Selene sat staring at the disassembled P-105K pistol on the dinner table ahead of her. She visualized it coming apart and coming back together.
If she was ever in the field for extended periods of time maintaining her own weapon would be necessary.
A drop of blood hit the table. Then another.
"Shit." she dropped the spring in her hands and rushed into the bathroom. She tilted her head back and put a tissue up to her nostril. "Soooo tired of this crap."
She sat on the toilet and waited. It would take a while for the nosebleed to stop.
She figured she would practice a new ability she learned.
Astral viewing. Or at least, her specific version of it.
She felt her pets vibes, or 'psionic signatures' or whatever.
Riddick told her that lots of their abilities have scientific names like that. And the vibes she felt were really psionic signatures that living things gave off. Consciousness was a universal force that anything that was sentient tapped into. Like radio signals. And that's why many telepaths could affect the thoughts of other living things. Because they are all connected on some deep level.
Selene figured that if she's connected to them that she should be able to use their eyes too. On some instinctual level she she knew she could.
Her eyes closed as she pinched the tissue around her nose and she concentrated. She located the vibe she was looking for. Shiba's. It wasn't the first time she's done this and so it was a fairly basic process.
As she expected—Shiba was up to no good. She was looking up at the central kitchen marble counter where a bowl of dog biscuits were sitting.
This was why Dr. Bryant gave her these pets after all. To figure out how to better adapt her abilities for use against the Zykra.
Shiba whined a bit and looked towards a mirror on the wall Selene had hung up.
She knew Selene was watching her. She felt her presence.
"Only good dogs get treats." Selene said.
"Errf." Shiba grumbled and went to find Beegee to vent. Selene was gradually coming up with names for each of them and that's what she decided to call the beagle.
Beegee was laying on her bed. (As he's been told not to)
He looked over his shoulder to see Shiba sneaking up behind him and knowing her intentions—he took off. Shiba gave a playful nip at his butt as he ran by her and began to chase.
He drifted around the hallway corner and went into the living room. Shiba hot on his tail. He went into a cat tower that had a tunnel-like compartment he could fit into thanks to his small size and began nipping outside the entrance. A true strategist.
Shiba nipped back but her slightly bulkier body couldn't fit in the entrance.
Things weren't going well for Shiba today. She barked.
The nosebleed was stopping finally.
Using her abilities seemed to take a strain off Selene. Over time this kind of 'pressure' would build up and cause symptoms like nosebleeds and headaches. And these weird distortions in her vision called visual snow.
There was a bird chirp noise on her tablet. So she cut off her connection with Shiba and checked it. A display had popped up. Someone was at her door. Raymond and Brett.
Now that they were standing right next to each other she could see that they were pretty similar looking. Brett was slightly taller, maybe 6 foot. Both of them were wearing civilian clothes. Tan. black hair. Though Brett's was cut short in a boring official style while Raymonds was still shoulder length.
Raymond had a black long sleeved shirt on with jeans, and Brett was wearing a white polo shirt with grey sweat pants.
She went to her front door and opened it.
"Sup." Brett said.
Selene gave a nod of her head and went into her living room, towards the wooden dinner table she'd setup a distance away behind the couch. Where she resumed putting back together the pistol.
"Doggies!" Brett called.
There was the padding of many claws on hardwood as the dogs barreled towards him. He began to wrestle around and play with them.
While Raymond leaned against the back of the couch facing Selene.
"New pistol? What was wrong with the old one?" he asked.
Selene didn't look up as she answered; "I prefer range and accuracy over firepower. And this one is quiet. Like a paintball gun. Really compliments my carbine."
"Telepaths and their fancy gear. I didn't get to choose anything."
Brett let down Bernard who'd he'd been dancing with—holding his paws.
"You will. Just gotta' rank up rook. It'll be over before you know it. I mean, Selene only started like what, six months ago?"
