When it came to Augmentation, there was a fairly long list of factors that could affect the entire process. From results to efficiency to complications, getting consistent results was pretty difficult.
The... 'best' results came from steady Augmentation procedures performed over the course of years on a subject throughout their adolescence. This produced, for survivors, the 'most stable' Augmentations; the type that was unlikely to change for another decade or two, providing a decent 'use time' of the subject. Unmentioned and rarely cared about was the fact that the vast majority of this particular type of subject did not have a well-adjusted psychology brought about from being in a safe, stable society. The kind of people who Augmented (pre-)teens did so for their own purposes, and the lifespan of the product wasn't much a consideration outside of how expensive it would be to make a replacement.
Far more common were adult Augments, who underwent either a single massive operation, or multiple large ones, to produce a useful subject. Cybernetics were of course a known and easy factor, but Augmentation was a step beyond that. Brain modification was a necessity, with entire neural masses being altered and changed. Even for those who came out of it stable, it usually produced at least a little bit of a personality alteration, if only from either the trauma of the process, or the fact that they would now be dealing with vastly more information and sensory input than an un-Augmented Human.
Of course, there was also the matter of which generation of Augmentations the subjects were going through. Generation One had been the scientific equivalent of fucking around and letting the subjects find out, but Generation Two had been an actual effort in creating battle-capable Augments. Generation Two was categorised by mostly neurological alterations, with a relative minimum of physical reinforcement. ACs back in the day weren't exactly as physically demanding on the pilot, after all. Generation Three had been born alongside what amounted to the modern AC, with that focus on sheer agility and manoeuvrability that turned an AC from a high-quality war machine into the deciding factor of the battlefield in the hands of a half-decent pilot.
And then we get to Generation Four. Gen Two had been just feeling things out. Gen Three had been narrowing the scope, focused. Generation Four was refinement; not just battle-capable, but battle-optimised. Get rid of everything you didn't need, and replace it with something that would make for a better pilot. Lace every nerve with Coral, augment every bone with carbo-titanium, shift every single muscle and ligament in the body until it could survive, thrive, under inertial forces that would have turned a normal person into a splatter of viscera.
Of course, that was the point where the effects of the Fires of Ibis really came into play. It had happened already at the beginning of Gen Three, but Coral supplies were dwindling greatly by Gen Four. It hadn't been exported from Rubicon since the Fires, and all other Coral in the galaxy was slowly being regulated into being very, very hard to access, which had a rather significant issue. Regardless of all of Coral's useful properties, there was a single factor that now made it undesirable; Cost.
And so, Augmentation pivoted on the spot.
Generation Five was a test generation; how to replace everything the Coral did with normal machinery? Yank the Coral out and put the nanofiber superconductor in. Add some computers, translation devices for the Human nervous system and the machines that Humanity built.
It might have been more expensive than the Coral Generations, but while the bean counters whined and moaned about it, the warhawks told them to shut up and deal with it. ACs and Augmented Humans had already proved themselves to be vastly, greatly more cost-efficient, if they were used in the right way. Core Theory had been laid out and tested rigorously; and Core Theory hadn't been disproven.
Generation Six came through with a focus on reclaiming the efficiency lost to the lack of Coral. Long experience and familiar technology made it a much more stable generation than any previous, in turn leaving the pilots more reliable and capable. Lifespan was the issue with this generation; Coral organisms could regenerate and heal from the damage caused from the stresses of piloting, but broken machinery didn't repair itself.
Generation Seven was currently underway and focusing on precisely that problem, but I didn't have that much data on Generation Seven. And, honestly, I didn't need it.
I am Coral.
In the interests of complete honesty, I'm not actually fond of the fact that they continued the whole 'Generation' thing beyond Generation Four. There was a long, long list of registered Augmented Humans floating around, to the point that most of those individuals had an alphanumeric identifier for themselves.
It was a simple code, really. The letter 'C', standing for Coral, followed by a number representing the Augment Generation they belonged to, a dash, and then another number for when they'd been registered.
For example; C1-899. Thumb Dolmayan, as it happened.
It's a great system, right up until you hit Gen Five. Suddenly, it was 'G', rather than 'C'. I didn't like it.
Was it petty? Yes. Did I care? No.
In turn, I was going to ignore... all of that, really. Gen Five and beyond were getting named something else, starting at one. Non-Coral One, or Normal One, whichever I settled with.
After all, I'm about to make a new generation of Coral Augmentations. A real number five.
Of course, I wasn't a sociopath, and I didn't have the limitless, teeming masses of population with which to conduct experiments on, unlike the vast majority of my predecessors. Even if I had had access to the latter, I certainly wouldn't have made use of it.
The people coming into my care were people that Dolmayan and Flatwell trusted. They were true believers in the RLF, freedom fighters out to protect their homes and their people. I did not want to waste their lives.
