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[TuringPoint]

In the beginning, my flesh had collapsed and become ice.  Tubes held pieces of me whole, in approximation of life.
Eventually something stirred and became warm.  Then there was no turning back.  Tissue regrew where it could, as it thawed gently and life breathed into it again. Most of the process was mechanical at first, as nutrition was pumped in fluids through synthetic roots and artificial arteries across my corpse.  My corpse remained dead.  My eyes remained closed - perhaps unrecognizable.
A man-made spark was added to the process.  Cybernetics and billions of dollars worth of nanorobots streamed through my veins.  Seamless improvements were attached to my nervous system to activate it.  The flesh began to burn hot, as hot as fire, and my heart beat, faster and faster.  

My eyes shot open with leaden enthusiasm, then went wide as my heart jolted into frantic action. Certain doom loomed in my subconscious.  I felt myself falling endlessly, and my body lurched up and scrambled away from the inevitable death it seemed to still be expecting.

I heard voices coming from the light, and two indistinct forms came into focus.  The sensation of falling rested, my body lay still, and to stable darkness I returned.  The fight of my life had ended.
Now that my body had stopped falling, where had it landed?  It hadn't reached the end it was expecting, sacrificed for the good of my crew.
To put it another way:  I had been given life, but who was my creator?  Was my life a conscript to the highest bidder?