#Sam Coe x Spacefarer

[fangbangerghoul]

photo used for banner by: @labelle-fleursauvage Below is a masterpost of my Sam Coe centered fics, all links lead to Ao3 all fics MDNI, 18+, heed the tags please

Starfield Fanfiction, Sam Coe edition:

One Shots/Reader Fics:

Capacity Limit (Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: Bondage, Cannon Violence

Reader and Sam Coe are on a mission to eliminate Spacers and Reader keeps picking up too much shit.

Tear You Apart (Pirate Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: CNC, Facefucking, bondage, light forced voyeurism, it's very explicit and it's a pirate being a pirate so just be wary. This isn't your Sam Coe from Kansas anymore.

You are now Starborn in search for the remnants of what you have left behind in your new current universe. You rush to be reunited with a new version of those you cared deeply but things go awry.

soft leather and spurs (softdom!Sam x fem!reader) Tw: praise kink, soft breeding kink, language?

You are leaving the bar for the night after playing a game of let's meet like strangers with your favorite cowboy.

gameshot by me (one of the few I have ever taken lol)

Ghoul series: The fics chosen from the Ghoul series are ones that heavily include Sam Coe. (will be updated in the future)

1. Neon City Delights (completed)TW: Drug use, SA, Cannon Violence

Walter Stroud has finally decided to talk to you (Main character) like you are a person at Constellation. So, to prove to yourself and the companion the association has assigned to you as of late, Sam Coe, you now get to walk the streets of your hometown to complete a mission with your lead. What happens at the Astral Lounge doesn't need to be told, right?

2. Settling with the Stars(completed)TW: Cannon Violence, Alcohol

Being grounded to a planet is worse when you know you could be out doing something better with your time. Sarah Morgan wants our main character to lay low while others have been out doing quests of their own. How has our main character been settling with their down time since their near-death experience at Neon City?

Bonus story:

Ghoul Adventures (Halloween edition, on hiatus)

This Halloween edition of Starfield tales takes our Main Character and some of the crew of Constellation on a spelunking adventure in search of what is causing all of the spooky rumors at the local citizen outpost.

[notyourramona]

I need support of the hive brain of Starfield fic writers!

What do you think Crimson Fleet pirates do in their spare time?

Out of the box, silly, gruesome, all the suggestions! I want to compile a list for ideas for the fic I am working on! After I compile the list I'll post it to share this resource for any others who would like to write content surrounding The Crimson Fleet.

Thank you in advance for your support!

[bread0nhead]

For Your Eyes Only (18+)

Sam Coe (Starfield) X F!Spacefarer!Reader

It’s the first time you and Sam have been apart since your relationship began. So why not send some photos to remind him of what he’s missing?

“Sarah, ready to head out?” You ask as you and the other members of Constellation stand around the lodge.

“Of course.” Sarah confirms.

“Really? Sending the big boss instead of me?”

“Don’t worry Sam, I’ll be sure to bring her back in one piece.” Sarah teases and a glint in her eyes.

“We’ll be in UC territory, somewhere a Coe doesn’t exactly fit in. Besides, we’ll be back in a week. Tops.” You kiss Sam on the cheek before grabbing your things to head out.

It’s not the week apart that has Sam pouting, it’s the fact he’ll be stuck in the Lodge for a week without you. Sam hasn’t been grounded for that long in months and the stars are already calling him.

The first three days weren’t all that terrible, as he spent most of his time helping Cora with her schooling and gathering supplies. It’s by the fifth day he’s practically bashing his head against the walls.

Knowing self mutilation isn’t the scratch to the explorers itch, he picks up the boxing gloves sitting on the floor of his room and starts wailing at the punching bag. The chain holding up the bag rattle and snap with each swing. He continues long enough to get sweat creeping down his bare chest. It isn’t until a ping from his phone comes in that he takes off the gloves and rests on the steel bench next to the leather bag.

It’s a message from you, the first he’s heard from you since you left.

“Bad news, looks like this mission might take an extra couple of days. Think you can hold out just a little longer for me?”

Sam groans at the message and grabs his explorer hat to put it back on, ready to scream into it. The hat has always brought him a little comfort.

“Another few days and I might need a new punching bag at the end of this. I miss you crazy.”

There’s no response for several minutes, making Sam all the more frustrated. After ten minutes, Sam tosses his phone on the bed and picks up the weights next to him. It’s just as the cell bounces on the mattress that another chime comes in.

Sam’s happy no one is there to see how fast he rushed to his phone to open your message. And when he does, he’s even happier that he’s alone in his room. Sam lets out a breath curse under his breath as he examines the attached image.

You’re on some hotel bed, propped up with your ass in the air and the camera angle just getting the edge of your devious smile. You’re in nothing but your bra and panties with your hair down.

