#bluebeacon

His readjustments bump the mouse to his desktop and the screensaver dies, blasting his poor retinas with light in the pitch black room. The grown man whines and pulls the blankets over his head in an attempt to recover. Several minutes of agonized wiggling later he peeks out of the safety of the blankets to scowl at the monitor. He's not going to be able to get back to sleep now. Damn.

Whines "This is all your fault." at the machine before checking the time. It's after midnight but still much too far away from sunrise. Too long before it warms up again.

He thinks about how good a hot shower would feel and pulls himself out of the chair with a groan. Holds the blankets around him like a cloak before leaving the comfort of his office. Quick steps in an awkward slouch, fingers in his armpits to keep them warm, blankets tucked into his folded arms to try and keep them in place. The facility has heat but it's Helic made, the kind of cheap system they give to bases too close to the Wastes. Less liability if it gets stolen or destroyed and only a weak shield against the sub-zero desert temperatures. His breath still fogs in the hallways while he grumps his way to the showers. He'd just buy his own damn system if that didn't mean more paperwork. The higher-ups trying to squirm their way out of any liability-

A wet, meaty thud far off to his left. He stops, stares down the hallway towards the shooting range. Hyperalert with back straight and eyes wide. Nothing but silence for a few long moments and he almost convinces himself that it was his imagination. Brandon swallows hard. Another noise, familiar and metallic that makes his heart race with fear. Creeps down the hallway while sticking close to the wall. Rationalizes that it's just some of the kids setting up a prank, no reason for the adrenaline rush or the copper taste at the back of his throat. No reason at all, he's acting like a punk kid. There was a shaft of light streaming from the square window. The man has mostly convinced himself by the time he gets close enough to the door to see inside.

It was looking at him.

His breath stops, swears his heart does too. For a moment he's frozen in fear before he notices what the red beast has in it's claws. One of his boys, he can't tell who but one of his, and he drops the blankets, slams the door open. Rushes in headlong. There was no plan other than to somehow force it to let the boy go, all bravado and no brains.

A careless swipe of it's tail sends him crashing into one of the stalls. An instant of nothing before hot pain in his skull, the breath knocked out of him, the taste of blood. But he doesn't black out, so he falls back on his medical training. Is anything broken? No, a concussion maybe, bruised ribs but not broken. He bit his tongue is all. That's where the blood is from. Brandon gathers the courage to open his eyes.

The thing is holding the boy with one silver claw around his throat and the other holding his arm, and now he can tell who the boy is. It's Nicholas Gray, Nicky to his friends, one of the younger boys just in from the colonies. He was alive, if a bit bloody and pale. Frozen in fear and trying to be brave. Trying not to cry. Staring at Brandon like he was the last shred of hope in the goddamn world and he might as well be.

Scans the room while he tries to catch his breath. Thankful that there weren't any bodies of other recruits. Nothing but a few cherry bombs scattered across the floor, and oh gods the boy was just setting up a prank. This can't be happening. That monster can't be here. They have security, they have cameras and sensors and a hangar full of zoids. This can't be happening.

But he remembers this happened last time too, in a much better equipped base than this. He and Rob had been excited to test out the new zoids. There had been no warning, no alarms, no indication at all of what was going to happen until that red monster had knocked him off the platform with that same predatory grin. That had been quick and he hadn't remembered much. His only thought was that it better not fucking hurt his boys, it better fucking not, it better leave them alone.

A thread of amusement winds it's way through the pain in his head that he doesn't understand. "AND JUST WHO IS GOING TO STOP ME. LITTLE ONE?" A voice, a terrible voice resonating deep in his skull, it makes his teeth hurt, like the being inside of a ringing church bell. He couldn't understand. He hadn't heard a thing, but he had understood the meanings of words. What was happening? What the hell was this?  Was he was losing his mind?

