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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on Apr 25, 2015 15:06:29 GMT
‘P'foga!........ saitratyl…..lights!’
She fumbled for the antique note pad and pen beside her bunk as the ships A.I finally recognised the shouted command and expelled the darkness of her quarters.
Frantically she scribbled, attempting to trap her dream on the papers surface before it could twist away and evaporate as was their common want.
‘No no’ she murmured in frustration as she screwed up her eyes in an effort to hold onto the rapidly fading details.
For weeks now the pattern had repeated, the visions becoming gradually more lucid even as the content became ever more disturbing.
At one time a psychologist had suggested the use of a dream diary as a way of making sense of the subconsciousness, convinced that writing down and then discussing horror was a good way of dealing with such things. She knew better on that of course, but had to admit that making notes on waking was the only way to hold onto the reality opened when sleep takes control.
The archaic pen and paper method became necessary as, on reaching for her datapad after one particularly potent nightmare, she had found all previous records deleted. It’s a terrible thing when you can’t trust your own mind she knew, so hand written notes had replaced digital records on the basis that paper was harder to destroy without her noticing.
So far that had held true and rewarded her with pages of impressions, drawings and questions….nothing tangible to alleviate the growing suspicion that she was finally going properly insane.
Sitting back on crumpled sheets, her back against the bulkhead she ran her finger over the scribbled name she had held onto long enough to commit to paper.
It felt like a triumph.
‘But is it real?’
The question went unanswered. The other girl, normally so quick to bite was oddly quiet on this subject, never deeming to add anything to the endless questions the onset of the dreams had sparked.
Her head throbbed, as it always did these days when she awoke.
Dragging herself from her bed she moved to give the tea flask on her table a hopeful shake, noting with disappointment the lack of weight indicating its emptiness. Dullness clung to her like a veil over her senses as she unlocked her door and padded barefoot down towards the frigates rudimentary galley. Sleep tussled hair, crumpled vest and shorts disregarded as she hunted for the mornings fix.
Dadaayaa tea, so long her crutch, had begun to fail to support her over the last few weeks. As time passed more and more was required to keep her mind from sinking into the fog that left everything seeming so grey and devoid of colour. Stronger infusions had now been replaced with a mixture of powdered leaves added directly to water and consumed in a vividly green drink.
She hugged the cup close as the liquor burnt her tongue and started to sharpen the edge of her mind. Glancing round she noted her surroundings for the first time. Freshly bought ingredients littered the worktops, clothes lay scattered across the furniture and her two wards were noticeably by their absence.
‘Scarab, locate Tish and Vic please’
‘Subjects are currently located the cargo bay, along with one other’ came the synthetic reply.
Interest peaked she liberated a green silk scarf from the back of a chair and, tying it around her waist to cover her legs, headed towards the bay to see why a stranger had been brought onto her ship while she slept.
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on May 9, 2015 12:15:40 GMT
'Again, bring your weight forward as you punch.'
Mooran absorbed the blows easily.
'Excellent, try not to over extend though and put yourself off balance.'
Tish bounced lightly from foot to foot on the large padded training mat that covered part of the cargo bays floor. Repeating the exercise she planted three blows in rapid succession into the padded palms held before her as targets.
'Better, you are really starting to project some force into these now. Hows the wrist?' he enquired.
'Its ok' Tish replied as she shook out her arms and wiped a fine sheen of perspiration from her forehead with the back of a sparring mitt. 'Better than my knee anyway.'
'Well, lets work on that then' Mooran replied as he slipped off the padded gloves he wore and picked up a cylindrical kick bag.
'P'foga......do we have to?'
'Tish!' exclaimed Vic as he paused his frantic one sided fight, wooden practice sword dropping as he glared at his sister 'That's a bad word!'
Tish rolled her eyes at Mooran in answer as the trainer fixed the lad with a mock serious stare 'Haven't you got monsters to fight then little warrior?' he enquired gently. 'Best get back to it if your going to keep them at bay while we train.' Suitably distracted Vic launched himself into another bout of heroic defense.
'Thanks for that' Tish offered with a smile.
'Well, we were all young once. Now stop stalling and kick me.'
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Post by Malik Moriga-Tay on May 22, 2015 17:36:44 GMT
'What the hell was that?' Mooran asked angrily as Tish bounced back a couple of steps, the knee blow having just scrapped along the side of his ribs.
'Just something I've seen done before’ she replied as she worked a loose strand of hair back into her ponytail.
'Not a good idea' he replied with a shake of his head. 'I'm teaching you to defend yourself, not scrap like a street thug....and a move like that brings you too close...you want to keep your distance and your options open remember?'
