The Decima

Saddiffer

He listened to the unfamiliar silence.

What is my life?

It was all hazy until Karmmrak where he battled the glowing one, blue blip, and the mountains. The planet was quickly evacuated, leaving him ground-bound. Shortly after his arrival, the Rumbler’s tactics changed, becoming static and predictable. That was when he theorized Prosine was attacked by the Crypt Wurm described by the orange blip. He smashed through all forces, each of his demonkin’s destruction brought on dozens more. The ash choked the land and sky until only dust and Rumbler remained. He wounded the glowing one in a failed ambush against him. Then he grew bored trying to catch her. The Rumbler’s and drones offered only mild distractions. Overcome, he borrowed and slept until the boy and his crew arrived. And him. That thing.

That Baxter, the most irascible dog.

Everything changed when that babbling corgi ruined everything. His own arrogance blinded him from such a stunt. His punishment: becoming the dog’s pet. A most miserable of existence befell him.

And yet.

He got what he desired, in the end. He was off that hell-forsaken planet traveling the universe with his new…

Companions?

Crew?

Acquaintances?

He lacked the words to describe them. He didn’t appreciate the crew and they certainly didn’t trust him. The boy Gideon was…

An anomaly. No human could or would willingly do what he did. His demonic nature- no. No longer. He had to remove old habits. That went into the second deviation from sanity. He wasn’t a demon.

“Eudaemon.”

An extremely powerful spiritual being. No longer demonic, but not divine either. He stood statuesque in a utility closet. He wasn’t sure why he was there. It felt cozy, with a port window to the outside universe. He stared out into the kaleidoscopic colors of faster than light travel, simply soaking in existence. He stared, still as a stone, like he had been shutdown.

It was quiet. His mind. His heart. It was silent.

The deafening room of shouting and shrieking had gone dead.

What now?

His was a molten blade that had been quenched.

What the boy did made no sense. You couldn’t change a Demon’s purpose, its desires, or its being. But he did. After joining in a covenant, he had felt his very form torn apart and rearranged, the room of his mind had been broken down and rebuilt into something new. He spotted a ceramic cup left behind and abandoned. He grasped it with his six-fingered hand, which now looked alien to him. The ash grey flesh had become pale white, with shading to black in the recesses. Normally, his instinct would crush such a fragile thing. He would have done it without thought before that fateful moment. Now, he held it gently. He peered close at the cup, the two blue pricks of flame he had for eyes flickered for a second at this new revelation. He could now enjoy the arts and crafts he so devastated long ago. Another alternative to living had branched forth.

Instead of ripping and tearing… Now it’s appreciating and admiring….

Saddiffer was wholly confused by this dramatic change.

Feh.

He felt the instinct he had for brutality was gone. He felt something else, though. He had no words for it and no way to describe the feeling. He felt drawn to protect his new crew.

Most of all he felt like he could choose.

He heard the utility door open, then two pairs of clacking paws prancing into the room.

“Ow,” he grunted.

Baxter had gently nibbled his haunch, his mouth still firmly attached.

“Wh’ aw’ you he’r? he asked with his mouth full of haunch.

“Master Baxter, I… Do not know. The view is- it’s something I cannot describe,” he replied absently, turning to pick up the dog, holding him in the crook of his arm. His second thumb idly stroked Baxter’s ear as he walked from the closet. The sad gargoyle face looked even more sturgeon.

“Yes- the grey lights are grey! The smells are… Smelly!” he barked before pausing, “are you just OK?” he in turn asked, dropping his ears as he glanced back.

“I am fine, master Baxter- everything is different. And confusing.”

He let out a low mutter, thinking of a metaphor that his master could understand.

“Imagine liking steak... -and then not liking steak.”

“Oh, I know that feeling- yup, yup, yup- sometimes I eat too much and then I do not like steak, but then I nap and then I do want steak. You just need naps!”

Saddiffer sent a burst of air from his nostrils.

“Perhaps. My mind feels quiet, like those nacelles you described. They screeched for a time, but then something changed when they shut down. It is silent,” he muttered as he slowly trudged the Decima’s corridors.

“It will be just OK, Saddiffer!”

“Perhaps.”

