Human Unnature

[Alexis Altunen]

Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.”​

-Edgar Degas​

​

Large Cerulean blue eyes blinked as the clone awoke into her brand new existence. Tentative muscles twitched and stretched. A large gulp of air almost choked her as her lungs adjusted to the influx of fresh oxygen. The first words that ran through her newly created brain?

It’s fething cold.

The clone lay inside her a long clear cylinder in the Adascorp laboratories on Atakan Adasca’s legacy ship. Her limbs felt numb, like she’d been deboned. She was groggy, but aware of a frew other things other than the temperature. One: her given name, which was Alexis. Two: She wore no clothing on her athletic body. Alexis had not been given the specific implant which made her ashamed of her nakedness, so beyond her relentess shivering, the lack of clothing did not bother her.

What the clone didn’t know was that while she was growing in her cylinder, one of her creators, Zola, had come into the lab in secret. With the help of Akatan’s mind controlled Assistant Cloner, the Hapan had fitted Alexis with some emotional and education implants. She was given obedience, curiosity, and cleverness, among a few other traits she hoped to surprise Akatan with. The clone was also given a knowledge of galactic history and culture, as well as thousands of languages. Furthermore, she would know who her creators were as well as the purpose of her existence. No, none of these were sanctioned by Akatan, but the Dark Jedi figured that if he didn’t agree with these additions, he could wipe her and start over. To Zola, Alexis simply a canvas that could be re-primed as many times as they wanted.

Alexis wanted to try standing, but her arms and legs were held with restraints. She heard footsteps somewhere in the distance, along with a slight bubbling sound. There was a strange chemical smell that she couldn’t get out of her nose. Above her were bright fluorescent lights that made her squint. One of them flickered in her periphery.

Someone should really fix that light.

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

The universe was stirring and in time, it would change. Republic overrun with madness, the Senate had taken to infringing on the rights of commerce, a thing Akatan had suspected would occur while Senator. However, capitalism would always reign supreme. But in the world where everything is changing, one thing would always remain. The Adasca family and their capacity to plan ahead of the common throes of a universe. The cloning facility, gutted from Arkania and stretching through the belly of the New Arkanian Legacy, was such example of nuanced intellect and strategy. Seize assets? They could try. If they could catch this ship in the middle of hyperspace.

Rolling the family crest over his ring finger, gold shimmer of blackened etchings, violet eyes lazily looked over the specimen. Not his normal decor, he was garbed in a suit of white resembling what a doctor might don, prior to surgery. She was moving, that was good. Ideally Arkanian, but with the particular beauty inherent in 4000 years of Hapan genetic tampering. With the flare of blue and hazel, careful hands pressed over the diagnostics. Brain health looked good, physical health looked good. As far as he could tell from this cursory glance, the specimen was perfect. But time erodes the ideals of perfection, or further strengthens them. He wondered which way it would go.

Reading across the datapad, he inhaled. Alexis. Common name for Specimen TF-9-AA. Height, five foot four. Physical age, twenty two. Stretching his neck from side to side, he handed his assistant the datapad. Reaching into a pocket, he opened the golden container and pulled a stimulant to his teeth. Gnashing, he eyed the woman as she laid restrained against the inner spine of the tube. Not for anything beyond investigation, an artist eyeing the fine lines he had created just moments ago. Approaching the cylinder, he smiled, pleased with himself for the work completed.

"It's cold, isn't it?"

Raised bumps across flesh, proper reaction for the decreased temperature. Meant to slow metabolism to prevent overuse of resource, unneeded while in cryogenics. Her skin was fair and responding as it should.

"Tell me, TF-9-AA..." He narrowed his eyes to the clone. "What do you want?" He enjoyed toying with these blank clones, eyes looking back in confusion before he had waded through the proper imprints for personality. Before giving them their sense of self.

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

The clone in the cylinder knew nothing about what was presently going on in the Republic or the One Sith or the Galactic Alliance. She knew galactic history, but current events? They were a complete haze. Perhaps she could watch the Holonews and catch up on...

Alexis jumped when she heard his inhalation. Someone was here. A crackling sound came, then a chewing and swallowing. Soon, the figure made himself known. It was the Creator. Or one of them anyway.

"It's cold, isn't it?" he asked, vibrant purple eyes reflecting her own face under the bright lights of the lab.

She shook her head in an affirmative gesture, staring up at him, transfixed. Then, he asked her what she wanted, calling her by a number. She was so confused. She was Alexis. He knew her name, didn't he? Either way, the answer was as simple as breathing.

"I want to serve you, my Creator," she responded without pause. It was what she was made for.

