Ghosts of the Past
Chapter One
"Don't matter if it's the Confederacy or the Dominion: they're all the same. They squeeze and punch and kick you into a shape they can mould and then wipe it all and start again. You're just a machine to them. They use you, baby, use you up until there's nothing left."
- Gabriel Tosh, rouge Ghost
Ghosts have been credited as having many fantastical powers. Most people knew that they were all psionic, as in, possessing the ability to control the world around them with only their thoughts. Some people knew that ghosts were able to cloak themselves and turn invisible, provided they had enough energy. Few people knew that ghosts were cybernetically enhanced to have better vision, stronger bones, and fewer emotions.
There were, however, only a handful, and a small handful at that, people that were aware of one particular Ghost's abilities. One of these people was named Arcturus Mengsk. Mengsk was the leader of a rebel terrorist group named the 'Sons of Korhal'. He became fed up with the Terran Confederacy, which was corrupt, and fought back by luring the Zerg, a species hell bent on assimilating all life in the Universe, to the Confederate capital of Tarsonis. In doing so, he single-handedly killed billions of people with his actions.
Mengsk rose from the ashes and created a new empire: the Terran Dominion, with him as it's Emperor. Despite all claims to the contrary, the Dominion was just as corrupt as the old Confederacy. One of Mengsk's first orders as Emperor was to kill over half of the Confederate Ghost's in a massacre that would later be called 'The Purge'. Many Ghosts went into hiding or made their livings as mercenaries and assassins for hire.
One Ghost in particular didn't need to avoid Mengsk. He didn't care who he fought, or who he fought for, as long as he was being used. When Mengsk relocated the Terran capital to Korhal, the Ghost was already there and waiting. After a speech, the Ghost approached the newly crowned emperor with a gun to his head and offered him a deal: I let you live, and you let me continue doing my job.
Emperor Mengsk had loved the audacity of the young Ghost, for it reminded him of his younger self. Re-establishing the Ghost program, he sent the Ghost across the stars as his personal grim reaper. The Ghost had a knack for remaining unseen and he quickly became Mengsk's favourite weapon. In response to his Ghost's accomplishments and loyalty, he allowed the Ghost to customize his equipment as he saw fit, as long as it didn't reduce his combat capabilities.
The Ghost was not vain. He didn't add visual flair to his suit, nor did he paint it a different colour. He added practical things: an EMP shockwave emitter, easily fireable from his rifle. He amplified his suit's psionic feedback receivers, allowing him to stay cloaked indefinitely. The Ghost modified his bullets to allow for greater penetration on lightly armoured targets, with no reduction in other statistics.
The Ghost's tools were enough to cause jealousy amongst the more standard variant, which prompted Mengsk to mass produce the suits with the EMP shots and penetrator bullets. He refrained from adding the enhanced psionic receivers to the majority of the Ghosts, only giving it to members who had proven themselves capable many times over. The Ghosts were once again the most feared specialists in the Terran arsenal.
After a successful assassination, the Ghost was instructed to receive his orders by Mengsk personally. The Ghost was rarely in direct contact with the Emperor, which was a direct result of Mengsk's paranoia.
The Ghost arrived at Arcturus' private quarters at the designated time. The Emperor was seated behind his desk, waiting.
"My dear Ghost. You are my most proficient assassin, having successfully eliminated every target that you've been asked too. I have a special mission for you, and only you. I want you to kill Jim Raynor. He's been a thorn in my side for far too long, and he's recently come out of hiding. There's a Wraith waiting for you at the dock. The pilot will brief you on the details. Get to it."
The Ghost made himself invisible and said, "Hell. It's about time."
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The Ghost jumped out of the hovering Wraith, and landed on all fours on the dusty ground before straightening. The pilot made good time getting him to Mar Sara.
Mengsk's orders spoke in his mind. I have a special mission for you, and only you.
The Ghost loaded an electromagnetic pulse round into his trusty rifle, aimed briefly, then shot the Wraith just as it was preparing for takeoff. Without power, the ship feel from the sky and crashed into a nearby sand dune.
The Ghost calmly walked over to the smoking wreckage and shot the pilot in the head, not taking any chances. No witnesses. He then zoomed in with his visor on the building he'd been informed about: Joeyray's Bar, a small cantina where Raynor was said to be drinking his worries away. Holstering his sniper rifle, he engaged his cloaking and set off at a steady pace towards it.
Upon arriving, the Ghost was not amused at what he saw. The Zerg had returned. After four years of relative peace and quiet, the Zerg were back. That meant the formidable psionic warriors that were the Protoss were sure to follow. Despite himself, a small smile appeared on his lips.
