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A/)- The Inner Phalanx · (This post was last modified: 05-27-2019, 12:47 PM by A/)- The Inner Phalanx.)

“You’ll need to change into a medical gown.” A hooded figure had said, speaking through a voice modulator.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Replied Keeper Raven, as the pair passed through a set of doors into a medical bay.

The two came face to face with an abnormally tall man, who kept a cane in his hand. Around them, sets of pod-like beds with automated medical equipment filled the room to the far wall. Two turrets hung from the corners of the ceiling, opposite one another to cover the entirety of the room. The bright white lights cast few shadows in the medbay. The man examined the two closely, placing a finger on his chin as he did. He nodded, and slowly limped his way to the side, retrieving a white medical gown. He returned, using his cane to steady himself as he moved back towards the two. He reached his hand out towards Sapphire, offering her the gown.

“Here you are, Keeper. There is an isolation room at the far wall where you might change in private.” He turned his shoulders and pointed at a metallic sliding door in the corner.

“R-right… Uhm…” Raven nodded and looked over at the Curator. The hooded figure nodded slightly, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sapphire let out a sigh, and stepped past Michael Glass. She headed over to the door and stepped inside the isolation room. She began to strip down and set aside her clothes, dawning the medical gown and tying it to hold it in place, to prevent it from parting in the rear. She opened the door once again and cautiously approached the two near the end of the medbay. Glass had turned to face her, adjusting his cane to support himself.

“The procedure is entirely automated by the medical equipment in each pod. The automated doctor will handle the application of the anesthetic, as well as the sample retrieval for the project.” He gestured slowly towards a nearby bed, waving his hand outwards. “All you have to do is lay down. You won’t remember the procedure, and the two hours that follow it, due to the nature of the anesthetic. The Curator will remain by your side the entire time.” He returned both hands to his cane and looked at her. Raven looked between the bed, the Curator, and Michael. She nervously crawled onto the bed and layed down flat on her back. The pod closed around her, and she shut her eyes tightly. The Curator approached the pod and placed an armored hand on the glass. The machinery began to work, placing heart sensors and other wires across her body. A needle inserted itself into her arm after spraying isopropyl over the vein. Raven slowly began to lose consciousness.

The automated machinery worked through the hours without a break, as an ultrasound-guided needle collected samples from the Keeper. Michael had withdrawn himself from the room, while the Curator remained and observed throughout the entire procedure. The sample was put into a containment canister, and detached from the automated doctor. A set of drones appeared and retrieved it, taking it out of the medbay to Cold Storage. The machinery whizzed to a stop, withdrawing the needles and sterilizing them. The sensors monitored Sapphire’s vitals for a while, as she lay still across the bed inside the pod. She remained that way for an hour more, a steady heartbeat and no sign of vital changes. The Curator had stepped over to the isolation room. He collected her belongings and clothing, bringing them out to the medbay. The pod opened up shortly after he returned, disconnecting the monitor equipment. Raven had awoken, slowly sitting upright on the bed. She rubbed her head and groaned.

“Urrgh... I… Head.” She said, softly, looking around the medbay. She stood up, wobbling around before catching herself on the bed. The Curator walked over and locked his arm with hers, supporting her weight. Her clothing was balled up on his other side. He slowly began to guide her from the bed to the doors. Michael waited outside, looking around at the security personnel. The doors opened, and the two slowly moved out. The Curator eyed Michael through his helmet, and they nodded. Glass returned to the medbay, the door closing behind him.

The two shuffled their way carefully through the halls of the Eidolon Wraith, passing many soldiers. The halls were dark and dimly lit. Raven had begun to put more and more of her weight onto the Curator. She slowly looked around, dazed from the procedure and blissfully unaware of what had happened only minutes prior. They arrived to a door, and the Curator pushed it open, guiding her through it into their quarters. He lead her through the entrance to the bedroom and set her belongings aside. He helped her into bed and removed her medical gown, balling it up and tossing it into the nearby bin. He covered her with the blanket.

“Get some rest, I’ll keep an eye on things.” He said, tucking her in. She weakly nodded and shut her eyes. He immediately began collecting her clothing and returning it to the closet. He removed a bathrobe and set it near the bed on the end table. He looked down at her and smiled under his helmet. He adjusted his cloak and headed into the main room of their quarters. He sat himself on one of the couches and looked around. He removed his datapad from his belt and read through it. An hour had passed, and he returned to the bedroom. He checked on Raven once again, who was sound asleep. He left the room and returned to the medbay. Michael was waiting for him.

“Now it’s your turn. Use the isolation room. There’s a container present.” Glass said, gesturing to the door at the opposite end of the medbay. Michael stepped aside as the hooded man swiftly moved past for the door. He stepped inside and closed it behind him. Michael began scrolling through a datapad, reading a document titled ‘Thalatte’. There were numbers, graphs, and paragraphs of writing on his screen. He continued to scroll for fifteen minutes, before a single guard entered the medical bay and approached him. Glass looked over at the isolation room briefly, then lowered the datapad and looked at the guard. The guard appeared to be more machine the man, clad in black armor and armed with a strange rifle.

