He fell hand first and only then he noticed that he was wearing a space suit too. Also his hands, all four of them, had three fingers each.
WHAT! THE! ACTUAL! F**K!
Chapter 5: Collateral Damage
After much screaming and freaking out, Derek finally regained his composure and started to analyse his current predicament.
The first thing that caught his eye was a huge hole in the space suit at the chest level. The contours of the hole had burn marks all over it and there was a lot of purple jelly on both his suit and the dead bodies.
That meant the purple jelly was coagulated alien blood. Derek turned his head to see the spot where he had woken up noticing a lot of blood and even something that he found safe to assume were some kind of splattered viscera.
"This makes no sense." He thought. "All the evidence points to the fact that this body was as dead as Julius Caesar until I somehow happened to inhabit it. For whatever reason, it's also fully healed. Oh man, this means all religions are dead wrong! Luckily I never believed in any mumbo jumbo, otherwise I would be really disappointed right now." -
Derek then proceeded to examine his new body. It had four arms and two legs but all the limbs were long and skinny. The legs were reverse jointed like those of a cat. Both hands and feet only had three fingers each.
Derek was really curious about his facial features, but there was no reflective surface in sight. So he tried feeling his face with the fingers, but the suit apparently came with a helmet which somehow did not impede his senses at all.
The only thing he could determine was the shape of the helmet and based on it, he found out that his new head was something similar to a shark's dorsal fin.
Then he tried to speak. "Test, test. Derek McCoy. One, two, three." He could somehow do it, but it was still English. That meant that he didn't inherit either the muscle memory nor the intellect from the body's previous owner.
Derek tried getting up, but the centre of gravity was too different from his old body, so he had to give up and instead crawl like a baby.
So, he started examining the corpses to make heads or tails of what was happening around him. Judging from the suits, there were two factions at war.
One had a red coloured space suit, and the other, which Derek was wearing, was grey. He had no idea which side was winning, but it would not make any difference to him anyway.
Unless the suit was equipped with a universal translator, he was incapable of communicating. Enemies would kill him on sight. Allies would probably ditch him like garbage.
"Who would ever want a rambling idiot incapable even of walking during a life or death situation? I'm not even here for a day and I am already as good as dead." - He thought.
Refusing to give up, Derek managed to get up by leaning on the walls and started exploring.
The corridor had many doors, yet his choices were painfully limited, since he could only go through the open ones.
Derek had no idea how to open the doors nor how to operate the control panels that he found along the way. He tried pushing buttons at random but nothing happened.
And he was starting to get hungry.
"Will I die like this? Starving in a goddamned space ship, alien planet, or whatever the f**k this is? I don't know what this useless pile of flesh eats! Even if I stumble on a mountain of food, I have no way to know what is what. Even if I did, I do not know how the heck to remove this helmet." -
After walking for several hours, hunger and frustration drove him to hysteria. Derek screamed and kicked whatever was within reach until exhaustion made him fall asleep.
When he woke up, his mind was clear again.
"This is a nightmare. I am all out of options to the point that even if I wanted to kill myself, I would not know how." He banged the back of his head against the wall to keep frustration at bay.
I never thought about this, but being reborn in a sci-fi environment is truly the worst-case scenario. Alien body, alien customs, complete lack of the new species common sense and to make things worse, everything here is so high-tech that I cannot even operate a door. Heck, every god damn button could be tagged and it would still be useless to me since I don't know their language. -
His hunger was rising and he was feeling weaker by the hour. Having no time to lose, he started wandering again. This time he banged and screamed at every door he met, trying to draw some attention.
Derek was on the verge of fainting again due to hunger and exhaustion when finally a door opened up.
The shock was great enough for him to lose his grip and fall to the ground. On the other side there were grey suited aliens in a wedge formation.
Every one of them was holding some kind of long metal staff as if it were a rifle. Derek didn't even attempt to get up, he just waved a right hand, hoping it was a sign of peace.
"Captain! That's Xa'rk! His life signal coming back online wasn't a glitch in the system, he is still alive." (from this point onward * means words that Derek does not understand)
The formation opened and a taller and bulkier alien closed in. The soldiers never lowered their weapons nor lost focus, waiting for the attack order.
"What are you doing on the floor, soldier? And how in Thrak's name did you survive that ambush?" The captain asked with a coarse voice.
Dude, I have no idea what you just said.
"What is he rambling?"
"It's not any dialect in the empire."
"Medic, any reading on that blaster wound?"
A purple dressed alien walked forward while scanning Derek's body. "None, sir. The scanner confirms that the hole in his armour is definitely from a Corellan blaster. I have no idea how he survived it unscathed. It's a miracle."
"It's a liability." The captain's tone was grim. He took a staff from a soldier's hands and by pushing a button, it became a glaive whose blade was made of pure energy.