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

"You want...to serve?" He said, incredulous yet slightly amused, a raise of his eyebrows as he felt the crest of his family on his ring finger. Exhaling, she had called him creator, a thing she shouldn't have known. Even if he could accept the unlikely chance that this being, brought to life just moments ago, had realized that he was in fact the painter with brush in hand, the way she looked at him, he was unsure. Suspicion formed in a furrowed brow. He blinked steadily, taken aback without showing it, a confidence in his position as creator judging his creation poured through.

He looked over her stats once more, scratching the back of his head as he paced. He was trying to discern anything that might have occurred, tampering and the like. But there was no one on the ship that would cross him. Eyes darted up from the datapad to the woman, shivering against her restraints. Pressing a mechanism, the tube lifted upwards and vertical. Another button and the cylinder opened, restraints following quickly as gravity would take over. The tile floor would catch her and he would gauge her physical response to the stimuli, waiting for her to compose herself before stepping forward.

"Creator...Who am I, TF-9-AA? More than just creator, what is my name? Who am I?" He said, devoid of any irritation. The fact of the matter was that she was his to do with as he pleased, whether delivery entailed arrival for Zola or not. But for now, because he had created her, he was inherently within her, and thus couldn't be mad. She was, after all, a prized possession. An expert hand delivered her molding, DNA spliced from Hapan into a properly vetted Arkanian candidate. Numerous resources were poured into this clone, now standing naked on cold floor. His violet eyes dived into pools of hazel, resting beneath bangs of azure."Tell me the first thoughts that come to mind when you look upon me."

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

Why did the Creator seem so confused? Was he not happy with his creation? Alexis searched her databank. Uh, brain. Yes, that was the word. But she couldn't quite discern the emotion behind his purple irises. There was a buzzing sound and suddenly...movement. Her cylinder was lifted upright and the world swam for a moment as her equilibrium adjusted. With a click, her arms and legs were released, and her body was tipping forward. She stumbled out on her hands and knees onto the tile floor, a cry escaping her lips. Well, gravity worked anyway. With a long inhalation Alexis rose to her feet, facing the Creator.

The clone stared at him with a look of curiosity, eyes like bright crystals, vibrating with new life. Her blue hair was coiled neatly around her shoulders, smooth skin marred only by goose bumps. Questions came, ones she knew she would be wise to answer.

"Your name is Akatan Adasca," Alexis answered her golden-haired architect without missing a beat. "You are the CEO of Adascorp, a former Republic senator, and a cloner."

The second question elicited a blink, imprint delivering the proper response to her neutral pathways.

"When I look upon you, I see... she paused, like a computer downloading a program for the first time, the clone took a few extra seconds to load her new vocabulary. A smile came.

"My Master."

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

Faded eyes of wisteria watched quietly as she struggled to stand, gaze lingering over the form. A butcher looking over a particular cut of meat, he flared his nostrils to her response. He was keen to not show his suspicion or irritation, the fault not lying in the canvas but in the one who spilled the water upon paint. Though as he recalled certain pieces of work hanging within the Legacy, mistakes could often make the finest examples of exquisite taste. And with the marriage of science to such a form of artistry, he couldn’t deny the value of an accident that might lead to scientific gains. And seeing as how he was incapable of making mistakes, it was simply under the purview of another. Who that other was, that was for him to discern.

“Your master. Yes.” He nodded with a pleased and thoughtful smirk as he circled her. He enjoyed being provided such title, such deserved respect. Master, Lord, Dragon. A hand pressed against the untouched flesh of her back, the muscles having formed particularly well, to gauge her reaction to surprise. “You know a good deal, don’t you?”

Eyes dropped to her constructed form, molded from the delicate hands of a Master. It was fortunate she seemed to harbor very little shame, with whatever imprint that managed to find its way into her head. Otherwise, she might feel the cold burn of his view upon her flesh. As he finished his circle, checking for any deformities, he exhaled and smiled with a furrowed brow. Standing before her, he reached across her chest, moving her blue hair from her neck, placing two fingers across her carotid artery. “Strong pulse...Good.” He looked down to her xiphoid process, goosebumps still evident with the healthy and unabated lift of her chest, evident towards proper cardiac health. “Skin is responding well to stimuli. Your balance and coordination seems a bit slow, but that’s part of the vertigo of using muscles you’ve never used before. It should develop relatively quickly with time.”

He stopped dissecting her for the moment,crossing his arms with a fixed view of carob and chocolate. If she had imprints already, as he was coming to believe, he’d like to know how far it went. And whether her words came freely, her eyes would tell more than he needed “Feelings. Standing here now, before your Master, how do you feel? Take a moment to truly appreciate the depth of your answer.”

