He Saw Infinity

Submitted for the Pod and Planet Eve Fiction Contest (around) December 1, 2015. 

"Murderer! Savage! Beast!"

The words stood out among the raucous crowd, likely because they struck home in Chryo's mind. He screamed and sobbed mentally, but kept a physical expression between deadpan and stoic. His white-blue eyes were locked on the ground as he stumbled over the pant legs of his prison uniform that was too baggy for his light frame. Soon enough he made his way into the room where his sentencing would take place. His defense representative, being the amateur he was, never stood a chance.

It was all a blur at that point. The outcome was inevitable and the sentence pre-determined. The evidence stacked against him had piled to the stars. He stood with his hands bound before him with a hopeless stare at the floor. The sentence was made with hasty, heated words. He had been sentenced to spend the remainder of his life in prison. Life was over for the man he was; the man he would have been. Half a decade of study and advanced placement in engineering amounted to nothing. In his heart he knew he was either innocent or so insane as to not recall the crimes he had committed. Regardless, fate wanted him to suffer — to die — and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The first order of his sentencing was the removal of his tattoos. Both those that he had earned and brandished with pride and – more specifically – those that he had applied himself. His love of art had overshadowed tradition and law. His punishment for that amounted to torture as there was little mercy for the fledgling individuals who thought they could hide their marks beneath their clothing. He knew that full and well when he gave himself the tattoos. It was something that he only regretted when the consequences for those decisions became his to bear. The removal process took place immediately upon entry into the prison.

Chryo screamed in pain, yanking hard on the restraints that bound his wrists. He lay face down on a rusted steel table. His head was strapped down into a hole cut out specifically for the face. Through his blurry, tear-filled eyes he could only see his attacker from his peripheral vision. The instrument his attacker used to inflict pain mercilessly burnt the flesh away from his side, just over his ribcage. The initial heat was intense, but it eventually soothed and cooled at the site where the plasma had burned away the nerves.

His torturer shifted to the opposite side and set to work on removing the flesh over his spine. His muscles tensed and stiffened in a desperate attempt to escape the pain. The only way to get away from the pain was to press further against the cold steel of the table. The cold was the least of his concerns and the feeling disappeared in the torrent of agony that surged through his quivering body.
"Self-tattooing. Heh, you should have known how this would end." His torturer stated grimly before giving a carelessly slap at the flesh he had brutalized with the miniature plasma cutter. For a brief moment of respite Chryo collected his thoughts. He wondered about all the things he could have done with his life had that not occurred. For a brief moment he saw all the possibilities.

For a brief moment he saw infinity.


***


Chryo snapped out of his daydream.

"How long are those calibrations going to take, Bhuren? Kind of need that cloak ready if we're going to do this and live."

Chryo released the transmit button on his headset as he stretched his arms over his head. The Vherokior man gave a lengthy moan as the muscles in his arms released tension. He leaned back in the cushioned pilot's seat with his white-blue eyes scanning idly over the instruments that decorated the console. He swayed from left to right in his seat, staring at the dazzling colors of the nebula before him. A crackling broke the sound of the Tribal Music playing when he finally received the reply from his partner.

“KZKZCCH-ou know, these ships were designed by Caldari hands. It's a whole other beast than what I'm used to." Bhuren responded with a hint of irritation in his gravelly voice.

"Mhmm. We're still about five systems out. We have some time, but you're going to need to wrap it up once we're closer to gate leading into Geminate."

The probe was new, at least by Chryo's standards. However, most of the modifications applied to the vessel were to reduce the typically high crew requirements associated with most Matari designs. That was necessary to fit the mission parameters: stealth and low profile. More importantly was the frequency for leaving the ship (bounty hunters rarely captured their bounties otherwise). The automated systems were purchased from the Federation R&D Corporations, none more prominent than CreoDron. The ship, aptly titled the "Fluid Shadow", was a hybrid of every technological aspect available besides those belonging to the Empire for obvious reasons. The drawback was that it was quite cramped inside and much of the energy was pulled from other systems.

