Bajes's vision blurred, a sign that not even his advanced psi link could access his health data anymore—a dire indication he was nearing the end. He longed for the respite of closing his eyes, yet even this small comfort was denied to him. Amidst his struggle, an explosion resounded, showering him with debris. Frustrated and helpless, he wished to express his agony, but found himself voiceless.
From what seemed like a vast distance, voices pierced the silence. "Find him! He must be here somewhere," someone commanded, followed by the sound of hurried movements. Suddenly, hands flipped Bajes onto his back, and a familiar voice exclaimed, "Madam, I've found him! We need ice immediately—he's burning up, likely in the final stage! Medics, hurry!"
Bajes strained to identify the voice, convinced he recognized it, yet his perception was clouded by hallucinations. Another shout cut through the chaos, "Ice alone won't suffice; it's -80 outside. We'll administer first aid there before rushing him to surgery." He was swiftly placed onto a stretcher and lifted, the cold air outside beckoning.
This scenario, the "last stage," was hauntingly familiar to Bajes. He recalled his first encounter with it at the military university on Psi Alpha, the galaxy's capital. There, regardless of age, every cadet was equipped with a specialized military-grade psi link upon graduation. This device, capable of connecting with others, conducting advanced health scans, detailed reporting, and even interfacing with ships, came with a critical flaw: it could not be detached in emergencies. The rationale was grim but pragmatic—a soldier who lost their psi link on the battlefield was doomed anyway.
Bajes's early departure from class, prompted by his eagerness to finalize evening plans with Abdul, took an unexpected turn when he sensed he was being followed. Confronting his pursuer, he found himself face to face with a Varkarian, one of the three humanoid races in the galaxy alongside humans and Terellians, distinct from the non-humanoid Silicarids and Arachnex. Varkarians, known for their lack of gender distinctions and referred to neutrally as "it," held a unique place in the galactic community.
"You should show more respect to your superiors, human," the Varkarian declared, stepping into the open. Bajes internally sighed at the familiar refrain. Despite the advancements of humanity, they were often deemed inferior due to their reliance on first-generation psi links, in contrast to the fourth generation available, with the latest accessible only to Terellians and Silicarids. These two races, foundational to the galactic deal that eventually evolved into the Galactic Council with the addition of the Arachnex, represented the pinnacle of technological integration.
Observing the Varkarian closely, Bajes noted the third-generation psi link it on his head, marking it as an elite member of its race. "While my race may be considered inferior, I am a member of the Terellian royal family. You would do well to temper your words in public, lest they lead to unintended escalations," Bajes cautioned.
The Varkarian responded with disdain, spitting in Bajes's direction. "Are you going to hide behind your slavers?" it challenged.
Bajes could only chuckle in response; the Varkarian's misconceptions were deeply ingrained, immune to change regardless of what Bajes might say. This wasn't his first encounter with such prejudice, and it was unlikely to be his last.
Bajes, unfazed by the Varkarian's aggressive posture, challenged, "You are all talk. If you intend to act, do so. Otherwise, leave me alone." To his astonishment, the Varkarian drew a weapon and commenced firing. The laser beam, designed to incapacitate by overheating an opponent's shield or the individual themselves, was not meant for use outside training grounds—a fact that underscored the gravity of the attack within the university's non-combat zones.
Standing his ground, Bajes was protected by his psi shield, confident that the assailant's weapon would overheat before causing him any harm. Simultaneously, he alerted the university staff to the assault via his psi link. As the laser beam harmlessly scattered against his shield, the Varkarian taunted, "Soon you'll learn the true cost of being human, as your brain fries!"
This threat erased any trace of amusement from Bajes. This was a genuine attempt on his life, one he could not overlook. Readying his psi baton, he advanced towards the Varkarian, certain that university security would soon apprehend the attacker.
However, the confrontation took an unexpected turn when a human woman stumbled upon the scene, her shock evident as she cried out, "Stop this! This is no place for your games!" Ignoring her plea, the Varkarian redirected its attack towards her. Her psi shield, powered by an outdated and inferior psi link, flickered under the assault. Realizing the imminent danger she faced, Bajes, propelled by his enhanced external psi skeleton, sprinted towards the assailant. Just as he was about to breach the Varkarian's shield, a cry of pain escaped the woman, and she collapsed.
Bajes, with a swift motion of his psi baton, caught the Varkarian off-guard, causing the latter to drop his weapon. Surprised but quick to react, the Varkarian sidestepped and drew his own baton, ready to counter. Both combatants, clad in the standard external psi skeletons provided by the university, were on equal technological footing, yet the Varkarian's superior size gave him an initial advantage in reach.
Bajes's subsequent attack was deftly parried; the Varkarian attempted to leverage his physicality to dominate. However, in this age of advanced technology, raw physical strength was secondary to the capabilities of the external psi skeleton. The psi link's calculations, sending millions of instructions per second to the skeleton, ensured that physical prowess was balanced by the technology's output and the mental stamina required to wield it.
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As Bajes intensified his assault, the Varkarian struggled against the unexpected force, his attempts to disengage thwarted by Bajes's agility. Landing a decisive hit with his psi baton, Bajes sent the Varkarian crashing into a wall, leaving a visible crack. Despite the resilience typical of Varkarians, the assailant found himself on the defensive, retreating under Bajes's relentless attacks.