My Generation Five was going to focus on one thing; safety. Stability, survivability, even at the cost of the hyper-optimisation for combat that came about from Generation Four. I wanted to explore Symbiosis, and to do that, I needed actual people. Healthy people, happy people, people we could get along with.
Symbiosis isn't just existing in the same place. It's building a relationship, providing a mutual benefit to each other. If the Gen Five augments weren't as capable in combat as Gen Fours, then that was fine. Any degree of Augmentation would still leave them much more dangerous regardless, especially with the machines I was intending to build, here.
And if we achieved what we were setting out to do, then they'd be even more so.
Since this was just the first attempt, I'd requested a small group of people. Whoever could be spared from their efforts. A larger group would have simply split my attention needlessly.
There were enough people on Rubicon that I was able to get a narrow selection of traits among them, though. A relatively even gender split, none of them older than twenty five, physically healthy, people with compatible personalities, and a selection of certain genetic traits and markers that would cover a fairly wide spread of Human ethnicity so that I didn't have to worry about making the Augmentation Procedures too narrow on accident...
I was fairly confident I wouldn't, but hey. Take no chances.
"It's going to be strange to have other people around." Ezra mused.
"I think you'll get used to it pretty quickly." He hadn't been too bothered by either Dolmayan or Flatwell. Admittedly, neither were as consistent as this group would be... "But I suppose we'll see, won't we?"
"I will soon speak of a subject that cannot be allowed to become known." Dolmayan stated. "This, now, is your last chance to back out. Know that I will have no shame towards you, if you do. Much will be asked of you."
Silence greets his words. As he expected. The kind of people who were here wouldn't be intimidated by that.
"I will share with you all a secret." Dolmayan spoke, facing the twenty people gathered in front of him. "Coral is more than simply alive."
They were young, to his eyes. The eldest had been born on the day of the Fires, while the youngest was only a year away from seeing their second decade. Still, they had true heart, one and all, proven with actions and words and care. He, Seria, and Flatwell had carefully picked from among the Liberation Front, looking for people who represented the best of them and only needed an opportunity to show it.
"Where Rubicon's blessing gathers, a mind appears." Dolmayan stated. "It was one of these minds who inspired me to become more than I was; a foolish man chasing a simple high."
They had their heads bowed in a needless display of respect, yet he could still see the emotion his words sparked within them. It was written in the way they held themselves, the shifting of their bodies, how their shoulders tensed and their eyes gleamed.
"She appeared after the Fires. Her name is Seria." A smile briefly threatened to cross his face, but he continued onwards. "I hold her in the highest regard. Make no mistake when I say this; I would be nothing but a craven fool without her."
A few looked up, meeting his gaze. Dolmayan only nodded.
"Before the Fires, however, there was only a single mind. One true Rubiconian, from which all Coral Minds now descend. When a man set the flame and burned the Coral, this mind was gravely injured." Dolmayan looked upwards, briefly. "But they were not killed. Only cast into a long, recovering sleep." He turned his gaze back to them, noting that most of them were now looking straight at him. "Their name is Drich, and by a blessing, they hold no grudge against us. Just under a year ago now, they came to us and offered their hand in friendship."
That raised the heads of the last of them.
"Drich is an old mind. They have lived on Rubicon, aware of themselves, since before Humanity ever arrived." A centuries old being. Maybe more, by Drich's own admission; Drich's capacity to keep track of time before the RRI had arrived was limited. "They have seen much, and know more. In the face of our plight, Drich has offered their help to us. What we intend is to forge a Symbiosis." He looks at them all, meeting their gazes one by one, taking, one last time, their measure. "You were chosen."
The words send a shockwave through the room, sudden sharp breaths and muscle twitches. Most of it wouldn't be noticeable to an ordinary man, but Dolmayan was not an ordinary man.
"Make no mistake." He says, after a moment. "You are not to be mere Coral Warriors. You will fight, but you will be more than that. To your hands will the future of Rubicon be given. It shall be shaped by you, and whether this Symbiosis succeeds or fails will be upon your own merits. What is being asked of you has grand consequences both ways."
Some would buckle. Some would bend. Some would be overwhelmed, and withdraw into themselves. Not everyone was, or could be, the front line, the tip of the spear that parted all before it so everything else could follow.
Not these people though. They had the strength of character for it. That's why they had been chosen.
None of them turn away.
Dolmayan smiles. "We shall leave when the Firestorm passes overhead. All who wish to join me, be there. Until then, if you have anything to say to anyone, do so now. You will not get the opportunity until much later."
He stands, and leaves the room. Only a few hours later, every single one of them joins him on a transport out, under the cover of a burning sky.
Dolmayan allows himself to think, then; of what might lay beyond it.