Talk:Sith Empire/@comment-26529598-20151228170813

1: Nanscrub

2: SuperEpicness99

3: (If you really want to know...) When I woke up, the first thing that hit me was the smell. The odiferous combination of festering bodies and peeling paint only helped me to remember what was going on. I was Nanscrub, former leader of the VSG, before suffering a fatal injury and dying. But yet, somehow, I was still here. My head was still fuzzy after being in a coma for the last who knows how long. But I was alive, in a post-apocalyptic society where ravenous Ebola infected cannibals roamed the Earth, consuming all living before them. I should be dead, rotting like all the others around me. Others? I did a quick visual scan of the room to find, among me, dozens of badly mutilated corpses with a common stamp: Failed.

“Raise your right arm.” A voice, almost robotic, seemed to emanate from nowhere.

“Raise your right arm.” Same voice, but this time, with more force. Obediently, I attempted movement. Had I not knocked over a table filled with strange vials, the movement would have been almost too quick to register. And that’s when I realized that I’ve never been more alive.

“We will now run a series of tests to confirm the integrity of your new body.” The same robotic voice droned. New body? This was quickly becoming more and more confusing. Had it not been for the sudden HUD in my face I would have never even registered that I was being targeted. I watched, as a tiny red blip made its way across my field of view. Before I could react though, my hand shot up and took the object out of thin air. When I looked down, it was a bullet.

“Well the augmentations seem to be working well. Let's try running you at full power.” All these terms were scrambling my mind. Full power? Was I now somehow mechanized? Would that explain my new super quick reactions? Then another red blip appeared on my HUD. Then another, then another. Before I could even come to terms about what was happening, the approaching blips suddenly slowed to a point where I was able to comprehend their movement, target, and speed. Then, in amazement, I watched (or did) as blades shot out of my wrists and bisected the projectiles into harmless bits of lead.

“Interesting utilization of the wrist blades. Now, let's try something a little bit more painful, something a little harder. Let the bullets hit you.” Suddenly, a blip made its way across my viewfinder. I tried to react, but, as if held by some unknown force, my body was locked still. I could only watch helplessly as the projectile sped towards me... and lodged itself in my skin. The miniscule amount of blood flowing from the wound was staunched by what appeared to a mass of tiny black beads.

“Subdermal graphene body armor.” The voice explained, “Your new skin should be able to withstand small to medium caliber weapons, bladed instruments, or minor explosives with no permanent damage. I wouldn't recommend standing in front of a tank though, .50 cal and up will hurt. Multiple shots to the chest or head and you're just another corpse on the ground. And yes, it protects against bites.”

Then I understood. Nanotechnological neural bridged physical enhancements, tiny robots that made me stronger, faster, and better than before. The same technology that helped create a cure for the first Ebola outbreak was now keeping me alive.

<span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Nanobots” I uttered, unsure of whether my prediction was correct.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Affirmative. Your bone marrow is now equipped with genetically modified hemocytoblasts which make nanomachines equipped to enhance your body’s natural healing processes. They can also interlock and form rigid plates both underneath and above the skin allowing for extra protection against medium arms fire, as well as the ability for you to summon piercing weapons at will for use in battle. Your brain now has a direct neural link to your body, giving you the ability to negate certain electrical impulses at will. Artificial hemoglobin cells created out of diamond allow for nearly 95 percent oxygen utilization. Your skeletal muscles have also been enhanced, with the new erythrocytes being able to remove lactic acid almost instantly...” I cut him off there.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“So what does this mean for me?” I asked, basically knowing I was a sort of a superhuman with robotic blood. I had a nagging feeling that I knew what this all was, yet could not recall the info.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Interesting question. Appears that the knowledge transfer process was not one hundred percent effective. To clarify, near perfect utilization of oxygen in a human would allow for that individual to potential hold their breath for hours. However, with your augmentations, the limit is capped at thirty minutes due to your extremely fast metabolic rate. You now have the ability to run faster, jump higher, and survive longer than before. The voluntary blockage of electrochemical impulses gives you the ability to negate pain, hunger, and other basic feelings. I don't recommend switching it off for too long, or else you're going to pee your pants a lot more. You're bullet resistant, always armed, and basically a human weapon.” That left me with another question: Why?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Your body could not be saved. When I discovered you, the damage done by the bullet had irreparably damaged your vital organs. Your brain, was still salvageable. You were lucky in that your brain retained enough oxygen to still be read. I copied your data to many towers of hard drives. Then, I created a genetically identical version of you to harbor the mind. That is how you got here today.” That only left one final question to mind.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Who are you?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">A figure rose from the shadows. My blades instinctively deployed, and I braced myself for the reveal. “I, my friend, am your friend. I, am Rhythm Garg.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Rhythm?” I asked, shocked at how this foul excuse of a human being could still be alive, and yet, why he saved me. Moreover, how did he get here? A million questions were raised in my mind and tossed around like sandbags with no definitive answer.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Do not be alarmed Nanscrub, I am good.” Good? This pathetic devil was calling himself worthy of redemption? I was almost ready to shred him to pieces had the curiosity not taken over. In the end, all I could get out was a choked

