#(I do like the turret panel though. I really really like it. can you tell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raggedbreathwhump · 2 years ago

Text

Whumpfic: The Hunt (Part 1)

Setting/fandom: Generic futuristic spy-fi.

Content warnings: Torture, PTSD, brainwashing, implied noncon, suicidal thoughts

Relationships: M/M

Total word count: 9906

Rating: T

Summary:

When Zack's cell door is inexplicably unlocked, he makes a run for it.

He has plenty of time to regret that, later.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You shouldn't have done that, prisoner."

The voice comes out of nowhere and Zack jumps, heart in his throat. It takes him a moment to pinpoint the source – a panel of speakers up by the ceiling, something innocuous made for announcements. He swallows, tries to calm his racing heart and slips into the next room, navigating through this corporate maze. Almost every room seems outfitted with an announcement panel. The voice, growling with every syllable, follows him like a shark.

"That trick was cute, the booby trap on the door. Took me out, fair and square. But you didn't get far, did you? I can tell you're nearby. Don't worry, I'm going to be with you every step of the way now. Until we're in the same room."

Zack tries to tune it out. This is just a cheap demoralizing tactic. Even if the whole thing was a setup, he has a real opportunity here. If he sticks with it, he might get out. He might.

"You even took away my gun. Like I said: cute. Did you really think that one through? I already got a replacement, and let me promise you one thing, prisoner: No matter what you do, I'm going to use it."

He slips down the corridor. The room has at least three speaker panels and the voice is all around him, a tangible presence in his ear. If his heart was racing before, it's pounding painfully now, the gut-deep fear threatening to overwhelm his senses. He forces it down, recalls the entirety of his training – keep his mind cool, search for openings, wait for the opportunity, then move, with boldness and decisiveness.

The corridor is empty. It might have felt reassuring, but really, it just strikes him as the deserted death maze it really is. An arena to play cat and mouse in. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself at that thought. Keep moving. The next door, the next room – he peeks inside. There is a turret, facing away from the door, towards the other end of the room, Still no people. He steps inside, hugging the wall and ducking behind cover out of habit.

"Or maybe you thought it would... what, delay me? The extra minute or so I would have to spend to go out of my way to secure a replacement gun. That could be the difference between life and death, is that right, prisoner?

Wrong.

Listen closely. I'll let you in on a little secret."

Damn that voice. He can still hear Diego in it – his old partner, his old lover – but there is nothing he can recognize of the person he used to know. His lyrical taunts, waxing poetic about the mission at hand... Zack can remember that, still. But he's never had to hear it like this, with only the cold, vicious cadence of a hunter who can't wait to get his claws into him.

"You're here because of me." Diego's voice drops to a confidential whisper now, deep and gravelly. "That's right. It doesn't matter what you do, how much time you buy, how much of an edge you gain. None of it will matter. If you haven't figured it out already, this was all just a fun little exercise. A thrilling little chase for me. And a test for you, if you like. You failed, though. You fell for it hook, line and sinker. But I've been calling the shots from the beginning. I let you off with a head start. And I'm the one who made sure the entire area around us is on lockdown. You're not getting past that. And when I start to get bored... I'll start tightening the noose."

Zack's heart sinks. He begins to tremble, has to stop and lean back against the side of a desk for a moment to calm the queasiness inside him. He'd known, of course. He'd known it was a trap for a while now, and on some level, even before he'd set foot outside his cell. It was all just too convenient, but that was the training: leave no opportunity unseized.

Hearing it from him is something else, though.

The turret – he can slip past it if he's quick enough. Zack gathers his strength, disables it with a touch of his hand and the pulse generator built into his arm, then makes a mad dash for the door on the other side, slips through into another, bigger room. A conference room or something of the like.

"Couldn't wait to spring free, could you? I'm surprised at you, prisoner. I thought you had quite a cushy deal going on here. You work for us, and we keep you alive. But those terms just weren't good enough for you, were they?"

Zack takes it in with a practiced gaze. Two doors on the opposite end. Between here and there – furniture, several low tables with chairs, a powered-off projection screen, a decorative sculpture, and a fancy chessboard (likely just as decorative). He starts to move towards the doors, keeping close to cover.

"I'll tell you what... listen closely, prisoner-"

Zack freezes briefly, eyes wide as he hears the voice again – from the speaker panel, as expected, and a second, fainter source, from behind the door to the right. It's him. Fuck, it's him. He finds his wits in time to make a dive for the couch by the wall, the one that's facing most of the room, and hunkers down behind it. The door opens a split second later and a pair of footsteps in heavy boots enter the room.

"...because I'm only going to say this once. My superiors aren't too happy with you. Neither am I, you can imagine. After all, we had a deal too, didn’t we? I made you a promise, last time you tried to escape..."

Zack is frozen, pressed against the back of the couch. He doesn't dare peek past it. His body is screaming at him that he's about to get caught, overcome with an irrational conviction as solid as his bones that Diego will see him, smell him, can probably hear his thundering heartbeat right now all across the room. He tracks the heavy footsteps, his mind blank. He's been deployed on countless missions and found himself hiding behind cover, inches from an enemy, but never before has he felt such fear.

"Right now I have every inclination to make good on it, and I might not stop there. And after you're caught... well, who knows what the top dogs will do to you, when you're being so inconvenient. But I'll tell you what. You come out of hiding like a good boy right now and I might take it easy. Maybe put in a good word for you. Mistakes were made, but I'm not a monster, you know. What do you think?"

The footsteps are moving away now. Maybe it'll be okay – his mind jumbled, Zack realizes too late that maybe Diego doesn't expect to find him here, is failing to search behind cover as thoroughly as he might otherwise. After all, they do not know he can disable devices as easily as he can. They weren't expecting him to head this way, past the turret.

He can use this. Surely he can use this. If he can bring himself to move. Zack shuts his eyes, quietly takes a deep breath. His heart feels ready to burst out of his chest. His blood is pumping in his temples, something between nausea and a headache pounding in his head, and he feels achey and hollow and not quite attached to his own body. He has to snap out of it. Now. He needs to snap out of it.

"Are you here, little fox?" Diego says teasingly before sharply kicking open the door to the next room – the room Zack last came from. The turret! Fuck, if it's still disabled, if it hasn't completed its reboot...

Zack doesn't wait to finish that thought – Diego's back is turned and this is all the time he gets. He darts out from behind the couch and to the next scrap of cover. His heart sinks as he hears Diego hiss softly in realization.

"Interesting..."

The door – now! It's a straight line of open space between him and the exit, but he has to take it. Zack makes a mad dash for it, across the room, reaches it, pulls on the handle. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Diego's shape in the opposite doorway, turning towards him.

"There you are!"

Zack shoves the door open, all but falling through it. Inches behind him, plasma fire shatters the glass inlets of the door and a shower of glass shards peppers the ground. Zack scrambles into a sprint. Another hallway. He has maybe one, two seconds out of sight and out of earshot. He picks a door at random, closes it behind him, keeps running past desks and chairs, kicks one out of the way, curses himself, chooses another door at random and keeps running. If he had a grasp on where he was in this maze of office rooms and cubicles before, he's lost now.

Diego's boots thunder through the corridor he left behind.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Diego sounds pleased, and – dammit, he knows the voice is coming from the corridor, but the sound of it over the speakers diffuses it, makes it harder to pinpoint. Zack is standing in the next room, briefly frozen. The way he's facing looks familiar, but he doesn't think he's been here before. He snaps out of it and keeps moving. Spots a door with a fire escape sign on it. Filled with a strange, sudden sense of hope, he runs to it, slips inside. If he can get to another level...

The staircase is there, and he can spot another door several stories up. His legs aching and lungs already burning from the chase, Zack runs up the metallic grate steps as softly as he can. Up close, the door is solid, metallic, with a round 'submarine' style window in the top half, and another office area behind it.

It's locked.

Zack has a brief, hollow moment of wondering just how long it would take Diego to find him if he just... stops here. Stops running and waits for him. As he was told to. There is no way out, he can feel it in his bones no matter how hard he tries to delay the inevitable.

The boss would be disappointed. This wasn't how he was trained.

It's an odd thought, but it helps.

Zack tries and fails to put his back into it for a few seconds before giving up, gasping. He glances back down. He cannot hear or see Diego except through the announcement system, but backtracking feels equivalent to death. He looks back at the glass window. Double sheeting.

Zack grits his teeth and pulls off the top of his jumpsuit to wrap it around his elbow. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that.

He smashes through the glass. It takes him a couple of tries and sends glass shards flying everywhere, and painful jolts through his arm, but he can worry about that later. The noise of breaking glass is deafening. He somehow reaches through for the handle on the other side, grasping blindly. Miraculously, he feels a set of keys in the door. He has just enough leverage to turn it, with the tips of his fingers.

"I heard that, little fox." There are no speakers up here, and the area looks older, but he can still hear it from the level he just left. Like a spur, it jolts him into action. He needs to keep moving. There has to be an exit here somewhere.

Before Zack has taken even a dozen steps into the room, it becomes clear that coming here was a mistake. The area is essentially one large room full of cubicles. An exit to the left has been sealed off for construction. An exit to the right has been bricked up. An elevator door – but there is an old-timey grate gate in front of it, with the key nowhere to be found. A ventilation shaft by the ceiling looks promising, but is higher up than he can reach without moving furniture around. Not when he's already out of time.

Out of breath, Zack ducks behind a cubicle just as Diego bursts through the door.

The enforcer stops in the doorway and surveys the room. He takes a deep breath, sniffing the air. Melodramatic as always...

"I know you're in here."

He says it calmly, matter-of-fact, and it sends a chill down Zack's spine. He watches as much as he dares through a crack in the cubicle wall he's behind. A dead end. He's trapped with no way out, but if he plays it smart and keeps his head, waits until Diego has moved away from the door and circles around, then-

As if reading his thoughts, Diego looks around thoughtfully and grabs a large, heavy cabinet next to the door. He pulls on the sides, and Zack winces at the deafening noise as the metal legs drag over the rough concrete floor. Diego pulls and pushes it into place until the exit is securely barricaded.

Zack stares, cold resignation flickering through his heart. Well, that's it, then. He'll never move it quickly enough to slip out, not with that amount of noise... This was place was a death trap, and he blundered right in.

In soft bewilderment, he wonders if this has been the plan all along. If somehow, Diego had meant to herd him into this one area where he would finish him off... he couldn't have planned that, could he? This hadn't been the plan from the beginning. Zack had gotten farther than they had ever meant for him to get, of that much, he was sure. For all the good that did.

Diego continues his soft, cruel taunts as he begins to search in a circle through the large room, clearing a row of cubicles with every few steps. He's away from the exit now. Zack could try, if he's foolhardy enough to try till the last, but he knows a losing match when he sees one. There seems to be something pathetic about being shot in the back while scrambling to move some furniture out of the way.

Diego is not close to him now, but he will be. There is no escaping him. There is no point, no feasible way for him to make it out of this, no benefit he will gain by trying to drag it out, stall for time. His heart is pounding, his limbs shaking from the chase, and more than anything Zack wants to curl up someplace dark and not... think, or feel, anytime soon. He'd never understood people who, in response to a crisis, simply hid in a corner and cried in panic, but he can relate to that a little bit better now.

He stands up, not bothering with cover. Diego can't see him yet, but he will as soon as he clears that pillar and makes another sweep. Any moment now.

Zack wants to close his eyes, gives in to it. Let Diego find him. Let him shoot him, for all he cares. He's had enough of this cruel game. He's ready to lose, just for it to be over.

"There you are." The voice is smug and satisfied, sending a lurch through him. Zack looks up silently at the figure of the enforcer facing him – gun at the ready, visor only partially concealing the pleased, hungry smile, and he is panting slightly. Zack has nothing to say to him. He's tense, bracing himself for the worst, but refuses to let himself fidget. Some deep, ancient instinct in him is telling him to play dead. Maybe if he doesn't move, it won't be as bad...

"Look at you," Diego continues. He can't see the man's eyes behind that visor, but wagers he wouldn't like the look in them. "Not even trying to hide now, are you? Smart. Pity you weren't this smart when it mattered."

He raises his gun, gesturing at Zack. "Now, while you're at it, why don't you raise your hands, too? Show me you're unarmed."

Zack glares at him slightly, a weak reaction that breaks its way through the fear. This is wildly unnecessary. Any idiot could tell you he's unarmed.

Slowly, he raises his hands. Diego smirks, nods with satisfaction. "That'll do. Keep still, now."

Zack swallows, everything in him tensing as Diego approaches him with slow, heavy steps. Zack can see him better than he wants to, now, can see every scratch and scuff in that heavy guard armour, can tell just how much Diego is relishing this. He feels sickened.

"On your knees, now." Diego's voice is almost soft, but there is nothing soft about the way Diego is looking at him. He stops a few paces away.

Zack obeys him, hands still in the air. He watches the sights of the gun adjust on him. On the other side of it, Diego is watching him with his head tilted, as if surveying a particularly exquisite piece of art. Zack stares back impassively, past the barrel of the gun. He has no more defiance left in him, not anymore. Somehow, that feels more like losing than anything else has.

Diego nods softly. "Good..."

Zack barely has time to process it as the man lowers his gun and shoots him through the knee.

With a cry and a shudder, Zack drops to the floor, then simply lies there, gasping. He can't quite breathe past the pained, choked noises clawing through his throat, and his leg is on fire.

"Sorry, peach. A promise is a promise," Diego says quietly.

Zack barely hears him. He's squirming on the floor, helplessly cradling his knee and making noises he can't quite stop. The splintering, burning pain in his knee is slowly fanning out, as if engulfing him in radiation. The concrete floor is cold against his arms, the texture rough. Heavy footsteps, coming closer. He tries to lift his head to look up. Something heavy – a boot on his back forces him back down, crushes him briefly to the floor. He chokes on his whimper.

"I've got him." Diego's voice seems high above him, and it's exuberant, breathless. Footsteps again. Diego is walking away, towards the door. "Yes, we're on floor 47. Send someone to bring him in."

Zack closes his eyes and rests his face against the concrete. He has trouble thinking past the blazing pain – he can't move, can barely think about moving his leg without feeling like his knee has become a thin sack filled with white-hot shards. Something in him distantly realizes that it's not good news for his mobility, or his future chance of escape. Can't run very far on one leg. They've got to patch him up, right? They have to. At least it's over now. It sinks in with cold, sickening relief. The hunt is done. It's over.

Peach. Diego called him 'peach'. His blood runs cold at the realization. An old nickname. A word Zack remembers being murmured in the dark, affectionately, with a kiss pressed into his hair before they both get ready to face the new day. A glitch, or a rediscovery? Of all the damnedest things to remember...

"Belay that," the voice snaps him out of it – Diego's footsteps have stopped without him noticing. He's still in the room. "Five more minutes. I'm not done yet. No. Don't interrupt. Vulture out."

Zack hears a click as Diego shuts off comms, and then the heavy boots again... walking towards him, again, back towards him, slowly. No, no, not this, it's over, it is supposed to be over. Zack squeezes his eyes shut, unable to think past the overwhelming dread, so much stronger in its comeback now that it had been minutes before. He stays still as a corpse. Play dead and maybe he'll lose interest...

Diego's breathing is hungry, as if he's savouring the air as he stalks closer. He doesn't say anything, but the next thing Zack knows, a hand has seized him by the collar and is dragging him across the floor. He groans with pain as his leg is jostled in the process, tears springing to his eyes. "Diego, don't..." he manages to gasp. His leg catches on the leg of a table and he only just chokes back a sob.

Diego doesn't grace him with an answer. He drags Zack through a doorway into a cul-de-sac of a side room that must have been a kitchenette once, as far as Zack can tell from his vantage point near the floor. Diego kicks a turned over empty water cooler out of the way. Zack groans as he is pulled upright, shoved with his back against the counter and his legs stretched out in front of him. He has no choice but to look at him as Diego crouches in front of him, leering.

"Alright now, prisoner. Just you and me again," Diego murmurs, exhilarated, like he can't get enough of Zack's terror. Zack can only barely focus through the haze of pain, and even worse, the helplessness that has washed over him. He's hobbled, unarmed and has nothing to do except sit there and pray that Diego will get bored quickly enough. That face – fuck, he can't bear to look at it. All the familiar lines are still there, except for the glint of those eyes through the visor – twisted and dark like nothing he has seen before.

He finds himself looking away, trying to avoid that gaze, but Diego reaches out to non-too-gently grasp him by the chin. Zack hisses, staring into those eyes again. "Before I take you back, let's make sure we understand each other," he says softly, menacingly. "You've learned your lesson, haven't you? I must admit, I haven't had this much fun in a long, long while." His smile drops then, his face deadly serious. "But the time for fun and games is over. I want you to promise me something. Repeat after me: I will never try to run again."

Zack stays silent. At this point, only the rush of fear and adrenaline is still keeping him lucid, but there are lines he won't cross, some tiny vestiges of his spirit still remaining that he refuses to let go of. No way in hell is he going to play along now.

Diego's expression twists in an ugly way, he seems both outraged and smug. He's enjoying this, Zack realizes with a cold jolt. He'd never thought Diego, his Diego, had it in him..

"...One more time," Diego says slowly, deliberately, growling every syllable like a dog chewing through a particularly delicious bone, "I want you to promise me. That you will never try to run. Ever again." He tightens his grip on Zack, shifting his weight, and with an awful certainty Zack anticipates the pain a moment before it happens – Diego brings his boot down onto his knee, and Zack twists, a sound ripping from his throat as the pain flares white-hot, sparks dancing in his eyes. Mindlessly, he tries to scrabble for something, but Diego pins him down effortlessly. "Because let me promise you something, prisoner," Diego continues, his voice low and gravely, "if you ever try that again, I will find you, prisoner. I will hunt you down, and I will make damn sure you will not walk again for the rest of your short, miserable life. So tell me. Do we have an agreement?"

Zack doesn't answer. And then a moment later, he can't speak – Diego presses his boot down onto his knee and grinds it hard against the floor, and Zack is screaming again... he barely registers it, only feels it as the strain in his throat and the sound ripping through the building, his vision blurring with white noise. He loses track of things for a while. When he comes to, Diego is slapping his face, and then there is a splashing sound, something cool dripping down his skin, and Zack slowly blinks as Diego caps a flask at his side again. "There we go," the voice mocks him, a hand is roughly holding up his chin again. Zack squints at the bright overhead lights, his eyes won't quite focus on the figure blocking them out. Another slap to his face, harder this time, enough to whip his head around and make his ears ring.

“You with me again, peach?” A hand grabs his chin again, rough, but the nickname stings more.

“Stop...”, Zack manages, barely able to focus on his face past the haze of pain, the bright overhead lights bathing Diego's face like a halo. He cannot comprehend this. His Diego... his Diego was never like this.

The hand at his chin drifts up his cheek, oddly gentle now, and into his hair. Zack's head drops, he doesn't have the strength to hold it down, and the cool fingers against his scalp are the only thing that feels good right now. He leans into them dizzily. “Matthew?” he murmurs, before he can think better of it. Before he can regret it. Diego's name, his real name-

A terrible, empty beat of silence, but Diego's voice is inhuman when he breaks it.

“Quiet,” he growls, hand tightening in Zack's hair again, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut against the sting. Squeaking noises – bottlecap again, and his head is being held up again as water sloshes down his throat. He coughs, convulsing, and tries to swallow.

"That's better," Diego is saying, as if through a thick wall of cotton, his voice cold and merciless. "I want to make sure we understand each other. So tell me, one more time. Are you going to run again?”

Zack squints up at him against the glaring lights, grits his teeth, and doesn't answer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Zack stares at the floor.

His back is to the side of the bed, arms folded over his knees. In the background, the distant alarm noises blare on and off. The emergency lighting is flickering every so often. It looks real.

The door to his cell is open, the force field having fizzled into nothing some minutes ago, but he refuses to look at it.

It looks real, but it isn't.

He tells himself there's a reason. It's been two weeks. Thirteen days, to be precise. His knee still gives him jolts of pain when he places his weight on it too rapidly - advanced corporate medicine can only do so much. He's in no shape to make a run for it, even if it's real. He'll just have to wait for a better opportunity. After all, he never did make that promise not to run again.

That's what he tells himself.

Inside, he knows he'll stay put the next time, too. And the time after that, if it comes to it. There is no leaving, not for him. Not with the heavy weight that settled in his limbs two weeks ago and has refused to leave – a taste like lead and the cold tang of dread.

He starts to imagine running. Making a break for it, navigating the maze-like corridors, alone. Taking out the guards. Hacking into security. Pursuit, the heavy presence hot on his heels. Hiding with his back to a couch, barely daring to breathe.

His mind shrinks away from it and he releases a breath, slow and deep, emptying it again.

The boss would probably fire him on the spot, if she could see him right now.

Heavy footsteps down the corridor. His heart sinks, and only when they come to a stop in front of his cell does he dare to look up.

Diego – the Vulture, Zack needs to stop thinking of him as him – cuts an imposing figure in the doorway, with his visor and shoulder pads and semiautomatic held in a leisurely but firm two-handed grip. The unsettling smile on his face only widens when he sees Zack. He takes a step into the cell, taps at at key on his wrist. With a hum, the force-field doors reactivates behind him, but everything else – the cameras, the lighting – does not.

Zack's heart sinks. Not him again. Diego – the Vulture has mostly left him alone since that... hunt. With the exception of being there when Zack woke up, a cheap cup of coffee ready by his bedside in some kind of mocking gesture. He hadn't touched it, didn't know what to make of it. The less he thinks about Diego, the better.

Diego slowly holsters his gun, stepping closer. The cell is small enough that Zack already regrets his far too vulnerable position now, sitting on the floor. He wants to jump to his feet, back away from Diego into a corner, put all the distance he can between them... but something in him makes him stock-still. Something about the predatory glint in Diego's eyes, the memories of that day, of having learned that if he runs, Diego will give chase. Avoid giving him reason to, even the slightest. Stay still. Play dead, give him nothing to respond to. He will get bored.

At least that's what Zack tells himself when Diego stops in front of him.

“Good boy,” the man murmurs. Diego holsters the semiautomatic, then reaches out, ruffles Zack's hair, and he shudders. “You didn't run.”

There is nothing he can say to that.

The hand in his hair drifts down, cups his chin.

Diego's voice is smug, but soft. “I knew you'd learned your lesson.”

Zack stares at the floor and finds himself wishing for a gun.

#whump #whumpfic #ptsd fic #captivity #brainwashing #FYI content warnings are for the entire fic not necessarily this part #whumpfic: the hunt

22 notes · View notes

fanfoolishness · 4 years ago

Text

the wheeling stars, amidst the dark (The Mandalorian)

(Peli Motto’s glad to see one of her favorite customers, until she realizes he’s come alone. Peli + Din friendship, set after The Rescue. A study on grief, friendship, sorrow and hope. 5368 words.)

***

Winter on Tatooine was Peli’s favorite season, a time when the fierce desert heat gave up a little of its cruelty. There was less sweating through her jumpsuit; not no sweating, of course, just less. Water prices were better, and smugglers preferred to visit more often when the suns weren’t baking the sands below. More people, more ships in need of repair, more work. It was a good time of year.

She was at a lull today, though. Nothing to worry about. Happened now and then. She passed the time setting the droids on maintenance duties in between games of sabacc, checking up on inventory, and drinking through a pot of caf. It was actually cool enough this afternoon she could take her caf hot instead of chilled, and not feel like she was boiling alive. She took a sip. If nothing else, she was damn good at enjoying the little things.

She heard engines overhead and glanced up to see what was heading her way. An Intel X4 gunship, by the sound of it. It soared into view, and she narrowed her eyes in curiosity. Didn’t see those around often, but she could fix it. As long as the pilot was good for it, of course.

Her droids rolled up, ready to help, and she strolled out of her office with her cup of hot caf in hand. She blew on it idly as the ship set down on its landing gear, which had seen better days. She could already spot six areas that needed repair, always a bad sign.

The more she looked, the more she saw. The ship itself bore marked signs of carbon scoring and was missing several panels and outer arrays. One of the gun turrets had been taken out entirely. Poor flying, it looked like, but it made for good credits. She could get a solid day or two of work out of it, easy.