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

A crooked grin crossed his lips. The Creator was pleased, and that in turn, made the clone feel...content. Yes, that was the feeling. Alexis let out the barest of gasps when Akatan lay a hand on back. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just an unexpected one. The clone regarded the man nonchalantly while he poked and prodded her flesh as if she were a slab of temper foam. She didn’t find it a violation. It was natural that the Creator would want to inspect his creation.

“You know a great deal, don’t you?” he asked, maintaining his handsome smirk. Was it a trick question? The galaxy was full of infinite knowledge, and she only possessed a tiny mote of it. There was a very desperate yearning to know more.

“No, I don’t,” the clone answered plainly, an almost child-like innocence present. Zola hadn’t given her sarcasm or dry wit. Not yet anyway. “I’d like to know much, much more, Master.” Akatan gave her a clean bill of good health, then crossing his arms over his chest, asked her how she felt. Alexis’ wide hazel eyes blinked as she fished out her most honest answers. Full lips parted in a toothy smile.

“I feel... strange, but glad that you seem pleased with me. I feel comforted that you’re near. I also feel frustrated. I want to know everything. I want to fill in the gaps. Maybe you can help me with that?"

Alexis bit her lip, studying him anxiously. If the Creator were displeased with her answer, that would be very bad, wouldn’t it?

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

“Humble and beautiful…seems I’ve done a good job, haven’t I?” Was that facetious, recognition of the tampering that had occurred and entirely out of his hands? Well, physically, she was the doll that he had manufactured. He couldn’t deny that even for his own creation, he admired the outcome. As much as a painter might look upon his work in the twilight hours, Akatan now measured the worth of his prowess in the cloning field and found it exemplary - a production blossoming out from the perfection of her figure and expression. As he had commanded it, the cloning machine delivered. To clone with such results, he approached the capabilities of godhood.

“I am pleased with you, TF-9-AA. You are the pinnacle of my work, another great accomplishment to rival all the others…” He patted himself on the back mentally, without thought towards how Alexis might feel. The truth of the matter is that he didn’t consider her the same as other sentients, not quite yet. He didn’t fully understand the depth of her imprints or what impact she might have, a secondary citizen until otherwise denoted. But one that stood above all others.

“The gaps in your knowledge?” He raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward, producing a flashlight from his pocket and clicking it on. Bearing his teeth, he tilted downward and clicked it on, flashing her eyes for responsiveness. An indication of mental health, he put the light away and grabbed one of her hand. Massaging the palm, he turned it over for and inspected the muscle growth on her arm. “You have developed quite well, physically. But it seems whoever imprinted you, they have missed things?” He questioned without giving her the chance to respond. “We will, of course, fix this issue. Ambition for knowledge, you will serve quite well I think.”

Flaring his nostrils with a sniff, he smirked and dropped her hand back to her side. “So, gaps in knowledge…” He paused. “What is, according to your memories, the current state of the Grand Republic?” Unless he could get the original imprints put in her, she would need a full brain download to discern what gaps needed filling. But a few rudimentary questions might help narrow his suspicions on who it might have been. Biasedness placed within the imprint, as it were.

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

Her smile was a bit wooden, but the semblance of a grin was as genuine as is was going to get in this part of her development. A quizzical expression came when he addressed her by her serial number again.

"Thank you, Master," the clone said, politely responding to the compliment, cocking her head to the side. "But do you not want to use my given name? Alexis?" It wasn't like she could remember where the name came from. It was just there, along with the other countless mysteries locked up in her shiny new brain.

A small pin of light was shone in both her eyes. Then he picked up her palm, massaging it lightly. Alexis stretched her fingers, enjoying the feeling of new blood flowing through her limbs. With an instinctive certainty that this was meant to happen, she let the Creator manhandle her however he needed to. Then he asked her about the state of the Galactic Republic.

Her history imprint stopped around the time right after the Battle of Ord Mirit between the One Sith and the Republic. Without hesitation, she answered him.

"The Galactic Republic is dying. They recently tried to invade the One Sith world of Ord Mirit, but were beaten back by the Sith and their Yuuzhan Vong armies. The Prime Minister is still Genevieve Lasedri and she just declared an emergency Black Flag Order to kill any Sith on sight. It's quite a surprising edict for a government that houses the Jedi Order. Should I keep going on, Creator?"

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

"Truth be told, I wasn't sure you knew the moniker...Alexis Altunen. Hence the AA, in you name." He scratched his chin. "Though I suppose if you knew mine, it would only make sense..." Dragging the cursory corner of his mouth back, a half cheshire smile, he strolled through the notions of her mind. Point in fact, her knowledge did have some gaps. Predominantly, it seemed out of date.

