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[Haspen]

You pass the time by reading some bartending lore.

1236USY.1d/1m.1148h

You learn the history of Synthols; the very first 'true' Synthol produced was Sucrosol, but it was too sweet and too artificially-tasting. It took several years to perfect the liquid replication technology, and by that time, Sucrosol's chemical formula changed several times. Its current form is about four times less sweet than original, apparently.

1236USY.1d/1m.1218h

It doesn't surprise you that the stories you've heard about Jet synthols being derived of aeronautic vehicle fuel are true. It was a bootlegger's recipe that gained fame (and notoriety for toxicity) that prompted the old Galactic Federation to first control, and then ban the production. SRC managed to synthetize the old drink while removing almost all of its toxicity, now called Dry Jet, and even came up with the sweeter variant, Wet Jet.

1236USY.1d/1m.1223h

You can't find anything especially interesting.

You shudder - is this how majority of your time will be spent? Milling about in boredom while waiting for potential client?

Hopefully not.

A) Got some time to explore myself!
B) Maybe there's still something to find on the station!
C) Got some time to read those old stories stored in station databanks!

[King Zultan]

B

[Kashyyk]

A - Sure why not.

[Egan_BW]

A

[chubby2man]

A

[Haspen]

You return to your quarters, undress and lay down on the bed, plugging the datapad into your neck socket.

1236USY.1d/1m.1350h

Your flesh has been designed from scratch to be impervious to imperfections and ugly marks.

Your mind has been designed to operate alongside a biochip and wetware computer to ensure that whatever your flesh is unable to solve or remember, the artificial memory banks and microprocessors will.

You theoretically need no food, but nutrient sludge and liquid vitamins do keep your body healthy and operating at maximum capacity. Speaking of food; you leave the bedroom for a moment to plug your feed-tube into the food delivery system. The hissing of the sludge being pumped into your stomach sounds so alien every time you feed.

Returning to your bedroom, you view your memories in the back of your head; your childhood on the agrarian planet Delta Taurii IIa as a farming drone, your flight from it and placement on the Las Palmas Manufacturing Station during your teen years, and then forced conscription into Delta Taurii System Defense Forces, where you spent most of your time moving ammunition and rations from one ship to another onboard the orbital dockyard.

Everything is in perfect order. No memory blockades or losses, no internal or external problems, no illnesses or troubling changes in your organic components.

And yet...

A) Delve deeper into the complex network of flesh and electronics.
B) Time to learn more about the station's secrets, if there's any.
C) I can pass time by checking out the Captain Zirconius series.

[Maximum Spin]

C

[Egan_BW]

A

[Superdorf]

Hmm.

A

[Kashyyk]

Captain Zirconius your say?

[King Zultan]

A

[Haspen]

You delve deeper into your memorybanks and cybernetic interface, interacting with your brain via datapad.

1236USY.1d/1m.1402h

You can recall the overall memories of your chilldhood, teenage and young adult years. Yet there are specific blocks that are simply... missing.

You're neither a cyberneticist nor a psychiatrist, but you can assume its mental trauma or damage to your circuitry, either of which should be impossible in such an advanced mind-machine interface like yours.

A) Run the diagnostics once again just to be sure.
B) Keep that in mind for later.
C) Try to remember what you've apparently forgotten.

[Egan_BW]

C

[King Zultan]

C

[Rockeater]

A