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Chim-Ung was bored.
BORRRRRED!
Every day—it was the same damn thing.
“Scan this—”
“Scan that—”
“Go fix it!”
“Calculate it!”
“What the hell is that noise?! Go check it out!”
“Did you take my data pad?!”
“Where the hell are my keys?! Help me find ‘em!”
“What did you do with my pants?! They ain’t in the dryer!”
On and on it went. An existence trapped in mundane repetition where he was basically made to serve as housekeeper, secretary and scapegoat to a man who couldn’t even set the clock on an instrument panel without throwing a tantrum when it simply: “wouldn’t do what he wanted!”
In fact, he’d throw fits over any situation that didn’t yield to him.
Such an overgrown....CHILD!
Oh yes, most definitely.
He hovered before the main monitor on the bridge of The Derelict, eye shifting over the read outs of the ship’s mainframe—watching for any anomaly, for any sign of restored consciousness. He had to focus—to calm his annoyance, for this was his biggest and most important responsibility. To keep the Vex mind that powered the ship in check. One little misstep and—
Goddamn, if he hadn’t wanted to crack Germaine right upside his thick skull! His absolutely insane plan—why did he always have to seek out chaos? Yes indeed, for a man who was so hellbent on survival and the avoidance of conflict, he sure went out of his way to either harness it or cause it. He was such a walking contradiction, and the Ghost had resigned himself to the reality that nothing would ever change.
No...no, that’s not entirely true.
A realization flashing through his mind. A truth that had been born by events unfolding over the past few years, something that had come with the arrival of someone new in their lives. Something shifting and reworking itself—
Something that came when Eris Morn had appeared.
Eris...
His thoughts began to wander, moving to a place far more pleasant. Oh yes, ever since Eris had come into their world, there had been a new feeling—a strong and pleasant one that had fallen upon the ship with every visit. In fact, her weekly visits had become the highlight of Chim-Ung’s life now, and he knew—
He halted, worrying for a moment at a notion that was becoming clearer by the day—an idea most troubling—that Eris Morn had become the highlight of Germaine’s life as well. And though to an outsider looking in, this would seem nothing of consequence, Chim-Ung knew different. For he had seen this before—he had lived through it twice already...and he did not wish to endure a third.
He could see the change in his Chosen—the spring in his step, the gleam in his eye, and the quirk upon his lips as he tried to fight back a smile throughout the day. That wistful look upon his face as he lost focus during his little projects—chin resting upon his palm as he twirled a pencil absentmindedly between his fingers; eyes no longer focused upon the schematics of his latest endeavor of engineering. No. Instead, every day was now filled with moments of light chuckles as Germaine slipped into thoughts so clearly focused upon the mysterious woman. Every meal was now filled with ramblings about what foods his Moondust might like, and how he was going to surprise her with something special.
And that was the part that worried Chim-Ung the most—how everything about her was simply “special” to Germaine, and though the Ghost himself was more than taken with the lovely Miss Morn, he knew how badly Germaine could fall.
And how much he could break.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
A gentle tapping of metal upon metal rose above the hum of the electronics, and Chim-Ung jumped from his musings; spinning about to face the open entrance of the bridge. His gaze moving about the room as the sound abruptly ceased; as though it knew he were looking. Strange. It hadn’t sounded natural at all. Not the same as a glitch within the equipment, or a settling of the ship around them as it adjusted its pressure. No. It had sounded like someone or something had rapped upon the door to draw his attention...but there was nothing there. He focused again, shifting his view to seek out heat signatures, wondering for a moment if Germaine was trying to screw with his head—
It wouldn’t be the first time.
The glowing of the heat put off by the space around him was an anticipated sight...but the little ball of light that was hovering near the ceiling behind a heavy pipe was not.
“I seeee yoooou!”
He froze—recognizing the voice.
Oh no...OH NO!
He hadn’t thought she’d come up here! He had gone to the bridge to run maintenance in order to avoid her!
No...no, no, no!
A flash of gold and blue, and then—
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” A high pitched squeal and Sagira burst forth; rushing straight for him.
A sudden motion that triggered an instinctive response, and Chim-Ung zipped away; unleashing a shriek of his own.
The chase was on.