Damn you’re a sight to behold.

“Don’t tease me like that. Show me more of that beautiful body.”

You respond almost immediately with a new photo. One where your bra has been removed and your hand is just barely covering your nipples. Your whole face is in this one, which he finds to be the most beautiful part of the entire photo. Your cheeks are lightly dusted from blushing and your pupils are blown out. You have a flirty smile and a certain twinkle in your eyes.

Sam can feel his loose shorts getting tighter. If you’re going to tease him, he can do just the same. Sam snaps a picture of the tent growing in his shorts. Since he’s not wearing any boxers underneath, every edge and curve of his dick just peaks through in the shadow outlines. His toned stomach is also in the picture, glistening with sweat.

Sam’s a little nervous to send the photo. He’s never sent or received photos like these. Lilian wasn’t the most keen on intimacy, and before her all the girls he’s been with didn’t last long enough to even get their phone number. His heart picks up a bit as he hits send, anxiously waiting to see what you say.

“Look who’s teasing now.”

Before Sam even has a chance to respond, you send another photo. Your back is on the bed and you’re playing with one of your pert nipples. Your teeth bitting and sucking the corner of your bottom lip.

“Fuuuuuck” Sam groans, dragging a hand down his face and letting out a breathy chuckle.

His dominate hand palms his dick over his shorts as his other hand types up a response.

“Such a good girl for me”

“God I wish you were here taking good care of me”

Sam snaps another picture, this time his hand is holding his hard member. Veins, girth, hair and all are in the photo. It’s shameless, he knows. But fuck this is just so fun. He feels young and reckless again.

“The shit I would do to you right now…”

You respond to Sam’s text with the a short video of your slender fingers stroking and dipping into your folds with your fingers coming out covered in your own slick. Sam can hear your soft moans in the video and it has his eyes rolling back.

Sam can’t take this anymore, he needs to hear you. All of you. Every breathy moan and call of his name on your tongue. He hits the dial icon next to your contact in his phone and after the first ring, you answer with the cutest giggle he’s ever heard in his life.

“Well hello handsome. Miss my voice already?”

“I miss waaay more than just your sweet voice.”

Sam starts to stroke himself, feeling himself finch in his hand. He try’s to stifle the moan that’s sitting in his throat, but it comes out louder than he expected.

“What are you doing?” You ask in a teasing tone.

“You know damn well what I’m doing.”

“What do you want to be doing?”

“Ah fuck…” Sam took in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I want to taste you.” He strokes harder, thumbing the tip of his cock.

Sam can hear your gentle cries of pleasure, hear the squelching from below. It’s fucking music to his ears.

“I want to suck on your breasts until you’re panting for me. Then when you’re nice and wet, I want to devour you. Touch you in all the ways I know you like.”

“Sam” it comes out as more of a prayer than a call. He can hear how close youre getting.

“I want to fuck you so bad”

“I need you Sam”

“I know baby. I need you too.”

As your panting picks up, so does Sam’s. Neither of you speak for a couple minutes, just moaning and groaning into the phone, cursing and chanting each other’s names.

“I’m going to cum, Sam”

“Fuck, let me hear you”

Just seconds later you’re unraveling into the mic, calling out Sam’s name. This sends Sam over the edge, moving his hand faster until warmth oozes out of him and drips onto the floor. He groans loud and fulfilled while looking at your photos.

You both take a few moments to come down from the high.

“Please, hurry back to me.”

“I promise.”

[silurisanguine]

WIP Wednesday

From up coming next chapter of Chasing Your Star Until I Find Home and it's a spicy moment! 🚀🪐

I tag the Coemancer Crew as usual, Plus anyone else who'd like to share any wip.

His touch felt like electric on her skin, she'd missed it so much and she pulled him closer, her nails raking across his back, causing him to growl and lift her off the desk. "I need more than a taste." He whispered huskily in her ear, desire dripping off every syllable and Seren nodded, moving her head around to catch his lips again in a bruising kiss that told him she wanted it too. Sam carried her over to the bed and dropped her down onto it, whilst he stood at the foot and divested himself of the rest of his clothes. Seren matched him, sliding out of what was left of her clothing just as fast, tossing it to the floor to watch Sam admire her for a moment before he crawled up over her, like a predator about to devour their prey. Seren lifted her hands up to touch Sam's chest, but he took her wrists in one hand and pinned them back over her head, making her back arch and breasts push up towards his face. Sam dipped down to envelope a pert nipple with his lips, sucking gently. It made Seren throw her head back as warmth shot down to her core, that ache she'd missed, building fervently as her need for this Sam to fuck her grew. "You can have me." She whispered as she lifted her head again, to see Sam's predatory smile widen. He threw his hat off, where it landed on the chair to the side and dove for her again, his mouth crashing with her lips, tongue delving into her mouth to entwine with hers, greedily drinking down her moans like his life depended on it.

