WHITE NOISE || IC

[Puzzle]

Can you hear it, the ringing in your ears...? It's calling us... The Planet... She is beckoning us...

[ OUT OF CHARACTER THREAD ] | [ CHARACTER MASTERLIST ] | [ EPISODE GUIDE ]

:: PART 1 ::
:: AB INITIO ::

:: EPISODE ONE ::
::Welcome to the MC-DSC APOCRYPHA::

And there It stood.

And stood around It thirteen figures, hands lifted to the extending heavens. An under them was the pure land in which they were graced to stand from the beginning of time. And that land was the plateau that it was berthed upon, pulled from the ground by God so that no raging storm, no loose tide, no lava flow, no harsh snow, no rogue wind could touch it, so that it could remain in eternal perfection. So that the thirteen could endlessly harness its power, give this heavenly power to everyone, eternal, forever. And this was the Era of the Calmed. The Storms did not rage. The Tide did ebb, but the tide did not present her problems. The world saw where It stood, and every thing was right. The World was happy with her design. Lava did not flow. Snow gently coated the tall mountains, and the world on its season, but it did not touch It, for the snow wished to see it. The wind did not wish to redesign it, so the wind blew too low to touch It, and they were happy. The people soon came from all around to witness It. The prophets came, too. They laid eyes upon it, and they were happy, and all was perfect. For a time. When the Thirteen realized, it was too late.They could only channel their prophets, they could only herd the people away, the people could only herd animals away, but they could not lure the sky away.

The Last prophet was at It, called by the First of Thirteen. He was to be his hand. he was to defy the law set by God at God's behest, with the the powers of God.

And no good came of it.

He touched It.

The sky took him.

It was no more.

A sharp ring filled the room. With a tone to end it, Samyaza's eyes ripped open. He gasped sharply for air, shot up. The first thing the Scientist did was clutch his hands into tight fists before running them up and down his body. Samyaza was in a trance, but was coming down. His heart raced, he was sweating profusely. He looked around, and saw nothing out of place. Another Dream... He thought, making a holy gesture. "The word of..." He had to think about what he saw, and it clicked. "The word of Il Samodon, Chapter Two, Verses four through twenty five, and forty-five through fifty. Amen." He waited. "Amen." repeated a soft, warm, Female voice repeated, her voice sighing in unison with the Man. "Good Evening, Dr. Clarke. Currently, it is Tuesday, August 2, 2317. The Time is 20:32 Hours. How are you feeling?" Samyaza groaned as he pounded his fingers into his HUD, forwarding the recorded images, clear, partial, or otherwise, to his therapist. "Like shit..." He replied to the voice tiredly. The report began to organize itself, and Samyaza frowned. She would judge him again. The Augmentation, The belief in a false group of gods. At the least She helped with everything else. His own personal, mental Issues. That was something. When he finished sending her the report, He stepped into his bathroom, and let cold water, purified planet water, rush out of the shower head. It pattered against him, cleaned him off, cleansed him of his sins for that long moment. The Shower stopped Automatically after confirming he was clean, and the Geophysicist dried himself while walking into his bedroom. An outfit waited for him. "Thank you, Azer." He murmured as he dressed, no reply returning his thanks. Once he finished dressing, the A.I accepted his thanks. "Of Course Dr. Clarke. You look sharp today!" And with that, the Doctor was on his way.

Samyaza walked out of the Room he called his own living quarters, and and began to walk the halls towards the Main concourse of the Living complex. He looked around and rose his eyebrows at the activity of the Complex, looked up and saw just that, All classes of people waking up to start their day on the Colony. He felt the day was going to be a slow one, but didn't mind it. He liked the slow days. This one was, he felt however, going to be a different kind of slow day. A good slow day. Samyaza stepped in an Elevator and pressed the button on the HUD Presented for the Floor that was linked to the Train hub, smiling as the door shut and the metal box whirred to life.

[DruSM157]

A phantom limb is the sensation that an amputated or missing limb is still attached to the body.

It was a dull ache; the kind of ache one has when exerting too much energy on a limb, tearing the muscle. The pain while the muscle healed, something akin to the pain of a bruise. It was just an ache. “Just an ache,” Daniel Kiess muttered to himself, as he finished attaching the prosthetic to the remains of his left hand.