“You’ve been cleared to enter Zeta section to monitor the first phase under escort.” The guard offered Michael a small card. “This will get you through the checkpoints and your bioscan was added to the security screening process for the turrets. Four guards will accompany you to the lab.” Michael took the card and attached it to his belt. He nodded to the guard. “I don’t think so much security is necessary for someone in my condition.” He chuckled lightly, yet the guard appeared unamused. He silently turned and left the medical bay, leaving Glass alone. Glass returned to reading through the document. Nearing the top of the hour, the Curator emerged from the isolation room with a container. He handed it to Michael and left, swiftly and silently returning to his quarters to check on the Keeper once more. Michael handed the container to a nearby drone, which carried it off to cold storage. Glass scrolled through the document and looked around the medical bay. He let out a sigh and began to limp out to his room, the doors closing behind him.

Meanwhile, the Curator had returned to his and the Keeper’s quarters. He stood in the bedroom near a wardrobe. He disconnected his cloak from his belt, and removed it, revealing his armor in full light. He raised his wrist, typing into a miniature keypad. A holographic display was projected above the small wrist-mounted console. He continued to type, disengaging the armor lock. The display vanished, and he outstretched his arms to the side. His armor began to open, unfolding and moving. He stepped out of the husk, wearing a plain gray jumpsuit. He looked around, rubbing his chin slightly. Joshua Hunt, clear of his disguise, picked up his cloak and set it on the wardrobe. He looked back over at the bed, briefly smiling. He continued to examine his armor and put his equipment away. Finally finished, he unzipped his jumpsuit and opened the wardrobe, folding it neatly and placing it inside. There were very few articles of clothing inside. Some fatigues, several suits, and a jacket. Stood in an undershirt and boxers, he walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers, slipping off into sleep.

The next day started early for Michael. He carefully lifted himself out of his bunk, trying to avoid harming himself. The pressures of living with Osteogenesis Imperfecta had made this life difficult for him. He reached out for his cane and used it to support himself as he stood. He navigated his way to the door, yawning. It was seven in the morning. Passing through the door to the hall, he came face to face with four guards, who saluted all at once. Glass was surprised, and jumped slightly. He looked at the four men with their rifles and armor, then looked both directions in the hallway.

“You’re to be escorted to Zeta Section for the first phase.” One of the soldiers said. Glass, still groggy from his sleep, nodded slowly, and stepped into the hall. The soldiers surrounded him, and guided him through several checkpoints, past many turrets and patrols, to a set of doors deep within the Eidolon Wraith. Two more guards stood outside, along with two turrets which hung above their heads. Two of his escorts saluted once more, and began to patrol the halls. Michael was slightly frightened. He slowly approached the door and held up his card to the guards. They nodded, and the door opened. The two remaining escorts followed him inside, and stood guard at the door. Four more turrets were visible within the room, along with a rather peculiar sight. On both sides of the narrow, grated-floor chamber, were five identical liquid filled tanks, each with two letters and a number labeled clear across them. Glass stepped onto the grated floor and looked down. It connected to the sewage system. He approached the first tank on his left and looked through it, placing a hand on the glass as he supported himself on his cane. The lighting was much different than that of the hallways. The various tubes running into the tank pumped liquid through filters, yet were sitting still and silent. Michael examined the label.

“ZZ-0005…” He said to himself. Each tank was numbered and identical. At the far end of the room, some strange medical equipment, and a console were visible. The medical equipment had several equal sized needles, a cold storage unit, and various containers. Drones awaited in their charge bays. A smaller section of the machinery was labeled ‘Treatment’. More needles were present. Glass limped his way over to the console and examined the holo-display. The top read in bold ‘READY’, with individual and overall readouts of the tanks. A set of controls and a second datapad was present on the console. Michael looked around and sat himself in the console’s chair. He set his cane to the side and began to type. The machinery whirred to life, as the top read ‘WORKING. ICSI IN PROGRESS…” The needles and machinery began to work with the cold storage unit, as the collected samples were combined at the medical station. The combined samples were then moved to a monitoring sensor, where they remained for several hours. Glass examined the console for that time, reading through the datapad. He typed into the console, preparing the next station for its part in the process. As the hours went by, A guard entered the lab with a tray of food, and offered it to Michael. Glass nodded and thanked the man, taking the tray and grabbing a fork. He began to eat as he read, waiting patiently.

An hour after lunch, the console beeped. The monitoring station showed successful fertilization. Glass set the datapad aside and wheeled himself over to the console, typing in the next command line. The drones powered up and moved the samples as the machine whirred to life. Each sample was tampered with by a needle, adding some sort of liquid to the embryo. The console read this as ‘Growth Supplement 01. Infantile.’ The final stage of the first phase was underway, and Michael sat by to observe. Several minutes had passed, and the drones moved each embryo to their respected tanks. The pumps became active, adding nutrient liquids, hormones and other supplements to the tanks, as sensors began to scan for the small cells, to keep track of their positioning within the saline-like gel.

