Name: Jason Leygeist Age: 23 Height: 5'6" Weight: 119lbs Eye Color: Red Hair Color: White Character Background Information:
As Reported by Recruitment Operative:
Jason Leygeist was born on Freeport 5 in the Omega 41 system. The first two years of his life were spent on the inhospitable station, as he was too young to survive greater exposure to the system's neutron radiation. When he was nearly 3, his family moved to Freeport 1 in the nearby Omega 3 system, choosing to avoid Omicron Theta's Freeport 9 due to Corsairs. His parents died when he was 10, victims of a mining ship crash with the station. Since then, the Zoners had taken him in.
He traveled for some time aboard Zoner exploration vessels, filling the void his lack of family left with a thirst for the wonders of space travel. 2 years ago, he found himself flying escort for a research vessel in the Omicon systems. They encountered Nomads, and the ship was badly damaged and retreated to Freeport 11. Leygeist had particularly long exposure to the Nomad presence; as he stayed behind to keep the LF Nomads busy until his charges had escaped, at which time he followed. The Nomads did not pursue, apparently content with driving off the exploration team. Later, attacks on Freeport 11 brought Jason into contact with Nomads again. From what he says, the attacking craft either were the same, or were connected to the previous encounter. The made telepathic contact with him. It was traumatic, dual visions of peaceful, beautiful star scapes and foreign worlds, and visions of death, slaughter, as well as the battle raging outside the Freeport.
The experience scarred him to a degree, but the fascinating aspect is the development afterward. Zoner scientists working with Order agents believe his mildly unstable genetic structure, from his gestation and youth in Omega 41, coupled with the unique wave patterns of Nomad telepathy altered his genetic and cerebral makeup. His eye color changed, and his hair was shocked white. More interesting, he has since then demonstrated a considerable empathic ability and increased spatial awareness. For someone with no military training, he performs exceptionally in spacecraft piloting and zero-G exercises. Additionally, his empathic abilities allow him to detect hostility, lies, and a broad range of emotions. With training, he could become a skilled psychoanalyst or diplomatic team member. He has been under joint observation of the Zoners and Order specialists for the last 18 months and shows no signs of instability or Nomad contamination, nor of sympathies to Nomad activities.
Some personality traits of being distant socially and prone to bouts of isolation have been more common, however he has not been sited as at risk psychologically, and may be very useful in the Order. He has expressed a great deal of interest in learning more about the Nomads and stopping their hostile incursions into Sirius. He does not have the blood thirst that many victims of Nomad activity share, and thus may also be useful for recon, exploration, and scientific duties. He has been registered in the top 90th percentile in all academic subjects and shows promise in the basic military exercises he has been subjected to. When asked if he would be interested in joining the Order, he said yes, and admitted he had been waiting for us to ask him.
His application has been officially submitted as of the date this document reached Order High Command. Regular channels apply. He has a temporary Order neural net registry, and has asked that any response be sent there.
Amendment: Leygeist has been flying with the Order patrols in Minor. Captains of the vessels Ma'al and Horizon can confirm. His Griffin was critically damaged. He then took an Anubis from the training deck of the Isis to continue assisting patrols until that ship was destroyed in a surprise attack by unknown contacts at the Alaska JH. He is resting in the medical wing of the Isis under observation. His Zoner and Order handlers from FP11 have arrived to oversee his recovery and keep him from going out into space again until he is cleared for duty by command.
"Keepers have attacked Freeport 11. The Zoners need heavy fighter support. All Order units, break from current assignments ASAP and link up to provide the base with support!"
That was the captain of the Ma'al, a Geb carrier. Jason pulled hard on the stick, pulling his nose up and away from the furball of BHG Hammerheads engaging his wingmates. They broke by pairs, covering each other as they raced from the engagement, the Heavy Lifter Stick.Man as well as Reed's fighter staying behind to clean up the enemy forces.
Freeport 11 had been home for the last few years. He wasn't about to let it become so much debris. He put all power into his engines and rocketed away from battle towards the rescue effort.
Delta looked the same as usual, but sounded different. The comms were alive with sightings of Keepers, a particularly feared kind of Nomad. They sat for a moment while the captains of the carriers assessed the situation.
