Drifter

Gami walked over to Shikakuu, and his host, Babur. He picked up one of the pistols but didn’t point it at her. Eli stayed at a respectful distance while she asked if she could go to her room to take some medication.

“Of course you can, but remember,” he pointed to the screen that displayed the feed from the security cameras, “We are watching.”

She nodded, thanked him, and left. Eli approached, made sure to not get close enough to spook him.

“And how can I help you?” Babur asked.

“I was thinking about your offer.”

“I’m afraid that it is too late for that, captain. Take heart, your ship will be used for a good cause.”

On the monitor, Gami hurried into her room, setting the door so that it stayed in the open position. From the camera’s vantage point, they couldn’t see into her room.

Eli was able to tell when Shikakuu took over. He started fiddling with the security feed, switching between the available cameras. He was unable to find one that could see into her room.

“Don’t you have a camera in that room?” the hive mind asked Eli.

“No. I respect the privacy of my crew and my guests.”

“Respectable but foolish.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re too paranoid.”

“Surviving the things that we’ve been through does that.”

“I’d like to hear about it. I’ve been through a few things myself.”

“Not like us,” Shikakuu sneered.

If the hive mind or its host noticed the distortion of light on the monitor, they didn’t give off any tells that Eli could pick up on. Now she had to make her way to the workshop, balancing speed against the risk of being spotted. But she had Eli to help distract him.

“Try me,” Eli said, hoping that he didn’t tip him off by sounding too much like he was trying to provoke the entity.

“Ka’darka wasn’t our first kill. He won’t be the last. We’ve had to kill many times before. Sometimes, it’s what must be done.”

Sudden inspiration. The original plan had been to get him to engage in an ideological discussion, maybe convince him that Eli could be converted. But this was much better. Shikakuu had convinced itself that it was not only capable but obligated to do anything that it deemed to be necessary. This naturally defaulted to the mentality that extreme measures and mercilessness was always required.

“I can admire someone that has that kind of will,” Eli said, “On my home world, such things were done many times throughout history. Populations were starved, cities carpet bombed, massive prisons established, all for a good cause.”

“True. Very true. Those civilizations carry our spirit with them. We’ve done terrible things, we’ll admit that. But we never let the horror of it cause us to waver.”

“Tell me,” Eli said, trying his best to sound like a student that wants a wise teacher to reveal some harsh, but necessary truth.

“We were being hunted. Our host was unwilling, but we had run out of options. He was a crewmember aboard a passenger ship. The kill team tracked us to the vessel. They didn’t tell the crew why they were there, didn’t want to spook them. This was a wise move, we subverted it.”

“Wait, you let the crew know that you were aboard?”

A little frustration in its voice, “She’s taking too long,” it keyed the intercom mic, “You’ve got five minutes to make it back, or we kill your friend.”

“You let the crew know about you?” Eli pressed.

“Yes. Of course. We knew that their paranoia would get the best of them. The hunters thought that one of them had said the wrong thing and raised their suspicions. From there, we killed various members of the crew, leaving behind false clues. At one point, we had them thinking that we had taken control of one of the hunters.”

“How far did it go?”

“Till our host was the only one left. Our host was a young and beautiful woman. We were all tears and horror stories when the ship was found. They took us in without question.”

It was suddenly the monk again, the arrogance instantly wiped away, “You kept that from me. What else have you hidden?”

The hive again, “Stay out of there! You can’t handle that! We had to! We had to!”

The monk spoke with dignified defiance, “You keep saying that. You keep telling yourself that. It isn’t true. It is a cover for cruelty. I can see that now. I can see every one of your sins.”

“I’m losing control!” Shikakuu growled. He pressed the call button on his communicator. Nothing happened. He pushed it again, nothing.

The hive mind was incensed, “We should have killed you earlier. We were too merciful. We won’t make that mistake again.”

Shikakuu pointed the gun at Eli. A little hint of the monk as he removed his finger from the trigger. Shikakuu fought back, sticking the finger back in the trigger well.

Eli looked into the being’s eyes, “Babur, you can do it. Don’t let that monster win.”

One last effort. The gun fell out of the monk’s hand. Eli snatched it out of the air. Sateen darted across the room and swept her arm across the consol, knocking the other handguns to the floor. Skant and Thracia scooped up the weapons as they clattered around.

Babur fell out of the chair. Eli got down next to him. Lukas ripped a medkit off of the wall and tossed it to the human.

The monk spoke in a low, weak voice, “Shikakuu forgot, I have spent countless hours meditating. I have mastered my mind. Thank you, captain. I will repent for my mistake,” with that, he passed out cold.

The door to the bridge opened, Gami entered, the jammer in her hand, “I see that you took care of him.”

“Not me. The host ended up rejecting the hive. We need to get him to a medical team so that they can get that thing out of his head.”

“We’re almost at the spot where he planned to drop us off at. They can take care of him there. I have to say, this trip wasn’t anywhere near as boring as I was worried it would be.”