Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“How did you ever get caught by those aliens that experimented on you if you can do that?”
“I can’t do that. The ship can. It’s a technology. I am limited by my physical form as much as anyone is. I’m not a god, pet.”
“May as well be,” I mutter under my breath.
I don’t know enough about these people to know if he was right to eliminate them. It didn’t feel fair or sporting, but what if they’re super ultra evil? I have never felt more like a pet. I am stuck in a world I don’t entirely understand, watching things happen that don’t make sense to me.
“I care for you,” he says. “I’m going to make sure no harm comes to you. Do you understand?”
“Or you will disappear me,” I say.
“Never,” he promises. “You will never be harmed. Ever.”
The more he says that, the more I think I might be harmed at some point. Funny how that works.
* * *
Freak
She is afraid of me. I can feel her fear between us like a barrier. She couldn’t stop me if I wanted to touch her. She knows how helpless she is when it comes to me, but she never saw me as dangerous before. Or as in command as I was, either. I wonder which of the two was more disturbing to her.
I wonder if I shouldn’t let her sit with it. She can come to terms with my true nature and learn that she will be cared for regardless of how dangerous I may be. Nothing about me has changed, only her perception.
“How many people have you… disappeared?” She asks the question with a good amount of horror hidden in the tremor of the words.
“A great many,” I tell her. “All in service of protecting the best possible outcome. We are working toward peace at all times.”
“Nothing is more peaceful than erasing bad guys,” she says.
“Yes,” I agree, even though I am sure she is being sarcastic. “Nothing.”
She nods. Then she says nothing more. I can feel her thoughts roiling in her skull, but there are too many of them to pick out in this moment, and I do try to give her some privacy in her mind when she is agitated.
* * *
My pet is remarkably well behaved for the next few days, though quieter than I like. We have much to do in the name of Alara and the Psyon Empire. My rage, which felt as though it was dormant in the aftermath of my escape, is flaring.
They came for me.
They captured me.
I will remove every hint of them from every timeline.
I keep her well away from the tactical zones. Her response to seeing our powers unleashed was disturbed, and I do not want her to fear me more than she does. I want to protect her from everything, including the reality of who and what I am.
The war is beginning to intensify. We are one vessel among many acting in a widespread mesh. Our main goal is to achieve peace, but it is impossible to do that without some losses.
“Tasin, they’re approaching us,” Aric says.
“Who is they?” I turn, slightly annoyed that he is being vague. We are on a war footing. I need specific information, delivered directly.
“On screen,” he says.
I turn toward the screen.
The ship approaching me bears the crest of the Datari Composite. The very same creatures who captured me, confined me, and ran their experiments on me. Upon seeing them, I feel myself go cold all the way to my core. I lose myself in that moment in the most fundamental of ways. I become controlled not by my own thoughts and values, but by the single-minded desire for revenge.
I go to Drak’s panel, and I launch an erasure missile. Usually I’d give an order. This time, I want to be the one who pushes the button.
It fires into the depths of space, heading directly for their vessel. I wait for it to disappear. There’s a particular excitement in firing this missile. I don’t know who was on that ship, but all DC war ships are fair game to me now. I will remove each and every one of them I find.
The missile completes its journey. In a millisecond, space will be empty of another set of evil bastards who believe in control at any cost, who are certain the end justifies any means, and who made my life in particular a living hell.
But the ship persists.
The missile stops, but the vessel remains.
We look at one another, Aric, Drak, Fidas, and I.
“Fuck,” Fidas says.
It’s an apt response. Something just interrupted our main weapon, and I’d like to know what.
“Did they manage to engineer something to deflect nonexistence? Is that even possible?” Aric starts theorizing immediately.
A chuckle comes over our speakers. They shouldn’t be active, and there shouldn’t be a voice to speak to them. A lot of strange things are happening all at once.