It was ugly. He hated to look at it, and was happy to wear his insulated gloves at work. The wound was hideous; his mangled left hand looked like a piece of flesh that poorly healed—bad or rotten meat. And the ports to attach the cybernetic prosthetic…even that was considerably gruesome to him.

You don’t have to remove the prosthetic every day… Memories of the doctors the day that the grafting was finalized eked back into his mind. The small green light located on the palm side of his hand; showing that the fingers were now powered and functional came on. His mind shifted to the exercises the doctors gave him.

Close your eyes and focus on tightening your grip. Bring every finger in, clench as hard as you can, and release… He did so. Focusing on the pressure of his hand, of the odd alien feeling that came along with the machine attached to his flesh. He focused on the pressure, and he felt each digit: beginning with his thumb, index finger, middle finger…and then his ring and pinkie finger. He felt them tighten too, as if some ghostly form held them close.

He opened his eyes, seeing each finger, including the prosthetic, clenched, creating a tight balled fist. The dull ache began to fade away. It would fade away, in time. He checked the clock in his room, and his gaze hovered over a small portrait of his parents, before moving to his locker. He slid his jumpsuit on, following with his gloves. He looked at his left hand once again; now covered up, it seemed more natural.

He preferred it that way.

”Engineer Kies. Your weekly physical at med bay is scheduled in 20 minutes.” The familiar voice of the A.I. rang in his room. Wonderful. Mr. A had been badgering him about the physical all day. He was getting sick and tired of the doctors prodding him and poking him about his hand.

“I heard you the first time,” he muttered, throwing on his cap.

”Would you like me to repeat your schedule for today?”

He wanted to smart off to the machine, say something…bitter, fickle. But, all that came out was, “Sure.”

”Physical with med staff. First work shift: your area today is section 2-C. After first shift: lunch. After lunch, weekly meeting with the psychologist. After the meeting, second work shift. After the work shift, open time.”

“It seems like you've gotten me all set for today, Mr. A.”

”It’s my pleasure Engineer Kies.”

One day he’d disconnect that overly friendly tone box. Every time he complained he always got a retort: 85% of the colonists preferred the upbeat tone when they woke up. It helped lower rates of depression and feelings of suicide. It was good for productivity. It was all shit in his mind.

His hand ached again. Worse this time.

“Just…just keep clenching it, Dave. Keep clenching it.”

[Baconn96]

5 January 2316

The men were heavily armed and probably amped out of their mind on drugs.

"One-One here, enemy all around, I'm preping to engage." Bennett said.

"One-Three copies. Need support?"

"Nah, just six guys."

"Radio if you need something."

"Copy. One-One out."

The room was rectangular, roughly twice as long as wide. A desk was to the left, and took up half the length of one wall. There were two dividing walls to either side of that. There was a double door at each end, leading to the other parts of the hospital. Behind the dividing wall fro the front counter were the doors to the janitor's closet and a bathroom. Bennett was in the closet. He smelled horrid being deployed for three days straight. That was unusual, SAOD operatives were usually in and out in less than thirty, and hour if interrogation was needed. Time to see what was going on.

"Command, link sat feed to my PR."

"Copy."

Projected Reality was great for ops. They just looked like bulky sunglasses, but they could project the shape of men and weapons through cover provided something or someone else could send the feed. As the feed from the satellite established, red lined figures were shown in the next room. They carried shotguns and rifles, with pistols and grenades easily accessible. There were six. One was by his door, three more in the main area, one behind the counter, and one in the bathroom.

"One-One, engaging."

He didn't wait for a reply. He opened his door. The African just ahead heard the door move. Bennett wrapped his arm around the man's neck, his elbow in line with his victim's adam's apple. He yanked back and to the right. The vertebrae snapped loudly. He held the body against him and grabbed the rifle with his left hand. As one man came around to investigate, Bennett let loose a burst. The 5x35.7mm rounds, designed for close combat, blasted into the man. He fell back, his own weapon firing into the ceiling. Bennett dropped the body. He let the stock come to his shoulder. The sight was a collimating, often called a red dot, and was simple to use. The men were moving to engage him. Stupid.

