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User authenticated. Good morning, Science Chief Officer L304-104.
Current connection status through E1M8 utility cable: disconnected
Current device theme: custom.unverified.bmk
> Unverified or unaffiliated contacts. Please report to b̸͍͙̞͉̣̼̃̎͑̾̉̒̓̕4̵̜͇͙̯̒̀̂̒1̷̡̢̢̨̖͚̦̜͕̾3̵̬̻̲͉̟̻͛̂̾̿͒̃͒̉͋͒̚9̷̧̣̝̱͐͆͒̒̍̑̑̔́͆̋̚0̵͔̻͚̌͛͆̿́̾̏́͠ for software data backup recovery.
I am repurposing this allocated tab in my PDA to jot down anything of interest - new people, new things, opinions, that kinda stuff. I'm no longer on assignment - no reason to keep an assignment list anymore!
attachment name: TRS-PR5523001-calypso.gnc
⚠ "CERBERUS": A Liberty Navy battlecruiser, built in Norfolk specifically to murder me at all costs. Jokes aside, this large capital ship is often accompanied by a sizeable escort wing of fighters, often found between Liberty and Kusari though - systems such as Kepler, or Galileo or even Shikoku. A manifest datalog revealed that "Cerberus" and all of its friends never communicate with one another. There is zero communication whatsoever, and yet they are fully capable of organizing precise attacks against me. What is going on? (I gave it the name Cerberus, by the way. It sounds pretty darn badass, if you ask me.)
attachment name: TRS-PR5523001-cerberus.gnc
⚠ "INS-CALYPSO": This thing is the work of the devil. A Liberty Navy Defiant assault gunship, repurposed into a prototype of destruction, altered by the Insurgency's top eggheads. It contains some kind of highly advanced hyperspace matrix, capable of functioning under severe spatial stressors, with the ability to essentially beam up to five people across large portions space in the blink of an eye. I've struck a long-range programming node probe inside its massive hull, kind of like a spear of Longinus. Though, If I am to open the Vault for Harb, I'd better get my hands on her, stat. Also, there's some kind of fully sentient AI onboard, that developed by itself after I deployed my device in her belly. Am I a dad now?
> Registered implants status report and medical records
[*] AUG-OO-LE00 "OBSERVER"
INFORMATION: Left Eye Optic "OBSERVER" has received a successful installation procedure on subject L304-104 in 833 A.S within subject's left eye orbit. (Dissections from 1 to 10. Former organ was removed entirely.)
Loss of the original organic eye occurred during negligent release from Cryer operated cryostasis operations on a clinic in Denver. Subject was not present at one of our clinics during the time of aforementioned treatment. Patient's request to have access to software interface electro-neural functions was approved by head of medical staff BK-089.
INFORMATION: Synthetic Left Arm model K7 was installed on Patient L304-104 in 833 A.S in stead of most of subject's left arm. (Dissections from 1 to 1. Minimal loss of organic tissue occurred during surgery, thusly requiring little to no dissections. Organic limp stump augmented with the following documentation.)
Loss of the original organic arm occurred to a fatal incident, from which the subject successfully recovered through Cryer medical procedures. Patient returned to Elgin presenting a now discarded Cryer prosthesis before properly submitting to the clinic. Synaptic connections to the subject's nervous system were installed and weaved with subject's body to maximize neural impulse translating to cybernetic movement. Optimization occurs through five different focal nodes situated within LARMK7. (FOCAL NODE 01 TO 05.) Subject was cooperative, amiable and honest during procedure responses and questioning. Subject's requests to receive a, quote, "a wrist missile launcher with a detachable magnetic hand", end quote, have been denied by head of medical staff BK-089. Subject has been flagged for psychological screening and scheduling.
INFORMATION: Vertebrae Synaptic Deck H7 (INCLUDING ENHANCER NODES 01 TO 05) was installed on subject L304-104 in 830 A.S within subject's spine. (Dissections from 1 to 10. Former organic object removed entirely.)
Subject suffered intense spinal and muscular damage upon being captured by ████████. Subject's recovery time upon surgery proved itself to be 16% longer than most candidates. Subject remained cooperative during surgery and recovery procedures. Subject willingly accepted incomplete patches of synthetic epidermis in order to allow Technocrat clinics to have easier access to the H7 Deck rig for maintenance.