Suddenly Nomad fighters were approaching with great speed from the direction of the Freeport. No one waited for the order. When the Nomads opened fire, they returned it, along with the weapon platforms around the jump point. Sheets of energy crossed the gap between vessels. Jason's Nepthys took a hit, but the shields held fast. The Nomads fared not so well. The Ma'al's guns opened up on them, along with another carrier as it came out of the jump hole to Minor. THe fighter callsigned as One and Jason both returned fire as well. In moments the Nomad Assassins were clouds of expanding gas and so much debris.
"Move to FP11." The Ma'al began accelerating toward the station. Jason followed suite. He toggled a switch above his head and dropped into formation with the Geb. His scanners went hot only a few moments into cruise travel. "Incomming missile." His computer's calm announcement caused Jason to tighten the grip on his stick, then the impact hit far sooner than he expected. He thought there should be fire, noise, shrapnel, but instead all he saw was the Ma'al leap out far ahead of him. His cruise engines had been disrupted. Strange, he didn't know Nomads employed CD launchers. "I've been intercepted! Taking evasive action." He yanked the stick hard to the left and pulled it close to his side, then once vertical he gunned his thruster. His fighter leaped away as purple and pink energy washed behind him into the space he just occupied a second ago. "Incoming missile." Another CD, no, this one was real. He shoved the stick forward, then yanked it right, then left suddenly and held it there. His fighter juked in response, diving down, then feinting right and banking left hard. The missile was clever and stayed with him through the dive and the tight turn right, but it couldn't match the maneuver to the left and careened off on a ballistic trajectory, tumbling slightly as it tried to reacquire it's target in vain. He kept the back, and on his port side he saw the Nomads pass him, firing off snap shots at his ship. Then he engaged cruise. He let a silent breath out as the engines sprang to life, the effect of the disruptor now gone.
Distance on his range finder spun down as he approached the station. In the distance, he saw the Ma'al nose up and fly above Freeport 11. Then he came in close enough to see the lights of weapons fire, and 2 Nomad Keepers darting about in the maelstrom.
Suddenly his head tingled, and he could feel something strange. He could feel them out there. It was strange, the fighters before hadn't caused this, so why now? A yacht dashed overhead, firing it's turrets in what proved a futile attempt to maim of scare off the alien craft. Freighters, Order and Zoner fighters, 2 Geb carriers, and a Zoner Juggernaut criss-crossed the space above Freeport 11. He locked target on the one registering as Keepers Ashern. Why or how the IFF system translated the emissions off of the ship into the individual call signs was unknown to him. Right this moment, he didn't have the luxury of thinking about it. He dove onto the nomad craft, firing his 5 Death's Hand MK Vs. Then he fired the Mini Razor. All they met was empty space. Suddenly Ashern was gone, and another Nomad craft was before him. He switched back to lasers and opened fire. His shots impacted, and his head rang in pain. He dove away before the craft could turn to fire on him.
'What was that?' he thought to himself.
***....Harm....***
His head shot up. A moment later he felt the sensation of the motion. He felt sluggish, and found he was in a continuous starboard turn. He killed his thrust and reoriented toward the battle. Another Keeper was incoming. This one felt familiar. But why would that be? He stared at it, confused, feeling suddenly frightened, but also curious. Then pain shot through his mind again. He couldn't make sense of it.
***....Pain....Confusion....***
That wasn't him, was it? No, it was. The Nomads were intent to harm. They had no reason to be confused, he did. 'Am I sensing my own echo off of them now? What's happening to me?'
Suddenly the new Keeper turned toward him and opened fire. His shields were gone instantly, and the next shot nearly hulled his fighter. He punched the thruster and slammed the stick down and right all on instinct. Suddenly they were all on him. They could sense him...he couldn't read their feelings anymore. All there was was frantic want to survive filling his mind.
He banked hard right, feathered his throttle, killed thrust for just a half second, than punched to full thruster speed and climbed. They followed. He dove, then feinted right, then left, then climbed and killed thrust, then turned hard and dove. They were in front of him. They'd read his moves?
Sirens wailed as pressure leaked from his hold, and his cockpit cracked under Nomad energy weapons fire.
