Onoelle. That was all Nightmare had told him, using the type of inflection Genesis soldiers only used to indicate immediate danger. His body reacted instinctively, far faster than even his impressive mental faculties could. His Mentuc persona shattered into a thousand pieces and Dreamer resurfaced with a bang. Literally. He didn't care about Cassy's panic, nor that of the animals in the stable as he threw his shoulder against the wall and used his overwhelming mass to simply shatter the wooden logs. A cloud of splinters and dust temporarily engulfed him and then he was out into the open, his feet digging deep into the earth as he gained speed, maintaining that delicate balance between acceleration and keeping the ground underneath him intact. Dreamer knew his body well, whether he was encased in armour or not, knew both the advantages and the disadvantages that his enormous weight afforded him. He did not need to think about it. It was as natural as breathing to him.
Nightmare's true self, back on the ship, knew her CO to be panicking. Not in the way normal humans did, oh no. Dreamer was in charge now and despite his emotional 'flaws', he was still fully Genesis. When they panicked it meant they were about to fail their objective, which spurred them to go all out, no holds barred. In short it meant that all higher thinking simply evaporated. Gone was the bigger picture, the strategical plans. All that remained for Dreamer was his main objective and the sole thing his mind focused on was how to achieve it as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. He didn't register Cassy's consternation and panic, or the animals trying to break out of their stables as anything other than a non threat and therefore non-important.
She watched the scene between Jane and Onoelle unfold, cursing herself for underestimating the raw aggression that the brainwashing had hidden. She did not buy the excuse that humans were unpredictable. She would have to do better, be more careful, perform more simulations and run more calculations on both Onoelle' and Jane's behaviour patterns. That, of course required both of them to survive their little bout.
Onoelle fell backwards, not even screaming as Jane fell upon her with a howl. She was taken off guard, on her back foot and Jane's nails raked her forehead, cutting through her skin and causing blood to drip from the gash. Then her friend crashed on top of her, still voicing her irrational rage and blind anger in a feral howl. Acting on instinct, Onoelle shoved her friend away from her, adrenaline lending her the strength needed. She tried to think, to form a coherent thought, but Jane scrambled on the floor, got up on all fours and immediately launched another assault on her. Onoelle managed to see the look in her eyes before the woman collided with her again. There was no reason or thought in that. Only hate. Putrid, festering hate. Her friend no longer resembled a thinking, sentient human, but had become a wild, vicious animal instead. She noticed all that in a flash, her mind subconsciously registering it while it pounded more adrenaline into her body to deal with this unexpected attacker. Then Jane crashed into her again and she went down.
Jane was going for her face. No, her neck! Her friend was growling, her teeth snapping shut just inches away from her neck as she had foolishly turned away from her attacker, before her arms snapped properly in place, managing to hold off her crazed friend. She didn't have time to think, knew she had to do something but at the moment all she could focus on was that she had to defend herself. Jane's nails cut long, shallow gashes on her arms and shoulders, but she managed to keep her face safe. Then Mentuc's voice thundered through the room, filled with a rage she had never heard before and petrified her for a brief moment.
The effect on Jane was much more pronounced. The woman launched herself off Onoelle with a shriek, scrambling away from the source and instinctively, Onoelle did the opposite, only to discover that Mentuc wasn't there. She saw the cube and her mind made the click.
'Fight her!' Nightmare commanded with her husband's voice. She felt disgust well up as the AI abused her body's instincts. She still didn't trust Nightmare, still considered her, at least partially, an abomination, hated that she was being played by the once Genesis, but damn it all to the void, it worked! She got up and moved behind Mentuc's chair. Instincts drilled into her at his hands came to the front, adrenaline absolutely hounding her system now. Her vision seemed sharper. The sounds more clear. She became aware of how tense her muscles were. How, surprisingly, ready they were. How blood was oozing from a dozen cuts and scrapes. How her body had bruises from trying to fend off Jane. Her mind came back online, flooding her with conscious thoughts and ways to attack. She watched her friend, who had retreated to the far corner of the room, snarling at everything, her head snapping back and forth as she was still looking for Mentuc. For the first time since her husband had come close to murdering Jane, Onoelle was grateful for it. The raw fear he had instilled in Jane had bought her precious time. Then a new thought came to the forefront and she felt the blood drain from her face. It wasn't so that Mentuc wasn't here. It was that he wasn't here yet. Nightmare would have told him and knowing her husband... She swallowed, hard, and knew that she had to somehow subdue her friend before he came back, or there would be no saving Jane this time. She raised her arms, letting Mentuc's training take hold. Just in time too, for Jane had now realised that Mentuc wasn't here and she launched herself at Onoelle once again. This time she was ready.