"Well, seems that I'm going to die from a lightsaber. It's cool, one hit and I'll be turned into dandruff. Lucky me, another painless death incoming." -
When the captain plunged the glaive into Derek's chest, it did not make any burning sound. It pierced him from side to side, bleeding him to death.
The blade was not a laser-based weapon, but a hard-light construct, making it no different from an ordinary glaive.
"Listen up, soldiers. Xa'rk was a good soldier and we will remember and mourn him as such, when and if we get out of this alive, but that thing, whatever it is, is a risk we cannot afford to take. Not with Prince Rek'hart in our care and those Corellan rebel scum still at large. Better some collateral damage than a spy among our ranks. Now shut that door and check the perimeter again."
This time, death was far from painless for Derek. He felt like his chest was on fire, but what really hurt wasn't the wound but rather his lungs.
Derek was struggling to breathe. Every breath was shallower and more difficult than the last. Blood started gurgling from his mouth, and he felt like he was slowly drowning.
His throat kept contracting, trying to draw in air, but to no avail. It took Derek less than a minute to die, but for him it seemed to last forever.
Once again, he found himself basked in blinding light and pulled towards it. Just like the last time, he felt all his worries and rage fading, but instead of enjoying the feeling he was simply annoyed.
Derek had never believed in any god, hence he never believed in heaven or hell.
"Humankind has always been a terrible race." He thought. "It's impossible to define someone as truly bad. Most of the time the bad guys are simply people who never got a chance to be anything but criminals.
"Then there are people, like me, whom life had pushed and pushed until they broke. Not to mention psycho and sociopaths. How could someone that is born bad be sent to hell simply because his head is malfunctioning?
Hence, I have always believed that either there was an afterlife for everyone or no afterlife at all. Death is supposed to be the final spirit level, good or bad, rich or poor,
the destination has to be the same."
"Instead I got this cheap excuse of reincarnation screwing with me.
What purpose could being reborn possibly have if I retain all of my memories?
Whatever body or planet I would end up in, I would still carry my baggage, so once outside the light all my pain, rage and contempt toward humankind would prevent me from learning whatever lesson I am supposed to learn!"
Inside that otherworldly space, he had the clarity to see that his psychologist was only half right. He could only change if he wanted to, but because of all his past experiences he had no will to.
It was a perfect example of a catch-22 paradox.
Suddenly, he was pulled downwards and away from the light.
His vision was a blur, but he could still hear a lot of commotion around him.
Giant hands were holding him still while he was puking god knows what, and judging from the breeze on his buttcheeks he was naked.
"I don't know what the heck is going on," he thought, "but I bet I am in deep sh*t again."
When Derek was finally able to see again, he discovered that the hands were not gigantic, the issue was him being very small creature. A baby, to be precise.
"He is alive! I did it! I managed to save your boy's life."
A further inspection revealed that said hands belonged to some gibberish-rambling old hag. Derek was currently inside a wooden shack, surrounded by people dressed with rags that could be called clothes only if they were part of a 1000 AD themed renaissance fair.
Man, I hate always being right!
Chapter 6: A New Beginning
"He is alive! I did it! I managed to save your boy's life." (please, remember that * means words that Derek is not capable of understanding.)
After the midwife triumphantly said those words, the room exploded in cheers and tears of joy. The people in the room were hugging each other and the mother in turns.
Meanwhile, Derek lied limp in the midwife's arms, looking left and right trying to determine how bad his current situation was.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? The bedridden woman is clearly this body's mother. She definitely needs a bath." After delivery, the sheets were stained with blood, urine and feces.
The crying, rough looking man should be the father. I wonder if he is crying for my sake or just because he was afraid of losing his wife. I bet the second one. Then I have a bigger brother or a sister. This is bad. -
Suddenly another woman entered the bedroom bringing with her a little boy and a girl that raced to the bedridden woman.
"Oh dammit! This is even worse than I thought. So far I have only two possible choices. Option one, grow into this large family, fighting every day for the few available resources. Malnourishment is most definitely a given. Then, when I am old enough, I would be forced to work with father and brothers, to get married, have children, etcetera. Option two, wait until I am tall enough to grab sharp objects, put me out of my misery and take another spin hoping for a better outcome. I think I'll go with option number two." -
Meanwhile the room had become silent. The midwife had already finished cleaning the newborn and wrapping him up in a clean cloth. During all this time Derek neither moved nor cried.
"Nana, what's wrong with the baby? Why is he not crying? It has never happened before!" The mother was worried, and ignoring the pain and trying to get up.
"Shush child! Don't you dare move. I still have to heal you." The midwife's tone did not leave space for reply. "I've delivered dozens of children. A silent one is rare but nothing special. Do you want to see how strong he is? There you go!"
She unwrapped him from the cloth, and while holding him gently gave a little spanking, to force him to cry.
Derek grunted a little, while staring at her in dismay.