"You know that 'Caldari scientist designed the Probe' thing is just a rumor, right?" Chryo asked as he began to flip several toggles on the instruments panel.

“KZCCH-ell the alternative was that it was taken from designs stolen by the Guristas. Kind of ironic, don't you think?" Bhuren replied through the static of the internal communications.

"If you’re referring to the fact that we’re flying a ship made from Gurista-stolen designs into Gurista space, I think you mean coincidental."

“KZCTCCH-on’t be so pedantic.”

Chryo paused for a moment to look over the constellation map on a nearby monitor. He changed the filter to display the systems by their security ratings as provided by CONCORD. His lips curled in disgust at the sight of the entire constellation changing to a deep, dark red hue. A quick flick of his wrist sent the constellation map away and instead displayed the contract with which they had accepted, giving it a final look over.

"Bhuren, finish up what you're doing and get back up here. Two jumps out from Atioth." He stated, pointedly.

“KZTCH-n the wa-KCHZ" Bhuren replied, more static-laden than usual.

Bhuren made his way into the cockpit and took a seat adjacent to Chryo. He swiveled the seat around with a low hum, kicking his legs up onto one of the control panels. Bhruen’s appearance was a stark comparison to his smaller significant other and business partner. He was a largely built Brutor man standing at around two meters in height with good posture. More importantly, he had far less scars.

“Alright, hitting the gate. They’ll likely pick us up on directional for a second. Be ready to get us out of here if they start moving around. And get your feet off the controls, you know I hate that.” Chryo stated with a shake of his head.

Bhuren sucked on his teeth and shook his head before lowering his legs to a more accommodating posture. They entered the system in a blinding flash of light. The nebula of The Great Wildlands was farther away. Fading into the distant stars they had left. The beauty was striking and Chryo had briefly lost himself in the dazzling array of color that he had not seen from that angle before. He quickly re-focused on the task at hand, activating the cloaking device that shielded the scouting frigate from physical view and the sensor reads.

“Remind me again why we aren’t using scan probes to find this place?” Bhuren asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Probes show up on directional. This is supposed to be totally dark; in-and-out, no witnesses. We nab the guy, bring him back to the spooks at the Verckel [Vherokior Combat Logistics] in Ebolfer.”

“Hmm. Scans are showing a lot of activity collected in this area, check it out.” Bhuren said as he transmitted the scan log to Chryo’s terminal.

Chryo glanced over the information briefly and noticed a signature that was quite sizable. It was set a good distance from the large collection of signatures by several hundred kilometers. He furrowed his brows together in thought, pondering as to the reason why that signature was the outlier.

“Hang on a second, going to get us a warp-in. Get ready to bail if I jump us too close to this thing.” Chryo explained.

Upon their arrival, the signature would reveal itself to be a small hub. Given that many of the lights were off and there were no signs of any activity within it, he had assumed it to have been abandoned. The main Gurista fleet was stationary and isolated from the hub several hundred kilometers off. All of the ships were aligned with the hub and looked as though their warp cores were spun and ready. Chryo assumed that this was to counter any intrusion with lightning swiftness and expert precision.

“We’re not going to be able to get close enough to this thing to board and stay cloaked. You know what that means, right?” Chryo stated as he lifted from his seat and started toward the connecting corridor.

“You know I hate doing this.” Bhuren replied as he lifted in unison.

Chryo stopped momentarily to turn back and peck his partner on the cheek with pursed lips. Briefly reminded of their time together in the Valklears.


***


“You know they’re not going to be too ecstatic if they catch us.” Chryo asked, if rhetorically.

The man nuzzled his way into the Brutor’s arms, his ear pressed firmly to Bhuren’s chest to listen to the soft beating of his heart. The sound of his lungs expanding was amplified as he took a deep breath. The olive drab blanket was of little defense against the cold wind that blew over the foxhole they were placed in. Bhuren’s eyes focused on the stars through computerized scope that he held in his right hand, the left wrapped about Chryo’s shoulders.

