The Jedi Council takes turns dishing MORE fucking exposition absolutely vital mission information to Ziggurat 8. He’s told that some armed group is showing signs of increasing strength in the galaxy. Jedi Virginia Slim elaborates, “This same group was responsible for the events that took place 14 years ago.” Why, 14 years ago? And Margulis and Wonderbra have been working for the Galaxy’s Evil Expositors for 14 years? What an incredible coincidence!
Ziggurat 8 identifies this group for us as “The U-TIC Organization.” Jedi Clean confirms this, and tells Ziggurat 8 that they’ve pinpointed the location of U-GEE’s sooper seekrit hideout. The cyborg and all the Jedi turn to the projection screen, which displays a few planetary bodies. “This structure was originally a shrine for some long-lost ancient religion,” one Jedi explains, so I understand later why there’s a chapel in the middle of the enemy base. Hey, at least there is a reason. But now the shrine is abandoned, and all the people who prayed there have long since gone to Hell, where they’re serenaded daily by Toby Keith and Avril Lavigne.
‘And pick up a box of Krispy Kremes on the way back.’
Ziggurat 8 assumes from the setup that they want him to bust in and spy on U-GEE. “If that was all we needed,” one Jedi rudely says, “we would have left it to our intelligence agency.” Well, fuck you too, buddy. Jedi Keith, more politely than his colleague, says, “To put it simply, we need you to rescue someone and return her to her rightful place.” If you really wanted to put it simply, Keith, you would have just said it was a rescue mission. But why am I bothering to point this out? Don’t I know better by now?
“And technically,” Jedi Keith adds, “she’s not human.” He says this like she’s a man-eating tiger. Ziggurat 8 narrows his Aryan blue eyes at this slur on non-humans and replies, “Just tell me what I need to know.” And if that sounds like an excuse for more exposition, that’s because it is. Sigh. Uh, I mean, hooray! Ms. Jedi giggles behind her hand for a moment, and the other Jedi look at her with expressions full of Deep Meaning. She punches some keys on her panel and a picture of a little redhead girl (not Red, though) appears on the screen. “A child…. Is she a civilian?” the cyborg says, his silver buttocks gleaming. Hey, they are. A Jedi corrects this impression: “She’s a Realian, a 100-Series Realian.” Ziggurat 8’s heard of these NON-HUMAN (don’t forget!) Realians, “built specifically to combat the Gnosis.” But he notes, with a degree of distaste, that he had no idea they were also built specifically to be eye candy for pedophiles. “Is this the first time you’ve seen the real thing?” Jedi Virginia Slim asks him, as if he’s got one in the back room for his “personal” use if Ziggurat 8 is into that sort of thing.
More happy fun-time exposition about 100-Series Realians follows: Vector, no doubt as part of a juicy government subcontract, is mass-producing them, but this girl is the prototype, and thus she’s much more valuable than the cheap factory models. Jedi Clean adds, “It will serve as the model for all future 100-Series Observational Units.” Well, “it” is already serving as the model for them, seeing as it’s the fucking prototype and all, Captain Obvious.
But lo, there’s more! Ziggurat 8 clarifies that his only priority is to get the girl back. One Jedi calls him a “quick study” because he can regurgitate what has been thoroughly explained to him. Quick like a fox, this guy. They ask him if he will accept the mission. “A cyborg has no rights,” he answers in a low voice. “I cannot refuse your request.” This guy is probably the life of any party. Hanging his head a little, he asks if he can request something in return for his success. “After my return, I ask that you eliminate the neural memories residing in my brain from my previous life.” Yeah, he is brightening the mood of this room like crazy right now. The Jedi agree to do what they can, figuring that maybe he’ll go away if they do whatever he asks.
But Jedi Anachronism can’t just let the issue drop. He calls Ziggurat 8’s request “odd.” If you’ve surmised already that Ziggurat 8 wants to become as machine-like as possible and shed his human emotions, you get a gold star for being so very smart. For the rest of you, here’s some heavy-handed dialogue: “These days, Realians are clamoring for human rights, but here’s a man who wants to become a machine.” See the connection yet? *thwack* Now? *pow* Now? *thud* How ’bout now?
By the way, during that last exchange, the camera was steadily on Ms. Jedi, as if we were supposed to see some reaction of hers to the dialogue. Needless to say, she had no reaction at all. But another lady Jedi tells Ziggurat 8, “You can get the specifics from her, Dr. Juli Mizrahi…later,” and she indicates her female colleague. Again with the naturalness of the name drop. Ziggurat 8 casts a sideways Meaningful Glance at her, so we know they had some reason for cramming her name into this scene. Also, don’t think that name is pronounced “Julie.” It actually sounds like “Dr. Yuri Mizrahi,” which I’m sure makes at least a few fanboys very happy indeed. And since I’m on the fanboys’ case all the time in these recaps, I’ll continue to call her that, just for them. Aww.
