Lifestyle Change (Short Story)

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Fluffy clouds went on forever; shifting and morphing as they blew through the sky. I always liked watching them.

"Back when life was normal, the smallest things were enjoyable." Feri Cardu spoke with his eyes closed. He was able to conjure up visions of his homeworld, but the visions got distorted and melted away abruptly, turning from serene views to horrific scenes of the sky on fire. He could even hear the crackle as the clouds burned away; like a clap of thunder that went on forever, only to shrink to nothing as the clouds disintegrated. Then the images flashed to more horrible ones.

"Tell me, what can you see?" The therapist, Mr. Warders asked.

Feri opened his eyes and stared at the man in silence. The therapist was an Arok male, in his middle years. With green skin and fleshy growths on his head, and his face was framed by fine dark, yet greying hairs.

He couldn't think of a way to put the images into words, and shook his head as a response to the man's question. "I saw your face contort, what did you see?" The therapist persisted.

"Nothin' I'd like to talk about." "That's okay, take your time, we don't have to dig too deep so soon. We can go at a pace that makes you feel comfortable." Mr. Warders replied, resting his hands flat on his desk as he finished.

Feri turned to look out the window, which took up two walls of the office. Beyond it, showed the inner city of Jex. The buildings stretched on forever, freshly build, so new that entering one might give you a blast of tampered Oridium steel and chemicals. Between the buildings were countless transport ships, large and small, going to and fro.

"Digging deep. I don't know if there is much good to come from that, if I'm brutely honest. Some people like that stuff, and can do it well, but some things are better left in the past." Feri said, while looking back at the therapist to gage his reaction to being told his career wasn't that important. He didn't react. He just took in a deep breath and nodded. "I get that, I understand that sentiment. I've heard it before off people with a lot more layers than you, and who've gone through much greater hardship."

Feri laughed at that. It wasn't one for joy, it was more so irritation that caused it. "Greater hardships than me? You don't know much, Mr. Warders." He felt his blood boil while he spoke, the itch covering his chest, back, and shoulders. He wanted to jump up, reach over the desk, and grab the Arok by his puny throat and wildly shake until his neck snapped.

"How have your anger problems been?" "What's that supposed to mean?" Feri asked. "I mean what I said, how have they been? Do you feel you have control over your outbursts?"

"Mostly." Feri nodded. "Yeah, I think, well, I don't know. I don't get so angry when something happens." He continued.

"Getting to the root of the issue is important, regardless of how big or small it may be. Now, I can appreciate how hard it is for some people to tear down their walls. You see, our brains create barriers that helps to keep particularly traumatic experiences under wraps; as a way of defending itself. These thoughts, memories, and experiences all get buried in our subconscious mind. While there, they still exist. Do you have nightmares? Waking up in panicked fevers?" "Yeah, I have. Not that often though." Feri lied. To that Mr. Warders just stared at him. "Okay, it happens more often than I would like. But, what do dreams and nightmares have to do with it? Everyone gets them." He continued, his hands shaking slightly, which he settled by folding his arms.

"Everything. Let's imagine a spaceship heading from one planet to another. A jump lane opens, and the ship uses that to travel at speeds impossible before the lane opened. In this analogy, each planet is your waking mind; your conscious mind. The jump lane is your sleeping mind; your subconscious. You need sleep to wake up, as a ship needs a jump lane to travel, you wouldn't say that a jump lane isn't reality, would you?" Feri shook his head. "Anything that happens to your ship while in a jump lane will affect it, upon arrival."

Feri stood up and started to pace the room briskly. "This is a waste of time, what am I even doing here? Talking about ships and space travel?!" Gritting his teeth, concentrating on the patterns of the carpet. "I've done things that would make you squirm in your seat. Pre-war, and post-war." He looked at the therapist, who calmly leaned back in his chair.

"I'm not at liberty to speak about some of the people I've helped, and some of the things that I've heard. But, I can assure you, there is barely anything that would make me 'squirm in my seat.' Now please, take the time you need and sit back down. Remember the exercise we discussed?"