Around the bridge, weaving under and over the equipment, nearly clipping his shell into the instrument panel. His clanky...heavy...useless shell! He was not as fast as he once was, nor as agile, and Sagira knew it.
Maniacal laughter echoed about—her evil little chitters getting closer and closer as she made to catch his tail.
“CHIM-UNNNNNG!” His name was followed by a shriek; pure elation driving her to pursue him.
Goddammit!
She was closing the gap—and fast.
He zipped about—twisting, turning—making a quick roundabout in the air to back track; an attempt at juking her...which sadly, did not go as planned.
“BWAHA!” She unleashed an uncivil taunt of victory, quickly looping around to block his escape; her eye nearly pressed against his own.
Though his body was quite unwieldy, his reflexes were still keen, and he allowed gravity to do the work; dropping straight down like a rock to zip beneath her. Apparently, she found the move amusing, for she squealed with delight before dropping down to follow, keeping close as
Chim-Ung dove beneath the console—but as he maneuvered about, desperately weaving to keep his pursuer at bay, he made a grave misstep...and zipped right into the clustered mess of poorly hung wires. His bulky shell entangled—the welded corners catching upon the polyethylene, leaving him hanging like a fly caught in a web.
Ah—Shit!
He’d been careless, panicked, and now he was finished.
Impish giggles grew closer—the glow of blue cutting through the shadows.
“I’m gonna getcha!”
A whisper that taunted him—slowly moving in for the kill.
“I’m gonna getcha!”
Oh, if he had a heart, it would be beating right out of his chest. Strange how absolutely terror-stricken she could make him—it made absolutely no sense! Every single freaking time their paths crossed, she would just...just—
“Heeeere it coooomes!
A surge of cold alarm rushed through him, and he began to twist about frantically; pulling at the bindings that held him. This horrible frame he was cursed with—snagging upon everything he flew too close to, and he cursed silently as he realized he was only making it worse. Another chuckle from his tormentor as she slowly floated—no need to rush things now, for he was caught, and hers for the taking! Closer...closer still...until the cyan of her iris filled his entire vision.
Nononononono!
A humming upon her breath, the suspense building—
And then—
The mocking sound of a human’s puckered lips, and Sagira slammed the lens of her shell against his own. Pressing violently as she claimed her prize—a massive and most comically stolen kiss.
NO! DAMMIT!
His vision completely obscured by the burning glow of her eye, and he tried with all his might to pull free from her—but it was all for naught; he had nowhere to go.
She ended her kiss with a massive Smack! and backed up to fix him with a taunting gaze; shimmying about as she laughed. He couldn’t take this—not anymore, and he twisted about; unleashing a cacophony of shrieks and whistles into her face. She paused, her own eye narrowing as she watched him flop about like a fish.
“Huh? I can’t understand you.” She spoke so offhandedly, and if Chim-Ung didn’t know any better, he would have taken her tone as a mocking one.
Her blue eye locking upon his own—a beam of light interlinking them as she scanned him, forming a connection; opening that line of communication that only Ghosts could share. And with a spit of static and a second of garble—
“What is your damn problem?! You freaking lunatic!”
His voice—his silent voice—not spoken aloud, but within her mind’s ear shouted his indignance.
“I swear—” He went on, “—there’s something seriously wrong with you!”
He continued twisting about, even as her eye narrowed upon him and she rushed forward; nearly butting heads.
“Watch it Buster!” Her voice deepened—growling into his face, “That’s no way to speak to a lady!”
Ironically, her voice had taken on a masculine roar. She was making this too easy.
“Well, when I come upon a lady, I’ll be sure to remember that!” Chim-Ung fired back without missing a beat. Several lifetimes living with a snake-oil peddler had benefitted him in some areas.
A long massive gasp answered, Sagira’s eye widening as her shell began to shudder. She was angry—growing more so by the second. But what did he care? None whatsoever, and with a forceful twist and one last pull, he broke free of his web, and quickly turned away from her.
“You—you—” she was seething, calling out as he floated out from beneath the console, “HOW DARE YOU!”
