[Cross-post from internal corp forum. Little thing I wrote upon sitting down this morning. You can't expect everyone to come back after you take them from us. Edit: Song that was playing which inspired the writing.]"You understand, that if you are being dishonest or you are (God help you) joking with me, I am going to obliterate your entire family from the history of society, yes?"
The venerable figure, clad outwardly in his religious cloth, slowly sat up in his seat as he spoke. His golden eyes, replacements of the ones that had failed decades ago, focused ominously upon the nervous young attendant who had brought him the news.
"Y-y-y-yes. m'lord. I, uh we, that is to say they, the examiners, they're quite certain in their conclusion." he said. "It s-s-seems something malfunctioned when the nightmare she was on was destroyed. The body was in a section of the hull that maintained structural integrity long enough to permit recovery without significant damage to the..." The old man took in a raspy, angry breath, incensed by the cold, technical words being used, a fact that was immediately apparent. "M-m-m-my apologies, lordship. I was sent to bring you to the facility where th-.... forgive me, where she is."
Location classified.
The Holder stepped off the shuttle that had been assigned to him for the journey. As he was assisted off by his servants, he was immediately disgusted with the overbearing scent of sterility in the air. Horrid stench of perfect cleanliness. He wanted to spit upon it, the irony of a place dedicated to the re-humanising of the recovered and yet smelled of inhuman artificiality. He was approached by a guide who introduced himself and stated he was sent to escort him to the ward where the focus of his interest was located.
"Is she allright?" he demanded.
"We have removed virtually all of the Nation modifications, sir."
"That's not good enough! Get it all out of her, every trace of those godless abominations!"
"Sir, there are some things that are necessary at this point for sustaining her life. They are perfectly harmless pieces, I assure you we took out everything that could've posed any risk."
They continued on, past windowless bulkhead doors with large black numbers painted across them., and as they walked it occurred to the old man to ask a question as his anger subsided. "Is this a hospital or a prison?" a question which caused the guide to slow his step as he looked over his shoulder, responding silently with a grave gaze. He gestured to the dull grey door as they approached it, with the word MADIRMILIRE seared onto the door in black. It opened slowly, almost regretfully, and closed just as solemnly behind them after they passed.
The corridor was lined with rectangular modules with windows that clouded up as they entered, causing the hall to stretch between blocks of opaque, golden light. One remained perfectly clear, and it was this one the guide directed his companion towards. Inside this was an amarrian woman laying propped up in a relaxed sitting position in a bed. Laying there, sleeping, her eyes closed and her long, black hair down, she would seem to be serenely sleeping, were it not for the restraints on her wrists and ankles, holding her to the bed. It was at this that the old man gaped in shock and turned upon his escort in a fury.
"You told me you took everything you could out of her!"
The man nodded "We did."
"What is she doing strapped to the bed like a criminal for!"
"Because the implants weren't the problem. Aren't, the problem."
The guide gestured to the woman. A drug mix coursed through the tubes of her injections to bring her out of her induced unconscious state.
"We took out as much as we could. Nothing remaining in her is capable of influencing her behavior, and is only there because it's necessary. She is, for all intents and purposes, herself again. Unfortunately...." "
Don't you dare play games with me caldari. Tell me what is wrong, and how you're going to fix her!"
"With all due respect, sir, what is wrong isn't something we can do much about."
Eyelids fluttering and shifting on the bed took the amarrian's attention off his companion and back to her. Then, she stopped moving as every muscle tensed. Her eyes flew open, and the old man felt his heart die a small death as his ears were assaulted by her screaming. The caldari shut his eyes and winced; despite how many times he endured this, it never got much easier. As her shrieking continued, unabated except for desperate, sobbing attempts to inhale, the audio feed was cut from the module. By then, the old man felt his legs go limp, had fallen back, and would've soundly hit the floor had his attendants not held him aloft.
"It happens, to some of them. Whenever we try to wake them up, they shout their lungs out, and don't stop until they are physically unable to scream anymore. They don't usually get more lucid than that. Some of them eventually start rambling to themselves, pleading with us to send them back. Through the cries, we get bits and pieces of how quiet it is, how crushing the loneliness is. They beg us to let them hear the song again, to take away the silence in their heads. We can't let them be unrestrained. Any time we've tried, they immediately start clawing at their skulls and ripping out hair."
The caldari looked at the amarr with measured sadness and regret in his eyes. "There are some options... we can install hardware in the brain, to control their outbursts and provide some semblance of normalcy back, but at that point, how are we any different from the things that did this to them? We can keep her here, sedated so she's not in pain, or we can terminate her."
It was clear the aged holder was unable to make any decision, stunned as he still was. "I'll leave you here with her while you decide." The caldari walked away, back towards the corridor entrance. The holder stepped forward to press his body against the glass, watching the woman struggle against her binds, her mouth agape and screaming, though he couldn't hear it anymore. He slid down to his knees as she was again rendered unconscious, and looked on her tear-stained face, unable to understand why she would actually want to go back. He was unable to fight back his own tears, seeing what had become of the grand-daughter he had left, knowing his son and his wife and the rest of their children were all taken as she was, and as the water coursed from his eyes down his face, he felt his soul turn cold and he cursed the deity he had served all his life.
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Topic: Reversed Integration (Read 1089 times)