A Mentor of Old

[Miranda Frost]

 “Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl”, the old woman would sigh, gazing over Miranda’s unconscious body. The strong woman had suffered many wounds at the hands of the tower’s defenses. The body before her was riddled with bullet wounds and the table the girl lay upon seeping with blood and oil. For all intents and purposes, she should be dead. Miranda’s lungs were punctured, her heart grazed and her intestines cut. Her scars had been reopened, her crimson life force flowing free to pool around the silhouette of her body. Despite this, her body steadily rose and fell with each breath. She would not die, not from this.

The doctor would tap her bony fingers at the slim data-pad upon her wrist, beckoning a couple of multi armed droids to roll into the room, taking their positions on either side of the body.  The good doctor’s hands would fall to the large, steel pair of wheels in which her seat was fixed upon. She’d roll back, making room for the droids to operate.  She’d turn and wheel herself to her desk, her thin fingers dancing over the holographic display of Miranda’s body. The doctor could see nearly everything. She could see her engagement at Death Mountain through the organs that had been displaced as a result to her impalement. She could see her involvement in the recent invasions by Nebula through the damage to her cybernetics. She could see the clumps of ash that had been collecting inside the crooks and crannies of the woman’s artificial legs. She saw nearly everything, but one thing was peculiar.

The doctor would frown, the imaging focusing on the gargantuan woman’s skull. She’d swipe a fingertip across the screen, narrowing in on the mind. Her eyes would narrow at the readings she received from the woman. Two non identical brain waves were being broadcast from the woman’s mind. One wave was reminiscent of a dying woman, the other representing a healthy woman.

“Interesting. Dissect”, she’d command, separating the two waves on her display. “Locate”, she’d murmer, her old hands elegantly gliding over the smooth display. She’d have the computer highlight the sources of those waves. One signature would be would be highlighted in red, the other blue.  What she god by the time the system loaded these settings was something completely different.

“Purple…” she’d whisper, glancing back at the woman laying across the table. There was not one single portion of her mind that did not produce one of the other. Two different waves from the same origin. “Impossible. Unless…”, She’d contemplate, before turning to the screen, her grey eyes following the patterns. A twisted idea formulated within her mind, one that would bring a shiver down her spine.

The doctor would reach down upon the control panel, her digits a blinding blur as they moved effortlessly over the controls. The mind was the one thing responsible for the halting of this woman’s recovery. Her body would heal correctly as is, but the mind, unfortunately, will not. Primes were quite a mystery. They held the power to create and destroy within their very being.
Anomalies occur every day. Unexplainable happenings would appear only to vanish as soon as they arrived. It was strange, but quite fascinating. Here upon her table was something she could sink her teeth in.

“Opportunity of a lifetime.”