He padded along, inspecting the fine art of the walls, floors, and ceilings. He saw the story of the birth of metal ones.

Anform. That is what they are called. Made of metal and quantum… Thingies.

That was the extent of Baxters’ knowledge of those strange automata.

He didn't know the rest, but he would find out now that he was awake. Stuck inside Baxter was an isolating experience to say the least. The warrior Anform, named after Baxter’s favorite food, appeared to be the most promising to communicate with. Time would tell.

The dog scrambled and wiggled from the former demon’s grasp, plopping to the floor as he rushed off towards an open room.

“Saddiffer! Gid is in here which means he is hurt! Let us go!”

He breathed in, a strange feeling flooded him.

Anxiety.

Destroying for so long, of course, friendly interaction would be a weakness. Feh.

He banished it all away, staying cold sturgeon at the idea of meeting the rest of the crew. Potentially all at once. Baxter rushed into the medical ward, chuffing up a storm.

“Gid! Saddiffer is not napping anymore. This is just great!”

He kept back outside the room, half of his body blocked by the doorway. He could hear the quarrel beyond, recognizing the floating orange blip. He saw the soft glow of angelic healing.

“Baxter, you need to be quiet- Gideon’s sedated!”

“I do not know this sedateded! Do you mean sleeping?”

“Yes! Sleeping!”

“Oh. Will he be just ok?”

“Yes- he’s fine! Wait- what do you mean Saddiffer’s awake?”

He spotted the orange blip zoom to the entrance, adjusting her glasses as she inspected him. She betrayed a brief second of surprise. He felt her tiny eyes scanning through him.

He folded his snow-white arms, the pits of his eyes flared at her. She returned the gesture at seeing him.

“Oh, my God… Oh hi!”

He blinked absently, unprepared for the welcoming.

She folded her arms, turning to the side as her eyes continued to scan him.

“Saddiffer! Uh. Hi. You look different. How do you feel?”

He was instantly taken off guard. The orange blip was reacting in the least appropriate way. There should have been screaming and shouting. Or at the very least fleeing and wailing of their impending doom.

How do I feel?

How do I feel?

He grunted, the blue pits of his eyes flared at her.

“Nm. Different.”

A brilliant and scathing riposte.

“And… That’s it? Just different?” Her face twisted in confusion as she turned to the medical ward, “ Baxter, what did you do to Saddiffer?”

“I did nothing! Saddiffer is a good boy and deserves treats- just like me!”

Baxter quickly went quiet as someone inside shushed him.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, turning to go tutt at his tiny master. He held up a clawed hand, halting her.

“Wait. Master Baxter is fine. I’m not used to this.”

Shindow adjusted her glasses, facing him fully.

“To what?”

Feh! Why am I speaking to this orange blip?

He waved his hand at her, at the vessel. At all of this nonsense. He heard other speakers inside the medical ward. The boy, the glowing one and a moving tin-can.

“This. All of this.”

She cocked her head, lowering her glasses.

“You mean other people?”

“Nm.”

He didn’t feel like talking anymore. It was all too ridiculous. He turned and padded away, gazing at the relief carvings. Stories heaped upon stories. This most ancient and crafted of vessels fed him. The radiative spiritual energies billowed around him, his soul absorbed the latent power, adding to his already mountainous abilities.

“Saddiffer, wait!”

He paused as the orange blip caught up, floating beside him. In a previous life, he would have scattered her to nothing. But now, he glanced at her, his beady eyes betraying the confusion of seeing what was once his enemy now showing him a modicum of grace.

“Please, just a minute! I’m sorry about earlier. I know things are probably still weird, with you only recently trying to kill us and all… Hehe, anyway, since then I’ve seen amazing things. Extraordinary things! I believe what Gideon did was right. It was from Adonai! I accept that you’re one of our crew, Saddiffer- nothing will change that!”

He blinked absently, going still as a statue.

Feh!

“And what did change?”

She smiled, glancing far into the hall.

“I witnessed Adonai’s grace. I saw it. I saw the end of the old world. I dreamed of our God’s blessings towards Anforms and AI.”

“Blessings? From that glowing one?”

“You know Adonai?”

