Hello Everyone.

So sorry about the wait, but as you can probably guess, this was a massive chapter to get done.

It is almost entirely new, so hopefully my previous readers will enjoy seeing something different.

Hope everyone is doing well and as usual make sure to follow and review.

Have a great read.

Alex Lee


Wednesday, August 15th, 2024

0700 Hours

Login ID: COMMANDER

Password: ****** *******

Good morning Commander. You have three new messages available for viewing. One is flagged as priority.

"Very well. Bring them up on screen one."

Command acknowledged. Messages displayed on screen one.

"Also bring up timeline for Operation Fine Luda, on screen two."

Command acknowledged.

Operation Fine Luda's timeline currently stands at sixty percent completion.

Designation L2, Private Drew A. Crawford's, recovery time was much lower than anticipated. Due to this delay, estimated time before full Squad Lockdown can be deployed stands at ten weeks.

Research on positioning network, has been completed, and is ready for mission testing/deployment.

Next timeline objective: Bring in live alien for interrogation.

"I suppose that will have to suffice. Send notice to Lockdown. She is to begin training L2 as soon as he is physically able. Hopefully he makes up for his delay through hard work."

Command Acknowledged. Notice sent.

"Good. Also send notice to Doctor McGonaghue that I wish to see him in exactly thirty minutes. It seems he and I need to have a chat about his honestly in regards to his work."

Command acknowledged. Notice sent.

"Can you text to voice the priority message from today's batch?"

Command not recognized. Would you like to input a new command, Sir?

"Negative. Voice recognition off."

Command acknowledged. Powering down main processors.

"Let's just get this over with."


The Commander.

Current acting chair member of the Council of Nations. Former Major General of the United States Marine Core. And of course, current Commander of XCOM. The single most successful, and deadly, Extraterrestrial Combat Unit the planet had ever created.

A very long and reputable resume to be sure, but one that is quite fitting for the man who is arguably all that's currently standing between us, and total subjugation at the hands of an alien force.

As for who he is, well, that's different matter altogether.

Many directors and government workers would tell you that he is a born and bred military General. They describe him as a man of dedication, efficiency, and conviction. Who expects the best from all who dare work beside him, and tolerates nothing less than total and complete success from anything he sets his sights on.

Commanders and military leaders will tell you that he is a brutal, but brilliant, tactical genius, while showing you file after file of how ruthlessly driven an individual he can be, and how he will use each and every advantage available to him, humane or not, to secure victory for his side of the fight.

Off the battlefield, he is often described as unnervingly patient; killing just as easily with his words, as he has a pistol, and moving through the bureaucratic world with all the ease of a morning walk. Taking what he needs and leaving with next to no trace.

The truth is that no one can really agree on who the Commander is. What everyone can agree on however, is that he is without question, the last person on this planet that you would ever wish to earn the ire of.

Least you end up in his sights.

Arguably, he is also the last person you would ever expect to see, sitting quietly in his chair, reading the XCOM equivalent of the morning newspaper, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and his reading glasses well adjusted.

However, that is just the situation he finds himself in week after week, month after month, year after year.

Oh, how he longed for the days back before the invasion. Back when this kind of information would have been shared over a secured video call, and between all members of the Council.

But alas, after an, incident, a few years back, video calls had been kept to a minimum. It was, after all much easier to hide and mask transmitted documents than it was to hide a continuous video call between ten different people.

Of course, that also meant it was much harder to remain up to date to. And with reports, intel, and intercepted communications having almost become a currency unto themselves, it was becoming increasingly expensive to maintain a half-decent information network.

Information after all, will forever be critical to surviving and winning the kinds of wars he finds himself on the front line of each day. And the more information he has, the better chance his solders have of returning home at the end of the day.

The contents of today's batch of reports however, are an exception.

Today's messages and information were so horrible, so mind numbing, that even the Commander himself was attempting to put off the task of reading through them as long as possible.

Logistical reports.

Just the name is enough to send shivers down the spines of even the most hardened officers.

The mountains of numbers and statistics that would need to be reviewed. The rivers of requests that must be answered.

It truly was an hour of woe for the Commander.

However, amidst the mind numbing levels of reading there did lay a glimmer of hope. A small ray of sunshine that shone brightly through the numbers and columns of words, and sought to sooth the headache that was already beginning to form.

The more paperwork there was, the more ground that was being gained. The more ground that was gained, the more missions that were being launched. And the more missions they launched, the more support the movement would gain.