[bearlytolerant]

Fandom: Starfield

Rating: G

Pairing: Sam Coe x Spacefarer

Word Count: 239

loop

It was supposed to be grand!

Stellar!

An adventure and experience you never had before!

At least the last bit had proved to be true.

But now you stand amidst your friends—not friends? The elation and high wearing off as some marvel and some doubt.

All seeing starborn and not you.

Your eyes meet Sam’s, one’s you’ve lost yourself in a million times before, and he is suspicious while holding the hand of your reflection. This version of you is happier and softer. Years of togetherness etched in the laughter lines reminds you of what you chose. They are what you can now, never be again.

Breath hitching in your throat, you turn right back around, pushing through that Lodge door, regret a stone in your belly.

The artifacts are yours.

Step through the unity again.

—

Oh, it’s getting old. Redundant. Laborious.

The endless cycle of exiting and entering or is it entering and exiting? You’ve lost track. All you care about is finding Sam. Your Sam. The one you spent too few years with, trading time with him for this cycle of monotony.

Gun loaded, you point the trigger. Mercenaries. Yourself. Andreja. Cora.

The last one makes you numb.

You tried to find Sam. Even one that wasn’t yours but a you had already married him. Already loved him and they could not make room for Not You.

No love for a starborn.

So you move on.

Hunter vs Emissary vs Arbiter.

Another cycle.

Another artifact.

Another.

Anothe—

A—

[kithkinchick]

WIP Thursday, I guess? Finally getting to the scenes I have had in head for weeks to write about all the feelings that the Sam Coe, the Crimson Fleet, the Rangers and Lillian gave me. Also, because @spookyspecterino and @magnitude101999 write amazing things and woke up my muse

Gayle's an industrialist/introvert, and she pulled Lillian into her quarters after Victor Compound to have a little chat about Lillian’s "now I'm going to kill your dad" comment to Cora

****

“All right, what's this about?” Lillian spoke first, then continued before Gayle could answer. “Actually, since you gave me this opportunity, I want to be frank.”

Gayle nodded for her to continue.

“What the hell were you thinking bringing Cora here?” Lillian exploded. “I figured on Sam doing something this foolish, but I expected better of an active Ranger. It's bad enough that you encourage him with all the bullshit about Constellation being great for Cora, but you actively bring my daughter along on your adventures, when it could be the death of her.”

“You should know that without Cora you'd still be at Victor Compound.”

Lillian scoffed at that. “There’s no way, she's a child.”

Despite wanting to stay calm and keep in control Gayle saw red. Pushing back from the wall she had been leaning against she took a step toward Lillian. “You aren't giving her enough credit. Cora is a remarkable girl. She's the one that noticed the change in pattern with your communication. She's the one that brought it to out attention.” With each sentence she moved closer, and she was only a few feet away from Lillian when she spat cuttingly “and she's the one who called for backup when she needed it.”

Lillian’s head reared back from the shorter woman as the verbal blow hit its target. “I had no idea. I'll have to talk to her, and to Sam.”

Gayle wasn't ready to be mollified. “ As for Constellation, it is great for her. There is not a member of the group that wouldn't take a bullet for her. She has not just Sam, but all of us watching out for her, and she is soaking it all up like a sponge. Cora is going to be amazing when she grows up, because she has so many role models.”

Lillian regained enough of her balance to spit back. “She’s my daughter, and it should be my decision.”

Gayle barked out a harsh laugh at that. “Cora and Sam have been traveling with me on and off for almost a year. In that time she hasn't seen you once.”

“That’s the job.”

“No Lillian, that's how you choose to work the job.” Gayle shook her head sadly. “There are other Rangers.” She backed away and sat at her desk. “You can't tell me that running an op like this one without a handler, without some kind of safety contact, was the best option.”

“Who do you think you are? What gives you the right to tell me about my life, about my child?” Lillian’s volume was increasing again, and Gayle saw some of what she imagined Sam dealt with in their conversations.

“I'm the woman who reads with Cora every night before bed.” Both women stood stock still. “And I'm the woman who dropped everything because Cora was worried her mother might have been killed in the line of duty.”

[fomagranfalloon]

ONE MORE RUN BE ENOUGH

My little shorty about Sam Coe is now complete on AO3.

Pairing: Player Character x Sam Coe

Summary: After countless trips through the Unity, the Spacefarer is growing weary of the Starborn life. After fruitless searching for her original Sam Coe in every iteration, she starts to see something special about the Sam in this latest universe.