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The pacing paused after a moment. Then he took in a deep and solid breath, through his nose, and exhaled out through his mouth. Closing his eyes to the room, to the world, and to the therapist. An image flickered across his eyelids, a calm plain; the fields of his hometown, a better time, a time from his youth. He was so busy focusing on the image that he didn't notice that he was still taking in deep breaths.

"I just feel like I'm beyond help. I think maybe I'd be better off continuing my work for Noro Nocto. I'm a good enforcer, that's what I know, that's what I do best. There's no point trying to change my ways this late into my life."

"Tell me a story." Mr. Warders asked. "What story? About my past?" Feri asked, calmly taking his seat once more.

"No, not of your past, of your present day. You weren't forced to come here, you willingly came to these meetings. So, there's a part of you that wants these sessions to work; a part of you that wants a new life." Feri buried his head in his hands, only to wildly scratch his head, to relieve himself of the itch that grew and bubbled under the surface of his skin. "Yes! I do, I want it to work."

"Has it worked? Tell me about a recent incident, one where you were in a situation that could have gone wrong for you if you didn't stop yourself from reacting."

Feri took another deep breath, he wasn't able to pinpoint one. Then it dawned on him. "Well, recently. I was in my speeder, going about my business and some idiot clipped me. I followed them. I wanted to kill them, I imagined biting their throat out and listening to them beg through gargles. Finally, they came to a halt, parked up, I got out. You should have seen me, I walked up to their speeder, ready to grab them out of it and chuck them from the tallest building I could find. But, then I saw him; some dithery old human. I took a deep breath, and explained the situation. They apologised and offered to pay for the repairs. I ended up leaving it, and told them to be more careful in future."

"Very good." A few bleeps came from Mr. Warders datapad. "Okay, that seems to be the session." He said while standing up and walking to the door.

"It will take time, but slowly we'll unravel these issues and get to the bottom of it all. You may not notice drastic changes straight away, and it may even get worse before it gets better, but the more you push yourself to open up and the more honest you are - with me and yourself - the better things will get. I will see you next week."

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Back home, Feri took some time to himself, settling down for the night after having some food. Then, there was knocking at his front door,. Feeling tempted to ignore it, the knocking persisted. After letting out a sigh, he went to answer it.

It was a friend of his, if you could call it that. A Trisken, who also works for Noro Nocto, and probably one of the closest people to Feri of his other 'colleagues' who he was actively distancing himself from.

"Feri, can I come in? We need to talk." Stepping aside, Ullan N'Guri walked past him.

He wore the typical mix mash of light battle armor, black leather, with odd pads attached by brown straps. His jaw-cap remained closed, which acted as a natural piece of face armour. It lowered to reveal his mouth. The majority of the scales of his face were burnt and damaged.

"What's this about?" Ullan just leaned back against the couch in the living room. "It's about work. Nocto wants you back." Feri shook his head. "I can't go back, I need to start looking after myself and that's what I'm doing, for the first time in my whole life."

Ullan shook his head. "I was hoping that this little phase of yours would have ended by now." "It's not a phase." Ullan nodded to that. "Clearly."

"Look, Nocto is in a bad way, he's been losing it over the last few days. A few of the others dropped out when you did." Feri scoffed at that. "Never saw myself as a trendsetter." Ullan wasn't impressed by the joke.

"Yeah, funny. You won't be laughing for long though, Nocto got it into his head that you're setting up your own operation, and doing so along with the dropouts. It's pretty serious, Feri." Shocked by the statement, he wasn't sure what to say. "I'm not, I'm seeing a therapist, and putting all that stuff behind me. I want to get out of that lifestyle and do better things."

"Better things? What? Get a job at Berezo Enterprise? Is that the life you want? Come back, put this behind you, and think about it. Nocto has been expanding, preparing for war by the seems of it." Feri hadn't thought about what he would do to earn money, hadn't wondered about the new life he was looking for.

"Look, take some time, relax, go on holiday. Take some joy and go to a pleasure den, anything. But think about your future, and come back. These new recruits aren't worth their own weight, Nocto needs real soldiers, not pups dressed up in a warrior's skin."

Ullan walked past Feri and out the door. Leaving him alone with his thoughts about his future, and what kind he wanted.

The opportunities were slim for someone with no experience in anything other than killing and maiming people.

There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind though, that a clear head is worth being poor for.