The alarm blared almost painfully loud and intruded upon Ninavask's mind. The sharp and intense oscillating noise stirred the depths of his sleep suffused mind like a blender. Half remembered shapes and dreams were caught up in the sound and shredded beneath its presence. Immediately the half remembered visions deteriorated into only the vaguest of impressions and vague malformed thoughts that themselves sank beneath the surface of his consciousness.
"Silence." The man droned, and the noise obeyed. His eyes remained shut as he lay there, tangled amidst the sheets of his bed. The cramped, bunk like, alcove a twisted mass of linens, man, and metal.
Even though his eyes remained closed, Dr Ninavask Revan's mind was no longer on rest. As he tasked his augmentations with self-diagnostic the man's eyes fluttered rapidly beneath his eyelids. Images and streams of data flowing before him, invisible to all but him, as his neocom interacted with his ocular implants.
The half seen shapes of a calendar, schedules, and several of the day's latest news clippings from across the custer fluttered before the good doctor's vision before he even made the attempt to get up from his bed. Eyelids snapped open as he carefully disentangled himself from the linens of his bed, and cast them aside.
Lights slowly raised the luminosity of the room from opaque darkness to dim illumination. The room filled with a low-powered blue glow that gave just enough light to see by, but not enough to blind as one woke and adjusted.
A path through the darkness became visible. Amongst the twisted and cluttered shadows that the light brought into being it ran from the bed and joined another clear thoroughfare of austere white carpet, dyed blue by the colored lights above.
Ninavask paid barely a glance towards the half-seen things hidden alongside the illuminated path as he stood. Feeling the force feedback of his augmentations. Hearing the faintest of whirrs and mechanical whispers as his limbs worked, and lifted his body from where it had lain. In the silence of his quarters the sounds were nearly as loud as the alarm moments ago had been.
Sleep still clung to the edges of his mind like a moss, and the thoughts that came through felt muddled and dirty. As if there were a weight somewhere within the confines of his skull, a fog that held back proper thought.
With a sluggish but forcibly dignified step, the capsuleer found his way to the washroom, where the lighted path through his quarters ended. The door slid open on pneumatic pistons and snapped shut behind him. Once inside he began to murmur orders to his quarters smart-control suite. Within seconds a hot shower hissed incessantly and soft music rumbled through hidden speakers. A piece that evoked images of a storm, somewhere on the horizon but oncoming and dark.
Within fifteen minutes the doctor was not only fully awake but back in his quarters. A towel drying the remains of damp hair and synthetic flesh as he strode into the fully illuminated room. Austere white light filled what would have been an similarly clean by spartan space, should he have cared to keep the place clean.
Instead the quarters were strewn with stacks of strange artifacts. Prosthetics and augmented limbs in various states of disrepair and/or dismemberment lay on the carpet. Internal lubricants stained into the ivory carpet without even the most vague notion of care for the mess.
Weathered yellow texts and newer more contemporary paper-based books lay in labyrinthine towers on one side of the room. Stacked precariously amongst themselves based on an arbitrary order that even the room's occupant wasn't entirely familiar with.
Piuled besides the texts were weapons of various ages, models, and practicalities. Just thrown in a heap on the floor, no pretext of cleanliness even attempted with them. Some of the weapons were firearms. Gallente hybrid small arms and amarrian laser weaponry. There was a caldari model rifle and pistol sitting besides one another apart from the others, disassembled and waiting for inspection. A large plasma weapon lay, power less and broken into several distinct pieces with countless hoses and support structures disconnected and strewn across the carpet around it.
Last and least of all were the collection of antiquated weapons that lay in some vague order alongside modern counterparts. Old genuine swords from various cultures across new eden, alongside modern reproductions with newer materials. Old kinetic fire arms alongside modernized sug throwers and munitions.
The entirety of this collection of odds and ends lay on the floor of the otherwise cramped quarters. Filling space save for the narrow pathways that ran from bed, to washroom, to closet, and to exit. Looking more like piles of refuse then objects of study, but objects of study they were.
It was hard to account for the hours upon hours the good doctor had spent seated amongst the oddities that filled his quarters. Perusing them, studying them, and staring at them in various different capacities. Considering what he saw, and considering what could be. At least that was what he called it.
Ninavask made no pretense of looking at his collection today, he did not have time. He strode to the closet and picked an outfit. Black nondescript slacks and a plain black high collared long-sleeved shirt. No ornament and no tags on either. He dressed quickly and then marched barefoot into the second room of his apartments. The lights of his bedchamber going dark behind him as he passed through the sliding door.
The main chamber of his apartments aboard Indigo City had been refurbished into an office. Much like in his quarters themselves the room was cluttered, but this time there was an order to the madness. A sense of professionalism.