War is coming, he thought. With all its glory... and all its horror.
The Zerg would make his job interesting. They always attacked in massive waves. They relied on sheer numbers to overrun the enemy. If Raynor was in fact here, he would be leading the defence against the Zerg menace.
Maybe the Zerg are a mixed blessing after all, he thought, as they would force Raynor to take charge, giving the Ghost the opportunity he needed.
Cloaked and silent, the Ghost silently made his way towards the only command center in the pitifully small base. Avoiding the mineral mining SCV's, he snuck into command center's entrance. The Ghost crept along the steel corridors with practiced stealth. Thankfully for him, all command centers were built more or less the same, allowing him to find the control room with ease. Upon locating the correct room, the Ghost stopped for a second and wondered at the door.
Why is the door unlocked? Does he trust his men that much? Mengsk would never do that. He doesn't trust anybody. A small smile appeared on the Ghost's lips. Not to say that I blame him.
Continuing forward, the Ghost slipped through the door and entered the control room. No matter how many times he'd seen it, it always took his breath away.
There were four large screens displaying the hectic chaos outside. He watched as Raynor, for it had be him, control his small but deadly militia against the onslaught of the Zerg. He had set up a defensive perimeter of bunkers and missile turrets, which were the only things that could withstand wave after wave of Zerg forces.
The Ghost slowly walked closer, watching Raynor manage his small base with practiced movements and commands. The Ghost was amazed at how easily Raynor commanded his troops. They all followed his orders unquestioningly.
Reaching for his gun, the Ghost did something he never had before. He second guessed his orders.
Those men would die for him, he realized.
They would die for the man I was sent to kill.
The Ghost realized this, along with another fact. If Raynor wasn't defending against the Zerg, how would he escape?
This is a suicide mission, thought the Ghost idly.
He knew he should follow his orders, regardless if he approved of them or not, but dying for Mengsk was not something he would do. Mengsk didn't command his loyalty. The Ghost had worked for Mengsk for no reason other than having something to do.
Here I am, holding a man's fate, who has won the undying loyalty of his followers, all because of some other man, who has no such loyalty, is afraid of him.
The Ghost made a choice. He disobeyed his orders.
Uncloaking, the Ghost tapped the floor with the tip of his gun, making a clanking noise. A startled Raynor spun out of the command seat, unholstered his sidearm, and pointed it at the Ghost, all in one fluid movement.
"Drop the gun," said Raynor in a flat tone.
"I can't. It's attached to the back of my suit," said the Ghost in his chilling tone.
Raynor stared at the Ghost for a few seconds before asking, "So. Have you come to kill me?"
The Ghost chuckled at Raynor's bluntness. "That was the plan, yes. I, however, had second thoughts."
Raynor's eyes lit up in realization. "You. Mengsk sent you to kill me. From all the information we gathered about Mengsk's pet Ghost, we didn't think you had any freedom of choice. I've been waiting for you to show up."
The ghost of a smile appeared behind his visor. "I have free will. I chose not to end your life. I chose to disobey Mengsk's orders. I choose to have this conversation."
Raynor frowned in thought. "Why?" he asked.
"Why? Such as simple question, with such difficult answers. Let's just say that I...admired the loyalty that you inspired in your men. Mengsk does not have the loyalty that you have. I am a perfect example of that."
Raynor said nothing, but the Ghost could see his mind racing.
"I suggest going back to your command now. I watched you before I revealed myself. You are a brilliant commander. Let no one tell you differently." The Ghost paused before asking a question. "Do you want my assistance?"
Frowning again, Raynor asked, "Why should I trust you?"
The Ghost flickered and disappeared. "Because I trusted you."
Realizing that the Ghost could kill him if he wanted to, Raynor put his revolver back in its holster and took command of the base once again.
He quickly checked the status of his marines. They were all loaded up in bunkers, firing away at the hordes of zerglings, hydralisks and roaches that continually pressured the front line. He checked the counter that displayed how long it would take for his evacuation to arrive. 8:21. 8:20. 8:19.
Another eight minutes, thought Raynor. I hope we can hold.
It was then that Raynor noticed what appeared to be a marine standing in the center of the base, doing nothing.
Suddenly angry, Raynor selected the lone soldier and shouted, "What are you doing marine!? We need all the firepower we can get to hold off the Zerg! Get your ass to a bunker!"
A cold voice answered with a low chuckle. "Is that how you treat your specialists?"