***....Sorrow....***
That was his echo again. Sorrow. Sorrow that they wanted him to die so badly. Sorrow that they could not understand each other. Sorrow that he was about to die alone and afraid and confused. He punched the throttle and dove through their formation, flipping the switches to deploy his remaining nano bots and shield batteries. A harsh bleet from his console froze his heart for a moment. 'Reserves depleted.' He dove for the Juggernaut and the Ma'al. They were his only hope. He juked side to side, up and down. He turned, veered, banked, and he did it blind. His shield came back up. He bounced off the shield of the yacht as he turned blindly into it and bounced off it's underbelly. His shield went back down. His breath was frantic, he couldn't think. Shots went wide of his ship. Then fire erupted. "Noooo!" His ship's automated ejection circuit activated, and his cockpit blasted away from his ship.
He woke on a shuttle.
"He's stable for now. We need to get him down to Toledo."
"His brain waves are off the chart, but they're fluctuating madly. I don't know what to make of it."
"Pull up his records."
He suddenly shot up, struggling against the people around him. He was on a bed in a brightly lit room. What was this? Why did his head hurt? They tried to pin his wrists down. He continued to struggle, even after they'd succeeded.
"Hold him. I said hold him! Sedate him if you have to!" A far away pain in his neck. It seemed so distant, though it was right there. The world started to blur. "Why? Why does it hurt? What am I?!" He groaned, and his cries became quieter as his attempts to lash out and free himself from his confusion failed. His body went numb.
Agent Signas of the Order stood over the bed of a patient in the Toledo landing base medical unit. The person in the bed was male, looked to be in his late teens. His hair was white, skin was lightly tanned. His eyes were red, another quirk. But what bothered him was that his eyes were open, and they were blank. The monitor next to his bed displayed a flat blue line. It issued no tone, the silence was solemn enough.
The boy's chest rose, then fell. Steady beeps came from the display directly under the blue line. It was green, and showed the zig-zaging display of his heart beat.
"I'm sorry mister Signas, Jason's brain activity is still zero, no read. Sir, can I ask why you still come back every few hours to check on a young man who's suffered brain death?"
Signas turned to him. Signas was 6'2", over 200 pounds of conditioned soldier, and had an IQ of 166. The doctor before him knew this, and thus was promptly intimidated by the hard stare he was given.
"I'm here to make sure you keep the restorative chemicals pumping into that young man's brain, and to make sure he wakes up."
The doctor shrank a little. "My apologies sir. I guess I've gotten a little pessimistic over the last few years. We'll do everything we can of course." Signas sighed and looked back at Jason. "I know you will doctor. I don't mean to be abrasive. He's just special, and we need to keep him alive."
Signas ran a hand through his graying hair. Leygeist had been quite the find. Now all he had to do was keep the young man alive long enough to see what potential he had in unraveling the mysteries behind the Nomads.
Days had turned into weeks. Signas went over the scans again and again. Comm logs, weapons fire, everything.
He went down to the medical lab and took another scan of Jason's brain activity. No change. The image remained a cold ocean blue save for the brain stem that continued to feed nerve impulses to his internal organs. A chemical shunt had been inserted at the point where the brain stem and the rest of the cerebral tissues met. It fed chemical agents into his brain cavity and into the blood vessels that fed the various portions of the organ. The doctors had said 4 days ago that they should simply declare him brain dead. 2 injured operatives shared his blood and tissue type and needed organs. If he were to be allowed to die, they could harvest those precious bits of flesh and stand a better chance of saving those operatives.
Signas had refused. He was concerned about two things. As far as organs went, Jason's brain was the holy grail to him. The other thing he cared about was the boy's survival. It was his duty to keep him alive, and it was his fault he was in the state he was. In Signas' mind, Jason was a victim of the Order. Without training and proper handling, he couldn't be prepared for the danger. Because he'd failed to keep Jason under his wing, he'd not known the danger, and thus had been robbed of the choice to remain safe and far from the risk he'd taken. If he died, it was on the hands of Signas, not the Keepers.
The days grew long. Signas worked with the best minds he could bring together, all the while sending progress and cost reports to Admiral Kelt, the superior officer in charge of supervising both Jason and himself while he solved this crisis. Every day he bit back his frustration as he sent a simple "No progress."
