Eris on Cardamine

[Omicron]

Crowd's eyes were full of hatred, bad wishing fury and vengeance. Dozen people in military uniforms - be it improvised or still intact original pieces of their original post stared ominously at him, being kept at bay only by discipline and detail of soldiers. Heralding voice was surprisingly calm, silencing entire room in moment's notice. Right in front of John on the wall behind the judge a symbol, an eye, familiar and well known to him - was now an ominous presage. Horus Eye, symbol that The Order has chosen as its own, fading slowly to background's grey as if left unattended for years. Before he could take some of the details of the crowd surrounding him, a guard publicly humiliates John with stock of his rifle, putting him back to ground level.

Guards force him back to face the court, being so distant and out of the reach. Collective of five individuals reside behind the long desk. At the center, the highest seat, is the person responsible for gathering. A military type with graying hair, a face all too well known to once the famous doctor in entire Sirius sector. Still recovering the sight Doc had problems with identifying any of the other present people, including awfully familiar judge. Another officer at his far right clears his throat, interrupting silence that stretched few unsettling moments to John.

"Prisoner of war known as John Holiday, captured and finally brought to face a trial under wrathful light of justice."

With each following second, gravity of situation started to crush him, atmosphere thickens and building up as witnesses suppress their emotions. Perhaps a promise of quick and impending resolution rather than weeks of uncertainty spent in isolation will grant him peace of mind no matter the outcome.

"Judges in this trial are as follows...

...Commander Alain Girard

Butcher of Orleanais. Morally disputed human that has taken difficult choices when his commanding officers failed to take action. His surviving contingent saught out Order and offered everything they've got.

...Elder Isabella Blanxart

Last Corsair Elder alive to comprehend importance of things to come. Remainder of her familia got through to join remnants of The Order while Crete economically collapsed as Great Starvation decimated population and Empire itself was overrun by Nomads.

...Director Nick O'Brien

Traitor to Liberty republic, formerly leader of Liberty Security Force. In event of realization as Liberty's might was out-dwarfed by Nomad's masterminded intrigue, he handed over all secrets of Liberty to Order command as houses were about to enter apocalyptic stages of Sirian's last war.

...Commander Ashley Golanska

Daughter of Order admiral, responsible for capturing of Holiday himself during a raid. While youngest of the judges, she was given a chance to take part given her achievements in making this trial possible.

...Admiral Michal Golanski"

The last and highest judge was identified to John. He was right about knowing him as last judge's name was mentioned. A lot of years have passed since they spoke face to face, both getting old now. Admiral with graying hair is well still in capacity to take gun himself and lead the charge. This particular revelation sent shiver through his spine as leader of The Order for decades now, arrived in person to finish this revengeful show. Demand for blood rising among the witnesses. Golanski stepped out of his post, walking towards the prisoner. As admiral left the crowd, he halted and turn around to address everyone like a showman. It was not meant to be a fair trial for sins they brought him to this very room. A parlay to appease the public through a witch hunt. All of them around seem got used by now to the limited space available on spaceship as if they were doing that for years if not more. It does not look like anyone around is on prisoner's side.

"In front of you, is a living being. Shell of what used to call a human... but how we were wrong about that!" - Michal began his speech with marginalizing John as an unnatural animal, a being that does not belong to this world. "This... 'thing', preferred its current alien overlords over the survival of humans as a species. It allowed to hunt us in our own homes in exchange for it's meaningless life as a slave." Litany of litanies has begun.

"The list of crimes is long and colorful. Siding with the Nomads, 'it' caused the ongoing downfall of the houses as their military forces are now at their final quest for complete mutual destruction, misguided by infiltrators posing as their leaders. What you are looking at, was the most influential and skillful surgeon of our time." Crowd has agreed with brief outburst, seeing John Holiday as a lesser being and out of all: not a human.

"Holiday was among the responsible to shorten and eventually prompt the Zoners to cease trade within Corsair space, inflicting crippling and long lasting effects of food shortages. A desperate civil war has erupted causing the collapse of their government. In those darkest hours, the Nomads came for them. Soon enough Omegas have fallen, one by one." Prisoner has been forced to stay silent, as Golanski is about to continue his lengthy speech.