Project Thalatte had begun.

Project log: 001 Doctor Michael Glass

Saturday, April 23rd, 823 A.S. 16:30

Eidolon Wraith Zeta Section.

Keeper Sapphire Raven arrived in the medbay and submitted to anesthetic for the IVF sample extraction. She was accompanied by Curator Endurance, who revealed himself to be male. Under discretionary protocol, I was sworn in to oversee what is being dubbed Project “Thalatte” by the Keeper and Curator. This project is of the highest levels of security, due to it’s sensitive human rights nature, and the dangers that can follow.

The Curator was silent, as I had come to recognize from him. He remained at Keeper Raven’s side while she was rendered unconscious for the process. He didn’t move, or breathe. His helmet covered any signs of facial expression. The automated doctor equipment began the ultrasound-guided needle insertion at 17:15. The sample was extracted and immediately delivered to cold storage for preservation. There were no complications. The Keeper had awoken at 19:30, and like many under anesthetic, suffered from minor disorientation. The Curator collected her belongings and articles of clothing, and escorted the Keeper to her quarters.

Thirty-thousand was the sample number. A follow-up scan will be required to determine any lasting effects.

At 21:10, The Curator returned to the medbay alone, and as instructed, entered an isolation room for sample collection. At 21:50, I was handed the Curator’s sample. Without exchanging words, the Curator left once more. His sample was sent to cold storage for preservation.

Sunday, April 24th, 823 A.S 07:00

I was given access to an unmarked room within Zeta Section for the beginning setup stage of Thalatte. Under escort of four guards, I arrived to a room with ten identical liquid filled glass tubes, reaching eight feet in height. There were wires, sensors and hoses connecting to each in a similar fashion. The floor had been modified. A grated floor that likely lead to the sewage system for the flushing process. Five on either side of the room, with a set of consoles at the far wall, next to another automated doctor. A cold storage containment unit was connected to it. Two guards, and some automated turrets, sat outside. Two guards and four turrets were inside. They appeared unphased with the project. This works in our favor of secrecy.

At 08:00 hours, the ICSI process had begun. The automated doctor began injecting the eggs with the provided sample from the Curator into individual dishes. The dishes were moved by drones to monitoring and treatment stations outside their respective tanks. Each tank had a label for the individual Zeta-Zeta tank breeds:

ZZ-0001
ZZ-0002
ZZ-0003
ZZ-0004
ZZ-0005
ZZ-0006
ZZ-0007
ZZ-0008
ZZ-0009
ZZ-0010

The document identifies this phase as “The First Ten”. The testing ground for the theory of breeding and modifying a line of soldiers using collected samples from Keeper Raven, and Curator Endurance. Success would mean the project would have an increased need for production. Failure results in termination and re-evaluation. The samples return to cold storage until otherwise needed.

At 13:30, the embryos began to show signs of fertilization, and received their first growth treatment. Each was then placed inside the tank, to be fed nutrients, hormones, and growth stimulation to accelerate the process. Estimated time of gender identification is three weeks. The tank-breed will visually appear one years of age. This marks the point of programming, hormone and genetic modification to begin. The process of excess correlation is used to transmit knowledge into the tank-breed’s mind. Imprinting them with the training, skills, and basic survival knowledge to operate normally within the sector.

The ambition behind this project is astounding, but success will pave the way to the breeding of a perfect army.

A/)- The Inner Phalanx · (This post was last modified: 07-05-2016, 12:50 AM by A/)- The Inner Phalanx.)

The heavy metal doors slid open, flashing the room with a brief bit of light from the hallways of the Eidolon. The bubbles from the vats, the rumbling of the pumps and noise of the monitors had filled the quiet room. The Curator had walked in, slowly passing between the now occupied tubes, carefully examining each as he did so. He paused for a moment, looking at the current product of the project. The blue-tinted liquid-filled tubes housed a total of ten infants. “They’re eight months old, physically.” Echoed a voice from the far end of the room, opposite the entrance. Michael Glass had stood from the console, supporting himself with both hands on his cane.

The Curator looked over at the man, peering over the displays of his work station. “I was wondering when you or the Keeper would come down to check up on progress.” Michael stepped around the console and slowly approached the Curator. “In fact, I’m surprised it wasn’t both of you.” He said, stopping next to the hooded man. He gestured to the tanks. “As you can see, progress is on schedule. Will the Keeper be joining us?” He asked, looking past the Curator towards the door. The Curator let out a long sigh. “The Keeper is currently occupied.” He said. Glass paused for a moment at the metallic response, examining the Curator carefully. He shrugged slightly. “No matter. I had already begun the excess correlation sequence. Early life knowledge, and the second injection of growth stimulant.”

