03-10-2017, 02:37 AM
Crunch.
It’s awfully dark.
I feel as though I am without something important. In but a moment, as though it had always been that way, I feel as though I am without everything important to me.
Who am I?
...Lights. No, a person. A figure? It’s… too blurry to tell.
A voice… one I feel I should recognize, but I don’t. I’ll be watching… and waiting.
H…
...Homu...ra…?
...
My temples drum uncomfortably against my brain, ordering me to stand. With a gentle exhale through my barely-parted lips, I let my eyes flutter open.
There appears to be nothing above me. The sky is simply white, as though it were a subtle detail somebody had forgotten to fill in and not very nearly a centerpiece of an environment. The ground below me, too, has a nondescript sort of appearance - it has an eclectic sort of texture, I note as I try and get a grip on it. For a moment it feels slimy, then like marble, then almost like paper. My heart skips a beat as I briefly entertain the idea of this surface not bearing my weight much longer.
A new Prime finally arrives.
I raise a brow. Who’s there? A direction seems to call out to me as I hear it - my left, I observe and turn my head. Much unlike the scenery all around otherwise, there appears to be a sort of small clearing in a forest which doesn’t exist. Past a ring of trees, dark, dewy grass looks as though it hasn’t been tread in millennia. Centered in it lies a stone pedestal with a tablet on its front - it’s easily about fifteen feet away, so I can’t seem to read it.
Embedded in the top of the squared-off, light-grayish block of stone is a purple-hilted blade with winglike guards and a gem embedded in its hilt, gleaming like gold.
Search your memories, orders the voice. It… I lack the words to describe it. As I rise, I feel the compulsion to kneel, as though I stand in the presence of a god. Speak your name.
In awe I approach, furrowing my brow a bit as I think. “I…”
The well is dry. No memories come. Those few that do… yes. One seems to fit. A name called out by somebody dear rings in my mind.
“...am Mami. Mami Tomoe.”
You do not bear his name, observes the voice. And yet… you are worthy to wield his blade.
“His blade?” I inquire. I occupy myself still searching my mind for memories. No others come - only faint images and blurry visages. I step at last before the blade in the pedestal, and realize the words on the tablet are completely illegible. It’s like reading a language that isn’t of this world and… something in my mind tells me that really is the case.
The blade of evil’s bane, it answers. You are late to answer your call, Hero. After a moment, the voice adds, step forward. Draw this blade. You will be needed in the dark days to come.
I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I’m taking orders from - only that they seem far beyond me. And yet…
A voice deep with in me says this is right. I step forward and wrap my left hand, then my right around the hilt of the blade. I take in a deep breath and try to gently lift it upwards…
It shifts shockingly quickly, as though I had just unlocked something. A golden beam of light streaks into the air - I yelp, shielding my face with my arm and diving backwards to defend myself. After a few seconds of silence, I let my arm fall to my side. The blade is gone from its pedestal and in my hand. I suppose I forgot to let go of it…
I sharply inhale as something starts to burn a bit on my left hand. I raise it to examine it, only to see… in that same light, a golden triangle forming a larger one with two other, fainter triangles. The bright one glows, forcing my eyes to squint and water, then fades to look almost simply like a tattoo.
The Fountain will soon change… and I must go dormant. Your purpose will become clear, Hero of Justice. Seek the Regal one, and all will become clear.
In a blinding flash, the voice cuts out and fades to silence. What used to be a grove is now… yes, as the voice decreed, a fountain. A beautiful marble one with three women - each holding a rounded gemstone of red, green and blue - spraying water from their mouth and into the basin below.
But… Hero of Justice? Dark days to come? What’s going to happen, I wonder? I eye my newfound weapon for a moment, and… suddenly I feel a strange weight on my back. A scabbard for it hangs from a strap across my torso. I slip the blade away over my left shoulder.
I hear a distant shout and turn my eyes toward it. “Hey! You there, with the sword!” shouts a figure in… what appears to be full plate armor. Plate armor which looks particularly uncomfortable.
Panting heavily, the figure about six feet tall creaks over, slapping his hands on his knees. “Man… noticed something weird happening at the Fountain,” he explains, “and I saw somebody walking over to it. So, uh,” he adds, then looks me up and down. I let my blade hang casually at my side.
“...new Prime?” he asks.