“Well, not like we can get in much more trouble. Still got a few years left to go for both of us and the worst that can happen is we get sent back in.” Bhuren explained.

“Not if they decide to just kill us off.” Chryo replied with a sarcastic grin.

“What, and lose two pairs of boots in this hell-hole? Please. Doubt they’d even bother filling out the paper work.”


***


“Don’t forget the safety latch you big oaf.” Chryo stated with a smile as he pulled the straps of his flight-suit over his shoulders.

 The Brutor grimaced and secured himself into the armored flight-suit. The two placed their helmets over their heads and faced the airlock of the ship. The music that played over the loud-speaker was calming. However, it was cut-off quickly as the air rushed out of the chamber. The magnetic seals on the door separated and opened up to the vastness of space before them with the hub about a dozen kilometers away.

“I hate this. I hate not being able to get out if it gets crazy.” Bhuren stated through the short range transmitter of his helmet, staring into the void.

“I know, but listen, if it gets bad, I’ll just send the signal to the Shadow to target the guns on the power core of this place. We’ll bail out, it’ll blow up, and we’ll make our way back to Metropolis – no problem.”

Chryo let out a chuckle before taking the Brutor’s hand into his own. Grasping the frame of the airlock door he pulled both of them out into the darkness. The cloak on the ship held as they exited, lost in the black. Several gusts of air were jettisoned from the container on the Vherokior’s back as he readjusted his course toward the hub. Both of their compact weapons strung across their chests to prevent the air bursts allowing them to maneuver.

“Just don’t let go, alright?” Chryo reassured the other.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this over with. I want to get paid.”

“Could always be a dancer. Shame there’s not a market for that in Amarr, right? Sure they’d love to have a big burly bastard like you in there.”

“I don’t think they even have bars, Chryo.” Bhuren replied stubbornly.

The two landed on the outer hull of the hub, attaching with the magnetic soles of their boots. They continued the rest of the way with a slow, arduous walk toward the main airlock traditionally used for ship boarding. The two bounty hunters breached through the airlock manually as to not completely destroy the hub (and likely themselves) in catastrophic decompression. Furthermore, the method of entry allowed the atmosphere to be retained. Shortly after they were inside the dark installation with their weapons drawn and helmets off, the grim atmosphere had weighed on them.

The two searched several corridors and rooms but found nothing. There was no sign of life apart from furnishings within the living quarters. The air was damp, humid, and cold, with a fine mist hanging low to the ground. Condensation had clung to the walls and with each breath they took a gentle haze would escape. Particles of dust lingered in the beam of red light – used to preserve the eyes’ night vision – Bhuren had mounted to shoulder. Both bounty hunters cautiously cleared each room while they progressed further into the complex.

“It is unnaturally cold.” Bhuren whispered, twisting his shoulders to shine the mounted red light into a room.

Chryo placed a finger to his own lips with a soft nod toward his companion. He lowered his weapon to hang loosely against his chest and drew a pair of Ishukone-manufactured ‘Nova Knives’ – blades that held a plasma-heated edge when charged. Each of the blades were held at his sides. Each step the two took was careful and planned as to not make unnecessary sound.

A shape quickly emerged from the doorway of one of the rooms. Chryo saw the flash of movement in his peripheral vision and instinctively reacted. He swung his knife in an arch but wasn't fast enough to place its glowing blade in the target. In a moment he felt a hand grasp his wrist, crush, and break the bones in a tight squeeze causing him to howl in pain. His breath was stolen from him in a blinding array of lightning quick fists to his abdomen, falling backward into a length of pipes. The pipes split and burst, releasing a jet of steam that enshrouded him in the claustrophobic corridor.

His eyes struggled to find the source of his agony. White-blue eyes focused on the shadow that approached him, barely over a meter in height, bathed in a red wash. He lifted his limp, destroyed arm in protest before a loud explosion cracked the air around him. His ears rang as blood caked over his face, fearing the worst. When his vision cleared he realized that the crack was from Bhuren's scattergun, removing the figure's head in a cone of viscera.

