Majgen Ch 008
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Majgen Ch. 010 free porn video
—-=(A cosy room)=—-
Majgen was alone.
The room Ottearon Weissme had led her to was beautifully decorated, elaborate decorations were unusual in polymorphic passenger suites, but the designers hired by the Mentariata often strayed from what was usual. The combination of great amounts of money and requests for excellence often had such effects on designers at Majgen’s time.
This setting had been named ‘Cosy Comfort in Mellow Shades of Pink and Red’ by its designer. It was a suitable name.
Majgen did not notice the decorations, nor the artistically placed furniture. She did not pay heed to the colouring either. However, even without her attention the surroundings still affected her. The soft pleasant lighting and colours awoke old memories in her, memories of feeling safe. All memories she had that associated to such feelings were more than five years old, most of them were more than thirteen years old.
The memories were painful to her because safety and happiness were not parts of her current life.
She was not as unaware of the present as she would have liked to be, in Baglian’s somewhat cold and functional apartment it had been easy for her to distance herself from reality and he had let her do that, but in this cosy room designed for soul warming relaxation it was hard to remain distant and detached from everything.
Ottearon Weissme had scanned her mind thoroughly, his hands had felt warm against her ears. The memory of that disturbed her too, because it reminded her of her meetings with him when she had been new to the Mentariata.
‘I guess I loved him back then. Simply because he seemed to care a little bit about me,’ she thought to herself. She was uncomfortable with the notion of thinking coherently again.
‘I guess the break is over, I guess my mind didn’t crack, I guess my sorry excuse for a life will continue yet again.’
Tenth ranked Student Majgen Rahan was alone in the cosy room, Ottearon Weissme had left after scanning her. He had instructed her to seat herself in one of the comfortable chairs, before leaving he had also placed a large bottle of water as well as a glass in front of her on a small table.
‘I guess I will get thirsty eventually,’ she thought, ‘Did he do something in my mind to keep me sane? I guess going crazy is not a refuge I would ever be allowed to run to.’
—-=(A Talk)=—-
‘Student Majgen is still mentally sound,’ Ottearon Weissme explained, ‘I don’t know where she finds the strength to retain her warm personality, but she is still the caring girl I remember from so long ago. In spite of the hardships she has been through I think she will become an exceptional woman in time.’
‘She is not a child, Ottearon,’ Femaron Baglian stated.
Weissme turned his eyes to Baglian, somewhat annoyed, his comment had primarily been meant for Syvaron Delk, his long time friend and confidant.
‘I am perfectly aware of Student Majgen Rahan’s age, Femaron.’ There was a chill to Weissme’s tone when he addressed the Femaron, he had no warm feelings towards the man he had used in an attempt to solve the Majgen-problem. Weissme leaned back in his chair and raised his hands to his brows, rubbing them while getting control of his emotions.
‘It’s not Femaron Baglian’s fault that our plans failed, not his fault that we underestimated his analytical abilities regarding matters of politics,’ Weissme chided himself.
‘Her childhood ended long ago,’ Weissme said, hanging on to his decision to speak openly in spite of Baglian’s presence, ‘but she has not had opportunity to mature to adulthood either.’
‘What are your plans for her now, Ottearon Weissme?’ Baglian asked.
‘I will make her my personal student now, Femaron, something I should have done long ago.’
‘You intend to bring her back to the Mentariata, Ottearon?’ Baglian’s disapproval of such a possibility was clear in his emanations, but not in his tone.
‘No. At least not for longer periods at a time, in the last several years I’ve attended many duties off Mentariata grounds, I do not spend much time at the school nowadays, so neither will she.’ Weissme felt old, he missed the relative simplicity of his duties in the years just prior to the day Majgen had entered his life.
‘Rico, I feel tired, would you fetch me some mocca please?’ At Ottearon Weissme’s request Syvaron Rico Delk rose from his seat.
‘Certainly Antwoine. Would you care for some mocca too, Femaron Baglian?’
‘Yes mocca would be nice, Syvaron Delk.’
‘I think I remember how you like your mocca, Femaron, not that I haven’t tried my best to forget. I still get nervous every time I need to add sugar to a dark hot drink,’ Delk’s last statement brought a short glint of humour to Weissme’s face. Delk had hoped to draw a small laugh out of his friend, he knew how burdened the Ottearon was by feelings of guilt and had hoped to give the man at least a few seconds reprieve from those emotions.