“Prime?... yes, the word rings a bell,” I reply. “Something about… Omni, right?” I suddenly very vividly recall the words in my mind: this is not the world you know.
“That would be the gist of it,” he replies as he stands up straight again. I notice a colossal sword - a claymore, I recall, slung over his shoulder. “You might be a bit disoriented. I’m a knight of Camelot. On post to look out for people like yourself - new around here, looking for answers and explanations, that sort of thing.”
I smile a little and let out a little giggle. “Is it that obvious I’m a tourist?” I get a bit of a chuckle in response.
“Well, one way or another, there’s dangerous stuff out here. Never know when the next Prime without, er… their faculties straight might come about. That, and we’ve caught word of something weird around here…”
“Something… weird?” I repeat, raising a brow.
With a quick, offbeat clang-clang-clang as he does so, he shakes his helmed head back and forth. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to seeing one of them…”
A sickening squelch reaches my ears. The armored figure before me stumbles forward, falling on one knee. As he stumbles over, I can see it on his back - what looks like a purplish arrow sticking out of him. Over his shoulder, I can see distantly a figure with a similar-looking bow in hand, reaching for a quiver at its hip.
My expression, once nothing but shock, twists into one of spiteful judgment as I stare down an odd, mechanical-looking thing drawing back its bowstring for another shot. Over my shoulder, I hear something - a sort of distorted humming noise. “Engaging,” notes a commanding-sounding woman from that same direction. “Get down, Prime!”
Concerned for whose orders I’m following, I instead duck and roll aside. The air behind me screams as a reddish flash of light flies past me, pinging loudly off of the monster ahead. As I land on my feet I grab for my new blade and look to whoever’s just arrived.
Someone much taller than myself in all white armor stands with a heavy-looking black rifle of some sort. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what that is,” I explain, “but I’m destroying it. Surely you won’t object?”
The armored woman nods. “Go ahead. If you need it, I can call in backup.”
I narrow my eyes and smile. Something about this… feels oddly familiar. Fighting with someone on the line, that is. But I have to get this done fast, or he might…
...No. “Excuse me for a moment,” I chime to my plate-adorned acquaintance. Without another word, I dash forward, swerving and just about gliding across the invisible plains below my boots. Brandishing my blade with an odd sort of confidence, I run it along the ground, kicking up sparks and snow-like dust as I close the distance.
Effortlessly I flip and roll past a series of arrow volleys aimed in my direction. I catch the anonymous archer aiming past me - perhaps far enough for me to be unable to interject if I were only as fast as a normal person. That’s quite fortunately not the case. That, and I’d like to see if I can’t do something really cool. I eye the shot as it’s loosed, sidestepping and redirecting my momentum just right to aim for where a line from my current position and the arrow’s trajectory can meet--
On what feels like pure instinct I stand down the arrow and let it split in two along the razor edge of my sword. It splinters satisfyingly into equal halves, flying harmlessly off to either side of me. My heart pounds encouragingly in my chest, as though cheering me on. This is familiar.
I’m just close enough now. I dash forward, finally entering close quarters. I duck under a panicked, half-drawn arrow and reach backwards, rearing my hand for a slap to stun my target. And… instead, I feel something slide from my sleeve, and a weight catch on what feels like some sort of rope. As I pull my arm back, I see something. An arrow. The same arrow I just dodged.
With a confident smirk I pierce my blade into the ground behind me and flip backwards, kicking my unfortunate enemy upside the chin with my heel as I go. Taking advantage of my new opportunity, I swing my arm around, aiming my hand around head level with the creature.
Checkmate. The arrow swings around and passes into its head through one side, then out the other. As the need for the arrow vanishes, the ribbon attached to it snaps at its center. The half still up my sleeve returns to its place.
I turn around and pull my sword from the ground. Finally comfortable with its weight, I twirl it in hand, raising it to my shoulder before stopping it and slipping it into its sheath.
The mask of the armored woman’s armor stares blankly at me. “...Did you see that?” I hear from her after another fuzzy buzz of static. “Primes,” she adds incredulously with a bit of a laugh and a scoff. Seems as though she’s talking to someone.
The man with the claymore seems to have grabbed for a reddish bottle... though his shaky grip makes him drop it, leaving it to shatter on the ground. He curses under his breath, only to cough and hack for a few seconds. He... doesn't look to be in the best of shape.
