Anomaly by Josh Nolan Ugh. Tired. But that bed was so inviting after... well, after the medbay floor. And that excuse for a bunk. 'Just a few mintues, honest'. I'm such a good liar - I can even fool myself. "A soldier must sleep when he can, for the enemy is unpredictable." Shut up, you. You're the one that got me into this mess. If it wasn't for you, Sylvana'd be... or rather, she wouldn't be... I wouldn't have... "Negative. I never pulled out the blades." Maybe not, but Sylvana didn't exactly go beating her own head into that rock. There must have been ways to stop her without breaking her fucking skull. You know there are. "She was a traitor. She seduced you into engaging her in a mock battle, then pulled out real weapons without warning. Were it not for me, you would be dead, killed by your own softness. Death is the only fitting reward for traitors." You've got to be shitting me. A traitor? Working for who? And why the hell would she be after me? You know as well as I do I was there as expendable cannon fodder - there'd be no point in offing me, of all people. Why not Becki? There are an awful lot of other ways she could sabotage stuff, too, without actually taking me on in single combat. Ways that would hurt us without being directly traceable. And they're bringing her here for psych assessment too, so she's just nuts, not a traitor. "You are rationalising after the fact. When the blades came out, there was only one option." Like hell there was! There's always more than one option, but you didn't even consider them, just went and did what you're frigging programmed to do. What I'm programmed to do. That's all you are, just a homicidal algorithm. Why the fuck am I even talking to you? You're not real, you're not me. And when I'm done here, you'll be gone. "I am survival. I am your only hope. When the chips are down, you turn to me because it is the only way you can stay alive. I will drag you through the crisis, kicking and screaming, and in the end, you will thank me. In the end, you will become me." Like fuck I will! I was doing fine before you showed up. My mind was my own, I didn't have to question whether I was going to kill my friends - I could have friends! I could even dream of maybe more than that, but you have to go smash their heads in with a rock! Give me my fucking life back! "Fight me, or surrender to me. It makes no difference. I thrive on conflict, grow strong from pain. I will subsume you, one piece at a time, if you fight, or swallow you whole if you surrender. The choice is yours." So are the options. There's another way. Count on it. "That's the spirit. Now, be wary. Enemies approach." The door to my quarters slid open, and I was moving before I'd opened my eyes. My hand reached under my pillow for the blaster I normally kept there, but closed on nothing but the pillow itself. Still, as I rolled off the bed, I hurled the pillow towards the doorway, the better to foul the intruder's line of fire. It worked. The pillow crackled with blue lightning as it absorbed the incoming shot, and I was right behind it. My forearm up, I slammed the pillow into the intruder's face, bowling him over out into the corridor, wresting his weapon from his grip. Which is when his accomplices shot me. Everything went dark. "Josh. You should be coming out of stun now. Just stay calm. You're safe. Everything's fine." The voice was right. I was coming out of stun - it wasn't like I was unfamiliar with the sensation. I knew the voice, too - it was a new one, but one I should know. I couldn't place a name, though - the stun- fuzz was still pretty strong. I opened my eyes slightly, and saw blurs. One patch of blurs resolved slightly, forming the shape of a blond man dressed in grey. I'd seen him before. Where? In front of some troops... oh. The landing bay. The doctor. Warrant Officer Nax. Randel. That's right. Randel. I opened my eyes fully, still fairly bleary. The bluriness mostly vanished, though my eyes were still not up to focussing properly. "What happened?" I asked. I wondered if I'd remembered events correctly. "We detected a disturbing variance in your readouts," said Randel. He sounded genuinely concerned - maybe even a bit upset. But still, he was matter-of-fact, telling me what happened, not dressing it up or softening things. I was glad of it, and even found I felt sorry for upsetting him. He went on, "You fit the pattern of someone about to violently self-harm, so some orderlies tried to get into your room to make sure you'd be all right." He gave me a lopsided smile. "You've got some pretty good reflexes, there. For most of our patients, the orderly with the riot stunner in the corridor is just a precaution. You've got the honour of being the first patient hit with one in five years." I found myself smiling in an embarrassed fashion in return. Then insight struck. I suddenly realised, even through the fuzz in my brain, that Randel was, in