He sighed, shaking his head, “Your glowing one wouldn’t cease her prattling about him,” his voice suddenly oozed contempt.

“You don’t remember anything?” the glowing blip refused to acknowledge his anger.

“Nothing before the planet, no. Feelings. Instinct. Ripping and tearing.”

“Well- uh- good! Take this as a new beginning. Like it or not, you’re one of us now! We’re all in this together.”

He grunted, padding away to the explore more of the vessel. He paused, looking back at her smiling form.

Orange blip...

“We shall see, orange blip… Uh -nm,” he brushed at his bat-ear, trying to remember her name.

She zipped closed, palming her mouth as she whispered.

“It’s Shindow. Don’t worry, I suspect with what I’ve seen, we’ll all need to be remembering more names before the end of it.”

He grunted, his face scrunching in confusion.

More? Feh. Nm? What’s this?

He felt the ship lurch. His perception expanded outside of that bubble of FTL, feeling the empty space surrounding them. They’ve stopped. He exchanged looks with Shindow, turning to follow her as she floated to the bridge. She turned back, waving to him before winking out of existence. He spotted the other crew spill from the medical ward, escorting the boy to the bridge. Master Baxter was crooked contently in her other arm. He padded behind as an unnoticed specter. The glowing one held the boy’s arm, leading him along. His countenance was frail, weak, and just shy of tearing down the middle.

With him as captain, how long will I survive?

He narrowed his eyes, his wings flowing like a cape. He spotted the bridge door opening and closing just as the glowing one entered last. He had better things to do. He turned, stalking away deeper into the bowels of the vessel.

Shindow, the orange blip…

No one else would treat him in the same manner.

Of course, Master Baxter...

Was the exception and the reason he was still alive. Yes, he could say that if it weren’t for that meddlesome beast, he would be the one in control, but he had to remember the boy’s flippant courage to the point of suicide. A second of inattention would have had either this vessel crashing to the moon, or the boy’s brains splattering the deck from a hidden weapon. If the boy cooperated at all, that is to say. He got what he wanted. Off world. Perhaps it was justice, fate, or karma. And if enslavement was the cost of leaving that dead prison of a world, then so be it.

He grumbled as he padded the corridor, eying the art. The reliefs were gorgeous, telling the tail of mankind’s journey into space. He absently felt at the wall, feeling the instant shearing of metal. He pulled back quickly as he looked at the relief, seeing the deep gash across the priceless art. He quickly glanced at his claw, seeing the embedded gold. He stood still as a statue, the pits of his eyes flared. He couldn’t take back this moment. It had happened and was done. New feelings boiled up, ones he had never felt before. He recoiled, snapping his head to and fro around the corridor. No doubt the blue glowing blip was watching.

But it was done. He grasped his heart, unable to comprehend the new feelings. He wanted to hide, he wanted turn back time, make it all go back to normal. He ruined it. He was bad. He gripped his chest, turning away, looking for some place lay low. He rushed towards the closest door as it slid open, revealing a makeshift laboratory and a strange black cube. He stared at the object, feeling oddly uneasy about it. He knew the Watcher’s spiritual energy, but had never seen one of their artifacts up close. The entrance slid shut, leaving him in isolation.

“What are these rubbish feelings? Over an unintentional display of strength?”

He glanced at the wall, his mind grinding and whirring through what he was feeling. For a being so ancient, it took moments to process.

“Ah. Guilt, shame, and remorse. I've gone and gained a bloody conscience. This is new. It is strange my contract with Master Baxter wasn’t broken by such an act. I doubt I’ll get second chances. Or perhaps...”

He focused, willing his contract to appear. The napkin had become an ancient scroll, unraveling to reveal those dreaded words.

“Baxter is the best doggy.”

He spotted the glowing text beneath it, the most recent edition. The boy’s covenant. He looked away, taken aback by the words. Such heavy text. It couldn’t be. The contact vanished as his eyes darted around the room.

“What did he do to me?!”

He sensed it. A micron of movement. His eyes snapped to the table. To the black cube.

It had moved.

Hello now. What is this?

He stared still as a corpse, keeping his beady eyes on the artifact. He focused on the object, prying through the hidden secrets. A minor distraction from these new feelings was called for.