Selene nodded. Give or take. But she was also a special exception to many things in the defense force by the nature of being a telepath. Telepath careers burned bright and fast, but there's an obvious cost to that.
"Eh, I'm fine with the standard set anyway. We're fighting Zykra and like 90% of them seem to be those little roach things. So I'm good with guns with big mags and fast firerates. Way better than that shitty shotgun Betty gave me on Lamda."
"You did pretty good with that shotgun I thought." Selene said, as she racked back the slide on the pistol. It was lightweight and flimsy sounding.
Raymond shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess... Kept jamming though. Maybe I could get a P.U.C. sawn-off or something as my sidearm. They have those right?"
Brett made his way around the couch then. The dogs followed closely by his side, pleading for more scritches.
"Yep. Called executioners. They're like pistols. Revolvers you put shotgun shells into. They're alright if you know how to use 'em."
Brett had experience before the IBT, unlike many of them. He was a grunt soldier who helped fight pirates and rebels. Not that he liked to talk about that part of his career, it was something Selene had heard from Luan a few days ago when they went for coffee.
"So, Selene, how do you feel about a night out on the station? There's a bar that gives defense force members a discount."
She placed the pistol back into it's case. There was a foam mold that the shape fit perfectly into within.
Her first instinct as to reject the offer. Her only experience with alcohol was at some party in highschool. It wasn't that fun and she had a headache the next day. But then she remembered her fathers advice about how puck watches soldiers closely after intense missions.
Would a night out at a veteran bar make her look normal?
"Sure." she said—clasping the gun case shut. The light in the middle turned from green to red to symbolize the lock engaging.
She could just pretend to drink, or drink very little. Probably a combination of both.
"See? Told ya'." he grabbed Raymond's shoulder and shook it. "First rounds on Raymond." Brett said.
Selene dressed in her favorite dark red hoodie (That she had to replace) and navy-blue skinny jeans with black sneakers.
The station had many wide open compartments and holographic ceiling screens meant to give the illusion of being in exterior spaces. And the bar was located in one such compartment. Many recreational public spaces were. It was a shopping center.
There were sidewalks of concrete, but the 'road' in the center was flat dark steel which robots and drones would travel down for delivery, public transportation, emergencies and other things that benefited from automation. It wasn't for private use like cars.
The mock sky overhead was stary. It was currently broadcasting the cosmos around the station, but during 'daylight' hours it would display a blue sky and clouds.
Ever since she left Endelon it's been strange. Having a night sky is so normalized in the rest of the system apparently. Planets like hers with two suns were rare it seemed. But people preferred having night skies evidently. Maybe she would too in time.
The bar itself was a wall of glass. With neon signs saying "Bar", "Vets drink free."
Too bad landlords never gave veteran discounts. It's always been weird to Selene that places like these were the ones who gave veteran discounts but banks or stuff like that seldom did.
There were signs of beer brands and sports events on the glass too.
The doors opened autonomously as they approached. Inside Selene noticed the floor had neon lights that waved and curled through the black shiny floor like thin streams of lava.
The ceiling was dark with many lights hanging from strings, with a round cone around them catching the off-white light and directing it towards the ground. Booths of happy patrons lined the walls, and small round tables filled the space between them and the bar counter itself.
Which was central to the room. Hugely round and filling a good portion of the room. It had a black surface similar to the floor with a vibrant orange under-glow beneath it. And stools with black leather and orange rings of LED lights surrounded the counter and stood at the many tables around the room.
People were laughing, joking, and of course—drinking.
The psionic signature was 'dumb and happy', which wasn't the worst vibe to be surrounded by. But it seemed like a volatile state. Easy to change into something else quickly.
They took a few free stools at the counter.
"What do you think?" Brett asked, gesturing to the space around them.
It was hectic to say the least. That 'high energy' feeling people got when they gathered in large numbers. Mass hysteria, that's the phrase. It was... Disorientating for her. Selene wasn't so much an introvert as she was a small town girl. She was still getting used to station life. It was like a core world.