Signas turned from the clean ward Leygeist still lay in to the researchers behind him. "Unusual is good. Nothing conventional has worked so far."
The two nodded. Signas wasn't allowed to know their names due to the fields they worked. The sections they belonged to were classified enough that it took him 3 days solid of paperwork and interviews just to meet them and be authorized to see their faces. One was Libertonain, a rather attractive brunette that reminded him of his sister-in-law's best friend. The other was a Kusari man in his late years. His eyes were covered by sight augmenting goggles at nearly all times, and his very sharp mustache tilted when the man made any overt facial expression. The woman spoke first.
"We think we should try a few of the chemical compounds we've drawn from the Nomad cerebral cores we've harvested. Leygeist's brain and neural pathways seem to conform even more to Nomad readings than they did before. At this point, he'd have to be currently or recently infested for us to get the readings we are now."
The old man piped up. His accent was heavy, and his voice was a little high. "It is possible that introducing Nomadic compounds into his cerebral cortex may trigger a bio-electrical reaction in his newly altered neural pathways. We could control the flow of the compounds with modified nano machines, just in case we need to stop or reverse the procedure."
Signas crossed his arms. Such a thing could be incredibly dangerous. Some Nomad chemical compounds were known to be lethal in even small doses. Not to mention the risk involved to security if Jason became infected of infested somehow by the ever increasing exposure to Nomad influence.
"....." He looked at the two. "Prepare for the operation. I'll set up the needed security and request authorization from Admiral Kelt." The two nodded and hurried off, speaking to each other in a mass of technical terms. Signas ran a thumb over the stubble on his chin. He internalized the sigh that formed in his chest, hoping this would work. Then he walked towards his small temporary office to speak to the Admiral.
Jason had been awake only for a few days before the alert came in. An attack group of Apocalypse vessels was en route to Toledo, and was being intercepted by an Order task force. They needed all available ships in space.
Jason quietly made his way from his quarters on board the Isis to his ship in the lower flight decks. Everything felt so...surreal. He felt disconnected, yet he moved with the fluidity and agility he'd come to expect from his body after his conditioning on FP11. Past the techs, past the guards, and into his fighter. He punched in his launch code and was out of the hangar in all of the bustle.
He brought his fighter in line amidst a small fleet of cruisers. They waited, and then Kelt's order came down. Engage the hostiles. Jason stuck with the capital ships until a Raven Talon swept by. He nosed over and followed it. As he lined up his shot, he realized his Mini Razor was primed, not his lasers. He calmly switched the cannon offline and brought up his lasers one by one, then activated his pulse turret as well. The ship was still ahead of him. He opened fire, but it was such a furious battle that his sensors had trouble locking onto the bogey.
He followed it in it's hard port turn through 3 rotations, then broke off and armed his Razor, firing into the aft section of a BHG capital vessel several times without being noticed. The commander was too busy with the bow being peppered with cruiser and battleship fire to notice a VHF.
The battle raged on; and Jason felt cut off from it all. He couldn't get his mind around the battle with the ruthless renegades. Soon it was over, and the ships were gone; retreating from the superior force. He formed up on the Admiral's bomber and returned to Isis.
That's when it happened. It all blurred together in his memory. Images, flashes, words. Two nomads had attacked. Now he was in the medical bay of the Isis, blind, and trying to sort it all out.
Signas stood staring into the medical ward. He was sick of this view. At least this time he was conscious though. After weeks of experimentation and testing, the operation to bring Leygeist back to the waking world was a success. It changed him again though, and this was more proof than any skeptic would need. A telepathic signal actually causing physical damage to the optic nerve. It was something they hadn't encountered yet. Hallucinations were one thing, and neurological problems had been recorded, but this was the first evidence of actual sensory damage.
"Agent Signas, we've already begun treatment for the optical and nerve damage. He's awake currently, and you can speak to him freely."
Signas nodded at the physician. He recognized the man, no surprise given how often Jason had been in the unit. He looked over towards the door and stepped inside.
"Signas." The agent stopped at the boy's voice, responding with a matter of fact tone. "Aren't you blind, son?" Jason seemed cool and professional. He knew Leygeist acted this way to others, but he shared a report with the young man that usually granted him more.