The two slowly walked between the vats, examining each as they passed by. Michael removed a datapad from his belt and showed it to the Curator. “Six female, four male.” He said, gesturing to the report on the small screen. The Curator briefly looked at it, then returned to examining the tanks. They stopped before one tank labeled ‘ZZ-0002’. Inside, a small female infant floated peacefully, as bubbles drifted upwards from the bottom of the tank. “They’re blissfully unaware of their surroundings.” Glass had said. The Curator placed a hand on the tank. It felt warm, even through his armor. The small child inside had several wires connected to its head, floating upwards to the top of the tank. The other nine had similar arrays connecting to them, as they floated silently in their individual tanks. “It’s mostly basic infantile knowledge, broadening their minds before next week’s program is started.” Glass nodded to the wires.

The Curator removed his hand from the tank, returning it underneath his cloak. “How much longer until they’re complete?” He asked. Glass looked at the datapad again, scrolling through it. “Two months, give or take. There hasn’t been any complications, yet some of the… Programming, seems to go above my clearance level.” Michael replied. He continued to examine the notes as the Curator moved from tank to tank. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Glass. Added precautions that are to remain within the Inner Phalanx.” The Curator said, examining a tank labeled “ZZ-0006”. Much like the previous one, a small infant drifted silently inside. The difference only lying in gender, as this one was male.

“This is the only production facility we have, you know.” Noted Glass. “We can’t ‘create’ more than ten at a time without a larger facility. Are there plans to expand?” He asked. The Curator looked back and nodded in response. He returned to examining the tanks. “There is still much to do, yet that is a priority I am currently pushing for within the Inner Phalanx.” Said the Curator. Glass worked his way slowly back to his console and sat down in the high-backed chair. He set his cane aside, leaning it against the console, placing the datapad next to it. He let out a quiet sigh, looking over the readouts on the console in front of him.

For nearly half an hour, the Curator stood in silence as he examined each of the tank-bred offspring. Beneath his helmet, a look of fascination had dawned on his face. Finally, he approached the console where Glass had seated himself. “How are the readouts for their neurons?” He asked. Glass rubbed his face briefly, and looked at the screen. “Nominal. Heart rate, blood pressure, muscle formation, all nominal. They’re all healthy.” He replied. The Curator stepped his way around the desk and examined the screen. “No signs of any unusual neural activity?” He asked, examining the readout. “Nothing off about their neural pathways? Not even a hint of anomalous activity?” He continued, watching the readouts for each individual tank.

Michael looked over them again. “No. Nothing. Are you expecting something?” He looked over at the hooded man, then back to the monitor. “No.” He replied, returning to the tanks. Glass watched as the hooded figure examined the tanks some more in silence. He went back to the console and began to type up his report. Michael would periodically look up at the Curator as he walked about the room, examining the ten tank-bred offspring. As time went on, the Curator had left for the bridge of the Eidolon Wraith, and Michael returned to working silently.

Project log: 002 Doctor Michael Glass

A/)- The Inner Phalanx · (This post was last modified: 06-15-2016, 02:41 AM by A/)- The Inner Phalanx.)

Within the earliest hours of the morning, the heavy steel doors to Project Thalatte slid open after a long silence. Like before, the tubes lined either side of the room, with the respective subjects still silently drifting inside. Yet, something was different. A single tube was empty. Zeta Zeta - Zero Zero Zero Two was gone. Michael Glass grasped the handle of his cane as he worked his way down the isle between the growth tanks, steadily approaching his seat at the console. His head turned from side to side slowly, as he examined each and every one of the remaining nine tank-breeds. He sighed quietly to himself, unwilling to disturb the silence beyond the low rumble of the machinery. He finally passed by the empty tube, which he took a small pause in his steps to examine it. He began to think back to the day it was drained.

On the twenty-seventh of May, Keeper Raven and Curator Endurance had arrived in the Zeta Section med-bay. The Curator, as always, was wearing his armor and robe, while the Keeper however, wore some casual loose clothing and a t-shirt. She appeared to have just woken up. Her face was slightly flushed and she was wiggling on the spot, apparently uncomfortable. She excused herself to the washroom and rushed off. After a brief moment, Raven returned, tripping over herself as she entered the room. "Weurgh!" She blurted out as she tumbled forward into the Curator's arms. "Woah. Hi." He said in response, holding her up. "Uh. Good day." She said, casually standing and brushing herself off. She cleared her throat and turned to face Michael. "A-alright." Michael looked at the two, attempting to analyze their posture. He gave up moments later, when he failed to read the Curator. "Shall we proceed?" Glass said. "Mhm." Responded Raven, who stepped back to the Curator's side and took his arm, swaying slightly as she walked.

