2017-08-19: The Boy From Earth's Trial
- Cutscene: The Boy From Earth's Trial
- Cast: Claude C. Kenny
- Where: Guardian Temple
- Date: 19 August 2017
- Summary: The Guardians of Filgaia judge a boy from Earth, and find him wanting.
"My! My! Oh me oh my! You are very far from home, Boy from Earth!"
Rigdobrite's words send a chill running up Claude C. Kenny's spine. Two of his five companions know the truth of his story already, but he can feel the eyes of the others - the Sword Priestess in particular - upon him. Easy lies die on his lips. Questions will be asked, and answers demanded. But for now, the Guardians' offer promises a reprieve. Claude takes it gladly, stepping forward for the Ark Scepter; his fingers touch it, and the world
v
a
n
i
s
h
e
s
Claude C. Kenny falls to his hands and knees in hot, black sand, gasping for air as his guts settle back into place. Teleport, his mind reports. And a fast one - no time spent buffering the transition, just a hard shove along an unseen axis in spacetime. He looks up, trying to orient himself. One instant he was in the Temple of the Guardians, the next--
Milokeenia.
And it's true, Claude realizes as he pushes himself to his feet. The world he visited on his first away mission. And not just the world, but the very site itself -- a dome made of an unknown metal, dark as midnight but warm to the touch. He'd found the control that opened the doors to the dome. And inside, he'd found---
Not your first folly. Definitely not your last. Your greatest? Perhaps.
Claude turns in search of his accuser, and finds the scene has shifted again - the dome's interior, and the ancient xenotechnology within. A device that looked like a cryostasis pod, but wasn't. A device that sensed the presence of a humanoid lifeform and executed its programming, sending him to an unknown destination. To Filgaia. Just his--
Bad luck, Boy from Earth! Chapapanga titters. Bad luck to find yourself so far from home!
"It was!" Claude shouts. "What would you call it when a million-year-old teleporter drops you on Cow Patty Planet for no damn reason?"
Is that how you remember it?
The scene shifts again, and phantom images coalesce, as if out of the haze. A trio of Federation science officers, a pair of security officers. And a boy and his father.
"Don't be careless, Claude," says the father, his tone stern. "Wait till we figure out what that thing is before you go near it."
"Don't worry," the boy says. "It's nothing special. I'll be fine."
"Stop, don't go any closer! We don't know what that device is capable of," the science officer adds.
"Get back here! Stay away from that thing, Claude!" the father barks.
The boy scoffs, shaking his head. "How are we supposed to accomplish anything if you're going to be that scared?" he asks. "Look, there's no danger at all."
A beeping noise, then a series of chirps. An electronic voice echoes out. "Coordinates... 214.. 368... 9778... 1. Opening gate."
The device shudders, and a pinkish-purple tears opens up in the fabric of the world. It swallows the boy and slams closed.
Reckless.
Claude looks up, his face reddening. "Shut up!" he yells. "Like I don't know what happened!"
So you disobeyed your superior officer. And you refuse to take ownership of your folly.
"Give me a break!" Claude shouts, throwing his hands in the air. "How was I supposed to know? He's /always/ been like this - holding my hand, treating me like a child! Using his position to make things easier for me, to sweep away obstacles. I wouldn't even have been on that damned mission if he hadn't pulled rank and put me on his ship!" The young man's hands ball into fists. "I'm tired of it! I want /nothing/ to do with him!"
Unless it suits you.
"I..." Claude sputters, looking around. "What?"
The outline of a Guardian steps forward out of the shadows, moving in front of Claude, looming over him. You believe your father used his position and fame to your benefit. You believe others did the same without his knowing. In an attempt to curry favour. But you did not refuse these benefits. Your marks. Your contacts. Your graduation. Even your position on your father's ship. You refused none. Because it suited you to reap the benefits... but complain about the unfairness. The figure's head tilts, as if searching for the appropriate expression. To have your cake and eat it too.
Claude's mouth opens and closes silently, his eyes wide and staring.
And you continued to do so on this world. If you were any other soldier... The figure chuckles. To question an officer of his rank? With decades more experience? To disobey his orders on three occasions? If you were any other soldier... what would the consequences be?
Claude drops to his knees. "I didn't... I don't..."
You do. And if you deny it, Boy from Earth, then I ask you: why is it that here on Filgaia, on one of the only worlds among the stars where you could be anything and anyone you chose, to stand on your own two feet... The Guardian leans forward. Even here, where the name 'Kenny' means nothing... why do you cling to it so?
Claude bites down hard on his lower lip, feeling the faint tang of blood in his mouth. It's about all that keeps him from weeping.
You are a reckless, foolhardy child, clinging to resentment over your inadequacies instead of seeking your own strength. The Guardian straightens, turns, and begins to walk away. And still... somehow... you are the best we have.
Bad luck, Boy from Earth! Chapapanga laughs as the world goes white. Bad luck, bad luck!