"Chryo, you alight?!" His companion screamed.

Chryo nodded, glancing over the figure that had toppled over him, lacking its head. He realized that the form was that of a child, barely into adolescence.

"Wh-what..?" He inquired, puzzled and terrified.

Chryo shoved the body away from himself, scrambling back. In his haste he rested most of his weight on his now mangled arm, causing him to scream as he winced in pain. Bhuren ran closer to him and settled upon his knee. The Brutor’s eyes glanced over Chryo’s form in an effort to find the source of his suffering but in the red light could not distinguish blood from sweat.

“What’s wrong?” Bhuren yelled, his hands trying to find his partner’s wound.

“My arm. It’s done for. There’s no fixing this, Bhuren – I’m in trouble.” Chryo explained with a shaky voice.

“Which one? Can you still shoot? Was that a kid?”

“Y-yeah. I can still shoot. Give me something to kill the pain, quick.”

Bhuren reached into his pack and retrieved a syringe, quickly stabbing it into Chryo’s chest with a hammered fist. The Vherokior groaned and grinded his teeth together, feeling the adrenaline surge through his body. The black-market grade painkillers followed shortly after and for a brief moment Chryo saw rainbow spots. He shook his head and lifted to a stand, looking over his arm which now hung in the shape of an ‘L’.

“Guess cybernetics are always an option.” He stated with a sigh.

“Chryo that lo-that’s pretty serious.” Bhuren noted.

“You don’t say? Look, brace it. Painkillers should at least get me through the rest of this op. At least until we get back to the Shadow.”

“Was that a kid?” Bhuren stated as he set to creating a makeshift splint for his partner’s arm, wrapping it in thick fabric.

Chryo looked over to his side where the body still laid. The blood oozing from the stump neck pooled and drained into the crevices of the metal floor panels. The Vherokior gave a grimace and looked back up to Bhuren with a shake of his head, biting his lower lip.


***


“Normally we try to get skilled individuals into the Valklears. Not much skill involved in butchering children but since you have a knack for staying alive in incarceration, we figured we’d give you a shot.”

The recruiter explained to Chryo the nature of his interest through the plastic-steel barrier as he paced. Chryo neglected to respond, simply continuing his exercise regimen within the condensed cell he was housed in.

“If you fail to respond, we’ll simply move on to the next candidate. Trust me when I say that we’re not eager to take you into our ranks based on social morays alone. However, your excellence in close quarters combat is something we find valuabl-


***


“Chryo! Stay with me here!” Bhuren yelled, giving the Vherokior a soft slap on the cheek to snap him out of his daze.

Chryo abruptly snapped his head back and stared at the Brutor’s stern expression. He sniffed the air lightly and bit harder into his lip. With a faint nod, Chryo glanced down at his braced arm a brief moment. It was adequate, he felt. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against the light chest-plate of Bhuren’s flightsuit, shaking his head from side to side.

“I know. It was botch from the start. You’ve got to get that shit out of your head though, man. One of these days you’re just going to have to come to terms with the fact that you were screwed. Look at the bright side, you got me out of the deal.” Bhuren explained.

“Yeah.” Chryo responded, grimly.

An abrupt, loud series of metallic thumps was heard by the two. They quickly jolted to attention at the sight of a child running down the corridor, cast in red by Bhuren’s light. The child had death in his eyes. The Brutor moved in front of his partner and lifted his scattergun but was too slow to react. The child lifted a boot and slammed it into Bhuren’s leg, just beneath the kneecap. With a scream, Bhuren shifted his weight as his leg buckled. Just behind him Chryo desperately tried to aim his firearm.

The beating sound of something hastily crawling through the air duct above them rang loudly amongst the commotion. From the duct's opening a child sprang, swinging his legs out with hands gripping the edge of the duct firmly. Both of the child's boots planted firmly against Bhuren's skull causing him to reel sideways in a disoriented dance. The Brutor man fell hard against the floor and his eyelids fluttered briefly.

