In his many tours of duty in several of the more recent wars against the The Morphoids, a rather persistent interstellar plague, Blueneck also learned the many ways necessary of how to kill all sorts of creatures of different shapes and biologies. As you probably know, an adult stage Morphoid can take any physical form that matches its mass. This distinguished them from Because’s species, who’s psychic appearance of transformation was merely limited to what the observer’s mind can come up with – luckily Gnarloshifters are generally not nearly so dangerous – unlike Morphoids – those were a real threat, swarming whole worlds when they built up a critical population. A Gnarloshifter was more of a one enemy at a time type.
Yes, the topic of killing too was a favorite topic of Blueneck. This was also something Because would get into when he was there to run the purifying systems and shields which maintained our protection from the various excretions the Siliconoids were wont to produce.
Because’s experiences were different, as he had spent much time incarcerated on numerous prison planets in the Black Space Imperium when he hadn’t been a interspecies trade consultant or an occasional bounty hunter. The Gnarloshifter seemed to have as many vocations as shaped I was forced to reevaluate my impression of the consentient as often as he changed his perceptual form. Both he and blue neck were not adverse against transmitting images of various different killing techniques they had exercised amongst the various different species they had encountered. And their supply seemed to be endless.
Again this sort of thing filtered through my receivers and there were moments of violent exultation when I experienced totally alien to my person and species experiences. Some times I couldn’t even do my job, I’m sad to say. They were certainly an enthusiastic pair, if nothing else.
It was such a rush at times which, after I was psychologically compelled to refocus on my personal bodily existence, that my mind dropped into a set of alien imagery where I couldn’t tell exactly what information the two were exchanging. What can I say, I couldn’t resist forever. I’m sure any consentient would have eventually let its psychological walls down for a moment, just to see what the two of them were so enthusiastically excited about.
I was experiencing the approach towards a medium sized alien, somewhat humanoid, somewhat tentacular. I was tense and excited and quickly reached out with a set of my own tentaculared limbs. They were blue colored, and I realized what I was involved in, but was unable to shake myself out of it.
I was thinking to my self, you have to get your extenders around it breathing columns and grip hard. Once you’ve got that kind of grip, you’ve got it right where you want it.
My lower brain started screaming at me, clearly not wanting to share in the experience of either sort of climax. I decided to let it have its way.
“Would you cut that out,” I had to shout at the two of them, only to receive a chuckle from the alien pair.
“I am trying to do my job,” I implored, in my rare moments of frustration.
“Hey filterer, if you can’t *blank**blank*handle it,” Blueneck offered. “Then look out your *blank*porthole. If that’s the only kind of *blank*entertainment you can handle.”
“Yeah,” Because added. “Nothing from nothing.”
I managed to pull my thoughts away. I was going to have to find something to keep me focused against receiving his spare fantasies. And the only thing available was black space.
Now this may have been a mistake, but I had no way of knowing what was actually out there, and what it might be interested in. If I had known, I may have well put up with the balky transceiver, whatever being part of Because’s, or Blueneck’s personal history may have been better than the madness that followed. At least a little.
Or maybe not. That was one of those things that I’ll never be sure of. Crazy is like that, you know.
<<Galactic News Flash: Surviving clones of the infamous deceased War Fleet Emperor of the Gorasa have been forced into hiding as hundreds of their duplicates have been found murdered in a staggering array of methods. Investigators are baffled by the fact that none of the clones has been killed the same way twice. After all, they report, what kind of consentient – or consentients – would have both the need for vengeance coupled with the same degree of creativity.>>