Rico Delk walked the few paces to the drink cabinet and began heating water to brew the desired beverages.
‘Your dislike for sugar as sweetener in mocca has become quite legendary in certain circuits, Femaron,’ Ottearon Weissme informed Baglian.
‘Actually, Ottearon, I am unable to taste the difference between sugar and other sweeteners in mocca. In fact I quite often use white sugar instead of sweetener, for the extra energy,’ Baglian admitted and didn’t twitch a muscle when Syvaron Delk, who was distracted by his words, accidentally knocked several clean drink glasses into the sink at the cabinet causing a brief racket of noise.
‘Grief!’ Syvaron Delk exclaimed and started lifting the glasses out of the sink one by one.
‘Are you injured Rico?’ Weissme asked with a soft laugh.
‘Only my pride, only my pride. Twenty years is too little time to spend away from ones former personal teacher. I wonder who is more embarrassed that I still can’t seem to make mocca without accidents, him or me.’ Delk’s words caused genuine laughter to bubble out of Weissme. While still laughing Weissme turned his attention back to Femaron Baglian.
‘I have come across statements that you dislike sugar severely, Femaron. From a source I normally consider quite reliable.’
‘I assume you are referring to Syvaron Delk, Ottearon?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Actually I never claimed to him that I don’t like sugar, rather I reminded him that I had told him to use sweetener, Ottearon.’
‘Reminded!?’ Delk exclaimed with exaggerated astonishment, doing his best to increase the humorous impact of Baglian’s disclosure. Most humans understood the rejuvenating effects of laughter.
‘Every student is different, to some a word is a sufficient reminder, others need stronger enticement to be able to remember, Syvaron Delk,’ Baglian said dispassionately.
Both Weissme and Delk had mind shields up, Baglian had his own up too, but he still understood the duality of Delk’s comments. He was sure that Delk’s primary motivation, for these referrals to the past, was to take the Ottearon’s mind off his worries for a moment. Baglian also felt certain that the Syvaron would consider a chance to ridicule his old mentor to be an extra bonus, however that aspect didn’t bother Femaron Baglian.
Syvaron Delk had reached the highest obtainable rank for his potential only five years after he had left Baglian’s custody. The Femaron knew that he had done a good job in training Delk. Whether or not Delk approved of the treatment he had received from Baglian, while he had been his student, was inessential to Femaron Baglian.
‘You must have considered me to be near retarded, Femaron, for me to be in need of such strong reminders.’
‘Not retarded, Syvaron, rather the word would be sloppy,’ Baglian said, ‘you were highly talented and intelligent.’
‘Oh?’ Syvaron Delk was surprised at the praise, back when he had been Baglian’s s
tudent, the Femaron had never paid him a single compliment.
‘You were nearly twenty years old when you obtained Etaron rank, Syvaron Delk,’ Baglian continued, ‘normally that is a fine age to become Etaron, but a man with your abilities could have obtained graduation several years sooner. However, you were an ill-motivated and sloppy student.’
‘Ill-motivated and sloppy are not traits I would ever apply to Syvaron Delk, Femaron Baglian,’ Weissme said in defence of his friend, his opinion of Baglian declined with what he considered to be poor assessment on the Femaron’s part.
‘Of course not, I cured him of those traits within the first half year of his training under me,’ Baglian stated matter of factly.
Ottearon Weissme studied the Femaron and the Syvaron in turn, he had never before wondered why Delk had been able to reach Syvaron rank at such an exceptionally young age, in spite of not having been unusually young at his graduation.
The three mentarions were quiet some moments while Delk finished brewing mocca and brought the full cups back.
Ottearon Antwoine Weissme was the first to break the silence.
‘Majgen will most likely break out of her near shock condition within few days, if she hasn’t already. However, I fear she will develop a depression within days. I don’t know how to add even a hint of happiness or hope to her life.’
‘She has developed a sense of duty over the last month,’ Baglian said, ‘she is quite capable of functioning under emotional pressure, you should still be able to train her while she is depressed.’
‘There is more to life than duty, Femaron Baglian,’ Weissme snapped. He was not fond of the arrogant Femaron.
‘Indeed, but what good will that do her right now?’ Baglian retorted.