"It's fine." she said.
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked as he walked down the isle. The racks of bottles behind him glowed a similar orange color as the rest of the lighting scheme. Water was falling behind the rack like a fountain.
Brett looked towards Selene who shrugged.
"Can we get some Pudweisers?" he told the bartender who nodded and reached beneath the counter before producing three glass bottles with blue labels and the symbol of some dude in a hat with a pickaxe over his shoulder.
Selene held the bottle awkwardly. Then took a sip.
It was bubbly. Bitter.
"Gross."
"You don't drink it for the flavor." Raymond said, taking a big gulp of his.
"Speak for yourself!" Brett chuckled. "I think it grows on ya'. It's better than soft drinks to me. Has a good burn."
She took another sip. And felt her stomach squirm around.
"Oof." she said. "Now what?"
They looked to her.
"What do you mean?" Raymond asked.
"We just sit here and drink this? We could've just stayed at my apartment."
Brett gave a few nods; "True. And we probably could sometimes. But it's about meeting people... And the booze is kind of a social lubricant."
"Bad word." Raymond mumbled as he took another swig.
They talked about a few things from there. They eventually transferred to a booth to the side and drank there.
Their mission on Lamda, training, families, the conversation drifted topic to topic organically. Raymond talked about how he ended up on Lamda, how his parents died in a harvester accident, his grandma is all he has left, kind of a dreary topic.
Then they moved onto Selene's situation which didn't make anything better. This went on for about a half hour before Brett attempted to segue to a lighter topic.
"So..." Brett leaned back and slid in another beer from the table in front of them.
"You and Luan? I noticed the way you look at each other."
Raymond coughed mid-drink and sputtered. He wiped his chin with his long sleeve.
"Uhh... Really?"
Was it so obvious? Selene did think the sergeant was... Interesting.
Some people might be offended by a question like that. Like what business was it of his? It's not like they were close friends. But Brett had a way about him. Sincere. As if he was excited for her.
"Yep. I bet if you came onto the sarge she'd ask what took you so long. It'd be kind of weird for her, since you're technically her subordinate."
"Relationships in the army aren't against the rules?" Raymond asked.
"Nope. I mean it depends. At the higher level it's different. Like you probably won't be sent together on important missions. A lot of people keep it unofficial for as long as they can cause of the nuances. Girlfriends, boyfriends, they just say they're 'close friends' and puck can't really prove they aren't. So what can they do anyways? People are gonna people."
Selene actually wanted to take her next drink after hearing that.
"I'm not really relationship material."
Raymond scoffed at that.
Selene smirked. "What?"
He rolled his eyes; "Are you kidding me? Look at you. It hardly matters if you have a few quirks."
Brett leaned away and turned into the side of the booth in second hand embarrassment.
"What?" Raymond asked. Then slowly reddened as he realized. He turned his beer on the table before drinking it.
They all shared an air of awkward silence for a moment after that.
Selene guessed she might as well try and salvage the conversation; "Thanks... But-"
"IBT!" someone said loudly as they walked over. A big guy with a gut and gnarled red beard said as he slid into the booth next to Selene. She scooted over as much as she could to keep away from his sweat smell.
Two other guys followed him. A lanky tall black man with bright blue eyes, bald head and blond eyebrows. The other was another white guy with brown fohawk. Camden had a similar hairstyle, Selene always assumed that hairstyle was for kids. They stood off to the side holding their beers.
"Pest control division." the red headed one belched out. His face was scarred with a wide cut down the cheek. They all wore sleeveless green denim vests, black t-shirts and cargo pants.
"Listen buddy... We're just trying to enjoy a night out. We don't want any trouble." Brett said. A darker air about him than Selene had seen before.
Red beard raised his hands defensively; "No trouble. I'm just curious, what's it like killing bugs? You three were on Lamda right? I saw some clips."
"We were..." Selene said.