"Want to play rough, old hag?" He thought. "Fine! You just triggered my trap card! Twin Flood, activate!" - And out of the blue he relieved both his bowels and bladder.
The backdoor attackers splattered all over her feet, while the front door flood struck her on the face and chest.
Derek started giggling loudly.
"Well, this wasn't exactly what I was expecting, but as you can hear for yourself, this little imp is breathing just fine." The midwife handed the baby to another woman to clean him.
Derek kept giggling, proud of his work. After washing her face with warm water and a cloth, the old hag moved her left index finger drawing a circle in the air, striking it through in the middle from right to left. Then she pronounced a single word.
Ekidu!
A black energy manifested on her fingertip. She proceeded to point it over her wet dress and then over her shoes. The smell of feces and urine suddenly disappeared and so did their source.
With his mouth agape in shock, Derek watched as his poop dried and crumbled, turning into dust. It was akin to watching one of those fast-forwarded videos where in one minute you could see a seed becoming a flower.
"Heisenberg's beard! She is not just an old midwife! She is a real magician, in the flesh! I have never been so happy in my whole three lives to be dead wrong!" -
Derek was ecstatic, and not only because this world had magic, but also because as soon as he heard the word Ekidu, he had felt something clicking inside of him.
Like if something deep inside of him had started taking root, and suddenly had become ingrained in the very fabric of his new reality.
He started obsessively repeating the magic word in his mind, and tried to engrave in his memory every detail of the circular finger movement.
"Now that I'm clean let me stop that bleeding, dear." The healer approached the mother and placed her hands above her nether regions.
"Is it time for another magic? Show me, please!" Derek begged in his mind. -
Nana first spread her fingers wide then started to move both arms in a circular motion, first up over her head. Then opened her arms as much as she could before joining her hands, palm against backhand, at her navel's height.
Vinire Lakhat!
Derek, all wrapped up, tried to mimic all her movements, step after step, memorizing every single detail he could grasp, no matter how small.
A sphere of light enveloped Derek's mother's lower body and she quickly recovered her complexion. The pale skin reverted to a healthy pink, while all the traces of pain and fatigue disappeared from her face.
Once again, something clicked inside him. After the dark magic, he could clearly feel that simply by hearing the power word, a connection had been established between him and light magic. Derek could not stop grinning.
"If, and I say if I have enough magical talent, it would mean there is actually a third hidden option." He thought. "I can become a magician and live free for the first time in my life! No shackles, no responsibilities! But it's better not to get overenthusiastic. With my luck I could just have poor talent orâ¦" -
His reasoning was abruptly interrupted, because the woman that had held him until that moment was handing him to his mother.
"Nana, are you sure he is all right? He has yet to cry, or giggle. He is too quiet. With all that has happened, I am really afraid something is wrong with him."
After those words, the noisy room turned gloomy. Afraid that he was somewhat responsible, and quite eager to explore option number three, Derek did his best baby impression, giggling, smiling and doing raspberry sounds.
Nana felt her professional pride hurt by such allegations, but it wasn't her first time with an anxious mother.
She knew Elina since she was still a child, and had delivered all her babies. Nana could not deny that this delivery had been one of the most difficult in her career.
The labour had lasted hours and she had been forced to cast healing spells multiple times to stop the bleeding. When she finally could see the baby's head, she knew something was wrong.
Elina was fighting with all her strength but the baby was limp. So, she had rushed and used her hands to pull out the baby as fast as po
ssible, only to discover that he was being strangled by his own umbilical cord.
After cutting and removing it, she had tried all her best spells, but to no avail. For a whole terrible minute, Nana had believed the child was lost.
But then the healing light had finally activated, forcing the baby to puke, clearing his airway. Then and only then Nana could afford the luxury of relaxing.
Healing magic was no miracle. It could enhance the life force of the patient making it easier to recover from an illness or healing from an injury but it could not create life.
Nana was sensitive, so she understood that Elina didn't need a lesson about magic, she just wanted to be reassured about her child's health.
"Worry not, my child. I can prove it to you that all is well."
With a warm smile, she caressed Elina's cheek and took Derek from her arms, removing the cloth like she was revealing a treasure.
Nana carefully adjusted Derek in the crook of her left arm, then she circled her open right hand all around him and said:
Vinire Rad Tu!
A small wisp of light came out of her palm, dancing around the baby before penetrating his chest.
The light spread from head to toe, making him emit a dim light.
"See? If there was even a scratch on his body my injury detecting spell would leave that area bleak. Your little sun is fine."
The energy flowing through his body was making Derek feel empowered. In his old life he had felt like that only a few times.
When he got his degrees, when he finally abandoned his parent's home, when he beat up the bullies. But all those times it had been a fleeting emotion, lasting a few seconds at best.
Now it was different, it wasn't just adrenaline. Real magic, real power was coursing through every fiber of his being, making him feel invincible.
So, when the spell started fading away, he could not accept that.
Fight for a Living Page 3