The room was divided down the middle between workshop, and office, in truth. On the side of the room closest to the door to his bedchamber the floor was synthetic wood panel the color of chocolate. Rustic and quaint, it had the look of a quaint traditionalist lounge. It was Ninavask's understanding the style had been popular at some time in the distant past in Amarr, and a similar style had been popular on gallente prime. Whereas the Amarr style had been grandiose and the gallente style had been flowing and sinuous, both had given the appearance of power and respect.
The architect had managed to blend the two in a way that suited Ninavask's taste for an office. The broad desk was carved directly from the wood that made the floor, a great hump of wood that flowed out of the floor itself. The terminal on the synthetic wood desk a mound of self contained electronics. Only visible by the screen that lit up as he approached it.
The chair, his chair, was a rich red syntha-leather roller. Padded and reinforced in the right places to support his extra bulk. Nearly a throne, if Ninavask chose to admit it to himself. The throne where he ran his tiny little empire.
The other half the room apart from the office was workshop. Made different by the abject lack of the faux wood panelling that adorned one side. Concrete and metal made the floor here, with workbenches and tall metallic toolboxes alongside them. Machinery for bending and manipulating metal into different shapes lurked in the shadows of the unlit workshop.
The workstations were located in a single great pit opposite the plush office, and some of the stations even went to the floor beneath the office itself. A whole third room of a sort devoted to the few times when he had the spare time to enjoy a hands on application. Metal grid-work stairs led down into the workshop and a small wire suspended bridge crossed over the pit to the primary access to and from his apartments.
As Ninavask seated himself her heard the twin scratches of claws on metal. He did not pay the matching shapes that slunk from the shadows of the pit any mind, and even as the two creatures circled about the desk he barely seemed to notice them as he activated his terminal.
It wasn't until a pair of huge furred heads forced their way up beneath his arms to rest themselves on his legs that he even noted the presence of the twin slaver hounds.
"Off, you two." The doctor murmured as he shooed the pair who obediently moved their heads but did not leave him alone. Instead the huge hounds settled down onto their haunches and peered up at him with matching pairs of deep brown eyes. Inquisitive, but obediently unobstructive.
A faint smile played across the doctor's lips as he connected his neocom with the terminal and continued the startup process even as he reached out and scratched both beasts behind the ears.
That way he stayed for several minutes as he reviewed the information on his terminal. Information that could not be sent directly to his neocom. Industrial updates, bulk shipment invoices from one facility to the next. The minute details that his own private empire of industry operated on within origin. Details that would often be perused by entire divisions of an average company, he streamed through in one morning. Committing to memory just what facility had received what items, when, and if there had been any issues.
Before he shut down the terminal Dr Ninavask, CEO and sole shareholder of VaskTech Origin, made note of several separate deliveries that had been shorted on products. He would need to find somewhere to include them in his schedule.
As the capsuleer stood from his desk, a notification appeared at the corner of his vision. A time stamp of precisely 11:00:00, the notification read "depart for breakfast appointment with R&D administrator."
Whistling softly for the still shapes of his two hounds, Ninavask snatched a coat from the rack beside his desk and strode across the suspension bridge over his workstation. Donning boots at the small entry hall to his office before exiting into the blue-gray hall beyond. His slaver hounds right as his side.
When Ninavask departed the industrial sector of Indigo city, where he had purchased the module of office space that housed his office and quarters. The office space housed only him, and the rest of it had been repurposed as storage warehouse for VaskTech. On one of the primary tram-transport rails through the industrial sector, it saw frequent stops and deliveries of product that would be relocated to other VaskTech facilities at a later time.
The slaver hounds followed along obediently as the capsuleer made his way from his warehouse to a personnel lift. One specifically separated from the standard baseliner lifts for capsuleers. All he needed do was approach and a wall mounted scanner not only detected his presence, but ran his Pilot's License through the Indigo City computers.
Immediately the door opened and soon enough the Lift was rocketing through the bowels of the Fortizar. Headed for the more upscale parts of the station.
The meeting did not take long.
Ninavask met his head of research and development at precisely 11:24:53 on the veranda of a popular all day breakfast diner. Veranda was of course a polite term. The structure was entirely inside a contained bubble of superstructure that surrounded the diner itself. Every exterior surface of the bubble covered in high definition view screens that gave the appearance of a pleasant gallentean city scape and horizon. A sun modeled after the Origin systems on Isis shimmering down in simulation of mid-day light.
Still it was quaint and pleasant and from Ninavask's experience many of his baseline employees found the illusion delightful.
The meeting itself was nothing special. Tomura Vel was a professional woman and she made her points quickly, and concise.