'If she is kicking strangers I'd say she is already out of options no?'
Mooran turned as a figure stepped out of the darkness shrouding the cargo bays entrance and padded slowly into the space.
Tish recovered her surprise first. 'Mooran, let me introduce this ships owner and....'
'Malik!'
Vic’s shout cut her introduction short as he barrelled across the training mat to fling his arms around the new comer’s waist. 'You smell funny' he added innocently as he gave her a squeeze.
Have you come to fight Mooran?' he asked hopefully.
'That depends' she answered slyly, unsuccessfully trying to disengage the youngsters grip as she moved off towards the storage lockers that occupied the walls on three sides of the bay.
‘Miss Tay, Tish told me about you’. Mooran offered in reply. ‘I assure you I'm just here on business, as Tish's personal trainer, as I'm sure you have guessed’.
The woman made no reply as she continued her slow circle of the exercising pair, her considered movements hindered somewhat by the boy shaped limpet that still clung to her voluminous tail.
‘We were just running through some unarmed combat drills’ he added, feeling the need to explain.
Having reached the nearest locker the red haired capsuleer unfastened the door without looking around. Reaching behind herself she withdrew a wicked looking blade from a sheath hanging from the back of the door.
Glancing towards Tish, who remained motionless, Mooran sensed the tension. Bending slowly he placed the kick bag at his feet before holding his hands out in submission. 'I assure you, I mean no harm here, I'm not a threat.'
The light caught the blade as its owner examined it carefully, as if checking for some unseen defect. 'Of course you're not' came the thickly accented reply. A bottle of water was quickly removed from the open locker, the blade slicing through the film covering its cap. 'We'd not be talking if you were.'
Tish visible relaxed, her posture changing as her guardian took a long pull from the bottle she held. Thirst apparently quenched the bottle and blade were returned to their places and the door closed silently with a casual movement.
'I've been instructing her for a week or so now....she is a good student, a fast study.'
Disengaging her tail from the youngster grasp the capsuleer bent to pick up the discarded wooden sword before moving to stand at the side of the mat, the open bay door to her back.
'Please, don't let me disturb you Sergeant Mooran Grazz' she spoke, using his full name and rank. 'We are keen to see what insight you have imparted so far.'
'You been checking on me?' Tish spoke first as she took a step forward.
'Only a little.' Malik replied. 'On discovering a stranger in my home it seemed only prudent.....did we not discuss house rules kaintra?' she asked pointedly.
'You weren’t around....your never around....besides, Mo is not a stranger.'
'Not to you, I can see that clearly'.
'How do you know I served?' Mooran asked warily.
‘I had my ship check you out of course. Nothing invasive, employment history, tax returns, that sort of thing....amazing what is available on the public domain if you look.'
‘And I passed?’
‘Again, we wold not be chatting if I were in any way unhappy Sergeant’.
‘Well, err that’s good I guess….and I’m not in the service anymore.’
‘I know, a colourful and respectable service record, though a little short.’
‘Not intentionally I assure you, but it is what it is.’
‘Quite so ulyuudha, but you are still wrong.'
'I'm sorry?'
‘In your assessment. It was incorrect. She was right to use the knee...the only failing was not following up.’
Tilting her head to one side she addressed Tish directly. ‘Did I not tell you Tish, about getting into a fight?’
'There is no such thing as a fair fight and only fight if you intend to win.' Tish recited.
‘Well sometimes it’s may not be your choice...’ Mooran added in correction.
‘It's always my choice.’ came the capsuleers response.
‘Well, on that I’d have to disagree.’
The slim shoulders gave him a shrug in reply.
Feeling a little more confident Mooran decided to step up.
‘Gallante naval academy right?’ He asked, confident of the answer. ‘I served with some of your Marines, decent guys’.
‘They taught me the basics.’
‘Care to learn a thing or two more? Seems only courteous, and to be fair it would aid Tish to see some moves from a different perspective’.
‘You wish to dance with me?’
‘Mo, don’t’.
‘Yay! Fight’ Vic added excitedly.
‘As you wish’.
Dropping the wooden blade Malik took a few steps onto the mat. ‘What does my agreement tell you ulyuudha?’ she asked as she moved to stand in place.
‘Enough. Tish, want to give Malik here your gloves?’
‘That won’t be necessary’
‘Your choice.’
Mooran brought his fists up and took a couple of seconds to size up his opponent. He knew she would be quick, these eggers often had neural implants to speed up reactions. From the way she stood he knew that she did not consider him a danger. Though slight in build he noted her calf muscles and thighs were more muscled than the rest of her frame.
