[ 08 - CHAPTER EIGHT ]

― cognitive warfare ―

A smile graced Orion's lips as he scratched behind the ear of his closest friend.

The soft and curled fur of the small dog had been like a comforting blanket to Orion ever since he'd stumbled across it, watching its mangy hindquarters twitch as it dug for scraps in a dumpster. The night he'd met the miniature poodle was one he didn't think he would ever forget. It was much like the moments some swore would be shown in a "greatest moments" flashback right before they died. He assumed that most people would be shown the moment they met their soulmate or, perhaps, the birth of their children. But for Orion, he was sure he would be shown the frightened look that plagued his best friend's eyes when they'd first met each other. The fur-coated mammal had saved his life that night, after all.

Orion hadn't believed in miracles before he'd met the dog. Though, when he trudged into the grime-covered alleyway that reeked of feces and spoiled food, with neither intention nor willpower to live to see another day, he didn't think he could describe the dog's appearance as anything but a miracle. The seemingly trivial canine was no larger than a flea in the grand scheme of things, but it gave Orion a reason to carry on and for that, it was worthy of Orion's eternal gratitude.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Orion announced, addressing the dog that knelt next to him. "They have dog treats decorated like gingerbread men and Santa Claus! Those sound good, don't they, Titan?"

Titan wagged his tail a few times, drawing a laugh out of his owner's mouth. Orion knew he couldn't understand a word he was saying, just as he couldn't have comprehended any of Orion's gentle words when he'd tried to coax him out of the dumpster at their first meeting, but he sometimes liked to pretend he could. If anything, it helped to ward off the crippling loneliness and guilt that always seemed to be chipping away at Orion's heart.

"How much for the box of Christmas treats?" Orion asked the younger boy that stood across from him.

The boy was exhausted, judging by the dark bags that painted the skin beneath his eyes. His hair was kept in tangled knots, and even when he stopped leaning on the counter in front of him long enough to run his fingers through his curls, the tangles remained abstinent in their positioning. Rather than answering Orion, he let out a long sigh and let his gaze skim over his surroundings.

Orion frowned, his brows furrowing in bewilderment as he followed the boy's gaze. There was nothing unusual about the pet store they stood in. Microscopic layers of dirt layered the walls, and the items that sat on the shelves were in disarray, but that was not an unordinary occurrence for this particular store. Orion was aware that the store's bland decorations and unsatisfactory cleaning habits were one of the reasons why it didn't receive many customers, but it was also the main reason Orion went there to buy the dog food that was hanging in his hand. Temporarily occupying a filthy building was worth not having to interact with many Earth residents.

"Boy?" Orion called out, taking a step closer to the counter that displayed a label reading 'Check Out' in large, red lettering. If nothing was out of order with the shop's appearance, meaning there was no reason for the employee to be looking anywhere but where Orion stood, then the pimple-ridden child must not have heard him speak. "Is your hearing impaired? You seem to be unaware that I'm speaking to you."

The boy startled, and when his line of sight drifted to the dark-haired customer that was looking at him expectantly, he straightened his shoulders and pulled a white capsule out of each ear. Orion rose an eyebrow, deciding to keep his thoughts about why the boy had been wearing earbuds without a cord to himself.

The boy let out a brief chuckle before saying, "Man, it's not the sixties anymore."

When Orion didn't respond, the employee gestured to his shirt as an act of clarification. "Your shirt," he added. "With the flowers and the collar."

Orion lifted the plastic bag of dog food up and set it on the counter, his stoic expression not shifting in the slightest. He wasn't sure what the boy - whose name was 'Kyle', according to the faded nametag he wore - meant by referring to "the sixties". He didn't even know what the sixties were, much less what his shirt had to do with them.

"I asked how much the box of treats were," Orion said, trying to refrain from scolding Kyle. It made him uncomfortable when he didn't understand others' attempts at jocular conversation.

Kyle jerked his head, a failed endeavor to move his long hair out of his icy blue eyes, and slid the bag of dog food under a scanner before responding, "Twenty-five."

