“Whoooo hooo!!! Holy Shit!” I screamed in almost involuntary glee as I desperately clutched the co-pilot seat of the modified 762 Raven Wing.
Glancing over at Cael as he maneuvered it through acrobatic twists and turns, I took a moment to enjoy the memory of his face flushed with adrenaline as he took our ship through its paces.
Ever since speaking with The Archer during my waking dream on Kalo-Mahoi, I’d found myself not only aware of my own dream state, but able to walk freely throughout whatever memory my unconscious mind chose to dwell on.
This one was the first time Cael flew the Raven Wing after Trace finished initial modifications to the flight drive. It had been a fun day. I was so eager to join in on the test flight, and Cael was eager to see what all those mods could do.
He corkscrewed and barrel rolled repeatedly through the azure desert sky, pushing the ship to her limits. It was exhilarating. Glancing over, he tossed me a huge smile. He was having the time of his life. I felt the warmth of his gaze, the comfort of someone I had depended on for a long-time wash over me.
I realized that somewhere along the way, between fighting “Merdudes”, escaping crazed monarchs, stealing precious relics and half-destroying a planet, I had started to heal. The guilt and regret that once engulfed me whenever I thought of my old friends had receded to a dull throb.
Maybe that’s why my subconscious mind was showing me memories of them, now.
“She feels good? Right?” memory me said to Cael. “Trace knows his stuff.”
“He definitely does for a guy who had no formal mechanical training.”
“Formal rules and structures would only limit my creative genius,” Trace said through the communications system.
He was monitoring our exercises from a location nearby. Our crew had been camping out in an old ship graveyard located near a recycling and refueling station on the planet Goran. The inhabitants didn’t much care if a group of space travelers scavenged parts from the broken and discontinued ships. They were all about reusing and repurposing for the health of the galactic ecosystem or something. None of that had mattered to us. We were just looking for quality parts at nearly free prices.
“All right, genius,” Cael said. “She’s impressive, I’ll say. But let’s see how she does under some real stress.”
“How stressed is real stress?” I asked warily, and the smile Cael responded with only increased my trepidation.
“Don’t worry, Skye,” Cael finally said with a laugh. “I’m not going to do anything Trace’s creative genius wouldn’t have accounted for, surely.”
“Don’t break my ship, Cael,” Trace said.
“I believe it’s our ship,” he responded with a chuckle. “Only twenty-five percent is yours, technically.”
“Then consider my 25% the part on the outside, so don’t break that part and you’re good.”
“I’d like my 25% to be this particular part I’m sitting in right now,” I said. “And I’d also like to keep my part intact.”
“Don’t worry, I give you permission to break my part, Cael,” Saphera’s voice entered the coms. She was back at our camp with Trace.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Cael said, jovially. “Trust, teamwork and commitment. You’re a real sweetheart, Pher.”
“Let’s consider her parts the least vital parts for surviv-aaaaaallllll!!!”
My words fell off into a shout as he plunged the ship straight toward the ground.
“Cael...” I said, my voice involuntarily rising an octave as I watched the ground rush up to us. Still he simply smiled but kept his eyes on the controls.
“CAel...” I said, again, this time a note higher.
“CAEL!” This time it was Trace as my stomach lodged in my throat no longer permitted me to speak.
“Hang on!!” he half yelled, half laughed.
A scant 100 units from the ground, Cael pulled on the steering mechanism and punched several buttons on the control dais. The tail of the ship swung around as he fishtailed the Raven Wing 180 degrees until it was pointing back the way we came. He punched another set of controls and the ship took off once again, fighting against gravity and momentum to pull us back into the sky.
Despite inertial dampeners, I found myself plastered to my co-pilot seat. Even in the dream, I could feel the wash of relief as we accelerated away from the ground.
Cael was laughing like an idiot as Trace shouted obscenities at him through the coms. I remember that I had also been giving Cael an earful, not that it phased him. But this time, I just sat in my seat and joined in the laughter, enjoying the opportunity to relive this memory.
I glanced over at him again, as his laughter faded. But it wasn’t Cael sitting in the pilot seat anymore. It was Dick.
This must be the point. I had noticed that every one of these dream memories included something different in them than I remembered. It always seemed to point to something important that someone or something was trying to tell me. Whether it was my unconscious, The Archer, or something else, I never knew.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Dick.
His back was turned toward me, as if he was trying to hide something from my sight. Reaching out, I pulled on his shoulder and turned him to face me. One of his eyes was completely blacked out, even the white part. The other glowed with a dim yellow tint.