“Let her choose,” he says, puffing with exhaustion. “Don’t just take her.”
With a gentle cough to clear her throat, the woman removes her helmet. She shakes her head a bit, letting her shoulder-length dark hair free. “I wouldn’t do that,” she replies. “It’s her choice. Besides, don’t you think she just showed she’s not going anywhere she doesn’t want to? Quite the display,” she comments.
“Sergeant Reyers,” she notes. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Mami. Mami Tomoe,” I reply. “And who would you be?” I ask, turning to the fellow swordsman.
“Malcolm,” he replies. “Thanks for the rescue, Miss Tomoe. It means a lot. Could I, er, ask another favour?” he adds, nervously eyeing his wound. It seems he plucked the arrow from it.
“Go ahead. I’m afraid I don’t know much about first aid, but…” I shut my eyes for a moment. “If you’ll humour me for a moment, I have an idea.”
I glide over to the fallen knight and take a knee. Omnilium. With it, anything I desire can be mine… if memory serves. I form a blob of the stuff in my hand. Some kind of healing ointment. I just found what seems to be the sword in the stone - something which seems like that kind of a miracle doesn’t seem too out of reach here.
With my free hand I grip his, feeling the hardened leather on his palm and gripping it. My thumb presses against the steel plating on the back of his hand, and he grips back tightly. “I may need a moment for this,” I note, then force a smile. “Can you smile for me? Hold on, just a little longer.” I get a nervous laugh, and… I feel a presence over my shoulder.
My head turns and my eyes dart to the white-armored woman. “I don’t intend to harm you. In this state, he can’t either, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And if you have something different in mind, yourself…”
She looks to my blade. “Wasn’t planning on dying today, Prime,” she interrupts.
“Do keep an eye out. If anything happens by like that thing again, let me know and I’ll come running,” I add, then turn back to Malcolm. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Care to tell me a bit about yourself?”
Malcolm seems a bit caught off-guard by that. His visor hangs awkwardly between covering his face and hanging above his helm. With his unoccupied hand he tilts it up and scratches a bit at the raven black beard on his face. “Well… I’m a knight of Camelot, as I mentioned. Pretty new to the job, I’m afraid. I come from a little duchy to the west - Hogsmarrow,” he explains a bit hastily. “Beautiful place, but as it goes, nothing’s ever really come of the place. I wanted to change that.”
“Want,” I correct. “Unless you think you already have.” I look to the blob of Omnilium in my hand. It should be what I need soon enough.
“Right,” he agrees hesitantly. “I… joined up not too long ago. Was always pretty strong. Did a lot of heavy lifting back home, managing stock for ol’ Innie at the trader. Got suited up in this, picked up a sword and they said I was a natural.”
He laughs a bit. “Guess that did me a whole lot of good just now, huh?” I join in to comfort him, though I have to admit I’m more concerned than anything. I just… have to distract him. Just a few moments longer.
“So you’re new to all this, like me.” I raise a brow and observe, “then why did you mention the next Prime without their faculties straight, in your own words? Seems like something you lack the experience to know for yourself.”
He looks away like a child that was just caught running off with the cookie jar. “Yeah, about that…” Malcolm begins. “Don’t think I have to play tough around you, since you seem pretty nice. But we’re supposed to act confident. Like we know more than we do, even if we don’t. That sort of thing. More often than not, they put more experienced people on this post, but… from what I heard, the guy that was supposed to run this shift di--”
I feel a sudden weight in my hand once occupied with Omnilium. On my open palm sits a white rectangular box with a red cone on it - in white text on that white cone is MEDI-GEL written in squared-off font. “Hold that thought. I have something for you.”
Letting his hand go, I pop the box open and produce a red, toothpaste-like tube. Silencing himself, Malcolm sits up, then flops over on his stomach. I squirt some of the transparent reddish gel onto the wound, slip my glove off and rub at it for a few seconds. It seems to patch itself up nicely enough. I wash off my hand in the Fountain, then clear my throat.
“That aside… I understand the two of you have interest in taking me somewhere. But I’m afraid I can’t be taken anywhere. I have someone I need to go see.”
The Sergeant raises a brow. “What? If you’re looking for somebody from back home, odds are they’re not here,” she replies.