She waited, growing increasingly annoyed at the amount of time it was taking for the pilot to hurry up and step outside. Her caf was growing cold in her hands in the chilly winter breeze, and she frowned. “Coming out or what?” she hollered, perfectly aware that the pilot wouldn’t be able to hear her unless they opened the ship up. Still, though, it made her feel like she was doing something. One of her droids burbled to her curiously, and she shrugged.

After what seemed an eternity, the ramp dropped to the sand. She watched the darkness within the ship curiously, peering up into its belly as the pilot descended the ramp. Those boots -- it couldn’t be -- A grin stretched across her face.

“Mando!” she crowed. “Moving up in the world! Finally put that hunk of junk of yours to rest, did you?”

The Mandalorian stepped out of the cargo bay, each footstep on the ramp measured and slow. He walked down to her level. “The Crest had a good run,” he said, as humorless as ever.

“Well, what happened to her? You didn’t blow up running sublight, anyway, or you’d be space dust,” Peli laughed, taking a sip of her caf. Ah, hell. She’d forgotten it had gone cold. She slugged down the rest, her mouth twitching at the bitterness. She leaned sideways, looking around the back of him for the strap of the bag he wore to carry the kid. But he wasn’t wearing it.

“An Imperial light cruiser happened,” he said. “The X4’s serviceable enough. But it’s going to need some work.”

“A light cruiser?” Peli asked in disbelief. “That would have blown your rusty tin can to bits.”

He shifted slightly, rested his hands on his hips. “It did.”

“Hang on, hang on.” She handed her cup to one of the droids, who trotted off with it for cleaning. She stared at the Mandalorian, spreading her hands out wide. “Let’s get one thing straight. Where’s my little guy?”

Mando stared at her, or maybe he didn’t. The helmet was impossible to read. But his shoulders rose and fell. Rose, and fell.

She knew what an Imperial light cruiser could do. Knew it could take down a whole town from above, let alone a little ship. Let alone a little ship holding a defenseless child --

“Mando, come on,” she wheedled, trying to keep her tone light despite a growing sense of dread. “You’re scaring me here. Where is he?”

“He’s safe now,” said Mando at last, and even through the helmet his voice sounded wrong. Peli felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cool winter breeze.

“What do you mean?” she said sharply. “I don’t like how that sounds, I don’t like it at all. Sounds kinda final to me.”

“He’s with his own kind now,” said Mando, and his shoulders sank. He looked at his hands, flexed them as if he didn’t recognize them. “I found him a --” His voice hitched. He tried again. “I found him a -- a Jedi --”

She heard it, then, the strain. That rough wetness to the voice. The Mandalorian was crying.

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Ohhhh, shit shit shit, Mando.” She hurried over to him, grabbed the great silver lump by his shoulders, and steered him into her office. He went without protest, his vocoder still relaying breathing that was too ragged and irregular to be normal. Well, if this wasn’t a womp rat in the water tank.

She fought back her own disappointment, her face twisting as she shoved him into one of the chairs. She took the other, resting her face in her hand, and gaped at him.

“When did this happen?”

His helmet stared past her at the wall. He took a deep breath, and the weepy sounds were gone. “A few weeks ago,” he said, and his voice was all flatness, all emptiness.

She shook her head. “I mean, I know you said you were gonna -- but I thought that was just talk.”

“Why would it just be talk?” he asked, straightening up in his chair, stiff as anything. “I was quested --”

“For suns’ sake, I thought you were just being religious or something! A figure of speech!” said Peli. “I never thought you’d really send him away. You were crazy about him!”

The helmet tilted toward her in a faint nod. “Yeah.”

Peli rubbed her face, trying to square what he was telling her now with the way he carried that little kid halfway across the Dune Sea, strapped to his hip, precious as anything. She let out a long breath through her nose, thinking.

“So wait. The kid was a Jedi?”

“He had… powers. He needed training I couldn’t give him.” This part came out all rote, like he’d said it a hundred times.

“But he had to leave you for that? Like, you still get to see him now and then, right? He’s not gone forever -- oh no, I’m sorry, oh, hell.” He wasn’t crying this time, or if he was, it was harder to tell -- but he’d twisted his helmet hard to the side as if she’d punched him straight through his fancy armor, and he’d tensed in a way that had nothing to do with being battle-ready. She froze, waiting for him to respond.

“I don’t think I’ll ever see him again,” he mumbled, bowing his head over his chest. His hands unfurled in his lap, palms facing upward like they’d never hold a weapon again.

Damn it. Peli scrubbed her burning eyes, hard, with the sleeve of her jacket. They sat in silence for several minutes, Peli for once at a loss for words.

There was a small noise by the door. She glanced at it out of habit, startling when she realized it was one of the boys with her evening meal. She’d forgotten she’d set the droids on dinner duty tonight, not wanting to bother with it herself. She blinked away the stinging in her eyes and turned to the Mandalorian, slumped in the chair.

“Hey. You.”

He lifted the helmet slightly, enough so she could tell he heard her.

“When’s the last time you ate anything?”

He tilted his head upward to look at her, pausing as if in thought. “Yesterday? …day before yesterday.”

“Well, damn it, here you go.” She grabbed the tray from her droid and shoved the platter of food into the Mandalorian’s lap. He looked down at bantha cheese, sorghum bread and dewback jerky with apparent bemusement.

“I — shouldn’t—“

Oh, right. He was one of those that never showed his face, she remembered. She firmly turned her chair around and closed her eyes, shooing her droid away with one hand. She heard the droid go and reached, eyes still closed, to shut her office door.

“I ain’t looking,” she declared. “But you need to eat, and if you wanna talk while doing it, that’s fine too. I got more things to worry about than what one Mandalorian looks like under his helmet, you know.”

A few beats passed. She wasn’t sure what he would say, but the fact he hadn’t outright insisted she take her dewback jerky and screw off was probably a good sign.

“You swear it?” he asked cautiously.

“I do. Cross my heart and hope to fall in a sarlacc pit. But honest, if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go out to the yard, or you can get back on your ship —“

There was a hissing sound and a faint snick. “No. It’s all right.” The words were followed by the sounds of eating and swallowing. Something in her relaxed slightly, hearing it.

Peli leaned back in her chair, resolutely keeping her eyes closed. Customers had a million weird requests and this was an easy one, especially since a well-fed customer always paid better.

Besides, Mando wasn’t just a typical customer anymore. Somewhere in there between repeat business and the shared affection they had for the child, he’d become a… a friend. And Peli knew how to deal with those.

She settled her head in against the chair’s back and crossed her arms. “So,” she said baldly, “I take it you’re not exactly doing great.”

He snorted. Huh, he could laugh. “That’s presumptuous,” he said, and without the ominous filter of the helmet, his voice was just a man’s voice, a little low, a little rough. There was a pause. “No. I guess not.”

“It’s not something people just get over, losing a kid.” She waved a hand up over the back of her chair in what she assumed was still his general direction. “And I know, maybe you’ll say he wasn’t really your kid —“

“No,” he said suddenly, the word fierce. “He was.” He sounded raw, vulnerable. Human.

Peli nodded, her heart aching. She liked that he was admitting it. He’d always been cagey about that before, when Peli would tease him about his strange-looking kid and he’d mulishly push back, spouting off crap about the kid being a foundling, yadda yadda. But it had been obvious to her on their visits it was more than that. The kid wasn’t a foundling, he was his foundling.

“So then, he’s your kid,” she continued. She waved one hand where he could see it, underscoring her words. “And losing him… it hurts, right? Some horrible dark hole you can’t climb out of. Can’t see the suns from. It sticks with you, through everything you do.” She sighed. “It does get… softer, eventually. The dark sticks to the corners again. But it’s still awful. If you weren’t a mess about it I wouldn’t like you so much.”

She could hear him breathing hard behind her. She waited. “You’ve been through it yourself,” he said, realizing.

“Something like that. Not exactly the same.” She shrugged, broadly enough that she thought he could probably see it even with the chair back in the way. With her eyes closed it was easy to see their faces as they had been. Her younger sister Prida, gleefully loudmouthed and brassy; her beautiful nephew Nedhi with his chubby cheeks and bright eyes. “But let’s just say you don’t get to be my age on a world like this without losing people.”

“No. I guess not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Peli, though it never would be, not really. But she’d done her work on the dark, hard kriffing work, and she didn’t want him feeling like he had to suddenly stop being a mess and focus on helping her. This wasn’t about that. “It was a long time ago. You don’t move on, really, but you move forward.”

She heard a faint click. “You can turn around now,” he said. “Thank you for your kindness.”

“That’s me, Peli Motto, kindness expert,” she said loftily.

A faint sound that might have been something like a laugh shifted into a serious tone. “I haven’t shared a meal with anyone in -- not since Grogu.” The last word came out nearly as quiet as a whisper, but she caught it anyway. It sounded like a name.

She turned back around, opening her eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness. Mando’s helmet, back in place, gleamed in the fading sunlight streaming through the window. “What’s a Grogu?” she asked curiously.

“It’s the kid’s real name. I only found out recently.” He rested a hand on his belt, fingers tightening over one of the pouches. “You should have seen the way he smiled, hearing it again --” His voice had gone warm again, taking that tone he always used when talking to the kid.

Peli grinned at him, picturing the kid’s strange face all sunny, his long ears tipping upward. Grogu. It fit him in a strange way, a weird homely name for a weird homely baby: just like how the bright little baby seemed to fit so well with the grim Mandalorian. This was good. This was progress.

But Mando caught himself, the warmth shutting off abruptly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about this. You have other things to do, and you’ve already done more than you needed. And I should —“

“You should what?” Peli asked. “Go back and mope alone on your new ship? Something tells me you’ve already done more than enough of that, Mr. I Haven’t Eaten in Two Days.”

“You have no right --” he began, half-rising out of his chair as if to leave.

“No right to what?” she snapped, annoyed now. “Point out when you’re gonna get yourself killed? Don’t think I haven’t seen the state of that ship. I know you’re a better pilot than that, you had to be to survive in the junk you were flying before. If you’d taken any halfway decent evasive maneuvers it’d be in much better shape. You’re flying sloppy,” she accused, and he sank back into the chair.

“And if I am?” he said, and the hollowness rolled off of him in waves.

Peli got to her feet, pacing around with one hand anchored to her hip, the other flying around to make her point. Tough guys! There was no end to their obnoxiousness. “Look. This is grief, Mando, and that’s the kind of shit that hunts you down and takes you out if you don’t face it. You’re not special. It’ll get you. But I think you’re good people, and I like having you as a customer, and I’m selfish. I’d like to keep you around instead of hearing you got yourself blown up.”

He lowered his head, listening.

“So here’s Peli’s take on the situation. I think you wanna talk about him, and about what you’re going through.” She raised her brows. “And I think you should. I really think you should.”

He was silent for a few moments. She paced.

“And you’re the one to talk to, huh?” he asked.

“Unless you’re hiding somebody else on that ship.”

He chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. “Only in carbonite. But they’re not very good listeners.”

“Well, look who’s a funny guy!” Peli cackled. “Come on. I’ll get the droids started on repairing your ship. Let’s go up to the roof and take some time. Night’s nice, this time of year.”

“Fine,” he said, in utter resignation.

***

They sat on empty shipping containers on the rooftop where the breeze was best, watching the moons rise as the last flare of the setting suns washed across the horizon. The first star of the evening shone silvery white against the dusk.

Mando sat, shoulders straight and head high, on his crate; Peli slouched comfortably on hers. A thermos of hot chocolate sat beside her, a treat she liked to save for particularly profitable days. And for rough ones, too. It was still a little too hot to drink, and she waited, trying to be patient despite it not being one of her strong suits.

“Well, Mando?” she asked.

“What do you want me to say?” he replied.

“I dunno. Tell me something about the kid. Something that made you happy about him. Or sad. Come on, they’re your emotions,” said Peli. “Ahh, I suppose I should go easy on you. You don’t strike me as the conversational type.”

Another one of those dry chuckles. “I’m not. But I talked to him a lot.”

“Sure. It’s good for kids. Gotta mold those growing brains and all. What’d you talk to him about? Bounty hunting?”

“Not exactly,” said the Mandalorian. He angled his head to one side, considering. “I would always give him some idea of what we were doing, where we were going, who we were going to see. He seemed to like hearing about it, like it was a story.”

“Did you ever tell him any bedtime stories?” asked Peli. “He liked those, you know.”

He turned to her, folding his arms across his chest. “What do you mean?”

“How d’you think I got him to sleep, that first time you two showed up? You were off in the Dune Sea with that idiot hunter kid, and I had to figure out how to get the little guy to get some sleep, otherwise he would have eaten me out of house and home,” laughed Peli. “So I told him all the stories I used to tell my nephew Nedhi. The lost little bantha, the happy Jawa, the baby krayt dragon all alone in the desert. You know. The classics.”

“I’m sure he enjoyed them,” said Mando. “I didn’t really know any stories.” He shifted awkwardly on his crate. “I tried to make up a few, but it’s not exactly my forte.”

“Well, he did like the stories, but I think he liked them too well. Kept trying to act out the dance of the happy Jawa instead of going to sleep. Nah, he didn’t get tired until I tried singing a lullaby to him. You do not want to hear me sing, but I guess it worked. Kids have weird taste,” said Peli, shaking her head. She checked the display on her thermos and saw the temperature had settled at the perfect warmth for drinking. “Hey, you want some hot chocolate? Mixed it special. I might have added a few nips of Rylothian firewhiskey; really gives it a kick.”

“Maybe later,” said Mando gruffly.

“Your loss,” said Peli, pouring out a little cup for herself. She blew on the surface, then took a sip, feeling warmth suffuse her from the top of her head to her toes. She whistled. “It’s a good batch. Lemme know if you change your mind.”

The last daylight vanished, leaving a sky painted in inky blues and purples. The nascent moons crept shyly above the horizon as the starfield began to populate in earnest, points of flickering gold and white amid the darkness.

“What was his favorite food?” Peli asked.

The Mandalorian guffawed, throwing his head back. “He ate everything. You know he almost got us all killed on that transport trip with your Frog friend?”

“What?” Peli squawked. “I heard back from her later. Sent me a holo of her cute little tadpoles and told me you’d kept your word like a true Mandalorian. She didn’t mention a word about death-defying experiences.”

“We crashed on a glacial world trying to shake a New Republic patrol,” said Mando. “I was busy repairing the ship when she wandered off and found a hot spring. She was trying to keep her eggs warm and I was trying to keep them safe from -- well, Grogu found these spider eggs and started eating them. Turns out ice spiders come in a lot of different sizes.” He groaned. “The biggest one was the size of the Crest. If I never see another ice spider, it’ll be too soon.”

“Oh, no,” Peli lamented. “Well, tell me you weren’t too hard on him. He couldn’t have known what he was doing. He was just hungry!”

“Don’t worry. He didn’t get in trouble. It wasn’t his fault,” said Mando. He lay back on the crate, lacing his fingers together over his waist and letting his legs hang free. “I should have kept a better watch on him.” He turned his helmet to look at her. “You were right.”

“About what?” asked Peli, taking another sip of chocolate. It burned sweetly on the way down, and she closed her eyes, savoring it. The warmth was a delicious contrast to the cool night wind. “Besides everything.”

“The first time we met. You told me I had a lot to learn about caring for a young one.”

She cast her mind back to her first meeting, remembering how Grogu had sleepily walked out of the ship, looking around in disappointed confusion for his beskar-clad caretaker. She’d seen a lot of shoddy childcare in Mos Eisley, but leaving a toddler alone on a gunship definitely ranked up there with questionable parenting practices. It was a move made either by someone foolish or desperate, and she knew which one Mando wasn’t.

“Yeah, well, you probably didn’t have a lot of options,” said Peli gently. “Raising a kid, it’s hard work. I tried to help my sister Prida as much as I could. My nephew was always getting into things and making a nuisance of himself, so I watched him a lot when she had to work. He was always messing around with my tools and getting underfoot; used to tell my sister I’d rather adopt a Kowakian monkey-lizard than have to deal with his shenanigans.” She smiled fondly.

“Did your nephew grow out of it?” asked Mando. “I kept hoping Grogu would start listening to me for once, but he was stubborn.”

Peli shook her head, swallowing. She looked away from him, staring off into the darkened desert, shivering slightly in the wind. “Never got to find out. The Hutts charged a lot for protection. I didn’t even know Prida was in debt until…” She sighed. “I came home with dinner and found them both. There had been a struggle, but not a very long one.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mando, sitting back up. His shoulders shifted, the angle between them softening.

“It’s never the same for anybody,” said Peli. “Grief, I mean. I don’t know exactly what you’re going through. But I think the shape of it’s kind of the same, even if the name is different. Son. Nephew. Sister. It’s all hard.” She finished her chocolate and reached for the thermos. More firewhiskey sounded good, right about now. “Sure you don’t want some, Mando?”

He hesitated, then reached out an orange-gloved hand.

“That’s the spirit,” said Peli. She filled her own cup, then filled the second one for him and passed it over. She held hers up and clinked it against his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” he said cautiously. She turned away, keeping her gaze on the distant mountains, just the merest black line on the darkened horizon. The stars spangled the heavens, little jewels in gold and white. Behind her, the Mandalorian was apparently investigating his drink. She heard the click and hiss of his helmet raising and lowering as he drank, then a hacking sputter.

“You all right there?” she asked, resisting the urge to look at him in case she saw under the helmet.

He gulped audibly. “It’s been a while since I had firewhiskey,” he said, his voice unmechanized. She heard him swallow again, this time without the sputter. “This is good, though. I haven’t had hot chocolate in years.”

“Even the packaged stuff?” Peli asked. “Aw, come on. You gotta treat yourself sometimes, Mando.”

“Treating myself usually means picking up a new weapon,” he said drily. “Grogu would have liked this, though. Without the firewhiskey.”

“Of course, of course.”

She sipped her chocolate. In the distance, a lonely krayt dragon howled, just like in the stories. It was a faint, pithy sound, but the empty sands carried the cry clearly, and it washed over them like the breeze. She and Prida used to cower at the sound when they were children. Now, it simply sounded like home.

“So how are you really?” asked Peli. She’d never seen much point in subtlety.

“I don’t sleep well,” he said reluctantly.

“Sounds about right. It takes a toll,” said Peli. “Hurt like this messes with you. I remember I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything. It took weeks, maybe months, before I could sleep again.”

“Grogu used to wake me up most nights, talking to himself or crying or getting into things. I… didn’t mind that,” he mused. “But now he’s gone. And I still can’t sleep.”

“Dreams?”

She heard the click of his helmet settling back into place. “Yes.”

“Bad ones?”

A long, tense pause. When he spoke again, his voice shook. “Yes.”

She turned back to face him, taking another drink, letting the warmth of the chocolate fill her mouth and chest. She remembered that time in a blurry, confused way, broken nights marked by imagining how that fight must have gone. Dreams where she thought they’d died quickly, or dreams where they lasted for a while, suffering, on the floor of their cramped grimy kitchen. She didn’t know which she hated more.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She looked down at her hands, calloused and wrinkled, a lifetime of hard work etched into them. But they hadn’t been enough to undo what had been done.

“He almost died,” said Mando roughly, glancing away from her. Moonlight and starlight pooled and rippled over his armor. “The Imps took him. They were taking his blood, doing tests on him. Experiments. If I hadn’t come for him -- if that Jedi hadn’t been so powerful...” He sighed.

“Shit,” whispered Peli.

HIs hands curled into fists. “He was so pale when I found him. They’d hurt him. Badly.” His legs, dangling over the edge of the crate, were trembling. All of him was trembling.

A white-hot rage burned within her, a fury that made her slug back the rest of her chocolate and scowl. “Are they still alive? You need me to kill them for you?”

He laughed a little, the sound cracking partway through. The trembling faded. “They’re all either dead or the New Republic’s problem now. But… thank you.”

“How could anyone hurt a hair on his head?” growled Peli. “You’re sure he’ll be safe with this Jedi?”

“The Jedi fought like nothing I’ve ever seen,” said Mando. “And he promised he would lay down his life for the kid. I have to believe it’s enough. I did what I set out to do. It just….” He rolled the little cup of hot chocolate around in his hand, then raised his other hand to lift the helmet. Peli closed her eyes until she could hear the helmet drop back down.

“It must have been so hard,” said Peli. “Letting him go like that.”

Mando set the cup down beside him and rested his hands on his thighs, the fingers flexing and uncurling. “I let him see me.”

“Huh? You’re hard to miss, you know --” Peli began, then realized. “You mean your face?”

A slight nod, the helmet dipping towards her and lifting back up. “I… broke the Creed.” The words hung heavy in the air between them. “I don’t regret it. He wanted to see me. And… I wanted to be seen.” His voice dropped, low and hoarse. “I promised him I would see him again. But I don’t know that I will, and I -- I wanted him to remember my face.”

Peli gaped at him, horrified. “So let me get this straight. You lost your boy. And your ship. And your creed? Just since the last time I saw you?”

He was quiet.

“Dank farrik, Mando!” she bellowed. A flock of lesser nightwings roosting on the roof took flight, scattering in the moonlight at the sound. “Look. You can dock here as long as you need, all right?”

He shook his head. “People are hunting me. What else is new?”

Peli frowned. “Fair enough.” The guy really didn’t seem to be able to catch a break. “Don’t want to put you at risk, in case you do get to see him again. And I’ll be pulling for you on that, believe you me. We’ll get you out of here, quick as we can.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You know, I figured out what it is,” said Peli. “What got me. You and Grogu remind me so much of Prida and Nedhi -- the two of you against the world.” Her mouth quirked up to one side in a half-smile. “Just don’t forget to visit old Peli if you get him back, you hear?”

“Sure. Maybe you can teach me some of those bedtime stories for him,” said Mando. “For -- for the future.”

“Absolutely.” She kicked her heels against her crate, rapping an aimless pattern as she did so. The firewhiskey was starting to kick in a little, and she made a decision. “Look… just so you know, repairs on your ship are on me this time.”

“No,” he said sternly. “Full price. Plus extra for the food and the chocolate.”

“No,” Peli insisted. He was an obstinate one, that was for sure. She could see where the kid got it from. “Fine. Half price. You overpaid me the first time, remember?”

He let out an annoyed grunt. “Three quarters.”

“Deal,” she said, smirking. “You’re something else, Mandalorian.”

He seemed to be thinking hard about something, though it was difficult to tell with the helmet. Eventually he said, “Din.”

“Eh?”

“My name is Din Djarin,” he said.

She blinked. “It’s a good name,” she said lamely. Huh. She hadn’t expected that. But then again, maybe Mando didn’t sit on him as easily as it used to. The thought made her sad, the feeling mingled with a sense of something like honor, what with him sharing this with her. She suspected it was something he had done very few times before.

“All right, Din,” she said, trying it out. It felt heavy, and strange, but right. “Don’t worry. I won’t spread it around.”

“Thanks.”

She glanced at her chrono, realizing how long they’d been up on the roof. “Well, I guess I’d better check on how the droids are getting on with your ship, since you’ll need to get going.”

“I... have a little time,” Din said slowly, glancing at her. “Got any more of that chocolate?”

She grinned at him, heartened. “For a friend? Yeah. Of course I do.” She reached for his cup and refilled them both with the last of the spiked hot chocolate. She passed him his cup and he held it up for a toast.

Peli hesitated, then smiled softly. “To those we carry with us.” Her cup clinked against his, a bright and hopeful sound.

“To those we carry with us,” Din echoed, and the mingled grief and gratitude in his voice cut her to the core.

The moons above them glowed in soft whites and yellows against the endless sky, and the stars wheeled. Below them, Mos Eisley lived and hummed and moved on, its citizens striving, searching, seeking. The mechanic and the man in armor sat on the roof under the stars and moons, enjoying the taste of hot chocolate and firewhiskey in the cool winter air, and for at least a little while, they did not fear the dark.

***********

(Bonus: a doodle I did of their initial meeting.)

#the mandalorian #din djarin #peli motto #grogu #the mandalorian fanfiction #noromo mando #my mando fic

85 notes · View notes

thanksjro · 4 years ago

Text

Dark Cybertron Chapter 6: This Sure is a Comic I’m Reading.