“What the hell?” I said, pulling my hand back and standing up slowly.
He didn’t speak, only stood to face me, as if trying to pin me into the pilot area. I took a cautious step to the side, and he mirrored it, as if he was stalking me.
“Dick?” I tried again.
I knew this was a dream, but the fear I experienced felt real and uncontrollable. Still, he did not reply. Slowly, I noticed his body shifting, contorting in the way his transformations sometimes looked. This was different, however. It looked painful as his lips drew back in a snarl and he howled in agony.
Howled. Literally howled.
What the hell was he turning into? Okay, it’s time to wake up.
But although I had complete awareness in the dreams and some control of my actions, I couldn’t seem to wake myself up.
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Slowly Dick’s figure grew and twisted. He was now about eight feet tall; his elbows and knees were inverting to resemble those of a dog. The look on his face took on a feral, rabid appearance as hair emerged all over his body. He had already ripped his clothes from his body with clawed hands as if the feel of them choked him.
His now enormous frame partially blocked the way out. I was trapped. He was going to lunge at me. I could sense it, and in the tiny control room, I had no room to dodge.
I can’t die in a dream, right?
Still, a scream ripped its way free of my lips as the large wolf-like creature that once was Dick leapt at me with a snarl.
* * *
As I jerked awake from the dream, the feeling of dread did not dissipate. Nor did the tingling sense that I needed to get on my feet and into a more defensible stance. After years of living as an Outlaw, constantly putting myself in dangerous situations, I never doubted my survival instincts.
With a heaving kick-up, I launched myself into a crouch on my feet and scanned the common room where I had fallen asleep. It was empty and dark, save a few dim ambient lights set into the sunken gathering area of the room. They helped me not stumble into things, but didn’t quite illuminate the dark corners of the room. The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and I swiveled, bringing my hands up in front of me, my light daggers manifesting in my hands as I did.
The glow illuminated one of the darkened hallways leading to the living quarters; inside it, stood a shadowy figure. I could make out the faint yellow glow in what would be the figures face.
“Oh, shit.” I said, wondering briefly if I was still in the dream. This can’t really be happening right?
Just as the thought bloomed, the beast from my dream, fully formed, emerged into the dim light cast by my blades.
“Whatever the hell you’re up to, it’s not funny, Dick.”
No response. The creature moved silently deeper into the room toward me, hunched over, claws out. I maneuvered carefully to put objects in between us as obstacles. As I did so, I studied its face. There was no recognition in its eyes, only vicious rage. Its face was pulled tight in a hellish, perpetual snarl. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be sure it was Dick if not for the necklace hanging around the creature’s neck.
It was that Lycan tooth thing he bought in New Horizon City. It was the only identifiable item on the hairy beast he had become.
Suddenly, it lunged. But just as in the dream, my instincts could feel it coming. Unlike in the dream, I had given myself plenty of space to dodge, and I swiped at his arm with my blade as he passed. The creature howled in pain, and turned to attack again. It had just been a nick to see if the pain would somehow pull him out of whatever stupor he was under.
This time his attack was more calculated. The creature feigned one way, then pounced another, throwing me off guard and barreling into me full-force. I shifted my weight and let the impact fling me without resistance over his shoulder. I rolled over his back and twisted to kick him forward farther away from me, using his own momentum to put some distance between us.
“Supernova,” I chanted, and my hand lit up with a tiny spark of light. Rather than the burst of blinding light, I used my control over the smaller, dimmer version to distract the beast around the commons room, magnifying and dimming its brightness to confuse my opponent as he continued to lunge at me.
“God’s dammit, you asshole! Wake up before you make me kill you!” I shouted in frustration as a claw ripped through the fleshy part of my thigh.
My entire strategy had been about dodging and distracting and making as much noise as possible. I needed the others to hear and join us.
Assuming they’re not dead, already.
I pushed that horrifying thought out of my mind. I needed more than my own skills and strengths to subdue Dick without outright killing him. The twinge of my leg-wound reminded me that I couldn’t keep taking blows without doing something to slow him down.
He’ll heal, I thought to myself without regret as he lunged at me again. This time, however, I raked my blade along the tendons in his left leg. He gave another guttural howl.
I continued to dodge most of his clawing, but I noticed he was adapting. Rather than wildly swinging at me, he was biding his time, attempting to corral me into a corner of the room. I couldn’t let that happen.