"Nomads were and are ripping effects of chaos they seeded carefully by planting traitors like Holiday thorough all these years. A total war plot triggered as the infiltrators began turning colonies against each other. And within this prolonged chaos they have finally emerged in their fullest. Tau systems have been subdued into a marionette state - creating a 'refuge' for beings like 'it', a new world built in their vile and twisted vision. But the very presence of this traitor, defiling our ship as a prisoner of war, proves they are not safe even there. This... 'presence' will be rectified in due time after we are done here." Crowd demanded to issue a sentence, silenced by judge Girard.

"Something we used to call "ally", proven to be a willful tool of our greatest enemy we have ever faced. All the help promises were just a bluff... And I saw that since fall of Toledo... all of them remained ignorant the signs of what we call a second Nomad War. As billions die in nuclear fallout, big share of spilled blood is caught at its hands. Our worlds, homes, families are now reduced to ash. But traitors will never be allowed to witness the new beginning, a new Earth. Before we leave Sirius behind, they will know the pain we suffered." Clearly their plan is to leave and begin anew. Golanski was not fully consumed by hatred yet. Thinking practically, offering all those people some meaningful future if they walk through this hell that their lives became, together.

O'Brien wanted to take a voice in this matter, to which Golanski approved. "Over the years the tools houses developed to inform and in a way influence their own population were taken over. Propaganda machine turned against interest of self-preservation, fueling hatred towards the neighbors. At some point the all-out war became the only possible outcome. This was the point of no return. I have witnessed it happening within Liberty... sane minds already lost and only hope remaining is until end of everything: The Order. But remember - it all started with instigators like Holiday. Old woulds were opened all too easily..."

All of the judges had something to say along the line, Blanxart added: "As we left Crete, we took shelter in Rheinland space to gain resources for our further endeavor. What we have seen there was extra-ordinary. Unlike the rest of the houses Rheinland proved to be the most stable entity until the time came. Following the decadent years and lowered security Nomads have managed to crawl back into power. They have artificially keep this house uniformly and alive, seemingly improving even. But in truth behind this facade of stability and peace they were slowly raising dangerous tensions within the society. And then all grievances were let out at the same time. Economical collapse and social crash followed as the house of cards fell."

Girard, his story was about clash of the titans... "We had hoped Liberty and Gallia were strong enough to withstand Nomad influence. Royalist Gallia, still having issues with ever-growing rebellions in claimed territories have made a pact with nationalist, police state of Liberty to divide Bretonia between the two and establish a truce. Some would say even a weak peace is better than a great war... it did not last long as Liberty annexed Gallic side of the pact, just as Nomads had intended."

It was up to daughter of the admiral to explain the final chapters of Kusari. "Civil war between Kishiro-backed corrupted, increasingly isolationist republic and Samura - the benefactors of the die-hard conservative Exiles. Hogosha rushed to power when the war opened for the path for them, but their profit-aligned minds never saw plot of the Nomads set against them all. I have spent the last days of Kusari with Blood Dragons, trying to fight this influence until the two powers unleashed weapons of mass destruction against each other in last attempt to gain complete dominance over Kusari. Ironic how similar they were, yet none of them wanted to share. But it were the Nomad who supplied both sides with such weapons and whispering to use them. We were too late."

Painful reminders of what lead humanity to such a state each story was meant to increase the blood lust against all related to the Nomads. Followed by a satisfying sacrifice death of a high importance traitor. As the judges began to select appropriate punishment in a last grasp to the concept of justice, crowd yet again had to be silenced from death wishes directed towards the soon-to-be sentenced. For all judges the outcome was simple and predetermined. A dramatic delay for a good show measure. There was nothing in their eyes that could justify this. Nothing that would make it up for the insult of enhanced slave race that Holiday got himself assimilated into, posing now as superior to all of humanity. All this and more made him an irredeemable abomination in their eyes, destined for the only "act of mercy": a capital punishment for all contributions leading to this state of affairs. It would not take long for judges to discuss among their own circle for further course of action. Decision had been made long time ago, daughter of admiral was to deliver the word as her father delivered idea that raised eyebrows of all judges.