He fired around the corner, catching both men. They fell back. One just moaned, while the other struggled to unclip his pistol. Bennett used the edge of the dividing wall as as pivot, swinging around it. The man was smart, he grabbed the gun around the barrel and pulled. Bennett let it fly from his hands. Bennett grabbed the pistol off of the table and fired twice at the man. The bullet stopped him. Bennett swung around to fire at the man bursting through the bathroom door. He fired the handgun through the thin wall. The man's head exploded. Two left.

A shot came from behind him. The man from before. He swung to the left and emptied the pistol into the two injured. He took two steps and picked up a shotgun. He also found a hand grenade. The pin was pulled and the grenade thrown behind the counter. As Bennett walked through the door to go farther into the occupied hospital, he touched the earpiece connecting him to his team.

"One-One here, area's clear, moving up." The thud of the grenade sounded behind him. "We are goin' loud gentlemen." He knew they would be smiling.

[FenrirDarkWolf]

Jesus walked silently in a rather ugly field. The perfectly planted posies were grey and withered, and the grass was dry. The sky was as black as night, but the sun still shined throughout. He looked down on the ground, the dirt path under his feet was desperately in need of some modernization. 'Pavement would me best for it,' Jesus thought.

Coming up to the end of the path, Jesus stopped in his tracks upon seeing a rather familiar house. This house seemed to be over fifty years old, and the dingy-yellow coat of paint was peeling off. The roof tiles were in need of immediate repair, and the door was slightly ajar, unable to even close upon itself.

Entering the house, Jesus felt a wave of deja vu. As if he'd been here before, but could not remember where. Exploring the house, the feeling kept with him, and finally, he found a room, a room which seemed to be the master bedroom.

Upon entrance to the bedroom, Jesus saw three figures, which appeared to be parents and a small child, each blacked out and hidden in the shadows. To Jesus, they looked familiar, though, he couldn't put his finger on it.

After a long silence, one of the figures stepped forward, the small child. Looking at the child, Jesus's eyes widen in realization that, this child was himself, and this house, was his childhood home. "N-No!" he yelled, "This isn't real!" The child stepped forward, and whispered in the man's ear, "An eye for an eye."

Pushing the child away, Jesus shivered. That was his mantra, what kept him alive, and now is was going to be used against him.
"No! No! NO!"

Jesus leaned forward, panting heavily, sweating, and utterly terrified. He looked around, checking where he was, noticing the same midnight blue wallpaper, and the bright orange carpet, he sighed in relief upon realization that he was still in his room. Looking up at the door, he realized that Ramon was standing there, his Latin lover looking at him curiously.

He watched as Ramon walked over to him, and pulled him in a protective hug, "Was it another dream Jesus?" The man in question nodded, "Parents again..." Ramon sighed, "You should really see a psychologist about this Jesus, one day, these dreams are going to kill you." Jesus sighed softly, "I know..."

Pulling apart, Jesus stepped out of bed, and to the hamper, "Hey, can you give me my schedule for the day?" Ramon nodded, and started to recite what he heard earlier from the "schedule-bot" as he liked to call it, "Okay, so, today, you have a patrolling gig in the residential areas until noon, from noon to one, you have a lunch break, but don't go too far because afterwards, you have to head back there until five. After five you are free for the rest of the day."

Jesus nodded, noting how easy today was going to be, after all, not much happened in the residential areas. He quickly changed into his stylized uniform, and looked in the mirror. The orange suit jacket over to the orange-ish suit with a blue undershirt and a red tie. Not too much standard clothing, but, it helped him blend more into the people, and criminals wouldn't really expect him to be an officer of the law.

Looking back at himself in the mirror, he brought a hand to his face, touching the tattoo under his prosthetic eye gently, still haunted by the memories of why he had it. Similarly, his natural blue colored eye on the other side of his face brought back memories of his family, and him abandoning them. Shaking his head, he pulled his bang over the blue eye, Out of sight, out of mind. With this intact, he left the house, giving his partner a quick kiss, and left to the residential areas.

[MST3K 4ever]

The sound of rain falling outside and a mild rumble of thunder periodically filled Robin Pearson's apartment as she slept soundly , and then there was the sound of a bell chiming in a perfect rhythm.

Robin reached over and shut off the alarm and once she did that the sound of the falling rain ceased as well. She felt around on her back and felt the charger for her lower back enhancement and pulled it out and laid it on her nightstand. She shook the cobwebs out and got her bearings as she laid there motionless and waiting.

