#*steeples my fingers like a mad scientist*

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

guess who finished Act 4 of the Sumeru quests >:D

spoiler: it’s me!!!!!! :DD

[mythrilhusk]

Korosensei Never Dies - Chapter 6

Words - 1967 Ao3 Version Chapter 5 (last) Chapter 7 (Next)

AN: Just wanted to note (although it’s already in tags) that there are no ships in this story. The characters may be affectionate with each other, but it’s all platonic. 

====

Exams are the worst part of school, but the end of the first term approaches fast. Tommy determines he will not fail. Philza has promised to teach them how to fight, and by the ever-loving stars, Tommy wants to show off his mad skillz. 

He's so intent on getting fighting lessons that he's dragged his friends into group study sessions. Wilbur insists on leading said sessions, and somehow the schoolwork gets entwined with role-playing battles with fiercesome monsters. 

"The answer is forty-two!! I pull out a bazooka and blast everything to smithereens!" Tubbo cackles. "Nothing shall stand in the way of world domination." 

"Tubbo," Wilbur sighs for the fortieth time. "That would kill all of your teammates." 

"Do I care?" Tubbo grins innocently. "Less competition, big man!" 

"I lay down and die." Ranboo says drily, leaning against the wall with his arm around Tubbo's shoulders. 

"Not you, Ranboo, you're going to be my puppet queen. Every world-dominating super-villain needs a puppet queen." Tubbo says, quite matter-of-fact.

Tommy scrawls messily on his workbook, determined to complete the next answer first and get a turn. "Ha! Fucking x equals twenty-nine!" He crows. "I shoot my nets at Tubbo and capture him!!" 

"Stand-off." Wilbur says with a grin. "Who wrote Frankenstein?" 

"Some woman with a boring name." Tommy retorts. 

"Anne Rice!" Tubbo cries. 

"Tommy, you got the closer answer. It was Mary Shelley." 

"Alright, I win, and I say 'Hahaha, you fucking imbecile, you are no match for me!' and then I drag them to jail." 

"I completed my worksheet, Wilbur." Eret pipes up. Wilbur takes it, then nods for Eret to complete his bonus action. "I stab Tommy and release Tubbo, saying, 'The world is yours for the taking, but allow me to oversee a portion of it.' and then I kneel and plant my sword in the dust." 

"Oh! Oh!" Tubbo waves his worksheet in the air. "Ranboo, stab him for me!" 

"As you wish." Ranboo sighs with a wicked grin. Eret protests weakly in the background. 

"Ranboo, you need to answer a question correctly, first." Wilbur steeples his fingers. "Or else there will be penalties." 

"I, uh, I think I got this one correct." Ranboo shows his study sheet to Wilbur, who nods curtly. 

"Fine, go ahead." 

Ranboo turns to Eret and says in a dark tone, "You betrayed your friend. I can't trust you, Eret." Then he turns to Wilbur, "I run him through with my dagger." 

"Eret, you're now a ghost." Wilbur shuffles through his game notes. 

"Aw, man. Can I haunt anyone?" 

"Yes."

"I haunt Ranboo to remind him of his crimes." 

"Aw, dang, another voice." Ranboo groans playfully. 

"Whaddya mean, another??" Tubbo cries. "Am I being replaced, Ranboo??" 

"You- you are the voice." Ranboo laughs nervously. "Even when you're dead, I'll still hear you, shouting at me to not kill the bees." 

"You better not. I worked hard to cultivate our apiary." 

"I won't, I won't." 

Tommy finishes his worksheet, ignoring the chatter of the others. "Ha!" He turns it into a paper plane and throws it to Wilbur. "I want twelve actions now!" 

"Okay, Tommy." Wilbur replies with a sly smile. The others protest, but Tommy has Wilbur wrapped around his little finger, so they won't be winning this battle. 

"But! I want to split them up between us, because I'm a fucking nice person who loves women." 

"Go ahead." 

"My first action as King de facto of the world is to declare peace between the Moon and Mars." 

"Wait, wait, you're king?? Eret, you didn't even kill him properly!!" Tubbo throws up his hands. "Ranboo, kill Tommy for me." 

"Hypothetically, what if I didn't?" 

"Ranboo. Are you betraying me??" 

"No, no, I said hypothetically." 

"Then, hypothetically, I would nuke your entire homeland and make you watch as I killed your family before your very eyes." 

"Oh! Oh, no." 

"And then I would torture you to death." 

"Oh, man. That would not be good." 

"So are you going to betray me?" 

"Apparently not." 

"Aw, man. I wanted to torture somebody." Tubbo sighs. 

Ranboo gives Tommy a look that says 'help me'. 

"You both lost your turns for talking too long." Wilbur decides. "Tommy and Eret, you both have an extra turn." 

"I turn corporeal using necromancy, and I use Tubbo's soul as the energy source, draining him of life." Eret says, his cheerful eyes belying his dark tone. 

"No! Ranboo, avenge meeeee!!" Tubbo cries melodramatically to the heavens. 

"Oh no! I'll avenge you!!" 

"I kill Ranboo." Tommy cackles at the horrified look on Ranboo's face. 

"Oh, that's not good." 

"How do you kill him, Tommy?" Wilbur asks. 

"I stab the bastard through the fucking eyes." 

"Oh. Man. That sounds painful." Ranboo winces.

"It is. You're screaming like a fucking bitch." 

"Am I? Oh dang, that's not fun. Am I a ghost now?" 

"Ghostboo." Tubbo laughs. "You're now Ghostboo." 

"You're Toast, you don't get to mock my name." 

Tommy frowns. "What's my ghost name?"

"Ghommy." Ranboo laughs. "Eret is Gheret." 

"Tommy, you think we're ready for the exams?" Wilbur gathers the papers scattered across the floor.  

"Fuck yeah, we are. We'll crush those bastards to dust. We'll get the highest grades of anybody in the entire school!"

++++

"What do you mean, you can't transfer me?? My grades are the worst they've ever been in years!!" Jack cries, stomping his foot on the polished wood floor of the principal's office. 

"I'm sorry, duckie, but I can't let anyone transfer between classes this year." Puffy-- rumored to be a pirate in a past life and therefore always called Captain-- frowns as she flicks through Jack's portfolio. "Why did you want to be transferred, anyway?" 

"No reason." Jack grumbles, then stomps out of the office, slamming the door behind himself. 

"How'd it go?" Niki hops down from one of the pillars. 

"Terribly. Those bastards in 3-E must've told Captain Puffy to not let anyone in. They're probably planning to take over the world now, using Techno as bait!" Jack cries, his eyes burning with furious tears. 

"That's awful!" Niki wails. "What will we do?" 

"What do heroes do to villains? We bomb them." 

"Bomb them?" 

"I don't know how yet." Jack grins, filled with burning rage. "But we'll think of something." 

"I know a man." Niki says decisively. "He'll get us supplies. If they really are planning to end the world, we need to stop them." 

++++

Exams roll around, and 3-E joins the the main school buildings for the tests. Quackity and Sapnap both leap on and hug Karl Jacobs. Tommy strides through the testing auditorium like he owns the place, with Wilbur glaring at everyone and Tubbo whetting his dagger with a placid smile. 

Fundy watches the chaos from the sidelines, chewing on caramel taffy and bubblegum at the same time. He doesn't recognize the quiet boy huddled in a corner and writing. Before he can creep over and look at the boy's words, Eret accosts him. "Hey, man." 

"Oh, hey!" Fundy grins and hugs his friend. "What've you been up to?" 

"Oh, just trying to stop the world from ending and make a profit in the process, you know, the usual." 

"Right, right. What's up with that, anyway? This guy, Technoblade? He must be really hard to kill if nobody's done it yet." 

"We have till the year ends." Eret says gravely. 

"Right. But why hasn't anybody, I don't know, tried to get in on the action?" 

"The government is supposed to be keeping his location a secret." Eret adjusts his sunglasses. 

"Weird." Fundy pops a bubble between his lips. 

"Indeed. I know there must be a weakness. But I'm not sure what it is."

"Maybe it's something like technical immortality! Maybe he can only be killed if he lets it happen!" Fundy theorizes, chewing more intensely. 

Eret grimaces. "Perhaps. Threatening his friend, Philza, directly is out of the question. But perhaps we can get the kill switch from the president." 

"Woah, woah, back up!" Fundy laughs. "There's already a kill switch in his friend and the prezz hasn't thought to use that??" 

"Well, he's a hostage, but- oh." 

"Exactly!! If the prezz actually wanted him dead, all they'd have to do is threaten to kill this Philza dude if Techno doesn't let himself be killed!" Fundy blows another bubble and pops it with his teeth. "Damn, I'm good." 

"That's assuming Technoblade would die if he allowed it. What if he can't?" Eret muses. 

"He has to have some weakness. How was he even created??" 

"I- I don't know." 

"The only way a mutant like that could be created is through Human intervention, aka a laboratory and scientists!!" Fundy claps his hands together excitedly. "But why would scientists create a creature who can destroy the world?? Unless he can't, and this is all just a damn test." 

"Hmm." Eret doesn't sound convinced. 

"So, they're trying to develop immortality, and they're testing it on Technoblade-"

"Why him?" Eret asks. "And if it is a test, why here, with a bunch of students?"

"He got loose before the tests could be finalized, and they're trying to contain him again!" Fundy starts pacing. "He was a terrorist, yeah? I remember him in the news. The Acolyte." 

"Blood for the blood god." Eret reminisces, paling. "That's right." 

"He only ever went after important government figures! But, five years ago, he disappeared, and nobody ever heard from him again. Until now..." Fundy grins wildly. "This is amazing, I can't believe I get front row seats to a conspiracy!" 