Realization flooded Raynor. "You? What are you doing?"
"Somebody called for an exterminator, but I don't know where the bugs are. Command me."
Raynor couldn't help but grin at the Ghost's metaphor. He told the Ghost to reinforce the East bridge, as a large group of zerglings and hydralisks were heading in that direction.
Zerglings were dog-sized creatures that attacked by gouging anything and everything they saw that was within melee range, save for other Zerg. They were weak individually, but this weakness was overruled by the sheer amount of them. Hydralisks, on the other hand, were over two meter tall serpent-like creatures that attacked by launching volleys of deadly spines at their enemies from afar.
The Ghost went to work, quickly shredding through the hydralisk's light carapaces as the marine-filled bunkers went to work on the zerglings. Having successfully repelled the attack, Raynor instructed the Ghost to deal with a flock of mutalisks attempting to bust down the few missile turrets that were in place.
The mutalisks were a large airborne breed of Zerg, looking roughly like a prawn with two large, leathery wings as their means of propulsion. They attacked by spewing another creature, nicknamed a 'Glave Wurm' on their enemies from their oversized 'mouths'. However terrifying the creatures were, they were still lightly armoured and if the Ghost was good at killing one type of unit, it was light units. The Ghost's modified rounds quickly chewed through the mutalisks, spilling their acidic blood on other Zerg units below them.
Everything appeared to be going swimmingly until the ground started to erupt with huge, worm-like Zerg that were seemingly being used as a transport system by smaller Zerg creatures. The worms began puking out zerglings and a new, heavily armoured strain that was protected by a sturdy carapace, similar to a turtle. It moved fairly slowly, but any marines unlucky enough to be close to them had acidic bile spewed on them, disintegrating them into a pile of goo in seconds. The Ghost struggled with these abominations, having no armour-piercing weapon on hand.
Improvising, the Ghost, cloaked as he was, managed to procure several blast charges from his deceased allies. The Ghost placed as many blast charges as he could on the new strains of Zerg before retreating to a safe distance and detonating them. The charges were designed to cut through several feet of solid steel. The armoured carapace of the resilient strain were no match. With the new Zerg taken care of, the marines quickly mulched the transport worms into paste. The new strain of Zerg would later be dubbed 'roaches' due to their resilience.
The Terrans almost assuredly survived because of the rogue Ghost. He killed hundreds of Zerg ground units and flyers and was the last one to be lifted off during the evacuation. Raynor was pleased with his work, and agreed to keep his existence a secret from the rest of his crew aboard the Hyperion, aside from Matt Horner, his second in command. Raynor used the Ghost as a scout and infiltrator, rather than just an assassin. He had saved many of the Raider's lives without them knowing it. He liked to keep it that way.
Raynor knew how it felt to fight for a cause bigger than himself. He respected the Ghost's wishes to be an unknown, even though he knew his crew would welcome the renegade with open arms. The Raider's had started rumours about a mysterious entity watching over them. Raynor hid a smile whenever he heard his crew members talked about zerglings mysteriously dying before they were about to eviscerate them, or mutalisks falling from the sky with their wings torn and their skulls broken. Regardless of what they thought, he knew who to thank.
After only a few weeks, Raynor had re-established the Raider's as a powerful fighting force. They had defeated Protoss, Zerg, and other Terrans decisively in a series of battles with varying objectives.
After just returning from another successful mission, Raynor sent the Ghost to a fledgling colony in a remote part of Terran occupied space which was commandeered by a 'friend of his' . The Tal'Darim, a fanatical Protoss cult obsessed with Xel'Naga artefacts, were harassing the colony and the Ghost was sent to put a stop to it. The Ghost found himself aboard a medivac dropship, flying towards the command center of the colony. Unaccustomed to any lengths of inactivity, the Ghost's mind started to wander, specifically about his kind.
Ghost.
It was a name, a title, a job, all conveniently wrapped up in one word.
Ghost.
The very word brought fear into the hearts of Terrans, made the tidal wave of teeth and spines that was the Zerg pause in indecision. Even in the ranks of the mighty Protoss, the word caused unrest and wariness.
Ghost.
We were the assassins, the specialists of whoever gave our commands. We would not stop...could not stop, until the job was done... or we perished.
Ghost.
We feel no mercy. We feel no regret. We fear no enemy.
"Ghost!"
The Ghost snapped out of his reverie and was aware of his surroundings once again.
"Yes?"
The medivac pilot rolled her eyes in exhaustion. To her, all Ghosts were the same: pretentious, overconfident, psychotic Terrans in fancy suits.