‘I want her to have a full life, Femaron, not force her into a life long existence as a semi-slave.’ There was venom in the Ottearon’s voice, a not well hidden accusation aimed at Baglian’s priorities.
‘Did you have that sentiment in mind when you chose to obstruct the natural development of her sexuality, Ottearon Weissme?’ Baglian asked, the ice in his voice matched Weissme’s venom. The rage those words woke in Weissme, was unmistakably evident in the Ottearon’s emanations, a mentarion with less courage than Baglian would have started apologising in a grovelling manner upon sensing such feelings in a higher ranking mentarion. Baglian, however, simply ceased talking and took a fresh sip of his mocca.
‘And what thoughts have you had regarding me obstructing Student Majgen’s sexuality?’ Weissme asked.
‘Until now your part in the matter was only a suspicion, Ottearon,’ Baglian said and continued to answer the question, ‘Even when scanning for causality in retrospect it was evident that Student Majgen’s sexuality was primed at a late age. To me it seemed it must have been even clearer back when she was in her early teens.’
‘You condemn the decision I made back then, Femaron?’
‘I am not sure I would have done the same, but I am not sure I wouldn’t have either.’ Baglian took another sip of his mocca and continued, ‘My point, however, was not to state whether or not it was the right decision. My point was that I am not the one who has taken the harshest decisions regarding Student Majgen’s well-being. She may have the right to judge me for how I weigh right and wrong in regards to duty and more humane morals. You, however, do not, Ottearon Weissme.’
Syvaron Delk admired Femaron Baglian’s bravery, he had never heard any mentarion speak to an Ottearon in that manner, but he did not appreciate the moral berating his friend was receiving from the arrogant Femaron.
‘Antwoine suffers too much from his own feelings of guilt already, he really shouldn’t be burdened further by accusations from others. Especially not Baglian.’ As Delk feared Weissme’s rage quickly subsided to be replaced with feelings of fatigue and guilt.
‘So how are things with her obstructed sexuality these days, Femaron Baglian?’ There were no signs of hope for good news in Weissme’s voice.
‘As you probably know the priming was complete before she became my student, Ottearon.’
Weissme nodded a tired affirmative to those words, and Baglian continued, ‘As far as I could tell in a retrospective manner, her sexuality would most likely have developed into a versatile maybe even balanced pattern, if she had been allowed to mature in those areas without intervention.’
Again Weissme offered a dreary nod.
‘Yes, that description fits what we were informed back then,’ Syvaron Delk said, his intention was not simply to confirm Baglian’s words, rather his words had the purpose of reminding Antwoine Weissme, his old friend, that he was not alone in carrying the guilt.
‘Well, you probably already know that the priming of her sexuality did not follow that road.’
‘It was foreseeable,’ Syvaron Delk said sooner than his friend could make another desolate nod. Baglian nodded, however, in response to the Syvaron’s words.
‘She is aware of what her sexuality has become, but she lives in denial of this fact. Student Majgen cannot accept the nature of it,’ Baglian elaborated. He put his cup on the table and leaned back. ‘Considering what she has been through, I can’t blame her for her sexual prejudices. The girl is actually quite a prude in regard to everything sexual.’
The last sentence caught Weissme’s attention.
‘Everything you say? Not just her own sexuality?’ he asked.
‘Practically everything,’ Baglian confirmed. Weissme leaned forward a small hope was rising in him.
‘How set are her prejudices against sexuality in general?’
‘They are as un-based as the biases often held by non-empathic teenagers in such regards,’ Baglian said understanding what line of thought Weissme was chasing.
‘So there is still hope that she will come to terms with it?’ Weissme inquired.
‘Yes.’ Femaron Baglian gave the Ottearon a moment to enjoy the positive knowledge before continuing, he was not blind to the man’s hardships.
‘Another aspect is of course that she suffers from a fourth degree Brakwan syndrome.’
‘Yes, we were aware of that before she was assigned to you,’ Syvaron Delk said, Ottearon Weissme was rubbing his brows again his distress visible in more than just his emanations.
Delk continued, ‘We are also aware that without our intervention she would have been very unlikely to develop that syndrome.’
‘We were also aware that there was a high risk of her developing permanent Brakwan, Holzten or Yio syndromes, if we went through with the pleasure chamber prescription plan, before we did it,’ Weissme added with evident self-loathing.