"What the hell are you? How are you still standing?" the Varkarian exclaimed, incredulity lacing his voice as he struggled to fend off the offensive.
Bajes, focused and unfazed, replied sharply, "There's no need to explain myself to a future prisoner and criminal." The battle continued fiercely until the sudden arrival of security personnel, who demanded an immediate ceasefire.
"Both of you, drop your psi batons!" came the authoritative command. Without hesitation, Bajes complied, dropping his weapon despite his advantageous position in the fight.
The Varkarian, seizing a moment of chaos, swung his psi baton towards Bajes. Caught off guard, Bajes braced for impact, not anticipating such defiance in full view of security. But then, an unexpected intervention came from within his own mind—a voice he hadn't heard in ages, offering assistance. The hit connected, launching Bajes through the air, yet he felt no pain; his external psi skeleton absorbed the shock. Remarkably, his body executed a flawless roll, landing him on his feet—a feat that would normally impress Bajes, except he hadn't been the one to control his movements. Something, or someone, had taken over.
As he regained his footing, Bajes realized the security team had took the fight with the Varkarian and was now working to subdue him. His attention, however, was drawn to the woman who had inadvertently become a victim of their conflict. A medic was covering her with a blanket, a grim indication of her fate. Bajes, heart sinking, approached the medic, desperate for any hope. "What are you doing? Save her!" he pleaded.
The medic's reply was a somber declaration of the inevitable. "Sir, she's gone. Her brain and the organs dependent on it have ceased functioning. There's nothing first aid or surgery can do at this point."
Bajes processed the medic's words, grappling with the reality before him. It had only been seconds since the woman had intercepted the beam meant for him. The finality was inconceivable. Overwhelmed, Bajes knelt beside her, gently pulling back the blanket to see her face one last time.
Da'Lana arrived just then, witnessing the tragic scene. She attempted to communicate with Bajes, to offer some form of consolation or assistance, but he cut off the connection, locked in his own world of guilt and sorrow. Bajes caressed the cheek of the woman whose name he never learned, whispering a heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry. Had I reacted sooner, you might still be here. This is my fault. Forgive me."
The gathering crowd and the arrival of faculty staff marked the escalation of the incident into a formal inquiry. Bajes, having initiated a distress signal at the onset of the attack, recounted the events to the inquiring faculty, supported by security's confirmation that the Varkarian had indeed launched an unprovoked attack.
"Mr. Terellia, we must investigate your involvement in this incident. Please, come with us," one of the teachers stated, initiating a procedure that, while standard, felt like an added weight on Bajes's shoulders. He complied, nodding solemnly. Da'Lana, determined to stand by Bajes, attempted to join, only to be halted. "Mrs. Darupla, your presence isn't required here. Please, remain behind," the teacher instructed.
Da'Lana's response was swift and firm, highlighting her role not just as a bystander but as someone intent on safeguarding Bajes's interests. "You seem to be under a misunderstanding. My fiancé is the victim here, and I insist on accompanying him to ensure no further prejudice influences the proceedings. Would you really proceed without a representative from Terellia, Professor?" she challenged.
The teacher's rebuttal was procedural, yet dismissive. "His status as a victim remains to be determined. While he is entitled to support, you do not qualify under the required categories of a family member, social worker, or lawyer."
Bajes, sensing the tension and the potential for conflict, gently intervened, reassuring Da'Lana with a touch on her shoulder. "Let it be, Da'Lana. I'll manage," he assured her, embodying a calm amidst the storm.
Da'Lana, though visibly frustrated, acquiesced, allowing Bajes to proceed alone into the faculty room where curious eyes awaited his account. Seated before the assembled faculty, Bajes was prompted to share his version of events, an opportunity to clarify the sequence of actions that led to the tragic outcome.
"Please, tell us everything from your perspective," the teacher urged, signalling the start of Bajes's testimony.
Drawn back to the harsh bite of reality, Bajes found himself being transported, his body wracked with tremors from the cold. Though still immobilized, his vision had cleared, and his psi link was working correctly again, offering him a glimpse into his precarious health status. Amidst the flurry of medical dialogue swirling around him, Bajes caught snippets of conversation regarding his condition, pieced together by the medical team's exchange of complex medical terms.
It became apparent to Bajes that emergency first aid had been administered, halting external bleeding and stabilizing him for the moment. Yet, his external psi skeleton had been removed, leaving only his damaged internal skeleton—akin to an advanced undergarment designed for constant wear—intact to facilitate continuous monitoring until he could be thoroughly examined with diagnostic tools.
Maria's voice pierced through the clinical chatter, her concern evident as she inquired about Bajes's prognosis. The response she received was grim, "15%, maybe 20%? It's uncertain at this point. If there's permanent brain damage... Honestly, it's a miracle any human could withstand such temperatures and survive."
Maria, taking charge in the face of uncertainty, announced her intention to draft a report and assume command until Bajes's brother could arrive, with preparations for a landing module already underway.
As Bajes lay there, his mind wandered through the events that had led them here. They had been under siege for four days, relying on stimulants to forego sleep and sustenance—a measure meant for emergency use, twice at most, yet Bajes had exceeded this with four doses. The strain was palpable among all involved, reaching their physical and mental thresholds. The medical staff, too, must be nearing their limits, having dealt with an influx of 50,000 injured within the first two days alone. The fact that they had managed to hold the line under such conditions was beyond comprehension.