The sterile, almost oppressive atmosphere of Chiplab's headquarters in the industrial sector of the Orbital Station was a far cry from the chaos of battle. Here, everything was clean, clinical, and precise. The walls were lined with sleek metal panels, and the air hummed with the low, consistent buzz of machines working away in the labs below. This was the birthplace of the future—the place where technology and human consciousness met in a perfect union. But not everything here was as pristine as it seemed.
The CEO of Chiplab, Dr. Cassandra Albrecht, stood before a large holographic display in her private office, her sharp eyes fixed on the information streaming across the translucent screen. She was a woman in her prime—mid-forties, with short, platinum blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and a demeanor that was both commanding and calm. Her reputation for innovation and cutting-edge technology was unmatched, but it was a reputation that came at a price. Her company, Chiplab, had always been at the forefront of the most controversial developments in neural implants, and now, they were working on something that would take them to new heights—and possibly into darker territory.
"Project Resurrection is advancing faster than expected," Cassandra said, her voice steady as she addressed her team of engineers and researchers gathered around the table. "The new chips we've developed can maintain an active neural connection long after the pilot's death. It's an extraordinary breakthrough, but we need to test it under real-world conditions."
Her eyes flickered to the lead engineer, Dr. Caleb Lawson, who was standing near the corner of the room, his face obscured by his thick-rimmed glasses. He was an aging man, his hair thinning and speckled with gray, but his intellect had been the driving force behind many of Chiplab's most daring experiments.
"The new prototype is capable of taking control of a mech's systems autonomously, but there are still some issues with cognitive degradation. The implant's reaction to the brain's residual activity is unpredictable. We've managed to stabilize the connection for a few hours after death, but we'll need more data," Dr. Lawson explained.
Dr. Albrecht nodded, her mind working through the possibilities. "But what happens when the pilot's body dies? The chip still maintains a connection, but does it function like a true pilot? Or is it more like a remote-controlled machine?"
"We're close, but the first tests on deceased pilots have shown a slight delay in motor function. The neural signature left after death is... fractured, but manageable. If we can stabilize the neural link after death, we'll have something truly revolutionary."
"Truly," Cassandra muttered, her voice dripping with a cold excitement. "This technology will change everything. Mechs that can be piloted even without a living pilot—no more need to worry about casualties on the battlefield. We'll have unstoppable soldiers, machines capable of fighting indefinitely, without the limitations of human life."
Her gaze shifted to the view outside her office window. She could see the great expanse of space, dotted with ships and stations. Beneath it all, the war raged on. And yet, despite the suffering and the carnage, she knew that Chiplab's technology would make her company indispensable. The CMC's military, the UOP, anyone—if they had access to this new type of mech, they'd never be at a disadvantage again. And they would pay handsomely for it.
"Can we deploy the first batch?" she asked, her voice sharp as she focused on the implications of what was being discussed.
Dr. Lawson hesitated. "The ethical concerns are... considerable. We've lost a few test subjects. The neural link after death is... difficult. Sometimes the bodies... they don't accept the implants properly. There are reports of muscle spasms, random movements. It's not a clean process."
"I don't care about ethics, Caleb," Cassandra snapped, her eyes narrowing. "This war will not wait for us to be 'ethical'. The sooner we get this technology into the hands of our allies, the better. The CMC has a chance to crush the UOP once and for all—this is how we'll win."
A quiet murmur passed among the team as they processed her words. Some of them looked uncomfortable, but no one dared question her leadership. They knew better than to doubt her vision. Cassandra had made them who they were, and she would take them to even greater heights, regardless of the costs.
Dr. Lawson sighed, rubbing his temples. "Alright. But we need to make sure that these new implants are fully compatible with existing mech models. The synchronization process could take longer than we expect."
"I'll leave the testing to you, Caleb," Cassandra said, her voice softening slightly. "But make sure it's fast. I want results, not excuses. Chiplab will not fail now—not when victory is within our grasp."
She paused, her fingers tapping against the smooth surface of her desk. "Prepare the first test batch. Get them into the field as soon as possible. We'll need them for the upcoming offensive. The CMC must have the edge."
As she dismissed her team, Cassandra lingered for a moment, staring at the holographic screen before her. The possibility of perfecting the connection between a dead pilot and a mech was tantalizing. They were on the verge of creating something new, something that would change the course of this war. The CMC would have an army of undying soldiers, their mechs performing like extensions of their own bodies, but without the risks of losing human life.
Chiplab had always been at the cutting edge of innovation, but this project—Project Resurrection—was something different. It would bring her company and her vision to the world stage, and it would ensure that no one could stand against her. Not the UOP. Not the mercenaries. Not even the titans of industry.
For now, Cassandra smiled to herself, knowing the next phase of the war was about to begin. The CMC would be ready.