Star Chaser- The Traveler

by Reiter

  “Of all the crowbars this group packs, the Mental Arts kind of slipped through the cracks,” BJ explained. “Oh, don’t think you could just walk into one of their minds, though. Strong personal defenses and willpower we got coming out of the wazoo! But after the master molds lost their dear Old Friend, psyoniks and all things ThoughtWill were left to Arrjeeh and his Gem MajiKs. This little wonder is just a probe, and it won’t hurt so long as you don’t lie or try to block it. We can move this along if you let me put this on your forehead.”

  “Did you say ‘let’?” Dungias asked. “Are you trying to imply I have some sort of choice in the matter? This doesn’t feel like much of a choice.”

  “You can either say yes to the probe or we go back to those little stings,” BJ said. “I give you my word, so long as you’re honest, you’ll barely feel this thing.”

  Dungias nodded as he closed his eyes, finally starting to feel his legs again. “Then proceed.”

  “No problem,” BJ said, tapping the red crystal, causing it to spark for a moment before it crumbled around him and into the floor. Dungias started to fall forward on his hands and knees but BJ was much stronger than his frame suggested.

  “You are strong.”

  “And that is about the only thing I have over the master mold, JoBe,” he said with a smile.

  “I thank you,” Dungias panted before a blue-white light cascaded over his body. The sensation of the iro-form made him lock up as the coolness worked its way through his bones. He gasped as the muscle fatigue was removed from his body along with all the dizziness he had been feeling. He was invigorated and completely refreshed. He looked over at BJ who was pocketing the small blue gem that had just lost its glow. “And I would presume that gem is put into action more than any other in your arsenal.”

  “Considering it works on our bodies too,” BJ said with a wink. “Not to the same amplitudes, but it beats a blank. And it was your willingness to be probed that sealed the deal for me. My master mold is a noted judge of character, but it was all natural instinct with him, and a little difficult for even Zeu’s spell to replicate. But no harm or foul, right? It was the Vinthur that were into spells and the like anyway.”

  “But of course,” Dungias said in agreement.

  “So what bill of goods did Beta-Elder sell you?” BJ asked, shaking his head. “He’s still a powerhouse of the group, but, as I said before, his muscle development stops at the neck. Thinks we just got here.”

  “And your grasp of time, BJ?”

  “Well, maybe there’s a bit of the master mold in me after all,” BJ replied. “That voice had a mite of desperation in it… and I think I can understand where it’s coming from.”

  Dungias was not embarrassed in the least and stepped closer to BJ. “Then I would be most appreciative if you could include how much time has passed since you were made, as I am informed about these Malgovi that attacked you.”

  “Ugh!” BJ sighed in disgust. “Let me guess, Beta-Elder said these raiders just came through and I’m still interrogating them.”

  Dungias lowered his chin to his chest and sighed himself. “And you have been done now for quite some time, have you not?”

  “Your people don’t have a word for the amount of time that has passed since I spoke to those daring and dying fools.” Dungias’ eyes shut tightly together at the sting of the truth. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t place what I could keep of them inside a holding gem!”

  “What?!”

  “Like I said, our Old Friend was the cornerstone of the applied Mental Arts,” BJ said with a very bright smile. “… but once you’ve seen him operate once or twice, you get a feel for possible applications and methodologies. I can’t preserve life, but as far as their minds know, they’re still in their bodies and just got the crap kicked out of them!”

  “BJ, you have already done so much,” Dungias said as his mind turned over the facts he had recently received. “I am wondering if I could call upon you for another favor.”

  “Man, not only are you not one of the raiders… but you don’t know a damn thing, do you?”

  “As you said, a great deal of time has passed,” Dungias said. “What you call the master molds, I have been told are our true Founders, even though I was raised to believe that the Founders were Malgovi and Vinthur.”

  “And to think I used to get miffed when Alfie made me jump through a false hoop,” BJ reflected before he realized something. “Sorry, that’s a master mold memory. And I don’t want to lead you on, that’s a total drag! But you’ve got to come to understand something: this place operates on rules. Zeu Rex made that abundantly clear. And I’m talking about the master mo– er, uh, the Founder form. You didn’t come in with the right keys, bucko. So I can’t unlock any of the doors of this place to you.” Dungias was disappointed, but it did not take his mind long to fathom a resolution.

  “The raiders! They are not of this place… they would not fall under that definition, would they?” Dungias quickly asked. BJ looked up at Dungias and smiled before he started chuckling.

  “You might have come in dumb as a stump, but I doubt you’ll be leaving that way.” BJ offered his hand to Dungias. “You better hold on to me though. The strain of passing between the dimensions can get overwhelming for most. And yes, that is what each door you passed through was, a breach into another dimension. This whole place is a score of pocket dimensions all sewn together. No dust ever settles on the master molds!” BJ bragged.

  As it had happened the previous two times before, Dungias could feel his eyes blinking, but he could not see through them. He heard BJ’s voice and felt the Beta Form’s hand on his shoulder before the darkness in front of his eyes began to bend into the light.