"Prisoner John Henry Holiday, you have been found guilty by uniform decision of entire board for genocide, betraying the human race, willfully siding with greatest threat humanity has ever faced in our entire history... You are hereby sentenced to death. However we deem that quick death is not a satisfying measure in comparison to the suffering of millions protecting their homes, all the innocent civilians, women and children, our families..." Admiral replaced Ashley to announce the final resolution. "There is no equal way to punish you... but before you die, you will feel and experience what we went through and felt. You will not be the first in line to get executed. Take him away!" He ordered the two marines that kept John in place to move him for final destination. Judges and some chosen among the public have followed to oversee the entire process. It seemed like an eternity for the prisoner. But further they brought him the more fear and anxiety filled him, these were foreign emotions coming from other source. The closer he got to the location where execution was to take place the more intense those feelings became. He could hear screams echoing through the corridors, silenced immediately by unknown person. Emotions the various people felt here in this place when faced with dreadful means of ending their lives.

They arrived into room with wall full of bullet holes and unwashed stains of old blood. Another person was put against the wall already, awaiting immediate execution. The Order have captured Midori Holliday and set her to be done with just like him. Both were able to see each other, Henry's wife eyes were full of paralyzing fear, begging whoever she looked at to spare her. But for The Order she was yet another abomination and an insult to what it means to be a human. John was brought to very specific place to stand and witness the entire event. His hopes that at least his family would be spared were gone. Attempts to break out and do something were swiftly punished by the soldiers, weakened John collapsed. Midori was tied to a pillar to keep her in place. Officer kept performing regular procedures to form a firing line and prepare to fulfill the will of the judges. All of assault rifles were raised, ready to remove remaining spark of life. The second after final order was given, John dropped on the floor. He felt death intensified by losing the dearest person to him, as if the bullets pierced him as well.

He could finally open his eyes to see Midori lying on the ground, feeling her life fading away, with all the thoughts and moments. A final shot by officer ended it. After the shock, it was gone... he could not feel anything. "What you just witnessed is Nomad neural implant that connects two living beings. Sharing emotions, feelings, even thought... He felt her death, intensified by the strong bond between the two..." - a scientist in the crowd was interrupted by admiral Golanski. "Now set him to die again, for good this time." It was not necessary to repeat his stance. The same procedure followed, the firing line formed...

Raising eyes for one last time. With a flicker of lights in the room everything changed: his captors now were twisted grotesque humanoid beings, their slower speech turning into incomprehensible barking noise, bodies and heads twitching in convulsions. Hatred is all he could hear before a moment later everything turned back to what it was followed by single shot.

A low hum echoing far in the distance brought him back, back at the Shrine.

---

[Doc Holliday]

Doc found himself sprawled on a floor. He was physically exhausted, hungry and now his mind was a twisted, mental wreck, as twisted as a destroyed battlecruiser. He found his way to his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath. Then, he managed to get himself to a seated position.

He felt himself. He had no wound. Then, he looked about wide eyed and scared.
"Midori," he said, "My Midori."
He continued to look around. He saw no eye, no Golanski but whatever had just taken place very much stuck with him. As he began to settle himself a bit, he realized that whatever happened was in his mind. As disciplined as Doc's mind was, whatever was here was powerful and that he was no match for it.
At that point, he began questioning himself. Was wanting to study and understand the Nomads worth it? Would they be willing to find a peaceful co-existence. While he was beginning to realize the entity's power, a part of him told him "You didn't come this far to quit. Humanity may well depend on you."

"Shut up!" he said aloud. More thoughts from whatever just happened crossed his mind. He was found guilty...but of what? His life's mission was the health, safety and well being of others. How could that be something of guilt?
Still, whatever just happened was powerful and it weakened him. It would take close to an hour before Doc found his way to his feet.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Doc Holliday]

Doc continued looking. He was a wreck. He hadn't had a shower in days nor had he changed clothes in an equal time frame. He was starving and week and mentally drained. Still, he dug a little deeper to push onward albeit slowly.

