Join Date: Mar 2001
Katani Chass awoke from his surgery feeling more or less intact. There was a new pressure in the side of his head, and combined with having his head shaved, he felt like a new individual. Luckily, the anesthetic he'd been given was completely effective, he had a feeling he'd be feeling quite a bit of pain on the right side of his skull otherwise. New scar tissue was already flaring up at the edges of the implant, to mix itself with older scar tissue from the blender incident when he was seven. Just thinking about that hurt.
Katani was still sitting there, reminiscing about childhood experiences, both good and bad, when the leading scientist of the research facility entered, looking a bit worse for the wear, and looked over at Chass, who looked altogether peacful and happy with his new implant. Little did either of them know the sinister series of events that had begun when the implant had been, well, implanted. Ryoas Yeeyrnc, which happened to be the name of the scientist, spoke.
Ryoas: Did you sleep well?
Katani: All things considered, yes.
Ryoas: That's good, you're going to need it. It's time to begin your training.
They walked slowly out of the room where Katani had rested, chatting amicably, the scientist telling Katani how exciting of a time this was, that he'd been asleep about three days, and how surprised he was that the Mets had beaten the Yankees in interleague play. Katani merely listened, nodding when appropriate, but more or less tuning out the scientist. Not surprising, the man sounded like he could have put Ben Stein to sleep. Finally, they reached their destination; a computer interface uplink. The scientist explained that Katani needed to learn a few things, such as how to run the Conqueror and how to defend himself should be taken away from the Conqueror as well as how to properly maintain his implant. As is predictable, Katani is then hooked up, thorough an extension of his implant, into a computer jack. Immediately the outer world seemed to fade just a little. He was recieving information from the computers as fast as his mind could comprehend it. And that was pretty fast.
The computer prompted Katani, asking him whether or not he was ready for the beginning of informatinal download yet. Katani barely even thought to the affirmative before the computer was prceeding The first lesson, it told him, would be self-defense. Part A: Ju-Jitsu.
Katani: Ju-Jitsu... I'm going to learn Ju-Jitsu?
The tech just smiled at this obviously boorishly used reference to pop culture and film noir.
After several hours of the "training," Katani had learned everything the computer was going to teach him. It was time he actually went out and field tested that which he had come for.
All this time, the mind-influencer had stayed silent. There was little information in the previous linkings of Katani's mind that Neo-Imperialists didn't know already. Katani still had no clue as to it's existence.
Katani was a little dissappointed when he returned to the real world. Sure, he had never left it, but at the same time, he would never really return. The data flow he had experienced while a part of the interface had been exhilirating, not to mention staggering. In just a few short hours he'd learned more than he had in any other period of under a year of his life. Such are the wonders, and the curses, of the interface. The trek to the Conqueror was much longer than the one from his room to the uplink, and Katani again found himself having to tune out the annoying scientist. This time, at least, he had all this newly found information to marvel over, and he could use that to distract himself. In fact, he was so distracted, that he didn't even notice anything until he found himself being strapped into the command seat of the Conqueror. Once again, his data link extended itself to the well placed uplink, and once again he got that same thrill as when he first linked up. But this, this was far more enjoyable than even the training had been. In fact, this was the best thing he'd ever experienced. This time, instead of just information, there were sights, sounds, and feels coming into his head. He didn't just pilot this ship, he was this ship. Immediately he checked the weapons loadout, for now his mind-control device conviniently kicked in. He found that there was a full load of the nuclear slugs, as well as the high explosives, the missiles were primed and ready to launch, and the turbolasers fully charged and working great. One minor detail that was unexpected, but not unwelcome, was the load of simple metal slugs packed in the ammo clip of the railgun. He assumed these would be used for target practice. The subspace engines were completely ready, and though he was disappointed that there was no hyperdrive, this would not be a serious problem. The scientists had devised a carrier for him, that would be fully controllable through his interface, requiring no interaction with anyone outside himself. He relished this idea. He would be independent. He would work alone. He would become to Cracken like Vader was to Palpatine. Then, he would become more...
"Space is big... really big. I mean, you wouldn't believe how vastly, hugely, incomprehensibly big it is. You may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist, but that's just peanuts to space." The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy