Freedom of the Mind
Chapter One-Revelations
By: Dark-Elk
"Targeting confirmed. Missile ETA. . .fifty minutes."
That sterile, monotone voice, vaguely reminiscent of a female voice, was my cue to leave. I thumbed the button near the trigger of my rifle, and watched with satisfaction as the ruby spear of light extinguished itself.
My eyepiece flickered for a moment, trying to interpret data sent from Command. It blanked out, and then beeped once blandly. My blood ran cold; I knew full well what that simple beep meant.
My comm. channel lit up, Command trying to confirm that I had received the data and the warning.
"I heard. Feed me the best numbers we have and the ETA."
I could hear the comm. officer rapidly pounding her keyboard in the background as she called up the requested information, the sound only slightly muted by the sounds of chaos that now filled Command.
"It's not good sir. Before we lost the CAP of Wraiths patrolling their perimeters they registered troop movements numbering in the thousands. The commander says that this assault is the one they've been preparing for. The attack force ETA is eighteen minutes, forty-eight for the missile."
Mentally cursing Command's decision to fire the missile barely too early, I restrained myself. A verbal outburst anything along the lines of the one slamming through my mind could prove disastrous. Instead I gritted my teeth, and asked the only appropriate question under the circumstances.
"Orders?"
"The commander says that you're too valuable to lose. He wants you to hightail it back here and catch the first available Dropship. Our defensive perimeter is bracing for the onslaught."
"You said thousands. Even I know that our perimeter isn't prepared enough to hold off those kind of numbers, even if by some miracle you get air support. I'm sure I can do something to stall them a bit."
"The commander says his orders stand. Disobeying his orders will constitute in a court martial with the charge of treason, and in wartime treason charges often end with a summary execution."
"This is bullshit. Complete and total bullshit. You colonials don't have a prayer of stopping this force, and some hick commander won't take whatever help I can offer?"
"Sir, this conversation is over. The commander expects you shortly", said the officer briskly before terminating the connection.
I slammed my fist into the Bunker's wall hard, trying to drown my anger out in pain. My head cleared, and the clarity gave me just enough time to assess my current situation.
One fully trained Ghost, product of Dominion training. One C-10 Canister Rifle with maybe three hundred rounds if I was lucky, but most likely less than that. One poorly constructed Bunker, slapped together to give me the bare minimum of cover. One speed-enhanced Vulture I was supposed to be retreating on now. I searched my pockets, looking for any miscellaneous junk in my pockets that could prove useful, but found nothing more than some used food wrappers and a few light rations.
Sighing heavily, I tried to calm myself. I quickly entered a meditative trance that had proved effective for heightening my psionic abilities, and now was no different. I slowly pushed back my sphere of awareness out to encompass the surging Zerg swarm rampaging across the flat prairie between their base and the Terran encampment at Zulu Nine, their only goal being the decimation of the Terran base. I could sense the Terran encampment itself; it was like a beacon of anxiety. Marines spilled into perimeter Bunkers, filling and overfilling the structures. Siege Tank crews frantically ran their vehicles through a warm up and began loading the ammunition wells. Medics prepared triage stations scattered nearly equidistant throughout the base, keeping transport time of wounded down to the smallest length possible. My psionic presence brushed into that of my wife, her psionic powers standing like a pillar of light amidst the darkness that was the minds of so-called "normal" Terrans.
She wasn't a Ghost. She very well could have been, and I had often wondered why the Dominion hadn't accepted her for training. Screening tests were strenuous, as I could well attest. Nevertheless, she ended up in the Dominion psyche program, working with Ghosts who experience mental problems from missions they had been forced to undertake. A psychiatrist of sorts, but with a very unique clientele.
We had met after I undertook a particularly vicious assignment on the ice world of Jaglan. I had been forced to assassinate the leader there for his involvement with certain rebel factions that the Dominion considered threats. He had been a family man; he had two daughters and a lovely wife at the time, and it devastated me knowing I was taking away their father and husband. I had been depressed for months after that, and finally the Dominion had taken me off of active service and placed me on the "disabled" list. I was ordered to undergo therapy, and that was how I meet her for the first time. Her psionic talent was very useful in her line of work; the minds of Ghosts are littered with pitfalls and mental blocks placed by the Dominion during training. Her talents allowed her to help Ghosts sort out their minds enough where they could again bear what they were forced to do.
I could feel her presence, but it was different than usual. It was alight with frantic energy, similar to the minds around her. Tapping the side of my visor, I opened up a comm. channel to her.
"Hey Nora, how are you doing over there? I can feel you're upset" I said casually.
"These Dominion bastards are ordering the evacuation! They're leaving these colonials to fend for themselves, after they were the ones who intensified this conflict! It's not right!" said Nora, frustration penetrating her voice.
"I know, I heard. They're ordering me back right away. I think I could find some way to slow the Zerg down, but they won't even let me try."
She laughed. "And you're going to listen?"
I smiled. My wife's rebellious tendencies were another part of what had drawn me to her. "I think I can slow them down, I said, but I'm kind of low on resources. Despite what the common man thinks, you and I both know that Ghosts are just souped-up Marines with fancy armor and some mind powers."
Nora sighed. "It's not true."
"Huh?" I said, not understanding. I was scanning the horizon worriedly as I deftly mounted my Vulture. There wasn't any movement near the Hive cluster that had been targeted yet, but within moments I knew a wall of Zerg would be flooding towards the base, intent upon flowing unceasingly over the perimeter like waves breaking on a seawall.
"Ghosts are more than you know. You honestly believe that you're just like those apes?"
I nodded to myself, but said to her "Sort of. I mean, we're no different really than the average Marine, except I have more difficult missions. And my higher rank lets me order those stupid grunts around."
"Ghosts have the strongest mental powers known to mankind; that's one reason the Zerg are out to infest us. Even the Protoss know that we're capable of great feats of psionic strength. That's why the Dominion chose you. The bastards are afraid of you and what you could do. They draft you into this program and put shackles on your true power. Me telling you this counts as high treason, but we both know Ghosts are allotted secure lines."
My mind reeled for a few moments, and then I spoke slowly. "What sort of shackles are we talking about here, Nora? I mean, what am I capable of?"
"You've been in battle with Protoss before, right? Have you ever seen a High Templar?"
"Yeah, once or twice. Are you saying that Ghosts are as strong as them?"
"Stronger. It's because their entire race is gifted with some extent of psionic control. . .none of them are ever truly as gifted as a Ghost. The Protoss that is as strong as a fully trained and free Ghost is rare."
"Can I remove these shackles?"
An alarm sounded in the background, and I could hear her yelling to someone behind her. She came back quickly. "Sorry about that, the apes just showed up to help me evac. Yes, you can remove it. . .but you'll never be the same. You haven't been fully trained to deal with the power you would be able to control. But were you to do so. . .it could conceivably slow the Zerg down."
I swallowed hard, and asked "How?"
"Behind your left ear, there's a small nub of hard flesh. Underneath of it is a small chip that has wires that link to various sections of your brain hemispheres, locking off areas that deal with true psionic power. If you cut out the chip and disconnect the wires from it, you will be able to free yourself."
"Alright. I'll do that. I love you, Nora."
"I don't think we'll see each other again now, but I want you to know that I think what you're doing is extraordinarily brave. I love you more than you will ever know, and I wish you luck." With that, she closed down the comm. channel, leaving me alone again in the middle of nowhere.
Reaching down to the belt on my side, I pulled out my combat knife. Every Ghost is trained in knife fighting skills from the beginning of their training, and I have always been fairly skilled at it. The smooth blade of the knife would part my flesh easily under my control. I got off the Vulture and sat on the ground, placing water and bandages close at hand. I felt around behind my left ear until I brushed against what Nora had described: a small, hard lump of skin. Bracing myself, I raised the knife and sliced it off in one quick slash. The pain exploded through my mind, but my training had prepared me for worse. I flicked the lump of flesh off of my knife onto a bandage, and splashed some of my water on my ragged incision. The blood was flowing freely down my cheek, and I quickly began taping some bandages over the cut. I wiped off the blood on my cheek, pausing for a few moments to look at the flesh I had excised from my body. I could see the small chip nestled inside it like a tumor, glinting dully in the sunlight. I reached over and dug it out, raising it before my eyes. Such a small chip. . .but it had kept me chained to the Dominion for so many years. My heart swelled with hatred for the Dominion bastards who had implanted the chip in me, keeping me from my full potential.
I could feel my freed potential coursing through my body, pounding my brain. Images flashed through my mind, images of things I knew I was able to do now, of the Zerg beginning their stampede towards me, of the colonists frantically trying to prepare themselves for the coming abattoir. I reached out again towards Nora, brushing her presence with mine. Her heart soared with happiness, and I couldn't help but grin broadly.
I lightly tossed the chip into the air and watched with fascination as it slowly dissolved into a powder too fine to see. I released them from my mental grip and laughed as a gust of wind caught the remains of my prison, scattering it across the plain before me.