He got to another junction....another leap to the next level. He just sighed as he turned his back to the wall and slid to a sitting position on the floor and began talking to himself.
"I can't.....I just can't," he said aloud to himself. The hunger, the mental anguish, the pain in his tired legs, the fatigue were finally getting to him. He then took out his datapad and pulled up a picture of Midori and the kids.
"Dahlin'" he said, "I think I've finally met my match. It looks like I'll be dying in a quest for knowledge." He managed a smile and kissed the datapad, "I love you, Dahlin' Midori. Take care of our kids." With that, he shut it off. Tired and weak, his arms fell to his sides, the datapad falling out of his hand next to him. Doc was sleeping....but for how long?

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Emissary]

Part III: Eris at withdrawal

Waking up. It would seem like months have passed, barely feeling own body. First came hearing but there was nothing except a simple low electronic hum. Doc was in bed, slightly angled and feels like it's a medical bed. Eyesight came the last and very slowly, blurry at first.

Was it all just a really bad dream then? Such thought might be a comforting one, to think he only woke up from a terrible nightmare and none of this had happened. The eyesight was restoring, coming back to normal state. He looked around. It seemed all familiar to him. A medical bay personal cabin. Typical and fairly small room, just like those in MedForce One, in fact could be just one of those. Slowly he moved his hand, getting back basic arm movements. How long was he out? But it sure felt good to be back.

May be it all never happened, may be had never found the strange looking alien station hidden beyond the outskirts of Liberty space...

But this room was just like any of those he had visited before, checking on patients, all that bringing back good memories and seeing people he had helped to recover. But at the corner of the room he found a something that startled him: the bag he took with him on the mad journey, the bag he lost during exploration of that station, crumpled and broken, alongside his datapad.

[Doc Holliday]

He laid still, just looking towards the end of the room, allowing his senses to return. He felt rested both physically and mentally. Hunger is what he felt most. Seeing his datapad and bag in a corner, his senses were alert.
He found his feet as he sat at the bedside. That's when he realized, he was in hospital cloths. Again, he felt confused. He then looked for a signalling device to call for a nurse. Finding it, he pressed it. He slowly went to his datapad and his bag. The datapad was charged but still didn't have much for reception. Putting it down, he looked into his bag. Rations! He found two inside. Hungry, he took one to his bed and opened it. He wasn't sure what it was but it was better than nothing. About half-way through, he noticed on a small table behind him were his cloths, cleaned and folded. Putting down his ration, he walked around his bed to look in confusion.
"What's going on?" he asked himself. He slowly stood back up and headed for the door to take a peak and see just where he was.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Emissary]

Peeking outside Doc had found an empty hall with doors similar to his, probably leading to same rooms. There wasn't anyone around at all. Only quiet humming and occasional slight rumbling coming somewhere from the depths of this facility. Turns out other doors were locked, leaving Doc only to try out what seem to be an entrance to the hall.

Upon approaching it the doors slides off revealing a big atrium: a three level courtyard within the facility with a large grid-like window to the side. Outside window another portion of the station could be seen in the distance, even parts of it concealed in a fog. Judging by the view outside the base had probably been the largest one Doc ever seen before. And weirdest one for sure.

Atrium architecture was quite strange as well: patterns on the walls, oddly shaped columns, yet some parts were distinctively human made and those were clearly much older parts. As if the place had been something else a long time ago, and part of that long forgotten history was peeking out of cracks behind this newer, this so unhuman look. These surfaces closely resembling ones he had found at that strange station where he had ultimately fell.

While slowly walking around atrium, looking around at this new environment, he had almost missed another person approaching him.

Like in a flash Doc could instantly recall - it's the same person he had seen on the screen of his PDA back the station where he had... died? And before that just once Doc thought seeing someone on the far side of the chasm, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Feeling well, Doctor? We were wondering when and if you'd join our company here."