"Come with me." Michael gestured for the two to follow as he walked out of the med-bay, making a right turn and heading down the hall. The two followed close behind. Eventually reaching the familiar, well guarded door, the trio stepped inside the room containing Project Thalatte. Most notable in comparison to the others, who were all children, an adult woman floated in the second last tank on the left. The three slowly approached the console, while both the Keeper and Curator stared in awe at the woman in the tank. "Oh. That's a person." Said Sapphire, who carefully leaned in and examined the woman. Remarkably, she looked almost alike to Raven, with some ever so noticeable resemblances to Joshua Hunt. "That's... Really... Creepy, in a way. Conceptual? Fine, but seeing it for real...?" Raven paused and took another look. "Hey, they don't have my nuzzly nose. Hah." She said, looking at the Curator. "Step back from the tank, please." Shouted Michael from behind the console, as he furiously typed away. Raven stumbled backwards, clearly lacking cohesion. The Curator walked behind her and supported Raven as she walked. The two stood together and observed carefully.

Within minutes, the woman inside the tank twitched slightly. The liquid bubbled up around her and slowly began to drain out the bottom, lowering her to the grate floor of the tank. The glass tube, once entirely empty, lifted from the pedestal it was connected to, and the young woman collapsed outwards onto the floor, naked. Raven seemed to have a mixed attitude as she examined what would be her biological daughter, which crawled briefly on the floor, soaked in the blue tinted liquid she was created in. The young woman let out a few coughs and opened her eyes, bringing them to look at the Curator and Raven. She began to stand up, steadying herself as she swayed slightly. She looked between the two again with a pair of green eyes. Standing ever so slightly taller than Raven, she spoke with a soft voice. "Wh... Where am I?" As she spoke, Raven took a look at her nude form and averted her eyes towards Glass, who had begun approaching with a towel. "Cover yourself." He said, handing the towel to the tank subject, known as Oh-Two. The woman nodded and wrapped the towel around herself, tying it off. She turned to look at the two before her.

"Wow, uh... They really do resemble me, huh..." Said Raven, examining the woman before her. Oh-Two tilted her head and stared at her with a set of eyes that resembled Hunt's. "You are my mother. Why wouldn't I?" She said softly. Raven looked at her with a blank expression. "Okay. That's creepy." She said, shuddering slightly. "I mean, this is amazing, but also terrifying at the same time." She said with a look of awe as she examined the finished product. "While Oh-Two is coherent and comprehensive, she lacks the finished programming that her siblings will have." Said Michael. Oh-Two followed the conversation closely, swapping her neutral gaze between the three. "Programming?" Queried Raven, turning her head to Glass. "She is no more than a civilian lacking expanded knowledge and social skills." He responded, carefully examining Oh-Two as he did so. "You act like if people aren't capable of learning." Retorted Raven who raised a brow. "On the contrary. While she can learn, her growth involved mental programming, which was halted when her growth was accelerated per your request." Glass responded, turning to face Raven and the Curator. "Elaborate on 'programming'." Asked Raven, carefully looking at Glass, then the Curator.

"Basic knowledge, basic socialization skills and courtesy, advanced knowledge, history, loyalty, training for combat, flight, infiltration, blending, engineering, mechanical skills, medical skills. All the necessary skills required for the project and its product. She, however, lacks many of those traits. The extent of which is yet to be known." Glass said, returning to his examination of the woman. Raven blinked, staring at Glass and the woman, unsure of what to say. The woman turned her head to Michael. "Why was my programming halted?" Asked Oh-Two. Glass looked at Raven, then looked back at Oh-Two. "You have a different purpose than that of your siblings." He said, turning to look at Raven. "There was a - uhm - a job that required... a special person." Said Raven, ever so slightly shaking. Oh-two turned to face her. "What job?" She asked with her soft voice. Raven began to stutter profusely, nervous and confused at the situation. "Basically, I needed to be in two places at once, and you... were the most similar." She responded, trailing off and averting her eyes. "A body double for you?" Asked Oh-Two, tilting her head slightly and closely examining Sapphire. "I see why I was selected. Is there a training simulator for this?" She asked. Raven began to stutter, growing more and more uncomfortable as the woman examined her. "I... uh... I... need to.. BE-RIGHT-BACK-I-LEFT-THE-OVEN-ON." She blurted out, shaking in her words. She hurried out of the room and down the hall. The Curator turned and followed her, leaving Michael and Oh-Two alone.

"Come with me. I have some clothing for you." Glass said, gesturing for Oh-Two to follow him. She nods briefly. The two work their way to the console and beyond it to a medical examination area. Along the tables, various jump suits and undergarments lined the top. Oh-Two removed her towel and finished drying herself off. She walked over and sorted through the clothing, finding herself a bra and some underwear. She quickly put them on and turned to Michael. "Stand on that mark. I'm going to conduct a bio-scan." He pointed to a small square on the floor with a machine scanner hanging over it. Oh-Two nodded and walked over. "Arms and legs out." He said. Oh-Two did so, essentially forming a 'T' with her body. The scanner spooled up and began to slowly circle the near-naked woman. "Should just be a while. Any issues or problems that you've noticed?" He asked from behind another console. "Negative. My body seems to be adapting to consciousness well." She responded, keeping her head forward as the machine circled her. Glass watched the readout. "Any thoughts, things or otherwise that are occurring which may seem unfamiliar beyond this scan?" He asked. "Negative, as this whole scenario is currently difficult to perceive. Is it normal to be confused after such an unusual response?" Oh-Two responded, slightly turning her head to look at Michael, who was chuckling slightly. "That's socializing. It often will be confusing for people." He said, returning to the monitor.