Warnings: Game canon typical violence, language, spoilers for end of main mission

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

[dryad-of-the-dogwood]

The Grav Jump Tango Chapter 1: The Next Horizon Pairing: Sam Coe x Spacefarer

Sam Coe was sure the newest member of Constellation was going to be trouble. Nobody just waltzed right in and had Andreja of all people saying good things about them within a couple of weeks. This woman was bound to be either up to something or riding on someone’s coattails. Walter’s secret kid or something maybe, that would probably be the best they could hope for.

Tempering Cora’s expectations though, well that was a little harder. Sam was still trying to remind her to behave herself when the conservatory doors opened. Before he’d even turned all the way around, he led with a joke about getting dragged into the dysfunctional little family that was Constellation.

“Dysfunctional? Oh, that explains why I felt right at home.”

The newcomer paused a few steps away, a smirk curling the left side of her mouth. She looked too pale and thin to be a miner, but there was something about the way she carried herself that said she might be stronger than she looked. She had an angular sort of face that made her age hard to guess, the only color in it at all a pair of dark eyebrows that matched the hair pulled back from her face and a few dark freckles that were scattered seemingly at random from her forehead to her jaw. She was taller than Sam would have expected too—half a head taller than Sarah, who had followed her in. It was her eyes that stood out most though, a pale green that showed her amusement much better than the rest of her face.

Apparently while he was trying to figure out what sort of person she looked like, Sam had taken too long to answer, because she held out a hand to shake. “Cassandra Warrick,” she introduced herself. And he had been right, she was definitely stronger than she looked, because she had one hell of a grip. “And you’ll be Sam Coe, Sarah’s Freestar Collective expert?”

He tried to head that idea off quick, but naturally, Cora jumped in to pile on and introduce herself too. At least Cassandra didn’t seem to have any problem with kids, because she flashed a grin that showed off a dimple on her right cheek. “Glad to meet you—and see someone your age that actually thinks space is interesting.”

It took some doing to steer the conversation back to the actual mission, and when Sam did, Cassandra seemed to change. Her back straightened and her expression shifted from almost playful to something bordering on icy. Hopefully that just meant she was taking this seriously, which would come in handy if they ran across any ashta on the frontier. It didn’t help when she asked about Akila, and he warned her about pissing off the Rangers. Her eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t tell if it was suspicion or judgment or something else entirely.

“Beyond that, just don’t be an asshole,” he summarized, and then suddenly her smirk was back.

“No worries there. Charm and disarm’s my specialty.” She winked, and Sam found himself back to his original estimate. That look just screamed trouble.

[zermbie-dergon]

Snippet Sunday

I wasn't tagged but I saw quite a few people posting snippets and figured I would give it a shot.

This is from a rough draft I am writing. Sam and my female oc in the lodge after finding the first temple

Enjoy!

~

“What if there’s someone out there that finds out what we have? And they decide to take it for themselves by any means? Or the powers... what... what if I can’t control them? What if at some point I destroy something or hurt someone? Fuck, what if I kill one of you by-by mistake? I...I... Sam, I am so fucking scared.”   

Tears burned her eyes as she turned away from the flames to look at Sam. The concerned look on his face only made her eyes burn more.

Sam sighed. “Being scared means you’re human, this is... It’s hard to wrap your head around it. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. But you’re not alone in this, you know that right?”

Cady swiped at the tears starting to run down her face. “I know,” she sniffled. “My head is just a jumbled mess right now and I wish it would quiet down, even if it was only for two or three minutes. Just to give me a second to breathe.”

“Sounds like you need a distraction.” Sam said, his eyes moving about the room like he was looking for something.

Too exhausted to wonder what he was doing, Cady rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. She felt Sam get up off the couch and for a moment she thought he had decided to leave her alone until she heard him fiddling with something to her right.

Before she could ask what he was up to, music began to fill the sitting area, a slow strumming guitar and a matching drumbeat. Cady opened her eyes and picked her head up to see Sam walking back towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Sam gave her a coy smile. “You said you wanted 2 to 3 minutes and that’s about the length of a song, isn't it?” 

“Yeah I suppose so.”

Cady heard Sam take a breath before he reached out and offered his hand to her. She glanced at the hand for a moment before making her way up to his face. A slight pink flush blossomed across his cheeks as he gave her a small smile.

“May I, uh, have this dance?”

[silurisanguine]

Yep why many Coemancers are writing alternative wedding ceremonies. (I have one planned for the Lodge) Because yes I can understand both Jacob and Lillian being there (possibly) but there should be a CHOICE to invite them and the BRIDE should not be the one to pick up the EX.

So I’m playing Bethesda’s Starfield and I’m romancing Sam Coe. I love that space cowboy.

