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chapter_6 [2009/12/11 18:18] (current)
doan created
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 +As soon as he activated the synchronised psychic teleport, he knew it had failed.
 +The first moment that he knew about it was when he saw the ship lurch dangerously close to one of the red-outlined ships and felt the echoing thud as he clipped one of them, also breaking its wing and sending it spinning out of control. The wild static of garbled teleport messages coursed across his mindscape, white chaos on a pure black tapestry.
 +
 +He should have been filled with mortal dread. A failed teleport was the thing most Dictory warriors feared most in the world. They had been conditioned from childhood to be cautious bordering upon paranoia around teleportation. In the academy, he had been shown grisly pictures of the victims of failed teleports, or what remained of them – caught halfway through a wall, redirected into the path of a moving vehicle or launched into an electrified field or, most disgustingly, out into space without a suit. It didn't have to be that dramatic – the two most horrific things he had seen were a teleport that had simply not worked – when the warrior had been surrounded in the middle of a battlefield – and one where the teleport had worked perfectly, but too much psychic power had been poured into it without a mind shield, resulting in psychic backlash that drove him into psychic insanity – a lesser version of what had caused him to become Giygas, but still the medics had been forced to euthanise him.
 +
 +However, the fear did not come. Only a surge of power. The taste and smell of rust on his tongue and a warm, tingling feeling between his cupped palms. He was in the middle of a storm – a wild, surging psychic storm. His ears and tail stood straight on end. He was floating, supported by several crosswinds. He felt like a God...
 +
 +Suddenly, he smacked straight into what felt like a brick wall. Except that brick walls didn't move and they didn't grab you by your ears and drag you along behind them. An indignant hiss escaped his lips. He tried to leap up into the air, using his tail as a pivot, backflip and curl his tail around his assailant's neck, snapping it, but he was moving too fast and ended up just launching himself off his feet so that they now dangled behind him in the wind.
 +
 +Then he stopped. The momentum sent him flying through the air, arms and legs flailing. He managed to right himself in mid air so that he would land hands and feet first. Then another figure jumped towards him, deftly caught him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him down to the ground. He heard a high-pitched hiss. A female Dictory hiss.
 +
 +“I'm sorry if I was a little rough with the parcel, ma'am. I assure you that it hasn't been damaged.”
 +
 +Another hiss.
 +
 +“What do you mean, this isn't what you ordered? It isn't my fault. I just grabbed the first one I found along the route. You know how these mail order husband services work. They never look like the one on the advert.”
 +
 +
 +Gyiiyg stared at the female who still held him firmly in her grip while arguing with the male Earth-human. She was taller than him and had an orange-yellow inflection to her skin. Skin colour varied among the Dictory race according to which continent on their planet they were from – it wasn't something Gyiiyg would particularly care about. What he did notice was that she was a fully grown adult female with a long, thick tail, vibrant, quivering ears, a radiant complexion and full curves in all the right places, and was wearing full ceremonial armour made of pure Meteotite, engraved with the circles, loops and whorls that were popular among the artists of the time – a fact that marked her as a high-ranking officer in the Dictory galactic force. It covered her vital spots but little else. Gyiiyg's people had mastered psychic shields that afforded protection from the elements long before humans invented clothes, and even an infant could summon a simple psychic shield to keep them warm, so they had never bothered with clothes. The look in her eyes was one of proud indignation.
 +
 +“If you require a refund, ma'am, I suggest you take it up with the agency you hired him from. Escargot Express is a third party delivery company, it has absolutely nothing to do with us, and I'm sure you've heard the phrase 'shooting the messenger' before...”
 +
 +She waved him away with a bony finger, “He is a healthy male. He will easily produce children. I will accept him as a mate. I have paid for him now and I will not waste my money.”
 +
 +“Um...” said the delivery man, sweating.
 +
 +“You may leave now.”
 +
 +A look of relief on his face, the man darted off as fast as his impossible speed could carry him. The female turned her head and regarded him as though appraising goods on a market stall.
 +
 +“I am Gayzaq Ga-Ga, Commander of the Imperial Guard. Who might you be?” she telepathically communicated to him.