"Wait." Eret groans. "He had a partner." 

"Oh! He did?" 

"Technoblade was the Acolyte. But his partner was the Angel. What if that was-" 

"Philza!!" Fundy cries. "Oh god, we have both of the most deadly international terrorists in my school!! Why couldn't I have worn better clothes??" 

"I don't think that should be our main concern." Eret steeples his fingers. "I think we should worry more about what they're planning to do." 

"I'm going to talk to Captain Puffy." Fundy decides. "Come with me?" 

"I'll pass. Good luck." 

"I've got the best luck in the world." Fundy crows and skips off. He glances back once, briefly, only to see Eret watching him with an unreadable expression. 

++++

Tipsy, Schlatt lounges on one of the pristine metal tables. In the background, HBomb sweeps up the shards of a broken whiskey bottle, the remnants of a drunken tantrum. 

"Heyyy." Schlatt greets the mercenary waiting in the doorway. "Come on in." 

"How much do I get paid for my trouble?" The mercenary asks, slouching in a too-large purple hoodie and baggy pants. 

"Fifteen billion, take it or leave it." Schlatt grins. 

"I'll take it. But this is the last time." 

"Sure, honey." 

"How'd you lose him again?" 

"Bitch killed half my fucking scientists." Schlatt shrugs genially, hiding his irritation. "But we've got a neutralizing agent, now." He tosses a capsule to the mercenary, who catches it and inspects it. "Inject that and he'll be as harmless as a two-ton hippo." 

"That's hardly what I'd call harmless." 

"Eh, semantics. He won't be immortal." 

"Hmm." The mercenary pockets the neutralizer. "I'll do it. But you'd better pay me exactly what you promised, or he dies." 

"C'mon, darling, what do you take me for? A scam artist?? Nah, that's not my fucking style. Return him safe and sound, and everything will be just fine." Schlatt lights a cigar, takes a deep drag, then lets it all out in a slow plume. "Do as I say and nobody gets hurt." 

++++

Eret opens his buzzing phone and answers, "Hey." 

"Crocodiles don't cry often." The familiar voice says coldly into their ear. 

"Crocodile tears are worthless." Eret replies. 

Purpled laughs on the other end. "What do you say, partner? Ready to make some dough?" 

Eret grins, baring her teeth. "Always." 

Chapter 7 (Next)

[orangeoctopi7]

Champions: Part 2

I said when I wrote part 1 for Stanuary last year that I planned on continuing this... it just took way longer than I expected. 

Well, now I get to use part two for @stanuary 2021!

Chapter 2

“Gather ‘round everyone!” Linkara called in his team one morning. “I just got the dossier on my first opponent in the Contest of Champions.” 

Jaeris, his coach, Dr. Linksano, his science expert, Pollo, his producer, and Harvey Finevoice, the general voice of reason, were all gathered in Linkara’s office. 

“Who’s the guy?” Harvey asked.

“A man named Stanley Pines.”. Linkara answered, passing out photocopies of the documents.

“Huh, so they set you up with another first-timer.” Jaeris observed, scanning over the information. “He even comes from an alternate Earth a lot like yours.”

“So, they have you fighting a sextagenarian old man who runs a tourist trap?” Linksano asked incredulously.

“He’s a sextagenarian old man who destroyed an interdimensional chaos demon.” Linkara corrected. “He wouldn’t be in the Contest of Champions if he wasn’t a serious contender. Besides, I’m a middle-aged guy who reviews comic books on the internet, I’m hardly one to judge what this guy’s day-job is.”

“So who gets to choose the battle this time?” Pollo asked. 

“We don’t know yet.” Linkara answered. “I think they’re supposed to let us know later today. But with the interdimensional temporal differences, we might not find out until next week.” 

One of the Temlin’s hooded envoys appeared in the middle of the room, interrupting the discussion. 

“Or, y’know, we could find out right now.” 

* * *

Meanwhile, in Gravity Falls....

It had been a few months since Stan’s preliminary round in the Contest of Champions, and the elder Pines twins were back at the Mystery Shack for the summer. The Temlins had left them with a sort of “open channel” for communication, which Ford had connected to his monitoring equipment.

It’d been so long since they’d heard anything, that Stan was beginning to wonder if the whole thing wasn’t some sort of elaborate joke. Then one day, while Mabel was making breakfast, the alarm went off, and that creepy hooded hologram from before showed up in the middle of the kitchen.

Poor Mabel was so startled she almost dropped her pitcher of Mabel Juice, and Stan nearly made a move for his nearest gun before he realized what it was.

“Ford, that thing’s back!” He yelled.

The old researcher had already been rushing to the kitchen after he heard the alarm go off, and he appeared in the doorway just a second after Stan yelled. A still-sleepy Dipper was not far behind him.

“What’s going on?” the boy asked, rubbing crusties out of his eyes. 

“It’s that stinkin’ contest thing I told you about!” Stan explained. “They finally remembered I exist, huh?”

“It’s all due to temporal differences.” Ford assured him. “I’m honestly surprised we didn’t have to wait longer.”

“Champion Stanley Pines, the time has come to set your first contest.” The hologram informed him. “For this round, you have been randomly selected to choose the nature of your competition.”

“Oh, really?” Stan grinned and slipped into conman mode. “Well, I’m really happy to hear that! Why don’t you have a seat and join us for breakfast while we talk?”

“Stanley, it’s a hologram.” Ford pointed out, but the Temlin emissary sat down at their little table.

“Why don’t you pour the nice alien hologram some Mabel Juice, Pumpkin.” Stan suggested. Mabel beamed and poured a tall glass for their guest. 

“Oh boy, you’re in for a treat! I added extra Fizz Flints this time!”

Just as Ford was about to point out that, as a hologram, their guest couldn’t even pick up the glass, much less drink it, the Temlin emissary stared intently at the drink, and it began to empty, almost like an invisible straw was sipping it away.

“Incredible. We have explored the vast reaches of time and space. We understand the most intricate machinations of the universe. And yet we have never encountered a beverage like this.”

“Aww, thanks!” Mabel accepted their compliment graciously. “There’s more where that came from!” She filled the glass again.

“Heheh, yeah, sure there is sweetie.” Stan scooted her away and took a seat opposite of their guest. “Don’t give ‘em too much at once, kiddo, we want ‘em to savor it!”

Mabel nodded sagely. “That is so true. Let me know when you’re ready for more, Mr. Temlin.”

“Alright, alright, you kids run along. Me and Bigwig here are gonna talk business.”

The kids left with only minor protests. Ford was still standing in the doorway, trying to wrap his head around what he’d just witnessed. 

“Ford, didn’t you have some sort of big project you were workin’ on?” Stan asked his brother pointedly.

“Hmm? Oh, no, nothing particularly urgent, at least….” 

Stan shot his brother a significant glare.

“Oh! Oh, yes, I do have er, temporal disturbances to, ah, compare. Just… let me know when you’re done.”

“Now.” Stan said slyly as he sat across from the Temlin Emissary and steepled his fingers. “About this competition…”

*  *  *

“Champion Linkara, the time has come to set your first contest.” The hooded hologram declared. “While for this round, the decision ultimately rests with your opponent, you will be granted time to meet together and discuss the conditions of the competition. Speak aloud your readiness to begin the meeting, and it shall be done.”

“What, right now?” Harvey wondered incredulously.

“Eh, no time like the present.” Linkara reasoned. “So, is he coming here, or am I going there?”

“Champion Stanley Pines has agreed to meet in this location. He has also requested permission to bring a guest. Do you find this acceptable?”

“Sure, why not.” Linkara shrugged.

With a shimmer, the hologram disappeared, and two nearly identical old men took its place. They were both tall, broad-shouldered, and square jawed, with large ears, bulbous noses, and fluffy grey hair. One word a navy blue hoodie, the other a dark brown fisherman’s coat and a red beanie.

“Huh, not what I was expecting.” The one in the beanie grunted. “Just looks like someone’s basement. I thought the file said this guy had a spaceship.”

“I do, it’s undergoing some repairs right now.” Linkara stepped forward and extended a hand in greeting. “So, which one of you is Stanley Pines?”

The one in the hoodie gave him a piercing look, but the one in the beanie grinned and accepted the handshake. “That’s me. You can just call me Stan. This here’s my brother, Ford.”

Ford was looking around at Linkara’s gathered team. His gaze lingered on Linksano and Harvey. “Triplets, I presume? Incredible, what are the odds that two Champions from sets of multiples would end up competing against each other?”

“Whaddaya mean, triplets?” Harvey asked in confusion.

“Oh, come on, you three look even more alike than me an’ Ford, and we’re twins!” Stan scoffed.

“No we don’t!” Linksano protested. “I wear goggles, and he wears a hat!”

“What hat?” Linkara asked innocently.

“Yeah, you two wish you were as good lookin’ as me.” Harvey quipped. 

“Er, weren’t we supposed to be setting the terms of your first match?” Pollo reminded them.

“Remarkable! Are you a sentient robot?” Ford leaned down for a closer look.

“Yes, and like most sentient beings, I don’t enjoy being stared at.”

“O-oh, of course!” Ford quickly folded his arms behind his back. “I apologize.”

“Uh, anyway, about that contest thing…” Stan steered the conversation back to the point. “I already talked with those Temlin guys, and it’s gonna be dirty boxing! They promised us a ring an’ everything!”

“What!?” Linkara protested. “How the h___ is dirty boxing a fair and reasonable battle? It has dirty in the name!”

