Chapter One:

Beta Quadrant, Sector 187, Pyillos, Pyillos III, Unknown Location.

April 1, 7215

As darkness descended on Brandon the pain vanished, being replaced by nothingness. No sensations, no lights, no sounds. Just nothing. Brandon could not feel his body; not even to blink. He could not even say black surrounded him because that would mean there was at least color.

An eternity or maybe just an instant passed as Brandon had no concept of time When a Voice Boomed out of the nothing, Brandon might have jumped out of his skin if he could say for sure he had any.

“Earth Simulation Completed. Analyzing…

“Who is that? What is going on!?! Am I dead?” Brandon called out to the oddly mechanical voice.

“Analyzation complete: Grade A- received. Conclusion… subject S187-TR23-Nub6120-01-10-00147 PASSED.”

“What the hell does that mean? I passed? Passed what? Where is my team? IS this a prank?”

“Subject S187-TR23-Nub4129-01-10­00147 please choose a designation”

Brandon always thought of himself as a quick thinker. His life on the battle fields had proven to him that being able to make a sound decision on the spot could save the life of himself or his squad. So, when most people would have been confused or let the strangeness of the situation affect them Brandon instead made a choice and acted on it.

“My designation is Brandon McDew. Now tell me where the fuck I am!”

“Designation accepted. Brandon McDew, choose a body.”

Now this one gave him a seconds worth of pause. But an image of himself as he appeared before leaving the base two weeks ago came to mind. Suddenly he was there. In the nothingness Brandon stood naked as a newborn but not nearly as cute. A look of shock passed over the battle hardened face of the Ranger.

“What the fuck?”

“Confirm body specifications.”

“Do what? Confi…”

But he trailed off thinking rapidly. With a few thoughts his body shifted and altered slightly.

Brandon had always been a little shorter than he liked. Then what man didn’t want to add a little more for the ladies. But the biggest changes were cosmetic. Gone were all his scars. The slight curve where he had broken his nose in a bar fight was gone. The large gash where he had a pound of shrapnel removed from an IED explosion was similarly missing. There might of even been a little more hair growing on his head, filling in his flattop. Or, perhaps a little less elsewhere but he would never admit to it.

The voice repeated, “Confirm body specifications.”

Without hesitation now Brandon said, “Confirmed.

Brandon had enough time to consider is situation and decide that if this was Heaven then someone had not given him the entrance in the front doors. Hell was more likely, but why would they let him choose his body in hell? To then take it away? Or perhaps to break it and maim it piece by piece.

“Perhaps I should of kept the old one.”

Without warning the world around him changed. He was suddenly sitting in a stiff plastic chair in a white space . There was no walls, floor, or ceiling to give any definition to his surroundings. Around him there were others also sitting in similar ugly puke green plastic chairs. They all faced the same direction. As He glanced around more people were appearing rapidly.

There were men and women of every Ethnic group that Brandon had ever heard of. There were even some whom like him, had obviously discovered the ability to alter their appearances.

The guy next to him was dressed in the same Royal Purple and Silver Uniform everyone else was, but his hair was cut in a military buzz. A military buzz composed of electric blue hair. He also had more muscles than anyone not living in a gym and on some hardcore steroids could ever acquire. The man turned and met Brandon’s eye. The man’s eyes were the same shade of blue as his hair.

In the few seconds that it took Brandon to look around the number of occupied chairs had increased from some twenty to hundreds. Someone called out, “What is all this rot?”

Brandon turned to find the speaker, but before he could the voice rang out again. The way the others jumped, or grew stiff in their chairs he knew they could hear it too.

“Welcome recruits to House Nubran. In 15 seconds a screen will appear in front of you and a personal advocate will help you choose your path to best serve and bring glory to the mighty Baronet Reginald Nubran and to the honor of House Nubran. This process will take roughly 15 minutes as we begin to grow your bodies.”

Brandon took in the statement quietly, knowing the value of gathering intel. One of the others in the room did not seem to like what they heard.

“Who the fuck is this Baronet what’sh’ma’call’it…”

The man had asked one of the many questions everyone was curious about. Although Brandon would of started with the growing of their bodies, but regardless he spun to look at the speaker who had started making choking noises midsentence. A few rows back and a couple more seats over a man suddenly stood up his face turning a nasty shade of red in an instant. A second after that his head exploded in a shower of bone, hair and grey matter.