The more work, the higher the chances of success.

Or at least that was what he told himself every time he sat down to read.

In reality, he knew just how utterly fucked the world really was. No matter how many rose tinted lenses he tried to hide behind, there was simply no hiding from the truth.

And the truth was this: The aliens could wipe out everyone on the entire planet in just under a month if they didn't care about casualty numbers.

That was the truth that every commander in the resistance was entrusted with. The knowledge that it was only because of the sudden switch to subjugation tactics by the enemy forces in the recent years, aka capture instead of kill directives, that the resistance was making any progress whatsoever.

And make no mistake either. They were just that. The Resistance.

Not the army. Not the glorious military, and defiantly not the defenders of humanity.

Just the Resistance. The last line of defence against a foe that no one could have predicted would arise.

Sure, they were all very well equipped and outfitted for a resistance, but that didn't change what they were.

How long this would keep up though, no one knew. The aliens could grow tired of the thorn in their side at any moment, and simply glass the entire planet.

But despite this they would fight till the bitter end none the less.

After all, if the strong don't fight, then who will?

So with that cheery thought on his mind, and a stark sigh on his lips, the single most influential man in the world, settled himself in for a long morning of reading.

It was a good thing he had an entire pot of coffee on the warmer, and a few small sweets secreted away in his safe, least his subordinates feel the wrath of his soon to be irked and annoyed mind.

With a deep sigh, he began his day.

First order of business was, of course, the priority messages. Which if all had went according to plan, would hopefully be more good news.

The message however, was not the one he had expected.

It was instead, the debriefing for a retaliation mission. Launched by the Eastern Mexico branch, against a massive alien assault force, that had been spotted entering the earth's atmosphere only a day prior.

The alien's it seems, had somehow found the location of the main headquarters for the Brazil Resistance force. And before the Mexican reinforcements could arrive, had completely obliterated the entire base and its surrounding facilities.

Over two hundred friendly casualties were being reported from the main base attack alone. A mix of officers and scientists, along with just short of a hundred soldiers.

Almost all of the Brazilian command chain had been decimated. The surviving members were all being transported back to the Mexico branch for recovery and medical care, but it was far to late to reorganize.

The ramifications of this attack were very clear.

Brazil was the last line of defence for South America. And with their main command line now gone, most, if not all, of the smaller bases would either fall or disband. Resulting in all of South America falling under control of the invaders in just a few short weeks.

The first full continent to fall.

He knew it was bound to happen. Brazil had been on the defensive for quite some time now. Hell, it was amazing they had held out for as long as they did.

Still, it was a shame they were unable to make more of their final stand. But alas something must have happened to prevent that. Maybe some sort of cyber attack to prevent the wake up of all soldiers or something similar.

Either way though, there was no doubt in his mind that the alien forces would soon begin work on a large Forward Operations Base in that region. Just as soon as they finished clearing it out of resistance forces that is.

They already had several outposts set up on most of the continents already, just waiting to be linked up. So now all they needed now was a solid foothold from which to launch their ground assault from.

And a large, relatively safe F.O.B. would provide them just that.

A deep sigh could be heard escaping the Commander's lips as he leaned back to read the full report on the attack, and how it happened.

No doubt a small security lapse was to blame for the attack, but still, it payed to be prudent, and to review the data for ideas on how to better protect themselves in the future. Anything helped when trying to avoid detection.

The loss of South America, thankfully however, changed nothing. The resources had been mostly transferred out of the base, and the information and Intel they had gathered had been saved.

A small stroke of luck among the shit it would seem...

Knock Knock

"Enter."

"You wanted to see me Commander?"

"Yes. Have a seat. Doctor...


Wednesday, August 15th, 2024

0800 Hours 24 Minutes 46 Seconds

It had been exactly twenty-three hours, fifteen minutes, and forty-six seconds since the Commander had left my room.

Additionally, it had also been fifteen hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-four seconds, since I had grown bored of counting those same seconds.

I know this because I had counted each and every second that had passed since then.

Though truth be told, I had been fed up with laying around in this bed, counting seconds, almost immediately upon waking up.

Sadly for me however, when you can't physically move any of your limbs, nor open your eyes for fear of going blind, there is not much else you can really do.

So in an effort to maintain some semblance of sanity, I continued counting the seconds it took before something more interesting happened.

Unaware, and utterly apathetic, to not only the other two other occupants of the room, but also to the fact that there was no actual clock, nor any other traditional means for me to accurately measure time to this degree, in the entirety of the room.