Orion's eyebrows shot up. He wound Titan's leash so tightly around his fingers that they began to leave red marks, but he didn't seem to notice as he pointed a finger at the box of dog treats. "You're kidding. Twenty-five dollars for this? There's not even ten treats in here, it's hardly worth a price that high?"

"Listen man, I don't set the prices for any of this stuff. If you're really that upset about it, there's a Wal-Mart down the street. You can get it there for, like, five bucks or something," Kyle countered.

Orion fingers twisted themselves into an irritated fist. He couldn't help but notice how the boy was slurring his words as he spoke, curled his shoulders inward as if he was cowering in the face of some hideous beast, and how he haphazardly waved his hand around when he explained something. The way he exchanged words with his customers so casually was not something that would have been considered acceptable on Saros, and the fact that his lack of courtesy was acceptable on Earth made Orion's blood boil in a way that it hadn't in a long time. It seemed that a fallen prince had no dignity even in a place that was crawling with as much mayhem and indecency as Earth was.

Orion knew his next words would not be as mild-mannered as childhood tutoring would have taught, so he tried to lighten his tone with a laugh. Regrettably, he realized too late that his jolly laugh sounded more like a cruel taunt, and as with all verbal expressions, there was no way he could retract his chuckle.

"Is that what you say every time someone makes a complaint? Go to Wal-Mart?" he began, striving to ignore the affronted look on the employee's face. Fortunately for the man whose words were bleeding with vexation and frustration, it wasn't a hard task when dealing with someone whose behavior was as infuriatingly rude as Kyle's. "Why don't you lower your prices so I can buy some bloody treats for my dog?"

Soft clicks sounded from the tile floor, and Orion glanced down to see Titan's short claws scratching at an invisible flea on his neck. Orion leaned down to rub his dog's head, whispering, "I know, Titan, I know. This man is as annoying as the fleas on your back."

"Woah, calm down, dude," Kyle laughed, causing Orion's teeth to clench. "There's no reason to start a fight about it. I already told you I don't decide how much these things cost, I just work the register. They're just dog treats anyway."

Orion slammed his fist on the counter, the undisturbed expression on Kyle's face acting as an encouragement for the Sarosian man to take hold of his shirt collar with his free hand. His fingers clenched around the white fabric with enough force to create wrinkles, and it was only then that Kyle began to show respect to Orion, his quivering bottom lip a telltale sign of his newfound sense of inferiority. One end of Orion's mouth lifted in a sadistically gleeful grin.

When he began to speak, his voice was so quiet that Kyle had to strain to hear the strings of indignant words that were flowing from the Sarosian's mouth like the waves of a flood. "You know, this is probably why nobody ever comes to this preposterous store. Your customer service is ridiculous. Why can't I just buy the treats here for five dollars instead of having to go all the way to Wal-Mart for a lower price?"

"That...that's not how it works," Kyle stuttered. When Orion didn't respond and not even his eyes moved as they bore into the younger man, Kyle added, "So do you want the dog food or not?"

Orion let out a huff and pulled his hand away from the boy's collared shirt. As soon as Kyle was released from the grip of the man whose build made him look like a dwarf in comparison, he ran his hands over the crumpled areas of his shirt, his hands shaking as he wondered what he'd said that had angered the man so deeply.

"No," Orion answered, his grip on Titan's leash finally loosening. "No, I don't."

He glanced down at his dog and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, a wordless order for Titan to follow him as he walked toward the exit. "Come on, buddy. We're going to take our business to a place that doesn't employ imbeciles who 'just work the register'."

Before he'd stepped too far away from the check-out counter to be heard, he snarkily called out, "Good riddance, you foolish, insignificant, poor excuse for a hired workman."

Even as he shouted harsh words at the young boy, he felt his harbored guilt began to gnaw at his chest once more, a stubborn feeling that was insistent on tearing him apart. He knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to grow so angry with the boy. He was just that, after all: a boy. In addition to that, he was an earthen boy, and he could not be expected to act any different from the cretinous beings that surrounded him.