“Actually… before it turned into that,” I explain, pointing to the Fountain, “there was a voice here. It said something along the lines of… seek the Regal one.”
Silence falls for a moment. “If you mean the Doctor, I think I know who you’re talking about. Put out a request looking for Primes. He’s hoping to deal with things like what you just fought - the Dark, it’s called.”
Dark days to come indeed. “Lead me to him, then. I’m happy to help out.”
The Sergeant points past me. “He takes up residence in Coruscant. He wouldn’t be welcome, as an enemy of the state,” explains Reyers as she points to Malcolm, “but I won’t turn my gun on him as long as he stays away.”
Malcolm frowns. “So you’re heading off, then?”
“It seems that would be the case,” I reply. “When I’ve dealt with all of this, how about I come find you? Does that sound okay?”
He smiles and shrugs. “Not like I’ve got much of anyone else around.”
Reyers gestures in the direction she just pointed with her head, seeming just a bit impatient. “If you’d like me to lead the way, we’ll have to get a move on - and fast. Urgent business,” she adds in justification.
“I’m not sure how... but I’ll find you again,” I finish with a wave to Malcolm. He offers a wave back and turns his back, heading the opposite way. In the meantime, Reyers heads to what appears to be a grayish-black motorcycle floating just barely off the ground. Where it should have wheels it instead has what appears to be little jets firing off light bluish flames.
“Hop on. The ride to Coruscant shouldn’t take too long.” And so I do, settling myself on the long but narrow black bench which acts as the bike’s seat. She does the same, taking up the driver’s place, and in just a moment it bursts to absurdly high speeds.
The whole ride, I can’t help but watch behind me. Nothing really happens on the way - just some small talk here and there, occasional talk of the strange people that we pass… but my attention remains on the Fountain for most of the ride. I barely notice how far away it is as it changes multiple times during the ride…
“...Look alive. We’re passing through.”
I turn around and what has already swallowed half of the bike - a portal of some sort - goes for me and the other half of the bike next.
I feel I have more questions than I’ll ever get answers for… but I think I’m okay with that. I’ll just have to figure things out on the way. And maybe, just maybe, this Doctor Regal has a few answers, too.
It’s awfully dark.
I feel as though I am without something important. In but a moment, as though it had always been that way, I feel as though I am without everything important to me.
Who am I?
...Lights. No, a person. A figure? It’s… too blurry to tell.
A voice… one I feel I should recognize, but I don’t. I’ll be watching… and waiting.
H…
...Homu...ra…?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
...
My temples drum uncomfortably against my brain, ordering me to stand. With a gentle exhale through my barely-parted lips, I let my eyes flutter open.
There appears to be nothing above me. The sky is simply white, as though it were a subtle detail somebody had forgotten to fill in and not very nearly a centerpiece of an environment. The ground below me, too, has a nondescript sort of appearance - it has an eclectic sort of texture, I note as I try and get a grip on it. For a moment it feels slimy, then like marble, then almost like paper. My heart skips a beat as I briefly entertain the idea of this surface not bearing my weight much longer.
A new Prime finally arrives.
I raise a brow. Who’s there? A direction seems to call out to me as I hear it - my left, I observe and turn my head. Much unlike the scenery all around otherwise, there appears to be a sort of small clearing in a forest which doesn’t exist. Past a ring of trees, dark, dewy grass looks as though it hasn’t been tread in millennia. Centered in it lies a stone pedestal with a tablet on its front - it’s easily about fifteen feet away, so I can’t seem to read it.
Embedded in the top of the squared-off, light-grayish block of stone is a purple-hilted blade with winglike guards and a gem embedded in its hilt, gleaming like gold.
Search your memories, orders the voice. It… I lack the words to describe it. As I rise, I feel the compulsion to kneel, as though I stand in the presence of a god. Speak your name.
In awe I approach, furrowing my brow a bit as I think. “I…”
The well is dry. No memories come. Those few that do… yes. One seems to fit. A name called out by somebody dear rings in my mind.
“...am Mami. Mami Tomoe.”
You do not bear his name, observes the voice. And yet… you are worthy to wield his blade.
“His blade?” I inquire. I occupy myself still searching my mind for memories. No others come - only faint images and blurry visages. I step at last before the blade in the pedestal, and realize the words on the tablet are completely illegible. It’s like reading a language that isn’t of this world and… something in my mind tells me that really is the case.
