Confessions of an Imperial Lab Rat
After revealing that it was a prosthetic body and everyone was shocked, I dropped an even more stunning bombshell.
"I was experimented on by the enemy and ended up in this body. I was their test subject."
Of course, I didn't spill that I'd originally been male or that I was from the Empire's Imperial Guard. 'No way in hell am I admitting I was a guy.' It might sound weird, but Lean Primoor had his pride. 'What can you do when I'm just that exceptional?' Sure, for a mission or operation, I'd do anything—but 'this is different.' So I hid the truth.
Of course, I couldn't make up a complete lie. Lies breed more lies until they spiral out of control. What I needed was to conceal the key facts while crafting a plausible story. Weave truth into the deception just right. Technically, this lifestyle prosthetic body was the result of an experiment, whether by Favila or the Empire—so calling myself a test subject wasn't wrong.
I continued flatly. "I was actually an important figure in the Empire. But I fell into a trap and got stuck in this prosthetic body."
Important figure? True. Trap? True. Trapped in this body now? True.
"...A test subject? How could they..." Roena choked up, unable to finish.
Her worst fears had come true.
"So that's how it happened... Explains what you knew," Ian said evenly. He seemed more interested in my Imperial connections.
"What kind... of experiment was it?" Seriana Lawrence asked cautiously. Her eyes had softened from before, a flicker of pity in them.
I brushed off the look and pressed on. "It was about full-body prosthetic tech. I don't know the details—I was the victim. When I came to, I was in a scrap heap. Then I met you all."
Luca jumped in with his own question, trying to lighten the mood by shifting to something casual. "What'd you look like before?"
"...Similar. Bigger than this, though."
Blue eyes, gray hair—originally. Close enough. True enough. Yeah.
"To get back to my original body, I need to go to Orbis."
"Why not report straight to the Imperial military?"
'Fair question. I've got an excuse ready.'
"Probably some internal divisions in the Empire. Look at what happened to me."
Pure speculation, but 'no organization lacks factions. Even petty ones.'
I kept justifying as I went. "I'm not asking for pity or a free ride. Even in this body, I can fight plenty well. You saw that. So let's make a deal."
I locked eyes with Roena. She had an opening in her heart right now—I aimed for it.
"What do you say, Roena? I'll be useful. I learned a ton of Imperial tech. Infiltration, close combat—I've got real combat experience."
"Wait, so how old are you... exactly?" Luca asked carefully.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen... now."
"How old do I look?"
Luca had first pegged her around his age. But the story ruled that out, so he guessed high. "Twent... thirties?"
"Not that old. Twenty this year."
I lowballed it. No need to spook them like with Marco.
"Twenty... Sniff." Roena wiped tears from her eyes. "Alright... We'll take you to Orbis."
Ian would back it—better for business if the deal went through.
"If the captain says so... We just lost a guy anyway. I'm in."
Luca folded easily. But Seriana, who'd been listening quietly, pressed. "Skipping the big stuff? 'Important Imperial figure'? What exactly did you do?"
She wouldn't let the vagueness slide. Persistent, but within expectations.
"Know Lean Primoor?"
"Heard of him? Oh, the Imperial Guard guy who defected?" Luca pondered, then remembered.
"Before defecting, he was a big shot in the Guard. Anyone tied to the Empire knows him."
Ian—whose home planet was wiped out by Imperial designation as rebels—knew the ins and outs from personal digging.
I stated it boldly. "Lean Primoor is family. He got hit too. Just like me."
"Never heard he had family."
"Not publicly. But not everything's out there."
Ian's doubt got brushed off as "internal affairs." 'Even if he dug, he's just a frontier scavenger.' Looking at them, persuasion was only a matter of time. Soon Seriana nodded.
"Fine, up to Orbis. I'm in too, Leah."
'Nailed it. This pace, it'll be quick. At least two planets to cross. Nonstop, a month. Jobs will stretch it... unavoidable.'
"Leah nuna."
An unexpected word from an unexpected source stabbed Lean's pride.
"......Don't call me nuna, Luca."
'I'm not a nuna. Really not. Time to sort titles.'
"Huh? Then what?"
"Just use casual speech. Easier. And I'll do the same. Deal with it."
"Deal with what? Rude much?"
"Pretty casual already, huh, Luca."
"You told me to..."
Luca's snarky jab got a light warning, then I continued. "I was military. Speech and titles feel off otherwise. Not forcing a change. This body's not even my real self—cut me some slack."
