[Rejection rate too high. Ginia sucks in a breath and glances upward, hands tucking into the back pocket of her pants. Her skin crawls a bit at the memory and for a second she can't exhale.
How many girls were there? Twenty? Thirty? Sometimes you noticed an empty bunk but it was always filled the next night with another sick, scrawny, hair-shaved girl. Countless injections, countless days of pain, the stench of illness all around. And the classes continued, the training continued, life went on year after year.
She survived. #58T3K1, implants successful. Again and again. Maybe that's why she earned a name a few years later, the seventh among nine. She survived, isn't that lucky?
No, the lucky ones are definitely the ones who died.
She's seen soldiers bragging about their tech in bars. How many of them know their tech was tested on a handful of stolen children? How many would care? The ones that trained her didn't give a damn.
Funny how things stay the same even across worlds. Always people out there ready to exploit others. Always people out there ready to exploit children. Command. Hah. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Ginia rattles out an exhale, remembers how to breathe again, smiles and nods absently. It's only three seconds, but maybe it's too raw, maybe it's too telling. She'll let him come to his own conclusions.]
There's a function or two that's not working, but everything else seems working as intended.
[After all, the tech was built to last. Same can't be said about the human shells carrying it.]
cw: medical experimentation, child death, PTSD
How many girls were there? Twenty? Thirty? Sometimes you noticed an empty bunk but it was always filled the next night with another sick, scrawny, hair-shaved girl. Countless injections, countless days of pain, the stench of illness all around. And the classes continued, the training continued, life went on year after year.
She survived. #58T3K1, implants successful. Again and again. Maybe that's why she earned a name a few years later, the seventh among nine. She survived, isn't that lucky?
No, the lucky ones are definitely the ones who died.
She's seen soldiers bragging about their tech in bars. How many of them know their tech was tested on a handful of stolen children? How many would care? The ones that trained her didn't give a damn.
Funny how things stay the same even across worlds. Always people out there ready to exploit others. Always people out there ready to exploit children. Command. Hah. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Ginia rattles out an exhale, remembers how to breathe again, smiles and nods absently. It's only three seconds, but maybe it's too raw, maybe it's too telling. She'll let him come to his own conclusions.]
There's a function or two that's not working, but everything else seems working as intended.
[After all, the tech was built to last. Same can't be said about the human shells carrying it.]