A young nanomage woke to the sound of whirring machines. She had never opened her eyes before. Created in a lab in Jobe, she was finally ready to come to life. The researchers ran a health scanner over her, taking a preliminary report. They smiled and nodded. All they had left to do was code her memories. She was asleep again in moments, courtesy of a tranquilizer to her throat.

Asome stalked through the bushes in Nascence. The silvertail daggers in her hands turned backwards, the blades running up along her forearms. The Crippler ahead of her squawked and danced about, unaware of its imminent death. Its wings flapped and its head rolled back. In the instant its head turned, Asome pounced. Like a cat from the shadows, one dagger was at its throat, preventing its scream. The other dagger slid into place between its wings, rendering it lifeless. She flipped the corpse over and pulled its organs out, bagging them and slipping them into her pack. In moments she was gone into the shadows again.

Her eyes fluttered open a second time. She turned her head to the left to watch the soliti working about her. She knew his face, Dr. Aaron Remar. She knew that she must never make eye contact with him, or she would be punished. She turned her head away, closing her eyes. Scattering of papers could be heard as a technician rushed over to her. "She's awake prematurely, Doctor! The memories aren't done being implanted!" A sharp pain was felt in her neck, and she slipped from consciousness.

She crouched behind a post in the Harbor. She looked at the time on her comm. Soon. The woman would appear soon. Asome took a deep breath and slid the daggers from their sheaths along her thighs. She peered down over the edge of the platform, staring at the walkway near the Harbor exit. In moments, the woman would appear through that door. It was night, and no one was around. Her employers had made sure of it. She looked to the sky and ran the flat side of the blade over her arm unconsciously. The whisk of the doors to the exit were heard and she leaped from the height over the woman's head.

Dr. Remar looked over her briefly before tapping a few notes into his datapad. "I think she's ready to be woken for good now. Her "past" will surface in time," he said with a sinister smile. He ran his hand over her forehead possessively, though, it could be seen as fatherly. "You will do well my little one. You will do me very well." He peeled her eye lid open a little, checking her dilation. He chuckled and turned away from her. His prize possession.

Asome moved through the crowded streets of Borealis deftly. Her eyes were on the ground, but aware of every movement around her. Too many men on the streets. She knew better than to look them in the eyes. She could watch them from a distance, but never close. Never see their eyes. She knew the pain would come then. She didn't know how he knew, or why, but if she looked into a man's eyes...the pain came. Finally, through the whompah to Jobe. She breathed in the air of Jobe deeply. Home. It felt good. She didn't like being planetside. An arm wrapped around her neck and drug her behind the whompahs. She knew not to scream. She had delivered this very same tactic to others. Calmly she reached for a dagger, unknown to her assailant. She split him from waist to throat before he knew what was happening.

Dr. Remar slid the scanner down over her body. Perfect condition. Even after an assassination attempt. He knew it would come though. It was inevitable. His enemies were afraid of her. As they should be. He smiled at the thought of their fears. Yes, she was the perfect assassin. And after a few more tests, he would clone her. He would be rich because of her. Who wouldn't want a personal assassin? Only the elite could have her, and only the men. She was coded to refuse an order from a woman. It was all subconscious. All part of the design. She thought everything was willing. He smiled again and patted her head before walking from the room.

Asome stood at the edge of the Plaza, leaning against a wall, watching the ships float by. The fire red tattoos emblazoned on her body left little covered. It didn't bother her. Not much did. Save for maybe the whispers. They were on the move. And a Skybar had exploded because of it. Or so the rumors said. Information often got twisted when passing hands. She turned just in time to see Dr. Remar approach. She stiffened instantly, her body straight and her head down, eyes focused on the pebbles just in front of her toes. "Oh Asome, my dear Asome..." His tone was fatherly, but disappointed. She knew what was coming. The screams could be heard all over the Plaza.

Dr. Remar stroked his hand over her jet black hair. She lay on the table before him, on her stomach and sound asleep. He traced a fading bruise with his finger and then to a gash, both caused by the punishment she had received in public. She would learn in time. He had thought his coding was perfect. Perhaps he could tweak it a bit. This...organization...or so they called themselves, could cost him his experiment. Could cost him billions of credits. He couldn't let that happen. She had to learn not to listen to the whispers on the streets, unless it directly pertained to her assignment. He traced over a particularly deep gash, touching the bone underneath the flesh. Every piece, every tissue, every fragment was his creation. He could not lose her.