Pain. It was all encompassing, all enveloping. I floated in that pain, unable to form enough of a thought to remember why I was here and why I was hurting. Fire rushed through my veins and ice froze in my organs. I could feel nothing, see nothing, hear nothing but the pain. I saw a pulsing black cloud, each pulse corresponding with a fresh wave of pain that wracked my body.
There was nothing in my ears but a dull roaring, the sound of a waterfall breaking apart on sharp rocks. I was carried in that raging torrent to be cast upon the shards, dashed to pieces, only to be lifted back up and dropped again. I tasted bitter iron and smelled acrid vapors. I did not know who I was, only that I hurt.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the pain retreated, the cloud grew paler and the waterfall narrowed to a trickle. The ocean of pain shrank, bit by bit, to a sea, then a lake, then a river, then to a little stream. It did not leave completely, but it was as a candle before the wildfire it had been. As the pain left, thought returned.
My name was Tedix Jaku. I was 33 years old and I was a physical impossibility. For the last two years of my life, I had been travelling with a human named Clint Stone. We had crossed the stars and joined the Rebellion against the Swrun Empire. I was chained to a table because I had tried to save a child.
My eyes opened and beheld a rock ceiling illuminated by a light source behind me. The same thing I had seen for three days. Three days of pain. At the thought, the stream widened to a river, but I forced it down. It was surprising what you could do when you put your mind to it. For the first day, I could do nothing against the pain. It threw me wherever it wished, leaving me completely at its mercy. It had none.
The second day, I had learned to ignore the pain, for the most part, when it was manageable. When it was fresh, there was nothing I could do. But after the pain left and I could think, I could ignore the last vestiges of the pain floating in my veins. The third day, today, I had managed to banish the pain when it had grew weak enough. But I knew more was to come. It always did.
“I see you’ve awoken,” said a smooth, silky voice from somewhere above my head. I had come to hate that voice. With that voice came pain. “I must say, this is most impressive. I’ve never had someone hold out as long as you. All sorts of beings have graced that table, from gutter children to mighty soldiers. Every time, with no exception, they break and loss their grip on reality within a day. But not you.”
I saw the dark outline of the speaker outlined by the light loom over my body. I felt a finger tap my forehead. “What is it in there that prevents it? What anchors you here? Were I a philosophical being, I think I would find you an interesting subject. But I’m not a philosopher and you are complicating my schedule.”
The finger left my forehead and I felt the tip of a needle touch my shoulder, the signal that fresh pain was about to erupt. “Wait!” I tried to yell. My voice was hoarse and my throat felt like a bag of sand had been poured down it and the word came out no louder than a whisper. The needle paused, just touching my skin.
“You can still speak?! This is truly wondrous. Hold on, I’ll get you some water.” The voice left and I was alone. There was no pain and I was allowed a brief period of lucidity. I quickly took note of my surroundings. The same as they had been when I first been brought here, a bare rock ceiling and a cold table to lie on. My limbs were still in chains and my head was secured.
I gave a brief tug on my chains. My limbs flared in protest. My muscles ached to the deepest fiber and my joints screamed at me. But I forced the pain down and tested the bonds holding me. They were still secure, much like the last time I had tried. I heard footsteps and I stopped struggling, trying to conceal the fact I was still trying to escape.
A shadow passed of my face and something cold and wet touched my lips. Water. I opened my mouth and drank greedily from the cup. It was awkward with my head immobilized, but I gulped it down anyway. Before I knew it, the water was gone. I drew a deep breath and felt it whistle against the cool insides of my throat, now less parched than before.
A dragging sound came from my left. It sounded like a chair. It stopped beside my table and it creaked as the Kantim sat down. I strained my eyes trying to get a good look at his face, but it was useless. The room was too dark and the table was at a bad angle.
“It’s not every day I get to speak to one of my patients,” said the Kantim in his smooth voice. “Usually they’re incoherent at this point. But what secrets they could tell.”
This being was clearly touched in the head. But I had a respite from the pain and I could use this time to gather information. I tried to speak, found I couldn’t, cleared my throat and tried again. “Why are you doing this?”