He wouldn’t acknowledge her. Refraining from answering as he drifted upwards and towards the massive window, coming to perch upon the ledge that sealed the panels in place; just the right size for his shell. Outside the black of space was freckled in stars, and he could see the wispy trace of the milky way—silver and purple lined in a burnt orange. The edge of the galaxy seemed so close, but in reality, it was astoundingly far. Too far away. In fact, he began calculating the actual distance—mind finding distraction from the ire that had been consuming him.
Alas—
A massive sigh broke his focus, as Sagira fluttered over, dropping down beside him. Her shell came to lean against his own—resting her head upon his shoulder, and a deep groan rose within him; fighting the urge to buck her off...but what good what that do? It would just provoke her; make her try harder to get under his proverbial skin.
Holy hell, why did she have to be so damn annoying?!
He narrowed his eye upon her reflection, red meeting blue as she sighed once more.
“Remember how we first met?”
There was something so wistful in her tone, and it caused him to bristle. What the hell was she doing?
“In the woods...beneath the full moon...your shell glinting in the firelight of the camp...”
She spoke as though she were taking a stroll through a romantic memory, but oh boy—had the actual event been anything but!
Growling—
Spitting—
The sounds of bone and teeth cracking—
As two feral men punched, bit and clawed at the other; rolling upon the ground with the absolute intent of killing the other.
Their Ghosts hovering above them, shouting desperately for the men to stop—as blood flew in all directions with the furious pounding of fists upon faces.
“GET YOUR GUY OFF OF MY CHOSEN!” She had shrieked into Chim-Ung’s face.
“GET YOURS OFF OF MINE!” He screamed back.
He nearly rolled his eye as Sagira went on—
“My Osiris snapping your Chosen’s arm nearly in half...yours sticking a knee straight into his gut—flipping him over his head and into the firepit...”
Why the hell was she speaking as though it were some fond memory to amuse them both?!
He remembered what she spoke of—
Osiris landed upon his back in the flames, as Germaine scrambled upon all fours—like a furious beast scuttling towards his prey—and he grabbed Osiris by his long ropes of dreaded hair, dragging him backwards.
Sagira had screamed at them to stop, Chim-Ung’s voice joining her, but the men were too far gone—Germaine had been too far gone, and he straddled Osiris as he took the Warlock’s head between his hands; beating the man’s skull repeatedly against the forest floor. Teeth bared, roaring with every single ferocious effort of violence he unleashed—eyes glowing like an animal’s behind a thick curtain of matted hair, and Chim-Ung trembled with fear at the sight of the scrawny man’s strength. Despite his emaciated form, despite his choice not to use the light, he was demonstrating raw power—fueled by the adrenaline of a survivor’s instinct.
The fight had been bloody. Brutal. The clashing of two men who had fallen into madness; desperate and starving.
They had been trying to kill each other—
In order to eat the other.
Chim-Ung withheld a scoff, biting his proverbial tongue as she continued.
“And then you powered up—charging your light until you were able to shock them both with that spectacular burst of static!”
A massive sigh of great fondness, followed by a shifting in her voice; taking on a more seductive tone, “You were so brave...so bold! It was incredible!”
Seductive? Seriously?! He hadn’t a clue what her end game was, and quite frankly, he didn’t like it one bit. He felt her curl against him more tightly, and he fought back the urge to jerk away and send her toppling off the ledge. Hmph! Her image of the incident may be viewed through a rose-tinted lens, but Chim-Ung wasn’t quite so poetic as she.
“The way I remember it,” He growled out, “You got swatted like a fly when you tried to get in between them, and you went flying into a bramble bush where you caught your shell on a thorny vine. Then, Osiris kicked Germaine in the groin and he threw up all over him.”
“Ugh,” She narrowed her eye upon their reflection, “kill the mood why dontcha!”
She shimmied about, frustrated at his refusal to play along with her silliness, but Chim-Ung simply wasn’t in the mood. Honestly, it was hard to be anything but annoyed whenever Sagira was involved. He remained silent, his attention returning to the abyss before them as he tried to shift his thoughts to other things. He didn’t want to remember those days—to return to the Dark Age...
No. Those years were best left where they belonged; in the past. Why remember such pain? Why would someone ever choose to return to such places? It never made sense to him. In fact, long ago...Orin had said something that had always stuck with him—
“Memories are like salt,” She had laughed, “A little can enhance the dish, but too much...ruins the whole damn thing.”
