5 MAY YC114
Usagi yawns a bit as she slowly strolls through the main shopping center of the Roden Shipyards Factory station orbiting Iyen-Oursta III. Intaki space wasn’t normally where she chose to spend her time, but these days she was just happy to be out of jail (and even happier to find out that the long arm of the law is happy to accept buckets and buckets of ISK to get family members freed).
Besides, one of her favorite Gallente pop idols was playing a concert here tonight. Usagi thought it wasn’t bad to treat herself to a late birthday present and go indulge in one of her secret vices (a vice she knew she’d never hear the end of from her Stimulus corp mates or even Logan if they found out).
Speaking of Logan, Usagi’s mood was a bit tempered by the thought of him. While their relationship had started to get back on track, things were certainly not progressing as fast as they were before she left without telling him and got arrested.
That was to be expected, though, she realized. After all, immortal or not, some pod-pilots do still retain their feelings, and going around breaking hearts and being – in general – a terrible girlfriend has its consequences.
Usagi shook off the annoying thoughts as she headed towards a shoe store while sipping on some berry flavored drink that HAD to contain an illegal amount of sugar. There was plenty of time to deal with Logan and all the other things Usagi had fucked up over the past two years later. Right now there was a really cute pair of boots that had her eye.
“Pod woman,” a really filthy Intaki hissed in really heavily accented Caldari as he ran out and stopped in front of Usagi.
“What?” Usagi asked, being forced to take a step back due to the pungent odor irradiating off the man.
“Pod woman,” he repeated, glaring at her. “Give me money.”
“I’m not a-” Usagi started.
“I see plugs!” he said, pointing to his back. Usagi sighed, pulling down the back of her too short shirt that had a picture of the idol she was planning on seeing tonight emblazoned on the chest.
“Fuck off,” Usagi growled back at him in Intaki. She started to move around him, but he quickly side-stepped to remain in front of her. The Intaki pulled out a knife, one that was just as filthy as he was, and stuck it in her face.
“I told you to give me your money,” he demanded, now speaking in his native tongue.
“No.” Usagi replied, again moving to move around him. The Intaki moved with her, this time thrusting the blade at her. Usagi parried the thrust and tried to step backwards as her right hand went to the cargo pocket on her pants.
The robber kept swinging and jabbing at her, cutting her chest slightly.
“THAT HURT YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Usagi yelled as she finally got what she was going for. A small handgun. She drew it on the robber and fired at the same time he took another swing.
The robber dropped in a heap. Dead.
‘Fucking asshole’, Usagi said.
Usagi blinked. No words came out when she said that. She began to notice that she couldn’t breathe as well.
“Your neck!” one of several bystanders who had gathered after the gunshot called out. Usagi put her hand to her throat only to find it nearly instantly covered in blood.
‘What a lucky swipe’, Usagi’s mind chuckled. She looked to the concerned bystanders, police officers running her direction, and smiled, shrugging slightly. Rather than asphyxiate, it seemed like a quick, painless ‘death’ was warranted in this situation. Usagi placed the barrel of the gun to the side of her head, waved goodbye to the folks watching and pulled on the trigger.
‘Ah fuck, am I going to make it back here tonight in time for the concert?’ she asked herself before the round ripped through her skull, terminating her.
TXW-EI VIII – M8 – Aliastra Retail Center :: 17 Seconds Later
The pod tech on duty yawned. Oddly enough it’d been a slow day. A fair number of folks made this station home and all of them liked to fight.
It was likely why he was paid as well as he was. Sure, the station kept most of the cloning fees, but still. He was certainly paid better than some of his counterparts working in ‘calmer’ space.
“Clone activation in progress,” the computer informed him.
The tech smiled as he stood, grabbed the usual things a reanimated capsuleer will need. A towel to wipe off as much of the ‘pod goo’ as he or she could, a robe to wear till they could get to the shower, and a small snack and some water, since a new stomach is an empty stomach.
The bells and the whistles on the computers and various other contraptions rang and whistled till the ‘pod’ opened up; the ectoplasmic ‘afterbirth’ spilling out and through the grated floor. Out tumbled one 165cm tall red head, slamming into the grate. The tech cringed slightly; he never cared for the jarring nature of the reanimation sequence, but he also realized it couldn’t be any worse than how they died.
He moved to help Usagi to her feet. He grew a bit concerned when she made no attempt to stand.
“Miss…” he looked to the computer screen, “…Hiretsukann?”
Only the background noise of the station answered him.
The tech squatted down, wiped some of the goo off her neck and felt for a pulse.
“Well that shouldn’t be,” he observed. He checked the computer, seeing that it was rather insistent that it did everything right. He sighed, drug the red-headed corpse to the other side of the room, and instructed the computer to rerun the cloning sequence.
And the results were the same.
Six Hours Later
“Did you figure out why she kept cloning dead?” the tech asked the pathologist as she walked into the cloning room.
The pathologist nodded. “I don’t know if it’s the machine, or because she did a soft-clone, or what, but there is a fairly sizeable chunk of her brain missing.”
“Oh,” the tech replied, aghast.
“Can you clone her from a previous copy?”
“Before today, the last clone we did of her was nearly two years ago,” the tech explained. “I looked in to that and ignoring the fact that she’d lose almost two years of memories, there is the issue that old clone files tend to be slowly over-written because they are so big.”
The tech sighed wistfully. “Her last clone file is only 82 percent complied. No guarantee she’d have a brain at all.”
The pathologist pondered this. “What about jump clones?”
“All in the State and they refuse to release them to me due to her legal status there,” he explained. “In fact I got a message from someone within the Navy saying I might be eligible for a reward if I actually managed to kill her.”
The pathologist shook her head sadly. “I guess I will go notify her next-of-kin,” she said, walking off. As she walked, she called out to the tech, “So much for immortality, huh?”
The tech shrugged. “Immortality at the whim of technology.”