"Are you sure this accurate?" came the question in a deep rich voice that carried a note of sincere concern. First Lieutenant Brock Gohlen, head liaison for the military who has a large stake in the development of practical applications for dream-based manifestations, holds a folder in his hand, his sharp green eyes scrutinizing every bit of information provided by the document inside. A tight grimace is set on his face as he reads the contents over and over before looking back up at the man who brought him the folder, a somewhat tall enlisted man and immediate subordinate of 1stLt Gohlen.<br/><br/>Catching the eyes of his superior officer, the enlisted man, Staff Sergeant Racks, can't help but jump a little when the question fires out of Brock after sitting in silence for the last few minutes as his 1st Lt read through the results. Although every man in the military sector of the development team at the labs respects the liaison, the reputation of him being a hard commander, especially when difficulties arise, is fairly well known. "Yes, sir," Racks replies after he gets his bearing back. "The tests have been run over and over again with the same results each time."<br/><br/>Brock lets out a hard sigh while dropping the folder onto his desk and leaning back into his chair, contemplating on how best to approach the new problem that seems to be developing. His left hand comes up and he rubs his thumb and forefinger over his eyes as he attempts to rub out the approaching migraine. "Is there any chance the tests didn't contain the necessary variations to account for the variables between each subject?"<br/><br/>It wasn't a serious question, SS Racks knew, just some straws that his CO was grasping at hoping for some new angle. The frustration from the repeated failures of the project over the last few weeks have been wearing everyone thin but the 1st Lt was doing his best to keep everyone from falling into despair. "Yes, sir. The doctors were well aware of the variances that could arise from studying different subjects and set each test accordingly. They even went so far to provide many back up tests just in case there was some random variable they missed but...as you can see those came out negative as well. The subjects just don't seem to be responding the way we were hoping."<br/><br/>Brock listened very intently, as he always did. Once of his many strengths has always been giving him personnel his complete attention at all times. He let the words sink in then sat back and studied the young man for several moments, wondering how far he was going to make it in his military career. The staff sergeant has been with him on the project since Brock himself was assigned to it several months ago and has proven to a bright one from the very beginning. Many of the men and women assigned to this task have proven themselves to be so, which is to be expected with how high of a matter the research they are working on is to the military. After several moments of silence, Brock stands up and walks over to the wall where a large green metal cabinet is standing. Aside from the green from the cabinet, the liaison's office is as spartan as one can except from a room designed for a military officer but it is enough for the needs of Brock, who has never been one for much creature comforts himself. He opens the door to the cabinet and pulls out a bottle of some dark liquor and two glasses, walks back over to the desk and places both glasses down. Hesitating a minute, he looks to his staff sergeant and cracks a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and then he opens the bottle and liberally pours the dark liquid into each glass, filling them half way before stopping and recapping the bottle. He slides one over to the end of the desk and picks up the other. The staff sergeant's eyes dash quickly from the drink to his commanding officer several times. This makes a genuine smile come from Brock as he lets out a small laugh, "Go ahead and drink it, Racks. Right now we can skip the protocol shit, yeah?"<br/><br/>Racks nods his head firmly and takes up the glass, "Yes, sir. With the way everything has gone these last few weeks I think it would be alright to loosen up just a bit." He brings the glass to his lips and tips it back, letting the warm liquid run down his throat, shaking his head as it burns all the day down. He sets the glass back down on the desk and looks as his commander throws back his own. They both set their glasses back down.<br/><br/>"I just don't understand it," Brock speaks into the empty glass as he swirls it about his hand, staring blankly at the drop if liquor swishing around the bottom of the glass. "We had everything going so well. All the theoretical work was written up well, the simulations performed exactly as expected, and the beginning of the physical trials were meeting success beyond our expectations. The subjects were actually able to effect physical manifestations from their dreams onto reality. Hell, that pretty boy Dyson was able to nearly brainwash some of our personnel for a while there. Now all of a sudden none of them are responding. Just what the hell is going on?"<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"> Another rhetorical question, of course,</span>thought Racks as he watches his CO pour more whiskey into each glass, this time leaving the cap off, sitting back down into his chair as he lifts reaches out to lift up the glass closest to him. Racks leans slightly to pick up his when an insistent knocking comes to the door.<br/><br/>Ignoring the knocking, Brock tips back his glass and downs the liquor and lets the burn warm up his chest before placing the empty glass back on the desk. Several moments pass by before the knock comes again, this time louder, and the liaison lets out another hard sigh before responding, "Come in!" The door opens up and a young woman with light blond hair tied up into a bun walks in wearing a white lab coat and expression of fatigue and what looks to be a hint of hope. Brock immediately perks up as the woman makes a beeline to the desk with another folder in her hands and immediately holds it out towards him when she gets close enough, her eyes glancing over the bottle and glasses before looking directly into the eyes of the 1st Lt.<br/><br/>"Maybe I can get a couple drinks myself after you read this..." she says, the spark in her light brown eyes matching the fire in her voice.<br/><br/>The liaison takes the folder while eyeing her suspiciously. He breaks the gaze to open it and read the contents inside. Several minutes pass by as he reads, during which the new arrival and the staff sergeant exchange glances with each other. "Damn..." he struggles to speak as he finishes read the document and places it onto the desk over the other one, looking up at the doctor as she faces back at him, "This is good. How certain are you that this can work?"