Two of the projects the cybernetic augmentations division were working on had been deemed to be unfeasible on costs and manufacturing time. The augmentations also were showing not to be worth the effort in other areas, with a marked inefficiency in their design.
With his approval, the project was scrapped and they moved on to other topics, one of Ninavask's favorites.
Weapons developement.
"Project PLX-MPC23 is proceeding better than 22 or 21 were. The new model has a marked increase in efficiency with test fires and more power is being recycled from the excess discharge. The prototype you will see today will have the new energy converter installed." Tomura said enthusiastically over a bite of crisp golden toast slathered in butter.
"This will be a zero atmosphere test?" Ninavask recalled as he himself only drank a cup of synthetic coffee. The stimulant did little but it had been liberally sweetened with creamer until the coffee looked more like a cup of chocolate rather than acrid black fluid it had been.
"On Eidolon, yes. We're testing the application of the weapon in a zero atmosphere but standard gravity environ. Eidolon is perfect for precise measurements of the potential effects of the weapon inside breached starships and-"
"I will witness it myself, Tomura." Ninavask said with a raised hand, stalling the woman's excited babbling. "I'm sure the weapon will be up to snuff. This is the twenty third variant we've designed. I imagine we have learned from past mistakes quite well."
The woman nodded emphatically.
"But of course, we are excited for you to see the results and give us the go ahead for production." She said and took another crunching bite out of her toast.
Ninavask only nodded as he sipped at his coffee, considering even as he blindly reached down a hand to stroke the stiff fur of one of his hounds. Montgomery, Monty for short, whined faintly and Ninavask glanced down at the hound curiously. It was staring off into the diner itself, but saw nothing of any value.
"What about medical research, Tomura? Any news on Aditrion tests for VaskMed?" Ninavask asked as he glanced back to Tomura. He noticed a peculiar tightness to the woman's eyes as she took another, slower, bite of toast. It was a simple guess to decide he would not like what he heard.
"Trial runs have been… unfortunate." Tomura Vel said in the careful tone only a twenty year veteran of giving bad news could. It wasn't an attempt to hide the truth of a matter's severity. Simply the tone of someone who thought the issue could be solved without informing him.
"I expect complete transparency, Miss Vel." Ninavask reminded her, his tone taking on an edge as he peered at the woman over his coffee. "I do not care if the news is good or bad, I want to be made aware of it." He intoned and to her credit Tomura Vel straightened and nodded solemnly. All traces of hesitation gone.
The trial examples of the drug is having effects the bio team was not expecting. They fear the chemical was incorrectly mixed, or something might have contaminated the samples. We are dealing with unexpected side effects that the team is currently isolating. Unfortunately due to a failing on the team's part, we have lost track of many of the volunteers for the batch testing of human trials."
"Really?" Ninavask mused, and he noticed the surprise in Tomura's eyes. She had expected him to be angry, not curious.
"I did very poorly in study of pharmacology. I would like to speak with the team in regards to whatever effects this drug is having and get their input." He explained and Tomura nodded, pulling out an electronic tablet to tap down the notes.
"I will get a message to them, they could give you better details then I can. However I do have some basics of what have been noticed in the test subjects that were being monitored more closely…" Tomura trailed off as a commotion inside the diner drew her attention.
A loud crash sounded from inside and Ninavask turned his gaze from the administrator to the doors that led in from the veranda. Other patrons also glanced up from their meals and conversations in alarm.
At his feet and beside the table both Montgomery and Benjamin growled low. Their hackles raised as the hounds slowly unfolded themselves and stood at full height on their four paws. Snarling towards the door.
Possible Hostile? A warning flag asked in the corner of Ninavask's vision. Just at the very edge of sight on his ocular implants. A query from the control subroutine implanted in each hounds skull.
"Hold." the capsuleer commanded and the growling ceased, but both hounds remained poised and ready. Their teeth bared and slick with saliva.
There was another crash and through the doors onto the veranda stumbled a man. A minmatar man, judging by the chocolate color to his skin and the set of their brow. He seemed disoriented briefly as he glanced about the veranda, and it's all encompassing holodisplay.
It wasn't until the man's eyes found Ninavask's own that any semblance of sanity seemed to appear. The man was wide eyed and raving, practically frothing at the mouth when he stepped onto the simulated balcony. Yet once those dark eyes locked on the capsuleer he went, strangely, quiet.
"You." The minmatar hissed almost too low to hear, and his face had a haunted cast to it.
Ninavask narrowed his eyes at the man and glanced to Tomura.
"No… really? Did you bring it here as an example or something?" He demanded in annoyance. What was the woman thinking? Allowing an experiment out in the open like this.
Yet no… as he stared into the woman's eyes he saw an alarm there, and a lack of comprehension. She shook her head and Ninavask dismissed the notion. Even as the woman denied the accusation he already had decided it was unlikely.