"Some had thought you'd surely perish where many did before you. Despite that our mutual friend here had been actively dispersing now unfound expectations, even as far as to intervene at own volition." - he gave a quick glance to the balcony on the second floor where John had noticed Anje standing and looking down on them both. "It's been a long month for you. However the journey isn't over yet, some would think it had only began and there is much ahead to envision, such are our thoughts as well and we're all anticipating the outcome."

He calmly approached John, walking down a few steps from the raising border running across the edge. For a few seconds the host of this meeting would simply stare while John was gathering thoughts for something to say.

"Who are you? It is simple - whom you had sought for some time but wouldn't know how to reach. Still, you'd like to know the name, do you? Unfortunately it would not matter to you, the names you use are merely addressing shortcuts. Our names, if they can be considered as such, are different in their purpose and use, they have meanings and those have... certain influences. Besides they're not written or pronounced. So pick any you'd like for remainder of our conversation. What are you then? Now, this is a better question. Right now in here am anything I'd want to be. Out there?" - he glanced at the window, seemingly pointing towards outside the station. "Well, that's not something you'd need to be aware at the present condition and moment, awareness and trust develops over time. Still, it may help you to know that we had met before."

A striking thought - John had seen him before, but where and when? Fleeting memories. There, that face, once among the delegates of a minor diplomatic mission, another then during some meeting, but where were they and when? Everything is in haze. Tiny reflection fragments were all that's left.

"But you do have many more questions and conflicted concerns underneath the surface. You've come this far, endured enough, so be at home - ask what you will, speak your mind but mind what you think - it would be disappointing for us all here if they wouldn't match."

[Doc Holliday]

Doc was confused by the way he spoke nor could he place him.
"Where have I seen him?" he thought to himself. Doc was usually quite good with faces but couldn't place it. For now, he let it go.

"Who and what are but identities," he said, "at times, they are the same but we could debate that forever."

"I do have questions," he continued as he looked out a window, "but it's hard to ask about things I haven't been able to comprehend." He then turned to him, "You have me at a disadvantage. Nice work! Most don't have that against me. Would you like to drop me a hint as to where we met, even if it was brief?"

Yes, he did have a huge advantage. He wasn't sure where to start. Considering all that had happened and his inferior position, he didn't know what question to ask or even how to ask it. As intelligent and mentally disciplined that he was, he really felt at a loss. The comment of "it would be disappointing for us all here if they wouldn't match So, he figured it would be best to start simple.

"So, um, where am I exactly is where exhists?" he asked.

"Um.....

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Emissary]

In many years of diplomacy with various groups John had become an expert in his own way, in part through extensive knowledge of human anatomy as a surgeon: quickly catching smallest movements, unintended hand gestures, subtle facial reactions, tiny muscle twitches, half-smiles, unfinished sly smirks and all the little bits that often gave away additional intents or indicate whether person is conflicted, may be hiding something or lying outright. This indirect way of reading another person state proved to be very helpful skill in his career as a diplomat. It's also one of the reasons why he preferred to have direct conversations in person rather than sending faceless text missives back and forth.

But all this knowledge seem being much less of use here. His counterpart wasn't a human being despite displaying self as one. What stood there in front of John was only a proxy shell, in a twisted sense it was here for John's own convenience sake, but it was rather unsettling convenience. While such communication would be more efficient for a human it was terrifying. Who was the human that now stands in front of him? What happened to him? Was it a choice or... not. It's an eerie alien world John found himself at where human concepts most certainly have no place. And in this world a human being can become a mere tool. As gut-wrenching the thought might be was there any difference to how mankind used and continues to use other life forms to sustain own empires? But perhaps the person in front of him isn't real either: John knew those who had experienced lengthy and intense contact with Nomads had significant reality perception distortions, like being able to see people who were either long dead or physically never were there in the first place.