“Salvere,” I chanted quickly, brushing my hand over the wound in my thigh.
It was the incantation I had chosen to activate my newly acquired healing tattoo. Technically, my tattoos did not required words to activate, but training with a repeated incantation often helped Zodians use their abilities more efficiently. I didn’t have time to fully mend my leg, but the quick incantation would at least take the pain away so I could maneuver.
It gave me just enough juice to dodge his full-on lunge as he came barreling into the wall just inches from where my face had just been. Before I could recover, however, the beast swiped backwards with a long arm as he turned. Razor sharp claws scraped across my back, ripping through my clothing and skin. The force of the swipe propelled me across the room. I gave an involuntary yelp of pain as I sprawled across the floor.
As I turned, I could feel him lunge at me again. I was pretty sure I couldn’t dodge this one.
Fuck. I didn’t want to do this.
I flipped over on my ravaged back and mentally reached out preparing to whisper another incantation. Just as I was about to unleash a more destructive attack on the creature, a figure crashed into him from the side, ripping the beast out of its attack mid-air and tackling it to the ground. Pinning the creature to the ground, Cash drew a bionic fist back ready to deliver a blow that would surely cave the thing’s face in.
“Cash, wait! That’s Dick!”
He pulled the punch at the last moment, but it still packed a lot of heat. The beast howled in pain and frustration, thrashing to throw Cash off balance. The two wrestled but it became clear that the Lycan was too agile to pin down permanently.
Pulling out the light blaster I had purchased in New Horizon City, I concentrated on carefully calibrating the amount of energy I wanted to channel into my shot. Rather than being powered like a traditional laser or plasma blaster, this one was crafted to run off my Zodian light energy, which meant I could manipulate how powerful the shots were.
I took aim at Dick. It was a tricky shot with he and Cash tumbling about, throwing blows, but close-quarters marksmanship was my forte. I just hoped I had the energy dialed in right as I was trying to subdue Dick without killing him or doing irreparable harm. I had no idea how much lethality that would take. It was a literal best guess.
My shot found its mark, sinking into the fleshy part of its hindquarters. The beast howled in agony and thrashed around on the floor. Cash moved back, giving it space to flail. Blood poured from the wound I had inflicted and the creature slipped and stumbled in its own blood as it fell flat to the ground panting.
Did I overdo it? I worried.
I readied my healing ability, knowing I didn’t dare use it until the creature was unconscious.
“Damn, Skye, I could have done that,” Cash said. “I thought the point was not to kill him.”
“It won’t kill him...shouldn’t kill him...”
I looked at Cash who was watching the thing whimper in agony, its breathing labored. He threw me a skeptical look as he met my gaze.
“Probably,” I finished.
As the creature started to subside into unconsciousness, it began to transform. Bones reshaped into a humanlike resemblance, hair receded, and long snout full of sharp teeth retracted. After only a few short moments, a naked and bleeding Dick lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood.
I knelt beside him, reaching for the wound I had inflicted and activating my healing tattoo.
“It’s a good thing he’s unconscious,” Cash said teasingly. “Otherwise he’d definitely never let you live this down.”
He nodded to where my hand was gently cupping Dick’s naked ass cheek as I focused my healing abilities on the wound I had created there. I rolled my eyes, sighing in exasperation.
“Can we please not tell him?” I begged in frustration.
“I don’t know, seems like fair retribution for keeping all the fun of shooting him to yourself.”
I shook my head, chuckling. We were both covered in wounds and scratches ourselves.
“I hope those ancient werewolf stories from the old world are exaggerated,” I said.
“You mean the one where you get bit or scratched and turn into one, too?” he asked warily, staring at his wounds with his bionic eye.
I could tell he was scanning himself to see if there was any contamination infecting his wounds.
“Nope,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Nothing remarkable about these wounds. At least not that I can detect.”
“Can you detect it in Dick?” I asked, pointedly.
He gave a quick glancing scan of Dick and the blood smears on the floor.
“No...not without further inspection of his blood at least.”
“There’s plenty around to check out,” I suggested.
“Oh, hell no! His blood is probably full of stupid foreign things, he absorbs DNA. I’m not subjecting myself to whatever bloodborne diseases, mutations and, most likely, sexually transmitted diseases he has swimming around in there.”
“Or potential werewolf curses,” I added.
We shared an uncertain look.
“I’m sure its fine.”
“Yeah, totally fine.”