War. When I dreamed all I saw was war. Countless battles in the vast emptiness of space and on the harsh, rugged land. I saw gigantic dagger shaped ships go up against other, much smaller, ships in large-scale battles. I saw dogfights with weird X looking fighters versus fighters similar to H shaped ships. Stuff that only a sci-fi fan dreams about. Soldiers in pristine white armor battling on harsh and unforgiving worlds against a variety of different aliens some seemed near-human, and others not even remotely similar. I smelled their burnt flesh as lasers blasted their way through armor and clothes. I saw diseases that could wipe out the entire human race within a matter of days. Diseases that could turn anyone into a disgusting monster. I also saw the abuse of the non-humans. I saw thousands if not millions of aliens enslaved just for not being human. The lucky ones were treated as some second class citizen. I saw them work on a battle station the size of Earth's moon. A planet killer.
Then, I was standing on the bridge of a gun-metal ship. I stared out at a massive fleet as they bombarded a colorful planet. What were they shooting? 'Bombarding a major rebel base on an uninhabited planet' my mind answered me. Then, I heard someone call out a familiar name, and I turned around and the bridge had suddenly turned to what seems to be some sort of personal quarters. It was decorated with a variety of statues and paintings that looked to be of alien origin. At the back were what seemed to be a pair of large alien lizards. I wouldn't have liked to see them alive, but somehow I had? I felt myself walk to what I think is the bathroom. Then, I found myself staring into a pair of burning red eyes. I felt myself scream, but no sound emerged.
I woke up soon after
Dreams such as these had been plaguing me for the past two months ever since the locker. Whenever my eyes closed, I saw bloodshed. War was war, it never changed. You could change where war occurred and how you waged it, but it never went away. War was a natural part of life. Life revolved around warfare. Peace? Peace was a lie and a temporary truce until you could develop better weapons and tactics to overcome your enemies.
I was in a war. I warred against my mind as I tried pushing down these dreams- no not dreams. These were memories. I had come to this conclusion after a few weeks of sleepless nights and nightmares. My head was filled with the memories of the greatest admiral from a galaxy far far away, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I rubbed my forehead as I felt another headache start to form. This happened whenever I tried suppressing his memories.
Why were his memories in my head? Was this simply a figment of my imagination? Am I crazy? Of course I had more questions than I had answers with no one to ask. Dad wasn't exactly all there anymore. I had no one to rely on except myself, especially at school.
A quick step to the right managed to save me a bruise from one of Sophia's goons from some random sports team. They were rather unimaginative when it came to bullying me. Trying to bump into me so I can be slammed against a random locker? Now you get a bruise for your trouble. The hallways were full of students ready to go home. Winslow was ass, with a lowkey gang war going on between the ABB, Empire and Merchant wannabes. There was a stabbing yesterday in one of the restrooms judging by the screams down the hall from Mr. Gladly's class. Class had ended early that day after another teacher got stabbed after he tried breaking up the fight.
Hopefully it happened today again. I had one more class to go to, and I didnt want to be here any longer than I had to be. Wait a minute. I eyed a disheveled Merchant wannabe that was stumbling past me. His eyes are bloodshot and his hands are shaking slightly. He's high and not thinking straight. Most likely on his way to meet up with his friends.
I formed a smirk on my face as I eyed a few skinheads. A strategy that was often used throughout the world would be very useful here.
Manipulate your enemies into destroying each other. A suggestion here, a false accusation there. Yes this could work. Plus it would be good practice for the future.
Emma...Sophia...and what was her name again? Maddie? Whatever her name was, she wasn't important, not in the long run. I would make them suffer for what they did to me. Changing directions, I slowly started to follow the drug addict.
School was about to be very busy, and even if class wasn't canceled, I could always escape in the ensuing chaos. Teenagers were drawn to conflict. Whenever fights broke out, phones came out to record said fight.
Friday's were always fun.