Not that I knew that at the time, or hell, even cared to try and figure it out.

Hell, I barely even noticed my two "therapists" as they went about their tasks.

At that moment both Camilla and her partner, who I now knew as Jordan, were finishing up their morning check-up, so it was unlikely that they would be sticking around much longer anyways. I mean, it's not like I was their only fucked up patient, after all.

Though I did, however, feel a slight twinge of regret seep through the mental haze that surrounded my mind, as I listened to both of them zip up their respective bags.

Regret for not talking to either of them as I should have. Or interacting with them at all for that matter.

Not that I could do much about it now. I mentally cursed as Camilla's soft footsteps made their way over to my bedside.

"Alright, Private, everything checks out as normal. No changes to report either, so it looks like you're well on your way to a full recovery."

You could practically hear the optimism oozing out of her voice as she spoke, though one would guess that comes with the territory of being a therapist. Power of positive thinking and all that jazz.

"That's good to hear." I nodded, making sure to not let any of the discomfort surrounding me escape into my voice. "Any idea on how long you think it will be before I can move again?"

I heard her sigh lightly before answering. "Honestly, due to the alien nature of MELD, it's tough to know for sure."

"Buuut?" I smirked raising an eye brow in her direction.

"But, I think you should be looking at around three to four weeks for full motor function," she relented "However I have to warn you, it may be months before you're considered to be fully recovered. Your nerve endings especially suffered a lot of damage, so you're going to have to be careful around severe temperatures when you're released from here."

My brows narrowed slightly at her projection. Four weeks was a long time to be stuck in this bed after all.

"Though it can't be helped I suppose," I nodded with a small sigh. "And I'm guessing it will take a toll on my physical condition as well?"

"Normally my answer would be yes. However in your case, the residual MELD in your system should prevent any significant muscle deterioration while you're recovering," she cheerfully stated. "It's also good to see you're keeping your priorities in order. I mean, who needs nerve endings when your muscles could be in danger?"

Her smug tone perfectly conveyed the smirk she no doubt wore.

A small smile emerged onto my face at her good-natured teasing.

"Nerves. Smerves," I chuckled. "After this procedure, I think I can live without them for a little while."

I regretted my choice of words the instant they left my mouth.

"Anyways. You guys should probably get to your next patient." I cheerfully stated, hoping to avoid an awkward silence. "Chop chop. You're on the clock, after all."

"Private..."

"I'm fine," I cut her off. "Now run along and help your other patients."

"Ok, I suppose you're right." she relented after a small pause. "If you do have any more questions pop up though, feel free to ask one of the nurses. Ok? They will be periodically checking up on you throughout the day. Jordan and I will be back tomorrow morning to check on your body's progress though, ok?"

"Can do, Doc." I replied brightly, keeping a small smile on my face. "See you both tomorrow then."

"See you then." She agreed.

After a moment of hesitation, I heard both of them move quickly towards to door, and with a small discrete sigh, they both left. Leaving me once more alone with my thoughts, and a large number of seconds to count.

Taking in a slow and deep breath, I let my mind wander its way into the past.

When I first got here, everything at XCOM had seemed too good to be true. And in the end, it was. Everything came at a cost, and sometimes you didn't even know the cost until too late.

This whole genetic modding procedure had seemed so amazing when the Commander first proposed it.

He had made it sound like a literal second chance at life again.

But now? Now it was just overwhelming.

From the voice, to the sheer amount of noise everything made, to the blinding light. Everything was just too much to handle.

And worst of all, I was truly alone when it came to dealing with it all. No amount of doctors or therapists were going to help this time.

I was thoroughly fucked.

Frustration welled up from deep within me as my mind wandered its way through the different ways I had been fucked over in this last little while.

Matt's dishonesty, Lock's lies, the Commander's manipulation, the tank's mind melting pain.

Each and every thought gnawed at my mental barriers. Eroding them away bit by bit, until I had no choice but to cave in and let it all boil over.

Anger, annoyance, hurt. I let it all flow out with a soft, pained whimper.

Oh how I would have loved to cry right then and there. To break down and let everything out amongst a torrent of tears, but once again the price I had paid for my new body came to collect.

My tear ducks had been sealed. Replaced instead with something called a nictitating membrane, which, while more practical for combat, also prevented me from crying.

Just one more thing that was added to the extremely long list of hidden modifications, and side effects that everyone seemed to have conveniently forgotten to tell me about.