Meanwhile, within the hallway of the residential section, Sapphire Raven was stood outside her dorm, breathing heavily. The Curator, or Joshua Hunt as he's known to few, approached her. "Are you okay, dearest?" He asked. "NO. I CAN'T MENTALLY PERCEIVE THEM. THEY'RE AN ANOMALY TO ME." She shouted, exhaling heavily and inhaling, trying to control her breathing. Eventually, she sighed. "This is hard. This is so hard. They're like lifeforms, but they're not!" She said. She began to pace back and forth in front of the door, panicking and confused. "But they /are/ lifeforms, just created in different conditions. They're not lacking free will." Responded Hunt. "Nononon, that makes the AI and the Nomads as natural bei- NO." She shakes her head and speeds up her pacing. Hunt stepped in front of her path and stopped her. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug. In a calm, soothing voice, he spoke. "Calm yourself. Everything is alright." Raven sighed. "How do I mentally perceive them? I can't just go, 'Ohohohoh, hello my minion!' nor can I go ' Hello Daughter!'" She said, letting out another sigh. "They have numbers. You can refer to them as such." Retorted Hunt. "But I can't - it... it makes it sound so robotic. And... urgh... Let's... " She pauses to breathe. "Let's try again." She said, resting her forehead on Hunt's shoulder.

"You could always give them a nickname." Hunt said, leaning back and looking at her. Raven looked at his faceless mask. "I don't know. This scares me. I don't even feel an aura about this." She sighed in defeat. "Let's go." The two hugged once more and turned to walk back to the project room. As they entered, the scan was still in progress. "Apologies for that." Raven said as she looked to the back of the room at the two. "Fires are an unwanted cause. " She joked, stepping forward towards the console with Hunt close by. "Just conducting the bio-scan for any issues or defects. One moment." Noted Glass, who kept his eyes locked on the monitor. "That's fine." Responded Raven. The two continued their approach, reaching the pedestal where the controls and medical area were. Raven began to grind her teeth nervously. The machinery came to a stop. "Right. Oh-Two, you are healthy." Noted Glass. Oh-Two stepped out of the marked zone and approached the console. "Affirmative. Thank you, Doctor." She said. Oh-Two turned and approached Raven and Hunt. "Keeper Revenant. Curator Endurance. Hello. It is a pleasure to meet you both." She said, extending her hand out to shake. "Just call me Raven." Responded Raven, who shook her hand briefly. Oh-two nods and returns her hand to her side. "Very well, Raven."

"I am Zeta Zeta Zero Zero Zero Two - Oh Two for short." Said the tank-bred. "I think a nickname is appropriate. Do you have any... Preferences?" Asked Raven, cautiously examining Oh-Two. "No. Not really. Perhaps a defining character trait?" Responded Oh-Two. "I'll temporarily call you Aria until we find something more fitting." Stated Raven. Aria smiled and nodded. "Okay." She smiles to herself. "Aria... I like it." She happily walks over to the table and picks up a Jumpsuit, quickly slipping into it and zipping up the front. "Take the time to adapt to your surroundings." Said Raven, looking between Aria and Hunt. "Yes, Keeper." Responded Aria, nodding slightly. "When we're alone, you can refer to our names." Said Raven, crossing her arms. "Yes, Raven. Do you require anything from me?" Asked Aria. "No. Adapt to your surroundings. You may want to change your hairstyle, heh." Noted Raven, smiling slightly and leaning on the desk behind her. "I intend to prepare her for a haircut and cleanup." Said Michael, walking over to Aria. "As long as she doesn't look visibly similar to me - even though I change hairstyles every now and t-then." Responded Raven, yawning towards the end. "You appear to be exhausted. Perhaps you should get some rest, Keeper." Mentioned Glass, looking at her. "Y-y..." Raven had begun to doze off, when Hunt approached and picked her up. He nodded to Michael and Aria, and carried Raven out of the project room. Michael sighed, and walked Aria to a spare room.

Returning to the present, Michael Glass sat at the console, as the nearly finished project continued before him. The nine remaining tanks appeared to contain men and women of the same age - Seventeen. The final stage of programming was started, and Michael took the time to relax in his chair. "Just ten more days..." He thought to himself, slowly nodding off and slipping out of consciousness.

The first nine were nearly complete.

Project log: 003 Doctor Michael Glass

A/)- The Inner Phalanx · (This post was last modified: 06-20-2016, 04:30 AM by A/)- The Inner Phalanx.)