The Kantim laughed, a light, breathy laugh. “Straight to the point, I see. You will make a fine soldier. Very well, I will tell you. You are here to go insane.”
“What?”
“Yes, I know! The sheer brilliance of this is almost too much to comprehend.” The Kantim patted my shoulder. He seemed to enjoy physical contact. “You see, what I’m doing here will revolutionize warfare. I don’t think you’ll understand the details, but I must share it with you. Perhaps it will help you.
“The problem with soldiers is that they are weak. Some get frightened, some refuse to kill when they should. Others disobey orders. What I’m doing will change that.” He patted my shoulder again. “You should be proud. You’re going to be one of the first of your kind. A new generation of soldiers who feel no pain, no fear. Utterly ruthless and loyal to the death. Oh, the wonders such an army could do.”
“You’re insane,” I said. What the hell was he doing? Torturing beings until they broke and remolding their minds.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Completely and utterly mad. I admit it. I enjoy it, truth be told. But don’t tell anyone. They’ll lock me away.” He giggled. “And then I wouldn’t be able to have so much fun. That’s no good.”
This had gone from bad to worse. I was chained to a table and there was a crazy Kantim who enjoyed inflicting pain. “But how do you turn them into soldiers?” I asked, stalling for time. Anything to keep the pain away for a little longer. “How do they go from broken to killing machines?”
I heard the smile in the Kantim’s voice as he replied, “Haven’t you been listening? I break them into killing machines. I just jack ‘em full of my own special mixture of Flow. But first I have to break them with the pain. And you are overdue.”
The needle jabbed into my arm. I closed my eyes and prepared to fight the wave of pain. But it did not come. I felt the prick of the needle, but not the burning flood that followed. I looked up at the Kantim as best I could with my head bound and saw him just standing there, with a posture that said he was deep in thought. He raised a finger. “You know what? I think I’ll give you the first cycle of Flow. That may loosen your restraint. Combined with the pain, it should, if my theory…”
He trailed off into faint murmurs, too quiet for me to distinguish what he was saying. The needle left my arm and the dark shape moved out of the light. I heard shuffling and glass clinking. The dark shape returned. “This may hurt,” he said, his voice completely serious. “I’ve never done this before.” His voice returned to its smooth silky tone. “But we’ll just have to see.”
The needle stabbed into my neck and I felt molten steel flow through my veins. This was unlike the pain I had felt before. That had swept me along with it, carrying me in a sea of pain. This drowned me. I sank to the bottom, the pain pushing down, crushing me. Every nerve, every cell of my body was on fire. Each fire fed the next until my body was the fire. There was nothing left except the fire and the pain. I’m sure that I screamed, I’m sure that I thrashed, but I do not remember any of it. All I knew was that fire, surrounding me, engulfing me, becoming me.
My vision went dark, and my mind stopped working.
When I returned to my body, I found that it was no longer made of fire. Instead, it felt like steel, cold and rigid. My muscles were clenched tight, tighter than I had ever felt them before. My fingernails were digging into my palms and I could feel a warmth trickling down them. I opened my hands, the tendons and joints screaming in protest. I focused on the muscles in my limbs and forced them to relax. It was like unbending curved iron, but I managed to do it.
When I had done so, I opened my eyes. They were greeted with a strange sight. They saw the same thing they had always seen, a rock ceiling, but how they saw it was different. I could see every little detail, every crack and divot. The faint color variations were now as clear as day.
I was suddenly aware of the cold table under my back. I felt the table, and the cold. But more than that, I could feel the table, the slope and the structure. I knew what this was. I had never experienced it myself, but I had heard of it. I had seen it, as well. This was the Flow. I could feel it, coursing through my veins, surging with every pump of my heart. I could feel it in my muscles, granting them greater strength than physical possible.
As I was already far stronger than I should have been, thanks to the strange physical changes my body had undergone, the Flow made me strong. I dare say I could have taken Clint in a fight, right then. He would have beaten me, but not due to greater strength. The Kantim did not know what he had just done. He thought he had given Flow to a jahen, a weak race, one prone to cowardice and a lack of will to fight. He thought, even with the Flow, I would be constrained by the chains and I would not be a threat.