I addressed them all. "Treat me like an adult from now on. No pity. I'm not a kid."
"Says the twenty-year-old."
"Luca... Ever thought of joining the military? Good pay."
"Appreciate it, Leah nuna."
"No nuna."
'Luca, you little punk with no blood in your head.'
He was lightening the heavy mood on purpose, but picking me as the target grated.
'Can't let that slide.'
I vowed inwardly to mess with him more and moved on. Luca's ploy worked—the mood I'd unintentionally soured lifted.
Roena clapped. "Right! If Leah's sticking with us, she's got a lot to learn and gear up. Once we're healed, shopping and a welcome party!"
"Two days till the next job?" Seriana asked. The others replied.
"Got good intel this time. Can push a day."
"Party on Kairen Island's in four days. Plenty of time."
"I'm for it. Got stuff to say anyway."
Ian's sealed the welcome party vibe. And so Leah stepped into a new adventure. No one knew it would last far longer than expected.
The city of Sakar. A pinnacle of civilization blooming amid barren plains. Core hub of Novar planet, where every pioneering corp gathered.
Skyscrapers pierced the heavens. Building facades blared ads nonstop. Pedestrians rushed past without a glance at each other, each lost in their grind. Street trees in aesthetic planters were the only relaxed touch.
From a room overlooking it all, in Sakar's city hall. A man gazed out the window. Military uniform: black with blue accents, crisp and intimidating. His left prosthetic hand looked normal but bare metal—no skin layer.
He set down his premium cigar, still facing away. "Beautiful place."
"Yes, an honor."
"Mayor."
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know why I'm here?"
"...Forgive me."
Sakar's mayor, graying sporadically. Top dog of the city, yet he couldn't lift his head. The man before him was Imperial military dispatch.
The military split three ways: Royal Guard, Imperial Defense Force, Imperial Pioneering Force. Blue markings meant Defense Force.
The soldier turned, eyeing the mayor. Red insignia on his chest, one gleaming star. Nameplate below: 'Stein'.
Erich von Stein, colonel. A rarity—still field-active at that rank. His mechanical eye scanned coldly. He swept the desk with his prosthetic, grabbing a miniature statue at the edge.
"Heard some unsavory news."
"That..."
"City hall corruption reached my ears. Get it now?"
The mayor's eyes shook nonstop. Novar was low-priority frontier, so he'd exploited it: petty embezzlement, bribes, meddling, corp collusion. Everything.
Mafia slithered in, partnering up, growing bold. Too late to rein them by then.
"I told you repeatedly: keep it moderate."
First meeting for the mayor, but no retort possible.
"..."
"Won't clean house immediately. Too messy."
The soldier clenched slightly. The statue's neck snapped, tumbling.
"I assume you understand, Mayor."
"...Yes. Thank you for the chance."
Voice shrinking, sweat pouring. Erich approached, straightening the mayor's rumpled suit, fixing his tie. Throat-tight pressure—he couldn't meet eyes.
Pat pat on the shoulder. "Hope we don't meet again."
"Y-yes... Safe travels."
He left silently, footsteps ghosting. Silence lingered long in the office. Outside bustle hummed, but too far for the high perch.
Even after he left, the mayor froze. His mind soared into space, terror-struck.
Finally regaining composure, urgent tasks loomed. He called his aide for the police chief.
The chief arrived promptly at the top man's summons.
"Listen, Marcus. Sakar Police Chief."
"Yes, Mayor."
"Round up the mafia now. Got it?"
No civil servant shunned mafia cash and perks. Marcus included.
"...Backlash will be fierce."
"Backlash! Hoo. Know who just left?"
"..."
"Empire military sniffed it out! Cut ties now or we're done!"
Grasping the gravity, Marcus replied. Mafia sweets paled to survival. Corrupt officials lack loyalty.
"On it immediately."
"Good. Time's ticking. Their party's coming, right?"
"Yes, on Kairen Island..."
"Perfect. Sweep 'em all there. Drag in corps if needed."
"That island has 'those' things, Mayor. How to handle?"
Island was for "entertaining." Not just cash—basement illegal slaves.
"Don't touch now. Probably watched. Nice and clean?"
"Then how—"
'Idiot chief!' inwardly fumed the mayor.
"What? Tie to mafia, cut the tail! Need I spell it?"
Face beet-red, he barked.
"Ah, no! Planning now."
"Good. If they leak first, we're toast. Clear?"
"Yes, careful."
Sakar's highest point. There, a secret summit to reshape the city brewed.