The walk back home was very short since I decided to take the bus today. The Merchants based in Winslow weren't happy to hear that the football team's star player, who happened to be a skinhead, was talking shit about their drugs. They were like that for some reason. Insult them personally, they didn't care what you said. Insult their ability to get high and their product's lack of quality, now you've pissed them off. Come Monday, I doubt that the school will keep plastic knives in stock anymore.
One of my legs soon started shaking and I took a deep breath. I did what needed to be done. I-I couldn't go to that class. They were in there, and no amount of planning would have allowed me to come back out unscathed. Squeezing my leg, I hardened my gaze. At least no one innocent was caught in the crossfire. That would have made me feel even worse. I did what I had to do to survive. I could only depend on myself and Thrawn I guess. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. My headache was gone now. Looking back trying to supress Thrawn's memories was a bad decision on my part. All that did was cause me more pain.
I could do great things with Thrawn's help. I orchestrated that fight at Winslow, so what would happen if I tried it on a bigger scale? What if the Empire, ABB, and the Merchants destroyed each other in their fight for power? A fool's dream. Lung and Kaiser weren't the idiots that the PRT made them out to be.
No, a different plan would be needed to purge Brockton Bay of their filth. Thankfully, I had a genius in my head now. All I had to do was let loose and let the memories flow through me.
I felt the bus come to a stop. Hopefully the school didn't decide to call Dad to tell him about the fight. I wasn't in the mood to see anyone at the moment. Grabbing my backpack, I walked off the bus without giving the driver another glance.
If only I had a single Star Destroyer with me.
Dad's truck wasn't in the driveway which meant he wasn't home. Well duh! What else could that have meant? Skipping over the broken step that I should probably fix sometime in the future, I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching me, and I quickly walked inside.
Hopefully Dad wouldn't be here for a few hours if I was lucky. A quick stop by my room resulted in me throwing my backpack on my bed. I could always do my homework later. Dragging myself to the restroom, I splashed some water from the sink onto my face.
Sensing someone staring at me, I slowly raised my head to look at the mirror.
"Hello Taylor."
Glowing red eyes stared back at me, and I screamed.
I must have been going insane. Why? Sane people didn't see blue aliens with red eyes staring at them through their people and the memories of said alien in their head. Yeah, I must've hit my head or something. Maybe I got a contact high from being around those druggies. I'm not high. It would take more drugs to be able to hallucinate. Staring at the vision of Thrawn that was staring back, I slowly started backing away from the mirror.
"You are not going insane if that's what you are wondering." The Thrawn in the mirror said with a smirk that I had seen countless times in my dreams. He placed a finger on his chin. "Well, maybe a little. The line between genius and insanity are quite blurry, or so I have been told."
I look around the bathroom slowly. Was this a prank? Is the mirror some type of Tinker device that was made to prey upon the dreams of its victims? Was there a hidden camera somewhere in here? Shit, what if I was under the influence of some Master? I'm too coherent to be under the influence of a Master. Tinker devices are possible, but no known parahuman in Brockton Bay has such a specialty. Hm, what if Squealer made a mind-control truck? A possibility. The lack of a PRT presence in the area means no known parahuman presence. Parahumans could be anywhere.
"May I have your attention now that you are not plotting your escape?" The vision of Thrawn said with amusement clearly written on his face. I gave him a glance in response. "Wonderful."
"Who are you?" I took a step forward. Thrawn gave me a cold smile and pointed at me.
"I'm you. Well, I'm a figment of your imagination if you would like to be more precise." Thrawn said casually. "I'm the result of you trying to suppress our memories." Thrawn's memories, not mine.
"So you're saying that I'm hallucinating?" I frowned. What was happening to me! "Why are you in my head?!" I grabbed my head and closed my eyes shut.
"I'm saying that if Mr. Hebert walked in at this very moment, he will see you talking to a rather dirty mirror." Thrawn said calmly. I opened my eyes slowly to glare at him. "And I'm just a mental manifestation of the good Admiral's memories. Now that you are no longer attempting to push the memories out, your brain is working overtime to compensate for lost time."