UPDATE 01/01/834: H7 Deck appears to now operate on an unverified, out-of-date H7 Deck firmware upon yearly software check-up routine. Subject was flagged for immediate firmware update procedure. - HOS BK-089
INFORMATION: Cardiovascular Blood Pump M9 was installed on Patient L304-104 in 833 A.S inside patient's thorax. (Dissections from 1 to 2. Former organ augmented with the following documentation.)
following an emergency Rejuvenation period due to a mild rupturing of subject's heart, owed to immense stressors occurring at the time of incident. The device functions as an auxiliary pump interconnected with subject's vascular veins and air chambers to solidify subject's vital functions, and prevent syncope, regulate blood stream flux in the eventuality of hemorrhages, and administer emergency nanites on ruptured vascular tissue through CVP-01's micro container.
INFORMATION: Auxiliary Neural Cerebral Interface "PRION" (No dissections required, as the "PRION" article was installed atop organic tissue) and Auxiliary Dermal Outlet (No dissections, as the outlet was also installed atop external organic tissue) were both installed on Subject L304-104 in 833 A.S upon their willing request, with both requests being approved by Facultative Augmentation Overseer Doctor Richter.
Subject's "OBSERVER" optic was tuned to operate with the "PRION" interface to grant access to functions granted by the H7 Deck, and access to the Auxiliary Dermal Outlet 01. The Outlet allows the subject to receive a direct influx of data through a cabled connection, and may compute it through the H7 Deck, whilst it is being neurally operated by the "PRION" matrix, connected in turn to the subject's neural cerebral input. Subject's request to "plug himself to a power outlet" minutes after regaining consciousness was denied and subsequently reported by an on-duty nurse. Subject has been flagged for psychological screening and scheduling.
22/04 - What a surprise - Juliet played me like an absolute fool. She guilt tripped me into handing over the key, only to threaten me with violence AND threaten me with the Nomads of all things. I think I've had it with these Techies, they think they can get away with treating me like this? Well, news flash. I'm not going to work for them anymore. Fuck the Final Journey. Fuck Raven. Fuck the Vagrant hive, and fuck everything about my stupid life as a Technocrat. I will only help my Chief from now on, and he will let me stay over to have my augs fixed in tip-top shape. If they're all going to go against me, well - Caliban is always an option. Provided he'll accept me into his graces anymore...
10/04 - Today was honestly not that bad. I got away from the Sigmas for a clean break from all that mulling-over I did over the whole Key business - Leviathan says that the imprint could be transferred on Juliet, and he says I should take the out because it'll help everyone else in the long run. Like hell I will. Anyways, a huge swarm of Nomads casually invaded the Sigmas. It was pretty crazy. So crazy that one of the Serpentis guys literally dived in the fight. I had to uncloak and help him eliminate any threats around us. Ah well, not my first rodeo. Not long after, I made my way back to Inverness to have some new braces installed on my legs, that way my broken bones can properly heal. But as I returned, a girl from the Omegas came to me - she contacted me about two weeks ago, needing my help with installing a Gammu engine on her little ship. Naturally, I couldn't say no. She reminded me of how easily excitable I used to be, and boy do I miss having that spark in my eyes. These days I'm either crying myself to sleep or I punch walls out of frustration and fury. Uh, right. As a Technocrat, I have a moral obligation to prevent any and all outsiders from snatching Gammu technology for their own benefit, but I'm no ordinary techie. I'm just me and I make my own damn rules, because no one controls me. So, I just let her have it. Hell, I helped her mount it on, even. I don't care about my repercussions. I don't care what happens. I don't care if Stavros nails me in his office until I beg for mercy.
I'm a dead man walking.
09/04 - The nightmares of the fire pervade me. They wake me up, they shake my dreams, they shake me awake with cold sweating. Viper, flying close behind my ass, shooting me down, the reactor leak set the fuel injection cells ablaze, sparking a massive fire under my seat, causing my legs to be caught in that boiling inferno with no way out. My pod activated just a little too late, after I inhaled so much smoke.
I never screamed so hard in my life. My legs were severely injured because of that incident. Third degree burns all over them. Walking is so agonizing, I have to manually disable my ship's G-diffusors to avoid feeling the pressure of gravity torture me.
I can't say I can keep myself from snapping for much longer. I can feel so much pent-up rage in me lately. This is unfair, and the ones who ruined me will HAVE TO pay for every single scar on my body. I want justice. And if I can't find it, I will make my own.