This is the part that really concerns me about the enhancement waiting for it to register that the charger is out, and it worries me that one day the enhancement won't kick in and I'll be...

Just then Robin felt a slight tingle that starts from the lower back and throughout the lower half of her body and then heard an ever so quiet whirring sound that eventually faded out.

There it is now I'm ready to start the day.

Robin sat all the way up in bed and swung her legs over the bed. She gave them each a gentle rub to make sure she can still feel her touching them. Once she felt her touch she grabbed the nightstand and slowly stood up slightly. After a split second of lack of balance she stood up completely and began gingerly walking until she felt comfortable enough to make full strides. She saw that she had plenty of time before she had to get to the communications platform for the weekly diagnostic drills on the relay units.

Robin made her way to her dresser and slipped into a pair of purple sweat pants, a white tank top, with a purple wind breaker and put on a pair of white jogging shoes.

She walks over to a treadmill in front of a full-wall sized video screen that wraps around the treadmill and she said, "Mr. A"

A replied, "Good Morning Miss Pearson. I trust you slept well."

Robin said with a smile on her face, "Yes I did thank you very much. This morning I think I want Central Park in fall, early morning, maybe one or two other joggers on the path and the sound of the city slowly waking up. I think 45 minutes will be just fine for this morning, and then a shower followed by my Chai-Latte and a bagel with salmon cream cheese."

A replied, "Yes Miss Pearson. Would you care for anything particular in your lunch for your trip to the communications platform?"

Robin said, "No thank you I'll just take some of the leftover lasagna from last night."

A said, "Very well Miss Pearson. Whenever you are ready step on the treadmill and you may begin."

Robin stepped on the platform and the treadmill slowly built up speed as she began her jog. Within seconds the video showed Central Park just as Robin had requested and she smiled as she began to hit her stride as a good looking young man jogged by her and smiled and began to slightly pull ahead. Robin caught up with him and smiled back at him and pulled away as he tried to catch up to her.

Very nice touch Mr. A. He's actually being very pleasant to deal with today. Maybe he's hoping I'll go easy on him with the diagnostics testing today,and then it'll be back to our usual. I'll take my breaks where I can get 'em.

Just then the guy jogs up to Robin and asked, "Mind if I join you?"

Robin smiled at him and said, "Sure if you can keep up."

The guy smiled at Robin and they begin a brisk jog.

Yep looks like it's gonna be good day. Mr. A you just might get off easy today.

[Gowi]

"Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards."
- Aldous Huxley

The silence was unnerving, but it was better than the constant clicking, flashing, and moving aspects that this life of theirs gave them. What would of it been like to go back like it was in the 20th century when the concept of a intertwined souless network was only just that? The thought came to Dr. Petukhov on several occasions and while having no answer she felt like it perhaps could of been less maddening. God wasn't absent now, he was waiting above for the time, the right time. That is what she believed anyway as she exiled herself from herself twice every day, to get away from the automated monontony that was colonial life. Hell, was life in general, she had been to Earth once and she remembered nothing different. All Earth had been was gone and all that remained was an overpopulated society where life was just as bad than out here in the depths of space. Even then she felt uncomfortable in her own bones, but it was an anxiety she could treat by understanding and wise patience. God helped with that and she was glad to have that with her. Honestly she was not sure where she would be without her father and mother's spirtuality, though that was to say her father being less religious than her mother did give her something. That something was fear, fear of losing their humanity to the technology that owned them. He would often say it had been apalling clear that their humanity had exceeded their humanity; and it scared her as much as it scared him.

"Dr. Petukhov." a voice rang out, the silence was broken.

"Yes, Azerbaijan?"

"The day has begun and you have been in isolation for an accumulated twenty four minutes and twelve seconds."

"...right, thank you Azerbaijan."

"It is no trouble, are you ready for today's activities?"

"I should be, I'm good, thank you. I'll get to it."

"Very well."