"So I'm crazy…" I muttered as I sat on top of the toilet seat.
"I suppose so." Thrawn kept his ever faithful smirk etched onto his face. So now I had the memories of a genius admiral in my head along with a mental image of him. This was just...great. Triggering with the memories of a blue, male alien was always fun, said no one ever. I had read up on triggers soon after I got home from the hospital. Why couldn't I have triggered with something more obviously useful? Like Armsmaster or Alexandria. Thrawn's memories are just as useful as they result in me becoming a Thinker with all of his intellect and skill.
"W-What do you want from me?"
Thrawn shook his head, his glowing red eyes meeting mine. "Nothing in particular. As I said before, I am just a manifestation created from the memories of Grand Admiral Thrawn that are sitting in your head. In simpler terms, I am you."
A dry laugh escaped my mouth. "I'm not Thrawn."
"I never said that you were, though I am curious about one thing." Thrawn paused for a second. "What do you plan on doing?"
What did I want to do? If you had asked me a year or two ago, I could have easily answered that question. I wanted to be a hero like Alexandria. It was every kid's dream to become a hero, have your face plastered everywhere and to save the day. Now? Not anymore.
What did I have? I didn't have super strength or the ability to fly like Glory Girl. All I had was my mind.
"If you say that you plan on becoming a hero, I must say that I would be very disappointed in you." Thrawn cut me off as I opened my mouth to answer. "This world doesn't need anymore heroes does it? It's plain to see that the Protectorate and their affiliated teams have been rather inadequate. Horrors like the Slaughterhouse Nine roam around slaughtering towns, and even here in Brockton Bay. When was the last time Armsmaster caught a so-called 'villain' that successfully served their punishment? How many times has Hookwolf broken out of PRT custody? How many lives have been lost because of these heroes?"
That was all true. The news often showed reports of some criminals breaking out of their transport heading to the Birdcage.
"The world doesn't need anymore heroes." I said slowly. Sure I could dress up in some silly costume and beat the shit out of some random criminal, but what would be the end result? They would most likely head back to their old ways as soon as they could. One person couldn't make a difference. How many vigilantes died trying to make a difference by stopping crimes?
I have the memories of the greatest admiral from another galaxy. With a handful of ships, Thrawn brought the New Republic to its knees, only failing when he was assassinated at the Battle of Bilbringi. At the Battle of Atollon, Thrawn was on the verge of crushing the Rebellion when he received orders from Grand Moff Tarkin to capture the rebel leaders. I could reenacte his miracles and finally bring peace to Brockton Bay, to the world. Mom, would you be proud of the path I'm taking?
"What it needs is a conqueror."
The gangs, I will pull them apart, piece by piece.
Thrawn raised his arms slowly and started to clap sarcastically. Glaring at him only made me more annoyed.
"A conqueror to bring about a unified world? It sounds like quite the undertaking." Thrawn stopped clapping. "Many have tried to do the same before you, and failed due to unforeseen circumstances. Alexander the Great died while still in his prime. Caesar was assassinated soon after becoming dictator, and Napoleon had his Waterloo." Thrawn's eyes never softened. "And you have the Battle of Lothal." Thrawn and the Battle of Bilbringi went unsaid obviously. I still felt a pang of pain in my chest whenever I remembered that occasion. The meaning behind his statement was clear. There was no guarantee that I would be successful, or if I would even survive to see my work completed. Many 'geniuses' were cut down in their prime, and were now a single page in history.
"Well someone has to do it." I responded with my own eyes hardening. A better world at the cost of my own life? A better world for the other Taylor's that were out there who were just barely scraping by just like me? W-Would I be willing to do such a sacrifice? I didn't want to die, but this was the only path that I had. This needed to be done.
Thrawn nodded slowly in response. "You are aware that the path you are taking is the one filled with blood correct?"
