The next day the Strontium Dogs found themselves boarding a GCC shuttle, and spending a boring six hours being shuttled to an unknown location somewhere within the system.
As they approached the large station they saw the markings identified it as belonging to the Waylingbrook corporation: presumably one of the many contractors assigned to the GCC Research labs.
As they exited the shuttle they were approached by a smallish, sunburned man with a mole on his left cheek which riveted everyone’s attention.
‘Good evening… erm… afternoon… morning?’ the man in his bright yellow lab coat proferred, somewhat confusedly, ‘I lose track sometimes. Not that it matters up here, anyway"
He stood up,several clipboards gathered under his arms, “My name is Dr. Yamin Henry and I will be overseeing your equipment testing.”
“Now, the GCC already signed all of your release forms for you,” the doctor continued, handing each agent a clipboard,“So all you have to do is decide what in today’s line up you will be testing. Oh and do we have a good array of fabulously experimental technologies for you to test!”
The Agents looked over the clipboards, Anwyn noting a number of cop out legal clauses for the GCC.
Dr. Henry asked each of the Agents to sign a number of forms, and then they were split up and led off by different lab assistants.
“Why are we here again?” thought Moe. He was in for a short sharp shock.
“Take your cloths off please Miss” said the spotty lab assistant to Clarissa.
“Come again …ah David” said Clarissa, reading his name badge.
“Oh sorry- you need to take all your cloths off and put on that body stocking” said David.
“It’s transparent” said Clarissa flatly.
“Oh yes, better readings that way.” said David. “Don’t worry, I’m a scientist.”
Somewhat annoyed, Clarissa stripped off, noting that she was now being watched by at least six or seven male scientists, and one female scientist with a crop top haircut. Most of them seemed to be sweating profusely.
“All my clothes?” asked Clarissa.
“Yes. The ..err.. undergarments too. Please.” responded David. Clarissa languidly complied, and pulled on the transparent body stocking. A technician moved across, trying not to stare downwards, and led her over to a sort of frame, to which she was secured and a number of sensors fixed to her temples and body. Seven or eight pairs of beady eyes stared at her.
A lab technician stepped forward thirty metres in front of her; he seemed to be carrying an assault rifle.
“Ok” called David, “A full burst at belly level. Then we’ll move on to the lasers.”
“Whattt!!” cried Clarissa. “Now wait a…….” but her protests were drowned out by the sound of automatic fire.
“Gerrafuckinmoveon” said Moe. The lab tech looked at him dispassionately.
“Look Dumbo” said the Tech, “Just point the pretty gun at the pretty target”
The testing area was similar to a standard firing range with stark white walls; a large humanoid mannequin wearing powered armour hung at the end of the corridor.
“Take your place on that mark Brains” the assistant said sarcastically as he loaded a clip full of ammunition, “and begin firing two-pull bursts at the target. Increase to three-pulls after five impacts, then continue until the magazine is empty. Got that?”
“Caarn I just punch the fuckin’ thing?” complained Moe. The Tech rolled his eyes: this wasn’t going to be easy.
’Enery was led to a small white room with a single chair bolted to the middle of the floor. Next to the chair was a tray full of medical instruments.
“Please,” the nurse gestured, “take off your shirt and have a seat.” ’Enery complied.
The nurse injected him with a long syringe, which pierced through even ’Enery’s thick hide. A set of restraints clipped out pinning his wrists and ankles, and after ten minutes an aching pain started to gather in ’Enery’s veins.
It was then that the lab tech. appeared with a cattle prod, and jabbed at ’Enery, who howled with pain. This was followed up with a laser scalpel, a stiletto and a good pounding with a baseball bat. Another tech with a short skirt and cute freckles, calmly took notes.
’Enery glanced down and noted with surprise that the cuts and puncture wounds had healed.
Anwyn was led into an oval shaped chamber containing several piles of different materials, from ingots of metal to sacks of sawdust. At the centre, floating above a small pedestal, was a glowing crystalline cube. “Place your fingers into the corresponding sockets on the cube,” the assistant said, “then try and focus on your aggressive qualities. If you cannot get it to trigger, I have this prod to help you get, how should I say it, upset?”
“What ’ave I let myself in for?” thought Anwyn, placing her fingers into one of the holes. Nothing. She pulled a face, and then one of the techs stepped forward and jabbed her with a cattle prod.
“Arrrrrgggh!” she screamed, “You little B…………!”
“Again!”, called a voice from the back of the room.
Chick tossed the heavy bladed weapon he had been given to test. The testing room was a small white box dominated by a trio of mannequins wearing different styles of armour.
“Here,” the assistant pointed, “Try to stab as deeply as you can before trying to cut laterally but make sure you do cut laterally. No thrusts, please.”
“I need a drink.” he thought.
The blade test was short, and Chick was next shuffled into a testing area consisting of a long white room with lighting apparatus hanging from the ceiling and a distant eye-exam chart at the far end. An ergonomic stool sat at the opposite end from the chart, next to a lab-coated assistant.
“Please sit,” he nodded, producing a dropper of a yellowish fluid, “This will only sting for a few hours”
Three drops of the fluid were dropped into each eye. At first there was no effect, but then both eyes started to itch horribly. Chick noted that restraints had appeared from the arms of the chair. The light went down.
“Look at the chart please. We will now conduct a few eye tests. Don’t worry- this shouldn’t take more than seven or eight hours.”
Aching with pain after being shot, stabbed, prodded and ogled Clarissa hobbled over to the desk. Miraculously the body stocking had saved her from serious injury.
“Can I take this off now?” she asked.
“That will not be necessary” said David. “We would prefer it if you kept it on while we observed you in the next tests. In the interests of Science you understand.”
Clarissa was led into the next room, and handed a strange looking pistol. Adjustable targets made of various materials hung along the corridor.
“Stand over on the mark,” said David. She was conscious of several pairs of eyes scrutinising her naked body bestockinged butt from behind.
“Limit the blaster shots to one per six seconds to let the instruments do their job. Try to hit each target as they cross the centre line. You may begin with the red target whenever you are ready.’
Clarissa stood on the mark and took single shots at the targets, just as instructed. Her aim was good, and she noted with satisfaction that the targets were completely disintegrated.
“That’s very good” said David. “Would you like to field test this weapon for a while? I can get the appropriate forms.”
“Can I take this body stocking off now?”asked Clarissa.
“After you’ve filled in the appropriate forms.” said David. “Bend over and sign here.”