A Slave to His Work

Recorder on.

The room shown is not the Screen Room; indeed, it seems to be some kind of laboratory. There are several dissected bodies on tables, some rather the worse for wear, showing signs of vacuum freezing and damage from ship-mounted weapons. All have had skin and flesh peeled back to reveal bone and, in some cases, circuitry - at least two seem to be capsuleers, while one has such extensive modification that it is likely to be a Sansha corpse.

Strange days.

With little in the way of real combat recently, I've been turning to academic pursuits. The obvious topic being the main pirate presence in the area...

Sansha's work is a masterpiece. Even in these crude knockoffs...

He gestures to the Sansha corpse.

...there is undoubtedly some incredibly advanced ideas in here.

He was a complete madman, of course. There was good reason for the Empires to take him down, and the remnants of Sansha's Nation are rather sad cases... little more than animals to be put down in most cases...

And yet.

He looks at the capsuleer corpses impassively.

Much of New Eden remains suspicious of implants, because of Sansha's work. My own heritage among the Cyber Knights is not exactly hidden, but most Knights prefer not to make a big thing of it... even stop making significant use of implants upon becoming capsuleers. I wasn't one, but... where is the line between Sansha and the original Cyber Knights?

I've been doing some research on the effect of implants on bodies. Not easy to find subjects, of course. A lot of the bodies available are badly damaged by the loss of their ships and pods... but my collection has a reasonable number of suitably intact specimens.

This is, of course, merely theoretical research. But the effect of many common implants on brain tissue are... intriguing. I intend to pass a few questions onto other contacts with specialisations in nanotech... my own basis in cybernetics and biology only get me so far in the ideas.

But listen to me.

He laughs.

I'm probably sounding like Sansha in his early years. I need something to distract me, that's all.

He presses a few switches, and the bodies fold away into wall compartments. Then he leans against the side thoughtfully.

Repentence has been staying out of trouble thus far. Favourable reports everywhere, not heard a bad word about her yet. Perhaps my panic was premature.

No, that's not what I need distracting from. It's the nightmares.

I always get them after dying. Usually they don't last long, but... I've died three times in the course of a couple of weeks. They're still coming, hard and fast.

Sometimes I wonder if they mean anything, but the last thing I need is a psychologist. No, so long as it doesn't inhibit my flying...

He begins to pore over a computer screen showing various scans, then pauses.

Of course, I've been rather... reclusive recently. The nightmares again, I suppose. They don't leave me feeling that social.

He broods, then begins using the computer. After a few minutes, he remembers the camera, and reaches out.

Recorder off.