How many people are going to die? How many children will lose their father or their mother? How many people will lose their friends and family? There was no going back once I took the first step. This needed to be done. The world didn't need anymore Kaiser's or Lung's to cause death and destruction just because they felt like it. Licking my dry lips, I met Thrawn's gaze with my own.
"Yes."
Dad arrived home soon after. Dinner was a simple affair, he decided that he wanted to cook today since I forgot to do it thanks to my conversation with the Thrawn in my head. Dad seemed a bit happier than usual, but I shook it off. He probably managed to get a few more jobs for the DWA. After setting up the table, I turned on the TV to see if there was anything interesting while he cooked.
Eventually, I landed on a nature documentary about the ocean. Aww, that's a cute fish. I formed a small smile on my face. He looked like he came out of an Earth Aleph movie. Suddenly, a disgusting creature with tentacles started creeping into view. I didn't notice that I had started breathing heavily. Biting my bottom lip so I wouldn't scream, I quickly changed the channel. I hated octopi and squids. There was nothing that you could do that could change my mind.
"Dinners ready!" Dad shouted from the kitchen. I hope it wasn't lasagna. I ate frozen lasagna that we got on sale for a week when the DWA was finally able to get a contract. Sitting down at the table, Dad placed a plate full of some weird looking chicken in front of me. "I used Grandpa's old recipe."
Grandpa must've been in the army judging by how disgusting it looked. Oh well, food was food I guess. Hopefully I won't get salmonella or something. There was a reason why Mom never let Dad in the kitchen after all.
"Thank you." I grabbed my fork and impaled a piece of chicken. We start eating with a familiar silence in between us. I was used to it by now. The chicken was alright, but it was a bit dry.
"So how was school?" Dad asked right on schedule. He always asked the same questions, so I always gave him the same answer.
"It was alright." I took another bite of chicken as I gave him a glance. Dad seems a bit happier than usual. It has been a long time since I have seen him this way. Did he meet someone new? Did he have a possible crush? I needed more information. "How was work?"
Dad paused in the middle of chewing. He wasn't expecting me to ask a question in response due to my previous behavior in the past. His cheeks started to redden a bit. He's blushing, has been talking to someone. Swallowing the food in his mouth, Dad lightly coughed into his fist. "Work was good today. I managed to get another job for the DWA. The PRT needed some extra muscle to repair some damages caused by their last fight with Lung. Apparently their previous contract was starting to charge them more." Dad has his shirt ironed. When was the last time he did that? Not since Mom died. He dressed to impress.
"Cool." I said absentmindedly. Did Dad dress up for his meeting with the PRT representative? That could be one of the outcomes.
Dad nodded along slowly and silence fell over us again. Dad opens his mouth to speak, but closes it seconds later. Doesn't know what to say.
"I heard that there was a fight at school today." Dad said casually. The school most likely called his office since that's the number he has listed in their paperwork. Doesn't know that I'm the one that instigated the fight which means that Winslow just chalked it up to the Merchants being Merchants and skinheads being skinheads. Well that was good.
"That's everyday Dad."
"Oh ok." Dad isn't paying attention to the conversation anymore. He's thinking about someone. Yeah, great talk Dad.
Man this chicken was dry.
I went to my room once we were done with dinner. Dad said he wanted to do the dishes today. This was really weird and not like him at all. Was he under the control of a Master? Squealer mind control truck was still a possibility. Maybe Armsmaster created a halberd that could master people. Tinkers are bullshit.
Staring at my notebook that was sitting on my desk, I opened it slowly. If my campaign was going to succeed, I needed to start planning. I'm a Thinker not a fighter. I didn't have the strength to fight off the entire Protectorate by myself just like Lung. I didn't have a private army of mercenaries armed with tinkertech like Coil. All I had was my mind.
I needed ways to dispose of enemy capes as well as their normal grunts. Nobody was invincible, it was just a matter of finding out their weaknesses and exploiting them. Pulling out my pen, I started to write in Cheunh, the official language of the Chiss Ascendancy. I didn't want anyone finding out my future notes.
'How to take over the world 101'