At the beginning of the day on June Seventeenth, Michael Glass stood from the console within the growth chamber of the Project. Looking around him, various pieces of equipment and armor lay waiting to be claimed. He grabbed his cane and paced through the tanks. He contemplated for a time about his plan of action. Finally, stopping outside Oh-Six, he made up his mind. He stared at the man suspended in liquid within the glass tank, carefully stroking his chin. He grunted slightly, and turned to walk back to the console. He stepped around and set his cane aside, sitting down in the usual high-backed chair. He spun to face the controls and began to type away. The machinery whizzed to life, and began to work. Michael stood, grabbed a towel and walked back to Oh-Six, as the tank began to drain. The man inside twitched to life. Like his sister before him, the tube opened and he collapsed to the floor, coughing up the familiar blue-tinted liquid. He gasped for air and stood. Michael held the towel out. "Cover yourself." He said. Oh-Six nodded and concealed himself, drying off slightly.

"Chief Medical Officer Glass." Said Oh-Six. "Why was I awoken?" He asked. Michael remained silent and gestured for the man to follow him. The two walked back to the console. Michael pointed to the pile of undergarments. The tank-bred man finished drying himself off, and dug for a pair of boxers. Oh-Six quickly tugged on a pair and walked over to Michael. "Sir?" He asked. Michael held up a finger, examining the console. "I've decided to run a test. How do you feel?" Asked Glass. Oh-Six shrugged. "Nominal, sir. No signs of damage or fault." Replied the tank-bred man. Glass nodded and pointed to the pile of equipment. "Suit up." He stated. Oh-Six nodded. "Yes, sir." Oh-Six began to dig through the crates and piles of armor. He found an under-suit and pulled it on, dawning a set of beige armor. "Ready." Said Oh-Six, as he placed on his helmet. "Welcome to the beginning of the future, Six. Your name is now Marshal. Let's see what you can do, hm?" Said Michael. He gestured for Marshal to follow him. The two hurried from the project chamber and made a left turn down the hall, quickly passing through the security checkpoints.

"Where are we going?" Asked Marshal, slowing his pace to keep by Glass. "Training room. You're going to run a simulation without an exam." Responded Glass, marching down the hall with his cast and cane. Eventually, they entered an open spaced room with large projectors lining the walls. "Level one, basic test." Stated Glass, stepping into an observation booth. Marshal stepped forward towards a table on the left side of the room, where a Type-40 Particle Accelerator Rifle was waiting. He picked it up and loaded the holographic rounds, strapping additional mags to his belt. He briefly aimed down the Three-by-four sight and fiddled with the mechanism. He stepped forward to the center of the room as the entrance sealed off. The projectors began to light up, generating solid light objects in the room. The scenery slowly began to resemble a desert, with arid plains stretching for miles. Where Marshal stood was a downed Manta, with parts lined around in a sort of makeshift cover zone spanning three-hundred and sixty degrees around the crash site. The area began to fill with cover, as a sandstorm was blowing in. Marshal hunkered down near the top fin of the Manta and aimed his rifle over.

As the simulation started, the sandstorm obstructed all natural view. Marshal kept his eye aimed on his sight. "Watch the motion tracker. Steady on friendly contacts, fire on unknown." He thought to himself. The simulator room spoke. <:: SIMULATION - NAURU - SURVIVAL. ::> As it finished, Marshal's radar lit up two objects moving around him. One to his left, and one to his rear. In a matter of seconds, Marshal pivoted on the spot and brought his rifle up. He fired two short bursts at the left-most contact. A small holographic flash lit up, signaling an enemy being dispatched. Marshal rolled to the rear cover, by the downed Manta's engine remains, as hostile rounds flew over his head. "Can't go over... Might as well go under." Marshal dropped down to his stomach and peeked the barrel of his rifle through the cracks in the engine manifold. He fired two additional bursts. <:: ROUND ONE - COMPLETE. COMMENCING - ROUND TWO. ::> As it finished speaking, a single rifle shot was heard in the distance. Marshal ducked down as it landed near the engine manifold, close to the barrel of his rifle. He rolled to the wing, keeping himself prone. A second rifle shot. The round flew over the wing. Marshal stopped briefly to think. A third rifle shot, hitting the wing, just near his head. "Thermal imaging."

Marshal rolled to the canopy on his left, where the cover was solid enough that the sniper couldn't hit him, but that didn't negate the fact that he was being tracked. Marshal drew a grenade from his belt and flung it over the canopy in the direction the rifle was firing from. As the beeping explosive flew through the air, Marshal counted down. A single rifle shot was heard, followed by an explosion. Marshal quickly peeked out from behind the canopy and fired his rifle, fully automatic, in the direction of the tracer. A brief flash was seen, signifying the death of an enemy. As time went on, and the simulation progressed, Marshal continued to use inventive means of surviving the onslaught of hostiles. Nearly three hours in, the simulator spoke. <:: ROUND SIXTY-TWO - COMPLETE. SIMULATION HALTED. ::> The scenery began to fade back into the barren room. Marshal stood as the makeshift cover faded from existence around him. The entrance unsealed, and Michael walked out of the observation booth. "Excellent work. You've certainly exceeded combat expectations in a rather... Innovative way." Said Glass. Marshal nodded. "Is that all, sir?" He asked. "For now, yes. Take the time to adapt to your surroundings, and remember your name. Your real identity is to be kept a secret. We will continue for the next few days." Responded Glass, who turned to leave. The two went their separate ways, as Marshal moved to join the others in the fleet.