“No hard feelin’s, kid, but you’re half my age, I need all the advantages I can get!” Stan defended. “‘Sides, I’ve read your file, I know you’ve got some experience fightin’ hand-to-hand.”

“I’ve read your file too, you used to be a professional prize fighter!”

“Tch, yeah, when I was in my 20’s. An’ it didn’t last long, believe me.”

“I thought the whole point of this meeting was to discuss the terms of the fight and come to an agreement!”

“Eh, that’s more of a formality than anything.” Jaeris clarified. “Since the final decision rests with whoever the Temlins chose, this time’s more for sizin’ each other up than convincin’ the other guy to even the playing field.”

“So what, whoever gets to pick the contest is basically guaranteed victory!?”

“Eh, not necessarily.” Jaeris corrected. “I didn’t get to pick my first round neither, an’ I still managed to come out on top by outsmartin’ my opponent.”

“Yeah, good luck with that, bucko.” Stan smirked.

“Stanley, don’t antagonize the man.” Ford chided him. “You’ve already literally given him an excuse to punch you in the face.”

“That’s the idea, genius.” Stan rolled his eyes. “But seriously, good luck with your preparations and stuff. I’m lookin’ forward to the fight, should be fun.” He grinned warmly at his opponent. “So, uh, are we done here? How do we get back to the boat?”

The air around them shimmered, and they disappeared just as quickly as they’d arrived in the first place.

“...He seemed nice.” Jaeris commented after they’d left. “H___ of a lot nicer than my first opponent, that’s for sure.”

“Oh yeah, perfectly nice!” Linkara agreed with false cheer. “If you ignore the fact that he’s basically been given permission to cheat. What a load of bullcrap!” 

“You’re not going to give up just because your opponent has an unfair advantage, are you?” Pollo asked. 

“Oh no, I told you guys, I’m in it to win it.” the comic reviewer assured them. “I just need someone to complain to.”

“I mean, I guess you could try and file a complaint with the Temlins, but I wouldn’t count on it makin’ any difference.” Jaeris said.

“Alright. Dr. Linksano, could you start drafting a complaint letter?”

“I’m a mad scientist, not your secretary!”

“I’ll pay you by the word.”

“Deal.”

“In the meantime, if I’m gonna beat this guy, I am going to need a really great training montage!”

* * *

The day of the first round came. Both parties were teleported to a boxing ring that had been set up within the Temlins’ stadium. Linkara and his crew were set up in the green corner, while Stan and his brother were in the red. 

“Why are both of you fully dressed?” Linksano asked. “Don’t boxers usually just wear a pair of shorts?”

“You really think folks wanna see two outta shape guys fight topless?” Stan reasoned.

“Well, yes. Many people throughout the multiverse are very into that!”

“If you both feel more comfortable keepin’ your shirts on, then that’s the fight the Temlins are gonna put on.” Jaeris said.

“Contestants, enter the ring to begin your first round in the Contest of Champions!” The Temlins’ holographic envoy commanded.

Stan and Linkara both climbed into the ring, meeting in the center to shake hands and exchange pleasantries.

“So, uh, how long’s it been for you?” Stan asked.

“Eh, a couple of months. You?”

“Almost a year and a half. I almost forgot about this whole thing!”

“The contestants are in place. Fight with honor, fight with pride, most of all, fight well. Begin!”

“Kick his a__ kid!” Harvey cheered.

“You can do it, Stanley! Show him what the Pines family is made of!” Ford encouraged.

Stan made the first blow with a quick pop to the stomach and followed up by stepping on his opponent’s leading foot. 

“...oww…” Linkara groaned and reeled back a step or two, but otherwise looked as ready as ever.

Stan raised an eyebrow in surprise. He’d expected the out-of-shape comic reviewer to be a push-over, but the guy could take more punishment than he thought.

Linkara landed a haymaker square in Stan’s chest. It was clear the kid had no form and no training, but he certainly packed a wallop. 

They exchanged more sloppy blows. Most of the time, Stan didn’t have any trouble blocking the kid’s punches, but some of them were so wild and out there that he either didn’t see them coming or didn’t know how to block them.

“I AM A MAN!!” Linkara shouted, and despite the fact that it was as clearly telegraphed as possible, the punch was somehow impossible to block. The blow knocked Stan onto his back, and he was pretty sure there’d been a flash of light and some sound effects.

“What the heck was that!?” Stan quickly pulled himself up off the mat before the ref could ring the bell on him. 

“I dunno, it does something different every time.” Linkara shrugged.

Stan squared his shoulders. It was time to end this. “Left Hook!” He wound up and socked the guy right in the jaw. The blow was actually enough to spin the comic reviewer on his heel, and he fell to the floor.

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1… It’s a knockout!” The ref declared.

Stan stood over his defeated opponent. “You ok, kid?” He asked, offering a hand up.

“...and tha’s why Pow-Rangers Megforssss.... Iz zah bes’ seezin of all…” The comic review offered only a slurred non-sequitur as a reply. 

“Champion Linkara is unable to continue the fight! This match goes to--” The ref was about to hold Stan’s hand aloft in victory, when another Temlin Emissary, this one clearly different from the first, appeared.

“Stop these proceedings at once!” The hologram commanded with a booming voice. “There is reason to believe that Champion Stanley Pines bribed one of the Temlin Judges in order to receive an unfair advantage in this contest!”

“Ha! What? I dunno what this guy’s talkin’ about!” Stan insisted nervously. “I don’t even know what a bribe is!”

“How could anyone possibly bribe the Temlins? They’re all-powerful!” Ford asked. “I know Stan is quite the charmer, but what could my brother possibly offer them as a bribe?”

“A good question. We never would have guessed it was possible either, but Champion Linkara filed an official complaint. As we looked into his concerns, we found that our representative sent to determine the first competition with Champion Stanley Pines made themself unobservable for approximately 10 Earth Minutes. As for what Champion Stanley could have offered as a bribe, the answer is as simple as it is shocking: A new experience.” 

“What the h___ is that supposed to mean?” Harvey asked.

“The Temlins started this competition because they were bored with all their limitless power.” Jaeris recalled. “So if this guy was really able to show them somethin’ new, that might actually be enough to work as a bribe!”

“When we further investigated the representative in question, we found them in possession of a large quantity of a heretofore unknown beverage called Mabel Juice. Upon interrogation, the representative confessed to accepting the beverage in exchange for approving ‘Dirty Boxing’ as the round’s competition.”

“Dang it, should’ve known that alien jerk would rat me out.” Stan muttered under his breath.

“As a consequence, the representative has been suspended from duty, and Champion Stanley has been disqualified from the Contest of Champions.”

“And you guys couldn’t have disqualified him before he beat me up?” Linkara asked incredulously as he picked himself up off the mat.

“The match was already set to be broadcast, and there was no alternative to fill the time slot.”

“So, what, this guy wins after all?” Stan pointed to his opponent.

“Champion Linkara will be assigned a new opponent for his first round. We shall choose another Champion who had previously been in consideration for this tournament.”

“Oh come on! So I have to fight two first rounds!?” Linkara complained. 

“We shall inform you when your new opponent has been chosen.” The Temlin emissary continued as if they hadn’t heard him, before disappearing.

“So, uh, no hard feelings?” Stan grinned sheepishly, extending a handshake to Linkara.

“Yes! Yes, some hard feelings!” Linkara shouted at him.

“Welp, that’s my cue to get outta here. C’mon Ford!”

The elder Pines twins ducked into a portal back to the Stan’O’War II before the comic reviewer completely lost his temper. They sat down at the table and shared a hearty laugh.

Ford shook his head. “Stan, you’re the only person I know who could possibly bribe a race of all-powerful beings, and get away with it."

"Didn't quite get away with it, did I?" Stan shook his head. 

“Well, you may have been disqualified, but you weren’t zapped or banished to a featureless void, which is more than most people who have crossed the Temlins can say.”

Stan grinned. “Heh, well, that might’ve been because they all want a shot at trying Mabel Juice. I’d better call her. Somethin’ tells me she’s gonna get some extra-dimensional visitors in the near future.”

[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 9)

Jaig Eyes (Ch 9/?)

Always available here

Chapter Nine: The Blue Shadow Virus

“Kida,”  Padme whispered to me, my eyes opening slowly. I became aware of my surroundings suddenly, my arms tied behind my back and my body sore from sitting on the hard ground. “Kida, are you alright?”

I cleared my throat, letting out a small cough. “Yeah, I think so. What...what happened?” I became aware of the mask still over my face, my breathing labored within it.

Padme, who was tied to the same post as myself and Representative Binks, went to answer, but was cut off.

“Ah, she awakens!” the scientist cried with glee, steepling his fingers as he moved to examine me.

“What did you do to me?” I asked through gritted teeth. While I felt relatively normal, I knew something was wrong. Something deep inside me, whether it was my own body or the force, was telling me that something terrible had happened.

“I am performing an experiment,” the Faust said, holding up his spectacles to peer at me. “I infected you with a small dose of my virus. Contained to your mask, of course.”

“What have you done,” Padme gasped. “You’ve murdered her!”

“Have I?” the doctor asked rhetorically, his hands pulling my head to the side in thought. “She’s been infected for over an hour, yet despite initial loss of consciousness at the potency of the dose, the specimen shows no signs of infection.”

“What?” Padme breathed, shocked.

I wrenched my head to the side, pulling free of his grasp. “I guess your little virus doesn’t work as well as you’d hoped, Doctor,” I mocked.

He steepled his fingers with a smile. “I assure you, it does. Though I admit, I am excited to watch what my virus does to your biology. There were rumors that your kind once held certain...immunities.”

“My kind?”