The blade of evil’s bane, it answers. You are late to answer your call, Hero. After a moment, the voice adds, step forward. Draw this blade. You will be needed in the dark days to come.
I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know who I’m taking orders from - only that they seem far beyond me. And yet…
A voice deep with in me says this is right. I step forward and wrap my left hand, then my right around the hilt of the blade. I take in a deep breath and try to gently lift it upwards…
It shifts shockingly quickly, as though I had just unlocked something. A golden beam of light streaks into the air - I yelp, shielding my face with my arm and diving backwards to defend myself. After a few seconds of silence, I let my arm fall to my side. The blade is gone from its pedestal and in my hand. I suppose I forgot to let go of it…
I sharply inhale as something starts to burn a bit on my left hand. I raise it to examine it, only to see… in that same light, a golden triangle forming a larger one with two other, fainter triangles. The bright one glows, forcing my eyes to squint and water, then fades to look almost simply like a tattoo.
The Fountain will soon change… and I must go dormant. Your purpose will become clear, Hero of Justice. Seek the Regal one, and all will become clear.
In a blinding flash, the voice cuts out and fades to silence. What used to be a grove is now… yes, as the voice decreed, a fountain. A beautiful marble one with three women - each holding a rounded gemstone of red, green and blue - spraying water from their mouth and into the basin below.
But… Hero of Justice? Dark days to come? What’s going to happen, I wonder? I eye my newfound weapon for a moment, and… suddenly I feel a strange weight on my back. A scabbard for it hangs from a strap across my torso. I slip the blade away over my left shoulder.
I hear a distant shout and turn my eyes toward it. “Hey! You there, with the sword!” shouts a figure in… what appears to be full plate armor. Plate armor which looks particularly uncomfortable.
Panting heavily, the figure about six feet tall creaks over, slapping his hands on his knees. “Man… noticed something weird happening at the Fountain,” he explains, “and I saw somebody walking over to it. So, uh,” he adds, then looks me up and down. I let my blade hang casually at my side.
“...new Prime?” he asks.
“Prime?... yes, the word rings a bell,” I reply. “Something about… Omni, right?” I suddenly very vividly recall the words in my mind: this is not the world you know.
“That would be the gist of it,” he replies as he stands up straight again. I notice a colossal sword - a claymore, I recall, slung over his shoulder. “You might be a bit disoriented. I’m a knight of Camelot. On post to look out for people like yourself - new around here, looking for answers and explanations, that sort of thing.”
I smile a little and let out a little giggle. “Is it that obvious I’m a tourist?” I get a bit of a chuckle in response.
“Well, one way or another, there’s dangerous stuff out here. Never know when the next Prime without, er… their faculties straight might come about. That, and we’ve caught word of something weird around here…”
“Something… weird?” I repeat, raising a brow.
With a quick, offbeat clang-clang-clang as he does so, he shakes his helmed head back and forth. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to seeing one of them…”
A sickening squelch reaches my ears. The armored figure before me stumbles forward, falling on one knee. As he stumbles over, I can see it on his back - what looks like a purplish arrow sticking out of him. Over his shoulder, I can see distantly a figure with a similar-looking bow in hand, reaching for a quiver at its hip.
My expression, once nothing but shock, twists into one of spiteful judgment as I stare down an odd, mechanical-looking thing drawing back its bowstring for another shot. Over my shoulder, I hear something - a sort of distorted humming noise. “Engaging,” notes a commanding-sounding woman from that same direction. “Get down, Prime!”
Concerned for whose orders I’m following, I instead duck and roll aside. The air behind me screams as a reddish flash of light flies past me, pinging loudly off of the monster ahead. As I land on my feet I grab for my new blade and look to whoever’s just arrived.
Someone much taller than myself in all white armor stands with a heavy-looking black rifle of some sort. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what that is,” I explain, “but I’m destroying it. Surely you won’t object?”
The armored woman nods. “Go ahead. If you need it, I can call in backup.”
I narrow my eyes and smile. Something about this… feels oddly familiar. Fighting with someone on the line, that is. But I have to get this done fast, or he might…
...No. “Excuse me for a moment,” I chime to my plate-adorned acquaintance. Without another word, I dash forward, swerving and just about gliding across the invisible plains below my boots. Brandishing my blade with an odd sort of confidence, I run it along the ground, kicking up sparks and snow-like dust as I close the distance.