"Fook'n celebrities! I'll tell you what—you don't get on the news for killing the sectors real enemies. Makes me want to squash a few bugs myself, shit. Might finally get some recognition around here." he scoffed. He raised a hand towards the bar. "Can we get something real to drink over here!?"
The bartender nodded and came over with a bottle of something dark brown and some shot glasses.
"Round for all our new friends." he said.
Brett and Raymond took their shots, and so Selene followed their lead.
This was way different than beer. It hit faster. Her stomach lurched and she felt a pressure build behind her eyes.
Toxin
The vibe hit her at the same time. Along with a feminim voice. Angry, annoyed. It was the encephalon's voice that Dr. Bryant currently had contained in his research division.
They were still connected?
"Are you feeling okay Selene?" Raymond asked, concerned.
"It's fine... Just a little strong."
"Ha! You'll get used to it!" red beard patted Selene on the back. The sudden physical contact surprised her.
"Don't touch her." Brett said, beginning to rise from his seat.
Selene put a hand up. "I can speak for myself." she said, then turned to red beard. "Don't touch me."
He put his hands up defensively again. "Alright! You got it—just being friendly." he put a hand on his own chest; "I'm Garret. This one is Stanley, and that's Dannis. See? We're all friends here."
Brett let out a sigh.
"Since you're being a passive aggressive cunt. I'll be direct. Fuck you and fuck your friends. We have no interest in drinking with disgusting, greasy, petty bastards like you. Fuck off." he said looking straight at him.
"...Those are fighting words, friend." the shorter man named Stanley leaned onto the table and looked down her him. Brett glared up at him. Tension slowly started building.
Shit. Were they about to fight these guys? What kind of rules were there about fighting other defense force members?
'Slap!'
They all looked towards Garret. Who'd slapped both his palms on the booths table.
"Ah it's fine. Fella's direct, I can respect that. We'll find some proper soldiers to drink with. Goodluck with your pest problem." he maintained eye contact with Brett a while longer after that. Then slid out of the booth and walked away.
Stanley remained a moment longer.
"Watch your back, twerp." he said and slowly turned and walked away.
Brett looked back at her and Raymond with an apologetic expression.
"Sorry about that. Usually the vets here are way more friendly. But every now and then you get guys like that who joined up for some kind of pissing contest."
"It's.. Alright." Selene said.
"Guy is a little short to be calling people 'twerp'" Raymond said.
Brett waved it off with his hand; "Don't let them get to ya'—forget they existed. Come on, let's get Selene home and call it a night. Sucks we couldn't end it on a high note."
Selene shook her head. "No, it's fine. I had fun, we should do this again sometime. Maybe something else though. Like VR games or something. It'd be fun to do those training simulations actually."
"Good idea."
Selene pulled her hoodie over her head and tossed it in the closet near the front door. Then kicked off her shoes.
She wouldn't say she was drunk. Just buzzed.
The dogs were sleeping soundly in random places. Germa (Which was Selene's lazy name for her German Shepard) noticed her and got up lazily and padded over.
Selene gave her a few headpats.
Remove Toxin.
The voice vibrated through her head again and along with it the overwhelming urge to throw up. She rushed into the bathroom and puked her guts out.
Afterwards she sat gripping the toilet seat, breathing heavily.
'What the hell?' she asked herself. Then stood up and went to the mirror and began searching her eyes.
Was it the infection? Was it her contact with the encephalon?
She blinked in the mirror.
After one of the blinks her eyes made a flicking sound and changed. They went from a hazel color to a orange. And her pupils turned to vertical slits.
She gasped and covered her mouth in shock. She was infested! She stumbled back and tripped over the rim to her shower and fell through the curtains. They wrapped her like a blanket and she gripped the sides of her head.
"Stay me, stay me!"
'crack'
She looked up at the sound. Her mirror had a couple cracks running down it now. When she looked into it her eyes were normal again.