“What do you mean when you say ‘her kind’?” Padme asked for me, her brows furrowed.

The Faust let out another strange laugh, his head thrown back. “I wonder if the process will just take longer. That would be more painful,” he mused, ignoring our questions. “But I’d love to watch.”

“I’m Correllian, you dinii,” I spit. “My biology is human!”

He held up a single, slender finger with a smile. “Part human.”

I opened my mouth to demand clarification when the entire bunker rattled, the echoes of an explosion racing down the halls. The Faust rushed to a panel as the room rumbled.

“We have a breach!” he cried, sirens sounding. “All droids to hatch number one!” I glanced at Padme, the force rippling with a familiar presence. Feisty. Strong-willed. Intelligent. Ahsoka. “Friends of yours, I assume,” the doctor continued, snatching up a bio-helmet. He pulled it over his head, the air filtration systems engaging with a hiss. “They arrived quicker than I would’ve thought.”

The bunker continued to rumble as I felt more force signatures enter the area. A noble presence. Wise. Cunning. Sarcastic. That must be Kenobi. A third familiar signature arrived that billowed strength, the force practically rippling around him as he neared the area. I’d recognize Skywalker’s presence anywhere. It was hard to miss, frankly.

Ahsoka’s presence drew closer. She was in the bunker. And someone flanked her. A presence I hadn’t felt in months, but could recognize at the drop of a pin. Kind. Curious. Noble. Strong. Determined.

Rex.

The sounds of fighting echoed through the halls, the Faust locking down his control room and calmly pacing as he waited. The powerful presence of Skywalker approached, the jedi soon appearing behind the translucent door and cutting through it with his lightsaber. The door fell in, Skywalker immediately halting as he saw us all tied up.

“Padme!” he called, clearly panicked.

“Take another step,” the doctor, clad in his bio-helmet, threatened. “And your friends die!” He pulled a lever, the pillar we were attached to electrifying. Padme and Jar Jar screamed in agony, my teeth clenching against my own yells. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been electrocuted before. I could handle a lot of pain, after all.

Of course, it still hurt like hell.

“Drop your weapons,” the scientist demanded smugly. The clones didn’t seem ready to comply.

“Wait,” Skywalker stopped them, his gaze intense on our writhing figures. “Do as he says.”

As the electricity stopped coursing through my body, the doctor moved about the room, leisurely storing away some of his virus as the droids lined up the clones and the jedi. “I realize I won’t be able to hold you for long, Jedi,” he said casually. “That is why I’m going to give you a choice.”

“Fine with me,” Skywalker spit. “As long as one of the options is killing you.” I breathed heavily, my body sore and tiring. Was that the virus taking effect? Still, nothing could keep me from thinking how un-jedi-like Skywalker often acted.

“How about,” the Faust returned, approaching the lever again. Oh boy. I braced myself as he reached for it. “Capture me, or save your friends?” He pulled the lever, the electricity sparking back to life immediately. The doctor ran from the room as Skywalker rushed forward.

The jedi dove between the droids, all of them opening fire immediately. I tried to watch as he pulled his lightsaber to him and began to destroy the droids, his soldiers jumping in to help, but my vision was beginning to blur.

Suddenly, the pain stopped, Skywalker having thrown a destroyer into the control panel. “Are you okay?” I glanced up through hazy vision to see him gently holding Padme’s cheeks. His eyes were wide. Desperate. Afraid.

“Ani,” Padme sighed. “How about the next time you rescue me before you kill all the battle droids.”

He scrunched his nose, but was clearly amused, gently rubbing his knuckles over her cheek. “A little ‘thank you’ would go a long way.”

“Thank you,” I butt in, tilting my masked head to see him fully. “But could you get me off the pole of death now?”

Anakin severed the chains that held us with his lightsaber, helping Padme to her feet. “Grab your blasters,” he said to his soldiers. “We need to find that doctor.”

“Anakin, wait,” Padme argued softly, touching his shoulder. “Kida…” She paused, making them both look at me, still clad in my mask. “She’s been infected.”

“What?” He seemed shocked. “How?”

“The mask,” I answered, tapping the side. “He put the virus inside the mask. Said he was running some experiment.”

“What do we do?” Padme asked. Anakin didn’t look like he knew an answer that would please her, so I stepped in.

“For now, nothing,” I said curtly. “I keep the mask on so no one else gets infected. We can’t have this getting loose. For now, I’m okay. So we find the doctor and stop him from hurting anyone else.”

“But you-sah-” Jar Jar went to argue, but I held up my hand.

“We can figure out me later. Right?” I looked at the jedi, who nodded his head with determination.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading us all out of the control room. Still, as we ran through the labyrinth, I could feel Padme’s mix of emotions. Anger. Anguish. Fear. I pushed it away so I didn’t start feeling the same way.

Skywalker’s wrist comm pinged, Kenobi’s voice coming through. “Anakin,” he said, sounding annoyed. “I’m guessing you didn’t capture the doctor.”

“I’m working on it,” Skywalker said, equally annoyed. “Do you have the bombs?”

“I’m working on it,” Kenobi returned with sass. “Doctor Vindi has remotely activated the bombs. They’re counting down!”

“That’s great.”

“And on top of that,” the jedi master continued through the comms. “One of them seems to be missing.”

“Well, it’s down here somewhere. Ahsoka, we’ve got another situation.” He glanced at me. “Send all the clones to search the facility. We’ve got a miss-” he stopped suddenly as we slowed, nearly running into Ahsoka and her squad...who included Rex. I kept my gaze away.

“Master?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin continued as if nothing changed. “We’ve got a missing bomb and the trigger-happy mad doctor on the loose.”

“Senator,” I whispered. “The servant droid.” Her eyes widened before turning to Anakin.

“Missing bomb?” she jumped in. “We saw Doctor Vindi give a little droid a bomb.”

“An LEP servant droid,” I added in from behind the senator, giving Ahsoka a nod in greeting. She seemed confused at my current facial attire, but said nothing.

“You guys split up,” Anakin ordered. “Find that droid.” The jedi and his men ran by us, Padme and Jar Jar staying put.

“You heard him,” Ahsoka shouted to her own squad. “Let’s move!” I felt Rex’s gaze stay on me for a moment before he followed his commander, but I ignored him. I was going to die. Why allow myself to further the strange connection I’d felt since I first met him?

“Might as well try and find that bomb,” Padme mused out loud, gesturing for us to follow. We raced in the opposite direction the others had gone, my muscles beginning to feel sluggish. I pushed it away, not wanting to let the senator know that I was beginning to feel the effects of the virus.

Jar Jar slowed ahead of me as Padme kept running, but I was grateful for it. My body was tiring quickly. An excuse to stop was nice.

“What is it, Jar Jar?” I asked as he started sniffing around and entered a room on the side. “Senator!” I called, Padme turning to see we’d stopped.

“Ooo!” Binks exclaimed excitedly. “Something smells good in here.” He entered a room filled with plants and I rolled my eyes. He stopped for a snack. Of course.

Still, as if the stars always wanted me to be mocked by Jar Jar, I heard a faint ticking before feeling a spike in the force from Padme. “Hey there, little guy,” she said, kneeling to see below a table. Jar Jar and I approached from behind, spying the little LEP droid crouching with the missing bomb. “How about you hand that over to me?”

It seemed to contemplate for a moment before letting out a feral-sounding yell--something I wasn’t aware a droid could achieve. Padme and Jar Jar backed away, the Gungan’s leaping body slamming me backwards into a table.

“He’s getting away!” Padme cried, Jar Jar leaping off of me and lunging after the droid. He wrestled with it, successfully pulling it away before accidently chucking it across the room. Thankfully, Padme caught it, her face victorious. “Ahsoka,” she said into her comms. “I found the last bomb.”

“Stay there,” came the padawan’s voice. “I’ll get the bomb squad.”

Padme placed the bomb down on the table, watching it carefully while Jar Jar went back to looking for bugs. My knees nearly buckled as a sudden wave of nausea came over me, but I fought it away, disguising it as casually electing to lean on one of the table opposite the bomb.

By the time Ahsoka and Rex raced in with the bomb squad, my breathing was getting more difficult, my body just wanting to sit down for a second. Especially now that it was over. That I didn’t have adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I didn’t have to save anyone anymore.

The thought donned on me that I might not be saving anyone ever again. I was going to die. There was no cure for the virus, and while it seemed the effects were taking longer to set in on me...for whatever reason...they were definitely happening. What if Vindi had been right? Would whatever my apparently weird biology was make this even worse? It would just be longer and more painful?

Typical. As all other things in my life had been.

“You alright?” Rex asked as the bomb squad went to work, his helmet coming off. “You look pretty upset for someone who just won.”

I wiped the despaired expression off my face and gave him a forced smile. “Captain,” I said warmly. “It’s nice to see you again. How’s your shoulder?”

He gave me a small grin. “Good as new. It’s also been some time, you know.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, looking back as the bomb ticked down. “I know.” I also knew we were making small talk to mask our nerves about the last bomb.

One of the clones-one from Obi-Wan’s 212th division-revealed some wires and snipped them clean, the bomb ceasing in its countdown. “There,” he grunted, looking back at us with relief. “And plenty of time to spare.”

The room let out a collective breath of relief, Jar Jar even going so far as to collapse. Despite my rather grim situation, I couldn’t help but smile gently.

“Ahsoka, are you there?” Skywalker’s voice asked through the padawan’s wrist comm.

“I’m here, Master. The bomb has been deactivated. Did you find Vindi?”