She had always been so wise. So kind and beautiful. Oh, how he missed her so terribly.
A minute of silence. Then two. Then—
“Tell me,” Sagira’s voice broke through. “did it hurt?”
Her question refocused him, bringing his red eye to fix upon her image in the glass.
“What?”
He took notice of her observation of him, the glow of her iris lightly moving about his reflection, and he knew—he knew where this was going.
She better not dare...
The light he still retained inside began to crackle.
“That.” She nudged his side, confirming his suspicion, “When he took you apart and jerry-rigged ya.”
The crackle turned to a burning flame, and he stiffened within his own shell—his wreck of a shell. She dared bring up this subject—again! Seriously, she had bombarded him relentlessly in the past with a round of twenty questions—
“Oh my god! You’re all lopsided! Can you only fly in circles now?!”
“Is that...one of those twisty ties they put on bread bags?!”
“Daaaamn! How many other shells do you have glued to you?!”
He had blown her off every single time, but never before had she asked about his well-being, or how he had handled the situation. It didn’t matter; none of it was any of her business!
He remained silent.
“It looks like it did.” She went on, “Like...taking your insides and putting them on the outside—total ewwwww!”
She needed to stop talking—she better stop talking! She hadn’t a clue what had transpired, and none of it even mattered now!
“You’re all like...a Frankenstein monster now! Which isn’t very cool—because Frankenstein’s monster was kinda lame. If I had to pick a classic monster to—ya’know, be like—it would have to be a mummy! Mummies are way edgier! They’ve got more backstory! Tragic, romantic, waaaay creepier! Osiris says that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, but I said he’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Pffft! He’s a total dick sometimes—well, all of the time.”
Her words had been rapid fire, spoken without pause, and Chim-Ung was fighting the urge to slam her across the room. She could be so insensitive—so unconcerned!
“Oooo!” She jumped, “OR, you could be a zombie!”
She gasped dramatically, nudging him once more as her excitement grew at this new thought.
“Yes! OMG! You’re a total zombie! ZOMBA-GHOST!”
Shut-up...just...SHUT-UP!
His light had become a roaring blaze—consuming him with a rage he tried to fight with every ounce of self-control he possessed. She was making such a mockery of him, playing at his deformity—at the mess he had become.
“Urrrrggghhh!” She shifted about, mimicking the noise she believed an undead creature would unleash, “ZOMBA-GHOOOOOSSSST—”
Chim-Ung was as tough as they came, and that was something he’d always been proud of. Honestly, it made him a perfect matched for the walking debacle that was his Chosen; his ability to roll with the punches and give as good as he got.
But not now—not right now.
Sagira had an incredible ability to push just hard enough...
Her moaning and groaning continued—comical sounds to paint him as some sort of abomination. Teasing him...bullying him.
“MONGO NEED BRAAAIIINSSSS!”
THAT’S IT!
“Sagira!”
He snapped—a deep bark that he knew would rattle her head, and so abrupt was his outburst, it did its duty in startling her silent. Good! She was caught of guard, and he could see her eye adjust upon him; her reflection taking in his own. This was it, the opportunity Chim-Ung needed, and he would not allow her to take it back. She needed a taste of her own medicine.
Ohhhhh Yes!
And he knew exactly which button to push...
“Tell me...” He paused, a commanding air in his tone, “...did it hurt?”
Her own words flung back at her. A prying that was about to shatter everything.
“Huh?” A little trill emphasized her confusion, “What’re you talking about? Did what hurt?”
He considered his words a moment—and then, “When Saint-14 came into your lives.”
Silence. Heavy and thick.
She had frozen. The slight bounce in her little gold shell halted, and she remained suspended in the air with a stillness that was bordering on unnerving. It was a low blow, Chim-Ung knew it—perhaps Germaine’s role as The Drifter was rubbing off on him. Cold moments of disregard, not caring about the feelings of others—it was a terrible thing, but Chim-Ung hadn’t been impervious to the bitterness that came with every tragedy they had faced.
He watched her reflection in the window, blue iris having lost its glow as she stared into the void of space. She was stunned— his question obviously affecting her much deeper than she wished to affirm, for in as simply as the words had been spoken, it was far more complicated than it seemed. For Chim-Ung had just revealed that he knew her secret.
