I wrote this back when Res was still in its heyday and never posted it. I don't really recall why. Thanks to Clef, Light, Moose and probably others for looking at it. This was literally years ago so fuck it if I remember who else looked this over.

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F.A.Q.

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Han hit terminal velocity approximately two kilometers above Ruston, Louisiana. The moon was hiding behind cloud cover. The complex below him, however, was easy to see. He'd tried a jump like this several times during training, but the rush of the real thing was hard to beat.
For the first time in a very long time, Han felt alive. It had been years since SCP-2913 had been removed from the arm of James Hallman. It had been years since Han had any real sense of freedom. A kilometer and a half above the control room that was his target, the severed hand began to sing.
"Run and tell all of the angels, this could take all night. Think I need a devil to help me get things right."
"Uh." A voice came over the comm, "Han, keep chatter to a minimum. We're not sure if Anderson can crack these frequencies or not."
He'd have to get used people calling him by his name. He'd been the one to think it up, originally, but it felt so strange hearing it out of someone else's mouth. It wasn't nearly as funny as when he thought of it years ago.
The voice came back. "Han. You're reaching parachute deployment altitude. Get ready to activate it."
"Yes sir." Han snapped back. This was it, time to shine.
A few moments passed before the voice returned yet again. "Han. Deploy your parachute."
Han laughed for a moment, activated the infrared vision on his glove, and surveyed the target building. A single operator was inside.
"Han what are you doing? Deploy your chute!"
"Don't worry. I'm gonna…"
There was a loud crash, a scream, and then silence.

"…punch that mother fucker right in the mouth at the speed of sound." Dr. Light looked up from the report at Dr. Cimmerian across the desk. "Other than the slightly colorful language, I don't see an issue here. The op was a success and 2987 is currently feeding us information on Anderson Robotics."
Cimmerian shifted in his seat. "You could've lost an asset and the MTF in that op. When the operator woke up, he sent the whole complex to North Korea. Han was supposed to infiltrate and destroy the system. He didn't do that."
Light put the report down on the desk. "SCP-2913 has been given the latitude to make the calls it deems appropriate during missions."
"Han has a serious maturity problem." Cimmerian shook his head. "I know you've seen the same profiles I have. Glass's reports have your signature on them."
"Yes. And you know as well as I do that if we barred objects with psych issues from participating in Alpha-Nine, we'd have none to participate." Light cocked her head to the side. "Where's this coming from? The Ethics Committee has signed off on the project. I got the feeling you support it as well."
"They have and I do. That's not the point. I've seen dozens of reports come across my desk about the effect this program may have on the Foundation or on humanity if it gets out of hand. But we're not putting much thought into what we're doing with the objects."
Light picked up a pen from the table and began to tap it slowly on the blotter in front of her. "The objects are safely contained. If that's what this is about…"
Cimmerian raised his hand slightly to interrupt. "It's not. I'll be clear. I've reviewed several of these objects. Most have serious mental issues that either can't, or won't be treated by us. Han can get therapy, but he may never come to cope with what happened before he became detached from his host. Medicating Iris might nullify her abilities or screw with them in ways we don't understand. But the Foundation stole most of that girl's childhood. You don't come out of that normal."
Light shook her head. "These objects were never going to be normal. But I'm trying to provide them with at least a sense of normalcy."
"After we spent years keeping them in boxes? And when in all likelihood they'll go back in boxes after we're done?"
"Oh." Light smirked. "So you're already planning for the project's failure?"
"We on the committee can afford to take the long view. All things come to an end. Regardless of how the dice fall with the project we will have gained invaluable experience to draw on when planning future containment procedures for sentient items. Allowing for more," Cimmerian paused for a moment and looked at Light, "leniency."
"I have to mix the long and the short view. If we aren't able to point to successes, this experience will be brief. 2913 and 105 both have successful ops under their belt. That's a good thing."
Cimmerian ran his hand through his hair. "What do you know about your team members?"
"I've read the dossiers. I understand what they have been through."
"Forget what you know. How well do you know the personalities behind the words and numbers?"
Light stopped tapping the pen on the desk and the two sat in silence for several seconds before Light spoke again. "You're right. But we are trying."
"Maybe before you pin our hopes and dreams on their success, you could spend a little bit of time talking to them? You want them treated like they're normal? Start treating them that way."
There was another longer pause, before Light looked back down at the report in front of her and spoke again. "What are the odds that he'd hit that guy right in the jaw?"
"There was another thing I wanted to talk to you about. It's not my field, but by my count that's three times Han's had an outrageous and improbable result come out of a life and death situation. That might be something you guys want to look into."
"It's five actually. There were two undocumented terminations attempts by Director Maddox. And we are looking into it already."
"Alright." Cimmerian stood up and grabbed his coat.
Light smiled. "You didn't ask how we know about Maddox."
Cimmerian's eyebrows went up. "I didn't?"

Dr. Alto Clef smiled to himself and exited Dr. Maddox's cell. Dr. Cimmerian was standing on the other side of the door, leaning against a wall. Clef closed the door behind him and spun around.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Clef whispered with a raised eyebrow.
Cimmerian half smiled. "You put in a requisition for a memory stealing object that leaves half the victims catatonic. You had to know one of us would be by."
"The Committee turned down my request."
"Yet, funnily enough, you just threatened Maddox with it."
Clef shrugged his shoulders. "I needed to intimidate him."
"I'm not saying that we don't trust you but uh… can I see the thing?"
Clef pulled his hand from his pocket, showing an object attached to his fingers and wrist.
Cimmerian opened his mouth to speak, paused, and then continued. "Ok. That's a fingertip vibrator."
"It is."
Cimmerian blinked. "Why do you have that?"
"Last week was my birthday."

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