“Deactivated as well.” He sounded smug. “Have you seen Padme?” I rolled my eyes. They were the furthest from discreet two humans could be. Still, I couldn’t help but feel warm at the genuine smile that came to the senator’s face when he asked about her.

“She’s right next to me,” Ahsoka answered, seeming disgruntled. “I’m okay, too. Thanks for asking.”

They logged off, Ahsoka going about organizing her men to the cleaning up of the illegal lab. I assumed Skywalker and Kenobi would deliver Vindi to the Republic while Padme remained to watch over the operation here.

“Kida,” the senator spoke softly, approaching me. “Maybe you should go with Anakin. Coruscant hospitals may be able to-”

“Padme,” I said gently, cutting her off. She seemed surprised I used her first name in front of everyone. “With all due respect, you and I both know that they don’t know of any cure for this.” Some of the clones’ heads turned my way in shocked curiosity. I found myself glad that Rex had left with Ahsoka already. “So if it’s alright with you...I’d like to stay here with you. I’ll serve you for as long as I can.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Padme said, shaking her head. She sighed sadly, looking down before gently grabbing my hands and holding them between us. “Don’t you want to go and...be with family? Friends?”

I thought for a moment. I thought of my club that was basically running itself now, since I was almost consistently somewhere with the senator. I thought about Boba...who hated me for letting his father die.

“I already am,” I responded, wanting to stab myself for being so sappy and emotional. But hey...I was going to die. So who cared anymore?

Padme swallowed thickly before nodding, giving my hands a final squeeze, and putting on a brave face. Ah. Maybe now I could understand how she managed to be queen of Naboo. Jar Jar approached, gently touching my shoulder in attempt to be encouraging. While I thought he was a buffoon, he was a nice buffoon, so I smiled.

“Senator,” one of the bomb squad clones called from the table. “You should see this. It’s one of the virus bombs.” He showed it to us, revealing it to be empty.

“It looks like the chamber that holds the virus is missing,” she thought aloud.

“I bet I can guess what took it,” I mused, looking up at the clone.

He understood what I meant. “That droid must have taken it!”

“Sound the alarm!” Padme called. The siren erupted through the compound as the clones split off to search for the damned droid. My senses began to spike. Something was happening. And it was very very bad.

The compound rumbled, the floor shaking below my feet. The green colored alarm shifted to red, my eyebrows shooting up. “Uh oh,” I voiced. “That’s a virus leak.”

“Seal the room!” Padme ordered, to which I immediately reacted. I raced to the panel, locking down the botany room we were alone in. Reading off a computer, I sighed in relief.

“No contamination in here, Senator,” I called to her. “But you two might want to put on your hazard suits.” They both nodded, donning the suits on the walls while I tried to access the rest of the lab from the panel. “It looks like Ahsoka managed to shut down the lab. Nothing got out.”

“Good,” Padme breathed from inside her suit before activating her comms. “Anakin, can you hear me? Anakin?”

“Padme,” he responded immediately. “I’m here. Are you alright?” Jar Jar raced around the room, panicking as he tried to find his helmet.

“Yes, for the time being.” I grabbed Jar Jar by the collar and shoved the helmet over his head, snapping it into place for him. “Jar Jar and I were in a safety chamber when the alarm went off. We’re wearing protective suits.”

“The virus is loose,” Anakin sighed, though I could hear his relief. “But Ahsoka has sealed off the entire facility.”

“Yes, but any remaining droids will try to break out.” Padme made a good point, my eyes immediately floating to my gear that one of the clones had fetched for me. “I’ll do what I can to stop them. I cannot let that virus escape.”

“Be careful,” Anakin pressed.

“Don’t worry, Skywalker,” I finally said, speaking up as I donned my pistols. “I’ve got her back.”

I heard the jedi hum. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was infected with a deadly virus,” I joked darkly. “But I’m not one to go down easy.”

He was quiet for a second before sighing. “I don’t doubt it. I’ll do my best to find a cure.” I didn’t respond as they signed off, Padme leading everyone to the door.

“Come on,” she called to the us. “We’re going to find Ahsoka. We’ll need her help to find those droids.”

The doors hissed open, blue mist pooling in around us. I followed the senator out, one pistol drawn. We rounded a corner, a few droids clanking down them in a confused line. “Hi!” I shouted, making them turn before I opened fire. It took longer than usual. “Kriff,” I cursed to myself.

“Are you alright?” Padme asked, her hand touching my arm.

“Fine,” I breathed, despite feeling tired and worn. “I just can’t see with this damned thing.” I knocked the mask with my fingers a few times before realizing a terrible truth. I sighed slowly before removing the mask, breathing in the contaminated air.

“What are you doing?” Padme gasped.

“I’m already contaminated,” I said aloud. “Might as well be able to see the damned droids, so I can shoot them before I die.”

Sure, the humor was grim, but it was that or sit around in despair. And it got Padme off my butt.

“Is anyone out there?” Padme said into her open comms. “Can anyone hear-”

“Senator Amidala!” Ahsoka’s voice called through the channel. “We’re trapped in a safe room at the end of complex B.”

“We’ll be right there!” Padme responded, giving me a hopeful smile, despite the sadness in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Apparently my face gave her a thought. “Are you contaminated?” she asked softly, her voice dreading the answer.

It was silent for a moment before Ahsoka responded. “I’m afraid so.”

MANDO’A

Dinii -- lunatic

[duckybeth99]

Repress (Past Fic)

[emrisemrisemris]

There’s still ... 90 minutes of the 31st left where I am. Here is a very late entry for @meflashfanwork​ for the August theme, “Family”. 1610 words. FShep/Miranda, AU. Probably.

Miranda Lawson was the only person in the mess when Shepard came in, seated at one end of the long table with her omnitool out, a stack of datapads spread out around her and an empty cup of coffee.

It was almost two in the morning, shiptime, but Shepard had gotten used to finding her Cerberus XO taking advantage of the time to spread out in a bigger space. That, and, as Lawson had explained the previous time, she'd been going in and out of her office to the coffee machine so often it saved a measurable amount of time just to work in the common area.

Shepard collected a cup of horrible ship coffee for herself, and took the seat at the table furthest from the other woman.

Miranda ignored her.

She drank the coffee.

"There are," Shepard announced after some time had passed, "enough family issues on this ship to keep a crew of therapists in work for years. Maybe I should ask Kelly to form a support group."

"Shepard, was that directed at me?"

"No. But also yes." The Commander put her cup down and stared at it, as if sufficient application of biotics would fill it back up. "You've got a deranged billionaire for a father with an obsession with his legacy. Garrus can't decide whether he wants to be everything his father was or the complete opposite. Thane kinda abandoned his kid to go on a revenge quest, Samara put two of hers in an institution and the other one's a serial killer, Grunt is … you, but built by a krogan mad scientist, the less said about Jacob's dad the better, and it's a miracle Jack's even alive." The cup remained, stubbornly, empty. "You know even Zaeed has a kid out there somewhere? The only one with a half-healthy family life is Tali, right up until she got herself exiled to cover up her dad being a traitor -"

"You've forgotten the Professor," Miranda said, shutting off her omni-tool and shuffling her datapads into a neat stack. She put one hand over the other and gave Shepard the look of an indulgent parent waiting for a child to calm down.

"Salarian families are more like business mergers anyway," Shepard said, and then added grudgingly "OK, I'll give you Mordin. He writes home to his nephew. OK. One out of -"

"And Dr Chakwas."

Shepard blinked. "Chakwas has a family?"

"Three sisters, eight nieces. And she writes birthday cards to all her old doctoral students." Miranda tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. "Joker's father and sister live on Tiptree. Gabby Daniels has a little girl. Donnelly has an identical twin -"

Shepard groaned and put her forehead on the table.

"- which is a horrifying thought, but there you are."

"Point stands," Shepard said into the table. "This ship is full of family mess, and -"

"And of course your relationship with your mother is enviably functional," Miranda said.

"Don't even have a dad and I'm still doing better than half the crew," Shepard muttered.

"I noticed the gap on your records," Miranda said. "I did wonder if you were medically conceived as well."

"No. Good old-fashioned one-night stand." Shepard lifted her head far enough to put it in her hands. "Mom was still a private, I was an accident, he was a corporate mercenary called Jack. She never saw him again. Why am I even telling you this?"

"It's two in the morning and somebody's just told you their harrowing life story," Miranda said, and steepled her fingers. "And you've pulled three consecutive eighteen-hour days. You're drunk on sleep deprivation. Go to bed."

"You don't get to give me orders, Lawson," Shepard mumbled, but there was no heart in it.

"Bed, Commander," Miranda said sternly.

Shepard muttered something into her own palms.

"Sorry?"

"I said, yours is closer," Shepard said, barely audibly.

There was a pause, during which Shepard looked determinedly at the table and Miranda at the ceiling.

"Be my guest," Miranda said eventually. "EDI, open my office door, would you?"

The door slid back. Without looking Miranda in the eye, Shepard got to her feet and headed for the door of Miranda's office at the pace of a zombie. Shortly afterwards there was the sound of someone falling into bed fully armoured, and the door closed again.

Miranda shook her head, and pulled a datapad towards her more or less at random.

He was a corporate mercenary called Jack …

There were millions of human mercenaries and it was a common name, and also people lied, and yet …

Miranda pulled up the Commander's formal Alliance headshot on her omni-tool, and examined the lines of the woman's face with newly unsettled eyes. Shepard had started greying early, her temples already whitening before she'd even made N7; subsequent events hadn't helped. Piercing blue-grey eyes, and a set to her face that made her look permanently slightly unimpressed, until it was lit up with one of those smiles.

"EDI, can I get into the Cerberus core database from my omni-tool?"