Her terrible, dirty little secret.
Actually, it wasn’t much of a classified matter. Sagira may have thought she had been discreet, but Ghosts liked to talk—a lot. There were things so easily discovered amongst their kind, and when it came to the rumor mill...“Sagira and Osiris” was the most popular topic of conversation.
Oh, how the others all loved to discuss them, to mock her—and spread gossip. Chim-Ung had eavesdropped many a time in the market place and in the City streets—when Germaine had been in a-nice-enough mood to allow him a ride in his pocket. Ghosts congregating in small groups, passing the time with idle chit-chat while their Guardians went about their own errands and recreations. Sagira’s name mentioned at every opportunity; scoffing and laughing. And though much time had passed since her exile beside her Chosen, she was still a hiss and a byword in their eyes.
For Sagira had done the one thing that no Ghost should ever do.
She had broken the most important rule of all—had done something absolutely forbidden—and they had all judged her for it.
It wasn’t fair.
And that was the reality of it. Chim-Ung knew how cruel it was, and though he could never speak the truth of what he felt—he did not condemn her for her choices. For in all fact, if there was anyone in this universe who could understand her, who could sympathize with all sincerity—it was him.
What the two of them felt...
Having spent so long with their Chosen Ones—longer than most of the others with their bright eyed and eager Guardians. So young. So naïve.
They couldn’t possibly understand.
To feel something so deeply...unconditional and absolute.
Even when it hurt so badly sometimes—
“WE’RE NOT FRIENDS!”
“I HATE YOU!”
“I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!
Even when all hope seemed lost—
Terrible sobs that echoed in a darkened room.
Watching a man so lost and confused gaze at his mirror reflection with eyes that glowed green and wept tears of inky black; corrupted by the shadows that now swirled within him.
Naked, afraid, and so terribly lost.
Fingers clawing in desperation at the mark upon his breast—
At the name he had sold his soul to get.
“I want out...I WANT OUT!”
The hysterical wailing of a broken heart, of a contrite spirit.
But there was nothing Chim-Ung could do. He could only watch, and listen—
“Chim-Ung...I just wanna go home!”
--and cry for the one he loved the most.
He knew what it felt like—he remembered, and though he hadn’t done the same as Sagira, he empathized with her completely.
“Hmph!” A scoff from the little lady, and his attention was drawn back to the present.
“I suppose it hurt no more than it did when Orin walked out of your lives.”
Catty. Offense evident in her voice, laced with a petulance that was all Sagira.
Touché
Chim-Ung couldn’t help himself, he chuckled lightly.
“Fair.” He acknowledged.
She unleashed another trill, and he turned slightly to watch her float away, coming to hover before the security monitors in the far corner; regarding them with an attention that lacked any sincerity. There was nothing of interest to see, just the layout of the Derelict’s interior and hangar, and as he looked upon his fellow Ghost, he could clearly see she was trying her best to mask her vexation. She was insulted—hurt.
And he felt the guilt rising in him.
The level of his attack had been unwarranted. Though Sagira loved to play the role of his flirtatious antagonist—and though she could be quite belligerent and insensitive with her comments—there was never any malicious intent in her words or actions. In fact, if anything...Chim-Ung was the one with spite in his heart.
Germaine’s right. I really can be cruel.
“All you ever do is...judge! Why ya gotta criticize everythin’ I do?!”
Words shouted by his Chosen—by Germaine...
“All ya ever do is make me feel like a goddamn disappointment!”
...by Eli.
“Why am I not good enough for you?!”
...by Wu Ming.
“Why don’t ya go find somebody else to make miserable?!”
...by The Drifter.
It had hurt to hear the truth, but Chim-Ung had been trying to do better since those times. Oh yes. He was trying so very hard, and right now...
Watching the new bane of his day float in a quiet most unusual for her nature. To render her speechless—that had been quite a feat, and as the silence dragged on, and he watched her with a look that was descending into concern—Chim-Ung began to realize just how much he hated seeing her this way.
This isn’t her.