"The One Sith did repel the Republic, though it is interesting that you feel the republic is dying." He agreed, they were dying, but the facts weren't nearly as conclusive. "The Prime Minister is no longer the Prime Minister. She betrayed the free universe by seizing the properties of multiple companies, including Adascorp. She did so with Spaarti clones, nothing better than quick rising dough. Mindless puppets, not like you though." He paused, lifting his hand to her cheek, pushing a bit of hair from her eyes. She seemed entirely unmoved by things that would normally irritate people, he wondered if she would perceive it as helpful or perhaps even affectionate. Just how far did the imprint go?

"The Black Flag Order was an edict that one of your genetic suppliers very much disapproved of..." His hand drifted down her jaw, back to her carotid artery. Even from here, he could see the strength of the pulse. "Tell me, Alexis...what do you know of Jemmila Kyrgen?" Zola, Akatan was beginning to suspect the woman in this tampering. She had a flare for the rebellious and had a way of pressing all of Akatans buttons at once, leaving him somewhat confused on how to respond. Strike that, not confused, just temporarily indecisive. Even perfection takes time and even an Arkanian takes a moment for his thoughts and conclusions.

Zola was also likely the only person on the ship that would cross the former Senator. And she'd likely do it just to see what happened, looking forward to whatever outcome arose. Would she earn the nuzzle or the bite, the temper of a dragon given free reign in his own home. Even he wasn't sure how he would react, though he would never admit such faltering openly.

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

An expression of her surprise took over her pale features when Akatan spoke of the Prime Minister’s betrayal, the seizure of companies, and most intriguingly, the Spaarti clones. “How...when did this happen?” Had she been created that far in the future? The prospect was both exciting and horrifying. How much history had she missed while she was slowly growing in her cloning cylinder?

The Master’s hand rose to the clone’s cheek affectionately, and Alexis smiled less robotically this time. Akatan seemed to be showing a tender concern for his creation. The newly-born clone met his hand with hers, covering it gently. That was what you did, right?

“Jemmila Kyrgren,” repeated the azure-haired young woman. She knew a great deal about Jemmila Kyrgen. The information was quickly rattled off like a laundry list.

“You mean Zola? She grew up on Natinati with her adoptive parents and sister, a Cathar. She began her mastery of her Force powers with Darth Adekos on Coruscant, then joined the Techno Union as well as spent a year training with a Primeval Warlord. She’s the other Creator, with a more limited role than you,” Here, another smile. “Master.”

She might have even known things that Akatan himself did not. Her head turned, swiveling around to look past him.

"Where is Zola?"

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

He smiled as she spoke. In earnest, his initial reaction was to pull his hand back from her cheek as she held it. But she was his creation, why should he fear her touch? He shouldn't, he shouldn't fear anything. Prudence was key and in this circumstance, it didn't draw advantage in either act. So he remained anchored to her, tilting his head. "And you said you didn't know a great deal." She knew more than him about Zola. This Darth Adekos, this Primal Warlord. Akatan was relatively in the dark in regards to such things, though her storied past didn't surprise him. And it didn't surprise him to hear it spill from delicate lips. It merely gave body to his suspicions, flesh and blood.

"Zola is around, I'm sure..." He stated slowly, curious towards the concern. Was that the intent as well, to bind this clone to her creators? Leaning over, he clicked a cabinet button. The electronics pushed open the cabinet, more closely resembling a hidden closet, with clothes hanging from a metal rod. Moving away from Alexis, he thumbed through the clothing, until he decided. Looking back to her, he nodded towards her and smiled. "Pick out your clothes."

He crossed his arms, an assortment available. He was curious towards her choices, whether they would mimic the eccentricity of her other creator. There were additional tests that needed to be done, physically and mentally, but he was bored with this cloning facility and hungry. There was a particular restaurant he hadn't been to in a few weeks. He placed his hand of his stomach, yanking the white paper suit from his body to reveal his normal garb beneath. Tossing the paper to the floor, he snapped at an attendant and pointed to the trash. "Throw that away." No thanks. Technicians hadn't earned their place, they would be thanked when they deserved it. A properly trained technician wouldn't have let the suit hit the floor. Fiery eyes turned back to Alexis.

With a smile, he gestured towards the clothes. "Snap snap doll, we have things to do."