"Connecting," said EDI. A few moments later the omni-tool's projection began to fill with the familiar interface of Cerberus' huge internal filesystem.

There was information filed away in there that could ruin lives and bring down governments. It was a spy's dream; a treasure trove, a whole cursed tomb's worth of little threads and dirty secrets.

It was a normal reference database as well, hooked up to the email system and the holiday calendar and all the other things that an organisation two hundred strong spread across the galaxy needed to co-ordinate. The birthday announcements. The classifieds thread for agents trying to sell second-hand aircars or dusty exercise equipment.

Shepard tended to forget that Cerberus was, in many respects, just a company.

It also provided an assortment of working logins for other databases spread across the galaxy. They hadn't managed to get one for the Citadel Archives yet; those were jealously guarded and stored a great deal of their information in physical form only, which was frustrating. Alliance service records, however …

Miranda reviewed Captain Hannah Shepard's service history and counted backwards to the Commander's birthdate - three years before the First Contact war - and then nine months backward from there to the summer of 2153, before Cerberus had even been thought of. She'd had some leave on Earth.

She closed the record, and went into the Cerberus medical database instead.

There was this to be said for the Illusive Man: he'd been a field agent and knew the drill, and still, on occasion, would suit up ready to get his hands dirty if an operation demanded his particular skills. He liked to know every detail of what his projects were producing, and had an open inbox for any operative who wanted to speak directly to the man in charge. He drew no salary. And when they'd instituted the company-wide medical records database, to help support the medical division - Cerberus' corporate health offering outstripped anything offered by any human state system; it was one of the reasons colonists, especially, tended to join - he'd put his own results in there as well.

Under a pseudonym, of course, he'd said, in case a disgruntled employee tried to Reveal The Identity Of The Illusive Man. But they were in there. He was confident the Cerberus medical scan was the best available; why not take advantage of it?

Miranda found Shepard's medical record - screens upon screens of it, months of her own notes on the Lazarus Project - pulled out the genetic scan, and told EDI to cross-check it against the rest of the Cerberus genetics database.

She made herself a coffee while the AI worked.

Then another.

Then another.

Garrus emerged from the battery in his undersuit, went to the fridge for a dextro snack bar, waved vaguely at her and went back to his lair. He had a hammock down the side of one of the main cannons, which was against at least six shipboard safety recommendations, but the regulations hadn't been written with turians in mind and had definitely not been expecting Garrus.

Miranda decided against further coffee, and had a glass of water instead.

"I have found a positive result," EDI said.

"Show me," said Miranda.

And there it was. She searched the pseudonym, and found a human veteran, a biotic soldier who'd died in the First Contact War. Made sense. He tended to prefer meaningful aliases, when he needed them.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" EDI enquired.

Miranda stared at the few lines of code.

Don't even have a dad and I'm still doing better than half the crew.

"Nothing," Miranda said eventually. "It was for … my own personal curiosity. Delete the last hour of my search history, please, EDI."

"Done."

"Override command: delete the last hour of your own non-routine processing records, on my mark," Miranda said.

"I do not see the necessity of -" EDI began.

"Mark."

The mess room was silent. Miranda contemplated the table, and then collected the stack of datapads in the crook of her left arm and went back to her office.

Shepard was crumpled on the left side of the bed, in full armour, dead to the world. Miranda put the stack down as quietly as she could, took off her boots, changed into pyjamas, brushed her teeth.

Shepard woke up when she was brushing her hair.

"M'randa? You're still up?"

"Not for much longer."

"The hell's so important you're working on it this late?"

Miranda looked across the dim room at her, at the drowsy blue eyes and prematurely silver hair, and shook her head. "Nothing much."

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV: Fulmineous

A/N: *shrugs* I dunno guys, this really isn’t what I wanted/planned for my first FFXIV fic, but I gotta start somewhere, and I like this version better than the original I churned out at midnight while running on fumes (although I’m still not completely happy with it).

As for timeline, uhhh, hell if I know. Probably early Heavensward, so there aren’t any spoilers here.

As always, feedback is appreciated.

Honestly, having access to a quiet research space and a proper slate chalkboard (courtesy of Count Fortemps after an off-hand comment made one day) had done wonders for Synnove’s disposition since they’d been admitted into Ishgard. Of course, she probably wouldn’t be truly content until she had her office in Limsa Lominsa back with its complicated system of ladders and bookshelves and nesting chalkboards, but she wasn’t trying to climb the walls like she had back in Camp Dragonhead because the numbers in her mind wouldn’t leave her alone.

Rereha forgot that none currently present save herself, Heron, and Alakhai had ever experienced Synnove Greywolfe deep in the throes of theoretical arcanima.

Imagine, if you will, a surprisingly peaceful afternoon in the Fortemps Manor, more specifically within the main parlor. In one corner, Heron and Alakhai were quietly playing chess. On the divan next to them was Rereha, sipping tea and enjoying a truly horrific example of Ishgardian romantic literature. And sitting in armchairs in a rough circle in the center of the room, in a lively discussion of Ishgardian and general Eorzean politics, were Alphinaud, Lord Artoirel, Count Edmont, and a newly-arrived Lord Aymeric.

(Rereha couldn’t help but notice the slight disappointment on the Lord Commander’s face when he had noticed Synnove wasn’t present, and smiled smugly behind her book. Heron with her ridiculously long Roegadyn legs had kicked at Rereha’s divan in warning. Rereha ignored her. Alakhai’s eyeroll was practically audible.)

A picturesque scene, to be sure.

That was about when a loud, high-pitched cackle of unabashed mad GLEE echoed throughout the manor, accompanied by a booming peal of thunder.

The skies outside, by the way, were perfectly clear.

Conversation stopped.

After a three heartbeats of perturbed silence, Alphinaud said, “What was that?”

Alakhai moved a knight across the board. Heron steepled her fingers as she stared at the new pattern before her. Neither paid him any attention.

“Sounded like Synnove finally made a breakthrough on that theorem she’s been working on,” Rereha said as she turned the page of her novel. Lady Aufrine had just slipped away from her chaperone to meet with Lord Carrilaut and it looked like things were finally about to turn properly smutty.

(Out of the corner of her eye, Rereha saw Tyr walk past the parlor entrance, an empty basket held carefully in the enormous carbuncle’s mouth, on his way to the kitchens. Galette bounded after him.)

There was another moment of silence, and Rereha finally dragged her eyes up to meet the befuddled stares of four elezen. “All right,” she said, “three of you I can understand not comprehending the all-encompassing mania particular to academics, but Alphinaud, bunny,” and here she pointedly ignored his indignant sputtering over the hated nickname, “really, you’re Sharlayan. You attended the Studium. You can’t tell me you’ve never encountered research-induced insanity in your life.”

Alphinaud’s shoulders curled up defensively. “I perhaps assumed from her usually composed demeanor and proclivity to being the voice of reason that Synnove wasn’t given to such extremes,” he muttered.

Alakhai snorted, loudly. Heron wheezed and slid half out of her chair as she tried not to laugh uproariously, causing four sets of eyes to swing her way before back to Rereha.

Rereha was incredulous. “Alphinaud, did you never visit the lunatic asylum that’s Mealvaan’s Gate? The Arcanist’s Guild is full of mad scientists who just happen to also have a head for logistics and legalese. Last I knew, Synnove’s still in an academic bloodfeud with a professor from Radz-at-Han over...” she paused for a few moments, then sighed heavily. “I can’t even remember.”

“Aetheromagnetism, specifically aetherodynamics and quantum aetherodynamics, as it relates to gemstone infusion and carbuncle manifestation,” Alakhai said, poking Heron with her foot to try and get her to pay attention to their chess game again.

Alphinaud’s eyes popped open and he squeaked excitedly before hurriedly recomposing himself after the three Ishgardian nobles glanced at him in amusement. No doubt he would be ambushing Synnove later to pick her brain on the topic.

“That’s it, yes, thank you,” Rereha said. “He didn’t cite her paper as a source despite quoting wholesale from it and then drew apparently completely wrong conclusions, and now she’s determined to have his head on a pike.” She tilted her head thoughtfully and added, completely serious, “Probably literally.”

Heron was sent into a fresh round of snickering, joined by Alakhai, as Alphinaud looked horrified - though more at the mention of stolen research and plagiarism. Rereha was willing to bet that fistfights over academic integrity probably hadn’t only ever occurred in the Arcanist’s Guild.

“How isn’t he dead already?” he said.

Nope, definitely not.

“Wasn’t brave enough to show his face at the last arcanima conference Limsa Lominsa hosted,” Rereha said, finally setting her book aside. “Synnove glared murder at the Hannish delegation the entire time, I thought they’d drop dead from fright.” She grinned at the memory before directing her attention to the Ishgardians. “I’m going to assume that actual blood isn’t drawn on a regular basis at the Scholasticate?”

Count Edmont and Lord Artoirel were exchanging looks, but it was Lord Aymeric who said with wry amusement, “No, the students there tend to limit themselves to metaphorical backstabbing: political subterfuge, vicious rumormongering, accusations of heresy, and so on.”

(Inwardly, Rereha continued to plot. Sass. Sass was good; Synnove liked sass, and gave as good as she got. Also, Lord Aymeric wasn’t seemingly off put by mentions of Synnove’s temper, although he hadn’t yet experienced Synnove in a full fury. Still, that boded well, and Rereha tallied it into her mental “pro” category.)

Outwardly, Rereha was pained. “The worst of Ul’dah and none of the fun,” she said under her breath.

“Should we be concerned about Synnove’s activities?” Count Edmont said.