Anger flowed through my mind as I ran through the list again and again. Cursing each name I happened across, and swearing some form of revenge on them for the suffering they caused.

Matt would be thrown into the tank for sure. The Commander deserved nothing less than being human target practice. And Lock? Well, she deserved a world of pain for her part in this scheme. But what to do... what delicious ironic punishment did she deserve...?

Despite my enhanced sense, I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even notice the door to my room open and close.

I nearly had a heart attack however, when a soft, but familiar, voice finally broke me out of my own mental prison.

"Easy there, Drew. Everything's ok." she reassured me; slowly making her way across the room to my bed. "Just breathe."

My brain ground instantly to a halt.

Despite the glaring gaps in my memory, I knew that voice like the back of my own hand.

Abby. Fucking. Lockdown. The Queen of deception herself.

"What. The fuck. Do you want?" I growled out, lacing my voice with as much malice as I could muster. "Come to gloat? Maybe try and fill my head with more lies? Or do you just enjoy seeing me like this?"

If she was at all impacted by my words, she didn't do anything to show it. Granted, it's pretty fucking easy to do that when you're facing a blind person.

"Well bitch? What is it? I haven't got all day."

Still no response. Fucking hell. Just what would it take to make her understand she was not welcome here?

Straining my ears, I listened intently for any change in breathing pattern. Anything to indicate irritation or anger.

What I heard however, was nothing.

She simply walked back to the door way, and flick a few switches, before returning to her place by the side of my bed.

Darkness immediately filled the room, and with it, came a strange sense of relief.

"That should be better. You can open your eyes now." She spoke calmly, grabbing what sounded like a chair on her way slowly back to my bed side.

Of all the things I was expecting her to say, that was not one of them.

Confusion instantly took root in my mind.

Just what was her game here... Every fibre of my being told me not to listen to her. Hell even my gut instincts told me not to trust her.

For god sake, she had lied to me, and even openly admitted to hiding things from me. So what, in the name off all that was holy, made her think I would ever consider, listening to her now?

Yet even as I questioned it, and despite all the warning signs, there lived a small bit of hope in me. A small part that yearned to see again, and was willing to take the dive, even if it was only met with failure.

Tone and word choice indicates genuine intention. Though impossible to guarantee without facial analysis. Likelihood of failure is less than ten percent.

Fine, I mentally sighed. If even my new resident was willing to take the plunge, then there really was no reason to delay.

Cautiously, and ever so slowly, I opened my eyes, one after the other.

"Whoa..." I breathed, slowly taking in my surroundings for the first time.

Despite the almost minuscule amounts of light that shone into the room, nearly everything could be seen in nearly crystal clear detail.

The contours of Locks face, the wood grain of the desk that Jordan sat at, hell, I could even have counted the number of threads in the shirt lock wore if I wanted to.

Whatever they did to my eyes, damn was it working wonders right now.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

Lock spoke evenly, betraying nothing but the small smile gracing her face, as she watched my obviously awestruck expression.

"Your eyes have, as you probably guessed, been quite heavily modified." She explained gently, pausing ever now and again to make sure I was following her.

"Firstly, your cornea, pupil, and iris have all be enlarged to the point where they are quite similar to those of an owls. The main reason behind this is to allow more light onto your retina, which has also been upgraded with more 'rod' cells. It's not night vision by any stretch, but as you can no doubt see for yourself, it is a big improvement from before."

"Also explains why light hurts so much." I muttered absentmindedly, still examining everything the small room had to offer.

"Precisely," she agreed glancing towards me again. "They also added another fovea, a nictitating membrane, and increased your ganglion cell count, making your eye's see and function very similar to that of a bird of prey. The trade-off though, is decreased peripheral vision. Specifically, from one hundred and twenty degrees to ninety degrees."

"I'm guessing that's why my other senses had to be improved a bit. To compensate for the new blind spots." I reasoned, frowning slightly when Lock only nodded in response. "Fascinating. Of course I would have loved to know what months ago, but still. Good to know."

A small flash of guilt seemed to flash across her face at my statement. Promoting no further repose from her other than to bow her head in what I can only assume was shame.

"So? What now?" I began, glaring silent daggers into her. "You just here to chat? Maybe finally reveal some of the shit you hid from me before in hopes of making things up to me? Cause I can tell you right now, nothing you say is going to make me forgive you."

Keeping her head bowed I listened carefully as she softly mumbled her reply.

"I didn't have much of a choice Drew. Orders are orders."