"We've arrived at the destination, sir. Now, if you wouldn't mind getting off your ass, I have a group of marines who need medical assistance ASAP," said the pilot in an annoyed tone.
To her annoyance, the Ghost didn't respond. She got out of her chair and was about to give him a piece of her mind when she noticed something.
The ghost was gone. She didn't notice, but he had left as soon as she said, "We've arrived".
Shrugging and returning to her pilot's chair, she pulled down a microphone from her headset.
"All aboard the flying heal bus!" she said into the microphone, which in turn broadcasted it outside.
Marines I can deal with. But Ghosts? They're just plain creepy, thought the pilot.
The Ghost walked straight towards the orbital command, only changing his path to avoid collisions with any meandering marauders, massive bipedal suits of grenade launching armour, or any mining SCVs, which were Terrans in a general purpose construction vehicle. The SCVs were a core component to a successful base: only they could harvest the minerals and vespene gas needed to create the materials for war. They were also the only Terran units that were able to create the buildings that produced the varying weapons in the Terran arsenal.
The ground was hard packed enough that his footsteps caused no dust to rise. He approached the entrance to the building and noticed a single marine guarding the entrance. He approached quietly from behind and gently pulled out his combat knife and casually pressed it against the marine's throat, who happened to have his visor open.
"Dead," said the Ghost.
The marine didn't move, as he was paralyzed with fear. Removing the knife and decloaking, the Ghost turned the marine around and said, "If I were you, I'd advise your commander to put at least two marines on guard at the entrance. That way, one of you would die, but at least the other would get a warning out."
Nodding in fear, the guard regained his senses and led him inside the orbital command. The Ghost neglected to mention that he could have gotten there quicker by himself. As he arrived at the control room, he was waved in by another marine. The Ghost walked in observed his new commander.
He was young. Very young. Still, he had an air of professionalism around him, and he wasted no time on pleasantries, which the Ghost admired.
"You'll be glad to know that I've doubled the security, like you suggested. I'm gracious that you didn't kill the marine out of principle, but I would've understood if you did. Now, to business."
The young commander told the Ghost of his plan to cripple the Protoss colony's psi grid. He somehow had access to a nuclear missile, which made the Ghost feel warm and fuzzy inside. It had been months since he'd been allowed to designate one of them. It just so happened that the Protoss had placed all their pylons in a small area, probably to reduce clutter in their base of operations, and the Ghost was going to take advantage of that. While the Ghost was scouting the base and designating the launch location, the commander would send a medium sized bio force to get the Protoss out of position.
The Ghost left the base as quickly as he could, making no noise and not telling anyone where he was going or what he was doing, not that they could see him while he was cloaked. The Ghost ran at a steady pace that he could keep up all day. He figured that he wouldn't be detected, as long as he was cloaked. The Ghost did not notice the invisible Observer keeping track of his presence. The Observer was a Protoss drone that was cloaked and could also detect cloaked units.
The Ghost arrived half an hour later at the bottom of the ramp which supposedly led into the Protoss base.
Strange, he thought. I haven't seen a single patrolling Stalker.
He cautiously walked up the ramp and saw nothing. Nothing. Not a single building, unit, or flyer. This confused the Ghost greatly.
Did they send me to the wrong base? The thought was quickly discarded. Raynor wouldn't have sent him to work with a incompetent.
Curious the Ghost cautiously walked towards what should have been the heart of the Protoss base. He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his vision. He stopped at observed his surroundings more carefully. Next to a patch of minerals where there should have been majestic Protoss structures and probes mining away, there was only a slight haze, like heat distortion.
Suddenly wary, the Ghost turned around and looked around him more carefully. Sure enough, all around him was a collection of faint shimmers. The Ghost slowly approached a larger cloud of haze, and to his surprise, walked straight into the side of a building.
Oh shit, thought the Ghost. Protoss can cloak everything now, even without an Arbiter.
The Ghost was about to call off the attack when the largest Protoss air vessel he'd ever seen slowly floated over his location. It was at least twice the size of the already massive Carrier and was roughly triangular in shape. The Ghost wondered why the vessel wasn't cloaked like the rest of the base, and then it hit him. This is what's causing the cloaking. They repurposed the Arbiter's cloaking field to also include buildings and they put it in this behemoth.
The Ghost opened up his communications link to the commander.
"We've got a problem. There's a large, unidentified Protoss air vessel that has the ability to cloak units and buildings. I suggest a tactical retreat and the immediate production of Vikings to counter it."