  “Okay, remember the focused breathing technique,” BJ said in a soothing voice. “What is your focal point?”

  “Controlling the pain,” Dungias answered.

  “Good. I’m going to give you something that might help settle you down.” He could feel the surface of the foodblock touch his lips and he took a bite of the bar. Nutritional supplements were designed to do one thing: deliver sustenance. The creator of these particular foodblocks was a benevolent soul because Dungias had never liked the taste of them until his visit with the Beta Forms.

  His body was covered in sweat and it took focused effort to make his hands open after gripping at the ends of the arm rests for so long. With every breath, his body became more his own; the thoughts and feelings of the others he had absorbed became facts just like the many he had gathered from reading books or digesting data files. He had never been brought so close to the viewpoints of an author before, feeling what they felt and thinking what they thought, but a heavy price had come with that perspective.

  It was as BJ had warned him, the stored minds were not aware they no longer possessed functioning bodies. They were simply reliving their assault on the dimensional hub the Founders had called The Campus. When their assault failed, they were taken back to the beginning of their training, jumping in between lessons until the visions centered around the event, when they were gathering in numbers on the deck of a derelict battle cruiser. It was an endless loop!

  “This must be a BroSohnti ship,” Dungias had concluded, looking around and seeing technology that was alien to him.

  “How are you faring, Bruthym?” Griydor had asked as he donned his chest plate. It locked into place as it settled about his shoulders. He had patted the armour and smiled. “One more time, my friend,” he had said softly as a wide, black cape sprang from the back of the armour’s neck and shoulders. The blue-eyed Malgovi had looked up to the one to whom he had been speaking; another male Malgovi of impressive build and presence. He had worn the same style of armour, but without a cape of any sort. His left knee was against the flooring of the deck, his right fist tucked against his chest, and his left hand extended over his head. From his clenched fist Dungias had not been able to make out clearly what sort of iro-form the Malgovi was manipulating.

/>   “Your Exemplar stands ready, sir!” Bruthym had replied. “The gravity will hold until we reach our destination.

  “Gravity?!” Dungias had gasped looking up from the raised fist. The ship, what was left of it, was not able to support life on its own. The gravity the Exemplar had spoken of was what he was generating, keeping air and atmosphere for the others to breathe. “I have not even heard of one of us being able to affect gravity! Yet this… the Exemplar is able to keep the deck of this tattered ship together so that a score of these so-called Mal-Vin can launch their attack! My respect for the office of Exemplar has already gained much respect with Guyn. The memory of watching this Bruthym tells me the charge of the office has been well maintained through the orbi-terms.”

  “We will appear as another meaningless bit of debris that will pass harmlessly over them,” Bruthym advised as he stood up from his kneeling position. His input into the gravity field had stopped, but he knew it would be maintained for as long as it would be needed.

  “And when we are over them, we will be anything but harmless,” Griydor had said softly before turning to address his group. “Ready yourselves, men. Vinthur, stand ready. You’ll be the first to follow the Exemplar! After he clears the automated defenses, it will be your responsibility to keep the Beta Forms from detecting our presence.”

  “We are well aware of our responsibilities, Malgovi!” one of the Vinthur had replied, turning to face Griydor. He was about the same age as the Commander, though he was clothed in skins and bones laced with hard metals. He did not possess the demeanor that Dungias had come to note as the norm for the Vinthur. “You make sure that we are allowed access to the one called Arrjeeh. If our sights are accurate, he has yet to fully recover from the last attack. If he is allowed to access his stone of power, this attack will be undone!”

  “Keep to the Exemplar, Vlosoro,” Griydor had stressed as he stepped to where he was face-to-face with the Vinthur. “When he calls for the charge, I guarantee that the one you seek will be in sight. After that, it is each to his own!”

  “So be it!”

  The two had parted and ensured all that the people they led were ready to attack The Campus. The last of the memory-reviews that BJ had prepared for Dungias allowed him to see events from a number of perspectives. As one individual might have missed Vlosoro’s red-eyed glare, others had not, and the increased perspective made Dungias feel like he was experiencing the moment himself. He had walked among them and he could feel their nervousness and anxieties; a few of them were even angry at the Beta Forms, though Dungias had yet to learn why.

  “Commander, a word,” Bruthym said softly, already beginning to move to a place where the two could have some privacy. He led the way and his Commander followed at the same gait of stride.

  “What is it, Exemplar?”

  “Commander, you know I am your Vu-Prin until the Light no longer shines on either of us.”

  “That was never in doubt, Bruthym.”

  “Then tell me why we are about to attack our masters?!” the Exemplar stressed, nearly breaking his own desire for privacy.

  “They stand in the way of progress, Exemplar,” Griydor said, taking hold of his friend’s shoulder. “And they are not our masters. They are the duplicates our so-called Founders deemed fit to leave in their wake as they took to their explorations.”

  “Yes, they left us,” Bruthym stated. “Yes, they did so against the will of our King who pleaded for them to remain. But, Griydor, what more could we have asked of them? They stopped the BroSohnti and taught us the skills we needed to defend ourselves. We are better fighters, greater warriors than our fathers were, and they were gods to their fathers before them! The Founders were explorers when they came to our stars, but they stopped here, stood here, and fought here. They became our Vu-Prini and Vi-Prini here!”