I just got the part of his romance where your character and him get married, and just finished talking to his dad, Jacob. And I have one question, why the fuck is his ex-wife there and why the fuck does it make me, the bride, go pick her up from the spaceport.

And don’t give me the “Oh, well, they’re friends”, I don’t give a damn if they’re friends. Unless your ex is related to the person you are marrying, then they really shouldn’t be at the wedding. Now, I know everyone has their opinions and I’m not saying you can’t have your ex at your wedding, but at least make sure both the bride and the groom (or both brides. Or both grooms. Or whatever you identify as) are completely okay with it. And secondly, don’t make the person you are marrying go pick your ex up from the fucking airport.

I know this may not be important to some of you, but I just wanted to know why Bethesda didn’t give you a choice whether or not to invite her. I mean, I know she’s the mother of Sam’s daughter but that doesn’t mean she should invited to his wedding. I mean, he hates his father and still invited his father but that makes sense cause he’s his father. But inviting his ex-wife makes absolutely zero sense.

That’s it if my weird rant about a video game, I have had too much caffeine.

Also, why the fuck can’t I invite any of the other companions? I mean, they’re probably just on the ship like, “what’s taking them so long?”, then we get back and we’re married. I mean, if you’re gonna make me invite Sam ex, then at least let me invite our other friends.

[aro-pancake-writes]

What? Me? Two wips in a row?

Yup! The plot bunnies are breeding like... Well, bunnies! And the Creatikitty that hunts them is doing his job.

So, yay! \o/

Tag list? @eridanidreams @silent-moons-camp @silurisanguine @aislingdmdt @atonalginger

Back to Mars

Mars. Out of all the backwater dreadful places in the galaxy, this is the worst one. Hector spent almost ten years in the deep mines, and then some in Cydonia.

Not that the company wasn't great.

“Why are we here again?” Sam asks as they step out of the trade authority to go downstairs to the Sixth Circle.

“Hadrian needs someone who worked with her before. And he's here.” Hector says, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. “Hope this will be a straight forward job.” He comments, finally on the ground.

As they go around to enter the bar, a familiar voice is hard.

“As I live and breathe.” Hector looks to the source, finding Trevor heading his way, smiling at him. “Thought you said you'd never set foot on this rock again, pet.”

“Didn't really mean to.” He says, crossing his arms over his stomach.

When he left, Hector didn't say goodbye. He didn't want to be held back, to consider staying in Cydonia.

But nothing about Trevor's posture says he holds a grudge.

“So, what changed?” He asks Hector, stopping close to him, with a gentle smile and open arms.

“Some things… a lot, actually.” Hector starts, taking a shy step towards Trevor.

Only to be stopped by a loud cough behind him.

“Oh, right!” He takes a hasty step back, working on how to introduce them. “Sam, this is Trevor. We… worked together here on Mars.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Sam says, cold, before turning back to Hector. “I'll wait for you inside. Apparently you two got a lot to catch up on.”

With that, Sam is gone.

“What stick has he got up his arse?” Trevor asks, making Hector turn back to him. “Not yours, I hope.” There's a sly smile, a small glimmer of hope that things could work out again.

“Too far up my league.” Hector tries to laugh it off. Yet, he can't help but notice the curious glance from Trevor.

“Come on, pet.” He offers Hector his best smile, one he knew to always work. “If anyone's out of someone's league here it's you.”

“And here you go, dragging me back to your quarters…” Hector laughs, leaning closer to Trevor, who hugs him.

“Haven't lost my charms over you, have I, Pet?” Hector trembles as Trevor says the pet name, blood leaving his brain and going to other parts of his body.

His pants are tight, and they both know there's only one way of fixing this.

“Trevor, please…” Hector almost moans, peeling himself from Trevor's arms. “Not now. I'm here on business.”

“You look so pretty when you're all about business.” Trevor smiles, one last attempt at working his charms before turning back to return to work. “If you wanna, Pet, my quarters are still the same and you know what time I leave. Why don't you pay me a visit once you're done with your ‘business’?”

Giggling, Hector fixes his pants, ties his jacket around his waist and heads into the bar.

Lou wasn't of much help. Not with the Trade Authority on top of their mark. Only one small glimmer of hope, but it requires the deep mines.

Killing spacers is often a relief, but not if it means that people will be back to work in this hellhole.

Hector cusses all the way to the entrance, anger taking over as he mumbles to himself.

“So…” Sam's voice cuts off his latest string of curses. “Who was that?”

“I told you.” Hector says, turning his scanner on and off again to have something to do with his hands. “We worked together here on Mars. He was a friend, and then I left.”

“Just a friend?” Hector feels the ice shards on Sam's voice when he speaks, and confirms. “Because last I checked, friends don't call eachother ‘pet’.”

