Darkness.

Stillness.

Nothingness.

Alone?

Alone…

Xant opened his eyes, and stayed still on his office floor.

For a moment, he was lost.

He shifted his hand and felt the woven pattern of the rug beneath his glove. Sensation returned to him, stiff body, aching muscles and dry eyes. He moved his arms to lift himself up and he became more aware of his surroundings. He was in his office, darkness around him, the rug to his left, desk to his right, the terrarium in front of him. Then he remembered what was attached to himself, his clothes, his jacket, his gloves, and the medipen still attached to the back of his neck. Xant raised his hand slowly, as if the tension of every muscle was new and untested. His fingers grasped the tool, stopping and squeezing the foreign object, deciding how much pressure was needed to remove it.

A small tug.

A brief moment of chill as the skin was relieved of the pen.

A drop of blood trickled down his back, concerning, but only in the way he ignored it.

Xant sat on his office floor, quiet.

He remembered now, the events leading up to his current state. The natural Frequency talk with Sieglinde, the rapid emotional shift Jasmine had had between pure joy and undiluted fear, the amount of depressor chems he had used to stabilise his condition.

It was natural for him to be disorientated.

Yes.

Natural.

He inspected the Medipen and the canister attached to it. He had used an entire vial. He shook his head, no wonder he was so slow! He craned his neck and pushed to sit up at his desk stool.

“Time…” His order drawn out.

“The time is 1315.” his room replied pleasantly. Xant sat still again.

1315.

“How long have I been in ‘do not disturb’?” He asked the computer.

“Eight [hours] and 25 [minutes]” The room’s computer happily informed him.

Xant did not enjoy the news.

He had been unconscious for his entire rest period and an extra two [hours] on top of that. How? How could he have slept so long? Even with the suppressors that was an inordinately long time. He must have been pushing his limits. His eyes ran over the finer details of the vial, then, to the contents of the open drawer. He had two more depressor vials, he’d need to put in a request for more with Krydon. By Xant’s estimate, he would need three doses a [day] to keep his VEFS in check. One third in the first quarter before meditation, another before an interview, and the last before rest. A vial a [day].

It wasn’t an unheard of amount, but Xant knew the implications of long term use, the damage that could be done if he overdosed. Not just to his physical self but to his reputation, too easily Zenthi fell to the ills of pharmaceutical indulgence. He could ruin his entire library of accomplishments if he couldn’t keep himself from addiction. Then there was the damage that could be done if Jasmine unwittingly shifted her emotions again and he was unprepared, VEFS could have him unable to finish his work. Jittering and stammering through the simplest of tasks, forgetting function and action. He’d be taken off the station and Jasmine would be assigned a new researcher. Xant could end up a slow, dull drone, or an erratic, distracted temperamental.

There was no easy choice.

There was no easy answer.

He reached into the drawer and changed the empty vial for a new one, careful to give himself the appropriate amount. He pulled off his glove and rolled up his sleeve. A quick jab to the forearm, to space the time for the cooling liquid to numb his senses. The worry would soon melt away, he could concentrate on the task at hand.

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This was the time put aside for meditation, more exposure to Jasmine’s Frequencies would help him to build a tolerance, then he could slow the dose of chems.

She was probably waiting for him.

“Remove ‘do not disturb’, turn on the lights and read out my messages.” He instructed the room, rising slowly to collect the appropriate dataslate.

CPT Rynard: Dr. Xant, uhh, when your rest quarter is up you can find Jasmine with me in the security office. I’ll run her through a few drills, nothin hard though. Hear from you soon.

Xant just about dropped his dataslate from the shelf, Rynard was running Jasmine through drills? Jasmine was a civilian by all accounts, even with her high level Frequency manipulation she wasn’t built for the demands of military exercises. Xant’s ears twitched, with a newfound urgency he stormed over to his wardrobe and tapped the sensor. The rack slid out from the wall and he ripped a fresh coat from the rail. His messages continued to play.

ED Laandi: Xant, please find the new schedule I have updated to your terminal, Jasmine and I have come to an agreement about the User Level Sieglinde. The new schedule will commence next rest quarter.

