It's a laboratory setting without a doubt; pale walls, scrubbed tile floor, console readings humming on the fringes and wires snaking every which way. The ceiling is very high, however, to accommodate the immense machine that commandeers attention in the center of the room. A technician mans the control station off to the right; in front of you stand two other men, one of them shorter but much older and heavily bearded...the Chief of Staff, Sesemann. He's here for an assessment, you know. But you're not particularly worried that he'll be disappointed in what he sees here today. No, instead your attention remains expectantly affixed upon the machine, and you hold an opened file of documents before you: it bears the image of a smiling young man, a soldier of Malkuth. Deceased a month ago in combat, but his data was retrieved...
You signal to the technician, and the machine lights up, bright particles gathering upon the platform at its center. An awful sort of reverb fills the air, building to a shriek that jars at the ears as the particles begin to solidify into the shape of a person. (Some personnel in the room wince, but you do not; how many times have you heard this noise by now? Already flattened it down about as much as can be managed, without losing efficiency...) No more than a minute passes, before the process is finished--and a man now lays on the platform of the machine, materialized in the empty space. As other lab techs scurry up onto the platform to pull him upright, his features become clear: his hair and his face match the picture on the file perfectly. But there's no smile--not much of anything, really, in the way of any facial expression at all. Mouth agape, blinking blankly ahead; he barely seems to notice the techs as they crowd around him, and the questions they ask ('What is your name?' 'Where are you from?') are met with nothing but an indistinct and wordless noise that spills from his throat, strange and unsettling enough to rise even over the hum of machinery.
You sigh even before one of the techs turns to you, shaking their head. "...As expected, it appears that memory inheritance isn't possible..."
The other young man in a lab coat standing next to Sesemann--Saphir--storms forward with frustration to join the techs as they begin to wrap the listless replica in spare medical scrubs. "But--it doesn't make any sense! Theoretically it should be possible! Why won't they carry over?!"
You remain where you are, impassive. This result doesn't strike as particularly surprising to you either, truth be told--it's another in a long line of similar results, here and now. Though the configuration had seemed a lot more promising this time around...what is it that's still missing? How many more tries is this going to take? Despite yourself, there's a feeling that still briefly wells dull and aching in your chest, that might be--
--Chief Sesemann turns to you and speaks, cutting through your thoughts. "His Majesty Karl the Fifth would still like to see if these replicas can at least be trained for battle," he says, running his fingers through his beard pensively as he eyes you in an inscrutable sort of fashion. Others might have been more uncomfortable under the sharp scrutiny, but you're far too preoccupied to particularly care at the moment. "Do you think it can be done, young Curtiss?"
"That will require two more years of research at the very least," you reply after a beat, tone flat.
"That's fine. You're cleared to make use of the replica data of Hod's residents; it's expected that should make for a great deal of material."
"Understood." You nod readily enough, and remain at immaculate attention as Chief Sesemann turns and exits through the lab entrance, but in reality you barely register his progress until the doors have closed; as soon as he's out your posture slackens imperceptibly, another sigh escaping as you close your eyes, taking a moment to reach up and remove your glasses to pinch at the bridge of your nose. You're not--tired, exactly. But you don't care for the strange weight that still continues tugging at your chest, either...a cold yet growing frustration, now only fed further by this newest request to add to the list. You'll fulfill it, of course--a direct demand from the crown Emperor of Malkuth can't exactly be ignored, especially not while the need for more resources remains. If you ever expect to bring her back, really bring her back...you'll have to do whatever it takes, even if it's all nothing more than pointless detours--
You turn to the doors as well, even as Saphir's trailing back up to your side. "Jade, where are you going?"
"To prepare for the next experiment." You gesture to one of the helpers near the doorway. "Bring me the data of Hod's destruction from Field Marshal McGovern's records."
"How should we deal with this one?" The techs have brought the replica of the young soldier down from the machine; unsteady on his new legs, he keeps nearly slumping to the floor, and has to be half-dragged. You look back over your shoulder, and stare blankly at the replica for a long moment--his faraway eyes, his weak frame. Yet another useless failure, same as all the others. No, you think, even taking this one apart wouldn't impart anything new at this point...