Hector turns back to Sam, seeing red. As much as the former miner found himself fond of the cowboy, that wasn't exactly a subtle question.

“Fine. We used to fuck, ok?” Hector says, a seductive smile playing on his lips. “We would go to his quarters after a long shift, where he'd toss me on his bed and fuck me until we were both too exhausted to move. That what you wanted to hear? Or would you like to do something similar with me?”

[pathfinderlittleduck]

Lukas & Sam's bedroom aboard the FC Diablo

[silurisanguine]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Starfield (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sam Coe/Spacefarer | Player Character, Sam Coe/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Sam Coe, Spacefarer | Player Character (Starfield), Female Spacefarer, Cora Coe Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, moments of Seren's past, Porn With So Much Plot, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Penetration, Fingering, Anal Play, not every chapter will have smut, Blood, game typical violence Series: Part 3 of Starborn Odyssey

Chapter 6: The Pale Lady

Summary:Sam is freaked out after coming across a rather creepy derelict ship and tells Seren about something that happened to him in the past.

Halloween update!

[kithkinchick]

Luck's a Chance, Trouble's Sure

Chapter One: It Begins

“Get a nice straightforward job, do it, go home, eat dinner then relax.” Gayle Francis gave a kick to the lovely, probably hideously expensive chair placed next to the bed. The sturdily built woman was pacing in the room she had been shown to in the Constellation Lodge, still dressed in her miner's jumpsuit.  “I had it all worked out.” Feeling a pang of guilt for mistreating the innocent piece of furniture, she abruptly sat, letting her mind run free over the unprecedented events of the last day, starting as a miner out in the far reaches, and ending up in this palatial club for wealthy explorers. This was not the way she had planned the concrete, stable, independent second act of her life. 

She had made the decision to cut ties with her middle management megacorp job. First the demands increased, subsuming her free time, and she became aware of her role growing further and further away from actual physical impact. She had become awash in a hazy realm of hypotheticals, with everything distilled down to impact on profit and stakeholders.

 For a while it had been easy to keep her focus on the numbers themselves, on the intangibles and the satisfaction of ‘winning’ when the numbers came out in the company’s favor. She was particularly skilled at distilling information and then using that to bring others to agreement, finding compromise like a puzzle that she only had to fit all the pieces into to succeed. She had been recognized for this, and the external praise helped quiet the internal rumination on her failings, her inadequacies and her faults. 

It’s not clear how long she would have continued in this way, jousting on paper and in meetings for intangible results, if the news had not broken. The news of a catastrophe on board a starliner, with the failure of a part she knew full well had crossed her desk. A part she had successfully argued for pushing forward with a lower factor of safety than the next best option, because it would have meant better and swifter returns, as well as a net positive relationship with the vendor. 

In that moment she linked all the spreadsheets, all the reports on safety and budget and retention to the people that were impacted. The idea of continuing to put people at risk became unfathomable. 

That day she saw a posting for a remote mining contract “no experience necessary,” locked up her apartment, slid the keycard into management’s box, and walked away. 

Mining was straightforward, and simple. Apply cutter to bedrock, extract resource, repeat until end of shift. Deposit load, then go and eat dinner, maybe read a bit, and fall into well earned sleep. The physical exertion was enough to make that sleep dreamless and deep, without the worries that had previous plagued her about upsetting colleagues, about mistakes, about hurting countless faceless others with careless errors that had slipped by.

Here, the errors were obvious: overload a cutter, it stopped working. Aim at the wrong spot, nothing comes out. Misbalance and fall over, get a bruise or a broken bone for your trouble. Supervisor Lin was straightforward in her expectations for Gayle to “do the job” and Heller doubled down on it, keeping focus on quotas and safety in the mine, and on keeping the crew together, but not too close, after hours. Despite him not having an official title he acted like a team leader, with his experience and confidence rallying the group 

Those first few weeks had felt honest for the first time in years. She was spending her days doing something tangible, seeing the results in both the ore she brought back, and the weariness in her muscles. It felt good. She had vague plans to collect a nest egg and “do good,” but had gotten no further quite yet. She relished the time spent outside her own head. 

When she had been singled out at the Vectera site she hadn’t initially thought anything out of the ordinary. She had been warned that performance appraisal was part of the job, especially before the deeper and more dangerous depths could be reached, and had been expecting something of the sort. 

What she hadn’t been expecting were gravity anomalies, a gleaming shard of metal caught in a matrix of cuboid crystal and a private light and music show that left her head splitting and her hands shaky. 

