Gulfonodi
Republic Fleet Testing Facilities
The cold metal room sprung to life as multitudes of coloured lights began to flicker. The sound of machinery coming off of standby began to add to the re-verbing hum vibrating off of the walls.
Several monitors began their lifecycle, slowly bringing a slew of text scrolling down the various screens...
...Initiating new life program...
...recieving final cranial data burst for user 672114829...
...verifing data authenticity...
...VERIFIED...
...beginning stasis re-animation...
...
...
...
...
...COMPLETE...
...
...initialising data transfer to cranial implant...
...
...
...
...COMPLETE...
...
...opening stasis tube...
A hatch slowly opened on one of the clone stasis tubes, causing a flow of flourescant green liquid to splash onto and through the grated floor. Meklon's limp body un-ceremoniously slumped forward, shunting to a halt at a 45 degree angle as the various tubes and wires that kept this clone body alive caught him. Several drones appeared from a section in the wall and began the mechanical dance of dis-entagleing him from his cable prison.
One of the drones produces a large hypodermic needle and quickly jabs it into Meklon's chest...a sudden convulsion as his body goes into spasm...
"...ystems not responding!"
The scream comes out of his lips before his body collapses onto the floor and the silence returns to the room...
Gulfonodi
Republic Fleet Testing Facilities
Deck 27
Medical Lab
Meklon's limp body lay ontop of the robust metallic medical examination unit while several medical practioners poked and proded around his body and cranial implants. Several tubes were stuck in his arms, chest, his forehead and his cranial implant, all leading off to various machines and fluid bags.
A senior doctor walks into the room, reading a small datapad which displayed Meklons vital's.
"Haven't seen a case like this in a while..."
The datapad get's placed on a bare table to his left as he leans in close to view Meklon's cranium.
"...a revised version of the prototype pod interface implant. Should have been taken out of service years ago, they used to cause some severe mental damage with pro-longed use. Julius, get onto the medical council, we need someone with more experience on these matters than I can give."
With that, the doctor took his datapad back in his hand and left the other practioners hovering around Meklon's near motionless body.
Gulfonodi
Republic Fleet Testing Facilities
Deck 27
Medical Lab
The melodic beeps and hums of the monitoring systems continued to echo throughout the room, their varying pitches causing no reaction from the pale body.
A slight flicker ran through his eyelids - nothing noticable, but enough to cause a small spike on one of the many monitors adorning the lab walls.
More cables and wires appeared to have been attached to Meklon's body, the largest of which was directly inserted into his main cranial socket. It had been decided to try to simulate the experience of pod piloting through several virtual interfaces - the advancement of non-pod cranial interfacing had improved and the software used at the academies had improved ten-fold since his schooling days.
Unfortunatly, there had been little progress and ideas of progression were becoming few. So few in fact, that there was merely two left... either let him live out the last of his mind-lock'esque life in the current body..... or ..... launch him out in his pod and destroy him...
I stare blankly at him, this boy no older than me who still seems to me to be wearing his father's Fleet uniform, and try to make sense of what he just said.
"I'm sorry, Mrs DeMattzeo, but I'm afraid your husband is..."
It doesn't make any sense. He was fine, barely a week ago. It was nothing...
"A simple case of recloning shock... he'll be over it in a few days..."
Then he was awake, he was fine, we talked stuff over and then...
"I'm sorry, Mrs DeMattzeo, but I'm afraid your husband is mi..."
It's just not possible.
"I'm sorry, Mrs DeMattzeo, but I'm afraid your husband is mind..."
He promised me! He promised me, damnit! He swore to me that he would be the one that didn't die, wouldn't disappear on me, wouldn't fall prey to this curse that withers everything I touch.
"...I'm afraid your husband is mindlocked."
I wish I was. As it stands, I just can't scream loud enough.
"...it looks as though the simulation project he's hooked up to has some functionality, he's managed to send an
information packet to the public Galnet server."
He looked over the still motionless body of Meklon before reviewing information displayed on one of the monitors.
"But... there has been no outbound signal from here, we must be suffering from some sort of machine error. Send for a tech... quickly."