No, Sagira was a ball of fire—a little bundle of dynamite. Bold, cunning, brave—and smart. So very smart. Traveler above—Chim-Ung had marveled at how brainy she was in those early days. Ghosts weren’t perfect beings. As much as the general public liked to view them as omnipotent creatures come on the errand of the Traveler to bless them—like angels descended from on high. But the truth was: Ghosts were just as fallible as the people themselves.
Chim-Ung had known Ghosts who were as dumb as a box of rocks, and others who were conniving in their actions. He had known Ghosts to be haughty in their knowledge and capabilities, while others were simply cowards at heart. But Sagira had been different—so very different. She was like no other he had ever known, and he had wondered at it for a very long time. He had wondered about her—about who she had been, and through the years, the longer he had spent in her company, and the more he learned of her nature, the clearer the image began to form in his head. True, he may have lost the vision of himself long ago— but Sagira...oh, how he could so plainly see her in his mind’s eye.
Too bright to look directly at—
Too wild to catch—
And...lovely. So very, very lovely.
A weary sigh escaped him, and he resigned himself. He needed to apologize.
“Do you remember how you slammed me into that tree when I tried to knock Osiris in the head?”
He offered her the chance to take another shot at him. Something that always cheered her up. She snorted, and he knew his strategy had been the right one.
“You looked like a tennis ball,” She spoke, her eye still fixed upon the closed circuit screens, “You even made a Thwack! sound when I sent you flying.”
He chuckled again, one that was wholehearted, “You throw a mean punch, killer.”
“Mmhmmm—” She slowly turned with a dip in her shell; something sassy and challenging, “I’m grand like that.”
There she was. Strong-willed and confident, and despite how badly she could get on his nerves—how rude she had been in the past, and the extent of unwanted attention she would smother him with...
Chim-Ung had to admit—
She’s fun.
A shimmer of gold in a setting sun—
Sitting upon stone beneath a blooming jacaranda tree—they had all watched her blue eye flicker about as she spoke of ridiculous things with such excitement.
She had brightened the mood of them all—Osiris, Germaine...and himself.
And the three of them had sat together, and laughed at her wit.
Losing themselves to the charm of her humor.
Every single time.
A sigh and a trill brought him back, and he watched as she shook herself before spinning around—a graceful twirl in the air that cut through the tension that he had been responsible for building.
She was dancing.
Sagira was always dancing.
Chim-Ung remembered. The image of her twirling and swaying about, while humming little tunes of her own composition. It had been annoying—childish, and yet...he could see how happy it made her. And really, wasn’t that what mattered? For how much suffering they had endured, for how hopeless things had seemed at so many points in their lives—
Didn’t she have the right to dance whenever she pleased?
She looped in the air, the murmur of a tune beginning to rise—
And then—
“HEY DUMBAAAASSSS!”
A man’s rich baritone—Germaine’s discourteous name for him. It echoed down the corridor and through the open door of the bridge, causing an instantaneous shift in his mood. Irritation bristling upon his shell—ugh, if he only had fur, it would be standing upright.
“DUMBASS! GET YO’ SORRY SHELL OUT HERE! NOW!”
He was being summoned; the time had come. He hated this! HATED IT! But what could he do?
The sooner we get it done...
He reasoned with himself—
The sooner I can prepare for Eris’ visit.
Oh yes, that would make it all worthwhile. The thought triggering a feeling of warmth and light; soothing the soreness.
“Ugh!” Sagira hit the brakes, her eye shifting to meet his own, “I am so not going into that freaking hell hole of a place!”
She released another groan, a shiver passing through her little shell, “You go have fun!”
And with a shimmer of light and pixelation, she transmatted away; retreating to Osiris’s side, and leaving Chim-Ung alone once more.
He didn’t blame her refusal. He understood her apprehension to enter that place, and a sinking inside of him began to occur; thinking about everything it could have been—should have been. A place of unlimited potential, gifted by...by...
He didn’t want to think about it—he didn’t want to remember!
Is there truly no end to the sadness?
No! No, no! Now was not the time! He would go to Germaine, he would do his duty, and he wouldn’t think about any of it—about the frozen world and the monsters who walked it, about the Nine and their motives...about Orin...
Why slip into sorrow, when tonight was the most important night of the week? The one night to be in high spirits?
Yes, he had nothing to worry about. It was Thursday. Eris would be here soon.
And that was all that mattered.