Even less expected had been the sudden thrust into combat, of turning cutter from stone to crimson and black armor, watching bodies fall, and expecting her own to be next. The horror at her actions had been muted by the adrenaline rush, forcing her to move, to dodge, to live. The closed helmets of the pirates had helped with that, allowing them to look alien and insect-like, so long as she closed her ears to the gasps as they fell. 

She felt her breathing quicken again as she thought of bodies falling, and of the stark gaze of the pirate leader, frozen behind a crimson helmet screen, falling backward after he had been shot. 

After Gayle had shot him. 

With an exertion of will that felt arduous, Gayle wrenched her thoughts away from the sick pit of emptiness in her gut and stood up to pace the confines of the room. Not her room, Constellation’s room. She forcefully thrust the image of the Artifact front and center in her mind’s eye. If she got it close enough, it would block out the black and crimson and ribbons of blood, spattering out of pirates, and dripping from her own wounds. 

“That damn rock” she thought, unkindly, as she continued pacing, and considered leaving to pace the long corridors. Shyness held her back, and a sense that they would all know she didn’t belong if they saw her again, without the dazzle of the new Artifact to distract from the duller reality.  If truth be told, it wasn’t just the rock’s fault, but her own stupid sense of duty. Lin had told her to come along, and so she had, not wanting to disappoint her new supervisor. A tiny thread in the back of her mind whispered that she had wanted to see this to the end, to learn more about that experience, of flying and falling and becoming that she had a taste of, but Gayle resolutely ignored that part.

She was very comfortable blaming the rock for her current position, dragged back to New Atlantis after Barrett had slapped his watch onto her wrist and shoved her toward his ship and his robot with a “welcome to the club” waggle of his brows. It had all happened so fast then that she couldn’t remember exact details of the travel. Details of the men and women she had encountered trying to get to Jemison were too vivid, too close.

The rock was easy to blame, easy to conjure up and think of when thoughts of frantic shots from the unfamiliar ship tried to peek through, or on the slow trip through Alpha Centauri, when she woke alone and breathless, after trying to nap in an unfamiliar bunk in a stranger’s ship. Her teeth had been clenched on a scream, responding to echoes of the voices hunting her, searching for her, threatening unspeakable things, only to hear the same voices choked off, lost in a gurgle of blood from a gun. 

From her gun.

Try as she might to tell herself that Vasco had been the reasons for the gasps and the groans, that her feeble first attempts at firing the gun she had picked up had all gone wild, she knew that she was responsible for the blood. Lasers cauterized in a way that ballistic weapons didn’t. 

Even if she did convince herself that the lab had been cleared by the tall robot thoughts of the ships coming at them over Vectera crowded in. The voices rasping over the comms, promising pain and threats, and then her fingers on the triggers, blasting them with lasers and missiles. The ships fell to pieces then, glistening in the reflected light of Vectera’s star, but the gasps were there, as were the bodies, floating mercilessly in the vacuum of space. 

When the pacing failed to distract her, those bodies drifted closer, closer, closer, until their faces pressed against the cockpit, staring at her, soundlessly blaming. With a start, it felt like she was back there, frozen in the unfamiliar pilot’s chair, watching them. This time her mind elaborated on the memory, and the cockpit was filled with the accusations of the dead, of those she had killed, blaming and screaming and gasping. 

Always that last choked gasp.

She dropped to a crouch in the center of her room, covering her eyes with her hands and letting out a low keening to drown out the symphony her mind had conjured up. 

Gayle struggled to pull the Artifact into her mind’s eye, to shut out memories and trick her brain into considering this all just another puzzle, something to solve, like working out a budget in her former life, or convincing others to come together in compromise. She had almost succeeded in replacing the thoughts of all the pirates that had died with thoughts of spreadsheets and meetings. No one ever died in a meeting.

Her treacherous mind let a thought slip through, “but the results of those meetings. How many thousands died when you compromised on safety standards? How many lives did you ruin with the cost saving initiatives that made the shareholders richer, and the employees gone.” 

As her breath quickened, she turned toward the shelf, richly appointed with trinkets and decor. She focused in on each item, describing it to herself in size, color, and shape, trying to use a trick she had learned in management to bring herself out of the past and into the present. When the internal litany was not enough, she reached out, picking up a small vase, feeling the slickness of  its finish, and describing it to herself aloud.

“Small, white, smooth, dry. Probably been some time since it held anything. No makers marks, no decor.”

The forced focus worked, or at least let her pretend that she didn’t want to claw off her clothes and maybe even her own skin to get away from the shakiness and jumpiness she felt down to her bones. Moving on into the next item Gayle kept her focus on inane details, and felt a comforting blankness separate her from the memories. It was shiny and slick, like the Artifact she kept picturing. 

