How many beings had she seen? Only a few, she thought, five, maybe nine, including the people in the operating room. But she had distinct records of at least one hundred and fifty six beings in her system, but she didn't remember meeting them.
What exactly happened to her in that operating room? She had been shut down for most of the time. When she had been regenerated, she wasn't frightened. She should have been terrified, but it all somehow seemed… familiar. There were people around her, some mechanics, and some doctors. They didn't seem to know what she was; with all their faces: dumbfounded. She was confused; she had been shoved out of the operating room, strapped down to a rolling table and taken away, then nothing and she woke up a second time in a large debate room, but it was empty, all excerpt her and a strange man. She winced. There was a rather large section of her shoulder out that contained a prosthetic violence hormone, and now some of the loose wires were rubbing together, and she looked hideous with what seemed a gaping hole in her shoulder.
The man was sitting at the end of the table. He was nervous and frightened; it was clear on his face. "Um…" He gulped. Not very professional, she thought. "What are you…? I mean, what do you call yourself?" she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His eyes widened. "What do you need to speak?" He asked. He was smart, she'd give him that. She opened a panel where her collarbone should be and there was an empty socket. He walked out of the room cautiously to go get what she required. While he was gone, she examined the room; it was tall with no windows. She heard a slow creak and turned around to see the frail man re-enter the room carrying a voice box, with which he handed out to her. She gave him a sarcastic "how nice" look and took it from him then gently placed it into the empty panel.
She opened her mouth again, but stopped. What WAS her name? "Do you need a different one?" the man asked. "No." she said. "I can't remember my name." the man reached under the table and pulled out a stack of files. Paper flopped out as he plopped it onto the shiny table. He shoved the papers back in and opened the first folder. "I was afraid this would happen." He said, flipping through the pages. "What would happen?" she asked shakily. "Well," he said coughing from the dust, "when the experts examined your head they found that most of your memory was gone. They still don't know why, though." "How will they find out?" she said, worry still echoing in her voice. "I've said too much already." He said. "You're not supposed to know any of this anyways."