Before either of the bounty hunters could react the group of children were upon Bhuren. Their tiny arms swung, viciously stabbing into his chest and abdomen with serrated blades that ripped the flesh apart. He wheezed for only a moment before blood began to draw from his nose and mouth. A dead stare locked toward the ceiling of the corridor as his pupils dilated, his hands loosening their grip on his weapon.

Chryo snapped, firing his handgun into the fray and rendering one of the boy’s into bloody piecemeal. The other turned to him and advanced with lightning speed. In response, Chryo dropped his weapon and pulled free his knife. He swung the blade in a wide arch and slammed it into the side of the child's head with a sickening crunch as the bone split and cracked. The body began to quiver and jolt, collapsing down with the weight dragging Chryo's arm downward with it.

He screamed in frustration with hatred in his eyes trying to pry the blade away. Unsuccessful, He held down the button to charge it. The thermic igniter lit the plasma heated blade. The heat caused the fatty tissue to melt and the flesh slipped away, like a pinkish-white sheet rolling on water. Slowly but surely the edge melted away the bone and flesh until it was freely pulled from the now cauterized wound.

Chryo dropped the blade to the ground and fell to his knees beside Bhuren’s body. He panted heavily, burying his face into his shaking hand. He lamented his lover’s death, but his sorrow quickly turned to anger. Blood-drunk, he lifted to his feet with his weapon and soldiered forward in the direction that the children had come from.

After hastily checking several rooms Chryo entered a larger chamber that glowed from the light of several computers. The light was dim and the mist hung low ever still, giving him an unnerving sensation. He focused his attention on one of the computer monitors as he approached. His adrenaline still surged from the biotics and now with the added consideration that he was alone; his partner dead.

"What is this..." Chyro muttered gravelly with a single droplet of blood rolling down over his brow.

His blue eyes scanned the surface of a holographic projection in the center of a table. The text was inconsistent and strange to him. The sentence at the very bottom of the readout was the only lettering he could decipher clearly.

//who are you

He narrowed his eyes in a puzzled look, scanning over the projection once more for anything familiar. A roll of his shoulders was given with a heavy sigh before he placed his only functional hand on the table for stability. A new line of text printed out across the projection just as clearly as the last.

//i said who are you

"Chryo." He stated slowly and inquisitively.

//what are you doing here

//you do not belong hise

Chryo's eyes traveled until they found the test tube nearby. The glass container was filled to the brim with an eerie yellow-green liquid that fully surrounded a fleshy pinkish-grey object separated into two hemispheres but conjoined in the middle. He focused his vision and saw a series of long tendrils that coiled out from the base of the rounded object. Connected to the brain was a series of metallic cables and tubes with smaller ones adjoined to the ends of the nerve tendrils that stemmed from it. Chyro's eyes widened to what degree they could against his swollen features at the realization of what it was. It seemed too small to have belonged to an adult.

//you do not belong here

"What is this? Who am I talking to?"

//i am phantan

//you do not belong here

//you must leave

"What is Phantan?"

//i am

"Are you the brain in the jar over there?"

//i am waiting for the lord

Chryo swallowed hard. His adrenaline began to rush through his body with his quickened heart rate. His eyes danced and explored, looking for some semblance of explanation to what he saw. In his panic he drew his handgun and aimed at the jar, the iron-sights along the barrel lined up with the floating brain. He looked back at the projection in a moment of hesitation, reading the newly printed sentence.

//what are you doing here

The glass shattered and the fluid spilled onto the floor an instant later. The projectile had penetrated cleanly through the glass but slowed when it hit the liquid, embedding itself into the left hemisphere of the brain. Chryo gritted his teeth, his eyebrows knitted together in shock and fury as he struggled to understand the now incoherent text that displayed across the projection. He considered what he had just done before unloading the remainder of the magazine into the organic ball. What was left was a torn and grotesque webbing. The projection ceased to display any new text.