"I'm free."
Chapter One-Revelations
By: Dark-Elk
"Targeting confirmed. Missile ETA. . .fifty minutes."
That sterile, monotone voice, vaguely reminiscent of a female voice, was my cue to leave. I thumbed the button near the trigger of my rifle, and watched with satisfaction as the ruby spear of light extinguished itself.
My eyepiece flickered for a moment, trying to interpret data sent from Command. It blanked out, and then beeped once blandly. My blood ran cold; I knew full well what that simple beep meant.
My comm. channel lit up, Command trying to confirm that I had received the data and the warning.
"I heard. Feed me the best numbers we have and the ETA."
I could hear the comm. officer rapidly pounding her keyboard in the background as she called up the requested information, the sound only slightly muted by the sounds of chaos that now filled Command.
"It's not good sir. Before we lost the CAP of Wraiths patrolling their perimeters they registered troop movements numbering in the thousands. The commander says that this assault is the one they've been preparing for. The attack force ETA is eighteen minutes, forty-eight for the missile."
Mentally cursing Command's decision to fire the missile barely too early, I restrained myself. A verbal outburst anything along the lines of the one slamming through my mind could prove disastrous. Instead I gritted my teeth, and asked the only appropriate question under the circumstances.
"Orders?"
"The commander says that you're too valuable to lose. He wants you to hightail it back here and catch the first available Dropship. Our defensive perimeter is bracing for the onslaught."
"You said thousands. Even I know that our perimeter isn't prepared enough to hold off those kind of numbers, even if by some miracle you get air support. I'm sure I can do something to stall them a bit."
"The commander says his orders stand. Disobeying his orders will constitute in a court martial with the charge of treason, and in wartime treason charges often end with a summary execution."
"This is bullshit. Complete and total bullshit. You colonials don't have a prayer of stopping this force, and some hick commander won't take whatever help I can offer?"
"Sir, this conversation is over. The commander expects you shortly", said the officer briskly before terminating the connection.
I slammed my fist into the Bunker's wall hard, trying to drown my anger out in pain. My head cleared, and the clarity gave me just enough time to assess my current situation.
One fully trained Ghost, product of Dominion training. One C-10 Canister Rifle with maybe three hundred rounds if I was lucky, but most likely less than that. One poorly constructed Bunker, slapped together to give me the bare minimum of cover. One speed-enhanced Vulture I was supposed to be retreating on now. I searched my pockets, looking for any miscellaneous junk in my pockets that could prove useful, but found nothing more than some used food wrappers and a few light rations.
Sighing heavily, I tried to calm myself. I quickly entered a meditative trance that had proved effective for heightening my psionic abilities, and now was no different. I slowly pushed back my sphere of awareness out to encompass the surging Zerg swarm rampaging across the flat prairie between their base and the Terran encampment at Zulu Nine, their only goal being the decimation of the Terran base. I could sense the Terran encampment itself; it was like a beacon of anxiety. Marines spilled into perimeter Bunkers, filling and overfilling the structures. Siege Tank crews frantically ran their vehicles through a warm up and began loading the ammunition wells. Medics prepared triage stations scattered nearly equidistant throughout the base, keeping transport time of wounded down to the smallest length possible. My psionic presence brushed into that of my wife, her psionic powers standing like a pillar of light amidst the darkness that was the minds of so-called "normal" Terrans.
She wasn't a Ghost. She very well could have been, and I had often wondered why the Dominion hadn't accepted her for training. Screening tests were strenuous, as I could well attest. Nevertheless, she ended up in the Dominion psyche program, working with Ghosts who experience mental problems from missions they had been forced to undertake. A psychiatrist of sorts, but with a very unique clientele.
We had met after I undertook a particularly vicious assignment on the ice world of Jaglan. I had been forced to assassinate the leader there for his involvement with certain rebel factions that the Dominion considered threats. He had been a family man; he had two daughters and a lovely wife at the time, and it devastated me knowing I was taking away their father and husband. I had been depressed for months after that, and finally the Dominion had taken me off of active service and placed me on the "disabled" list. I was ordered to undergo therapy, and that was how I meet her for the first time. Her psionic talent was very useful in her line of work; the minds of Ghosts are littered with pitfalls and mental blocks placed by the Dominion during training. Her talents allowed her to help Ghosts sort out their minds enough where they could again bear what they were forced to do.
I could feel her presence, but it was different than usual. It was alight with frantic energy, similar to the minds around her. Tapping the side of my visor, I opened up a comm. channel to her.
"Hey Nora, how are you doing over there? I can feel you're upset" I said casually.