"Orders are orders?" I growled, reluctantly turning my head to look at her once more. "You really expect me to just up and forgive you, because the Commander made you do it? Jesus Christ Lock. You're not his fucking lap dog. I've seen you break protocol, with zero thought to the consequences before to. It's pretty fucking obvious you're not some rule zealot. So don't try to pretend you are one now."

"I'm not pretending." she sighed, rubbing the back of her head lightly. "I know it's hard to believe, but that's the truth. The Commander ordered a total information block on anything related to the less... savoy... parts of the Genetic modification procedure, and I complied with the order."

She paused. "Oh and for the record? I came here to apologize for what he made me do. Not to gloat or anything like that."

I blinked. "Come again?"

Sitting up squarely in her seat, she locked eyes with me.

"I want to apologize for what the Commander made me do, and if you let me, do everything in my power to try and make up for that mistake and breach of trust."

No change in tone. No sweat. No mental attack or manipulation of any kind. No real indication of falsehood. Facial profiling success rated as low. Chance of detecting lie, rated as low. Proceed with caution.

"Great." I muttered sarcastically. Rolling my eyes at her for good measure. "Apologize for which part? The part where you didn't tell me shit all? Or the part where you pretended to actually care about me?"

I felt a sick jolt of satisfaction at the hurt expression the briefly marred Locks face upon realization of my accusation.

"The first part." she replied numbly. "But do you really thing I was only pretending to care about you? Or are you just pissed off at me still?"

"Well obviously you were pretending." I barked back, instilling as much bite into my words as I could. "Why else would you have hidden everything from me? Oh and for the record? You're not forgiven. Not even close. Though maybe if you told me the truth for once..."

A feral grin crept its way onto my face as I spoke. There was something oh so satisfying about watching as the smallest of cracks began to appear in her facade.

"I. Wasn't. Pretending." She breathed, her tone dropping dangerously low. "I put everything I had into to training you. Into preparing you for what I knew was coming, but couldn't warn you about. The Commander didn't order me to do that. Hell, he didn't even know about it. And don't you dare forget that fact Private."

"Oh how generous of you." I seethed, matching her glare with equal intensity. "So I guess I should be thanking you then. I mean just think of where I would be right now without your amazing fucking training. I mean really, it has helped me so much, you don't even know."

"You may well have died without it!" She growled, standing up with enough force to knock the chair over. "You may not realize it, but you almost died several times during the procedure! It was only the fact you were in peak physical condition that kept you going! So yah! I may have kept things from you, but I also helped save your fucking life! The least you can do in exchange is not demean everything I did to try and help!"

The room lapsed into silence as we both digested each others words. Lock eventually picked her chair back up and sat down again, clasping her hands evenly under her chin as she no doubt worked through the entire conversation again and again in her mind.

I for one was very confused on what to do now.

A part of me was still very bitter and anger with her. It wanted me to lash out again at her again and again until her facade broke down and she lashed out at me.

However another part of me saw the deep, dark rings that sat under her eyes, alongside an expression of pure exhaustion that she didn't even bother to try and hide, and told me to cut her a bit of slack. This whole situation had obviously been eating away at her just as much as it had for me.

Things were all so jumbled up, that in the end there was really only one thing I wanted to know.

"You really want to fix this? I asked softly, fixating my stare on the wall in front of me. "Then answer me this. Why didn't you tell me?"

"And don't you dare fucking say you were ordered to," I added quickly. "We both know that's not the real reason."

I heard her sigh deeply in defeat. "Fine. But I swear if you tell this to anyone else, I will skin you alive."

"Dually noted," I replied evenly, "Though I reserve the right to revoke my promise if your answer is anything less than satisfying."

"Deal," she agreed, leaning back in her chair with her hands clasped behind her head. "The main reason I didn't tell you is because of what happened during your contract signing."

I raised a confused eye brow in her direction, nodding slightly for her to continue.

"What the Commander did in there, was underhanded, manipulative, and honestly pretty normal for a person like him. However, when I asked him about why did it, he said that he felt it was necessary to secure your joining of XCOM. He told me that you wouldn't have ever joined if we actually told you what was going to happen."

"You have absolutely no way of knowing that for sure." I responded almost instantly. "Sure, I know I can be a little flighty at times, but do you really think I would have given all this up so easily?"

"Look me in the eye and say that."

One could literally feel her gaze narrow in on me as she spoke, though that probably came from the fact she knew she had me on this one.

