An Unwilling SiNNER

[Reaver Company Inc.]

The heavy door slid open with a clang, pouring bright light into the dimmed cell. A lone man crouched on the floor, shielding his eyes from the sudden change in intensity. 4 figures loomed beyond, hidden by the blinding light.

A rough voice spoke. "This him?"

A second, easily identified as a Kusarian, answered. "Hai."

The first responded. "Doesnt look like much."

A new voice drawled, similar to the first but not quite the same. "Doesnt matter. This is the one we want. His genetics make him a prime target."

Again, the first one replied. "All right. Let's swap 'em."

A Kusari Navel Forces Marine stepped in and motioned the prisoner out. Stumbling towards the four, the bedraggled and broken man was finally able to register the others. One was a Marine, probably from one of the KNF battleships or destroyers. The second was another prisoner, like himself. Already dressed in the neon-orange jump-suite of the Fuchu prisoners, oddly enough with his number printed on the newcomers back. The last pair gave the original prisoner pause. They were dressed in a strange armor, unfamiliar weapons clipped to harnesses and faces hidden behind reflective visors. The logo on their uniforms was easy to identify, however; SiN Tech. The prisoner looked at them in bewilderment. What were SiN Tech goons doing on Fuchu? What sway did they have over the KNF that let them access the prison? And why did that new inmate have his number?

The original was grabbed by the SiN Tech troopers, and the newcomer shoved into the cell. The one on his left, First, began speaking.

"Only one good one out of this bunch. Feh. A whole prison and we only get one keeper."

Second, on his right, snorted and the pair began dragging the inmate away. The KNF marine closed the prison door and locked it again. Taking out a data-pad and a light pen, the marine opened up the prison logs.

INMATE: 108756
NAME: Wiliam Patrick
AFILIATION: Xeno Terrorist

Using the pen, he erased a section of the entry and wrote in a different word. Now the entry read,

INMATE: 108756
NAME: Wilhelm Patterson
AFILIATION: Xeno Terrorist

With the little dirty deed done, the marine walked back to his ship. The clangs of an undocking vessel reverberated out down the hall, and Wilhelm shivered. There were rumors about what SiN Tech did, rumors of experiments, highly illegal ones done with live humans in the boarder worlds. Rumors SiN Tech firmly denied, but then again, who wouldn't? Wilhelm prayed to God quietly, wishing with all his might that Wiliam wouldn't suffer long in SiN Tech's hands.

****

The flight was uneventful for Wiliam. In fact, save for the different room and the thrumming of drive engines, he could swear he was still on Fuchu. Until, that was, the ship docked. Pings rang out over the hull, and the door slid open. Two troopers stood outside, small compact blasters cradled in their hands.

"Come on now. Time to go." Wiliam walked out of the room, still confused as to what was going on but in entirely no position to argue with the armed goons. His arms were jerked behind is back and cuffs applied to his wrists, rendering any hope of rebellion utterly futile.

"March!" The second barked out, and they prodded Wiliam down the cold steel corridors. Out of the ship, through a docking seal, and into a station. A walk by a window gave Wiliam a chance to get his bearings. The station looked strangely circular, with a tower sticking up at the back. A blue cloud surrounded them, and Wiliam realized where they were with a start. This must be Aomori in Honshu! But Aomori was a GMG base, so what was SiN Tech doing...

His unspoken question was answered as they entered a main concourse. Just down the large corridor was a sign over what looked like a mall shop entrance; SiN Tech.

So, even in Kusari these SiN Tech bastards have a hold. Wiliam thought darkly to himself. Damn it. Good Libritonians sullying themselves by associating with these foreigners... It goes beyond the pale!

They entered the store, for lack of a better term, to find shelves displaying weapons and drug ampoules, plus several advertisements for body mods that SiN Tech was famous for. Four more armed guards stood around the room, and a droid stood behind the counter and manned the register. Up to a door marked "SiN Tech Employees ONLY" the troopers marched Wiliam. First entered a complex code into a panel and the door slid open. An airlock awaited them, and there was only enough room for Wiliam and his two guards. Obviously a designed feature.

Once the second doors opened, Wiliam was greeted with the sight of a lab. A very disturbing lab. Two dissecting tables sat in one corner, one recently used and still dripping with gore. Tubes and tanks held concoctions of unknown and presumably vile intentions, machines whirred and beeped to themselves, and a small team of techs watched over everything with an air of intense excitement.

"Hey doc!" First called out to one of the techs, and a man dressed in a blue smock, hood, mask, and visor over his eyes turned.