The Dinobots are chilling out by the standing Titan, because Slag went and got his ass kicked by the super death wave a few issues back.

Excuse me, Slug.

There’s real-world context for this change- you see, in England, the word “slag” is often used as a derogatory term. Specifically, it’s either used as a stand in for “prostitute” or “whore”, or in more of a generalized “I greatly dislike this person” sort of way. It’s typically aimed at women, which is likely why Arcee said something to him as opposed to anyone else.

This little exchange is interesting, since Dark Cybertron Chapter 6 was published in 2014. Our boy Slug here first showed up in the original cartoon, back in the 80s, and was in the Marvel UK comics, where they didn’t change his name. A good portion of the IDW creative team, including 50% of the writers for this event storyline, are also from the UK. Seems like someone finally got sick of calling a whole-ass robot dinosaur a slut.

Not that there’s anything wrong with enjoying casual sex, or being a sex worker, but slapping labels on other people without their input is sort of a shitty thing to do, especially when you’re doing it in a franchise typically aimed at younger audiences, and with a surprisingly large following in the UK, where that term is used.

Anyway, while this conversation was happening, the Titan moved, and when it did, it kicked up a shit-ton of dust. Astrotrain, who is laying off to the side with his legs and an arm off, offers Swoop his binoculars. When asked why the hell he has binoculars- which doesn’t seem so strange to me, given that they’re standard military equipment in a lot of places- he tries to explain that he’s got shit eyes, and didn’t want Megatron to know about them. This would be an interesting glimpse into the inner workings of the Decepticons and how they view disability, if Swoop actually gave a damn.

But he doesn’t.

So it’s not.

Swoop sees with his special eyes that the guys who went down into the Crystal City have escaped, and are currently trying to outrun the Titan, and also the title of this issue.

Watch out, that typography’s gonna fuckin’ get you!

The Dinobots start firing on the Titan, which does fuck-all, and Prowl yells at them to head for Iacon, since that’s where the Titan’s going. Bumblebee, Skywarp, and Megatron are revealed to be MIA. Bummer.

Over on that weird water planet the Lost Light landed on a few issues back, the Rod Pod gang have puttered into Metroplex’s eye socket, and are currently making a Fantastic Voyage. Getaway asks where the hell Metroplex’s eyeball got to, but nobody has an answer for him, least of all Metroplex. Strange happenings on this weird water planet.

Ratchet gives everyone the skinny on Titan physiology theory- thank god he came along on the trip so I could at least get a little lore to feed my brain through this slog.

So, Metroplex’s spark could actually be out right now. Even though the lights are still on, that doesn’t mean anyone’s actually home, because the power of his spark needs time to actually travel through the body, and it needs a lot more time than the average robot, because he’s just so goddamned big. Humans also need time for their animating force… or, uh, blood to travel through the body. This is why we have a pulse. If it was instantaneous, we wouldn’t, but we’d probably also explode, because our squishy little bodies wouldn’t be able to handle that shit.

The gang starts scanning for life signs, even though they’re not even sure if they’ll be able to pick anything up. Brainstorm theorizes that the water could be causing degradation to Metroplex’s body. Getaway is still stuck on the Rod Pod existing. He’s having a moment. He’s been having a moment, really, ever since he saw the damn thing.

The results from the life-scan come in, and it looks like Metroplex might actually be okay, because there’s a blip for everyone in the Rod Pod, plus one! Hooray!

Nobody tell them about the hanger-on who’s basically glued himself to the ass of the Pod. We’ll let them have this little win, if only for a moment.

Ratchet suggests they head for the brain to check things out. Brainstorm reads back the report on the water sample he took, holding his data pad as precariously as he possibly can as he does. There’s admium flakes in the water. Nobody knows what this means, so they try to call Swerve, who is a metallurgist, for his professional opinion. The call goes to voicemail. Pity, that.

The fellas show up at the cranium, and there’s a small issue; Metroplex’s brain isn’t there. It wasn’t yanked out, either- it’s clean as a whistle in there, all things considered. Next stop- the spark. Hopefully they can get there before all the lights go out, because it’s beginning to look rather grim for ol’ Plexy.

Back on Cybertron, Starscream is asking about the fatality rate of the death wave, which is a bit funny to read now that I’ve typed it out. Tankor- who is our tie-in issue character today- decides he’s going to start some shit with Starscream, even as people are evaporating around him in the medical center he’s volunteered to assist at. Starscream takes the verbal stripping down with a straight face, because at this point, it’s just par for the course for him. Being head honcho of a whole planet kinda sucks, as he’s quickly finding out.

Flatline, who is also here, makes a crack at Starscream’s expense, and Starscream decides that that’s going to be the straw that breaks his camel’s back, as he starts getting dangerously sarcastic with the guy. Too bad this isn’t the time for that, however, because the Titan just showed up at the city limits.

Wow, Titan really said “fuck those two guys on the left in particular.”

Over in the Dead Universe, it turns out that the massive fiery laser blast from last issue DIDN’T kill everyone, and doesn’t actually seem like it was ever intended to. I suppose it was some sort of transport beam that Nova Prime used for his entrance, like the dramatic bitch he is. That’s neat, I guess.

Hardhead’s pretty upset by Nightbeat’s betrayal, not that Nightbeat really cares- being brainwashed tends to have that effect. Hardhead starts slamming his skull against the containment cube, living up to his name and also making himself look like a fool. Cyclonus is beginning to regret agreeing to this trip. Orion Pax punches the wall and starts yelling at Nightbeat for being a traitor, pretty much breaking his hand in the process. Rodimus tries to get him to chill out, and gets a knuckle sandwich for his troubles.

Also, this whole thing is a ruse. Orion managed to crack the cube, and he’s gonna try to get them out, but he can only do it if Nightbeat doesn’t realize what’s going on. Once Rodimus is let in on the plan, he tries to butter up ol’ Ikea Johnson, who notices the very mysterious something that’s on Rodimus’ palm. The thing that’s NOT his forcefield generator, that we don’t get to know about just yet.

Seeing the mysterious something makes Nightbeat fall to his knees, clutching his head in pain. At least, that’s what Orion says happened. I don’t know what happened or why, or why Orion would fucking know what happened or why. Or even, really, if it was Orion making the claim in the first place.

Not even any feet to try to connect to characters. I’m just guessing on previous panels.

“Dark Cybertron” makes me so, so tired.

Anyway, Nova Prime tells everyone to get on their knees, lest he shoot them with his big honkin’ back turrets.

Back inside Metroplex, the fellas have exited the Rod Pod and are on the hunt for Metroplex’s spark. Someone’s gone and drawn arrows pointing in the direction of the spark chamber, though who exactly is a mystery. Lots of mystery going on this issue. The boys decide to see where the graffiti takes them, leaving the Rod Pod to whatever fate might befall it while they’re gone.

Nobody likes the Rod Pod very much.

Also, that hanger-on from earlier is still there. This’ll turn out great, surely!

We get treated to a double-page spread of Escher proportions, as the gang tries to traverse the inner workings of Metroplex, until they hit an arrow that seemingly hits a dead end. When they brute force their way through the ceiling, it’s bad news bears; they’re right back where they started. Whirl, our most volatile friend, takes out his frustration on the Rod Pod, only for more bad news to reveal itself: the Pod’s been rigged to explode by the hanger-on!

And that’s a series wrap on the Rod Pod Squad! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Back in the Dead Universe, Nova Prime is busy deadnaming Orion, and generally just being an asshole. He notices Cyclonus off in the corner, and starts being an asshole at him too, because that’s how Nova interacts with the world. It’s all he knows.

It’s at this point that Cyclonus gives Hardhead the signal, and Hardhead bashes through the crack in the cube. Too bad it reseals itself directly behind him. Hardhead goes to punch Nova Prime, and gets his hand crushed into pulp for his troubles. Then he dies, because that was his forcefield hand.

And that’s a series wrap on Hardhead!

Nova Prime informs everyone that he’ll be taking them to visit a pal of his.

You know, this reveal would be a hell of a lot more poignant if I could FUCKING TELL WHO THE SHIT THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE.

#transformers #jro #dark cybertron #issue 6 #mtmte #issue 25 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #comic script writing

69 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Oral Tradition

It was a little past midnight as the weary-eyed students picked up their luggage from the jet. The entire back of the plane had lifted up and a conveyor belt rolled out the attack aircraft they would be using for the mission. It was like the big Beluga whale plane was giving birth to a killer barracuda.

The jet was outfitted with high powered explosives. The outer shell was made of a material that would shatter and turn into thousands of razor blades, just like the Storm Torpedo had shattered Norton. Huge turrets were armed not with bullets but with thousands of needle-like projectiles like how the sky weapon had devastated Herzog. It was as if the Gear Department had taken all the technology that had been used against the dragons in recent years and put it all in one airborne package.

Brian stood, his duffle bag over one shoulder, watching Ru’Yi collect her things. She seemed sleepy but still bright and happy. He didn’t try to say hi. Their last encounter was humiliating enough.

It has always understood that through training and learning, even the least of the Hybrids could excel in all sorts of missions in regards to dragonslaying. From the beginning, Brian had distinguished himself in that regard. But at the same time, it was understood that pedigree and bloodline could close the gap between lack of education and training.

He was sure she didn’t mean anything by it personally. She just laid out the facts to him. Ru’Yi’s father and her mother were confirmed slayers of Dragon Kings. She had a better pedigree than even the Executive Department head. Bloodline wasn’t everything, but it was one of the ways you were evaluated. Even though she was not nearly as skilled as the rest, the crowd around her couldn’t help but part now that she had so clearly conveyed to them who exactly she was. She wasn’t even aware of their reverence. She just smiled and nodded in surprise assuming they were being chivalrous when they offered to carry her bags.

He should have taken the hint from his friend Aaron but she definitely put him in his place in her own way. He had no right object any longer.

Aaron stayed next to him, grinning ear to ear. He raised his face to the warm sea breeze and sighed. “You look like a kicked dog. Cheer up will you?”

He tilted his head to him. “Sure.”

A uniformed woman, tall, with turtle shell glasses, stepped in front of them all. A small smile graced her lips. Her skin was an exceptionally dark and silky ebony. “I’ll be taking you to your accommodations. Please follow me.” Without waiting for confirmation, she turned and started to lead them down a narrow staircase to a passageway below deck.

“Welcome to the Aido-Hwedo. For the unfamiliar, she is a Yorktown-class Aircraft carrier, staffed with 1,273 persons, not including yourselves. We sail for months at a time patrolling for any sign of dragon activity. We are currently carrying 76 aircraft: 10 Seahawk helicopters, 35 Hornets and 31 Super Hornets. Your fighter the Javelin will be making the entry into the weather anomaly but we are here to support you in any way possible. The goal of this mission will be maximum air superiority.”

Despite the age of the vessel, everything was new and state of the art. The halls were spacious enough for them to walk unobstructed even as it was bustling with people. “My name is Lieutenant Summer Hart and I’m going to be your main point of contact.” She turned on her heel to face them. “This cooperation is based on the association with Mr. Baldwin as well as on the goodwill furnished by Principal Anjou. You are representatives and ambassadors here. So don’t do anything to make Anjou sigh in heaven.” She paused a moment and then smiled. “Oh… who am I kidding, we all know he’s in Hell.”

A ripple of soft laughter came from the group. They all had no experience with Anjou in real life, but his reputation for ruthlessness outlived any other trait he had.

Lieutenant Hart continued walking down the hall. “Because you are guests here, we won’t hold you to the full responsibilities of a sailor, however, we are expecting you to be on your best behavior and to follow the schedule of the ship. You are to report at 6 am for roll call. Breakfast is at 8 am. Lunch at 12 noon and dinner at 5 pm. If you are in need of anything we do have a shopping area here on board. As a guest, you are not expected to pay but please…” She glanced behind her. “Do not abuse the privilege.”

“Part of your responsibilities will be keeping your living area clean and tidy. We do not have maid staff on this voyage. At 9 am, your sleeping area will be thoroughly checked for cleanliness and infractions will be reported. Any contraband will be confiscated.”

The hallway came to an end and she swiped her card. The wall panel suddenly slid open and they were led to what appeared to be something almost like a hospital ward with white walls lined with art and fluorescent lighting.. “This is where you’ll be sleeping. It’s cramped I know but you won’t be here for very long. I know you’re tired from the journey.”

She suddenly turned to Ru’Yi. “Sleeping areas are strictly separated by gender so I’ll show you to the women’s quarters.” She gave the others a fierce glare. “No men are allowed in the women’s area. If you are seen there you will be thrown into the brig. The area is clearly marked.”

Ru’Yi gave a shy little wince. “I guess I have a room to myself?”

“Not really. We weren’t …” Lieutenant Hart paused, rethinking finishing that sentence. Then her smile returned. “We can discuss that later.” She raised her eyes to the rest of the group. “Do you have any questions?”

Shimoda Masato raised his hand. “This is my first time working with the West Africa Branch. Can you tell me a little about your history?”

Liutenant Hart gave a curt nod. “Hybrids have always existed in Africa. While Mesopotamia is traditionally held as the ‘cradle of civilization’, it was the African plains and low forests that birthed humanity itself. We have the oldest relationship and conflict with dragons and their kind.”

She continued. “Our oral history cannot be fully explained by your traditions of the Dark King and the Light King. Our Creation Traditions do have dual gods, Mawu and Lisa. They are Brother and Sister as well as Husband and Wife. Mawu is Female and Lisa is Male.”

Ru’Yi rubbed her chin. “Mawu and Lisa are the same Dark King and the Light King?”

Summer Hart shook her head. “We cannot make that assumption. There are too many differences that cannot be explained by Cassell’s traditional knowledge.”

Aaron had an eager expression, pushing to the front of the group. “Can you give us a brief run down?”

Summer looked a bit tired but couldn’t resist such an enthusiastic and curious audience. . “It was Mawu who created the earth while riding the Rainbow serpent, Aido-Hwedo, sliding across the ground and creating the hills and mountains. After the creation was finished, Mawu felt that the Earth would sink under its own weight, so she tasked Aido-Hwedo to support the earth in its strong coils under the sea.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “In Cassell tradition, there are two Dragon Gods over all dragons, the Dark King Nidhogg and the Light King Izanami. However, in our tradition, the creator duality itself has a parent: Minona. Our traditions are passed down from her, the Mother of the Earth’s creators. She taught us to use the palm tree to tell the future, that is… Alchemy. Minona herself is a twin, sister to the god Legba, which is consistent with draconic relationships and lore. Legba is the one who gave us our Soul Skills.”

The students were whispering and murmuring among themselves after receiving so much new information.

“So, what you’re saying is there are more than two dragon gods? Then how come we don’t read about them in other histories?” Aaron asked, with a puzzled frown.

Summer Hart gave him a kind but pointed look. “Because our traditions are oral, my dear friend. We did not write them down. There are no temples to explore, no ruins, no clay tablet to find.”

Aaron sighed mournfully. “I’m sure Anjou was really curious about it too. It’s a shame he didn’t get to know any of this. I would have loved to have taken a class.”

Summer didn’t respond to that. She simply turned back to the group. “Any other questions?”

Brian lifted his hand. “What sort of kit is on this ship besides the planes?

“The ship is equipped with 8 Mark 12 5"/38 caliber guns, 45 Bofor antiaircraft guns, 32 Oerlikon cannons. All are modified to deal with dragon targets rather than fighter jets. We’re running heavy with alchemy rounds.”

Aaron blinked in shock. He didn’t expect so much artillery. “From the gear department?”

She shook her head. “We have our own engineers and alchemists to take care of our needs. But please do not be concerned. We pride ourselves on our alchemical prowess and we have a long history of dragon slaying.”

Aaron raised his hand again. “By any chance we could maybe learn more about your type of Alchemy and Soul skills?”

“I will have to ask the brass but… highly unlikely.” She checked her watch. “I will have to take our lone lady to her sleeping quarters. I suggest you get as much rest as you can.”

#Class of 2032 #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

thran-duils · 4 years ago

Text

Devils Look Like Angels (Ch. 13)

Title: Devils Look Like Angels (Chapter 13) Summary: Fem!Reader x Psychotic!Castiel. An unhinged, criminal, supernatural artifact collector extraordinaire… and the reader caught his eye. It will not take her long to realize that beneath the charm and mystique is a crazed killer who will go to great lengths to woo her. Words: 1,916 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Stalking, angst, death/murder, violence

Author’s Note: There is one more chapter after this!

Chap 12 || Chap 14 || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

The door swung open before you had even had the opportunity to knock. Castiel was standing there beaming, dressed as fashionable as ever.

“Come in,” he told you cheerfully, stepping out of the way to allow you room.

Your foot crossing the threshold sent a shiver through you, feeling as if you were walking into the lion’s den. Sam and Dean were down the street and were ready to come in if this took too long. You told Dean twenty minutes was the cap if you had not texted them yet. Sam had protested to that, believing that was too long to wait. But you told him you may need time to console and that required tact, which in turn required time.

Castiel’s jacket was hanging on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

“Would you like me to hang your coat?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Hmm, alright,” Castiel responded, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

You took in the room, noting the expensive looking rug and portraits. You had been surprised when you entered the neighborhood, seeing the grand houses with their turrets and pristine gardens. Running a hand along the wall panel, you thought of how you would have loved to grow up in a house such as this.

“Did you rent this?”

“It is a friend’s,” Castiel responded, coming closer. “May I get you a drink?”

Clearing your throat, you shook your head, meeting his eyes. You could see the scrutiny beginning to sink in and you knew you needed to move quickly. It was like plunging into cold water being faced with him there knowing what you were about to try to do. But it was crucial that you did this to return to your normal life and that is what gave you the courage to do so.

Facing him fully, you told him, “I have something for you.” You reached into your purse and pulled out the neatly wrapped package containing the bone knife.

His lips curled at the sight of the parcel. “Well, now. How the tables have turned. You have never bestowed me with a gift. Have I rubbed off on you?” He gave you a sly look as he untied the bow. “Although, unlike you, I intend to make use of your well thought out gift.”

You elected to stay quiet as he unwrapped the gift.

His eyes widened in surprise, peering into the box. Reaching in, he began to ask, “Is this…”

Flicking his gaze to you, he murmured in awe, “Bone?”

You confirmed stoically, “The bone from Mesopotamia, as a matter of fact. Not all of it of course, but…” you trailed off.

Castiel was still staring down at it, turning it this way and that slowly, drinking in the sight. A wide grin spread, and he moved to speak but you cut in.

“It comes with a price.”

His smile faltered. “I think you misinterpret the meaning of a gift, kitten.”

“Do you not have reasons for giving me gifts? I believe you expect to woo me to your side when you do.”

“Touche… go on.”

Straightening your back, you told him firmly, “Please stop killing people and involving me.”

He let out a bark of a laugh immediately and you bristled at his curt dismissal of your request. His fingers wrapped tighter around the bone knife, still chuckling to himself.

You kept your eyes trained on him as he placed it back in the box and placed it on the table beside him. Gaze flicking back to you, he moved his arms behind his back and closed the space between the two of you. His musk wove around you at the proximity, your mind fleeting thinking of his arm entwined with yours at the music hall and how you had been enticed by the fragrance then. Now, it made your skin crawl because you were terrified of how he was going to react.

“Kitten. Not only do you obviously listen to me when I talk – I am impressed you remembered my frustration with the location of this artifact – but you went out of your way to bring it to me. You contacted me to do so. I am smitten to say the least. Now, how am I to just… leave us be after this?”

Fear tugged at you hearing him declare that he had no intention of leaving you alone. Despite your fear, you knew you had to continue. This had to be done.

Pushing on, you told him unshakably, “Castiel. It is meant to be a parting gift. That is my wish.”

Castiel’s expression was impassive, his eyes running over your face. It was as if he was waiting for you to break out into a laugh and tell him you were only joking. Every nerve in your body was on alert, ready to bolt if you needed to.

Licking his bottom lip, Castiel inhaled and exhaled slowly. “May I ask why?”

“Our relationship is unstable.”

A small laugh left his lips, as he swung his arm out in gesture to the room. “What a coincidence. I have the deed to the house. We can be stable here. You and me.”

You stammered, “What?”

“I acquired it. Through some forceful means, yes, but I have it.”

He was not getting it. You tried again, trying to sound as firm as you could, “Castiel, I got this gift as closure. I—”

“You do not understand,” Castiel cut in and you closed your mouth as he rushed to explain. “This house could be ours. Permanently. The people here lived owed me a lot of money. So, I came to collect, and they did not have it and they had been dragging their feet for far too long. Really, they were unwilling to pay and it was getting tiresome pretending otherwise. So, I made the decision and they are gone.”

Closing your eyes, you sighed, almost too afraid to ask. “Gone?”

“Dead.”

You turned to leave, not wanting to hear another word. Castiel reached out though, grasping your arm tightly, preventing you from leaving. You turned to him startled; he looked desperate.

“You did not complain about that at the last house in Hot Springs.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded.

Castiel exhaled loudly, “Well, really I never told you about it. But there had been others who had originally rented out the house and well, I wanted it for you, kitten. It truly was the best house on the lake. So, I got rid of them so we could enjoy time together. And we did! We had a wonderful time.”

Flabbergasted, you blubbered, “Y-y-you what?”

“Killed them,” Castiel told you simply. “Weighted them and dropped them in the middle of the lake. We were such nice house guests and the owners were none the wiser it was not the people who had actually paid to be there. And do not worry your pretty little head because I made sure all the security cameras were on loop, so they never saw who was there.”

You had been at a murder scene. You had slept in a bed at a murder scene.

“So, this is not really any different. And we can be happy here, there is no check out time pressing down on us to rush our time together.”

“No,” you said weakly. Shaking your head slowly, you gained the courage to repeat louder. “No. No we can’t.”

“Yes, we can,” Castiel countered, leaning in closer.

“You’re unstable, Castiel. Not just this relationship. It’s you.” He looked stung, his mouth opening and closing in astonishment. You yanked your arm away and said, “I told you it was sick to send me body parts but then somehow you think I’ll be okay with you murdering people so I can have a house? And you want me to live in this house where you murdered someone, and the cops will surely come looking? Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Y/N, you do not know what you are saying.”

“I am sick of playing games. I am sick of being afraid all of the time!”

Stunned, Castiel took a step back, staring at you as if he did not know you. He recovered, his jaw tight as he stepped back towards you and you refused to step away from him, despite the fact your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest.

“You? Afraid? You asked for tonight! I thought it meant something that you asked! I thought it was going to be a turning point for us, a positive one!” Castiel fumbled, pulling a small box of out of his pocket and your eyes widened in shock. A strong urge to throw up was crawling up your throat, the shock overtaking you quickly as he went to one knee, revealing the diamond ring. “I wanted this night to be memorable. I wanted to tell you how I would like to treat you for the rest of your life, cherish you. Truly. We could grow with each other and make each other better versions of ourselves. I would be happy as long as you were by my side and I hoped you would say the same of me. It could just be you and me if that is your wish…”

He stalled, seeing the look on your face. You did not have to say anything for him to know this was not going the way he thought it was going to. And you were realizing in full how foolish it was to think you could get you out of his mind.

Clearing his throat, Castiel stood up, closing the box. He played with the box in his hands, standing stiffly. “You know, most people appreciate diamonds.” He suddenly tossed the ring unceremoniously on the table, sighing loudly. Glaring at you, he sneered, “Granted, you never wear any of the other jewelry I have sent you, so I should not be surprised.”

His whole demeanor was screaming at you to run.

“I’m going to leave,” you told him shakily, tears pricking.

Castiel continued staring at you, face void of any emotion. You heard his phone buzz in his pocket, and he reached in, pulling it out, looking down at the screen.

A loud scoff left his mouth, his gaze snapping back to you. “Well, it seems your ride is ‘hiding’ outside anyway. I am sure the three of you constructed this… atrocious way to completely destroy this wonderful evening.” You opened your mouth to say something, but he snapped, finally showing some type of emotion, “No, do not speak. Just go.”