Taking deep breaths, she clung to the blankness, bringing the Artifact closer and closer in her mind, until there was nothing peering through. Setting down the small box that she had picked up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the series of mirrors hanging to her right. 

She had never considered herself a particularly vain woman, but the sight of her dusty, disheveled self, still clad in the jumpsuit from Argos, was an unpleasant surprise. Seeing unfamiliar dark dots on her face and neck caused a frown. Leaning closer to the mirror she tried to get a better view, and was startled when one of them flaked off, leaving a dull brick red patch in its wake. 

Eyes wide, she backed away from the mirror, trying to escape the knowledge that she was spattered in blood. Someone else’s blood. Possibly multiple someones. 

Her hasty retreat in an unfamiliar space was ill advised, and with only a few steps her feet tangled with the bench placed, ever so helpfully, at the foot of the bed. The resulting conflict did not end in her favor and she found herself crashing to the floor with a loud bang.

 To her chagrin she heard doors opening rapidly outside in the hall and a gentle tap at her own door. “are you all right?” The soft voice belonged to the sanctum universum member she had met downstairs. With his name escaping her she called out shakily “I'm fine just a little startled.” 

Bringing herself hastily to her feet she walked to the door, rubbing her hip where it had struck  the ground, and opened it. “Just a little jumpy after everything that's happened and in a new place”  she explained to the worried man standing outside. “I think I will freshen up, then take a walk, grab something to eat, and get a change of clothes so I feel more like myself”

“But we have food here and I'm sure there are clothes you can borrow from Sarah or Andreja.” As he spoke Gayle walked past him into the hallway. Headed towards the washroom she commented over her shoulder “That's very kind but I think I need to get some fresh air.”

Entering the washroom Gayle locked the door behind her before shakily approaching the mirror. the flecks she had noticed in the fragmented ornamental mirror of her bedroom showed clear as day under the harsh white light of the vanity. Snatching a cloth from the convenient stack next to the sink she ran scorching hot water through the tap and then wiped at her besmirched skin. As the flakes transferred from her skin to the cloth she folded and turned it, refreshing it with the hottest water she could manage and dabbed at her skin. 

When the only flush left was her own blood rising to meet the heat of the water she stopped,  making an effort to not continue rubbing the skin until her own blood broke free from her skin and replaced what she had just removed. Looking around the room she found a hamper and placed the used washcloth in it. She would not let her uncertainty allow her to forget the manners her mother had raised her with, nor to give the club of dilettantes the satisfaction of considering her less than in yet another way.

[fomagranfalloon]

ONE MORE RUN BE ENOUGH

Chapter 4 of my Sam Coe fanfic is now up on AO3.

Pairing: Player Character x Sam Coe

Summary: After countless trips through the Unity, the Spacefarer is growing weary of the Starborn life. After fruitless searching for her original Sam Coe in every iteration, she starts to see something special about the Sam in this latest universe.

Warnings: Game canon typical violence, language, spoilers for end of main mission

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapters will be added daily for the next few days until complete

[dryad-of-the-dogwood]

The Grav Jump Tango Chapter 7: Some Answers, More Questions Pairing: Sam Coe x Spacefarer

After watching Juno grav jump away to safety, Cassandra engaged the Horizon’s drive without so much as double checking Sarah’s coordinates. She must have been in a hell of a hurry to get Khambatta and Collins off her ship. They seemed to keep their hands to themselves under Constellation’s collective glares at least, and after what felt like the longest and most awkward grav jump of Sam’s entire life, they landed safely on Neon.

Sarah, of course, didn’t look any more pleased once their visitors were gone. She just glanced around quickly for Cassandra, and once she realized the captain hadn’t come to see the operatives off, she made a beeline for the cockpit.

“All right, Cassandra,” she was saying as soon as her feet hit the floor, but Cassandra held up a finger, requesting a minute, from where she sat poring over something on the nav console.

“You sneaky son of a bitch,” she muttered, then paced quickly around the console, staring at it, before abruptly dropping to the floor and sliding half underneath the nav deck to reach something on the bottom. “You had to know that wasn’t gonna work,” she grumbled from out of sight. “Enjoy another pay cut, asshole.”

She stood up with a flat disc of metal and plastic that seemed to have a spike of some kind on one side, then tossed it on the ground and stomped it before glaring at Sarah and Sam. “Remind me to shoot Khambatta if I ever see him again. I know that idiot’s the only one with the balls to try to bug my fucking ship.”

“He what?” Sarah asked, distracted, as she frowned down at the fragmented device on the floor.

“Kindergarten project level tech too,” Cassandra continued to rant as she moved on to one of the crew consoles, sounding very much like she thought the lack of skill in the eavesdropping attempt was the most disgusting part. “Doesn’t even disguise the power drain, like I’m stupid enough not to check.”