"I am. I can feel you." Signas suppressed a shiver. It was silly to think an empath who had worked with him for months wouldn't know how to sense him.
"How are you feeling Jason? I heard it was rough out there." He stood beside the bed and looked down at him. His irises were pink, and around the eye the tissue was blood red. He'd come in bleeding from the eyes and nose; it seemed some of the swelling hadn't dissipated yet.
"I'm alright now. It was overwhelming out there, but I'm back under control. I think I'll do better next time." Signas shook his head. Jason knew because he could hear the older soldier's neck scraping on his uniform collar. "What is it Signas?"
"You're being pulled Jason. There isn't going to be a next time."
"The LNS Tundra is alive. They showed it to me." Now Signas was silent. Jason felt he was stunned. The agent composed himself and continued. "What else Jason?"
"They showed me what their worlds look like. They showed me how wonderful it would be to be with them." Signas stepped back. This wasn't sounding good. Not good at all. "They showed me everything they could to make me go to them. They even implanted emotional suggestions into my brain, showing me how right and complete I would feel as I docked my fighter to the Tundra. They want me. Badly." Jason sat up and looked at his right hand. He clenched it into a fist he couldn't see, and his voice became thick with anger. "They tried to use my past against me, tried to make me see them as some replacement for the family I'll never see again. Like I would let them get me, make me forget my parents. And after they tried so hard to kill me. I won't. I'd never agree to that."
Signas breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment he thought something had really gotten to him; and it had. It just hadn't driven him in a direction that would be dangerous to himself or his fellow agents.
"So, they want you, the Tundra is still out there, trying to get you to go to it. Anything else?"
"Yeah, check the comm logs. They made a long range transmission. You should analyze it...." He put his palm over his face. "They really hate all of you. Defilers. But they accept me, would welcome me." He dropped his hand and looked right into Signas' eyes with his own blinded ones. Blood collected around the edges. The strain had reopened the minuscule wounds.
"Some Humans accept me, some don't. I'm not one of you anymore Signas. Some of you accept that I am something unique, and respect me. Others would use me, or hate me and kill me."
Finally Signas broke his silence. "Jason-" The young man cut him off. "They're no different though. I'm not one of them. Some of them would welcome me, others would use me. And still others would try to destroy me utterly, wipe every trace of my body, mind, and soul from the universe. They are no different from humans."
Signas stood, and was neither perplexed, nor fully comprehending of the revelation. Nomads just like humans? Some in the Order would scoff, a few might even call Jason unfit to wear the uniform, or even unfit to be human. It dawned on him at that moment that he might be right. Humans were petty and many were ruled by hate. Nomads were ruled by their hate. Both species, intolerant of difference. Unwilling to find a common ground in life; only willing to find common hatred unto death.
"What are you thinking Jason? I know you. There has to be more bubbling in your mind than a simple analysis of the past few hours." Jason laid back down. "Signas, we have to stop this. I know it's impossible, but we have to try to stop all this killing." Signas shook his head. "Nomads don't listen kid." Jason frowned. "It's not just Nomads. Us too. Rheinland and Liberty, Kusari and Bretonia, Crete and Malta, and that's before Gallia and their intentions and blood feuds are factored. Bloodshed of all stripes has to end. And I think it needs to start with us and the BHG." Signas stood abashed. "You're right kid, that is impossible."
Leygeist let out a sigh. "I know. But if we ever want the Nomads to believe we're the same and can communicate rather than kill each other, we have to prove we don't have to fight. Maybe then they will listen..." Signas frowned. Jason settled and seemed to be asleep. Signas was about to turn when he spoke again. "...Our options are clear. Either we find a way to stop war, here and now....or we finish the wars for good, and pray we can sail into a peaceful future on the blood of those we lost for that dream. Whether or not the Nomads become peaceful or not; we have to bury the hatchet, in the ground...or in the hearts of those who keep these bloody wars raging."
Signas had left, feeling somewhat hollow and ill at ease. Jason had never been like that before. There was a chilling clarity in his words, and a handful of truths he couldn't ignore; along with a handful of ideas that honestly made him feel stupid for not seeing them before. Yet still some bothered him to consider fact. He punched up a secure frequency with Fleet Command. "Get me Admiral Kelt. I have an update for him..."
