Captain Hesperus
Harbinger of the End Times and Apostle of Ghan
@The Dark Wizard
---|Captain Jun Negumo|---
---|Grey/Black Ops Wetwork Operative|---
Jun looked at the appointment card dubiously. It had arrived via the inter-office mail aboard the Orbital Station and had asked him to attend a session with a doctor from the Genetic Research Organization. He didn't doubt it had something to do with his degenerative disease. He did wonder if it was some geneticist who'd read about his case and decided they wanted to take a peek at the 'Incredible Self-annihilating Man' before he became a historical medical footnote. It was a bitter realization for him when he recognized he had long ago stopped hoping for anything resembling a cure for what was slowly killing him.
He stood up from the piano stool he'd been sat on and picked up the card from the music stand it had been placed on in front of the sheet music for 'Moonlight Sonata'. With a sigh, he decided he would attend, after all. Even if this doctor had no answers, at least he would be able to give them some personal insight into the condition and maybe, someday, they might be able to help some other poor soul so afflicted. He dressed in his UEF uniform, the rank badges of an infantry captain prominent on the shoulder and collar. With a hairpiece set in place on his armored skull, he set out to the closest transport shuttle station for the short ride to the medical center.
Penned in with the normal citizens of the OP on the shuttle gave Jun time to reflect on his life. He might be young, but he had seen a lifetime's worth of combat, fighting the Tha'Kar across battlefields on Earth and the Moon, but yet his life was not full. He moved aside as the shuttle docked to allow a young mother and her toddling child room to dismount. The little boy lead the way, his small forthright steps slowing his mother down as she tried to usher him out the door onto the platform. But the youth was not allowing himself to be hurried and walked at his own pace. Jun and the mother exchanged a brief smile as he held the door open so they could disembark. Once they were safely on the platform, he withdrew his arm and the doors closed, allowing the shuttle to whisk him away again. He wondered what it would be like to have a child, to be married. Both options, he felt, were already out of his hands. His biological body was deteriorating so fast and so randomly he could not say what would die next and what was already too damaged to be of use.The majority of his vital life functions were fully bionic now, respiration, circulation, optics. There was not much left of Jun Negumo that was original, that had once sat in a school concert hall playing music with his friends. Much of him was cold, senseless metal and synthetic. And he hated it. From the artificial hair on his plastic scalp to the polymer pressure sensors in his metal fingertips.
The shuttle arrived at the medical center and he dismounted. The structure was built to resemble the frontage of a traditional hospital, white and clean and strangely inviting. He walked in and presented the card to the receptionist and she tapped on a console, before directing him to a waiting room. He followed the directions until he reached the waiting room. It was, as he expected, empty. No other patients awaiting this particular doctor, no other genetic anomalies were pencilled into their diary to be seen today. Jun would probably be their one and only appointment today after which they would close their office, go home and appreciate the life they lived that bit more.
---|Captain Jun Negumo|---
---|Grey/Black Ops Wetwork Operative|---
Jun looked at the appointment card dubiously. It had arrived via the inter-office mail aboard the Orbital Station and had asked him to attend a session with a doctor from the Genetic Research Organization. He didn't doubt it had something to do with his degenerative disease. He did wonder if it was some geneticist who'd read about his case and decided they wanted to take a peek at the 'Incredible Self-annihilating Man' before he became a historical medical footnote. It was a bitter realization for him when he recognized he had long ago stopped hoping for anything resembling a cure for what was slowly killing him.
He stood up from the piano stool he'd been sat on and picked up the card from the music stand it had been placed on in front of the sheet music for 'Moonlight Sonata'. With a sigh, he decided he would attend, after all. Even if this doctor had no answers, at least he would be able to give them some personal insight into the condition and maybe, someday, they might be able to help some other poor soul so afflicted. He dressed in his UEF uniform, the rank badges of an infantry captain prominent on the shoulder and collar. With a hairpiece set in place on his armored skull, he set out to the closest transport shuttle station for the short ride to the medical center.
Penned in with the normal citizens of the OP on the shuttle gave Jun time to reflect on his life. He might be young, but he had seen a lifetime's worth of combat, fighting the Tha'Kar across battlefields on Earth and the Moon, but yet his life was not full. He moved aside as the shuttle docked to allow a young mother and her toddling child room to dismount. The little boy lead the way, his small forthright steps slowing his mother down as she tried to usher him out the door onto the platform. But the youth was not allowing himself to be hurried and walked at his own pace. Jun and the mother exchanged a brief smile as he held the door open so they could disembark. Once they were safely on the platform, he withdrew his arm and the doors closed, allowing the shuttle to whisk him away again. He wondered what it would be like to have a child, to be married. Both options, he felt, were already out of his hands. His biological body was deteriorating so fast and so randomly he could not say what would die next and what was already too damaged to be of use.The majority of his vital life functions were fully bionic now, respiration, circulation, optics. There was not much left of Jun Negumo that was original, that had once sat in a school concert hall playing music with his friends. Much of him was cold, senseless metal and synthetic. And he hated it. From the artificial hair on his plastic scalp to the polymer pressure sensors in his metal fingertips.
The shuttle arrived at the medical center and he dismounted. The structure was built to resemble the frontage of a traditional hospital, white and clean and strangely inviting. He walked in and presented the card to the receptionist and she tapped on a console, before directing him to a waiting room. He followed the directions until he reached the waiting room. It was, as he expected, empty. No other patients awaiting this particular doctor, no other genetic anomalies were pencilled into their diary to be seen today. Jun would probably be their one and only appointment today after which they would close their office, go home and appreciate the life they lived that bit more.