  “And they abandoned us here!” Griydor shouted. “They took our love, and our trust, and they abandoned us!”

  “The Founders gave of their lives, and several of them nearly died in the conflict,” Bruthym argued. “… but they saw us to a better place, my Vu-Prin. We have no right to ask of them a single thing! Is it not our people who owe them a debt which can never be repaid?!”

  “We owe them nothing!” Griydor screamed, his body charging with photonic energy. “Our King begged them to remain. The BroSohnti are not yet done with us, and the Founders create these… things to take their place?! Surrogates?! Duplicates who would dare to act as if they have judgment over us?! And now we learn that they have not been teaching us all that they know. As if they have that right! We will take what is ours, and this rank does not need doubt to lead it into battle.”

  “I will have words and Light with the one who believes they will take my place in this rank,” Bruthym quickly countered. “I am first your Exemplar. I am Malgovi second. It is a crime to hold my deepest thoughts from my Commander. You have given me your Light and I will take it forth into battle and beyond.”

  “And indeed you did,” Dungias thought as the image shifted. One moment he was standing off from the two Mal-Vin in heated discourse, and the next he was in Bruthym’s body, looking through his eyes.

  What Dungias wanted to see the most was the assault. He had already viewed it through Griydor’s eyes and through Vlosoro’s. As the team called the Shadow Corps began their attack, his perspective shifted to Bruthym.

  The remains of the battle cruiser had drifted into position and Bruthym took only a moment to change the spherical gravity field to one of a gigantic shaft. He jumped off the side of the ship and descended, through the tube, toward the aperture. Coursing energy through his suit formed glider wings that Bruthym used to circle his way down toward the aperture. He passed through the portal despite the automated warnings that advised him the Beta Forms were not expecting visitors and the reception received would be anything but warm.

  Bruthym landed on his feet in the middle of a foyer framed in white stone and gold. He rolled forward to lessen the impact and then dived into a second forward roll. He stopped in a kneeling position before extending his arms and focusing his talent. Automated gun units sprang from their housing placements in the foyer and began firing. Dungias could feel each surge of energy striking his body, but it was not a painful experience. His body started to take on a glow as the guns continued to fire. Three Vinthur dropped down behind Bruthym and while the one directly behind the Exemplar started casting, the other two hurled Star Spikes. They sang in both high and low notes as the spikes crisscrossed through the area, destroying the automatic weaponry. By the time the spikes returned to their hands, the centermost Vinthur had completed his casting and each of their bodies was surrounded with an iro-form Dungias did not recognize.

  The glow around Bruthym burned its way into the flooring, and the Exemplar stood up unmarked and only slightly winded. He took hold of his weapon and started forward. The images started to fade as he reached the first set of doors, but it was a review of events Dungias had already seen. The Beta Forms were not as surprised as the Shadow Corps had hoped. In fact, they had been lying in wait, and the attack had barely made it out of the foyer before they were compromised and finally restrained. To the credit of his beliefs, Griydor had gone down fighting and proved to be too strong to be imprisoned in one of Arrjeeh’s holding gems. Bruthym, however, had surrendered the moment his Commander’s head had come away from his neck by way of a long black blade, cleaving quickly and easily through energy, armour, flesh, and bone.

  As his eyes continued to blink, Dungias’ vision steadily improved. The massage of his shoulder was not meant to do anything for the muscles of his body; it was simply the point of contact BJ was using to induct low-level radiation bursts intended to ease pain and boost the body’s ability to recover from the trauma it had recently experienced.

  “That’s it,” BJ said softly. “Control your breathing, control your pain. You would be surprised what a little directed willpower can achieve.”

  “I doubt that seriously,
” Dungias said, sitting up. “At this moment, I would say the limitations of willpower are just beyond my current definition of the impossible, and now, both of those are fluid.”

  “Sounds like a good outlook to have,” BJ replied.

  “How can you do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Be so helpful,” Dungias said. “… assisting the people who have driven you into hiding!”

  BJ blurted out a short burst of laughter. “You sure you weren’t Terran in a former life? You sound like my people: damning an entire race for the actions of those in political power. I’ll have you know it was a Malgovi woman who gave us the idea to hide between dimensions. Mind you, her math was a bit off, but such is often the result of things done for the first time. And it was one of the first Travelers who gave us the place to hide. This planetoid masks the one energy form that is our weakness: ThoughtWill. Now, don’t ask me how this chunk of rock does it, but it has yet to fail us.”

  “And this Traveler… how is he related to Nugar?” Dungias asked, and BJ looked as if he would have preferred the question had not been posed . “Come now, that too is not among the things you have been tasked with guarding.”

  Pressing his lips together, BJ sighed and started shaking his head. “You’re one of those that people hate arguing with, aren’t you?”

  “There are not many things that I would press to argumentation,” Dungias replied. “But for those sacred few, I would endeavor a great deal.”