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

She let go of his hand reluctantly, savoring his warmth as she slowly adjusted to her strange, new universe. The clone’s stomach made a low rumbling sound. Hunger. Thirst. Basic biology began to kick in. It struck Alexis as odd but wonderful, that she instinctively knew what was happening to her. There was just so much more she wanted to know. As patience was part of one of her basic emotional imprint packages, she didn’t feel easily distressed by her ignorance. She trusted that the Creator would fill her in when he was ready.

A cabinet opened and a simple instruction came to pick out clothing. Alexis’ didn’t know why, but she was drawn to fur, feathers, and the richest fabrics. With a tentative glance to the Creator, the clone turned to the wardrobe and sifted through the clothing, picking out geometric-print wrap dress with a fur collar and high-heeled wedges she probably couldn’t walk in. No undergarments.

Akatan himself clearly did not share the clone’s unwavering patience, and he hurried her along. Although she’d never question him, something about his finicky demeanor intimidated her. Picking up the pace, she vowed to dress faster next time. Once dressed, she turned and gave him a questioning look, wondering if she picked the right clothing for wherever they were going. After shivering for a few minutes in the chill of the lab, the fabric felt sumptuous on her body.

"Where are we going, Master?"

[member="Akatan Adasca"]

 

[Akatan Adasca]

He didn't normally take clones out for food upon arrival. In fact, he often didn't take most people out for food. As most were beneath him, it was a simple fact of the matter. This one, she was beneath him as well. But she acknowledged it, an aspect of her imprinted personality that endeared her to him. If only for that specific temperament and patience, desire to please him. He enjoyed that and in certain lights, it reminded him of Zola. Certain aspects of her, anyway.

He turned his mauve gaze back to the woman, so naive and new. That new shuttle smell. Smiling, he nodded forward towards the lift. "Well, first we are going up the elevator." He clicked the ivory button, glazed and hoisted within a golden embroidered grip. "You probably know everything about food, don't you?" He said with a smile as he walked into the lift, motioning for her to follow. He pressed the single red button at the top and crossed his arms, looking over towards the glass that revealed the legacy beneath them. Moving like a rocket out of orbit, he tilted his neck, inspecting the woman and her clothing choice. Smirking, it was a confirmation of his suspicions. And he'd find a way to get Zola back for her meddling. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

"A blind person can know all there is to know about colors and that red and yellow make orange or that red and blue makes purple. But they will never see it." The door opened, a lavish restaurant befitting the Dragon, gold and red and white and intricate designs displayed the tastes of the man that had crafted this vehicle from his own mind and the blue prints of the past. A historical legacy, made metal and wood and artistically beautiful. Placing a hand against the small of her back, he led her in. "Come, we will fill the gaps with food."

A waiter, Arkanian with a platinum mustache greeted them, interrupting the moment. Iris eyes found him, narrowing.

"Uhhh..."
"Uhhh what?"
"Table for two?"
Akatan looked over to Alexis and then back at his own chest, lifting up to the man with a glare. "No."
"Uhhh...How many then?"
Akatan narrowed his view, bearing his teeth. Stepping forward, he snatched the menus out of the hosts hand and tilted his head. "Just two...you idiot."

He beckoned the woman to follow, to his particular table, reserved for him at all times. He anxiously waited for a knowledgeable staff member to apologize for such incompetence. In the stead, he pulled a chair out for Alexis to sit. He waved to it, impatience mixed with a heavy dose of charm.

[member="Alexis Altunen"]​

 

[Alexis Altunen]

As cloner and clone ascended through the legacy ship, Alexis’ eyes grew even wider. The windowed turbolift offered a dizzying view of the ship, and she gazed out of the pane of glasssteel as if she wanted to explore every bit of it. Her brain knew the names for everything, but somehow, all of her surroundings, the turbolift, the refreshers, the restaurant with its ornate carvings, seemed like alien artifacts. The platinum-haired Arkanians busying themselves throughout the bustling ship? They the aliens, especially the Creator, with his bright purple eyes and his strange, reptilian demeanor.

Her fingers anxiously caressed the fabric of her dress as they rode. Why was she so nervous? She didn’t rightly know. It was simply the newness of everything she guessed, although something about Akatan put her on edge as well. When the door hissed open, the sound gave her a start. She let out a surprised laugh and smiled at her master. At the mention of food, Alexis’ stomach returned a growl as he lead her through the entrance of the restaurant.

The exchange between Akatan and the waiter was odd. It was clear that the creator had quite a temper and was used to getting his way. As they took their seats, Alexis was given a flimisplast menu. She perused it with a noticeable intensity, scouring every word of it. Then, she carefully placed the menu down on the table.

“I don’t know what anything tastes like,” she said, almost distressed by the annoucement. “Could you order something you think I’d like, Master?”

[member="Akatan Adasca"]