He was wrong.
He had given Flow to the jahen who fights, a jahen who shattered the mold the rest of his race fit. I was one of the best fighters in the galaxy, trained by arguably the best of them all. I was not a weak, feeble individual who was going to stay down and accept what life threw at him. I was going to get up after life hit me and say, “Do it again, I dare you.”
I tugged gently at my restraints, getting a feel for my strength. To my delight, I found that one was already loose. It must have happened during my thrashing. I took advantage of that and I wrenched at it with all of my new, Flow-induced strength. It tore out of the table with the squeal of metal on metal. With my right arm free, it was a simple task to free my left. I had to move quickly. They could be back before I finished freeing myself and it would be difficult to fight while tied down.
I tugged at the chains on my head without success, until I found a catch on the side. They fell off and I sat up. After three days of laying flat, my body was not used to vertical movement and I grew dizzy for the slightest moment before regaining control. It must have been the Flow. It was wonderful stuff. I fiddled with the chains on my legs for a second before they fell away. I swung my legs over the edge of the table and took in my surroundings.
I was in a bare room, empty but for a single lamp, chair, and four tables. Three of them, including the one I sat on, were identical, with chains and indents. The fourth was covered in a variety of vials, bottles, and needles. With my Flow-enhanced vision, I could see the labels and faintest details on them. It was a disconcerting sight. My brain was not used to processing this, but it adjusted fairly well. As I stumbled out the door, it had already grown used to the change in vision.
The door swung open before I got to it and the Ghurk who had knocked me out walked in. He looked at me, glanced at the table, looked back at me and the color drained from his face. I smiled at him, a deliberately crooked smile. He opened his mouth to shout an alarm, but I leap across the space between us, crossing quicker than possible, fueled by the Flow. My hands latched around his throat before he could draw a breath to shout.
The weight of my body and my momentum carried us out the door and down to the floor. I landed on top of the Ghurk, my hands still clamped tight around his throat. He gurgled, fighting for breath as I squeezed it out of him. His hands scrabbled against mine, but he might as well have tried to dislodge a stone wall. His struggles slowed and ceased as his face turned blue.
I stood. I drew a deep breath and looked down the hallway. I was standing at the end, with only one way out. I knew from Wyena’s description of the complex that through the door at the end would lead into the main chamber. That was the way out. But first I had to find the one I had come here to save and Wyena.
As I walked down the hallway, I noticed three doors. Moving quietly so I did not draw attention, I stepped to the first door. It was not that I did not want to fight, I was planning on finishing off the rest of this gang anyway, but I had to find Wyena first and that was easier to do without a horde of attackers on my back. I forced the door open and I found nothing. It was an empty storage room, shelves lining the walls, stocked with cans and other dried foods. My stomach growled, but I ignored it.
The second door was stuck. I forced my shoulder against it and it fell inwards. I held it as it collapsed, guiding it gently to the ground. It made a quiet thump, but it was quiet enough to escape notice. The room I found myself in was the armory. Guns lined the walls, along with knives and other assorted weaponry. I picked up several knives, sliding them into my belt. I hefted a large rifle, then put it back, opting for a pair of pistols.
I looked out of the door, making sure that I was alone in the hallway. I was. The third door was unlocked and so I opened it. I was greeted with the sight of a female lying on the ground, her back to me. I dropped to my knees beside her and rolled her over onto her back. It was Wyena. She was dead. I could see the angry needle marks in her arm, ones that matched mine. She had been given the same drug as I had, but she had been broken beyond repair.
My hatred for the Kantim grew stronger. He had cast her aside like trash after he had used her. I had not known Wyena long and I felt no attachment to her, but no one deserved what she had gone through. She had simply wanted to save her sister. Instead, she had been subjected to torture and death.
I gently laid her down, pushing myself to my feet. I still had to find the sister.