Xant stopped mid sleeving of his white coat, Laandi had spoken with Jasmine. Alone, without his knowledge or consent. He clenched his jaw and swept his coat on with one swift movement. Placing his dataslate into the right hand pocket he continued out his quarters and down to the elevator. If there was anyone who would be able to take the pulses of Xant’s malcontent, it was Rynard.

-*-

HISSSSSSS

Pink liquid pumped out of the armour press, draining out several tubes and disappearing into the wall. The giant rectangular machine hummed, and let out a burst of steam before unveiling the prize within. The automatic door unlatched and a small, grey suit stood, glistening in the light of the security office.

“Whoaaaaaaaa! (Whoaaaaaaaa!)” Jasmine breathed, running up to the machine.

“See, told you it wouldn’t take long. Got about the same amount of material as my forearm armour.” Rynard shrugged, a small smile in the corner of his mouth as he felt the pleasant waves of excitement flowing off the little alien. Sieglinde barked happily by Rynard’s side, her collar tied to a makeshift leash of electrical cable.

“It’s... so frickin’ cool...” Jasmine murmured again, circling the suit on the platform. Her fingers brushed over the surface, shiny and smooth, like fresh plastic. Large plates overlapped each other attached to a plushy leather-like material, looking closely she could see the circuitry interwoven over the leather.

“How do I put it on?” She looked up to Rynard, an expectant gaze on her face.

“See that blue light on the collar?” he pointed to one on his own suit. “Touch the sensor and stand back, the hard suit will flip open and you can climb inside.”

Jasmine took a step back and extended her finger to swish it over the blue light. A small pshhh, then the grey panels cracked open, folding out a piece at a time from the back.

Rynard raised an eyebrow as Jasmine gasped, she was completely enamoured with the armour. He’d seen that look on scientists before, when they had found something ‘fascinating’ like a plant or a fried bit of electrical panel, it was rewarding to see that it could also be applied to something he understood the value of.

“(This can’t get any freaking cooler).” Her mind enchanted, she carefully stepped into the suit. It was still warm from the press, the interior soft and cushiony. She slid her hands in first and it fit perfectly, almost too perfectly. Rynard had put her through a whole body scanner, but the actual results were nothing short of immaculate. As she leaned in to slide her feet in she felt the suit contour to her legs for an easier transition. Smart suit. She wished her normal clothes were as accommodating.

“When you’re ready just tap your chin on the collar,” Rynard called “The Suit will know you’re ready to clamp up!” Jasmine nodded, reaching her chin out and bumping the collar, then she felt it move. One by one the plates snapped back into place, the leather wrapping around her skin, giving a tight but secure fit. Her heart was racing as the final plate clicked on her back and she could move for the first time. She felt like an Arthurian knight freshly minted in armour, ready to defend those who could not fight.

“(It’s so light…)” Jasmine marveled, moving first the fingers, then her arm, before tapping her toe to the ground. It was so good to wear shoes again. She then tested every point of mobility, stretching out and swinging her arms. “I thought it would be really heavy, but it’s lighter than dirt bike armour!” She thumped her chest piece and felt a hollow echo.

“Well, it’s mostly to protect you from Nerv shot, ain’t nothing really gonna protect you from an activated Seg’ sword or a Melter.” Rynard chuckled, and Jasmine cast her eyes to the weapons display on the far wall. A dozen or so swords and rifles hung locked up in three distinct racks, encased in clear, glass like vaults.

“You’re not cleared for any of that so don’t go setting your ambitions too high.” Rynard laughed.

“I wasn’t I swear! (I’d probably just hurt myself.)” She replied honestly raising her hands in mock surrender.

“Good.” The Captain grabbed Sigi’s leash and motioned toward the large doors of the training room. “We’ll start of with a few simple drills and work our way up, and if you prove to me you’re not just another big head with the wrong genes stuck in you, then we might be able to ‘break the glass’.”

Jasmine stood to attention and saluted her enormous instructor.

“Yessir!” she replied firm, and Rynard felt another pulse. This one was different from the light waves of joy she had been giving off before. He felt a knot below his ribcage, tickling unpleasantly, tightening the longer he stared at her in silence.

“Well! Come one then!.” He ordered. “Let’s start with some laps!”