"We stand in the halls of forgotten history, John. Once it had been a very ambitious attempt. It had so many names during it's planning phases, codenames constantly changing during construction, various words were assigned, but all of it covered in a thick veil of secrecy and restricted access. The last known codename was "Altair" and it had remained so, but you wouldn't find this name mentioned anywhere. Back then both Liberty and Rheinland were vying to establish presence and maintain control within the area of this nebulae cluster known to you as Omicrons. Fiercely contesting over legacy that wasn't theirs to inherit. Both kept it wrapped beneath the level of public attention, so it was a silent and deadly game, and those involved it in would keep it that way. In fact it still goes on to this day, just not here anymore. Their struggle had attracted our interest. Between these two and few other minor parties making their own attempts it was Liberty to invest considerably more resources into their operations. But all the funds and effort wasn't without ever increasing complications - supply convoys became valuable targets for Corsairs, and we have ensured such course collisions were more than mere luck.

Environment around wrapped into what seem to be was it's past condition. Gone were those unusual architecture elements and Liberty red-blue insignia was proudly shining on the big wall. A few parts were missing, seems the base was built in a hurry, but the view outside into other parts of the station hinted at much grander scale of this operation. Like out of thin air the atrium became filled with people. Station personnel, no different from any other station, except security seem was excessively tight there with checkpoints at every passageway. The host gestured Doc to follow across, nobody around noticed the two as if they weren't there.

Predictably the 'powers that be' had decided it was absolutely paramount to establish a more permanent solution that would solve most of the risks associated with expeditions. Besides Freeport 7 had already became inconvenient in this matter, difficult to use as staging ground for larger operations. So this... Well, this was to be their bold and final word to end any competition once and for all, to establish firm presence within Omicrons, to set a fully self-sustainable nexus from which to expand into uncharted territories. At least such was the plan, but as you stand here now you know they did succeed."

The scene slightly faded into blur and days ahead passed, weeks came and went in seconds before his eyes. Occasionally John could focus and slow down the time to overhear conversations and learn that several patrols went missing, an exploration crew to one of the distant planets in the system never got back. Worse yet supply transports were missing as well. There were talks of food rations going to be halved. There was a hope home would send them reinforcements.

"In truth communication relays were down for a long time. But in order to keep the secrecy of this place the access to wide-range communication was a privilege of a selected few administrative members who would be afraid to admit there were problems. In the following weeks security measures were increasing dramatically and living in deep uncharted space so far away... The station was built upon so many secrets and regulations. Wasn't that left hand didn't knew what right one was doing, they never were even aware the other one existed. Altair went operational long before it was properly staffed and equipped, and contrary to what this place was supposed to be the facility wasn't self-sufficient. Inadvertently yet predictably several major system failures followed. Long before the outcome it had already became a prison where wardens were prisoners as much as everyone else there."

Rumors were on the lips and dreadful thoughts occupying minds around them as John and his guide followed through corridors inside the complex. From time to time he could hear administration repeatedly announced it had everything under control. People around talked quietly, privately, away from prying eyes of security cameras. Tired faces all around. John already had a feeling where this was going. Further into complex across a large hall John saw station security rounding up personnel suspected sabotaging station systems and stealing food rations. Explosion nearby deafened and blinded John for a while. Gunshots were heard echoing in haze and blur, angered crowd shouting. Voice in loudspeakers demanded to surrender but then someone tore the box from the wall. Crowd rushed towards hangar bay, the moments after series of explosions blew off connection corridor.

[Doc Holliday]

Doc found himself in a unique situation. No one seemed to notice him and his escort walking about the chaos but still, Doc took the opportunity to watch. He stopped, putting his hands behind his back as the apprehended plead their case to unsympathetic guards. They were, after all, victims of thieves stealing food as they too had too cut back and maybe even further if some were stealing more than their share. But this was humanity and Doc understood it.

"It could be reaction," commented Doc to his escort, "it could be fear or it could be a few honorable men doing as instructed....apprehending thieves. In any case, the end result is often chaotic as they have no doubt caught some innocent bystanders among the guilty."
Doc paused a minute in thought before making an observation, "All the Houses and even non-houses do that. Rather than take the time to find who's actually guilty, they just take in everyone. it takes less time. I don't like it but they do it."

