--Emerging from the cloning station in rather unattractive attire, more confused after my briefing than ever before, struggling to recover the fleeting memories of a past that couldn't possibly have existed, judging by present circumstances, . . . . I resolved to . . . exist . . . here and now, and I prepared to reinvent myself.
Flashes of memory of a twittering, buzzing, chirping, warbling computer console in the cockpit of a shuttlecraft so far more advanced than anything I see around me now . . . they fade into the strangeness of lights that seem to come from INSIDE my eyes, placing names above people and places . . .
Soon, I was wandering through an area somewhat like a spoiled archaeological dig site, NO idea how I got here, much like the rest of the day . . . At least now I have clothing on . . . Suddenly I felt a heavy thump on my back and tumbled forward, knocked down by someone from behind .
--hadn't I been a Samurai?? Where was my sword? my instincts? my cunning? Where were my lightning reflexes? My body just dragged as I tried to get up and fight back, but then with a crackling feeling in my shoulder and chest, it all faded into darkness and I awoke in what must be the sick bay (That's what the funny lights said anyway -- Am I even sane?)
Fluttery, blurry conversations seemed to fuzz in and out of my consciousness (or was it my consciousness fading in and out?)
After some unknown period of time, someone told me I was okay and booted me unceremoniously out the door . . . all on my own . . . again . . . Thanks . . .
--Where WAS I headed? WHY can't I remember? Goverment center? Well . . . that's what it says, anyway. That's right. There it is. Thanks funny lights, I sure hope this is where I was going . . . NOT sane! Not, not, not!