Marb woke with a throbbing headache. He felt sticky. A glutinous goo prevented Marb from opening his eyes but he could still hear. In the background an irritating synth-voice droned on about insurance contracts and exclusion clauses.
Gradually he remembered. He had just checked in for clone imprinting. "The Sensible Precaution" the brochures advertised. "Completely Painless" they said. The bastards hadn't mentioned that his head would feel like exploding when he woke.
Wait a minute. They had explained the process in some detail. "The subject remains awake throughout" they said. Why was he asleep? Why was he naked and covered in slime? Something must have gone wrong.
"The bastards! I'll sue them for every penny they've got" Marb thought. "There is no way I should be waking up covered in medical goo unless they screwed up or....
.....I am not the real Marb Pelico."
Realisation dawned: "I have his thoughts, I have his memories but I am not Marb Pelico"
"Marb Pelico is dead."
Much later a clone psych counsellor assessed Marb to determine his desire for revenge. Apparently it's a common enough reaction to want to jump straight back into a ship and get the bastards who podded you. The clone bank gets a lot of repeat business that way.
Marb thought about it. He didn't feel a particular need for vengeance. The Marb Pelico who died was a fool, a likeable fool but a fool. He went solo ratting in a low spec system where he knew there were active pirates. That Marb Pelico was a fool.
"I am not that Marb Pelico".