[hider=Nine] [color=ffbf00] [h3]Nine[/h3] [list]Name: Jane Doe (0XU-45-ZQ39) "Nine" Species: Human (Burnt) Sex: Female Age: Estimated 25 Terran Role/Job: Custodian Appearance: This lady puts you in mind of a deep ocean. She has wide yellow eyes that are like two chunks of aged ivory. Her hair is white, trimmed in a simple pageboy style. She is very short and has an athletic build. Her skin is pale. She has thick eyebrows. While corporate office environments will dress them up as maids and butlers, malls and starships typically assign them dark gray coveralls with black steel-toe chukka boots, a simple cloth cap, and a pair of white gloves. [/list] [hider=headshot][center][img]https://imagizer.imageshack.com/v2/600x450q90/924/ZswNSE.jpg[/img][/center][/hider] [h3]Strengths and Weaknesses[/h3] [list] Skills: Besides basic custodial duties, she practices kata and plays chess in her head. She thinks she was once security, or something like that. Encrypted burst communications implant - restricted frequencies (not compatible with existing tech). Weaknesses: Burnts (short for freezer burnt) are semi-successful revivals of bodies frozen in the long-ago past that while alive, appear to be only barely conscious and of limited mental faculties from ice crystal damage, only capable of performing menial work. As robots are banned, they're generally assigned to government and corporate offices as custodians. Burnt-abuse, while illegal, still happens. Doesn't talk. (Mute?) Unexplained power dips (lights & displays flickering momentarily) and bursts of radio static around them. [/list] [h3]Background:[/h3] [hider=Major Incident Imari Manufacturing - recovered fragment] "...What we know is that Agent ██████ went to the Imari Manufacturing Complex to investigate some sort of discrepancy in Building 29. We got ██████'s distress alarm and dispatched a Rapid Response team to ██████'s location, only to discover she had been flash-frozen despite numerous safety protocols that should have prevented it from ever happening." "Industrial accident?" "Or something hurriedly set up to look like an industrial accident." "And the discrepancy?" "...We can't find it." "So it all died with ██████" "Not quite. The doc says that recovery is possible, thanks to the ████████████ process. Medtechs have already shipped ██████ up to Tartarus." "Excellent. How soon until ██████ is revived?" "It'll be weeks or even months. Even with ████████████ it's delicate work." "Do keep me apprised of your progress." [/hider] [hider=Communications Report DD-214A-2B-9A-FF-31-01-AA] "Jack, what's the meaning of these orders?" "Orders? What orders?" "About ██████! Got this order stating we're to suspend all treatment and place the body in stasis until further notice. We just got her thawed and began ████████████! It's not good for ██████ if we stop things midway." "What?! No order like that passed through my office! Where is ██████ now?" "They're about to put her in stasis. This didn't come from you?" "No! I think our network has been compromised, send me a hardcopy, understood?" "Underst...!" "What's going on?" "I don't know, the engines are firing, we're moving out of orbit...!" <<> [/hider] [hider=Secure Channel DD-214A] "Priority override - Authorization:█████-███-██████ I don't know if you'll receive this, but I'm hoping this will be in your buffer when you wake up. We don't know what's going on, but someone is trying to remove you from our records and have overridden the controls for Tartarus. I can't be sure you'll even remember your own name once you read this. Your mission is to secure the ship from all external threats. Good luck, ██████." [/hider] [hider=Van Baalen Salvage - Comms log] "This ship's been through the grinder, but their reactor's still putting out some decent power. We're going to make a killing salvaging this!" "Bram! Bram! Get down here, quick!" "What is it, baby brother?" "There's a woman down here!" "A woman? A dried up corpse?" "No! Alive, unconscious on the deck! She just fell out of a stasis pod! I think she needs help!" "**** me, are you kidding me? If there's a live person on this hunk of junk, we can't claim it as salvage!" "I think she needs medical help, right away Bram!" "Listen, we can't afford to lose this salvage, Gregor! Drag her ass down to one of those cryopods we found in the second hold and stuff her in. We'll claim we found the pod in some other wreck when we turn it in." "But...!" "Don't give me no butts! We need the money Eden'll give us for this." "But...!" "Gregor, it's either she gets stuffed in a cryopod, or it's out the airlock. I'll let you make that choice." [/hider] [hider=Revival]She was still sweating as they strapped her down on a table, almost like she'd just come out of a hot bath. Falling... "W.... this?" someone snapped. Masculine. A bit whiny. "Uh, Jane Doe," a different voice said. Soprano, harried. "All we have is a number, 0XU-45-ZQ39." "What? Not even a file for this one?" "What can I say, Doc, they couldn't find one." She subtly checked - her limbs and torso was bound. She could feel the hum of a motor for the platform she was lying on. For what? "Another lost file! Why do I only get the lost ones? Fine. Inject 5 milliliters of Adrenaline, bring her upright and let's wake them up. First the table moved, then there was the pinch of the needle. After a moment, she opened her eyes. "BWHAAAAA!" A figure in an Oni mask and a lab coat lurched forward, hands spread like claws. She stared back, unflinching. He took the mask off and leaned in, staring hard at her, then scowled. "Nothing! No response what so ever!" he said, turning to the woman working at a console behind him. "Another burnt! Get her off to the ward and find me another icicle with at least a spark!" Two male attendants she hadn't seen before stepped up beside her, undoing the straps, then picking her up and placing her on a gurney, quickly strapping her in. She could hear others approaching with another gurney, but they were already in a hallway. She could see the ceiling. Oh good. But at some point, they were going to unstrap her again, and then she could escape.... She frowned. Escape... to where? Where was she? Who was she? Was she this 'Jane Doe'? It didn't feel right. "Okay, boys," a new voice asked, sounding bored. "Who is this?" "No file," one of the attendants unbuckling her straps said. "Great, another one. What's the number, then?" he asked, impatiently. "0XU-45-ZQ39..." "Nine, perfect. Put her in that bottom bunk. Broom school for you tomorrow, deary. Let's hope you can learn to mop." [/hider][/color][/hider]