The Empress walked down to the engine room of her battleship to see her Helmsman, a mustard blood who, once upon a time, helped in the rebellion against her. His title was 'The Psiioniic', but since he was given the fate of being the engine for her ship because of his help in the rebellion, he was mostly known as 'The Helmsman'. But his name, his given name, is Mituna Captor, and he was one of the most powerful psionics known in quite a while. She sighed as she opened the door and put on a smirk.
"So, how's my favorite battery doing?" She asked as she approached him. His head lifted and he looked at her, his mix matched eyes behind the goggles he was forced to wear weren't as clear as they used to be, like it was hard to focus on one specific thing.
"Tired… very tired…"He muttered in reply. He hadn't been as talkative lately, like he was struggling to figure out how to say something. Meenah sighed and closed her eyes for a brief moment. He was starting to sound…. Monotone… machinelike. Have I kept him like this for too long? Is it getting to be too much for him? She thought to herself, looking at the Psiioniic's suspended body, his blank eyes and she shook her head. No, I am the Empress! I can hold this Mustard blood as long as I want! She told herself, but deep inside she wasn't so sure.
Meenah has been keeping poor Mituna alive for long after his time, long after he should've been dead. Maybe that's much too long…. She thought again with a sigh. Maybe it's time to release him from this punishment…. Then she left the room and closed the door behind her.
After the Empress left the engine room, the silence left him to his thoughts… well, whatever thoughts drifted through his nearly empty mind. How long has it been since I was first put here? He had lost track of how many sweeps had passed since the rebellion… since his best friend, his moirail's death? Signless…. Dolorosa…. Disciple… how long… how long? His memories, the one's he treasured most seemed to be… fading. He could barely remember his friend's faces, much less their voices.
Mituna shook his head slowly. He could barely even form a sentence now. He's been like this for too long, that's one thing he knew perfectly well. The Helmsman closed his eyes and instantly the cameras all around the ship had become his eyes. He could see every inch of the Battleship except the things The Condesce didn't want him to see. The way he saw through the cameras seemed like a more familiar way to see then seeing out of his own two eyes.
What am I becoming? A machine? Just another piece of this ship? Is that good or bad? What the difference between those words again?
He kept asking himself questions that he didn't know the answers to. Then his mind shut down as he went on autopilot mode, or that's what it felt like a least…
How long is this going to last? Why can't I just die? Be free….?