The good doctor retrieved her glasses from her shirt's collar of which where they hung as she wiped her eyes and looked up into the ceiling of the bathroom for the moment. "Please god, my lord... guide me through these harsh times I and humanity are trapped within." she prayed aloud as she stood up from her kneeled position and straightened herself out. She looked at the mirror in the bathroom and placed her glasses on her face. It was time to get straight and get ready for the day. She had several appointments and she still needed to read some of the dossiers she received for the new patients she was to take on. Life in space was tense and prone to anxiety and if anyone knew it best on this colony it was Dr. Kareina Astra Petukhov. She put on a smile, confident in herself, and god as she left the bathroom.

"Azerbaijan?"

"Yes, doctor?"

"Could you play The Genius Hits the Road by Ray Charles for me?"

"Of course?"

"That'll be all, thank you."

The sound of Ray Charles' recording of Alabamy Bound filled her workspace as she moved to where her office was. It was a convenient thing and sounds of the 20th century made her feel safe. She thought it was perhaps the organic existence of analog records or the era in general, there was just something about it. Then of course she had been accused of overly romanticizing the period before. She did not disagree and for all of the synthetic, electronic-drenched music that there was today she felt it was better to hear the soul in the musicianship over the technical wizardry of modern movements of house, techno, and trance. Plus, it helped her work better before seeing a patient and at the end of the day that was what was important.

[Puzzle]

Samyaza cleared his throat as the door of the freight sized elevator closed, leaving him alone for all of three minutes during the rather mid speed trip up 49 floors. "The 50th floor of the Residential sector..." He murmured. He shook his head as he remembered personally requesting the floor upon his arrival. He was given tour of all 500 rooms. Quarter 50.J called to him, screamed his name, scratched at the edges of his mind as he tirelessly worked day in and day out for one week without one bit of sleep before deciding to take up residency in the blessed room. Something about being down in the back of the lowest level... it made him feel safe, special. He took a deep breath while picturing the door, but was snapped out of it by a deep, robotic voice. "Sir?" Though startled by the voice, he shook his head and stood proper; Feet an inch apart, arms gently behind his back, A small smile painted upon his face. "I am fine." He said, looking to the side at a blueish-green holographic Screen that Showed different things about the Colony; Inter-Colonial news, The Weather on the planet (as well as the synthetic weather of the world inside of the dome), a Tram Schedule, and other little bits of data. He let out a huff and rested his arms at his side.

"M. Aizerbaijan." Samyaza reached his hand out and his fingers tapped into the holographic screen, turning to look forward. The light seemed to flicker away for the scientist, and his HUD Kicked in then. He blinked and saw nothing but darkness, and lines of code ran in his eyes.

"Yes, Doctor Clarke?" The Raw vocal processor of the A.I. Answered, Its logo appearing the bottom right corner of his "vision."

"Has the good Doctor Kareina Petukhov received my messages?" He asked, The code disappearing and lists of programs running down in several rows.

"I have delivered the messages to her Workstation. She has not yet logged in." There was a pause. "Shall I solicit a receipt of acknowledgment?"

"That won't be necessary, My boy. Thank you." He selected programs that he wished to run, and nodded his head. "All I ask is that you pull up my schedule, and run the Tectonic Processes analysis, as well as Drone feed. Relay it to the current display." A soft tone signaled that he was on the desired floor, The tram Level. "And could you pull also pull up the 3D Map of the station, so that I can navigate."

"Of course, Dr. Clarke." The A.I. responded, obeying his commands.

As the programs loaded up, There was a bit of a sigh; It wished to speak freely.

"Yes?"

The A.I. took another moment to seemingly gather itself as it began to propose an Idea. "Might I recommend that you simply relay the display onto a screen, Dr. Clarke? It would be much more efficient if--"

"No." Samyaza cut it off. "I am quite happy with having things the way I requested them. Thank you."

As the doors to the elevator opened, Samyaza stepped out, and droves of people pushed past him into the box, which descended as he stepped past the 3D mini map he requested opened and formulated on the bottom center of his visible computation spectrum, and he stepped foreward one step at a time, slowly at first, and followed his path blindly into the Executive tram. "Samyaza James Clarke, Geophysicist." With his words, the tram Jerked, hissed and pulled forward as its doors closed. He felt the pull of Earth Gravity, the Tram moving. It made him remember going home, Seeing his parents and only spending a week with them before being sent off to work. He frowned, and began to blame-- "No." Shaking of the memory, Samyaza looked through the data he could see; there still wasn't any major fault lines in the Colony's berth as far as he could tell, and the drone he sent out to monitor the rest of the world they were in seemed to be reading nominal status; The irregularity in magnetism of wherever it was seemed to make its live-feed camera work even better. Hopefully that didn't tamper with anything. He licked his lips as he read over his schedule, the A.I.'s voice reading along.