He did not have to tell you twice. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting to find him there reaching out to yank you back into the depths of the house and do away with you just like he had done with the owners. The late sun was security as you stepped out of the house, your feet picking up speed, not quite to a run though.

Tears were falling freely now, choked sobs leaving you as the fear engulfed you.

Sam was halfway out of the Impala when he saw the state of you. “What—”

“Get back in,” you cried. “I just – we need to leave.”

You all but collapsed in the back seat of the car, curling up into a small ball, trying to stifle your cries.

The fear was swirling inside, you well aware you had just made this situation far worse.

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas

#castiel x reader #psycho!cas #psycho!castiel #castiel fic #spn fic #supernatural fic #spn au #my shit

30 notes · View notes

skywalkingthegalaxy · 4 years ago

Text

The Binary Stars Chapter 1

So another Mandalorian Fic out of the thousands that are written. Right? So I decided to get on this train because of the obvious. So I hope you all enjoy and here’s hoping that people will have fun reading! If you would like to be tagged please let me know! And I’ll see y’all later!

Just attach this wire and….

And…

Anytime now please.

Nothing. Hmmm. Maybe just needs a little more aggression? Smacking the panel as the windmill turned back on and began spinning. With technology sometimes a little tap can fix it nicely.

Closing the electric panel to see that the only blurg in her fence was sound asleep. These Blurrgs including the one he’s riding towards the ship. They keep bitting the power lines and if one more does it I’m going to shoot her and make a nice stew.

Speaking of Kuiil he should be back by now from seeing if the ship was here for the bounty. He’s either being friendly or is taking a very long time riding back. Since the sun was setting he probably stopped to watch the sunset for a little bit. I’ll go get the tea ready at least for him when he gets back, and get an extra cup for the possible stranger coming to join us tonight.

Looking out to see Kuiil with a stranger following behind him. Must be another bounty hunter after this client that’s making Kuiil all sorts of upset. He doesn’t enjoy the violence which I don’t blame him for of course. After being enslaved for so long I imagine the taste of freedom is wonderful.

“Annika!” Kuiil yelled as I put my tool bag on my back then began climbing down the windmill. Landing on the ground to wait for them to approach me. That makes...twenty...there was the human with the symbiotic arm..twenty two. That is bounty hunter number twenty two attempting to capture this target. Maybe this time he’ll be able to catch the target and get these raiders off the planet.

“Twenty two. Congratulations your number twenty two on those who’ve attempted the bounty.” Commenting for them to stop right in front of me.

“We will discuss inside.” Kuiil told the bounty hunter as the Blurrg sniffed my hand.

“Your blurrgs keep chewing through the power lines and eventually it’s going to end up killing one of them.” Commenting as Kuiil got down as the bounty hunter was looking directly at me.

“Welcome to Arvala 7. You’ll be comfortable down here till morning when we head out.” Motioning him to follow me as we began walking inside.

Kuiil was first inside already getting the tea ready for the bounty hunter to join us. I think the spare cot is still up from the last one that came through seeking this target. My gut is telling me that this bounty hunter in particular may actually get the job done.

The bounty hunter sat down at the table as I put down my tool bag next to me then sat down. He’s got some shiny helmet. I'll give him that much. Beskar which makes sense as it’s practically indestructible. Impressive. I’ve been studying my metals and other elemental stuff these past few weeks.

“Annika.” I held up my hand to him but he looked over than back over at Kuiil. Guess he ain’t too friendly.

“He’s a Mandalorian.” Ah. That makes sense with the armor and the stoic personality. Though the few stories Kuiil has told me I truly thought he would have brought more weapons. Not just a rifle and a blaster. Then again. If you’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy then you may not need much to get the job done.

“Many have passed through, they seek the same as you.”

“Did you help them?”

“Yes. They died.”

“Well, then I don’t know if I want your help.” Looking up as I stared directly at him.

“You do.” I commented as Kuiil handed me my cup and then to the mandalorian.

“We can show you the encampment of where it’s being held. And you’re going to need an extra body in order to get the job done.” Taking a sip as the warmth of it made me relax a little.

“What’s your cut then?”

“Half.”

“Half the bounty to guide? And volunteering to help? Seems steep.” Relax there shiny I don’t want payment. This has been sort of keeping my skills up to date so I don’t become weak.

“No. Half of the blurrg you helped capture.”

“The blurrg? You can keep them both.”

“No. You will need one. To ride. The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

“I don’t know how to ride blurrg.”

“I have spoken.” He poured himself the tea as the Mandalorian put down his cup. Right. They can’t take off their armor so there’s no way he would drink in front of us.

“It’s not hard. As long as you have some sort of good balance you’ll be able to ride it easily.” Telling him as he sighed.

Nighttime fell over the farm as I turned on the light underneath the canopy. Kuiil is dead asleep inside and rather not work on my weapons with him trying to sleep. My blaster needs some calibration for tomorrow. Rather not go in there with a blaster that can’t fire correctly.

The Mandalorian came out of the hut to start walking over to me, grabbing my poncho to then cover up my upper body.

“Can’t sleep?” Asking as I began taking off the barrel of the gun.

“Not really.” Motioning my head for him to sit on the spare stool.

“Feel free to sit here till you feel like falling asleep.” Telling him as I too off the barrel then continued from there.

“Do you clean your blaster often?” He looked down to put it on the work table.

“Better than what I expected. Here.” Handing him a spare pipe cleaner for him to take it. He began taking his gun apart as I began cleaning the barrel.

“How’d you end up all the way out here?” Sticking the barrel pipe down to start moving it up and down to get the gunk out.

“I was on a refugee ship coming out here to drop off people in the outer rim. Kuiil was sitting alone when a group of ass holes thought it would be funny to try to jump him. Beat them up and in return he offered me a home. Make sure you get around the gears.” Telling him as I grabbed my cleaning rag. We sat there in silence for the next few minutes while we continued to clean our weapons.

“What should I be expecting tomorrow?” Asking me as I put down my rag.

“About thirty to forty. One huge turret and an eagerness to keep whatever they have in that compound. The one time I went we made it a good way through but he was killed then they brought out the turret. Can’t exactly take a turret out by myself along with thirty to forty guards.” Telling him which made him stop cleaning and from what I can guess is thinking about strategy.

“Here.” Clearing a space then started moving around the pieces of my rifle to give him a visual layout.

“So according to their layout. This is where the asset is supposedly held in the main building. The rest of the buildings on the side is where these thirty to forty guards will end up coming out. A frontal assault is a horrible idea from a past mistake.” The Mandalorian began looking over the really bad layout of the compound.

“Now the compound is in the middle of the rock hills so there’s a chance for an attack from each side. But you’re the Mandalorian, I'll leave that up to you.”

“Does the main door always stay shut?”

“No. But they will shut it when we attack due to whatever this asset is, it’s worth a lot to whoever is paying the bounty. Can I know who the one is paying for this asset?”

“The Empire. What’s left of them in the universe.” The Empire? I...I didn’t think they were even around anymore. Figured the New Republic would’ve taken care of them by now. The outer rim must not be their top priority and if any planet isn’t Coruscant they don’t matter.

“Well I’ll let you get to thinking Mandalorian. Good night.” Getting up to leave my blaster apart on the work table.

*The Next Morning*

I sat under the canopy again to put together the blaster I left apart. After I finished putting back my blaster together I began working on my armor for the assault that was about to happen at the compound. My left shoulder plate just loves popping off after a few beams hit it. And rather not deal with an open wound in the middle of a firefight.

Putting it back on my shoulder for it to stay nicely on there now. Moving my arm around to see The Mandalorian and Kuiil walking towards the wild Blurrg. Hopefully we can get this done and be home by supper.

Hearing him grunting for my head to turn and see him on the ground. Oof. Who would’ve guessed that he lacked patience. Not that I haven’t ever but still I figured this would’ve been an easy task. It’s just a blurrg.

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet.”

“Perhaps it remembers that I tried to roast him.”

“That is a female. The males are all eaten during mating.” It's really not a pretty site when that happens as well. Yuck.

The Mandalorian got back up to attempt again. He’s rushing it and not giving them the chance to feel a bond. Every sort of animal species requires trust in order to ride and she’s a wild blurrg. Watching him fall off once again made Kuiil shake his head at him.

“I don’t have time for this. Do you have a landspeeder or a Speeder bike that I could hire?”

“You are Mandalorian. Your ancestors rode the great Mythosaur. Surely you can ride this young foal.” He’s not wrong. It’s just an animal that needs to make sure you’re not going to harm them.

See. They just need to make sure you’re not going to kill them! Clapping my hands together as he began riding around on the Blurrg. It just takes a minute to get a good grip and balance on these things. Truth be told I’d rather walk and jump around on the gorges for a little bit. Yet here we are.

Placing my foot on the table to grab my holstered knife into the boot. Next putting on my leg holster as I clipped it together. The Mandalorian came up to stand next to me to make sure he had everything.

“That a amban rifle?” Asking as he turned his head to look at it.

“Impressive.” Getting down on the ground to grab my gun case. Standing back up to see him still looking directly at me.

“Don’t worry I’m not gonna take it.” Assuring him as I opened my gun case to pull out my DC-15LE. Snagged it on that refugee ship that was making its way out here. I imagine the Empire isn’t going to work their way out here to take it back.

“You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to.” He commented as I placed the rifle over my head and snuggled it tight around my chest.

“It’s not a matter of wanting. It’s a matter that you’re going to need my help.” Grabbing my shawl to wrap around my chest.

“Have you always helped the other bounties?” We began walking out and heading towards the Blurrgs.

“Only the last one. Everyone else I just assumed that they failed and were killed. But it’s been upsetting Kuiil with his peace and quiet being disturbed. So now I figured why not help a little to get this land to quiet down.” Walking past him then towards the blurrgs.

“Trust me Mandalorian. If I wanted you dead it would’ve happened already.” Winking as we turned the blurrg to start riding off.

Passing through the cracks of the planet and into the rocky hills that hid the compound. Pretty decent spot to keep an asset because from the air it looks just too busy. Not to mention who wants to make the effort to climb rocky hills and cliffs just for an asset.

We should be getting close. You can see the remaining blasters and the smell of those who’ve attempted the bounty. The stench of these bodies never goes away, it only gets far worse and I can’t stand the smell. Slowing down the Blurrg for Kuiil to point towards the compound.

“That is where you’ll find your quarry.” The Mandalorian held out a small sack full of credits for Kuiil to decline it.

“Please. You deserve this.” Kuiil looked up into the landscape and sighed.

“Since these ones arrived, this territory has been an endless stream of mercenaries seeking reward and bringing destruction.”

“Then why did you guide me?”

“They do not belong here. Those that live here come to seek peace. There will be no peace until they’re gone.”

“Then why do you help?”

“I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only read the stories. If they are true, you will make quick work of it. Then there will again be peace.”

“I have spoken.” Watching Kuiil ride off as we dismounted the Blurrgs.

“The Blurrgs should stay here till we get back. Then we’ll go our separate ways.” The Mandalorian nodded as we began walking towards the edge of the cliff.

We laid down on top of the rocks as he got a closer view on the compound. Last time it was swamped with guards and some huge turret was directly at the entrance of the compound. Pulling out my electrobinoculars to get a good look at the entrance. So far it looks approachable and no heavy artillery in the main entrance.

“They usually have some sort of heavy turret.” Where is it?

“How many do you see?” The Mandalorian asked as I did a quick headcount from what I could see.

“About twenty from what I see. But without that turret it’ll be easier than before and is that a droid?” Double checking with my electrobinoculars to get a closer look.

“Oh no. Bounty droid.” Shaking his head for us to get up from the cliff. Watching the droid going into the compound and taking out the soldiers one by one. Wow this is the first bounty droid I’ve ever seen and it’s sort of impressive.

We began climbing down the cliff as quick as we could to see the droid was making his way through the compound. If he gets to the asset first I’m going to use him for spare parts! Climbing then turned into sliding down the hill and reaching the bottom. He was up first as he offered his hand to help me up. Getting up for us to walk towards the gunfire. Guess the droid is already making his dent in the compound!

“IG unit stand down!” The droid immediately shot him and sent him flying back. It held it’s gun up at me as I immediately pulled out my blaster.

“I’m in the guild!” The Mandalorian held up the tracker. Offering him my hand to help him off the ground.

“You are a Guild member? I thought I was the only one on assignment.”

“You alright?” Asking him for him to nod.

“That makes two of us.” We got behind the pillars waiting for them to come out from the doors.

“So much for the element of surprise.”

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.” Excuse me? Since when does a droid..what!

“Unless I’m mistaken, you are, as of yet, empty-handed.” Gottem there.

“This is true.” We both kept poking our heads out to see if anymore of the guards coming from the building.

“I have a suggestion.”

“Proceed.”

“We split the reward.”

“This is acceptable.” Thank goodness.

“Great. Now let’s regroup, out of harm's way, and form a plan.” They’re going to come anytime now! I’d like to be kept alive during this whole ordeal!

“I will of course receive the reputation merits associated with the mission.”

“Can we talk about this later gentlemen!” Yelling as they were beginning to take formation.

“I require an answer if I am to proceed.. ALERT ALERT ALERT!” Shit shit shit!

They started firing down on us from the roof of the compounds as more were coming out of the buildings. The bounty droid kept his stance in the middle of the battlefield as more and more were coming out of the buildings. The Mandalorian and I kept ourselves behind the pillars as I grabbed my rifle from my back. Loading and looking down the small scope to start firing back at the men.

“We gotta get to the door.” The Mandalorian yelled as he began moving to the next piller. I followed him as he turned his head up. Looking up to see one of them on the rooftop as I shot him down.

The bounty droid was focusing on every enemy for the two of us to work our way around to the door. This is going to work I think holy shit! The door opened behind me for one of the guards to tackle me. Kicking him in the gut for the Mandalorian to shoot him right in the head. Rolling over to behind the metal barrier to then sit up.

He looked at the tracker as it was still behind the main door. Glad to know that they haven’t evacuated it. I imagine they think they’ll kill us and move on. Not this time! The three of us began moving towards the metal door as the droid stood and began walking right in the middle of the path firing at them. What droid holy crap!

“Wow. I’ve never seen a droid move like that.” Commenting as I looked up to see two were about to fire down on us.

“Up top!” We both yelled as he got behind the opposite pillar.

The firing began to stop to see them beginning to gather up in the center of the compound. Why’d they stop? Is this when the turret is coming out? I’ve gotten this the last time and now it’s just a waiting game!

They began raining fire down on us again as we both kept out heads behind the pillar. Each time we would try to fire back the pillar would be shot to pieces right before we could fight back!

“It appears we are trapped. I will initiate self-destruct sequencing.” SELF WHAT!?

“Whoa you’re what?” We both stopped and were ready to shoot this droid in order to save our asses.

“Don’t you dare blow up!” Yelling at him as we kept trying to get a good shot of one of the guards.

“Manufactures Protocol dictates I cannot be captured. I must self-destruct.”

“If you blow up right now I will use your parts for my toilet!” I yelled as the Mandalorian looked over at the control panel.

“You two cover me!” Nodding as The droid was the first one out to start firing back. Landing a shot into the left one on the roof. They’re too much fire shit! More blasts were going past me than I could fight back!

“Go go go there’s too many!” I stood on the opposite side of the pillar as I was ready to go back out and face them.

“They got us pinned!” He yelled as I landed another target that was standing in the doorway.

“No shit!” Yelling as I ducked back into cover. They began cheering as the firing stopped once again.

“Do not self-destruct! We are shooting our way out!” The Mandalorian ordered as we all stepped out from the pillars.

THERE IT IS!

“Okay.” Is all he said for us to duck back.

“New plan!”

“What plan!” Screw it! I’m using it and if that means trouble brought down on me then screw it! Getting shot at like this is getting infuriating. Even last time wasn’t this bad and there’s three of us! Cracking my neck as I dropped down my rifle and taking off my poncho.

“Mandalorian! Get ready to run for that turret!” Cracking my thumbs and fingers to then step out.

“Papo. I can’t do it!”

“Yes you can.” Holding up my hands as I tried once more.

“The Gods have given you a duty my child. To protect those who can not protect themselves.”

“But it feels like a weapon.”

“Sometimes one must fight to save those who are in need. Concrete Annika. You’re the only one making it difficult.”

“It’s as light as air.” Closing my eyes as I began to concentrate.

As light as air.

As light as air!

Raising my hands to take in a very big breath. Turning my eyes into a bright white My white energy began glowring force field appearing before me as it was taking all the heat from the laser turret. The blast was bouncing all over for the shield to grow big enough for everyone to focus on it. He was staring at me as I looked over at him.

“GO!” Yelling as the droid went running from the other side and was immediately shot into the corner. The Mandalorian went around to then pull the turret towards him. Dissolving the shield as I watched him take out the rest of the compound.

Here it comes.

My breathing began to hurt as my lungs began to tighten up. This tends to happen when I don’t use this ability after a while. It feels like my body just sorts of tightens up for a little bit. Then it leads to the coughing which hurts worse.

“You okay?” The Mandalorian asked as I spat out the blood that came up. Whipping any remaining blood as I caught my breath.

“Give me a second. Sometimes my body doesn’t like it when I do that.” Chuckling at myself as I shook my head. There we go. All better.

“That was impressive you two.” The droid commented as I nodded.

“Thanks.” He nodded as he looked over at the door.

“Well, now we just need to get the door open.” We all starred at the door, then shifted our stance towards the turret. That’ll work.

“You two go in there and get the asset. I’ll stay out here and make sure no more come out to get us.” Ordering as I walked over to the turret and climbed on. I’ve been waiting to shoot this thing since I first saw it.

Flipping the switch for the turret to charge back up. Pulling back the trigger as I began shooting all across the door. It was shaking my entire body as I was super ecstatic at shooting at this door! YEAH!!! WHOOOOAAAA!!!

Now done.

The door fell over as the two of them stood in the doorway. For a few weeks I thought we weren’t going to be able to get rid of these people. All it took was just the three of us and some pure luck.

Now Kuiil can be at peace once again and I go..back to my life. Leaning against the pillar to go into my bag and pulled out my canteen of water. Taking a few sips to close the lid of the canteen. A shot rang out from the inside as I came running in to see the droid with a bullet in it’s head.

A little hand was poking out from the metal egg and was reaching for the Mandalorian. Is that a child?

Taglist:

@mirkwoodshewolf

4 notes · View notes

canadian-riddler · 5 years ago

Text

Portal: The Proposition

By Indiana

Characters: Wheatley, GLaDOS, Chell

Synopsis: If GLaDOS had focused on the right person, perhaps the entirety of Portal 2 could have been avoided…

Setting: Chapter 5: The Escape

It was the culmination of simply hours of work.

They’d shut off her neurotoxin. Swapped out her deadly turrets for crap ones. And now they had her back against the wall. Sort of. She didn’t really have a back, and she was in the middle of the room, and still moved about quite freely - or as freely as one could when attached to the ceiling - but still. They had her pinned. She was at their mercy! But they had none. So she was at their nothing.

“Go on,” he urged the test subject who was, as usual, taking her sweet time completing their plan. Honestly. How he had managed to get them here in the first place was simply a miracle. She was so inclined to just stand about, and glower, and wait for him to tell her which place to go or which thing to do or where to stand so that she could fail to catch him, and honestly, it was all very exhausting. Still. Here they were, with the mighty Central Core in their grasp. She would not be machinating her way out of this one! “Press it!”

“Don’t - wait,” GLaDOS said suddenly, and he heard her look up sharply. “Sphere.”

“...Yes?” Wheatley asked tentatively, unsure why she was paying him mind now. He was, you know, sort of stuck. On this stick. Waiting.

“Why are you here? And what are you doing with her?”

“Oh,” said Wheatley. “Um… bad news. All the other humans’ve got a pretty major case of… they’re dead. All the boxes of test subjects you’ve got stored in the back? All dead. She was the only one left. I dunno who she is. Didn’t even know you’d met before! She’s fairly brain-damaged, by the way. Not sure if she’s actually going to figure out how to press that button. Mostly likes jumping, good at jumping. This button may or may not be a bit beyond her.”

“I see,” GLaDOS said. “You know. I’ve just thought of something. Would you like to hear it?”

“Uh…” This seemed to be sort of a trick question. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he would want to hear her out, but at the same time she was being quite reasonable. Much more so than all the time she’d spent on her nutty speeches about cake and computer parts. “Okay.”

“I have a proposition for you,” she said. “But in order to tell you what it is, I’m going to have to ask you to remove yourself from that port. As a gesture of mutual goodwill. You understand.”

Hm. Sounded like a trap, honestly. At the same time, though, he really wanted to know what the proposition was. Sounded interesting. Much more interesting than this sitting about waiting for the human to get around to button-pressing. “What sort of um, of proposition?”

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

“And you promise you won’t kill me, if I come off of here?”

“I promise,” GLaDOS told him, and she sounded so reassuring that he saw no reason for her to be lying. “I just want to discuss this like the mature, reasonable, intelligent people we are. Face-to-face. No killing or threatening with core transfers.”

Well, he was quite mature and reasonable and intelligent, himself, and so he removed himself from the port as she had asked and from one of the ceiling panels appeared a management rail for him to attach himself to. Ah, excellent! She was being quite a thoughtful host, actually. Out of the corner of his optic he saw the test subject’s hand slam down upon the button at last, but it was already receding into the floor and as a result quite useless. “Now,” GLaDOS said, again in that reassuring voice, “what, exactly, was your plan? After killing me, I mean. We can skip that part.”

“Well,” said Wheatley, “I dunno what her plan was, but I was trying to leave. A bit difficult when you’re um, when you’re stuck all the way out there with the smelly humans and the management rail just sort of runs ‘round in circles. Not much to do when there’s no power and ev’ryone’s dead, honestly. Oh! And the facility was going to explode! Nearly forgot about that. Definitely did not want to stick around for that bit. Would definitely rather live.”

“Is that all you wanted?” GLaDOS said. “Well. You should have just asked. Of course I’ll allow you to leave. In fact, I’ll do it right now.”

“Oh,” said Wheatley, a little surprised it had been this easy. “I… s’pose I could’ve thought of that. Though I didn’t know you were up for, y’know, talking. You always seemed more like the kill now, talk later type.”

“Little Sphere,” GLaDOS said, curving around behind him in sort of a maternal way, “you showed up with the human that killed me in tow. I’m sure if it had been me who appeared to be working with the very person who had heartlessly destroyed you, you would have done the same thing.”

“Probably,” admitted Wheatley, turning to look at her. “You sort of… sort of killed me before I could bring up that I don’t even know her, though. Honest! I don’t! She’s just, she’s the only one I could find still alive! Power outage got to all the rest.”

“You must have gone through a great deal all these years. Attempting to hold the facility together all on your own.”

“I have!” Wheatley blurted out. “And all the others, they didn’t even realise it! Just kept ragging on me about how I got the worst job. Kept saying it was because I was incompetent and stupid, can you believe that?”

“No,” said GLaDOS, shaking her core sadly. “I can’t.”

“They always gave me the worst jobs!” he continued. “‘Do that guy’s paperwork,’ they said. ‘Stare at this button and don’t press it,’ they said. ‘Make sure the computer keeps all those humans alive’, they said. Those bloody humans aren’t even still fresh! They’ve all gone rotten! Expired years ago! How’m I supposed to keep stale humans alive!? I’m not, I’m not a wizard!”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that now,” GLaDOS told him. “I’m back and I will take care of everything. As for you… well. I think you should finally get what you deserve.”

He perked up hopefully. “I’d love that, honestly. Bloody well earned it by now, I’d say.”

“You certainly have.” From beneath the floor came a lift, and as he watched the door slid open invitingly. “That will take you straight to the surface. No tricks.”

“Wait,” he said, frowning. “Didn’t you say this was a… a proposition? That’s a deal, yeah?”

“Oh,” GLaDOS said, a syllable of gentle dismissal, “all I want is to keep her.” She gestured her core in the direction of the test subject. “We have… unfinished business. And you won’t be needing her anymore.”

Wheatley shrugged. “Be good to be rid of her, honestly. D’you know I did all the work, getting us here? She couldn’t even shut off your turrets without my help. Useless, honestly. And she just frowns all the time. Unpleasant. We were s’posed to be a team, a bit of courtesy should’ve been extended. In. My direction. She was quite rude, s’what I’m trying to say.”