Republic Fleet Testing Services, Gulfonodi
Deck 27, Medical Bay
In solemn silence, an intern brings a carved wooden chair to set by the bed, in the light streaming from the sunwards window. It looks incongruously homely amidst the clinically barren furnishings of the room.
With no words, just a simple nod to the black-clad woman in the doorway, the young medic leaves, dusting his hands on his white coat, and in the wake of his exit, the room falls back to the quiet beeps of the monitors, the soft breathing of machines; a systematic lull broken by the over-loud click of her heels on the tiled floor as Eva crosses to the chair, pauses for a moment, then sinks onto it, reaching out to take the hand of the motionless man in the bed.
"Mek, I... I don't know where... or how... to start."
She stops, staring down at her own knees, listening to the machines ticking steadily away. Her expression is frozen, a china mask, with regret painted in the line of her brow, a deep-set weariness around the eyes, but a certain peace there nonetheless. Resignation.
She sighs, lifting her eyes to his face, then her head drops again.
A deep breath, another attempt.
"You know, this is the longest we've been in the same place since we were married?" Her lips twist with a bitter effort at a wry smile.
"We kept telling each other that we knew it would be hard... That the alliance... that the cause.. wouldn't get in the way... because we'd face it together." She breaks off, counting something off on her fingers, eyes still staring emptily past and through her hands.
"We've been married almost 5 months now. And in all that time, I've seen you for 9 hours. 9 hours... and I counted every, single second of it." A hollow laugh breaks her lips, the first touch of animation in her expression since she came in, as she leans in towards the bed. "Let's see you go planetside now, you fucker."
She lifts her hand to her lips, blushing sharply at her outburst, glancing ashamedly round at the empty room, at the monitor cameras in the ceiling with a deeper reddening.
"It's not... not that I wanted you to love me more than our cause... I couldn't offer that myself, nor have respected you if you had. But when I said I knew it would be hard, I was wrong. I didn't know! Not this hard..."
She drops her eyes to her fingers again, twisting the winged ring on her left hand repeatedly.
"You were away so much... Left me to try to run the alliance without the mandate or authority to do so, but it had to be done, so I did it, alone.
Revy makes her way into the Brutor medical establishment.
Republic Fleet Testing Services, Gulfonodi
Deck 27, Medical Bay
109.07.05
23:15
Cold machinery moves and beeps and pulses, the repetative patterns taking on a life of their own. The room smells of nothing, absolutely sterile. Midnighter feels so dirty as he walks into the room, as if there was some layer of filth the pressure showers couldn't wash off his pod suit.
He looks around to make sure he is alone, and he carefully walks around to the bed and sits slowly.
Everything in here looks so delicate, so frail. He is afraid to touch anything in case his large fingers break something vital, something important. So he holds on to the long object in his hands, his fingers nervously twisting the purple cloth that covers it
Midnighter finally looks down upon the frailest thing in the room; the inert body of Meklon. He sits and contemplates the curve of the Caldari's cheek-bones, the arch of his nose, the growth of stubble on his chin. This close and this vulnerable, Meklon seems so alien to him. This is not the same face he has talked to time and time again across video channels. This is not the man he has laughed with, argued with, fought beside.
Slowly Midnighter's face contorts into a look of disgust, his eyes flicking with a fear that none ever talk of. He'd dreamed this; this was the worst dream. Just before waking, when sleep paralysis has set in, the dream where he has docked after his greatest fight and the pod releases him to the awaiting fans and congratulators and he can't walk. The world tumbles past in slow motion and he falls unmoving to the hanger floor, the screaming voices and panic lost in the background to that one thought running through his mind at a million metres per second; [i]"Not me. Not me. Not me."
He always woke with a sweat and would comfort himself in that one thought.
"Not me."
[/i]
He swallows and flushes the thoughts from his head and focuses on Meklon once more.
"Yo." His voice is cracked and unpracticed, the deep tones wavering as though unsure of themselves.
He coughs and breathes. "Some people say you can hear me. And I believe that's true, so here I am."
"I know what they are saying about you. I've heard the medical reports. That you're 'wetgraved'. But I hear you were conscious before, that you've used some kind of interface to say what needed to be said. But you know what I think?"