Effortlessly I flip and roll past a series of arrow volleys aimed in my direction. I catch the anonymous archer aiming past me - perhaps far enough for me to be unable to interject if I were only as fast as a normal person. That’s quite fortunately not the case. That, and I’d like to see if I can’t do something really cool. I eye the shot as it’s loosed, sidestepping and redirecting my momentum just right to aim for where a line from my current position and the arrow’s trajectory can meet--
On what feels like pure instinct I stand down the arrow and let it split in two along the razor edge of my sword. It splinters satisfyingly into equal halves, flying harmlessly off to either side of me. My heart pounds encouragingly in my chest, as though cheering me on. This is familiar.
I’m just close enough now. I dash forward, finally entering close quarters. I duck under a panicked, half-drawn arrow and reach backwards, rearing my hand for a slap to stun my target. And… instead, I feel something slide from my sleeve, and a weight catch on what feels like some sort of rope. As I pull my arm back, I see something. An arrow. The same arrow I just dodged.
With a confident smirk I pierce my blade into the ground behind me and flip backwards, kicking my unfortunate enemy upside the chin with my heel as I go. Taking advantage of my new opportunity, I swing my arm around, aiming my hand around head level with the creature.
Checkmate. The arrow swings around and passes into its head through one side, then out the other. As the need for the arrow vanishes, the ribbon attached to it snaps at its center. The half still up my sleeve returns to its place.
I turn around and pull my sword from the ground. Finally comfortable with its weight, I twirl it in hand, raising it to my shoulder before stopping it and slipping it into its sheath.
The mask of the armored woman’s armor stares blankly at me. “...Did you see that?” I hear from her after another fuzzy buzz of static. “Primes,” she adds incredulously with a bit of a laugh and a scoff. Seems as though she’s talking to someone.
The man with the claymore seems to have grabbed for a reddish bottle... though his shaky grip makes him drop it, leaving it to shatter on the ground. He curses under his breath, only to cough and hack for a few seconds. He... doesn't look to be in the best of shape.
“Let her choose,” he says, puffing with exhaustion. “Don’t just take her.”
With a gentle cough to clear her throat, the woman removes her helmet. She shakes her head a bit, letting her shoulder-length dark hair free. “I wouldn’t do that,” she replies. “It’s her choice. Besides, don’t you think she just showed she’s not going anywhere she doesn’t want to? Quite the display,” she comments.
“Sergeant Reyers,” she notes. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Mami. Mami Tomoe,” I reply. “And who would you be?” I ask, turning to the fellow swordsman.
“Malcolm,” he replies. “Thanks for the rescue, Miss Tomoe. It means a lot. Could I, er, ask another favour?” he adds, nervously eyeing his wound. It seems he plucked the arrow from it.
“Go ahead. I’m afraid I don’t know much about first aid, but…” I shut my eyes for a moment. “If you’ll humour me for a moment, I have an idea.”
I glide over to the fallen knight and take a knee. Omnilium. With it, anything I desire can be mine… if memory serves. I form a blob of the stuff in my hand. Some kind of healing ointment. I just found what seems to be the sword in the stone - something which seems like that kind of a miracle doesn’t seem too out of reach here.
With my free hand I grip his, feeling the hardened leather on his palm and gripping it. My thumb presses against the steel plating on the back of his hand, and he grips back tightly. “I may need a moment for this,” I note, then force a smile. “Can you smile for me? Hold on, just a little longer.” I get a nervous laugh, and… I feel a presence over my shoulder.
My head turns and my eyes dart to the white-armored woman. “I don’t intend to harm you. In this state, he can’t either, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And if you have something different in mind, yourself…”
She looks to my blade. “Wasn’t planning on dying today, Prime,” she interrupts.
“Do keep an eye out. If anything happens by like that thing again, let me know and I’ll come running,” I add, then turn back to Malcolm. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Care to tell me a bit about yourself?”
Malcolm seems a bit caught off-guard by that. His visor hangs awkwardly between covering his face and hanging above his helm. With his unoccupied hand he tilts it up and scratches a bit at the raven black beard on his face. “Well… I’m a knight of Camelot, as I mentioned. Pretty new to the job, I’m afraid. I come from a little duchy to the west - Hogsmarrow,” he explains a bit hastily. “Beautiful place, but as it goes, nothing’s ever really come of the place. I wanted to change that.”
