trans_9 | I've gained Nothing, therefore I have Nothing left to Lose. [open]

He’d failed.

He’d failed miserably.

Everything had gone according to plan. Dustin got a layout of the ship, figured out all the key locations, found his weapons and tools, and had made it down to Neuropathy with only a few distractions here and there. True, once he got inside and Kirk got involved (along with security and the Major), things got a little out of hand for a few minutes. But in the end he still managed to get through to Stacy’s mainframe via one of the inorganic consoles and his cellphone—and, just as he expected, he ran into a pretty powerful defense mechanism.

Dustin had never seen anything quite like it before. The code itself was in an alien language and format (though that admittedly did not take long to sort out), and once he’d translated it into something recognizable it engulfed anything he threw at it. It was through sheer luck that he was able to decrypt and block the section that related to physical ship defenses so that Stacy didn’t hurt anyone while he was working—or, worse yet, hurt the one he was trying to save in the process.

It took roughly forty minutes of continuous typing, referencing, sweating and cursing for Dustin to probe his way through most of the security code. He was able to safely disable about a third of it. Two-thirds was beginning to look like a possible window of success, and at the rate that he was learning the code and adapting to Stacy’s counter-scripts his task was slowly becoming easier. Then, just as Dustin thought he had the hang of things, right when he let his guard down for the first time, the AI struck back viciously and managed to completely disable his phone, therefore destroying any chance he had at the time of getting past. The speed and ferocity in which it did so was totally unexpected, as if Stacy was predicting how Dustin would react next in order to disable each strand she threw at him—but this, this was impossible…not that he didn’t believe in telepathy, but he’d long thought that the frequency and turbulence of his thoughts made his mind impenetrable, equating to something like putting one’s finger in a blender if attempted. How she managed was less of a mystery; it was more bizarre how Dustin had managed to overlook such a glaring possibility in his preparations…

How could he have been so dumb?

It was a miracle that he’d escaped the brig (and the Major, no less), but now Dustin was on the run from everyone and everything. Judging from the crowd that had amassed and followed him inside Neuropathy, there was no doubt that his failed endeavor to get inside Stacy’s brain and fix her, once and for all, had long since been broadcasted to everyone’s Omnicom and had earned him widespread acrimony. Though, then again, he’d still managed to get pretty far into her programming to prove that he’d put up an impressive fight, one that few were probably expecting from him.

No matter; it still wasn’t enough.

So now, downtrodden, starved and exhausted, Dustin wandered into the City. He hadn’t eaten or slept since he woke up, kept hydrated only because he was stabbed by annoying tentacles each time he passed through the Living Area. Frankly he hadn’t expected that he would be on this ship long enough to worry about such matters.

Obviously he was wrong.

Staggering, the scruffy man’s gaunt figure walked blindly forward in a trance-like march. His deep green eyes, accented with bright red veins, were wide open and unblinking, staring at nothing, and yet wandering this way and that as if following invisible lines of text. The gears in his head were turning, nigh audible if one pays attention—though that sound is actually Dustin muttering to himself, quietly and without moving his lips. He seems to be speaking in…Russian? It doesn’t matter, what with the translating systems, because even with them he’s not saying anything coherent. Just numbers and letters…

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Information of course," Alessa said, "Just like you. So I'm curious: Why ARE you running away so quickly, in such a frantic pace?"

That answer was to be expected—Dustin wasn’t sure he would agree to provide much else for a girl that age, demon or Muse or not. But the request itself was not at all based on real facts; Dustin wasn’t running, nor was he frantic.

“I’m paranoid,” the scruffy man mumbled, “I’m paranoid and I’m thinking.”

Yes, vague answers. They are the best kind.

"That's vague and not at all informative," Alessa said, waving her hand away. "You didn't think I would tell you anything like that, would you? I do want to know what you've done."

“Yes,” was the immediate answer, but what the hell? She was just an illusionary demon-child, yeah? How could this possibly work against him?...

Okay, he could think of many ways this could backfire, especially if this wasn’t actually a hallucination. Right now Dustin honestly didn’t care.