 +
 +Gyiiyg pricked up his ears, his tail twitching spasmodically. He hadn't expected her to be THAT high ranking! The Imperial Guard literally acted as personal bodyguards  for the Emperor or Empress, and were only selected from the most gifted of the elite military units, those who had proven themselves time and time again in battle, who showed discipline and dedication as well as ferocity in battle. Gyiiyg had never met someone that high ranking in his life – he was only the lowest of commanding officers, and flawed at that – his physical frailty and his background of volunteering for experiments with unknown results (he had to do SOMETHING to pay his way through the Academy...) were barriers to his promotion prospects. That was why he was stuck invading backwater planets like Earth instead of high-profile worlds like Saturn. He had presumably been taught how to address an Imperial Guardswoman in a formal situation somewhere in his training but it was lost in the twisted red haze of things he couldn't remember since being strapped to that damn Machine. Furthermore, he was pretty sure he had never been taught the correct response to being posted in the mail to someone who wanted his children.
 +
 +“Well? You have failed to respond to my question. Furthermore, your telepathic signature is irregular. Are you in some kind of distress? Maybe you do not wish to be my mate. I cannot legally compel you to comply.”
 +
 +“I...” he could feel the static building up around his aura again, smell the stench of rust, see the tinge of red around the edges. No, he told himself, I will not return to that place! “I am Captain Gyiiyg Gynoug of the 255th Galactic Fleet. I apologise for my impetuousness. I am recovering from wounds in battle and the trauma has affected me psychologically.”
 +
 +“Let me tend to your physical and mental wounds. I have no small degree of medical training.” she assured him. Battlefield medics on Dictory were psychiatrists as well – most combat psychics could function perfectly well if an arm or two were lopped off but if they were shellshocked from the experience, they were worse than useless. Regardless of this, he shook his head.
 +
 +“I will recover in time and I would not be a drain on your valuable mental resources.” he promised,  pulling his tail between his legs in a show of extreme deference, “I apologise for the inconvenience I have caused you. I am afraid I cannot be your mate. I would not be able to stay with you and raise the children. The mission I am currently on is not over and I do not know how far I will have to travel to complete it.”
 +
 +“Fascinating.” her tail thrashed from side to side in genuine amused interest, “Could you give me the specifics of this mission?”
 +
 +“I... am not sure if I should let others become involved.” he said.
 +
 +“I have the authority to request the second highest level security information on the Imperial databases.”
 +
 +“It is not a matter of security. I do not wish you to be involved. I do not know how safe we are.”
 +
 +“I can handle myself.” Without so much as a flicker of strain in her posture, she sent out a psychokinetic signal and summoned a mono-atomic glaive to her left hand. She whirled it around in a complex formation, then let go of it and telekinetically manipulated it into a wispy floating dance of death that whirled around her like a diamond wall of blades, dipping in and out of impossible angles, like some kind of theatre performance except that none of it was an illusion, “Furthermore, we will not be attacked. My residence is in the very centre of the Imperial Capital. It is the most secure place on the planet. If I am not secure, the Emperor is not secure.”
 +
 +“Then I am... on my home world?”
 +
 +She nodded, “Where did you expect to be?”
 +
 +“I... do not know. My teleport failed...”
 +
 +“Then I should check you over for particle integrity irregularities.” she told him, her voice deadly serious, her eyes utterly focussed on him. Transferring her weapon to her off-hand, she raised her left hand towards him. He felt a sensation like a wave of pure white noise that filled all seven of his senses, a warm feeling that relaxed every muscle in his body and every over-firing synapse in his mind. He had experienced the calming wave before, a kind of psychic anaesthetic like a very low level PK Hypnosis designed to calm him enough for a medic to get through his shields enough to treat him intensively. It didn't work that well on him – it just didn't on some Dictory, especially those who relied almost completely on shields for their continued existence as he did – but this female had him completely in her grasp almost instantly. He could feel the strength of her mind like a vice. There was no use resisting now anyway – she had already begun methodically telekinetically vivisecting him particle by particle. He watched this impartially – he realised that she was technically in the right – with such a long range teleport, completely uncontrolled, there were countless subatomic injuries he could have done himself resulting in anything from partial quantum nonlocality to cancerous gluons. She nodded and mentally ticked a row off every time she completed one – he could actually see  her thought process through the unsubtly weak shield – she definitely still wanted him as a mate – and she seemed to think of his subatomic structure as some kind of variant on a game of Tetris.
