Void Psychic

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

But Kevy wasn't exactly human. No one was anymore. The psychic scream of one of her wingmates burned in her forehead like a white-hot bullet. It took every ounce of her will to keep her Chak's Organ, her third eye, from instinctively slamming shut. She could feel their pain and terror keenly, as they lost control at the moment of their death. But Kevy knew that shutting out the chaos of the battlefield for even a moment would almost certainly be a fatal mistake. She wrenched her focus back onto her surroundings just in time to sense two pellets tearing towards her at nearly 0.86 c. A sharp burst of telekinetic force was sufficient to disintegrate the first, its glittering remnants cascading harmlessly into the void.

The second pellet danced through the black, as it's puppeteer struggled to follow her desperate evasive maneuvers. She could clearly feel the tell-tale aura of shifting psychic force cloaking the small tungsten sphere, steadily closing the distance between them. Kevy glanced towards the edge of her vision, checking her speed in her helmet HUD: 0.68 c, 0.69 c. It was coming in too fast. At these speeds, the projectile carried billions of times the energy needed to skewer her pressure-suited form. As it approached, she focused her telekinetic might, directing her body through space in a series of hard right-angled turns. Despite pulling more than enough gees to liquefy any classical human, Kevy barely felt a thing. Her psychic influence encompassed her body in a uniform field of force, keeping her insides at rest relative to the rest of her. Quickly, the pellet readjusted course and continued to accelerate, her opponent desperate for the kill. For all the effort, Kevy had managed to buy just a scant few fractions of a second.

Letting out a breath held for too long, she took an instant to settle her mind. She spun on the spot, pirouetting like a dancer, trying to bring the pellet into clearer focus, even as it entered terminal distance. Spitting distance. A desperate psychic shield sprung up between them. Kevy felt an impact; a startlingly loud noise ricocheted around her helmet, setting her ears to ringing and blurring her vision. Disoriented, spinning, she drifted into the void.

Slowly, the sound of ringing was replaced with the tone of an alarm. Red letters flashed in front of her eyes. WARNING: PRESSURE SEAL COMPROMISED. Several large cracks spidered their way across Kevy's visor, pockmarked with tiny tungsten specs that had embedded themselves millimeters into the transparent ceramic as the pellet had disintegrated. She gave her limbs an experimental twitch. Everything seemed to still be working. But what of her attacker? Kevy braced for what was sure to be the fatal follow-up.

Nothing.

Perhaps they had diverted their attention to one of her remaining wingmates? Perhaps she was presumed dead? Regardless, asphyxiation would finish her soon enough if she didn't act fast. Kevy took a deep breath, trying to ignore the gentle breeze blowing past her face and out into the void. She calmed her mind and settled the thunder beating away inside her chest. She closed her eyes and began to imagine a bubble around her helmet, around her head. Not a bubble of water, but of air and mind; of void that matter dared not penetrate. Kevy opened her eyes. The breeze had stopped. The alarm had stopped. The red text had been replaced with flickering yellow letters that read HELMET INTEGRITY CRITICAL. Yet Kevy was calm. Kevy was safe.

Her visor was a lost cause though. She could barely see through it anymore. It was covered in microfractures that turned the bulk of the material foggy white. No matter, Kevy thought. I should be able to manage without it until I get back to the ship. With practiced ease, she reached around to the back of her neck and loosed the clasps that fastened the helmet to her suit. But just as she prepared to lift it clear of her head, an instant of terror gripped her mind. An ancient, primordial instinct left over from the days before humanity crafted for itself a way to master the universe. There was no reason to fear.

Kevy lifted the helmet free and let it float away into the void. As her eyes adjusted to the dark and the tiny pinpricks of stars began to fill her vision and wisps of her short auburn hair began to drift about her head, Kevy couldn't help but grin.

But the battle was not over yet. It was time to get back in the fight.