“I tried to fix the ship,” he spat, glaring at a point on the ceiling, “I tried to fix the ship and I couldn’t.”

There. Is that satisfactory, demon-child?

"Hmph," was Alessa's reply, and she simply waited. If he really wanted an answer for her, he was going to have to do a little better than that.

Thankfully, he did.

"Oh, well, that's bound to get you in hot water. If you think the Captains are bad, wait until you meet that Leon. I hear talk that he's supposed to be pretty harsh on people who endanger the ship."

Not that she cared, not really.

"Of course, there are more dangerous things to worry about, but I suppose you'll be in the brig."

“Really?” Dustin rolled his eyes cynically, “What a brilliant observation! I’m amazed you were able to make that jump!”

Okay, he’s going to stop being sarcastic now, he promises (not really).

“Did you seriously think that the Captains weren’t already enamored with me beforehand?” the gaunt man shifted to a more comfortable stance, “Not that it matters what they think of me. If they were really as in control as they say they are, then I’d definitely be in the brig right now.”

And by “they”, Dustin really means “Shitface Kirk”. No need to get specific, though.

Alessa just stared at him. "Sarcasm is the sign of an inferior human defense system. I suppose that's what you need to seem interesting though."

Alessa shrugged. "If Captains just don't like you, that can be transferred to the rest of the crew, and that could make things unpleasant for you. I mean, you could continue to alienate yourself, and continue to be unpleasant, but that will probably only make you liked by similar unpleasant individuals. As for being in the Brig, if you think that won't happen soon, you are wrong."

Here she smiled. "Do you know anything about the Nightmare King?"

Dustin could’ve gone into an entire speech about how sarcasm could be turned into an art form, but that was Gary’s monologue, not his. There would be something definitively wrong with stealing that from him that even Dustin was uncomfortable with.

And for the rest of Alessa’s little demon lecture…well frankly he didn’t care. Social ranking, authority, jail…none of it was permanent, none of it was important or relevant to his goals. Therefore they received no extra thought from the emaciated man—only a disinterested blink.

Now the Nightmare King, on the other hand…

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it from whatever that Omnicom announcement was,” Dustin waved his gloved hand absently, “Stalks people in their dreams and whatnot. Yadda yadda.”

…Yeah, he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

"Those yadda yaddas might be more dangerous than you think," Alessa said. "If I were you, I might try finding someone that can try and help gain some footing at keeping yourself grounded. If not, what might be a minor inconvenience will be something much worse. Even one like me has to mkae some kind of preparation."

That was all he was getting from her though. He had turned out to be even more useless than that red haired girl that had been discourteous those weeks ago.

"Then again, it might be fun to see how you react to your worst fears," Alessa said with a rather nasty smile.

Demon Child was still a hallucination to Dustin. This might explain his willingness to elaborate so much to her despite his overwhelming paranoia.

“Oh I’ve been preparing,” the scruffy man grinned and affectionately patted his skull, “My abilities make me immune to telepathic and astral-based assaults. Therefore my mind is unreadable and impenetrable; and besides, it’s not like I’ve been sleeping or anything. The Nightmare King can’t get me while I’m awake.”

He seemed really proud of this.

“But if you still want to see me relive my worst fears, then you’re seeing me now!” Dustin laughed with a healthy dose of insanity, “I’m experiencing them now!”

Alessa stared a moment. "You are, without a doubt, the oddest human being in this place so far. You mean to say that just because you think that you can fight off the Nightmare King that he won't find another way? They say he is akin to a god, and for that reason alone, you should be wary. Gods are not easy to kill."

And yes, she would certainly see that it would be killed.

"If you say so," Alessa said, shrugging. "I already told you things. It wouldn't be in my interest to continue wasting my time. I have work to do."

Gods. He’d heard of them, seen manifestations of them—they weren’t that impressive. For the magnificent beings that people portrayed them as, even they had certain critical flaws that were easy to expose if you looked hard enough. All it took was some persistence and the ability to get under people’s skins.

If Alessa hadn’t already noticed, Dustin possessed both of those things.

“That makes two of us.”

I've gained Nothing, therefore I have Nothing left to Lose. [open]

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