"Got another that fits the specs for ya!"

"Indeed?" The man couldn't have been more then thirty, judging by his voice. He flipped up the visor and looked over Wiliam with a strange interest. It made Wiliam uncomfortable; the man didn't see him as a human, that doctor saw him as meat.

"Yeah. You about ready for the trials? This is the last of the 4 you wanted for the initial run." Second was the one talking now, his drawl making him seem almost bored with the world.

The tech nodded. "Yes yes, we can start today. Now, in fact. Get him in the tank." He turned away and Wiliam found himself taken towards one of the large immersion tanks on the wall, the three beside him already filled with other people. Now Wiliam began to struggle and fight his captors.

"Hey, cut that out!" Wiliam tried his best to force the two troopers off of him, tried to get away, but a bash on the back of his head stunned him for just long enough to get him dropped in the tank and the walls to rise. Now he was trapped. Stuck in this tube awaiting an unknown fate. When the gas poured out of the vents at the top, Wiliam was so sure he was going to die. He slipped into blackness, still attempting to ready himself for a meeting with his maker.

****

Consciousness came as a surprise to the Xeno commander. He opened his eyes, only to find himself still stuck in the laboratory. However, several things had changed. For one, he was now spread eagle in the tank on the wall, his back pressed against the cold metal, his arms and legs secured to it as was his neck. The second was apparently obvious as the cold metal pressed flush against his flesh, was that he was naked. Naked, shaved, and washed, it seemed. He felt no hair on his head, or anywhere else for that matter. As he moved his head around as much as he could, given the restraints, he was several wires and tubes traveling down and then into his arms. By the slight tugging of flesh at his scalp, he could only assume some of said wires and tubes entered his skull as well.

Something was traveling down those tubes; Wiliam struggled, trying to break the metal restraints, as the strange liquid began to enter his veins. Nothing happened for a time, and then fire spread throughout him like an inferno. He screamed, crying out in pain and anguish, the pain only increasing further. His cry took an unhealthily high pitch before he passed out into blessed blackness.

****

Again, Wiliam awoke once more to the lab. Now, strapped down to a table, he found that his whole body ached.

At least the wires are gone. The stray thought danced in his head for a time. Apparently, the techs were elsewhere and his head and neck were unbound. Taking this opportunity to look around, he discovered his skin was now a bright red. Hairless still, it looked almost like his skin had been flayed off to reveal the muscle underneath. But that was his skin, he could tell. Muscle didn't have nerves, and he could easily feel the chill table under his still naked body. Modesty, it seemed, was not applied to test subjects.

He looked across the room and saw, suspended in one of the tanks, a creature. One that looks like it was torn right out of Hell, this steaming monstrosity was a combination of flesh and metallic armor grafted directly onto it.

The beast steamed in the tank, whisks of moisture wafting off in reddish clouds. The creatures skin was red, as red as... Wiliam shuddered, as his own.

"Like it?" Wiliam jumped at the sudden intrusion. The head technician that had begun this awful process stood looking down at him.

"It's called the SiNNER Project. Stands for SiN Nano Enhanced Recombinant. It's a mix of machine and flesh, an effort to develop a super soldier. The nanobots in your veins and body repair both flesh and metal at rapid speeds, boost endurance and strength, and perform a variety of different tasks. The recombinant part comes from the grafting of genetic code into your standard sequence. Like those of certain lizards for regeneration, or those of eagles for eyesight, even some custom designed ones for strength and agility."

The tech paused to take a breath, Wiliam's eyes growing bigger and bigger as he went on.

"The steaming is an unfortunate side effect. To make all this work, the body temperature has to be raised quite a bit. Thermal sensors are going to be a problem, but exact targeting would be difficult because the heat is transferred all around in the ambient air. All they would pick up would be a big blob of heat."

Again, the tech paused. Wiliam took this opportunity to speak. "So, once I get all this, what makes you think I'll follow your orders?"

The tech looked down at Wiliam's hate-filled face and gave what could have been a reassuring smile. "Oh, don't worry about that at all. We're going to wipe your memories once everything else is done. The perfect soldier is loyal to the end, never questions, and has no family ties. Once we're done, you won't be you anymore, whoever you were to begin with." Wiliam stared at the man with horror now, all hate forgotten.

"Good God, man! You can't possibly..."

The tech looked up at the ceiling. "Spinal tap, please."

A quick jab in the back of Wiliams neck and the world exploded into blackness for the third, and final, time.

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