“Oh, I know,” said GLaDOS, who sounded like she did indeed know. “Now. Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

It seemed as good a time as any, so Wheatley allowed GLaDOS to remove him from the management rail with one of her claws and put him inside of the lift, after which she turned her attention to the human. She had finally stopped crinkling up her face and was now staring at him with a sort of… horrified expression. Oh, so now she was going to stop grimacing at him. Now, when he’d negotiated his exit by having a calm and reasonable conversation with GLaDOS instead of tramping all about her facility with the intent to kill her. Humans. Never thought of the obvious solutions.

“Now,” said GLaDOS with great relish as the door to the lift slid closed, “where were we…”

A couple of minutes later the door opened onto a great swath of wheat, and the jolt of the lift hitting the top of the shaft caused him to roll out into it. Behind him, he heard the heavy clang of a metal door slamming closed, and it was at this time he realised the biggest hole in his plan.

There were no management rails outside.

There appeared to be no ports, either, or other people, or anything really except for the tall stalks swaying above him and the great hot sun beating down upon his chassis. Oh, that wasn’t good. None of this was good. None of it at all.

“Hello?” he called as loudly as he could. “I’m sort of… I’m stuck. Is there any way we can, y’know, sort this out? Might I borrow some legs, or something? Just so I can get out of here. Sort of… sort of stuck. Right here. On the doorstep.”

It occurred to him that the test subject had legs, and quite sturdy ones too, but how was he to let her know he needed help? Or… or to get her to care, this time, since he’d...

Oh, bollocks.

“She tricked me,” Wheatley said to the wheat. “She bloody tricked me! She knew! She knew what she was sending me off to!”

And, worse, he had fallen for it. No, no. That wasn’t quite right. He closed his optic against the relentless, insufferable heat bearing down upon him.

He’d gotten what he deserved, exactly as GLaDOS had promised.

Author’s note

Wheatley has a voice line in which he says, “Oh! I’ve just had one idea, which is that I could pretend to her that I’ve captured you, and give you over and she’ll kill you, but I could go on… living. So, what’s your view on that?” This is, to me, a massive and obvious indicator that Wheatley does not care about Chell beyond serving his own interests and, if GLaDOS had offered, he would have happily sold her out in exchange for his own life. So that’s what they do here.

#Wheatley #GLaDOS #Chell #Portal 2 #fanfic from Indy #on AO3 and whatever too ofc just no links allowed

35 notes · View notes

pinkevilbobdoesthings · 5 years ago

Text

Okay so I forgot to post it here, so here it is now @eyeloch‘s birthday fic “Take Me Far, Far Away From Here”.

____

Clang! Clunk! RATTLERATTLERATTLE!!! HISSSSSSS!!! “Is the engine supposed to make that kind of noise?” Beau called out.

“Not really!” Jester shouted back. The engine on the MISTake had been on its last legs for a long while, but Jester had always managed to keep it going for one more trip. Though this time, it might be the last one.

Fjord poked his head out of the cockpit. "Well, can you fix it?"

"Kind of? I mean I can keep us from dropping out of space and kind of moving forward," Jester said, "but beyond that we're going to need to get supplies to fix it or yo know, actually get a new engine that works."

"That's out of our budget," Fjord said.

Jester groaned. It was always out of their budget. They ran a bunch of small jobs around the empire, but never seemed to be able to save enough to give the MISTake the upgrades it needed. "Fine, I should be able to get some odds and ends to fix it when we get to Zadash station. We're close right?"

An awkward silence filled the air. "Don't tell me Fjord got us lost again," Nott groaned from the gun turret. "I thought you had Caduceus navigate this time."

"He needed to take care of dinner," Beau said. "And he keeps turning off the maps on accident." Cad was the best cook Jester had ever met who was willing to work on a cramped, barely working ship, but technology was completely lost on the firbolg.

"It will be ready in 15 minutes," Cad called out.

"Why can't we just talk in the same room like normal people?!"

Jester shrugged. "I've been meaning to add in some com channels, but first I need a new engine."

"I know, I know." Fjord sighed. "We're close to an old outpost. It looks like it still has life support there, so we can dock there and it might even have the supplies we need."

"And if it doesn't, we can at least get out of this bucket," Nott said, and Jester had to agree. As much as she loved traveling around the galaxy with her friends, getting out of the ship was always a treat.

Normally, they would've gotten there in under an hour, but with the engine trouble, it nearly five hours to get to the outpost and Jester was ready to scream from pent up energy. She could not get out of the MISTake fast enough once they docked. Looking around, the outpost appeared to be completely abandoned. There was a little automated shop though. It had a little green screen that was grainy with a still image of a Firbolg on it. Words scrolled on the bottom of the screen. "Welcome to the Invulnerable Vagrant. I am Pumat Sol. It's a pleasure to help you."

Nott whistled. "They got an old Pumat AI still? This place must've been pretty fancy."

"Yeah 200 years ago," Beau said. "No one uses those anymore."

“Maybe the prices are out of date and we can actually afford an engine?” Jester paused. “No actually, if they did the engine wouldn’t even work anymore.”

Fjord examined it. “The tech’s old, but the prices sure ain’t.” He winced as he clicked through the price listings. “Not that there’s much to choose from here. Maybe you could find what you need just lying about?”

Jester saluted Fjord. “Aye aye, captain.”

“Be sure to take a buddy,” Cad said in his soft low rumble.

“Nott! This is a job for true detectives!” Jester struck what she thought was an impressive pose and then took Nott’s hand.

The outpost was unbelievably old, but it didn’t feel haunted, just a little lonely and quiet. Like it was waiting for someone. Though really outposts and stations were just buildings, so really they couldn’t feel anything, but Jester thought that if they could, this one would be looking for a friend.

“So what are we looking for?” Nott asked.

“A metal tube thingy, some more bolts the size of your pinky, and a 5 cm thick metal sheet.” The exact materials would be better, but Jester had learned to do without after traveling so long with her friends.

Nott nodded. “Got it!”

Their footsteps echoed through the halls of the old outpost. It must've been abanodned for over a hundred years judging by the dust. There was something unsettling about it all. Jester didn't like it, but her and Nott were the most likely ones to find what they needed there. "I wonder what this place used to be," Jester said looking around.

"Most likely a scientific research station of some sort," Nott said.

"You think so?"

Nott nodded. "I've seen this sort of thing before. The rooms are more like dorms and there's not a lot of recreation options here, so that tells us that this wasn't meant for long terms of habitation," she explained. "So they probably just finished their research, but didn't see much point in packing up everything they had here."

"Oh, okay. So that means there might be a good chance of finding what we need here," Jester said relieved that they weren't just looking around the pooky halls for nothing. "So we just need to find where the labs are."

"Exactly," Nott said.

They picked up the pace as they wandered through the halls. It all looked the same until they reached the end of the hall and found a giant lab. Jester gasped at it. She never seen so much loose tech before. Almost none of it was bolted down. "This is the motherload." Her mind raced at how much money they make with just one haul. "We wouldn't even be able to fit it all in our hull."

"They were planning on coming back," Nott said looking around. "They wouldn't have left all of this if they were leaving for good."

"Why do you think they never came back?" Jester asked looking around the room. In the back of the room was a room of giant glass tubes. Most were opened.

Nott shrugged. "No idea. Could've been during the first Dynasty war. A lot of stuff got abandoned back then."

Jester examined the glass tubes. They were big enough for her to fit in. Actually, even Cad could fit in them. The ones that weren't opened were cracked and filled with some kind of gunk. Except for one. "Oh, there's something in this one." She rubbed the glass with her sleeve removing the dust and dirt and gasped. "There's someone in this one!"

"What?!" Nott rushed over. "What is he doing there?"

"He almost looks like he's sleeping," Jester said. He was thin and pale with long thick eyelashes. His hair was a rusty auburn. There was a sad beauty to him. "Do, do you think he might be dead?"

Nott backed away from the tube. "I don't know. If he were here all this time, he should be, but maybe he got trapped. Maybe all those tubes are traps."

"Can you run a scan on them?" Jester asked.

Nott already had her scanner out and was reading the ticker tape it spat out. "No traps, but he is alive."

Jester stared at the man sleeping in the tube. She had so many questions about him, but there didn't seem to be any point in asking them. There was no levers or control panel and Jester couldn't see any cracks or openings for it. "I wonder what he's like," she said, placing her hand on the glass.

A hum echoed throughout the room and the glass heated up under Jester's hand. She pulled it back hissing from the heat of it. The hum grew louder as the tube opened and a fog rolled out of it. The man still stood there seemingly asleep, but then began coughing. He leaned forward losing his balance and Jester caught him.

"Are you okay?" Jester asked.

He kept coughing so hard Jester was afraid that he would hurt himself. Carefully, Jester set him down so that he was sitting down on the ground. His coughing fit fading, he looked up at Nott and Jester a fear in his eyes, and said something in a language Jester never heard before.

"I don't think he speaks common," Nott said looking a little disappointed.

Jester pulled out her water flask and gave it to the man and he took a sip from it still coughing a little, but not as hard as he had been earlier. "Common?" the man said with a heavy accent. "What language is common?"

"Um, the language you're speaking now is common," Jester pointed out.

He frowned. "No, this is tal’dorian. It's not even the most common language in the galaxy."

Nott frowned and looked over at Jester. "No, it’s the most common language there is. Everyone speaks it. What do you think is the most common language?"

"Zemnian, of course," the man said. "We’re even in the Zemnian Territories."

Jester shook her head. "No, this is the Dwendalian Empire. Nobody's spoken Zemnian in like forever and the territories fell apart back in the big war."

"Big war? What are you talking about?"

"The big war. Well the first big war. The one that the Dwendalian empire was born from," Nott said. "It changed the whole galaxy."

The man held his head in his hands. "How long has it been? What year is it?"

"836 PD," Jester said. She frowned at him. "Um, what year do you think it is?"

"653 PD," he said.

Nott whistled. "That's a long time."

"Ja, ja it is," the man said.

Jester bit her lip. "So um, why are you not dead?"

"Cryogenic freezing," he said, "I was supposed to be in there for just a few weeks. He said it would just be three weeks. It was just a test run. Something happened. Do you know what?"

Jester and Nott shook their heads. "No, we were wondering the same ourselves," Nott said.

"Our ship just landed here to see if we could get the stuff he needed to fix our engine," Jester said and then she stopped herself gasping. "We forgot to introduce ourselves! I'm Jester and this is Nott."

"Nott the Brave," Nott added.

The man stared at them for a second. "Caleb Widogast."

Jester grinned. "Nice to meet you Caleb!"

“Ja, it’s nice to meet you too,” Caleb said, though he didn’t look happy to meet them. He just looked vaguely sad. Now that he was out of the tube, Jester could tell that he was wearing some kind of pajamas. Also that he smelled.

“Can you step back?” Jester said. “You smell really bad.”

Caleb tried to stand up, but ended up falling to his knees. "I'm still weak from my freeze. I'm sorry."

Jester sighed. "It's okay, I can lift you even if you're super stinky." She scooped up Caleb in her arms and he let out a little yelp of surprise.

"Sorry," Caleb said his cheeks blushing. "I just wasn't expecting that."

"No one expects the Mighty!" Jester shouted.

Nott nodded. "Yeah!"

"I can see that," Caleb said. "You said your engine needed fixing, so you have a ship?"

"That's right," Nott said. "Jester's our mechanic and I'm the gunner."

Caleb frowned mouthing the word. "I don't know what you mean."

"I shoot the guns. The artillery? You know? Ratatatatatatatata pew pew bang!" Nott made an exploding sound.

"Oh right. There was no guns on civilians ships," Caleb said. "Are you military?"

Jester shook her head. "Nope, it's safer to have guns than not. There's a lot of pirates out in the galaxy nowadays."

"Oh." Caleb was giving it some thought when his breast pocket shivered and something rolled out of it. A small ball that was a little bit bigger than Nott’s fist rolled around Caleb's chest and up his arm.

Jester gasped. "What is that?"

"Frumpkin. My pet." And for once Caleb smiled. Frumpkin clicked and whirled and changed form into a little mechanical cat and that rubbed it's head against Caleb's cheek.

"He's amazing," Jester whispered.

Nott looked at it thoughtfully. "We could get some good money out of it. You don't see robots as sophisticated as that anymore."

Caleb held Frumpkin in his hands protectively. "He's not for sale. Besides, he's just a pet, a bobble. He's nothing fancy or special."

"A hundred plus years ago sure," Nott said. "But everything's been turned to war efforts. You don't get anything that nice that's just for fun." Frumpkin by himself was easily worth three engines.

"He's not for sale," Caleb said firmly.

Jester nodded gently to Caleb. "That's right, we won't sell him. There's enough tech in here to more than make up for keeping him. Unless we can't sell that either."

Caleb looked around. "Nein. This is just lab equipment. But I want to look at it before you sell any of it. Maybe it can tell me just what happened here. I don't see why the station would've been abandoned. Especially without waking me up."

"Oh." Jester couldn't help but feel bad for Caleb. He had been left behind, completely forgotten. "Well, you can join us then."

Nott frowned. "Do you think that Fjord would agree to this?"

Jester avoided looking at Nott. "Well, it's not like we can leave Caleb here. Besides, maybe he can be helpful."

"I can help you find the supplies here. If they didn't take the lab supplies, they probably wouldn't have taken the spare parts either," Caleb said.

“Then lead the way!”

***

Nott and Jester were definitely an unusual pair. Caleb didn’t know what Jester was, but Nott was obviously a goblin. Jester’s species must’ve been one that joined the territories, no empire now, after Caleb was put into the cryogenic freezer. She insisted on carrying him like a princess despite him insisting that his freeze weakness was temporary. Or at least Caleb hoped it was.

Caleb was the first humanoid test of cryogenic freezing. Before him, they tried it on a pair of cats for a couple of days. Both came out of the freezing fine, but both were weak and tired for a couple of hours. He had no idea what over a hundred years in the freezing tube would do to someone. So far he had a persistent cough, a weird numb feeling to his legs, and he had trouble moving them.

Maybe Caleb should question Nott and Jester more, but they seemed honest and the decay of the station backed them up. It was strange to see it all in such a state of disrepair. The Soltryce Station had once been a jewel in the territories’ crown. A state of the art science facility. And now it was just junk covered in dust.

“Which way do we go?” Jester asked when they got to a split in the hallway.

"That w-"Caleb started coughing again and Jester readjusted him patting his back. His coughing shook his everything and he just wished that it would stop.

Nott stood on her tiptoes staring at him. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"Ja," Caleb said coughing a bit more. "I'm fine. It's this way." He pointed to the left."

"If you need us to stop so you can rest, that's okay," Jester said.

Caleb shook his head. "Nein, I'm good. Once we're away from all this dust, I'll be fine. You shouldn't worry about me so much."

"Okay, but I don't think that cough sounds good. I'm kinda the ship doctor with Cad, so you should listen to me," Jester said. And for a seemingly light hearted person, she sounded incredibly serious.

"We need to get your supplies, ja? Then let's keep going. It's not that far from here." Caleb was grateful that that was the truth. If he was being honest, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep for real, but they needed to take care of this and Caleb needed to prove his worth.

They reached the warehouse with Nott exclaiming a curse. "This is a scrapper's wet dream."

Jester turned in a circle taking it all in. "They might have exactly what I need."

"The station was on the cutting edge, but repairs are always needed. But it's fine," Caleb said. "I don't think that anyone will notice anything missing."

Jester giggled. "Um, is it okay if I put you down?"

"Ja, I'm fine on my own," Caleb said. It was comfortable in her arms, but he would never admit it out loud. Besides, he preferred taking care of himself.

Gently and slowly, Jester set Caleb on the ground. "Okay, so if you need anything, let me know. I'm just getting what we need for the engine."

"Alright."

"Jester! Check this out!" Nott shouted from the aisles of hardware and tools.

"Coming!" Jester yelled running towards Nott.

Once alone, Caleb tried to stand up. Jester left him by a wall, so he leaned against it for support. "Ein, zwei, drei," he whispered to himself and then tried to stand, but nothing happened. His legs remained in the position Jester left him in. He moved his legs with his hands and tried again. Caleb remained on the floor. Cursing to himself, he tried for a third time, and for the third time, he was still on the floor. "%^&$!!!!!"

"Caleb!" Jester came running and nearly slipped getting to him. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Hot shame burned on his cheeks. "I couldn't get up."

"Here, I got you." Jester moved to pick him up.

"No." Caleb tried to move away, but he couldn't. "I'm sorry. I can't stand up." It was humiliating to admit it. He felt so broken, but Jester just looked at him with gentle understanding.

"Oh right, you were saying that it takes a while to warm up after being frozen. I'm sorry that it's taking so long," Jester said. "Do you want to wait a bit longer before we go back to the ship?"

The offer was tempting, but Caleb shook his head. "You go on ahead without me. You need to fix your engine. I'll catch up with you two once I'm ready to get up."

Jester frowned. "Cay-leb, we can't just leave you alone here. What if the station's haunted?"

"I can wait with him," Nott said.

"You don't need to. It's better if you two stay together since you don't know this station well," Caleb said. "I'm fine by myself."

Nott shook her head. "It's fine. I've got this." She pressed something on her wrist. "Hey, Beau? Can you send Cad and Fjord back here? We need some help. Youcanreplytothismessage."

The little wrist communicator crackled. "Why? ...Yeah I'll send them."

"It's a left, straight and a left at the third hall," Nott said to the communicator. "Oh and have Cad bring the med scanner."

"Med scanner? Nott, what happened? Did you blow up Jes-" the communicator crackled out as Nott turned it off.

Caleb stared at it. "Kinda clunky."

"Well, not all of us are from the golden age of tech," Nott said. "Is it true that they use to use star radiation to clear asteroid fields?"

"I guess? I never really paid attention to that side of things," Caleb admitted. "I was more on the theoretical side of things. Physics and the like."

Jester sat down next to Caleb and leaned forward. "What was it like living in the past?"

"I never considered it the past. Not until I woke today," Caleb said. "And I don't know what things are like for you now." Frumpkin spun slowly in his hands giving him something to focus on rather than his rising panic.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense." Jester frowned and then perked up. "Oh, oh I can tell you all about what the future is like and our ship."

Caleb smiled weakly. "I'd like that."

Jester began to paint a picture of a junky old ship with Nott occasionally interjecting. It sounded like a cramp and miserable living space, but Jester smiled widely and Nott got excited while talking about her tiny gun port.

The sounds of footsteps interrupted them, and a half orc entered the room followed by a fuzzy giant. "What did you do this time, Nott?" the half orc groaned.

"Nothing! Really, Fjord, you act like I'm the one that pressed a random red button and nearly blew us up," Nott said and Fjord, the half-orc, looked away awkwardly. "The med scans not for us, it's for Caleb."

Fjord jumped back when he noticed Caleb. "Who is that? There's people here?"

"Just me," Caleb said. He was trying not to stare, but his eyes kept wandering to the giant.

The giant smiled down at Caleb. “The name’s Caduceus Clay and that’s Fjord. Nice to meet you.”

“Caleb Widogast. The pleasure’s all mine,” Caleb said nervously.

Caduceus smiled again. Smiling seemed to come easy to him. “Now what seems to be the problem?”

“I … fell. It must’ve hurt my back.” Caleb ignored Jester and Nott staring at him. He couldn’t help that Nott and Jester knew that he was cryogenically frozen for over 100 years, but that was information he wanted to keep quiet. In the wrong hands, it could be very dangerous information. “I’m … having trouble standing up.”

“Let me just give you a quick scan.” Caduceus swept an old looking scanner over Caleb. It beeped and whirred while Caduceus stared at it. “Huh, this doesn’t make sense.”

Jester looked over his shoulder. “What doesn’t?”

“Says here a bundle of nerves got frozen in his spinal cord and that’s what’s stopping him from getting up.But that doesn’t make sense if he fell,” Caduceus said.

“Oh,” Jester said, “it must be on the fritz again. I’ll see if I can fix it on the ship.”

Caleb tried to keep calm, but he didn’t like the sound of frozen nerves. “If that thing were right, what would happen? Would the nerves just unfreeze and get better?”

Caduceus stared blankly at Caleb while Jester bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of nerves freezing to such an extent,” Jester said. “And well, there may be more damage done to them than just that.”

“But you just had a fall,” Caduceus said. He was hard to read, but Caleb had a feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.

“Ja, just a fall,” Caleb said.

Jester clapped her hands catching everyone’s attention. “Okay, so I still need to find one last thing for the engine and then I can go fix it. Fjord and Cad can help me carry everything I need and Nott can wait with Caleb while I fix the engine.”

Part of Caleb wanted to argue that he didn’t need to rest or be watched, but he knew that no one would listen to him. He just remained silent as Nott sat down next to him while the other three went to work. The two of them sat in companionable silence and watched the other three go about their business and then leave.

"I get it, you know," Nott said interrupting their silence. She sat with her knees to her chest and she hugged them close to herself. "Not wanting people to know about your past. Where you came from. I get it."

"Ja?" Caleb glanced at her and then went back to staring ahead of them.

She made a sound of agreement. "A lot of us on the MISTake have pasts we aren't ready to share. I mean Cad and Jester don't, they're both open books, but the rest of us. We get it. They might not admit it, but it's hard to share those sort of things."

"Ja, it is."

"So, you thinking about joining us?" Nott asked.

Caleb stared down at his legs. "I don't have much to offer you."

"Well, neither does Fjord, but he's our captain. Besides you must be pretty smart to be a physicist."

"I'm not that smart. I just studied hard. I read a lot. That's not talent," Caleb said.

"Keeping it all in your head is," Nott said. "My ... friend was the same way."

Caleb looked over at Nott. She was fiddling with the buttons on her dress. “Do, do you miss your friend?” He kicked himself as soon as he said it. It was obviously something she didn’t want to talk about.

“Sometimes.” Nott kept fiddling with the button. “But working on the MISTake helps distract me from that.”

“You don’t want me to be part of your crew,” Caleb said. “Not really.”

Nott shrugged. “Maybe, but that’s up to us to decide. You’re going to need a ride out of here anyways and it’s not like this is on a shuttle route.”

“I can’t pay for it,” Caleb said feeling useless. “You could use the space I take up to load up with stuff you can sell.”

“And never be forgiven by Jester. I don’t think I’d forgive myself either ditching you here,” Nott said. “Maybe there’s something you can help with on the ship.”

Caleb gave it some thought. “I can navigate a little. Unless maps have changed.”

Nott leaned forward. “Are you kidding me? You could be working off a 3,000 year old map and still be better than we got.”

“Then I guess you have a navigator.” A little weight lifted from his shoulders. Caleb would be able to earn his way to a populated station, then slip away into it and figure out what had happened while he was asleep. Jester and Nott seemed nice, but they knew too much and he didn’t know enough. And they didn’t deserve to put up with him. This was going to work.

***

When Jester went back to check on Caleb and Nott, the two of them were napping, leaning against each other. It was so cute Jester was almost tempted to leave them there, but she had fixed the engine already and Beau, Cad, and Fjord had loaded up the hull with as much tech as they could fit. So everyone was itching to get off the outpost.

“I’ll take Caleb and you get Nott,” Jester whispered to Cad.

Nott stirred a little when Cad picked her up, but settled back to sleep in his arms. The little goblin did so much for the crew and Jester knew that she didn't sleep much, so she was glad to see her sleeping.

Jester grabbed Caleb only for him to struggle. "Caleb, Caleb," Jester said shaking his shoulder. "It's just me. Jester."

Caleb's eyes snapped open and he stared at her for a moment before blinking. "Oh Jester. I'm sorry. I almost thought this was all a dream."

"It'd be a pretty weird one if it was," Jester said. "Oh! We're about to go, but before we do, where's your room? I can go get your stuff."

Caleb frowned. "Oh, I don't have anything. We can just go."

"I don't mind. It's okay."

Caleb stared at Cad waiting by the door waiting for Jester and Caleb. "None of it would've survived so long. I got Frumpkin. That's all I need."