Two days later, Michael and Marshal were waiting in the Thalatte chamber. The two were going over some notes at the console together, when the large metal doors slid open. The Curator, in full gear as usual, walked into the chamber. Marshal stood at attention at first glance. "Sir. Oh-Six Marshal. It's an honor, Curator." He said, saluting to the Curator. "At ease, Marshal." Said Glass. Marshal remained at attention, but lowered his hand. Glass furrowed his brow. "You heard him, Six." Stated the Curator. Marshal sighed and stood at ease, carefully watching as his father approached. "He's early." Said the Curator, staring at the soldier before him. He turned his head to Glass. "I decided now is as good of a time as any." Replied Michael. He looked between the two as they examined one another. "Details." Stated the Curator. "Oh-Six, or Marshal as I've called him, shows a natural talent for leadership, innovative and improvised warfare. He's excelled in the level one Nauru survival sim, and has been improving ever since. I believe we have our squad leader." Responded Glass, gesturing towards Marshal.

"I see. He certainly seems to respect the chain of command. Perhaps a little too much." The Curator approaches Marshal, carefully examining him from head to toe. "Would you ever question an order?" He asked. "No, sir." Responded Marshal, keeping his eyes forward. "Loyalty is good, but blind loyalty will get you killed. You need to trust yourself and know when to do what's right for your siblings in the field. Think you can do that?" Asked the Curator, pacing around him. "Yes, sir. Sir, I believe that any order should be followed, right or wrong, so long as it serves Auxesia. However, whatever answer I give will also be wrong, but mistakes are what allow us to learn and better ourselves, and while orders might not always cater to the scenario, situational awareness is key to the survival and management of your comrades, sir." Stated Marshal, still retaining his posture. The Curator sharked around him for a few moments, remaining silent. "Not intimidated. Good. Smart, too. You'll do fine." The Curator pats Marshal on the shoulder. "What of the others?" He asked. Michael cracked a small grin. "You'll see soon enough." He began to type away, starting the process for the machinery once again.

One by one, the tubes began to drain. Each individual, both man and woman, dropped out and coughed up some liquid. They stood and looked around. "Attention!" Shouted the Curator from the console. The remaining eight lined up, nude from head to toe, un-phased. They kept their eyes front as the Curator walked between them. "Congratulations. You've all been given life this day. While earlier than decided upon, you are all complete. As you know, I am Curator Endurance, and you are on board the Eidolon Wraith. As you also know, I am your biological father. However, do not let that thought taint your views and ideals. You have a duty to uphold and work to do. You were created, each and every one of you, to be perfect. To fit the roles that others specialize in only one of. You specialize in all, but remember that you are a team. You are all the soldiers that we need. Each of you," He stopped in front of a rather small woman. "Are unique. You are a squadron. Brothers and sisters in arms." He continued on his path, turning back to the console. "Your squad leader, Oh-Six, or Marshal as he is known, is awaiting you at the front. He is your brother. Older by two days. Your eldest is currently injured, and your mother is away. You are not invincible, so do not act like it. Report to the console for clothing and equipment." Finished the Curator. The eight saluted and walked to the console, grabbing towels to dry themselves.

Like the others, they dug through the pile of undergarments for appropriate sizes to conceal their nudity - The females finding bras and undergarments, while the males found boxer shorts. They lined up, front to back, and stood at ease. Michael Glass grabbed his cane and stood, slowly walking to the line. He began to inspect them, starting with Oh-One, a man. He carefully examined him, feeling for any issues. He moved on to the next subject - A woman, Oh-Three. Much like before, he examined and felt for differences. He did the same with the remaining six subjects. Finally finished, he turned back to the console. "Before you is the most advanced and unique equipment available. Each suit is designed specifically for you, with potential for modifications. Yes, you were measured. I've watched you all grow from an embryo to what you are now." Said Michael, gesturing to the equipment. "Suit up." He said. The tank-breeds lined up, one by one locating their equipment and slipping into it. Finished, they gathered around Marshal. "For the next few hours, we'll discover what you're capable of." Said Michael.

As he said, the training rooms were occupied as the Thalatte kids began to find their skills and work as a team, surpassing the hardest difficulty of the first simulator. One by one, they developed an identity, and began to modify their armor and decide their roles within their newly formed squadron - Davara. As the day progressed, and the nine learnt to trust eachother. Nearing the end of the day, Davara squad was dispatched on their first mission to recover two Auxesians from Cambridge. Before, however, the Curator approached Michael in private. "We're halting this for now. We've other things to focus on. Namely, resource control. I know you won't like it, but there will come a time where we can continue. You've done magnificent work, Glass." He said. The Curator turned to walk out, returning to the medical bay.

Project log: 004 Doctor Michael Glass

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