It was only then that Chryo realized he had a single round left. Reserved in traditional manner spawned by his platoon in the Valklears: Retaining a single round with which to end a comrade’s life if suffering. He loaded the round into the barrel with a snarl, trying to work around his damaged limb. In his mind he pictured this round as the one to end his bounty’s life – vengeance. Yet, despite this, he could not explain what he was seeing.

No sooner than he had done this a door on the far end of the room slid open and he readied his weapon. An older Amarr man leaned against the door frame weakly, looking up at him with tired eyes. They stared briefly before speaking.

“Who the fuck are you?” Chryo asked impatiently.

“Hmm. Bounty hunter. No matter, I haven’t accomplished anything of value in quite some time.” The Amarr explained, shuffling back into his chamber.

Chryo followed him with a quickened, livid pace. Yet no sooner than he had entered the room were two children upon him, slashing and stabbing at his form. The surprise caused him to jolt into reaction and mercilessly cut away at their smaller frames with his nova knife after dropping his handgun. In an adrenaline fueled blur the conflict was over and their bodies lay on the floor. His vision grew dark and soon enough he realized he was bleeding profusely from his abdomen. He wasn’t quick enough, even with the biotics.

Chryo lifted his bleary eyes to see the Amarr sitting in a chair in front of him. Beside the old man was a large test tube filled with preservation liquid and a body of a woman. She starred seemingly into the distance with a respirator attached to her face to allow her to breathe.

“What..?” Chryo asked, losing his balance.

“Mmm. I suppose I should enlighten you before you die. These children you have been so fond of killing are my soldiers of fortune – misfortune, really. They were supposed to be part of the Kameira program, but I took them with me for my research. A contract for the Guristas, you see.” The Amarr stated.

Chryo staggered and fell to the floor with a loud thump. He struggled to stay conscious and to lift his handgun.

“Prior to the Templar Project I was assigned to find a way to development infantry clone technology by conventional means for the Kameiras. Blasted Jamyl and her damned agenda put an end to that. She took the Empyreans’ boon over my research and now those demons are on every planet in New Eden.”

The researcher pointed at the woman in the preservation liquid and continued despite Chryo’s suffering.

“The children were the result of my research. This fine young woman here was the basis of their training. Implantation of memories from a separate brain. Amazing isn’t it? She made a willing subject, you see. Such is the nature of the unfortunate victims of the ‘Wetgrave’ as it were. Fatal and his flock are quite morbid.

These children are the ilk of my research. Indoctrinated, immortal, and trained by the trans-neural skill of a veteran soldier like the one whom you see here. It truly is remarkable. Children are easier to mold to be the perfect fighters and loyal to a fault.” The Amarrian explained.

"Fuck your exposition. No-one will know what you did here." Chyro stated as he lifted his sidearm, his hand shaking weakly.

"Wai-"

The researcher lifted his hand to shield his face in protest. It was, however, in vain as the deafening crack of Chryo’s gun echoed off the walls. The round had punched a hole cleanly through the man's hand and he immediately slumped forward. His head hung, dead, with a stream of blood pouring from the fresh wound that pooled at the floor between his knees.

Chyro winced as he removed the neocom from his broken, bruised, and battered arm. He flipped his fingers over the shattered glass of the interface that had previously wrapped around his wrist. A targeting interface showed for the automated systems of their ship – his ship – the Fluid Shadow. He selected the hub’s power core as the target and hovered his index finger over the firing interface.

For a brief moment he wondered if it was all a nightmare. He wondered if the past several years were all a fabrication of his mind. He pondered on whether or not he was insane – a child killer. That this was the reason why he was sentenced and that he was merely recollecting it all now. It didn’t make sense to him in the slightest and the house of horrors he was in only reinforced that. He wondered if Bhuren would still be alive if he had not been a part of his life.

The targeting of the Fluid Shadow finalized and Chyro pushed the button on the neocom. And for a brief moment he saw infinity.