Secondhand Headhunting

[in_the_cracks]

When the PIN flash fades, all is pitch black in the room where Evil!Telrim and her new guest have arrived. Unfazed and laughing with pleasure at her success, the Controller stands, and moves across the room confidently, shoes ringing on the cold metal deck-plates. She finds the light controls with ease born of habit, and the lights flicker on to

Comments

[darkladyb]

He growls at the first hit, and then slumps at the second though he manages to twitch a bit before he goes still.

[in_the_cracks]

One might well twitch after contact with a Dracon beam. It's not quite true that those weapons were modified solely to make them more painful - but it is a happy side-effect. Well, evil!Telrim likes it.

She lowers the beam, and studies her truculent candidate. "It would be so much simpler just to make you obey," she mutters, and then shudders at an attack of opportunity from within. "Keep trying, human," she snarls aloud. "You might just convince me to stay for your torment."

[darkladyb]

Crusher is still and silent, but he's already doggedly fighting toward consciousness.

[in_the_cracks]

Her host's bout of rebelliousness quelled for now, the Yeerk checks her beam's settings, and amuses herself with inflicting some small punishment on the insolent human. While keeping an eye on the prisoner, obviously.

There's not much to see from the outside, but Natasha is shortly wishing the man would wake up and distract the Yeerk.

[darkladyb]

The first intimation of said waking is Crusher's sudden sitting up and wrenching his legs apart, then starting to his feet.

[in_the_cracks]

Telrim immediately has the beam trained on him again, free hand dialling the intensity up a notch. She tilts her head, watching to see if he plans to make himself more of a nuisance. Her host is abandoned to sob in the back of their head.

"You're making it very tempting to switch plans entirely," she observes, calculating how long it would take and what excuse she could give Issek - or if she'd even need his help.

[darkladyb]

He just growls and charges, ready to dodge weapon fire if he can.

[in_the_cracks]

With the beam already aimed, all she has to do is pull the trigger- once, twice, three times in quick succession, her gun hand automatically tracking his motion-

And then self-preservation reflexes take over and she is throwing herself out of that chair without waiting to see the result of her shots.

The Yeerk's lived this long, after all.

[darkladyb]

He dodges at least one of the shots, then bellows pure rage and hate as he slams into the empty chair like a sack of lead weights.

[in_the_cracks]

Evil!Telrim picks herself up, circling him with her beam in hand, eyes alight with fury. All intentions of playing politely and mutual profit are swept aside now. She knows what she wants. Clearly the only thing to do is take it

[darkladyb]

At the moment Crusher is only a heap of inert matter. Rather stinky and in desperate need of a bath inert matter.

[in_the_cracks]

Her co-ordination's already going as the human-Controller leans over him. She brushes his hair back from one ear and then presses in to begin the move.

She contracts and pulls away from good!Natasha's brain, leaving the distraught human mind behind her. The last sensation they feel together is Asfil's taloned hand clamping on Natasha's shoulder to hold her in place.

And then the Yeerk is away, sliming and twisting its way inside a whole new cranium. Telrim enfolds Crusher's brain in itself, connecting neuron to neuron with ease and testing the join.

He busies himself with examining his new host's mind, tapping what information he can and studying that awareness while the body recovers. He doesn't notice the sounds coming from without, as Natasha staggers and is pulled away.

"No," the female protests, struggling to speak. "Please... Asfil... she's not... you can't let her..." Her voice fades into a slurred mumble as the Hork-Bajir dumps her in a corner.

[darkladyb]

It's a strange awareness he's in contact with now. One with a viewpoint utterly alien in its memories and how it has experienced them. He may not even be able to recognize most of the visual ones, recorded as they were with senses that no organic being possesses. One thing he'll be able to recognize clearly though is the overwhelming emotion that touches this mind even when it's insensate.

Hate.

Crusher hates everything but himself, though he hates the stinking organic shell he finds himself trapped in now. That hate is impartial, and it is brutal. Though it's not as stupid as some have assumed him to be. There is cunning there too, and as he returns Telrim will be able to feel him watching back, studying. And hating.

[in_the_cracks]

As Crusher experiences his memories, so too does Telrim. The Yeerk is quiet, or intends to be, but as he calls up facts and memories there's no hiding his delight. It's good to be in control, to take a body like this with sensory input that's like merging with a waterfall. It's always good, but this is something else, even beyond the joy of success.

He rifles through Crusher's store of knowledge, skimming facts and experience and then going back to revel in the memories of alien sights and senses. And then out again to consider, with better detachment, that loathing for the world and all that's in it which pervades everything in this mind. The Yeerk watches and is amused.

Then he finally opens Crusher's eyes and looks up, a low chuckle emanating from his throat.