<br/><br/>She snorts but immediately forces a cough to get a hold of her self, "As certain as anything else we have done but I would say the likelihood of success from this is quite high. All the simulations have come back with positive results and we are ready to move onto live tests. If you can get the subjects ready, we can get started immediately." She stands up straight and proud as she crosses her arms in wait for a response.<br/><br/>Brock thinks for just a moment and then nods his head once, standing up and walking over to the coat rack that stands right next to the cabinet. "I would offer you a drink, Dr. Linthe, but you're about to head these tests and I need your mind to be sharp. Who is in right now? We are going to need a good staff present for these round of tests. You've got a good theory going here and I don't want anything to mess this up." He throws his Officer's jacket on and buttons himself up, his medals and ribbons places precariously as if he walked out of a military training video. His head snaps up as a thought passes through his mind, "Dr. Colt...when does she arrive?"<br/><br/>The blonde doctor tilts her head to the side as she thinks for a moment before answering, "She should be here soon. I'll be sure to leave a memo for her to come straight to the subject testing area as soon as she arrives."<br/><br/>Another affirmative nod of the head and Brock walks towards the door, "I want this test to be ready to go by the time she arrives. Oh, and get that neuro-psychologist down there as well. No harm in knowing what sort of mentality these poor bastards are going to be in during all this."<br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: white;background:white;"/></div><br/><br/>About half an hour later all 3 of them are several floors lower than the liaison office, surrounded by dozens of personnel; scientists, doctors, security, etc. Everyone is preparing the equipment for the next battery of tests that are about to take place, the test subjects being walked towards a set of machines lining the wall in an area that is sectioned off from the rest of the room by high impact glass. Brock taps his foot anxiously as each test subject is prepped for the machines. Each one being fitted with neural sensing devices on their heads that pick up traces of activity. Each one injected with a fluorescent fluid that can be seen in a cat scan to see what parts of the body are effected during the tests.<br/><br/>"You don't have to feel too bad here...they are volunteers after all," comes a soft voice from behind Brock. He recognizes the voice immediately and quickly turns about to greet Dr. Austuuk, his wire-rimmed glasses reflecting light as the short man looks up to the military liaisons. Though the two only really talk during tests, and then only in a professional manner, the two hold a certain degree of respect for each other.<br/><br/>Brock extends his hand in greeting and smiles widely as the two men shake before he responds, "I don't mean to surprise you doc but I'm not overly concerned for their well-being. I'd like to avoid causalities as much as possible but the research we are doing here is far more important than their comfort. I just hope this works. For all of our successes to immediately drop off like it did concerns me."<br/><br/>The small older gentleman smiles warmly as he shakes the 1st Lts hand and listens to his well-honed bravado for the greater good,<span style="font-style: italic">an admirable quality most of the time,</span>he thinks to himself before responding, "Of course, wouldn't want to let the lives of innocent people get in the way of your ambitious military advancements...for the greater good."<br/><br/>Brock can't help but give a good hard laugh as he turns himself towards the test subjects. "Innocent people? Sure. I'm sure they all have benevolent reasons to sign themselves up for a top secret government funded research assignment to develop ways to bring dreams to reality. I'm sure their own desires have nothing to do with it."<br/><br/>"Tsk tsk tsk," Dr. Austuuk shakes his head in mock-scolding as he positions himself next to the 1st Lt, looking through the glass at the subjects getting fitted for the machines, his eyes stopping directly on one young man who stands a head taller than nearly every other person, a look of extreme boredom and irritation painted across the subject's face, as if all this was just something beneath him. "You've got to give people a bit more credit, lieutenant. Everyone wants to make their dreams come true. It's not fair to rebuke those willing to take the opportunity to do so. These people are taking a great risk here. Who knows what sort of damage that could be done to them during all this, yet they all are still here. Every single subject has stayed, despite all the discomfort and pain they have had to endure so far. There is something to be admired in that.<br/><br/>A grunt of assent escapes from Brock as he follows the doctors gaze to the tall young man, an uneasy feeling passing through the 1st Lt as he looks at the beautiful face the young man possesses. "That one scares me," he admits out loud to the doctor without any shame, "I know his reputation, he thinks hes God's gift to the world and shits on anyone that doesn't agree. If it were up to me I would have rejected him when he applied but unfortunately my superiors got a reminder that the military isn't the only organization that have been shoveling funds into this project, so my request to get him removed hit a brick wall." He turns his face slightly towards the doctor, noticing how intently those blue eyes of him are locked onto the pretty boy.<span style="font-style: italic">He doesn't like him either,</span>Brock thinks to himself.<br/><br/>Dr. Austuuk gives a resigned shrug as he pulls his gaze away from the young man and looks up to the liaison, "You never know with people, the kind of surprises they could come out with. Nonetheless, neither one of us has any power to decide who gets to be a part of the tests and who doesn't. The only thing we are here for is to ensure the project works," he breaks himself from his reverie and animatedly smacks his hands together, "and that is what we aim to do, right lieutenant?"<br/><br/>Without anything he can actually say against that the military liaison nods his head and looks at his wrist watch and back at the entrance to the room, "Right. We just need to make sure all the players are in position if we are going to do this the right way. Any idea where Dr. Colt is?"<br/><br/>"Hmm," the older gentleman looks at his own watch, a nice golden circular piece, and strokes his beard to ponder the question, "from what I understand she should have come in by now. Though, I don't really know her schedule so I can't say for certain. I'm sure she will show up soon enough. It's not like the unlimited funding we are getting for this project is going away any time soon. A nice enough woman, from what I hear, that we can forgive her if she doesn't show up by the end of the hour I think."