1. Go over The new data recorded on the drone and edit it into the Planet map.
2. Discuss Safety precautions regarding parties wishing to explore outside the dome for recreational purposes
3. Interview two Xenoarchaeologists.
4. Schedule appointment with Dr. Lark to discuss Augmentations.
5. Schedule appointment with Dr. Petukhov to discuss sent message.

Samyaza nodded and severed his connection to his workstation with a blink. "Let me know when we arrive. I will be taking a nap."

"Yes, Dr. Clarke. Enjoy your brief sleep."

[DruSM157]

"Can you clench your left fist for me Daniel?" The doctor's voice was calm, humane, but it wasn't of concern that he kept that attitude. Professionalism. Daniel liked it that way; he enjoyed humans who had their own shit to deal with and who weren't always happy like with the AI's morning protocols. Daniel clenched his fist, his flesh and bone fingers folding into a ball, while the metallic prosthetic took a few moments longer, as if there were still some disconnect from the machine's receiver attachment to the remaining muscles in his hand. "It's still catching up, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It really doesn't cause a problem unless i'm doing something that requires fine motor motion; working with the electrical conduit boxes, for example."

"Our scans show your body is taking the prosthetic well. I think it has something to do with the junction here-" the doctor pointed to the "attachment" piece, which connected to his hand and also controlled the two metallic fingers. "What I can do is this-" he removed the fingers from the attachment, and walked over across the office to his desk. He retrieved a small box, opening it and began tinkering with something. When he returned, he was holding a new prosthetic-the fingers were the same, but the attachment piece looked shinier, and it had some sort of eye on it.

"Dr. Lark ordered some of the newest prosthetic augmentation models for the staff here to use." He turned the device on, and the "eye" began to glow. "This attachment here is a holographic interface; similar to what an engineering H.I.S. (Holographic Interface Suit) would have. This allows you to access data in real time.

"It's kind of an odd placement though, isn't it?"

"Of course. You'd have to turn your hand over to access it, but you'd be free to use your right hand to access the same panel information. News, site data..."

"It sounds like you're trying to sell me a new car."

"Honestly the reason why I used this piece is because the motor inside the P.A.D. (Prosthetic Attachment Device) is a newer model. There should be no motor delay in your hand with this." The doctor made a few adjustments as Daniel reattached his "fingers". "Now, I want you to clench your fist once more."

Daniel balled up his fists, and this time the metal fingers reacted at the same time as his real ones. "It feels like the real deal," he joked. There was no feeling at all when he looked at it. Just more machinery.

---

Work was simple. After the accident, the Engineering Chief had relegated Daniel to second-string work; assisting other engineers, paperwork, equipment checks. He hated it. He spent six years in the charter school for engineering after his parents died, and finished up his education at a technical school. He graduated second in his damn class. And here he was, relegated as a partial cripple, while so many lesser men were doing a worse job.

He placed with the H.I.S. in his hand for a bit. Syncing it up with his colonial profile, restoring his daily planner-which alerted him over and over again his schedule for the day. Finally, lunch came, and he made his way to the cafeteria.

He sat with his old first-stingers, who had grown colder and more aloof to him the longer he'd been given "pet duty" after blowing up half his hand. And now he had a fancy new augmented hand?

When it finally came time to visit with the doctor; he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Sure the lady was cold, and she asked him if it had been his decision to get a prosthetic hand. When he told her that he just followed the advice of the medical staff, she would nod, and look at him, as if she were taking mental notes.

She was still a hell of a lot personable than half the people on the station.

So here he was, sitting outside the psychologist's office, waiting. What was he going to talk about today? Dead parents? Phantom limb? No friends?

Christ, it was almost funny to him. If he had a chance, he'd rather just lob off the rest of his left hand if it got him on a boat somewhere else; somewhere better.

Somewhere that he didn't feel so alone.