"Oh, right Jester said. "So um, can I pick you up or can you stand up now?"

He frowned concentrating before shaking his head. “I still can’t get up. Could you?”

“Sure,” Jester said with a smile. It was getting easier and more familiar to carry Caleb around. If Jester was being honest, she'd say that she kinda liked carrying him and feeling his warmth in her arms. But Caleb probably didn't want to hear that. "So, we'll take you to the MISTake and show you around and then you can take another nap if you'd like."

Caleb shook his head. "Nott said you needed a navigator. I'm not the best at it, but I can set course for you once we get in."

"Really? That'd be super good since we're kinda desperate for one." Jester caught up to Cad and went through the halls. "Are you going to miss this, Caleb?"

"Not really. It was always supposed to be a temporary home."

***

Caleb stared at the hunk of junk that Jester called a ship. "What's wrong with it?"

"What do you mean?" Jester asked.

"It's all rusted and barely hanging on together. I've never seen a ship in worse repair." Caleb waved at it. "This is barely even junk scrap."

Beau snorted. "It's not that bad. And it's the only option you got."

"Not that bad? It’s a junk heap. If this is not that bad, I'd hate to see what bad looks like," Claeb said.

"Um, Caleb? This actually counts as half decent," Jester said, keeping her voice low enough so that only Caleb could hear her. "It's not shiny, but it flies and really that's kinda the only option we got nowadays. Most ships are kinda junky."

Caleb looked around to see Beau and Fjord staring at him like they were mentally weighing him. It hadn’t even been a day and already Caleb was showing how much he didn’t belong. He took a deep breath calming himself down. All the more proof that he had to go on his own once they docked at a populated station. “Oh right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” Beau still was giving him a strange look.

Jester adjusted her grip on Caleb. "Come on, I'll show you inside. It's pretty neat. You're going to love it."

"Ja, sounds great.," Caleb said. He wasn't sure about it, but he was given a free ride and it sounded like there wasn't going to be any other options.

It became apparent very quickly that the MISTake was not meant to hold five people, let alone six. True Nott was very small, but Caduceus was enormous. There were four bunks built into the walls of the hall and an over-sized hammock hanging free in the middle of the hall. "That's where Cad sleeps," Jester explained. "He doesn't fit in a bunk. And over there's the med bay." Med bay was a glorified term for what was best described as a first aid kit in closet form.

Caleb was about to ask about it when he started another coughing fit.

"Caleb!" Jester squeaked. This was easily his 20th one, yet Jester still worried over each one. She rushed him to the med bay.

Caleb held up a hand. "I'm fine, Jester." He coughed more before the fit cleared.

Jester pulled down a seat out of the wall and set Caleb down on it. "Try coughing again," Jester said pressing some device against Caleb's chest.

"You don't have to do this," Caleb said. "It's just a cough."

"A cough that can be part of something more serious. Please, can you try coughing for me?" Jester eyes were so big and soft, Caleb couldn't say no to her.

He let out a hacking wheeze. "Is that good?"

Jester frowned at the device. "It says you have something in your lungs, but I have no way of telling what it is."

“Oh probably the sol-” Caleb stopped when he noticed Beau standing at the doorway.

“Hi Beau! Do you need anything?” Jester asked cheerfully.

Beau stared down Caleb. "Just grabbing some bandages."

"Oh, let me get those for you." Jester hopped up and slid open a cupboard grabbing a wrap of bandages. "Do you need anything else?"

"Nah. So what do you think of our 'junk heap'?" Beau asked Caleb.

Caleb looked down. "It's a good ship, I'm sure. Nott said you needed a navigator? I can get started right away."

"Yeah. We all kinda suck at it," Beau said with a shrug.

Jester scooped up Caleb again without even asking, but he didn’t entirely mind it. Her arms were strong. "Let me show you the cockpit. It's our pit of cocks." She giggled and Caleb had to fight back a snort. It was a little tricky going to the cockpit since it was up a ladder, so Jester had to swing Caleb over her shoulder.

The cockpit wasn't very impressive though the fact that they could fit more than three people in it at once was quite a feat. There were three seats in it with all sorts of buttons and switches on it. It was the same set up that Caleb was used to seeing on control panels. In fact, Caleb was pretty certain he had been in the same kind of ship as this before. "How old is this thing?" Caleb asked.

"Nearly 180 years old," Jester said. "So not that old. And she's held up pretty good."

"Ah." Caleb's mind started to race. How could a ship so old still be in working condition? Though it sounded like old ships were quite common, but it made no sense. Was there some technological break down? No advancements in any of the technological based fields? That would explain why they were so excited by all the abandoned lab equipment. But the question was once again, what happened?

Fjord sat in the pilot's seat. "Are you sure that he can navigate this for us?"

Beau snorted. "Anything would be better than our current system." She stood outside of the cockpit giving them more room.

"Here, Caleb," Jester said cheerful as she put him down in the navigator's chair. "This will be where you work."

Caleb looked at the map frowning. None of the names on it looked even slightly familiar. "Where is it that we're going?"

"Zadash," Fjord said.

Caleb looked back down at the screen and found it relatively quick, but it didn't make sense. Zadash sat where Rexxentrum should've been. "This map is recent, ja?"

"Why would we give you an old map? We're not that backwards," Beau said.

"Nein, nein, this is fine. Just, I've been on the station for a long time and didn't know if the maps have been updated yet," Caleb said.

"Last update was five months ago," Fjord said.

Caleb nodded still staring at the map. So much of his old life had been renamed and claimed by people not even born yet when he went to sleep. It was hard to take in. "Right, the best route would be," he said and then paused noticing something on the map. "Did you realize that this is a quarantine zone?" He had heard of Ikithon considering using a quarantine to hide important locations, but Caleb hadn’t realized that this included the station.

Fjord went pale. “What?”

“See, the symbols for quarantine are all over the place here.” Caleb pointed at the map. “That would explain why no one had looted here before.” And why no one had found him.

“And your cough,” Jester said her blue skin turning pale.

Caleb sunk down. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Are you telling me that we got typhoid Mary on our ship?” Beau demanded.

“It’s just something stuck in my lungs,” Caleb said. “I’ll be-” Another coughing fit came over him.

Jester patted Caleb’s back hard. “I did scan his lungs and nothing came up except for something in his lungs, but no sign of infectious disease.”

“There,” Caleb coughed more. “There was a hiding protocol.” He wheezed catching his breath. “For the outpost. The quarantine may be part of that.”

“But we have no way of knowing,” Fjord sagged down in the captain’s chair.

Caleb sighed. “If there was any disease, the quarantine would’ve ended years ago.”

“What makes you say that?” Beau asked.

“Because the quarantine began approximately 182 years ago. See, the symbols are universal, but the coding here is in old Zemnian. I don’t know what’s being used now, but in Zemnian, these numbers show when it began. The 16th of Thunsheer 654 PD.” A year after Caleb had been put into the cryofreezer. “I don’t know of any diseases that can survive that long without any carriers.”

Jester clapped her hands. “Then everything’s going to be okay.”

Beau scowled. “How did you get there?”

“What?” Caleb asked.

“An outpost in the middle of nowhere quarantined, and you stuck there with no ship,” Beau said.

Fjord nodded getting up. “That is mighty suspicious.”

“I was abandoned there,” Caleb said, leaking out just enough truth to be believable. “I had a disagreement with my mentor and he left me there.”

“But why were you there in the first place if it was quarantined?” Fjord rested a hand on his blaster.

Beau entered the cockpit. “Nobody speaks Zemnian anymore, but you act like it’s what you’re used to. There’s something off with your story.”

Jester stepped forward. “He doesn’t have to tell you if he doesn’t want to.”

“Look I’m all for privacy and secrets and s%$^ on this ship, but there’s a limit,” Fjord said. “We don’t know if we can trust him.”

"I can't even stand up on my own. What could I do?" Caleb said.

Beau snorted. "For all we know, you're faking it. Or maybe you are contagious after all."

Caleb scowled at her. "All I want is to get to the closest station, so I can hitch a ride as far from here as possible, that's all."

"He's not doing any of this on purpose," Jester said.

"And how do you know that?" Fjord asked. "Jes, I know you think that the world is all soft and safe, but you need to think. He could be manipulating you."

Jester's hands balled up into fists and she bit her lip. She looked like she was close to crying.

"He's not," Nott yawned as she scurried up the ladder. "And he doesn't have to tell you anything."

"And why is that?" Fjord demanded.

Nott rolled her eyes. "Cause he told Jester and me enough."

"And we're supposed to listen to your judge of character?" Beau asked. "It's not like you're the most forthcoming person either."

"I trust him," Cad said from the bottom of the stairs.

Fjord eased up and removed his hand from the blaster. "You sure?"

"Yeah, he's a good one. Not the most open, but most aren't." The giant smiled at Caleb. "When you're done here you should try some tea."

Fjord looked over at Beau and shrugged. "He passes the Cad test."

Beau scowled at him, "And that's enough for you?"

"It is for now," Fjord said. "Besides, it's not like he's going to stay here forever. Just until the next station."

Nott and Jester frowned at this and Caleb had to look away. He just had to keep reminding himself that it was all for the best. This wasn't his place.

***

"Oh!" Jester said excitedly after tea with Cad. "We have to decide which bunk is yours!"

"But you only have four bunks," Caleb said, "and there's five of you."

Jester nodded. "Well, yeah, but Cad has the hammock, so you don't need to worry about him. And Nott is super small."

"I usually bunk up with Jester when we have extra crew," Nott said. She glanced over at Caleb and then diverted her gaze.

Caleb shook his head. "You don't need to. Not for me. I can just sleep in a chair."

Jester pouted. "Caleb! You won't get better sleeping in a chair. You need proper sleep in a proper bunk. Besides, me and Nott don't mind. It's like a slumber party."

"I don't want to be a burden."

Jester had to fight back a groan. "It's not a burden. You're our new friend, and friends help each other."

"You just met me." Caleb looked around before continuing. "And I'm lying to the rest of your crew. You really can't mean it."

“Why not?” Jester asked tilting her head.

Caleb’s cheeks turned red. “Because, you don’t know if I’m worth it. And I’m not.”

“I don’t think that’s up for you to decide, Caleb,” Jester said.

“Yeah, we already like you,” Nott added.

Jester’s arms were full with Caleb otherwise she’d boop his nose. “Yep, it’s already too late.”

Caleb frowned. “This is more kindness than I know what to do with.”

“You’ll learn,” Jester said with a smile.

***

When traveling through the galaxy and the great expanses thereof, life tends to fall into a routine. An incredibly boring routine. Jester would help Caleb out of his bunk and then take him the the incredibly crowded kitchen/dining room where Caduceus had made breakfast(what any meal was made of, Caleb had no clue and he was afraid to ask). Then she or Caduceus would carry Caleb to the cockpit where Caleb took care of navigation. It was mostly just double checking things and correcting the course as needed. After that, it was time for a nap. His cough had gone away, but he still needed a lot of sleep. Caduceus and Jester had said that it was his body healing, but Caleb couldn't help but wonder if his body was struggling with shaking off the cryo freeze. He was ready be finished with it. After a nap, it was time for lunch and then Jester or Cad would help him with exercises that were supposed to help Caleb with regaining his ability to walk, but so far it didn't seem to help. Finally, it was time for dinner and then sleep.

After two weeks of it, Caleb was ready to scream. They were getting close to Zadash and then Caleb could finally go off and disappear. What he'd do after that he wasn't certain, but he just wanted to find some forgotten corner of the galaxy. "When will we get there?" Beau asked.

"Two more days barring any breakdowns," Caleb said.

Beau groaned. "This is taking forever. I wish we could just use teleporters."

Caleb paused. He'd never heard of such technology existing, but it could've been developed after he was frozen. Jester and Nott had been helping him catch up with what was new in the world, but there was just so much to go over. "Those don't exist,” he said, hoping to keep his uncertainty out of his voice.

"I know, but it would be a whole lot faster that this bucket of bolts," Beau said.

"I thought that this was actually a decent ship," Caleb pointed out.

Beau shook her head. "Not after being trapped in here for two weeks, it's not. This ship sucks and so does everyone on it."

"Jester doesn't suck!" Caleb said louder than he had meant to. He could feel his cheeks turning red. "And neither does Nott. Or Cad."

"Hey, what about me and Fjord?"

Caleb shrugged. "Fjord's okay, I suppose, but you stole my toast."

"You weren't eating it," Beau said.

"I was saving it for last." Caleb shook his head.

Beau rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows that you start with toast."

"Nein, you save the best part for last."

Beau punched him lightly on the arm. "I'm gonna miss ya, you know. We could really use you as a navigator."

Caleb rubbed his arm. "I don't want to be a burden. You're crowded as it is."

"And we'd be crowded with any other navigator too," Beau said.

Caleb sighed shaking his head. "I'm just a burden. Jester and Cad spend too much time on me."

Beau shrugged. "It gives them something to do. Jester would miss you."

"Ja?"

"Yeah, same with Nott. They like having the extra playmate."

Caleb frowned. "They're hardly children and neither am I."

"Yeah, but maybe you should think it over," Beau said. "We could use somebody like you on the ship, and we're already used to you."

"I thought you didn't trust me," Caleb said.

Beau stood up. "Nah, but it's not like I trust anyone on this ship. Especially after 2 weeks. So, um, think about it." She left the cockpit.

Caleb sat there thinking about what Beau said. Staying would've been easy. Not having to find a new ship that would let him on or having to figure out how he'd pay for it. But life was never going to be easy, especially for him. He'd figure out a new life away from the MISTake. There wasn't any other option.

***

They were going to reach Zadash station in less than an hour, and Jester felt sick to her stomach. Caleb was going to leave that day and she didn’t want to see him go. Sure he could be dour and a bit of a grumpy-puss, but then he’d laugh at one of her pranks, listen to her talk, or just be her friend. Not that the rest of the crew weren’t her friends, but Caleb felt special, different. He always appreciated what she did for him and even praised her for her strength and abilities. So it hurt to see him go.

Jester wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Nott had grown a special friendship with Caleb as well, and Beau had declared that he didn’t suck. Cad said something about Caleb having potential, but he said that sort of thing all the time. Even Fjord was sad about the idea of losing their new navigator. The only question was if Caleb was sad that he’d be leaving.

“Have you ever been there before?” Jester asked as she helped Caleb with his stretches.

“To Zadash when it was Rexxentrum? Ja, it was the jewel of the empire. I went to the royal academy there. Finest school for the sciences ever,” Caleb said. He leaned forward trying to touch his toes.

Jester frowed and readjusted his feet. “Did you like it there?”

Caleb shrugged. “It was school. I went there and I learned. And I loved every second there. Kind of thought I’d become a teacher there.”

“Yeah?” Jester never seen him look so happy talking about the past. “Well, maybe you still can.”

Another shrug as he came up from his stretch. “My knowledge is a bit out of date now.”

“Oh. Well, are you excited to see how everything that changed since you last were in Zadash?” Jester asked.

Caleb shook his head going back down to stretch reaching for his toes. “Not really. It kind of turned sour in the end for me. And it’s-” He didn’t finish the thought.

“Intimidating? Scary? Weird?” Jester suggested.

“Ja, weird,” Caleb said. “I never expected to go back there.”

Jester tilted her head. “Why not?” She pushed down a little on his back straightening it.

He sighed. “Things happened since I left there the first time. Life got complicated.”

“Well, we’ll be with you. If you want us to that is,” Jester said. “I know that you’re going to leave the ship and strike out on your own, but we can hang out while you find a new place for yourself and we can show you around since stuff has changed so much since you went to sleep. You’ll love it.”

A sad smile crossed Caleb’s face. “You’ve already done too much for me.”

“Not really. You’ve been a lot of help with navigating and I think that Nott really needed a friend like you.”

“You really think so?” Cale asked.

Jester nodded. “Yeah! I think she gets lonely sometimes and I don’t always have the time to play with her and I’m not always what she needs. But maybe you are.”

Caleb shook his head the smallest amount. “Nein, nobody needs me.”

“I do,” Jester said the words coming out before she could even think. “I mean, we need you. None of us are any good at navigating and you’re really smart.”

“So is Nott, and Fjord and Beau aren’t that dumb either,” Caleb said.

Jester frowned as she helped Caleb into his next position. “Well, yeah, but,” she paused. She didn’t know what to say. The idea of Caleb leaving just made her heart feel so incredibly lonely. “I’ll miss you.”

Caleb stared at her and his cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. “I’ll miss you too. Maybe we can write each other?”

“Like pen pals? Do you really want to?” Jester asked leaning forward her tail wagging about.

“Ja, of course I do,” Caleb said.

Jester grinned and held out her pinky finger. “Okay, we’re penpals. Now we need to pinkie swear on it.”

Caleb stared at her extended pinkie and then slowing smile. “Alright then.” He linked his pinkie with hers.

“Pen pal promise!” Jester let go of their grip. “I’ll message you every day! Or as many days as I can.”

“I will too,” Caleb said softly.

It didn’t do much to dispel the lonely feeling in her stomach, but it helped some. After all, Caleb still wanted to be her friend.

***

Caleb had nothing to pack up since he owned nothing except for the clothes on his back and Frumpkin. Not that he minded or anything. This wasn’t the first time that he had nothing to his name but the need to leave. Jester hovered over him as he prepared to leave the ship. Though to be fair, she was his ride around.

“It’s been nice,” Caleb said. “And who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again.”

Jester nodded. She was trying so hard to seem so happy and cheerful, but there was a distinct feeling that it was all in all an act. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“I’m ready to disembark if you are,” Caleb said.

“Okay.” Her voice sounded small and distant. He couldn’t mean that much to her. Maybe she just never liked goodbyes. Jester picked him up, but it was stiffer than usual.

Caleb wrapped an arm around her shoulders to keep himself steady. “Danke. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Jester said.

“Wait!” Nott ran up to Jester and Caleb. “Please don’t go. I don’t know why you have to go.”

Caleb frowned. “I don’t wish to be a burden.”

“You’re the best navigator I’ve ever seen,” Nott said. “And that’s not a compliment I give lightly.”

Jester bit her lip. “Is it because we know your secret?”

Caleb stared at her, or at least what he could see of her, and then looked away. “I-”

“I don’t see what the big deal is. So what we found you in a cryofreezer,” Jester said her arms trembling. “You’re our friend now and it doesn’t matter.”

“Jester, such technology doesn’t exist. It’s legend, mythology. If such a thing did exist and they found the man who used it, what do you think they’d do to him?” Caleb asked.

Jester shrugged jostling him. “I’d asked him questions,” Nott said. “See how it impacted him and his memory.”

“And after that?” Caleb asked.

“A medical exam?” Jester sounded uncertain.

Caleb shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it, but they had to know. They needed to know why he had to disappear. “An autopsy.” Just like those poor cats that went in before him. “I was scheduled to be dissected an hour after I came out of the freezer.”

“What?” Jester’s arms almost went slack, and she nearly dropped Caleb. “But, what?”

Nott looked pale. “Who would do that?”

“Dr. Trent Ikithon would. Especially to a criminal such as myself,” Caleb said.

“What did you do?” Jester asked.

Caleb shook his head. “It was a protest gone wrong. I was trying to stop it. Stand up for the empire, but then a fire started in the station.” Both Nott and Jester gasped. They knew how serious a fire on a station could be. “I couldn’t stop it and I can’t remember all that happened that day. I think I may have started it, but I’m not certain. But all the blame was placed on me. Like a coward, I tried to run, but I was caught eventually and given to Dr. Trent Ikithon. I studied under him once. A brilliant mind.”

“So they were going to kill you for a crime you might not have even committed?” Nott asked.

“A crime is a crime and must be punished,” Caleb said. “I deserved what I had coming, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth and waste this second chance. Which is why I can’t stay here.”

“I call bull$#@%,” Beau said from behind Caleb and Jester.

Caleb stared at her. “It really did happen.”

“Not on that, on ditching us” Beau rolled her eyes. “You think you’re the only one who has ran afoul with the law here? Join the club.”

“Yeah, I’m banned at my home station and we can’t go anywhere near Felderwin because of Nott,” Jester said.

The little goblin nodded proudly.

“Sounds like everyone after you are long dead anyways,” Fjord said. “So you don’t have anything to fear.”

Caleb snorted. “If anyone found out that such technology is actually viable even in your forgotten wasteland of tech, I’d be considered a commodity. A rarity. Especially since I know how the cryofreezer works.”

Beau frowned. “Why is it so important?”

“Think about it. It’s the first step to immortality,” Caleb said. “Let’s say someone with sufficient funds became ill and there was no cure. All they’d have to do is go in the freezer, wait for the cure to be found, then they’d get unfrozen, and cured.”

Nott frowned. “That’s great but it’s got some major kinks to work out.” She waved at Caleb’s legs.

“Ja, but I was just supposed to be in for a few weeks, not for nearly two centuries,” Caleb said.

“So, it shouldn’t be a big deal if you stay with us,” Jester said. “Since it’s not the territories anymore, then the law that is after you isn’t here anymore.”

Caleb shook his head. “I’m still a guilty man.”

“You don’t even know if it was your fault. Culpable deniability,” Beau said.

“And since we know what happened to you, we’re ready if anyone comes looking for you,” Nott said.

Jester nodded. “Yeah, you’d be safer with us.”

“I’ve always been in favor of the buddy system,” Cad said.

“Do you even trust me?” Caleb asked.

There was hemming and hawing all about. “Not really, but it’s not like you trust us yet,” Nott said. “That stuff takes time. Besides it’s not like we’re asking you to marry us. Just stick around for another station.”

“Just one station?” Caleb asked.

“This is too big of a station,”Beau said. “You’d be remembered here. You can leave at the next one.”

Caleb was about to point out the flaw in her logic, but he looked around. This was actually a good ship and a good crew. And if Caleb was being honest with himself, he actually wanted to stay with them. “Alright, one more station.” And maybe another after that. Forever was more than he could ever promise too, but one more station? He could handle staying for one more station.

#widojest #pinkevilbob writes #critical role fan fiction

21 notes · View notes

aiyakuma · 4 years ago

Text

Chappie Zwei (Pathfinder X Reader)

(Chapter two of Finding the Path to Your Heart on Wattpad, a SFW robot X human fanfiction)

It was a little frightening at first, but I quickly got the hang of boosting down. Just kidding, I screamed and spun out of control the entire way down. As soon as we landed in the Market, Bangalore and Wraith wasted no time running around and gathering weapons while I tried keeping this morning’s breakfast down the back of my throat. “So I can just pick up any weapon I see?” I asked once I’d regained my composure. Wraith stopped to roll her eyes at me. “Duh. What else are you gonna fight with, your fists?”

“Psh, maybe I will fight with my fists. My fists to your face. Heh- ow!” I muttered. Going into the only unopened room, I immediately stubbed my foot on a Havoc. “Woah, sweet!” By the time I was fully equipped, my teammates were ready to hit the road before anyone else showed up. We began heading towards the Bunker, but as we neared the gunshots in the distance were getting much louder.

“Looks like there’s a couple squads over here. I’ll set up a teleporter in case we have to fall back,” Wraith said as she disappeared, leaving a strange glowing orb behind.

“Good, I’ll pop out the smoke and we can take them by surprise. You know what you’re doing, right kid? Don’t mess this up,” Bangalore slapped my back lightly, but she wasn’t mean about it. Her tone sounded almost… endearing?

I couldn’t be the only one not doing anything. That, and I was too afraid to fight anyone head-on yet. “I-I’ll go behind them and set up my turret!” I exclaimed before quickly diverging paths. There were around five people total battling it out between the Bunker and the outlying houses. While Bangalore began picking a couple off and Wraith finished setting up her portal, I dropped to my knees and slid off the dormant turret that sat on my back. With just a few cranks and twists, it soon became a fully-functioning platform ready to shoot down whoever came too close. Already its first victim approached, a man in yellow running straight towards me. Turry immediately started firing, and I watched excitedly as bullets ran straight through the man like dust. Wait a second, they were going straight through him? “He’s right there, why aren’t you shooting correctly?! Don’t tell me you’re malfunctioning!” I wailed while frantically pressing buttons on the control panel.