The people around him flinched as gore flew toward them, but they need not bother. The little bit of brain the man had vanished midair a foot away from the corpse that had just fallen onto the floor and vanished as well.

The room was utterly silent. Brandon was familiar with this kind of silence it was the kind that preluded violence and panic. The voice evidently knew this too.

“Enough! You all are now and henceforth property of his lord Baronet Reginald Nubran and his house. If you are deemed troublesome you will be terminated without preamble.”

People shifted uncomfortably, for a few pregnant seconds in silence.

“Wait for it.” Brandon thought to himself.

Then as if on que a couple dozen people across the white area stood, shouted, or in some other way responded with prejudice to the declaration. Not a second later more headless corpses began to fall to the floor. Brandon grimaced at the casual murder. He was not yet fully convinced this wasn’t some kind of screwed up dream, but if it wasn’t this Duke and his people seemed to not care about the group Brandon found himself in at all.

Before more people could commit acts that amounted to little more than suicide a foot and half wide by a foot high box appeared before each person in the room. Inside the box was an image of a brain suspended in a viscous grey-yellow liquid within a glass tube. Bubbles floated up from the bottom toward and then passed the brain. Machinery could be seen with tubes and cables connecting to the tube. At the top and bottom of which was more machinery with lights coming on, shutting off, or just blinking.

The voice spoke again, “You are all now looking at everything you currently are. The you sitting in the chair is a shared simulation projected into each of your brains. Your brains were created in a lab owned by House Nubran. You were then each projected into a simulation of the Earth in the years between 100 and 2200.”

The image zoomed out into a massive chamber full of tubes each with a brain occupant.

“The goal of the Earth simulation is to mature and teach each of you at an accelerated rate. This way a fully mature personality can be developed at the speed of 1 standard day per simulated Earth year.”

As Brandon watched in mixed confusion, horror, and somehow acceptance, the image began to zoom back in and then split into two. The one on the left was of Brandon’s brain, as a cart like machine with pinchers came up grabbed his tube carefully. Then removed it from the machinery connecting it. Once free it placed Brandon’s tube in a cart behind it with other tubes and brains.

The right image showed another identical looking brain in another tube.

“At the moment of death each person in the Earth simulation is evaluated and rated for usefulness to the House of Nubran. Those who have skills, talents, or abilities that are considered useful are sent into the whitespace. A cocktail of chemicals is then fed to the brain to slow its cerebral speeds, create a sense of calm and acceptance, and finally to prepare it for growth of a body.”

As the voice spoke the image on the right suddenly had one light after another turn red. When a set of 10 lights on both the top and bottom of the tube’s machinery were a solid red a blast of electricity was sent through the tube. The flash was bright and Brandon had to blink rapidly afterwards to clear the spots out of his eyes. The brain in the tube had been blasted apart and was quickly dissolving in the liquid. In a few seconds there wasn’t a trace of it.

“The simulations, whom are not found useful, have undesirable personalities, or committed crimes are recycled for nutrients and fed to the next batch.”

The right image slide out of view leaving only the left one as it followed the forklift like machine through a door and out of the massive chamber. The machine passed through a few more halls with branching connections. Other machines were everywhere as well. Some were like the forklift like one, with their own cart full of brain tubes. Others carried empty tubes in the opposite directions.

As Brandon Watched the machine entered into another huge room. This one had much larger sized tubes in it. These tubes were easily 8 feet tall and could hold a full grown human with room to spare. Indeed many of them did. Brandon’s eyes watched as they sped past tubes containing human bodies in various levels of creation. Some were little more than a skeletal system. Others had organs and muscles. Not one looked completed though.

“Congratulations! You have all been determined useful. As such in a few moments your personal advisor will begin the process of choosing your future in House Nubran. Although the Baronet gives you the privilege to choose how you desire to serve, sedition is not allowed. The Baronet in his glorious benevolence wishes you to have happy, healthy, and fulfilling lives. But, any refusal of orders, violenc e toward the royal family, or plot to overthrow the rightful reign of the House will result in your immediate deletion.”