“No.” It was Heron who said this as she got herself back under control and hauled herself back upright in her chair. “Most of Synnove’s research tends to be purely mathematical in nature. If she wants to implement something, she either does so in the field or in one of the guild’s warded and reinforced laboratories, and she doesn’t have that here. Honestly, most of her mania can be attributed to too much coffee, not enough sleep, and genuine excitement over finally solving a difficult theorem. Just make sure she has food and a couch to collapse on and she’ll be fine.”

Cound Edmont appeared mollified, and a bit approving, likely regarding Synnove retaining enough sense to avoid recklessness spellcasting. Lord Aymeric looked positively charmed.

(Rereha mentally rubbed her hands together.)

“And that thunderclap?” Lord Artoirel said.

The three friends all hesitated, looked at each other, and shrugged.

“No idea,” Alakhai said.

“It always seems to happen when she comes across a particularly genius solution,” Heron said.

“We’ve stopped trying to figure it out, less headaches that way,” Rereha said.

At that moment, Tyr walked by the parlor again, catching everyone’s attention, but this time the basket he was carrying was laden with pastries both savory and sweet wrapped in napkins, plus a large flask of what was likely Ishgardian tea. He passed without deviating from his course, but Galette, trotting after him, stopped and sat facing them to make a strange trilling-meow sound as hello. Her mouth was covered in flaky pie crust and her muzzle completely stained with rolanberry juice.

Lord Aymeric visibly melted at the sight.

Rereha started plotting furiously.

“Although,” Alakhai said slowly as she stared speculatively at the living construct, “it might be the carbuncles. They’re quite in tune with Synnove and certainly have a... flare for the dramatic.”

Galette chirruped, looking oddly smug, and turned to bound back after Tyr.

[grumpyalpacaman]

Nexus Notes - Chapter Two

In a small, barely furnished room with just a twin bed in the corner and a small pile of unpacked boxes in the centre of the floor, Parker stood over a shelf, meticulously arranging a series of small toy figures. They were all cartoon animal creatures of a sort that he had carefully placed.

“There we go,” he said in a voice brimming with satisfaction. He pulled one last toy from the box at his feet and spent several minutes deliberating on its exact position. “Glad to see you’re all fine after the crazy lady kicked you over.” Amid his musings, he finally situated the purple, squirrel-like thing in his hand, placing it between a big red rock creature and an icy skeleton

“Parker,” called an all too serious and impatient voice from another room.

It was Maximilian, his best friend, roommate and as of today, business partner. Recognizing the tone in his friend’s voice, Parker left the bedroom and stepped into what had become a highly professional looking office-space since last night. Already, Max sat behind his desk, tapping away at his computer. His dark, chin-length hair was neatly tucked behind his ears and his attire was as clean-cut and straightforward as always.

“Are you quite finished playing with your toys in there?” Max's eyes never left the screen when he spoke. His dedication to multitasking was both inspiring and infuriating to Parker.

“Ah, so I see you decided to go through with that surgical funectomy you mentioned. Not the choice I would’ve made, but I respect your decision.”

“How very mature, brother. You are aware that this is our job now and we have to take it seriously? At least a little bit?”

The bigger man groaned, leaned back against the wall and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I know, I know. But it’s just so borrrring! I’m bored Max, I need constant stimulation. You knew this when your mom took me in, there’s no going back now.”

“You were 11, Parker. Believe it or not, I presumed you would grow out of it in the proceeding eight years,” said Max in a dry voice.

“And that was your first mistake.”

“No, my first mistake was sharing my toys with you in 1st grade. You broke one of them, you monster.” Even when joking with his best friend, Max remained defiantly deadpan.

“So, did you need me for something?” Parker asked with a raised brow.

“Just wanted you to look over the contact list I put together. We need to start getting the word out there and take on a few jobs before the end of the month. The rent on this place is dirt-cheap but smiles and kind words won’t be enough.”

Just as Max was turning the screen toward Parker, there was a sudden, dying hum as all lights in the room went out and the computer flashed brightly and powered off. Max stared curiously before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “Hmm... It appears that fate is as adverse to you working as you are.”

“Bundle that with these cheekbones and I am truly blessed." He flashed a cheap grin and stroked a thumb across his cheek.

Max steepled his fingers and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Must’ve been a surge. I wonder if it’s just us, or the whole building.”

“What about the backup generators?”

“In a dump like this? I don’t think so.”

“I’ll go and have a look. See who I need to talk to about this.”

When Parker stepped into the hall, he found he wasn’t alone and noticed that the lights in the corridors had gone out too. It seemed odd to him, that all his neighbours were heading straight for the apartment directly across from his. By the time he’d stepped into the hall, there were a dozen grumpy looking individuals pounding on the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Parker to up a stance near the rear of the group, which was growing increasingly louder as they received no response.

When the door came open at last, Parker’s look of curiosity shifted to one of concern. The woman he saw now looked markedly different from the one he’d bickered with just last night. Black bags had appeared under her eyes and her complexion was drained of colour. She leaned against the threshold of her apartment for support and looked upon the crowd with groggy, weak eyes.

She couldn’t get a word in before the entire crowd erupted with angry cries. A multitude of declarations ranging from, “This again?” to “You’ll be tossed out on the street, this time,” and an array of expletives and insults hurled her way.

Nexus grit her teeth and made a motion to shoo them away. “Go to Hell! I’m doing important work here and I don’t have time for this.”

Of course, her response only incensed the crowd further. She didn’t appear to be in any mood to deal with the uproar and stormed back into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

The crowd only got louder, thumping on the door and cursing angrily. It was then that Parker stepped in. He waded into the mob, hands raised as he pushed his way past them. “Alright people, calm down. What makes you think any of this was her fault?”

A lanky middle-aged man scoffed. “You’re new here, aren’t you? She’s been knocking out our power every couple weeks for the last two years.”

“Well alright, so it is her fault,” Parker replied, still trying to calm the situation. “Fair enough, but really what are you going to do here? Kick down the door and burn her at the stake?”

The crowd’s grumbles quieted a small amount as they exchanged angry glances with one another and then refocused them on Parker.

"Everyone just take a look and calm down." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small leather wallet. Flipping it open, he revealed a silver emblem. It was an oval-shaped, UEF badge with the words, ‘Collector Agent,’ and a downward-facing sword imprinted on the surface. “I’m a licensed collector, alright? I’ll go in and have a chat with her. Go back to your homes and wait for the power to come back on, okay?”

The crowd dispersed gradually and grumpily. It wasn’t long before Parker was alone in the hallway again and proceeded to knock on the door. “They’re gone."

He heard some shuffling and movement inside of the apartment, followed by a grumble as the door came open.

“So what, did you expect me to thank you?” she asked, leaning on her cane.

“Call me an optimist." He shrugged and did his best to turn on the charm. Then, he suddenly felt a strange, sour odour hit his nose. Coughing at the surprise assault upon his senses, he swiftly covered his face. “Ugh! What is that?”

“Vomit," she said, averting her eyes.

“... Are you alright? You don’t look alright.”

“Do you want something?"

Parker found himself considering it for a long moment, drumming his fingers against the threshold of the door. “I want to know what you’re doing in here?" He leaned over, trying to peer past her to the numerous technological oddities that filled her apartment.

“Living,” she said, putting herself into Parker’s line of sight and obstructing his view. “This is my apartment, I live here and nothing else.”

“What are you, some kind of mad scientist?”

“What are you, some kind of glorified bloodhound for the government?”

“Ouch." He recoiled as if stung. “I’m a collector, that makes me a free agent. We just do a lot of contracts with the UEF.”

“Still too close with the powers that be for my comfort.”

“Wow, you really don’t like the Federation, huh?”

“Should I?”

Parker wasn’t sure how to respond to that and so he merely stuffed his hands into his pockets and remained quiet.

“I’m not big on military dictatorships. Historically, they don’t work out too well.”

“Oh good, crazy conspiracy talk. It is not a dictatorship.”

“Oh?" Nexus leaned in close and stared into Parker's eyes. "Do you remember voting for Marshall Yao? I know I didn’t."

 “No, but it doesn’t work like that. I was born on Earth, I know what the situation is. The sovereign nations of the planet still have their leaders, who are voted in democratically and extend their resources and administration the UEF. It’s a joint, conglomeration of Earth’s elected officials.”

Nexus laughed aloud and mocked wiping away a tear. “You’re from the military academy, aren’t you?”

Parker retreated a step. “Y-yeah... How’d you figure that out?”

“You recited that like the most stiff-backed military boy I’ve ever met.” Nexus crossed her arms and smiled, the first time Parker had ever seen it. “How much influence do Earth’s elected officials have out here? In the colonies? You know, where over 90% of the human population lives? The UEF is run by soldiers with limitless power and resources. To answer your question, yeah, I really don’t like the Federation. You and I are, we’re not going to be friends. So go home.”

“If we’re being fair, you’re only half right. I’m an ex-cadet. My friend and I dropped out last month.”

“What are you still doing here?”

“You have a funny way of showing gratitude. You looked like you needed my help, so I thought I’d do you a favour.”

Nexus rolled her eyes. “Well, I didn’t need your help. Never have, never will. Now shoo." She waved him off and turned to head back into her apartment.

“Stop doing that with your eyes. It’s like it’s your favourite facial expression.”

“Yes, actually. Nothing else summarizes my disdain and exasperation with the rest of sentient life quite so effectively and succinctly as a swift roll of the old eyeballs.”

“Look, I just want to see what shorted out the power. My partner told me to figure out what happened, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Oh, a likely excuse.”

“Excuse for what? Seeing your filthy apartment? Yeah, I’m just dying to get a chance at that.”

