Blurry. That would be the extent of Alistair’s state at this current moment. His mind was nauseatingly exhausted, like someone had taken a tired drunken mind and submerged it in warm bath water.

  “Come on Princess! Stay with me here!” an unknown voice echoes around him. The rushing of cold air suddenly turns warm as he feels his body slowly lull in and out of consciousness. The curious mind he had felt brushing up against him had disturbed the memory, shaking him from the hellscape of losing his mentor.

  A blessing, he thought, who was that anyway?

  He feels a small thud echo through him as he is set down on something. He tries to open his eyes, only to find that the scenery had changed since the last time he had opened them. White phosphorescent lights glared at him from above as numerous faces glanced periodically with concern.

  “Doc, go ahead and begin phase one of Project SCION. If there is—”

  “Now?! Are you out of your mind?! Memory generated psionic lacerations and burns are not what I’d call a healthy specimen! How can I operate on a subject this brok—” the frantic voice fades briefly as numbness overtakes his body with pieces of the conversation hinging upon a single word.

  Implantation? Wha-? He wonders as a mission page blinks to life before him.

  Relationship level, the hell is that?

  The voices fade out briefly as a sharp dagger of pain spears his mind. The minutes pass in relative unadulterated pain as the lull of voices argue for a good few minutes before the pain edged off enough for him to gain a grasp of the last words of the argument.

  “… I’m sure. Alistair agreed to be the guinea pig for the final trial. The least we can do is patch up what other issues he already has going on in that body of his.”

  Hold on, that’s a bloody lie! Since when did I agree to something like this?! Just as he finishes reading the page, he chuckles within the depths of his mind before recalling the last moments of his conversation with Barbas

  “What do you mean nano-based bionic augmentation?” Eli inquires. His answer seemed to be of the self-explanatory kind judging by the blank looks he was given in return.

  “Nano-based bionic augmentation,” Barbas sighs taking the hat from his head, “is essentially bionic genetic therapy using the nanites within Corellec’s Animatus. The nanites are experimental to begin with and seeing as you are already immersed within the bath, the nanites would change your genetic structure down to the cellular level.”

  This explanation must have been too much for Eli because he was giving the old man a look like he had grown a third head.

  “What?” Barbas bristles.

  “Doesn’t that infringe on a number of augmentation and cyberware therapy accords and patents?” Eli asks, drawing upon the limited knowledge of previous experimentation done within the field. Nano therapy had been used to solve a number of genetic disorders in the past century ever since nanites were found to be particularly effective at surgically altering a cells organic structure.

  “That would indeed be the case except we aren’t really taking the stance of simple subtraction and addition of individual strands. If given the chance, we could grow you a new set of organs straight out of a modified piece of your DNA structure. This way, the nanites can bionically grow the organ within you while changing the consistency of your mutations in order to stabilize your genetic structure on a broader spectrum.”

  “Papa~. You are confusing him!” Jenny pipes up as she watches Eli’s face scrunch up the further the explanation dragged on.

  “Fine.” Barbas curtly replies. “Think of it this way. Everything that happens to you inside Neos, medically speaking, can be replicated inside your Animatus to your physical body.”

  Eli stares at them mutely. To be shocked at such a revelation would have been an understatement. At least, that was until he started his next sentence in a whisper.

  “Are you trying to turn me into a monster?”

  Jenny and Barbas gaze sheepishly at him. Not understanding where he was going with it, Barbas responds.

  “However could you mean?”

  “Think of it from my point of view. One of the premises of this game, at least from what I’ve gathered, is that each species or race has a set maximum when it comes to acquired attributes. The way to change this would be through enhancements or at least augmentation.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Jenny and Barbas exchange an uneasy glance as his unsaid hint hits the both of them. In short, if he agrees to this, the only viable way that he does something even remotely stabilizing when it came to his genetic structure would be to strengthen it and his body to absurd levels. Eli begins pacing nervously as he awaits their answer.

  “Well,” Jenny states tentatively, “we can fine tune the nanites from here so don’t worry about turning into a monster. Just go ahead and play the game.”

