Black Water

*Audio feed begins*

I've just returned from the MedBay after updating my clone. Despite this body being disposable, I've kept it safe from deep-freezing in the void for several months now I'm proud to say. I insisted upon a full medical examination; I thought it best to make sure everything is working as intended.

*The faint sound of music can now be heard; the swing beat and meandering harmophone solos of Gallentean jazz provide a gentle background noise as Celia continues*

Well, I first told the doctor what I know that he should know; I'm an alcoholic and a booster abuser. At this, he looked understandably concerned, but once my physical exam was done he seemed quite surprised. Apparently, my fitness regime has compounded the worst physical effects of abuse and indeed I am still well above the average fitness for a twenty-five year old female capsuleer.

However, neural scans picked up something else that concerned him and confirmed what I had feared for a while; my memory's deteriorating. I've noticed it getting worse lately. I even forgot my gun - my fucking gun! - leaving the 'Hook last week. But I've never been too good with memories; never saw the point of holding onto them, most of my life experience being rather unpleasant. The only memories I willingly keep are those that have taught me something. Neccessity demands it.

Of course, the doctor attributed it all to the sustance abuse and recommended I go into rehab and seek psychiatric help... Hah!

*laughs contemptuously*

...But I know it's a little more than just that and I don't need a shrink to tell me. The drink, drugs and emotional isolation have been my first defence for years now.

*Celia's tone becomes more serious*

So what do I have to defend myself from? My life is good right now... isn't it? I have wealth, a position of respect, good companions... I've even learned to recognise my emotions and enjoy them for what they are... and yet there's still something holding me back. Something that goes much deeper than just a penchant for brandy and boosters. Something I need to address before I literally lose my mind.

*A long pause, broken only by the wailing harmophone on the jazz track*
I don't remember anything of my childhood. Nothing. It's like... a span of black water; impenetrable, cold, deep. My first memory I can recall is... the day I was signed into the RMS, I was... ten?

*a datapad chimes, sounding strangely in-keeping with the almost random notes of the music*
 Yeah, according to official records it was year ninety-six; I was indeed only ten. Nothing much on the records before that though, apart from my place of birth. Medical Facility Theta, North Reach Mining Outpost, Pator. Born to Matila and Habikuk Katan.

My parent's names. They have never been anything more; just names. I cannot remember them at all.

*Sighs*

Did they send me against my will to RMS? Is that what I've been trying so hard to block out? That kind of betrayal would explain a lot about how I've grown up, why I walled up my emotions for long, why I've never bothered to give them a second thought...

*The datapad chimes out again; the timing of the key-tones follows the music uncannily*
Hmm, that's interesting... Matila and Habikuk's files have been locked by CONCORD... I can't access them any further.

Bah, I need facts. I need my own memories rekindled for a start. And I'm going to need greater security access, or a hacker, if I want to find out more on these two.

*The background music fades out, to replaced by the familiar theme tune of an ACN bulletin. During the last headline of the bulletin, the volume is suddenly turned up.*


What the fuck?!


*Audio feed ends with an abrupt click*