The commander's voice sounded tinny when he responded. "Viking production has been started and-" the commander cut out for a few seconds. "The strike force has been compromised! I need you to get over there ASAP and provide fire support to buy time for evac!"
Already sprinting towards the location, the Ghost replied, "Got it."
When the Ghost arrived, the battle was not going well. The marine and marauder force was getting slowly picked off by the nimble Stalkers, fast, four-legged robotic shells that housed the remains of fallen Protoss warriors, who controlled the machine with their minds. While the stalkers were shooting their deadly lasers from afar, the furious Zealots, Protoss infantry that could hack and slash through almost anything with their Psi-Blades, were decimating the Terran infantry force up close.
The Ghost launched several EMPs into the Protoss forces, draining their shields and effectively cutting their protection in half. The Ghost found a small hill to use as cover. He may be invisible, but stray bullets and grenades from his allies were just as deadly to him as to the Protoss.
He started picking off any Zealots who came close enough to swing their Psi-Blades. After the majority of the Zealots were vaporized or incapacitated, he slowly went to work on the Stalkers. Being armoured, the Ghost had to aim very carefully to make any sort of damage. He targeted the joints between limbs, causing the mechanical shells that were the Stalkers to spill their blue blood. Thanks to the Ghost, the battle slowly turned to the Terran's favour.
Rallying towards victory, the marines and marauders ran forward to cut off any escape route for the remaining Protoss. The Ghost, seeing this, left his sniping position and followed the army from a safe distance. The Ghost was satisfied with the results of the previous battle. He was about to tell the commander to order the ground army to retreat before they overextended themselves, but before he could, the massive ship that he'd spotted earlier appeared and started to move towards their position.
The Ghost had a bad feeling that the Protoss had laid a trap that they had waltzed right in to. Turning his communication link back on again, the Ghost tried to get a hold of the base, but heard only static on the other side. Looking back towards the main army, he noticed that they had stopped as well. They were all staring at the massive ship in the sky. One of the marines he'd been following had lagged behind the main army, and he was close enough that the Ghost could him panicking.
"We are so fucking screwed. We're dead men walking. We might as well keel over and die."
The ship was practically above them, and the Ghost could see a massive energy core in the heart of the construct. The core was glowing, evidently in preparation for some destructive ability.
Knowing he had one chance, the Ghost loaded an EMP round and took careful aim. He couldn't help utter a cheesy one liner that he'd been working on.
He stood beside the marine and said, "They called in the thunder..."
He shot the EMP directly at the ship's core, in an effort to overload it.
"Now reap the whirlwind!" finished the Ghost.
The EMP was just about to hit the core when the Ghost felt a most peculiar sensation. He felt like he was being slowly disintegrated and sucked into a vacuum. His last sight before his reality was ripped away was of the EMP hitting the ship, causing it to power down and crash towards the fleeing Protoss army. His last thought was: it was worth it.
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The Ghost woke up lying on soft ground. He opened his eyes and saw a beautiful starlit night sky, alongside number diagnostics of his condition and location.
'Error 375: Location not supported'
'Condition Stable: Heart rate optimal, psionic powers undiminished'
The Ghost slowly stood up and surveyed his surroundings. It was pitch black out, but that didn't hinder the Ghost. Even without his visor, his cybernetically enhanced eyes had perfect night vision. He found himself in a large clearing, with trees on all sides.
The Ghost didn't recognize the place. The last thing he remembered was being torn apart, piece by piece by the massive Protoss warship. A small smile appeared when he thought of it falling down onto the Protoss ground forces. The smile was quickly replaced with the bored look that the Ghost normally wore. Not that anyone could actually see his face.
The Ghost ran ideas through his head on what had happened. The Protoss must have been designing and building new weapons of war just as quickly as us Terrans have. They now have a massive capital ship that can cloak entire bases and vortex whole armies.
The ghost did a mental double take on what he had just thought. Of course! The Protoss must have developed a way to create a temporary wormhole to suck entire armies to their doom. The energy to accomplish such a feat must be incredible. Of course, that's why the ship is practically a giant core.
The Ghost looked around some more, making sure nothing was sneaking up on him. How did I get here? The vortex must have dropped me onto this world. If that's the case, there might be other Terran's here that survived.
Glad to have a plan of action, the Ghost enabled his cloaking and started to head north. He hadn't been jogging for more than five minutes when he spotted a structure in another clearing. The fact that it wasn't alive immediately discounted the Zerg. He scanned over it and realized that neither Terrans nor Protoss could have built it as it was made of wood that was nearly a hundred years old, according to his visor.