  “Your answer doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” Eli states bluntly, as if to further drive his point home. Watching as neither of the two showed and outward signs of budging or at least revealing a way to settle his fears further, he sighs. “Well, alright then. I guess you should send me— hold on. Does this mean I need to have a different supervisor now that—”

  “No,” Barbas interrupts, “she and her team leader will be updated on your circumstances so that there will be no issues in the future.”

  Eli nods in agreement.

  “Anything else?” Barbas asks.

  “Nope, that should be it.”

  “Alright.” Barbas states and pulls up a page. “I’ll send you back. Don’t get lost now!”

  I guess this is what they meant, Alistair silently ponders, let’s see if they are as good as their word.

  Blinking away the perspiration gathering in his eyes, he recognizes a page blaring in his field of vision.

  Despite the pain racking his body, he manages to lift his head enough to get a glimpse of the state he is in. The memory of his death match with Mavrik had apparently reoccurred upon his body as his psionic powers had forced his body to think it was back inside that memory.

  Lying as he was on the operation table, his body was covered with swathes of burned flesh and blood oozing out of each cut. Each patch of blackened skin and muscle committing the horrible memory of that day once more into his mind.

  Damn, he thinks, could really use a drink right about now. He notices another few pages blinking behind the one in front of him and decides to view them seeing as there wasn’t much he could do now.

  Just as he finishes reading, he chuckles silently before he hears a voice state they are administering the anesthetic. Inwardly, he smiles as the sweet embrace of sleep and darkness overwhelms him. Before the inner light goes out he wonders once more.

  I wonder how Daria is doing.

  “-All hands, preparing for re-entry.-” AVI’s voice echoes through the steel grated halls of the Eudora. With the crew already impatient for the mission to come underway, the majority took the time to sleep while they still could. Those that did knew full well that any contact near Wild Space.

  With AVI’s declaration becoming the klaxon call that woke them up, the crew begins their normal procedures before going to their posts. Upon the bridge, those who always seem to be awake burning the metaphorical midnight oil shuffle carefully the various command prompts that were needed in order to prepare for a smooth re-entry to real-space.

  Castor sits upon the command throne overseeing all of their actions. Outwardly, he seemed akin to a statue, resolute and unmoving upon the iron throne that he was perched. One could wonder whether or not he was still breathing, if only one didn’t take into account the miniscule movement from his plated chest as he breathes shallow breaths. Unbeknownst to the others on the bridge, he was actually connected to the ship through the various ports in the command throne. In essence, he was the ship and the ship was he.

  The front viewport sat open as the stars flew past like strobing cars making their way through a busy street night in a downtown area.

  “-Preparations complete. Re-entry in 5… 4… 3… 2…-”

  The ship lurches once more as the inertia dampeners fail to keep everything down. Everyone on the bridge stares out of the viewport in abject fascination. To say the Roilla system was odd would have been an understatement by far.

  There were three planets, two suns, and four concentric rings of asteroids. The planets, all varying in size and shape, consisted of: an agricultural water world, a small gas world, and multicolored world that was shaped in the image of a giant donut. There was no time for the crew’s science division to find out any of the specifics other than that the gravitational frequencies shaping the planet in the image it currently rested.

  “Comms, any contact from the survey team?” Castor inquires. The crew going back into their usual rhythm.

  “Negative sir, and there is no hint that they are even in the system.”

  “Hopefully we didn’t pick up a false trail here.” Castor remarks, casting a glance at them before retreating his senses into the sensors of the ship. With AVI’s aid, he combed the system to see if they were anywhere they hadn’t looked or were incapable of looking at the current moment.

  -Any ideas AVI?- he inquires to the A.I.

  -Only that the survey team should already be waiting for us. Their message seemed urgent back when they had first sent it. I’ll—

  Suddenly, a flash of light glints off of one of the sensors.

  -Found you.- He remarks. -AVI bring us to the outer—

  The location of the previous glint explodes as torpedoes dance out of the asteroid field to race toward them.

  -Frak, evasive maneuvers!-