 +
 +Then, suddenly, she swore as she hit a decidedly unpleasant snarl, red raw and splaying at illogical angles at a fractal level. He braced himself for the pain five nanoseconds before being hit by an Omega-level version of the technique she had used on him before. This one felt like an express train by comparison.
 +
 +//Darkness...
 +//
 +
 +//Gayzaq's singing... soothing... warm...//
 +
 +//If you see a swirl//
 +
 +//That looks like a girl//
 +
 +//And it is red//
 +
 +//And you wish you were dead//
 +
 +//Do not worry;//
 +
 +//Sing this happy song//
 +
 +//And when you're finished//
 +
 +//You will find it is gone, is gone//
 +
 +Gyiiyg gave the psychic equivalent of a feral scream with enough force to knock Gayzaq physically across the room. She backflipped and landed in a martial pose, her weapon at the ready. His eyes blazed crimson.
 +
 +“DO... NOT... SING... THAT... SONG!” he screamed.
 +
 +“What song?” she asked, twitching her ears, “Behind the door is a threat?”
 +
 +Gyiiyg whirled around. He had not noticed the knock on the door. He walked over to open it, then recoiled. He was about to slam it again when a slim metallic foot held it open.
 +
 +“Gyiiyg Gynoug, you are wanted for intergalactic crimes  against the Starman Nation. In addition, you have resisted arrest and slain our troops in the process, an act that will exacerbate your punishment. If you do not step down immediately, you WILL be disintegrated!”
 +
 +“Do not threaten my mate!” roared Gayzaq, pulling him out of the way and facing the Starman with the deep aquamarine glow, her teeth bared.
 +
 +“You are Commander Gayzaq of the Imperial Guard, are you not?” asked the Starman, “An Imperial Guardswoman obeys their superiors. I am Starman Alpha. I equivalently outrank you. What is more, the Imperial Guard has already agreed to aid us in the search for the rogue Dictory warrior known as Gyiiyg Gynoug... or more properly... Giygas, the Universal Cosmic Destroyer!”
 +
 +A stab of pain as the memories returned to him like a knife buried deep within his temporal lobe... no, Ness, turn back... Ness Ness Ness Ness Ness Ness Ness... friends... I feel...
 +
 +No, you must NOT remember it! Not directly! To remember it is to invite it in, invite it too close to you again, to let it consume you again. Patience...
 +
 +“Is this true, Gyiiyg? Are you a wanted vigilante?”
 +
 +“No... not any more... I am not Giygas... I am...”
 +
 +A skeletal smile crept over his face.
 +
 +“I am Gyiiyg Gynoug of Dictory, and I am...”
 +
 +A brilliant white light, coruscating through him, purifying his very essence, consuming all that was corrupt, an all-pervading, deafening, infinitely harmonic miracle wave. His ever-staring, all-seeing eyes that had lingered there to witness, a child eavesdropping on what he should see, now peered through two X-shapes in the endlessly, impossibly twisting shell, the stairway to nirvana, and the peak of that mountain stood... her. Dancing in her white shift to the music.
 +
 +“I AM THE FOURTH SAVIOR!” his voice reverberated through the heavens, a cosmic tidal wave of sound, a crescendo loud enough to drown out every psychic on Dictory if they all used an Omega-level Brainshock at the same time.
 +
 +Only a dual note, but it was enough to shake loose...
 +
 +The Cliff that Time Forgot had been remembered.
 +
 +Both horns were in existence at once.
 +
 +And both sides of the song were joined together in perfect harmony.
 +
 +At that moment, the standstill lifted. Life, sound, music, not in a memory but truly there, began to flow into the void where nothing had been.
 +
 +And a pair of eyes flickered open, just for a second.
 
chapter_6.txt · Last modified: 2009/12/11 18:18 by doan
 
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