“Too bad, looks like you’re gonna have to get a refund on that one,” a cocky man’s voice said from behind me, and I turned to meet face-to-face with the tunnel of a gun pointed between my eyes. I fell onto my back and frantically rushed for my gun, but Turry had already beaten me to it. In its last few seconds, the turret shot the man in the chest a couple times before shutting down to recharge. As he stumbled back with his chest held in pain, I pressed the trigger on my Havoc and didn’t stop firing until he crumbled to the sand. To finish him off before he crawled away, I grabbed him by the shoulders and whacked his head good and hard again Turry.

“H-Hey, I did it! I beat someone!” I told my teammates over transceiver.

“...Good job Rookie. We got the other guy too, looks like that squad’s finished. Let’s deal with this second squad now, they’re still hanging around somewhere,” Bangalore said. But first, I had to heal up - the man I just K.O.ed landed quite a bit of shots on me too, after all.

I ran into a random house and let out a sigh of relief as I began injecting a syringe. Only, there was an enemy Gibraltor doing the same thing right across from me. Bullets immediately flew my way, and all I could do was run upstairs to escape. Just my luck, Lifeline and Pathfinder were waiting for me there too. “AAH! SPARE MEEE!” I cried as I darted past them and out the balcony door. Nope, no way in hell I’m fighting three people with such low health. Heading for the portal, I left the squad to be dealt with by Wraith and Bangalore while I began to frantically heal up on the other side. I thought I wasn’t in danger anymore, until Pathfinder grappled towards me and shot me to the ground in seconds.

“You did a really mediocre job, friend. Maybe next time you’ll do really good!”

I knew I was defeated, but I wasn’t happy about it. I threw one last weak punch at his leg, something that hurt me more than it did him. “Don’t tease me, I did my best! Just finish me off already.” Hanging my head low, I waited to experience a blow similar to the one I dealt the magician guy earlier. It was much easier to anticipate that, anyways, then it was to anticipate the shame I caused for my family and the disappointment from my teammates. I knew Apex wasn’t for me. I made a dumb mistake and now everyone will think I’m…

But instead of a blow to the head, I felt a blow to the chest in the form of a revive shot. In a matter of seconds, Pathfinder had wrapped an arm around me and slowly brought me back to my knees. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-yeah… I mean, but why would you help me?”

“It wouldn’t look too good if you died so quickly on your first match. Consider this a second chance to prove yourself!” He gave a thumbs up.

I could have cried right then. “Thanks, thank you so much! My family would have disowned me for sure if I went out like that!” Without thinking I embraced him, to which two sheepish arms gently embraced back. “Sorry, force of habit,” I said. Pulling away from him, I swore I saw a blushing emoji on his screen before he gave it a couple good knocks back to its normal smile.

“It’s no problem. Next time I run into you though, I won’t be as helpful. This is every sentient being for themselves, after all!”

“Hey, and next time I run into you I won’t be a chicken and run away. So you better watch your back!”

“Looking forward to it!”

Our conversation was interrupted by Wraith and Bangalore on the transceiver. “I’m low on health, falling back to the portal.”

“Solid copy, right behind ya.” We both looked at each other, knowing it was time for him to depart. “Take this med kit and heal yourself up. See you later!” He handed me a big red box from god knows where and grappled back to his team. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a little sad watching him leave. Maybe it was because he was so nice, nicer than anyone I’ve met in Apex so far… in fact, he was nicer than most of the people I’ve known my whole life. The wealthy circle of elites wasn’t exactly full of saints, after all.

“What are you standing around for, mouth breather? Heal up before I down you myself.” A snarky voice came up from behind. At any rate, I’d much rather have that robot as a teammate than Wraith…

#apex #apex legends #pathfinder #fanfiction #fluffy

2 notes · View notes

kdtheghostwriter · 5 years ago

Text

SNK #119 - Jaeger ni Kissu

Let me get some Fs in the chat, pls.

So, what the hell? Shiganshina am I right? What’s the deal with that crazy place, huh?

You would think this fandom, more than all the others, would be used to getting the slider when they expect a fastball. (That’s right! I know baseball stuff!) Even I have to admit, though, Isa got me with this one. It’s all pretty thrilling to me as a reader. I’ll explain why later but first, some housekeeping. Remember when I said this a few months ago? That Eren’s expression was less relieved and more shocked leaning toward concerned? Welp.

Arm extended; mouth agape. The universal signs of “No, not that you asshole!” It’s also masterful paneling to have Colt’s cry of “Wait!” superimposed onto the Attack Titan, which we know can’t speak. Eren was mortified by the idea of his hometown being overrun with Titans yet again. That was hardly surprising. What did surprise me was Zeke’s look of shock as the Grice brothers revealed themselves. He still screamed, of course, as should have been expected. But that moment of hesitation…hmm. I guess he really did like Colt. It’s not out of the question. He just liked his plan more.

And since we’re on the topic, I’d like some words about this panel right here.

Dammit all, this one hit more than any of the others for me. See, Zeke, it’s not just you who understands the joys and the sorrows and the burdens of being an older brother. I do myself. Falco realized what was about to happen and tried to save his brother’s life by pushing him away. Colt refused and held him tighter.

Don’t worry, Falco! Your big brother will always be with you!

Fuck me, how am I supposed to keep my chill after a scene like that? Sure enough, Colt was scorched as his brother transformed into a mindless, lumbering monster which transitions me nicely into something else I said in the aftermath of #117. Someone did indeed have to die. I only guessed wrong who.

Reiner is going to survive this manga whether he wants to or not. More importantly, what a champion Porco is. Knew he was cooked, so he put all his energy into healing his body. Then he left the cockpit to distract Falco’s Titan and save two people. The fact that he did this right after seeing the memory of his brother confessing to Reiner that he lied is no accident. He wasn’t just proving to Reiner he was better; he was getting one back at his big brother. It’s equal parts heroic and tragic which is par for the course of this series. He died in almost the exact same way Marcel did all those years ago – saving Reiner’s dumbass from being nommed up. I’ll miss you Porco, but at least you’ll live on in the memories of the little one.

Speaking of little ones: maybe we should start calling her “Deadeye” Gabi Braun. This was such an inspired choice. Not just because of who pulled the trigger in the end (and partly because of whose gun she used), which got the intended reaction, but also because of who she hit. I thought for sure she would have taken aim for Zeke. It would have made sense. A wounded, stationary target is a lot easier to mark than one sprinting at full speed. (That’s what MGS3 taught me at least.) She’s a soldier, though, and the main reason she hijacked the blimp in Liberio was to kill The Usurper. It’s unclear to me if Magath’s mission here is strictly Dead or Alive or if they were trying to capture him but either way her mission, for now, appears to be accomplished. I say “appears to be” because it’s time for my favorite monthly mini-game:

WHY, SWAY, WHY??

There’s a lot we don’t know yet about Titan powers, Eldian biology and the transference from one vessel to another. If Marley’s goal specifically was to recapture the Founder instead of simply stopping Eren from using it, this is what Zeke would call a miscalculation. We know that Titan Powers get transferred Avatar-style to a rando newborn Eldian when a Shifter dies before succession. I actually believe there’s a lot of story left to go. But! There isn’t enough left to now try and track down, out of all the Eldians still in the world, which one holds this terrifying power. (That would make a great AU, though.) Not to mention, we don’t know what happens in the case of a Shifter holding more than one power. Do all three Titans go to one child? Do they get split up back into three by the P A T H S? We don’t know. All of this is reason to expect some chicanery in the next few months or so. Besides any of that we are no closer to knowing what Eren’s true intentions are in regards to why he wants to use the Founder. Isayama Hajime is absolutely the kind of author to blast his main character into oblivion before the story has concluded. He is not the kind of author to leave a stone unturned. We found out about the Shifters and we found out about the basement. Whatever knowledge was revealed to him will not be kept secret, even if it isn’t by his own hand.

Sidebar: decapitation is weird, even in messy circumstances like this one. The electric signals in the brain often keep firing for minutes after the head has been removed. This is how beheaded snakes continue to hiss and bite after the fact. My troll prediction would be Eren’s head landing in Zeke’s hand like so many baseballs in his lifetime; the Coordinate is activated and Shiganshina proceeds to have a bad time.

I don’t know, folks. I couldn’t help but think of one very important rule as I read the closing pages.

youtube

Always Double Tap, dude. Gabi just had to go for the swag. See, if she had popped Eren’s head like a bloody firework I would have said, “Welp, you had a good run, kid.” But nope. You went and left the most powerful being in existence an outside outside chance of survival, and if he does, even for a few seconds more, everybody is screwed.

No segue, I just love these two teaming up. It makes sense that Mikasa and Armin have gotten closer as Eren has gotten more distant. I think seeing how that dynamic evolves as the story builds to its conclusion will be very important. For now, on the surface level, they just really care for each other.

The last time I got a feeling like this, I was a young lad watching Samurai Jack in the early 00s. I would watch every week without fail on the Cartoon Network, engrossed for the entire runtime. And then, oh, the long and nagging wait. I can admit that having most stuff On Demand is impossibly handy for this particular moment in history, but goddamn do I remember having to wait a whole ass week for my favorite show to come back. Fans of Shingeki no Kyojin don’t realize how good they have it.

Replicating that feeling is almost impossible, not just because of how product is released now. Every story has been told before, in some way. Sometime in the last Millenia or so, our slimy lizard brains have come to expect certain beats and structure from stories. It makes the stories good, but also predictable. I can tell you as a writer, it’s so very difficult to find a way to surprise people in a genuine and engaging way.

This is going to sound more cold and callous than intended but, it does involve manipulating an audience to achieve your desired outcome. You want to lead them to the place you want to go and let them think it was their plan all along. This is the Art of Storytelling: I know what you want better than you do. This involves knowing your audience, and I think it’s safe to say after his “I want to hurt people with this,” comment that no writer on the planet right now knows his audience better than Isayama.

Fans of SNK should be happy. I’ve said this before: it isn’t the best book out right now (that’s still OPM, read that shit) but it is the most unpredictable. That doesn’t always make a story good, but in this case, it’s the greatest factor. Feel free to speculate and discuss. That’s what fandom is for. Just give up now on trying to work out what comes next. Only one person knows that. Isa has had this story plotted out for years with diversions here and there. We won’t know until it all ends. Enjoy this ride now. I can promise you we will never see anything like this manga ever again.

Stray Thoughts

- Still no Kyomi. Still no Tiny Queen. I know the main character just got his head yeeted but let’s get some deets now, pls.

- I was so looking forward to the memes and am happy to report that I wasn’t let down. Well done, friends.

- The 104th Squad continues to persist, as does Yelena. We’ll earmark this for later.

- The fact that both the Jaeger Brothers got shot before Floch Forster is high dark comedy.

- In a battle this chaotic, things like skill and experience are often nullified. It makes perfect sense that Eren would be caught off-guard by a soldier he didn’t even know was there, child though she may be. Right place, wrong time. These Things Happen.

- Armin taking out the Cart’s turret gun was a slick little callback to when he bought time for Eren to take down Bertolt.

- I’m interested in Armin’s game plan here. Marley’s infantry is about to be overrun by Titans, so what else does he aim to do? And how will Yelena interfere?

- Nile said he wouldn’t see his family again. We all knew he was right but man, the look on his face when his number was called. That’s tough. Shout-outs to Pixis, getting one last sip in. You a real one.

120 notes · View notes

barbariccia · 4 years ago

Photo

X57: Bring Down The Sky

ok, i lied. there’s one last thing for me to get through in mass effect 1 - the BDtS dlc, which i’ve never played through before. it’s relatively short and available for free if you play on pc - included with the base game on origin, and can be downloaded on ea’s website for steam.

who wants some Additional Plot all crammed into one long post?!

in true ME style, you’re thrown directly into the action. once you enter the area this mission takes place on via the galaxy map, you’re shown a familiar looking world... and an asteroid slowly approaching.

and we’re dumped onto the asteroid itself in the mako.

it’s pretty easy to see the objective even if you weren’t paying attention to the distress call.

three giant fusion torches are propelling the asteroid at great speed toward a looming planet that looks rather earth-like, though we’re not in the local cluster at all. this is terra nova of the exodus cluster, one of the first planets colonised by humans after they discovered the mass relays and what lay beyond, and the second “extrasolar colony”, the first being no other than elysium, which we’ve heard about before.

there’re bases around the three tourches, all armed with heavy turrets, easy enough to dispatch of via the mako’s own gun, and once we make it inside the first base, we’re treated with a... rather unusual sight.

these charming fellows are batarians, outlaws and pirates for the most part, and while not seen in the base game, they go on to be the face of space-orcs, in a sense. vicious and seemingly war-hungry, they’re directly responsible for a ruthless shepard’s background, who was stationed on torfan and lived through their assault, the only person of their troop to do so.

we clear them and their varren out easily enough, and disable the first torch at a panel upstairs.

read the subtitles, shepard.

the communication line she’s using goes dead. on our way out...

we meet a man, who shoots and immediately panics when he sees the chest he attacked belongs to a human. eh, i’ve had worse.

this is simon, the chief engineer. he’s worried, of course - we’re heading right toward terra nova, where there are four million people living. not ideal.

well, that’s just fucking dandy, then.

Simon: It would be like millions of fusion bombs striking at once. Millions. The heat of the blast... a thousand kilmoeters away, clothes will ignite. There’ll be global wildfires. Air shock will flatten everything for hundreds of kilometers. Terra Nova will die, Shepard. Not just our colony - the planet. There’ll be a climate shift. Mass extinctions. The ecosystem won’t recover for thousands of years. Millions, maybe.

Shepard: Any chance it’ll land in the oceans?

Simon: That would be even worse! Tsunamis would sweep inland at hundreds of kilometers per hour. Millions of tonnes of water would be vaporized at the point of impact. Global cloud coverage. The plants could all die. And if they go, the whole ecosystem rolls over. I-- I’d have to run the numbers, but take my word for it: it’d be bad.

traditional mol nerd notes, since i was a dinosaur kid: the idea of the asteroid that decimated the dinosaurs (and began one of the 5th largest mass extinction events in eath’s history) was only first proposed in 1980, which is way more recent than i thought it was. the asteroid itself is thought to have landed in the area of chicxulub, mexico, and the collision itself is considered to have released around 100 teratonnes of TNT -equivalent in energy. so big boom. as of 2019, dr sean gulick has done research ⁽¹⁾, ⁽²⁾ on the crater itself and the rock record of the impact, and doctorial student robert depalma (and coauthor professor phillip manning) has excavated the Tanis area of Hell Creek ⁽³⁾ amd published a paper on the findings of deposits in the area ⁽⁴⁾, though the latter has been criticised for being potentially sensationalist, having been published by media outlets before it was accepted at PNAS.

either way, it’s commonly accepted that the impact would have thrown enough dust into the atmosphere to have caused an impact winter for up to a year, which was likely exacerbated by vaporised rocks in the atmosphere that helped to reduce sunlight reaching the surface, and causing acid rain. this in turn likely led to the oceans cooling and becoming more acidic. if wildfires were also on the menu, it would have contributed to a greenhouse effect.

whatever happened, the impact led to about 75% of all species on earth becoming completely extinct, so terra nova’s not looking especially peachy with twice the damage incoming.

tl;dr yeah seems pretty spot on

this comes out when you select the renegade’s “damn aliens” response, which is pretty incredible. even as shepard you have the option to be xenophobic... but batarians really haven’t proven themselves to be much more than as aggressive as krogans, honestly, if not worse, somehow. for a non-ruthless shepard to think this way... yeesh. goes to show just how much the attack on elysium affected the human psyche, even if you’re happy enough to bring aboard most other kinds of aliens aboard your stealth cruiser.

well, let’s get on our merry way. simon tells us that one of the torches is surrounded by proximity mines, which were going to be used as excavation tools once the asteroid was brought to terra nova - where it was en route toward anyway, by design - so we have to be extra careful going over them. yay.

never change, shep.

he also tells us that he had a crew working on the asteroid when the batarians hit. it’s easy enough to find them... or what’s left of them, once the batarians were through with them.

they’re, naturally, spread around the asteroid.

the message is cut off by the sound of an explosion.

and as for the third...

all three are very, very dead. but hey, on the way we at least got to turn on the transmission tower once again.

party on, dudes.

after you turn off the second torch, kate contacts you again.

we get the chance to see what’s going on with kate. there’s a man with her, and a small group of batarians that have them cornered.

spoiler: he doesn’t make it.

no time like the present to go turn that third and final torch off. after we do, there’s a small group of aliens waiting for us.

we have a little chat with our new friend, who tells us that he knows he’s in way over his head. another batarian by the name of balak is running the show, and “what balak wants, balak gets”.

[Renegade choice: Don’t be stupid.]

Shepard: Spoken like a true lackey. You get me out of here and I’ll take care of Balak. Or you can take your chances with me.

Charn: An, uh, interesting proposal. It certainly has benefits over the current situation. (to another batarian) Shut it down. This is Balak’s problem now.

he gives us a keycard, tells us where to find the boss, and scarpers. balak’s elsewhere, in a different facility, also guarded by turrets.

in case you don’t want to look at your map, the red gives it away. why’s it red? who cares!

there’s a hell of a shootout waiting for us in the final facility, but once we’ve cleared the area of what feels like every batarian ever conceived, balak himself deigns to come show his face.

Balak: I’m leaving this asteroid. If you try to stop me, I’ll detonate these charges and your helper and her friends are all going to die.

Shepard: You don’t get to leave, Balak. Not after what you’ve done.

Balak: What I’ve done? This is nothing compared to what’s been done to the batarians. We’ve been forced into exile. Forced to survive on what we can scrounge up. It’s been like that for decades.

Shepard: Why take it out on these people? They didn’t do anything to you or your race.

Balak: Didn’t do anything? Aside from colonizing a world that could have been ours? Aside from using resources that should have been ours? We were left to defend ourselves. But the humans were stronger than us. We knew that. The Council knew that. But it didn’t matter.

Balak: It was you. You and your kind are the only reason we’re in this position.

Shepard: How does killing innocent people make up for that?

Balak: We had no other options. Sometimes you need to get someone’s attention before they’ll listen.

Shepard: Is that was Elysium was? A way to get our attention? Well, you got it. And when we responded you ran like cowards. Now you want to start it all over again.

Balak: You couldn’t possibly understand... Actually, you just don’t want to understand. And I’m done wasting my breath.

the choice is, once again, in your hands. that’s a very interesting dialogue they have before this... and one i can understand both sides of. it’s worth noting that originally the batarians were welcomed into citadel space, but their aggression provoked more than one crisis intergalactically. their exile from the council is recent- they weren’t happy with humans colonising in areas that batarians already considered claimed (this is the skyllian verge and elysium, for those keeping track), and when they were told no by the council, they closed their embassy, severed all relations, and became a rogue state, retreating back to their own systems and becoming known primarily as pirates and slavers within the terminus systems, outside of citadel space. those in the terminus systems are actively rebelling against their own government, too, who prefer to stay in their space.

i don’t want to use the word self-imposed exile, but from the human’s point of view it’s very much a throwing your toys out of the pram because you can’t get what you want act. then again, from the batarian point of view, why should they stick with a council that doesn’t seem to consider them as on equal footing enough to grant them rights to colonise the land as they claim it?

i chose to let balak go, and save the hostages. we’re stopping the asteroid either way, and death for death is... well. not ideal. if we’re throwing away our ideals and doing the whole eye for an eye thing we should have started a long time ago.

worth noting here that the base game offers a sidemission i remember me to colonist shepards, where you meet a survivor of mindoir, a colony that was raided by batarians ~13 years before game’s start, and is the colonist equivalent of the sole survivor mission dead scientists. after the colony was attacked, the surviving girl was taken by slavers, and the sidemission deals with you taking her down from a suicidal response to systems alliance soldiers finding and killing her batarian slavers. provided you talk her down, she resurfaces in a minor way in the next game, with an email thanking you for helping her. i think it’s a damn shame that this sidemission is only available to colonist shepard, because in no way is this an isolated view of the batarians and the things they’ve done and would have been a nice bit of additional flavour text for the rest of the game, considering batarians are only mentioned in passing once or twice (and in basegame only get a concept art picture by their codex entry, even).

(laughs in virmire)

you tell simon about the dead engineers you found, and let the hostages go.

she explains that the man the batarians killed was her brother, who convinced her to join the team in the first place. you get the chance to ask her a couple of questions, mostly about herself, but also...

Kate: I don’t even think they knew. When they first arrived, they were talking about getting us back to their ship. They wanted to sell us as slaved. When Balak showed up, everything changed. It was his idea to redirect the asteroid. Said it was the will of the batarian rebellion, whatever that is.

considering balak and his contingency are the outliers of their society... well, buddy, i hate to say it, but you don’t speak for the rest of your people. sure, tensions are high with humans... but they are with the turians, as well, and the turians didn’t throw a hissy and exile themselves and have their people considered the worst of the worst by even their government for the practises of a few.

eghhh. this is one of those surprisingly complicated situations. this isn’t the first time bioware discusses this concept - dragon age 2 comes to mind, and i’m sure i’ll get around to that as well sometime - but we’re not really given any way of viewing the batarians as anything other than an enemy in BDtS. we do see more batarians in the future, and that’s its own thing. we’ll revisit this later.

Bring Down The Sky, complete in around an hour. not bad for a (now) free dlc mission, but the stuff i’ve done here today won’t carry over to mass effect 2. turns out the last save i had on the normandy was actually just after feros; all my other save states were in the middle of something of on the citadel at the end of the game where there’s no way to get out and do something else. thankfully, not having completed the dlc doesn’t affect anything in the future too much, though i think i won’t be getting some me2 background commentary. not that i’d know what it was, having never done this content before.

ah well. upwards and onwards, crew!

#mol plays mass effect

1 note · View note

darksideish · 5 years ago

Text

A small, personal ship custom designed to look like a miniature star destroyer, though painted black. "Tali, I have need of your services." He said, staring blankly at the planet below him. "...who is this?" she asked. Her image appeared on the holo display. Tall, friendly, tired face. Medium short hair, strong muscles, wearing armor mixed with cloth to give it a half cloaked look. 'Quite the attractive outfit' he thought. He sighed and turned on his own holo display and turned off the voice modifiers. "Right, anyway, I have need of your services." He repeated "What's the job?" She asked "You get a premium job today, quite a deal." He smiled "How would you like to get paid half of a planets entire wealth just for a single shot?"