"These Dominion bastards are ordering the evacuation! They're leaving these colonials to fend for themselves, after they were the ones who intensified this conflict! It's not right!" said Nora, frustration penetrating her voice.
"I know, I heard. They're ordering me back right away. I think I could find some way to slow the Zerg down, but they won't even let me try."
She laughed. "And you're going to listen?"
I smiled. My wife's rebellious tendencies were another part of what had drawn me to her. "I think I can slow them down, I said, but I'm kind of low on resources. Despite what the common man thinks, you and I both know that Ghosts are just souped-up Marines with fancy armor and some mind powers."
Nora sighed. "It's not true."
"Huh?" I said, not understanding. I was scanning the horizon worriedly as I deftly mounted my Vulture. There wasn't any movement near the Hive cluster that had been targeted yet, but within moments I knew a wall of Zerg would be flooding towards the base, intent upon flowing unceasingly over the perimeter like waves breaking on a seawall.
"Ghosts are more than you know. You honestly believe that you're just like those apes?"
I nodded to myself, but said to her "Sort of. I mean, we're no different really than the average Marine, except I have more difficult missions. And my higher rank lets me order those stupid grunts around."
"Ghosts have the strongest mental powers known to mankind; that's one reason the Zerg are out to infest us. Even the Protoss know that we're capable of great feats of psionic strength. That's why the Dominion chose you. The bastards are afraid of you and what you could do. They draft you into this program and put shackles on your true power. Me telling you this counts as high treason, but we both know Ghosts are allotted secure lines."
My mind reeled for a few moments, and then I spoke slowly. "What sort of shackles are we talking about here, Nora? I mean, what am I capable of?"
"You've been in battle with Protoss before, right? Have you ever seen a High Templar?"
"Yeah, once or twice. Are you saying that Ghosts are as strong as them?"
"Stronger. It's because their entire race is gifted with some extent of psionic control. . .none of them are ever truly as gifted as a Ghost. The Protoss that is as strong as a fully trained and free Ghost is rare."
"Can I remove these shackles?"
An alarm sounded in the background, and I could hear her yelling to someone behind her. She came back quickly. "Sorry about that, the apes just showed up to help me evac. Yes, you can remove it. . .but you'll never be the same. You haven't been fully trained to deal with the power you would be able to control. But were you to do so. . .it could conceivably slow the Zerg down."
I swallowed hard, and asked "How?"
"Behind your left ear, there's a small nub of hard flesh. Underneath of it is a small chip that has wires that link to various sections of your brain hemispheres, locking off areas that deal with true psionic power. If you cut out the chip and disconnect the wires from it, you will be able to free yourself."
"Alright. I'll do that. I love you, Nora."
"I don't think we'll see each other again now, but I want you to know that I think what you're doing is extraordinarily brave. I love you more than you will ever know, and I wish you luck." With that, she closed down the comm. channel, leaving me alone again in the middle of nowhere.
Reaching down to the belt on my side, I pulled out my combat knife. Every Ghost is trained in knife fighting skills from the beginning of their training, and I have always been fairly skilled at it. The smooth blade of the knife would part my flesh easily under my control. I got off the Vulture and sat on the ground, placing water and bandages close at hand. I felt around behind my left ear until I brushed against what Nora had described: a small, hard lump of skin. Bracing myself, I raised the knife and sliced it off in one quick slash. The pain exploded through my mind, but my training had prepared me for worse. I flicked the lump of flesh off of my knife onto a bandage, and splashed some of my water on my ragged incision. The blood was flowing freely down my cheek, and I quickly began taping some bandages over the cut. I wiped off the blood on my cheek, pausing for a few moments to look at the flesh I had excised from my body. I could see the small chip nestled inside it like a tumor, glinting dully in the sunlight. I reached over and dug it out, raising it before my eyes. Such a small chip. . .but it had kept me chained to the Dominion for so many years. My heart swelled with hatred for the Dominion bastards who had implanted the chip in me, keeping me from my full potential.
I could feel my freed potential coursing through my body, pounding my brain. Images flashed through my mind, images of things I knew I was able to do now, of the Zerg beginning their stampede towards me, of the colonists frantically trying to prepare themselves for the coming abattoir. I reached out again towards Nora, brushing her presence with mine. Her heart soared with happiness, and I couldn't help but grin broadly.
I lightly tossed the chip into the air and watched with fascination as it slowly dissolved into a powder too fine to see. I released them from my mental grip and laughed as a gust of wind caught the remains of my prison, scattering it across the plain before me.
"I'm free."
