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Authors: Jon Messenger
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anger, his psionic energy had become dangerous to everyone around him.
As he pondered this shift in domination, his power slowly receded until nothing of its uncontrolled self remained visible. Yen that stood in the room, alone and exhausted. Rushing into the bathroom, he felt the bile rush up his throat and collapsed in front of the toilet just in time to vomit violently. His abdomen clenching tightly, he emptied his stomach and he was only able to dry heave. When Yen finally felt stable enough to stand once again, he absently flushed the toilet and stood before the sink, splashing water on his face and washing out the bitter taste from his mouth. The psychic glanced at the mirror and frowned at his own appearance. His yellowed skin looked pale and sickly in the bathroom light. Bruises had spread beneath his dark, ink colored eyes, which had sunk into his face leaving the impression of a skull. Even his dark hair had lost its sheen and hung flat around his face. He looked like a broken remnant of the man who had once prided himself on his appearance.
Disgusted, Yen left the bathroom and returned to the main room of his cabin. Unlike most crewmembers who cooked, entertained and slept in a single room Yen’s station as squadron commander afforded him a suite. His main room held a dining table and kitchen, and he had a separate sleeping room with a private bathroom. Pulling a glass from the cupboard and pouring himself something strong to drink, Yen drained his glass quickly. He enjoyed the burning sensation that washed the bile from the back of his throat. The drink sat heavily on his empty stomach, but he didn’t care as he poured himself a second. The burning alcohol temporarily washed away the concerns that began creeping into him mind once more, questions of how long he could maintain control of a power that yearned to be set free.
Yen poured himself a third, fourth, and eventually a fifth strong glass of liquor before he realized his mind was too cloudy to consider any complex questions, much less restrain a wayward psychic power. Staggering to his bed, he collapsed into its inviting covers. He no longer cared enough about sleeping in his clothes. It was a concern that he filed away for future contemplation.
As Yen slipped fully into sleep, he didn’t notice the last of the ships dock, nor did he notice the announcement that blared through the ship, warning of impending departure from Earth’s orbit. Solidly asleep, he groaned only slightly while shifting positions as the Revolution steadily increased gravity as it sped toward Arcendor and battle with the Terran Fleet.
CHAPTER 7:
Adam adjusted the thick straps that held Cardax to the metal chair, which had, in turn, been bolted to the floor to ensure no chance of the large Oterian escaping. Cardax’s head rolled limply, the smuggler still unconscious from the sedative that had been pumped through his system at the bar. Though the amount of sedative had been excessive, all three members of the strike force were glad to have the extra time to finish preparing the room.
Penchant opened his backpack in the corner, removing a spray can and moving toward the single small window in the room. Spraying thick foam over the window, the room was suddenly cast into darkness, save a small, exposed bulb that hung from the room’s center. Aside from blocking out the light and prying eyes, the foam was an effective sound insulator. Though Cardax was guaranteed to make an exceptional amount of noise, his yells wouldn’t carry beyond the small room.
Keryn, meanwhile, hooked a thick cloth through Cardax’s loose jaws and tied it behind his head, forming both a gag for his impending screams and a muzzle, should he chose to try to bite a member of the team. With the gag fixed in place, she attached two soft rubber stoppers to his horns, making their tips padded and relatively harmless.
As he pondered this shift in domination, his power slowly receded until nothing of its uncontrolled self remained visible. Yen that stood in the room, alone and exhausted. Rushing into the bathroom, he felt the bile rush up his throat and collapsed in front of the toilet just in time to vomit violently. His abdomen clenching tightly, he emptied his stomach and he was only able to dry heave. When Yen finally felt stable enough to stand once again, he absently flushed the toilet and stood before the sink, splashing water on his face and washing out the bitter taste from his mouth. The psychic glanced at the mirror and frowned at his own appearance. His yellowed skin looked pale and sickly in the bathroom light. Bruises had spread beneath his dark, ink colored eyes, which had sunk into his face leaving the impression of a skull. Even his dark hair had lost its sheen and hung flat around his face. He looked like a broken remnant of the man who had once prided himself on his appearance.
Disgusted, Yen left the bathroom and returned to the main room of his cabin. Unlike most crewmembers who cooked, entertained and slept in a single room Yen’s station as squadron commander afforded him a suite. His main room held a dining table and kitchen, and he had a separate sleeping room with a private bathroom. Pulling a glass from the cupboard and pouring himself something strong to drink, Yen drained his glass quickly. He enjoyed the burning sensation that washed the bile from the back of his throat. The drink sat heavily on his empty stomach, but he didn’t care as he poured himself a second. The burning alcohol temporarily washed away the concerns that began creeping into him mind once more, questions of how long he could maintain control of a power that yearned to be set free.
Yen poured himself a third, fourth, and eventually a fifth strong glass of liquor before he realized his mind was too cloudy to consider any complex questions, much less restrain a wayward psychic power. Staggering to his bed, he collapsed into its inviting covers. He no longer cared enough about sleeping in his clothes. It was a concern that he filed away for future contemplation.
As Yen slipped fully into sleep, he didn’t notice the last of the ships dock, nor did he notice the announcement that blared through the ship, warning of impending departure from Earth’s orbit. Solidly asleep, he groaned only slightly while shifting positions as the Revolution steadily increased gravity as it sped toward Arcendor and battle with the Terran Fleet.
CHAPTER 7:
Adam adjusted the thick straps that held Cardax to the metal chair, which had, in turn, been bolted to the floor to ensure no chance of the large Oterian escaping. Cardax’s head rolled limply, the smuggler still unconscious from the sedative that had been pumped through his system at the bar. Though the amount of sedative had been excessive, all three members of the strike force were glad to have the extra time to finish preparing the room.
Penchant opened his backpack in the corner, removing a spray can and moving toward the single small window in the room. Spraying thick foam over the window, the room was suddenly cast into darkness, save a small, exposed bulb that hung from the room’s center. Aside from blocking out the light and prying eyes, the foam was an effective sound insulator. Though Cardax was guaranteed to make an exceptional amount of noise, his yells wouldn’t carry beyond the small room.
Keryn, meanwhile, hooked a thick cloth through Cardax’s loose jaws and tied it behind his head, forming both a gag for his impending screams and a muzzle, should he chose to try to bite a member of the team. With the gag fixed in place, she attached two soft rubber stoppers to his horns, making their tips padded and relatively harmless.
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