21 - Re-Awakening - Part 2

In an isolated system of the Intaki Syndicate, in an unregistered cloning bay,  the infomorph calling herself Sandrielle Jaunes emerged from it's liquid cradle in a new body. It was an experience she had gone through many times before. However, the fact that her most recent “death” had ripped her consciousness from inside an advanced strategic cruiser added some complications. Because of the profound link those ships offered to their capsuleer pilots, such an abrupt disconnect never occurred without mental trauma. The ship would take some of its pilot's mind with it into oblivion, leaving the capsuleer disoriented and deprived of more recently imprinted reflexes. Not quite neural damage but still the effective equivalent of a minor stroke leaving the victim with a loss of memory and certain faculties.

Still, Sandrielle knew what that felt like, and it did not account for the severity of the disorientation she felt as she stumbled out of the opening technological chrysalis that had nurtured her clone.

Even in her weakest moments, the Gallente woman had an enviable amount of control over her body, but now her senses were clouded as if she had been immersed in alcohol rather than the viscous liquid of the clone pod. She seemed to be unable to find her sense of balance. Her muscles ached and tortured her with every little contraction. Sandrielle could hardly see, and when her legs buckled under her from pain and weakness alike, she hardly managed to steady herself on a nearby instrument panel to keep herself from falling.

With a pained sigh she fell, more than settled, into a chair fortuitously standing there.

What is happening to me. What's the matter with this clone. Did something go wrong in the transfer of consciousness? Sandrielle wondered while she struggled to think coherently.

Complications in the instant transfer of consciousness from a capsule to a clone were not unheard of. Especially when it came to independently operated facilities like the one Sandrielle had been using to keep her clones off the record. However, in this day and age the statistical odds were extremely low of something going wrong on the scale that Sandrielle experienced.

Sandrielle heard an amused chuckle.

There was someone with her. A man by the sound of it.

She moved her head into the general direction of the sound, but all she could see was a ghostly blur. A smudge only vaguely shaped like a human being.

'Madame Jaunes. Welcome back. Looks like we get an opportunity to balance the books today.' the voice smugly piped at her.

He spoke Gallente, but Sandrielle recognized a distinct Caldari accent. Her brain flickered through barely recovered memories. Sandrielle tried to regain her sense of self-control while slumped in a chair. Naked, weak and exposed like on the day she lost her virginity.

'Tradesman Aluvetti.' she sighed after her mind finally managed to match the voice with a person. 'What a surprise to see you on the site of my rebirth.' Sandrielle's muscles relaxed as her mind crept sluggishly along the paths of her nervous system to re-learn how her body was working. 'I am unaware of any imbalance.” a smile appeared on her face, both tired and menacing at the same time.

'Well.' The Caldari trader began. 'I remember a day when you put me through some rather unsettling experience.' Sandrielle could vaguely make out his shrug that accompanied the next statement. 'I just thought I should be returning the favour.' He paused and the human-shaped smudge moved closer and obscured the overhead lights. Sandrielle could smell him. A spicy fragrance common to male personal hygiene products.

'How does it feel to be completely powerless?' Aluvetti asked whimsically.

'What …?' What have you done to me? How did you find my clone? Sandrielle tried to formulate the questions but her unfocused mind failed momentarily to express them in words.

'What happened to you?' Aluvetti finished the question for her. 'I am afraid I have tampered a bit with your clone.' Sandrielle vaguely saw him straightening as he stood. 'I am not an expert on this, so I have no idea how extreme the effects are, but judging from your state you are pretty much messed up.' Another chuckle followed.

'I guess even in your current state you will remember that there are people who will pay an impressive amount of money for getting their hands on you. I can actually choose between offers. Looks like you made lots of friends during your career.'

Sandrielle's hands clutched the armrest of the chair she was in. 'If I can just manage a few seconds of full control I can kill him. Naked and unarmed as I am, I can still do it.' she thought while trying to muster the necessary strength and control.

'Oooh' Aluvetti voiced with mock pity while pushed Sandrielle back into the chair when she tried to rise.'Are you trying to jump out of the chair and use your famous martial prowess to kill me despite the odds?' Sandrielle could see the smudge moving. Him shaking his head she guessed. 'I am afraid you wont manage.' the Caldari said 'I am not very sophisticated at this, but I am good enough to make sure your body and mind are practically infirm.'

Sandrielle had to concede that he was correct.

***

Deep in the massive Tomb Ship, Keram sat huddled in a blanket before a fluid router console. He cursed himself and his former pirate colleagues for forgetting to put any heating on in the cloning bay. The place was freezing and Keram was as naked as on the day of his birth.

Still, he had not bothered to get dressed. As soon as he had regained some control over his body he had stumbled to the nearby console and wrapped a blanket around himself. It had been left there by an unknown individual. Someone who had recently been sent back involuntarily to the spaceborne cloning facility. Another one of the outlaws and criminals who shared a stake in this ship hidden in the depths of an unsettled system. Far away even from the hunting grounds of the unaffiliated capsuleer alliances fighting over unclaimed space here in the Outer Passage.

The purpose of his hasted attempt to re-establish communication with the outside world was something that had been up until recently almost inconceivable to the outcast Amarrian: A deep-seated care about another human being. A Minmatar no less. All that Keram wanted to know was, whether Alira was all right.

Eventually he managed to establish a quantum-entangled communications bridge to the channels of Awakened Industries. At first he got some random comms-officer on the line who was so inexperienced with protocol that Keram had to assume he was the replacement of someone who was assigned to fill in for the person who was actually supposed to do the job. After several minutes of back-and-forth to clear up the confusion, Keram finally got through to Cedrien. He was relieved to learn that the Gallente commander was still inside the wormhole system. They had prevailed, but at what cost?

'Tell me she's all right.' Keram rasped, still hung over from his recent rebirth. A stupid thing to say, he realized a moment later. Cedrien would not tell him otherwise if Alira wasn't.

'Well, she is still in a very …' The holographic image of the bearded Gallente man inclined it's head as Cedrien groped for words. '… difficult state.' he finished.

'Define difficult.' Keram growled back. His personal feelings left no space for evasive nuances. Part of his mind was amazed at that reaction. It was not so long ago that he had lead a life where the loss of comrades – he had known no real friends – had been something he accepted with a shrug. How he had changed. Keram almost drifted off into a state of reverie, reflecting on that, but Cedrien's voice pinned his attention to the here and now.

'She is still linked with the collective consciousness of the Sleepers.' the Gallente man said. 'At least that is what Torstan tells me. Sylera is too.' The projection of Cedrien furrowed it's holographically rendered brow. 'Right now we are not sure whether we can risk to disconnect them or what would happen if we did.'

Keram pressed his lips together. 'So you are letting this Matari sociopath call the shots now?'

The image of Cedrien smirked. 'I guess he would call you a sociopath too.' The voice of Cedrien turned more earnest. 'We're grasping at straws here Keram. Nobody has ever done anything like this before. Also, maybe your transfer resulted in loss of memory, but we are basically shot to pieces out here. Almost of the civilian personnel has been evacuated. Most of the military personnel is dead. We are doing what we can here and we have very little to go on. I understand you got attached to Alira and …'

Keram cut the transmission and gritted his teeth in frustration. Then he called up the hangar registry of the Stormchasers, his old pirate crew. He needed a ship. A fast ship. Something that could slip through blockades and into wormhole space as quickly and safely as possible.

He was looking for someone still alive among his pirate buddies who owed him a favour.