B I L E
He lurched to the sink and vomited. It all came up, liquid pain bursting from his stomach. He looked in the mirror. Some mucus had sprayed even there. Some was flecked red. The image swam and shifted. The shadows were there again, coiling around his head like wraiths. Purple or green, turquoise, sometimes golden. Do something, said his soul. Do what? He replied. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Do something. Something.
The gantry was nearly empty, one guard. What's up, a revision? Nope, I need something, personal, like. What. A statement, wary, not a question. To go back. You've just been logged and flagged pretty much thirty times, Sarcen. You know I can't send you again, You, me both dishonourably discharged if that happens. I have authorisation. He pinged the data stream through his helmet to the console, the guard read it. This is old, maybe two months. Technicality. Punch it.
I won't be discharged, but you will. Fucking do it. What the hell thought the guard. These guys were special watch, more than half crazy. He wouldn't get in trouble. The portal formed. Sarcen stepped through.
Gentlemen, if you will excuse the lack of formality. The general waited until the others nodded, they knew the history between the soldier sat before them and the general chairing the behavioral revision.
You think I'm some kind of jackass? Sir, . . Shut the fuck up. You were not given permission to speak soldier. As far as you are concerned your commander in chief is sat right here in front of you, deal. He paused, watching the figure in front. He liked tired, careworn. But the medical check had shown various free radicals and unknowns floating in his system. There was nothing invasive or contagious, but the tests showed that something bad had happened on the other side. I don't want to break you. If I did you'd be broken already. Why did you go back. Insomnia? Sir, I was doing my job. No chance. I'm not one of these desktop pansies - he gestured at the other generals. Some coloured in either rage or embarrassment, but none spoke. The two ignored them. I, don't know. I went back because I had something to do. I needed to live. He looked up from his monologue. Like a child. The general smiled, despite himself. But with an old man's years, he murmured. So what, he said more strongly, no court marshal, free as you please, come ago go, skipping across the galaxy? No sir, by orders. The job there wasn't finished. Not to my satisfaction. Very well.
The special dispensation meant he could continue, traveling solo, indulging in his blood frenzy. The only backpedal was that he was now in the Archon Lodge program. He didn't mind, the drugs they gave kept him on edge and he had trouble sleeping, but he was sharper and faster, could feel it.