Tessoul
Yet another order I wasn’t fond of hearing. Still, coming from Jareth, my short little friend who I’d grown quite attached to, it sounded quite comical.
I looked through the various gadgets and buttons hoisted on the metal walls of the science lab and then turned to a frantic Jareth, a Yaclion species, who was talking gibberish into a recording device.
While the Vithohn were towering, broad creatures, the Yaclion barely came up to my thigh. He was a blue being in heavy armor to hide his scrawny figure. Long, wispy arms and thick stubby legs assured the land dwellers moved slowly.
“I’m so glad to see you arrived safely, Tessoul,” Jareth said, waving me over to him.
Jareth inhabited the science wing of our space-station base. He was always coming up with new ideas and weapons for us: ways to cultivate food. Sometimes I thought he was the smartest among us.
In fact, I knew he was.
He was the only one of us who had managed to figure out how to put human technology to good use.
“The wind is so cold out there,” he weaseled, brushing his shoulders with his long, thin arms and bristling his four immense fingers against them. “I hate it.”
“I’m troubled,” I said, dismissing his interest in human weather.
“I sense that,” he said. He had a good knack for that. “Do you want to see what I’m working on? Earth has fascinating resources.”
“Sure, why not,” I laughed, walking up to his table. “Lay it on me.”
A collection of swords and pistols were laid out before me, and I began fingering each weapon, hearing their descriptions with fascination as Jareth spouted off.
He had a narrow, square jaw and round skull with a rock-hard fin set in the middle of his forehead. His eyes protruded from his face, big and red, and his nose consisted of two small slits.
I picked up one of the pistols and felt it in my hand, crisp and rubbery as the grip bumped against my palm. It felt good.
Really good.
Jareth had a massive arsenal he’d accumulated for the Vithohn, yet I still couldn’t shake the need to destroy with my bare hands. To be able to feel what was happening, not just to make it happen.
“You’re in poor spirits, friend,” Jareth said, seeming to remember somewhat late that I’d come to him with a problem. He spoke slowly, with a nasal drawl. He was an eager, scatterbrained genius. But still a genius.
He continued to lay out various gadgets and tech onto the matted table, toddling slowly across the office. “What seems to be troubling you?”
“My commander,” I breathed.
His red eyes went wide, and I could tell he wanted to smile, but he didn’t.
“Best not to say that too loud,” he offered shyly.
“Let him hear!” I yelled: my voice echoing across the lab.
“Temper, temper!” he swatted a tall finger at me. “Now, what’s the problem?”
“The humans,” I said.
He blinked. “Well, is it your commander or the humans?”
I chuckled, taking a seat in the tiny, swirling stool at the counter. “It’s both.”
“Ah. The humans.” Jareth look startled, running his hands along the weapons over and over again like he was nervous about something.
“The humans. The humans,” he hummed. “Hm. I feel like the humans… the humans are doing something.”
“Here I thought there were no humans left,” I muttered. “Yet, poof! They keep appearing like magic and our commander, our Voth, wants nothing more than to…”
I paused and tried to test the word or terminology with my tongue, but nothing would come out.
“Mate with them?” Jareth said, finally taking his eyes off his weapons long enough to look up at me with pursed brows.
He was standing, fully erect on the stool next to me, yet he still seemed so small.
I smiled, flushed, then waved him off.
“Not even them,” I scoffed. “Just her.”
“They make me sick, all of them,” Jareth mumbled in a simple manner, as though I couldn’t be sure whether he was just agreeing to appease me, or if he really had an opinion on the humans.
“I’m absolutely fascinated with them,” he said suddenly in a tone that went up near the end: absent-minded but truthful. “But sick.”
“I feel a rage here, Jareth,” I said carefully. “This foreign soil makes me feel… unnerved.”
Jareth handed me a long, glowing rifle and secured my hands on it. I looked down at its purple hue and then back to him, puzzled. In response, he grabbed the back of my head and forced me to look down the sight of the barrel.