No this was just a very unfortunate coincidence.
The minmatar, a brutor judging by their natural body mass and broad shoulders, did not seem to notice they were having a conversation. Mumbling and hissing something accusatory that Ninavask did not even deign to hear.
"You seem confused friend, if you would like I can call a medical team. They can have you taken back to one of my clinics for treatment." Ninavask interrupted and the brutor seemed dumbstruck by the offer. As if the interruption had cut off some very important thought process that the man just couldn't find once it was gone.
He did not try talking again and instead threw himself at the capsuleer and his guest. Heedless of the two huge slaver hounds that stood at full height between them.
At a single mental command both Gregory and Montgomery leapt into action. Both creatures acted with ferocity and the precision only a well trained slaver hound had, but one extra command forced them to restrict themselves. A command that was actually all but bred into slaver hounds on their homeworlds, and the primary purpose of the hounds existance.
Capture.
The hounds struck the man in twin massives of howling snarling fury and tumbled across the veranda with the man beneath them. Dragging him this way and that as they mauled, but purposey did not main, the man. Snapping at his face to cause fear, chomping down on a hand that tried to strike them back without servering the limb entirely. Taking hold of a leg and tossing the comparatively light minmatar about as if he were a stuffed toy.
The man did not put up as much fight as Ninavask had hoped, but it did take the dogs a surprising amount of time to completely subdue the man. About the same time the fight ended, Montgomery's jaws wrapped firmly around the brutor's neck as Gregory pinned the now limp man's legs to the ground with two massive paws, security finally show their faces.
A pair of uniformed security officers charged out onto the veranda with pistols drawn and trained on the twin hounds. Their voices seemed startled as they commanded the animals of all things to freeze.
Gregory and Montgomery took one look at the security guards, and Ninavask was almost proud when the hounds glanced to him. Their cranial implants sending the query to him before they acted.
Possible hostiles?
Friendlies. Ninavask confirmed even as he stood up, hands raised up over his head to show the jumpy security guards he had no weapon.
It took some explaining, and the corroboration of some of the staff and patrons of the diner itself, but eventually the security guards were able to establish that the minmatar had attacked them. Not the other way around.
Both Gregory and Montgomery were licensed with the Origin government, as were their substantial augmentations, and being as the doctor himself was a Capsuleer that allowed some significant leeway.
It wasn't until the security officers tried to take the unconscious and bloodied minmatar that Ninavask had to even begin flashing ISK to smooth the issue over. It did not take much, thankfully. Only about twenty thousand Krona per, or about seventeen isk each. It was such a paltry sum that Ninavask almost laughed when it took, comparatively, pennies for the officers to wander off.
At about the same time as the officers left a pair of black armored soldiers arrived. Bearing the familiar armored carapace design of FORTIS troopers, Ninavask's own personal army in Origin. All marked on record as VaskTech's self employed private security firm, of course.
They had answered the non-emergency distress call Ninavask had sent out when the man had attacked, and they stood watching Greg and Monty guard their "kill" in professional silence.
"I want you two to take this man back to the VaskMed research facility. I will send video of the attack ahead, and I want you to instruct all FORTIS teams on station to be on the lookout for men and women exhibiting similar psychotic episodes. For their own good we will take them into custody and care for them, free of charge." The doctor instructed, and th soldiers nodded obediantly then moved to pick up the unconscious minmatar between them.
The pair of hounds gave the two FORTIS troopers no trouble, and indeed swiftly moved back to their master's side. Watching their latest chew toy be carried of with the concern or interest of a particularly bored… well… hound.
Once the minmatar was gone the only sign of his presence was the slight scuffle and claw marks that marred the veranda's faux tile flooring.
A twinge of annoyance marred Ninavask's features as he regarded that, and he made a mental note to foreward some funds to the owner to have that repaired. He would not have it be known that he did not pay for mistakes, no matter how minor they were, that affected the general public. Especially when the mistakes were quite visible for the public to see.
With that matter taken care of, Dr Ninavask turned back to Tomura Vel and smiled pleasantly.
"I am terribly sorry about that intrusion Miss Vel. We were discussing the test subjects of Aditrion? I believe I will be looking forward to that meeting with the researchers in VaskMed. Just remind them to use small words, I did not major in Pharmacology."
For her credit, Tomura Vel was better at controlling her emotions than the last administrator Ninavask had hired. The smile she returned was pleasant, if a bit strained about the eyes. There was a paleness about her face to that Ninavask's augmented eyes did not miss.
Fear then. Well a little bit a fear for one's job, and one's life, was an excellent motivator as far as Ninavask was concerned. Hopefully Miss Vel would remain with VaskTech for a very long time.