“Want,” I correct. “Unless you think you already have.” I look to the blob of Omnilium in my hand. It should be what I need soon enough.
“Right,” he agrees hesitantly. “I… joined up not too long ago. Was always pretty strong. Did a lot of heavy lifting back home, managing stock for ol’ Innie at the trader. Got suited up in this, picked up a sword and they said I was a natural.”
He laughs a bit. “Guess that did me a whole lot of good just now, huh?” I join in to comfort him, though I have to admit I’m more concerned than anything. I just… have to distract him. Just a few moments longer.
“So you’re new to all this, like me.” I raise a brow and observe, “then why did you mention the next Prime without their faculties straight, in your own words? Seems like something you lack the experience to know for yourself.”
He looks away like a child that was just caught running off with the cookie jar. “Yeah, about that…” Malcolm begins. “Don’t think I have to play tough around you, since you seem pretty nice. But we’re supposed to act confident. Like we know more than we do, even if we don’t. That sort of thing. More often than not, they put more experienced people on this post, but… from what I heard, the guy that was supposed to run this shift di--”
I feel a sudden weight in my hand once occupied with Omnilium. On my open palm sits a white rectangular box with a red cone on it - in white text on that white cone is MEDI-GEL written in squared-off font. “Hold that thought. I have something for you.”
Letting his hand go, I pop the box open and produce a red, toothpaste-like tube. Silencing himself, Malcolm sits up, then flops over on his stomach. I squirt some of the transparent reddish gel onto the wound, slip my glove off and rub at it for a few seconds. It seems to patch itself up nicely enough. I wash off my hand in the Fountain, then clear my throat.
“That aside… I understand the two of you have interest in taking me somewhere. But I’m afraid I can’t be taken anywhere. I have someone I need to go see.”
The Sergeant raises a brow. “What? If you’re looking for somebody from back home, odds are they’re not here,” she replies.
“Actually… before it turned into that,” I explain, pointing to the Fountain, “there was a voice here. It said something along the lines of… seek the Regal one.”
Silence falls for a moment. “If you mean the Doctor, I think I know who you’re talking about. Put out a request looking for Primes. He’s hoping to deal with things like what you just fought - the Dark, it’s called.”
Dark days to come indeed. “Lead me to him, then. I’m happy to help out.”
The Sergeant points past me. “He takes up residence in Coruscant. He wouldn’t be welcome, as an enemy of the state,” explains Reyers as she points to Malcolm, “but I won’t turn my gun on him as long as he stays away.”
Malcolm frowns. “So you’re heading off, then?”
“It seems that would be the case,” I reply. “When I’ve dealt with all of this, how about I come find you? Does that sound okay?”
He smiles and shrugs. “Not like I’ve got much of anyone else around.”
Reyers gestures in the direction she just pointed with her head, seeming just a bit impatient. “If you’d like me to lead the way, we’ll have to get a move on - and fast. Urgent business,” she adds in justification.
“I’m not sure how... but I’ll find you again,” I finish with a wave to Malcolm. He offers a wave back and turns his back, heading the opposite way. In the meantime, Reyers heads to what appears to be a grayish-black motorcycle floating just barely off the ground. Where it should have wheels it instead has what appears to be little jets firing off light bluish flames.
“Hop on. The ride to Coruscant shouldn’t take too long.” And so I do, settling myself on the long but narrow black bench which acts as the bike’s seat. She does the same, taking up the driver’s place, and in just a moment it bursts to absurdly high speeds.
The whole ride, I can’t help but watch behind me. Nothing really happens on the way - just some small talk here and there, occasional talk of the strange people that we pass… but my attention remains on the Fountain for most of the ride. I barely notice how far away it is as it changes multiple times during the ride…
“...Look alive. We’re passing through.”
I turn around and what has already swallowed half of the bike - a portal of some sort - goes for me and the other half of the bike next.
I feel I have more questions than I’ll ever get answers for… but I think I’m okay with that. I’ll just have to figure things out on the way. And maybe, just maybe, this Doctor Regal has a few answers, too.
![[Image: KBSao70.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/KBSao70.jpg)