A feeling of apprehension slowly filled the Ghost. There was another sentient alien species on the planet he was on, and he may be the first Terran to be in contact with them.
Strengthening his resolve, the Ghost made his way towards the structure's supposed front entrance. There was a short flight of stairs leading up to the door, which was also made of wood. The Ghost carefully tested the door and found it to be unlocked. Silently, he opened the door, entered, and closed the door behind him.
Now inside, the Ghost activated the thermal view on his visor. He immediately saw three heat sources, one on the second floor and two on the ground level. Picking the lone source, the Ghost quietly stalked up the stairs towards his prey. He approached the room that held the heat source. He reached for the doorknob, and silently opened the door.
The Ghost slowly entered the room and stood silently observing the specimen curled up on the bed. The specimen in question was quite small, and featured four legs connected to the torso. It was an orangey colour, and it's "hair" on top of its head was blonde. The Ghost had never seen a creature like this before. He wondered how evolution had led these creatures to become the dominant species on this planet.
Wondering about evolution, the Ghost briefly thought to where Terrans had originated from. The Ghost knew that Terrans originated from a planet called 'Earth' which was controlled by the U.E.D., or the United Earth Directorate. For some reason that he couldn't fathom, the Ghost had a sneaking suspicion that these creatures were related to a species on Earth. He also wondered how he was going to communicate with the creature.
The Ghost was slowly approaching the creature, debating on a course of action. When he came within a short distance, he felt a small twinge in his temple. That only meant one thing: someone with psionic abilities was nearby. He'd learned long ago to trust the twinge, as it had saved his life may times when he fought for the Confederacy. Standing stalk still, the Ghost waited for the fellow Psion to show themselves.
The Ghost waited ten minutes for someone to give some inkling that they were there as well. Feeling a bit miffed, the Ghost quietly left the room and went back downstairs to search. Finding nothing, the Ghost cautiously went back into the room with the sleeping creature in it. As soon as he walked through the door and approached the creature, he felt the slight twinge again.
These creatures are Psions? thought the Ghost.
He double checked his theory by exiting the door, then entering it again. Twinge.
Strange, thought the Ghost. These creatures must be very weak Psions if I can only feel them from ten feet away. Still, with any luck, I can communicate directly in its mind, even if it has weak psionic tendencies.
Bracing himself, the Ghost slowly reached his mind towards the sleeping creatures. Normally, he would have had to do the mental equivalent of "knock" before he could communicate with another Ghost or Terran, but the creature had no mental barriers at all. It was eerie to the Ghost, like the creature didn't know that it was psionic.
Pushing further out with his mind, the Ghost "saw" the dream that the sleeper was having. He saw many other different coloured creatures, more or less the same as her, talking, laughing, and generally having a good time with each other. Inwardly sighing, the Ghost did the mental equivalent of tapping someone on the shoulder, which caused the dream to dissipate and the sleeper to fully concentrate its mind on the Ghost, even though it was still sleeping. The Ghost wasted no time on explaining what he did or who he was.
"Can you understand me?"
The Ghost could feel the creature's confusion as to what had happened. "Yes Ah can, but what just happened?"
The Ghost was glad that minds could communicate even if they spoke different languages.
"Good. Now I want you to be calm, and to wake up."
"How am I s'posed to do that? This is a dream, ain't it?"
"I'll wake you up. Just be calm when you do."
The Ghost severed the telepathic connection and walked closer to the bed. He reached over and gently shook its right shoulder. The creature awoke instantly and sat up, rubbing its large eyes with its front hooves.
"What a strange dream," said the creature in perfectly understandable English, albeit with what the Ghost thought of as a "country" accent.
You're joking, thought the Ghost.
Still cloaked as he was, the Ghost said quietly, "Please do not be alarmed. That was no dream, and I require your assistance."
The creature was surprised at the voice coming from nowhere. "W-where are you? What are you? Show yourself!"
This is too strange, thought the Ghost.
"I'm in the room, but I'm currently invisible. I didn't want to shock you when you woke up. I think I will refrain from revealing myself until you are calm and controlled."
The Ghost saw the creature breathe deeply and calmly to control itself. "Okay. Ah'm calm now. Show yourself."
Bracing himself for the creatures reaction, the Ghost decloaked himself.
The creature was staring at him in pure, abject terror. "What are you?" it managed to say.
The Ghost smiled mirthlessly underneath his helmet.
"A Ghost."