09/04 - Oh, shoot. I neglected my logs once again. My therapist thinks this is a good idea, sooo... time for some storytelling explained through journaling.
My name is Kristoff Avellone, I am... how old am I at this point. 28? Yeah, sounds about right. Damn, I'm getting old.
I used to be a young and naïve child born on Denver from a relatively stable family, I lived more or less happily with my mom and dad and my brother Charles, she worked as a medtech for Cryer, while my dad worked in the local law enforcement. I was mostly happier with my mom than I ever was around my dad, I was nowhere as strong as he was, and I looked like a stick on two legs when compared to Charles, dad really liked to compare me to him a lot. He wanted me to get beefier and more social and smarter, as any dad would, really. But I learned to cheat my way through life, whether that was through tests or even getting a free soda from my nearest vending machine. It felt easy. It felt rewarding, to do what Charlie could accomplish with a miniscule fraction of the effort. Mother wasn't always very happy with my ways, my parents often looked at me like I was some kind of criminal. I was a naughty trouble child ever since I learned that being sneaky and stealing my classmate's pocket change would benefit me more than actually earning it myself. Everything changed since my mom died when I was around fifteen or so. She always healed my wounds every time I would get in a scrap with my schoolmates who didn't really like me. Without her, things seemingly went on an endless downward spiral, as Charles surpassed me in almost every aspect, and I was forced to live under his shadow for the rest of my time in Denver. I finished my robotics and engineering college degree at the Denver Appalachian University with some relatively decent scores, it was a very needed clean break from all the drama I had to endure back home. And after multiple months in my internship on Pueblo, I got a little carried away in my mechanical engineering development and caused a few in-atmosphere shuttle engines to explode, causing thousands of credits in damage and for my compulsory expulsion from the course as a whole. It was supposed to be my ticket into coming back with my family and not having Charlie climbing my ass ever again. And to top it all off, my boyfriend Brandon and I had a huge misunderstanding along the way, which caused us to drift apart even further. He went on to finish his studies, while I failed miserably. In complete desperation, I left Denver after a scout recruiter from the Technocracy found me. I joined in as a basic techie, listening to the lessons my instructors, including Leviathan, would instruct me with. They taught me a lot of things, like EVA suit flight training, advanced mechatronic classes as well as engineering training. Hefty and complex stuff, but facilitated with the help of VR training, a nice break from all the hours spent breaking my back over indecipherable holo-book files. Things changed once again when I began to be a pilot, initially part of engineering convoys sent around Valravn to fix ships and oversee the little drones administering nanites in the right spots, until I got my own fighter and used it to get around with Raven. Big mistake. As time went on, I was introduced to the Sentinels, Harbinger, Vatan, Caliban and the Baxters. I was tossed in the metaphorical meatgrinder, as the Sentinel attacks became more and more frequent and took chunk after chunk out of my body. The physical pain I had to endure in these last few years was maddening. Our missions were becoming more and more dangerous, and I did it all out of an unrequited need to protect or help Raven. She was just an old woman in my eyes, a mom who took all the wrong choices in life, and lost her husband to some kind of shootout in the Omicrons, by our own people no less. They had to put him down for... whatever reason. As time went on, the lines between what was clear and what's murky blurred together. I had to be a two-faced liar to keep up with Raven's absurd political stances. This came to bite me in the ass completely when Hemlocke, the pack leader of the Rogues, abducted and tortured me because I was a little too concerned for Raven. I would not have survived if it weren't for my friend Aspen. She saved my life without anything in return. She was funny and witty and... damn, I miss her all the time. She made me understand that Raven was not all that okay in the head after all. Was Raven not the person I thought she was? Or did she simply not care that I risked my life and soul for her, time and time again? Things... kind of slowed down since then. I had more time to build my personal life. I met Rebecca, who turned out to rely on me a little too much (no one is supposed to rely on me, for I am worthless scrap), and Levan, who is a pretty boy from Pittsburgh, he's cute as much as he is controlling and demanding. What I liked more about him was being cuddled up against him, and being told that things would turn out fine. But sadly, I broke his