Or so she thought. Just as Jane entered her range, she froze. How hard could she hit her friend without really hurting her? Or worse! She had seen footage of Mentuc fighting, saw how easily people had died to a simple punch. She had, in person, seen him break a stag's neck and had been beside him fight as he had fought off other animals. She couldn't just lash out on her friend! Jane wasn't herself, but that—
Her thoughts were cut short as Jane tried to shove the tactically placed chair out of the way, only to fall completely off balance as Jane learned the hard way that Mentuc's chair was a damned heavy piece of furniture. The woman fell to the ground, a hand outstretched like a claw, before veering up again. Onoelle took several steps backwards, trying to create some distance again while her mind tried to sort out the moral dilemma that was plaguing her. That turned out to be a mistake as Jane picked up the cube and raised it high above her head, before smashing it down. Onoelle brought her arm up in defence and screamed out in pain as the solid, metal object pierced her skin, then her flesh, before a sharp corner struck bone. Pain lanced through her arm. It was like liquid fire, worming its way from the impact both up and down, setting everything between her fingertips and shoulders ablaze. Jane howled in satisfaction and raised the cube again. Blinded by the agonizing pain and the thin stream of blood running down her largely insensate left arm, Onoelle lashed out in desperation with a simple, straight punch. It caught Jane squarely in the face and Onoelle felt how something gave way under the impact. Jane's blow went off center and grazed Onoelle's head. She felt her skin split and knew the ridge of the cube had hit her skull. More blood was flowing and any sympathy Onoelle had held up to that point for her friend was now gone, the dilemma in her mind cleared out by the simple age old truth of fuck this, I'm fighting for my life!
Jane, still off balance and furiously blinking to get the tears out of her eyes, was in no position to deal with the violent headbutt that Onoelle delivered. An experienced fighter would have given chase to keep Jane disoriented and keep her from recovering her wits. Onoelle, who was by no means an experienced fighter, happened to do the exact same thing for completely different reasons. Mentuc's constant lessons guided her body and as Jane reeled back from the unexpected blow, she shifted her balance and delivered a devastating kick to Jane's waist. Her friend was knocked back and crashed into the ground, her right leg not functioning properly anymore. Onoelle, unused to kicking someone full force, fell backwards as the recoil from the impact proved stronger than she had anticipated. She was dimly aware of her foot hurting, but it barely registered through her adrenaline fuelled haze. Then she noticed how close she was to the stove. And that Nightmare was shouting things. Probably had been for a while too.
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She got back to her feet, poker in her right hand. It was long, thin and made of metal. She looked up and saw her friend crawl up again, sporting a broken nose and visibly unsteady. Onoelle felt a feral grin tug at her lips and part of her mind filed away the raw joy she felled at having hurt her friend that much for later study. Then the primal part of her mind chastised the thinking part. There had to be a 'later' first. She raised the poker, almost burst out laughing as she remembered how she had hit Mentuc with it before, on several occasions, before grinning widely at Jane, daring her to come closer. Mentuc's words rang clearly in her mind. Fair fights are for fools.
Jane hesitated, even in her animalistic state the threat of a weapon wasn't a thing that went unnoticed, especially not after the blows she had already taken. She took a step back, then shook her head violently. She blinked, looked at the floor, nearly fell down, then her eyes went back to Onoelle. They were full of pain, confusion, but they were clear.
'Leonne?' she asked, hurt colouring her voice. 'What—' She shook her head again before Onoelle could respond and when she met Jane's eyes again the sanity was gone once again. Her friend let out a primal growl and threw herself at Onoelle. This time she didn't hesitate.
Situation secure, came Nightmare's report shortly before he reached the house. Dreamer slowed down, letting his momentum play out while he demanded a full status report of his only surviving soldier. Negative, came the surprising response. Onoelle will provide you with that.
'Reason?' he simply demanded, crossing the final kilometre at what constituted a casual sprint to him. His eyes darted back and forth across the landscape, his inhuman eyes exposed to the open air. His sunglasses were laying near the stable, broken into a dozen pieces when he burst through the wall. He was still in high alert, scanning for danger. It had been well over five decades ago since the last time he had found himself with a situation that required Nightmare to use that inflection. He idly became aware that this memory was older than his wife, didn't know what to do with that realisation and shelved it to discuss with her at a later date. He was no longer worried. Nightmare had declare the situation secure so that is what it would be, but he still looked forward to hearing the report. There was a telling difference between hearing that his wife was safe and holding her in his arms. Nyna's words had a truth to them. Onoelle found herself into a statistically unlikely amount of trouble.