He sits in silence as though awaiting an acknoweledgement, and maybe he gets one, as he continues. "I aint no brain scientist, but I think this talk of 'The Lock' is just scaremongering; the doctors trying to bust people's hope so they don't feel so ripped up if they lose you. I don't think this is a 'wetgrave' you're in. Sure, you got one foot planted in that grave, but you got one foot out. You are just lost in there; looking for a way to lift that foot out and walk back."
Midnighter raises one of his eyebrows questioningly, "You don't agree, just say so."
He smiles sourly at the silence and nods.
"I can't help you out of there, dude. You are the only one who can. But I can support you. Maybe if this world is bright enough you'll be able to find it in the darkness and claw your way back."
He shrugs, "Or maybe you don't want to come back. That's cool too."
He stands to his full height in one swift movement and nods to Meklon, pulling the purple cloth off the object in his hands. The soft white lighting of the room glimmers and reflects off the gold and brass details on the [i]Khumaak in his hands.[/i]
"This my friend is the Khumaak. It is the sacred symbol of fighting and rebellion." He punches his own chest fiercly, "It is a warriors symbol."
He gently lays it to rest against the bed of Meklon, touching the weapon with reverance and affection.
The atmosphere in the room changes as Midnighter then steps forward and looms over the body, his shadow devouring all light, his dark face hardening and his pale eyes piercing the body intensely.
"Now listen here, and I tell you what we do."
"You fight, you sorry sack of shit and you fight hard. As long as you are lieing in this clean coffin you are nothing and you deserve nothing."
His voice burns with hate and disgust as he spits every word, flecks of saliva washing ever word he speaks.
"You thought you could be our leader? You think you deserve this alliance? You think you deserve MUFF? You think you deserve your wife?"
"As long as you don't have the strength to get out of here, you deserve nothing!"
"Now you prove to us that you are worth a damn!"
"Prove you were worth the time."
"Prove you were worth effort."
"Prove you are worth the pain and the upset you are putting these people through!"
"Stand on your own two feet, and grasp this Khumaak and show them you are strong! Show them you are a fighter!"
He stops before the fire inside of him touches everything around him and he is lost in the intensity. He slowly breathes and regains his composure.
"Otherwise you can lie there and rot and die. But do it quick to save those around you the pain and hardship."
Midnighter nods and walks away from the bed, tossing the purple cloth over his shoulder as he goes.
"I'm leaving now... I won't be back... it's down to you to come see me."
The door slams behind him and slowly yhe room descends into silence, pierced only by the rhythmic movement and pulsing of the cold, sterile machines.
Republic Fleet Testing Services, Gulfonodi
Deck 27, Medical Bay
109.07.05
23:56
A slim, unassuming sebestior woman considered the room as she knelt beside meklon. To an Engineer, the place was abuz with vibrent, complex circuitry, hidden beneath a sterile, inert fascade. She hoped the same was true of meklon.
"You're causing quite a lot of distress you know, Meklon; with my former honourary little sister especially. I hope you appreciate how much she is missing you. Personally, I think midnighter is right."
Ahh, midnighter, you remind me so much of Thuor you know.
"I don't know how much of your heart is truely Matari though, so I'm lost as to how much I can help you without killing you. I know Evanda will never speak to me again if I do."
Samantha pulled out a ferroglass bottle and unstoppered it close to Meklon's nose.
"In case you're wondering how I managed to steal some of Eva's perfume, I didn't. It's limited edition version from my days as a Glamour Bunny. Now, I think it's time someone told you what's going on in the universe..."
The woman continued, slowly recounting current affairs while adding her own commentry .
[size=8pt]Tweaked for spelling, punctuation, and continuity.[/size]
Gulfonodi
Republic Fleet Testing Facilities
Deck 27
Medical Lab
109.07.06
10:30
The various speechs from Doriam II's Vigil echoed around the medical lab. A couple of nurses were in the process of changing over the various fluid bags attached to the slowly paleing body. The ever present beeping remained audiable, though it seemed to be less frequent than the evening before.
The nurses cleaned up the remanents of mess that they had left and silently left the room, turning off the voice feed which currently had Rodj Blake proclaiming that the Empire is the rightful guardian of peace. The near silence returned to the room, the machinary continued to keep the body alive.