fact, very, very good at his job. Somehow, he was able to pick just the right approach to keep me at ease, letting me know he wanted to help without being cloying, being open and blunt without being tactless. I was coming to realise I'd just assaulted some of the staff that were coming to help me, and yet Randel was letting me know that while this was bad, he didn't respect me any less for doing so. "No-one got hurt, in case you were worried," Randel continued. "Normal procedure for combat veterans like yourself is to ring a doorbell before gaining entry, just to deny those reflexes a target, but occasionally the orderlies forget. You reminded them why procedure isn't always a bad thing." It never is, muttered the stormie darkly. I snarled mentally at him, and asked instead, "But wasn't I asleep? How could I be ready to violently self-harm?" Nax spread his hands. "All I know is that the readings went wacky. The orderlies on watch saw it, jumped to conclusions and barged right in. I'm pretty annoyed myself - they should have checked with me first. That's what I'm here for." He sighed. "If there's one thing I don't like about the setup here, it's that the orderlies don't get rotated through nearly enough. They start getting stir crazy, and that makes them sloppy." He shrugged. "But enough of me griping. Do you want to talk about what was going on when the orderlies came in?" Good question. I didn't know if I wanted to... but I didn't want to keep having episodes like the one that had brought me here, either. And Randel was my psych. He's supposed to be able to help me. So, I drew in a breath. "How much information do you have about the Pullenvale raid?" Randel shrugged. "I know the basic events. You, Ooryl Qrygg, and a contingent of armed Ewoks invaded the base, and in the course of destroying some starfighters you were grievously injured. Captain Qrygg was able to salvage a bacta tank for you from the facility before destroying it with a commandeered starfighter. The tank was fitted with Imperial indoctrination technology, which was only discovered after you'd come out." He smiled ruefully at me. "The reports are in your dossier. Was that what you were getting at, or was there something more?" "No, that's... that's pretty much it. I... I must have been half-asleep, or something." This was turning out to be harder than I thought it would be. "The stormie... he was talking to me. I was getting angry at him, for putting me here. He was trying to accuse Syl... accusing Agent Lorrdain of being a traitor, because she attacked me. I didn't want a bar of it. And then... and then he said I could never fight him off, that I'd become him in the end..." I realised with a start that I was shaking. I looked up, and saw Randel looking back at me. "The stormie. That's the indoctrination, right?" I nodded, and he went on, "I can see how that might provoke the same kind of reaction. I'll stick a notice on your room's monitors - get them to check video before trying to break in on you." He yanked out a datapad and began tapping into it. "I guess it's not healthy that I've stuck a personality on what's essentially a bunch of memories, huh?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer. Randel put away the datapad and shifted in his seat, leaning to bring his face closer to me. "It's a way of coping, Josh. The Imperial psychers imposed a bunch of memories and attitudes onto you. You found yourself acting like you've never acted before after that, am I right?" I barked a laugh. "That's an understatement." "Right. Now, you never learned these attitudes - they were never meshed with your personality. They were just grafted on, wholesale. So you have attitudes and memories in your head that aren't yours - no wonder you treat it as another person. As for healthy, well..." He stood up, and offered his hand to help me up. I waved it away, standing up under my own steam, fighting the wave of dizziness that was left after the stun. "I've seen a bunch of people with your kind of conditioning," he continued. "From what I understand, you put yours in remission for over a year." "Well, yeah, but I just got that one dose..." I began. He cut me off. "I've never seen anyone else do that, Josh. Never." His tone was firm and definite, but I couldn't leave it at that. "Never?" "The Imperial psychers may be hacks, but what they do doesn't take finesse. I've never seen anyone overcome it to the extent you have." He was dead serious. Not a smile or a friendly wink in sight. "I don't believe you." It was almost reflexive, to deny it. What he was saying seemed somehow at odds with the way things were. "In that case - I've got something to show you. Follow me." With that, he turned, opened the door, and walked out. He paused just past the threshold, looking back at me. "Coming?" I looked at him, and he stared back at me, a cool challenge in his eyes. I squared my shoulders. "Why not?"