01-03-2015, 10:35 AM
Michael's group of eight would have been nine had an individual not died the day before. At the alarm, Director Stephenson rushed off to meet the Ascendancy, Commander Vellas and Sigma Marcus. Had it not been for the emergency, and the need to rush off and collect the deceased vital organs in time, Torri would have been present as well. Instead, she'd been thankfully busy sawing apart the skull: her pathologist's skills thankfully improved from the last time.
Today, she couldn't avoid attendance. Having a non-member of the research team present was a momentous change for the Facility. On one hand she was grateful the subjects could move forward with some kind of return to normal life, but on the other, she was tense every single second like she was in battle again. Hopefully Michael would add an element of control to these otherwise wild men, but Torri knew what he himself was capable, and locked away in close, inescapable quarters with such a group terrified her.
On the other side of that window, the team in white lab coats did more than watch, herself included. To her left and right, a researcher monitored two of the subjects at once. Director Stephenson was behind yet another wall, watching them watching the subjects, or issuing orders as the need arose. They had never gathered more than one subject together at the same time before. The only other comparison that could be made was the data collected when the Ascendancy visited an individual, but he demanded all instrumentation be disabled while he was present. Therefore, witnessing the presence of more than two gathered ascendants at the same time was a new frontier for them. What extraordinary models would be collected today? The monitored brain functions, nervous systems, myographics, and biomarkers oscillated together on the window before her, overlapping with each individual from whom they were collected as he moved around the room.
A spike in one's heart rate flicked her eyes from Michael's sensors to the subject in the middle of the group. He stood up to the Commander, and Michael called his bluff. Torri's hands clenched unseen by her peers in the pockets of her lab coat. It was unwise to question Michael, and she feared what sort of demonstration he would elicit to make a point.
Minutes passed without observable event other than the fluctuation in the two men's biodata. Michael's remained largely stagnant, but the subject's flared like wildfire. He was all over the place, though to look at him, he was otherwise as calm as could be expected.
Michael deemed the trial success, but Torri did not fully relax. Michael stepped forward and-
-she gasped. He assaulted the man! Hurling him across the room! For what?!
"Absolutely not,"
Torri seethed, but nobody heard her. They were busy with the data collection, but Torri saw more than sacks of science. She saw men that she'd nursed through the worse moments of their lives, and a bully commander demanding an unnecessary trial by fire. She couldn't stand up to the Ascendancy, but she would say something to Michael. Besides, the subject was having trouble recovering. Unsteady and nauseous, the man vomited in the corner.
"Dammit,"
she murmured, again below the threshold of anyone's hearing. "Give me that,"
Torri swiveled the nearest monitor her direction. Julian's real-time MRI activity was already blushing with waves of traumatic injury.
Five minutes with her patients and Michael had given one a head injury. They were bitches to treat, all the more so for being totally unnecessary. She couldn't stand for it.
She shoved open the door, crossing the threshold between their two worlds. The slender figure in service uniform, with the jacket replaced with her official lab coat billowing behind, interrupted, and the hurricane parted to allow her access. Her hair was pulled in a tight bun, straining the otherwise taut line of her jaw. Behind, a doctor and nurse followed, attending to the patient. He needed immediate intervention to offset the damage done.
She went to Michael, and although not without fear, her approach was bold. Her words clipped harsher than she intended. Familiar faces trailed her. Some were adorned with pleasant surprise, others worry. Yet they all knew her as she knew them. "Commander, I did not keep these men alive for you to kill them on a whim."
Behind her, they were taking Julian away for treatment. Torri's heart was pounding, her palms sweating, but she had to stand up for them. Even if someday Michael killed her for it, she wagered today was not that day. She expected that would not always be the case.
Today, she couldn't avoid attendance. Having a non-member of the research team present was a momentous change for the Facility. On one hand she was grateful the subjects could move forward with some kind of return to normal life, but on the other, she was tense every single second like she was in battle again. Hopefully Michael would add an element of control to these otherwise wild men, but Torri knew what he himself was capable, and locked away in close, inescapable quarters with such a group terrified her.
On the other side of that window, the team in white lab coats did more than watch, herself included. To her left and right, a researcher monitored two of the subjects at once. Director Stephenson was behind yet another wall, watching them watching the subjects, or issuing orders as the need arose. They had never gathered more than one subject together at the same time before. The only other comparison that could be made was the data collected when the Ascendancy visited an individual, but he demanded all instrumentation be disabled while he was present. Therefore, witnessing the presence of more than two gathered ascendants at the same time was a new frontier for them. What extraordinary models would be collected today? The monitored brain functions, nervous systems, myographics, and biomarkers oscillated together on the window before her, overlapping with each individual from whom they were collected as he moved around the room.
A spike in one's heart rate flicked her eyes from Michael's sensors to the subject in the middle of the group. He stood up to the Commander, and Michael called his bluff. Torri's hands clenched unseen by her peers in the pockets of her lab coat. It was unwise to question Michael, and she feared what sort of demonstration he would elicit to make a point.
Minutes passed without observable event other than the fluctuation in the two men's biodata. Michael's remained largely stagnant, but the subject's flared like wildfire. He was all over the place, though to look at him, he was otherwise as calm as could be expected.
Michael deemed the trial success, but Torri did not fully relax. Michael stepped forward and-
-she gasped. He assaulted the man! Hurling him across the room! For what?!
"Absolutely not,"
Torri seethed, but nobody heard her. They were busy with the data collection, but Torri saw more than sacks of science. She saw men that she'd nursed through the worse moments of their lives, and a bully commander demanding an unnecessary trial by fire. She couldn't stand up to the Ascendancy, but she would say something to Michael. Besides, the subject was having trouble recovering. Unsteady and nauseous, the man vomited in the corner.
"Dammit,"
she murmured, again below the threshold of anyone's hearing. "Give me that,"
Torri swiveled the nearest monitor her direction. Julian's real-time MRI activity was already blushing with waves of traumatic injury.
Five minutes with her patients and Michael had given one a head injury. They were bitches to treat, all the more so for being totally unnecessary. She couldn't stand for it.
She shoved open the door, crossing the threshold between their two worlds. The slender figure in service uniform, with the jacket replaced with her official lab coat billowing behind, interrupted, and the hurricane parted to allow her access. Her hair was pulled in a tight bun, straining the otherwise taut line of her jaw. Behind, a doctor and nurse followed, attending to the patient. He needed immediate intervention to offset the damage done.
She went to Michael, and although not without fear, her approach was bold. Her words clipped harsher than she intended. Familiar faces trailed her. Some were adorned with pleasant surprise, others worry. Yet they all knew her as she knew them. "Commander, I did not keep these men alive for you to kill them on a whim."
Behind her, they were taking Julian away for treatment. Torri's heart was pounding, her palms sweating, but she had to stand up for them. Even if someday Michael killed her for it, she wagered today was not that day. She expected that would not always be the case.