‘Runner….maybe a dancer.’ he added to himself. ‘Tails a weakness though, too big and easy to grab.’
‘Ok then Tish…keep your eyes on my feet….see how my weight is distributed.’ With the last word he loosed a quick jab, pulled short of his opponent’s face, to see how she reacted.
Nothing, not a flinch.
He tried again, extending fully this time
A tilt to the left and her head was clear.
Two more, in rapid succession, ducked as easily. He then twisted, rotating though 360 intending to deliver a back hand hammer blow on the return. His fist failed to make a connection as his target lazily bent backward at the waist, letting the blow pass harmlessly over her head.
‘Fuck, you are a quick one.’
‘You’ve no idea.’
He tried harder. Jab, jab, kick. The first two blows simply ducked, the kick pushed away with the back of a hand before she whirled past his hip, planting a slap on his arse as she passed.
‘Mmm firm. Should we hurt him, embarrass him or both?’
She smiled at the thought. ‘You can’t win you know? You’re just too slow’
‘I’ll show you slow’ he replied, repeating the sequence a second time. As expected, she easily avoided the jabs, but as she moved to spin round him a second time he grabbed out quickly as she passed. Expecting to heave on her tail and throw her onto her back he managed only to illicit an un-lady like grunt from his target and gain a fist full of red and white fur.
‘That was dirty’, she said as she moved to put a little distance between them. ‘We approve.’ Gathering her tail in her arm she pulled it round her waist. Tucking the tip into the front of her shorts she added ‘Want to try that one again?’
‘Uh oh!’ Vic shouted with glee ‘you should’na have done that.’
‘Please Mo, you’ve shown me enough.’ Tish implored.
Squaring his shoulders he ignored the request ‘you’re not fighting, you’re dancing…..do you mean to mock me?’
‘The two are the same thing we think…..and no, the trophy in your hand earns you my respect. I mean to see if you are up to the task.’
He sprang forward, the snap kick turned away as he landed, the follow up leg sweep passed over as she twirled to his back.
‘This is fun….though not as much as the workout your gallant lieutenant gave us the other week.’
As the adrenaline flowed his movements appeared to slow to her mind. She’d already picked up on his weakness, some old injury….possibly the one that earned him the early discharge, slightly reduced his flexibility and sped from his left side. He was still quick though, and had kept her interested longer than most dance partners.
‘I think you are starting to annoy him’.
‘Perhaps.’
‘If he gets hold of us this is over…though almost worth it…..
‘True’
‘What’s true?’ came the slightly breathless question as Mooran unsuccessfully tried to land a hit.
‘Everything.’
He had her. Inhumanly quick as she was, she also seemed to be repetitive….her lack of combat experience showing though the pseudo dance moves she span though to avoid his reach. Switching his weight he let loose a flurry of quick kicks, forcing her to move before swinging a high left followed quickly by a blow at the space on the mat he knew she would move to.
‘Ugh’ he grunted as he regained his balance….the two fingered prod to his stomach the move earned him doing nothing to improve his mood.
Unwrapping the scarf from her waist he held the ends loosely in either had. ‘I’ve seen enough’.
The punch hit air as she passed the material between his arms, before waiting for the next blow to pass as she knew it would. Stepping quickly back to his fore she pulled, bringing his left arm across to block his right, the light kick to the back of his left knee bringing him off balance. As he started to fall she stepped forward, aiding his passage with a twist of her waist. He rolled over her hip as he hit the mat. Coming down quickly onto his back before he could roll she span once across his body, the twist in the scarf now pulled tight. Pushing a leg under one of his she braced her other against his neck and pulled.
‘Enough!’ he gasped, arms entangled in the fabric, pinioned under his own weight and with her pushing down he had no option other than to concede or be choked to blackout.
Rolling off him she regained her feet and stood, fussing over her tail as she waited for him to recover.
‘Was that really necessary?’ Tish asked with a venomous glance as she bent to help the red faced Mooran to his feet.
‘That was awesome!’ squealed Vic as he bounced onto the mat, leaping around in his own rendition of events ‘Are you going to go again?’
‘He will do’
‘Do for what?’ asked Tish.
‘I’m…..going to be away for a while, and I needed to be sure that your beau here was capable of looking after the two of you in my absence’.
‘So what, that was some sort of twisted job interview?’ gasped Mooran as he massaged the welt to his neck.
‘If you like’ she answered in reply as she padded towards the exit. Pausing to throw them a smile she added ‘Can you imagine what would have happened had you not passed?’
Silence followed her as she headed for her quarters and the tasks ahead.
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