I turned to leave the room and I saw more shapes in the darkness on the edge of the room. Oh, no. I fumbled for a light switch, Finding it, the lights overhead burst to life, flooding the room. Against the wall were three more corpses. Two were Guen males, in their twenties, by the look of them. The third was a young j’Kuine girl, who I knew instinctively was Wyena’s sister. She too had red puncture wounds on her arm.
My vision flickered. I do not know if it was because of the rage I felt or the surge of Flow that came with it, but my vision seemed to snap and everything was outlined in a nice tinge of red. I was going to kill everyone responsible for this. The Arm members for allowing it and the Kantim was going to get a special treatment. He had taken this child, someone who had done nothing, and he had killed them with a vile torture I would not wish on anyone. Well, all but one.
I could feel my body tense and the Flow raged through my veins. I stormed out of that room and headed for the main chamber. I was going to hunt down every last one of the Arm and see them dead. The door shattered before my furious kick and I strode into the chamber, guns at the ready. I saw only one being, seated at a table. He looked up and I shot him in the face. He slumped backwards, smoke rising from his ruined face.
I headed to the nearest door and I smashed it down with my heel. I could have opened it, but smashing it felt good. In this moment, I knew how Clint felt when he went into his cold, hollow self. There was a point where there was nothing left to do but to kill everyone who deserved it. I had reached that point. I felt liberated by this knowledge. For the first time, I could unchain the beast within and serve retribution on those who deserved it.
It was a strange thought. Before I had met Clint, I had not even thought there might be a beast inside. But I had seen him unleash his several times and I had been frightened by what I saw. Now, it was my turn to be frightening. A being stumbled out of a door, looking for the cause of the noise. She found it in the form of plasma bolts to the chest.
I strode passed her corpse, my mind already focused on the next. I smashing in three more doors with my heel, finding two more living Arms. A few shots from my pistols fixed that problem. But I did not feel satisfied. None of them had fought back, none of them had given me the opportunity to feel them die.
I smashed open the next door. This time I did not raise my guns to fill the room with fire. No, I just stood in the doorway and waited for them to come to me. They needed to be taught that you do NOT make Tedix Jaku angry. There was only one being in the room, a short Bonasi. He took one look at me and fled in terror out the other door. I gave chase.
The door opened into a hallway, one with a single door at the end. The Bonasi ran towards it. He did not get far. My legs, far longer than the Bonasi’s and quickened by Flow, ate up the distance between us. He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened even further when he saw I was right behind him. A single club from my gun sent him flying into the wall, where he fell to the ground, leaving a smear of red on the wall.
When I looked closer at him, I saw his skull had been smashed in. I burst through the door he had be racing for and found myself facing a group of four Arms, each holding a large knife or club. No guns, though. That seemed like an oversight on their part. I smiled at them, putting all of the rage and pain that I had felt for the last three days into it. I saw several faces pale at the sight of it.
I held my arms out and let them see the guns I was holding. I saw their faces grow grim as they realized they were going to die. I dropped the guns. Confusion crossed their faces, then elation. There was a chance they could get out of this! I drew my knives and laughed at their misguided hope. What I had done was not a mercy. This way, they were still going to die, but it was going to hurt so much more.
As one, they rushed me. Time seemed to slow and I moved with precision. I knew it was the Flow that allowed me to move as I did, but would still have killed them Flow or not. This way, I just did it faster. I dragged the edge of my knife across the throat of one of my attackers before he even knew I moved. He fell, clutching his throat, struggling to stem the flow of blood that was drowning him.
A club came at me in an overhand blow and I slide gracefully to the side, swinging my knife up to met the arm in mid-strike. It punched deep, the tip emerging from the other side. At the same time, my other knife blocked the stab of a third attacker. I spun, pulling my knife from the arm and knocking the other blade to the side. Moving faster than their eyes could follow, I lashed out with my foot, sending one attacker sprawling, clutching his chest. It looked like his ribs had been shattered.
The remaining attackers, one with a bleeding arm, attacked from either side of me. I dove between them, lashing out with my knives. One collapsed with a hole spurting blood punctured in his chest. Glancing around himself at the fallen, the last attacker wisely turned and ran. He didn’t get more than three steps before my knife sank to the hilt in his back.