[Gowi]

It did not take long for Kareina to grasp where she needed to be and in moments and not more than a single two song shuffles did she begin to get settled for her entire day of which of course required the female doctor to touch technology. She knew this was technology that wasn't inherently threatening to her thoughts on anti-transhumanism but it still made the union colonial shiver at least subconsciously. Technology was necessary for progress and she knew that and her ancestors would not of fled Earth without it. It was a psychological quirk, a mental problem and one she wanted to clean away from herself. But without a therapist herself she could not help herself, not to mention they'd likely shove a therapist in her lap with three-hundred augmentations to the point he wasn't even alive, a cyborg existence; the thought made her shiver as she began to log into her systems. This led her to see a dozen messages from over the weekend, most of them from Samyaza Clarke; a fellow doctor, though he knew her feelings on augmentations but yet still came to her for the sessions and excessively sent her dream recordings.

"More dreams." Kareina sighed as she looked over her messages, "I know psychology requires some knowledge of oneirology, but I can't grasp metaphysical visions; and my colleague back on новое-рай who studies such things still hasn't gotten back to me." she added, muttering under her breath.

"Your first patient of the day is on route, Dr. Petukhov."

"Thank you, Azerbaijan, turn down the music volume by fifty percent as well if you could."

"Will that be all?"

"When the Ray Charles album is finished I'd like you to rotate it with the ususal few."

"Very well."

"Thank you."

"It is not a problem, doctor."

With all that in order, Kareina was ready to start working or moreover helping. The job of a therapist in space and the mania that came with space was always needed. If it wasn't claustrophobia, astrophobia or anything specific it was general anxiety of being trapped and alone in an environment that was as hollow as it was large. The great unknown had it's advantages but who was to say how far they went? It was her job in her mind to help in every aspect of mental health to the best of her ability and she always went the extra mile despite how alien it may of felt for her, especially when she was in contact of individuals with casual augmentations that meant nothing and were nothing in her eyes; but at the center of those hollow heretical technology there were men and women who suffered and didn't know where they should be going. Kareina had her problems, but they had worse problems and to her this was going to be just another day.

[Baconn96]

2319

The alarm was impossibly loud. Bennett cursed and hit the machine. It only screamed louder. With a string of curses, he sat up and pressed the button to halt the screaming. He yawned and looked around. Pitch black. There was a stale taste in his mouth; The lack of oxygen being exhaled. It was like thinking about blinking. If you did, you had to do it manually for a while before your body went back to being automated. It was the same. He would taste it for a while and then it would leave, only to come back later in the day.

Bennett slept shirtless most nights. He felt the cool, artificial air. He glanced down at his mangled SOAD tattoo. It had been blown apart by the sniper's bullet and he had never gotten it redone. He would when he got back into a team, preferably Alpha-Hotel. Any of them would work though. He had kept contact with his old teammates. Jacob was doing contract work for some corporation and Yuri had been rotated into an other team. Aaron had disappeared; No one knew where he went. He told them to keep and eye and ear open.

His morning started with exercises. He did seventy-five pushups followed by seventy-five crunches. He would run just after lunch. He took a shower, so hot it hurt. For the last minute of the shower, he turned off the hot. The liquid ice felt nice at first, then burned worse than the hot water. He stood there. It was self-control. just like cleaning his pistol every night. After the shower he put on cargo pants, a shirt with the words 'security' on the breast, and his black jacket. Why did he like it so much? It was new, so no history. It had never stopped a bullet like one he had as a SOAD recruit. It wasn't connected to anything. Whatever, it didn't matter. His PDS-AM1 handgun was put in the holster, which hung under his left armpit. The jacket covered it nicely.

"Chief Bennett," The AI said in an artificial voice,"You have a meeting with Doctor Clarke regarding future explorations at Ten O'clock. You also-"

"Good for me," Bennett said, "Tell me when I get there, not before. And lose the cheery voice."

"As you wish." More mechanical, but still artificial. "You have an appointment with Doctor Petukhov today at Two Thirty."

"Yeah, send a note saying I have unforeseen business."

"Chief Bennett, I started sending her copies of your schedule when you began skipping sessions. It is against my-"

"I'm not going, that's final."

Bennett walked out the door before the AI could respond. He hoped that the voice wouldn't follow him through the station. He had stuff to do, and the last thing he needed was another voice telling him what to do.