In a 'Traveller' style space opera

"Who is she?"

Samantha hears the voice, but for some reason can't open her eyes. In fact none of her muscles respond to any of her attempts of control.

"I don't know. She was found in the corner of a nearby transit station dressed in rimmer clothing."

"What do you mean 'You don't know?' What does her IP say?" The speaker is female, with an accent that she does not recognize. It is slightly nasally with a faint distortion of the vowels, not unpleasant but odd all the same.

"That's just it Jannelle, she doesn't have one." The other voice is a man's rich baritone with a similar accent, his diction is precise and lacks the nasal undertones but the vowels have the same distortion as the woman's.

"Someone removed her chip Doctor?" Samantha isn't sure but the woman sounds irritated. Was she in a hospital? The scent of antiseptic cleaners and sounds of electronic beeps and buzzes would support that hypothesis. Samantha concentrates again on opening her eyes so she can see what this doctor looks like. She still she can't move at all, not even a twitch of a finger or a tightening of her lips. For that matter even her breathing is beyond her control. She can feel her chest rising and falling on its own and nothing she does changes the slow steady pace of her breathing.

"No Jannelle, she never had one to begin with.” Unlike the frustration she could hear in the young woman's voice, the doctor's tone is calm and soothing. "That's why my friend thought I'd be interested in her."

"She never had one to begin with." The woman repeats in confusion, "How can that be?"

Samantha struggles to follow the conversation. The words were easily understood but nothing the two were saying made sense. Her inability to move was equally bewildering, had she been in an accident? Was she paralyzed? If so she shouldn't be able to feel the firm support of the contoured surface beneath her or the pressure of the heavy bags on her chest.

"Run a full DNA analysis." The Doctor's voice calms her rising panic. "She must be from some newly discovered far-rim planet; either that or possibly something created in one of those damn black-market AL labs. She certainly looks like a million credit sex toy, but I've never seen a clone whose brain waves patterns look so multifaceted. If she is an artificial life, we'd better contact IS-8, they'll want to know about this new model before it hits the streets."

If Samantha thought she was confused before, the doctor's last words convince her that she is hallucinating. Talk of planets, cloning and her as a sex toy - this is the weirdest dream she has ever had.

"OK Janelle, I think we're done here for now. Put her back on stas-level 2 for the night, we'll get her lab reports in the morning and see if any of this makes sense. Do you have plans for ..." The two voices move away and suddenly her eyes can open. Too late to see either of the speakers but at least she now sees some of where she is. It does look like a hospital room but not quite like any hospital she can remember. Sophisticated monitors hang above her head with multiple displays only some of which look familiar and the top of a high tech IV stand to her left.

Samantha tries to move again, but still has almost no control of her body. After a little experimentation she finds she can now blink, lick her lips (which feel swollen somehow) and control her own breathing. She also realizes with a start that she is completely naked as she lies immobile on the surprisingly comfortable hospital bed.

Only the muted sounds of people moving about their work and the occasional intercom announcement provide any more sensory input for her to consider. After what seems like a long time the lights in her room dim and what little noise there was fades to almost nothing.