"Fine." I grumbled, conceding her point. "So I may not have joined as easily as I did. But that still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me."

"I was getting to that." she growled. Breathing out slowly in an attempt to no doubt reign her own temper in. "Now. With what the Commander said in mind, I came to realize that I couldn't tell you anything without risking the mission as a whole. Simply put, I was worried you would leave if I ever told you everything I knew."

...

"That's it?" I scoffed at her, disbelief plastered across my face. "You were worried I would leave. That's why you didn't tell me?"

"I was! Hell, I still am worried," she stood abruptly from her chair, clenching her fists in a desperate attempt to keep herself grounded. "Once you're healed up who knows what will happen! You could die on a mission! You could die in training! Or maybe you're just going to up and leave me all alone again! Just like the oth..."

Her sentence was almost instantly cut off as she seemed to realize just what she was saying.

The damage however was done. The pieces of the puzzle were all laid out and ready to be placed.

High levels of Stress indic...

Oh Shut Up! I've got this one. I mentally shouted. Grimacing as I turned my head to look at Lock directly.

"Alright. So the reason you didn't tell me, is because you were scared that I was going to leave..."

A small nod was her only response.

Now came the hard part.

"You lost someone very dear to you during this war. Didn't you."

Another nod, and with it, the pieces of the puzzle finally began to fall into place.

"You can't afford to lose another person who you're close to, can you."

One final tentative nod, and I had my answer.

A deep sigh escaped me as thought after thought flooded my mind.

What a mess this entire situation was turning out to be. From foe, to feeling sorry for her. What a day this was.

It all made so much more sense now though. The way she acted. The behaviours she hibernated. All of it.

It didn't excuse her from her actions, not by a long shot, but at the same time, I just couldn't hate her for her choice either. I knew deep down I would have done the same thing in her position. Just one more thing to add to the list in terms of things that made us similar I suppose.

"Alright," I nodded. "I believe you."

"But." I held up my hand quickly to prevent her from speaking. "But. I don't think I can forgive you. Not just yet anyways."

A small grimace crossed her face briefly before it was once more swallowed up by the mask of neutrality she wore almost constantly.

"That's fair," she agreed slowly, glancing in my direction for the briefest of moments. "I suppose I can't exactly expect you to just up and trust me again. Especially not after how long it took to get you to open up a bit the first time."

"No." I agreed. "Trust issues are a bitch as I'm sure you know. But you could potentially get a good start on things by answering a few questions for me."

"Questions?" Her eyebrows narrowing in my direction as she spoke. "You mean about the stuff I didn't tell you?"

"Among other things," I nodded. "I know a lot about what's happened to me from my recovery therapist, but I have a few more, ah, personal questions that need answering."

"Alright," she motioned, leaning back once more into her chair. "Can't say I'll know the answers to all of them, but fire away."

"Ok. Oh and don't bother trying to lie this time. I'll know if you are. Just tell me if you don't know or can't say."

"Will do."

"Ok. First Question then. Who am I?"

...

"You know if you're trying to fuck with me, there are much easier ways." She stated, clearly not impressed with what she obviously thought was an attempt at humour.

"I'm not joking," I muttered back. Glaring at the wall in obvious frustration. "I lost a lot of memories in the tank."

"Fucking hell. I forgot about that..." She grimaced slightly. "Fuck. Ok, well... I'll see if I can bring your file and your journal to you tomorrow. That should help fill in the gaps a little more than anything I can tell you."

"Tomorrow?" I raised an eye brow at her. "You really think I'll be able to move, let alone read, by tomorrow?"

"No." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "But I could just simply read it to you, if your arms are not reconnected yet that is."

"That could work..." I muttered, jogging my memory as best as I could for anything related to a journal. "Though I don't honestly really remember the journal you speak of too well. So I don't know how much help it's going to be."

"I think it will be," she nodded. "You seem to write in it a lot from what I've seen."

"Alright. Can't hurt to check it out I suppose." I nodded "Onto my second question then. Do you have a voice in your head?"

A small frown creased her lips for just a second. "You mean from the procedure?"

"Yah." I nodded. "One that tells you stuff and can fuck around with your body."

"No. Nothing like that," she answered leaning forwards in her chair. "But, that said, there are a few things that I can think of which do something similar to what you're describing. Problem is, they all have to be done by another person, and you should be immune to it now."

"Very descriptive." I rolled my eyes. "Care to dumb things down a little for me?"

"That depends?" Her eyes locked onto mine. "How much do you know about Psionics?"