But then it got more puzzling. The explosions and flashes disturbed him as if they noticed his presence yet still no ONE did! He shielded his face a bit and even ducked a bit a time or two but still, it seemed like it was a show for him to watch.

"The human mind is still a great mystery to many," Doc continued, "we can probe it, monitor its waves, do deep scans of it and even treat it for disease but how it runs emotions? That still remains a great mystery."

Doc then turned to his host, "Tell me, is that what the Nomads are really doing? Perhaps trying to figure out humans in that way? In my years, I've had as little success as anyone else but if the Nomads ever figure it out, I'd like that knowledge for myself before mankind wipes itself out."

Doc then snickered at what he said, "Heh.....on that note, why the Nomads attack humans when they may well kill themselves off makes me wonder....well, with the exception of a handful of us that seek their knowledge."

Doc then stood, his hands still behind his back, watching...wondering.

---

[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises

[Emissary]

The host attentively listened to the questions and gestured his guest to take a seat near the table. Seats were somewhat odd in design, sculpted in twisted organic shapes and seemingly made out of single material, but surprisingly very comfortable.

"Close enough, it is a study of human behavior, although it remains an unintended deviation from the purpose. Performed through combination of rearranged memories, experiences reconstructed and vision of events that may occur, gathering reactions, responses, impulses. Those you experience may not necessarily be your memories, instead coming from someone else entirely or multiple sources even. Transition processes are of certain interest to us because of how localized your memory is and how it struggled to interpret external sources." - he took the pause to observe reaction before continuing: "Most of which had to be retrieved and accumulated through the means of accessing neural structures, and direct access is most efficient too, not while the mind is in hibernation states but when it is functioning actively as it were, in a familiar environment too."

Surprisingly the host described the subject a bit further, from memory manipulation to mapping patterns between different individuals, focusing mostly at efficiency their approach had yielded and how well it allowed them to get to know humans. Not from a distance but from within, through all the senses possessed and meretriciously sorting behavior patterns. Not simply dissecting to find what's inside and observing in the wild trying to figure out how a creature thinks, but actually becoming the subject of research. Hearing all this in such direct manner stirred troubling thoughts lingering inside...

"Are you worried? Does it make you uneasy to think that perhaps in some ways we may know you more than you might know yourself?"

The man gave a brief pause letting Doc gather his thoughts. Does he know what Doc thinking? It's that piercing gaze again. The eyes surely human, but what is on the other end of neural network behind them sure wasn't and it wasn't a singular being there either. Illusions stacked upon illusions. What would it be like to see their true form? All John had seen before were either 'incubi' used for infestation or space-faring organic forms many would think of as ships. But is there something else? Other way they manifest themselves in the world?

"Exhaustion. Hunger. Here, try these." - he pointed at the glass-like bowl on the small table nearby. There were several orbs the size of an apple but completely spherical semi-transparent matte surface with several brighter smaller orbs inside. "They're edible, but what they may lack in flavor is compensated by rejuvenation capacity they will provide for you. It's a modified strain based on a combination of others that we have found at Gaia. I suppose you may find irony that we would also engineer this. But it would not be the first time - there are various others 'fruits' of our labor that are being used across the colonies. This one is for the infrastructure to sustain human life here. While some candidates are found physically well preserved, plenty were salvaged at bleak conditions. Some didn't see purpose and benefit to their own existence, melting it down quicker than what they could handle. Regardless of the reasons their physical forms had to be restored, as had been yours after that fatal experience. Think of this place similar to your own restoration facility."

Medical bed, sterile environment, the room he woke up felt somewhat familiar too.

"Only so few are worthwhile the effort and this endeavor while the rest can't help themselves to make their short lives meaningful and would be of no use to us either."

Doc heard before about some humans willingly becoming infested. Individuals coming from very different backgrounds, yet all sharing same outcome if the tales to believed are true. Were they all manipulated into submission? For all he had been told by fellow colleagues the process was irreversible and original personality is completely erased, banished from own body as the alien parasite takes over. Gruesome fate by all accounts, who'd want to do that willingly? And yet desperation, no matter how drastic, alone it cannot be the only reason. For all the details and explanations made it only caused avalanche of questions.