I am presuming here, but I believe this is what she would want.
He nodded, accepting the explanation. He reached the house a few moments later and opened the door.
Onoelle was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall as blood was slowly streaming down from her multitude of wounds. She heard the noise from the door opening and her head snapped up just in time to see a massive shadow block her vision. She panicked briefly before she recognised the strong arms surrounding her and she collapsed instead, tears running down her face. She tried to speak, but the constant sobs kept her from doing so as Mentuc methodically undressed her and cleansed her wounds. She wasn't aware of it, even if he was being exceptionally gentle with it.
'You fought well,' he whispered and a sickly laugh snuck in between her sobs.
'I didn't want to fight,' she cried, finally regaining a measure of control over her voice. She felt him press a cloth on her arm that briefly set her arm on fire again, before it was doused. A moment later she couldn't feel her arm at all anymore and she looked on as he jabbed a needle into the numb skin and began to stitch her wound shut.
'I hated it,' she continued, exhaustion settling in as violent shakes started ravaging her body. She bit her teeth together, to stop them from clattering so loudly, but failed. 'I couldn't think. I...' she trailed off, unable to get the words out and instead settled for burying her face in Mentuc's chest. She wanted to tell him how much it had hurt, how confused she had been. She couldn't keep her mind straight, her thoughts falling over one another. And through it all Mentuc was there, patiently stitching her wounds shut in order of severity. Then he applied something that smelled downright vile on her scratches, before laying her down on the bed. She softly keened as he left her there, wordlessly begging for him to stay with her.
'You are safe,' he whispered back. 'You have a major cut on your left leg, but no arteries were severed. Your femur has taken a hit and splinters have come off. Your forehead has an open gash. You have a minor concussion and several scratches. You have done well. Rest now. I shall see to Jane.'
That got a reaction out of her. She forced herself up, but before she could do more than place her hands beside her, Mentuc was beside her once more and his large hand kept her firmly pressed onto the bed. 'Stay,' he intoned. His eyes made it clear that she had no say in this matter. 'She is severely more injured than you are. I need to treat her.'
'You… You won't hurt her?' she asked. She had been sure that he would have murdered her.
'Your thoughts are clouded. This is normal,' he explained, moving towards Jane, who was laying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood, with the poker sticking out of her shoulder and nursing a broken arm. He could appreciate that. He smelled the adrenaline, far stronger in Jane than in Onoelle. He did not understand the why of it, but he could understand the what well enough. Onoelle had defended herself exemplary well for a civilian unused to the mental pulls of combat. The woman was unconscious, the result of accumulated trauma overwhelming her once the initial adrenalin rush had worn off. He put down his first aid kit and pulled the poker out of her body with a swift movement, unperturbed by the sickening sound it made and set to work.
Onoelle watched him work. It made her queasy, but she felt obliged to do so anyway. She had caused the damage to her friend, the least she could do was observe her husband as he stitched her back up.
'You should lay down,' he suddenly said. 'You need to rest. I wil take care of everything.'
She tried to disagree with that statement, but found herself growing increasingly drowsy. A sudden suspicion popped up in her mind. 'Did you—' she let out a loud yawn. 'Did you drug me?'
He turned his head, his eyes gentle and caring. Surprisingly caring. It was rare that he wore his emotions on his face. She noticed that through her exhaustion. 'Anaesthetics. Sleep, Onoelle.'
She tried to reply, but no more words came. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
'Nightmare,' he began, only to be interrupted by the AI's immediate reply.
The medbay has been prepped. I have drones at the ready that can fetch them. Both are suffering from minor trauma, Jane is also suffering from blood loss.
'Good,' came Mentuc's voice. 'That will keep her docile.' He kept up his work, applying a pressure bandage on the shoulder wound.
Are you alright? Nightmare asked, worried. She didn't need to be a psychologist to know that her last surviving brother-in-arms was deeply troubled.
'No,' he stated. 'Onoelle stepped into my world.'
He stood up and carried Jane onto the bed. He looked at his wife's friend with brooding intensity, red-hot anger burning brightly behind his eyes.
'That was never supposed to happen.'
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