‘Yes, that would have been foreseeable too,’ Baglian thought, but kept that sentiment to himself, instead he said:
‘If she was legally of age right now, she would most likely order chemical neutering from a physician, as you know that would be ill-advised for her mental health, since the Brakwan syndrome is an emotional trait and not a physical disturbance.’
‘Emotional but fully integrated in her personality, impossible to remove therapeutically without causing severe mental damage,’ Weissme added, ‘It was the wrong choice, I should have let her spend some years on grane instead. What does a few years matter in comparison to a lifetime?’
Baglian and Delk remained quiet, they both understood Weissme didn’t want an answer to that question.
In reality Weissme remembered exactly why he hadn’t waited a few years. Back when the problems with Majgen’s sexual emanations had grown completely out of control, the yijejo had increased their aggression in the war.
‘We need her in the war effort, she is the only empath who can obtain real information through a raised mind shield. Evil grief, we need her abilities and we need them as soon as possible. I would do the exact same thing again if I had to.’ Weissme didn’t use this kno
wledge to fight his feelings of self-loathing, he was not prepared to surrender fully to his cynical side.
The three mentarions drank their mocca in silence a while. However, there was still more to be said. Ottearon Weissme was the one who finally broke the silence.
‘Femaron Baglian, I arranged a delay for your admission to governmental security programs prior to delivering Student Majgen to your charge. I can inform you that you passed all tests perfectly and would have been approved by now if the process had not been haltered on purpose by me and my allies.’ Ottearon Weissme monitored Baglian’s emanations for strong emotions while talking, he expected Baglian to resent the fact that his career had been actively slowed.
Baglian nodded dispassionately, he considered educating Majgen a more important task than any he could have been assigned to – if he had been upgraded to a higher level of governmental security.
‘Now that the situation has changed, I will of course no longer slow the progress of your career in that area, Femaron,’ Weissme explained, ‘on the contrary I will prompt the GED to speed up the bureaucratic process in that regard, I will also recommend that they put you up for further upgrades immediately. Actually I was hoping that you would spend some time at the Mentariata while such matters are settled, Femaron Baglian.’
‘That is a gracious offer, Ottearon Weissme, I am honoured to accept it.’ None of the three mentarions mentioned why such a vacation would be advisable, nor did they speak of the Ottearon’s motives to aid Baglian’s career in the area of governmental security. To all three of them it was obvious that Baglian’s knowledge of the Majgen-situation had to be kept secret and it was also obvious to all of them that Femaron was not a sufficiently high rank to prevent the knowledge from seeping in a random mind-scan.
Most Mentarions were at risk of being exposed to mind-scans by curious higher ranking mentarions, two things could protect a mentarion from such occurrences. One was to be of so high rank that meeting a higher ranked mentarion was unlikely. The other way to avoid such curiosity was to get GED-confidentiality markings on ones uniform, the mind of a mentarion with such markings was as protected as a file with similar markings.
‘Student Majgen will also need a certain security status, I will recommend the GED to give her confidentiality markings based on inadvertently gained knowledge. It is about time I inform the proper authorities of her special abilities, while doing that it will be easy for me to explain that she cannot avoid gaining confidential information from me. I have held high security clearance for many years.’
As in Baglian’s case, Ottearon Weissme automatically declined to mention the other reason Majgen needed confidentially markings, namely that the political knowledge she now held – of her own situation – could not be allowed to become public.
—-=(Weissme’s privacy)=—-
‘Take a full bowl of soup, Student,’ Weissme ordered, ‘a half is not enough to last till lunch.’
Majgen rose wordlessly and went to the can of soup to fill her bowl to the rim. The depression Weissme had foreseen had hit her more than three months earlier, after only one month as the Ottearon’s personal student. The depressive state was having a severe effect on her appetite. For the last two months Majgen had eaten less than half of what she normally did, she was losing weight.
This morning Weissme had decided to no longer allow her to decide for herself how much she ate. The same way he had ten weeks ago decided, she would no longer get to choose how often, or rather how rarely, she should shower. He had also decreed to her precisely how many times a day she had to brush her hair and when to do so too.
Femaron Baglian had been right, however, Student Majgen was trainable in spite of the concentration- and focus-obstructing condition. Weissme had expected his student to be severely handicapped by a depression, and she was, but her comprehensive abilities were nowhere near as affected as he had thought they would be.
Charlize
- 23.07.2021
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