Ziggurat 8 leaves through the hole in the floor. Dr. Yuri continues to snicker to herself as she reads his medical file on her screen. “Well, well…” she says. “He didn’t die in the line of battle.” She goes on to the room full of people who probably have the same thing on their screens, “It says here he committed suicide. One shot in the head from his beloved pistol.” It actually says in his medical file that it was his “beloved pistol”? Whatever. Also: snicker.
“Did you say suicide?” Jedi Clean freaks, again, like he can’t read it on his own damn monitor. “Can we entrust the 100-Series with that man? What if his self-destructive tendencies arise?” He wonders if Ziggurat 8 will blow the mission because he feels the urge to cut himself? I don’t know. And hey, nice to hear psychiatric terms like “self-destructive tendencies” from the guy who wrote off psychiatry as loon science not five minutes ago. Dumbass.
Dr. Yuri calms her bald friend. Apparently Ziggurat 8 has a safety mechanism where he can’t kill himself, nor can he give up his mission. Quick flashback, just to make sure you guys are following along: he isn’t allowed to kill himself, and Realians come with a mechanism that makes them kill themselves, both at the whim of humans. This is what Shion referred to as “playing god.” It’s what I refer to as “a hockey stick to my temple.” Humans are bad and mean and controlling, mmkay?
So, some of you may be wondering why Ziggurat 8 is alive today if he killed himself years ago. Well, Dr. Yuri will tell you, as soon as she gets out of her chair and walks to the window, so she can be a pensive- and wistful-looking talking head. There, she’s in position, and so she says, “He was brought back to life against his will.” Wait. That explains nothing. Shit.
Um, he was legally dead when he died, too.
“Once he replaces the rest of his brain with synthetics, he’ll be a complete machine,” she continues, stating the obvious and reiterating something we’ve already established. “Only then…will he be legally dead,” she finishes, her voice dripping with Juicy Significance, even though we STILL don’t know why the fuck he died. See, Xenosaga doesn’t have the Piano of Poignancy and Pointlessness, so it’s all gotta be in the voice acting. These guys work even harder to tell, not show!
Well, that’s six hundred minutes of my life gone, and I’d like them back. So…uh…I can watch that scene again, because it was so great, and best of all, there was no Shion! Yeah! Great! Three cheers for exposition!
If you thought that last scene was an action-packed rush, just wait until you get a load of this next one! Elsewhere, some uniformed U-GEE grunts are standing guard over a jail cell. The occupant of this cell? Why, Princess Leia the 100-Series Realian girl, of course. Margulis pays his captive a visit, hopefully not in that way. He asks, “How are you feeling, 100-Series Realian?” Obviously, she doesn’t answer, because good guys don’t dignify bad guys with responses. He notices her food tray has gone untouched, and wonders if she doesn’t like the grub. Yeah, prison food is known for its culinary excellence, dude. It must just be her. He adds, answering my unasked question, “Even Realians require nourishment, you know.” When she continues her silent treatment, he gets a little miffed. “Are the Federation’s 100-Series Realians so ill-mannered that they don’t even reply to simple questions?”
‘Call me Lolita again and I’ll cut you.’
Finally, the Realian speaks: “I don’t like that name.” Well, “100-Series Realian” is not a name, but I can see why she wouldn’t like it. Margulis, with mock astonishment, asks her what she’d like to be called. “I don’t like strangers to be calling me by my name,” she replies. So, he can’t call her what she is, and she won’t tell him her name. What’s he supposed to call her, “Hey, you”?
Loading ...That issue aside, the girl asks where she’s being taken. Margulis, naturally, tells her it’s none of her beeswax. As for what they want with her in the first place, Margulis sneers, “You’re going to help us out. Machines like you exist to be used [as lame plot devices].” Oh, eyeroll. As if he could ever hope to get any more hackneyed than that, he goes on, “What happens to you after that, god only knows. …Assuming you people even have a god, that is.” Jeebus save me. Once I recover from Margulis’s Corn Power, I realize this game is pretty steadfast in its refusal to capitalize “god.” It’s like, I dunno, they’re trying to make some kind of statement. But that’s silly–the writers couldn’t possibly be that pretentious.
The girl gets a little confused here. “All I can really do is seek out and find the Gnosis,” she says. “I can’t help you with anything!” Margulis apparently knows something about her that she doesn’t. Tapping his forehead, he tells her, “But this part of you is a little different. We’d like to have a word with the man you have hidden inside of you.” I really don’t know how to take that statement, but I can’t find a non-sick way to take it. The (now obvious) midget man gasps, realizing his cover as a 12-year-old girl has been blown. Or something.
“In any case,” Margulis says, leering at her, “you’d best be keeping yourself alive as long as possible. ‘He’ will be arriving soon.” Who? The “man” inside her? Ziggurat 8? Santa Claus? The girl glares right back at Margulis as he stalks out of the room. But once he’s gone, she cries for her “Mommy.” And that segues neatly to…