Nicholas whimpers and they lock eyes. He had heard,(felt?) it too. He had to get up. He couldn't just sit here. Climbs his way back to his feet, the room spins for a moment but he keeps still the best he can.

The monster had stopped looking at him, attention back on the boy in it's claws it readjusts it's grip here and there, first holding one arm and then the next, Nicholas limp in it's grasp. Brandon notices that the talons were drawing blood but not slicing. The creature looked more like a confused child with a doll than if it was trying to kill him.

A few deep breaths before he asks "Why the hell are you here?" He doesn't even know if this thing will answer, he's not sure if he wants it to. This was nothing like the other one, the blue one, insinuating itself into his head. He wishes he had his sidearm but it was back in his office.

"WE WERE WAITING FOR YOU." It still hurt, but it was less intense this time. More like being next to the bell instead of inside it. "YOU PERFORM HUMAN MEDICINE. YOU WILL KEEP HIM ALIVE."

That didn't make him feel any better. "Let him go. Whatever you want I'll do it, but leave him alone."

"NO."

Nicholas was crying now, silent tears streaming down his face. "Please let me go. Please. I want to go home. Please. Please."

They both felt the flicker of annoyance before the creature lifted him up in it's claws, stared Nicky down with the green eyes of a wild animal.

"STOP THAT. IT IS DISGUSTING."

But that just made him cry harder and start to struggle, and that made that talons tangled in his shirt slice against his skin, the pain just scaring him more. Brandon had to stop this, he knew he had to stop it before the monster killed them both.

He doesn't run this time, walks slowly with his palms up. "Look just put him down. Tell me what you want. I can't help you if you don't explain why you're here." Voice low and calm, more for his recruit than for the monster because if the boy went into hysterics it could trigger the thing to lose it's patience once and for all. If he can just get it's attention, if he can just get it to drop the boy maybe Nicky can get away, pull an alarm, something. He's within a few feet of them now, and then within one foot, and then almost close enough to touch.

Brandon didn't even see the thing move, he had just been walking towards it and then on his back, pain flashing in his head again and a weight on his chest. Hot liquid contrasting against the cold cement floor and he blinks slowly against the light. The weight is the monster's foot on his chest, pinning him down. Nicholas is really in hysterics now, fighting and clawing at it's arms, trying to kick, sobbing. "Please please please." That's all he can make out, just "please please please" over and over again while he slices himself open on those awful claws. The boy's blood is splattering the ground and Brandon's face. The horror of it rises in him so fast fast he can't help but scream.

"Let him go!" The adrenaline and the pain, the helpless rage at himself for not being able to do a goddamn thing. He's shaking and he hates it. "Bastard! You're fucking crazy!"

The thing cocks it's head to look down at him with one glinting green eye. "PERHAPS. THE APOCALYPSE WILL DO THAT."

It was low this time, real low as if vibration could be a whisper, and it was close enough to the blue one that he freezes cold again. What was it talking about? The apocalypse? The one it and it's Zoidian friend had caused?

Nicholas hasn't stopped struggling and that last mental invasion sent him over the edge. "Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" His voice getting higher and louder with every word, sobbing, fighting.

"QUIET."

It's loud, deeper in his skull than before, like screeching metal and a million whistles being blown right next to his head. The world becomes nothing but that word, nothing else exists, the true meaning of quiet, of silence, of stillness. All encompassing oblivion. And then the room is back and it's spinning, his brain spinning in the opposite direction like a tilt-o-whirl, he grasps at the monster's ankle with both hands like a drowning man because somehow it's the only thing that's still. He's going to be sick. The thought causes him to panic, because he's trapped on his back and if he pukes like this he'll asphyxiate, and like hell is he going to die like that in his own base. It brings him back a little.

Nicholas is limp in the beast's grasp, eyes open wide and blood streaming from his nose, his crotch wet with piss. The blood puddle on the floor was large enough now that it was seeping into his hair and his clothes. He knew he had to get Nicholas help now. He'll die if he doesn't, he's losing too much blood too fast, he has fucking to do something.