"Human spark burns bright yet too short to make a difference, much of the time is spent to attempt to re-learn things others may know already, doing so in a very inefficient manner and leaving so little to make use of acquired knowledge. Living merely because that's the function their physical body performs until it has used up internal resources. Still not enough for some they drive it to early expiration by breaking it apart in so many ways. What is beyond? Not much else. Constrained memory-sampling reconstruction that you call imagination may form beliefs of a life after, a hope for a better one too. A simple desire of improvement and reflection of disappointment in existing conditions, in a lack of purpose to exist. Paradises manufactured and simple wishes fulfilled, there is indulgence in illusion sense of a purpose to be revealed from an act of own demise. Faking one where there is none, submissively accepting conveniently provided substitutes."

At the same time John could notice two figures appeared at the upper floor in atrium hall, passing to the opposite side. An older man in a lab coat followed by a young woman he could recognize.

"You were asking about the attacks, but when were humans, as a whole, under attack? Insight into your past reveals that humans had no encounters beyond. No aggression from outside as all known conflicts were internal. Unless you'd like to imply that humans were at any point endangered, but could it be the reason why they had driven many terrestrial-limited forms into extinction? The answer we all know already. So accustomed humans are to the conflicts that any external-driven activity arbitrarily related or assumed to be related to you is most likely to be perceived as initiation of a conflict phase. Feeling so insecure and consumed by self-preservation doctrine screaming wildly from within, it deafens any sense and broadly defines anything as a threat. In universe where you are natively limited to very specific environments safety is an illusion. Clinging to their instincts and failing to comprehend the scope beyond the measurement of their fleeting moments right before being swept from the board. Perhaps you may see it as a game where the board stretches into horizon and figures move in varying patterns, many times it becomes necessary to keep advancements of special interests at bay."

Uneasiness struck John again. Allusion to infinite board could not be a mere coincidence, heard about it before.

"The fault of interpretation often lies in perception of our motives through the refraction reasoning of your own, which in many paths are an extension of your own fundamental instincts. The instinct doesn't make in-depth analysis to perform, it's a shortcut to trigger a reaction, to make a split second decision and always strive to make choices that would favor your own life, to protect it from any harm and possible premature expiration. To live and exist no matter the cost and... no matter the purpose. Take for instance when you cowered at seeing, hearing and feeling an explosion nearby in the flashback. It felt quite real enough, did it? All the while you already knew or at least suspected it is an illusion, a fake shroud circumventing your sensory inputs, the reflex reaction was triggered faster before any conscious produced decision could take precedence. It takes considerably less into account and overall it could be called race condition in your terms. Compared to that distant and possibly abstract purposes tend to be of increased complexity and do not enter the equation of an instinct execution. But, of course, you know much of this already."

In a brief moment John saw something, it was all around him, massive nondescript swarm of entities of light and shadows, or perhaps it was just a singular one.

"But a purpose not unlike the one you struggle to find and identify, aren't you John? For instance you had doubts about this journey, restless period thinking possible outcomes over and over again, all the same subject to intensified sense of fear to discourage you. Naturally doing so to protect from danger, or rather what seem to be dangerous for all the things you had known so far and been told. The instinct does not consider thoroughly nor validates the claims, it simply uses alignments, predicaments, established and sometimes loose associations. Recognizing that fault in some capacity you still had attempted to have a form of protection by inserting that object conveniently provided to you. In truth inserting an illusion for the sake of temporary comfort, a humble lie to feed into fake of false sense of safety. At the very same time having doubts in its usefulness and even reaching conclusion that if need be we could pull it out from your body in the same manner you had inserted it. Eventually drawing from knowledge and experience of many more sources the conclusion and decision you have made allowed you to pass the threshold and surpass the barrier within. Yet how many more barriers do you need to break if the understanding is truly your goal? Challenge them."

//update: fixed first link