trust. I would leave in the middle of the morning to go back to work for the technocracy as he was still sleeping. I lied to him a bunch of times, just because I didn't want Raven to be mad at me. Big mistake. A few months later, I had a terrible accident while flying on Levan's Gunboat, the Gemini Kay. A mine destroyed the life support systems, the fuel injector line caught on fire, and the entire thing plummeted down below in the orbit of Denver. I was able to kick Levan in the only escape pod that was readily available, as I was ready to embrace my inevitable fate. To some cruel twist of fate, I survived a planetary re-entry, which is honestly crazy to think about. True, I had third degree burns, broken bones and a missing arm and an eye in the accident, but top-notch Cryer surgery put me all back together. Levan paid dearly to make this work, but I no longer looked like a horror movie prop. In fact, I looked a tad better than before, my face looked smoother, my skin felt more flexible and moisturized. Too bad they totally ruined my expectations by sending me off with a basic red claw-like prosthetic that looked ugly as hell. I later received a full augmentation rig to cover up for my missing bits, with a brand new spine, a new optic device in my bum eye, a new back-of-the-neck device that does a bunch of stuff, among a few other things. Things began to look up for once. After an expedition in the Omicrons, Harbinger finds me - he is the one Nomad who wants to discover everything there is to know about his ancestral race by being kind of a schemer. He subjugated Caliban to his whims by giving him some kind of weird brain worm, though for some reason he's refraining from doing the same to me. He instead gifted me his mark, an imprint that could potentially unveil secrets Raven will never bother explaining to me, because I'm nothing to her. And speaking of which, my distaste for Raven only got worse, as she kept lying to me, she continued to hide things from me, and treated me like I am a child. I was fed up with her, and abandoned the Technocracy for good. But a severe lack of maintenance blocked my joints and caused my H7 masterdeck to overheat at all times. Not good. I had to return to the Technocracy to have everything fixed up. But then, the unthinkable happens: chief Leviathan returns with the milk from the store. Well, he's actually an identical cybernetic copy of him, actually. A perfect imitation I am accepting as the real article, because I am very depressed and very desperate. Besides, he is the man who accepted my idiotic 20-something-year-old backside and turned me into a man by teaching me all of his tricks. I couldn't say no to his request for help. And well, here I am now. Hating my life, mourning the death of my best friend, being told what to do by so many different people (INCLUDING LEVAN) just because a Nomad gave me a brain sticker. I'm getting sick of it all. My sanity is on the razor's edge lately. I feel like I'm very, very close to losing my marbles for good.
26/01 - Ohhh boy. Where do I even start?
Around two weeks ago, I attempted to end my own life - crazy, I know. But thanks to my shaky hands and aversion to wanting to actually die, the bolt whiffed me, and it bounced around the cockpit of my Marauder, hitting me right in the shoulder. Painful shit. Anyways, I crawled out of my shoebox of death, until some researchers from Ames picked me up and brought me to an infirmary - they definitely possessed nothing that could ever possibly match the nano-regenerative paste that is produced on the Citadel, but they had the spirit and the empathy to care for their patients. I woke up in a bed, my neck port plugged to some monitors all around me that displayed my vital signs and information on the... dozens of augs stuck in my body. (It also had this lovely scent of hand sanitizer - reminds me of mom, kinda.) Anyhow, it wasn't even two days in my depressed slumber until Levan came to visit me at my bed, all concerned with beady puppy dog eyes. He promised me we'd leave to New Berlin and finish my shoulder treatment there. It was all fine and dandy, until Raven came waltzing through the dark matter storms of Kepler and, quite literally sedated me before kidnapping me back to Valravn. (She still claims it wasn't a sedative, by the way! The nerve on the old cunt!) That was pretty much the last straw, because after a while of mentally tumbling down, almost being mind-broken by a goddamn Nomad Elder and being kicked down in the ribs for my mistakes by Raven, I called it quits - totally out of the Technocracy. Not... exactly in the way she wanted to get me out, to be fair. That part required deactivation of my augs, among with erasing some of my memories. But I'm not going to be under anyone's leash, ever again.
Now I'm wandering around Sirius, with no real destination, with Rebecca following me for some reason - I expected her to maybe reprimand me for not doing anything and sitting on my ass all day, but she is fine with being as empty-headed as I am. Kind of a red flag.