The demon drops him abruptly, the boy collapsing to the floor and that splatters Brandon with more blood. Nick's eyes were wide and his breath shallow. The captain felt the beast's focus was back on him again, he felt it and he turns to look back up into the predatory grin of the crimson demon. A cold horror takes hold of him, he's paralyzed with it, the feeling of absolute helplessness. The realization that maybe saving isn't in the cards. No saving Nicholas, or any of the recruits. Nothing to save any of them.  Maybe his own survival is the only hope and it was a damn slim one. Looking into those eyes he knew it was the awful truth.

Amusement again. Leaking into his thoughts like warm water. The devil's amusement at his realization, and at his terror.

The pressure on his chest is relieved, the clawed foot removed. His hands had still been grasping at it and he is ashamed. It's terrible grin widens.

Without any further words or it just leaves. Simply stalks out the door, armor clanking as it walks down the hall.

Brandon waits until he can't hear it anymore, until he can't feel it in his head, to get up. Scrambles across the floor on his hands and knees to grab the blankets he had dropped before, tries to use them to staunch the blood flow of Nicks wounds. Wraps the boy up and carries him as fast as he can to the infirmary, pulling every possible alarm on the way.

---

Brandon stayed with Nicholas for the two days it took for help to arrive, treating his wounds the best he could. He ended up needing over 200 stitches and staples for the gouges in his chest. But that wasn't the worst of it, the worst was the damage to the boy's mind. Brandon had served on the front lines, had been held hostage, he knows plenty about post traumatic stress. That wasn't what this was. Nicholas would be there, himself, interaction and then he'd be gone. His eyes would look like they were floating in fishbowls and he wouldn't respond to anything. Sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. He had no memory of that night, or of the crimson organoid, or of anything besides Brandon treating his wounds.

When the Guardian Force arrived they were separated and interrogated, or 'questioned' in their words. Asking them anything and everything about the organoid, about how it got in, how did it catch him by surprise. They didn't say it outright but Brandon knew what they were thinking. How did you let this happen to one of your own? Why didn't you know when the organoid had gotten in? Why didn't you protect your recruit? That's your job isn't it? Why didn't you do anything to prevent this? If it was in your head why couldn't you find out what it wanted?

The worst question of all though is the one he had been asking himself since the encounter. Why did it leave them alive?

He had no answers.

They told him he was lucky, very lucky, that he didn't want to know what that devil usually did to it's victims.

Brandon got away with a mild concussion and bruised ribs. Nicholas was honorably discharged for "...bravely defending his comrades in the face of evil." and sent home. The truth being that his mind was too broken to continue service, that Nicky had long years of physical therapy psychiatric treatment ahead of him. That his life will never be the same, and he'll certainly never fly a zoid again.

His best friends, Rob Herman and Tobias Ford showed up to give him support, to help field the constant pestering of G.F. investigative unit. When the questions were done he split his time between their houses, safe places where he could distract himself. Though was anywhere really safe anymore? He kept in touch with Nicholas' family. Did his best to keep in touch with all of his recruits that had been scattered to different bases across Zi. His emptied for the G.F. to collect evidence. Whether or not anyone would be allowed to return was still unsure.

He doesn't like to sleep, the nightmares of blue from before now combined with nightmares of red. Of claws and helplessness, of Nicholas coming back for him with wide empty eyes and asking him why. Why? Why didn't you protect me Captain?

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OOC: Headcanon time! Humans aren't built for telepathy, they simply don't have the biology to do it safely. They completely lack the necessary part of the brain for it so it takes organoids a bit of effort to speak to them, as opposed to Zoidians with which communication is easy.

Specula is both capable and good at it as telepathy is her specialty. Her presence is like a scalpel, carefully slicing and peeling through the human mind to lay out all their secrets.