“Hey!” She whirled on him and jabbed his broad chest with her finger. “My lab is great. You wish you could see my lab.”

“So you are a scientist then?”

Nexus sighed and shook her head.

Just then, there came a loud whir and the lights in the hallway came flickering back on. Nexus of course said a silent prayer of thanks to Joey the maintenance guy. 

“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “But only so you can validate my genius.”

Gesturing for Parker to follow, Nexus slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and lead the way into her apartment.

Immediately he found himself staring at the huge, ring-shaped gate, with the previously detected puddle of vomit pooled on the platform. He took a moment to briefly investigate the numerous clusters of mechanical gadgets all around the room and stuffed into numerous crates, but inevitably his attention returned to the central machine.

“Pretty impressive, right?” said Nexus, smirking with pride.

“Amazing. It’s definitely a big metal ring that you puked on for some reason,” Parker concluded.

“No, jackass, it’s a sub-space portal generator.”

“That you puked on. And did not clean up. Gross”

“This was a waste of time. Get out.”

“Alright, alright, alright, hold on. Maybe if you turned it on, I’d be a little more impressed. Go on, start it up, I swear I will marvel at your brilliance.”

“Just sit tight, you sub-human moron.” She grabbed hold of the control panel and tapped in the start-up sequence. The machine gave a loud warble and then went silent. Nothing happened. “Wh-what?” she stammered. She hammered the sequence in once more and again, nothing happened. She growled and punched the terminal with her tiny fist, accomplishing nothing save for hurting her knuckles.

With a groan, Nexus dropped backward into her chair and buried her face in her hands. “Urrrgh... It’s broken.”

“Oh, wow. This must be embarrassing.”

“Shut up!"

“Don’t worry, I shall comfort you.”

Her eye twitched ever so slightly in frustration. “Just minutes ago, it was a technical marvel. A masterpiece of engineering and a breakthrough in sub-space physics." Her voice rose to a whine and she kicked her feet at the ground.

“But then it shorted out the local power grid and fried itself. Right?”

“Yes, exactly." Nexus threw her hands up and leaning backed, her chair wheeling away several feet.

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Nexus asked, crossing her legs and giving him a sideways glance.

“Yes. Perhaps we can discuss your research over dinner and drinks.”

“Oh please no, not this again.”

“Again with that,” Parker replied, taken aback. “Are you broken, lady? Have you seen me?” Parker lifted his shirt up over his face to reveal sculpted abdominal muscles and rock-solid pectorals. “Are you looking? I can’t tell if you’re looking.”

“Astounding."

“Right?” 

“I have mastered time-travel.”

“Wait, what?” he said, peeking over his shirt.

“I have transported an ancient neanderthal into my lab. Now if only I could repeat the process, I’ll be the greatest scientist to have ever lived.” Her tone had gradually drifted into biting and sarcastic. “Now put your shirt down, idiot.”

“No, I think I’ll just keep it up here until you appreciate my hard work. Do you know how many sit-ups I had to do to get these?”

Nexus, without saying a word, wheeled her chair over to her desk and grabbed a big, hand-held device which, to Parker, looked an awful lot like a misshapen handgun. With a cold glare, she pointed it straight at his chest and wrapped her finger around the trigger.

“That wouldn’t happen to be an ion pistol, would it?”

“I dunno. Do I seem like the type to build a death-ray and keep it just lying on my desk?”

Parker responded by calmly lowering his shirt and tucking it in. “So... Are you a student here? From one of the science academies?” 

“Nope,” she said curtly as she pushed herself out of her chair and slotted a pod into her espresso machine. “Left that intellectual black-hole years ago.”

“Oh good. Please explain why the most respected scientific institutions in the galaxy are beneath you.”

“Gladly." Nexus retrieved a steaming mug from the machine and took a long drink from it before continuing. “The academies are owned by the Federation. Guess what use the Federation sees for science?”

Parker shrugged again. He found he was doing that a great deal lately.

“Weapons. Of the mass destruction variety. And I have too much respect for science to see it used to kill people.”

“They’re not that bad. The UEF has done a lot to establish humanity in the wider galaxy, in a very short amount of time. We went from one planet to over thirty colonies in just fifty years after its formation. Hey, do you mind if I get a cup of that?” Parker asked, pointing toward her coffee machine.

“Yes,” she shot back. “I’ll never say they aren’t ambitious. But they’re also a bunch of pussies.”

“Uhm, excuse me?”

“You heard me. As soon as humanity found itself in a bigger universe, surrounded by bigger aliens, capable of vast psionic feats or with technologically superior hardware, we got scared, like the whimpering bitches we are. Now the UEF spends all its resources and time overcompensating and pretty soon it’s going to lead to trouble.”

“You’ve really thought your insane conspiracy theories out, haven’t you?”

“Remind me again, why I let a stupid prick like you into my apartment?” she asked, casually sipping her espresso.

“Your verbal abuse is starting to sting just a bit,” Parker replied, holding his fingertips a scant centimetre apart.

Nex returned her attention to her work. She kneeled down beside her sub-space gate and opened a panel on the side of the base. “It’s almost as if I didn’t want you here or something.”

“I’m just curious about all this science stuff you’re doing in here. It’s kind of... cool.”

“Oh yeah, I’m absolutely convinced that’s the only reason you’re here. All the passes you made at me were born of scientific curiosity.”

“Well I didn’t say it was the only reason,” he added just loud enough for Nexus to hear. “So what are you gonna do about this mess?”

“Not much I can do,” Nex said as she pulled some fried electrical components out of the machine. “I have the spare parts around here to repair what was damaged, but if I don’t get my hands on an industrial strength, energy core regulator, it’ll just happen again.”

Parker stepped up behind her, looking over her shoulder at her work. “Alright, well you just happen to live in Pantainos City, the centre of science and education in Federation space. You can’t find one of those?”

She tossed a handful of frayed, blackened wires into a nearby bin before peering back at the persistent intruder. “Oh no, I know exactly where to find one. Problem is, the merchant with his hands on it is a taurus.”

Parker nodded, immediately understanding. “Not the easiest to do business with. And where might I find this taurus merchant?”

“Excuse me?” Nexus asked with a raised brow.

“Just tell me where to find the part you need and I’ll go pick it up for you. Provided you cover the cost when I get back.”

Nexus rose to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re serious?”

Parker replied with naught but a smirk.

“Alright then. If you think your dumb-ass can get a hold of it when I couldn’t, you’re on. You bring me a Model-E05 energy core regulator by the end of the day and I’ll consider letting you hang around. But if you can’t, you never bother me again. Deal?”

“Shake on it?” Parker extended his hand.

“I believe we already discussed my policy on touching?”

“Right, no touching. Got it,” he said as he swiftly retracted his hand and stuck it in his pocket.

“It’s a stall in the East Market, run by a taurus named Zakka. Not hard to find, he’s one of the only non-human merchants in the area.”

“Give me two hours.”

She scoffed at the thought, but Parker left with a confident smile.

Finally alone to her own devices, Nexus set about cleaning up the mess that had been made of her machine. She spent close to an hour rewiring and repairing her gate (along with mopping up some vomit) before passing out in her chair again. She wasn’t sure how long she was asleep for but judging by the fact that she was still exhausted by the time she awoke, she guessed it wasn’t long.

She was startled awake, bolting upright with wide eyes and fumbling hands as the door swung open and slammed against the wall. She just narrowly avoided falling out of her chair.

Parker stormed into the room with his prize held high above his head, the very device that Nexus had been pursuing.“Behold! A Model E-whatever, energy something-somethinger!”

“Wha-whuh-whuh!?” she mumbled, still waking up as her heart rate returned to a controllable pace. “How did you-? Why did you-? What the hell are you doing, barging into my apartment!”

“Don’t want people barging in, you should’ve locked the door.”

“That is not how it works! Now hand that over,” she said, reaching greedily for the regulator in Parker’s hands.

“Awww, you’re adorable when you beg. Alright cutie, here’s your trinket.”

“Shut your stupid whore-mouth!” She yanked it from his hands and examined it. It only took a cursory glance for her to recognize the model. It was the exact one. “Good,” she thought, as she had been fairly sure that even if Parker had been able to acquire the device, he’d have screwed it up and gotten the wrong one. “How?” She looked to him with a curiosity and a tone that almost edged upon gratitude.

“I stole it,” he replied bluntly.

“You did what!? Oh... Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no! We’re going to have a huge angry taurus beating down my door any minute now.” She then started to ramble incoherently and protectively hugged her new toy.

“Kidding,” he blurted out, hands thrown up defensively. “I was kidding.”

A huge wave of relief washed over Nexus and she let out a long, happy sigh.

“All I really did was act like I didn’t want it.”

“It was not that easy.”

“Yeah, it was. Taurus are like children, not fond of sharing their toys and sometimes, they want something just because they know you want it. To them, that makes it more valuable. So I acted like I wanted something else, some old ship engines. I mentioned a passing interest in the regulator and he offered to toss it in for a fair deal. At the last minute, it turned out I was short on credits, I put together a lie about bank fees and late payments for my work. All I could afford was the regulator. Zakka was either going to sell it to me, in hopes that I come back for the bigger, pricier parts later, or I’d leave and probably head to another shop next time. Unfortunately for Zakka, I won’t be coming back.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of smart,” said Nexus. “How’d you manage that without a brain?”

“Hilarious. I told you, I’m not totally useless. Now for my reward, I’ll accept payment in the form of dinner dates. Nothing fancy, I’m not high maintenance.”

Nexus groaned and pressed her palm to her forehead. “I immediately regret this decision.”