As Orion opened the creaking door of his rusting minivan, it dawned on him that it should not have mattered whether the employee was an Earth-born child or a Sarosian elder. He should not have let the situation escalate as much as it did, especially when it regarded something so trivial as a box of treats. Hadn't his reckless and rampant anger been the fuel that ignited his destruction on Saros so long ago?

The sound of his ignition revving was not enough to draw his thoughts back to reality. As he drove through into the crowded streets of New York City, colorful street lights flashing their instructions for every driver to see, he was brought back to a time when flashing lights brought him an unimaginable joy in the midst of numerous chaotic happenings. It had been the last time he'd felt such joy and pride in who he was, and it was the last time he'd seen the glowing stars of the universe in the bright and harmonious light they were meant to be viewed in.

Unless they weren't. Mere seconds after he'd stood on his warship, watching the beautiful blue of a distant star as he sped towards an impossible victory, he'd betrayed his sister. An hour after that, he'd watched as blood disfigured his men's faces so groteuely that Orion could hardly recognize them. Not even a day's time after that, his whole world had slipped through his fingers as his mother's soft features dissolved into smoke and ash. How could a universe that allowed all of that allow beauty in stars as well?

Orion was torn out of his stupor when Titan let out a soft whine from where he sat in the passenger seat. He was quick to regain control of his car that had been drifting into the opposite lane of traffic, and ignored the piercing sound of car horns as he muttered a "thank you" to the dark-colored dog. Titan rarely whined unless Orion was drifting off into a perverted reverie of anguish and ruined memories. Somehow, Orion figured, he must be able to sense when Orion was becoming lost in his own mind.

Orion whipped around a corner, his gaze landing on the apartment complex he'd grown familiar with in his time on Earth. It was secluded, yet no more than a ten minute drive away from the maze of roads that were commonly described as highways, and Orion enjoyed the peaceful silence it presented him with.

As his bulky van inched closer to his front door, he noticed a group of black vehicles parked in front of his driveway. A cluster of men and women clothed in black military wear surrounded his door, the weaponry that was strapped to their sides reminding him of how the Sarosian army men wore their weapons. However, it quickly became obvious to Orion that the group was not of Saros origin. Their rectangular and compact weapons were of a foreign sort that Orion couldn't remember having encountered before.

"Looks like we're taking a quick detour," Orion mused, mostly to Titan but partly to himself.

Just as Orion pulled the shift on the center console into 'reverse' and began to back up, hoping the men in black suits wouldn't see him, black vehicles not unlike the ones at his house drove into place behind him, successfully blocking his exit.

"Or not," Orion said.

It didn't take longer than two seconds for Orion to realize that, even if he was somehow able to maneuver his way out from the circle of cars that now surrounded him, there was no way he would be able to out-drive them. He'd hardly been on Earth for a year, and he'd only had his driver's license for a few months - he didn't have near the amount of driving experience an escape would require.

"Step out of the car and put your hands in the air," one of the men in black suits shouted. He had his gun raised and pointed at the windshield of Orion's car, and the rest of the men quickly followed his lead.

Orion had no idea what he'd done to induce a deluge of armed cars and men to appear at his front door. He didn't have any friends aside from Titan, meaning not a single human being knew of his true origins. When he'd crashlanded on Earth, it had been miles away from any form of civilization, and every news channel had simply declared it to be an asteroid. If these men had no way of knowing about Saros and the crimes he committed there, then what could they possibly be pointing guns at him for? Yelling at a child employee wasn't a crime on Earth, was it?

Despite his unanswered questions and lack of knowledge about what was happening, Orion did find that he knew one thing: he would not go down without a fight. It was not the Sarosian way, and though he'd betrayed his people in the highest degree imaginable, the Sarosian way ran through every vein in his body like the oxygen that allowed him to live.

