I entered this chamber fifty two years ago. I remember that day in its entirety. My memories before it are sparse, it was a different life, they were different times.
I remember my body. They said it was perfect, I was short, slim, smart. I agreed with them when they told me, but they didn’t know and I didn’t know.
Commander Scone looks at me from the other side of the command center. He stands tall, much taller than I am, and from beneath the iridescent ceiling he produces a smile. The room is empty, the Commander approaches, and I am frozen with excitement at the sight of the man whose voice has briefed me in my missions for so many years. I have seen him before in video, in hologram and images, but never before have I been standing before him. He’s a friend that I cherish, he’s a man I respect, but seeing him and his ship with my own eyes makes my memories seem like a distant dream.