Keel Under [Banished | 1st @Danish Nationals]

ERROR | N3URO

[I am not affiliated with NSG Lore, consider this a particular kind of reality or timeline]

A memo.

A fucking memo.

Vientiane’s eyes glazed over the soft blue sheen of the datapad. ”…due to overarching concerns of ecosystem health, we regret to inform you that your research has been banned. We at Jinteki of course pass on our deepest condolences and thank you for your years of tireless effort. Unfortunately such regulatory changes are outside of our control, and we must uphold the highest ethical and regulatory standard across all of our subsidiaries, including Issuaq Adaptics. Kindly consider our contractual cooperation terminated.”

Bastards. If they’d cared enough, if they’d had the necessary foresight and brilliance, they would’ve found a way. A million thoughts rushed through Vientiane’s head at once, yelling, demanding her to do something. It was a time of action. Oh, she was gonna do something alright. Her hands moved with the cold, disaffectionate efficiency of a sailor gutting the daily catch, with only a slight twitch betraying her exasperation and internal tumult. When they first granted her the research fund, she had made a few personal adjustments to the core facility operations. After all, you had to be prepared for all eventualities.

System Override. Biometrics approved. Please confirm by entering security code.

“Irkalla.” Ruler over death. It seemed appropriate given what was going to happen were she to ever trigger it.

Override confirmed.

“Cut air flow in all attached sectors. Lock all perimeter doors. No one gets in. No one gets out.”

Affirmative. Lock sequence engaged.

It wasn’t long until she heard the panicked screams of her former staff. Muffled noises as the oxygen was drawn from their sub-stations through the air vents. She didn’t care anymore. Someone had to pay. Someone needed their life drained from them. The federal governments. Jinteki. Whatever corrupt and inept committee had deigned her research unimportant, had failed to understand the importance of her mission. They were going to pay, in time. But right now she just had to destroy something to calm her nerves a little.

Vientiane was in control, of course. No rash action of violence would do in the long-term, that wasn’t her style. No, it wasn’t enough to merely defeat her opposition. Their spirits had to be crushed, meticulously torn asunder bit by bit until nothing remained but regret at ever having dared stand in her way. Their ignorance and arrogance was going to cost them dearly.

After all, what had Jinteki being paying for all this time? Another piece of their subservient slave caste, adapted to uninhabitable environments? Maybe that’s all her children were to them. But Vientiane always knew a day of reckoning would come - she had simply assumed, foolishly, perhaps, that she’d have more time. No matter. The project was ready. Things were in motion now.

From her panoramic office window, she watched the sun go down, slowly, inexorably, as if dragged down by an iron-wrought anchor beyond the horizon. The waves crashed violently into one another. There they were again, Weyland, vermin, polluting the world, not knowing its value nor its true importance. Today would be a special occasion, a first engagement to build an order of a new kind. A field test, she mused darkly. As she watched the rising tide of her children claw their way onto the transport freighter, an unholy feeling, not at all unpleasant enveloped her. It would be another long night in the lab.

Vox Zombius | Maribeth Solomon & Brent Barkman

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