He leaned over and opened his glovebox. He might have lost his ship in his detrimental landing, but he was fortunate enough to be able to carry a Sarosian weapon with him as he crawled out from under the hull of the burning ship.

"I said get out of the car!" the balding man repeated.

Orion slid his foraged weapon into the belt loop of his faded blue jeans, pulling his flowered shirt over it to disguise the shiny black rod. He steadily lifted his hands into the air, briefly lowering one just long enough to open his door as he quietly ordered, "Titan, stay."

Orion's sandaled feet landed on the rough pavement beneath him, and the sound of his car door slamming shut drowned out the whines of his shivering dog. He glanced around at the people around him, making an effort to make eye contact with each of them. Every person that brandished a gun - its target aimed at Orion's skull so accurately that he wondered if he had a target on his forehead - had the same expression plastered across their faces. They were fearless. Emotionless. Unmoving in their determination to follow orders. Orion allowed himself a deep breath as he recalled a sentiment from his time as a general: loyal men were the hardest sort of men to destroy.

Alas, he had no choice. His movements brisker than a speeding bullet, he pulled the plain black rod from his belt loop and whipped it out before him, the pressing of one button on the end causing a shimmering shield to open up in front of his body. The shield was tall enough to cover every bit of Orion's torse and then some, and its width measured exactly the same.

Seconds after the shield sprung into existence, the men in black released a torrent of gunfire upon Orion. Orion had enough experience with his shield that he was able to block each of the bullets, and it was required astoundingly little effort to charge at the man standing nearest to him, his leg sliding out with the sole purpose of sweeping the man's feet out from under him.

Orion repeated the action of gun wielder after gun wielder. He added slight variations to his movements so no one would catch on, and he was able to disarm an alarming amount of men and women with no more than a shield and Sarosian fighting tactics. Admittedly, it did surprise him that no one ran in fear, but he chalked that up to the fact that the citizens of Earth were not fearful people. Bravery was melded with every essence of their being, not unlike Orion's own people.

Nonetheless, Orion was triumphant enough in taking them down and removing their weapons that he was nearly taken aback when he hit the ground with a resounding thud. His face was the first to come into contact with the rough, coarse road, as he'd been holding his translucent shield to the side of him in the moments before he'd fallen. Crimson blood trickled into his eyes, blurring his vision as he tried to look up at the person who'd taken him down.

He wasn't sure if his vision was intact or if it was the redness of the blood that had leaked into his line of sight, but he was almost certain that his attacker had vibrant red hair. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision just enough to decipher that the person who'd taken him down had, in fact, been a woman.

He tried to push himself up to his knees, but the woman's booted foot pushed him back down, and her cold hand firmly took hold of his chin, turning it to face a dark silhouette of a man that was marching his way. Orion let out a cough and winced at the pain it brought his chest.

"Did my father send you?" he managed to sputter. He'd thought he'd eliminated the chance that these people could be of his own kind, but the only woman who'd ever caught him off-guard in a fight before had been his sister, a Sarosian woman. There was no way the red-headed woman whose foot remained on his back could be human.

The silhouette kneeled in front of Orion, but Orion was quick to note it was not in humility. His shoulders were too proud for that to be the case. Orion frowned as the man lowered his head to be level with Orion's. Oddly enough, there was a black space where the man's left eye should have been. Once again, Orion wished his vision would become clear again.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and the last thing he heard was the man's gruff voice as he remarked, "Do I look like your dad?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

So, I won't lie to you guys, this chapter was a MESS. The pacing is kind of off and the writing was more blunt than usual, but maybe this chapter kind of called for it? Anyway, I do like the concept, and once more, I left some things unanswered on purpose. They'll be explained later in the coming chapters, I promise.

Also, did anyone notice he named his dog after Titania? Because that is probably my favorite thing out of this entire chapter.

Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read this book! There aren't enough words in the entire world that could describe how much I appreciate it!

Q: WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FANDOM TO WRITE/READ ABOUT AND WHY?