I walked over and pulled the knife from his back without breaking stride. I continued past him, out into the hall. As I did so, I glanced into a mirror. What I saw gave me pause. No wonder that Bonasi had run in fear. What stared back at me out of that mirror was a demon sent straight from hell.
My fur was matted and spiked from three days without grooming, giving my face a wild look. One of my eyes was blood red, the result of a burst blood vessel. That, combined with the truly terrifying look of hatred blazing in my eyes, was enough to frighten me. But only for a moment. I smiled, splitting that demonic face with a crack filled with sharp teeth. I could use this. Fear was very useful in defeating your opponent.
Now I just had to find that Kantim. I had something special planned for him. The large wooden door at the end of the hall seemed promising. When I kicked it down, I found it was indeed the right room. The Kantim was bent over a table, very similar to the one I had been chained to. On that table was another being, one who looked like they had just arrived here. There were no red marks on their arm, nor did they seem to be flailing in pain.
The Kantim turned. “I told you brutes that I need …”
He trailed off as he looked at me. I saw a flicker of fear cross his face, but it vanished, replaced by a blank expression. “It worked!” shouted the Kantim. “You are the most impressive soldier I’ve seen yet.”
He did not seem to fully grasp the situation. I was here to kill him. I enlightened him. “You will pay for the crimes you have committed.”
The Kantim seemed truly confused. “What crimes have I committed? I’ve helped advance the art of the soldier to- Ehrlch.”
That last noise came when my hand closed around his throat. I lifted him high and flung him against the wall. “I’ve heard enough out of your mouth,” I hissed. It was time this monster got a taste of his own medicine. I gripped the Kantim tight and threw him onto an open table. I grabbed one of the chains and secure his hand while he was stunned. I did the next just as quickly. I was not gentle, tightening the chains far beyond comfort, enough to cut off the blood to his hands.
I glanced over to the next table and I saw a vial of clear liquid and a needle. I knew what I was going to do. I held the bottle within the sight of the struggling Kantim and I pushed the needle into it and drew back the plunger. I filled the syringe to the top, much more than I had ever received. I glanced at the Kantim and I saw him staring at me in horror, all traces of insanity gone. In the face of death by pain, he was perfectly lucid.
“You can’t,” he said, his voice pleading. “You don’t know what that stuff does.”
I fixed him with a glare that would have made Clint Stone afraid. The Kantim wilted under that glare, the fear filling his eyes. “I know exactly what this does. And I know you deserve this more than any other being in the universe.”
I stabbed the needle into his arm and depressed the plunger, sending the liquid pain coursing through his veins. I saw his eyes widen. His pupils expanded until they were wider than his irises. I saw veins stand out across his face. His mouth fell open in a wordless scream. It was the most agony filled scream I had ever heard. The sound of it warmed me.
The Kantim thrashed in his bonds, his head whipping back and forth so violently I thought he was going to break his neck. His limbs twitched and danced, contorting into impossible shapes. His eyes were still wide open and I could see them growing red with blood as the blood vessels burst in his eyes. His body suddenly tightened in a perfectly rigid pose, his limbs outstretched, reaching so far I thought the joints were going to explode.
His head was pushed against the table and his eyes gazed sightlessly at the ceiling. Blood leaked from his sockets and dripped onto the table beneath him. He gave one last convulsion and laid still, body still clenched in his final agony. I felt the side of his neck. No pulse.
“Hey, a little help here?”
The voice came from behind me. It was the other patient, the only one who had survived whole. I freed him, and he stood. Tall for a Beiwa, he reached my chin. “Thanks,” he said, clasping my hand. When had that happened? “I wouldn’t have … Hey, are you alright?”
I wasn’t. I had been functioning on an unhealthy mixture of Flow and hatred to keep myself going, but now both were fading away. My muscles gave way and I found myself sitting on the floor. The only thing preventing me from collapsing fully was the support of the Beiwa.
“I think I’m going to need … help up,” I said, my thoughts coming slower. Where was I? What –
My vision faded to black as my body gave into the fatigue and abuse of the last three days.