06/01 - i want to jab myself with drug needles until i am going to turn into a jittering, drooling, bleeding, lobotomized corpse on the floor
05/01 - i need more nox
05/12 - December starts with a bang. Oh, man... what an interesting day this was. Levan has been apparently accused of possessing some information, so vital and crucial that I can't even know about it! It's so important to the point she wants to assassinate or mindwipe him. She went as far as claiming that he has some access codes that are so important they could compromise the entirety of the Technocracy. And I can't even ask about it, because I don't have enough fucking clearance access! Oh, and just to add insult to injury: the bitch revoked my comm and landing pad access. Apparently, brain damage and constant blackmail from an ungodly space entity leads you to doing some pretty dumb decisions, like caging a human being-- okay, well it's not really caging, because I haven't been brigged, so there's that. But still!
After casually telling me that my lover may have potentially betrayed me and sold restricted information out to the Order, she brought me in for a surprise expedition inside the Anchor, and she led me through one of the many ancient entryway gates. This one led us to a vast solar system surrounded by a myriad of grey clouds enveloping it, and it had a rather somber and spectral tone to it. It reminded me a lot about this one story wrote back when people used to etch their frenzied creative ideas into stone tablets back in Ol' Sol. Something about a dude who crossed the River Styx to see his beloved on the other side. I don't remember the details, but I totally remember this underworld river that connects the two sides together. And so, I called these weird structures that connect the system on both sides "Ferrymen" and everyone kind of rolled with it. Then obviously, some fucking Sentinels just had to come in and ruin the fun, so we left the area pretty quickly. I wonder what the point of that was.
On the way out, I met Hemlocke, of all people. The guy who is one steroid injection away from bursting like a soap bubble. And he went on and on with his idiotic platitudes about how I'm not a good friend to Raven for not calling her Revenant and for not forgoing her past, deceased identity or whatever. He's an idiot, but he gave me a free Jefferson Smith so we're totally square now. I suppose Becca will have to be my errand girl while I'm stuck in this place. Though, I'm not sure if a warm cup of Sunbucks will ever make it past the customs gate...
21/11 - I've met an interesting wayward individual, named Johnny Silverstone. Very curious fella - talked about Raven's days before she ever joined in with the Core. Apparently, she was not a soldier, but some kind of reporter who fell in love with Joshua Hunt and then they banged. What kind of lies has she been feeding me this whole time? Why can't she ever be honest with me? Anywho, I'm about to meet with Empress. I hope I'm not going to have my neck snapped inside a bathroom stall.
Meeting's over. The Empress, or rather Cassandra Hayes, is actually a relatively kind and normal lady. She seemed somewhat militant, looked like a very sweet mom in her fourties who wouldn't hesitate to pull a trigger to your skull if it meant everything for the mission. However, I must've been very lucky 'cause we had a normal, civilized discussion before some awful coffee. The conversation derailed from a reasonable explanation about the Abrams Reserach Station incident into her trying to prod me for information about Harbinger and the Vault and all the things I've avidly collected over the years. Not a chance, ma'am. You are not gonna groom me into your tool, because I'm already a tool for someone a little cooler than you, she lacks an eye and she also baked me a pie. Cassandra was nice, but I gotta say, I'm a little bit disappointed. In the end, the conversation ended with a half-hearted handshake. Both agreeing that we will be working against the things that divide us to work together in doing something about that nasty "final journey" business. Ah, well.
17/11 - It's been a fun vacation. Levan really wanted to cuddle a lot and it was adorable to see. And also, news flash: ASPEN HARLOW HAS A GIRLFRIEND. I REPEAT, ASPEN HARLOW HAS A G-- wait, why am I writing this? I don't have to throw in personal notes like it's a fucking pink diary notebook full of glitters and sparkles. Alright, so here's what's really important: I'm meeting Empress and I might get shot in the head. The end.
13/11 - Been a rather quiet day here in Curacao. While I was out here relaxing on his bed, Empress of all people wants to have a talk with me. She is the point of contention between Cal, Rev, Cobra and everyone involved in the Bering disaster. I have foolishly agreed to meet her, I'm thinking of going to a diner somewhere. The irony of this is painfully ridiculous: "An Order agent and a Joe Schmoe Technocrat walk into a bar." Fuck! I can't let Rev catch me talking to the literal murderer of her boyfriend or whatever. I'm going to be called and hanged as a traitor for sure. I HAVE to keep this under wraps, or I'm a dead man. Nobody has to know.
12/11 - I've finally met Levan and Aspen after a long time. They were both really happy to see me, and it was genuinely heartwarming. I love those two rabble rousers. What I don't like so much about them is the disdain they have for the people I work for - I know they ain't saintly angels with halos over them, but I cannot help but feel... conflicted.
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