A small group of people in an underground bar. Password only, but he had his ways of getting into places he shouldn't be. The empire would call this place the base of a terrorist cell. The rebellion would call it one of the few truly free places on this world. He called it an opportunity. He wore formal clothing, the kind of stuff that you would never find among people who actively were having everything taken from them. The kind that would only be found among diplomats, high ranking imperial military members, or people running large scale businesses while either working with, or avoiding the notice of the empire. The people in the room eyed him with suspicion immediately. Their anger, fear, and suspicion was evident even without the force. He sat down in a corner and drew a deep breath. "I'm not looking for any trouble. I'm just some wealthy idiot who hates the empire." His words were very convincing... They just ignored him and went back to their conversations. "Kept me up for three hours at a checkpoint today. Three hours. I almost got fired from my job." one of them complained. "They broke into my house while I was away. They just hacked the doors open and searched the place. They broke my droid. That was my grandmothers droid. I spent years fixing it." "Why can they get away with this?" "I don't know! They shouldn't! I hate that we can't do anything about this! There are too damn many of them! How the hell did any of this happen?!?" "It just hurts that there is nothing more to be done." "You're right it does. Absolutely right. I just wish..." "...that you could do something. Anything, to stop them. Even if it meant begging or fighting." The people in the room murmured agreement quietly, but they'd heard all of this before. "Would any of you like some weapons? I have a lot of weapons." The voice in the corner spoke. "What...?" They turned their attention to him. Who was that? Did anybody remember him coming in? He seemed...odd. "What did you say?" "Who are you anyway?" He stood up. "I'm a weapons merchant. I'm...not really with the rebellion or anything. I don't quite trust those charity types. They can't pay me in promises and smiling free faces. Justice does not feed me. Credits do. Imperial, republic, local, whatever. I'm not here for you people in particular, I'm here because you want to be free on your own, and I see money in that." They stared at him, once again angry and tired. "What? So you want to send us off with your shiny weapons to gouge the last of our credits out of us, and then watch us die to the imps when they come around with an army?" He shrugged "Is there an answer you would accept, or are you just so terrified of actually doing anything to improve your own situation that everything seems like a suicide mission? Scared to look out your window at night because someone might think that that counts as you breaking curfew? Coward." The man ran at the weapons merchant only to suddenly find himself on the ground. He had been grabbed and thrown in an instant. "Yeah...weapons merchants tend to know how to fight. Just a fair warning for next time. Oh, and also, any other weapons merchant would have actually fired this." The man refocused his eyes only to find a small, compact blaster pointed at his face. The weapons merchant flipped the gun around and put it in the mans hand. "You can attack a weapons merchant on your own, but not a single stormtrooper?" He shook his head. "This, friends, is exactly what I'm talking about. They do have an army. They do have AT-STs, they do have giant buildings, turrets, fortresses...but do you know what they don't have?" He smiled. "They don't have infinite of anything. They are people. You are innocent to them. Exploitable, but harmless. Kill one stormtrooper where they can't see, and who is to say you did it?" He pulled out another blaster. "I'm not offering to sell you weapons. I'm offering to give you weapons. It is not charity. It's an investment. If you succeed at this, I want the rights to half of the mines, and half of the wealth of this world. That is all. You think it won't work. You think it'll be too hard, but all you need to do is kill a good number of those useless troopers, and you'll bait out an official who will do something drastic to fight back. When they do, kill them, and in the chaos of the chain of command being broken, by then you'll have contacted the rebellion. They will help you shrug off the empire. They won't fight against an entire imperial controlled world...but a world that already got rid of the highest ranking imperial officer? That's another story." He smiled. "I'm sure you can figure out what you need to do." "It...seems dangerous." "What if they found you here?" the merchant asked "Is this dangerous? What about a checkpoint just deciding that they didn't like you, and pulling you aside and taking you out? What about them waiting for you in your home, deciding that your taste in books breeds chaos, and killing you for it without a single word? This? This is dangerous, but no more than any other day under their boots. Take a deep breath, and try it. Throw away your gun after one kill if you don't like the feel of it. They'll never know it was you anyway." The patrons of the underground bar paused for a moment, and then several of them stepped forwards. "Good." He said. "You can do this. I believe in you."

The troopers saluted him. He had a serious, dark look on his face. 'How could this have happened?!?' He thought to himself. 'This is an outrage! A complete outrage! Not a single one of them should be-' he blinked in surprise as he saw the man in his office. He sat at his chair with a serious expression on his face. He wore a formal outfit and had an odd weight to his presence, as if the entire room was darker just because he was in it. It was almost hard to breathe. He swallowed. "W-who are you!" He demanded. "Sit down." The man commanded. For some reason, he felt he should listen. Despite all of his misgivings, he shook off the feeling. "I will NOT be ordered to sit down in my own office! I am not going to be taken for a fool by-" The man in his chair stared at him. The look in his eyes... He felt himself shaking. This man... He sat down. "Why did you allow this to happen?" He demanded. Oh. Oh no. This man...he must have been sent by...oh god. "S-sir... this is only a minor criminal group. It is nothing to be...to be..." he swallowed. "To be concerned about." "Concerned? This is not a matter of concern, governor. This is a matter of COMPETENCE." The force of the one word shook him. He tried to open his mouth to protest, but was interrupted. "Competence, governor. Yours." The look in his eyes got darker. It was like his eyes were burning into him. Like they were cold, so cold that it sucked all of the air out of him. He couldn't breathe. "I-I...s-s-sir...I...I..." He couldn't breathe. "They don't know about it yet. None of them do. I do." His anger made him shrink back into his chair. If he hadn't been sitting, he would have collapsed onto the floor and started crying by now. Only the hard supports of the arms of the chair prevented this. "I can help you." "What?" He managed. "I can help you." He repeated. "What do you mean?" "I mean that I can help you." "...why?" "Profit. Mine." This...this was familiar to him. He could do this. This made sense. He didn't need to know who he was. He didn't need to know who he reported to. So long as he got out of this, it would be fine. He just needed to make sure this man was paid, and everything would be fine. "What do you...what do you need?" "I want the prisons. Half of this worlds current wealth, and rights to half of the prisons on this world. Legitimate rights, nothing under the table that could have you squirm away from this, or that would get you investigated for embezzling and would ruin this for me." His eyes focused intently on him. It almost hurt just seeing them. "You couldn't afford the consequences of this otherwise." "I-I understand, sir."

A woman in armor hid in the shadows of the rooftop. "How many in the hideout?" "About a hundred." "How many outside of it?" "I dunno. I'd estimate about a hundred fifty." "Really? You're putting both of them about even?" "Well, one side theoretically has more, but also I don't know about outside of the hideout." "So, now are you finally going to tell me who my target is?" "There are two." "I thought you said that this job would be one shot fired?" "It is." She could hear the humor in his voice. "Did you know that your voice sounds really cool in that helmet of yours? It's a nice voice filter." "Thank you. Do try to stay on topic though." She replied. She was enjoying herself here, but he had been really evasive as to what, exactly, she was doing there. "Two targets, one shot, and one choice, Tali." He said. "Choice?" "You get to choose, either way, it's all the same to me." "What is this choice of yours?" "Down on the streets there, there is an imperial governor. He is personally leading his forces, and he is a clever strategist. He knows what needs to be done for this operation, and he has a fairly good chance at victory here." "And? Who is the other target?" There was a small pause. "A door panel." "What?" "Yes. A door panel." "How would that matter in any way at all?" "The hideout there has two exits. One at the front, and one far off in the back. The second target is the control for the door. Shoot it, and it will be sealed off, closing the resistance forces only way of escape, leaving them trapped and easy to pick off, one by one. Your choice. Kill the governor and allow the resistance to win, to call the rebels and liberate the planet, or shoot a single door panel, and close off all escape, ending all thoughts of victory in this place once and for all. The whole world is in your hands. Choose what to do with it. Either way, you'll still get paid." He was laughing to himself. The call ended. What kind of a choice was this? Why would he do any of this? Well, it didn't matter to her, in the end. A single silenced blaster fired. The sun fell over the horizon. The darkness crept in and the doors sealed themselves shut never to open again. Manic, intoxicated laughter could be heard on top of the resistance base. He was there. "Can't you hear it? The entire world, stood still on a point, a knifes edge and frozen in a balance, a stalemate, and now it's all crumbling! All of it! All of it falling apart! Every face, every voice, every thought they ever had, all of it shattered! You made this world! Haha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!" He saw it all moving as it happened. Saw through the troopers eyes, felt their movements, their emotions. Felt the color drain from the resistance members faces. Felt their hopelessness, their fear. Felt them as they desperately tried to hide away, their ragged breaths as they shook as the footsteps approached, their hearts stopping as they saw the lights of the troopers guns focus on them. The cruel pride the troopers felt as they did it all. He even whispered some hiding places into some of their heads, just as an added bonus. There was no way he could have lost this. In either case, he would have won. Now though, at this moment, he felt it. This is what he had wanted from her. Unrelenting, devoid of mercy, and certain of her choices. This, he thought, was a wonderful, momentous night.

#Star Wars #Sith Lord #Tali

2 notes · View notes

ask-glados · 5 years ago

Text

GLaDOS Liveplay [Part 3]

We start off chapter 3 and GLaDOS isn’t here to offer any comments in the elevator room because she’s busy fixing the reactor core. There’s some misbehaving panels that need to be recalibrated, but the reactor core is a more pressing issue for her at the moment.

When you get on the Aerial Faith Plate here, your trajectory doesn’t reach all the way to the ceiling because Wheatley has hacked into the panels and raised the ceiling up to talk to you and let you know that he’s okay. He’s been trying to hack into other panels in the other test chambers to talk to you, and you can see him peeking in at several points, but GLaDOS was always there, watching through her cameras, and he didn’t want to talk to you where GLaDOS could see and hear him. He finally finds a good, private spot to hack the panels and talk to you here, and he’s able to move the panels without GLaDOS noticing because she’s away at the moment.

The Aerial Faith Plate senses that a weight was launched but no sensors were tripped on its landing pad. (The landing pad is usually indicated by the glowing circle symbol that shows where you’ll land, though that symbol isn’t always there, so I assume the sensor must just be on the other side of whatever panel it launches you to.) So, the panel sends a distress signal to GLaDOS and she comes back from fixing the core.

She returns with a sigh to her tone. She’s been working hard on fixing the reactor core, and she might not even be finished with that yet, only to get a notification that you somehow broke an Aerial Faith Plate. She isn’t aware of Wheatley’s presence, so she probably thinks you’re just doing this on purpose to annoy her.

She doesn’t even have an insult for you here, she just kinda sighs and tries to fix it for you.

The plate still doesn’t work because Wheatley has raised the ceiling, but GLaDOS doesn’t know that, and she can’t figure out why it’s not working, so she just assumes it’s the maximum carrying capacity of the plate and uses that as an opportunity to make more fat jokes.

Eventually, she just resorts to lowering the ceiling, not realizing that the height of the ceiling was actually the whole issue to begin with.

And naturally, she follows up on that fat joke just because she’s annoyed at you for breaking that Aerial Faith Plate.

We see more rogue panels playing around in the next chamber

GLaDOS, please. You’re attached to the ceiling. You literally cannot “go” anywhere.

Anyway, it’s unclear if she is just completely lying here, or if she actually has cameras up on the surface that she’s checking. A deer WOULD make sense given the rural landscape that you see above Aperture at the end of the game, but who knows with her. She could just be making it up. Also, it’s interesting how she says “yesterday,” as if a day has already passed, which I feel like it hasn’t. I think she’s just trying to mess with Chell’s perception of time, since there’s no way to tell what time of day it is, given how GLaDOS simulates daylight at all hours.

Given how she’s going to be looking for replacement test subjects after she fixes the facility up and kills Chell, and how desperate she is to find human test subjects in CO-OP after Atlas and P-Body fail to satisfy her testing itch, she’s probably lying here — about both the deer and the humans. Because she would’ve jumped at the chance to get some more human test subjects, and she doesn’t want to keep Chell around that long, because Chell’s too dangerous.

Yeah, I think she’s just trying to rub in the fact that you want to be free and go to the surface and that you’re never going to get to do that, because she plans to kill you soon.

Ah, yes, the beautiful blue hard-light bridges that inspired my GLaDOS hologram headcanon, which is made out of the same technology, but modified to be less hot, in full color, and three-dimensional~ :3 (shameless self-promotion pfft)

GLaDOS refers to herself as someone who is “only trying to help them.” She genuinely believes that she is helping out mankind and the world of science by testing humans. She thinks any human should feel privileged to have been a part of something greater than themselves like this. She also thinks that she herself is on a whole other level than the human species, and that being killed and mistreated can’t possibly apply to her. She is the authority and others are supposed to serve and respect her.

Aperture doesn’t do business with the outside world anymore, and Aperture appears to have become self-sufficient, so money should be irrelevant. So, either GLaDOS is making this all up, or she’s actually still following money protocols that were programmed into her back when money was still relevant to Aperture.

GLaDOS is still repairing the place, so there are still some messed up panels, but it’s gradually looking better and better.

She’s still bitter about you breaking that Aerial Faith Plate, lol. She passive aggressively grumbles about how she is going to have to repair the door now too, because no one else is going to. She really does feel like she does a lot of work around here which no one takes the time to appreciate or give her credit for. She also hisses at you to not touch anything while she’s gone, lest you break something else like how you broke the Aerial Faith Plate.

And once again, the cause of the malfunction is actually Wheatley behind the scenes, which GLaDOS still hasn’t realized.

She’s been working hard, and she’s losing patience with all the malfunctions happening around the facility, so she just straight-up kills the door mainframe AI and replaces it with a new one. Apparently, even the doors have AI cores in them.

More snark.

You can see the shed from the end of the game here in the Hard-Light Bridges demonstration of how sunlight is pumped down from the surface to create hard-light.

As you go through these first few chapters of the game, the Aperture logo in the loading screen goes from a dirty, unlit one to a clean and glowing logo. It’s a neat little detail to reflect how GLaDOS is tidying everything up.

This elevator room is in much worse condition than the gradually improving states of the others you’ve been going through because it’s the old turret test chamber from Portal 1.

This elevator room is broken, so you drop below onto the catwalks to enter the next test chamber.

Again, she makes reference to “yesterday.” It’s only been a few hours. Come on, GLaDOS, you weren’t even awake yesterday. She’s just trying to confuse you about the passage of time to make you believe that it could have been your birthday yesterday. It probably wasn’t your birthday, she’s just making that up as an excuse to give you a “surprise.”

This part is really cool. As you enter the next test chamber, you get to see how the test chambers are assembled down below, which involves panels coming along a conveyor belt from the factory down to the testing track, where mechanical arms put them into place.

There she goes bragging about her immortality again, and of course, she’s following up on the birthday thing as an excuse to give you a surprise. I’m guessing this so-called “medical procedure/experiment” basically just refers to filling you with neurotoxin and killing you.

Now she’s trying to make you feel self-conscious about your outfit. She’s just being really petty now, looking for any ammo that can possibly be used to upset a human.

She’s lying, obviously. She doesn’t have any humans in cryogenic storage. All the ones in the Relaxation Center are dead. Of course, in CO-OP, she manages to find some humans in cryogenic storage hidden in Old Aperture, but she doesn’t know about that right now. She’s just going back to preying on the whole “Chell is an orphan” thing again, trying to make Chell feel hopeful about meeting her parents so that she can crush Chell’s hopes and dreams when the surprise turns out to be fake.

Can’t forget to include the singing turrets. :)

Rattmann’s painting here depicts how Aperture’s immoral practices led to karma, where they created something even more morally reprehensible than themselves: GLaDOS, which led to their demise. They didn’t value human life when it came to how they treated test subjects, and GLaDOS just took it a step further by not valuing human life in general, which included them.

An interesting fun fact here! GLaDOS was actually supposed to hum “Happy Birthday” here to go along with her whole ‘birthday surprise’ theme, but back when this game came out in 2011, “Happy Birthday” was still copyrighted, and you had to pay lots of money in royalties if you wanted to use it in any form. However, thanks to a lawsuit in 2016, the song is no longer copyrighted! Hurray! #Petition to have Valve put GLaDOS humming “Happy Birthday” back in Portal 2? XD

For once, GLaDOS is taking a jab at someone who isn’t Chell. I guess she’s just flaunting her superiority and power at this point.

It sounds like she was just pretending to be distracted by other things like Nobel prize winners, trying to make Chell think she’d forgotten about her and her birthday surprise, in an attempt to make Chell more anxious and apprehensive about getting her surprise.

That concludes chapter 3 and part 3 of this GLaDOS Liveplay! Again, I really hope you’re enjoying this! :D

#Portal #Portal 2 #GLaDOS #Aperture Science #Liveplay #Live Play #GLaDOS Liveplay #Analysis #GLaDOS Analysis #Portal Analysis #Portal 2 Analysis #long post

33 notes · View notes

thanksjro · 4 years ago

Text

Last Stand of the Wreckers PsyOps records- Can we PLEASE Hire Some More Mental Health Specialists?

Rung gets a lot of play in the Last Stand of the Wreckers bonus materials. He was still more of a play-on-words as opposed to an actual character at the time, so I suppose it makes sense.

Rotorstorm walked into his appointment with Rung and immediately started hyping himself up. That’s very telling. When Rung asked about his time at Simanzi, he sort of shut down and wasn’t able to hide behind his defense mechanism of being the funniest, coolest, bravest, all-around-bestest guy in the room.

Rotorstorm was basically born, then thrown into the Aerial Program, where all that awful stuff with Jetstream happened. Dude was beating up an infant.

Motherfucker’s got some trauma, obviously, but apparently that’s not enough to disqualify him from Wrecker duty. Wrecker duty that he didn’t even want, I should add.

You gotta sign up for the Wrecker roster; he’d been on it before, but had dropped out to teach instead. Either someone set this poor guy up to die, or Jetstream was wrong this whole time and he really just is that good. Not that it mattered much- the damage is done. Rotorstorm has crippling self-doubt, and is also dead.

Pyro suffers from a programming disorder known as primus apotheosis, identified by the sufferer’s need to emulate the great Optimus Prime. Many Autobots are afflicted with this disorder, and even a few Decepticons have been known to have it. The fact that Pyro had primus apotheosis makes panels like this:

-all the more sad. This is a guy who’s had his own personality overwritten- by his own hero worship- in an attempt to be greater than himself. Pyro is by no means a slouch when it comes to saving the day- he saved an entire platoon of Autobots as a member of the Resistance.

Then Simanzi happened.

There isn’t a ton known about the Simanzi Massacre, only that it was so bad, the Cybertronian population was halved by the time it was over. Pyro would have been just another statistic, had it not been for Optimus Prime’s intervention. Does survivor’s guilt have some part in his disorder? It’s certainly possible. All that can be said for sure is that nobody got out of Simanzi unscathed.

Pyro was approved for the Wreckers with reservations, seeing as primus apotheosis sufferers can and will sacrifice themselves for others if given any wiggle room in which to do so. The Wreckers were just lucky that Pyro wanted to go out in style. It didn’t really work for him, but points for trying.

Guzzle isn’t his legal name. Much like Chromedome, he’s called what he’s called due to meddling with the war. Originally Pneumatix, and a forklift of all things- the name being a play on the word “Pneumatic”, because forklifts work by using compressed air to lift things- he entered the Body Augmentation Program. This turned him into something called a ruination tank. That’s why his turret accounts for nearly half of his height- they basically turned a Mini Cooper into a weapon of mass destruction. Because he’s meant to be actually very tiny, his body compensates for the added stress by being so insanely fuel-inefficient, he has to constantly eat. Thus the nickname.

Guzzle didn’t exactly impress Rung at his appointment, coming across as a rather cold, distant individual when it came to his own emotions, describing his own near-death experience at the hands of the Decepticons in terms of what weaponry was used to try to kill him. Still, he was approved for the Garrus-9 mission.

It’s at this point that you have to wonder just how many people are actually on the waiting list for this group.

First Aid about had a panic attack when he thought Springer was inviting him to join the Wreckers, so it’s obviously a known thing that members don’t last terribly long, or at least, it’s something that can be inferred through reading about them.

Looking at past members, it’s rather telling what sort of person is attracted to the Wrecker lifestyle; Whirl is an emotional powder keg that’s constantly trying to light his own fuse, Impactor defied wartime sanctions to murder the his rivals, Roadbuster is a hardcore drug abuser who ripped someone’s spine out, and Kup can only function in polite society if he’s smoking medicinal marijuana at all times. These are not stable individuals. Springer is the odd exception, and I’m counting Perceptor as a borderline case, because he went through a massive personality shift that led him to where he was within the group. He may appear “normal” when compared to the others, but that guy’s for sure got some issues that he keeps close to his chest.

Given all of this, it’s not really much of a leap to say that Rotorstorm got thrown back on the list because they didn’t have anyone else who wanted in on this madness. It’s also not much of a leap to say that the only reason any of these guys got approved to join was because there weren’t any other options. The psych-screenings were probably just done as a professional obligation at that point. Rung, for all his faults, was likely working with what he’d been given.

I’m not exactly sure where these profiles were meant to reside within Last Stand’s timeline, given that Rotorstorm and Pyro are classified as being probably alive, whereas Ironfist is not.

Ironfist spends a good portion of his appointment with Rung fanboying over the Wreckers, as he is wont to do. When he actually gets around to talking about himself, he’s not nearly as eloquent or organized. Rung did not approve Ironfist for the mission, based solely on his lack of experience in the field of busting heads. He only got on the team due to Prowl’s interference, as has been established before.

Fisitron is revealed to have been a writer of many talents, publishing articles for all ages and reading levels. He was an author you could grow up on.

Impactor’s profile was written at the time of his probationary hearing, and it seems to imply that Rung may be a bit of an idiot. He had dismissed the guard who was present, in an attempt to get Impactor to be more open with him. This went about as well as that sort of thing usually goes for the only mental health specialist on all of Cybertron.

Looks like someone’s got a fear of mnemosurgery. With this little event in his past, it’s very surprising that Rung tried to offer it to Fortress Maximus in MTMTE #6.

Maybe Rung accidentally stuck a really big magnet to the side of his head at some point, thus erasing his memory files, because I know that I sure wouldn’t be offering that sort of thing if this was the average reaction to it.

After Impactor had had his moment, he shared some of his war stories with Rung- apparently his lack of a right hand was inspired by meeting Death’s Head.

Though Death’s Head isn’t directly named, it’s pretty obvious that’s who it’s intended to be, given that he’s mentioned as “ricocheting from universe to universe after leaping through an exploding time portal.” This is in reference to the events that took place in the Marvel UK storyline “The Legacy of Unicron!” This is also what happened to him prior to the events of Eugenesis.

Rung is aware of these events due to having read Wreckers: Declassified. I’m not sure how I feel about Wreckers: Declassified being a valid resource for Rung to pull from, considering Fisitron self-described with the word “dramatist” in “Bullets”.

The session had to be ended when Rung tried to psychoanalyze Impactor in a way he wasn’t ready for, as the man threatened to crush his brain like a grape between his fingers.

Lot of Eugenesis vibes in this entry.

We don’t get any history on Impactor, as it’s been scrubbed from the record at someone’s request. Is it related to his relationship with Megatron? The events that would eventually be revealed in Sins of the Wreckers? Maybe it’s just left like that to create intrigue for the eventual sequel series, Sins of the Wreckers. Who knows? I certainly don’t.

That’s the end of Rung’s reports, but we still have a couple more characters to get through.

Rotorstorm, Snare, and Swindle must go to the same body shop, because they’re the only guys who have eyes/visors that aren’t a primary color. It’s an interesting little character design choice, and I can’t help but wonder if there was some sort of reason for it.

…I genuinely wasn’t expecting an answer for that. Neat!

Snare’s kind of a loner, which works out pretty well for him, since he’s usually on surveillance duty. He’s also a sadist, having developed some nasty ways to keep prisoners in line. “Morphcore stimulation” is mentioned, and it’s less fun than it sounds, not that it sounds terribly fun in the first place. The fact that even Snare thought Overlord was a bit much is very telling.

If you’re unfamiliar with the term “morphcore”, don’t feel bad about it, because it’s only ever been used in one piece of media up until this point. Morphcores were a small bundle of nerves at the base of the Cybertronian brain that controlled transformation, as explained in Eugenesis. This term would quickly be switched out for the more well-known “transformation cog” for brand cohesion. The really funny thing is that that this section is attributed to Nick Roche. It would seem that TMUK is a hard state of mind to shake off.

This won’t be the only time Roche and Roberts team-up to completely miss the mark on how the IDW continuity functions- the Dire Wraith in The Revolution oneshot they wrote together was running off of the Marvel UK iteration of the species.

Overlord doesn’t have a profile, per se, but rather a transcript of a correspondence between Megatron and a guy named Gorelock.

Gorelock apologizes for not getting in contact sooner, explaining that the reason he’s been radio silent is because Overlord fucking showed up out of nowhere, after cutting and running from the Decepticause years prior. Whether Megatron had actually heard Overlord’s message or just figured it out from context clues isn’t clarified.

Gorelock super-duper promises that he and his guys didn’t just stand there pissing themselves in fear as Overlord strolled through their ranks, and they super-duper totally fought him until Gorelock decided to hear the guy out. For sure. Absolutely.

It turns out, Overlord was never actually dismissed from the rank of the Decepticons, which means that he outranks Gorelock, and Gorelock was therefore compelled to grant him a favor.

The favor is wrecking an entire empire’s shop. Gorelock complies with this request, purely due to being outranked. Absolutely. For sure.

Once the contract was completed in full, Overlord fucked off into space.

You know, not enjoying your hobbies anymore can be a sign of depression.

And that’s why Gorelock hasn’t kept in touch! I’m sure Megtron will be very understanding about this whole thing.

Or not!

#transformers #jro #last stand of the wreckers #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #wreckers trilogy

43 notes · View notes