Wymera exited the shuttle, her silver white fur contrasting the dark blue dress swirling about her.  Everything about her was regal and erudite, while at the same time cold and impersonal.  The cane she carried had been a symbol of her families power for generations, and only now in her advanced age had she been forced to lean heavily upon it for support.  Outwardly she still managed to radiate confidence and power, giving no indication that inwardly she was collapsing and crumbling under the weight of the empire she had forged.

"What do you mean 'a different body'?", she asked her personal physician.  Her voice wavering with age and exertion, as they crossed the hanger bay of the Oroyo flagship.  The sharp tip of her cane scratching the deck plates with each step.

"Its just that.  She is in a different body than we were expecting.  This one is... younger", said the doctor.

"Younger?", she huffed,  "How much younger?  You're sure its her?"

"It's definitely her, and she is somewhere in her late teens."

"Show it to me", she commanded.

Minutes later they arrived at the med bay.  On a monitor she could see two tables had been arranged head to head at an incline in the operating theater.  Strapped to one was the body of a teenage Mephitine girl.

"And you are sure you can do this?", she asked the doctor.

"No, I am not sure.  Nobody is.  Not even the dragons", replied her physician.  "Getting the information we have about this procedure was difficult enough, and even then, the documentation is littered with warnings and cautions about attempting it.  Its no surprise that this has only been done successfully three times in the past, and never when the receiving core was already occupied."

"Are you saying that I should find someone else?", she asked.

"No, I am saying that there is nobody else.  Nobody that would attempt it anyway", he said with a hint of worry.

"But you will?"

"We have no other options Wymera.  You are dying, we cant hold that back any longer", he knelt in front of the old woman, and placed his hand on hers. "If we do nothing, you will be dead within three months.  If the procedure is successful, Shannon's memories will be purged, and you will wake up in the body of a teenager."

"And if it fails?"

"If the procedure is unsuccessful, Shannon's memories will merge with yours and you will both end up as some horrible tortured echo of your former selves.  Both trapped in a body that neither can control."

"So if it fails, try again", she suggested.

"Not possible.  The process of reading engrams is in itself destructive.  No matter the outcome, your original body will be dead.  That's another reason nobody ever attempts to do this."

"The dragon did", growled the old woman.

"The dragon, got lucky", retorted the doctor.

Shannon was vaguely aware of her surroundings.  She knew it was a medical bay, she knew she was strapped to a table, and she knew that some serious drugs had been injected into her system.  Attempts to pull at her restraints were met with mixed signals from her extremities.  Some telling her brain that they weren't moving at all and others that the straps had released and she was moving freely.   

She tried to ignore her physical body and focus on thinking clearly.  The drugs couldn't get to her mind, only scramble the signals it sent to and received from her body.  With a hurricane of misinformation pounding on her from the outside, she tried opening small holes to catch a few distinguishable raindrops.

Reaching out for a network, she was met with silence.  She could tell that there were devices nearby, but they were all locked down or hardwired.  She wondered if someone had done their homework, or was just lucky.

Her eyes turned out to be a terrible second choice.  Control over her eyelids was sluggish, and her irises so dilated that even the subdued lighting in the room was blinding.  What detail she could see, moved, bent, and twisted in ways that made her nauseous before she could get them closed again.

Her ears were kinder, though it sounded as if her head were under a pillow, and the pitch wavered higher and lower in slow waves.  She could hear the medical equipment in the room, and the sound of people talking in another, muffled by either a wall or door.  No words were discernible until a door opened and at least two people entered the room she was in.

"The transfer could take up to a day, depending on how easy your engrams are to read", said a male voice. "Then it will likely take a few months of therapy before your brain fully adjusts to everything."

Wymera picked up one of Shannon's hands and stroked the back of it with her skeletal fingers. "How... functional is it?"

That voice stunned Shannon.  She knew it could only be her grandmother, but if that were true, why was she still alive at all?  Her mind raced.  

"She is currently heavily sedated.  Mostly for our safety."

"No, no..  I mean the body.  How functional is it?   Would I be able to produce an heir?"

"Sadly no.  The dragons perfected the process of growing bodies as replacement parts, not as progenitors.  I think that even they felt that would be too much like playing-god", said the doctor.

Shannon, replayed the conversation in her head.  They were talking about transferring Wymera into an AI shell.  Into HER shell!  She had to get out of here, off this table.

"Typical for dragons", the old woman croaked, dropping Shannon's hand back to the table. "Coming up with an idea, but never taking it to its full potential."

"Besides, we don't know where this body is from.  It certainly is not from Oroyo genes", said the doctor.

Shannon imagined her grandmother's face when she discovered the origin of her new body, and laughed to herself.  The mental laugh triggered some adjacent neurons, and her body chuckled as well.

Wymera turned her head sharply to face Shannon's body, and tugged at the doctor's sleeve. "She's awake!"

"Possibly", the doctor replied almost without care as he checked some displays.  "As I said, she is heavily drugged.  Her brain may be awake, but her body is miles away."

Shannon focused and pushed as hard as she could through the wall of noise coming from her body's nervous system.  "Hello.. grandmother..", she slurred.

Wymera stepped back away from the table as if it were on fire, pointing at it with her cane. "Miles away, you say?"

"You don't want to do this", Shannon mumbled, "Its not what you think."

"Oh I think I do", her grandmother chided. "Ive seen how you and your dragon friend prance around the Federation, sticking your noses into family business, and the chaos you leave in your wake.  All that wasted potential."

Wymera turned away from Shannon and to her doctor. "How soon can we start?"

"We can begin erasure within the hour", replied the doctor.

"Very well", she said, then made her way into the adjoining observation room, now full of people wishing to speak with her.  Her lawyer immediately rushed to her side, still drafting last minute legal forms to cover any possible contingencies.  

"You can't do this", said Shannon after the door closed. "It will kill me."

"Shannon Oroyo died nearly 35 years ago", said the doctor without looking up from his displays.

"Do you really believe that?", Shannon asked, opening her eyes, the haze in her head nearly gone.

"I'll tell you what I believe", said the doctor as he walked to the table, and placed a hand on her cheek. "I believe that if I am successful, Wymera will be very grateful to me, and she will reward me for my services."

Shannon shuddered as he stroked his hand along the side of her head.

The doctor returned to his panels as the door opened, and Wymera re-entered, having addressed her throng of sycophants.  Most were filing out in to the hallway, but a few remained to witness this once-in-a-lifetime event.

"Final warning, grandmother", said Shannon.  "If you do this, it will mean deaths."

"Oh really, now?", the old woman replied sarcastically, "How many?"

"That depends", said Shannon, "How many people are on this ship?"

"Ha!", retorted her grandmother, as she began undressing for the procedure. "Lock the room."

Before the doctor could get to the door, a frantic figure blocked him.

"Wait, wait, I need you to sign these before you start", said her lawyer as he entered the room, brandishing a data pad, "You know, just in case this doesn't work."

The data pad was a light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel for Shannon.  She raced to it, and dove into its brightness without caution.

"Thank you", sighed Shannon, then added, "Two hundred seventy three."

The screen on the tablet suddenly went blank, and was replaced with three large digits '2 7 3'.

"What?", exclaimed the lawyer as his work vanished, frantically tapping on the tablets screen, trying to restore it.  "Where are my forms?  What is two hundred seventy three?"

"The number of people on this ship", replied Shannon flatly.

The room shook as a distant boom was heard, and the tablet's display changed to read '2 7 1'.