“It’s good,” I affirmed, and he snatched the weapon from my hand, setting it back down on the table and removing several new guns and swords from a thick cloth buried in his armpit.
“I think I know why,” Jareth said, still not looking at me. “Something’s coming.”
“That’s ominous,” I scoffed with a laugh. “More humans?”
Jareth tapped his chin but didn’t seem willing to give me a proper answer.
“I’ll give you a clue, Jareth. They’re already here!” I tilted my head back and felt my limp spire drape against the tiled floor, and I began to sway it from side to side, agitated.
The Yaclion slapped another weapon into my hand, a laser sword, and steadied the grip in my palm before hitting a button on the handle that shot out a laser blade; black heat was radiating at me.
Instinctively, I held the weapon far from my face and extended both my hands forward, feeling like an idiot.
Jareth shook his head, unsure what weapon he should give me that would get a satisfactory reaction.
He scurried to the other side of the room before making a slow return back to our seats. Then, with an outstretched arm, he placed a strange little gun into my palm. Small, hot, and wiry.
“Apparently, pockets of them just keep… cropping up!” I exclaimed.
“I feel something,” he said with suddenly narrowed brown bones; his smooth skin was taking on a rough texture and dotting with black spots. A sign of worry or irritation.
“I feel a headache,” I said, rubbing my temple with my free hand. “So, what does this thing do anyway?”
“It’s a heat projectile,” he said, turning the weapon in my hand and showcasing with his fingers how it might be used. “It bursts forth flames. Good for hunting, heat, h—”
“You know we inhabit their houses, right?” I laughed. “Temperature’s regulated.”
He narrowed his brows, as though he had just remembered he was trying to tell me something. Then he looked at me and announced, “I feel something.”
“So you keep saying,” I said, bored. “About the humans?”
“It’s a deep unnerve,” he explained with some confusion. “Yaclion are more attuned to empath relations. I trust that you will feel it too, eventually.”
“Good to know,” I chuckled. “For the humans? You’ll feel it when they’re near?”
The blue creature smiled widely, all but calling me silly. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Yet you’re smiling?” I nipped. “Well, whatever it is you’re feeling must be shared by the Voth. Anyone who seems to come into contact with those humans loses their will.”
“To what?”
I blanched. “To… what?”
Jareth just stared then; blinked. “Their will for…?”
“Oh,” I blinked and shook my head. “Their will to fight. You should see the look in Araxis’ eyes. It’s like he’s lost his mind. There is no… drive, anymore. One he was willing the death of the human race, and now he’s feeding one. Literally, feeding. With his hands!” I exclaimed, raising my hands to the air.
Any signs Jareth was listening went out the window as his eyes widened and he reached for the heat weapon that I had nearly flung into the sky, scooping it out of my hands and setting it back down on the table with ease.
“It’s despicable,” I continued. “He was the one who used to slaughter them in the first place.”
“I remember,” Jareth finally said. “Perhaps life here has given him a change of heart.”
I rolled my eyes. “Or she has.”
“Tessoul,” he said, seriously now. “Let me know if you feel anything.”
“About the humans?”
“You…” He sighed and set a ginger hand on my arm. “Need to stop talking about the humans for the night. You’re making me feel scattered.”
“Yeah.” I felt resigned. “They seem to have that effect on people.”
I stood from my chair and wiped off the pauldrons of my armor; dusted down my legs and then did a big stretch. Then my eyes shot to Jareth’s.
“Hey, wait… the Voth… they sense heat, Jareth.”
“So? And? Yes?”
I blinked. “So, if this weapon comes into the hands of the humans, can’t they…” I twirled my fingers, searching for the words. “Use it against us?”
“Oh, of course. But what makes you think they’ll get ahold of it?” he said quickly and efficiently. “I can assure you our security if the top of–”
“Alright, alright,” I waved him off with a laugh, giving one last unsure assessment of the heat gun. “Just keep this locked up tight, alright?”