We saved you from a
dreadful future. You should be on your brand-new knees thanking us,” he
snarled at Jarcor.
“I’m afraid having my freedom
and life taken away from me doesn’t make me very thankful,” Jarcor retorted.
“Nonsense. You had no life
left,” the general insisted in a vain attempt to make Jarcor believe in his
words.
Jarcor remained silent and
the general finally gave up. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the training camp,” he
said before he left Jarcor’s room.
The other men followed the
general and Jarcor was left alone with Dr. Masterson.
“Do you think this is
ethical? Fooling wounded men to accept false hope and then stealing their lives
away from them?” he asked the man, his voice deadly.
“I’m not here to judge. I’m
paid to do my job and that’s exactly what I do,” the man replied, not showing a
hint of regret or shame, as if he couldn’t care less.
Jarcor
shook his head and walked towards the window, silently inviting the other man
to leave his room.