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“How?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">Rhythm took a deep breath. “It was all part of my plan. Joining the Remnant, kidnapping your schoolmates and performing experiments, deserting the team, attempting to kill you all, and faking my death, all part of the plan. Yes, the grand master plan.” By now I was more confused than ever.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Plan? How does all this barbarity tie into this ‘plan’ of yours?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ah, hear me out. When the outbreak started, I received news of an experimental testing facility in Eastern Nepal codenamed LZR-1143. Can you guess what the letters mean?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Lazarus.” I instantly recognized that abbreviation.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes. The project was meant to revive dead soldiers using bio nanobots delivered intravenously soon after death. In theory, this technology would allow for potential revival of the highest ranked officers whom have fallen in battle. Unfortunately, those early tests did not go so well and the project was shut down. But me, along with some others, still had hope that there was still something to be salvaged from the wreckage, that something, anything was still there. But I had to reach the lab first.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Where does the Remnant play into this?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ah, those scum. Never mind them, I used them to my advantage, gaining money and enough influence to take me to the lab. By convincing everyone that I was a ruthless killer, I actually made it easier for me to perform these procedures in further secrecy. I then faked my death when your group attacked and subdued me back in Russia.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“But you were, shot, blown up, and then shot again!” I exclaimed, unable to cope with how Rhythm has lived through all that trauma.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes, but while I was in control of the Remnant, I ordered an experimental version of the subdermal body armor to be tested on me. However, the material used was far less advanced than yours, causing me to become reliant on immunosuppressant drugs. While the results were not very pleasant, also known as my face had an extreme rejection reaction towards the armor, and had to be replaced by a metal plate, it did supply me with enough protection to live to tell the tale. While everyone believed me for dead, I secretly made my way to the prophesied lab under the alias Assad, with a cover story of being a Syrian refugee escaping to China. When I finally made it to the lab, things were in severe disrepair. Dead bodies littered (and still do) the floor; rushed, unorganized yellowed papers were everywhere; and the constant threat of the infected was looming overhead. But surprisingly, a large part of the research was still intact, giving me the opportunity to improve the formulations. I toiled month after month until, finally, I had perfected the nanobots.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Where do I come in?” I asked, not wanting Rhythm to continue giving a completely accurate account of what happened.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Oh, you. Well one day, when I was outside preparing my garden, I spotted a convoy heading East. Intrigued, I decided to follow the cars to their destination. When the convoy stopped at an abandoned hotel, I almost wanted to scream in joy when the old group came out. But I couldn't blow my cover. I knew that this area was an area heavily controlled by the Cheng Ze.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“How did you know about the Cheng Ze?” Rhythm looked at me as if I was crazy.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Nanscrub, were you blind? Did you not read the signs, listen to the broadcasts, or notice the piles of dead bodies with the circle and the “Li” symbol engraved onto them? The Cheng Ze basically controlled all of Western China! Anyways, my troubles were only beginning. I saw Josh emerge from one of the vehicles, and knew that couldn't have been good. You see, after Josh and Alex were rescued from the mine, one of my subordinates ordered them to be brainwashed. After an intense session of mind manipulation, he sent them out as sleeper cells with one mission: Destroy the VSG. So naturally, I did what I do best, I improvised. I grabbed a shard of glass and used it to get the attention of an infected. I then proceeded to throw the shard so that it would land in the vicinity of Josh. Although I missed by a wide margin, it was just my luck that...”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Wait” I stammered, “You killed Josh?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Well it was either that or him killing all of you. I knew the VSG was not willing to sacrifice anyone, so when Josh would begin his killing spree, all of you wouldn't have had the guts to take his life. I, however, did. I was glad too, seeing my fears of reluctance confirmed when you went into a rage and all of the group could do was threats.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Alright alright, get to the part about me.” I was deeply intrigued about Rhythm’s survival story now, especially the part where I get revived.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ok, you. Well, after the first battle with the Cheng Ze, I intercepted a signal going to their HQ in Xiyang. They were sending in heavy reinforcements to take the valuable supplies you had on hand. Those gangsters you fought, they were simply scouts sent by the greater Cheng Ze army. You got lucky. By killing the scouts, the team eliminated the Cheng Ze’s ability to locate your whereabouts. Then, when I heard the news that you were in critical condition, I knew I had to do something. But at the same time, I could not blow my cover to save you. So I did the next best thing. While under the cover of night, I injected you with an experimental version of my nanobots. Their mission? To slow the heart and brain activity, and preserve your life. When the rest of the group left you for dead, I picked you up. However, due to the blood poisoning, your organs were irreparably scarred by the infection. I could not save your body...”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“But my mind, that was worth saving.” I said, remembering an old quote I had heard.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yes, you're mind. I had my nanobots encode your brain memories into their microprocessors. When I collected the data, I only kept the essentials. You see, the brain has copious amounts of data wiring for things such as peristalsis and other involuntary actions. This made it easier to make a copy of your mind; all I had to do was encode your knowledge and memories while discarding the rest. I then used your DNA to create a genetically modified virus that would replace the hosts DNA with yours. After injecting this virus into one of the Cheng Ze members who was left for dead by the main tribe, it began to rapidly replicate, causing the savage to basically turn inside out as his body began to metamorphosize. When the process was done, we had an exact copy of you, well at least, genetically. Then, I wiped the person’s previous memories by means of electrical stimulation to their hippocampus. The nanobots I has perfected would finally have a purpose. I used the last of my retroviral supply to reprogram your bone marrow so that it would automatically replace your previous blood with my new nanoparticle mixture.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.2;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">“And that's how I got here today.” <span style="font-size:13.333333333333332px;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(243,243,243);white-space:pre-wrap;">4: Flying Super-Warships and Fortress-Killers 5: Skyhawk SP3.6, and/or Entanglement 6: Sith do not believe in the number 6 7: If killing were an occupation I'd be a great sensation 8: Sithian navy officer Answers: 1: Put them into our guns, and launch their bodies at the enemy 2: (See comic below) 3: I flip a coin. If heads, I help a friend that could benefit the Sith navy. If tails, the Sith do not deal with the unlucky. So... Do I pass?