"With poison as usual, I suppose," you answer, voice empty of any feeling on the matter. Your thoughts are already drifting back to the potential of the data from Hod, anyway, as you continue your way out of the lab and Saphir trails at your heels.
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second memory; 1st person (CW: human experimentation)
You signal to the technician, and the machine lights up, bright particles gathering upon the platform at its center. An awful sort of reverb fills the air, building to a shriek that jars at the ears as the particles begin to solidify into the shape of a person. (Some personnel in the room wince, but you do not; how many times have you heard this noise by now? Already flattened it down about as much as can be managed, without losing efficiency...) No more than a minute passes, before the process is finished--and a man now lays on the platform of the machine, materialized in the empty space. As other lab techs scurry up onto the platform to pull him upright, his features become clear: his hair and his face match the picture on the file perfectly. But there's no smile--not much of anything, really, in the way of any facial expression at all. Mouth agape, blinking blankly ahead; he barely seems to notice the techs as they crowd around him, and the questions they ask ('What is your name?' 'Where are you from?') are met with nothing but an indistinct and wordless noise that spills from his throat, strange and unsettling enough to rise even over the hum of machinery.
You sigh even before one of the techs turns to you, shaking their head. "...As expected, it appears that memory inheritance isn't possible..."
The other young man in a lab coat standing next to Sesemann--Saphir--storms forward with frustration to join the techs as they begin to wrap the listless replica in spare medical scrubs. "But--it doesn't make any sense! Theoretically it should be possible! Why won't they carry over?!"
You remain where you are, impassive. This result doesn't strike as particularly surprising to you either, truth be told--it's another in a long line of similar results, here and now. Though the configuration had seemed a lot more promising this time around...what is it that's still missing? How many more tries is this going to take? Despite yourself, there's a feeling that still briefly wells dull and aching in your chest, that might be--
--Chief Sesemann turns to you and speaks, cutting through your thoughts. "His Majesty Karl the Fifth would still like to see if these replicas can at least be trained for battle," he says, running his fingers through his beard pensively as he eyes you in an inscrutable sort of fashion. Others might have been more uncomfortable under the sharp scrutiny, but you're far too preoccupied to particularly care at the moment. "Do you think it can be done, young Curtiss?"
"That will require two more years of research at the very least," you reply after a beat, tone flat.
"That's fine. You're cleared to make use of the replica data of Hod's residents; it's expected that should make for a great deal of material."
"Understood." You nod readily enough, and remain at immaculate attention as Chief Sesemann turns and exits through the lab entrance, but in reality you barely register his progress until the doors have closed; as soon as he's out your posture slackens imperceptibly, another sigh escaping as you close your eyes, taking a moment to reach up and remove your glasses to pinch at the bridge of your nose. You're not--tired, exactly. But you don't care for the strange weight that still continues tugging at your chest, either...a cold yet growing frustration, now only fed further by this newest request to add to the list. You'll fulfill it, of course--a direct demand from the crown Emperor of Malkuth can't exactly be ignored, especially not while the need for more resources remains. If you ever expect to bring her back, really bring her back...you'll have to do whatever it takes, even if it's all nothing more than pointless detours--
You turn to the doors as well, even as Saphir's trailing back up to your side. "Jade, where are you going?"
"To prepare for the next experiment." You gesture to one of the helpers near the doorway. "Bring me the data of Hod's destruction from Field Marshal McGovern's records."
"How should we deal with this one?" The techs have brought the replica of the young soldier down from the machine; unsteady on his new legs, he keeps nearly slumping to the floor, and has to be half-dragged. You look back over your shoulder, and stare blankly at the replica for a long moment--his faraway eyes, his weak frame. Yet another useless failure, same as all the others. No, you think, even taking this one apart wouldn't impart anything new at this point...
"With poison as usual, I suppose," you answer, voice empty of any feeling on the matter. Your thoughts are already drifting back to the potential of the data from Hod, anyway, as you continue your way out of the lab and Saphir trails at your heels.